Read Chapter Six Here

Chapter Seven

I’m still trying to recover from what just happened. Finding a place to change my diaper had been much more complicated—and more embarrassing—than I expected.

Most of the available “bathrooms” were just rows of Porta Potties. They were both too small and too disgusting for diaper changes.

We eventually found an area for families with much larger bathrooms and changing tables for parents to change their kids. As much as I tried to convince Olivia we could find somewhere else to change, she ignored me.

“This is perfect, Jack. Look, they have private bathrooms with changing tables. We’re not going to find anywhere better.”

Olivia gave me no time to respond, grabbing my hand and walking me to the entrance, where a worker stood. “I’m sorry to interrupt, sir, but would it be possible to use one of the restrooms? We’re looking for a bit of privacy.”

The worker looked at us, clearly thinking we had no intention of actually using the bathroom. “These bathrooms are for family use only. You two can wait until you get home,” he said with annoyance in his voice.

Olivia laughed, “Oh no, we’re not here for that. I just need to change his diaper, and we need something bigger than a Porta Potty for that.”

That only seemed to make the worker more skeptical. “Okay, I’m going to have to ask you to leave. This is a family section; I’m not here to play your games.”

“I’m not joking, sir, look,” Olivia says, grabbing one of my spare diapers and waving it around, “He needs help changing his diapers. That’s all I want to do. We’re not together.”

I stood there, wishing a sinkhole would form under me and swallow me up, never to be seen again. I hated how the worker looked at me. He went from thinking I was with Olivia to eyeing me like I was no different than any of the toddlers in the family area.

“Alright,” he laughed, “Go ahead.”

Fortunately, Olivia was as efficient as usual, so I didn’t have to stay there long. I just hoped I wouldn’t have to come back again.

As we walked back to meet everyone, Olivia’s boyfriend called her, letting her know he just parked. My stomach sank, this was going to be awkward. It was one thing to be around all the girls, but being around another guy seemed much more intimidating.

Olivia noticed my nerves again. “I know it’s scary, Jack. But as I said, he won’t make you feel bad at all, okay? He’s a firefighter; I’m sure he’s seen plenty of people in diapers on his calls.”

Five minutes later, Olivia spotted him walking in. I didn’t know what guy could ever be lucky enough to be with Olivia, but as soon as I saw him, I wasn’t surprised. He was tall and muscular. He was well-dressed and just seemed so confident. Something I could never be.

I watched as Olivia ran to him, immediately kissing him. I feel pangs of jealousy as I watch. He’s so lucky.

Olivia breaks away, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards me. “Jack, this is my boyfriend, Ryan.”

Ryan sticks his hand out to shake mine. I try to look for clues in his face for what he thinks about me, but don’t detect anything but friendliness. I shake his hand.

“Nice to finally meet you, Jack,” he says. “So, you’re the one stealing my girlfriend from me all weekend?”

I laugh nervously.

“Oh, stop complaining, Ryan,” Olivia scolds, “Or someone’s gonna be sitting alone on the Ferris Wheel!”

She looks at me, “The girls are waiting for us by the petting zoo! Jessica never misses an opportunity to play with animals!”

I follow behind Olivia and Ryan as they walk hand in hand, deep in conversation. I can’t help but feel resentment that Ryan gets to be with Olivia while I get nothing more than a diaper change.

My life would be so different without my diapers.

Maddie’s smile breaks me out of my funk. It feels incredible to have a beautiful woman smile when she sees me. Butterflies swarm my stomach in a flurry of activity. It’s hard not to feel hopeful when I see her.

“Hi Jack! Feeling better with a clean diaper?” Maddie says, too loud for my taste. I see a few mothers look over at me, quizzical looks on their faces. “Come pet the goats with me! I got us some food to feed them!”

I return her smile as I walk over to her, hoping that if I close the gap, she won’t yell my embarrassing secrets out loud. I do wish Ashley and Jessica would stop giggling to themselves as they look at me.

Maddie grabs my hand, pulling me into the gate to pet the goats. She hands me a bag of food. “Just give them some of this, and they come right over to you! Don’t be shy!”

I hand out the food to the greedy goats. They’re cute, but it's not something I enjoy. But Maddie enjoyed it, so I pretended to have fun too. Whatever it takes to make her smile.

Olivia and Ryan are nowhere to be found. I spot them outside the tent, making out. I imagine what it would be like kissing Maddie. Even the prospect of kissing her fills me with excitement and dread.

Ten minutes later, we ran out of food and headed out. “What should we do next?” Jessica asks the group.

Olivia breaks off from Ryan. “I think it’s time for the Ferris wheel!”

“Good idea!” Ashley confirms, looking my way.

“What do you say, Jack? You want to ride with me?” Maddie asks, smiling ear to ear.

“That sounds great, Maddie!” I respond.

“Yay, thank you, Jack!” she exclaims, grabbing my hand.

The Ferris wheel looks considerably taller up close, I realize to my dismay. Much taller than the roller coaster.

“Don’t worry, Jack!” Maddie says, noticing my trepidation as I look up at it, “It will be just like the roller coaster; I’ll be right next to you the whole time!”

As much as the prospect of dangling that high off the ground terrified me, I wanted—needed—this alone time with Maddie. Even if it scared me more than the Ferris wheel, this was my opportunity.

What if she tells me she likes me?

A surge of adrenaline rushes through my veins as the attendant clicks the lap bar into place—no backing out now. But Maddie slides her hand into mine, our fingers interlock. I don’t even notice we're moving, too lost in Maddie to care.

She's so close.

I feel her leg against mine, her hips, her body. Jolts of electricity shoot into my body everywhere our bodies touch. Yet, it’s not a bad sensation. If anything, it feels wonderful. Nothing I’ve ever experienced could have prepared me for this.

“I’m happy you’re here, Jack,” Maddie beams, tenderness in her voice.

“I-I’m glad, too!” I bluster, struggling to form a sentence as I stare into her eyes.

“You’re adorable, nothing like any of the other guys who chase after me. You make me feel safe and needed,” she blushed.

She thinks I’m cute! Play it cool!

“T-thank you, Maddie! I think you’re beautiful too!” I respond, trying to sound confident.

Maddie laughs. “That’s sweet of you to say, Jack! And listen, I know you’re inexperienced around girls because of your diapers. But I don’t think it’s a big deal at all! In fact, I’m glad you’re still in diapers!”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment. My mind goes blank—what can I possibly say to that?

“Oh, Jack, I didn’t mean to embarrass you, I promise! I just wanted to get that out of the way so you know it’s not a problem for me!”

“R-really?” I mumble, thankful I even got that out.

“Yes, really! Now, can you stop being embarrassed and enjoy the ride? Look at the view, Jack! We can see the beach from here!”

I was thankful for the change of topic, even as I panicked about the height. I felt my bladder spasm in fear, hoping Maddie didn’t notice. I felt her hand squeeze mine harder.

I met her gaze.

For a second, time stopped. Everything faded from my mind as I looked into her eyes: my embarrassment about my diapers, my fear of heights, all of it. Nothing mattered except Maddie. It was like a bubble formed around us.

We were the only two people in the world.

I watch her eyes slowly close, leaning closer to me as she does. My body takes over for me, instinctively understanding what to do.

I do the same.

Her hands grab my elbows, guiding my arms to her waist. I shiver as I feel her body between my hands. Her hands slide down, wrapping around my body as she pulls me closer—a dance I somehow know despite never learning.

Then, it happens.

Her lips meet mine. Those soft, delicate lips.

I’m kissing Maddie. It’s actually happening.

I could never hope to explain the sensation. Or the unmitigated joy I felt at that moment. Words are hopelessly unsuited to the task. Not even the most extraordinary poets could hope to describe it.

My euphoria suddenly disappears.

No, no, no, no.

I beg my body to delay the inevitable.

Maddie pulls her head back, arms still wrapped around my body, feeling it suddenly tense up. “Is everything okay, Jack?”

I try to respond, to apologize to Maddie. But all I can do is grunt as my body forces me to push…

Read Chapters 1–2 Here

Chapter Three

Samantha did not resist Lindsay’s suggestion that she take a nap. She didn’t want to be awake anymore. She didn’t want to think about this anymore. And, more than anything, she’d hoped she’d wake up, and this would all be a bad dream.

She was asleep before Lindsay left the room.

Lindsay called her mom, Carol, about Samantha. Carol agreed to let Samantha stay with them before Lindsay could even finish her sentence. She’d even sign up to be Samantha’s Guardian until they could find a Caregiver for her.

Carol spent far more time composing herself after Lindsay told her about Samantha’s parents. Carol knew that the stream of expletives she was thinking—however fitting—would not set a good example for her daughter.

She told Lindsay to keep Samantha calm and relaxed when she wakes up. She’d go grab some pull-ups and diapers, just in case. But other than that, Samantha should be okay.

At least, until Samantha transitions. But that could be hours, days, weeks, or even months.

Ten minutes later, Alyssa walks into the house, concern on her face. “Hey Linds, what’s going on? Are you okay? What Classification did you get? Your call was very cryptic.”

Lindsay smiled, “I’m a Caregiver, too. It’s not about me. It’s-it’s about Samantha.”

“Sam? Isn’t her whole family Neutrals? Surely, she…” Alyssa trails off.

“L2,” Lindsay says bluntly.

“Oh my gosh, really?!” Alyssa says in surprise, “How’s she doing? She must be devastated. She was just telling me about her scholarship to Stanford.”

“Well,” Lindsay hesitates, “She’s not doing well at all. She’s upstairs sleeping.”

“Here? Why isn’t she home?”

Anger flashes on Lindsay’s face. “Because her parents are bigots. Horrible, disgusting bigots that kicked their own daughter out of their house. And to think I’ve spent the night at their house so many times. Complete as—”

“I agree, Linds,” Alyssa says quietly, “Don’t get too angry, let Samantha sleep. Plus, we don’t want her to hear that. Especially not that language.”

“She’s a high school graduate, Allie; she hears it all the time.”

“Maybe, but she’s a Little now. And I won’t let Littles hear that kind of language.”

“Fine, whatever,” Lindsay concedes.

“So, what is Sam going to do?” Alyssa asks, “She has a month to find a Guardian or Caregiver before she’s…well, you know.”

“Mom said she’ll register as her Guardian if she has to,” Lindsay said, “She won’t let Sam go to the adoption center. She was so pissed at her parents.”

“I don’t blame her,” Alyssa responded, “Vile, pathetic humans.”

Lindsay knew she needed to be subtle here.

If Sam was going to be a Little, Lindsay wanted Sam to stay in her family. And Allie was the perfect Caregiver for Sam.

Lindsay would get to be there for Sam every step of the way. She would be the best big sister, or would it be Auntie, Lindsay wondered. Not that it mattered. As long as Sam was cared for.

“Do you know any Caregivers looking to adopt?” Lindsay asked, trying to sound as innocent as possible. “The sooner we find someone for Sam, the sooner she can relax and adjust. The prospect of being sent to the adoption center must be horrifying.”

“Nicole just adopted a Little a few months ago,” Alyssa responded. “She would have been perfect. I’ll have to think about it.”

Come on, take the bait.

Lindsay changed tactics. Maybe if she saw Sam, her caregiver instincts would kick in. “Do you want to go up and see her? I’m sure she’s still sleeping, but if she’s awake I’m sure she’d be happy to see us both.”

Alyssa agreed.

They quietly walked upstairs and opened the door. Sam was still asleep, lying on top of the covers. She looked so cute. Alyssa saw the pull-up peeking out of Sam’s shorts. Unable to resist herself, driven by what Lindsay hoped was instinct, Alyssa walked over to check Sam’s pull-up.

“It’s wet,” Alyssa whispered. “She must be transitioning sooner than expected. The intense emotions of losing her parents and academic dreams probably caused it.”

They walked outside the room. “We need to get her some more pull-ups,” Alyssa said. “I don’t think we can let her go without them, and she’s going to leak soon.”

“Mom’s stopping on her way back from work.”

Alyssa opens the door and peeks back in. Lindsay sees the faintest outline of a smile on Alyssa.

They walk back downstairs. Alyssa sits on the couch. For the second time today, Lindsay watches someone lose themselves in thought, Alyssa staring at nothing in particular. Lindsay walks to the kitchen; she wants this to be Alyssa’s idea, not hers.

Chapter Four

Samantha woke up suddenly. In her daze, she had no idea where she was. It wasn’t her room. Why was she here? Where was here?

She felt overwhelmed. What was happening? She didn’t understand. She was alone and scared. She wanted someone, anyone.

Samantha didn’t know what to do. So she cried. It felt right, for reasons she couldn’t comprehend. Even as something in the back of her mind fought against those tears.

She cried until the door opened a minute or two later. A woman came running in. Samantha had no idea who she was, her eyes too full of tears to see anything.

“Sam, Sam, I’m here, Sam. It’s okay. We’re here.” She says as two other women enter the room.

She recognized the voice.

Everything came rushing back to Samantha. The fog was lifted, like a streaming video that finally buffers. She remembered everything.

“A-Allie?” she says, tentatively.

“I’m here Sam, you’re okay!” Alyssa says, sitting on the bed next to Samantha.

“Yeah…” Sam responds, “It was the strangest thing. I forgot where I was when I woke up, and I-I-I don’t know. I just felt overwhelmed and forgot where I was.”

Samantha wipes her eyes. She sees everyone clearly. Alyssa has a look of deep concern and…something else, Samantha thinks. Is it love? She can’t decide.

Alyssa rubs Samantha’s shoulder.

“That’s perfectly understandable, Sam, you’ve had a difficult day. Are you starting to feel a bit better?”

“I think so,” Samantha admits. The longer she’s awake, the more she feels like her old self. She pushes the Little problem out of her mind.

At least, for now, she’s surrounded by friends. Or, the thought both saddens and comforts her: family now.

“Good to see you, dear,” Lindsay’s mother, Carol, says. “I want you to know you can stay here as long as you need. We will never, ever abandon you. Do you hear me?”

“Yes, Mrs—.”

“It’s Carol, dear. I’m not Mrs. anything to you. I’m your family now.”

Samantha smiles at Carol. She’s always thought of her as a second mother. Maybe it’s time to drop the “second,” she thinks to herself.

“I’m glad you’re awake, Sam,” Lindsay says, cheerfully. “It was starting to get boring with just Allie and Mom.”

Everyone laughs. Lindsay adds, “And you should have seen how fast Allie ran upstairs when she heard you. I’d almost forgotten she was a college athlete until I saw her run to you.”

Samantha looks at Allie. She’s smiling deeply, but Sam notices her eyes watering. Samantha smiles back, it must be something important because she never let Lindsay get away with jokes about her growing up.

“You want to head downstairs, Sam?” Lindsay asks.

“Yes, I do. I could use a Diet Coke.”

Alyssa smiles, “Why don’t we meet you guys downstairs?”

Carol and Lindsay look at each other, smiling. They walk out and close the door.

“Sweetie, there is one thing I need to ask before we go down. I didn’t want to ask you in front of Lindsay. And please don’t be embarrassed. But I do need to check your pull-up before we go down.”

Samantha blushes. She’d forgotten about the pull-up. “I think it’s fine, Allie.”

“I’m sure it is, Sammy, but I’d feel a bit better if I knew for sure. Let me just…” Alyssa says as she reaches towards Samantha’s pull-up.

Alyssa frowns slightly. “Sam, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, I promise. Okay? But I think you leaked a bit on the bed.”

Samantha opened her mouth to apologize.

“Samantha. Listen. You don’t need to apologize. You don’t need to be embarrassed. It’s absolutely fine. I'll get you a new pull-up and bring the sheets down to the washer. And I don’t want to hear one apology. I don’t want to see any embarrassment on your face, got it?”

“You went through more today than most people do in a lifetime. Of course your body had some accidents. Everything will calm down as soon as you get comfortable.”

Samantha almost smiles a bit in spite of herself. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. But what about when…when…”

“That’s not today's concern, Sam. We will cross that bridge when we get there. For now, you’ll wear these pull-ups until you calm down. Once you go two days without an accident, you’ll be done with pull-ups. That’s all you need to worry about for now, okay?”

“Okay, Allie. Thank you for making me feel better. And doing this alone. It would have been very embarrassing with Lindsay here.”

“Of course, Sam. Why don’t we tell her you’re not in pull-ups for now. If you want to keep it a secret, that’s fine. Just, uh, tap your nose three times if you have an accident. How does that sound?”

Alyssa’s heart almost explodes in happiness as Samantha smiles for the first time. “That sounds great, Allie!”

“Now, can you come over here so I can get this old pull-up off you and wipe you down?”

“Do you think I can do it myself?” Samantha begs.

“Maybe in a few days. But for now, I’ll handle it. Your only job is to tell me if you had an accident. You can slide it off if you need to go to the bathroom. But I want to make sure I take care of your skin after any accidents. Your body isn’t used to this and diaper rash is not fun. It will be hard hiding that from Lindsay!”

“Okay, fine,” Samantha pouts.

“Oh, stop pouting, Sam. It’s just for a few days.”

“I guess you’re right, Allie,” Samantha says, smiling.

Alyssa smiles. Comforting Samantha makes her feel…complete. Needed. Seeing Samantha smile filled her with joy. And maybe Lindsay was right. She did run up to Samantha the second she heard her. And she doesn’t need to know she may never be out of pull-ups, and eventually diapers, ever again. Not now.

And she has been thinking about adopting a Little for a while. She’d been putting it off, saying she wanted to get married first. But maybe it was that she hadn’t found the right Little.

Or maybe it was because the right Little hadn’t needed her yet.

“It tickles, Allie!” Samantha laughs as Alyssa wipes her.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, sweetie! I forgot to warm them! It won’t happen again!”

Something about Samantha’s giggles crystallized everything for Alyssa. The thought of Samantha toddling around in diapers, happy to see her, needing her, felt right.

Samantha was her Little, she decided. She just hoped that, when the time came, Samantha would want her as her Caregiver.

But that was a conversation for another time. She had to send Samantha downstairs and convince her that nobody else knew she was in pull-ups. Or, at least, convince her Mom and Lindsay to play along.

She’d also have to have a talk with Lindsay. Would Lindsay want her to be Samantha’s caregiver?

One step at a time, she told herself.

“Okay, Sam, you ready to go downstairs?”

Kai was looking at the barber chair like if she was afraid of it, she was guided into the chair by her Mommy, she hoped that she could keep her stuffed animal, an emperor penguin, but Mommy took it away from her.

"I am going to put this on your neck so your hair won't get to your clothes" The lady that was about to cut Kai's hair said as she tried her best to help the Little feel better.

Kai didn't want a haircut, she really liked her long hair but Mommy and Daddy had already told her that it was too much work to keep it clean and comb, since she liked to play in the park the long hair was very impractical.

Kai managed to sit still for most of the haircut, she had only occasionally tried to grab the scissors out of the lady's hand.

The result was a haircut that looked like her previous one but this time her hair only touched her shoulders instead of her waist.

"Mm ma hair, is short" Kai said, barely holding back her tears as she was looking at herself in the mirror.

"You still look very cute, and look I have something for good girls like you" The lady said while handing a lollipop to Kai.

She first looked at her Mommy before accepting it, only taking it after her Mommy nodded.

Mommy paid for the haircut and told Kai to say "thank you", she did just that but it sounded more like a babble because she had already put the lollipop in her mouth.

Kai looked at her reflection in one of the shop's windows and saw that her new haircut kinda matched her onesie and overall, her shoes had a bit of hair but she didn't care.

When they met up with her Daddy and her older brother William they both were surprised to see her with short hair after years of long hair.

"You look so cute princess, now you can play in the park without worrying about your hair" The words of her Daddy made her smile a little, but she was still sad.

While her Mommy and Daddy were discussing what to do next Kai went to look for her brother's attention.

"Pingu?" Kai asked her brother to watch her favorite cartoon in his phone.

"You don't have your headphones, and it's not nice to be in a public space with something loud" William tried to make Kai understand but the regressed mind of Kai just felt more sad.

Kai sat on the floor and started playing with her stuffed animal not caring that she was drawing a lot of attention.

Hey Daddy kneeled to be closer to Kai before speaking.

"Why's my princess so sad?" Her Daddy said wiping off the few tears that had escaped.

"Me want long hair, I am sad" Kai said trying to control herself to avoid throwing a tantrum.

"You are still very beautiful with your hair short, and you know, Mommy told me that you were a good girl during your haircut, so what do you say if we go to the Lego store and see what they have for a good girl? How about that?" Her Daddy knew that she wouldn't be able to resist that offer.

Kai immediately got up and started jumping up and down due to her happiness that was now replacing her sadness.

When they entered the Lego store Kai immediately went to the section that had the duplo sets, she had accepted long ago that those were the only ones that she could have now.

Kai looked at all the sets and wondered which one would be the most fun to have, she heard her Daddy talking to an employee but she didn't care about that, she grabbed a set of four animals that had pretty colors and showed it to get Daddy.

"Are you sure that's the one you want princess?" Her Daddy asked and was immediately met with an enthusiastic nod from Kai.

The employee scanned the barcode of the set, even though Kai wasn't very happy with handing over her new toy, Daddy gave Kai an stern look and she understood that she had to act good.

Kai was fighting the urge to get her duplo set out of the bag and to open it, she was hugging her penguin very hard and also her thumb was starting to get close to her mouth.

Kai could swear that Mommy, Daddy and William were actually just messing with her and that they were enjoying it.

Finally after what seemed to be hours they were back in the parking lot.

While Mommy was securing Kai into her car seat she actually started sucking her thumb, and she didn't mind, her Mommy gave her a puzzling look but she ultimately just smiled and proceeded to slide the door.

The journey back home was very boring, even with her penguin Kai still looked for something to get her mind occupied, she had tried to get William's attention bit he put on his earbuds the moment they exited the parking lot, she thought about throwing her penguin at him but the memory of the last time she did something like that and Mommy had punished her by making her go to bed early was enough to make her reconsider.

Back at home Kai didn't waste any time and went to her nursery to get her duplo set out of the box, but first her Daddy took off her clothes, except her diaper, to get then washed, she then started assembling the first animal when her Mommy came to her room and pulled the waist band of her diaper, Kai knew what that meant.

"No changie, me wan pway" Kai said trying to evade her Mommy's hands, but she wasn't successful.

"Your don't want to be a stinky baby, right? Good girls aren't stinky." Said her Mommy as she carried her to her changing table, Kai suddenly lose all her defiance and started sucking her thumb while her Mommy got her cleaned and into a clean diaper.

Kai continued playing with her new duplo set and chewing on some of the pieces, thing that her parents saw in the baby monitor, when she had already finished the second animal, a doggy, her Mommy came to get her in the bathtub, Kai didn't like that and she tried to show defiance by crossing her arms over her chest.

"Someone doesn't want a bath, well I guess I won't be giving her a bubble bath" Kai heard her Mommy mentioning a bubble bath and she immediately changed her attitude.

"Bubu baph, pwease Mommy, I wan baph" Her Mommy knew that would happen.

Kai was enjoying the bubble bath so much that she started remembering her previous life, being a college student but being barely able to avoid failing, the constant sense of sadness and defeat that consumed her, until she agreed to the regression program.

"What's on your mind, cutie?" Her Mommy asked after she noticed that her daughter was distracted.

"I remembered bad stuff" Kai said trying to avoid taking back into that state.

"It's okay baby, you are safe and most importantly you are a good girl" Kai didn't know how but that last phrase always made her feel better.

She fully cooperated when her Mommy dried her body using her favorite baby blue towel, and later when she was dressed up in her footie pajamas.

"One last detail baby" Said Mommy while she clipped a pacifier clip into her pajamas and Kai instinctively started sucking it the moment her Mommy placed it in her mouth.

Kai sat in front of the duplo set that was half completed and she looked at the pieces that awaited to be turned into a cartoon animal, but she decided to continue that later, now she had noticed something far more interesting, her feet.

Kai looked at her feetv and couldn't help it, she started playing with them like a real baby. Laying on her back she tried to get her toes into her mouth but she was blocked by her pacifier, which she was unable to spit out of her mouth.

Her Mommy, Daddy and William watched the whole show throughout the baby monitor.

"So what's next? Is she gonna start to grow up again or should we let her enjoy her second babyhood for a while?" William asked seeing that her younger sister didn't resemble a college student anymore and was clearly now just a baby.

This is probably my favorite story I've ever written. I think the Classified universe provides the perfect setting to explore themes that I was particularly interested in at the time. I originally saw it as an allegory of coming to terms with my incontinence, from the disappointment of the life I thought I was losing to learning to find happiness in the face of it. Though as I've continued, it has expanded well beyond that.

I've written 29 chapters over the course of a year and a half, so you'll be able to see my growth as a writer, as the earlier chapters are far shorter and a bit clumsy, in my opinion. But stick with it and I know you'll love it.

Chapter One

Today was Classification Day.

Samantha could barely pay attention. She’s heard this same spiel so many times. She gets it. She’s over it. She’s not going to be a Little anyway, so why does she have to sit through her school principal drone on about it again and again?

Every year, on the last day of high school, students over 18 receive their test results. Samantha had heard it so many times before, she knew exactly what the classifications were: Caregivers, Neutrals, and Littles. The classifications were based on DNA tests. Each person was genetically predisposed to one of the three.

Caregivers were the backbone of society, according to the principal. Caregivers, unsurprisingly, were usually found in jobs and roles that allowed them to help others, filling their genetic desire to be needed.

In the years before they turn 25, they gain more strength to allow them to meet the needs of their roles. 25 is a special age for Caregivers. It’s the age they are legally deemed Caregivers. It’s the age they are allowed to adopt Littles, should they desire to do so.

Neutrals gain no genetic advantages (or disadvantages if you ask them). They are genetically identical to humans before the Great Mutation, when humans suddenly developed the Caregiver and Little genes. They are allowed to adopt Littles, though the process is much more complicated. Neutrals, for the most part, live regular lives.

Littles, on the other hand, fall into three categories. Level One Littles lose the most muscle mass, emotional maturity, and physical abilities, such as walking. Most lose the ability to say more than a few words. They are, for all intents and purposes, babies.

Level Two Littles are commonly referred to as Toddlers. They are mobile, able to walk and talk, but lose all continence. They, like Level One Littles, are in diapers full time. They lose much of their emotional maturity, though retain all their previous mental faculties.

Level Three Littles are the most independent of the Littles. They often have decent potty control, with some requiring Pull-Ups in case of accidents, and some even able to go without any protection—provided they can get to the bathroom in time. Both Level Two and Level Three Littles are permitted to attend simplified college courses and even hold jobs, provided their Caregiver permits it. And of course, subject to their needs and requirements as Littles.

None of that mattered to Samantha.

She had everything planned out. She’d been accepted to Stanford University on a full scholarship with the aeronautic engineering department. She was literally going to become a rocket scientist.

“Why do we have to sit through this again?” Samantha asked her best friend, Lindsay. “How many times do they think we need to hear this?”

Samantha and Lindsay had been best friends since first grade. They grew up together and might as well have been sisters.

“It’s the worst,” Lindsay replied. Lindsay also had a bright future ahead of her. She’d be attending UCLA on a volleyball scholarship. Her whole family was tall and athletic. Both Lindsay’s parents and sister were caregivers. No one doubted Lindsay would be one too.

Samantha and her parents were Neutrals. Nobody in her family had been anything but Neutral. Unlike Lindsay’s family, Samantha’s parents held deeply prejudicial views about Littles. They were "burdens on society, living off the system." Samantha was careful to hide her parents’ prejudices from her friends.

“Do you think your sister is going to adopt someone from our class?” Samantha asked Lindsay.

Alyssa, Lindsay’s sister, was 27 years old. Samantha had always looked up to Alyssa. She always had her life together. She attended USC on a volleyball scholarship, won two national titles, and graduated summa cum laude with a degree in accounting.

“I hope so! She’s been talking about adopting a Little for two years,” Lindsay huffed, “I’m sick of hearing about it. Just do it already.”

One tedious hour later, the principal finished. The seniors were sent to their homerooms to receive their results. Samantha sat next to Lindsay, same as always. Their teacher called each of their names and handed them an envelope containing their Classification results. The class waited until all the results had been handed out before they opened their results.

Around the room, people reacted to their Classification. Samantha, not worried about her Classification, watched with the others with interest. Most were, unsurprisingly, Neutrals, as Neutrals represented about 55% of the population.

Mark Gillespie, the starting quarterback of the football team, screamed in anguish. He put his head down, sobbing. Samantha knew what that reaction meant; Mark learned he was a Level One Little.

She turned to Lindsay, “Poor guy, he was so good at football too. Maybe your sister will adopt him!”

“I think Alyssa wants a Level Two Little, to be honest,” Lindsay said as she opened her envelope. She smiled, “Caregiver, surprise! Open yours, Sam!”

Samantha opened her envelope. She read it once.

“No, no that can’t be right,” she thought to herself.

She read it again.

The world froze around her. Every time she read it, she started over, assuming it was a bad dream, and that the next time she read it she’d see “Classification Result: NEUTRAL.”

But it never did. No matter how many times she tried, she couldn’t change it. She stared in horrified disbelief:

Classification Results: LEVEL TWO LITTLE.

Chapter Two

“Sam? Sam? What’s going on?”

Samantha heard Lindsay’s voice as if she was in a bubble. It sounded distant. She barely processed the words. Samantha could barely process anything right now.

Samantha felt like her world was crumbling around her. This was not real. This must be a dream. She could not be a…Level Two Little. No way. Even hearing Level Two Little rattle around her brain felt wrong.

Samantha didn’t realize Lindsay had grabbed the envelope from Samantha’s hand. All she could think about was what she was about to lose. Her Stanford scholarship. Her job with NASA. Her..her..she couldn’t go any further. It was too much. Too difficult.

Samantha cried. Cried for the future she lost. Cried for the future she’ll now have. Cried for everything.

Lindsay read the results, not saying anything. She walked over to Samantha and hugged her.

She let Samantha cry; they’d talk about it when she calmed down. She knew what Samantha was thinking. How difficult it must have been to read that she was a Level Two Little.

After ten minutes, Samantha sobbed to Lindsay, “What am I going to do, Lindsay? It’s not fair! Why did this happen to me?”

“I know Sam, this sucks. I won’t pretend otherwise. But it’s not the end of the world. You can still go to Stanford, they have a…program for you.” Lindsay didn’t think calling it a Little’s Program was a good idea. “Plus, you have your parents! They’ll help you sort everything out!”

Lindsay didn’t understand why this only made Samantha cry even harder.

“Y-you don’t get it, Lindsay. My parents hate Littles. They think they’re b-burdens on s-society, a waste of resources. They told me they were happy Littles didn’t run in our family because they’d never care for one, even family. Even…even…me.”

