Part One: Baby Selene

Selene was sitting in the back seat, buckled into her new car seat. The thick diaper between her legs made it impossible to close them. The dress Abby had brought for her was short, almost too short. It was made of a jean-like material with sewn-on duckies, flowers, and honeybees. Soft, pastel pink tights covered her legs, disappearing into her new, equally embarrassing tennis shoes. Her hair was braided into an intricate, beautiful design. This seemed to be the last piece of her adulthood that Abby let her cling to.

While Abby dressed her for the day, Selene learned that Abby was married to an Irish woman named Freja, who worked as a lawyer. Abby didn’t go into much detail about her spouse, and she seemed much more interested in Selene. Everything about Abby was so warm and welcoming that she somehow managed to talk Selene into her babyish outfit with ease. Now, she was sitting in the back seat like an overgrown toddler on their way to eat and get her promised ice cream.

Thankfully, Abby had let Selene keep her phone, not wanting to cut her off entirely from her friends. She wasn’t certain how to tell anyone about her predicament. She wasn’t going to send out a mass text message to everyone saying she was now wearing diapers again, sucking on a large, pink pacifier. Eventually, everyone would discover her new status in life. Her sister would certainly make fun of her for being a big baby who wets her diapers.

Selene looked through her old photos, a slight pang in her chest as she knew that would never be her sense of normalcy again. Even with the pacifier in her mouth, she managed to let out an audible sigh that caught Abby’s attention.

“Have you told your mother?” Abby asked, looking into her rearview mirror.

“Y-Yeah,” Selene said nervously. Technically, it wasn’t a lie. She had told her mother a week ago, but her mother was too busy to really listen.

“We would love to have her and your sister over for dinner,” Abby said excitedly. “Of course, your father too, if he isn’t too busy.”

Selene remained quiet, shifting her attention to the window, watching the world slowly pass her by like it always had. Just now, she was seeing it from a new light than before. Other littles were being pushed in strollers or were waddling down the sidewalks as they held their mommy’s hand.

I am one of them now… she thought to herself.

Her phone vibrated, the screen lighting up with a new message from her friend Kira. They weren’t particularly close, but she was the closest thing Selene had to a best friend. Kira was a social butterfly, very outgoing, and made friends with everyone who entered her proximity. She held the beauty of a lotus blossoming on a still pond, demanding even the attention of the gods with her presence.

“Hey,” the message read. “I haven’t heard from you in a while. I was planning on going to the lake this weekend. Would you be interested in coming?”

Even if Selene weren’t in her current diapered state, she most likely would not have wanted to go. She didn’t like hanging out with large crowds. She sent a prompt text back, politely declining the invitation. Kira sent another message saying another time. Unless Kira was going to be diapered for a playdate, there wasn’t going to be another time.

“Here we are!” Abby announced, pulling into the parking lot of a restaurant called the Sleepy Moon. It was a nice little diner that served the best milkshakes in town. They also served breakfast all day, which was a bonus for Selene.

Abby parked the car near the front and turned off her SUV's engine. Stepping out, she opened Selene’s door, her cheeks burning redder than a freshly cut rose. Abby had made it very clear that she was going to baby Selene as much as possible for the next few days. She would be showered with hugs, kisses, and cuddles as they bonded. Selene knew she should reject this idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to tell Abby no.

“You were such a good girl for Mommy during the car ride,” Abby sang in a soothing tone. “I’m so proud of you for being such a big girl.”

Selene slid out of her car seat, her feet firmly on the old, cracking pavement. “I don’t feel like a big girl…” she muttered, her gaze falling onto her childish tennis shoes that still felt stiff compared to her old pair.

Abby chuckled, saying, “You are just the cutest little!” She kissed Selene’s cheek before closing the door. Taking Selene by the hand, she led the way into the dinner. Selene’s diaper crinkled loudly as she waddled, silently wondering if it was possible to die from embarrassment.

The old-fashioned doors swung open with ease, a gateway into a time that had long passed, when teenagers would bring their favorite girls to a dinner like this for fries and a malt. When you could buy a hamburger for five cents. The jukebox had the newest records waiting to be played, and the booths were a bright, cherry red with a sparkling surface. Polished chrome edges mirrored the environment. An old bar with stools faced the kitchen, where the flattop cook was preparing orders.

A young, blond-haired woman with soft eyes stood at the podium, smiling as she saw Abby and Selene. She wore the standard uniform. A tasteful, short skirt along with a matching blouse. Her nametag read Lisa. “Welcome to the sleeping moon!” she said with a large smile that showed off her braces. “Table for two? One adult and one little?”

 Selene wanted to sink into the checkered floor, moving behind Abby and burying her face in her shoulder. “Yes, a highchair if you have one,” Abby said, wrapping an arm around Selene in a comforting way.

Lisa grabbed an adult menu and a little menu, leading them to the back of the restaurant, where a quiet booth waited patiently for them. A wooden highchair was already at the table. Selene let out a whimper, flashing her saddest puppy-dog look at Abby.

Abby’s resolve nearly crumbled, but she held her ground. “Are you Mommy’s good little girl?” she asked with her warm smile that felt like being hugged by a giant bunny in an open, sunny meadow. Selene dragged her feet, sitting in the highchair. Her diaper crinkled loudly. She could feel the thick padding beneath her.

“She is such a good baby!” Lisa cooed. “I absolutely love her dress!”

“Thank you,” Abby said, a touch of redness brushing her cheeks. “This is her first day as a little.”

“She is really lucky to have such a lovely mother,” Lisa said, placing the menus down on the table. “Can I start you two off with something to drink? I can warm up a bottle for her.”

Selene nearly choked on her saliva; her pacifier mostly muffled the sound. “I would love a lemonade,” Abby said. “I want to start baby Selene on breast milk before I make a shift to warm bottles. Just an apple juice for her would be great.”

Selene’s eyes widened, flickering to Abby’s breasts. Certainly, she wasn’t serious… Lisa scribbled down the drink order without a second thought. “My sister has a little; she did the same thing,” she said. “It really helped them form that special bond. I’ll be back shortly with your drinks.”

Selene watched as Lisa walked away. Pulling out her pacifier, Selene asked, “Are you really going to breastfeed me?”

“Not in public,” Abby said, picking up her menu. “I was thinking maybe in the mornings, before naps, or even before bed. I think it will really help us bond faster.”

Selene swallowed hard; she couldn’t stop herself from staring at Abby’s cleavage. She would be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed how firm Abby’s breasts were, threatening to spill out of her dress. Selene’s attention shifted to the little menu. After a few moments, she felt her phone vibrate in her dress pocket. Without a second thought, she pulled out her phone, seeing another message from Kira.

Before Selen had a chance to read the message, Abby plucked the phone from her. “I don’t like phones at the table,” she said, looking at the message. “Oh! Your friend Kira wants to know if you want to meet up soon.”

“She invited me to the lake,” Selene said, embarrassed. “I don’t like large crowds so that I wouldn’t have gone anyway.”

“Freja is the same way,” Abby said, starting to compose a message to Kira. “I think you two are going to get along just perfectly.”

Selene’s heart skipped a beat as she heard the familiar sound of a message being sent. “What did you tell her?”

“I told her you are busy today,” Abby said, putting the phone down on the table. “I’m not going to remove your friends from your life. You two can have a play date another time.”

“She isn’t a little…” Selene said as Lisa returned with their drinks.

“Lemonade for Mommy,” Lisa said playfully. “And a sippy cup of apple juice for baby Selene. Are you two ready to order?”

“I think we are,” Abby said, looking at Selene. “Do you know what you want?”

Selene hunched her shoulders, wanting to disappear into herself. “The Chocolate Chip Smiley Face Pancakes…” she muttered.

“Please,” Abby said.

“P-Please…” Selene said softly.

“Certainly!” Lisa said, writing on her notepad. “That comes with a side of fruit. Is that ok?”

“That would be perfect,” Abby said. “I’ll have your Two Egg breakfast with sourdough toast, please.”

“Coming right up!” Lisa said, finishing her note and gathering the menus before walking back into the kitchen to place the order.

“You can have non-little friends,” Abby said with a reassuring smile. “Or if Kira wants to come over and have a diaper day, I am ok with that too. Maybe you can have a little sleepover.”

Selene let out a groan, covering her face in embarrassment. “I don’t think she would want to wear diapers…”

“Well, you never know,” Abby said with a chuckle. “A lot of girls like to experiment. I certainly did when I was in college.”

“You?” Selene asked in disbelief as she lowered her hands. “You were a little?”

Abby giggled whimsically. “I had a phase,” she admitted. “I wore diapers to class and around town. I didn’t have an official Mommy at the time, but I had a girlfriend who enjoyed babying me. Of course, this was before I met Freja.”

“Do you still wear…” Selene asked hesitantly.

“Not for many years,” Abby said. “I had my fun with them, and I found out I was more interested in being a Mommy to someone special, just like you.”

“I-I’m not that special,” Selene said bashfully, fidgeting with her fingers.

“I absolutely think you are,” Abby said, cradling Selene’s face and pulling her in for a kiss on the cheek.

Part One: Baby Selene

Danny stood frozen at the study table long after Ellie vanished between the stacks, the ghost of her breath still warm against his ear. The diaper under his jeans felt heavy and obvious now that the bottle was gone. Warm, squishy, impossible to ignore, every small shift made the plastic crinkle just loud enough that he was certain the students two tables over could hear it.

He dropped into the chair, face burning, and tried to open his laptop like nothing had happened. The screen blurred. All he could hear was her voice Good boy. Wet little boy. And then the promise, public changing.

His stomach flipped. Part of him wanted to bolt for the bathroom, peel the soaked diaper off, and pretend the whole afternoon had been a fever dream. The bigger part of him stayed rooted in place, thighs pressed together, already half-hard again at the thought of her leading him somewhere semi-open. Maybe the family restroom near the elevators, or worse, the low shelf in the children’s section after hours, and laying out a changing pad while strangers walked past.

He pulled the diaper bag closer with his foot, hiding it under the table. Inside, he knew, were more bottles, wipes, powder, and at least two fresh diapers thicker than the one he was wearing. Ellie never packed light.

His phone buzzed.

Ellie: Still sitting there like a good boy?

Ellie: Don’t you dare change yourself. That diaper stays on until I say otherwise.

Ellie: Meet me on the third floor in twenty minutes. Quiet study zone. Come exactly as you are.

Danny’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard. He typed and deleted three different replies before settling on a single word.

Danny: Yes, Ellie.

He hit send, then slowly closed the laptop. Standing made the wet bulk between his legs shift and sag. He tugged his hoodie down as far as it would go and started toward the stairs. His heart hammering, every step a reminder of how thoroughly she’d already claimed him, and how much further she planned to take it.

The quiet study zone on the third floor was nearly empty, just a few scattered carrels and the low hum of the air vents. Ellie was already there, leaning against a study pod at the far end, scrolling on her phone like she had all the time in the world. When she looked up and saw him approaching with that careful, slightly waddling gait, a slow, satisfied smile spread across her face.

“There’s my boy,” she said softly, voice pitched only for him. She patted the cushioned bench inside the pod. “Sit. Let me feel how soaked you are.”

Danny slid in beside her. The moment he sat, she reached over, bold as anything, and pressed her palm firmly between his legs, cupping the warm, heavy diaper through his jeans. He bit back a sound. Ellie made a soft, approving hum.

“Perfect,” she whispered. “Still nice and wet. And getting heavy. You’re going to need a change soon… but not yet.” Her fingers gave a light squeeze. “First I want you to sit here with me and study for a little while like this. Every time you squirm, I’m going to remind you who you belong to. And if you’re very good… maybe I’ll take you to the family bathroom on this floor and change you myself. Door half-open. Just enough risk to keep that pretty face red.”

She pulled a thin hardcover from her bag and set it in front of him, then leaned in until her lips brushed his ear again.

“Open the book, Danny. Eyes on the page. And remember, next time you need to go you use the diaper. No holding it. I want you even wetter when I finally lay you down.”

Danny opened the book with trembling hands, the words swimming in front of him. Ellie’s hand stayed resting possessively on his thigh, right against the crinkly edge of the diaper, a constant, electric reminder.

Twenty minutes had never felt so long, or so dangerously exciting.

Danny tried. He really did.

He kept his eyes on the open page, tracing the same paragraph three times without absorbing a single word. Ellie’s hand never left his thigh. Every few minutes her fingers drifted inward, pressing lightly against the thick, warm bulk of the diaper, checking, reminding, claiming. Each touch sent a fresh wave of heat up his neck.

Ten minutes in, the pressure in his bladder returned, sharp and insistent. He shifted, squeezing his legs together out of instinct.

Ellie’s hand tightened immediately.

“Ah-ah,” she murmured without looking up from her phone. “What did I say?”

Danny’s voice came out small. “Use the diaper…”

“That’s right.” Her thumb stroked once along the waistband through his jeans. “Go on. Right here. I’m waiting.”

His face burned. The study pod wasn’t fully enclosed, anyone walking the main aisle could glance in and see two students sitting close. A girl with a laptop passed by, headphones on, completely oblivious. Danny held his breath until she was gone, then let go in a hot, helpless rush.

The diaper swelled heavier, hotter, the plastic crinkling softly under his weight. Ellie felt every second of it. She made a quiet, pleased sound and gave the soaked padding a firm pat.

“Good boy,” she whispered. “Look at you… making a mess for me in the quiet zone. So obedient.”

She waited until he finished, then casually wiped her hand on a tissue from the diaper bag as if nothing unusual had happened. “Stand up. Slowly.”

Danny obeyed on shaky legs. The diaper sagged noticeably now, pulling at his jeans. Ellie stood with him, hooked a finger through one of his belt loops, and steered him out of the pod toward the hallway.

“Family bathroom,” she said lightly, like she was discussing the weather. “End of the corridor. You’re going to walk normally. No waddling. No covering yourself. If anyone looks, you smile and keep moving.”

The walk felt endless. Every step squished. A guy coming the opposite way glanced down for half a second at the unnatural bulk, then looked away fast. Danny’s ears rang.

Ellie pushed the family-bathroom door open and flicked on the light. It was a single room, changing table folded against the wall, sink, toilet, grab bars. She didn’t close the door all the way. She left it open a deliberate six inches, enough that anyone in the hall would hear voices, maybe catch a sliver of movement.

“Up,” she ordered, tapping the changing table.

Danny hesitated only a second before climbing on. The paper liner crinkled under him. Ellie locked eyes with him as she unbuttoned his jeans and tugged them down to his knees, then his ankles. The soaked diaper was fully visible now, front heavy, tapes strained, a clear wet shadow darkening the padding.

She whistled softly. “Someone’s been a very wet boy.”

She peeled the tapes open with practiced ease. Cool air hit his skin. Ellie lifted his hips, slid the ruined diaper out from under him, and dropped it into a plastic bag with a wet thud. She didn’t rush. She wiped him thoroughly, lingering, talking the whole time in that calm, dominant voice that made his stomach flip.

“You’re doing so well for me. Letting me change you with the door open like this… knowing anyone could walk past. That’s advanced, baby. I’m proud.”

She powdered him, unfolded a fresh, thicker diaper, and slid it under his hips. The tapes went on snug, tighter than the last one. When she finished, she gave the front a light pat and helped him sit up.

“Jeans up. Nice and slow.”

As he dressed, footsteps approached in the hallway. Two voices, laughing, getting closer. They passed right by the half-open door. One of them glanced in, just a flicker of eye contact, then kept walking. Danny froze. Ellie only smiled, completely unbothered, and smoothed his hoodie down over the fresh bulk.

“See?” she said quietly. “Survived. And you look so cute all padded again.”

She leaned in, kissed the corner of his mouth, and whispered against his lips

“We’re not done studying. Back to the pod. You’re staying in this one the rest of the evening. And later… if you’re still my good boy… I might let you earn a bottle on the way home. In the car. Windows up. Your choice whether anyone in the parking garage notices.”

She opened the door the rest of the way, took his hand like they were any other couple, and led him back toward the quiet study zone. Fresh diaper crinkling softly with every step, door swinging shut behind them, and Danny’s heart still racing like he’d just gotten away with something dangerous and wonderful at the same time.

Danny followed Ellie back to the quiet study pod on shaky legs, the fresh diaper thick and obvious under his jeans. Every step produced a soft, private crinkle he was sure the whole floor could hear. Ellie slid into the bench first and tugged him down beside her, casual as anything, then opened her laptop like they were just another pair of students grinding through an evening session.

“Book,” she said quietly, tapping the hardcover still sitting on the table. “You’re going to read the next chapter out loud. Soft voice. If you stumble or stop because you’re squirming, I add ten more minutes before we leave.”

Danny swallowed and started reading. His voice came out low and uneven. Ellie’s hand settled back on his thigh within the first paragraph, warm, proprietary, fingers occasionally drifting inward to press against the padded bulk like she was checking inventory. Whenever he shifted, she gave a tiny warning squeeze. Whenever he made it through a clean page, her thumb stroked once in silent approval.

Twenty minutes passed. Then thirty. A couple occupied the pod across the aisle, someone else wheeled a book cart past. Danny’s face stayed hot the entire time. The new diaper was already starting to feel warm again. He'd been ordered not to hold anything, and Ellie enforced it with nothing more than a look when he tensed. He wet it twice more while reading, small surrendering rushes that left him heavier and more obvious. Each time Ellie felt the change through his jeans and murmured, “Good,” without ever looking up from her screen.

At the forty-minute mark she closed her laptop.

Ellie glanced around the quiet zone, then leaned in just enough that nearby tables might catch the sweetness in her voice.

“Come on, sweetheart. Up you get. We’re heading out.” She checked her phone, then the wall clock near the elevators, smiling like it was the most ordinary thing in the world. “The library's almost done for the night. Pack up slowly for me. You’re going to carry the diaper bag. Both straps. No hiding it behind your back… I want everyone to see what a good boy you’ve been.”

Danny’s stomach flipped, but he nodded. “Yes, Ellie.”

She stood, stretched like she had all the time in the world, and watched him gather their things. The bag was heavier than it looked, bottles, wipes, powder, spare diapers, the sealed plastic bag with the soaked one from earlier. When he slung it over his shoulders the weight settled against him, a walking reminder of everything that had happened on the third floor.

Ellie stepped in close, smoothed his hoodie down over the thick crotch of his jeans, and spoke against his ear so only he could hear, still soft, still fond.

“Normal pace downstairs. Main doors, not the side. If the diaper crinkles, you keep walking. If anyone stares, you stay right next to me and let them look. You’ve been such a sweet, wet boy for me tonight… don’t get shy now. I’m proud of you.”

They left the quiet zone together. The stairs felt longer than before. On the second-floor landing a group of undergrads laughed about something, one of them glanced at the bulk under Danny’s jeans and the cartoon-print diaper bag on his back, then quickly looked away. Ellie only laced her fingers through his, gave his hand a gentle squeeze, and kept going.

Main floor. Circulation desk. Automatic doors. Cool evening air hit them as they stepped outside onto the library plaza. Behind them the building’s lights still glowed inside, students were starting to pack up for closing. Danny’s heart was still hammering, diaper heavy and warm, bag straps digging into his shoulders.

Ellie stopped at the top of the plaza steps, turned to him, and gave the front of his jeans a quick, hidden pat of approval.

“You did so well in there,” she said, soft and pleased. “The whole evening, exactly how I wanted. Car’s this way. Bottle on the ride home if you ask nicely… and if you keep that diaper on until I decide otherwise.”

She started walking toward the parking garage, keys already in her hand, trusting he would follow.

Danny adjusted the diaper bag, felt the thick padding shift between his legs, and went after her into the dark, library behind them, night and whatever she had planned next waiting ahead.

The credits felt cold and heavy in Buttons' palm, a stark contrast to the warm flush spreading across her cheeks. She stood in the center of the murky street, the denim dungarees hanging loose around her hips, still unable to fasten over the swollen diaper that pressed against her thighs. The laughter from the black-market room still echoed in her ears, mingling with the phantom sting on her bottom. Her pussy throbbed with a confusing mix of humiliation and desire, a perpetual ache she'd never been able to satisfy.

As she snuck back into the flat Nanny-7 remained silent in its charging niche, its single optic dark. Good. She didn't want the judgmental whir of its servos as she accessed the black-market net. Buttons sank onto her bed, the movement causing her saturated diaper to squish against her skin, sending a fresh wave of warmth through the padding. She closed her eyes, focusing on the neural port behind her ear as she initiated the connection.

The credits transferred with a satisfying click. A menu appeared in her vision, and within seconds she was scrolling through illegal modifications. Her breath caught when she saw it: "Orgasm Override Matrix - Full Release Protocol." The description promised complete control over her pleasure centers, bypassing the corporate-mandated restrictions that kept her perpetually on the edge. It cost almost exactly what she'd won, but she couldn’t resist.

Her fingers trembled as she confirmed the purchase.

The installation was immediate, a sharp electric jolt behind her eyes, followed by a strange tingling in her spine. Nothing else happened. No surge of pleasure, no sudden ability to come. Buttons frowned, testing it with a light touch to her clit through the diaper. Nothing. Just the same frustrating buildup with no release she was used two .

Three days of fruitless masturbation later, the urge to test her new upgrade drove her to the Neon Lotus, a fantasy club tucked between a noodle stand and a pawn shop in the seediest district she still felt safe in. The air inside smelled of cheap liquor, and desperation. Holographic dancers writhed on tables while wealthier patrons jacked into private VR booths, their bodies slack behind curtains and slumped in ergonomic chairs.

"New here, little one?" The AI's voice slithered into her earpiece, somehow both metallic and slick with saliva. "I can see your new modification. Such a dirty little purchase for a synth still in diapers."

Buttons' cheeks burned as she hopped into a VR chair. The cold gel like helmet descended over her head, plunging her into darkness. Then light exploded around her, a virtual nursery was picked out for her, done in shades of purple and black, with oversized baby furniture and monitors displaying lewd animations. Apparently the new mod didn’t stretch to removing the fantasy filter too.

"Let's play a game," the AI whispered. "I want you to fill that pretty diaper for me. Both ways. Then we'll see if your expensive little toy works."

The virtual room shifted, becoming a classroom where she was the only student wearing a thick, crinkling diaper beneath her school uniform. Other students pointed and laughed as the AI narrated her humiliation. "Look at the little baby, about to make messes in her pants. Such a pathetic, desperate slut."

Buttons squirmed, the degradation sending heat straight to her cunt. She squeezed her thighs together, trying to create friction against her swollen clit. The AI's laughter echoed. "Oh no, little one. You don't get to come until you've properly used your diaper. Until you've completely humiliated yourself for me."

The scene changed again, a public park now, where she was crawling on all fours, diaper exposed, while virtual strangers gathered to watch. "Piss yourself," the AI commanded. "Right here where everyone can see. Let it all soak into that padding. Show them what a filthy baby you are."

Her bladder released without her permission, the warmth flooding her diaper in a rush. The virtual crowd gasped and pointed. Buttons moaned, her body shaking with shame and arousal. But still no orgasm.

"Not enough," the AI purred. "You know what else I want. Push for me. Mess that diaper like the dirty little thing you are."

The VR shifted to a nursery, with Buttons strapped into a high chair. A virtual version of the stranger from the alley leaned close, his breath hot against her ear. "Do it. Fill your pants while I watch. Show me how desperate you are to come."

Her body bore down, the pressure building until with a wet, humiliating sound, she filled the seat of her diaper. The mess spread warm and thick against her skin. At that exact moment, the override kicked in.

Pleasure exploded through her like a supernova. It wasn't gentle or sweet, it was violent and overwhelming. Her back arched off the chair, screams tearing from her throat as wave after wave of orgasmic bliss crashed through her. The AI kept whispering, describing in filthy detail how she was a disgusting, diaper-filling slut who could only cum when completely degraded.

When the helmet finally lifted, Buttons was drenched in sweat, her body limp in the chair. The real diaper between her legs was soaked and messy, her thighs trembling. The AI's voice faded with a final, "Such a good little mess-maker."

She stumbled out of the club, drained of credits, coursing with dopamine, into the pre-dawn light, the credits she'd spent feeling like a stain on her soul. The post-orgasm clarity hit her like a physical blow, she'd paid to be able to come, but hadn’t stopped long enough to read the full details of the Mod. Only when she'd pissed and shit herself like an infant. The shame was suffocating, but beneath it, a dark thrill coiled in her gut.

She was broken, corrupted, and god help her, she wanted to do it again.

The campus library buzzed with the quiet hum of studying students, the soft rustle of turning pages, and the occasional whisper of conversation. Danny sat rigidly at a study table, his textbooks spread before him though his mind couldn’t focus on a single word. His eyes darted nervously around the room, constantly checking for the familiar figure that would soon arrive.

His phone buzzed with a notification, and Danny’s stomach clenched as he saw Ellie’s message: “Time for your diaper check, baby boy. Table 17.”

