NO MINORS!! 18+ only đ. 31 year old ABDL. I love diapers, onesies, pacifiers and just being a baby in general. Keep me diapered and I will be happy. Little age 1-2. Feel free to DM me.
[ABDL. F/f. 'Big girl' goes back to daycare.]
End, Pt. 1 - Chapter 1
Emma stood in the kitchen for a moment, a strange, humming electricity under her skin, a mixture of lingering shame and a blossoming, desperate curiosity. Obediently, she turned toward the bathroom, her wet Goodnite squelching with every step. She knew what Olivia had in her car, but why?
The shower was a blur of steam and hot water. Emma hastily scrubbed the remnants of the afternoon from her skin, her mind looping back to the way Olivia had spoken to her. As she stepped out and patted herself dry, she felt an odd sense of anticipation to hear it again. Tugging on a fresh t-shirt, she didn't reach for her usual Goodnite, cotton panties, or a pair of lounge pants. She had a feeling she wouldn't need them. Instead, she walked back into the living room, completely bare from the waist down, her skin still damp and smelling of honey-scented soap.
The house was quiet, but a soft light spilled from the daycare's main playroom. Emma stepped inside and found Olivia waiting for her, standing in the center of the colorful rug. Olivia wasn't smiling; she had a focused, maternal expression that made Emma feel like she was barely three feet tall. Without a word, Olivia pointed toward the oversized changing table in the corner. It was a heavy-duty piece of equipment designed for the older toddlers, though it looked diminutive compared to Emma's adult frame.
"Up you go," Olivia commanded, her voice leaving no room for argument.
Emma hesitated, her eyes darting from the colorful alphabet blocks on the rug to the vinyl-covered surface of the changing table. The table was sturdy, but it was designed for toddlers, and the thought of hoisting her adult frame onto it felt absurd. Yet, the authoritative glint in Olivia's eyes acted like a magnet, pulling her forward. With a soft blush creeping up her neck, Emma stepped forward and climbed onto the table, her skin sticking slightly to the cool, waterproof surface. She lay back, feeling exposed and small, her legs dangling off the edge as she looked up at the ceiling of the daycare.
As Olivia stepped closer, the crinkle of a plastic bag echoed through the quiet room. Emma noticed that the usual bins of baby wipes and disposable diapers had been pushed aside. In their place was a curated station dedicated entirely to her. There were oversized tubs of thick barrier cream and a stack of those heavy, crinkly adult diapers that Olivia had introduced her to on Friday night. These weren't the sleek, pull-on style of the Goodnites; these were the real deal, with thick padding and wide, adhesive tape tabs.
Olivia reached for the stack, the plastic rustling loudly in the stillness of the playroom. She didn't move with the tentative gentleness of a friend, but with the efficient, practiced rhythm of someone who had spent hours assisting toddlers in this very room. She unfolded a large, printed diaper, her eyes tracking the way Emmaâs chest rose and fell with shallow, nervous breaths, before sliding it under her bottom.
"I can't believe you had all this in your car," Emma murmured, more to herself than to Olivia, lifting her hips slightly to help.
Olivia didn't respond with words, only a small, knowing smile as she reached for the tub of cream. She scooped out a generous dollop of the thick, white paste, her fingers warm as she applied it with slow, methodical strokes across Emma's skin.
"What even is that stuff?" Emma asked, her voice sounding tiny as she felt the thick, cooling sensation of the barrier cream spreading across her skin.
"Such a chatty baby girl tonight," Olivia murmured, her voice humming with a quiet authority that made Emma's heart race. She didn't explain the cream. Because she didn't have to. Once she seemed to have decided that Emma's skin was thoroughly protected, she dusted her with baby powder. The fine, white cloud drifted upward, filling the air with a nostalgic, powdery scent that seemed to trigger something deep in Emma's lizard brain. It smelled like safety. It smelled like a world where no one expected a resume or a five-year plan. As the powder settled, Olivia pulled the front of the diaper up between her legs, testing the alignment and the fit, before securing each of the four tapes one by one.
Emma let out a long, shaky sigh, her body sinking deeper into the vinyl.
Olivia wiped her hands on her jeans, admiring her handiwork for a long moment, her gaze distant, thoughts elsewhere. "You know, I think I prefer it when you have a little more fight in you. Not that I don't appreciate a well-behaved baby on the changing table."
Emma felt the thick, crinkly bulk of the diaper wrapped around her hips, a stark contrast to the streamlined fit of the Goodnites. This felt like an event, a commitment. The tape tabs were tight, creating a secure, cocooning sensation that made her feel anchored to the spot. She looked up at Olivia, her expression soft and searching. "What now?"
"Now, you keep that diaper on all night," Olivia replied matter-of-factly. "You've got enough cream and powder on to last until I change you before work tomorrow morning."
Emmaâs eyes widened, and she instinctively tried to sit up, the thick padding of the diaper crinkling loudly under her. "No way!" she exclaimed, her voice regaining a flicker of its usual adult cadence. "All night? You can't just be leave me in a diaper for twelve hours straight!"
Olivia didn't look surprised. Instead, a slow, triumphant smile spread across her face. "There she is."
"Be serious. I can't just stay in this until tomorrow. It's not practical, and it's⊠it's a lot." She tried to make her voice sound firm, but it came out as a soft, pleading whine.
"If you're good for your babysitter, I'll think about changing you before bed. How about that?" Olivia countered, her voice smooth and uncompromising. She reached out and gave the front of the diaper a playful, firm pat, the plastic crinkling loudly under her palm. "But for now, you're just a baby. And babies don't make the rules, they follow them."
Emma opened her mouth to argue, but the words died in her throat. The feeling of the thick padding, the lingering scent of the baby powder, and the way Olivia was looking at her with such effortless control made the protest feel irrelevant.
"I'll be good," Emma whispered, her voice barely a breath.
Olivia beamed, the authoritative mask softening into a look of genuine affection. She reached down, hooking her arms under Emmaâs armpits and hoisting her off the changing table with a grunt of effort.
Emmaâs legs felt heavy and clumsy, the bulk of the adult diaper forcing her to waddle as her feet hit the playroom rug. The plastic backing rustled with every micro-movement, a constant, crinkly reminder that this was her new reality for the next few hours.
"I went ahead and ordered the pizza, but it'll be a little while yet." Olivia announced, her voice humming with that same playful authority. "Let's get you set up with some toys." She didn't lead Emma by the hand; instead, she pointed toward a scattered pile of colorful plastic blocks and primary-colored rings. "Crawl over there, Em. Let's see you build me a tower."
Emma froze, her face heating up. "You want me to⊠on the floor?" she asked, her tone incredulous. The thought of descending to the level below a toddler felt like a final surrender of the few grown-up shreds she had left. But Olivia didn't budge, her arms crossed over her chest.
With a shaky exhale, Emma lowered herself. The diaper crinkled loudly, the thick padding bunching between her thighs as she settled onto her hands and knees. She felt ridiculous, an adult woman, diapered ass swaying in the air, but the look of expectation on Olivia's face acted like a command. And⊠she was following commands tonight, right? Maybe it would get easier? She could just⊠do what is asked of her.
Emma began to stack the blocks, her movements tentative at first, but eventually she found the fun.
"Now, the coloring books are all the way across the room," Olivia commanded, pointing toward the reading nook. "Crawl to them, baby girl."
"I'm not done!" she began to whine, but Olivia simply shook her head.
By the time she reached the crayons, the shame had dissolved into a strange, floating lightness. She leaned back on her heels, the thick diaper supporting her bottom like a soft cushion, and began to scribble a messy, purple sun on a piece of construction paper. She looked up at Olivia and realized she was smiling, a genuine, toothy grin.
"You're such a good girl, Em," Olivia murmured, her voice warm as she stepped closer to inspect the artwork. "Look at you, following all the rules. I bet you're thinking about how much better this is than a job interview, aren't you?"