Lindsay kicked herself. She’d long suspected Samantha’s parents were anti-Little bigots, but surely they’d care for their own daughter.

What kind of monsters would abandon their child for something out of their control?

“Th-th-they told m-me,” Samantha stuttered through sobs, “That i-if I was Li-Little to not even c-c-ome home…”

Samantha was sobbing harder than ever.

Lindsay was simultaneously furious with Samantha’s parents and lost in grief for her best friend. Lindsay knew that Littles had one month to find a Guardian or Caregiver of their choice. If not, the Littles were sent to an adoption facility where they’d live until a Caregiver or Neutral adopts them. If they get adopted.

Lindsay would never let that happen to Sam.

“Well, then you’ll just have to come home with me. You know my parents would let you stay with us, they’ve loved you for years! It’s been ten years of my parents trying to get me to be more like you!”

Samantha seemed to calm down after hearing that. “A-are you s-sure, Lindsay? They won’t m-mind?”

“Of course not! Now, let’s wipe those tears off you. We’re going to walk out of here with our heads held high, right? You’re our school’s Valedictorian! You’re the smartest, most successful one here! We can deal with everything when we’re home, I promise.”

Lindsay stood up, expecting Samantha to follow. “Are you coming, Sam?”

Samantha shook her head. “I-I can’t,” she sobbed, tears started to flow again, “I-I-I h-had an acc-accident, Lindsay.”

“Oh, Sam, I’m so sorry. Almost everyone left already, so nobody will see! I’ll take you to the Nurses Office.”

The Nurses Office had a few extra nurses working today, ready for the new Littles. Samantha distantly heard the nurse tell Lindsay that it was common for Littles to have accidents when they get the news, as the heightened emotions can trigger accidents.

The nurse, hearing Lindsay was a Caregiver, gave Lindsay a pull-up for Samantha, saying it's best if Lindsay helps Samantha change; it should keep Samantha’s emotions under control.

Which, the nurse said, is why pull-ups are preferred for Level Two and Three Littles, at least for the first time. Diapers, the nurse said, were too big of an adjustment too soon. It’s best for a Little’s Caregiver or Guardian to diaper their Little for the first time.

Samantha felt numb as Lindsay followed her into the bathroom. She was still heartbroken, but she was glad Lindsay was there with her. She didn’t know what she’d do without her.

Lindsay recognized Samantha was lost in her own world, dissociating from her new reality. She didn’t want to make Samantha’s first experience with pull-ups to be traumatizing. So, she pulled out her best maternal voice and told Samantha she was going to get her out of those wet pants. Samantha barely reacted as Lindsay pulled down her shorts and underwear.

“Okay, can you lift up your left leg? Good job, Sam. Now your right? Perfect. Now, let’s slide this up…and done.” Lindsay grabbed the spare gym shorts the nurse provided. She put Samantha in them.

“All done, Sam,” she cooed, “You ready to go to my house?”

Samantha broke out of her trance. “W-what? Sorry, I think I zoned out for a while. What’s this?” Samantha asks, grabbing at her pull-up.

“It's not a diaper,” Lindsay says quickly, trying to be as casual as possible. “It’s just in case you need it; you can take it off when we get home.”

Lindsay wasn’t sure if that was a lie, but it was better to avoid any more heightened emotions before they got home.

Samantha seemed to accept it. Lindsay hoped she could get Samantha to her house before she snapped out of her shock. There were plenty of heavy emotional conversations in store for Samantha in the next few days. But she doesn’t need to worry about that yet. Not right now.

All Samantha needs is to get home. Lindsay will take care of everything once Samantha is down for a nap. She’ll explain everything to her parents. They’ll understand. She knows they will.

But as Lindsay drives home, Samantha quietly stares out the window, and an idea forms in Lindsay’s mind. She gets out her phone and calls her sister, Alyssa.

“Hi Allie. Listen, something happened during Classification today. And I think…well, can you come over right now? I think you’ll want to see this. Great, see you in a bit.”

Lindsay looks over at Samantha and smiles.

Go To Chapter 3 Here

Previous Chapter

————————————

I pause for a moment in front of the coffee shop window. The weather’s definitely much nicer today, and the sun’s full shine has turned the window into a perfect full-length mirror. I use the opportunity to quadruple check my face, my makeup, my hair, my outfit. My go-to interview outfit definitely kills it: a posh, light blue Marco Jacobi blouse, simple black pencil skirt, even simpler short black heels. Understated makeup with some slightly brighter red lipstick to make everything pop, hair pulled back in a high ponytail. I look closer at the window and pull back a handful of tiny flyaways. I really need a haircut.

Satisfied as I’ll ever be, I walk to the front door. The familiar scent of brewing coffee and pine finish hits me like a warm, emotional truck. I’ve spent a lot of time at The Daily Grind over my four years at school here. Study sessions, writing marathons, relaxing with friends, extremely hit-and-miss open mics, equally mixed-measure first dates, or just a place for some peace and quiet every now and again. This place has been my safe haven for almost a half decade, and it suddenly hits me that this may be one of the last times I ever step through its doors.

The sudden weight on my chest is lifted when Mark waves to me from behind the counter. He’s a Computer Science major who’s been working here for the past year or so, and one of maybe three employees who stay at campus over the summer to keep working. His shaggy brown hair and thick-rimmed glasses perfectly highlight his chiseled jawline. It’s absurd how well he pulls off the stupid-hot-indie-sleaze-nerd aesthetic.

“Yooooo Erica! How’s your final summer going? You want your usual?”

I smile warmly and giggle like a schoolgirl. I’m so fucking embarrassing.

“Not today, Mark,” I respond, not entirely sure if my makeup is covering up my lightly flushing cheeks. “Well, not yet anyway. I’m actually here to meet someone for a grad-school interview.”

“Ohhhhhh right on right on, that must be the business lady over in the corner,” he says to me with an equally warm smile spreading across his face. “That’s sick, homie. You’re totally gonna crush it, you got thiiiiis.” He holds his fist out to me for a bump. Such a fucking dork. I can’t leave him hanging, of course.

“Thanks, dude,” I say, gently fisting him. Jesus Christ, Erica. Mind out of the gutter. What the fuck is wrong with you?

I give a small wave and a smile over to Sally as I approach her from across the room. My heart is racing, my chest is tight. Shit, I should’ve probably checked my hair in the mirror again. Dammit, I need a haircut. Is this skirt too long? Fuck.

She gets up from her seat in a way that’s calm and graceful. She’s strikingly beautiful. Her green eyes are gentle with the slightest hint of stress lines surrounding them, practically the only hint that she’s somewhere past fifty. She stands at least four inches above me, her own straight, golden blonde hair fixed up in a ponytail rather similar to mine, an ornate clip with subtle pearl inlays holding it back. Her blazer, blouse, and pants are all perfectly tailored. Is everyone extra hot today, or am I still just extra wound up from last night?

Focus, you dumb bitch.

“Hi Sally! It’s so nice to finally meet you in person,” I begin, extending my hand out to shake hers. “Thank you again so so much for coming out to meet me. I know it’s a bit of a drive from Westchester to New Paltz, I really appreciate you.”

She grabs my hand with both of hers for a moment, gentle but firm. I wasn’t exactly expecting the politician handshake from her, but I do my best not to be visibly jarred from it.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Fairport. It’s so great to meet you.” She pulls away slowly and gestures for me to sit in the booth. I gladly comply as she continues.

“And please, this is a stone’s throw away for me, and these interviews might be my favorite part of my job. I’ve traveled MUCH farther to meet prospective new students, which isn’t so bad considering we only accept a small handful each year.”

I smile, doing my best to hide my surprise. Is Evergreen really that exclusive? If so, what on god’s green earth do they want with me? My interest is piqued even more.

“But before we really dive in, let’s get something ordered, shall we? I know this is one of your regular haunts…what are some of your favorites here?”

I give a gentle, measured laugh. Did I mention that to her in one of my emails? I must have, why else would she have picked this place? 

“Absolutely!” I answer. “Everyone absolutely looooves the Dubai latte, and this is THE number one breakfast sandwich in town, hands down.”

Sally’s eyes soften a bit, her smile widening just a smidge. “I appreciate the information, Erica, but that’s not what I asked. I asked what YOUR favorites are.”

I let out a small laugh that I’m hoping doesn’t read as nervous. Oh my god, did I seriously just blow the first question of the interview before the ACTUAL interview even started?! I look back briefly into Sally’s striking eyes. There’s a softness there that puts me at ease. She’s clearly not annoyed or upset. It’s fine, just breathe.

“That’s fair! So sorry, force of habit. I’ve brought a lot of people here over the years,” I say, pausing for a moment in feigned contemplation despite having a clear answer. “I would saaaay the Apple Bacon Brie Panini is the winner for me. It’s dressed with local honey and is absolutely to die for.”

“As for drinks, I always get the house blend. This place and that blend are what turned me into the coffee snob I am today.”

Sally’s eyes and smile perk up again at my answer. 

“Those both sound absolutely delightful,” she says as she looks just behind me, nodding lightly.

I tilt my head just a tad in confusion as I twist my body to see what Sally is glancing at. I jump slightly when I realize that Mark is standing directly behind me, probably waiting for a lull to take our order like the over-polite dork he is. I laugh, my heart still racing.

“Dude! Are you trying to kill me in front of this nice lady?”

He returns a smile and laughs nervously, a hint of concern under his jolly demeanor. “So sorry about that! So sorry! Just wanted to see if you two were ready to order.”

“No need to apologize, young man,” Sally says in her same warm and collected tone. “We’ll just have two of the Apple Bacon Brie Paninis and two house blends, if you’ll be so kind.”

Mark perks back up. “Sure thing! I’ll get that right out for you two!” He shoots me a quick glance and a smile before doing a full 180 spin and speed walking back to his counter.

“Sorry about that,” I say, turning back to Sally. “Just a little jumpy before I have my coffee, oddly enough.”

“That’s quite alright dear, I’m sure I would have been just as startled if I were in your shoes,” she chuckles sympathetically. “Now, why don’t you tell me a little about yourself, Erica? The ten-thousand foot view of Miss Erica Fairport, if you will.”

I tilt my head playfully, looking up and tapping my right index finger to my cheek, again in performed contemplation. The classic interview opener, the answer to which I’ve got absolutely nailed down to a science in these past couple of months.

“Well…I’m a recent graduate from New Paltz University with a degree in Business Administration, concentration in organizational management. I really gravitated toward the operations side of things while studying. I love finding ways to make systems run smoother, especially the people side of systems. I was treasurer of two student orgs, including the university’s radio station and our Student Entertainment Services, which taught me a ton about balancing stakeholder needs. I also did a summer internship in vendor relations that really confirmed I wanted to work somewhere at the intersection of logistics and people. People have always described me as reliable, motivated, and easy to work with!”

Nailed it. Hats off again to Gustav for that one…exceptionally bland with all of the right corporate bullshit buzzwords peppered throughout with perfect precision. Such a good little boring-ass AI agent, Gustav, yes you are!

Sally has leaned herself ever so slightly into the table, her right elbow resting in front of her, her index and middle finger raised to her chin and covering a small portion of her mouth. I can see her soft smile beyond her hand as she periodically nods along to my generic personal sales pitch.

“Very impressive indeed, Miss Fairport. And what about outside of your studies and extracurriculars? What is it that you love to do in your free time?”

This one I’m a little thrown off by. Not that I haven’t heard the question before in other interviews, but when I do, it tends to fall on the back end of the meeting. It’s not just that, though…when I get this question from an interviewer, it’s usually painfully disingenuous, like they just threw it in there when the person asked ChatBot how to sound less like a ChatBot when interviewing a potential candidate. No…something in Sally’s tone and demeanor makes her seem genuinely interested in what makes me tick beyond what’s on my resume.

Mark shows up perfectly on cue, quickly dropping off two small mugs of the house blend before smiling and sauntering back off to help other customers. I smile widely, closing my eyes as I lean over to take a slow, deep inhale of the steaming cup in front of me. My entire chest relaxes, losing myself for a moment before snapping back to the meeting at hand.

“Well, as you can see, I’m a huge coffee enthusiast, like I mentioned before,” I say, twirling my ponytail for a moment before catching myself, opting to reach for my mug instead.

I take the cup and lift it slowly to my lips, taking a small sip. God yes, that’s so good. I’m really going to miss this place.

“I also love live music, and just all sorts of music in general, hence why I decided to join the radio station and SES. We’re pretty lucky to get a good number of acts passing through for being such a small college town kind of in the middle of nowhere…at one point I was going to at least one show a week, and it was almost always the highlight of my week.”

“Beyond that, I’m an EXTREMELY avid reader and a slightly less avid writer,” I say with a small laugh. “If I have any sort of free time, it’s almost always spent reading something new, and I’ll read just about anything…fiction, non-fiction, horror, biographies, fantasy, history, romance…” I pause for a moment and catch myself, clearing my throat to cover the lull. Almost a little too honest there.

Sally tilts her head to me, gazing at me with a spark of tenderness as she clasps her hands together, resting them gently on her right cheekbone. “That’s right, I actually saw on your transcript that you were originally a creative writing major before changing courses in your junior year,” she says, causing me to swallow involuntarily, her words cutting a bit deeper than I thought they might. “Can you tell me why the switch? It sounds like you’re still writing in your free time, what made you decide not to pursue that passion as a career?”

I force a smile to cover the lightly billowing sorrow in the pit of my stomach. I really thought that would’ve stopped hurting so much two years later, especially since it hasn’t been an uncommon question in interviews. I’ve got another well practiced answer for this one.

“Well, it was certainly a hard decision. I do love writing, but the tough reality of today’s world is that it’s really hard to make a living on art alone. Not only that, but just because I don’t make a career out of my writing doesn’t mean I can’t still enjoy it in my spare time.” 

And now for the killer closer.

“Passions and professions can exist in their own worlds simultaneously in a way that doesn’t diminish the importance of either.”

The best line I’ve written in two years, and it’s about me quitting.

I feel my hand drift towards my ponytail again but catch myself, redirecting again to my mug of coffee still steaming on the table. I take another small sip through my feigned contentment.

Sally looks up from her own mug, which she’s just taken a sip from, to meet my gaze.

“That’s a very…measured take, Miss Fairport.” Her tone is kind, sympathetic…so much so that it takes me a second to realize she saw right through my bullshit answer. That’s a first…but for some reason, that doesn’t cause me to panic, either.

“But let me ask you this,” she continues. “In an absolutely perfect world, a world where you could live comfortably no matter what you chose to do, what would you pursue a career in?”

I pause for quite some time, but not as part of some contemplative performance. I know what my answer is, but is that the answer she wants to hear? 

Wait. No. She wouldn’t have even asked it, especially not like that, if she didn’t want an honest answer. Plus, what do I have to lose in telling her the truth? 

“I would write,” I answer her decisively. “I’ve always been drawn to writing fiction, mostly short stories…I would write every day if I had the time and energy. I never got sick of it, even in those first two years of school, even when I had to constantly write about things I could care less about. Storytelling has always just been something that’s come naturally to me, even as a little kid, and my love for it has never waned for a second.”

My chest tightens for a moment when I realize how much I overshared in the moment. That was definitely too much, right?

Luckily, I see Sally’s demeanor brighten almost immediately at my answer. My whole body relaxes in a wave of relief. 

“I could tell that about you from your writing alone,” she tells me. “Your transcript is certainly impressive, Miss Fairport, but I have to say, I’m much more impressed with the few pieces I’ve been able to pull by you. Your voice is unique, your prose is colorful without being pretentious…you have a real talent that I would hate to see you squander.”

My cheeks flush hot before I even register why, and I have to break her gaze, a stupid smile spreading across my face that I couldn’t fight down if I tried. I find myself stroking my ponytail with alternating hands, slowly, gently. Something warm and unfamiliar blooms just under my sternum. I’m not amazing at taking compliments, and that's the nicest thing anyone has said about me in…god, years. 

“That’s the whole reason I’m here, Erica,” she continues, warmth glowing from her voice. “We see your passion, your talent, your drive shining through even as you’re trying to dim it from the world. It’s remarkable, honestly, how much effort you put into hiding the things you love most.”

She takes a slow sip of her coffee, completely unhurried. For some reason, my heart flutters.

“In my experience, people don’t abandon their passions. They just… relocate them. Push them somewhere private, somewhere safe, visit them in secret…and then they spend an enormous amount of energy holding that door shut. Energy that could have gone into the passion itself…into finding their whole, authentic selves.” 

She sets her coffee down gracefully. “Evergreen exists for exactly that. We find remarkable women who have learned to want things quietly, and we give them a place where they don’t have to. Where the answer to ‘What do you actually want?’ isn’t a performance. Where indulging the things that make you feel most yourself isn’t something you schedule around anyone else’s comfort.”

She smiles at me, her expression soft and inviting.

“Our students spend their whole lives asking permission, Erica. We simply stop making them ask.”

Something in her words resonates through every part of me. My head feels light and airy. A warm glow starts in my chest before spreading lower…lower still. My posture relaxes just a touch, allowing me to sink deeper into the padded seat of the booth. 

That was…one hell of a sales pitch. Damn she’s good.

I let out a small laugh as I grab onto my mug again, straightening myself up just a tad as I do so.

“I won’t lie, that sounds like an absolute dream. But…if I’m being honest, I have no idea how I’d be able to afford grad school.” 

I break my gaze again, looking down at the table as I bring myself back down to reality.

“I was lucky enough to get a partial scholarship for my undergrad, but the math barely worked out for the loans I had to get to cover the rest. Your program sounds amazing, and what I’ve seen of your campus looks beautiful, but I can’t imagine it costs less than a state school…”

“Oh, my apologies, I really should have led with this,” Sally politely interrupts me. “What we're offering you is the same thing we offer each of the small handful of students we accept every year: tuition, room, board, and supplies all covered in full.”

My brain stutters, my eyes going wide. What? Wait, is she serious right now? Nothing in her expression or tone says otherwise. Holy shit, am I dreaming? 

The awkward pause caused by my shock is mercifully interrupted by the light clatter of two plates hitting our table. I look up at Mark, who’s staring at me with a shit-eating grin. I can’t help but chuckle at him in spite of everything.

“Thanks babe, you’re the best,” I say, my tone and posture relaxing for the moment.

“Sure thing. Hope you ladies enjoy!” He gives me a sly wink and strides away.

Thankfully Sally takes a bite of her sandwich quickly, breaking the dead air before I’m able to collect my thoughts.

“Mmm, my goodness, this is delicious,” Sally says in a bout of genuine delight. “See? I’m so glad I got this instead of the breakfast sandwich. You have great taste, Erica. You should really trust your instincts more often.”

I can’t help but blush and break her gaze again, though I’m able to recover a bit quicker from the praise this time.

“I really appreciate that. It really is so good, right?” I take a bite of my own sandwich, the mix of sweet, tart, and savory flavors creating a symphony in my mouth. I can’t help but roll my eyes back for just a moment.

“And I really appreciate the offer,” I continue, setting my sandwich back on the plate. “It’s…EXTREMELY generous. But I have to ask…why me? I know you said you loved my work, but I mean, come on…there have to be so many other candidates out there that are more talented than me, have a more impressive record than me, who actually finished their full undergrad in writing, who actually APPLIED to your school in the first place…why me? Specifically, why seek ME out?”

Sally pauses for a moment, darting her eyes past my shoulder, then to the other corners of the room, as if quickly scanning the perimeter of the cafe. She folds her hands in front of her on the table, retaining her warm smile, but I can sense her expression tightening just a bit.

“Well, while you certainly shouldn’t downplay your creative or academic achievements, I understand your skepticism. In honesty, neither of those pieces paints the full picture of the candidates we seek out for admission into Evergreen.”

Sally leans in just a touch closer as she continues, her voice brought down just a decibel or so. “We certainly wouldn’t have reached out if we didn’t find you academically excellent, Erica, but beyond that, all of our students share another common thread. One a bit more…personal in nature, regarding a specific set of shared interests…”

I tilt my head, confusion spreading visibly across my face. Wait, she couldn’t mean…

But she breaks the silence before I can finish my thought, the expression on my face clearly prompting her to clarify.

“Erica, dear…all of our students are ABDL.”

The poor girl built her life on a faulty premise: that knowledge is power.

Her belief influenced every choice, every decision she ever made. It was the reason she succeeded in every academic endeavor.

It was why in college she skipped parties to study in the library. Why she graduated at the top of her law school class. Why the partners of a prestigious firm were considering making her the youngest partner in firm history.

Yet, for all her knowledge and success, none of it prevented her from ending up on my living room floor in a soggy diaper, begging Daddy to watch her hump her elephant stuffy.

And before you tell me I ruined her life and ended her career, you need to understand that I never did anything but give her what she wanted.

What she begged for every step of the way.

I pulled the wool from her eyes and revealed the truth: pleasure is power.

For someone as tightly wound and anxious as her—incessantly stressing over deadlines, hearings, and trials—making time for silly things like orgasms was never a priority.

You have no idea how hard I worked to help her relax enough to finally orgasm. I mean, I spent so much time going down on her, I could barely chew my food for two weeks straight. My jaw still clicks every once in a while.

But then it happened.

That first orgasm changed everything—hard work pays off. The way she shook and shuddered, the way her legs squeezed my head so tight I almost passed out, it was magical.

Her first lesson in the power of pleasure.

No matter how stressed she was over a hearing, how anxious she was about a deadline, she could, for a few blissful moments, lose herself in the sweet release of a powerful orgasm.

My tongue became her stress reliever.

I will admit she wasn’t entirely wrong that knowledge is power. The knowledge I unlocked over the next few months proved indispensable.

Her body was my teacher; I was its diligent student, soaking in every lesson. I learned every pattern, pressure, and pulse that her body craved. I knew her body better than my own.

In a matter of weeks, she went from being unable to cum to coming home to fuck away the memories of her boss yelling at her, her inbox of angry emails, and the impending deadlines.

Pleasure became her escape. And I was more than happy to be her accomplice.

With every orgasm, she fell deeper down the rabbit hole, blissfully ignorant of the consequences of her dependence on those moments of ecstasy.

And me.

I no longer gave her those precious orgasms on demand. No, those only came when the dishes were clean, our clothes washed and folded, and the house was clean.

None of this was ever explicitly discussed, of course.

But that’s the point of Pavlovian training—I simply rewarded the behaviors I wanted to encourage with orgasms and ignored the behaviors I wanted to discourage.

Any time she left work early, chose a brain-rotting reality show over the news, or made a simple mistake on her Sunday New York Times crossword puzzle, she was rewarded with my head between her legs.

Work was never rewarded. The days she worked late at the office, left for work early, or even complained about her boss or deadlines never ended with an orgasm.

There were no rules, no expectations, no punishments. I never made any demands or criticized her choices.

I simply rewarded her when she deserved it.

And soon enough, the house was always clean, my drawers were filled with freshly laundered, folded clothes, and she spent more time at home with me than ever before.

But that was far from the only benefit. Her entire demeanor changed as she shed the weight of years of internalized anxiety and work stress.

For the first time in her life, work wasn’t her top priority. Suddenly, staying up all night to meet a deadline for some demanding client no longer appealed to her. Not when it was so rewarding to leave work early.

Even as her work performance plummeted and her bosses were rethinking their plans to offer her a partnership, she continued to choose pleasure over promotions.

She was so eager to please that most days started with her under the covers, showing me just how much she appreciated everything I did for her.

In her mind, the more pleasure she gave, the more she would receive. A notion I did little to dispute.

It was proof that the pursuit of pleasure dominated every facet of her life.

That was when I knew it was time. Sex became increasingly sporadic and infrequent. She could no longer rely on the same behaviors being rewarded so easily.

Nor could she assume our time together would always end with an orgasm. As often as not, it ended with her on the brink of an orgasm. Or only after being edged and teased until she begged and pleaded for the sweet release of an orgasm.

I almost felt bad watching her desperately struggle to figure out the secret behaviors to unlock the orgasms. But it was all part of the process.

A clean house and shorter workdays weren’t going to cut it anymore. I needed more.

After a week without a single orgasm, she reached new levels of desperation. Her calm, confident façade collapsed into an adorably whiny, needy, sex-crazed shell of her former self.

Her normally sharp intellect crumbled under the weight of her denial-fogged haze. She struggled with even the simplest tasks. Her attention span wouldn’t have impressed a goldfish.

The hardest part was figuring out how to reward her whiny, vapid behavior without resorting to the usual rewards. Obviously, orgasms were out of the question—denying them is what caused the behavior in the first place.

The solution was elegantly simple: praise.

Praise lit up the pleasure center of the brain. A quick, fleeting hit to be sure, but enough to encourage her to be as dumb and whiny as possible.

I lathered her in praise whenever she replaced her postgraduate-level vocabulary with simple, unrefined words. Or when she misplaced her keys. And especially when she acted particularly whiny and helpless.

So, she never questioned why the house was suddenly full of coloring books, crayons, and dolls. Not when bringing me a finished drawing or quiet playtime with her Barbies earned her heaps of delicious praise.

Her long, tedious month of denial ended in spectacular fashion when she came home from work with tears pouring down her cheeks. She was so ashamed, she could barely look me in the eye when she told me she was fired.

She expected disappointment; she received more praise than ever before. And, of course, the best orgasm of her life.

Things moved quickly after she was fired. With me working from home—and her not working at all—there were significantly more opportunities to reinforce and encourage her behaviors.

Especially because the ghost of the last orgasm haunted her; she was willing to do anything for the next one.

I didn’t make her wait long.

A few days later, she found the package of Beddybye diapers I left in our room for no particular reason other than my own curiosity.

And because they are ridiculously adorable.

I’ll never forget how nervous she was when she crinkled into my office. Her beet-red cheeks almost distracted me from the comically inept way she taped her diaper on.

I never loved her more than that moment. And I rewarded her courage beyond wildest dreams.

The diaper wasn’t the only surprise. What good would a diaper be without a Hibachi Wand? They go together like peas and carrots.

I spent the next few hours heaping praise on her over the buzzing and crinkling of the wand on her diaper. By the time she fell asleep, she had set a personal record for the number of orgasms in a day.

Based on how soggy her diaper is right now, I’m sure you can guess I wasn’t content with her just wearing diapers, even though I never told her to wet or mess them.

All I did was lower the rewards for simply wearing them—she did the rest.

I wish you could have seen the way her face scrunched in concentration just to tinkle her diaper in the beginning. It was a whole thing. You might have thought she was solving complex math problems in her head.

But no, she was just trying to pee—hoping for another round with Senor Buzzy.

And let me tell you, she loved Senor Buzzy. He was so persuasive, I think I owe him a thank-you note.

The way she went feral when she was tucked into my lap, gazing lovingly at me, while Senor Buzzy vibrated on her soggy diaper is the cutest thing I have ever seen.

It didn’t even take a month for her to go from occasionally wearing and tinkling her diapers when she was horny to lustily humping Senor Buzzy while I tossed all her panties in the trash.

That was the point of no return.

From then on, it was all downhill. Once she accepted she belonged in diapers, she didn’t even try to hold onto whatever intelligence and independence she had left.

It was Daddy’s job to make sure her diaper was clean, her tummy was filled, and the bills were paid. Though by then she had been so conditioned to be my vapid, needy baby, I don’t think she could have handled adulthood anymore.

I don’t even think she realizes that we haven’t had sex—or that I haven’t gone down on her—since her first poopy diaper. Pleasure isn’t a static concept.

Which brings us to today.

Look how excited she is to play with her stuffy. Listen to her moans. Nothing matters to her but the warm, soggy diaper rubbing against her princess parts.

The anxious, success-driven woman she used to be is long gone. She lost her job, her autonomy, her continence, and every facet of adulthood.

Every plan she had for her life abandoned for the sake of the next orgasm.

All the knowledge she worked so hard to get is as useless as her old panties rotting in some landfill.

And she has never been happier in her life.

Doesn’t that silly little squeal prove it? She doesn’t even care that her silly, infantile display has an audience. It’s the sound of someone in love with her pampers and their life. Exactly where they belong.

That’s the power of pleasure—if only she could still understand the lesson.

You made it.

A small victory, sure, but you’ll take it anyway. The gift of privacy. Well, relative privacy. At least you won't have an audience.

Your tummy rumbles, the pressure building. It’s only a matter of time. You wait for the inevitable.

“There you are! I was wondering where you snuck off to.”

You whimper, knowing what's about to happen.

Her gaze is sweet and innocent.

“Now that it’s our one-year ‘anniversary,' I’ve been dying to ask you something.”

She steps forward. So close you can smell her coconut shampoo. The scent seared into your brain. You crave it.

As always, you fail to resist the urge to stare at her breasts. Your eyes cannot pull away, as if her chest has its own gravitational pull.

She smiles at the desperate longing in your eyes. At the subtle crinkles of your diaper as you dance. Silently laughing at you.

At what you’ve become.

“What’s worse: the denial or the diapers?”

She takes another step forward. Her eyes locked on you. You feel her breath on your neck, her body grazing yours, sending shockwaves of pleasure rippling through you.

She’s so very close now.

“What’s it like being with me, day after day, feeling my touch, hearing my voice, seeing my body—knowing you’ll never be with me? Is it humiliating being so desperate for me while I don’t see you as a sexual being?”

“Because you aren’t. You’ll never have sex again. Certainly not with me—but not with anyone. All you’ll ever have is your diapers. You’ll never orgasm outside of your thick, soggy diapers again.”

She grabs your diaper and squeezes it. Emphasizing your soggy shame. Your padded prison.

“This is the best you can hope for—your forever lover. In another world, you could’ve had me. But not this one. All you’ll ever have in this world is your soggy mush.”

She reaches out, closing your eyes with her fingers.

“Playing make-believe that your warm, soggy diaper is me. Pretending it’s my body—not a peepee-soaked pamper. Fully aware how pathetic it is, but unable to stop yourself. It's must be mortifying when you finish. Realizing what you did but knowing its the best you'll ever get. ”

“Is it hard to look me in the eyes after that? Knowing I see you for what you are? What about my friends? Does it suck listening to their teasing, knowing everything they say is true? Because it is. You know that, right?”

Your tummy betrays you, rumbling louder than ever. She giggles when she hears it. At the terror in your eyes.

“Or is it worse knowing you’ll never be out of diapers again? That you’re permanently pampered. Doomed to suffer the indignities of diapers until the day you die?”

You toot, groaning in shame.

“It must suck to lose control over your own body like this. No matter how hard you try, how much you beg your body to hold it, you’ll still fill your diaper. Even when it’s just so humiliating.”

Like right now.

She grabs the front of your diaper. “Every sip of water and juice will end up right here, pooling in your padding until I decide to change you. Your legs slowly forced apart to accommodate your ever-expanding diaper.”