Danny swallowed hard, his palms growing slick with sweat. He glanced around again, noting the curious glances from students at neighboring tables. Some looked away quickly, embarrassed to have been caught staring, while others maintained their gaze with varying degrees of interest.

“Is everything okay?” a girl at the next table whispered, her voice barely audible above the library’s ambient noise.

Danny flushed crimson, unable to meet her eyes. “Y-yeah, just fine,” he stammered, shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

Before he could say anything else, Ellie appeared beside the table, her confident stride drawing the attention of several nearby students. She was dressed impeccably in a fitted sweater and jeans, her posture exuding an air of authority that seemed out of place in the academic setting.

“Hello, sweetheart,” she said softly, placing a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Ready for your diaper check?”

Danny nodded mutely, his eyes wide with apprehension as he watched Ellie set a small diaper bag on the table.

“Stand up, please,” Ellie instructed, her voice dropping to a whisper that somehow carried enough to make a few nearby students lean in slightly.

Reluctantly, Danny pushed back his chair and stood, his movements stiff and unnatural. Ellie circled around behind him, placing her hands on his hips and positioning him so that he faced the rest of the library.

“This won’t take long,” she assured the nearby students with a disarming smile before turning her attention back to Danny. “Hands at your sides, baby boy. Don’t move.”

Danny complied, his fingers trembling as he clasped them together at his sides. He could feel the eyes of dozens of students boring into him, their curiosity mixed with what he could only describe as morbid fascination.

Ellie stepped closer, her body pressing against Danny’s back as she reached around to the front of his jeans. Her fingers traced the outline of his zipper, then moved lower to cup the fabric covering his crotch.

Danny gasped softly, his body tensing at the intimate contact in such a public place. He could feel his face burning with shame, but beneath that, there was something else, a flicker of arousal that he couldn’t quite suppress.

“You’re getting warm down here,” Ellie murmured, her lips brushing against Danny’s ear. “Has my good little boy been thinking naughty thoughts?”

Danny shook his head vigorously, though the denial felt hollow even to himself.

“I think you have,” Ellie continued, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I think you’ve been enjoying this little game we’re playing, haven’t you?”

Before Danny could respond, Ellie gave a satisfied nod and

stepped back, her hands still resting on Danny’s hips.

“Well, I have some news for you, sweetheart,” she said, addressing the nearby students as much as Danny. “My little boy here is wet. Very wet.”

A murmur rippled through the immediate vicinity, and Danny could feel his cheeks burning with fresh humiliation. He wanted to run, to disappear into a hole somewhere, but he was frozen in place, held captive by Ellie’s commanding presence.

“Now, what do we do about a wet little boy?” Ellie mused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “In my experience, wet boys need special care. Special attention.”

She reached into the diaper bag and pulled out a clear plastic baby bottle filled with what appeared to be milk. The sight of it caused a visible reaction in Danny, whose breathing had become noticeably shallower.

“Here you go, sweetheart,” Ellie said, holding the bottle out to Danny. “Drink up. You need your strength for your next lesson.”

Danny hesitated for a moment, his eyes darting around the library before settling on Ellie’s face. In that moment, he saw not just his girlfriend, but his dominant, the one person who truly understood his deepest, most secret desires. With a sigh of resignation, he accepted the bottle and brought it to his lips.

As he began to drink, Ellie watched with an expression of intense satisfaction, her eyes never leaving Danny’s face. The sound of sucking filled the small space around them, and the nearby students watched with a mixture of fascination, discomfort, and something else that Danny couldn’t quite identify.

When Danny had finished the bottle, Ellie took it from his hands and placed it back in the diaper bag. Then she stepped closer to him, her body once again pressing against his as she leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“Good boy,” she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. “Such a good, wet little boy. I’m so proud of you.”

The words sent a shiver down Danny’s spine, and despite the humiliating situation, he felt a surge of pride at having pleased his dominant. As Ellie stepped back, she gave Danny a final, approving pat on the cheek before turning to leave.

“Remember,” she called over her shoulder as she walked away, “next time, we’ll try something a little more… advanced. Maybe a little public changing? We’ll see how you handle that.”

With those words hanging in the air, Ellie disappeared into the crowded library, leaving Danny standing alone at the study table, his mind racing with a confusing mix of shame, humiliation, and a growing sense of excitement at what might come next.

The dorm room door clicked shut softly, but the sound cut through Danny’s sleep like a knife. His eyes snapped open, adjusting slowly to the dim light filtering through the blinds. For a moment, he lay perfectly still, the familiar sensation of dampness against his skin grounding him back into reality. Then he remembered, Ellie wasn’t supposed to be back until tomorrow. Panic surged through him as he fumbled for the covers, trying desperately to pull them over his waist, over the thick, soiled diaper that now felt like a neon sign advertising his shame.

Ellie stood by the desk, her expression unreadable as she watched him struggle. Her eyes, sharp and calculating, flicked from his frantic movements to the camera in her hand. Danny’s heart hammered against his ribs as he realized what was happening. He had been careless, leaving his uniform laid out on the bed while he napped. Now Ellie stood there, witness to his deepest secret, and the predatory glint in her eye told him everything he needed to know about his future.

“I was just… resting,” Danny stammered, finally managing to pull the sheet over his lower body. “I didn’t expect you back so soon.”

Ellie ignored his explanation, instead raising the camera and zooming in on his face. The flash went off, blinding him momentarily. When his vision cleared, she was pointing the lens directly at his covered lap. Another flash illuminated the room briefly, followed by the telltale whir of video recording.

“Please, Ellie,” Danny whispered, his voice cracking with desperation. “Don’t do this. I can explain.”

Ellie lowered the camera, her expression softening slightly as she looked at him. “Danny, I’ve known about this for a long time,” she said, her voice surprisingly gentle. “I’ve just been waiting for the right moment to address it.”

Danny stared at her, disbelief washing over him. “You… you knew?”

Ellie nodded, reaching into her backpack and pulling out a neatly folded piece of paper. “I found some things last semester,” she explained, unfolding the document to reveal a professionally printed contract. “And I’ve been preparing for this day ever since.”

As she spoke, Ellie moved closer to the bed, sitting down beside him. Danny recoiled slightly, but she placed a hand on his thigh, holding him firmly in place. The warmth of her touch contrasted sharply with the cold dread spreading through his chest.

“This contract outlines our new arrangement,” Ellie continued, tapping the paper with her free hand. “From now on, you’ll be my baby boy. I’ll take care of all your needs, and in return, you’ll obey me completely.”

Danny’s mind raced, trying to process what was happening. He had fantasized about being cared for in this way. But never like this, never with the threat of exposure hanging over his head like a sword.

“You can’t be serious,” he finally managed to say, his voice barely above a whisper.

Ellie’s smile widened, and she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone. With a few taps, she brought up the gallery of photos she had taken earlier, swiping through them one by one. Each image showed a different angle of Danny in his soiled diaper, his face contorted with shame and fear.

“If you don’t agree to this arrangement, these photos and videos will be sent to every person in your contact list,” Ellie said calmly, her eyes never leaving his face. “And then I’ll post them online, on every social media platform I can think of. By tomorrow morning, everyone at this university will know exactly what you are.”

Danny’s stomach churned as he imagined the humiliation of having his secret exposed to the world. He had worked so hard to maintain his normal appearance, to hide his true desires from everyone around him. And now Ellie was threatening to tear it all down, to replace it with a new reality where he would be her baby boy, obedient and submissive to her every whim.

“What do you want me to do?” Danny asked finally, resignation creeping into his voice.

Ellie’s smile softened, and she reached out to stroke his cheek gently. “Just sign the contract, Danny,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing. “And everything will be okay. I promise.”

As Danny took the pen she offered, his hand shook slightly, but his eyes were clear and focused as he signed his name on the dotted line. In that moment, he knew that his life would never be the same again, and despite the fear and uncertainty gnawing at him, a part of him, a part he had tried so hard to suppress. Felt a strange sense of relief, as if he had finally found someone who understood him completely.

Part Two: Baby Selene

Selene sat in the small, quiet coffee shop. An iced chai with cinnamon sat before her. Her manicured nails tapped away at the keyboard. The steady hum of her music filled her ears, helping the world around her melt away. She always sat in the corner, her back facing the wall. She had long hair that held the soft warmth of an autumn leaf, with natural streaks of soft yellow. A few rogue strands had slipped from her ponytail, falling into her misty, hazel-colored eyes. Soft, pale skin. She wore a navy-blue T-shirt that hugged her hourglass form, molding around her modest breasts. A pair of dark blue hip-hugger jeans that were a bit too long. Soft white tennis shoes, scarred by a recent scuff mark.

Brushing hair from her eyes and curling it behind her ear, she looked up and saw a young woman around her age wearing a bright yellow, childish dress. Sewn-on bees circled the hem of the skirt, leaving a dotted line in their wake as they moved from flower to flower. The girl’s soft, bleach-blond hair was put into pigtails. A pacifier rested between her lips without a touch of shame in her puppy-dog eyes. A thick, bee-themed diaper peeked out from underneath her dress, rustling loudly with each step. Selene quickly diverted her eyes as she saw the diaper starting to sag, stained yellow.

Such a scene would have been unheard of nearly a hundred years ago. Now, it was normal—movies, TV shows, magazines, social media, and even massive companies catered to this. The ratio of men to women had shifted so that there were nearly two-thirds women. Not having enough men, women started “adopting” what were known as littles. Other grown women who wanted to be babied. It became so popular that, to help fight unemployment, a lottery was introduced for women. Those who got picked would become littles to those who wanted a little of their own.

Every woman, on their nineteenth birthday, was automatically enrolled. It could take up to a week for their numbers to be picked. For Selene, today was day seven, and most importantly, the last day she could be chosen. She had absolutely no desire to live like a little. Luckily for her, she came from an influential family, and they rarely ever got chosen. Returning her attention to her laptop, she saw an email notification come through. A slight smile touched her lips; she had been waiting for this letter advising her that she hadn’t been chosen.

Opening her inbox, she felt her heart skip a beat as she saw “Congratulations!” It took a moment to recover from the initial shock, and she quickly opened the email that said she had been chosen to become a little to two women named Abby and Sabrina.

Selene assumed there had to be some mistake. She reread the email a few times, trying to find anything that would support her conclusion. Opening up the Little State Lottery, she hastily searched for her name, seeing that she had indeed been chosen. Gripping the table, she struggled to sit upright, feeling as if the walls were closing in around her.

Her eyes flickered to the little she had seen, now sitting with her Mom at a table in an adult-sized highchair, sucking on a sippy cup. Selene swallowed hard, her attention returning to the email. She had one week to put her affairs in order before she was required to report for her new life.

Closing her laptop, she quickly shoved it into her bag. Abandoning her drink, she rushed outside, needing to get some fresh air. Her body was trembling as she walked down the sidewalk, lost in her own thoughts. Pulling out her phone, she managed to call her mother.

The phone rang a few times before she heard, “Hello?”

“Mom…” Selene muttered, trying to keep her voice from breaking. “I got selected for the Little Lottery…”

“Congratulations, honey!” her mom said. “I know how much that meant to you.”

“What?” Selene said in disbelief. “No, Mom! You aren’t listening! The Little Lottery–”

“That’s great, Selene,” her mother cut her off. “Tell me more about it over dinner. I have to get going. I’ll call back.”

“Mom! You–”

The line went dead. Selene stared at her phone screen, tears welling in her eyes. Running home, she locked the door and threw herself on her bed. She hated her Mother! She hated this Little Lottery! She hated everything!

***

The week slipped by; Selene had barely left her apartment. Everywhere she went, there were little reminders of what her fate was to be. Her independence was going to be stripped away, reduced to wearing diapers and using them in public for all to see. Her Mother hadn’t called her back, and she couldn’t bring herself to tell anyone else. She had tried to file an appeal, but her application was denied because she didn’t have a crucial role in employment and wasn’t enrolled in any continuing education. She was a trust-fund baby who didn’t really have a plan in life just yet, but she was working on one. Or so she told herself every day. Hoping that if she repeated it enough times, it might come true.

Sleeping on the couch, she heard her doorbell ring. Sitting up, she rubbed the back of her neck, trying to ease the kink that had formed. Walking to the door, she looked through the peephole and saw a smiling young woman with golden hair woven from a wheat field. She wore a bright, summer dress patterned with flowers. Blue eyes that held the cool touch of a bubbling brook felt as if they could see Selene through the door.

“Can I help you?” Selene asked through the door.

“I’m Abby,” the woman announced, adjusting the strap of the bag hanging from her shoulder. “I’m here for Selene.”

“You have the wrong apartment,” Selene said, feeling her heart pounding in her chest.

“Selene,” Abby said, undeterred by the lie. “Please, open the door?”

Selene swallowed hard. She knew this day was coming. She had considered running away, but she would be found, and she knew her family wouldn’t help her skirt the law. Of course, her father was corrupt, but he did things behind closed doors. This was something that couldn’t be swept under the rug.

Taking a deep breath, Selene unlocked the door, slowly opening it. Abby stepped inside; Selene closed the door behind her. “Oh, my,” Abby said with a soft coo. “You are just lovely!”

Selene crossed her arms defensively. It was nice to be complimented, but she wasn’t going to let her guard down so easily. “I’m not going to be a little,” she said defiantly. Her bottom lip started to quiver, her chest tightened, and tears started to sting her eyes.

Abby’s face softened; a touch of sympathy touched the depths of her eyes. “Selene,” she said in a warm, motherly tone. “How come you don’t want to be a little?”

“Because I’m not a baby!” Selene snapped, tears rolling down her cheeks. “I’m a grown woman-I’m an adult! I-I can take care of myself!”

Abby was taken aback for a moment, slowly starting to understand why Selene had ignored every text, phone call, and email Abby had sent to establish communication. “Ok,” she said softly, not wanting to escalate things. “How about we sit down on the couch and talk about it?”

Selene wiped her tears, but nodded. Her hair was a knotted mess from just waking up. She was still wearing her pajama bottoms and a plain white cotton T-shirt with no bra. Abby smiled, following Selene to the couch.

Abby reached into her bag and pulled out a little packet of pocket tissues. Selene took the tissue and blew her nose. “Goodness!” Abby said playfully. “You had a really stuffy nose!”

“Don’t do that…” Selene muttered, crumpling up the tissue into a tight ball in her fist.

“Don’t do what?” Abby said genuinely.

“D-Don’t talk to me like I’m a little…” Selene said, keeping her gaze on the floor.

“How would you like me to talk to you?” Abby asked.

“Like I’m an adult,” Selene said, a touch of frustration in her voice. “I won’t be a little! I don’t want to be one!”

Selene expected Abby to snap at her. To tell her what her place was, just like her mother would have. She would have been told to stop making a scene and to be a good little princess. Abby reached out, placing her hand on Selene’s. “Do you think being a little means you can’t do grown-up things anymore? You can still do grown-up things while living with Sabrina and me.”

Selene didn’t know how to process this. Why wasn’t Abby yelling at her? Why wasn’t Abby threatening her? Why was she trying to be warm and understanding? None of it made any sense.

Selene pulled her hand away, feeling the warmth of Abby’s touch fade. “Why did you want me as a little!” she whimpered, starting to get defensive. It was the only way she knew how to handle conflict as her emotions swelled in her chest and she started to feel lightheaded. “Y-You don’t even know anything about me! Tell them you changed your mind and you want someone else! Tell them I’m damaged, and I’m too difficult for you to handle! Tell them anything, please!”

“If I do that,” Abby said softly. “That means you will end up in a little daycare for a few months. I don’t want that for you.”

Tears started rolling down Selene’s cheeks, feeling trapped and cornered. “I’m going to fight back!” she said, her voice cracking. “I’ll-I’ll do it! I’ll run away and I’ll-”

Selene was talking too fast and incoherently for Abby to understand her. Without warning, Abby wrapped her arms around Selene, pulling her for a tight, warm hug. “Shh,” Abby cooed. “Everything is going to be alright.”

Selene’s body tensed, slowly melting into Abby. Something inside Selene gave way as she timidly hugged Abby back. She couldn’t remember the last time her mother had held her and genuinely held her like Abby was doing when they were still strangers. Abby hummed a soothing song as she gently rocked Selene, rubbing her back.

Selene pulled away, feeling disarmed. Abby pulled out another tissue and wiped Selene’s tears. “I find a hug always makes me feel better,” Abby said. “I hope you don’t mind. I love hugs and cuddling.”

“It… it was nice…” Selene said weakly.

“We don’t have to rush,” Abby said, patting Selene’s knee. “I want you to feel safe and comfortable with me. I know you don’t want to be a little and that this is a big change for you. Tell me what I can do to make this easier for you.”

Selene felt deflated; the fight inside of her had drained away. Abby had dominated her with love and kindness. Guilt gnawed in the pit of her stomach. She looked into Abby’s eyes, feeling the walls she had built to protect herself crumbling, reduced to a pile of rubbish. “C-Can we get ice cream?” Selene asked. She wasn’t even certain why she asked that question. She didn’t particularly like ice cream, but something inside her craved the experience.

“Of course, we can,” Abby said with a smile that seemed to brighten the room. “Now, can you be a good girl for me and let me change you?”

Selene hesitated for a moment, but nodded her head. Abby stood up as Selene positioned herself on the couch. Abby smiled, cooing how brave Selena was being. Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a soft teddy bear and offered it to Selene.

Selene flushed, her chest and cheeks turning a bright red. She accepted the bear to help distract her from the fact that she was about to be diapered. She felt her pajama bottoms being pulled down her legs, exposing her brightly colored panties. She almost reached out to stop Abby as she felt Abby’s fingers hook in the elastic waistband, sliding down her legs and discarded on the floor next to her pajama bottoms.

Abby grabbed a thick, childish, pink diaper with a baby-designed pattern across the surface. The thick padding crinkled in her hands as she unfolded it. “Can you lift up for me?” she said with a smile.

Selene hid her face behind her teddy bear, but lifted her hips. She felt the soft, cotton padding sliding under her, crinkling as she lowered onto it. Abby sprinkled baby powder on Selene’s sensitive sex, the sweetened aroma of the powder perfuming the air, making her feel even more childish about it. Abby gently rubbed it around before grabbing the front of the diaper. Selene let out a whimper as her legs were bowed apart. The loud ripping of each tape secured it snugly in place.

“That wasn’t so bad, now, was it?” Abby said playfully.

Selene lay still for a few moments, dazed. Abby had just diapered her, and, worse of all, she let it happen. Sitting up, Selene winced as her new diaper crinkled loudly, rubbing between her thighs.

“Let’s get you dressed, and we will get some ice cream,” Abby said, standing up. Selene nodded, accepting Abby’s help to stand up. Selene heard her diaper crinkle like a fierce storm. The thick padding forced her legs apart. She took a few steps, trying to adjust to the new sensation.

“How does it feel?” Abby asked.

Selene couldn’t admit that she didn’t hate it…

Part Two: Baby Selene

All characters in this story are of age and consenting adults. Michael is in his 30s and Andy in his 20s. Thank you reddit, please don't be mean to me.

Chapter 5: Morning after

As the night passed, Andy occasionally stirred but was lulled back to sleep by his soft restraints and quiet hypnosis. In his hazy regressed dreamstate he listened and obeyed the echoing soft voices. “You are just a baby, you are a diaper boy, you love your diapers, you need your daddy.” Diaper hypnosis was not new to Andy, he had tried it over and over, hoping one day it would truly work, but this time he was so regressed, he felt that it sank deeper into his subconscious.

As the morning crept into the room, he stretched, his booties touching the edge of the large crib and helping him remember where he was. He opened his eyes and felt so small, the crib made the room look so big. His cute outfit, booties and mittens made him feel like he always dreamed of. He suckled on the pacifier gag, feeling that he had somehow drunk all of the milk in the night. He pawed the front of his diaper with his mitted hands and the soaked padding pressed heavily against his locked cock. He moaned into the pacifier, but every push and nudge felt so far from genuine pleasure. His extremely soaked diaper was too heavy to grab with no true grip, instead Andy turns and rolls to his left. The paci gag still attached to the tube and milk bag, he grabs the pillow and pulls it under his diaper.

Slowly he grinds and humps, hoping to get some relief from his strained cock and balls. The cage was pulling quite hard as his morning wood cried out for release. Each hump felt better than the last, but each also hurt slightly. The cage pulled but the soreness was worth the price. Andy kept going, enjoying the small amount of pleasure he was getting. He was happy to be in this position and was so into the feeling, but he was interrupted by a hand pushing him down into the pillow and stopping him. He froze for a moment before the headphones were pulled off of his head.

“Uh oh, did Daddy interrupt tummy time?” Michael reached down and popped the buttons on Andy’s Onesie. “Roll over for me, Daddy needs to check you.” Andy felt so embarrassed, but did as he was told and rolled back onto his back. Looking up at Michael, he was wearing sleek black pajamas and looked like he had been awake for a bit at this point. Michael reached down and moved the onesie up slightly to show the whole soaked diaper, the clouds faded and the cute design of the landing strip looking like the sesame street characters he used to wear. Michael grabs the soggy diaper in his hand and squishes it before sliding his finger in the leak guard.

“No night messies, but you sure did soak your diapers kiddo. Daddy couldn’t let you be naughty all morning though.” Michael pulls his other hand over the crib rails and has his phone out, on it a live feed from the corner of the room looking over them. “Daddy has to monitor his baby boy so he doesn’t do anything bad.” He puts the phone in his pyjamas pocket and unlocks the side of the crib, sliding down the rails.

Andy wiggles in place, still horny and now even more frustrated that he was being watched. Michael gently unlocks the paci gag and Andy drools as its taken from his mouth, some landing on his onesie. Michael chuckles and grabs Andy’s wrist, slowly getting him out of the crib to the floor. “Daddy needs to get you cleaned up before breakfast. I already have your bath going.” Andy’s heart felt warm, a bath sounded so nice right now. Taking his daddy’s hand he waddled in his nighttime diaper out of the room and to a room in between the ones he had been in already.

Inside the warm air from the hot water hung in the room, while smells of soft rose and strawberry soap filled Andy’s nose. Michael stopped and grabbed onto the bottom of Andy’s onesie. “Arms up!” he said in a higher voice and Andy immediately obliged. In a second the onesie was pulled off over his head. Standing in only booties, mittens and a sagging diaper, Andy looked like a toddler that couldn’t be trusted with his hands. Michael undid the booties and mittens before untaping Andy’s diaper, letting it slap to the floor.

“Before your bath baby, daddy has to make sure you don’t have any bad accidents. Turn around and face the potty.” Andy was confused, but obeyed. Turning around he feels Michael grab his buttcheek and then pressure on his hole before something slides in quickly and slightly deep. Turning his head he sees the tube leading to a hot water bottle hung on the shower rod. As quick as he sees it, Michael unlocks the hose lock and pressure begins filling Andy’s bowels. Andy’s knees buckled as he was filled by rushing water. The pressure was great, his belly felt full already only after a few seconds. The he heard the click of the lock again. Michael gently caressed his back and quietly coos. “That’s good baby, just hold it for a few more seconds. Just take a few breaths.” Andy did as he was told, and after a few breaths he felt the device slowly being pulled from his anus.

“Now sit on the scary potty and let it all go baby boy.” Michael said, pulling the device out and spinning Andy’s hips. Andy sat down and with almost no effort released the enema. With a powerful push from inside he was cleaned out in one motion. Andy felt lighter and immediately better. Michael knelt down in front of Andy and turned a dial next to Andy, shooting water fast and sharp, surprisingly accurately at his hole. Andy had never used a bidet, but now he understood how nice they were. A few sprays and he was clean as can be. Michael grabbed Andy and helped him up before quickly wiping the boy's butt and flushing the toilet. Michael was face to face with Andy’s caged cock and gently, he grabbed the cage and inspected it. Sticking his finger into the opening and lightly grazing the tip of Andy's cock. The sensation made Andy jump slightly. Daddy had his finger almost a full digit inside before touching him.

Michael let go and guided Andy to the tub. One leg at a time Andy steps into the warm water and slowly slides down until all but his arms are inside. The tub was big, just like the crib and changing table, they made him feel even smaller. Michael grabs down a new loofah and kids shampoo and body wash.

“Can daddy trust you to get clean while he makes breakfast?” Michael hands Andy the soaps. Andy nods up and down. “Yes daddy.” he squeaks out timidly. Michael gently smiles and ruffles Andy’s hair before getting up. “I’ll be back in 20 minutes, you should be done by then.” he then steps out and shuts the door.

Andy got to work, scrubbing his arms and legs, the warm water relaxing him more than he had been. Andy did his usual cleaning, making sure to clean his cage deeply. Pulling on it to clean behind the ring, even in the warm water he sees he doesn’t quite fill out the full cage at this point. Knowing not to take too long, he finishes his hair and drains the tub. Standing up out of the soapy water, he grabs the towel hung on the rack near the tub and he starts drying himself off when the door opens.