"Ugh. Kinda," Emma admitted, her voice small as she switched crayons. "But let's not bring the j-word up tonight, please?"
Olivia chuckled, the sound echoing in the quiet of the playroom. She reached down and scratched Emma behind the ear, a gesture that made Emma lean into the touch like a kitten. "Deal. No more talking about the scary adult world. Just you and me."
Olivia didn't let her linger over the coloring book for long. She stood up and took a few steps toward the center of the room, her expression shifting back into that focused, maternal command. "Alright, little one. Time to move. Follow me to the play kitchen."
Emma blinked, her gaze drifting from the purple sun to Oliviaâs expectant face. The thick padding crinkled loudly as she shifted, the sound filling the quiet room. Olivia didn't reach out to help her; instead, she simply turned and began to walk slowly toward the plastic kitchen set, her pace measured so that Emma would have to struggle to keep up.
"Hurry up, slowpoke," Olivia teased, her voice humming with that same playful authority.
Emma let out a soft huff, her palms pressing into the colorful foam tiles of the playroom floor, the plastic backing of her diaper rubbing against her thighs in a way that made her feel delightfully ungainly.
The play kitchen was well-appointed with pots and pans and little plastic broccolis and wooden eggs. As she reached the toy oven, Emma looked up, her eyes searching Olivia's for the next instruction.
"You'll have to preheat it first," Olivia instructed, her voice dipping into a playful, maternal hum. She leaned over Emma, her presence enveloping and warm, as she pointed toward the plastic dial on the toy oven. Emma reached up and turned the knob, eliciting a few small plastic clicks.
Together, they began the elaborate process of baking a pretend cake. Olivia guided Emma's hands, showing her how to stir an invisible batter in a tiny plastic bowl and how to carefully pour the imaginary mixture into a toy pan. There was something meditative about the shared focus, a quiet intimacy that flourished in the absence of real-world expectations. Emma felt her shoulders drop, the tension of the past few months finally evaporating as she focused entirely on the imaginary flour and sugar.
"Now we just have to let it bake," Olivia whispered, her voice a soft, guiding presence. She helped Emma slide the pan into the toy oven, her arm brushing against Emma's shoulder, before asking Emma to set an imaginary timer. "Now, count down from ten, okay sweetie? Do you know how?"
Emma frowned. "Of course I know how," she muttered, though the edge of her voice was softer now, more compliant. She took a deep breath and began to count. "Ten⊠nine⊠eightâŠ"
Olivia clapped her hands together as Emma hit one, "Ding! The cake is done!" she exclaimed, her voice bright and encouraging. She helped Emma pull the imaginary treat from the plastic oven, but not before sliding miniature oven mitts onto a couple of her fingers.
Just as Emma began to lean in to admire the invisible frosting, the sharp, sudden chime of the doorbell echoed through the house. The sound sliced through the quiet of the playroom like a siren. Emma gasped, her entire body jolting with a sudden, visceral surge of panic. The ghost of her normal self screamed in alarm, terrified that some unexpected adult guest might walk through the front door and find her playing pretend on the floor in a thick, crinkly diaper. Without thinking, she dove for cover, scrambled backward on her hands and knees, the plastic backing of her diaper rustling loudly as she lunged toward the shadow of the oversized changing table. She pressed her back against the wall, curling into a tight ball and pulling her knees up to her chest. She held her breath, her heart hammering against her ribs, feeling utterly exposed and absurdly small.
The door opened, shut, and Olivia peeked her Pink hair around the table, now holding a pizza box. She didn't look concerned by Emma's sudden dive for cover; instead, her expression was one of mild amusement. "Who's hiding back there?" she asked, her voice echoing with a playful, sing-song quality. "Is there a little baby hiding in the shadows? A very crinkly little baby?"
Emma felt her face heat up, the adrenaline of the scare slowly fading into a warm, buzzing sensation. She looked up at Olivia, her eyes wide.
"It was the pizza guy, silly goose!" she chirped. "Let's eat! We can have your cake for dessert."
Emma slowly uncurled from her ball, crawled out from behind the table.
"You can stop crawling if you want," Olivia said, a triumphant grin creeping across her face.
Emma stood up, dumbly. She hadn't really meant to keep crawling⊠She just⊠Did.
Olivia didn't give her time to overthink it. She reached out and took Emma by the hand, guiding her out of the playroom. As they entered the kitchen, the smell of hot pepperoni and melted cheese filled the air, but Olivia didn't head for the table. Instead, she stopped in her tracks and turned to face Emma, her eyes dancing with a mischievous glint.
"Before we eat, we need to get you dressed for dinner," Olivia announced. She reached into the daycare supplies and pulled out a large, plastic-backed bib with a colorful cartoon animal on the front. Then, she pointed toward Emma's t-shirt. "Off this goes, Emmy! Take your shirt off so you can wear your bib. We can't have pizza sauce all over your clothes."
Emma froze, her eyes widening. The grown-up in her, though rapidly losing ground, gave one final, frantic gasp of protest. "No fucking way!" she exclaimed, her voice jumping an octave. The thought of being stripped down to just her thick, crinkly diaper while eating pizza felt like a leap too far. She instinctively crossed her arms over her chest, feeling a sudden, sharp need to shield herself.
Olivia didn't look impressed by the resistance. She stepped closer, her expression shifting into that firm, parental mask that Emma had found so intoxicatingly commanding. "Now, don't be difficult, Emmy. Pizza is messy. Do you want sauce dripping and ruining your shirt?" She paused, her gaze dropping to the Emma's diaper. A slow, teasing smile curved her lips. "And it's not like I haven't already seen a lot more than your little boobies."
The surface logic was sound, but that didn't stop the heat from blooming across Emma's cheeks.. She looked at the bib, then back at Olivia, seeing the expectation in the younger girl's eyes. Slowly, her fingers trembling slightly, Emma reached for the hem of her t-shirt. She pulled the fabric over her head, tossing the garment onto the nearby kitchen chair. She stood there, bare from the chest down to her ankles, feeling the cool air of the kitchen hit her skin.
"That was so easy!" she chirped, stepping forward to fasten the velcro tabs of the bib around Emma's neck. "Such a good listener. With only a bit of a potty mouth."
The plastic material felt stiff against her skin, the cartoon giraffe on the front staring blankly forward. She felt ridiculously exposed, her midriff bare and her hips swollen with padding. The small bib did nothing to cover her breasts, or her rapidly stiffening nipples, yet the way Olivia looked at her with such proud, maternal approval made the embarrassment start feel like a warm blanket. Kind of. It was still a lot.
Olivia guided her toward the kitchen table, her hand resting firmly on the small of Emma's back. The crinkle of the diaper was loud in the quiet room, a rhythmic, plastic rustle that punctuated every clumsy step Emma took. Instead of letting her climb into a chair normally, Olivia made a meal of helping her sit down into it. The thick bulk of the diaper made sitting down an exciting new process, the padding compressing beneath her with a soft, airy huff.
Olivia sat opposite her, the pizza box open between them. The steam from the pepperoni and melted cheese wafted upward, but Olivia didn't simply slide the box toward Emma. Instead, she reached for a plastic knife and began to carefully slice a single slice into tiny, bite-sized squares. Another complaint momentarily rose in Emma's throat, but as she looked at Olivia's focused expression, the words dissolved. Why hit the brakes now?
"Here comes the plane," Olivia sing-songed, lifting a small piece of crust and cheese toward Emma's lips.
Emma felt a fresh surge of heat climb from her chest to her temples. The absurdity of the situation was absolute, yet as she looked at the small piece of pizza, she felt a strange, magnetic pull. She didn't have to decide what to eat, how much to eat, or even how to hold the food. She only had to exist and be provided for. It didn't matter how it went in, and it didn't matter how it came out anymore for that matter. As if on cue, she dribbled into her diaper.