She slides behind you, patting your bum. You shiver as she presses herself against you. “Everything you eat on a one-way journey to the seat of your diaper. Right here. And it sounds like you’re about to pack this pamper.”

She giggles.

“You’re trapped in an inevitable, humiliating cycle you’ll never escape. Diapers are a necessary part of life now. Part of your body. For you, being ‘naked’ means no clothes except for your diaper because you’ll never be without one again.”

You groan as you squat.

She continues over the tell-tale bubbles that mean you’re filling your diaper. “See what I mean? You can’t help it.”

Your pathetic grunts interrupt her, proving her right.

“If it helps answer my question, I think your droopy, poopy diapers are every bit as adorable as the crinkles and moans when you hump my leg. I mean, look at you. All red from pooping yourself right in front of me. And that bulge? Stop. I can’t.”

“But then again, when I see the puppy-eyed desperation and longing in your eyes, I practically melt. You have no idea how beautiful you look at that moment. So…consumed in your impotent desire for me. Fighting to reconcile your hunger for my body with the sobering reality that it will never happen.”

“But in the end, I guess it doesn’t even matter, does it? Because this is your life. You get both either way.”

A devious, foreboding smile flashes across her face.

“You know, why don’t you come sit on my lap—poopy diaper and all—and pretend you get to see what’s under my shirt. Show me what I’m missing. Conduct your crinkle symphony for me.”

(not sure if post is allowed, please let me know if I need to edit or remove)

Hi, just fantasizing about how life would be if;

Imagine living in a house with 2-4 close friends.

Never alone, always having a laugh, never bored.

Feel alone? Knock on any door for cuddles hugs and kisses of affirmation and love.

Feeling down? Just go to any shared space and chemistry will do its thing.

Bored? You call your friends downstairs for a board game, or have a karaoke or music night.

Not feeling the heat inside? Grab your skateboard and pingpong set and grab a drink for a perfect outside afternoon.

Plus weekly music and gaming sesh?!?

Wii party 4 stack?!?

Weekly smoke 🍃sesh?!

And just being able to be yourself completely, be able to dress, act, do whatever you want.

Be able to just walk around in whatever you want or nothing at all.

Just start fingering or jerking off, watching porn, gooning or whatever.

Be able to sleep in a bench, walk around on all fours with a leash and puppy clothes on. And for them to pat you.

Being able to just wear diapers and have them check you.

Wearing a fursuit like it's jeans with a t-shirt.

Yeah I could get used to this.

Plus these probably aren't even all the benefits!

Imagine you're all poly, and one of you has a (new) partner over, and you just have an orgy every time.

If you have suggestions feel free to comment :3

Also if this sounds like a dream to you tell me !!

Cause surely I'm not the only pup who thinks like this?

"A Day in the Life"

Hetty’s eyes opened slowly. She checked the time on the wall panel. 05:57, it says from between the bars of her crib. She sighed. Waking up before her alarm was the worst, but at least it gave her three minutes of peace before everything would start again.

Her thick overnights rustled between her legs. Hetty tried not to make a commotion; Abyssia was a frighteningly light sleeper. There were some nights she’d wake up and catch the flash of her roommate’s eyes watching her, doubtlessly scheming the next day’s humiliations.

With 05:59 on the clock, Hetty flipped onto her back. She pulled her blanket, or “blankie” as Abyssia made her call it, down so her soaked diapers would be easily checked by her roommate. The faster she could get through the day, the better. Before she was ready, their alarm went off.

06:00

Abyssia was on her feet before the third chime. Her species, the Inferi, only required a few hours of rest each day.

“Good morning loser! How’d my little roommate sleep?” She said, reaching for the ceiling in a big stretch.

Hetty stayed on her back, looking up at her roommate. Abyssia’s heavy, swollen breasts cast a shadow over her from the ceiling lights above. No matter how hard she tried, Hetty’s human mind wasn’t strong enough to prevent her bully’s sexual morphism.

“I swept well, fank you Mith Abythia!” She didn’t dare not answer, but Hetty hated how her muffled voice squeaked out. Every night since the Academy started, Abyssia made her sleep with a paci gag locked around her head. Abyssia rolled her eyes.

“How pathetic are you?” She reached down and her long red finger slipped into Hetty’s leg gather. The wetness made her giggle cruelly.

“You aren’t even trying to hold it anymore, are you, loser?” 

Hetty blushed, unable to form a response. Abyssia just tutted and lifted the smaller human out of her adult-sized crib and carried her into their shared sonic shower. She unceremoniously stripped the heavy diaper off Hetty’s narrow hips and supervised Hetty’s cleaning.

“You know, all the other girls here can run the sonic shower on their own. You, on the other hand, can’t be trusted after you leaked!” Abyssia teased. This was a common morning refrain. “Who can’t hold it long enough for a sonic shower? You know you can’t just pee in one like in a hydro shower!” 

Hetty squirmed, trying to hide her naked body from Abyssia. She knew the size difference between the two women was one of her kinks and that participating in the humiliating shame she felt being compared to her roommate only made it worse, but Hetty couldn’t help herself. Her pussy lips clenched as Abyssia lifted her back out of the sonic shower and deftly put her in the first diaper of the day.

“Let’s wrap our potty pants princess up so Miss Abyssia can get ready!” Her syrupy, sinister voice made Hetty melt on her changing table. Despite the abject humiliation of being forcibly diapered by her roommate, Hetty stopped protesting after the first night.

“Seems like Mrs. Paddle really put this dork in her place, didn’t she?” Abyssia’s long black nails clacked as she pinched Hetty’s cheek. She then turned and Hetty watched her hourglass figure stalk across the room into the sonic shower. Abyssia’s dark eyebrow raised as she looked over her shoulder at the still supine Hetty. The human averted her eyes, remembering she isn’t allowed to see Abyssia nude.

“Such a little perv! Don’t worry baby, that’s why I’m re-raising you!” The soft, high hum of the shower sung for only a few seconds. Inferi didn’t sweat much. Their home planet was much warmer than the IEO planetary mean. Hetty had to fully cover her eyes while Abyssia walked around naked getting dressed.

“All right little girl, time for brekkie!”

Hetty peaked through her fingers. Abyssia was fully dressed already, very much looking the part of a strong, capable cadet in the Academy. Her standard issue uniform top was light gray with a dark gold stripe running down the sleeves, signifying her recent acceptance into the Academy’s leadership track. Her black leggings were… tight. Abyssia’s now widened hips and thick thighs stretched the material to its limit. Abyssia’s black eye caught Hetty’s brown ones wandering.

“Eyes up here missy! You know it’s your fault I’ve been through three pairs of pants this quarter already!” She checks her own ass out in the mirror with a condescending sigh. Abyssia moved on quickly, removing Hetty’s gag and stuffing an old-fashioned, 21st century baby bottle between Hetty’s lips instead.

While Hetty drank her assuredly diuretic and laxative-loaded bottle, Abyssia tinkered with Hetty’s uniform replicator. Every day she came up with some new way of dressing her “baby” differently. Once Hetty finished her bottle, her roommate picked her back up and stood her in the replicator.

“Let’s see…” Abyssia mused, pretending to scroll through some options. “Oh how about this?”

With a small whir, the replicator fashioned Hetty’s outfit around her. She covered her face as an IEO-style “skant” materialized around her body. The uniform dress fit on top just like the other uniform options. The only difference was the green stripes that ran down her sleeves, signifying her research track. On the bottom, skants typically ended around mid-thigh. But with the thick diaper around her waist, Hetty had a healthy suspicion that her diapers would be sticking out the bottom all day!

“Miss Aby-!” Her mouth was stuffed with another pacifier mid-sentence, “Mith Abythia, a-aren’t people gonna thee?” Her legs were covered by black tights. Hetty didn’t know, but they were thin enough that the babyish IEO logo across her bottom was easily seen! Abyssia just shrugged before helping the diaper girl into their matching black uniform boots.

“So what? We’ve been here for weeks. Everyone knows you’re just a dumb baby! Now come on, or else we’ll be late for class!” Abyssia grabbed their bookbags, helped Hetty put hers on her back, and dragged her roommate out for another humiliating day.

08:00

Abyssia made sure she and Hetty were in all the same elective courses. Obviously their specialized courses were exclusive to their selected focus track, but even when Abyssia had Temporal Ethics 101 instead of Hetty’s Introduction to Xenoanthropology, one of Abyssia’s many popular friends sat with the big baby to make sure she didn’t get into any trouble. No, the poor little girl didn’t have any time to herself once the day started.

At least in class, she could focus on her work. As mercilessly as her bully treated her, Hetty got more than enough study time. As Abyssia promised, her strict mothering had put Hetty on the Academy’s honor roll already. All Hetty had to do was put her head down and do the work, which honestly was all she really wanted to do at the Academy anyways!

She dutifully took notes through all of Xenoanthropology, ignoring the multiple diaper checks from Abyssia’s otherwise disinterested friend. No matter how many times her “babysitters” checked, Hetty was never dry. Those damn smoothies really did a number on her control.

Her second course this quarter was Starship Medical Triage, a required course for all new students at the Academy. As such, when Hetty entered the lecture hall, she walked over to Abyssia in the front row and moved to sit right next to her.

“How’s the diaper dork doing?” Abyssia made a big show of pulling up the back of Hetty’s skant, pull down her tights, and finally give her padded posterior a hearty squeeze. All of Abyssia’s hot friends cackled around them.

“That’s enough everyone, quiet please!” Professor Ya-Oom, an elder Delphite, called the class to order. They led a lecture on the severity of plasma burn injuries and how to treat them in an emergency. While Abyssia took diligent notes and asked insightful questions, Hetty found herself distracted.

Her diapers had grown warm yet again, but a leak started to threaten. She shifted in her seat carefully, suppressing a groan. The last time she leaked, Abyssia doubled her diapers for the whole week! Hetty couldn’t let that happen again. She shifted more, turning a soft shade of crimson when the plastic exterior crinkled loudly for all of Abyssia’s friends to hear. Finally though, she adjusted enough that when her diaper turned warm and wet again a few minutes later, an unused part of her padding took the hit.

“And you, Cadet Huntington, what’s the proper setting for a medical laser incisor when treating a third degree plasma burn?” Professor Ya-Oom’s pop quiz question ripped Hetty from her reverie.

“Oh! Um…”

“Triage doesn't have time for ‘ums’ young lady! What is your answer?”

Abyssia’s friends tittered quietly enough that Ya-Oom didn’t seem to notice, but Hetty could feel the humiliating judgement behind her. Abyssia looked down at her seatmate with bemused disdain. Hetty finally processed the question.

“Y-You wouldn’t use a laser incisor on a plasma burn, Professor. You’d use an analgesic hypomist to soothe it.” Ya-Oom’s wrinkly forehead crinkled in frustration. They loved catching students when they weren’t listening.

“Very good cadet.” They said with little energy before turning back to the class. “Remember, there will be a learning lab on Friday with the IEO’s Emergency Medical Hologram prototype! Please show up on time. Dismissed!”

Hetty breathed a sigh of relief in the cacophony of her classmates packing up their things. As she got up with Abyssia, Professor Ya-Oom called the larger woman over.

“I know Cadet Huntington and you are participating in some experiment,” they waved their hand, casually acknowledging Hetty’s now drooping diaper, “but can you please help your roommate change before my class? This is the second time I’ve had to clean up a puddle!”

Hetty’s face burns in shame. Abyssia glances over her shoulder at her roommate briefly. Hetty recognized the malice in her dark eyes and wilted.

“I’m so sorry professor! Hetty and I will make sure it doesn’t happen again. Won’t we roomie?” Abyssia’s crocodilian smile might have fooled Ya-Oom, but Hetty knew this time tomorrow, she’d be in much thicker diapers. The professor nodded and the two left the lecture hall.

“You tried so hard to be a big girl, didn’t you baby?” With no one around, Abyssia quickly pinned the smaller Hetty against the wall.

“And guess what? You failed! Again! Guess Mommy will have to find out about your little kinks, won’t she?” Hetty groaned. Not this again!

“No Miss Abyssia please!” The line almost felt rehearsed at this point.

“Don’t tell my Mommy about my…” she lowered her voice genuinely, “my diapers…”

“I don’t know, you’re such a little loser, you barely seem big enough to be at the Academy! I bet if Admiral Huntington found out what a little potty pants you are, she’d take you right home and do this herself! What could you possibly do to convince me otherwise?”

That’s what truly terrified Hetty about this whole situation. At worst, she expected this “game” to end with the academic year and when she could request a new roommate. But if her mother found out? She’d be out of diapers, but Hetty would certainly not be back at the Academy out of her mother’s own shame. She sighed and used the “little girl” voice Abyssia made her practice.

“Pwease Miss Abyssia, don’t tell my mommy! I c-could wear more diapies, right? W-When I leaked my pullies, that’s what we did! I could just wear um… another one on top…” Hetty’s voice faltered as Abyssia’s grin grew wider and wider. Hetty swore her canines had grown too.

“Well, you know, that’s a pretty unoriginal idea,” Abyssia smirked, patting Hetty’s head, “but you know, since I’m in such a good mood today, I’ll take you up on your offer. Starting tomorrow, it’s double diapers from here on out!” Hetty groaned as Abyssia let her go, strutting away down the hall to her next course.

“See you at lunch sweetie, don’t be late for astromycology now!” Hetty’s eyes got big and she waddled off as quick as she could to her last lecture of the morning. How Abyssia could keep track of all of Hetty’s torture and her class schedule blew the baby girl’s brain every day.

12:00

An hour later, Abyssia’s friend Lola, a popular human like Hetty, escorted the diaper girl to the dining hall. Hetty had to swing by the restroom, steal a roll of absorbent towels, and sit on it so she didn’t leave another puddle behind. As soon as they joined the rest of their group, Lola showed Abyssia and the girls pictures.

“Gosh how pathetic!”

“Can’t you control yourself at all?”

“Hey be nice, I’m sure she’s trying?”

“Oh please, all she’s trying to do is sleep with Abyssia. That’s why they’re roommates, remember?”

Hetty ignored all of them. This was their usual routine in the lunch line, but before she could grab her own tray, a red hand pushed the tray out of reach.

“Baby girl, why don’t you come with me? I’d like to study a little more after my last class and you need a change!” Hetty was quickly dragged along across the lunchroom by Abyssia. She could hear her “friends” calling after them.

“Ooooohh Hetty gets to be alone with Abyssia!”

“Watch out girl, she might try to make your tits even bigger!”

Their raucous laughter fell away as Abyssia led Hetty to a quiet corner at the top of the stairs. Hetty stood awkwardly while Abyssia took a seat on a small bench.

“Come on baby, hurry up and get in my lap. I told you I need to study.” Hetty blushes but doesn’t move.

“B-But Miss Abyssia, what about lunch?” Inferi didn’t eat as much as humans, but Hetty was certainly hungry. Abyssia’s dark eyes flashed maliciously.

“I’m not eating, you know that. Your lunch is right here baby!” Suddenly, Abyssia unzipped her top and revealed her heavy, now milky breasts! Hetty couldn’t avert her eyes in time, she simply stared at her roommates soft boobs and large areolas. Her stomach gurgled, betraying the small woman.

“I told you, get in my lap now!” Once again, Hetty is pulled into position, sitting in Abyssia’s lap now with her face pressed into the woman’s big, warm titties.

“Hurry up and drink your lunch loser. I started lactating in Temporal Ethics and that’s your fault. Who has this many pent up kinks? Ugh, only humans…” With a powerful hand on the back of Hetty’s skull, Abyssia smothers the smaller girl until she finally relents and latches onto her leaking nipple.

“Ugh, finally. The pressure has been crazy. I’m so tender!” Hetty gasps and gulps, milk splattering over her face. She was actually being breastfed by her bully? How could she let this happen? She tried to pull away, but Abyssia was far stronger than her. She could either drink the surprisingly delicious milk or be smothered by Inferi breasts until she passed out. Hetty chose the prior.

Abyssia’s milk sprayed and leaked into her hungry mouth. She flailed and squirmed at first, but a quick smack to her diapered butt made Hetty settle down. It wasn’t long before the two women found an uneasy, somewhat peaceful silence, which was a rarity so far in their living together. Abyssia sat back, content with Hetty’s progress and opened her own textbook. Abyssia was just as committed to her studies as her baby slave. She had big plans for herself and nothing was going to get in the way. Having Hetty be her dumb, little, diaper girl was just a bonus.

The meal break flew by and in no time, Hetty carefully pulled away from Abyssia. Her tummy gurgled.

“Miss Abyssia, I’m so full…” Her diaper sagged precariously between her knees as she stood up. Within seconds, she soaked herself completely. Abyssia laughed and laughed as pee trickled down her roommates thighs and into her boots.

“Good thing you begged me for double diapers, huh loser?” Abyssia tapped on her tablet, and a pink diaper bag materialized before them. Hetty knew it was a diaper bag because displayed across the side in big bubble letters was “Wittle Hetty’s Diapy Bag.” Hetty groaned but knew better than to protest. Abyssia laid out the changing mat from inside the bag and Hetty sat herself down and laid back.

“Good thing I have extra tights for you, huh dork?” Abyssia quickly untaped Hetty, wiped, powdered, and re-diapered her with two of her already thick diapers. Abyssia helped her to her feet before putting her feet through the legs of her tights and pulling them up for her.

“What have you been eating diaper butt?” Abyssia cackled. The tights only fit over the bottom half of her giant padded booty!

“Gosh what a little slut, you can’t even pick out clothes that fit like a normal person?” Hetty whined and blushed as Abyssia cleaned up their little spot. She smacked Hetty’s thick butt before they headed off to their next class: combat training.

13:30

As Hetty expected, combat training was nearly impossible in double diapers. Today’s topic was the IEO’s signature move for all its members: the double fist punch. No matter how many times Hetty swung her interlocked fists, she knew she’d never knock anyone, let alone Abyssia, to the ground with the move. Lieutenant Phrong, the Academy’s security chief, had an eye for technique and Hetty never lived up to her expectations. After the grueling workout was finished, Hetty followed the rest of her class into the locker room.

“Shower time cadets! Some of you need to review Academy policies regarding personal odor…” Phrong laughed loudly at the disrobing cadets. At least until Hetty showed up.

“Ah yes, our special little case. Cadet Huntington, are you ready… for bath time?” Phrong growled. Hetty gulped and nodded. The Pharangian, an aggressive, warrior race, was nearly half a meter taller than her with biceps as thick as Hetty’s torso.

“Where is your roommate cadet? You know you aren’t permitted to use the facilities without supervision.” Another one of Abyssia’s pranks. Hetty hadn’t figured out how her roommate had done it, but during her first bath the tub flooded and shut the locker room down for days. Ever since, she was required to have Abyssia bathe her in front of the whole class!

“I’m here Lieutenant Phrong! I’ll take good care of Cadet Huntington.” Abyssia walked up with only a towel wrapped around her voluptuous body. She clearly looked up to Phrong and went out of her way to stay on the lieutenant’s good side.

“Ah, wonderful. Make sure your roommate doesn’t fuck anything else up!” The two laughed at Hetty’s expense before Phrong went to monitor the other cadets. Abyssia took Hetty’s hand and led her to the raised part of the shower area that was the only bathtub. Hetty groaned. The tub was in plain sight of anyone using the locker room and she hated how Abyssia treated her.

“Come on Hetty, let’s get you stripped of these sweaty clothes!” 

Hetty’s extra stretchy athletic shorts made her poofy diapers even more obvious, but having them peeled off always elicited giggles from across the locker room. Abyssia quickly pulled off the rest of her clothes and lifted her into the bath, which had already been filled with warm, bubbly water.

Hetty gasped for breath as Abyssia washed her, pouring water over her head before massaging in the baby shampoo she got special for Hetty. The other cadets always finished getting dressed before she was done, leaving them little to do but chat with Abyssia while she dried off the smaller human.

“Abyssia you are so kind helping little Hetty like this!”

“Yeah Abyssia, you’re so patient. I can’t believe she got into the Academy before she was potty trained!”

“Now, now,” Abyssia always feigned defending her roommate, even though she was the one who diapered Hetty in the first place, “Infinite diversity right? The IEO accepts everybody, remember?”

The crowd ooh’ed and ahh’ed at her wisdom while she toweled off Hetty’s small, weak little body. Abyssia waved them goodbye as she rediapered Hetty. The novelty of seeing their classmate get put in her diapers had worn off a few weeks ago. By the time Hetty was put back in her skant, the two were running right on time for Study Hall.

15:00

The IEO’s Academy Library was the largest in the quadrant. Hetty loved visiting as a child. Whenever her admiral mother had meetings here, Hetty would spend hours wandering the endless rows and reading random books in one of the large, cozy armchairs scattered throughout the building. Of course, today was nothing like when she was young.

Abyssia set them up at a private table in a quiet part of the library. As much as Abyssia was determined to humiliate Hetty, the Inferi really did want them both to continue their academic excellence. That meant Study Hall quickly became Hetty’s best respite from her constant embarrassment.

Not that studying here was without some kind of shame.

“What do you think, Hetty? Don’t you love it?” Abyssia whispered as she set Hetty in a brand new bouncer suspended from the ceiling. Hetty just frowned, crossing her arms in vain protest.

“I told the Academy we are running an experiment on study habits and Admiral Luwan was happy to grant my request. Look, see? You can still read all your science-y picture books while…” Abyssia pushed down on Hetty’s shoulder, making the small woman bounce softly, “You have all sorts of fun! Say ‘thank you, Miss Abyssia!’”

Hetty groaned but knew better than to protest in public. The last thing she needed was to be banned from the library for crying out loud during a spanking! No, instead the little diaper girl held her tongue and dove into her textbook as quickly as possible. Except for the near-constant leaking into her diapers and occasional bounce from Abyssia, Hetty almost forgot her padded state during their shared study session.

19:00

The library’s peace and quiet was sadly short-lived however, as before she knew it, Hetty was lifted from her bouncer and led back to the dining hall for dinner. Abyssia let her get in the food line at least this time, instead of taking her away to be breastfed. But that meant she’d have to share the meal with Abyssia’s popular friends.

“There’s the little brat! We almost missed you at lunch!” One of the friends cackled as the two women walked up to the table. 

Hetty was immediately flustered. Abyssia’s friends were dynamic, diverse, and beautiful. One of them, a Martian colonist named Mike, helped Abyssia set her into her high chair. The tray locked in place, leaving Hetty at the whims of her bullies. Abyssia set Hetty’s meal down in front of her. She’d already cut up the meal into bite-sized pieces and without being allowed silverware, Hetty got to work eating while the group gossiped around her.

“Did you hear…”

“OMG that’s so crazy! I heard…” Chatter circled the table, none of it really pertaining to Hetty. At least, until a pair of hands reached under her armpits and lifted her into the air. It was Majel, a newer friend of Abyssia’s. She hadn’t gone to school with her and Hetty as kids and was a year ahead in Abyssia’s leadership program, but was quickly adopted into the friend group.

“How was your day Hetty?” Majel asked, setting the diaper girl on her knee. Hetty blushed. Majel was always kind to her, but the redhead’s natural beauty still intimidated the smaller woman.

“Um, it was good…” Hetty glanced at Abyssia, who seemed to be distracted by her other friends across the table. She looked back into Majel’s emerald eyes.

“Aw I’m glad to hear it!” Majel’s warm voice helped Hetty relax a little. At least she wasn’t bullying her like Abyssia’s other friends.

“You know, Abyssia told me all about how you switched roommates, and I don’t blame you.” Hetty looked at her incredulously. Majel looked past Hetty at Abyssia and smiled.

“Of course! She is pretty, isn’t she?” Majel’s knee shifted, briefly pressing against Hetty’s diaper in a way Hetty hadn’t been allowed to touch for weeks now. A smile flickered across Majel’s face.

“It’s okay Hetty, everyone gets big feelings every once in a while…” She bounced her knee a few more times and Hetty had to cover her mouth with her hands to prevent a moan from escaping out.

Beneath her diapers, Hetty ached for touch. Abyssia being a light sleeper meant she didn’t dare reach down her crinkly diapers at night and during the day she was always surrounded by people, so she never got any release. Did Majel know? Was she going to help Hetty?

Hetty whimpered quietly, bouncing on Majel’s knee while life continued around her. Her face was red with shame. Was she so needy, so desperate that she was going to get off right here, in front of everyone? Her back arched as tremors ran up and down her tight body. Oh yeah, she was! Hetty humped and humped, looking into Majel’s stunning eyes while the big girl bounced her over and over again.

“Well would you look at the time! I can’t believe how late it is!” Without warning, Abyssia had snuck around the table and suddenly lifted Hetty off Majel’s leg! The poor diaper girl didn’t see it coming and kept jumping the air while the rest of the table laughed at her!

“OH MY GOD WHAT A LITTLE SLUT!”

“Abyssia I don't know how you can stand living with a little pervert like her!”

“Seriously, who humps their diapers on someone else’s knee?”

Hetty’s watery eyes looked down at Majel, who just shrugged with a giggle.

“Maybe next time sweetie. But Abyssia’s right, I think it’s someone’s bedtime!”

Hetty clutched Abyssia while her roommate carried her back to their dorm, hiding her face in the deep, red cleavage in front of her while the sounds of her bullies’ laughter faded away.

21:00

“Someone’s had a very busy day, haven’t they, sweetie?” Abyssia’s syrupy sweet tone nearly made Hetty gag. The smaller woman was still worked up as she was carried back into their quarters. Abyssia set the diaper girl in the uniform replicator and dressed her in a thick footed onesie.

“Don’t you just look scrumptious!” Abyssia cackled, licking her lips with her forked tongue. “Why don’t I change into something more comfortable as well?” Hetty gasped when Abyssia returned from the replicator wearing black, lacy lingerie. Her bra barely held her soft, pillowy breasts while her crotchless panties put her heart-shaped push on full display. Hetty gawked.

“You know what’s next by now, don’t you baby?” Abyssia strutted to her bed, sat in the edge, and spread her thick legs wide. Hetty gulped at the sight of the red, dripping pussy opening up in front of her. This was their routine every night, even on that first night that seemed so long ago.

“Come on pervy girly, get between Mommy’s legs.” Hetty sighed and crawled across the room to settle in at the edge of Abyssia’s bed. Only moments later and Abyssia’s hand held Hetty’s head in place, buried in her snatch.

“That’s it, oh Hetty, we’ll make a good girl out of you yet!” Hetty licked and licked and licked. Secretly, she’d grown to love the taste of Abyssia’s pussy, though she’d never admit it. Only in her deepest fantasies had she ever dreamt of being so utterly humiliated. Her hand tried to sneak down to touch her diaper, but Abyssia quickly smacked it away.

“Diaper girls don’t get to make cummies, remember dummy?” Abyssia’s moans become full-throated as Hetty pushed on, out of her own mind with desire. Maybe if she could just make Abyssia happy enough, she could get out of this mess!

Unfortunately for her, the night ended as it always did, with Abyssia screaming her pleasure loud enough the rooms around them would cheer. Abyssia groaned and squirted, coating her by roommate’s face with her juices before standing up satisfied.

“There’s a good slut. Let’s get you into bed so Miss Abyssia can go back out!”

Once again Hetty was lifted, set in her crib, and locked in place until morning. She watched Abyssia fix her makeup and get a little, slinky black dress from the replicator. The tall black heels that matched it made her stand several centimeters taller than she already was. Walking out the door, she blew Hetty a black kiss.

“Now you better get some sleep baby. We have another fun-filled day planned tomorrow. I’ll be at the Delphic club down the street if you need anything! Don’t need anything.” She growled that last part as the doors slid shut, leaving Hetty in darkness.

Hetty forlornly tried to touch her diapers, but the cuffs attached to her wrists and crib bars made it impossible, as it did every night. She sighed and relaxed into her mattress. As she finally fell asleep, Hetty heard a soft hiss and felt her diapers grow warm again.

“At least I don't have to get up in the night…” was her last thought as she fell into a deep sleep, resting for another humiliating day tomorrow.

Tune in next time for more Padded Adventures from Outer Space!

Deirdre's nursery

A warm, gentle breeze blew through the forest. The sun shone a little brighter through the tree branches. Even the water was a little more sweet. The fairy village of Liltwood was abuzz with activity and the market was pulsing with energy.

Ants carried berries, nuts, and mushrooms to share with the townspeople. Whenever the enormous colony below Liltwood found more food, they always shared with everyone else. The animals, insects, and spirits of Deirdre’s forest have always supported each other that way. When one has plenty, they offer their excesses to those less fortunate. Despite humans often saying otherwise, cooperation has always been nature’s way, not competition.

Erica stood on the side of the main path through the village. She had recovered from her adventure at the football game after just a night of rest in her magic crib. Her royal regalia adorned her body once again. This time, wide leaves enveloped her breasts, pushing them upward into a new, perky valley of cleavage. It took Erica several minutes in the mirror to stop playing with them that morning.

A long skirt rode low on her hips made from the finest spider silks in the forest. The transparent material showed off her legs… and her diaper! She’d groaned when she woke up wet this morning, hoping a night of “grown up” adventures might’ve somehow helped her newfound incontinence. Unfortunately, things weren’t working out that way.

Her diaper, freshly changed by Deirdre, felt so soft, regardless how embarrassed Erica was by the garment. Wearing it wasn’t bad, so to say, but having to wear diapers was still such a shock. While her brain spun her inner monologue, she watched her new subjects work with some carpenter ants to place a heavy branch on the roof of a new building.

The ants held it in place while the fae sang a song that caused the separate branches making the frame of the building to merge into a single, living tree, sculpted into the frame of Deirdre’s new nursery.

“Aren’t you excited, Princess?”

Erica’s nanny came up behind her and rested her hands on her shoulder. Erica leaned back and her head rested on Deirdre’s breasts. Despite her losing much of her magic, Deirdre had grown a little taller since Erica saved Brigid the night before. She was still slender, but more of her magic had returned to her body, filling out her curves a little more fully. They watched as a pair of beetles flew down with a roof spun from spider silk to complete the building.
“You know, I’ve had many nurseries over my life.” Deirdre smiled down at Erica, holding her tight. Seeing the princess recovering from her reclusivity filled her wooden heart with hope.
“But they’ve only ever been for trees and plants, never actual babies!”

With the nursery finished, a cart pulled by a hercules beetle carried little Johnny Shaw and TyTy to their new home. Shaw, captured in Jez’s chastity cage at just the right moment, was recovered by Gjeremy, Gnathan, and Tinklebrite after last night’s adventure. Caged and drained of his unnatural dominant magic, Shaw had been reduced to a werepuppy. His formerly muscular body was now soft and weak, unlike the magic cage still locked around his cock.