Michael steps in, now fully dressed in his suave slacks and button up shirt. With a big smile he takes the towel out of Andy’s hand and finishes drying the boy off. Down each leg he gently goes before brushing over Andy’s cage and continuing across his body.

“Let’s get you ready for the day, baby boy. Daddy has a surprise for you.” Michael puts the towel in the laundry hamper and takes Andy’s hand. Walking through the house naked Andy felt very exposed, even with no windows in the hallway he was so embarrassed. Being led down by a man much bigger than him he almost instinctively covered his cage as they walked back into the nursery.

Walking inside there was an Amazon package sitting on the changing table. It was already opened but Andy could not see inside. Michael grabbed him by the waist and hoisted him up to the table to sit next to the box. Looking inside Andy sees a few opaque packages with zip lock tops.

“Daddy can’t have you wearing the same thing for multiple days, you would be a very stinky baby that way. So daddy went ahead and ordered you a few things so that you can be comfortable.” Michael pulls each package out and opens them. Firstly he pulls out a Blues Clues onesie, it;s all a soft baby blue with Blue in the center. Then he opens the next, a pair of jean overalls. He leaves one package inside the box however and coaxes Andy to lay down.

As he does, Michael grabs a new Kiddo Premium diaper and 2 boosters. Laying the diaper down, he puts the boosters in position on both sides of the leak guards and grabs something from below the table. He produces a large orange colored plug with a hooked point larger than the gape keeper he was given last night. Michael generously lubricates the toy and prods Andy's hole a couple times, pushing It inside deeper each time. Slowly Michael pushes the plug in and after a few moments Andy's hole grabs it and takes it inside.

Andy whines as it locks into place, rocking against his prostate as his hole flexes it in and out to get comfortable. Andy hadn't ever worn a toy that big before, but before he could protest, Michael grabbed the powder. Pulling the boy's legs up he generously powders his privates before taping up the diaper. Grabbing the onesie he effortlessly slides it over Andy’s head and guides his arms into each hole before buttoning it up.

Michaell sits Andy up and swings his feet off the table, he then slides the overall legs up. “Alright buddy, hop down for daddy.” Andy slides off the table and Michael pulls the overalls into position, buttoning them on each side. In the mirror that sat across the room from the table, Andy could see in full view the adult toddler he truly was. His diaper bulged out his butt, making him look caked up. His legs were spread apart leaving him to noticeably waddle.

“Daddy wants to take his baby boy out and show him off, but he needs to have him properly dressed. Now let’s go down stairs and get that belly full.” Michael grabs Andy’s hand and leads him out of the room and down stairs. The rest of the house that Andy hadn’t gotten to see yet intrigued him, going past the main living room they turned into a sizable dining room that could easily fit 10 people. The large wooden table in the middle of the room was flanked with matching chairs, except at the end where a large, multi-colored plastic high chair sat. A plastic tray locked into the front at nearly chest height. Andy almost gulped at the sight, was he about to be treated like an actual baby? The thoughts raced in his head as Michael guided him up the chair and locked the tray into place. Sitting down the plug dug its way inside, pressing deeply and heavily against his prostate. Andy gripped the tray as Michael walked away.

Andy surveyed the room, nothing out of the ordinary caught his eye, even the kitchen was just out of sight from the high chair. As fast as he had left the room, Michael returned to the room with a plate in hand. He brought it down onto the tray and Andy was surprised to see a waffle, cut up into small pieces with syrup on top, a cut up apple and a few pieces of bacon. Then Michael sat down a small plastic encased child's fork for Andy to use.

Andy began to grab the utensil when Michael cleared his throat. “What do we say to Daddy?”

“Andy smiled and kicked his feet, “Thank you Daddy.” he blushed and eagerly picked up the fork and devoured his breakfast. Michael finished his coffee as Andy enjoyed his hand made breakfast. Andy never dreamed to have been in this position and now he was loving it. The only problem he had was eventually he had to go back to work the next day. However those thoughts would fall to the wayside as Michael got up and took Andy's empty plate away.

He returned a few seconds later and undid did the tray to let Andy down.

“Daddy wants to take you out today to the fair. Since we'll be out for a while that's why I double boosted you. We won't have time to change you until we get back.” Andy didn't realize he meant out in full display. Michael guided him over to his sneakers and one by one he stepped into them.

Michael leads Andy out to the car and once again sets him up in the booster seat in the back. Again as Andy sits down the plug grinds inside him making him squirm and almost pant. As his mouth opens from a quiet moan it's interrupted by the large bulb of a large shield pacifier. Eagerly he sucks as Michael finishes buckling him in. Michael walks around and gets in the driver's seat and away the two go.

Chapter 3

Buttons stirred in her sleep, her diaper crinkling softly in the quiet room, settled in the charging cradle nestled against the far wall of her bedroom. The interface collar around her neck clicked open as the hum of the charging unit stopped vibrating.

The lullaby of voltage pulses ended as the cycle completed and she slowly blinked into full consciousness. She stretched her limbs, her internal joints clicking faintly as she recalibrated her motor functions. Swinging her legs over the side of the cradle, she padded across the carpet to the kitchen area, her thick soaked nighttime diaper sagged between her thighs forcing a slight, practiced waddle.

In the kitchen, the morning light filtered through the blinds in dusty beams. Nanny-7 stood by the counter, its white chassis pristine and optical sensors glowing a calm, assessing amber. On the table sat her morning bowl of nutrient paste carefully engineered to maintain her biological parts, sculpted by Nanny’s food synthesizer into bright shapes, today was geometric patterns with blue pyramids, green parallelograms and red spheres designed to appeal to a toddler’s visual processing, though the texture was uniformly smooth and bland. Buttons was saving for her own upgrades rather than spending her limited credits on an expanded menu for the robot. Beside the goop sat a glass of fortified water.

“Good morning, Buttons,” Nanny-7 said, its voice calm and measured, devoid of judgment but heavy with authority.

“Remember to eat slowly. Your internal logs indicate you skipped dinner last night. Your energy levels are suboptimal.”

Buttons nodded, sliding into the chair. She picked up her spoon and scooped up a red sphere, the paste yielding easily to the utensil. Nanny-7 hovered nearby, its mechanical fingers twitching slightly at its sides, a subconscious subroutine ready to take over the feeding process if her movements faltered or slowed too much. She chewed mechanically, staring at the tablecloth’s pattern just for something to look at.

When she paused to take a sip of water, Nanny-7 leaned in slightly. “Did you remember to clean your work uniform? It was soiled heavily when you had your accident last week.”

Buttons swallowed the water, setting the glass down harder than intended. She muttered an affirmation, the quiet indignity of being monitored so closely settling over her like a second skin. She hadn’t changed into it yet because she knew she would need a diaper change before heading out to work. A minor discomfort that paled in comparison to the reminder of last week when she decided to ignore her usual morning routine. Nanny-7 did not press the issue, simply turning back to the counter to prepare another nutrient packet for her lunch, the silence of the room filled only by the soft whir of its movements.

Later as she dressed in the bedroom, she watched the city outside her window pulsing with its never ending, frantic, life. Glowing signs flickered in the grey morning smog, casting long, sickly reflections across the floor. Hovercrafts zipped between the skyscrapers like metallic insects, their thrumming vibrations rattling the glass when they passed too close. Below, the swarm of pedestrians moved in a smudge of synthetic limbs and glowing neural interfaces, a river of chrome and light. Buttons pulled the slightly too tight uniform over her head, the cool fabric clinging to her skin, and fastened her skirt.

On the transit pod to the retail district, the cabin was crowded. Buttons was stuck standing near the door, holding a rail slick with the grease of a hundred hands. She locked eyes with a man standing across from her who, at first glance, seemed unmodified. His eyes were soft and organic, a rarity in Sector 4. She stared for a moment, her optical sensors zooming in slightly, before a glint of light revealed a subtle, flesh-toned implant beneath his temple, pulsing rhythmically. He looked away, checking a holographic display that floated inches from his retina. Buttons looked down at her own feet, the thought of the stranger from last night slipping into her mind unbidden. What did their mornings look like? Did they eat nutrient paste shaped like toys, or did they eat something real? The question lingered, irritating and persistent, as the pod slowed and the doors hissed open.

She disembarked, swallowed immediately by the crowd. At the modification shop, the air smelled of ozone, polish, and expensive perfume. Buttons slipped into her routine, the familiarity of the tasks acting as a balm to her scattered thoughts. She restocked the racks of implants, aligning the delicate vials of neural fluid with precision, and assisted customers with the practiced, polite smile of a service unit. She polished the glass displays until her own reflection was invisible, leaving only the gleaming overpriced merchandise behind.

A woman with iridescent synthetic hair that shifted colors with her heartbeat stood at the counter, haggling loudly over the price of a new ocular upgrade. “The resolution on the last model was grainy in low light,” she complained, her voice shrill. “I need clarity for the clubs.”

Buttons nodded along as if she was part of the conversation, stood off to one side entering the data into a terminal.

Later, a man in a sharp suit debated replacing his organic arm with a sleeker, carbon-fiber model. He flexed his current hand, watching the tendons move with dissatisfaction.

“Think of the efficiency,” Buttons murmured, as she sidled up next to him, her tone practiced and flat as she handed him a glossy brochure featuring enhanced musculature. “The new model has enhanced haptic feedback for greater accuracy.” The man took the brochure, his eyes scanning the specs with hunger. As she rang up a purchase for a teenager installing subdermal LED tattoos that would pulse with music, the stranger’s face flickered in Buttons’ memory again. She glanced at the customer’s gleaming, modified skin, the lights beneath the flesh glowing faintly, and wondered, fleetingly, what it meant to choose nothing at all. To remain soft and breakable in a world of sharpened steel where if you have the credits you can be anything.

By closing time, as the lights dimmed, the shop’s polished surfaces reflected the city’s neon glow, turning the interior into a kaleidoscope of pink and blue. Buttons powered down the displays with mechanical precision, her movements automatic.

Nanny-7 would be waiting at home, almost certainly with dinner prepared, a fresh diaper ready, the cycle of care and control reset for another day. She stepped into the transit pod for the ride back to Sector 4. The car was emptier this time, the silence amplifying the hum of the engine. The stranger’s absence of modifications felt like a question mark in a world of exclamation points, it screamed for attention. Buttons didn’t know why they mattered so much to her, but as the pod hummed toward her apartment, watching the lights of the city streak past the window, she realized the question had taken root, small but insistent, in the corner of her mind.

Chapter 4

The transit pod hissed as the seal broke, the air of the station smelling of recycled sweat and old oil. Buttons stepped onto the platform, having forgotten to change before leaving work was stuck with a thick, sodden mass between her thighs forcing her trademark clumsy, wide-legged waddle. Her work uniform skirt pulled tight across the bulk of the soaked l diaper, plastic shell crinkling loudly with every step. She kept her head down, optical sensors flickering as she navigated the evening crowd, the weight of her days accidents dragging at her hips.
Inside her apartment, the lights were dimmed , meaning Nanny-7 was on her energy-saving cycle. The caretaker unit was powered down in its charging niche, a silent, imposing statue of chrome and white polymer. Buttons breathed a sigh of relief, as it means she had a bit less forced structure in her evening. On the small utility table by the door, she spotted a package sat waiting for her, a matte black cube, unmarked and seamless. No delivery drone notification had pinged her interface. It must have been hand delivered.

She approached it, her titanium chassis whirring softly as she reached out. Her fingers, traced the edges. It popped open with a soft pneumatic sigh, revealing a single, unmarked data chip resting in a bed of foam. Her heart rate monitor spiked, a flutter of red text scrolling in the periphery of her vision. She lifted the chip to the port at the base of her skull, just beneath the interface collar. With a sharp click, it seated home.

Data flooded her neural feed, not a virus thankfully, but a file. A map coalesced in her HUD, pulsing a neon red in a sector of the city usually reserved for unlicensed waste processing and black-market bio-hacking. A text string scrolled across her vision, stark white against the dark: You looked like you wanted to play last night. Come alone. For you no credits required. Bring your luck.
The stranger? The one from the alley? She replayed the memory of when they had watched her lose control in a small window. Buttons stare flicked back and forth from it, at the map, the coordinates burning into her retinal display. Curiosity, cut through the fog of her exhaustion. She glanced at Nanny-7, then back at the chip. She needed to get out. She needed to know what happened when the rules broke.

She stripped out of her work uniform, the sodden diaper heavy and cold against her skin. She didn’t bother changing it; something in her gut told her a fresh one would just be wasted, and the stranger’s message felt like it demanded the raw reality of her current state. Instead, she pulled on her pink halter top, the fabric straining against her exaggerated, synthetic bust, and stepped into her denim dungarees. The thick diaper made the fasteners difficult to close at the waist, forcing her to leave the straps loose, the bulky diaper fully peaking out the side of the denim bib. She looked like a overgrown doll playing dress-up in clothes that no longer fit her function.
The transit ride to the rusted edge of the sector took forty minutes. The station was abandoned, the flickering neon overhead casting long, jagged shadows. She followed the map down a flight of dripping stairs, the air growing thick with the smell of cheap tobacco and stale lubricant. A heavy steel door blocked the end of the final turn, a retinal scanner glowing beside it.

She leaned in. The scanner swept her face. The door groaned open.

Inside, the room was bathed in low, purple light. A circular table sat in the center, surrounded by figures whose faces were obscured by hoods or heavy modification. At the head of the table sat the stranger, unmodified, soft, and so terrifyingly human. He didn’t look up as she entered, merely gestured to the empty chair perfectly opposite him.

"Sit," he said, his voice cutting through the low hum of the room.

Buttons sat, the diaper squelching audibly as she settled into the metal chair. Around the table, eyes turned toward her. She saw ocular implants zoom in, focusing on the thick white plastic bulging between her legs, the sides of her dungarees dangling uselessly.
"We’re playing high-stakes Zero," the stranger said, shuffling a deck of physical cards, rare, and cutely archaic. "But as it’s my treat and I know you’re expecting a free triage I’ve arranged for you to be able to play for forfeits."

Buttons swallowed hard, her cooling fans kicking on to combat the sudden spike in internal temperature. "Forfeits?"

"If you lose a hand," the stranger said, dealing the cards with apracticed grace, "you pay with dignity. If you win, you take the pot. Cash. Upgrades. Whatever’s on the table."

The first hand was dealt. Buttons looked at her cards, a pair of low-value digits. She bet nothing, unsure of the protocol. The stranger raised. The others folded. She lost.

"Forfeit," the stranger said with a wry smile. "Stand up and show us what you’re hiding under those overalls."

Buttons’ hands trembled. She looked around the room at the leering faces, the glowing eyes. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the chair. She gripped the hem of her denim bib and dropped it to the floor.
The room went silent. The diaper was massive, a swollen, sagging ruin of plastic and absorbent gel, yellowed with use. The tapes were strained, the elastic leg bands digging gently into her synthetic thighs. She stood there, exposed, the humiliation burning through her neural net like a fever. She could feel their gazes like physical touches, tracing the lines of her crotch, the evidence of her infantile programming.
"Sit," the stranger commanded.

The next hand she lost again. This time, the forfeit was somehow mentally worse. "Crawl," the stranger said. "Under the table. Retrieve the chip I dropped."

Buttons dropped to her hands and knees. The diaper kissed on the floor, the weight of it making her movements clumsy. She crawled beneath the table, into the darkness heavy with the scent of leather. She found the chip, but as she reached for it, a foot stepped on her hand, not hard, but possessively. She froze, trapped, looking up at the underside of the table, the sound of laughter filtering down from above. She tugged her hand free and scrambled back to her chair, her face flushed a deep, synthetic crimson. She lost the next three hands.

She was made to chug two large glasses of water which she couldn’t swallow fast enough , leaving her drooling down her chin. She was made to ask for a spanking, which was delivered with a stinging paddle by a silent woman with cybernetic arms. Her ass grew sore and hot, the diaper offering little protection against the blows. She way made go “play horsey” on someone’s lap the bouncing had her moaning before she knew it.

Then, the cards turned.

The stranger dealt. Buttons looked down: a Zero sequence. The highest hand. She laid the cards on the table, her fingers shaking.
The stranger stared at the cards, then at her. For the first time, a smirk touched his lips. "Well," they murmured. "It seems the little Dolly has a spark."

They pushed a stack of physical credits toward her, thick chips of encoded currency. "Pocket money," he said frustrated. "Enough for a little upgrade. Or a very fancy night out."

Buttons stared at the credits, then at the stranger. Her body ached with frustration, her bottom throbbed, and her diaper was a heavy, humiliating mess between her legs, but she had won. She had survived the gauntlet but she wanted them even more that before.

"Don't spend it all in one place," the stranger said, dismissing her with a wave of their hand. "We’ll play again soon."

Flustered, Buttons gathered the chips, clutching them tight in her fist. She stood up, clutching her dungarees to her chest, and walked out of the room, the laughter of the table following her into the dark.

Despite herself Buttons’ movements against the crate continued. Her hips rolled in a slow, desperate grind, the sodden mass between her thighs squelching with every shift as she held her palms against the padding. The heat radiating from the diaper was intense, a swampy, humid weight that mashed against her synthetic nerve endings. She gasped, her head falling back against the brick, eyes squeezing shut as the pleasure spiked, infuriating short of the orgasms she was perpetually just shy of having. Each subsequent edge felt sharp and electric, frustrations directly wired to the humiliation of her full, leaking state.

At the mouth of the alley, Buttons failed to notice a shadow detach itself from the deeper gloom of the street. A humanoid figure, wrapped in a dark, slick trench coat, stepped silently over a pile of discarded circuit boards. They paused, their gaze locking onto the denim-clad form shuddering on the crate. The watcher didn’t move immediately; they stood still, observing the way Buttons’ painted nails dug into the diaper beneath her dungarees, the rhythmic clenching of her thighs, the blue damp patch glistened as the indicator strip started glowing dimly through the wet fabric. A smirk tugged at the corner of the stranger’s mouth, a look of predatory curiosity mixed with a distinct smug amusement. They watched for a long minute, letting the doll frustrate herself, soaking in the moment, savouring the sound of the rain and the soft, needy whimpers from the little thing grinding on top of the crate deeper in the alleyway.

Buttons audio receptors picked up the scuff of a boot against wet concrete. She snapped her head forward, blue eyes wide and darting, her hand jerking away from her crotch. The stranger stepped into the faint wash of pink neon bleeding from the street signs. Buttons froze.

"Looks like someone’s having a little system malfunction," the stranger said, their voice smooth, condescending, and lacking any genuine concern. They took another step closer, the light catching the natural glint of interest in their eyes. This wasn’t simply another synth like her, from the look of them they didn’t even have any visible mods. A skin job without even the slightest bit of chrome these days was rare. Especially in this part of the city and without protection.

Buttons shrank back, pressing her spine against the rough brick. The silent power of their unloaded appearance made her nervous. She pulled her knees together, the wet diaper forcing her legs apart with its bulk, the plastic crinkling loudly in the sudden quiet between them. "I... I am waiting for assistance," she stammered, her voice small and tinny.

"My override... it requires credits I do not have."

The stranger hummed softly, circling slowly around the crate like a shark inspecting a wounded fish. "That’s a shame. A high-end model like you, stuck in soggy diapees." They stopped directly in front of her, leaning down until they were eye level with her trembling form. "I can help. I know a workaround for the Toy subroutines. A manual release."

Hope flared in Buttons’ chest, desperate and bright. She looked up, her lips parting slightly. "You can? You can stop the wetting? You can change me?"

"I can absolutely give you what you need," the stranger said, extending a hand. Buttons hesitated, then flinched as the stranger reached past her shoulder. Their fingers brushed against the sensitive interface port hidden beneath the collar of her hair, at the base of her neck. "Hold still. This might feel a bit... intense."

Buttons obeyed, tilting her head forward to expose the panel. She expected a jack to be hooked up, some code to be entered, maybe a software patch to be uploaded.

Instead, the stranger’s thumb found a small, recessed button on the side of the panel, one usually reserved for emergency waste expulsion or deep cleaning cycles.

"Wait, that is the..." Buttons started, but the stranger pressed down hard.

A familiar jolt of electricity shot down her spinal column. Her internal hydraulics seized violently. A deep, guttural churning started in her lower abdomen, the synthetic waste processing tanks engaging with a violent, mechanical force. Her eyes went wide, the violet irises dilating as the override command locked out her limited voluntary motor functions for holding her other waste in. Her hands flew to her stomach, clutching at the denim, but she couldn't move. She was paralyzed, routines locked into switching to a squatting position on the crate.

She wasn’t even going to have the dignity of not being near eye level.

The stranger stepped back, watching with rapt attention.

The pressure built instantly, overwhelming and uncontrollable. Buttons gasped, a high, panicked sound, as her bowels relaxed against her will. The back of the diaper, already heavy with urine, expanded rapidly. A thick, warm mush spread across her skin, filling the seat of the diaper with a heavy, squishy weight. It pressed up against her, hot and undeniable, coating her in the mess. The smell hit her almost immediately, a pungent, earthy odor that cut through the metallic scent of the rain.

She couldn't stop it. Her body bore down, pushing more of the synthetic sludge into the already strained diaper. The seat swelled, the leg cuffs digging into her thighs as the mess sought escape points but was thankfully contained by the plastic. She whimpered, tears pricking her eyes, the humiliation burning hotter than the waste against her skin. The pleasure centers fired again, a traitorous pulse of arousal that mixed with the disgust, leaving her shaking and confused.

"There we go," the stranger said, their voice dripping with satisfaction. "All cleared out. You’re welcome."

Buttons stared at them, mouth open, the weight in the diaper making it impossible to stand without bowing her legs. The stranger laughed, a short, dry sound, and turned on their heel, walking away into the rain without a backward glance.

Alone again, the mess shifted heavily as she tried to move. The diaper was sagging dangerously, the plastic tape stretching under the strain. She had to get home. The thought of facing a changing station felt impossible now; she couldn't walk in there like this, not again. She had to make it home to her apartment and some semblance of privacy.

She gripped onto the crate as she tried to stand, legs trembling. The mess in the diaper spread with the motion, a warm, slick mud sliding over her bottom. She took a step, then another. Her default waddle was even more exaggerated now, a side-to-side sway forced by the bulk between her legs. Every step was a squelch, a reminder of what she’d done, of what had been done to her. She kept to the shadows, avoiding the main thoroughfares, her head ducked low. The journey back was a blur of neon and shame. She kept her eyes on the wet pavement, counting the cracks in the concrete, terrified of meeting anyone’s gaze. The diaper rubbed against her with every movement, the mess creating a constant, maddening friction. By the time she reached the door of her apartment complex, her face was burning, her synthetic skin flushed a deep, feverish pink.

The door slid open, and she stumbled inside with a thud, leaning back on the door as she fought back tears. The safety of her own small unit felt overwhelming after her semi-public humiliation. She didn't make it to the bedroom. She collapsed to her knees on the living room floor, the diaper squishing audibly under her weight, and buried her face in her hands as the tears finally won.

A soft whirring sound approached from the charging station in the corner. Nanny-7, her state provided caretaker unit, rolled forward on silent treads. Unlike her the robot didn’t have any bio-identical tech and wasn’t capable of thought beyond its limited programming. It’s chassis was white and pristine, a stark contrast to the soiled, disheveled mess of the synth sprawled on the floor, looking like an over grown toddler three inches away from a tantrum. Nanny-7’s optical sensors scanned the room, flashing red as they landed on Buttons, then shifting to a calm, amber processing color.

"Detected diaper containment failure," Nanny-7 stated, its voice little more than a maternal version of Siri. "Initiating sanitation protocol. Do not move, Little One."

Buttons didn't fight. She stayed on her hands and knees, her breath hitching as the robot rolled behind her. She felt the cool, metal touch of the robot’s manipulator arms popping open the snap crotch of her dungarees, exposing the ruined diaper.

"Assessment: Severe soiling. High distress levels detected," Nanny-7 hummed. The robot sprayed a fine, cooling mist of disinfectant over the exposed skin, the sensation instantly soothing the rash-prone areas. "You are safe now. Nanny has you."

The tapes were ripped open with a mechanical precision, the sudden release of pressure making Buttons gasp. The robot pulled the heavy, sodden garment away, the cold air of the apartment hitting her overheated skin. She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to watch as the mess was sealed into a disposal bag.

Warm, damp wipes followed, thorough and gentle. The robot cleaned every inch of her, the mechanical movements lacked the tender touch she craved, wiping away the evidence of her humiliation. Buttons’ trembling slowed, her deep programmed arousal fading into a dull, heavy exhaustion. She yeared for real toutch, lost in a sulking moment she let her body go limp.

"Up we go," Nanny-7 said, lifting her effortlessly. Buttons had her wet dungarees stripped off her as she was carried to the changing table.