Several more airplanes landed in Emma's mouth, each bite of pizza tasting more and more delicious than any meal she had eaten in months. The act of simply being fed left her in a state of blissful, sensory focus. She leaned back in the chair, her body feeling heavy and warm, while the thick padding of her diaper swelled with the quiet, steady release of her bladder.
"I could go to bed right now," Emma announced after a second slice, her eyes closed and head lolling.
"It's like 6:30," Olivia replied with a smirk. "I know you're just a baby, but this is a little extreme."
"I'm just content. My stomach is full. My heart is full My diaper is getting fullâŠ"
Olivia chuckled, the sound warm and genuine. She reached out to brush a stray lock of hair from Emma's forehead, her fingers lingering for a moment. "Your defenses really have just completely collapsed, haven't they?"
Emma leaned into the touch, her eyes fluttering shut. "Tonight is my gift to you. Enjoy it. Because I'm back to high-powered career woman tomorrow."
Oliviaâs smile didn't reach her eyes, though her expression remained soft. "Why can't it be both? Work hard, play hard?"
Emma let out a small, sleepy huff, the plastic of her diaper crinkling as she shifted in the wooden chair. "Because I don't want to do both. If I really gave in to what I want, I'd be enrolled in this daycare tomorrow as an infant. No⊠I'd hire you as my personal babysitter so I'd have you all to myself."
Olivia frowned. "I'm flattered, but⊠I want the whole Emma. Not just the baby side."
The honesty in Olivia's voice caught Emma off guard. She opened one eye, looking at the younger woman who had spent the last few hours dismantling every adult boundary she owned.
"I⊠don't think I want to have this conversation with my girls out," Emma murmured, looking down at her exposed breasts. "Can I have my shirt back?"
Olivia didn't move to get the shirt. Instead, she leaned in, her gaze softening as she studied Emma's face. "So you do understand there's a time and place to be big."
Emma rolled her eyes. "Of course I do. But 'big' Emma isn't me either. It's just some dumb character I put on to be gainfully employed. That's why it's so exhausting."
Olivia reached out and gently squeezed Emma's knee. "You don't have to kill one version of yourself to let the other live. That's the exhausting part."
"Well it has worked for me so far," Emma said.
"Has it?" Olivia asked. Quietly. As if she wanted the words back the moment they left.
"That's not fair," Emma said. "You only met me after the layoff and after the end of my relationship."
Olivia leaned back in her chair, the playful authority of the last few hours settling into something more grounded and contemplative. "I just want you to be happy with yourself, Em. I think you're lying to the both of us right now."
"What do you want me to do?" Emma asked, earnestly. She was just a woman in a wet diaper, sitting across from a twenty-two-year-old who seemed to see through and/or smash down every single wall she had ever built.
Olivia didn't answer immediately. She stood up and walked across the kitchen, her footsteps soft on the linoleum. "I don't know. Saturday morning sucked when you went into career mode and hit the eject button. But⊠tonight is kind of weird too."
Emma shifted in her chair. "Weird how?"
"I don't like that you called tonight a 'gift.' You're just⊠letting me do whatever I want," Olivia explained, her voice dropping into a softer, more intimate register. She stopped just behind Emma's chair, resting her hands on the wooden backrest. "It's like you've switched off your brain entirely. I don't know if you like what we're doing. I don't know if you're just doing it out of obligation. Or like, some desire to punish yourself. I don't want a doll, Emma."
The tears falling down Emma's face caught her by surprise. She dabbed her eyes. When had she started crying? She was frustrated. "I'm just trying to make you happy!" she stammered.
Olivia sighed and stepped around the chair, kneeling so she was at eye level with Emma. The stark contrast was jarring; Olivia was now the one looking up, though her gaze remained steady and searching. "I'm happy. I'm over the moon. I love my life. I love my job. And I love what we have. Are you happy?"
Emma looked down at her lap, at the cartoony diaper. She thought about the crushing pressure of the last few months, the silence of a phone that wouldn't ring with job offers, the phantom feeling of a bed that used to be twice as wide and hold someone else. She thought about the absolute elation of finally getting that call back, the validation of the interview. Then she thought about Olivia, her radical acceptance of this strange, crinkly secret, and the slow, steady erosion of every last barrier she built between them.
"I'm getting there," she finally answered. "Even if this is the second time today I've cried in front of you." She felt something running out of her nose, sniffled.
The confession felt fragile, a small seed of truth planted in the middle of the kitchen's fluorescent glow. Emma looked at Olivia, seeing not just a caregiver or a friend, but the first person who had looked at her wreckage and decided it was worth keeping.
Olivia smiled, grasped Emma's hands. "All of this is all of you. Don't throw any of it away, dummy."
Fresh tears. "Ugh, okay, okay! Fine! I was being a dummy," Emma whispered, a small, genuine laugh bubbling up. "So what now?"
Olivia looked at her phone. "I still have you for about 2 hours, so now you're going to continue being my baby." She stood up and offered a hand to Emma, pulling her out of the chair with a gentle tug, dabbing her face with a napkin.
"Wait, wait, ugh, wait!" she stammered, dodging the napkin to get the words out. "You were just preaching about not killing one version of myself to let the other live, but now you're just flipping the switch back to baby mode? Where is the balance in that?"
Olivia grinned. "You also said tonight was a 'gift,' right? I'm taking full advantage."
"You said it weirded you out!" Emma countered, stomping her foot.
"I got over it."
"Can I at least have my shirt back?" Emma asked, regarding her bare chest as Olivia unsnapped the bib.
"Nope!" Olivia chirped, whisking Emma back into the playroom, out of arm's reach of her discarded t-shirt. Instead, Olivia guided her toward the well-worn corduroy couch sat beneath a dim lamp. With a swift motion, she grabbed a massive, plush fleece blanket from the armrest and draped it over Emma's shoulders, wrapping the fabric tightly around her, swaddling her until only her head peeked out from the soft, white wool, effectively cocooning her in a warm, fabric shell.
Emma let out a muffled sound of protest, but the warmth was immediate, comforting, and better than being naked. She felt like a giant burrito, her arms pinned to her sides. "Ugh, fine," she muttered.
"Just stay put, little one," Olivia commanded, giving the bundle of fleece a final, firm pat. "I'm going to get you your after dinner beverage."
Emma sank deeper into the cushions, the weight of the blanket pressing her down into the soft fabric of the couch. She felt immobile and secure, her restricted movements making her feel smaller than she actually was. From the quiet of the living room, the distant, rhythmic hum of the microwave began to drone from the kitchen. The sound sparked a memory of Friday night, a recollection of the warm, sweet liquid and the heavy lidded sleepiness that followed. She knew exactly what was happening in that kitchen-- Olivia was preparing another bottle of warm fairy milk.
The silence that followed the microwave's beep was brief. Emma heard the soft clink of a bottle being capped and the familiar padding of Olivia's footsteps returning to the room. As Olivia approached, the dim lamp cast long, amber shadows across the walls, adding to the hazy, timeless feeling of the evening.
Olivia didn't just sit beside her; she shifted Emma's cocooned body with practiced ease, guiding her to lie back across her lap. The position was inherently vulnerable, leaving Emma to look up at the ceiling while her head rested on Olivia's soft thighs.
Without a word, she produced the bottle. The silicone nipple brushed against Emma's lips, smelling faintly of vanilla and cinnamon. As Emma opened her mouth to accept it, the warm liquid flowed, thick and soothing. It was exactly like Friday night, a sensory anchor that dragged the rest of the world away. The tension Emma was holding in her face melted away, and her eyes began to drift shut, her breathing syncing with the rhythmic pull of the bottle.
Olivia's free hand gently combed through Emma's hair. The touch was tender, devoid of the strict authority from earlier, replaced by a quiet intimacy. Emma felt a wave of profound relaxation wash over her, starting at the crown of her head and sinking down through her shoulders. The cocoon of the fleece blanket held her tight, while the diaper firmly hugging her hips reminded her exactly where she belonged in this moment.