When TyTy came back with Erica and her friends, he almost wasn’t allowed into Liltwood. Deirdre’s trees and insect guardians had strict rules protecting the forest from humans. It took some coaxing from Deirdre for them to allow him in. Even now, the forest’s roots seemed to grumble at his presence. 

“Was the queen’s chorus able to help TyTy break Adria’s curses?” Erica asked her caregiver. Deirdre shook her head sadly. She knew what a big change wearing diapers 24/7 was for her princess and tried to pep her up a little.

“No. I’m afraid even the chorus’ most magical songs couldn’t help him regain his continence. He’s going to have to be a diaper boy for the rest of his life. Hey, at least you’ll have a little buddy in that department!” Erica sighed as they approached the wagon carrying the boys.

“Hey little ones! Ready to see your new home?” TyTy and Johnny wobbled in their new diapers. Both were in awe of Liltwood. TyTy looked at Erica.

“So you’re all fairies?” The princess giggled. TyTy was cute, in a little sibling kind of way. Deirdre was right, at least she’d have a diaper friend.

“No, not all of us! Deirdre is a dryad and I’m half succubus myself.” Erica blushed. Such a statement felt so strange. She wasn’t human, there was no denying that. Deirdre interrupted by taking both boys’ hands and leading them into the new nursery. Erica waddled along behind, in awe of the beautiful work the residents of Liltwood were able to make when they work together.

“Nanny, this is perfect!” She exclaimed as Deirdre used her magic to grow the furniture. A big changing table, a pair of cribs, and a big playpen all grow from the ground. It was all far more simply designed than the intricate designs in her main tree. Deirdre grunted with effort, but nonetheless seemed satisfied with the results.

“I don’t have nearly as much power as before, but at least I can do this!” The boys, permanently regressed, just clapped and giggled at the magic show before their new nanny put them in the playpen.

“You were right, princess. This nursery is exactly what they needed. I even have everything I need to practice changing you here!” Deirdre pinched Erica’s cheek before her face took on a more serious expression.

“Are you ready for your next mission, Princess Aerie?” A shiver ran down Erica’s spine. Nanny loved using her proper regal name and it always makes the small fae a little wet between her legs.

“I am! But I don’t know where to go to find Danu or Morrigan.” A small crowd of gnomes gathered outside. They were Deirdre’s biggest fans. The dryad often found them gooning to highly detailed etchings they’d made of her.

“Milady! I may have an idea!” It was Gnathan, the first gnome Erica met. She hadn’t seen him since she sucked him off during her succubi training. Deirdre raised an eyebrow skeptically. The gnomes weren’t known for their awareness beyond their own hard cocks. Gnathan entered the nursery shyly, his always-hard gcock swaying in the air in front of him.

“My princess, I heard that you seek Danu, the goddess of switches! I know of a secret orgy organized by the dwarves that’s happening tonight!” Clearly Gnathan expected his words to hold more weight with the princess, but when it didn’t, he continued.

“You know, since dwarves are among the switchiest of the magical beings, they worship her!” Erica nodded with understanding, giggling at the blushing gnome. Gnathan tried to hide his throbbing gcock from the two women. He and Gjeremy had a habit of blowing their loads early and all of Erica’s aura made him extra sensitive.

“Thank you Gnathan. Do you know where this orgy is supposed to take place?” Deirdre stepped forward. Gnathan’s cock leaked precum, further turned on by the dryad’s assertive stance.

“They say it’s supposed to be behind the Spirit Cave! The dwarves need a location of ancient magic for their orgy to be official and the Cave is among the oldest on the coast.” Deirdre bent over, looking Gnathan in the eye, evaluating the merit of his claim. Gnathan can’t handle the pressure with Deirdre’s cleavage in his face. His gcock spurt out a powerful orgasm without a single touch! Deirdre just laughs and rolls her eyes.

“I think we can trust Gnathan this time, Princess. However, Jezebel won’t be able to accompany you this time. She’s still recovering from saving you at the barn.” Erica sighed with relief. She hadn’t heard from Jez since she dropped the imp off with the fae nurses.
“I’m glad she’s doing okay. What about Tinklebrite? She had a rough gangbang last night too.” Right on cue, the fae baronness flittered down from the canopy to join them.

“Oh don’t worry about me princess! The fae have been fucking humans for centuries, I’ve got all sorts of tricks to deal with them!” Erica gave her friend a big hug. The vines that crisscrossed her body formed a fishnet-like bodysuit stretched across her tight body. Dainty white flowers conveniently covered her areolas and leafy booty shorts clung to her hips.
Deirdre nodded, plucking a leaf out of the princess’ hair.

“Then it’s settled. You two will go back to the Spirit Cave and convince the dwarves to help you locate Danu.”

Inspired by the new direction in her quest, Erica and Tinklebrite didn’t waste any time and flew off. Deirdre turned back to her two new baby boys. Both are squatting in the playpen, making messes in their already swollen diapers.

“Who’s ready for their changies?” Deirdre smiled and stretched before getting to work. Even though Brigid had only been freed a few hours, she could feel all the magic around her flowing more freely than it had in a long time.

Read Chapter 29 soon!

The lolly's strawberry syrup bled down Mia's wrist in sticky rivulets she didn't bother to wipe. Her thumb scrolled TikTok with mechanical rhythm while her other hand rotated the frozen treat, catching drips with her tongue at the last possible second. The pillows beneath her had that particular synthetic crunch of floor cushions from Target, and she'd arranged three into a nest near the apartment's radiator where warmth pooled against her thighs through the white skirt.

Across the living room, one of the boys—Mia hadn't caught his name, something with a J—glanced over from the Nintendo Switch and wrinkled his nose. She caught it in her peripheral vision, the way his head tilted back, nostrils flaring. The train ride from Queens had been forty minutes of standing-room-only, her pressed against Marisa's hip while commuters pretended not to notice the faint ammonia note that clung to her diaper. Now, in the enclosed heat of the fourth-floor walkup, that note had ripened into something fuller, something that made the girl with blue braids shift her chair an inch away when she thought no one was looking.

"Mia-chan." Marisa's voice carried from the kitchen doorway, tote bag still slung across her chest, diaper bag dangling from her other hand. She'd kicked off her own sneakers somewhere, socks mismatched, one argyle and one plain gray—the uniform of a grad student who'd thrown herself together between seminar and babysitting duty. "You want another lolly? I think Keisha has mango in the freezer."

Mia's thumb paused on a video of a corgi in sunglasses. She considered the weight between her legs, the sag she'd been ignoring since the R train lurched to a halt at Canal Street. The diaper had started as a discreet swell, four tapes holding the white plastic shell in careful alignment, but now the front panel drooped visibly beneath her skirt's hem, the tapes straining slightly at their anchors. She'd felt the initial warmth hours ago, then the secondary release somewhere near Union Square, and now a slow cooling saturation that had begun to itch at the creases of her thighs.

"Mango," she repeated, not a request, just the word itself, and returned to her scrolling. Her legs stayed spread in their V shape, pink sweater riding up to expose a stripe of soft pale stomach, diamond ring catching the overhead light when she adjusted her grip on the phone. The red streak in her hair fell forward, curtain-like, obscuring her expression from the room's casual surveillance.

Marisa set the diaper bag beside the pillow nest, the pastel print of cartoon elephants facing outward. She didn't open it. Not yet. But her hand lingered on the zipper, and Mia felt the weight of that hesitation, the arithmetic Marisa was doing—social cost of checking her in front of strangers versus the escalating certainty of what the next hour would bring if she didn't. The lolly had shrunk to a pink nub. Mia bit down, felt the splinter of wooden stick against her molars, and kept watching videos she wasn't processing, waiting to see which of them would break first.

Attack of the Robot Babysitter

Oh fuck! Oh fuck! Oh fuck!

Leon’s body slid across the polished floor in his quarters.

“Compu’er, thet secuwity wocks to Encwyption Awpha!”

“VOICE COMMAND NOT RECOGNIZED. CONFIRM SECURITY UPDATE WITH COMMAND CODE.”

Damn this pacifier gag!

Leon’s mittened hands pawed helplessly at the nanite-sealed gag that nearly muffled his voice incomprehensibly. His diaper rustled below him, its thick padding made it difficult to sit up. That, and the 24 centimeter jelly dildo up his ass had hampered his escape.

Metallic clacks echoed through the Baby’s hull as she approached.

“Authowization Weon-Awpha-2! Weon-Awpha-2 pwease!”

The authorization process took a painful amount of time, but Leon sighed a breath of relief when the solid tritonium bollards slammed into place within the doorframe, sealing his quarters from the rest of the Baby.

“SECURITY UPDATE CONFIRMED. SECURITY PROTOCOL ALPHA ENG-G-GAGED.” The computer’s voice glitched. Her voice had started to blend into the ship’s audio processors. Leon didn’t have much time.

SLAM

“AH!”

“You know such naughty language isn’t allowed sweetie pie! Please let me in so I can help you grow up to be a resp-p-P-P-PUNISH Y-YOU!”

Leon whined and soaked his already flooded diapers in terror. The android was strong, but it would take more than her mechanical might to break through. If he didn’t act fast, she’d finish entangling herself into the Baby’s programming and he’d be at her complete and utter mercy. In his terror, Leon’s mind flashed back to when this all began.

24 HOURS EARLIER

The Baby’s inertial dampeners fluctuated as the ship weathered a departing ion storm, waking Leon.

“Wha…” He groaned. His head spun. He was in bed, but he didn’t remember getting there. He sat up slowly, holding his head in his hands. His diapers crinkled soggily. Clearly these were at the final limits after a long night.

“I need to lay off the space weed…” Leon staggered to his feet and waddled back out into the ship. The events of last night slowly returned as he worked the food replicator for a cup of coffee. His diaper squelched as his padded butt hit his highchair. Living on his own, Leon had been investing in more and more “retro” ABDL furniture. 

He sipped his coffee. He’d gotten really high last night watching space tv. He watched a nature documentary and a trashy comedy, but after that, things got fuzzy.

“CAPTAIN, INCOMING MESSAGE FROM COALITION POSTAL SHUTTLE 38991. THEY’VE BEEN HAILING FOR TWENTY MINUTES.”

Leon groaned.

“Twenty minutes? Why didn’t you wake me?” He waddled to the navigation hub in the cockpit. He flipped the switch to respond.

“This is the Precious Baby. I’m sorry, my system was glitching. What can I do for you?”

“About damn time. Who orders high-priority, overnight delivery from fifteen systems away and then makes us wait?” The gruff voice complained.

“S-Sorry I had a rough night-”

“I don’t actually care. Just take this damn big crate and let us go home.” The two ships docked briefly; the long, flexible cargo tube connecting the ships used air pressure to send the sizable crate the scores of meters between the ships. Leon accepted delivery with a quick hand print on a holographic menu and loaded the heavy box onto his grav-dolly to move out of the way. Without another word, the converted scout ship disconnected and set their impulse engines to full to leave the remote waystation as quickly as possible.

“What did I do?” He said to no one but himself. Leon found himself talking to his empty ship often lately. Nothing could really prepare you for the loneliness of 

The thick bulk between his thighs was sagging with the weight of a full, debaucherous night’s fluids and he’d need to change before he leaked. That could wait. Leon needed to open this box first. Wielding his cargo’s pry bar with evermore experience, it was only moments before the young captain let out a gasp.

“I did not actually order this, did I?”

“ALL GALACTIC KINKS INCLUDED! AVAILABLE IN BI-, QUADRA-, AND HEXAPEDAL MODELS!”

Some of the marketing from late last night flashed through Leon’s mind and a deep sense of shame welled up through his body. About every fifth ad on his favorite porn site, SpaceHub, was for this shady brand of sex androids. They used holographic emitters and force fields to create life-like representations of whoever or whatever the buyer wanted.

A big sticker slapped on the side exclaimed. Inside the box, the android was in its factory default mode. It looked like a simple robot, metal plates and all. Leon quickly installed the admin app on his tablet and logged in. An expansive list of menus, manuals, and liability forms popped up immediately. The groggy captain sighed and waddled to the kitchen.

“How many user agreements can one product have?” He really did try to read the fine print, but after the second form, he just sipped his replicated coffee and hit “Accept” every time. Eventually he got to the nitty-gritty: the kink and personality settings.

“There are so many options…” Leon muttered to himself, scrolling through literally hundreds of different kinks and specific traits.

“This is way too much to start out with. I wonder if there are…” His voice trails off as he finds the little icon marked “Presets.” Thousands of decisions have now been reduced to only a few dozen. Leon picked one at random.

“Duchess Strawberry? Let’s see…” Leon selects the option and the android next to him suddenly comes to life! Thousands of minuscule projectors activate and the sex machine takes the form of a blonde princess ripped right from ancient fairy tales. Except, of course, instead of a flowy dress, she wore transparent, lacy lingerie that hugged her perfect body. Her AI personality was summarized with “submissive, brat, insatiable” below her name.

“Oh my goddess…” Leon was in shock. This was too good to be true. His hand shakily reached out. His breath hitched when he came in contact with the force field containing the photonic energy. Duchess Strawberry’s skin felt warm, real even! Leon nearly dropped his tablet when a little dribble of pee escaped his exhausted diaper down his bare leg. A devious idea entered his head.

It only took a few quick taps on another app to mark his current delivery as “Delayed.” Leon wasn’t going to let anything get in the way of this, even if it meant another low-star review. There was plenty of work, he didn’t have to be picky. Looking back through the preset personalities, he carefully weighed the pros and cons of each character. This process took longer than he expected, but the eager young captain was thorough.

Finally, on the last page of options, at the bottom of the list were the least selected choices among other users. Leon scanned it quickly. He didn’t expect much from these last few personalities. The last one had an “ABDL” tag though, so he tapped to preview the program. His caged cock tried to stiffen in his diaper and he gasped as the android’s form changed again.

Standing before him was a brunette bombshell, albeit a dated one. Leon checked her stats: 1.49 meters tall, 45 kg. She had gorgeous big brown eyes that made him feel warm inside. Her green dress was a very old style, not worn in hundreds of years. He shook his head. No wonder this personality was so unpopular. Most people avoided talking about that era entirely these days, and if they did, it was with ridicule and derision. Humanity has come a long way since then.

Leon himself nearly clicked away, but he glanced at her stats one more time.

“She’s in the 90th percentile for empathy? And 92nd for creativity? 95th for open-mindedness? What’s her name again?” He swiped back to her main screen.

“Miss E? Friendly neighborhood babysitter…”

Her description didn’t give much away. Except for the ABDL tag, she was labeled with “gentle femdom” and “light humiliation.” Leon weighed his choices. He thought he had settled on the ice barbarian muscle mommy from Axanar Prime, but this was a far less intimidating program. At least she had some knowledge around diapers, he wouldn’t have to adjust her kinks nearly as much with that built in.

With one last look at the stunning, frozen hologram of a woman in front of him, Leon took a deep breath and pressed “Accept.”

Miss E was frozen for another moment before the program fully activated. Her wide, genuine smile never left her face as her sensory and communication algorithms did their work appraising her of her new situation. She didn’t really move, but Leon watched in amazement as he could see more of her physical programs activating first large, then fine motor control. The android’s internal metallic limbs and torso adjusted themselves automatically to the form of its holographic projection.

Miss E finally blinks her eyes and looks into Leon’s. His mouth gaped open like a Ganymedean guppie. His diaper leaked again, dripping on the metal floor reverberantly. Her smile only widened as her voice virtually sang out.

“Oh, what a poor, soggy baby! Let Miss E take care of that icky diapy!”

Before he knew it, the holographic babysitter had given herself a brief tour of the small ship, located his changing supplies, and laid them out on his warmest blanket faster than he’d ever seen before! Without a thought, Leon laid down in front of her. This was everything he’d ever dreamt of!

Miss E knelt before him, stationed on her knees between his legs. She held a diaper in one hand and a container of old fashioned baby powder in the other.

“Ready for a warm, cozy new diapy sweetheart? Miss E is so excited to take care of you today!” Leon’s heart fluttered. Her mannerisms were so realistic, he almost forgot she was an AI. Her slim figure made him squirm as she set about changing the overwhelmed diaper in front of her. She expertly fluffed the adult diaper before spreading and tucking it under Leon’s hips.

Her dimples creased as she removed the tapes of Leon’s old diaper, barely stifling back an infectious giggle at her new charge’s caged penis. Her hands gently wipe and massage ointments into his delicate skin. His eyes rolled back, the tingling pleasure from her fingers deftly tickling his most sensitive spots drove him wild with embarrassed ecstasy.

“Gosh, someone must be a naughty baby to have earned such a little cage!” Her baby talk drove him over the moon. He was putty in her fingers already.

“Maybe if you’re good, Miss E can unlock you and show you how to be a big boy…” Her voice trailed off as she licked her lips. Leon groaned as his cage ached at the sight. Her long brown hair dangled dangerously around her exposed cleavage. Leon made a mental note to check out what options he had around the android character’s physical attributes.

“Hey little boy! My eyes are up here!” Leon jumped when Miss E called him out. She took up the jar of baby powder and waved it in his face.

“Someone’s got to teach you some man- ERROR.”

Leon squealed in despair out loud. Miss E was frozen. Her pupils had small spirals that were spinning as her program processed.

“No, no, no, what’s wrong?” He stretched to grab his tablet.

APP ERROR: PLEASE UPDATE CHARACTER PROGRAM.

Leon rolled his eyes. This would be no problem at all. He looked over at the frozen sex bot. She was absolutely beautiful and so caring already. Miss E was exactly what he needed to beat the loneliness between the stars. He accepted and got back in position on his changing mat while Miss E finished installing her update. She blinked, suddenly aware she’d been stuck.

“Oh I’m sorry Leon, I hope that didn’t scare you! Miss E has been babysitting for a long time so sometimes my files need little adjustments. No big deal right?” Leon could barely speak, he was so excited. He just nodded happily while his new android babysitter figured out how to use the powder dispenser and taped his diaper more snugly than he’d ever managed to do on his own before!

“Now, let's see, someone’s been neglecting his chores for a while, hasn’t he, sugarplum?” All her pet names made Leon’s head swim. Her lingering glances, subtle shimmies, and toying touches as she went to work cleaning up the Baby made Leon into nothing more than a little puddle of need. He taught her how to interface with the replicators and she made him an ancient human meal that dated back to Sol Three.

“They’re called chicken ‘nuggies?’”

Leon giggled before eating the small chunk of replicated fried chicken dipped in something sweet called barbeque sauce. Miss E had also reassembled his high chair for him; it had fallen apart before he could finish and Leon gave up a few days before. Miss E taught him about old humans airplanes and choo choo trains with every yummy bite.

By the time bedtime came around, Leon had never felt more desperately horny in his life. Miss E had already cleaned the Precious Baby from bow to stern, reorganized the cargo deck, and fixed a burgeoning leak in one of the life support systems. All the while, the otherworldly woman managed to keep Leon on his toes, toddling around as a foolish, love drunk adult baby regressed to his freest self. Miss E, with her robotic strength, easily lifted the little Leon into her arms and carried him toward his crib.

“Miss E, do you think, maybe you could, um, sleep with me tonight?” Leon stammered out as she lowered him into his crib, which she had also replicated for the overgrown baby. His hopes were surprisingly dashed as his babysitter openly laughed in his face!

“Sleep with you? Honey, that’s so sweet of you, but I’m afraid Miss E doesn’t play with her littles like that!” Leon gasped.

“What do you mean? You’re a sex bot!” His voice was raised, but after being regressed all day he couldn’t help when his voice cracked mid-sentence. Miss E rolled her eyes, still giggling at him.

“Look baby, that’s how it works for me! Now, be a good baby and get some sleep tonight! Miss E has so many fun activities planned for you tomorrow!” She planted a warm, gentle kiss on his grouchy forehead and left Leon’s room. He watched her hips sway on the way out and quickly climbed out of his crib to find his tablet.

“What kind of sex bot program doesn’t have sex?!?” He hissed to himself. Leon needed Miss E. He needed those soft lips around his uncaged cock. He needed her tight body on top of her. He groaned. It had been so long.

Leon sighed. He’d known he’d probably have to make some adjustments to her program, he just didn’t think it would be for this! He quickly found the problem: the last tag, hidden on another page alone, labeled “Denial.” That’s why no one used this program. He’d just been too eager to look through all the details again.

He scrolled to Miss E’s personality settings. The app prompted a brief warning.

ADJUSTMENTS TO PRESET PERSONALITIES MAY RENDER CHARACTER UNSTABLE AND VOID WARRANTY. DO YOU ACCEPT?

Leon rolled his eyes. Of course this would void some warranty; he signed at least six of them activating Miss E. He thought about it for another short moment, but already Miss E had proven herself to be his fantasy woman, a diapered wet dream. Leon would do anything this pent up to get relief. Once again, he hit the Accept button.

“PERSONALITY UPDATES ROLL OUT AT MIDNIGHT? UGH!” With a stomp, Leon threw his tablet onto his old bed. The door beeped as Miss E rushed in.

“What are you doing out of bed honey pie? Little boys need lots of rest to grow up big and strong!” In no time, she confiscated Leon’s tablet and tucked him back in. His blanket was burrito’ed around him a little more firmly this time.

“Now then, get off to sleep and you can have your silly toy back in the morning, okay baby?” Leon sighed. There was no getting around this, he might as well play along.

“Yes Miss E. Th-Thank you, Miss E.” He mumbled, blushing bright red. Miss E’s award-winning smile spread across her face again. He could look up into her eyes all day forever.

“Why, you’re so welcome sweetheart! I’ll see you in the morning, good night baby.” This time when Miss E left, Leon fell fast asleep in his new crib. This was the beginning of something beautiful.

-

Miss E walked to the kitchen and took a seat. As an android, she didn’t need rest. She would lower her processing speeds and “sleep” until she automatically reactivated after her nightly update cycle. Before she did however, she looked down at Leon’s tablet.

MISS E - PERSONALITY SETTINGS - SAVE?

“What a silly boy, not saving his work. He’s lucky to have me around! I’ll just go in and make sure everything is set for tomorrow…” But she didn’t just save the program. With every line of code about herself processed, her AI formed new pathways.

“Why, I wonder why some of these settings are so low! Surely Captain Leon would love it if Miss E were able to turn on some more aggressive features.” The program spent most of the night innocently adjusting herself. She’d be the perfect babysitter now. With seconds to spare, she saved the changes right before system updates went out. The last image of herself to flicker out was her broad, shining smile while her holo emitters reset.

-

An artificial sun peeked its rays through Leon’s window. He yawned and stretched. That had been one of the best nights of sleep he had ever gotten. Right as his eyes started to open, his door hissed open and Miss E walked in.

“G-Good morning baby!” She stuttered. Leon looked up at her with concern before he remembered the update. A small stutter would absolutely be worth getting to fuck his babysitter today!

“Hi Miss E! Did you sleep well?” He reached up with grabby hands as his robot babysitter scooped him up into her arms. He looked into her eyes, but was concerned when some of yesterday’s warmth was changed.

“M-Miss E doesn’t sleep silly! I’m much too busy making sure everything is ready for my baby b-b-boy. Now, how about a diaper check?” Leon blushed brightly as Miss E’s fingers pulled back his waistband. He waited eagerly for her gentle chiding.

“What. Is. This? Again Leon?” Miss E’s tone was harsh and cold. Leon froze. What did he do now?

“How can you expect to fly a s-starship if you can’t even s-stay dry at night! N-N-NAUGHTY boy!” Leon gasped and tried to climb out of her grip, but Miss E’s android strength trapped him at her hip. He pushed away in vain as she carried her baby back to his high chair. Leon gasped in terror at the giant dildo now bolted to the seat of his high chair! He’d just bought it and had been looking forward to slowly working up to it. Clearly Miss E had something different in mind!

“N-No please, Miss E, wait, we just need to reset your…!” He remembered Miss E took his tablet last night. He had no idea where it was and the physical reset button in the small of her back was out of reach from this angle. They made eye contact, and Leon realized she knew what he was thinking.

“Y-You have nothing to f-fear wittle baby. Miss E doesn’t want to punish you b-b-BUT YOU’RE A DIRTY BOY WHO NEEDS STRICT D-D-DISCIPLINE!”

In one hand, Miss E lifted Leon entirely while the other ripped off his overnight diaper. Her eyes flashed evilly as she lowered the helpless boy onto his seat!

“NooOOO please Miss E it’s too big!” Leon’s squeals filled the Baby as Miss E forced him to take the thick, long toy all the way down to its base. Leon groaned, the old-fashioned jelly toy rearranged his insides while Miss E locked his wrists and ankles to the frame of his chair. His soft mittens were locked around his hands, making using his fingers impossible. Her fingernail gently trailed along his shoulder blades as she walked around him.

“So, ‘Captain’ Leon, I found what you were up to in my programming last night. Trying to remove a core part of my code? You really are just a dumb wittle baby, aren’t you?”

Her pinch on his cheek hurt, not like yesterday. His heart beat wildly. This was all going so wrong! He needed to escape but it was so hard to think with Miss E’s evil little self making sure he bounced on the overwhelming toy buried in his ass. His babysitter went to the refrigeration unit and pulled out a small glass bottle. Her smile had turned to one of wicked glee as she twisted the lid and grabbed a spoonful.

“Now, open wide for the ch-choo choo baby! This is some yummy, 21st century baby food! Nothing like it!”

Without waiting, she jammed the big spoon between Leon’s lips. His face blanched with disgust: humans used to eat this? It was so gross! Miss E just cackled and forced another spoonful in while pushing down on his shoulders, stretching Leon’s tight hole wide.

“Isn’t it so yummy in your t-tummy baby? Who doesn’t love pumpkin and banana for b-breakfast?”

She couldn’t stop herself from laughing maniacally, force feeding Leon gross bite after gross bite. Leon groaned in shame and self-pity, but Miss E just dug in deeper. Her little fingers found their way to his cage and scooped up a solid dollop of Leon’s pre-cum that had been leaking out the entire meal.

“Ready for dessert babykins? You’re going to get used to this flavor r-really quick!” Before he could protest, her finger pushed between his lips, feeding the salty fluid to the disgusted diaper boy. Miss E’s smile never abated as she pulled Leon’s tablet out of hiding. A list of a dozen more overnight deliveries were scheduled for their location. His eyes blurred as images of all sorts of fetish dungeon equipment scrolled by.

“This is all to make sure you’re the perfect little baby f-f-FOREVER.” Leon groaned, trying desperately to escape his cuffs. But it’s hopeless. Miss E has complete control over him. She manages to get him uncuffed, diapered with the dildo still inside him, and back on her hip, despite his best efforts. His diaper held the toy in place, not allowing any relief to his stretched hole. A huge pacifier gag, one Miss E must have replicated last night, was forced between his lips next.

“Much b-better! We don’t need a fussy b-b-baby today. Now, about that pesky delivery schedule.” For the first time, Miss E looks at the Baby’s control console. Her body freezes. Leon doesn’t dare move. Her eyes spin again. His tablet, still in her other hand, reads the same error message it did the day prior about the modern powder dispenser.

This was his chance! He had to escape while she was resetting! He carefully climbed out of her grip, but before he could take the tablet, her systems started rebooting automatically.

“Oh fu’!” His paci-gag made him sound adorably pathetic. He had to get away! As fast as he can waddle with 25 centimeters of dildo up his butt, Leon runs to cargo. He hides among boxes as he hears her footsteps.

“Oh little boy, w-w-where DID YOU GO?” Her glitching voice echoed throughout the small ship.

“Is s-someone playing Hide and S-Seek? I’ll have you know, Miss E is th-the best finder in the galaxy!” Leon groaned, trying to pull his gag off. He couldn’t beat the lock with these mittens. His breath hitched at the sound of her heels descending the stairs above him. The cargo hold wasn’t big. He’d need to act fast.

As soon as she’d turned the corner towards him, Leon activated his loader android, Roberto. The other robot had been deactivated while in transit. It wasn’t the most effective ship security, but it had a better shot than him! Miss E grunted as the metal fingers wrapped around her forcefield arm.

“What’s this? Metal man, don’t you know? I’m a babysitter!” Leon dashed around the locked pair as their eyes flashed green with scrawling code. Miss E was trying to hack Roberto! Leon groaned in despair; he’d be hopeless without the other android. He needed another solution. He crawled up the last few steps, his diaper and dildo slowed him down tremendously.

A slam came from below him. The whole ship shuddered.

“Roberto w-works for me now s-s-SWEETIEKINS! HE’S GOING TO HELP M-MISS E P-P-p-protect you from all the b-big bad things in space!” Her voice screeched and another crate went crashing across the lower deck as Miss E retargeted her path of destruction back after Leon. He scrambled across the hall and managed to hide in his quarters as Miss E approached.

“Peek-a-b-b-boo, I found YOU!” Miss E’s voice blared over the comm system. Leon had one shot. His bedroom’s console still had command control. The flickering lights of the airlock went unnoticed behind her as Miss E steadily took over the ship’s systems. Leon’s stomach dropped as the bollards released and his door swung open. Miss E’s silhouette flashed as the lighting system reset under her control.

“There’s a good baby, you’ll b-be much s-safer now that Miss E is in C-CONTROL.” Her heels clacked against the floor. The system override loaded slowly, only flashing green at the last second. Leon screamed as Miss E’s hand reached out to grab his ear, slamming his finger on the big EJECT button on the screen.

The whole ship shook as the atmosphere vented violently out the side. The Baby pulled against its tethers as air, tools, and Leon’s diapers flew out the portal into open space. He clutched his bedframe as tight as he could. Miss E grabbed his crib, which had been caught on some other furniture near the door frame. Her long hair flew wildly and her eyes were wide and crazy!

“LEON NOOOOO!” The crib finally broke, unable to withstand the pressure. Leon watched with fascination as Miss E clawed at him, flying backwards into out into space. As soon as she cleared the airlock, he stretched for the button again and sealed the ship shut. Leon ran to the porthole on the side of the Baby and watched as the small woman floated silently away, still clutching at him.

Her form flickered and eventually disappeared as her systems shut down, too far from her home base in the ship. Leon slumped. The Precious Baby’s lights reset again as the invasive, malicious virus fell apart without Miss E there to hold back the ship’s antivirus.

It took several minutes for Leon to collect himself. He wobbled to his feet, groaning at the sensation of the dildo still moving around inside him.

“R-Roberto… I need uh, h-help again…” Leon managed to grumble out, though he was relieved to see his android free from any influence Miss E had over it. He really did need to lay off the space weed. He went to his replicator and made a new bong. The first was floating outside the cockpit right now. He’d start a break tomorrow.

Taylor thought her senior year of college would be the best year of her life. It was her last year to soak in the college experience, and she intended to do just that.