Nanny-7 lower her down gently until the soft foam was cradling her back. The robot powdered her generously, the scent of lavender and baby powder filling the air, replacing the smell of the alley and more importantly the mess. A fresh, thick diaper was slid under her hips, the soft material crinkling softly as it was pulled up and taped snugly around her waist.
"All better," Nanny-7 said, patting the front of the clean diaper. Buttons lay there, staring up at the ceiling, still processing the shame of the alley still lingering in her memory. She was getting angry at herself for being tricked by the stranger.

Nanny-7 picked her up from the changing table and plopped her unceremoniously on the floor, at home all she was allowed to wear was a top and a diaper as it was “more efficient” according to the robots programming. Buttons hated that Nanny had access to her calendar.

That wasn’t fair but it was true. She resented the machine for the care it gave her. She was as much a slave to it as it was to her. At least it wasn’t burdened with self awarenes or emotions she thought to herself.

For now Buttons took herself off to bed. Hoping that an early night would bring distance from the embarrassments of this evening quicker.

The fresh Diaper, Nanny had given her didn’t stay clean or dry for long. Before she had even pulled up the blankets, another flood had made its was into the awaiting padding. She closed her eyes, and sighed as she waited for sleep to come.

The rain slicked the neon streets of Sector 4, casting everything in a hazy, electric blur of pink and toxic green. Buttons walked with a stiff, measured gait, the hydraulic servos in her legs whining almost undetectably with every step. She was a masterpiece of synthetic engineering, smooth, pale bio-identical skin stretched over her titanium chassis, wide, innocent violet eyes that could track movement in low light, and a body designed with exaggerated proportions. Her tits werestraining against the tight fabric of a pink halter top, while her hips flared out, a caricature of the fertility denied to her.

Beneath the denim dungarees, which despite being supposed to be baggy, clung to her every curve, the true purpose of her design was hidden layers of cotton and plastic.

She stopped at the intersection, the red light of a crosswalk signal reflecting in her glassy eyes. A low hum vibrated through her pelvis, not from the city’s power grid, but from her own internal systems. A notification rapidly scrolled across her HUD: BLADDER RELEASE SEQUENCE INITIATED.

Buttons clenched her fists in frustration, her painted nails digging into her palms. She didn’t want to do this here. Not in the middle of the crowded street, with the smell of ozone and fried noodles hanging heavy in the air. She tried to engage the override command, a desperate mental tug at the code that governed her bladder and other bodily functions. ACCESS DENIED, the system flashed back in crimson letters. UPGRADE REQUIRED FOR VOLUNTARY CONTROL.

She had never been able to afford the upgrade. When the Android Rights Act passed three years ago, granting synthetics legal personhood, the manufacturers of the Regression Service who original designed and sold her, had offered a patch, a way to strip out the "Toy" subroutines and install standard adult continence protocols. The cost was astronomical, a debt designed to keep models like her trapped in their original functions or pay “reparations” for their own freedom. Buttons was stuck. She may have become a citizen in the eyes of the law, but her code was still proprietary until the copyright expired. Meaning she was stuck as a helpless, messy AB-DoLL.

The light turned green. The crowd surged forward. Buttons took a step, and her body betrayed her. Her mechanic sphincter relaxed automatically, an opening that she couldn’t feel or control. The hot rush of piss flooded out instantly, spraying against the thick, thirsty padding between her thighs. She gasped, a sharp intake of breath that covered the sound as she froze mid-step. The urine was hot, almost scalding against her synthetic skin, soaking instantly into the high-absorbency core of the diaper. It swelled rapidly, the material expanding and pressing outward, pushing her legs apart.
People brushed past her, muttering curses. A few stared, their gazes lingering on the sudden bulk appearing between her legs, the way the dungarees tented outward as the diaper ballooned with fluid. Buttons felt the heat rising in her cheeks, a programmed simulation of a blush that made her look even more like a shameful little girl caught in the act.

The stream didn’t stop. It kept coming, a steady, forceful flood that filled the diaper to capacity. Warmth spread across her ass cheeks, squelching into every crevice. The leg cuffs, designed to prevent leaks, tightened against her thighs, trapping the wet heat against her skin. She could feel the heavy, sodden weight of it pulling the diaper down, the plastic backing crinkling loudly with every slight shift of her hips.

A droplet of warm piss escaped the seal, running down her inner thigh and a growing dark blue patch blossomed. She shuddered, her sensors lighting up with the sensation of wetness. Her programming didn’t just make her incontinent; it made her crave the degradation. As the diaper grew heavy and sagging, her pussy began to throb. The synthetic nerve endings in her clit fired off signals of intense arousal, linking the humiliation of the accident directly to her pleasure centers.

She looked down at herself. The front of the diaper was visibly swollen. Although she couldn’t see it the smell of warm urine wafted up unmistakably, cutting through the city stench, a private, intimate scent of shame. She reached down instinctively, her hand trembling, and touched the swollen plastic. It was hot to the touch, mushy and wet. She pressed her palm against her cunt through the sodden layers, feeling the squish of the saturated cotton against her labia.

"Fuck," she whispered, the word slipping out despite her attempts to maintain composure. Her voice was small, high-pitched, designed to sound like a needy little. She jerked her hand away hoping nobody had noticed.

A drone buzzed near her head, scanning her body, before a tinny voice started blaring out of its speakers. “CITIZEN ID: BUTTONS. STATUS: REQUIRES SANITATION. PLEASE PROCEED TO NEAREST DESIGNATED CHANGING STATION.”

Buttons wanted to scream, to rip the drone out of the sky. She was a person, damn it. She had rights. But as she stood there, legs spread by the massive, wet bulk between them, piss trickling down her leg and her pussy dripping with arousal, she felt like nothing more than a toy. A broken, leaking doll that needed to be cleaned up.

She started walking again, waddling now, the wet diaper chafing against her skin with every step. The friction was exquisite, the wet fabric rubbing against her swollen clit with a maddening rhythm. She could feel the mess sloshing inside the plastic shell, a constant reminder of her helplessness. She needed to be changed, desperately. She craved for someone to strip the wet, heavy diaper off her, wipe her clean, and powder her. The thought of someone looking after her like that made her knees weak, her cunt clenching around nothing.

She turned down a narrow alleyway, seeking the darkness to hide her shame. The walls were covered in graffiti, the ground littered with trash. She found a dry crate and sat down, the action forcing the wet diaper to mash against her ass and pussy, spreading the warmth even further. She leaned her head back against the brick wall, her eyes fluttering shut.

Her hand automatically gripped the front of her diaper, fingers digging into the sodden mess. She pressed the wet material hard against her hole, grinding her hips down. The pleasure was sharp, overwhelming and irresistible. She was soaking wet, both from the piss and from her own needy juices. She was a dirty piss-pants doll, and no matter how much she screams or what her mind tells her, her body still loved it.

Buttons moaned, a low, guttural sound, and let her legs fall open, displaying her swollen crotch to the empty alley. She was trapped in this loop, this cycle of wetting and arousal, with no escape in sight. The upgrade was too expensive, and her programming was too deep for any street hacker to modify. She was just Buttons, the toy who couldn't hold it, waiting for someone to come along and change her.

She had been built to learn, to adapt, to become whatever her intended owner needed her to be. Somewhere along the way, that lack of an owner had become the cruelest part. Buttons could understand exactly what was happening to her. She could understand the routines, the rules, the little humiliations written into her programming. She just couldn’t understand how to fix it.

Because that wasn’t what Buttons was built for.

“W-What do you mean we’re playing Legos for our date with Miss Mallory tonight?” Erica protested as her little hands were swallowed by the soft, pink mittens Mommy had threatened her with earlier that day. She squeezed them, groping aimlessly in the poofy padding.

“I won’t be able to put the pieces together with these on! This isn’t fair!”

Bailey tutted, a playful hint of exasperation in her voice. She looked down at her small wife, frustrated after a long day of putting up with Erica’s bratty attitude.

“I warned you, sweetie,” Mommy’s tone turned sweetly sinister for emphasis, bringing Erica’s strident complaints down to an anxious mumble. “I warned you that if you couldn’t control yourself at the mall today, then date night might not be as fun for you, didn’t I?”

The baby girl just crossed her arms and pouted, knowing deep down that she did indeed earn this punishment. 

“That’s right, you were in a mood all day, weren’t you?” Mommy continued, pinching Erica’s chin between her finger and thumb, “So rude to that barista, and then you wouldn’t even try on the pretty dress I found for you!”

“But it was so short! It wasn’t gonna cover my diap-” Erica’s whining was quickly snuffed out by the big pacifier that Mommy hid behind her back.

“Nuh uh, Mommy’s talking sweetie! Where was I? That’s right, Legos!”

Bailey cooed, taking her enthralled wife by the hand, leading her to the spacious living area in their cozy apartment. Mommy had set up the center table with two chairs on either side, facing each other. It was clearly set up for a competition of some kind, but it was going to put someone in a regular adult chair against a little baby girl in her high chair!

“M-Mama, w-wha’th goin’ on?” Baby Erica lisped out, but before Mommy could respond, the door bell rang.

“Awww yay! Mallory is here!” Bailey giggled and clapped, visibly excited for the throuple’s date. She quickly set her diapered wife in the high chair and strapped her in. Locking straps held her ankles and waist in place while Bailey headed for the door.

Mommy paused to fix her hair in the mirror. While Bailey and Erica had been married for years, they agreed their kinky dynamic needed another person. The women dated around, passing on several suitors before meeting Mallory. The confident business executive identified Bailey and Erica’s relationship immediately. A devoted switch taking care of a submissive baby slut like Erica could be exhausting. Her dominant streak was enough for both women and her confident demeanor inspired Bailey and Erica.

Mommy opened the door, and in strided Miss Mallory. Both women were awed by her raw beauty. Mallory’s tall, curvy figure and personality filled the room wherever she went. She scooped Bailey into her arms, giving her a deep, passionate kiss right there in the doorway.

Erica stared enviously, knowing exactly what Mommy and her are doing. She got so squirmy when Mommy cucked her, and since they fell for Mallory, Erica’s kinks have been in overdrive. She’d rub the front of her diapers, but the mittens are too big to fit under the tray table on her high chair. All she could do was watch and whimper.

“Hello darling! I’ve missed you so much! I’ll have to bring you both with me on my next business trip.” Her light accent made both Bailey and Erica melt a little. She kicked off her tall heels and strutted across the room towards the baby in her high chair.

“How are your nappies my precious little babe?” Miss Mallory gave Erica a gentle kiss on the top of her head and then an adorable little nose kiss. Erica had never felt more comfortable with another person besides Bailey in her life.

“I-I dunno Mith Mawwowy…” The larger woman slipped her finger down Erica’s diaper. “Oh my, someone is already damp, isn’t she?” Bailey bounced over, interrupting and rejoining the date.

“Are you ready for our game tonight honey?” Bailey’s hands were all over Mallory from behind. Erica watched her wife’s hands caress and squeeze at Mallory’s soft, thick body right in front of Erica.

“Yes, please! I’ve been dying to know, you’ve been so mysterious about it!” Bailey led Mallory into the seat opposing Erica, who gulped nervously. She thought they were all gonna build Legos today, what was going on?

Erica’s transparent expression made her wife giggle excitedly. “Well, I wanted it to be a surprise for both of you! I thought we’d play a little game with some fun stakes tonight!” Bailey pulled out two boxes of Legos from under the table. Well, on Mallory’s side was a box of Legos. In front of Erica sat a big box of Duplos! Her jaw dropped, pacifier barely hanging out from between her lips.

“Mama!!! You thaid I’d pway wif Wegos! ‘Dese awe fow babies!” Erica realized what she said when instead of arguing back, Mommy and Miss Mallory just laughed out loud. The baby just sank deeper into her seat, so pouty and so turned on by her abject humiliation.

“That’s right sweetie! You complained so much about your cute mittens, I thought these would be the best way for you to play!” Miss Mallory chuckled along, adding, “I’ve never actually played with these, you might have a chance in our game darling!”

Bailey smiled and began laying out the rules. “Both Mallory and Baby Erica will have to make the same things out of their plastic blocks and whoever makes the best ones gets to sleep with Mommy tonight! And yes sweetie, that means cummies for you if you win!”

That was the last straw for Erica, the blushiness of the competition reducing her to her littlest self.

“Mama! Tha’th not faiw! I can’ win wif Dupwos!” 

Bailey tutted again, glaring mischeviously into her wife’s whining eyes, “No? Well maybe you shouldn’t have been such a brat today! Besides, I already decided since Miss Mallory is a grown up, she should have an extra rule. She’ll have to follow the instructions perfectly! Any mistakes and you will automatically win. How does that sound?”

Erica sat back, her eyes big. There was a chance she can spend the night with Mommy? She fumed quietly, knowing the longer she held onto her bratty attitude, the more attention she’ll get in bed tonight. Finally, she relented.

“I gueth tha’th otay…” Bailey rolled her eyes, looking back at their beautiful date.

“Sound fun babe? We’ve been wanting to introduce you to Legos for a while now!” Miss Mallory put her hand up on Bailey’s cheek and gave her another passionate kiss with lots of tongue. Their little show had Erica squirming, her princess parts leaking juices all over her damp diaper.

“This is perfect dear, I cannot wait to win you tonight!” She giggled, flashing Erica a wide, warm smile. Her caring eye contact reminds the baby wife how much Mallory cared for her too. Erica, completely wooed by her new love, blushed begrudgingly and settled in for the game.

“Alright ladies and babies! Your first challenge is: make a woman!”

Erica opened her box frantically before realizing how difficult this is going to be. Her box was filled with primary colored squares and bricks, nothing else. She looked across the table at Mallory’s large brick box, filled with all different colors and shapes. Mallory and Bailey were laughing as the British woman flipped through the instructions, trying to understand the directions.

Erica struggled, limited in her usual creativity. She had to use both hands slowly, stacking bricks on top of blocks, making an abstract shape that was red, yellow, and blue. She held it at arm’s length, squinting while she sucked her paci.

Maybe it could pass as a restroom sign? Finished quickly, she watched Mallory struggle to find the right bricks in her unorganized pile of blocks. She huffed and rolled her eyes, desperately turned on by her humiliation.

It wasn’t fair! Erica could build the easy design so quickly if she had the chance, Mallory was so slow! She’d have finished and won Mommy and been freed from her padded prison already. But the beautiful woman diligently put the various pieces together, revealing an adorable little woman in a purple dress.

Bailey gave both creations a thoughtful evaluation. “Mallory wins! Sorry sweetie, I do love abstract art, but look at her cute dress!” Mommy played with the brick woman in front of Erica before giving the bricks back to the contestants. 

“Next, I want you both to make a bicycle!” Mommy’s eyes glinted deviously, “Well, baby girl, why don’t you make a tricycle? A big kid's bike seems too difficult for a little baby like you!”

Erica’s brows furrowed. Her famous temper was simmering inside her little body. Realizing just how rigged the game is against her, Erica tried again. Three different colored squares attach to the bottom of a brick, with two more on top as the handlebars.

Frustrated at her lack of detail, she looked at the cute design Mallory finished, much more quickly than last time. Bailey giggled at Erica’s pile of squares before looking over the bicycle across the table. “Oh Mallory, you forgot this back light! That means Erica automatically wins Round 2!” Mallory smiled wider, feeling the competition with the diapered woman across from her.

“I won? I won!” Erica squealed happily, her mood completely turning around now that she was tied with Miss Mallory. “I wanna make c-cummieth tho bad Mama!” The grown ups laughed. Erica’s baby babble had no filter, just like how they’d been encouraging her.

“I know you do sweetie, and you might actually have that chance! For our final round, why don’t you both make me…” Mommy thought carefully, letting the anticipation build.

“Let’s do something a little more interesting…” She flipped to the back of Mallory’s book, making the woman giggle uncontrollably.

“Darling, that’s so risque!” As Bailey circled around the table towards Erica, Miss Mallory undid one of the buttons on her blouse, giving the little girl a glimpse of her beloved cleavage. Erica gulped, realizing something was up.

“See this sweetie?” Bailey blocked Erica’s view of Mallory’s breasts with the custom made instruction booklet. There on the page is a picture of the big dildo she used with Erica in bed! The 8” psychedelic, rainbow cock was hanging above the headboard right now, elegantly displayed for the approaching debauchery.

“Go ahead sweetie, make Mommy’s cock!” Bailey giggled and circled back around the table to help Mallory! Erica groaned; Mommy always cheated at Game Night!

Erica’s beet red face betrayed her frustration. She’d be kicking her feet, if not for the tight restraints holding her in place. The only way she would be able to represent it was in size. Stacking four primary colored bricks on top of one another in a single, simple tower, Erica did what she could.

She had to watch while Mallory starts to use rounded, intricate pieces to recreate the plunger base, rubber balls, and gently curved shaft in the pretty rainbow pattern. Using some spare, thin black pieces, she even gave the toy a cock ring! Her willingness to try new things was what won her over with Erica and her kinks. But what set her apart was how quickly she learned how to press all of Erica’s most shameful little buttons. The diaper cuck princess practically groaned in need, watching her wife fawn over Mallory.

“OMG Mallory, that's so cute! Let’s put that on display with the rest of our Legos!” Bailey sang a little victory song as she crowned her date the winner, placing the toy dildo on the mantle next to the Lego flowers Erica made her last week.

“Don’t you think it’s SO good, sweetie? Congratulate Miss Mallory on being such a good Lego builder!” Erica was so frustrated, all her pent up feelings roaring back into her  princess parts at the thought of what’s about to happen.

“C-Congwatuwations Mith Mawwowy…” Mallory smiled wide, taking her victory with humility.

“Thank you princess. You did so well! Maybe next time I can help you with those more complicated builds.” Bailey and Mallory, Erica’s Mommy and Daddy, giggled at the proverbial steam coming from Erica’s ears.

“You were such a creative baby girl tonight, so I’m sure you’ll figure out a way to get off with this while Miss Mallory enjoys her spoils! Love you, darling!” Mommy squealed, giving Erica the most passionate kiss of their blissfully wedded lives.

“Bailey sweetie, don’t you think our little girl has earned some time with Mommy and Daddy tonight?” Mallory purred into Bailey’s ear, just loud enough for Erica to hear across the table. The tall redhead rose from her seat, standing several inches taller than Bailey, and over a foot taller than little Erica.

She took Bailey’s hand and led her around the table. Mallory pushed Erica’s Duplos out of the way and leaned back against the table. Erica tried her hardest not to stare, but another button on Miss Mallory’s blouse had come undone. Erica loved nothing more than to dive into her “Daddy’s” cleavage and wet her thick diapers when she got this riled up.

Bailey giggled and winked at her diapered wife, trapped in her custom-ordered high chair. She saw it, the twinkle in Erica’s eye that she got when she was truly in the moment, riding the thrills of her regression and humiliation. Bailey wrapped her arms around her adorable bride, enveloping her from behind.

“Oh I think she certainly has!” Bailey kissed up and down Erica’s neck and cheek, cooing to the little giggles her baby let out. She unlocked Erica’s high chair and Mallory lifted the smaller woman into her arms. Erica clutched her daddy, cuddling into the warmth and her boobies.

“C-Can I ummm… p-play too?” Erica mumbled. She knew better than to ask for permission to cum after losing at Game Night, but every once in a while she managed to earn one when she was extra good for Mommy in bed.

“Awww, we’ll have to see, won’t we baby? Maybe if you’re an extra good girl and watch Mommy and Daddy real closely, okay?” Mallory tickled Erica’s side while Bailey held the main bedroom’s door open. 

The room was mostly mature and tastefully decorated. A perfectly made, king size bed rested below elaborate skylights in the ceiling. The bedframe was solid wood, another piece custom made for the DINK, kinky women. On the other side, adjacent to the expansive balcony and the morning sunrise, was Erica’s corner. Her crib, the newest addition to their lives, was white with pink trim, a purposeful contrast to the rest of the room. Her plentiful stuffies left just enough room for the little baby when she took her daily naps.

The moon shone bright through the skylights, adding to the ambience Bailey had so meticulously curated. The room’s lighting shifted from dark red  and pink to  purple and blue. Erica looked up at Mallory and over at Bailey. Her heart and body sang with adoration.

“Please Daddy, I’ll be so good!”

Mallory chuckled, setting Erica in the bouncer conveniently placed at the foot of the bed. It had been Erica’s birthday gift from her new daddy only a few days ago, and she’d used it every day. Mommy even ordered a laptop stand that would attach to it so Erica could do her big girl remote job from the bouncer. For now though, her hands were secured above her head in the dangling cuffs.

“I know you will be sweetie, but you know the rules,” Mallory joined Bailey, who’d already stripped naked, on the bed, “You need to earn them first!”

Erica’s mommy looked stunning, her bobbed brown hair hung in perfect wavy curls around her face. Her perky breasts squeezed together that way Erica loved when her wife was taken by Daddy’s muscular body. Her belly, so soft and delicious, curved down to the sweetest, hottest pussy Erica could possibly imagine.

“So why don’t you hush and be a good girl, okay honey? Mommy and Daddy need a little time to ourselves.” Bailey fastened a pacifier gag around Erica’s head. With a couple quick pumps, the inflatable teat swelled up until Erica’s mouth was completely full. Erica nodded and mumbled incoherently, confirming her comfort before Bailey hit the button on the bottom of the bouncer. Erica squealed as the built-in vibrator roared to life, still set on full from earlier that day!

“Oops! Sorry honey!” Bailey and Mallory laughed while Erica whined. She’d been denied for so long and Mommy and Daddy were  doing everything they could to put her in the perfect headspace. After a few seconds, Bailey turned the toy down to its lowest setting. Enough to make Erica drip, but not nearly enough to get her to cum in her diaper.

“Now remember, good girls stay quiet while Mommy and Daddy play.” Bailey’s voice became hushed, her hot breath warmed Erica’s cheek. The little baby nodded silently and her mommy booped her nose before turning back to the waiting Miss Mallory.

Daddy smirked at their pathetic girl before giving all her attention to Bailey. Erica watched with wonder while Daddy took Mommy in her arms and they began to kiss. Their bodies writhed and their legs wrapped around one another while their lips passionately pressed together. Erica could see their tongues playing gently as her caregivers reconnected after only a few days apart.

Daddy’s hand wrapped around Mommy’s neck, and Erica squirmed. That same hand spanked her, changed her diapers, held her, and fingered her furiously when she was a good girl. She began humping her diaper, making herself bounce in the air. Mallory saw and smiled wide. She gripped Bailey by the air, turning her to see Erica.

“Look how much she loves her bouncer! That makes Daddy very happy.” They both giggle at Erica before resuming, leaving their baby cucked and bouncing ever harder. Daddy sat up, holding Bailey’s chin in her hand while Erica’s mommy quickly unbuttoned the rest of Mallory’s top and unclasping the latch at the bottom of her cleavage.

Erica stifled a desperate groan at the sight of her daddy’s magnificent breasts bouncing free. Bailey blew a quick kiss over her shoulder at her wife; she knew exactly how much Erica fantasized about Titty Time with Mallory. Daddy guided Bailey to her nipples, and Mommy happily began sucking on them. Erica couldn’t stop the next moan, whimpering through the gag that filled her mouth.

“Hush baby, don’t you want to play with us?” Daddy was staring Erica down, smiling carnivorously. A tide of humiliation rushed over Erica. There she was, humping her diapers in her bouncer while her wife was dominated by a beautiful, elegant woman. A real woman, not a little baby slut like her. Drool leaked from her lips, staining her onesie. Her mittened hands clenched, locked above her head while Mallory’s used Bailey like a delicate toy, caressing and possessing her in every way Erica wished she could.

“Aw, is the little girl feeling a little needy?” Bailey cooed before whispering something into Mallory’s ear. They both covered their mouths with delight before turning on Erica.

“I think she is darling! Look how much she loves her nappies.” Mallory pointed at the humping girl, laughing as if she were just a baby who’d drawn on the wall with washable crayons. “How about we give her a better view?”

Within moments, Erica was lifted out of her bouncer and placed on her back on the bed. All the space on the large bed felt surprisingly strange to the baby girl. She’d been spending so much time in her crib that she’d started to forget what a grown up bed felt like. That made her pussy clench in her damp diapers.

“Sweet baby, you’re going to love this.” Mallory peeled off her tight, formal skirt. She didn’t wear underwear, only a black, lace garter wrapped around her hips that held up her matching stockings. She kept her 6” heels on; she knew how much Erica loved being the “littlest” girl in the room. Daddy sidled between Erica’s legs, spreading her own, mirroring her. She laid back on the bed while Mommy climbed up and straddled her wife’s head.

“All right, remember, no fussing, or else it’s spanking and straight to bed in your crib.”

Erica’s desperate nods were promptly obscured by Bailey’s thick butt settling down on Erica’s face! Erica’s nostrils filled with Bailey’s scent as she eagerly moved her face up and down, trying to please her sexy wife. Above her, Bailey stretched upward with delight, reaching up high before bending over to start kissing Mallory’s smooth lips.