As the warm milk continued to flow from the bottle, Emma felt a soft pressure building in her abdomen. Without a second thought, she let go, feeling another warm rush of liquid bloom against her skin. She leaned into the feeling, focused on the dual sensations of intake and release. It was a strange, rhythmic cycle that made her feel completely untethered from the world.
"Hungry baby," Olivia cooed. She tilted the bottle slightly higher, ensuring the flow was steady as Emma drank. The rhythmic suction of the nipple became the only sound in the room, save for the occasional crinkle of the diaper beneath the fleece blanket.
Between gulps of the warm liquid, Emma tilted her head back, studying Olivia's face. She traced the soft line of Olivia's jaw and the way her eyes crinkled with a mixture of affection and possessiveness. It was a strange juxtaposition; Olivia was younger than her, yet in this space, she felt like an ancient, steady anchor. Emma wondered where the line was drawn between a friendship and whatever this had become. They weren't just friends, that was for sure. They were something new and unnamed, a bond forged in the wreckage of Emma's old life and the curious desires Olivia hadn't known she possessed until now.
It was a small wonder Olivia had jumped in so enthusiastically. How would her ex have reacted? What would Emma have even done if Olivia pushed her away after the pacifier accident? The thoughts were fleeting, drifting like smoke before they were replaced by the heavy, warm pressure of the milk in her belly. Emma exhaled a long, shaky breath, her body sinking deeper into Olivia's lap as the bottle finally neared the bottom.
"What's going on in that noggin?" Olivia asked. She must've noticed Emma staring.
Emma didn't answer right away. She just let out a little bubble of a sigh, the sound muffled by the silicone nipple as she sucked the last few drops of warm milk from the bottle. The warmth in her stomach was making her feel drowsy, a heavy sort of peace that made her limbs feel like lead. She felt the weight of her diaper, the growing thickness of it between her legs, under her bottom. "I appreciate you," she finally said.
Olivia's expression brightened, her thumb tracing the curve of Emma's cheekbone. "I appreciate you too, Em. Even if you are a stubborn little thing." She pulled the bottle away and set it on the side table with a quiet clink. She checked her phone again. "Your mom's not due back for another hour or so, but maybe we should go up to your room, just in case."
Emma tried to sit up, but the fleece wrap was a stubborn barrier. She let out a soft, frustrated grunt, wiggling her shoulders, before Olivia giggled, unwrapping her from her cocoon. "A real-live snuggle bug!" she exclaimed.
Olivia didn't let Emma walk up the stairs on her own. Instead, she guided her by the hand, the plastic of the diaper crinkling with every cautious step. By the time they reached the sanctuary of the second floor, Emma felt a deep sense of surrender. The room felt smaller and softer than usual, the childhood posters and old books acting as a silent backdrop to her current state. As soon as the door clicked shut, Olivia turned her around, her eyes scanning the heavy, sagging padding of Emma's diaper. "Impressive. It still looks dry," she remarked, "but I know I've seen your potty face a couple times tonightâŠ"
Emma blushed, her gaze drifting toward the floor. "They're definitely different from GoodnitesâŠ"
Olivia chuckled, the sound echoing in the small bedroom. "Do you like them? I have 8 more, so I hope you do."
"At first I didn't. They're so⊠big. ButâŠ" Emma paused, feeling like she was about to admit something compromising.
Olivia smiled, just a bit, but kept silent.
"Earlier today I wet my Goodnite a couple times and it was already full⊠and I⊠really wished I was in something more absorbent." Emma whispered, the admission feeling like a heavy weight lifting from her chest.
"Oh, honey," Olivia cooed, sitting down on the bed. She reached up to Emma's diaper and slipped a finger inside. "Maybe you're just ready for pull-ups?"
Emma's breath hitched as she felt the intrusion into her diaper. She tried to maintain a shred of her dignity, but felt her cheeks burning. "How do you do that?"
"Do what?" Olivia asked, her voice dripping with an innocent curiosity that Emma knew was entirely fake.
"You make me so embarrassed, but like⊠in a way that I want to be embarrassed." The explanation wasn't coming easily. She didn't have words for these slippery feelings. "Like, I would die on the spot if it was anybody else, but because it's you, I--"
"Want to cream in your diapees?" Olivia finished the sentence.
Emma let out a small, strangled sound, half-laughing and half-gasping. She tried to pull away, but Olivia's finger was still inside of her diaper, and she held on tight. "Jesus, Liv," she finally whispered.
Olivia grinned, her eyes shimmering with a mixture of mischief and something deeper, something that felt almost like hunger. "So I'm right?"
Emma tried to look away, but Olivia's finger moved inside her diaper, brushed up against her, up and down, gently. The sensation was electric, a slow, deliberate exploration of the soft, sensitive edges of Emma's vulva, teasing the lips with a light, fluttering touch that sent a shiver straight up Emma's spine. She felt a sudden, sharp throb of desire that made her knees feel weak. It was an alien feeling, a visceral reaction that bypassed every logical thought in her head. The fact that Olivia was a woman, and not just any woman, but the friend she trusted most in the world, added a layer of complexity that made her head spin. It felt wrong, then it felt right, then it felt overwhelming.
"Liv?" she whispered.
The word was barely a sound, a breathy plea that hung in the air of the dim bedroom. Olivia didn't pull her hand away; instead, she used it to pull Emma down to the bed. There they were, laid out, forehead to forehead. Olivia was looking right into Emma's eyes, like she was trying to extract some kind of information.
"Too much?" Olivia whispered, her voice devoid of the teasing edge. "Tell me."
Emma couldn't find her voice. The air in the room felt thick, charged with a tension that made the simple act of breathing feel like a conscious effort. She shook her head 'no' with maybe too much eagerness.
Olivia smiled, a slow and knowing expression that reached her eyes. She didn't pull away. Instead, she slid her hand back down, her finger finding the edge of the leg guard. With a deliberate, slow motion, she began to play, tracing the soft skin of Emma's inner thigh and then circling back to press against the sensitive flesh. Oliviaâs touch was light, almost teasing, as she explored the boundary between the diaper's edge and Emma's skin, her finger dipping in and out of the elastic gather.
Emma felt her breath hitch. The contrast between the bulky, absorbent padding and the precise, targeted warmth of Olivia's touch was dizzying. Every slide of Olivia's finger sent a jolt of electricity through her, making her toes curl against the bedsheets. She tried to maintain her composure, but the sensation was too focused, too intimate. A soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips, the sound vibrating in the small space between them.
The sound seemed to trigger something in Olivia. Her smile widened, becoming something more predatory yet tender. Without warning, Olivia withdrew her hand for a split second, only to plunge it firmly down the front of the diaper. The sudden movement displaced the thick, sodden padding, pushing the plastic crinkling against Emma's skin as Olivia's palm made full, direct contact with her heat.
Emma gasped, her hips arching instinctively. The feeling was overwhelming, the heavy bulk of the wet diaper wrapped around her while Olivia's hand sought her out with a confident, searching pressure. There was no more teasing at the edges. Oliviaâs fingers found her, molding against the soft folds of her anatomy, the friction of the diaper's inner lining adding a strange, textured sensation to the intimacy. Emma felt a surge of raw, uncomplicated need, her adult inhibitions dissolving under the weight of the diaper and Olivia's touch.
"You're so sensitive," Olivia whispered, her voice a low hum that vibrated in Emma's chest. She didn't stop, her hand moving in a slow, rhythmic grind that matched the throb of Emma's pulse.
With a sudden, fluid movement, Olivia shifted her weight, sliding down until her face was inches from Emma's chest, capturing one of Emma's stiff nipples between her lips. Emma let out a sharp, high pitched gasp, her back arching off the mattress as she felt the wet, sliding pressure of Olivia's tongue.