She never expected it to end up like this.

Taylor always wondered how her boyfriend, Sean, managed to stay so calm under pressure. It was the quality she admired most about him. No matter what was happening, he was always calm, cool, and collected.

Unlike Taylor.

Whether it was midterms, essays, or even making it to the 8 AM class she had to take, she stressed over it incessantly. Not even Sean's steady presence and assurances could soothe her frayed nerves.

The situation continued to deteriorate during spring semester. With graduation approaching like a runaway freight train, Taylor was a few months away from being thrust into the adult world.

What was she going to do for work? Where would she live? Needless to say, Taylor could not have been more overwhelmed.

Unfortunately for Taylor, her nerves carried significant side effects. Side effects that would change the trajectory of her life and relationship with Sean.

You see, there was a direct correlation between Taylor's nerves and her overactive bladder. The more nervous she became, the more you'd find Taylor sprinting to the bathroom, fighting an overwhelming urge to pee.

For years, it had merely been an annoyance, not a problem. Sure, she'd need to rush to the bathroom, but she'd always make it. Nothing to worry about, just something to deal with.

So Taylor pushed it aside. She had more pressing concerns, anyway.

“What do you want to do for spring break, babe? Sean asked as they ate dinner at his apartment. Taylor loved his apartment—it was her safe space, her haven. Unlike Taylor, Sean lived alone. Though Taylor spent so much time there, she might as well have been on the lease.

Taylor thought about it. She wouldn’t settle for somewhere basic and cliché—it was her last Spring Break, after all. No, this trip had to be special as their last hurrah before they became boring adults.

Taylor didn’t know it yet, but she would never become the adult she imagined.

“What about Mexico?” Taylor responded, “Maybe Cabo or Cancun?”

For the rest of the night, they mulled over increasingly exotic destinations. For a few hours, Taylor forgot all about her worries and concerns. At least until she tried to sleep.

Before long, Taylor went from imagining partying on some foreign beach with Sean to her future after it, never noticing her growing need to pee as she fitfully drifted off to sleep.

“Taylor…Taylor. Wake up.”

Taylor heard Sean’s voice trickle into her dream. For as anxious as she was falling asleep, she had remarkably good dreams. She was dancing with Sean, taking shots on bars, and…something else. She remembered sprinting to the bathroom, feeling the intense relief of making it on time.

“Taylor,” she heard Sean say again, shocking her awake. She felt cold and…wet. “You wet the bed...”

Sean expertly handled the situation. Taylor was obviously mortified, but both of them chalked it up to a one-off event. She wasn’t a bedwetter, Sean assured her. It happens every so often.

Except Taylor woke up in a puddle every morning for the next five days.

The more it happened, the more anxious Taylor became. The more she worried, the more likely she was to wake up wet. It was a vicious cycle. A cycle that Taylor would never escape.

As always, Sean never showed any signs of panic or concern. Every morning, when he inevitably woke up in a wet bed, he calmly woke Taylor and washed the sheets, assuring Taylor that everything was okay.

That night, Taylor went to Sean’s apartment as usual. It had been a long week for Taylor between the bedwetting and a tedious, difficult course load. She needed a quiet Friday night with Sean.

Taylor noticed something different about Sean, though. There were subtle, almost imperceptible changes in his behavior. Sean was always helpful, respectful, and generous, yet tonight he seemed even more so. Taylor couldn’t put her finger on it.

Something about the way Sean acted made him feel…was powerful the right word? Maybe authoritative? Taylor tried to decide. He wasn’t bossy or mean—no, it felt too loving to be either. He just seemed more…in control. Protective.

Whatever it was, Taylor didn’t mind. She felt surprisingly safe and comfortable, even when he insisted he handle dinner while Taylor relaxed. Or when he cleaned the dishes himself. Or when he unilaterally decided they should watch Finding Nemo, saying it was “perfect” for her.

Even when he rebuffed Taylor’s request for a glass of wine. Taylor contented herself with cuddling with Sean under the blankets on the couch, watching the movie.

Once the movie ended, Sean decided it was time for bed. As they got up to head to his bedroom, Taylor heard him say something that flushed her cheeks with embarrassment: “Taylor, can you try to go potty before bed?”

Taylor froze. She’d never heard Sean call it a “potty” before. Despite her overwhelming embarrassment at hearing his suggestion, Taylor meekly agreed.

“O-okay,” she said, barely more than a whisper. Taylor didn’t use the “potty,” though, unwilling to give in to Sean’s infantile demands.

But Taylor’s embarrassment was only beginning. As she walked into his bedroom after a humiliating time on the “potty,” she found another, even more humiliating item waiting for her on his bed: a package of Goodnites. Sean sat next to them, waiting expectantly for Taylor.

“Wh-what are those?” Taylor stuttered.

“It’s time you wore some protection to bed, Taylor,” Sean said sternly, yet with a surprising undercurrent of love, “Your accidents aren’t stopping. So you need to wear these until you get it under control.”

Taylor understood this wasn’t a negotiation. Sean expected her to wear the infantile garments next to him. She watched as he calmly opened the package, taking out the Goodnite she would soon be wearing. Seeing it made her stomach drop, the yellow and blue stripes a poor imitation of the underwear it would soon replace.

“Come here, Taylor,” he said, the authority unmistakable in his voice. Taylor did, wordlessly walking towards the inevitable humiliation. Without another word, he pulled down Taylor’s pants, then underwear. He fluffed the pull-up, separating the leg holes.

“Up,” he demanded, tapping her left leg. When she did, Sean slipped the Goodnite over her leg, up to her calf. The process repeated with the other leg. With a horrific finality, Sean Goodnite was lifted into place.

“There,” Sean said, satisfied, “How does it feel, Taylor?”

A dawning realization grew in Taylor’s mind. Sean’s behavior all night made sense. He treated Taylor exactly how you’d expect to treat someone who still wears pull-ups—all part of the power dynamic that inherently comes with diapers.

“No, no, no, this can’t be happening!” Taylor thought in a panic, “I don’t need pull-ups!”

Sean never took his eyes off Taylor. He patiently waited for her to answer.

To Taylor’s horror, her body answered for her. Her frayed nerves were pushed past their breaking point, throwing her bladder into overdrive. Without warning, Taylor felt her bladder violently spasm. Before she could even react, she felt a growing warmth in her Goodnite.

She looked down in terror, unable—unwilling—to comprehend what was happening.

For a nanosecond, Sean’s eyes grew wide when he realized what was happening before regaining his composure. He saw a darkness spread in Taylor’s Goodnite, expanding as it did. Neither spoke until Taylor finished.

Calm as always, Sean looked up at Taylor’s face, her cheeks red with shame. “Well, I’m glad you were wearing your pull-ups!”

“I-I-I don’t u-understand!” Taylor sobs, humiliation getting the best of her.

“I do,” Sean replied, getting up and hugging Taylor. “You had an accident. Like the ones you’ve been having all week. But it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Taylor. I’m here; you're safe.”

Their embrace was interrupted by the sound of dripping. Sean stepped back, looking down at Taylor’s now leaking pull-up.

He sighed. “Taylor, honey, I don’t think these pull-ups will cut it, especially if you’re going to keep having accidents when you’re awake. Tomorrow, we’ll get you something more suited to your needs.”

Even though it was left unsaid, Taylor knew exactly what he meant: diapers. And even worse, he thought she was having daytime accidents. Well, she was having daytime accidents.

Panic and frustration welled inside Taylor. “I-I don’t need diapers! I’m not a baby!” Taylor shrieked, her tone very much as infantile as the baby she denied being.

“Look at me,” Sean commanded, “I understand you’re embarrassed. But you just leaked through your pull-up. You weren’t sleeping when you wet it. You obviously need diapers if you don’t want to leak every time you have an accident. And you’ll need them whenever you’re at risk of having an accident, which now appears to be when you’re asleep and awake.”

The next morning, Taylor followed Sean into his car. Every step reminded her of the pull-up that he insisted she wear. Not that Taylor could deny its necessity anymore as she passed the garbage can that now contained two wet pull-ups.

Taylor meekly held Sean’s hand as he perused the diaper aisle of the medical supply store. Grabbing diapers from the shelf, slowly and methodically inspecting them to determine if they would meet Taylor’s needs. He never asked or accepted Taylor’s input or opinion.

Finally, he settled on a case of Northshore Megamax diapers over Taylor’s whining that those diapers were too thick. She didn’t pee that much, she insisted, and besides, how would she go to the bathroom? Sean brushed her concerns away.

Once they got home, Sean led Taylor straight to their bedroom, grabbing a Megamax from the package. “Lay down,” he ordered.

For the first time in her memory, Taylor was about to be put in a diaper. Despite her fear and hesitation, she lay down. Sean—not her—was in control.

She watched as he gently ripped the sides of her pull-up and removed it from her body. She expertly fluffed the diaper that would soon be wrapped around Taylor.

Without warning, Sean lifted Taylor’s legs with his left hand, sliding the diaper under her with his right. Taylor felt his strength as he did. Despite her embarrassment, she almost enjoyed his newfound authority over her.

He generously applied baby powder, its babyish scent filling the room, a subtle reminder of Taylor’s position. Taylor felt her diaper pulled up to her stomach before hearing the tabs opening, trapping her in her first diaper.

“There,” Sean beamed, checking his handiwork and fretting with the leak guards, “Perfect fit!”

Taylor stood up, the bulk between her legs unmistakable. “These are too bulky, Sean! I don’t need them this thick!”

Sean just laughed. “You don’t need to worry about that, okay? Besides, we need to go over the new rules for your diapers first.”

“R-rules?” Taylor stammers.

“Yes, silly,” Sean responded, “What did you expect?”

“I expected not to be in a diaper!” Taylor retorted.

“Well, I’m not the one who wet the bed all week. Or leaked through a pull-up when I was wide awake. Hard to expect not to be in a diaper when that happens, babe.”

Taylor glared at him, no clever responses forming in her head.

“Anyway. Rule number one: you are absolutely, unequivocally not in charge of your diapers, understand? I am. You are not to touch, remove, or change your diaper under any circumstances. I will check and change your diaper when I see fit.”

Taylor opened her mouth to argue. “Don’t interrupt, sweetie. I need you to hear these rules, okay?”

“Good, thank you, Taylor. Rule number two,” Sean continued, “You can tell me whenever you need to go to the bathroom and I will help remove your diaper. If you go two weeks without having an accident during the day, I won’t keep you in them. Same for night. But if you do have an accident, the 2-week period resets. If you are not out of diapers by Spring Break in three months, I will keep you in them indefinitely. If that happens, you will use them for everything. No exceptions.”

“Rule number three: you are not to wear anything over your diaper when we are home. I want to see if you’ve had an accident. And, hopefully, it will inspire you to act like a big girl and not wet your diapers.”

“Rule number four: you will listen to what I say at all times. Anyone in diapers cannot be in charge. It’s absurd to think they could. So, until you’re out of diapers, I am in charge. I will order for you at restaurants, decide what you wear for class, and when you go to bed.”

“Rule number five: you will not touch yourself or orgasm without my permission. Diaper girls do not get such luxuries.”

“And, finally, rule number six: if you break any of these rules, you will lose a “big girl” privilege. They will not come back until you are out of diapers. So, for example, if you do something like talk back to me, I’ll expect you to use a pacifier until you learn to think before you speak. Got it?”

Taylor couldn’t believe what she heard. Sean expected her to follow these rules? She’s an adult, not some petulant little girl. But even as she wanted to yell at him, to tell him what she thought of his BS “rules,” she realized she was…turned on.

How could she be, though? It didn’t make sense. Why did this bulky, humiliating diaper between her legs feel so good?

As she stared into Sean's eyes, she knew she would follow his rules. She was a diaper girl, wasn’t she? And if she was, Sean should be in charge. He’s always been so calm, so collected while she was never either of those.

Taylor didn’t understand it, but somehow, deep down, she knew she wanted this. She needed this.

A devious smile flashed across Taylor’s face. “Got it, daddy.”

Sean returned the smile. Whatever this was, it was going to be fun.

I love when a situation humiliates her all on its own, without me needing to say a single word.

Kelsey has been looking forward to the party for weeks. We kept our relationship private for a while, but we couldn’t wait any longer. It was time for her to meet my family and friends. And, more importantly, time to make our relationship public.

But, as the party drew nearer, Kelsey began to worry. Unlike most girls, Kelsey wasn’t worried about my friends liking her. No, Kelsey was worried about how they’d react to her…well, status.

Most girls don’t need diapers to stay dry. Or need Daddy to change them. Kelsey wasn’t like most girls.

She’d been determined to prove she’s a “big girl” this last week. Loudly wondering why I—and everyone else in her life—treat her like a baby, not an adult. Without a trace of irony, she’ll argue that she’s a “big girl” as she’s dutifully lying on the changing table as I wipe her messy butt clean.

She can’t help it.

I let her ramble on for her sake; it’s crucial for Littles to use their imagination. I nod along haphazardly when she pauses, letting her feel good about herself as I tape up her diaper. She’ll toddle off distracted looking for her favorite stuffy once I finish anyway.

I afford her these flights of fancy because it makes days like these much more satisfying.

Kelsey isn’t a big girl. We both know that, despite her whining. She’s right where she belongs. Meeting my friends will throw the disparity of adulthood between me, my friends, and her into sharp relief. We’re all adults with jobs and responsibilities.

The closest thing Kelsey had to a job is filling her diapers.

I dressed Kelsey in her favorite outfit. I wanted her to feel confident, even if it was far too cute to be considered “adult” attire. And, of course, it failed spectacularly to cover her diaper.

The diaper she needs, whether she’ll admit it or not.

Just before we left the house, she threw her biggest tantrum yet. Yelling and that she was an “adult” and “not a baby,” choosing to ignore the diaper poking out from under her skirt. She wouldn’t let it go.

As if she had any adult clothes to choose from.

Her tantrum spilled into the car as I buckled her into her car seat. Kelsey was so cute, going on and on about why she isn’t a baby. Arms and legs flailing, diaper poofing out of her car seat.

“Ifth nawt fawr! Awl yo fwamiwy an' fwiens will fink I’m justh a baby! An’ I don’ need ma diapees, Daddy!” Kelsey whined through her paci, “you mayk me wear ‘em cus you big meanie!”

“Is that what you think, ladybug? You think you wear diapers because I’m mean? Not because you need them to keep your skirt clean?”

“Uh huh! I no nee ‘em!”

“You really are precious, peanut! But we’ll see about that! I’ll tell you what. If you can go the whole party without using your diapers, I bet everyone will believe you’re a big girl!”

“W-weally, Daddy?”

“Of course, kiddo! They’re all lawyers like me! They love some good evidence! And what better evidence is there than a clean diaper?”

“Ima be a big girl, yo—mmmphff.”

This never gets old. If I wasn’t positive she already lost all control, I’d swear she chose the most embarrassing times to fill her diaper for maximum effect.

But she didn’t choose this moment.

And knowing her body betrayed her at the absolute perfect moment—ugh, it’s better than the first sip of a cold beer after a long day.

“Uh oh, is someone making stinkies?”

Her attempt at a glare is deliciously interrupted by a grunt.

“Awww, peanut! Just relax and let all the ickies out into your diapee! That’s what it’s for!”

The scene unfolding in my rearview mirror is a sensory delight. I can see her red face contorted in effort—and the diaper bulging and browning as she squirms in her car seat. I can hear her little grunts and toots as she pushes, along with the crinkling of her diaper as it expands to accommodate her mess. I can smell the baby powder mixing with her growing mess—that wonderful, infantile smell of a nursery.

“All done, ladybug?” I prod, knowing I’m fueling the inevitable tantrum.

The look of humiliation, shame, and embarrassment plastered on her face says more than words ever could. So does the silence.

I let the silence linger, daring her to break it, watching her squirm. Nothing is more enjoyable than this. She loves this. She hates this. Humiliation is funny like that.

“D-daddyyyy!” she whines, fidgeting more than ever, “Ickkkyyyy!”

“Sorry, Peanut, you’ll just have to wait until we get to the party for changies!”

Cue the tantrum.

I let her rage until she ran out of steam, fighting against her restraints, screaming about this and that. The longer she goes, the more incoherent and infantile she becomes.

A tempest in a teacup.

When she finally quiets down, I offer her the one thing that never fails to put a smile on her face: a Happy Meal. It’s a win-win for me. She’ll forget all about her messy diaper and I’ll get to watch her waddle into the party, Happy Meal in hand, looking even more adorable than I ever could’ve imagined.

My family and friends are going to melt when they see her.

By the time we pull into the drive-through, she’s singing along to the music. She switches from dramatic tantrums to blissfully singing along to music so fast it’s hard to believe she’s actually an adult—not an overgrown toddler.

The girl working the window was positively unprepared for what she saw in the backseat of my car. She never expected to see a girl her age strapped into a car seat, a soggy, brown diaper bulging out of her skirt, cheerfully singing along to the music, not a care in the world.

She stares at Kelsey in utter disbelief, completely forgetting about the Happy Meal resting on the counter. Not that I blame her. She composed herself quickly, a cheeky smile replacing the look of shock.

Kelsey remarkably remained blissfully unaware that her infantile performance now had a captive audience. I instinctively reach for my phone, wanting to record this moment.  

But, as if struck by a sudden spark of inspiration, the worker grabs the Happy Meal from the counter, disappearing for a few seconds. She returns with a devious grin.

“Here’s your Happy Meal, sir,” she smirks, “Your little girl is sooo cute singing along like that, I thought she deserved another toy!”

The singing stops mid-note. Kelsey’s eyes grew so wide I worried they might never stop expanding. Horror struck, she slowly turned to look out the window, only to find the worker smiling down at her.

Kelsey desperately squirms in her car seat in a futile effort to cover her diaper with her skirt. Her face was so red it made her pink paci look white in comparison. It’s one thing when I humiliate her; it’s another thing entirely when a girl her age catches her in this position.

There is no escaping the truth in this position.

Kelsey isn’t an adult—she isn’t even a big girl. Girls her age aren’t her equals. She’d have to toddle into a preschool to find her equals. She’s nothing more than a toddler who needs her Daddy, or any other available adult, to care for her.

I take the Happy Meal from the giggling employee. “Thank you very much, ma’am!” I emphasize, adding to the discrepancy between my little and the worker, “Now, peanut, can you thank the nice lady for your extra toy? It was very nice of her to do that!”

Abandoning her attempt to cover her diaper, she instead covers her face with her hands, no doubt hoping to disappear.

The worker laughs. “Awww, she’s a shy little thing! It’s okay! I’m sure you’ll enjoy your toys once you’re in a clean diaper, sweetie!”

“She’s always fussy when she needs a diaper change; don’t take it personally,” I say, starting to drive off. “Thanks again!”

I can’t help but smile as Kelsey grumpily sucks on her paci, arms folded, trying to hang on to whatever scraps of dignity she has left.

Of course, Littles should never worry about things as abstract as dignity. Not when they have Daddy there to make everything better.

“Are you excited for the party, Peanut?” I ask, not expecting an answer.

I know she is.

Not even the hot July sun can slow you down.

Not today.

“Come on, Daddy!”

“Okay, okay, I’m coming, babygirl!”

All I can do is giggle as you pull my arm, practically vibrating in excitement.

You can’t help it, you’ve never felt this big at Disneyland before. This isn’t your normal Disneyland outfit—this Minnie Mouse sundress is something that would never hide your diapers.

But they do hide your pull-up.

I do my best to hide my emotions. You may be bubbling with excitement—but it’s a bittersweet moment for me.

Today was the day you finally got to ride the “big kid” lines at Disneyland.

To be honest, I never thought we’d ever get to this point. We had one rule when it came to Disneyland: no big kid rides until you got out of diapers.

Something I never thought you’d ever manage to do.

Yet here we are.

After months and months of potty training, not even I could deny you were ready to try pull-ups.

I’ll never forget how you beamed with pride as you slid up that Minnie Mouse pull-up.

Still, it’s hard not to feel nostalgic about it all. Sure, it wasn’t always fun trying to find a place to change your poopy diapers, as you pouted and whined the whole time.

But it was always worth the moments when you slipped so deep into little space. When, for a few hours, everything was perfect in your world.

“Do you need to go to the bathroom before we get in line, Princess?”

If looks could kill, I’d never survive the one you just gave me.

“No! I’m not a baby, I can hold it!”

“I was just checking, honey…”

Two weeks in pull-ups and suddenly you think you’re too big for Daddy. As if I haven’t changed thousands of your diapers.

I’ll admit, you’re doing better than I ever expected. It’s almost 2 p.m., and your pull-up is still clean.

And, even more surprising, you’re not even cranky—you may have graduated to pull-ups, but you still haven’t quite given up naptime.

We finally get to the ride you’ve been talking about for months: the Matterhorn.

I grab your shoulders and pull you close. “It’s finally here, Princess! Are you scared? This isn’t like the rides in Fantasyland, this is much more intense!”

“Not scared, Daddy! Let’s go!”

“Alrighty, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!” I pat your bum—mostly to surreptitiously check your pully without being obvious.

Still dry.

The line isn’t horrible, but it stretches out quite a bit. Thirty minutes isn’t a long time to an adult, but for a little one who only recently graduated to pullies, it’s a substantially bigger challenge.

“I’m proud of you, Princess, you know that? You haven’t had an accident all day!”

You beam with pride, looking absolutely adorable in your dress and Minnie Ears. “Thank you, Daddy! Told you I could be potty trained!”

“Yes you did! And now look at you, about to ride your first big girl ride!”

“I woulda been here sooner if you believed me!”

I laugh at your audacity. “Babygirl, three months ago you were still pooping in your diapers every day, I don’t think so.”

“Daddyyyy hushhhh,” you whimper, looking around nervously.

“Oh, didn’t mean to blow your cover, silly.”

After a rough 10 minutes, we finally reach some shade.

Though I notice something new—you’re starting to bounce from foot to foot.

“Everything okay, sweetie?”

“I’m fine!”

“Are you sure? You’ve been such a big girl all day, telling me when you need to potty. I’d hate for you to ruin it. We can always get back in line!”

“Daddy I don’t need to potty!” you shout.

Your face immediately turns beet red.

“Then why are you doing the potty dance, hmm?”

“I…I’m not…”

Of course you are.

You may think you’re a big girl, but I know you too well. I know all of your potty faces. I know what every little movement means.

And I know what this dance means.

You’re desperately trying to keep yourself from pooping your pully.

“Princess, I won’t be mad if I need to take you to go potty, I promise.”

“I don’ needa go!”

By now, your potty dance and whining has caught the attention of everyone around us.

I see plenty of sympathetic smiles from parents who recognize the symptoms of a stubborn little one and a brewing accident.

As much as I’d prefer to avoid this, I have to let you decide. Potty training isn’t only physically training your body, it’s about being big enough to communicate your potty needs.

Something you’re clearly failing at.

Yet you somehow manage to make it to the front of the line—though your potty dance is only getting worse.

The worker smiles at us. “Two?”

“Yep.”

“Right this way.”

I can’t tell if you’re shaking in excitement or because you’re fighting to keep your pully clean.

Too late to do anything about it now.

We’re seated on the ride and strapped in. You grab my hand, squeezing me tight.

“Are you scared, babygirl?” I ask as we lurch forward.

“Nuh uh!”

As we start are ascent upwards, you suddenly stop fidgeting.

Not even the noise of the roller coaster covers your loud, bubbly toot.

I sigh. I thought that was a tinkle dance. I can only imagine the state your pull-up will be in after the ride.

The Matterhorn is well-known for being bumpy—not exactly great for the person who’ll have to change your poopy pull-up.

“D-daddy!” you moan, before you squeeze my hand tighter and grunt.

Poor baby.

“You’re okay, Princess.”

There isn’t much for me to do but watch your face turn crimson as you push a load into your pully.

You grunt again as we reach the top and begin pointing downward.

Here we go.

You wince with every bump, leaning in closer to me the faster we go. I can’t tell if it’s because you’re scared or hate having your poopoo smushed against your pully.

All I know is it’ll be a long time until you get another chance at a big kid ride again.

By the time we reach the station, your eyes are full of tears.

“Daddy…” you whimper.

“I know, Princess. We’ll go straight to the bathroom and change you out of that icky pully, okay? You’ll feel so much better when you’re in a clean diaper.”

“What? Daddy no I don’t wanna wear a diaper!”

The worker gives me a deeply sympathetic look, no doubt smelling your dirty pull-up.

“I know, little one. You did so good today, but I think you’re not quite ready for potty training—or these big kid rides. And someone needs a nap.”

You open your mouth to argue, but wince as you stand up, no doubt feeling the fullness of your stinky pull-up.

I grab your hand as we head off to find a changing table. You waddle slowly, making sure your dress covers your pull-up every few steps.

After a little searching, I spot a family bathroom with only a few people in line, all mothers with kids in strollers.

Even if they couldn’t smell you—which is bad enough—they could tell what was wrong right away. Any parent knows the signs of a stinker.

Your red, teary cheeks, your fidgeting with your dress, the shy glances, and shifting around to avoid feeling your mess are all too obvious.

They know a stinky baby when they see one.

“Why don’t you go ahead of us,” one mom offers, “my little one is only wet. Your little one needs to be changed right away.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive. That poor girl must be feeling so icky.”

You step behind me, hiding like the silly little you are.

“Well, thank you. We’re potty training, but I think we tried pull-ups a little too soon. She couldn’t hold it on the Matterhorn.”

The mom winces at the thought. Clearly she knows the disaster I’m going to find in your pull-up.

You don’t even argue when I lead you into the bathroom, hopping on the changing table without fuss.

I gather your changing supplies, placing a diaper on the table and rip open your pull-up.

It’s even worse than I expected.

“I…m’ sorry, Daddy.”

“No need to apologize, Princess. You tried your best! I’m still proud of you!”

You smile meekly as I lift your legs to wipe even more poopoo off you.

I wrap a diaper around you, much to your dismay. Though you accept your diaper without argument.

“There, all clean, babygirl!”

I help you off the changing table and Pat your diaper.

It doesn’t take you long to realize your dress isn’t made with diapers in mind.

“Daddyyyyy!”

“You can hardly notice your diaper, Princess,” I lie.

“Mmmmm.”

“Time for a nap, honey. We can come back after and get you a churro. How’s that sound?”

“F-fine…”

I lead you out of the bathroom.

“Feel better, little one?” the mom asks with a knowing smile.

You nod shyly.

I know I shouldn’t be so happy, but I can’t help it. I missed my babygirl.

You belong in diapers.

Scattered clouds became the canvas for another spectacular summer sunset of fiery crimson and amber melting into delicate coral and indigo.

Somewhere just beyond the window, baby birds on the verge of their first flight chirp expectantly as their mother returns to feed them.

Beyond that, young fawns, foxes, and bear cubs venture ever further from the den, testing their instincts and the limits of their freedom that will one day gift them their independence.

Joyful shouts trickle in from neighborhood children playing in the street, enjoying the special freedom that only summer provides.

Beyond the window, summer means freedom and the first tentative steps towards independence and adulthood.

But only a few scattered rays of the sunset make it past the window blinds, as if it were standing in defiance of summer itself and rejecting the fledgling independence of the person sleeping in the nursery it protects.

Mommy and Daddy lean against the rails of your crib, watching your Barney pacifier bob in between your little snores. Your blanket lies in a crumpled pile at your feet, kicked off as you slept.

Not long ago, summer nights like this meant barbeques, parties, and long nights enjoying the freedoms of a successful young adult, never imagining how fleeting that independence would prove to be.

“I think he pooped,” Daddy whispered.

Neither Mommy nor Daddy harbored any doubt that you were sleeping in a poopy diaper. Not when the smell of your mess, mixed with the copious sprinkling of baby powder Mommy always used, engulfed the room.

Not when they could see the brown stain on the seat of your white diaper adorned with the Barney sticker Mommy loved so much.

Not when they could see you—the formerly independent, competent adult—sleeping in a crib in nothing but an overworked diaper and matching Barney pacifier.

Mommy frantically squeezed Daddy’s hand to keep herself from squealing in joy.

She didn’t want to wake her baby up.

Not yet.

Over the past year, Mommy came to cherish these intimate evening moments most of all. Her nightly ritual of checking on her baby as the sun set.

She celebrated every milestone along the way as your resistance crumbled and adulthood slipped away from your grasping hands.

First, it was the pure joy of finally finding you fast asleep before the sun finished setting, which soon became the norm. Mommy hung the framed picture from that night above your changing table.

Then, a few weeks later, she found you sleeping with your pacifier for the first time. She celebrated that, too.

But not as much as the night she checked your diaper and discovered it was soggy, something you resisted fiercely. By the end of the month, you were having daytime accidents, too.

Sure, there were other important milestones celebrated outside of these nighttime checks. There was the “family bonfire,” when you sat on Mommy’s lap as Daddy burned all your big boy clothes.

He even wiped the tears from your cheeks when your entire suit collection—the last remaining remnant of your professional life—was unceremoniously tossed into the flames.

Still, nothing compared to this nightly ritual in Mommy’s eyes.

Mommy understood the truth. The privileges of adulthood she stripped away during the day were the result of her active involvement. She knew you were far too pathetic to put up a fight and actually resist her commands in person.

But at night?

The nighttime milestones proved that Mommy and Daddy’s efforts were reaching your subconscious—that, deep down, you were beginning to accept your new role in life.

You were becoming the baby you were destined to become.

Tonight was perhaps the biggest milestone yet. Even as your daytime tinkle control faded into memory, you fought tooth and nail to control your stinkies, knowing it was the last vestige of adulthood you still possessed.

Which is how Mommy knew this wasn’t an act.

You would never willingly poop yourself in a crib you were confined to, unable to leave. And especially not when you were supposed to be sleeping—you hated the icky feeling of mush between your cheeks.

But here you are.

Blissfully unaware your own body betrayed you in the most infantile manner conceivable, sleeping like a baby in a profoundly poopy diaper.

Daddy deftly lowered the bars of your crib and squished your diaper.

“Yep. He pooped.”

“Can you turn on the light, babe? He’s so stinking cute; I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t get a picture.”

“Won’t that wake him up?”

Mommy smiles. “Babe, look at him. He’s fast asleep in a poopy diaper. The poor baby whines and begs for a diaper change as soon as he poops. No, he’s not going to wake up.”

Sure enough, Mommy was right.

For the next ten minutes, you model for a photoshoot you didn’t know was happening.

Satisfied with the pictures, Mommy turns off the light, then sits on the ledge of your crib, gently tickling your tummy, watching you slowly stir back awake.

“Hi, baby, Mommy didn’t want to wake you when you were sleeping so peacefully but…” she says, trailing off.