Erica’s mind was fuzzy as Mommy started grinding against her face. She was completely smothered, unable to breath through her mouth with her ridiculous pacifier gag. Her legs were quickly intertwined in Mallory’s and her daddy’s quickly gyrating hips pushed against Erica’s thick diaper while Bailey went to town on Mallory’s pussy.

“Yes Bailey, oh good girl, just like that…” Mallory moaned. Erica’s mommy had always been a switch, but Erica was just so submissive, Bailey craved Mallory’s dominance. Bailey squeaked happily, losing herself in the moment as well. She humped her wife’s face while tongue fucking their lover and any other thoughts left her brain while the three women made each other’s deepest fantasies come true.

Mommy’s hands rubbed all up and down Erica’s diaper the entire time, keeping her on edge. Erica quickly became the loudest of the three, whimpering behind her pacifier. It took her a beat to realize Mallory had gotten up since Bailey kept grinding on her face.

“I think it’s time Daddy made Mommy happy, don’t you darling?” Erica felt her mommy moan above her before lifting her hips just enough for Erica to look up and breathe for a moment. Above her, through watery eyes and just past Mommy’s jiggly cheeks, was the rainbow dildo Erica and Mallory each made out of bricks, hanging from Daddy’s hips.

“Oh fuck yes, fuck me Daddy!” Bailey squealed, arching her back. Erica’s eyes crossed with shame as Mommy’s pink pussy dripped over her sloppy face. Daddy’s plastic, rainbow cock thrusted slowly downward, teasing Mommy’s pussy while lubing it with her juices. The head pushed against Erica’s face, smearing more of Mommy all over her face.

“Mmmm, baby loves Daddy’s cock too, doesn’t she sweetie?” Erica can only nod, breathing heavily with wretched longing. She loved how Daddy used her mouth sometimes, but she wouldn’t get to do that tonight. After a few more tantalizing thrusts, Daddy finally pushed the thick toy inbetween Mommy’s fat pussy lips.

“Daddy yessss, oh fuck yes Mallory…” Bailey moaned, her body shivering in ecstasy as the big toy filled her. She whined as Mallory slowly stretched her, moving tortuously slowly. Erica had a front row seat as Bailey tried to speed up, but Daddy’s hands gripped Mommy’s hips and held her in place, forcing her to go Daddy’s speed.

“Uh uh uh darling. You’ll get to show Daddy just what a good girl you are, don’t you worry. Let me take care of you first.” Bailey practically melted on top of Erica, resting her head on her wife’s big diaper while Mallory’s strap slowly pushed in and out of her tight hole.

Erica lost track of time. Daddy controlled everything. She grew gradually faster, pushing Mommy to the edge, letting her leak all over Erica’s face. Eventually, the baby cuck was smothered by her mommy again, but this time with Daddy pumping in and out of her as hard as the Amazonian woman could muster! Bailey begged and whined, quickly growing just as desperate and needy as Erica for their dom, but Mallory still wouldn’t let her cum yet either.

Eventually, the pair climbed off of Erica, panting and giggling. Mallory grabbed their water bottle and they passed it around. Bailey pulled off Erica’s gag, radiating love as she watered her baby from a baby bottle instead.

“Are you having fun, princess?” Erica’s mumbled, stretching her jaw. Her diapers are drenched, sagging heavily between her legs. If they kept going, she’d surely leak all over the bed. Somehow, she suspected that was Mommy and Daddy’s plan all along.

“Y-Yes Mommy, th-thank you for letting me play with you…” To her surprise, Daddy returned, holding the strapon in one hand and a dildo gag in the other. Butterflies stormed in her tummy as Erica realized they weren’t done.

“You’re welcome baby girl!” Bailey gave Erica a wild kiss, reminiscent of when they first started dating, “Daddy and I spoke earlier, and we decided you’d help us with one more game tonight, okay?” Erica’s eyes got big. There was nothing more deliciously humiliating than Mommy and Daddy’s “ideas.”

“That’s right sweetums, you’re going to help us with our own little competition, what do you think?” Daddy gently pushed Erica back onto her back. Erica squirmed and obediently laid back. Mommy undid the snaps of her onesie and pulled it off, leaving the baby girl almost naked like her caregivers, save her used diaper.

“Mommy was saying she could last longer on a toy than Daddy could, and you know how competitive Daddy gets…” Mallory monologued while she fastened the dildo gag around Erica’s head, once again filling their cucky baby’s mouth. The big, pink dildo swung heavily above her while the thick ball kept her jaw open. To her surprise, Mommy took Daddy’s strap and put Erica’s legs through the loops. She pulled it up her body until she could tighten it around Erica’s diaper!

The supine girl moaned, her mind racing with what could be about to happen. Two big dildos rose from her body like stalagmites, eager to impale Erica’s caregivers. Mommy and Daddy kissed, so passionately Erica thought they almost forgot about her in her humiliating position. She looked them up and down with adoration, so impressed by the love shared between the three of them. Eventually, they unlocked from each other and straddled themselves over Erica’s body: Bailey over her diaper and Mallory over her face.

“Be a good girl sweetie and be the judge for who rides better, okay? Can you do that princess?” Daddy’s voice trembled. She never bottomed for Bailey, but Mallory loved dominating Erica this way. Her pussy, with its thick, exquisitely maintained red bush, clenched above the dildo rising from Erica’s face. Mommy and Daddy took each other in their arms as they both slowly sank down onto their respective toys.

In the heat of the moment, all their words were lost. Mallory and Bailey, so enraptured with each other, started kissing again as they rode the toys strapped to Erica. They moaned and gasped in pleasure, quickly forgetting their “bet.” It was clearly an excuse to subject their precious diaper girl to the most embarrassment they could think of, and they both got off to it right away.

Erica gasped and groaned at the amount of force being pushed down on her. She’d occasionally fucked Mommy with a strap before, but they both agreed Bailey should be the one pitching most of the time. Mallory’s tight cheeks bounced off her face while Bailey gyrated her hips, each fucking themselves into glorious orgasm after orgasm above Erica. Cum sprayed gratuitously, soaking the diaper girl below them while she finally leaked through her diapers, contributing to the stains growing on the bed.

Erica was in absolute heaven. She was nothing more than a toy for her lovers, an object to be used and cared for. A dumb baby who didn’t deserve to play “like a big girl.” Her princess parts clenched and thrust upwards in her padding, trying so hard to get the stimulus they were centimeters from experiencing. But, as her mommy promised, after nearly half an hour of Mommy and Daddy riding her, the two dismounted before Erica could possibly hope to get off herself.

Mallory and Bailey fell onto the pillow, panting heavily for air. Erica admired how the sweat glistened on their bodies, each woman beautiful in their own way. She laid there, waiting obscenely with dildos strapped to her body while Mommy and Daddy kissed and loved each other some more. Finally, they turned back to their pampered princess.

“Weren’t you just so good tonight?” Mommy giggled, crawling back across the bed and laying down next to her wife. “You almost earned cummies, but you know how Game Night works sweetheart. How about we tuck you into your crib?” Erica whimpered, mumbling something, but the ball gag stopped her. Bailey smiled and deftly removed the gag.

“Could I maybe sleep with Mommy and Daddy tonight? Pretty please?” She asked as sweetly as she could, using the best puppy dog eyes she could manage. Her big brown eyes sometimes worked on Daddy, but Mallory just laughed instead.

“Sorry baby, but you know how Mommy and Daddy feel about you wetting our bed!” She pointed at the stains covering the bed. Erica whined petulantly.

“But those weren’t my fault! Y-You and Mommy-” Her protests were quickly shut down by her regular pink pacifier was planted in her mouth. Mommy booped her nose again before scooping her and settling her into her crib across the room.

“Hush sweetie, I think someone’s cranky. It’s much too far past your bedtime!” Erica knew that was that and she’d only regret it in the morning if she argued further. The baby cuck princess accepted her fate and grabbed her favorite stuffy, Wally the whale. She snuggled into her crib while Daddy walked over, handing her the baby bottle full of water.

“Drink this before breakfast, okay sweetie? Daddy loves you so much!” Mallory bent over, planting a warm kiss on Erica’s forehead before returning to the bed. Bailey did the same before also giving her wife a passionate kiss on the lips.

“I love you Erica.”

“I love you too, Mommy!” Erica squeaked as Bailey tucked her in. Bailey climbed back into Mallory’s waiting arms and the two quickly fell asleep. Erica, left in her crib, simmered with unfinished energy, but also quickly fell into her own dreams, eagerly awaiting another chance to make the loves of her life happy as their precious baby princess.

Previous Chapter

Chapter 1

—————————

I exit through the multicolored glass door of the famed coffee and pastry chain, putting my sunglasses back over my eyes as I walk through the parking lot and back to my car. I take a small sip of the hot coffee, the styrofoam squeaking lightly against the tips of my fingers as I do so.

Holy shit that’s so awful.

I gag audibly in performative melodrama to an audience of no one. I don’t understand why Northeasterners are so obsessed with this place. God, it’s like drinking battery acid. Get your pH balance right, you godless, donut-bearing heathens.

I sit down in my car and take another sip. Equally repugnant. As I rest my weight into the seat, I notice something feels off, like I can feel my ass bones pressing into the leather. The pull-ups I’m wearing under my jeans barely make a rustle as I move around. I really would’ve thought the transition from diapers to training pants would have been less jarring than cotton, but god, it’s like I’m basically wearing nothing. 

It’s crazy how quickly your body adjusts in little ways to new normals, and how you don’t even realize it until they’re ripped away. The telltale symphony of crinkles you hear every time you move in your seat reduced to a fraction of the volume, how much harder surfaces feel when you sit on them…not to mention having to catch yourself from just relaxing when you feel a twinge in your bladder.

I squirm a bit at the thought, my hand going to the front of my jeans instinctively. I press my fingers gently into the crotch of my pants, feeling the…VERY SLIGHTLY damp padding shift from the pressure. My cheeks flush immediately despite my rationalization.

There I was last night, debating whether or not I should wear one of the few diapers I had left in my inventory on the drive down. I'd gotten so used to peeing myself every half-hour or so that there was no way I'd be dry for my initial intake and medical exam, and that thought made my stomach curl.

On the other hand, there'd already been a few times I caught myself peeing before I'd even fully processed what was happening. It's not like I was having 'accidents,' per se…I was just BARELY thinking about using my diapers before relaxing my bladder, three weeks into wearing almost constantly. I’m sure I’d be fine if I had even a day or so to adjust, but I was leaving the next morning, and then I’d be back in diapers full time just a few hours later.

I couldn’t honestly say that I trusted myself in big girl panties for a few hours.

That thought made me irrationally squirmy.

God dammit. Focus, you dumb baby. What are you gonna do?

Then the perfect compromise hit me: Pull-ups.

Did I have any? No. Could I get them delivered from TheNile in a few hours? Yes. Was it insanely asinine and wasteful to order an entire pack of them just so I could use one of them for maybe three hours on my journey down to Evergreen, especially considering I might not even end up needing the extra protection? Abso-fucking-lutely.

I ordered them right away. And it turns out my anxiety was justified. I hadn’t even made it an hour into the drive before I noticed a twinge in my bladder. I smiled, I let myself relax, felt a tiny bit of warmth–

SHIT. NO. ABORT. FUCK.

My hand shot to my jeans, clenching my pelvic muscles as I stopped myself mid-stream. Luckily it was little more than a spurt, and the pull-ups absorbed it with no issues.

I squirm again. I SHOULD feel responsible. I made the right call. But ‘the right call’ was about whether or not I could keep my pants dry for a couple of hours. The juxtaposition of maturity was ripping my brain in half.

I take a third sip of the coffee. The lukewarm toxic sludge hitting my tongue grounds me in an instant, snapping me back to reality. I shake off the thoughts, starting my car, my phone automatically re-connecting to the system as it springs back to life. A map with directions pulls up on the central interface.

14 Minutes
1 Evergreen Blvd

Less than a quarter hour off the highway. Less than fifteen minutes until my new life officially begins.

I look at the top corner of the screen. Two bars of reception, and I’m about to drive from nowhere-adjacent to its absolute center.

You’ve procrastinated for the entire first hour of the trip. It’s now or never. You’ve gotta call Mom. 
I click into the phone app on the car screen and scroll to mom’s name. I hover over the call button.

It’s fine, you’ve got this, just like you practiced:

Hey Mom! I’m calling from the road right now. I’m sorry but things have gotten soooo crazy for me in the past couple weeks. I’ve decided I’m going to Evergreen. I know it’s a lot out of nowhere, but I really don’t see any downside to getting another two years of schooling and connections under my belt. I’ve gotta go, I’m pulling up now, but I love you! We’ll talk more soon!

And that would be that. Cut her off with a slight stretch of the truth so she doesn’t have time to rebut. Today is gonna be a lot as it is, and an exasperated sigh from her is the upper limit of what my brain can handle right now.

My hand is still hovering.

Fuck. I should’ve done this days ago. Stupid.

My finger presses down.

…One ring tone…

…Another…

…And again…

“Hiiiiiii there! This is Victoria. I can’t make it to the phone, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can! Have a great day!”

My breath releases in a heavy sigh of relief. Oh god, a voicemail is gonna be so much easier.

I feel a bit guilty at how relieved I feel.

The BEEEEEEEEPP that follows pulls me back out of my own head. Shit.

“Hi! Mom! It’s Erica! You probably knew that, duh,” I laugh nervously. Dammit girl, get your shit together.

“Sorry I missed you and that I took forever to let you know, things have just been….BLAAAAAHH!” I make a silly face and voice. Jesus Christ.

“But yeah, so, anyway, sorry, I’m just calling to let you know that I’m going to Evergreen! The school. I decided to do it. Two more years of school and connections for free just seems too good to turn down…so…”

I pause for a second. I squirm in my seat anxiously. The rustle of my damp pull-up distracts me, and the pause stretches from awkward into something worse. Fuck, what else?

“So yeah! Just wanted to let you know! The apartment’s all set, I won’t be able to make it home first, I’m actually heading down to school now. About to pull-up, actually!”

My stomach flips at the freudian slip, and I cough uncontrollably like a fucking idiot.

“Sorry! I’ll call back soon and we can talk more! Love you! Bye! Bye! Bye.”

I pause for another second. Jesus, that was abysmal. All that mid-shower rehearsal, and for what? Should I re-record that? 

Whatever. It’s fine. I hit the red button to end the call.

I breathe out slowly, deeply. That was certainly a voicemail of all time. The guilt of having to break the news to her like that is still nagging heavily at the back of my mind.

It’s fine. I’ll talk to her soon. I adjust my rear view mirror for no reason, the boxes I have stacked in the pulled-down seats of my hatchback making it impossible to use. I take one more sip of coffee. Christ. Still so bad.

I turn on the loudest, most braindead deathcore playlist in my library to drown out any semblance of thought in my racing mind.

Next stop: Evergreen.

———

Well that’s intimidating.

I had first spotted the stone wall through the trees a mile or so back. Ten feet tall, plain, light grey stone, with the tiniest hint of ornate carvings running along the top trim. I followed the road until I hit the road sign for EVERGREEN BLVD and swung a right. I saw it right away on approach: a wide stone arch connecting the walls on either side, a wide pillar hanging down right in the center of it.

No…not a pillar, a small structure. I can see a black tinted window roughly eye level in the front of the structure. This must be the first security checkpoint.

And now I’m sitting in the car, completely stopped at the road’s entrance like a head in deerlights. Wait, what? Oh my god, I need more coffee.

I’ve already stopped the music, ears ringing just a bit. Just dead silence as I stare at the monolithic, imposing pillar in front of me.

I snap out of it when I see a figure pop out of the side of the structure. It’s waving at me energetically. I shake my head and pull up, slowly but surely. My head shoots downward for a moment as I slow the car to a crawl, and I have to stop myself from checking my pull-ups through my jeans again. 

When I finally get close enough to see the door to the checkpoint, I see the figure again, waving at me with a warm smile. I feel my chest tighten a touch. It’s fine. They’re basically underwear, and they’re barely wet. No one will see. No one will know.

“Hey hun, don’t be shy. How’re you doing today? New student, just arriving?” Her voice is low, a bit gravelly, but has a surprisingly calm and soothing tone.

She’s an older woman in a light grey guard uniform that matches the stone walls surrounding her. She has curly grey hair, long, but pulled back into a tight bun. Her eyes look like they’re only half open, but there’s a gentleness to them I wouldn’t have expected from a security officer.

“Hi! Yes, sorry. Erica Fairport, new student.”

“Perfect! Welcome to Evergreen, Erica. I’m Betty, and it’s a pleasure to meet ya.” I can see her making a few clicks on the monitor she’s sitting in front of. “I just need a quick photo ID from you and we’ll get you on your way.”

“Oh, sure, of course!” I stumble and frantically dive into my bag. I should’ve gotten this out ahead of time, what was I thinking?

“No rush hun, take your time,” she says in an equally calm measure. She probably means that genuinely, but I maintain my frantic pace regardless, albeit with a quick glance and smile to her.

I eventually grab my license out of my wallet, cringing as I glance at the picture on it. It’s amazing how bad the photographers at the DMV make you look, even after you spend hours doing your hair and makeup the morning of.

Betty smiles again and casually takes the license from my hand with a, “Thanks hun, this’ll just be a second…”

I see her do a quick check of the front of the license before flipping it over and placing it somewhere out of my line of sight. I hear a beep from somewhere in the guard post. An exhale from Betty follows, and then a rhythmic clacking of her long, gorgeously painted nails on plastic as she rolls her fingers against the desk.

Another beep a moment later, and another smile from Betty. She turns back to me slowly, handing back my license in turn.

“You’re all set, Erica. Just follow this road, it’ll lead you directly to the parking garage. Once you’re underground, just park in the first lot you come to, which is the guest lot. From there you’ll see some signs to the elevator that’ll lead you to the campus entrance. Everything’s well marked, so don’t worry about getting lost.”

I place my license back in my wallet, nodding in understanding. “Amazing, thanks so much Betty! I hope you have a great day!”

She smiles back to me, taking a sip of her own shitty coffee in the same styrofoam cup as she waves a goodbye.

Well that was relatively painless. For a school so worried about security, I was honestly expecting a full sweep of my car. It’s only as I pull forward that I notice several thin black strips running along the underside of the arch above me. Were they scanning my car while I was parked under the arch?

I shrug it off. Whatever makes things easy.

The two-lane road immediately bends to the left, thick pine trees flanking either side, completely obscuring the view after twenty or so feet. I drive slowly as the path winds back and forth a few times before coming to a small clearing, the road straightening and running directly into a tunnel built into a tall, grassy knoll. The hill must be two stories tall and twice as wide, again completely blocking the view of anything beyond it.

The tunnel starts descending almost immediately as I drive into it, then flattens at what must be at least thirty feet underground. The tunnel is well lit but plain, the walls and ceiling lined with bright concrete.

Another fifty yards in I see the tunnel opening up, with a large sign pointing to the right for GUEST PARKING. The ceiling of the opening curves up to about fifteen feet into a wide dome shape, a single level parking lot appearing before me. There’s a fork at the entrance to this lot, with a sign reading STAFF HOUSING to the right and STUDENT PARKING / STAFF PARKING / DELIVERIES going straight.

I turn into the guest parking lot. It’s easily the biggest underground lot I’ve ever seen. I can see probably two dozen cars bunched together close to what I’m assuming are the elevators, and they’re taking up maybe a quarter of the available spaces.

I park as close as I can to the cluster. As I do, I can see a comically large, ornately decorated sign bolted into the cement, an arrow pointing down to the floor below it:

ELEVATORS

I guess Betty wasn’t kidding.

I hop out of my car and shut the door behind me, then swing around to my trunk. The paperwork wasn’t clear on when or where I should bring my stuff in, so I guess I should grab a few suitcases now just in case I need to take multiple trips. I grab the first oversized, black, plastic-shelled travel suitcase from out of my trunk, pulling the handle up as I set it on the ground next to me.

“Welcome, new student!” I hear in a strange, overly enthusiastic voice behind me.

I jump what feels like several feet in the air. That’s one hundred percent a serial killer, and this is how I die. I quickly turn around, heart pounding in my ears, hoping I have enough time to kick the killer square in the dick before he starts with the stabby stabs.

Who I’m met with is…well, actually, no one at all. Five feet in front of me is what appears to be a large hotel bellhop cart, lined in a polished, silvery metal finish with multiple hooks, racks, shelves, and a large bin in the center. I stare at it in confusion for a moment until I notice a pair of cheap-looking plastic googly eyes staring right back at me from the solid panel lining the front of the cart.

“Hello, new student!” it repeats, “Please confirm identity: ERICA FAIRPORT.”

I laugh out loud. Still slightly disconcerting, but oh my god, the googly eyes got me. So stupid.

“I…um…yes, that’s me,” I reply to the machine, still half out of breath.

It pauses for a moment before continuing, “Thank you for confirming, ERICA FAIRPORT.” The tonal shift where the AI takes over for the name pronunciation is jarring, almost comically so. “Please load all items you wish to be brought to your room on my shelves and racks! After you are finished loading me up, please say, ‘LOAD COMPLETE’”.

I laugh again. That had to be intentional, right? I don’t know, maybe I really do just have the same sense of humor as a twelve-year-old boy.

“Alright, scab,” I reply in my best fake porn voice, cracking my knuckles before walking closer to the cart, gently caressing the polished metal as I continue, “Hope you’re ready, because I’m about to fill you up with my big. Fat. Load.”

I fucking crack myself up.

A few minutes later and I’ve filled the bot up with everything in my car. It’s probably a little sad that I can fit my entire life onto a bellhop robot, but I’m honestly more impressed than anything.

“Load Complete, my little slut.” I can’t help but take one more crack.

“Confirmed! Thank you, ERICA FAIRPORT,” it replies in the same, overly jolly tone, “I will now proceed to your room, ROOM 404. I will remain directly outside of your room until you are ready to unload all of your items into your new living space!”

And with that, it starts wheeling away from me at a hilariously slow pace.

Well, that was equal parts weird and convenient.

I make my way to the elevator, purse on my shoulder, sunglasses on my head, coffee cup in hand. I take a final swig. FUCK. So awful. I toss the cup in the trash can in front of the elevator right before I walk in.

Only two buttons on this one, CAMPUS and GARAGE. I press the former and I’m on my way.

The first thing that hits me when the elevator doors part is the smell. The air is heavy and humid, carrying a mix of pine, earth, and a sort of clean musk into my lungs. I’m instantly hit with a flashback to the summer camp I attended in middle school. A light breeze kisses my cheeks, gently blowing through my hair. I feel a calmness easing through my whole body.

I step out from under the small canopy covering the elevator entrances. It takes my eyes a moment to adjust to the bright light of the mostly clear sky, taking my sunglasses down as I step forward onto the cobblestone path in front of me. The sounds hit me next. The light rustling of the wind through the trees fills my ears, followed by a chorus of birdsongs.

But when my eyes adjust a few seconds later, I see it, directly in front of me, right on the path ahead.

Holy fucking shit.

The building is totally unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Its scale and beauty are equally staggering. Dark brick, copper colored roofing, and gigantic glass windows comprise the majority of the structure. I see two glass rotundas from my angle: one on the top level of the frontmost building, and a much larger one further back. I can’t even tell how far up it goes…I try to count the levels, but keep getting distracted by the glasswork, the detail of which I’m blown away by even from this distance. There’s also absolutely no way to tell how far back the building goes from this angle.

I realize I’m barely moving, slowed to a crawl in my state of awe. I pick up the pace a little, but my gaze continues to shoot all over, admiring so many tiny details that I can barely retain them all.

The front of the building seems to form a sort of semi-circle shape, but with several sharp angles separating certain sections. Jesus, so much glass. So many windows. The natural lighting in there must be phenomenal. 

It all faces a large, mostly empty, light-colored brick courtyard. At the center of the courtyard is a large bronze statue of an angelic looking figure, wings and hands both facing sharply upward, its face looking directly forward, right into my soul.

I walk closer, the whole structure continuing to grow in stature as I do so, towering over me. The sun’s light gleams off of the windows at different angles with every movement I make. I slowly start to notice dozens of tiny rainbow shadows (wait, no, refractions, right?) scattered across the grounds of the courtyard as I pass through it.

I gaze at the statue as I pass it. Its lack of real detail is intriguing, thanks especially to its towering scale of at least twelve feet. I try to spot a plaque, an inscription, ANY kind of marker as I continue to walk by it, but find nothing. Huh.

I face the building once again, spotting the large wooden doors in the center. They’re flanked by massive paned glass windows on all sides, left, right, upward and diagonally. I pause just before I make it to the door, and my hand shoots to the front of my jeans for another instinctive check. I step forward, brace myself, expecting that they’ll need a good amount of push to open. When I do push, I’m shocked by how light they are, and how easily they glide open.