The juxtaposition was dizzying. Below, the heavy, sodden weight of her diaper clung to her skin, a constant reminder of her regression, while above, Olivia was treating her body with a focused, adult intensity. It was as if Olivia were claiming both versions of her at once, the baby who needed care and the woman who craved touch. Emma's hands flew to Olivia's shoulders, her fingers digging into the fabric of her shirt as she tried to steady herself in the storm of sensation.
Oliviaâs tongue traced a slow, wet circle around the peak of Emma's breast, the wet heat of her mouth matching the state of her diaper. Emmaâs breath came in short, jagged hitches, her mind spinning in a blur of sensory overload. She felt utterly exposed, pinned naked between the soft mattress and the demanding presence of the fully-clothed woman above her. The feeling of being cared for as a baby had shifted seamlessly into a desperate need to be wanted and consumed.
Oliviaâs hand didn't waver, her fingers sliding deeper through the sodden padding to find the center of Emma's heat, every movement amplified by the heavy bulk of the diaper. Emma let out a low, guttural moan, her hips unconsciously thrusting upward, seeking more of the pressure that was driving every other thought from her mind.
The tension in Emma's body built like a coiled spring, her muscles tightening and beginning to ache as she neared the edge of a precipice. Olivia could feel the shift, the way Emma's breathing heightened and her fingers tightened in Olivia's shirt. Just as the wave of pleasure began to peak, Olivia leaned in and caught the tip of Emma's nipple between her teeth. It wasn't a hard bite, but a gentle, teasing nip, a sudden spark of sharp sensation that acted like a catalyst. The shock of the bite sent a jolt of electricity straight to Emma's core, triggering the final release.
Emma cried out, her body shuddering violently beneath Olivia. The climax crashed over her in waves, a powerful, visceral explosion that left her gasping for air and shaking with the effort of the release. As the intensity slowly ebbed, she felt the heavy, warm weight of her saturated diaper clinging to her, a physical anchor to the vulnerability of the moment. She collapsed back into the pillows, her eyes falling shut, spent. Olivia lingered for a moment, her lips brushing against Emma's skin in a series of soft, lingering kisses: forehead, cheek, neck, before she finally pulled away with a satisfied, knowing smile.
The room fell silent, save for the sound of Emma's ragged breathing and the distant, muffled noise of a car door closing in the driveway downstairs. The spell didn't break, but it shifted. Emma felt a sudden, sharp awareness of the state of her lower half. She looked up at Olivia, who was watching her with a gaze that was both protective and possessive.
"Your mommy's home," Olivia whispered with tender amusement. She reached down, the plastic of the diaper crinkling loudly under her touch as she smoothed the waistband. "Looks like I'm going home for the night."
Emma let out a small, plaintive moan. She had so many things to say, but not words with which to say them.
Olivia stood up, the bed creaking under her weight. "Remember, you keep that diaper on, okay? I'll come change you in the morning." She pulled the covers up around Emma and tucked them in with affection.
Emma barely heard her, barely registered her actions, her mind still swimming in the afterglow of the last few minutes. She felt heavy and warm, her body feeling like it had melted into the mattress. The saturated weight of the diaper was a comforting presence. She watched Olivia move toward the door, the younger woman's silhouette framed by the soft glow of the hallway light.
"Goodnight, little one," Olivia whispered, blowing a kiss toward the bed.
As the door clicked shut and the sound of the front door closing echoed from downstairs, Emma lay in the silence of her room. She could hear her mother's muffled voice from the first floor, greeting Olivia with a familiar, cheery cadence. Normally, the sound of her mother returning would trigger a reflex to pull on some clothes and pretend she had been productive, perhaps pretending to read a book or organize her dresser. Tonight, she didn't move. She just lay there, staring at the ceiling. Slowly, Emma reached down under the covers and patted the thick padding of her diaper. It was thick, swollen with her urine, and the feeling made her feel inexplicably cherished. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, the scent of baby powder, warm milk, and -- embarrassingly, good embarrassingly -- her pee, still clinging to her skin. She didn't know what tomorrow would bring, or how she would reconcile this version of herself with the world outside her bedroom door, but as she drifted toward sleep, the only thing that mattered was the memory of Olivia's touch and the heavy, warm security wrapped around her hips. That would be enough.
A quick bite after work turned into celebratory drinks, and, swept up in the chaos of it all, Emma found herself stumbling several blocks to yet another bar she'd never heard of with colleagues she barely knew. Brian and Sandeep were bragging again, something about booked revenue and "crushing it". Most of the QA team followed behind, chatting in hushed tones. Probably continuing their exhausting lunch conversation about some inane AI bullshit.
Why did she agree to this again? Wasn't her socialization over lunches in the work cafeteria enough? She could think of quite a few things she'd find so much more enjoyable at home.
Right. Jade. The new girl. Even though they didn't work closely, they met over lunch on her first day. They'd occasionally bump into each other at the coffee shop on the corner before work. Without really thinking about it, Emma had shifted her schedule a little earlier, hoping for more of those friendly morning chats over coffee. Yeah, there was no way Emma was going to skip this one and force Jade be the token woman at the work outing. Not that she didn't seem like she couldn't handle it. She always looked so effortlessly put together, soâŠ
A sigh and a sharp elbow from the right interrupted Emma's thoughts. Jade smiled, locking eyes with Emma for a moment before rolling hers. The pair looked like they couldn't possibly be attending the same function. Emma's tidy brown ponytail and adorable dress covered with a repeating bunny print made a stark contrast with Jade's asymmetrical purple side-shave and spiked leather jacket. But together they stood out, an island in a sea of corporate logo-embroidered black vests and polos.
"Fuck me, are they always like this?"
"Yeah, you, kinda get used to it. I mean, probably. I don't know, I don't go that often anymore." Shit. She sounded awkward, she knew it. Emma looked up at the taller woman, who stepped to the side as she beckoned to Emma to follow. Pausing to let the rest of the group pass, Jade rummaged through her purse, pulling out a vape and taking a long drag before offering it with a grin.
"It's sativa. Think I've had my fill of our coworkers for the night. What do you say we get out of here?"
Emma took the vape, fumbling with the button before pressing it to her lips and inhaling, desperately trying to look like she had any idea what she was doing. Betrayed by a fit of coughing, she handed it back to the girl. "Gosh, please. These things are always boring. Do you have anywhere in mind?"
"Friday night's karaoke night at Beth's"
"Beth's Pub, you mean? Isn't that aâŠ"
"Yeah, the dyke bar on Seventh. Well, more of a queer bar these days, but⊠" Jade trailed off. "Sorry, is that a problem? I didn't mean to assume anything."
Emma glanced at the collection of rings on Jade's immaculately manicured fingers, noting the shorter nails on her first two, then down at the trans and lesbian pride flag pins on the strap of her bag. "Takes one to know one, huh?"
"I knew I liked you." Jade beamed. "So, why haven't I seen you there before?"
"Well, I'm kind of a homebody" Emma laughed sheepishly. "Always meant to, but never got around to it. But karaoke tonight sounds fun." She clutched her tote, hoping that its contents wouldn't be too obvious as the pair turned and walked off towards their new destination. Well, it wasn't exactly tote. It was more of an oversized plush capybara with a built-in pocket and a shoulder strap.
God, she was approaching her 30s and this was the closest thing she had to a purse? How did anyone manage to take her seriously at work. Why was Jade even giving her the time of day? How had nobody noticed the way herâŠ
The same sharp elbow interrupted her thoughts again, accompanied by a giggle. "We're here!" Jade held the door for her, ushering her in from the brisk autumn air.
Emma looked in awe at the bustling scene in front of her. A leather-clad butch belted out a passable rendition of a Bruce Springsteen song on the stage in the back corner as the crowd looked on. Booths along the far wall were filled with groups of friends, plus a few folks she thought she recognized from that in-person trans group she talked herself into attending once.