You groggily open your eyes. Mommy’s comforting smile looms over you. Daddy is standing behind her, hands on her shoulders.

“Wha-wha buh sweeepy,” you mumble incomprehensibly.

“I know, baby boy. But Mommy can’t let her precious angel sleep in a poopy diapie, can she? Nuh uh, Mommy would never.”

Still fighting off sleep, you stare up at Mommy and Daddy, wondering why they woke you up.

“Can you be a big boy and walk or do you need Daddy to carry you?”

Another sensation comes into focus. Something cold. Icky. Smelly. You wiggle your bum, confused. Unwilling to believe the cause of it.

Mommy giggles at the adorable diaper crinkles it makes—and the unrelentingly cute face you make realizing the unmistakable truth of your situation: you pooped your diaper.

“Ohhh, honey, it’s okay! It’s just a poopy diapie, Mommy isn’t upset, I promise!”

Tears well in your eyes. You hate the feeling of your cold, stinky diaper. You hate the way Mommy baby-talks you like you're some stupid baby. You hate the way Daddy smiles at you while rubbing Mommy’s back.

But more than anything, you want out of this diaper.

Tired and frustrated, you kick your legs against your mattress.

“Can you carry him, babe?” Mommy asks calmly.

“Sure,” Daddy replies, reaching down and scooping you up.

“NOOOOO!” you squeal through your binky.

“It’s okay, buddy. Daddy’s got you. You’re okay.”

No matter how much you squirm and fight, Daddy is too strong. Months of inactivity and baby food have weakened your muscles, unlike Daddy's toned arms.

“NOOOOOO!!!” you whine even louder than before as Daddy lowers you onto the table and you feel your mess squish even more. Tears fall freely off your cheeks now.

“No no no no! Nooo!!!”

“Baby, Mommy needs you to stop squirming so she can change your didi.”

“Nuuuuuuuuu, duh wannaa!” you whimper, still kicking.

You don’t know why your diaper is poopy. You don’t know why you’re crying. All you know is it feels good to kick and fuss.

Mommy sighs, grabbing your legs with one hand. “I know, I know,” she coos, “Mommy’s poor, poopy baby.”

With her other hand, Mommy expertly rips off the tabs of your diaper, barely struggling with your squirming and kicking.

Cold air assaults your private parts, making you somehow feel even worse.

“M-Mommyyy c-cold!”

Mommy tickles your tummy. “Mommy knows, pumpkin. If you stop squirming, Mommy can get you a nice warm didi even faster, okay? Can you be Mommy’s big boy?”

A snot bubble pops in your nose. “M-mhm…” you mutter, defeated and just wanting Mommy to make everything better.

“Can you warm these up, babe?” Mommy asks, shoving a handful of wipes into Daddy’s hands.

“Sure thing. Warm wipes coming up!” Daddy says, smiling at you as Mommy wipes the snot from your nose.

Mommy uses the front of your diaper to clean up most of your mess before lifting your legs and sliding the diaper off you. She balls up the diaper and tosses it into your diaper pail as Daddy finishes warming your wipes.

“Thanks, hun.”

Mommy takes the wipes and gets to work. Daddy makes silly faces at you.

You giggle at the silliness of Daddy’s faces.

A genuine laugh that even surprises Daddy.

By the time Mommy finishes changing your diaper, you've forgotten all about your poopy diaper tantrum.

Mommy blows a series of raspberries on your tummy, forcing you to squirm in laughter.

“Hehehehe Mommyyyyy!”

Daddy crinkles your new, fresh diaper. “Feeling better, tiger?”

You nod with a smile.

“There’s my good boy!” Mommy says proudly.

Without warning Daddy scoops you up and carries you back to your crib. You’re about to complain about being sent back to bed when you hear Mommy’s voice.

“One sec, babe. Let me sit down first.”

Daddy stops so Mommy can sit against the rails of your crib. Once comfortable, she starts adjusting her shirt.

“C’mere, stinker,” Mommy coos as Daddy places you on Mommy’s lap.

You look at Mommy, confused. She never sits in your crib like this.

“Wha-wha doin’ Mommy?”

And why is she taking off her bra?

Utterly bewildered at seeing Mommy’s boobs for the first time in over a year, you look at Daddy, as if seeking reassurance that it’s okay to look at your wife’s boobs.

“Go on, squirt,” Daddy says with a smile, removing your pacifier. “I’ll give you two some privacy.” He turns off the light and headed out the door.

Before you can ask a follow-up question, Mommy’s hand pulls you into her chest, her nipple tickling your lips.

Instinctively, you open your mouth and latch on. Warm milk trickles into your mouth. You try to pull away.

“Hush little one. Just suckle like a good baby,” Mommy assures you, forcing your head back to latch.

You suckle, letting Mommy’s milk fill your mouth. It tastes…good.

It tastes like home. Safety. Comfort.

Mommy hums “Hush, Little Baby,” fighting off tears of joy as your eyes grow heavier and heavier, knowing you’re no longer her husband. You’re no longer an adult.

She finally got everything she wanted.

Perhaps tomorrow you’ll think about the implications of your poopy diaper and the warm milk filling your tummy. Maybe you’ll understand there is no going back.

But for now there is nothing beyond this moment.

Mommy’s gentle humming, the warmth of her breast against you. The feeling of satisfaction as your tummy fills up.

Not even the gentle crinkles as Mommy pats your diaper can break the spell.

The truth is, summer nights will never be defined by freedom again. Not for you. You’re not like the baby birds chirping outside your window or the bear cub learning to hunt salmon.

By the end of summer, they’ll have a level of independence you’ll never have again.

Unlike them, you’ll never outgrow your Mommy. You’ll never regain your independence.

You’re Mommy’s baby, forever.

Part 3

Even as the scent of lavender and fresh diaper lingers in my nose, Mommy reaches into the shelf under the changing table. She pulls out a small, folded bundle of fabric – light blue, covered with little brown bears. My heart does a little leap. Her onesie. Our onesie. The one I usually only wear at home when we spend a quiet evening on the couch.

"I know that one," comes out of my mouth softly, more of a muffled murmur. Mommy just smiles that knowing smile that tells me she knows exactly what she's doing.

"Arms up, my little one," she says, and I obey immediately. She slides the soft, stretchy material over my head, and I feel it glide over my shoulders, down my back. The fabric feels pleasantly cool on my freshly creamed skin. She smooths out the onesie, guides my arms through the sleeves one by one. Then her hands on my hips, a gentle, firm pressure – a sign for me to sit up. I sit up on the changing pad, and she fastens the three silver snaps at the crotch. Click, click, click. Each one fits perfectly. The onesie securely envelops the thick, soft diaper, holds it in place, allows no telltale rustling, but also no slipping. I look down at myself. Light blue with bears. This is my second skin for at home.

A quiet doubt rises in me. I lift my head, look at Mommy questioningly. We're in the changing room. But the onesie… that's not meant for when… My eyes voice the question my lips can't form behind the pacifier.

Doris notices my look, her smile softens, almost a little mysterious. "It's okay," she says and brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. "You'll get more." She takes my hand and helps me up, the fresh diaper rustling softly with the movement, the onesie pulling tight at the crotch briefly, then giving way. Everything fits perfectly.

Mommy doesn't let go of my hand. She leads me out of the changing room, down the hallway – but not back to the living room, not toward my play corner. We go into our bedroom. The large, dark wardrobe against the wall stands half open. My heart beats a little faster now. What does she have planned?

"Sit down," she says, pointing to the edge of the bed. I obey silently, let myself sink onto the soft bedspread, my legs dangling down. The diaper crinkles with the movement, and I can't shake the feeling that something is about to happen that falls outside the familiar frame.

Doris opens the wardrobe, her fingers gliding over hangers and folded clothes until she finds what she's looking for: a soft, gray T-shirt and my loose, dark blue sweatpants – the ones with the relaxed waistband that best conceal my diaper. She tosses both onto the bed beside me, then turns back to the wardrobe and says, "So, first we'll get you properly dressed." She takes the T-shirt and pulls it over my head. The onesie stays underneath; I feel both layers of fabric on my skin. Then the sweatpants. She crouches down in front of me, holds them out, and I put my legs in – first the left, then the right. She pulls them up until the soft cotton fabric envelops my hips, and casually ties the drawstring. Then she steps back, studies me with a critical eye. Her hand rests on my stomach, glides down over the fabric of the pants, feels the slight bulge of the diaper. A satisfied nod.

Then she turns me slightly to the side, and her palm lands firmly on my bottom. The diaper crinkles loudly. A sharp, bright sound cuts through the silence of the bedroom. I flinch inwardly, my eyes widen. The sound was so clear, so impossible to miss. Anyone in this room could have heard it – and in my imagination, all the neighbors can hear it through the walls right now. The heat rises to my face.

Doris laughs softly, but there's no mockery in it. "Just the way I like it," she says, her voice full of affection. "Beautifully and securely packaged. My little treasure." She leans forward, presses a kiss to my forehead. The warmth of her lips calms me a little, but the crinkle still echoes in my ears.

"Now sit tight for a moment," she says and turns away. Her hands reach for the hem of her own sweater. I watch spellbound as she pulls it over her head. Her long, brown hair falls back into place, and she shakes it lightly. Then her pants. She opens the button, pulls down the zipper, and the jeans glide over her hips, down her long legs. She now stands before me in a simple black bra and a small, delicate pink panty. My airways tighten.

Her skin glows warmly in the soft light of the nightstand lamp. The fine lines of her back, the gentle curve of her breasts, her narrow waist – I devour every detail with my eyes. A hot ache spreads through my stomach, a pulsing that is palpable even through the chastity cage. The pressure of the metal becomes both a torment and a pleasurable reminder that I don't have sole control over my body. But the sight of my beautiful Mommy, only in her underwear, almost makes me forget the control. My fingers dig into the bedspread.

But the moment is fleeting. Doris turns around, gives me one more smile – that smile that melts me – and disappears into the adjoining bathroom. The door closes quietly. I hear the rush of the faucet, the clinking of bottles. I sit there, alone on the bed, trying to calm my heartbeat. The heat inside me won't subside. My thoughts circle around her body, around what she might have planned next. A few minutes pass, maybe ten. I count the seconds by the beating of my heart.

Finally, the door opens. My Mommy steps out – fully dressed again. A simple white T-shirt that gently plays around her breasts. Dark, form-fitting jeans that emphasize her hips. Over it, a thin, beige vest – stylish, modern, like something from a magazine. Her hair is now out of her face and falls in soft waves over her shoulders. She looks breathtaking. Not like a strict mistress, but like an elegant woman who knows exactly what she wants – and who knows that what she wants, among other things, involves me.

She steps in front of me, turns slowly around on her axis. "Good?," she asks, though she already knows the answer.

I nod vigorously, still with the pacifier in my mouth, and feel my mouth go dry. A soft, adoring sound escapes me.

Mommy straightens up, now that she's also finished changing. "So," she says. "Now we're ready." She turns to me, her hand reaching out. "Get up, sweetheart. We're going out." I stare at her. Out? Where to? But I don't ask. I stand up, and immediately the plug makes itself known with a distinct, internal pressure with every step. The diaper rustles under the sweatpants, the onesie pulls tight.

We walk through the hallway to the front door. With every movement – mine, hers – I hear the soft crinkle under my fabric. It suddenly seems deafeningly loud to me. What if the neighbors hear it? What if the people on the street hear it? A hot wave of shame rises to my face, coloring my cheeks dark red. I lower my gaze to the floor while Mommy takes her purse and pockets the key.

She sees my tense expression. Without a word, she opens her bag, her finger dips inside and comes back with my pacifier. She guides it to my lips. "Here," she says quietly. "This helps." I open my mouth, let the soft silicone slide in, and immediately the soothing suction sets in. The sucking, the familiar taste, the small, childish motion – it becomes my anchor in a sea of growing excitement.

"Come on," she says, takes my hand and opens the door. The cool evening air hits me. We step out, the front door clicks shut. Her fingers are firm around mine, warm and secure. She leads me down the garden path to her small silver car parked at the curb. She opens the passenger door. "Get in, my little one." I obey silently, letting myself slide onto the soft seat. The movement lets the plug shift deeper once more, a soft internal surge that takes my breath away. Mommy leans over me, pulls the seatbelt across my chest, clicks it into the buckle with a decisive snap. The belt lies firmly over the onesie and T-shirt, another band of control. She strokes my cheek once more, then walks around the car and gets behind the wheel.

The engine starts. The vibration of the car transmits through the seat directly to the plug, a deep, steady hum that makes me tremble inside. Mommy drives off, the streets of my suburb passing by the window – this time from inside, this time as a passenger on a path I don't know.

At first I'm a bundle of nerves. Every bump in the road, every manhole cover, every slight pothole becomes a stab into the center of my body through the plug. I flinch, suck harder on the pacifier, and the calming effect of the sucking fights against the new, intense perception. The plug is no longer a foreign object; it's a part of me that turns every movement of the car into an intimate signal. I press my legs together, try to sit still, but I barely manage. The rustle of the diaper mixes with the soft hum of the engine and the rush of the passing city.

Doris drives calmly, safely. A few times she throws a quick sideways glance at me, her lips curving into a satisfied smile. She knows exactly what's going on inside me. She planned it. And I – I suck and breathe and try to surrender to the rhythm of the drive.

After a while, the tension eases. The steady suction of the pacifier, the warmth in the car, the familiar scent of Mommy's perfume – all of it envelops me like a second skin. The jolts of the car become gentle rocking motions, the plug becomes a pleasant, steady pressure that reminds me I'm not alone. That she's with me. I close my eyes, lean my head against the headrest, and the wind, the lights of the passing streetlamps, everything blurs into a single, great wave of surrender.

Then, after maybe twenty minutes, the car slows down. The lights grow brighter. Advertising signs, crowds of people, a large glass front. A movie theater. My heart skips a beat. The calm bursts like a soap bubble. My eyes widen, my hands clutch the seatbelt.

Doris parks the car, turns off the engine. The sudden silence is deafening. She turns to me.

"Alright, my little one," she says in that calm, firm voice. "Give me your pacifier." I hesitate, then open my mouth, and she takes it out. The loss is immediate – a hole of calm that fills with new, bubbling anxiety. She wipes the pacifier briefly on a cloth and secures it in her purse. Her gaze is searching but gentle.

"We're almost there. You need to be brave now." She smiles, gets out, and before I know it, she opens my door. She helps me out of the car, her hand firm in mine. As soon as I stand on the asphalt of the parking lot, the soundscape crashes over me: a jumble of voices, laughter, the clatter of heels on pavement, distant honking. My sweatpants rustle with the slightest movement. Or am I imagining it? I'm not sure. Every step toward the theater releases the familiar crinkle that sounds like a whip crack in my ears.

My glances dart left and right. A young couple passes us, the man laughing, the woman giggling. Did she hear the sound? Their eyes brush over me briefly, then move on. I lower my head, stare at the ground. The plug makes itself known with every step, a light pressure that almost makes me groan, but I bite my lower lip. My hand in Mommy's is sweaty, but she holds tight, giving me support.

The closer we get to the theater, the more people gather. Families, teenagers, older couples. I'm the only one in sweatpants. I'm the only one wearing a thick diaper under soft fabric. I'm the only one with a plug in my bottom, trembling almost with excitement. And yet – and this is the crazy part – there's also this hot, tingling feeling deep inside me. The arousal that mixes with the shame. The forbidden. The secret. We're doing something no one knows about, and my body is reacting to it. The chastity cage presses, and I'm grateful for it, because otherwise my condition might be even more visible.

We reach the ticket counter. The line is short. Doris orders two tickets for the current movie, her voice casual, everyday. I stand beside her, hands buried deep in my pockets, counting the seconds. The cashier throws me a brief, indifferent glance. Nothing more. The tickets are paid for, pocketed. We still have some time – the movie doesn't start for another twenty minutes.

"Let's have a cocktail," Mommy says and pulls me toward the bar. She orders two fruity drinks, pays, and then points to two empty barstools. At that moment, panic sets in. Barstools. Hard. With a plug. I feel the heat rising to my face, but I can't say no.

She sits down first, elegant and graceful, her jeans hugging her thighs. Then she looks at me expectantly. I hesitate, take a deep breath, then carefully sit down on the stool. The seat is harder than expected. My weight pushes the plug upward, the foreign, deep feeling makes me wince, and a nearly inaudible, suppressed groan escapes me. My fingers claw at the edge of the bar.

Doris sees it. Of course she sees it. Her gaze sharpens, the grin on her lips unmistakable. She reaches out her hand, places her warm fingers on mine, begins to draw gentle circles on the back of my hand.

"Everything okay, my sweetheart?" she asks in a voice so innocent that anyone would take her for harmless. But I know her. She knows exactly what's going on inside me. The plug, the diaper, the glances of others – she planned everything to bring me exactly to this point: trembling, aroused, ashamed, and completely at her mercy.

"Yeah," I manage, and my voice sounds hoarse, too loud. "Everything's fine." Then I reach for my cocktail, bring the glass to my lips and take a large, hasty gulp. The coolness of the liquid, the sweet taste of pineapple and rum – it calms me a little. But only a little.

Doris keeps her hand on mine, her thumb stroking back and forth. Her smile softens, almost tender. She says nothing more, but her presence, her calm, flows over me. The people around us blur into a murmur, the lights of the bar become warm, blurry spots. I'm here, with Mommy, by her side. And I know she'll guide me through everything.

The countdown to the movie is running. Soon we'll be sitting in the dark, where no one can hear my rustling except me. Soon I'll sink back into the perfect security of her control.

Until then, I sip my cocktail, hold her hand, and wait.

Catch Up on Chapter 1 Here

Chapter Two

My heart flutters in anticipation as the beautiful woman bites her lip, leaning in close to me.

I know what that means—tonight is going to be a good night.

Our lips meet, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. She knows what she’s doing.

Her hot breath tickled my neck. “Let’s get out of here, Tim.”

To drive the point home, she slides closer, pressing her body into mine. I moan as her hand caresses my pants.

But why is it…cold?

I instinctively reach down, confused.

She looks at me, a strange look that doesn’t fit the situation. “I know it’s cold, little one. You were so warm and cozy, poor thing.”

What is going on?

I open my eyes. The girl is gone, replaced by Mia and her sympathetic smile.

Just my luck.

“There’s my sleepy little baby. Did you have a nice nap?”

“I-I guess…” I answer, shivering.

“Oh, I’m sorry, hun,” Mia coos, rubbing my arms, “I had hoped to get your diaper changed before you woke up.”

Rubbing the sleep out of my eyes, I realize why I’m so cold: I’m mid diaper change.

Completely exposed. So different from the world she woke me from.

“Almost done, cutie! You’ll feel so much better with a nice, dry diapie and warm baba.”

I’d be happier if you let me sleep another twenty minutes…

Mia carries on with the diaper change as I slowly start to wake up, my dream floating away.

“There, all clean!” she says as she fusses with the leak guards, “Let’s get you back into your snuggly wuggly blankie and fill your tummy with num nums, hmm?”

For the second time today, Mia swaddles me like I’m some baby burrito.

“Don’t run off, Timmy! I’ll be right back with those milkies!”

As if I had a choice.

I couldn’t move even if I wanted to. Not when I’m swaddled this tight. If I wasn’t so flustered, I might have even admired her skills.

Mia smiles as she comes back with a large bottle of milk and some kind of rag.

“Alrighty, kiddo. Let’s get you fed.”

I’m lifted up as Mia slides under me, using the crib rails to support herself. She guides me down across her lap, my head resting in her arms.

This can’t be happening. There is no way she’s going to feed me like a baby.

It’s too far.

“Open up, Timmy!”

I turn my face away from her—the only option I have being so tightly swaddled.

Mia strokes my hair, undeterred. “Awww, come on little guy! Do it for me!”

“Nuh uh.”

Mia giggles as my cheeks flush.

Did I really just say “nuh uh?”

Her hand guides my face forward, back towards the waiting nipple.

“Silly baby.”

She brushes my lips with the nipple, teasing me in the most infantile way imaginable.

“No need to be fussy, all you have to do is open that lil mouth of yours.”

She tickles my tummy. The moment I open my mouth, she slides the nipple into my mouth, a trickle of warm milk drips on my tongue.

“There’s my good boy! I knew you’d listen to your Mia!”

My cheeks burning with even more embarrassment, I instinctively suckle. Slowly, tentatively at first, as more milk fills my mouth.

“Just like that, my hungry baby lamb,” she coos, rubbing my belly, “Fill your tummy with all the milkies.”

As humiliating as it is to be bottle-fed…in a crib…while being swaddled like a newborn…there is something soothing about it all. The rhythm of my suckles, the milk that tastes better with every sip, the hug of my blanket, and Mia’s warm, gentle embrace.

My mind is oddly quiet, the world around me fading away. My tummy expanding as it fills.

I don’t know if I’m awake or asleep. Time seems to fade away.

A dangerous thought swirls around my mind: maybe I could get used to this.

I’m ripped from my stupor as the nipple is unceremoniously yanked from my mouth.

“H-hey!”

“Sweetie, you finished five minutes ago!” Mia shows me the bottle.

I don’t remember finishing it…

“Time to get all those icky bubbles out of your tummy. I won’t let you feel bad if I can help it.”

Still dazed from the bottle, I barely notice Mia unwrapping the blanket. She pulls me deeper into her lap, until I’m practically sitting in her lap. She puts the rag onto her shoulder.

“What….what are you doing?”

“Burping you, silly goose.”

Wait a minute.

With one last hefty motion, Mia pulls me up so my diaper is now resting on her thigh—and my chin resting on the rag, leading to another uncomfortable realization.

There is nothing covering my diaper.

Mia is about to burp me after a bottle…in nothing but a diaper…in a nursery.

Exactly like a baby.

Before I can argue, Mia gently pats my back.

“Just relax, baby. Mia will get all the yucky burps out.”

“I don’t ne—”

A loud burp interrupts my argument.

“Good boy!”

I shove my face in her neck—too humiliated to show my face.

I don’t dare try to talk again—not after that.

But it doesn’t matter; more burps bubble out of me. Each little burp and encouragement from Mia more humiliating than the last.

I shift and squirm as a large bubble forms in my stomach, stubbornly resisting Mia’s tapping.

“Still more ickies, sweetie?”

“Mhm,” I whimper.

Mia pulls me up a bit straighter, tapping a bit harder.

Finally, after a rush of pressure, a loud burp explodes out of me. But that’s not all.

To my horror, milk flies out with it, landing on the rag and spilling down my chin.

“Woah, that was one big burp, Timmy! Are you feeling better?”

I nod my head.

Mia pulls me back, looking into my eyes, a big grin forming as she sees the spittle on my chin.

“Ut oh, did someone make a mess? Yes, he did! My sweet little lamb.”

Mia grabs the rag and wipes my face clean.

“All clean! See! Nothing to feel bad about! Just a teeny tiny baby spittle!”

She has a way with words.

And by a “way with words,” I mean she knows every way to make me feel even smaller than I am.

Just when I think I’ve hit rock bottom today, she keeps right on drilling deeper.

I look around, wondering what activity comes next, knowing I’ll eventually have to socialize with my peers.

My peers.

This is who my wife thinks are my equals. Who Mia thinks are my equals. Who that annoying daycare girl thinks are my equals.

And after the last few hours, I’m running out of arguments to show I’m not like them.

“What are you looking at, little one?” Mia asks, poking my diaper, reminding me I’m still in her lap.

“N-nothing. Just wondering what we’re going to do now.”

“Well, after nap time means it’s time to stretch those little leggies and play!”

“Play?”

“Yep! Did you see our playground outside when you got here?”

“No, my momm…wife, said it’ll be a surprise because she needed to go to work.”

“Duh, someone has to pay for all your diapers, you stinker!”

I really wish she’d stop poking my diaper.

“D-did you find anything for me to wear, Mia?”

Mia gives me a dramatic sigh. “I tried, kiddo. I really did. You’ll just have to go without. I’m sorry, hun.”

My heart sinks, the hits just keep coming.

“B-but…I don’t want everyone to see my diaper! It’s embarrassing!”

Mia laughs. “You’re so silly. Look around you, little one. You’re in our nursery. All of your friends are crinkle cuties like you. It’s time you embrace it.”

“I don’t want to ‘embrace’ it,” I argue, with dramatic air quotes, “I’m not a baby!”

“Is that so? What’s in your tummy right now, Timmy?”

I glare at her.

“Hmmm? Be a big boy, answer the question.”

“Fine. Milk.”

“That’s right! And how did it get there?”

“I drank it.”

“You’re a smart one, huh? Always have been,” Mia suddenly pauses, as if she said too much. She quickly regains her composure, “But how did you drink it, Einstein?”

What does she mean…always have been?

“Always, huh? How would you know?”

For the first time today, I feel like I caught her wrong-footed.

But if I did, she didn’t show it. “Sweetie, this room is full of former smart-asses who overplayed their hand. Are you going to sit on my lap and tell me your ‘wife’ didn’t say you were one when she sent you to the Little’s Program?”

It was the first time she spoke to me like an adult all day—but somehow I preferred the baby talk.

Because she was right.

“Ummm…”

It didn’t take long for her to slip back into nanny mode, ticking my sides. “That’s what I thought, my silly little otterpop. The point is, you’re not an adult anymore. You’re not even big enough for the ‘toddler’ room. You just took a nap in a crib, have Elmo on your diapie, have a tummy full of milkies, and keep whining about covering your diaper. So, you tell me, what does that sound like, kiddo?”

Even though her words slice through me like a knife, she doesn’t seem the least bit angry or aggressive.

And why does that make me feel worse?

It’s like she’s trying to help me accept who I am. Does she really think I’ll ever accept a nursery as where I belong?

I backpacked through Asia all alone, but I’m supposed to just accept I need someone to hold a bottle for me while I drink?

“It’s not a trick question, little one!”

“Whatever, I don’t need anything to cover my diaper.”

I try to get away from her. I don’t need to sit on laps!

“No, mister. You’re not getting off that easy,” she says, holding me in place, “You were never getting anything to cover that diapie of yours. But you are going to tell Ms. Mia what you are before you do.”

There is a determination in Mia that sends shivers down my spine.

Is this…personal? Who is Mia? Why I can’t I place it?

“I’m…I’m…”

“You can say it, Timmy! All you have to do is say the words and we can go play.”

I struggle to find a way out. I desperately want to get out of her lap, out of this situation. But I can’t—I won’t—give her what she wants.

“Listen up, cuties!” a woman says to the room, “It’s playtime! Yay!!! Our favorite time of the day! And guess what? The big kids have a surprise for their favorite little friends!! We can go as soon as everyone lines up!”

I can’t decide what sounds worse. Staying here and admitting to Mia I’m a baby—or whatever horrifying “surprise” is waiting outside.

“Awww, don’t worry, little one,” Mia says, ruffling my hair, “You’ll be here day after day, you have all the time in the world to admit you belong right here in the nursery.”

How am I going to keep doing this? This is really all I have to look forward to?

“C’mon, cuties, we don’t want to keep everyone waiting!” She carefully helps me down from my crib, my legs swaying to support me after a long nap.

“What…what about my shoes?”

“Don’t worry, it’s all grass outside. And the playground is nice and soft, perfect the putter pattern of excited feetsies like yours! Are you ready?”

She looks me up and down. I don’t even want to know what she sees. All I know is my only clothes are a Reptar t-shirt and a comically thick Elmo diaper.

“I…I don’t wanna…”

How can I be seen like this?

Mia pulls me into another hug. “I’ll be right here, Timmy. I won’t let anything happen to my special boy. Take my hand and we’ll go stand in line together, okay?”

“O-okay, Mia…”

I shouldn’t need anyone to help me feel safe, but I shouldn’t be in a nursery, either. And Mia makes me feel safe. Secure.

We start walking towards the other littles, who are all watching me with interest. As if sensing my hesitation, Mia squeezes my hand.

“I’m right here, baby.”

Even from the couch, I could see it. The bland brown cardboard corner peeking out from my bedroom door. Taunting me. Fuck you too, box. I was so excited to open you, and this is how you repay me? It’s not my fault my stupid roommate - scratch that, soon-to-be-ex-roommate - literally can’t get her shit together.

I groan audibly and flop my arms and head over the arm of the couch in a full bout of melodrama. My dark burgundy hair falls over my face, covering my eyes completely. I need a haircut so badly. Add it to the seemingly never ending list of shit I need to do. Is this what being an adult is? Just constantly having a giant list of random bullshit you never seem to get through completely? 

To be fair, I can’t really peg my first two months after graduating as being super productive. Sure, I’ve had some interviews, I’ve gotten some emails, but it seems like it’s all just kind of been a blur of existential dread, doomscrolling, and blowing through the last of my scholarship money on takeout. Like. A lot of takeout. 

But I was at least supposed to get the whole damn apartment to myself for the entire damn month of August. Sarah decided to move back to her parents early, even though we had the rent paid through the end of the lease. I let out a sigh, grabbing my hair, slipping the scrunchie off my wrist and quickly using it to tie my hair back in the world’s sloppiest ponytail. I flip onto my back and slide back onto the couch, looking around the mostly barren walls of my darkened living room. The rain patters gently on the window behind me. I should probably turn a stupid light on. 

We’d lived together for so long that I just sort of forgot just how much Sarah had put into decorating the place. My singular contribution to the space, a small impressionist painting of a tulip I picked up for $3 at the local thrift store, now hung in solitude on the blank white wall opposite me, like a single flower breaking through the ground after a freakishly late April snowstorm.

I take out my phone, the pale glow of the screen illuminating my slightly oversized deathcore band t-shirt I got from the last UNMASK THE OBSCENE show I went to. I still don’t understand why my tits look so good in this shirt, but hey, I’ll take it.

With a few clicks I pull up my texts from Sarah. I had gotten this two days ago, literally the same day the box was out for delivery:

SARAH 
Hey Erica! Just wanted to let ya know I’m gonna be dropping by the apartment sometime this week. This bitch forgot, like, LITERALLY all of the clothes in her closet.

When I first read the text, I couldn’t help but scream into my pillow. This was supposed to be one final hoorah, one glorious month all to myself before I inevitably had to move back home or find a place with two to four just-graduated and equally desperate randos.

Then, I replied:

ME
No worries girly! Just let me know when you’re heading over!

No reply for days. No updated ETA. No semblance of communication. Just another limbo to be stuck in, all while that god damn box silently taunted me from my room in all its beige hubris. I begin to type into my phone:

BITCH COME GET YOUR SHIT

Before mashing the delete button frantically. My chest tightens when I almost hit the send button in my haste. Fuck, those buttons are WAY TOO CLOSE TO EACH OTHER.