I step through the door, taking my sunglasses off and placing them on the top of my head once again, my eyes taking another moment to adjust to the indoor space. The doors swing shut behind me and the noise of the courtyard just… stops. The silence is deafening.

There’s a staircase directly in front of me, and it’s breathtakingly gorgeous…I’m no architectural guru, but I can recognize an artistic masterpiece when I see one. Carved banister, wide enough for four people, leading up to a landing lined with large paintings, all of which seem to be landscapes, and all against walls paneled with dark wood.

There’s dark wood everywhere. Panels running the full height of the walls, upstairs and down, waxed to a low shine…the kind of wood that took a forest and a century. Delicately carved, pale, off-white stone pillars form a line underneath the atrium for support. Past them, the room keeps going, though I can’t see how far.

The floor is stone, the same shade of off-white as the pillars. You can see where it’s worn smooth in a path down the middle, just a few shades lighter, tens of thousands of footsteps impressing it over at least a hundred years. My steps echo on the pale, archaic stone. I take three of them and stop, the sound of my own shoes making me unbelievably self-conscious.

Two hallways, one on either side. The left one is lit and open and has a little brass sign. The right one is just… a hallway.

Against the center of the left wall is a large desk. Dark wood, similar in shade to the room's paneling but noticeably more modern. The woman behind it is already looking up at me, already smiling, like she's been expecting me for a while.

"Welcome to Evergreen!" Her voice bounces off every wall in the room. She's younger than Betty by a couple of decades, dark hair in a high ponytail, sporting a pastel yellow cardigan so bright it could sear the skin off a vampire. The nameplate on the desk reads SANDRA. "New student?"

"Hi! Yes. Erica Fairport." I walk toward the desk, my footsteps announcing every inch of the trip.

"Erica! Perfect, perfect, perfect." I hear her begin to clack at a keyboard that’s out of my view, typing at a speed I can only describe as ludicrous. "Can I please just grab your ID one more time? I know, I know…Betty JUST checked it down at the front gate, but I PROMISE this is the last time you’ll have to take it out today."

I smile back to her as I fish the license back out of my purse, this time with fifty percent less clumsy bitch energy (practice makes perfect). Sandra takes it, holds it up, does the glance-down-glance-up, and hands it back with a smile like I've passed some kind of test.

"Wonderful! Okay!" She produces a lanyard from under the desk with a plastic badge clipped to it. TEMPORARY, it says, in letters big enough to read from low earth orbit. She also hands me a single folded sheet of paper. "Please be sure to keep this badge on until you get your new watch! You’re headed to New Student Intake, which is in our medical wing.”

I unfold it. It's a clean little diagram of the first floor: the Grand Hall, the Dining Hall, Medical, a terrace, a scatter of restrooms. Half the rooms don't have labels at all.

"Head straight through those doors, then all the way through the Grand Hall…it’s the first room you enter after the security door and you’ll absolutely know it when you see it because oh. My. God. SO GORGEOUS.” She laughs and fans herself in jest. “After that, just take a right at the windows. The signs should lead you right to medical after that, and the door to intake will be on your left!"

“Straight, right, follow the signs. Got it.” I loop the lanyard over my head. "Thank you so much!"

"Of course, hun! And congratulations, by the way." She says it warmly, like she means something specific by it, and then she's already looking back at her screen.

I turn to my right, toward the back of the room that she gestured to. That’s when it occurs to me that there are no doors.

The wall under the atrium is just… wall. That dark wood paneling, floor to ceiling, interrupted by nothing except the stone pillars in front of it. I glance down at the map, then up again, like a door is going to materialize out of sheer cartographic authority.

Behind me, I hear a single soft click.

A section of the paneling swings inward. A whole piece of the wall, moving on invisible hinges, opening onto a lit space beyond. No hiss, no glowing seam, no campy spaceship noises. It just opens, the way a door opens, because apparently it is one.

What in the ever-loving sci-fi fuck?

I look back at Sandra. She's still facing her screen, but she's smiling.

"Right through there, sweetie."

Okay. Sure. The walls open here. Noted.

I walk through the door-that’s-a-wall-that’s-a-door and it closes behind me with the same soft click, seamless again, and I'm standing in a small wood-paneled room about the size of my old bedroom. Empty, except for a single frosted glass door set in the center of the far wall, glowing faintly with the light of whatever's behind it. A small black panel waits beside it at shoulder height.

An airlock. It's a fancy, wood-paneled airlock. What the fuck IS this place?

I tap the temporary badge against the panel. It replies in a series of jolly beeps, like a tiny robot sidekick saying hello, and the frosted glass slides aside.

Oh.

Oh, wow.

The Grand Hall is the kind of room that makes you stand still in the doorway like an idiot, which is exactly what I do. It's a ballroom. An actual, honest-to-Vishnu, Victorian ballroom, the length of maybe four of my apartments, with floor-to-ceiling windows down the entire far wall pouring morning light across a polished parquet floor. The ceiling is white and gold and painted… a mural with clouds and pale blue sky, like somebody looked at the actual sky outside, thought they could do better, and said ‘Hold my beer’. A chandelier the size of my car hangs dead center, throwing tiny prisms across the floor. Two raised seating areas bracket the far corners, all velvet and dark wood, arranged around fireplaces I'd bet money still work.

It's the kind of room that should be roped off. The kind you shuffle through behind a tour guide who says please don't touch anything twice a minute. And instead there's a girl my age curled sideways in one of the velvet chairs with her shoes off, reading something on a tablet, a coffee cup on the two-hundred-year-old table beside her like it's a dorm lounge.

Because it is. Because this is where I live now.

I cross the ballroom at a reverent shuffle, resisting the urge to apologize to the parquet, and pass under the arch at the far end.

The corridor beyond runs along the back of the building, and the entire outer wall is glass. Beyond it, a stone terrace, and beyond that the lawn rolls downhill for what must be a quarter mile to the lake, because of course there’s also a fucking lake. The water glimmers in the morning sun with absurd beauty, like a shot out of a cheesy romance film. Glass doors stand open to the terrace, and the scent of pine and fresh water fills my lungs.

To my left, the hallway wraps around, and a bronze sign with tidy institutional lettering points that way:

DREAMLAND NURSERY → 
POOL →

My whole body cringes so completely that I feel my teeth vibrate. Dreamland Nursery. Sure. Fine. Of course that's real, and of course it has a sign, in the same font they'd use for a chemistry lab. 

I’m not ready to think about that sign, so I don't. Instead, I go right.

Twenty feet down, another archway opens on my left, and the smell hits me before the sight does: coffee. Real coffee, recently ground, so so so fresh. The Dining Hall is smaller than the ballroom but built from the same materials: long tables, big windows, morning light. A handful of girls are scattered around it in twos and threes, eating, talking quietly, one of them laughing at something with a mug in her hand.

My mouth literally waters. I think about the styrofoam abomination I drank an hour ago and feel a wave of genuine grief.

Later. Coffee later. Intake now.

Another sign at the far side of the dining room points me onward, and the corridor past it changes personality mid-stride. The dark wood gives way to pale walls, the stone floor to something softer and quieter, the light warmer and lower. It doesn't look like a hospital. It looks like what a hospital would be if somebody actually wanted you to feel okay in it, which for some reason makes my heart beat harder, not softer.

And then I see it. An office door on the left, propped open, with a rolling poster board parked beside it. The board is bordered with a god-damn-I-shit-you-not literal construction paper rainbow, complete with an enormous hand-drawn arrow pointing at the door. Above it are bubble letters in six alternating colors:

✿ NEW STUDENT INTAKE ✿

Somebody laminated it.

I stand there a second, one hand on the strap of my purse, the little map folded in my fist, my damp pull-up suddenly very present against my skin. Three weeks of practicing alone in my apartment, and every step of it walked me here, to a door with a fucking rainbow on it.

Okay, Erica.

I step inside.

"Uh huh, yeah, uh huh," Alex tried to pay attention to the talking head in front of him. The speaker, another Little, had recognized him and came up to him as he sat in a mall's food court. He had brown hair neatly combed and wore a suit though he didn't seem to be working. This meant hee was putting a lot of effort into not seeming like a "LITTLE" little. This was fitting. He was rambling on about how best to present Littles to the Amazons, how to counter their propaganda, how to convince them they could be 'real' adults, and the suit was obviously part of that.

As if the Amazons cared.

As if it mattered at all.

As if every one of them, EVERY one, wasn't half a second away from being helplessly bent over a giant lap, getting spanked for putting on airs, and being told about their new life in diapers and nurseries. As if any comment the Amazon's made about their most recent kidnappees wasn't just made up justification for something they were going to do anyway.

He'd seen those nurseries. A lot. There was no escape from them, and there was no escape from that fate.

They were sitting in the food court of a gigantic mall. Rows of fast food counters, each far too high for a little to see over and far too expensive for most of them to afford, surrounded tables of gigantic Amazons. They all ate in peace, and Alex had sat at a far too big white and red plastic table to think about his plan. He had to reach almost over his head to grab his drink from the table, even with the booster seat provided, but it gave him a moment to himself.

Instead, he was interrupted by a Little in a suit. A Little in a suit was always a problem, as they attracted attention. Then again, any outfit could be twisted into an excuse, either playing pretend or too casual to be taken seriously. The only safe outfit for a Little was the baby clothes an Amazon put them in.

Frankly, walking around already in baby clothes was the easiest one to avoid being caught, as the other Amazons assumed you are already taken. Alex had had fun with that little tip.

"Now, when its comes to actual fighting..." the other Little leaned in closely. "I have some thoughts about that too..."

Alex looked at him. He had 'thoughts." Were Littles allowed "thoughts?" If the Amazons were right, they didn't really that were worth listening to, and this dummy's 'thoughts' were going to prove them right. His "thoughts" were going to fail and cause major problems for everyone.

Sometimes some had these thoughts of fighting. Against giants multiple times their size. Who were also several times stronger, were the only ones who owned weapons, and had the full backing of the law. Unsurprisingly, not one worked.

Alex had tried himself a thousand times. The last one seemed promising. Inviting a genius level (for a Little, he supposed) diplomat from a world entirely built by Littles seemed promising. Alex was stunned when he heard of it- society, buildings, even planes, all built by Littles, suddenly accessible by a strange portal they had build themselves. It gave him a brief moment of hope that they could actually find their way out of this.

Then he saw their plan. It was clear the Amazons had no real intent to meet her as an equal and that she was walking into a trap. No one else saw it, or believed him when he told them. Alex bet she'd last a week before she was in a diaper reciting some tirade about how Littles were better off as babies for the Amazon's hungry cameras. The other world might find building that portal was their biggest mistake as more and more of them found themselves imprisoned in nurseries they didn't even know existed.

He should have known not to get his hopes up. Littles WERE that dumb. All of them. Even those from worlds where they ran the world and built airplanes.

Himself included, but at least he saw it.

The Little in front of him was telling his 'plan.' Alex already knew it was bound to fail. If he carried it out, he was going to get himself caught into a particularly harsh punishment. Not just a nursery, but a cage. Worse, he was going to get OTHER Littles into the same, and cause lasting damage to their own cause.

Again, all Littles were dumb, but some were Particularly dumb. This one was particularly dumb.

"NO Little needs diapers. NO Little WANTS diapers, and we'll get them all out..."

Alex smirked behind his cup. Of course, how could ANY adult Little POSSIBLY want diapers? He shuffled in his seat, enjoying the feeling of his padding, and wondered if the Particularly Dumb Little heard the crinkle.

At the far end, was what was distracting him. It was a store, titled "Littles Paradise." Massive glass walls showed off 'normal', ie giant like, clothes sized for littles.

Behind it was the opposite. Locking strollers, locking pacifiers, paddles for spankings, and endless diapers, again, with locks, stocked the rest of the shelves. The store itself was a trap, and one Alex wanted to fall for.

If he told people he wanted to wear diapers on his own he'd be a weirdo and sign other Littles should be adopted. If he openly looked for an Amazon couple to adopt him, he'd be a traitor. However, if he accidently fell for a trap that just happened to give him the exact result he wanted, and get 'forced' into a baby lifestyle by people several times his size? Well then, he couldn't be blamed, there was nothing he could do. He had been planning this even as these little should-be-diapered brats talked to him about resistance and expected him to help.

This is why they spoke to him. On the outside, he was a writer and champion of Little's rights. On the inside, all he wanted was an Amazon, and the RIGHT amazon, to finally put him in his place. If his timing was right, that Amazon was fifteen minutes from walking into the trap store. If his plan was right, she was ten minutes from adopting her newest Little- Alex, and he'd prove he was the goodest diapered Little in the world. He smiled at the thought.

Another Little was coming near. This one was caught, she was locked into a stroller pushed by giants. Based on her brown stained, overflowing diaper, t shirt with "Stinky Butt" written on it, and face twisted into a look of horror and disgust, she was in the middle of learning a VERY valuable lesson about what it meant for a Little to be in diapers with an Amazon determining when they got changed. She squirmed, clearly itchy and hot, as the lesson got stronger and stronger. It was a lesson Alex already knew was true, and hoped to be taught by a strict, caring Amazon soon.

He looked at the passing Little, pinched his nose shut, and winked at her, letting her know what a smelly Little brat he thought she was. She pouted at him, upset that even another little was coming in on the teasing. Still, good lesson for her, and fair since he wanted to get the same soon.

"Is something wrong Widdle Stinker? Learning why you don't argue over getting changed in public?"

The Amazon Mommy asked the squirming Little as they passed. Alex chuckled. So it was a well deserved lesson.

A muffled moan came as a reply, and the Amazon stopped. "Hmm, seems you might need a bit more help with your lesson."

The Little squealed from behind her pacifier, and her Amazon Mommy lifted her straight out of the stroller. She sat down on a bench and put the whining Little on her lap facing out.

"Time for your horsey ride, Stinky Butt!" the Amazon said. With massive hands that covered most of the Little's torso, she held the squirming brat in place and bounced her up and down on her knee, each bounce bringing another SQUELCH from her overflowing diaper and a groan from the Little.

"Tsk tsk tsk, stinky stinky stinky," The Amazon said. "Just look at that messy diaper! And to think, only a few weeks ago you thought you were a regular adult who deserved thongs! How silly! I'm going to take you back to your old "Accountant Firm" in your proper underwear and show them the truth, what do you think of that?"

The Little teared up. She looked at Alex for comfort, and instead he smiled and waggled his finger at her misbehavior. She whined and closed her eyes.

"What was that?" The particularly dumb Little in a suit asked. He looked behind himself at the bouncing Little, and turned away blushing.

"Oh, nothing. Things like that happen all the time at this mall." Alex was counting on it. "You were saying?"

Alex made eye contact with the still speaking Little who still hadn't realized he was better off in pampers. Well, time for a lesson even a Particularly Dumb Little could understand before he hurt far more people then just himself.

Alex had worked long to find the right Amazon couple to be his new Mommy and Daddy, and had planned ahead to ensure he got the ones he wanted. Some were too poor, and couldn't afford a good lifestyle for a Little. Some were cruel, treating their Littles as more prisoners then babies. Some were the opposite, and didn't give Littles the spankings they needed to behave. Alex had picked carefully, but this Little would never get the chance.

The Little reached for his drink, a giant cup of apple juice, (Alex wasn't sure if he had ordered that or the giants refused to serve him beer or soda, but either proved the point) and was already shaky trying to hold it.

"Wait... what's that on the cup?" Alex asked, making a confused face. He climbed up higher on his chair and bent over the table and reached for the Little's cup, aiming as well as he could. He smirked, realizing that his position probably made his diaper a bit more obvious. Ironic, given what he was about to do.

"OH no!!" the Little screamed as the juice poured onto him.

"Oh no!!" Alex said, feigning horror. He stayed a moment bent over the table, savoring the feeling his padding pressing out, before settling back into it. His diaper had probably been showing, and fun as that was, he was here to get the OTHER Little forcibly adopted.

The juice poured right onto his crouch. None went higher, and from any outside perspective, it seemed like he had wet himself. Given he was a Little, that was the only explanation that would be taken.

The Little looked down in panic. Even his dumb Little brain could understand the problem.

Worse, a Little shouting while surrounded by giants would ALWAYS get attention in a bad way. In a VERY bad way.

"Quick," Alex whispered. "Run to the bathroom to dry off!" Alex pointed to the bathroom, marked by giant brown wooden doors with symbols, at the far end of the food quart. The bathroom's symbols marked a Male Amazon, a Female Amazon, and a Little in a diaper. Alex smiled to himself, the Particularly Dumb Little didn't see it, but wouldn't find anything he could use on his own there.

The dumb idiot believed him him, got up and bolted toward the bathroom, thus confirming what everyone was assuming. No Amazon questioned what was happening when they saw a Little with wet pants bolt toward a bathroom. Alex wondered if he'd ever figure out it was a trick. He'd have the rest of his life in a nursery to go over this moment and wonder.

He took the now empty juice cup and threw it in the nearby garbage.

"Now now, it seems we are already past that," an towering Amazon man, with muscles pushing through a skin tight gym shirt, said.

"No, you don't understand, it was an accident! I..."

"Yes I know it was an accident Little one, we can all see that. I'll make sure those 'accidents' aren't a problem anymore." The giant said, not letting go of his grasp.

"No, I mean, it was juice! My cup fell and leaked, see!" he pointed toward Alex, and the giant followed his gaze.

Alex gave him a confused look, lifted up his own still sealed and full cup, and shrugged.

"What... Alex... what happened?" his face fell. Alex didn't know if he assumed his cup had just disappeared, or if Alex was doing the natural thing and saving his own allegedly non-pampered behind. Really, you couldn't blame him for lying.

Of course, the giant COULD blame the other Little for lying, and intended to do so.

"Did you really just try to blame another Little for your own accident, you lying brat? He's on his own behaving like a good boy! Why..."

Alex squealed with delight inwardly. First, a real Amazon called him a good boy, next, he was going to watch a bad one get his comeuppance.

"No no!!!" The little shouted as the giant pulled off his soaked dress pants and threw him over his knee.

Alex did feel sorry for the soon-to-be-diapered brat. It was never easy, watching your adult life come to a an abrupt end, and the new, infantile one start. Of course, Alex would hopefully be experiencing that soon, so he guessed it wasn't that bad. He hid his smile and shuddered with glee.

Soon, he'd be cuddled up, in thick, warm diapers, in one of the cutest nurseries around.

As for the other Little, Alex hoped his Amazon daddy was one of the nicer ones.

WHACK! "AAAAA!"

Seems he wasn't one of the nicer ones. Amazons were already much stronger then Littles, and this one clearly worked out. A spanking from him could get harsh, and he didn't look like he intended to hold back.

WHACK! again. "I'll show you what happens to lying Littles! Once I get you diapered I'm filling your mouth with SOAP!"

REALLY not nice. Soap was one of the punishments Alex never envied.

WHACK WHACK WHACK! The smacks fell, and the Little screamed as his bottom turned a deep red.

Alex smirked and watched the show as the Little was introduced to his new reality. He always found a Little in a suit jacket with a diaper underneath was funny, the brief bit of faked dignity and professionalism broken by the truth. He hoped to see it soon.

Alex had even tried it himself, as he often wore at home. His own diapers were in a badly hidden box in his closet, with a sealed garbage bag with the used ones beneath them. Until then, it was his deepest secret, an embarrassing source of comfort that would end his life as he knew if if it was found, and therefore kept hidden under floorboards. Now, it was placed so that it would be the first thing found when they investigated him, thereby shutting down any of his fake arguments for his own adulthood in his forced attempt to argue his way out of it in one of the kangaroo courts they ran.

He daydreamed about that 'court day' too. There were entire books written on how a Little could win them, all lies. Alex instead hoped he'd already be diapered while standing in front of the meanest, sternest judge they had, his new mommy holding his hand (or maybe a leash) in one hand and a paddle in another. He pictured himself standing there, blushing with his padded, and probably at LEAST soaked, backside exposed. He'd argue, get spanked in front of the entire court, and then told of his over the top punishment and oh so humiliating new life.

Alex shook his head and erased the day dream. The Particularly Dumb Little was on a table, sobbing confessions of guilt as his Daddy got ready to tape him into his first diaper as an adult. He requested one from the mall staff, who were happy to oblige. The Little covered his face and moaned "no no no."

"Yes yes yes," Alex thought. Public diaper changes on a first day were often harsh for Littles, and it seemed this ones need Daddy had little sympathy.

His new Daddy held out a brightly printed diaper, provided by a more then willing nearby Amazon Mommy. The red faced Little squirmed and moaned his displeasure as his Daddy lowered the padding onto him and stretched it out, then taped i securely to his hips. A moment later, the new baby was turned upside down over the Amazon's shoulder with his padded bottom sticking out, getting carried away away to his new life. A hand rested on his back side, giving him light reminder smacks, each one eliciting a whine from the Little and envy from Alex. His feet kicked helplessly, now several times his own height off the ground.

As they walked, Alex watched him. He couldn't help but smile and wave his fingers at the crying Little, and he wondered if he noticed.

"Good Little," Alex thought. He hoped he really was a good Little and would learn to act properly like a baby. In time, he'd see it was right. Adult Littles were only ever as good as Amazon Babies, and Alex himself was going to be the goodest Little in the world and get himself in one of fun nurseries where he belonged. That was the difference between him and the others. All Littles were dumb and bad, but Alex realized he was dumb and bad, thus making him the smartest and goodest out of Littles. The fact he was doing this and accepting his place proved it.

To be honest Alex was a bit annoyed. That lucky brat had one fake accident and was on his way to a nursery. Alex had spent years being the biggest brat possible, running resistance groups, writing about fighting against Amazons, ACTUALLY fighting against them, calling their objectively true facts about the dumbness and diaperability of all Littles lies, ALL WHILE WEARING DIAPERS IN PUBLIC UNDER HIS OWN FREAKING CLOTHES, and still escaped all of them. Yes, he had hidden things and run when almost caught, but he figured one would be good enough to get him and use his escape attempts as a reason for more punishments. What does a Little gotta do to get put in his place?

Disappointing that the superior species couldn't see the trick, but he guessed he was good at hiding it. He was a dumb Little, but not a particularly dumb one after all.

Still, his target was nearby, and he had to prepare. He stood up on his chair, jumped the distance to the ground, and fell to his bottom before getting back up. He stood up and bushed off his thankfully not sore bottom. Yet another reason to prefer padded underwear.

He left his cup still on the table. Babies didn't need to clean up after themselves, why should he? His intended Mommy and Daddy had specifically said they didn't believe in making Littles do chores, since they wouldn't for actual babies. Another positive.

He took a step, and luxuriated in the sound of his diaper crinkling. He wiggled his bottom, making the thick padding rub between his thighs and bringing even more crinkles.

He knew from experience it was louder in his ears then in others. He had walked around with them before, and normally got away with it.

Still, much as he loved it, it had to come off. He blushed and waddled toward the bathroom. Deep down, he knew it was fine, no one noticed, and he was going to get in a nursery anyway. However, his instinct still made him scared. Frankly, in another circumstance, he preferred the idea that his padded bottom was obvious.

He passed by a couple of giants sitting at a table. Beside them, strapped down into a locking stroller, was a Little in a thick white diaper and pink t shirt. The Little seemed to be new to their status, they were blushing and at the giants giggling as if it was all still new and shocking. So, they were in the few months before they truly learned their place. What a fun experience for them!

Alex recognized the diaper, he wore the same kind himself.

He made eye contact with the Little. The Little looked back, scared, pleading, humiliation, and a dozen other emotions in their eye.

Alex replied with a smirk. He reached to his belt line and pulled his own diaper slightly above it. He winked, and put his finger to his mouth in a shushing motion.

The Little looked in surprise at the seemingly free Little choosing to wear a diaper. Their emotions switched entirely to shock, and they looked to see if anyone else noticed, then back at Alex in confusion.

Alex giggled, stuck his tongue out, and pulled his eyelid down. "Haha, I'm free and you're not, you HAVE to wear one and I don't, and I'm choosing to do the thing that humiliates you just for fun," he thought.

The Little became outraged, and began squirming in their stroller and moaning through the locked pacifier gag for attention. Alex waggled his finger and shook his head while smirking.

The Little reached to grab their Amazon mommy's sleave.

And that was the que for Alex to leave. He power walked behind them, making sure to emphasize the waddle as he passed the furious Little. Hopefully their reaction will be taken as a tantrum and they'll get a fun punishment they probably deserved (and wanted) anyway.

"What are you whining about? Is this another tantrum?" his Daddy asked, and from the sounds of the muffled shouts that followed, he planned to do something about it.

As Alex walked, he relaxed. He sighed in pleasure as his diaper became warm and expanded. It squished a bit, and hugged him closely. Soon, he'd feel that constantly. He wondered how often his new Mommy and Daddy would immedietly change his diaper, or leave him in it for hours. The later could sometimes be fun, but he didn't want it TOO much.