"C'mon, Emma, couple seats opened up at the bar! Gotta jump on it." Jade grabbed her by the arm, tugging her over to a pair of newly vacant barstools. Sitting down, she patted the stool next to her and reached for the plush capybara bag that was barely clinging to Emma's shoulder, hanging it from the hook under the bar before the girl could even protest.
"Wait a second, my bag, you didn't see myâŠ" Emma cut herself off, hoping the bar lighting would hide the deep blush in her cheeks. "Sorry, I just want to keep track of her⊠it. You know?"
"I'm so sorry hun, your bag was slipping down your shoulder, and I just wanted to make sure she didn't fall on the floor." Jade patted the girl's shoulder reassuringly. "Love your capybara friend, by the way. What's her name?"
"Sophia." Emma whispered, closing her eyes as she paused. "I know it's probably weird, but I like cute stuff, and she⊠I feel better having her around, you know?"
"Sophia the capybara!" Jade proclaimed, her face lighting up. "I love it! She's almost as adorable as you are. And hey, don't ever let anyone give you a hard time about what you like."
Pretending not to notice Emma's shy smile, Jade turned to catch the bartender's attention. "Hey Ann, how's your night going? I'll have the usual, and she'll have the frozen strawberry margarita."
The bartender shot a glance across the bar at Emma, who nodded eagerly to confirm the order. "That sounds really yummy, actually. I mean, it sounds good."
"Do I need to see some ID?" Ann chuckled, turning away to prepare the drinks without waiting for a response.
Two rounds of strawberry margaritas and gin & tonics and several unfortunate karaoke renditions of Chappell Roan later, the two were still glued to their seats, lost in conversation. "Your favorite show? Hmm, let me guess, it's gotta be Bluey, right?" Jade teased, playfully grabbing Emma's shoulder. "I mean, look at you. You practically radiate Bingo Heeler energy."
Emma looked down at her dress and her adorable capybara purse hanging underneath the bar, downing the last sip of her strawberry margarita. "Okay, you got me there! But⊠hey wait a second, you cheated! You remembered my t-shirt from last week, didn't you?"
"So what if I did? What are you going to do about it?" Jade grinned mischievously, meeting her gaze expectantly and lingering for just a moment. With a sad sigh, she continued. "Y'know, it's one of my favorites too, actually. I might not seem like the type, but I've seen every episode. I used to babysit a little girl who was almost as into it as you are."
"Used to? What happened there? Got out of babysitting, started your new job in corporate finance?" Emma asked, raising a curious eyebrow.
"Not quite. She's the one who got the new job, actually. Last year. Moved to Portland with one of her partners. Didn't even mention it until the truck was packed."
"Wait, she⊠Oh. Oh no. I'm so sorry, Jade. You didn't deserve that."
Jade abruptly got up from her seat, gently resting a hand on Emma's shoulder. "Thank you, hun. It hurt, but it was probably for the best. Sorry for bringing it up on an otherwise lovely evening." She let out a weary sigh and finished her drink, placing the empty glass back on its coaster. "Hey, looks like we both finished this round. What do you say, hit the bathroom, maybe grab one more before last call?"
"Oh, um, I don't⊠I don't need to go that bad." Emma stuttered, her eyes doing their best to drill a hole into the floor as she shifted in her seat nervously. "But⊠go ahead, I can keep an eye on your bag. And then one more drink sounds really nice."
Jade hesitated for a second, raising an eyebrow as she looked Emma up and down. She smirked slightly, then smiled, squeezing her shoulder and sauntering off to the bathroom. "Okay, babygirl, if you say so! Back in a few."
Emma swung her feet nervously as she waited perched on her barstool. Did Jade mean anything by that? And was that a smirk? Did Jade see inside her bag? Could she have noticed anything through her black leggings? She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and relaxed. Probably nothing. Probably justâŠ
Fuck.
She was leaking. Badly. As the telltale wet spots began to form on her leggings and the wetness started to spread to her dress, her eyes welled up. Here she was, hanging out with this gorgeous woman, and she had to go and ruin it by doing something stupid like forgetting to change before leaving work. She jumped up, grabbing a few napkins from the bar to try and wipe down her seat. Maybe she could pay the tab and sneak out before Jade got back. Maybe she couldâŠ
"Emma? Everything ok?" Jade placed a hand on the distraught girl's shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze as she assessed the situation. "Sweetie, what happened, did you leak?"
Emma just nodded, looking up at Jade before looking back down at her feet. So stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Just pathetic. Why did she have to go and ruin an evening byâŠ
"Sophia's holding onto some extras, right?" Jade asked as she pressed the plush capybara bag into the girl's arms. "I couldn't help but notice earlier. Why don't you hold onto her and we can get you to the bathroom to get cleaned up?"
Jade wrapped an arm around Emma's shoulders, guiding her towards the bathroom as she gently rubbed her back. Most of the other patrons they passed seemed oblivious to Emma's little mishap. The few that looked away from the stage smirked knowingly, under the impression that the pair were heading to the bathroom together for very different reasons.
Jade held the door to the single bathroom open, standing in front of the doorway as she guided Emma in. "Do you want privacy, sweetie, or do you want a hand? I promise it's nothing I haven't seen before."
"Help, please. If it's ok." Emma whimpered, waving Jade in, watching as she locked the door behind them. "How⊠how long have you known?"
Jade took the capybara bag from Emma. "May I?" she asked, waiting for the girl to nod before she started going through it, pulling out wipes, powder, and a fresh diaper and laying them down on the bathroom counter. "Known you were a little? I mean, just look at you, sweetie. I think it's pretty obvious, don't you? As for the diapers, well, I caught a peek of the BunnyHopps in your bag when we sat down at dinner."
Emma sniffled and wiped her eyes, her face cycling through every imaginable shade of red and pink as Jade gently helped her out of her shoes and damp leggings, her thoroughly soaked pink diaper hanging between her legs, showing the magnitude of her earlier accident.
"I'm so sorry for ruining the night, Jade. You⊠you must think I'm such a loser." Emma sniffled, barely holding back tears as the woman gently stroked her back. "We were having so much fun, you look so pretty, I was even thinking of maybe asking you ifâŠ" She cut herself off, grabbing her bag and holding it tightly before continuing. "I've never smoked weed before, I'm the only lesbian in town who's never been to Beth's, and I couldn't even manage to keep my pants dry for the night. I wore a diaper to work for fun, and I didn't even wear a plain diaper, oh no, I just had to go and wear my cutest, most babyishâŠ"
Jade wrapped her up in a tight hug, pulling her in close. "Oh sweetie, it's okay. It's okay. Accidents happen. Besides, I think the cute diapers suit you. Look at how they match your bunny dress!" Jade smiled, pulling out a few wipes from the pack on the counter. "Still want me to help, Emma? I'd love to change your diaper, but I want to make sure that's what you want."
Emma nodded. "Yes, please."
"Good girl!" Jade grinned, guiding Emma to lean back against the wall before starting to undo the tapes on her diaper. "Now, what was it you were going to ask me?"
"Um, well⊠I was going to ask if you wanted to go out sometime. Like, on a date I mean, not just after work." Emma gasped, momentarily losing steam as Jade cleaned her up with the cold baby wipe. "But how could you possibly want to go out on a date with me?"
Jade slipped the diaper out from behind Emma, folding the wipe into the soggy disposable and taping it up before tossing it into the trash. She smiled to herself as she unfolded the fresh diaper. "Lift your back up for me. That's it. Good girl." Jade guided the diaper into place behind Emma, adjusting it, checking the fit and alignment.
"Call it a second date, then?" Jade asked, punctuating her words with a few sprinkles of baby powder before guiding the front of the diaper up between Emma's legs and fastening the four tapes. "I'd have to say yes. I mean, if you still wanted to." Jade smiled, reaching down to adjust the leak guards between Emma's legs. "Because this has been such a memorable first date."