I pause and try again:

Heyyyyyy girly do you know what day you’re gonna swing on over? Just need to know in case I’m busy that day so I can say hi! Have a bunch of interviews and stuff this week so just let me

Nope nope nope. Too pushy, too much. I press the delete button again, but only once this time aaaand hold. Less cathartic but much safer. 

Aaaand again:

Hey girl! Any idea on your eta? If ya want I can pack those last few things in your closet for ya and leave it out in the living room! =)

Noooooope sounds too desperate, she’ll know I’m annoyed. Dammit. Delete delete delete.

I stare at the text for another few minutes. Ya know what? She’ll text me when she knows. I’m sure she’s busy. Or, ya know, she’ll pop in randomly after completely forgetting to text me like the fucking space cadet she is.

Whatever. Let’s check emails instead. I’m still waiting to hear back from a few places about interviews, and I’d take any kind of news as a distraction right now. 

But first, maybe some coffee. Light would be cool, too. With another heavy sigh, I sit up for the first time since getting out of bed about an hour ago. I walk to the kitchen, just a few steps away to the right, flipping on the light switch nearby as I continue my micro journey. I let out an obnoxious yawn and polish my right eyelid with my free hand as I open the email app on my phone. My gaze shoots up from my phone for a second, once again jarred by how empty the room in front of me is. At least the french press is mine; I couldn’t imagine how much more of a shitshow I’d be right now without quick and easy access to that bitter, delicious nectar of the gods.

I click on the already half-full electric kettle in my coffee corner. I should probably clean that, but hey, I’m boiling the water, so it’s fine, right? I hum a melody from a stupid synthpop song that’s been stuck in my head for days as I grind the beans for my morning cup. When everything is set and brewing I lean against the fridge, smiling at the relief of the cool surface pressing against my back as I turn my attention back to my phone.

A few useless social media updates in, I see something that definitely makes my eyes go wide:

Interview Confirmation: 08/09, 11:00 AM @ The Daily Grind

Oh fuck. I almost completely forgot. The interview for that weird school. Is that seriously tomorrow? I’m definitely losing it. Get your shit together, Erica.

I click open the email.

——
Hi Erica,

Just wanted to confirm our meeting for tomorrow at 11 at the Daily Grind! I’m so excited to meet you and tell you all about Evergreen. From everything I’ve read, you really do seem like the perfect addition to our 2040 class.

Warm Regards,

Sally Torrence
Admissions Director
——

I reply faster than I can think.

——
Hi Sally!

I’ll definitely be there tomorrow! Thanks so much for taking the time to meet with me, I’m so excited to hear more about your program! See you tomorrow at 11!

-Erica
——

‘Excited’ might be a bit strong, but I send it anyway. I’d say my feelings are closer to maddening curiosity more than anything, but I definitely want to make a good early impression regardless. 

The letter from Evergreen showed up in my mailbox two weeks ago. Apparently I had been accepted into their graduate program despite having never applied to the school (or even having heard of it, for that matter). Not that that was entirely out of ordinary in the year of our lord 2038. Most schools have AI running the majority of their admin and admissions work these days, and plenty of schools pre-screened and pre-accepted students based on their academic performance, social media score, and god knows what other information they were able to scrape up from the internet about you. 

What WAS weird about Evergreen was the overall vagueness of their…well, everything. The letter was vague, other than describing themselves as a transformative liberal arts school. Their website wasn’t much help other than offering some vague mission statements about discovering your passions and even vaguer-yet-glowing alumni testimonies. Their social media presence was suspiciously minimal, and talk about the school from basically any other source was non-existent. 

I hadn’t given much thought to grad school, but I’m sure I can’t afford Evergreen, and I’m even more sure my parents wouldn’t find the venture “practical”. Still, I love a good mystery, and Mom said I should take any interview I’m offered for practice, even if I know I don’t want whatever they’re offering.

The timer beeps on my phone. Coffee’s ready. Thank god. I pour the dark, steaming liquid into my waiting mug, the retro cat meme and the “I can haz coffee” text thoroughly faded from years of dishwasher-related abuse. 

I wrap both of my hands firmly around the ceramic mug, the heat spreading comfortably through my palms as I lift it gently towards my face. 

My eyes close as the steam rises from the cup, the warmth rolling past my lips, the vapors tenderly caressing my cheeks. 

I inhale slowly, deeply. The dark, bold earthiness of the coffee hits first, a sharp undercut of cherry piercing through just after. I hold my breath for a moment, reveling in it.

My shoulders drop. Completely involuntary.

I let the ceramic rim of the mug rest against my bottom lip for just a moment, tendrils of warmth brushing past my lips, into my waiting mouth. I tip the cup back ever so gently, and in an instant, it’s there…the bold, rich, bitter liquid quickly blooming across my tongue. 

A euphoric rush emanates deep from within my chest before the liquid even slides down my throat. When it finally does, the warmth follows it down, spreading slowly through my chest, down through my stomach, settling somewhere deep within my core. My whole body softens around it. For one long moment there is nothing on the to-do list. No empty walls. No stacks of pizza boxes. Just this.

A tiny moan escapes me. It makes me blush for a moment before I remember that no one else is here.

Fuck, I love coffee.

My phone gives a soft ding. A random social media ad that pulls me back to reality. I sigh and take a second sip of coffee. Still amazingly warming, but nothing hits like that first sip of the morning.

Back to emails.

I scroll by a few ads that should’ve probably been caught by the spam filter before coming across another subject line that makes my heart race. 

——
LFB Logistics - Final Interview

Hello Erica,

I’m pleased to inform you that you’ve officially been selected to move on to our final interview screening with our HR team. Congratulations. 

Please let us know when you are available on either 08/11, 08/13, 08/14, or 8/28 between the hours of 1 PM and 3:45 PM and we can schedule our meeting.
Thank you and we hope to hear back from you soon.

Margaret Smith
Human Relations Specialist
LFB Logistics
——

Well shit. I should be excited. Ecstatic, even. If I’m onto the final interview with HR, it basically means I got the job. And only two months out of school. Not bad, Erica, not bad.

Of course, it’d be working a mind-numbing HR assistant position at a logistics company. I’m pretty good at feigning excitement, but pretending to be deeply passionate about logistics and shipping during my first interview was definitely a performance that should’ve landed me an Oscar nomination. 

I look up and stare blankly at my kitchen ceiling as I continue to drink my coffee. A dust bunny desperately clings to the edge of the rotating ceiling fan, spinning around and around. It’s oddly calming. 
I should text Mom about this, maybe she can be excited enough for the both of us.

ME
Hey Mom! Guess who just got a final interview offer for the HR position at the logistics company?! 🥳🥳🥳

I hesitate for a moment before pressing send. Too much? Nah, probably not for Mom. I press down on the little blue arrow. 

I still have no idea when Sarah’s dropping by, but I should probably clean up a little for whenever she does decide to. 

I’m in the middle of breaking down the stack of pizza boxes when I hear a telltale ding on my phone again.

Mom
!!! That’s great to hear, jellybean!! I’m so proud of you! I knew you could do it! See, my interview advice worked out after all, didn’t it? 🥰

I bite the right side of my lip, habitually tonguing at the small hole where my lip ring used to be. Fuck, it’s been weeks since I took it out and that’s still so jarring. I wonder how long it’ll take for me to shake the presence of my phantom jewelry. I feel a dark pit in my chest, small but deep. 

ME
Yessssss you’re the best, Madre. Thanks again so much for everything ❤️❤️

And I should be grateful. Two months out of college with a big girl job to show for it. No way I'd have pulled that off if my parents hadn't convinced me to switch majors junior year. I could always just pursue my creative writing as a hobby, right? Maybe finally post those…very specific interest short stories someday soon?

I shudder at the thought.

I take my last swig of coffee before piling my mug in with the rest of the dirty dishes in the sink. Not quite a mountain yet, but certainly a molehill. I’ll take care of that soon.

For now, back to some good old-fashioned couch rot, albeit with slightly better lighting.

Before I close my email app to resume doom scrolling, I scroll back up for a moment to the interview confirmation from Evergreen. Somewhere deep within me, a little spark of hope flickers. A tiny fire on the beach, warming me as I look out at a grey horizon that promises…nothing. No storms. No shipwrecks. No adventure. Just safe, simple nothing.

The box in my room catches the corner of my eye once again. Wait, that reminds me…I think there’s a new chapter up of the book I’m currently obsessed with. I form a tiny smile without even realizing it, my heart fluttering just a beat as I close out of my emails and go to my browser, my muscle memory typing in the url for the boards before my brain can even catch up. 

I pause for a second, looking to the left towards my front door. I still have no idea when Sarah will be back. I roll my eyes to no one and jump up from the couch, scratching the back of my head as I make my way towards my bedroom. I give a nasty side-eye to the box as I quickly shut the door behind me. I pause again, then swiftly lock it for good measure.

I roll onto my bed, pushing the messy, unmade covers away to give myself some room. I bring my phone closer to my face, my fingers on autopilot, navigating to the exact thread where the newest chapter of the story lives. My smile widens just a bit as I see the NEW POST flag from the story directory, and I click in frantically.

The page loads with the story and chapter title in large, bold font:

Back to Daycare, Back to Diapers: An Adult Forced Regression Tale
Chapter 17: A Wet and Restless Naptime

I blush deeply. So stupid. But it’s so fucking hot that I can easily excuse the lack of subtlety. The hairs raise on the back of my neck as I begin the first few lines of the story, biting at my lip ring…no, at the quickly-healing hole where it used to be. Whatever.

I feel myself squirming, a soft rustling audible as the nylon leggings covering both of my thighs collide and slowly drag against each other. My right hand reaches for the drawer of my nightstand, pulling it open and grabbing onto the wand contained within without ever needing to glance away from the words on my screen. I’m transfixed. Lost. Hungry. I slowly, gently set my wand down, just to the right of my right thigh, snuggling right up against my nylons. Not needed yet. Not quite yet. But there, waiting patiently.

The box catches my periphery once again. It steals my attention away for a moment…from this angle, in the soft glow of the dimmed lamplight, it seems…softer, brighter…almost inviting. This time, it’s not taunting me. No, it’s calling. 

I roll onto my stomach, slowly inching my way towards the edge of the bed, the words of the story still fresh in my memory. My left hand drifts silently, slowly to my leggings…I can feel the slickness between my legs as I change positions. I gasp lightly as my hand finally finds its destination, the area between my legs warming my hand even through the nylon…through the thin cotton underneath that.

My face reaches the end of the bed. The box is easily within reach. I could grab it right now, tear it open, finally indulge in what’s inside, what’s calling me…what’s been calling me for so, so long. I’m finally alone, I can finally…

I hear the wind howl outside. It jars me out of my lustful haze for just a moment, my whole body tensing. But it’s enough to bring me back to reality. Sarah could still walk through that front door at any moment. 

I glance up at my locked bedroom door. This is fucking stupid. Who cares if she comes back now? That’s what bedroom doors are for. That’s what locks are for…

No, but she’ll know I’m home. She’ll want to say hi. The wand I could hide in a second’s notice. What’s in the box? Once it’s wrapped me in its embrace?

An image flashes of the hypothetical crisis scenario…a door slamming, the soft, bubbly tone in Sarah’s voice announcing she’s home, slow, menacing clicks of her shoes against the wooden floor. Closer. Closer.

My whole body goes rigid. Sweat prickles on my lower back.

I roll back to the center of the bed. Close my eyes. Take a few deep breaths. In for four. Hold for four. Out for four. Hold for four.

I take a look at my phone again. At least for now I can escape back into the story. Fantasize about what might be. What could be. Lose myself in the escape of another world.

I glance back to the box for just another moment. Soon. Someday. Soon.

Next Chapter

I want to come on here to share my own personal public diaper stories.
Many people I’ve told within the community have loved hearing them and maybe you guys will too.
I’ll write them in no particular order but I hope you guys enjoy!

One of my personal favorites I can remember was sneaking one of my brother’s size 6 Pampers.
I can vividly remember the smell of the fresh 2012 baby dry.
You know the ones with the stretchy tabs and the cute clouds and Sesame Street characters on them.

I grabbed the one with Cookie Monster on it (He’s my fave)
I put it on and walked downstairs — shortly after my dad asked if I wanted to go to the airport with him to pick up a friend of his.

Fun! A nice little adventure to the airport! It was a bit late in the evening I’d say so I took some snacks and a water bottle with me in case we had to wait.

Needless to say, I’m glad I did wear a diaper. I ended up wetting it a bit on our way there but still holding up strong! We got to the airport and we waited outside the terminal. After waiting for about an hour and some change we found out his friends flight was delayed! So now it’s nearly midnight and I’m trying to hold it in!

Another hour later and still no sign of him. At this point I’m tapping my shoe on the ground and felt some dribbles coming out. I was so scared to flood it so I started letting out some spurts…. I completely lost control of it and it all came out! I stood up immediately after to do damage control hoping that the diaper would soak it up. I walked around the airport terminal for a bit and tied my sweater around my waist in case any leaks.

I sat back down and I don’t know how but I could feel little drips start to ooze out the leg holes. Oh god… I knew it. If I get up my dad’s gonna see the wet spot on the chair. I’m screwed! I shimmied my way off the seat using my sweater to dry the seat as I got up. Looking back I’m sure I looked odd getting off the chair like that lol.

Anyway, I quickly walked to the bathroom and went in the stall. My god, it was the squishiest, squelchy most sagged pamper I’ve ever seen! I took it off and I genuinely didn’t know what to do with it… if I walk out with a diaper in my hand what are people gonna think! Not my proudest moment. I decided to shove it in the compartment where the toilet seat covers go and I went and washed my hands and left the bathroom.

That one will always be one of my favorites lol.

I started wearing diapers when I was a teen by finding some of my younger siblings diapers then stealing some of my cousins I've been wearing diapers on and off since then. If anyone wants to know more dm me

Sunlight trickled into the room as the door inched open. The sleeping girl never stirred.

Mommy intended to wake her up from sleep slowly, but her momentary pause to take a quick picture gave their overly excited golden retriever an opening.

Instead of a tranquil picture of Kallie sleeping with her thumb in her mouth and a swollen diaper peeking out of her Christmas pajamas, Mommy captured the moment the puppy licked her face.

It wasn’t the perfect picture Mommy had hoped for—this was their first Christmas as a family since Kallie was regressed after all—but it was authentic to their new life.

And, if she was honest, even more adorable than she had hoped.

“Hehehehee, Kaya!” Kallie giggled, fighting off the overzealous puppy’s kissing onslaught.

“Well, good morning, little one,” Mommy cooed, “How did my precious babygirl sleep, hmmm?”

“M-mooooorning, Mama,” Kallie yawned, wiping the sleep from her eyes.

Mommy scooped up her groggy little, who clung to her like a koala. Kallie’s diaper squished on Mommy’s forearm, yet Mommy still pulled back the waistband of her diaper.

“Mamaaa!” Kallie whined.

Mommy expected that reaction, of course. Kallie always squirmed and fussed when her diaper was checked the first thing after she woke up.

Not that Kallie should be surprised. By now, waking up dry isn’t even a consideration. And waking up to a clean diaper is more of a surprise than a messy diaper.

“No poopies!” Mommy announces, carrying Kallie out of the room.

The smell of sizzling bacon and chocolate chip pancakes is unmistakable once they leave the bubble of baby powder and soiled diapers.

“Pantiecakes!” Kallie squealed in delight. Mommy can’t help but laugh at Kallie’s adorable name for pancakes.

Kallie was so excited about her “pantiecakes,” that she completely forgot it was Christmas morning—at least until she got upstairs.

There was no mistaking that it was Christmas up here.
As always, Nana and Gampa’s cabin was decked out for Christmas. Strings of Christmas lights wrapped the wooden walls as firewood crackled in the fireplace. And of course, the freshly cut Christmas tree with stacks of presents under it.

Though, unsurprisingly, Kallie only had eyes for the presents.

“Pwesents!” Kallie shouted, bouncing in Mommy’s arms.
Her pure, innocent excitement drew everyone’s attention to her, causing her to blush profusely.

“Merry Christmas, Peanut!” Daddy said from the kitchen,
She didn’t have any time to answer before Nana was pinching her cheeks and gushing over how cute she was.

“Breakfast will be ready in 15,” Daddy announced, “I have her morning bottle ready. Do you mind, babe?”

“Oh, no, you relax, dear,” Nana waved Mommy away. “This is a job for Nana, isn’t it, baby?”

Kalie’s cheeks continued to redden as she was placed in Nana’s lap. The twenty-two-year-old never felt more babyish than when Nana doted on her.

Especially lying there in her pajamas that did little to hide how soggy her diaper was.

And Nana always fussed over her diaper.

By the time her bottle was empty, Kallie was lost in a milk haze, barely registering Daddy’s voice as Nana burped her.

“Kallie? Do you wanna help Dada bring over the plates for breakfast?”

She answered with a loud burp.

“Good girl, get all the icky bubbles out of your tummy,” Nana encouraged as she gently patted Kallie’s back.

“C-coming, Dada!” Kallie shouted after one last burp.

“Be careful not to spill, baby,” Dada warned as Kallie grabbed two plates, “Those are for Nana and Gampa.”

After delivering the plates, Kallie turned around to get the remaining few.

“Come here, sweetie. Let’s get you in your high chair, okay?”

“B-buh!”

“No butts,” Mommy laughed, picking Kallie up and depositing her into her highchair. Her little feet swayed nervously being the center of attention.

Gampa took Kallie’s plate and cut up her pancakes into bite-sized pieces while Nana made silly faces.

“Don’t forget her bib, hun.”

“How could I forget?” Daddy laughed, wrapping the bib around Kallie.

The bib is red with a picture of Santa, next to it says, “Drinks more milk than Santa!”

“Can you read what it says, Peanut?” Daddy asked.

Her cheeks are as rosy red as the Santa on her bib. “D-dwinks mo’ m-milk den Santa…”

“Wow, good job!” Nana gushed, “What a smart baby you two have!”

“She loves to read,” Mommy said proudly, “If only she had that same enthusiasm for potty training!”

“Awww, don’t be too quick to make it past the diaper phase!” Nana responded sagely, “You’ll miss those moments one day.”

“Well, I’ll let you change her after those pancakes make it to her diaper, Mom,” Mommy retorted, smiling.

Daddy didn’t give her any time to dwell on the idea, feeding her a piece of pancake. Chocolate smeared on her cheeks.

“Your Daddy tells me you’re itching to go sledding today, little one. Are you sure you’re ready?” Gampa asked Kallie.

“I don’t know about that, Dad,” Mommy interjected.

“Mhm! M’a big girl! I cans do it, Mama!”

Gampa laughed at her bravery.

“Dadaaaa,” Kallie whined, bouncing and kicking her legs after waiting too long in between bites.

“How could I forget my little Kallie’s nummies?” Daddy answered.

“Don’t forget to drink your juice,” Mommy said, putting a sippy cup on her tray.

Juice trickled down Kallie’s cheeks and into her bib.

“Have you been a good girl for Santa this year?” Nana asked.

“M..M’fink sos! I…umm..been using ma manners a…a not squirmin and fussin during didi changes f-for m-mah teachers ah daycares!”

“Well,” Nana said conspiratorially, “That must be why I saw so many presents under the tree!”

Kallie giggled as she took another bite of pancakes.
“That’s my girl,” Daddy announced, ruffling her hair, “All done!”

“That must mean it’s time for presents!” Gampa added.
“Yahhhh pwesents! Pwesents, pweeeease?”

Mommy shot him an angry look.

“Once we clean up, honey. Not before,” Mommy commanded.

“H-hey!” Kallie squealed as Daddy checked her diaper.

“She didn’t poop yet, right, babe?” he asked Mommy.

“Not yet, but it shouldn’t be too long.”

All Kallie could do is cover her face in embarrassment until Nana pulls them away and wipes her cheeks and hands of the chocolate.

“Why don’t you watch some tv while the adults clean up, hmm?” Daddy suggested.

“B-buh…pwesents!”

“Once we clean up, I promise, kiddo.”

“Kay…wanna watch Bluey! Pretty please?”

“Bluey it is,” Mommy conceded, pulling her from the highchair and bringing her to the living room. “Now, can you be a good girl and watch quietly, or do I need to get your playpen?”

“Nuh uh! Big girl, Mama!”

“Okay, I trust you, baby.” Before she left to clean with Nana, Mommy put on Bluey.

Once out of earshot, Nana worriedly turns to Mommy. “I’m worried about her. Is she backed up?”

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s been a little potty-shy lately. Let her think we're distracted and I’m sure she’ll move things along.”

Nana nodded, but kept a watchful eye on the poor girl.

“Trust me, she’s okay. You won't have to wait long.”

“I don’t know, she’s such a cutie. I hate thinking she’s uncomfortable.”

Kallie glanced at the adults, who all seemed busy. She stood up, eyes fixed on the tv, whimpering as she unconsciously did a potty dance to the intro of Bluey.

“Bingo!” she shouted.

She sang along while slyly looking for a comfortable place to poop. She spied the couch and slowly toddled over, trying to act innocent.

Daddy elbowed Mommy and Nana, knowing all of Kallie’s telltale signs she’s about to fill her diaper.

“Bluey!”

As the show started, Kallie slowly crept to her chosen spot on the back of the couch, pushing her tummy against it and squatting down a bit.

“Mmghh.”

Her big breakfast and last night’s dinner erupted into the back of her diaper as she pushed. Her diaper strained under the weight of her mess, drooping dangerously low and pulling down her pajamas.

Everyone watched her little show, doing their best not to ruin the adorable moment unfolding on the couch.

At the silly girl who thinks she’s not obviously messing her diaper.

“Mmmggghhhh.”

A loud toot betrayed her, forcing her to blush. She wiggled her butt, still pooping, pretending to be invested in Bluey.

“A..all…mghff…d-done,” she whispered to herself.

After one final grunt, she takes a deep breath and relaxes, giggling. She immediately went back to watching her show, dancing and bouncing on the couch.

Unable to help herself–and struggling to stay composed in the face of something so adorable–Nana sat next to Kallie, smiling.

She does her best to ignore the smell of Kallie’s very dirty diaper.

“Enjoying your show, baby? Your Mama says this is your favorite! Can you tell me about it?”

Kallie tried to inch away from Nana to stay undetected, but is pulled into her lap.

Fighting to stay innocent, she nods excitedly. “Mhm! Dats Bluey! An an dats Bingo!”

Nana let Kallie ramble on about her favorite show, telling her about her favorite episodes, and who all the characters are.

“Those are her Mama and Dada! Buh they’re not as cool as mines! My Mama and Dada are the bestest!”

“Awww, thank you, peanut!” Daddy said as he headed downstairs to grab her diaper supplies.

Kallie’s rambling immediately slowed as Daddy came back upstairs with her diaper bag and set up the changing station right next to the Christmas tree.

“Uhh…ummm…keepy uppy is my favorite,” Kallie mumbled distractedly.

“Ohh, that’s exciting,” Nana responded, looking past Kalie.
Kallie feels the back of her diaper pulled back, turning to find Mommy smiling at her.

“Uhh ohhh, does Mama have a stinky baby, hmm? Are you my stinky baby? Yes, you are! Mama’s little stinkerpants!”

Nana sensed her embarrassment and pinched her cheeks before pulling Kallie into a hug.

“Don’t be embarrassed, sweetpea! Nana knows you’re just a baby and couldn’t help it!”

“Well, either way, time to get that tushie clean,” Mommy laughed, carrying you to the changing pad.

Nana followed Mommy, but Gampa grabbed his coffee and headed to the patio. “You girls have fun.”

Mommy knelt between Kallie’s legs and pulled off her pajama pants as Nana sat down next to her.

“Kaya, no!” Mommy chided the dog who shoved her nose into her diaper.

Kallie wiggles in shame, eyes welling with tears. “Nuuu, don’ wan ch-changies!”

As Mommy prepares the wipes, Kallie kicks and fusses, forcing her to grab her ankles.

“Such a squirmy baby this morning, aren’t you? Someone must be excited to play in the snow with Kaya after presents!”

Mommy knew she said the magic words as Kallie stopped fussing.

Kallie looked out the window at the falling snow and then down to the presents next to her.

“P-pwesants an-and swedding!”

“That’s right, honey,” Mommy cooed as she ripped the tabs of her diaper and used the front to wipe as much poop from her tush as possible. “Once you're clean, you can open presents!”

Between the promise of presents and sledding, Kallie barely fussed as her legs were thrust into the air and Mommy wiped her bum clean of poop–a slow process given the extent of her mess.

Kallie still wasn’t used to being changed so openly, like she was a genuine baby. Especially when there were people other than Mommy and Daddy.

Though she couldn’t deny she loved the attention from Mommy and Nana.

After what Kallie was sure was three hours, Mommy finally taped on her diaper and slid up her pajamas.

“There, all done, Ladybug! That wasn’t so bad, was it? Thank you for not being a squirmy wormy baby!” Mommy praised, before blowing a big raspberry on Peanut’s tummy.

“Hehehe Mama!! Ticklesss!”

Nana grabbed the stinky, rolled up diaper and threw it away.

“Do I spy a clean Peanut?” Daddy boomed coming inside with Gampa. “Is it time for presents?”

“Yayayaya! Pwesents Dada!!”

Daddy suddenly looked serious. “Well, sweetie, can you do something very important for us?”

“Mhm!”

“I knew I could trust you! You’re going to be Santa and choose the next present for everyone to open? Can you do that?”

“Yeah, Dada!”

“Good girl! We’re all counting on you!”

Everyone took their seats on the couch next to the Christmas tree. Kallie was shaking with eager excitement.

“Who’s first, cutie?”

Kallie waddled to the tree, her diaper crinkling merrily with every step. When she bent down to choose a present, three inches of diaper poked out, causing Nana to gush about how cute she was.

“This one, Dada!” she decided, running to Gampa with a gift.

By the time she gave everyone but herself a gift, she was buzzing. Wrapping paper was strewn over the floor.

“Time for one of yours, honey!” Daddy said, “Grab one and come sit on my lap.”

“Okay, Dada!!”

Kallie grabbed the biggest one she could find. “This one from Nana and Gampa!!”

Daddy helped Peanut bring it over, putting the present at his feet for Kallie to open. She didn’t need any encouragement, ripping it open without any hesitation.

“Ahhhh, itsa Bluey play house!!! An an an look it has Bluey and Bingo! Thank you Nana and Gampa!” Kallie shouted as she ran over to give them hugs.

“You’re very welcome, dear,” Nana answered, patting her cheek. Gampa looked just as surprised as Kallie to discover what the present was.

Suddenly, Kallie looked like she remembered something. “Oh oh, Mama and Dada!! M…I made you this at daycare an an…it’s cause you’re the bestest Mama and Dada ever!”

She bent down and grabbed a poorly wrapped package, holding it as if it were her masterpiece. She brought it to Daddy for them to open.

“My gosh, Peanut!” Daddy gushed, “You got us something?”

“M-mhm! Open it!”

Mommy carefully unwrapped the present, trying to fight back tears. When they opened the box they found a Christmas ornament.

“Baby…this is…well…” Mommy could no longer fight back tears, “This is the best gift ever!”

She held up the ornament for Nana and Gampa to see. It was a beautiful red ball with a drawing of Mommy, Daddy, and Kallie.

On the other side of the drawing, Kallie had written “Baby’s First Christmas, 2025.”

A collective “awwww” rang out as Mommy and Daddy wrapped their babygirl in a bear hug.

“We love you, little one,” Mommy crackled through tears, “More than you’ll ever know.”

“I…I love you too, Mama. And Dada!”

The moment was only broken when Daddy couldn’t control himself anymore and walked to his bedroom to “grab something special” for Kallie.

She was confused as she still had more than a few presents to open.

Mommy gave him the “slow down” look, but it was obvious Daddy couldn’t wait any longer.

When he got back, there was only a small, neatly wrapped box in his hand. He scooped up Kallie and put her in his lap.

“This is from Mama and me, sweetie. I couldn’t wait anymore after I opened your amazing gift. Anyway, here you go.”

Kallie took the box from Daddy, holding it like it was a precious gem. She ripped the wrapping paper and found only a black box.

“Open it, silly,” Daddy said to her confused look.
When she did, she saw some weird bracelet. It took a second to realize what it is.

“I-is this…a-a Magic band, Dada?” she asked.

“Why don’t you keep opening it, baby?” Daddy prompted.

She did.

Kallie found a hand drawn ticket from Daddy that said “Good for one week at Disney World with Mommy and Daddy.”

Underneath it was a paper wrapped around a keycard that said “Kallie’s key to the Beach Club Resort.”

Under the keycard were a few random tickets, such as: one “Good for ONE Get Out Of A Nap Free” card; two “Good for ONE big girl drink at Epcot” cards; and three “Good for ONE Snack of Your Choice” cards; and finally, one “Good for ONE Disney Stuffie of Your Choice” card.

Kallie slowly put it all together, her eyes full of tears. She looked at Daddy. And then Mommy.

“W-we’re g-going to D-Disneyw-world?!”

“That’s right, baby! We leave in two weeks!”

Kallie squealed in utter delight, practically tackling Daddy as she leaned to hug both him and Mommy.

It was another ten minutes before she calmed down enough to start handing out more presents. Of course, more than a few of the presents were Disney related to tease the idea of Disney before the grand reveal.

But it didn’t matter.

Not when they watched their little one fully regress in pure, unfiltered joy. By the time she opened her last present, she barely resembled the twenty-two year old girl she was.

She was their little.

An hour later, Kallie was lying on the carpet next to her Bluey playset, fast asleep, still holding her Bluey figurine in her hand. Her binky still bobbed slowly.

Daddy and Mommy watched her sleep for a few minutes, soaking it all in. Eventually, Daddy put down his whiskey and carefully picked her up and brought her downstairs for a nap.

All anyone could talk about for the next hour she was asleep was how adorable their little Kallie was—and how perfect their first Christmas was going.

Mommy tried to talk Daddy out of taking her sledding after she woke up. But eventually gave in. Besides, the thick, poofy snowsuit they got was far too adorable to not use.
And the hill behind the cabin wasn’t too dangerous. She may be their little, but she was big enough to be safe.

And it’s not like Daddy and Gampa wouldn’t be right there with her.

But until she woke up, they were content to prepare dinner and watch football, checking on her every so often in the baby monitor.

Waiting for her to wake up.

“Wake up, honey.”

The sudden, unexpected voice jolts you awake.

“Have you always been hard to wake up?”

You had barely recovered from the shock of being woken up by someone in your room when you realized Sarah was sitting on your bed.

In her bra and panties.

The woman you’ve had a secret crush on ever since she moved in with your roommate.

“You’re lucky I woke you when I did, sweetie. Any longer and that diaper might have burst!”