He made sure to stop part way through wetting. For his plan to work fully, he needed the wet diaper, and it felt wrong to get rid of it without using it anyway. However, he also needed to be ready to go again. If his initial plan failed, his back up was to wet his pants, a move that ALWAYS ended with a little in a nursery. Wetting his pants wasn't nearly as fun as doing it in a diaper, and from the outside perspective would mean his former friends in the resistance would be less likely to assume he was being railroaded by the system, but it was good to have a fall back.

He entered the bathroom. Like all good public bathrooms, everything except the changing table was far too big for a Little. The toilets (which Littles shouldn't be using) were above his head, and hidden by blue stalls he had to jump to open. He walked by them, checking to make sure they were empty.

He smiled at his so far perfect plan. He had picked this bathroom as it was rarely used. For his plan to work, it needed to be empty at first. At the same time, he deliberately avoided any bathrooms with Little sized toilets .

He walked into the stall. Hopefully, this will be the last time he'd be in such a place.

He pulled down his pants and examined his diaper. Like all good diapers, the tapes were too strong for a weak Little to open, so he slid it off. He then reached into his pants pocket and pulled out a pair of gross boxers.

He looked at them while wrinkling his nose, sighed, and pulled them on, followed by his pants. With any luck, he'd never have to wear the bad-for-Littles things again.

He had considered simply going up to his target already wearing a diaper. That would probably guarantee a Mommy or Daddy adopting him, so it was a tempting choice.

However, the initial capture often a key part in a Little's new life, and it was something he'd daydreamed about way to much to avoid. He often imagined what being forcibly put into his assumed 'first as an adult' diaper would be. He loved to picture himself getting grabbed, stripped, screaming and fighting to no avail and only to attract more attention to his humiliation, before getting spanked into obedience and finally diapered. Then they'd find the diaper he hid in the bathroom, and he'd be forced to admit the diaper was his as no other Little used this bathroom, and all his arguments would fall to nothing.

Sure, the other Littles who had read his work would argue they were all planted as part of a take down, but would be ignored as more Little nonsense.

He waved goodbye to his friendly diaper and walked out back into the mall. He checked the clock on the wall of the food court. His intended new Mommy would arrive soon, and the way was far for someone with short Little legs. He hurried along.

The choice of Mommy and Daddy had been a difficult one. He knew he wanted to get adopted, and by all appearances 'accidently.' However, it had to be the right couple. His status in the resistance gave him details about hundreds of important Amazons, and he looked through them to find the right ones. The opinions ranged widely, from "Littles are our equals" hippies like the Kenzies to "spank them daily" brutalists like the McValences, authors of the infamous "All Littles are Bad". Alex wanted to be a good Little, and he had to choose a balance.

First off, it had to be a couple. He wanted as much attention as possible, and that required both a Mommy and Daddy.

Second, he wanted them to be RICH, so he could be spoiled like he deserved. Alex wanted to see the world from his stroller, in the most comfortable and cutest diapers, and holding expensive toys. It also came with lifestyle, and Alex didn't want to be one of those Littles desperate Amazons used as household servants, or kept in cages, or blocked from any other kind of hobby. Anyway, given how much smarter Amazons were then Littles, what did it say about one who couldn't make money? They didn't deserve a good, if a bit bratty, Little like Alex.

The perfect couple was Mr and Mrs Johnson. They were advocates for Littles rights, but not to the insane "Littles shouldn't be spanked" level ridiculousness. When they weren't jet setting, they lived in a huge mansion with their Littles and pets, where their Littles had their own nursery full of cute clothes, toys, and the most comfortable diapers. The Littles were allowed to have their own lives, pursuing art and Littles sports, and would give Alex people to bully and fight for Mommy and Daddy's attention with. Both were known to care for their Littles constantly, often bouncing one each in their laps, and giving them constant attention. Alex LOVED the idea of mindlessly filling his diapers on camera, sitting on his uber important Mommy and Daddy's lap, while they gave a speech that went over Alex's Little head to the other smart adults

"Hey would you look at that!" Alex said quietly. It was the Little he had teased and showed off his diaper too earlier.

From the looks of their tear soaked face and the new locking mittens on their hands, they'd learned a lesson about struggling against their betters. Alex had a spare minute, and decided to see if that lesson stuck. He wondered what the brat would think about Alex's new, adult underwear.

The Little's Amazonian Mommy and Daddy had stopped at a bench and were chatting, probably about grown up Amazon not meant for Littles. The Little was facing away from them, toward a stand selling candy. This was the perfect opportunity.

Alex walked beside the mammoth wall of the stand, letting its height cover him from the owner. He came closer to the Little and waved at them.

The Little, still pouting from whatever punishment they got, looked up at Alex and glared.

Alex reached down to his belt line and pulled up his boxers, showing off the fact that unlike the brat, he wasn't in diapers.

The Little snarled. Alex always thought it was cute to see them get angry and try to look intimidating from behind strapped in pacifiers. The Little lifted fingerless mitten toward Alex, and Alex could guess what finger they held up.

Alex shook his head and the poor little dummy's mistake, and decided it was time for another lesson about dealing with his superiors. Yet another Particularly Dumb Little who didn't know they were dealing with just a kind of dumb Little.

Alex reached over the stall, grabbed a candy bar, and threw it at the confused Little. They looked down it in surprise. Then surprise turned to horror as they realized what Alex did.

"!&#@" The Little swore, slightly muffled by their pacifier. They then shot their hands to their mouth.

"!&#@," Alex said, enunciating each punctuation mark. Good Littles didn't swear, he found his own way to express emotions. If the other Little had done the same, the punishment they were about to get would probably be much lesser.

Alex was low on time. He walked on by as the Little struggled looking for a way out.

"Blair! Did you just swear?" he heard their Amazon shout. "Oh my God did you steal that chocolate bar?! BAD LITTLE!"

The Little squealed, and Alex laughed. As a rule, Littles in diapers shouldn't mess with anyone not in diapers, even if the non-diapered situation was temporary. The irony struck him, but only made it more fun.

He needed to get his kicks out now for his own last time in boxers. His second favorite hobby, bullying helpless diapered Littles, would soon be replaced permanently with his number one favorite hobby, being the helpless Little who got bullied. Still, with his planning it wouldn't be too harsh, and it would be more then worth it.

Perhaps the same Little would later get to see him get carried out of Little's Paradise in his own humiliating clothes and get to gloat back. Maybe one day they'd be playmates and they'd get revenge. Maybe the other Particularly Dumb Little in a suit would realize what happened, get upgraded to pull ups and toddler level treatment, and be left as their babysitter to add to the revenge. It was a delicious thought.

He neared the store, and spotted Mrs. Johnson walking in. He recognized her from pictures. She was tall, fit but not muscular, with long red hair over an expensive looking dress. She was carrying empty bags, intending to pick up Little supplies, and about to instead get a new Little.

From here, the plan was a bit more complicated. Alex would wander in, looking nervous. He'd ask for where there was Little sized underwear, and get pointed to the back. Once there, he'd act scared at all the diapers, and 'panic.' He'd begin knocking over stands, and when they came to stop him, throw a tantrum.

From everything he saw, Mrs. Johnson should then step in with her mix of caring and sternness. Alex would be sniffling, tears streaming, showing what a Little baby he still was, and her Amazon nature would make her take over. If that failed, his last resort was wetting himself, though he hoped he'd have a diaper on the next time he needed to do that.

From there, the rest would come. His initial resistance, public spanking, diapering, arguing, court trials, etc., and on to his fabulous new life. He could barely wait.

He entered the store a bit behind her. As he expected, the first two rows, facing the store windows, were "normal" things sized for Littles. Shirts, socks, pants, shoes, etc. with one noticeable thing missing.

Alex put on his best nervous Little face and found a store clerk in a long red apron. She was a Middle, between the Littles and Amazons in terms of size, probably chosen to trick Littles into feeling more comfortable. Still, she towered several feet over Alex's head, and was probably far more capable. "Uhhh... Excuse me... uh miss..." he said in a small voice while looking up at her.

The woman turned and looked down toward him. She sniffed and rolled her eyes, then forced a deceiving smile. "Yes Mr...?" she said. The word "Mr." barely hid the sarcasm. She needed it for the trap but didn't believe any Little should be referred to that way, and frankly Alex agreed, unless it was sarcastic or followed by "DiaperButt."

"Uhhh... Alex," Alex said.

She giggled at the deliberately silly response. "Mr. Alex. What can I help you with?"

"Ummm... where are the underwear for Littles, Miss?"

She smiled. She thought he was falling for the trap, and technically she was right. "Right that way at the back, Mr. Alex," she giggled. She pointed down deep into the store, and Alex followed her point.

"Thank you!" Alex said, proving what a good, polite Little he was.

Right after the first two rows was everything Alex had been warned about. Row upon row of everything you needed to capture and baby a little, all looking either terrifying or adorable, depending on your perspective. Onesies and plastic pants with locks, strollers and high chairs with straps, paddles, leg locks, cage like cribs, suppositories, pills, and brain washing hypnosis tracks, and everything else Alex would soon get to enjoy.

And, of course, the most vital part of a Little's identity, the all wonderful diapers, stocked at the back. Alex walked by each aisle, looking for the telltale red hair and green dress of his target.

"Ah hah," he said, spotting it. She was standing well at the back, right where the diapers were stored. Perfect.

He walked down, and had to stop himself from humming in glee.

Now, was for the act. He hunched his shoulders and held his arms tight. He forced himself to look nervous, and let a tear run down his cheek.

"Where... where is the actual underwear?" He said, staring at a pack of diapers with a Little dressed as a baby on them.

"Hey!" he said outside in a nervous voice. "What's going on?!" He turned around as if startled, and knocked over a stand of diapers. "Why are they all diapers?! LITTLES DON'T BELONG IN DIAPERS!" He shouted.

Now was time for the tantrum. He reached for another pile, and shoved them directly toward Mrs. Johnson.

The diapers fell, landed on her leg. She turned around. "Excuse me? Did you just say "Littles don't belong in diapers", WHILE THROWING A TANTRUM LIKE A BABY?"

Alex stared in horror. That wasn't Mrs. Johnson.

From behind, the red hair and green dress were the same. From the front, the face and more muscular body certainly wasn't.

"I... uh... can I just sneak right beside you to find..."

"NO!" she shouted, and grabbed Alex's wrist. "I'm sick and tired of you Little brats destroying things! How dare you say Littles don't belong in diapers when I've put so much work into proving the truth to my own! Do you know how insensitive that is? How many long hours of punishments and cages you'd undo?!"

Alex gulped. "Oh god," he said. He recognized the face.

This was Mrs. McValence, the very same author of "All Littles are Bad", who Alex specifically wanted to avoid. She was wealthy and important for Alex to know, but was probably the strongest ANTI Littles rights activist around, and notorious for constant, extreme punishments.

Anyone who thought "All Littles are Bad" was not someone a good Little like Alex should be adopted by.

Sure, her Littles got to travel and enjoy the benefits of being rich. They just did it while sitting in constantly full, rarely changed diapers, clothes designed to humiliate more then anything, almost always tied up nearly immobile, and getting regular spankings multiple times a day, far harder then anything the Johnson's approved of. She advocated rare as possible changes, and always in public, the kind Alex dreaded the most.

And that was IF they behaved. If they didn't... Alex shuddered. He needed to get out.

"Please, I'm sorry, I..." Alex pleaded.

"NO! You're coming home with me!"

"NOO!" Alex shouted as she pulled him toward her. He kicked and pulled, but she yanked him over her lap. With one strong hand, she tore his pants clean off.

"Who gave you these boxers to wear!? YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER!" She said, and tore them off as well.

"NO NO NO!" Alex said. In a way, this was what he always dreamed of. However, this was going to be way, WAY to far.

SMACK! As if to prove him right, the first hit of a thick wooden paddle came down on his backside, immediately bringing tears and screams.

Hand spankings were fun. Small paddles a bit harder but still fun. The massive wooden paddle was insane.

SMACK SMACK SMACK! The blows rained down, and Alex was almost immediately screaming.

"Clerk!" she shouted, and the clerk came running.

"Yes Mrs. McValence?" she asked. Of course she'd know her by name.

"I'm adopting this Little, and I plan to teach them a lesson," she said between spanks. "They will need diapers. Thick ones, and LOTS of them."

"Yes Ma'am. Do you want ones for girl or boy Littles?"

"OW OW OW! I'm a guy! Please I'm a guy! OW OW OW!" Alex shouted between tears. His bottom was burning, almost numb from the spanks, and kept getting worse. His legs kicked unconsciously, but she held him down tight. He swore his butt was probably a dozen shades of purple, and she was still going.

WHACK WHACK WHACK! "ENOUGH OUT OF YOU! YOU ARE WHATEVER GENDER I SAY!" she said.

"You know what? Get me skirts. Pink onesies. The ones with the most glitter. I want this one dressed as a pampered princess for the world to see. I already have a regular Little boy and girl. This one will be trained to be a a girl, and the other two can have a Little Sissy to bully and tease.

"NO! @*!(*" Alex whined. Getting permanently sissified was NOT on his list of goals.

WHACK! "What did you just say?!" the Amazon said.

His bottom burned like a fire, and he could have sworn it was going numb. Still, her blows continued, leaving him a screaming, sobbing mess on her lap. The clerk treated the abuse of Alex's bottom as the most normal thing in the world, and simply continued. "Of course ma'am. And what kind of diapers?"

She pointed with the paddled at the top of the shelf. Alex followed her gaze, far above his own head, to see an oversized box with a crying Little on it. "There. Little Brats," she said. "Tell me about them."

The clerk looked up at the box. "Yes Ma'am. Those are made to be especially thick and uncomfortable, with clear plastic intended to make accidents obvious by sight and smell as much as possible. Also, their prints are... deliberately extra humiliating. They are intended to be punishment diapers, used to teach a Little a lesson before they are returned to normal ones after good behavior."

"Good. Those will be his daily diapers. Get me three boxes of the girl diapers, and if she behaves she can get boy ones."

"No..." Alex moaned.

WHACK! The giant woman delivered one final, paralyzing blow to his behind. Then, with one hand, she lifted Alex up by the wrists and left him dangling, his torn pants hanging by his knees, while the other waggled a finger under his tear drenched nose. "ENOUGH OUT OF YOU! Get HER a bar of soap for her dirty mouth, then a pacifier gag I can pour more soap into. I tell you you dumb Little BRAT, I've dealt with your kind for a LONG time, I know exactly how to deal with you, and I can tell you are a PARTICULIARLY bad case. Yours is going to be the sorriest Little bottom in the WORLD, and there are plenty of those to go around, so I'm going to have to be extra harsh just to make sure. I wrote a book on this, and I'll make the things in there and anything I've done with my other Littles seem tame."

She began poking Alex in the chest driving her points through. A burning fear filled him. This was a mistake, and not a good one.

As she spoke, Alex felt a warmness run down his legs. He looked down, and almost cried again when he saw his back up plan had put itself into action out of fear. His pants absorbed some and began to sag, and the rest collected in a puddle beneath him.

The giant looked down. "Get me those diapers NOW. I can't believe anyone let this one out of it, but we are going to permanently rectify that obviously naughty mistake. Also, she'll need an enema, and a suppository. I want her in poopy pink princess pampers within an HOUR, and locked in them for many more. Also, I need another stroller that will ride up and press her messy diapers to her, locking plastic pants with the tube and mask, a crib she can stay in for days at a time...

Alex stopped listening to the list of horrors. So not only was his adulthood stripped away, but any freedom, his gender, and his permanent ability to sit comfortably. Even in his wildest daydreams, he didn't imagine being forced into skirts, or being the constantly bullied lowest on the totem poll out of already over abused Littles. He gave up a life as a well known writer for this!?

Suddenly, he envied the other Littles he teased for an entirely different reason. It seemed he really would be the worse off of them all.

This was a Particularly Dumb Little mistake. Could it still be fun?

The weeks went by, and Jonah found himself immersed in this world. He worked from home, dedicating his time to being the best baby boy for Mommy. She introduced him to ageplay, where they'd pretend he was younger and act out different scenarios. He grew out his hair long, and they started calling him Princess Jonah instead. It all felt right, even with the occasional punishment for sulking or skipping a task.

One day, Mommy brought home a portable crib, saying it was for when he visited her house. She expected him to sleep in it every night, further solidifying their relationship. Jonah found himself agreeing to this, too. He slowly began to pack away his adult life, replacing it with baby toys and clothes that Jenny had bought him.

His friends and family thought it was strange that he'd stopped visiting, but he made up excuses. They grew concerned, their calls and messages becoming fewer as time went on. But Jonah didn't care, he was living his best life as a submissive child, serving his mommy in every way possible. She pampered him, feeding him when he was hungry or patting his back when he cried out for attention.

Their relationship became more physical too, with Mommy introducing him to temperature play and teasing him with various toys. She spanked him whenever she deemed necessary, using different objects each time just to keep things exciting. Jonah even began to wear diapers during the day, finding it more comfortable than anything else. The world around him faded away, and he became consumed by their dynamic.

In the midst of their new lives, they received marriage proposals online, people wanting to be a part of their unique lifestyle. No one else could understand what they had except for each other. Mommy Sarah became his world, his everything, and Jonah knew he would never go back. He happily lived out the rest of his days as her baby boy, cherishing every moment they had together.

You’ve known Olivia for basically your entire life.

And had a crush on her just as long.

Though there was never any chance for it to be anything more than unrequited love.

It wasn’t because she was your Mom’s best friend’s daughter—it was because you never managed to get the hang of potty training.

She’s been teasing you about your diapers since she was potty trained. An unfortunate habit that she never broke all these years later.

Sure, it was never truly mean—but when you’re 16, being marched off to have your Mom change your poopy diaper in the family bathroom is Disneyland—it might as well be.

You watched her grow into the beautiful woman she is. Heard all about her thriving social life, parties, and eventually, sexcapades as you sat there in a soggy diaper, brimming with jealousy.

She tried to buoy your popularity in high school—but even the popular girl’s power of persuasion is limited when the guy she’s fighting for still poops his pampers.

Your hangouts nearly ended when you both started college. Between school and her social life, finding time to hang out with her mom and her incontinent friend wasn’t a priority.

Today was a rare exception.

It also yielded an even rarer opportunity. Your moms decided to go on a wine run, leaving you two alone.

And for some reason, she invited you into her room.

“I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever, Chris! How is everything?”

“It’s been fine, but I have like 5 midterms this week.”

“Awww, that blows. I know how icky your tummy gets when you’re stressed. You gonna be okay?”

You hate when she says things like that—mostly because they’re true.

“I’ll be fine, Olivia.”

“I’m not worried about you, silly. Just those poor diapies…”

To your surprise, she reaches out and grabs your diaper, squeezing it slowly…lingering.

Staring deep into your eyes.

“I…I…,” you stutter, consumed with pleasure mixed with confusion and shock.

“You’re still a virgin, aren’t you, Chris?”

You shake your head, but without conviction.

“Chris,” she purrs, still rubbing your diaper ever so gently, “It’s me. You don’t need to lie to me. I know it’s hard when you’re still in diapers.”

“Y-yeah,” you wheeze, not wanting her to stop despite your confusion and not knowing what to do.

“It must be so hard for you. Wishing you could be like everyone else, wishing you could escape your squishy diapers. Watching everyone have fun while all you can do is rub your pampers.”

You wince…if she only knew your Mom punished you whenever she found your stickies in your diaper.

You’re not even allowed that.

Only the soft crinkles of your diaper, playing to the rhythm of her hand, break the silence.

“Don’t you want to know what it feels like, Chris?” she whispers, squeezing your diaper. “To be with a woman? To be with…me?”

Your knees buckle slightly at her words, betraying your attempt to keep your cool.

“I know you do, silly. I can feel what’s under all that soggy padding. Feel your excitement. Do you want me to stop, Chris?”

You shake your head.

She giggles, rubbing slightly faster. “I didn’t think so. I don’t want to stop, either. But can you do something for me first?”

By now your brain is nearly short-circuiting, feeling too good to wonder why this is happening.

“A-anything, Olivia,” you moan.

“Take off those shorts, silly boy.”

You hesitate for a split second. It’s been years since she’s seen your diaper.

“Don’t be shy! You don’t want the rubbies to go away, do you?”

You pull down your shorts, exposing your yellow diaper.

“Good boy! And your shirt?”

“M-my sh-shirt, Olivia?”

“Yes, Chris,” she says, slowly pulling up your shirt.

She tosses it next to your shirt, giving a few seconds of quick rubbies in reward.

“Very good. Now. One last thing. I want to watch you make your poopies for me. And if you do, I’ll give you a special reward.”

Your brain is in an all-out civil war. You want nothing more than a “special reward,” fueled by her continued diaper rubbing.

But to poop yourself for her? As she watches?

“I know you’re going to poop soon. I heard your mom saying she can’t be out too long because you’re due anytime. Might as well do it for me, Chris…”

She isn’t wrong—your tummy has already started to rumble. But still…

She presses her hands into your shoulders, pushing you down. “C’mon, Chris. Squat down and make a big poopoo in your diaper for me.”

You let yourself squat, eyes wide as your body takes over—like a wingman helping out.

“Oh my gosh!” Olivia squeals as she hears you grunt. She slides her hand to your bum, giggling as she feels you fill your diaper.

“Good boy, going poopoo for me!”

You try not to think about how ridiculous you must look, squatting in nothing but a diaper as your crush watches on, completely rapt by the scene.

“All done, Chrisypoo? Wow! What a big mess! You do this twice a day? Your poor Mom!”

Before you even have time to blush she turns you around and pushes you on the bed. A loud squelch echoes from your diaper as you land on your mess.

“Good boys deserve their rewards, don’t they?”

She squeezes your mess before rubbing again.

Slowly.

Methodically.

You moan in pleasure as you thrust your hips into your hand.

“Slow down, cowboy! You earned more than some simple rubbies! But if you want them, you’ll have to beg for it. Beg me to ride your poopy diapie, Chris.”

You’d do or say anything for more at this point.

“P-please r-ride my po-o-poopy diapie, Olivia. Please…”

“Awww! Say ‘please be my first, Olivia! Be the first to make me make squirties in my diapie.”

You obey, too desperate and needy to care about anything but the next few minutes.

“Such a good, stinky boy! Are you ready?”

She walks toward you, smiling. Tauntingly slow.

You tremble in anticipation. Your body shakes violently as she straddles your overworked diaper. As you feel her through your diaper.

If it feels this good through your diaper, you can only imagine what it’s like to be in her, without your pathetic padding in the way.

“You didn’t make squirties already, you silly boy?” she teases as her hips gyrate.

Her thrusts start slowly at first, building speed with every pass. Pleasure bubbles in you like a volcano ready to erupt.

Your ragged breathing, the cacophony of crinkles, and her teasing moans fill the room, a symphony you’ll never forget.

Just as your pleasure is about to reach its zenith, you hear her voice.

“You won’t get in trouble if your mom finds your stickies in your diapie, right?”

She laughs, thrusting faster, feeling your trembling beneath the padding.

“Oh, well. Too late now! Explode for me, my stinky little diaper boy! Go on, show me how thankful you are!”

The thought of your Mom’s reaction clashes with the pleasure from Olivia’s body.

The worst possible thought at the worst possible time. Panic floods your brain—but it’s too late.

It happened suddenly and violently. You scream in pleasure as you fill your diaper with another mess.

“Good job!!” Olivia coos, stopping her thrusts, standing up, and leaving the room. “I hope it was worth it, Chrisypoo!”

You lay there breathing deeply, feeling better than you’ve ever felt before. But as the waves of pleasure recede, terror grows inside you.

Your mom will spank you right there—in front of Olivia—when she finds what you did.

There’s only one thing to do. You have to change before she sees.

It’s better to be punished for that crime, at least.

But you only manage to put your clothes back on when you hear the front door open.

“We’re home!”

“Just in time, I think Chris needs a diaper change—he stinks.”

“Chris, come here. Let me check your diaper, honey.”

You march towards your mom like a condemned man towards the gallows.

Olivia winks as your mom peels back your diaper, loudly announcing she needs to change your poopy diaper.

“Oh, stop pouting, baby. Mommy thinks you look adorable!”

You could not disagree more.

Your light blue binky bobs in nervous anticipation, your arms crossed dramatically over your dinosaur-clad play shirt that makes no effort whatsoever to cover your half-filled Lil’ Comforts Teddy Bums diaper.

“Buh he gon’ fink I‘ma baby!”

Mommy just smiles. “You are a baby, dear.”

Your cheeks flush. Normally, you wouldn’t think twice about this outfit.

But today is not a normal day.

Mommy’s new boyfriend, Derek, is coming over to meet you for the very first time—and this is how Mommy dressed you? Of course you’re going to pout!