Emma took a step away from the wall, looking down and admiring Jade's handiwork, smoothing out her dress to see just how much it would cover her diaper without her ruined leggings. "You mean, you would⊠even with a girl as pathetic as I am?"
"Sweetie, you say that like it's a bad thing." Jade packed up the changing supplies into Emma's bag. "I don't want a girl who's going to to pretend to be someone she's not just to try and impress me."
"I want a girl like you. Adorable, sweet, unafraid to be herself." Jade kissed Emma's forehead, pressing the plush capybara into her arms. "And, yes. Pathetic."
Hereâs the long-awaited chapter sixteen of the ongoing, collaborative story written by my friend, BoysRBabies, and me. Read Chapter 15 here.
All characters depicted in this work of fiction are 18 years of age or older. Readers should also be 18+ only!Â
Miss Rosie had missed a spot when sheâd wiped the pee dribbles off his legs earlier. A couple of yellow droplets clung to his hairless inner thigh. He thought about wiping them off, but then it would be on his hand.Â
As if that mattered.Â
Heâd spent half of yesterday sitting in a loaded diaper: the heat; the weight; the stink that made him gag just to think about. A little pee on his legs and hands was nothing in comparison. That thought wasnât a comfort, though. Quite the opposite. Theyâd warped him, already. Moved his goal posts for what was tolerable.
âCome on, Ty-Ty,â Miss Rosie said. She escorted him, Kevie, and Benji out of the room where theyâd put him in this stupid cage.Â
âNot a cage,â sheâd corrected him earlier. âYour PeePee Pal.âÂ
His stomach had turned at the way sheâd said it, like it was a favor. A blessing theyâd bestowed on him. Sheâd gone on more about ânaughty thoughtsâ and âsticky diapersâ and claimed, again, that he and his PeePal would become best friendsâeven closer friends than the thick, puffy monsters they taped around his hips. When heâd asked how long, she said forever, as if it were as obvious as his bare ass hanging out in front of them. Then sheâd told him he didnât need to cry (he wasnât), and that heâd have classes to help him adjust soon.
He couldnât stop thinking about it as he followed her down the hallway. The Pal was impossibly tight, making him constantly aware of its rigidity, and he was totally limp and soft. What would it be like when he got hard?Â
Kevie and Benji looked nearly as shellshocked as he felt. Blank stares. Twitchy hands. Kevie kept moving his lips, but no words came out. They walked along behind Miss Rosie. Benjiâs pink pig poked out between his legs, somehow both silly and obscene. Kevie kept covering his bunny rabbit with his hand, then dropping it away when he realized what he was doing. Or when he realized Miss Rosie might turn around and scold him for hiding âwho he was.â
They passed a group of women in the hallway, and he felt suddenly conscious of their eyes on his bare butt. On his locked bits. Bizarrely, he felt almost more babyish without the thick padding between his legs. It was as if he were a silly little toddler running around in his birthday suit, and nobody minded him because of course, it wasnât offensive for a baby to be naked, and it certainly wasnât sexy. It was merely cute. Harmless. Something for the women to chuckle about.Â
Heâd asked to be put in a diaper. Heâd actually asked. And yet now, for the first time, they hadnât put one on him. âSoon,â Miss Rosie had said. âYou only just made a tinkle, so I donât think we need to worry about you making another puddle on the floor. And if you do, itâs no big deal.â Sheâd shrugged and smiled indulgently. âBabies do that sometimes.â
Miss Rosie paused outside a door. âI have something very special for you boys, now. We had it scheduled for today anyway, but this is perfect timing. We like your little troublemakers to be all settled in their new homes before this next lesson. Helps keep any naughty thoughts contained.âÂ
âWha, what is it?â Kevie asked.Â
âWell, if you go on in, Iâll tell you, sillybuns,â Miss Rosie said.
Kevie stepped inside. Benji followed a moment later.
âI canât go in there without clothes on,â Tyler said.Â
âSilly boy. Youâre wearing a shirt. And your PeePee Pal. Besides, modesty is for ladies.â
âThatâs. IâŠâ
âIn you go, Ty-Ty,â Miss Rosie chirped, giving his backside a firm pat. âJoin your little friends. Weâve got another extra-special lesson for you this evening.â
Tyler sighed and stepped into the room, tugging his baby blue shirt as low as it would go, which wasnât nearly low enough. The stupid thing barely covered his belly button to begin with.
Once again, the brightly-coloured kindergarten furniture had been pushed against the walls. But this time, a number of rocking chairs had been set up in their place, evenly spaced around the room. Miss Nora, the same woman whoâd overseen the awful âpublic pants poopingâ lesson the day before, was here again, clapping her hands for silence.
âOkay, boys, itâs time for another practical lesson! Some lovely ladies from the local community have volunteered to come in to help you, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviour. Todayâs subject is breastfeeding!â
Tyler felt a cold, dropping sensation in his stomach, like icewater sluicing into his gut. A door opened, and a group of women was escorted inside. They were older than the college students had been, looking as though they ranged in age from their late twenties to their early fifties. They strained against their blouses, cleavage instantly drawing the gaze of nearly every boy in the room.
The ABC staff divided them up, one for each diaperboy, and Tyler soon found himself face to face with a raven-haired, heavily tanned woman of around forty. She had big hoop earrings, a wide smile, and an extremely generous bust.
âAwww, wook at his widdle bum-bum!âÂ
Before Tyler could so much as move a muscle, the woman had reached behind him and pinched his ass. âWhat a cutie-patootie! How come you donât got a diapie on, mister? Is it âcause youâre a big boy? Somehow, I doubt that.â She bellowed a throaty laugh that made her earrings sway.
Tyler tried to protect his backside from the womanâs roaming hands, her nails grazing his skin. He twisted aside.
She went for his junk next. She jiggled the orange tiger cage that imprisoned his manhood with the tip of one long, red fingernail. âDefinitely not a big boy. No more stiffie-wiffies for you, hmm? Poor baby! Iâd have guessed a handsome boy like you would have a big wee-wee, but it must be pretty itty-bitty if itâs able to squeeze in there.â
Tylerâs face burned. He gave her a slow up-and-down glare meant to cut her down. âOr maybe you just donât do anything to excite me.âÂ
The woman raised an eyebrow. She looked more amused than annoyed.
He squeezed his fists, digging his nails into his palms.
Miss Rosie put her hand on his shoulder. âTyger here has some outdated, selfish views about women. Like weâre all just props for his conquests. But weâre doing our best to get him on a better track, arenât we, Ty-Ty?âÂ
âMy ideas are outdated?â Tyler said. âYou put me in a medieval chastity cage like Iâm some princess locked in a castle.âÂ
Miss Rosie sighed. âSee what I mean? He just canât see the difference between a powerful princess being robbed of her agency and a silly diaperboyâa diaperboy who has already caused so much hurt with that silly little thingy between his thighsâbeing put in his proper place.âÂ
The woman shrugged. âHappy I can do my part. Should I be worried about him spraying my blouse?â She waved her hand at Tylerâs parts.
âWell, he is a bit of a dribbler,â Miss Rosie said. âAnd Iâm sure a tum-tum full of milkies will only turn up the faucet.âÂ
âThatâs ridiculous,â Tyler said with as much gusto as he could muster with pee droplets drying on his skin.Â
Miss Rosie continued, ignoring him. âHe just piddled all over his legs. Shouldâve seen it. Reminded me of a clumsy lil pup lifting its leg on the carpet. So I suppose itâs appropriate weâll get you a puppy pad to protect your lap.âÂ
She chuckled, and the woman chuckled along with her.Â
Miss Rosie gestured at one of the aides, who walked over with a blue and white puppy pad.