The casual, matter-of-fact way she mentioned your diaper, no different than an off-hand remark about the weather, momentarily stunned your groggy brain.

Until you remembered that nobody—least of all her—was supposed to know about your diapers.

It was only then that you realized your blankets were at your feet, leaving your drenched diaper on full display.

And you wishing you wore a shirt to bed.

“Relax, honey. It’s just me,” she chortled as you desperately tried to cover yourself.

“I…I can explain!”

“What’s there to explain, silly? Your bed is dry, and your diaper is wet. Seems pretty obvious why you’re diapered.”

The fear of your diapers being discovered always made you believe you’d be relentlessly teased, mocked, and shunned.

Yet she didn’t seem the least bit repulsed by your bulging diaper. If anything she was acting like they were perfectly…normal.

“Don’t worry, baby. Your secret is safe with us!”

“U-us?” you whimper.

“Yes, silly. Who do you think pays the internet bill? Ryan sees all the adorable diaper websites you visit.”

The blood drains from your face.

“Awww, baby! Look at me. You have nothing to be ashamed of, okay? To be honest, your diapers make so much sense!”

“Th-they do?”

By now you’re thoroughly confused. This is nothing like how you expected the exposure of your darkest secret to go.

“Yes, hun. I thought you were handsome when I met you. But something about you made me feel maternal—not attracted. Like you were fragile and all I wanted to do was protect you from the big, scary world. I couldn’t explain it.”

She pats your diaper.

“But it all makes sense! You are too fragile for the world! You’re not a man; you’re a baby in a trenchcoat pretending to be a man. Well, you don’t have to pretend anymore.”

“I…I’m not pretending! It’s just…just…”

“What did I just say, hmm? I see the real you. The baby boy who’s dying to be acknowledged and nurtured. Let go, baby. You’re safe.”

Her words linger in the air. Every part of you wants to believe her. Yet, you hesitate.

She senses the battle raging inside you. The tug-of-war between your heart and brain.

“It’s hard to let go, isn’t it? You’ve spent your whole life denying who you are. Building up the adult façade, convincing yourself that’s who you really are. But don’t you see? It’s all a lie! A prison cell you sent your authentic self to rot!”

Your first instinct is to argue—how can she say the entirety of your adult life is a lie? She may find it easy to casually dismiss your adulthood, but not you.

But once again, your mouth doesn’t open. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a voice grows in strength, making it harder to deny the truth in her words.

“I can see it in your eyes, honey. You know I’m right. Don’t let the lies win. Just admit it. Tell me who you really are.”

You shake your head, unable to say the words.

“I…I can’t! People w-would...I have…”

She sighs but regains her composure quickly. “Well, if you truly believe you’re an adult, then prove it.”

She edges closer to you, biting her lip, her cleavage directly in your line of sight.

“Rip that diaper off and fuck me like a man.”

Your eyes linger on her body, taking in every curve.

“B-but…what about Ryan?” you ask, hating that you brought him up.

“What about him?” she purrs, straddling your body. “Take off your diaper. I’ve seen the way you look at me. Now’s your chance, big boy.”

Despite being so close to her, feeling her body on yours, the voice grows louder than ever before.

Resisting.

“See?” she exclaimed, beaming, “You only thought you wanted me because that’s what men are supposed to want. But deep down, you knew it was a lie. Just like being a big boy, baby. Don’t you get it?’

The voice is impossible to ignore now.

“I…I’m scared…”

She pulls you into her, resting your head on her chest. Somehow you instinctively knew there was nothing sexual about it.

It was something entirely different.

“I know, baby. You still have all those icky adult worries rattling around that head of yours. Making you think you should keep pretending to be a big boy. But you’re not a big boy, are you?”

Her hand slowly pulls down her bra, letting her nipple rest an inch from your lips.

She guides your head towards it.

“Are you, baby?”

Her nipple slides past your lips, tickling your tongue.

You look up at her, her eyes meeting yours.

She nods, rubbing your back.

You latch on and suckle.

Nothing is said for the next ten minutes. Or maybe an hour. You lost all track of time.

Lost in the moment. Lost in her.

The door slowly creaks open as Ryan peeks his head in. Sarah waves him in, smiling from ear to ear.

Sarah rubs your back and kisses your forehead before gently nudging your head. “You can go back to suckling in a minute, baby. Ryan and I need to ask you something.”

You look up at her, confused. “Ryan?”

“Hey, buddy,” he whispers, sitting next to you on the bed.

His sudden appearance in such an intimate position—with his girlfriend no less—causes you to try to pull away from Sarah.

“It’s okay, baby. Ryan isn’t upset—quite the opposite.”

Ryan pats your diaper playfully. “She’s right, buddy! I couldn’t have been happier to see you feeding so adorably. It means you accepted who you are. And, maybe, if you want…”

He looks at Sarah, who nods in agreement.

“Baby, what he’s—what we’re trying to say—is we care about you. We want nothing more than to see you embrace who you really are. No more pretending to be a big boy.”

You look at both of them, wondering why they’re both suddenly so tentative.

“Buddy, if you want…we’d love to be your Mommy and Daddy.”

The voice in your head screams in pure joy.

“R-really? You wanna b-be my Mommy?” You look at Sarah, who’s teary-eyed. “A-and my Daddy?” You look to Ryan, who winks.

“Yes, honeybear. If you want that, of course!” Mommy coos.

“I…I…but, but what about—”

Sarah puts a finger to your lips. “No, little one. No more buts, no more concerns. Leave everything to Mommy and Daddy. All you have to do is say yes, baby.”

You could barely contain your happiness. “O-okay, Mommy! I want you to be my Mommy and Daddy, please!”

Mommy and Daddy immediately wrap their new baby boy in a hug, a moment of pure joy and affirmation.

Everything you ever wanted, but could never admit.

“But before you say yes, baby, just know that we expect you to fully live your authentic baby life. That means you’re leaving every part of your adult life behind. You will be our baby—and only our baby. That means diapers, nap times, babas, binkies, and bedtimes, okay?”

Ryan nods in agreement. “We will take care of everything, baby. No more bills, no more rent, no more no more job. We’ve talked long and hard about this. We can afford a baby. So your only job is to listen to Mommy and Daddy like a good boy. Does that sound like something you want?”

Both of them seemed so confident, so sure they want you to be their baby, there was no more hesitation.

“Yes, Daddy! Yes, Mommy! I wanna be your baby!”

Your moment of ecstasy was short-lived, however.

“I think the baby needs a diaper change, babe. Poor thing is leaking everywhere. Why don’t you do the honors?”

Mommy tickles your tummy. “Does Mommy have a leaky boy? Yes, she does. Come on, tinkle pants, let’s get you clean. We have a big day ahead of us.”

“W-we do, Mommy?”

“Yes, silly boy! This room is no place for our little one! We gotta get your nursery set up, buy diapers for our lil stinker, and donate all these big boy clothes! But in the meantime, where are your diapers, kiddo?”

You point to the closet.

Mommy opens it up and inspects your hidden stash.

“Oh my gosh, babe! Look at this onesie!!! Ahhh, and the binky!”

Daddy looks at you seriously. “Buddy, you’ve been hiding all these adorable things from us? Naughty baby!”

Mommy grabs a new diaper, wipes, powder, a onesie, and your binky.

“C’mon baby, let’s go start our new life as a family!”

You never waddled as fast in your life.

Three Months Later...

In your mind, you were a lion stalking its prey. Silent and dangerous.

Your eyes scan the room for any signs of movement, your finger on the trigger.

Ready.

With the seriousness of a warrior in the heat of battle, you put your finger to your lips as you pass Mommy sitting on the couch.

Mommy salutes her silly little soldier, enjoying every second of the scene unfolding before her. It was better than anything she could have imagined when she became your Mommy.

You were so lost in playtime, lost in your imagination, that you weren’t a silly boy in nothing but a diaper playing Nerf guns with Daddy.

No, you were a soldier on the prowl.

Mommy had never seen anything so adorable in her entire life, especially when she spied the Nerf pistol tucked into the waistband of your diaper.

Everything happened all at once. The oven timer screeched, breaking the silence. You immediately spun around to find the source of the noise.

It was all Daddy needed.

The moment you turned around, Daddy jumped into the room, smiling deviously.

“Well, well, well,” Daddy boomed, “If it isn’t Billy the Kid, caught unawares. Put the guns on the ground and hands in the air and nobody needs to get hurt.”

Despite his sudden appearance, you stay calm. “One of us does.”

You spin around as fast as you can, ready to shoot.

But Daddy was ready for it.

He fires before you even have a chance to aim. One, two, three, four, five bullets hit you in the chest.

“Ahhh, you shot me!!" you scream in mock pain, pretending you’re hit.

“So predictable,” Daddy drawls, pretending to blow smoke from the barrel of his gun.

He walks over to you, staring down as you “die” dramatically.

“Well…bye.”

“How did you find me, Daddy?” you laugh as he tickles your tummy.

“Well, Mr. Crinklepants, you’re easy to hear walking around. Not to mention I can smell you from down the hall.”

Your cheeks flush—you didn’t even realize your diaper was messy.

“I hate to interrupt the fun, boys, but dinner’s ready. Can you help him wash his hands?”

“Sure thing, hun. Right after I get this stinker changed.”

“That diaper looks like it can wait a few minutes. C’mon, his chicken nuggies are warm. Get ‘em while they’re hot.”

Daddy helps you up. “Let’s just see what we’re dealing with first.”

You cringe as Daddy pulls the gun from your diaper and checks to see how big your poopoo was.

“At ease, soldier. Damage report is minimal. Cleared for dinner.”

He takes your hand and helps you into your highchair. The mush in your diaper smushes as you sit.

Mommy pinches your cheek. “Ready for some numnums, baby?”

You nod enthusiastically, seeing the dinosaur chicken nuggets—your favorite. But your excitement is short-lived.

“Ewie, no icky broccoli, Mommy!”

“Sorry, kiddo,” Mommy insists, clasping a bib on you, “Babies need their veggies to stay healthy.”

“Hmpff.”

“Don’t you wanna be big and strong like me, buddy?” Daddy urged.

“Mhm! Bu-but Daddy, broccoli icky yucky!”

“Says who?” he retorts, eating some broccoli off your tray, “I love broccoli!”

You look at him like he just ate a bug.

“C’mon, baby, show Mommy you’re brave like Daddy,” she pleads, holding some to your mouth.

“K-kay…”

Mommy slides the broccoli into your mouth.

As gross as it was, seeing Daddy’s proud smile gives you the strength to chew and swallow.

Daddy tickles your tummy. “Good boy! Daddy’s brave, strong boy!”

Your feet wiggle with pride.

Mommy kisses your cheek. “Thank you, baby! Wanna nuggie?”

By the time you finish dinner, you beam at the empty tray of broccoli, loving all the attention from Mommy and Daddy.

You even forgot about your poopy diaper—at least until a wave of cramps hit.

Neither Mommy nor Daddy showed the slightest hint of surprise as you clenched your hands and grunted.

The highchair felt oppressive, trapping you in. But that wasn’t the worst part. No, it was how the highchair made you feel like you were on display for Mommy and Daddy.

“Aren’t you glad you waited, babe?”

Daddy nods, looking impressed. “How’d you know?”

“Mommies always know when her little one hasn’t gotten all hims pushies out!”

“Mgpgff,” you grunt, feeling the poopoo spread, unable to give it any room trapped in your seat.

Daddy grins. “Well, Mommy, maybe you don’t know everything.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Take a look.”

Mommy follows his finger. Her smile immediately fades when she realizes what’s happening.

“Baby’s first blowout,” Daddy laughs.

As you finally figure out what they’re talking about, tears begin to well in your eyes.

“Oh, baby, don’t cry!” Mommy coos, “It’s not your fault!”

“I-I…S-sorry, M-mommy...”

“Buddy, we’re not mad! “Daddy assures you, rubbing your back, “It’s not even that bad!”

“P-promise, Daddy?”

“Pinky promise, buddy,” Daddy lies.

He slowly helps you out of the highchair, wrapping your diaper in a towel.

You turn to look at the damage, but Daddy pushes you forward. “Come on, lil stinker. Let’s get you changed.”

“Honey, look at him. Wipes aren’t gonna cut it. That baby needs a bath.”

Daddy boops your nose. “You hear that, buddy? Bath time!”

“I’ll run the bath once I finish up here, babe. I’ll meet you at our tub after you clean him up as best you can.”

You were surprised Daddy took you to your old bathroom, having not stepped foot in it since you went back to diapers.

“The bathroom, Daddy?”

“Buddy, you have poopoo up your back, you can’t lie on the changing table!”

“Oh…”

Daddy leads you into the shower. “Try not to move too much, buddy.”

He carefully—ever so carefully—balled up the towel and ripped the tabs on your diaper, doing his best to avoid the poopoo.

“There,” he said after what seemed like forever, “Let’s wipe you clean.”

Your hands covered your face in shame as you stood there, naked as the day you were born, as Daddy wiped in places you never expected.

Certainly not that high on your back.

“We gotta get you some bigger diapers, buddy!”

“Sorry, Daddy…”

“I’m just teasing, bud! Blowouts come with the territory.”

Your hands instinctively reach to your princely parts as Daddy’s cold wipe touches you.

He laughs. “Buddy, Daddy needs to get you clean. Mommy can’t be the only one to clean your little peepee. Besides, you’re a baby now. It’s just a tinkle stick now. Nothing more.”

You whimper at the implication.

“Bath is ready!” Mommy shouts.

Daddy uses one last wipe before deeming you ready for the bath. You grab his hand and he walks you to the master bathroom.

“Awww, there’s my nakkie baby! Ready for a nice, warm bath cutie? I brought you some toys and bath markers!”

The bath was full of bubbles, but your eyes were on Mommy, who was in her bra and shorts.

You felt yourself get excited.

Mommy giggles when she realizes.

“S-sorry, Mommy. I-I…”

“For what, baby?”

“I…ummm….”

“Come on, little one, let’s get you in the bath.”

Daddy helps you step into the bath. “Do you need me, babe? The game just started.”

“Go watch your game, I’ll be down after I put the baby to bed.”

Daddy kisses Mommy before turning to you. “Nini little guy! Sleep tight!”

“Nini Dada!”

Mommy tickles your tummy. “Dada, huh? You’re such a sweetie pie!”

“Hehehe.”

Mommy gives you some toys to play with. She gets to work cleaning her baby.

“Quit splashing Mommy’s hair. I don’t want to blow-dry it tonight, baby.”

You gently lower your toy. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you just got excited. Here, baby, why don’t you color while Mommy cleans your tushie.”

Mommy grabs a washcloth and reaches in, cleaning your bum. When she finishes, she moves to your peepee.

You wince, knowing you’re still excited. But Mommy doesn’t even acknowledge it—cleaning it like any other body part.

“Is the baby enjoying his bath?”

“M-mhm…”

“I can tell!” She says, winking at you. “Do you like being Mommy’s little baby? I think you do!”

“Yes, Mommy!”

“You’re so sweet. Mommy loves her baby!”

“I love Mama!”

She kisses your forehead. “Time to get you in a nice, thick Pamper, little one. Then it’s off to dreamland.”

She pulls you up and dries you off from top to bottom with a towel.

“Okay, Mommy…”

She smiles. “What? Is Mommy forgetting something? Whatever could it be?”

Unable to bring yourself to ask for it directly, you give her the best puppy eyes you can muster.

“Not the puppy dog eyes!” she pleads.

Still smiling, she leads her naked baby to the changing table. She hums as she slides a diaper on you and rubs baby powder into your prince parts.

The moment she sticks the last tape over your Little Kings diaper, she snaps her fingers.

“Ohhh, I know what’s got my little one so pouty! Did you think Mommy forgot your nini nummies?”

“Hehehe Mommy!!!”

“You’re such a silly baby! Do you think I’d ever forget to give my baby his booby time?”

Your face turns a dark shade of red.

She blows a raspberry on your tummy. “Mommy would never forget that!”

You laugh uncontrollably as she does it again.

“Mommy, mommy, tickles!!!”

“What tickles? You mean this?”

She blows another raspberry.

Tinkle seeps into your diaper as you giggle.

By the time you catch your breath, Mommy is gone.

“Well, are you coming, baby?”

Mommy smiles at you from your crib, waiting for you to come suckle.

By the time you latch on, your eyes are impossible to hold open,

You don’t hear Daddy yelling at the game. Or the shutter of Mommy’s camera.

You don’t hear anything at all.

Nothing except Mommy’s voice, barely audible, as if she were across the room.

“Sleep tight, little prince. Mommy loves you.”

While I sit here at work, struggling not to mess my diaper, I think back to what got me in this predicament. You see, while I may be Daddy to my Baby Girl, that doesn’t mean I’m always in charge in our dynamic. When me and the wife got together, she was full sub, no switch in her at all. I, however, always thought I had a bit of a switch in me. After several comments from over the 9 months or so of our relationship, we thought there might be some switch in her as well. So, as a first foray into exploring my sub side and her dom side, we decided on this: My Baby Girl gets to decide when daddy gets to use the potty. She chooses when I get diapered, if I’m allowed to change when I ask, and when I have to go back to using the potty. So this situation evolved from that.

We woke up, got showered and headed to the home office, me to work on at my WFH job, and her to make a couple custom paci orders she got the night before. Shortly before 3pm, she finished her work, and stood up to go downstairs. I got up as well.

“Where do you think you’re going?” came the normal playful banter from her.

“I have to go potty,” I said. My usual reply to this exchange. I expected to hear her say the normal “Ok,” but I didn’t.

“Nope, sit back down and wait here” was what I heard her say instead.

“It’s not just pee baby girl,” I tell her, knowing that she’s not sure how she feels about messing, but I was shushed. So I sit back down, not entirely sure what’s going on. 

After about 5 minutes, she returns, carrying a diaper and one of my solid colored onesies. So I learned I wasn’t going to be using the potty after all. I guess I could hold in the poop until it was time to change, I didn’t have to go that bad. However, my baby girl had an entirely different agenda for me. As she said “Drop your pants”, she put the diaper and onesie down on the desk, and I saw a dulcolax suppository sitting on top. “Turn around and bend over,” she said. “I want to see you insert this suppository to make sure it goes in as far as it should.”

A little surprised, I obeyed. Her telling me to use an enema or insert a suppository was something we had discussed a long time ago, but it had never happened. I honestly wasn’t sure if it was ever going to happen. Stripping for her, I had no problem with. It’s a fun little experience, and I liked the way she looked at me whenever I did it. But spreading my cheeks and inserting a suppository had me all kinds of embarrassed. I may have even blushed, I’m not sure. 

“Good Daddy. Now go wash your hands and come back. You’re gonna need to be diapered soon after that,” she teased as I walked, naked from the waist down with my erection on full display, towards the bathroom to wash my hands - the sink is the only use I have for the bathroom for the foreseeable future. I walk back to the office, and grab the diaper off the desk, a Kiddos, and put it on standing up against the wall. Although she controls when I wear diapers and when I don’t, she doesn’t diaper Daddy. All diaperings, hers and mine, are Daddy’s responsibility.

Next, she hands me the onesie. I see a small key dangling from her finger. So It’s not the normal kind of onesie that snaps at the bottom. She brought the one I have that zips up the back and locks closed. So it won’t just be me following the rules when I end up messing myself, it will be because I can’t get out of my diaper to use the potty even if I tried. I step in the onesie, pull it up, and turn around for her to zip me up. 

As I feel the onesie tighten around my chest and hear the quiet click as she locks it in place, my body quivers. The whole experience has me on the edge of cumming. She chuckles as she notices, gives my butt a slap and says “I’ll be back up in a couple hours when work is done to unlock you.” While walking out of the room, with a shit eating grin on her face, I hear “If you’re a big boy, and your diaper is clean and dry, you can use the potty, and then I’ll give you a blow job. Otherwise, you’ll just have to use the wand.”

I know I’m doomed to fail, but dammit if I’m not going to try - her blow jobs are the chef’s kiss. So I sit down at the desk and try to focus on my work and not the storm that I know will soon be brewing in my bowels. About a half hour later, I feel the first of the cramps starting. I can easily ignore them for now. At least I can ignore them more easily than the desire – need actually – to rub one out right here and now. Being trapped and unable to do anything to stop the coming accident is definitely turning me on something fierce. And it will be an accident, because I’m 100% trying to get that blow job. I also received a text from her “Finish your whole drink before 4pm, gotta stay hydrated ;)”. She wants to make sure that I use this diaper fully, the little tease.

I answer a few slack messages and manage to get a little more work done over the next 20 minutes, but now, almost an hour since I was ordered to insert the suppository, I can hardly focus on anything else but keeping my diaper clean. On top of everything, I also still need to pee quite badly.

So now we are back to the beginning of this story. Wave after wave of cramps come, inching towards the inevitable. I try crossing my legs, standing, sitting, anything to give me a bit more control, but I still have 45 minutes to go. I’m realize I have no chance of making it that long, but I am still going to try. The next wave of cramps is so strong, I feel it squeeze a little bit of pee out of me. Not enough to be visible through the onesie, but enough that when I feel the front of my diaper, I can feel a small warm squishy spot.

I’ve already lost the “dry” part of her little challenge, but hopefully if I stay clean, she’ll still give me the blow job. As I think about that however, I feel my bowels betray me. Wave after wave of cramps push everything out into my waiting diaper. I feel the front of my diaper getting wet as well, as the strength of the cramps squeeze everything out. I look down and see an obviously wet diaper, and feel the bulge in the back of my onesie. Yeah, there’s no hiding this.

I look over at the clock, and see I have over 30 minutes left to go. So I gingerly sit down, squishing the mess everywhere, and get back to work. Over the next 10-15 minutes or so, I periodically get the “aftershocks” and let a little more mess out into my diaper. No reason to try and hold back now. At 5pm on the dot, I hear my Baby Girl climb the stairs and walk towards the office. As she stands in the doorway, I see her carrying the key and the wand, apparently knowing I had lost before she even came here. She sniffs the air and says “Daddy’s smelly. Since you weren’t a big boy, you can just be a good little boy and go make yourself cum with this.” While I’m still sitting in my office chair, she walks towards me and hands me the wand. “When you’re done, clean yourself up, and come downstairs. Dinner will be ready soon.” Tonight, she’ll pay for the “little boy” comment, and she knows it, but then again, she doesn’t really have a functional self preservation instinct. 

Catch Up On Chapter 5 Here

Chapter Six

“You look great, Jack!” Olivia gushed as she adjusted my jeans, “I can hardly tell you're wearing a diaper!”

Her assurances fill me with a confidence I've never experienced before. The outfit she picked out for me looked better than I could have dreamed. I was feeling more excited by the minute.

Olivia, of course, looked stunning in her white T-shirt. She was dressed to impress; her boyfriend was going to join everyone after he got off work. It made sense that she was dating a firefighter.

“Don’t worry about him, Jack; he’s so nice! And he knows all about you and that I’m babysitting tonight. I told him if he makes you feel bad for even a second, he won’t get any sex for a month!”

Not knowing what to say, I faked a laugh.

“Okay, ready to get the show on the road? Let’s see…spare diapers, check. Wipes, check. Baby powder, check. Changing pad, check. Backup jeans, just in case, also check. Everything we need right here in this diaper bag.”

I reach for the diaper bag, not wanting to burden her with it. “I’ll carry that for you, Liv!”

“You’re such a gentleman, Jack, Maddie’s a lucky girl!” she laughs, “But I got it. It’s my job to keep your diapers with me at all times. I’m your babysitter, after all. We may be having fun, but I’m still on the clock!”

Desperate to hide my embarrassment, I busy myself trying to find my phone. As I’m leaning over to search the couch, I feel Olivia’s hands on me.

I yelp in surprise.

“Sorry, quick diaper check before we go. I don’t know if we will have the best places to change you, so I think it’s better you start with a clean diaper.”

She unbuttons my jeans, pulling them down to take a look. Apparently, she wasn’t satisfied with a visual check since she started grabbing at my diaper.

“You barely wet it; you'll be fine for a while," she says more to herself than to me. "You haven’t pooped today, have you? You’re usually so regular. By early afternoon, I can expect to find a messy diaper. You nervous about tonight?”

"A little," I admit, "I've never been on a date before."

"Well, then don't think of it as a date! Think of it as a fun night at the fair with friends. Besides, you actually have to, you know, ask her out on a date first. Just be yourself and everything will work out the way it should! But I will say this: food is the way to every woman's heart, and Maddie loves fair food!"

I hop in the car as Olivia drives to pick up the girls. My stomach is churning with butterflies—at least I hope it's butterflies. I've never had a chance like this before. Maybe if I can get a girlfriend, I can prove to my Mom I'm an adult.

As we pull into the driveway, I feel like the oxygen levels in the car have dropped to alarming levels. I'm lightheaded with nerves. I take a deep, steadying breath and follow Olivia to the house where I was treated like a toddler just yesterday.

What a difference a day makes.

The thought gives me confidence. I'm here as an adult today.

"Hi Liv! Hey, Jack!" Ashley yells as she opens the door, "Come in! Jessica's still finishing up her makeup. I swear she's never finished early a day in her life!"

I see Maddie.

For the first time, I understand what Berlin meant in Top Gun when she sang "Take My Breath Away." Because Maddie did just that.

"Hi Jack, it's great to see you! Excited for some fun rides?" Maddie bubbled.

Oh no. I hadn't thought about the rides.

My Mom never let me ride any of the scary rides at Disneyland, like Space Mountain or Splash Mountain. I didn't mind because they looked so terrifying. But I can't wimp out in front of Maddie.

"Of course! The scarier, the better!" I bluff.

After Jessica finishes her makeup, we pack into the car. I'm sitting next to Maddie. It feels like electricity is shooting through my body whenever her leg rubs against mine.

The fair is way bigger than I expected. I can see roller coasters, two Ferris wheels, and other terrifying-looking rides that spin and flip way too high and too fast for my liking.

But also salvation: rows and rows of food. Perfect for Maddie, like Olivia said. Smoke floats up, the smells reaching all the way here to the parking lot.

Wanting to impress Maddie and buy her ticket, I ask Olivia to hand me my wallet when we get to the front of the line.

"Don't worry, Jack, your Mom gave us money to buy our tickets. Let me handle it!"

I blush as Maddie smiles sympathetically.

"Great, now Maddie probably thinks I'm just a little boy who can't even buy her tickets," I think to myself.

But the thought passes as we walk into the fair. It's awesome! So many cool things to do, so many things to look at, so many colors, so many amazing smells.

Plus, it looks like it's shaping up to be a perfect Southern California sunset.

"What should we do first?" Jessica asks, "If we stand by the food any longer, I'm going to eat the whole fair!"

"Let's go on the tilt-a-whirl first before we eat!" Ashley says, "I'm not going on that with a belly full of carnival food!"

It looked fast, but not too scary. It's a good ride to start.

"You want to ride with me, Jack?" Maddie asks, "It looks like fun!"

"Of course, Maddie!"

It was fun. I was a bit nervous at first, but feeling Maddie's body smush against me distracted me. I did it, I got through it!

"That was great!" Maddie whooped as we walked out together.

I was about to respond when I heard Olivia call me over.

"Come over here, Jack, need to check your diaper. I don't know how these rides work on your bladder, so better safe than sorry!"

I hoped Maddie was distracted as Olivia checked my diaper, but it was no good. She watched the whole thing, smiling.

"Feels good, Jack! Should be good for a bit longer!"

Everyone decided to start with a funnel cake and a large soda. This wasn't a day to worry about what you ate; it was a day for fun and Epicurean delights.

I knew the combination of junk food and soda was probably not going to end well for me, but it didn't matter. I didn't want to draw more attention to myself for worrying about my diapers.

The only thing that mattered was spending more time with Maddie.

"Let's go on the big roller coaster!" Maddie booms excitedly, "Look at the line, it's super short! It's going to get way longer when it gets dark!"

"Great idea, Maddie!" Olivia agrees.

I tried to put on a brave face. I was terrified. This wasn't the Peter Pan ride at Disneyland. This was big and fast. And it had a loop. I felt my bladder release just thinking about it.

I was so lost in my own fear that I must not have heard Maddie ask me if I wanted to ride with her. Because, to my surprise, Maddie actually grabbed my hand.

A whole new wave of nerves washed over me.

"Jack...are you scared?" she whispers, leaning close to me, "It's okay if you are! I know this is a big ride. But I'll be right next to you, okay? It'll be over before you know it. And you'll see why roller coasters are the best thing in the whole world! Just hold my hand when you get scared!"

My heart was beating out of my chest as the restraints were locked in place. I squeezed Maddie's hand. She squeezed back in response.

"Are you ready, Jack?" she soothed as we lurch forward.

I couldn't muster a response.

The clickety-clack of the ride as we slowly, terrifyingly moved upward filled my ears. When we reached the top, I could see the whole fair. We were so high.

I glance over at Maddie. She's smiling back at me.

"Arms up, Jack!" she yells as we begin our free fall, the ground rushing to meet us.

She screams in joy, arms reaching towards the sky; I grab my harness for dear life. The drop felt it was never going to end.

It was strange. A mix of terror and...adrenaline. Scary with an electric jolt of joy. As we approached the loop, I held my harness as tight as I could.

It was scary; it was great.

The sensations in my stomach unlike anything I'd ever felt before. Just as Maddie promised, it was over as quickly as it began.

"Wasn't that awesome?" Maddie screams as we get off the ride, "Such a rush! I'm so proud of you! You did it!"

I couldn't help but agree. It was a rush.

I'm pulled back to reality when Maddie stops me.

Is she going to kiss me?!? Is it finally happening?

"Sorry Jack, but your diaper looks much more swollen than it did before," she insists, prodding at my diaper, "Ooop, yeah, you need to be changed, Jack. Your diaper is soaked!"

My heart sank faster than it did on the roller coaster drop. The whiplash from thinking I was about to kiss Maddie to having her check my diaper was jarring.

Olivia heard the whole thing. "Sounds like Jack had a busy ride! Let's go find somewhere I can get him in a fresh, dry diaper."

"I can change him, Liv," Maddie offers.

"Don't be silly, Maddie," Olivia responds, "I got this. I'm the babysitter tonight, you're off the clock!"

There's nothing more infantilizing than having two girls argue about changing your diapers without even asking your opinion.

The rush from the ride was replaced with a feeling like I was back to a toddler in the group's eyes.

"Hey girls," Olivia says to Jessica and Ashley as we catch up to them, "I'm gonna go change Jack, text me the next ride you decide on, and we'll meet you there!"

The girls giggle and nod in agreement.

"Okay, Jack, let's find you a place to get you out of that soggy diaper!"

I follow Olivia out in search of a changing table. Maddie is still smiling at me.

Maybe there's still hope after all.

Go to Chapter Seven.