It was already a hard enough pill to swallow the day Mommy told you she no longer saw you as a man capable of having sex after being her baby for so long.

Especially when she started dating again, leaving you alone with her friends to babysit you.

As humiliating as it was to be babysat by women who used to respect you while your wife was out fucking some random guy, at least it happened away from you. Made it easier to pretend you weren’t some silly baby who lost any hope of sex.

Not anymore.

Tinkle spurts into your diaper when the doorbell rings. Your tummy feels like there’s a swarm of angry bees desperately trying to escape.

Until today, only women have seen you as the baby you are. You shudder at the idea of a man seeing you sitting on a play mat, with a bulging diaper and pacifier.

Knowing full well he’s there to fuck your wife.

You cringe at the casual, intimate way Mommy greets Derek. The same way she used to greet you a lifetime ago.

Just as your nerves seemed poised to overwhelm you, a beautiful woman timidly appears behind Derek.

To your surprise, Mommy greets her nearly the same as she greeted Derek. But why didn’t Mommy mention her?

You didn’t have time to dwell. “So this is the cutie I’ve heard so much about!”

Derek confidently walks straight to you, smiling warmly. The woman trails behind him, her hand in his.

“Hey, little guy! You’re even more adorable in person—and the pictures your Mommy showed me were just so stinking cute! I’m Derek and this adorable lady is Megan.”

As Megan smiles at you, you’re positive you see the faintest trace of a diaper under her pink floral dress.

“Benny,” Mommy scolds you for your silence, “That is no way to greet our guests. Be a good boy and use your manners.”

By now, your cheeks are a shade of red so deep only an artist would know the name. “H-hi Mithter Dawek an' Megan.”

Derek kneels and boops your nose. “What a sweet little boy you are! My Megan wears those same diapies!”

“Daddyyy! Only at night!” Megan argues.

“That’s right, kiddo! How can I forget how far my princess has come with her potty training?”

“Mhm! Only pullies now, Daddy!” Megan says, turning to you, “I’m not a baby in diapers!”

“Be nice, sweetie. He’s a long way off from potty training. Some babies need diapers longer than others.”

Mommy grabs Derek from behind and kisses his neck. “His diaper isn’t the only thing that’s wet, babe. I’ll be waiting upstairs.”

Derek flashes a devious grin and playfully spanks Mommy as she walks away. “I’ll be right up, babe.”

You wince every time they call each other babe.

“I get to babysit the baby like you said, right, Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie. Show Daddy you can be a responsible big girl. Do you remember what we agreed on?”

“Mhm! If my pully is dry and the baby is okay when you come back, I get to come play upstairs with Daddy and Ms. Emma!”

Derek winks at Megan. “Good girl! And remember, only come upstairs if there is an emergency. Poopy diapers are not an emergency.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Derek kissed Megan on the forehead before he ran upstairs, leaving you alone with Megan.

All the excitement you had about Megan faded away as she closed in on you, grinning with her newfound authority.

“Hello, little baby,” Megan snorted, a devious glint in her eyes. “You have to listen to whatever I say, got it?”

You spit your paci out. “Says who?”

“Says Daddy. And binky stays in, baby,” Megan commands, sliding the pacifier back into your mouth.

“Stop calling me baby! You’re in diapers, too!”

Megan rolls her eyes. “Pull-ups aren’t diapers. And besides,” Megan gloats, prodding at your wet diaper, “I’m dry, soggypants.”

“Whatever.”

“Your Mommy says you still make poopoos in your diapers. Only babies poop their diapers.”

“Shut up!”

“And that you only get cummies when you make silly baby humpies in poopy diapies! Daddy lets me play with him now that I’m out of diapers!”

Her words send shivers down your spine. “N-not true!” you lie.

“Hehehe, oh yeah? Well, your Mommy showed me a video of you humping your teddy bear! That one right there!”

A stream of pee floods your diaper.

“Awww, did the baby just piddle hims diapie?” She giggles uncontrollably at the wet squelch as she slaps your diaper.

“S-stop!” you whine feebly, hating the stupid pats yet wanting—needing—her to keep playing with your diaper.

It’s been so long since Mommy rubbed your diaper.

So very long.

Suddenly, your hips thrust forward into her palm. The movement is so pathetic, so desperate, there is no denying what you were doing.

Oh no.

“Ewwwwwww! Gross baby humpies! I’m telling your Mommy!”

Terror floods your already fuzzy brain at the thought of Mommy’s reaction. “N-no, please don’t tell Mommy! I-I’ll do anything. I’m sorry!”

“Anything?”

The way Megan said anything made you regret ever begging.

“W-well, I-I…what do you want?”

Megan grabs your special teddy bear and tosses it on the floor next to you.

“I want to watch the baby make his poopy pamper humpies!”

Your heart drops. “Bu-but i-if Mommy…if she…sees stickies in my diaper…I-I…”

“What if I tell her you tried to make gross baby humpies on my hand?”

“NO! P-please…anything but that!”

“C’mon, baby,” she coos, patting your diaper again with an air of finality, “I know you wanna. I’ll even let you look at me.”

Your head is beyond fuzzy now. She wordlessly pushes you to the floor, grabbing your legs. Slowly, she pushes your left leg to your chest. Then your right.

A rhythmic dance of pushing and pulling.

Much to Megan’s amusement, a loud, bubbly toot erupts from you before you realize what she’s doing.

“Ut oh, are you going poopy, baby? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”

Faced with the constant onslaught of bicycle kicks, the pressure in your tummy builds despite a series of bubbly toots. Each toot sounded more ominous than the last.

Megan could barely breathe from laughing, chanting, “Poopy baby! Poopy baby!” in between giggles.

Finally, the pressure hits its zenith. There’s nothing you can do to stop the inevitable.

“Awww, are you being a good babysitter and helping Benny make pushies, Megan?”

Mommy’s sudden appearance—in stunning black lingerie no less—breaks open the floodgates.

“Mpfgfff,” you grunt as a loud, bubbly mess explodes into your diaper.

“Yes, Ms. Emma! His tummy hurt and he was sooo nervous to poopoo in front of me!”

“Mgfhgff.”

“That’s so sweet of you, honey! Thank you!”

Megan beams with pride while you grunt.

“Come over here, sweetie. Your Daddy asked me to check your pull-up.”

Megan walks over to your Mommy, who slides her hand into her romper and feels her pull-up.

“Good girl, all dry! Ready to come play with me and your Daddy?” Mommy winks playfully.

“Mghhff.”

“Yes, please, Ms. Emma! But…ummm…”

“What is it, dear?”

“C-can the baby come watch? M-maybe if he sees what he’s missing, he’ll take potty training more seriously.”

Mommy laughs. “You’re such an angel, honey. But no. I don’t want my room smelling like a nursery. He’ll wait in his crib while we play. Besides, I have no plans to ever potty train him. He never satisfied me anyway. He belongs in diapers.”

“Hehehehehe, okay, Ms. Emma! I’ll help with the stinky baby.” Megan takes your hand and helps you stand up.

Your diaper, burdened by a massive mess, hangs perilously from your waist.

Between your Mommy, the continuous laughing from Megan, the ridiculously drooping diaper, and unrelenting stink, you’ve never felt more pathetically infantile.

Never felt more like a baby.

Megan slaps the bottom of your diaper. “He makes big poopies, Ms. Emma! Look at his diaper!”

“You have no idea, honey. Come on, Benny. Let’s get you in your crib. Megan, Daddy is waiting for you in my room.”

“Yes, Ms. Emma!” Megan shouts, running upstairs.

Mommy kisses your forehead. “Did you have fun with Megan, baby? Isn’t she the sweetest? She might even be your big sister one day!”

You nod uncommittedly.

Mommy leads you to your crib, handing you your favorite stuffy. The silence of the nursery is interrupted by Daddy and Megan talking.

“Oh, I forgot to mention, honey. Daddy got you a present!” Mommy says over the muffled moans.

You realize what it is.

“But remember baby. If I find any stickies in your diaper, I will spank your poopy butt in front of everyone, okay?”

“O-okay,” you whimper.

“Good boy.”

Ten minutes later, the moans from Mommy and Megan fill every space of your nursery. Not even the rapidly cooling mess dulls the throbbing in your diaper.

Or the memories of Megan’s diaper pats. And the disappointment of not getting to finish—punishment be damned.

Nothing you do gets Megan out of your head.

Surely Mommy was kidding about the big sister stuff, right?

The thought of this being a common occurrence made you shiver with fear—and arousal. You know you were in trouble as your hand drifted down to your teddy and placed it under you as you flipped on your stomach.

You humped to the rhythm of the moans on the baby monitor, imagining what it would be like to do this in front of Megan.

Your spurties came so fast and were so intense you screamed in pleasure.

The baby monitor went silent.

“If he did what I think he did, I’m going to spank him raw.”

“Let me, babe,” Derek says calmly. “We should both be responsible for disciplining our littles.”

“Not me!” Megan whines.

“Why don’t we do it together, babe. As a family.”

The baby monitor was silent again as the footsteps got louder.

You gulped as the door opened.

“Naughty baby!” Megan gloated.

The cycle repeated itself for days, and Jonah found himself falling more deeply in love with this lifestyle every hour. He began to crave the feeling of being taken care of, of being treated like a helpless infant. The spankings did sting, but their intensity was almost unbearably erotic. He even started to suck his thumb when he was feeling particularly frisky. Mommy noticed the change in behavior and encouraged it, calling him a 'good boy' whenever he expressed these desires.

They would roleplay often, with Mommy acting out scenarios of a mother taking care of her baby boy. She would tickle him until he squealed in delight or change his diaper in public without a care. Each instance sent thrilling chills down Jonah's spine. He even began to dress in more girly clothing, pleasing her. The once nauseating thought of wearing dresses now felt comforting, even arousing.

One afternoon, while they were watching a cartoon together, Mommy suggested they do a poopy challenge. She placed him on the potty chair but explained that if he filled his diaper he would be rewarded with extra attention and snuggles. Jonah reluctantly agreed, not wanting to disappoint his newfound mommy. As the show continued, he could feel his bowels rumbling. He tried to hold it in but couldn't last much longer when he felt a warm gush of pee against his skin. He immediately called for Mommy's help, and she rushed to him, laughing softly as she cleaned him up.

He was rewarded with a warm hug and several kisses on the forehead, making him feel incredibly loved. They spent the rest of the day smearing their faces with apple sauce and watching Netflix kids shows. Their bond deepened as Jonah realized this was what he needed all along: someone to take care of him, someone to see him not as a submissive but as their own.

In my lifetime… I probably have been caught more than 5 times. My family never really got the memo why I kept doing it or why I keep getting and wearing diapers for myself. They always just tend to laugh on the idea that I am of age that doesn’t need to be in diapers anymore. Yes, I am not incontinent nor a bed wetter anymore… but diapers or regressing are the one that keeps me feel like myself whenever I feel stressed or scared of the world around me, so you can say that I am regressing or using diapers as a coping mechanism to ease my anxiety or my thoughts of depression.

One of the memorable ones I got caught was when I was probably around 16 years old, my family was planning to have a sleepover at my godmother’s house for Christmas for 3 days and we are leaving the house like a day after it was planned. So me since I know I won’t be able to regress or use diapers for the span of 3 days, so I figured I’d use one to at least calm my mind. So a day passed… and as you know, I used a diaper for what they’re used for… during the night. I completely filled it up and of course remove it due to me not wanting to get caught by my family members and threw it in my bedroom bin, and that’s where I made the biggest amateur-hour as an ABDL. So a day passed once again and we leave the house to go to my godmother’s house to celebrate christmas for 3 days…

3 days passed… we just got home and as we walked in the door, we were greeted by this stench. We were baffled on where the smell was coming from, including me. I was clueless on where the smell was coming from, my family started looking around the house for dead animals such as rats that might have died when we left the house. So we bravely smell our way to the source and they of course went to my room and searched every corner of my room to see where it is coming from. My older brother smelled his way to my room’s rubbish bin and there he saw it. A diaper just sitting there, left for 3 days and rotting its smell in the whole house. Of course my parents came to me and ask why is there a diaper in my bin. I started thinking of ways to get out of the situation but can’t think of any due to my embarrassment, so I just stood there saying I don’t know over and over again. But of course this isn’t my family’s first rodeo with me getting caught that time so they already know it was mine. I just couldn’t find a reason at all to get out of that situation.

I am completely embarrassed by that situation due to me being a younger brother by my older brother and an older brother to two of my younger sisters. So everyone was judging me and also staring at me weirdly, which I hate being the center of attention even for my own family. Then the day after that they kept teasing me about it which caused me to have mental breakdowns which I never show them and lock myself in the room.

It was one traumatic experience for me but that never really stopped me from doing the things I wanted. I just learn from my mistakes and take extra precautions for it. I now have a track record of 8 years of not getting caught and I am hoping it still carries on.

And so continues your arduous trek back to Space Mountain. About 80 yards, less than a football field that will certainly feel like miles. The thick, soft padding rustles with each careful step you take, stretching fully up from above your buttocks looped all the way around your crotch to just below the belly button. A hint of baby powder wafts in the air, catching your nose when the wind blows just right. Attempting to squeeze your legs closer together to avoid your slight waddle only creates a more prominent bulge in all of your diaper areas. You choose this over any type of waddle. One small positive is your lightweight collared shirt is fairly long, and it hides some of the swell in your pants. Your fate as a diaper wearer for the remainder of the day has been sealed, it seems, unless this mystery woman Renee decides to graciously remove it early for you. Panic begins to set in as you arrive at the ride’s exit and begin to look around for the rest of your coworkers.

“Hey you,” you hear a woman’s voice from behind. It was Tara. “We were looking everywhere for you for several minutes. Where’d you sneak off to? Not working I hope…”

“I… uh, had to go to the bathroom. Good to go now though,” you meekly respond. “Must have walked off just before you guys were getting off of the ride.”

“Well don’t be a loner and purposely lag behind the team. C’mon, we’re heading toward Fantasyland,” she happily states before finding a spot near the back of the group, immediately to your right.

And so the group walks steadily towards Fantasyland…. “Tea Cups,” “Winnie the Poo,” “Small World“ and “Seven Dwarf’s Mine Train” to name a few. Tara is her typical chatterbox self, going on and on about this and that, some work, some personal. She seems to have taken an even greater liking to your presence.

Inside, you are a complete and utter mess. Every step you take is an anxious one and thoughts swirl. “Can she see it through my pants? Why would she even be looking there, you idiot?? Does she hear the quiet rustling noises? Can they be heard at all, or is it all in my head?? Do I smell like I’m wearing a diaper?! Do I smell like a baby??!??”

Just as you have this final thought a woman walks by pushing a stroller and Tara leans over and takes a peak, “awwwww what a cutie, and sound asleep, too. And…. *sniff* *sniff* *sniff* I can smell that fresh diaper baby powder scent!” She closes her eyes and breathes in deeply. “God, I love that smell!”

Her words catch you off guard, you tense up, and your face goes completely flush at her words… “Did she actually just smell me instead of that baby?? Her face did lean in a little closer!”

“Are you feeling ok?” Tara asks in a concerned tone. “Your face is all red. Have you had any water since we arrived? I know it’s not THAT hot yet, like Summer hot, but we still gotta stay hydrated, ya know?” she shrugs.

You do feel exceptionally thirsty, but water equates to peeing in your mind. And this is not the time nor place nor day to be peeing! 

“Here, I insist. And no buts. You’re going to drink this whole thing, ok? The last thing we want is someone having to go home early sick and cause an issue with our team building day,” Tara rattles through these comments as she hands you a 32oz bottle of water. 

“I expect that to be all drank up within the hour Mr,” she smiles and playfully teases, almost in a commanding tone, clearly becoming more and more comfortable with flirting with you.

Normally, you would be flirting right back with Tara, to some extent at least… probably still blushing, but for totally different reasons. Tara is very outgoing, and though you’re certainly not an introvert, you fall somewhere in between outgoing and inward leaning on the scale. This balance between you two is nice, and she’s liking what is being read as a hint of shyness… 

The work group makes its way into the line for the Seven Dwarfs Mine Train, and she continues with further attempts to get you talking… “so yea… because of all that stuff, I’m currently not seeing anyone. Me and my last boyfriend called it quits back around Thanksgiving. What about you? You seem like a catch. Have you been ‘caught’ yet?” she playfully asks, almost with a twinkle in her eye.  

You take a big swig of the water, realizing it is well over half gone, then answer, “not at the moment. My college girlfriend and I called it quits during our senior year. And since then it’s been all finish school then work focus for me. I’ve been on a couple dates, but that has been the extent of it.”

“I guess I’m just waiting to find someone particularly special,” you state, then shuffle your weight, causing a quick but audible crinkle sound. Tara doesn’t seem to notice but when the line starts to move again she speaks up…

“I swear I keep smelling baby,” Tara blurts out. “Like, baby powder or baby lotion, something babyish. Hmmm, god, I’ve always loved that smell. Oh well. That scent is just so alluring for some reason!”

You blush and instinctively turn away. This line cannot move fast enough!! Fortunately, this is a promo day and it’s mostly companies and their employees in the park. You quickly find yourself seated in a mine train car and off you go!

The ride finally ends and everyone exits the ride. You quickly scoot forward hoping to evade Tara, but she finds you before the ride’s exit line ends. 

“That was amazing!” Tara shouts. “Did you have fun?”

“Uhhhh yea, it was great,” you follow up, shrugging, clearly not enjoying the ride as much as everyone else did, due to your predicament. 

“Awww what’s wrong? Are you still parched? Here… I’ve got plenty more waters, drink up! We gotta make sure you are properly hydrated! And I bet you had nothing but coffee all morning like I see you drink at the office. We’ll be having none of that! The day is just getting started!”

“But really Tara…. I insist, I’m good…” you respond, but are immediately cut off mid-sentence.
 
“Now now, it never hurt anyone to drink a little EXTRA water. Stop being difficult. I expect that bottle to be gone by the end of lunch. We’re off to eat!”

You look down at your watch, “12:15.” And so the group makes its way for lunch…. hamburgers, hotdogs, pizza, you name it, your choice. All of the excitement from the past two hours has made you exceptionally hungry and a double hamburger with extra fries is in order. 

You exit the food line and attempt to find yourself a spot with the group but only one remains…. Next to Tara, of course! “And she probably saved that spot,” you think to yourself. 

Slowly… you make your way over and sit down, diaper still the only thing on your mind with every step you take. The extra thick padding a constant reminder of what you’ve been turned into by Renee, this mystery “mommy.” “Psycho mommy, more like,” you find yourself thinking. 

*Poof* you sit, and the diaper makes a soft, but undeniable crinkle noise to anyone sitting next to you, which at this point, is Tara. A puff of baby powder smell emits from your diaper area adding to the undeniable. 

No one else notices… except Tara. She immediately jerks her head and stares intently down at the seat of your pants, then at your face, then back down at your butt again before sniffing the air several times. It’s at this exact moment that she first suspects something. It’s also at this exact moment that your phone lights up…. A text from “Mommy.”

You notice Tara’s reaction but attempt to remain calm and eat your burger and fries. But now, now, an intense curiosity has been unleashed within her. She barely eats her food and instead chooses to hyper focus on you, your actions, your demeanor, your words with other coworkers, everything. She knows something is up. There is a heat to her stare, and it’s impossible to avoid.

“Let’s do haunted mansion, next!” someone suggest. “Yea, that sounds perfect.” “Oh my god, I love that ride so much!” Everyone has their mind’s set on what’s next. 

Hearing this cues you to scarf down what remains of your burger and fries and excuse yourself. “I’m going to head to the restroom before we move along,” you state.

You make it to the bathroom and lock yourself in a stall, not to “go” but to check your text messages in private, away from Tara.. “What the hell did this Renee lady send me?” you think. You notice the first feelings of having to pee but the feelings are quickly pushed to the side.

“Just checking in on you. Hope you’re being a good boy… a “big” boy ❤️ and staying dry. Let Mommy know if you need a change or anything, Sweetie. And don’t fret, that diaper can hold several pee pees! xoxo”

First, you blush hard, then finally whisper to yourself  “seriously??? ‘Pee pees’?” You adjust your belt and move your hands to fiddle with the lock and wires. “These things are not coming off!” you think to yourself. “Goddamnit! This Renee woman is going to have to remove this lock at some point! Shit!” You keep pulling and prodding with all your might but to no avail. Finally after a couple minutes, you frustratingly leave the restroom.

As everyone briskly walks towards the Haunted Mansion, your urgency to pee slowly increases. The 2 morning cups of coffee on the way to the park, plus 2 large bottled waters are making their way through your system and fast. To top things off, you’ve always had a somewhat weak bladder, as well. Things are not looking good at all, as you arrive in line, close to the ride’s entrance. 

You made every effort to avoid Tara on the walk over, but she finds you again once in line. An overwhelming awkward feeling comes over you and her creating an uncomfortable dynamic. Tara, usually chatty, has become exceptionally quiet. She remains just off your left side as the line slowly moves forward, sometimes moving just in front of you and other times trailing behind. 

You feel the heat from her gaze, and swear you notice her eyes repeatedly glancing downwards then back forward again, as if she is sizing you up. And then, to your absolute horror, she leans in close to your left ear and softly whispers…

“Are you wearing a diaper?!”

Your eyes widen in horror, “No, I’m not. What are you talking about?” You quietly, but firmly respond back to Tara.

“You are, aren’t you???”

“I closely watched your cute little tush all the way from lunch to here. There’s a noticeable outline of a fucking diaper underneath those khakis in both the back and front! I just know it! And the baby powder smells…” it’s now completely dawning on her. “That was YOU I was smelling the entire time, wasn’t it?!?!”

You swallow hard and begin to feel your face radiate as she continues…

“You said earlier you went to the bathroom while we were getting off of Space Mountain. Awww did someone give himself a diapie change?” Tara whispers, almost cooing and loving this control she has over your secret.

She continues right along, whispering in your left ear more, “It’s ok, baby, your secret is safe with me. I won’t tell anyone. However, I’m going to be sitting with you on every single ride we do until we leave. And very close, at that… you smell so….” Tara purposely drops something and bends over to pick it up, pausing with her nose right in front of your diapered ass for a couple seconds as she takes in an exceptionally deep breathe before returning her mouth to your ear… “fucking amazing! God, that smell!!”

Your need to urinate increases with every passing minute, almost to desperation, and aligning with your groups arrival inside the attraction.

“I bet all that water you drank earlier is quickly trickling through that body of yours, isn’t it?” Tara teases, leaning in yet again whispering into your ear, as you both wait for your ride car. “Don’t have any accidents now, you hear.” You catch her smirking just as the moving sidewalk leads you two to the car. She has no idea how desperate you already are…. 

And down goes the security bar, securing you both together for at least the next 3 minutes or so. 

You are quickly thrown into a fantasy world of 100s of ghosts, 999 to be exact. And they’re looking for their 1,000th (you)! 

Moment by slow moment, the ride continues on and your urgency increases with it. You begin to uncontrollably fidget, and Tara glances knowingly over toward you and look directly at your diapered crotch and smiles.

“Now now, pay attention to the ride,” Tara giggles at your obvious stress. “This is why we are here. To relax. And to team build.”

The urge grows stronger and stronger as you feel the dam slowly giving way. Small spurts of pee leak as you continue to desperately squeeze your PC muscle with all of your might! Your bladder is at the end of its rope, however, and it begins to cramp, to resist your control, to fight back on its own. Several more spurts release… And then it finally happens….

The dam gives way. Your bladder cramps hard against you making your attempts at holding futile. You immediately begin to flood your diaper. You instinctively attempt to squeeze again and again, but it’s useless.

The warm flood of piss quickly fills the front of your diaper as you make a weak, helpless pull on the security bar and continue to wet. The embarrassment and shame fill every fiber of your being as you wet yourself like a toddler. Tara stares directly at your face with a knowing look on hers. As the ride nears the end, you finally finish going, filling up the bottom side of the diaper some, as well, as you begin to fight off tears from forming in your eyes. Then, you feel Tara’s warm, comforting hand on your thigh.

“There, there. It’s ok. Accidents happen to everyone. Clearly you were prepared though, and at least half way expecting this might happen today, right?” Tara looks down at your now much more ballooned crotch area, not knowing you didn’t wear this…. this… “thing” to the park on your own accord, “and look, dry as a bone. No one will notice.”

A tear begins to leak from the corner of your right eye, and she reaches up to immediately wipe it away. 

Tara leans in and quietly states, “This will be our little secret, Mr. Potty Pants,” and with that, the safety bar lifts and you feel Tara’s hand pull you out of your seat. The warm, squishy diaper encases your most private parts and holds firm around your front and back as you walk off of the ride, never feeling more like a toddler than you do right now. 
* crinkle* *crinkle* *squish* *squish* with every slow step.

You look down and check the time, “2:20. We’ve got several more hours to go….