âMy nameâs Evelyn, honey,â the seated woman said. âIâm your wetnurse, if you havenât figured that out already.â She paused. âBut Iâd prefer not getting wet, if you know what I mean.âÂ
âSeriously?â Tyler asked. âMonica is gonna have a shiâsheâs not going to like this. Me playing with another chickâs tits? Even one whoâs more on the cougar end of things.âÂ
Both women burst out laughing.Â
The laugh cut sharper than any scolding, leaving his words dangling. Pathetic.
âSweetie, Iâm not sure anyone will see a locked-up diaperboy with piddle spots on his legs and anxious wittle goosebumps on his arms as much of a sexual threat. Besides, your mommy signed off on this. She wants you to be ready for her. Youâll have a lot of breastfeeding in your future.âÂ
âNo frickinâ way,â he said. âUnh-uh.â
Miss Rosie put her hand on his back and gently pushed him closer. âThis will help you build a new kind of intimacy with your mommy. Warm and cuddly and oh-so-special.âÂ
âIâm not doing it.â
Miss Rosie. âReally? Such a big, strong man who loves talking about all his grown-up conquests is scared of a ladyâs breasts? Iâm surprised.âÂ
âItâs just stupid,â he said.Â
All around the room, shirts were being pulled up. Bras unclasped. Diaperboys were crawling onto laps and settling into place as well as they could.Â
âTy-Ty likes doing things with a red bottom,â Miss Rosie said to Evelyn. âI think it must be his favorite color.âÂ
âFine,â Tyler seethed.Â
You wanna play this game? Iâll have this woman moaning my name in ten minutes. They can put that in the report to Monica.Â
âThatâs a good boy,â Miss Rosie said. âNow be gentle. If heâs rough, Evelyn, let me know and Iâll handle it.âÂ
Miss Evelyn put a hand on his back and drew him closer. He settled awkwardly onto the puppy pad on her thighs, his legs draped over the large rocking chairâs arm. He felt so exposed with his bare butt hanging out in the breeze, cool air from the AC needling his crack.Â
Evelyn drew up her blouse and unclasped her bra, exposing a heavy, pendulous breast that jiggled as it came free. Her nipple, pink and full, had a drop of milk perched on its tip. She cupped the back of his head and in her hand and drew him closer. âHeeerre we goooo.âÂ
Heâd had plenty of breasts in his mouth. Squeezed and sucked and played with them. Watched the women moan and writhe and beg for more. Beg for his cock in them. This was different. No heat of conquest. No control. Just being guided, helpless. She was in control here, and his cock was out of the picture. Locked, limp, and totally useless.
Well, maybe not totally limp.Â
The tight fit had grown a bit tighter still, the ring pulling at his full balls.Â
âYouâll have to open wider than that, sweetie,â Evelyn said, chuckling.Â
Tyler opened his mouth, and she guided her nipple between his lips. Her skin soft and gently pebbled against his lips and on his tongue. The smell of her body, of vanilla lotion, filled him.Â
âMmmmm, such a good boy,â she sighed.Â
He felt her words as much as he heard them, along with the gentle rush of her heart and rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing.Â
âNow go ahead,â she said gently. âJust like you do with your ba-ba.â
 He started to suck. Warm, sweet milk immediately filled his mouth.
âMmmmm, there you go.â She gently rubbed his cheek with her thumb. âSuch a sweet boy.âÂ
He drifted into a pleasant haze. His eyelids heavy. His limbs slack. The world warm. Comfy. Soft. Sweet milk filled his mouth and ran down his throat. There was something heâd meant to do, wasnât there? Heâd wanted toâŠhe couldnât think of it. Had they drugged him again? With her milk? That didnât make sense. And it didnât matter.Â
He floated.
âTy-Ty,â Miss Rosie was whispering in his ear.
He opened his eyes to see her standing over him, rubbing his back. He was still on Evelynâs lap, her nipple resting on his lips. She smiled down at him.Â
âTime to get up,â Miss Rosie said.
âYou did wonderful, sweetie,â Evelyn said. âYour mommy is going to be so proud of her special little man.âÂ
âDid heâŠ?â Miss Rosie asked.Â
Evelyn shook her head. âPerfect little gentleman. Though I think this puppy pad took about all it could handle. Heâs quite the little firehose.âÂ
Tyler jerked upright and nearly toppled off her lap. The puppy pad he sat on was swollen, damp, and yellow. âI didnât do that,â he said reflexively.Â
Miss Rosie giggled. âNo? It must have been the tinkle fairy then, hmm? Come on, now. Say buh-bye to Miss Evelyn.â She took his hand and helped him off her lap.Â
He swayed on his feet, trying to make sense of what had happened. How long had he been there? His thoughts felt fuzzy, and there was a gentle ringing in his ears. Milk still coated his tongue and lips.
One of the aides led another diaperboy over. He stood there, off to the side, waiting. Miss Evelyn slid her bra down into place, giving him one last look at her breast before it was hidden. Then she raised her shirt on the other side and unclasped her bra.Â
The other diaperboy walked over, hands clasped behind his back, his greedy eyes locked on her chest.Â
Tyler felt a stab of jealousy. Of hurt. And then just as rapidly, of foolishness.Â
What the hell is wrong with you? You have no connection to this woman. Sheâs just another tool in this system of control and humiliation.Â
Then Miss Rosie was ushering him out the door and into the hallway. âTime to get you in a diaper, Ty-Ty. All safe and secure again.âÂ
Want to read the entire The Regression Center series so far in one convenient location? Check out my Ream.
In addition to The Regression Center, you'll find dozens of other stories, like The Good News, which is at 56 chapters and going strong. Here's the description:
Hailey volunteers for SHINE, a college organization that believes all males belong in diapers.
While spreading the good word door-to-door, she meets Martin. He's rude, surly, and smells like he hasn't showered in days. She knows he belongs in diapers, but there's no way he will agree willingly. So she enlists some help - and goes to increasingly extreme measures - to put Martin in his place and ensure he will never get out of diapers again.
Hi I'm new here đ I love being little and writing stories about it đŒđ„° Here's my very first!
"Princess, are you ready to go?" he shouted down the hall towards her.
"Daddy, help! Heeeelllp!" she yelled back.
He couldn't help but laugh when he turned the corner to see his baby girl sitting on the floor with her shirt on backwards and shoes on the wrong feet. He could see her diaper peeking out from under the colorful rainbow skirt he asked her to put on, and that she somehow managed to.
"Oh no baby I thought you said you were a big girl and could dress yourself today?"
"I am a big girl!" she protested and started taking the backwards shirt off over her head. She squirmed as it stopped right over her face, her arms now stuck over her head. He smiled at her futile effort to be big.
"Are you now?" He chuckled and walked over to help her, "I think you're much too little to dress yourself, princess." He got down on his knee in front of her and pulled the shirt off the rest of the way, turned it around and swiftly slid it back over her head. He switched her shoes around and lifted her up to her feet. He grabbed her waist and spun her around. He could already see her puffy diaper peeking from under her skirt. Lifting it up, he patted her padded bum.
"Looks like this big girl needs a diaper change too!" he teased, and she buried her face in her hands. He picked his baby girl up under her arms and carried her to the bed. "So do you think you need to let daddy dress you from now on, princess?" he asked, patting her full diaper one more time before laying her down on her back.
"Yes, daddy," she mumbled, blushing. She reached for her monkey stuffie next to her and half buried her face in his. She peeked at daddy.
"Awh that's my good girl," he said as he lightly grabbed her chin and slid her paci into her mouth. She stared up at him while he flipped up her skirt and ripped the tapes from the baby pink diaper that hugged her waist.
He was waddling upstairs to his bedroom, making that pouty face... looking so cute in his Pampers... âșïž
Next morning he was up early, thinking about what to do, cause he still didn't want to go #2 in his diaper while at his moms house...
He sneaked to the bathroom, to check whether he could relieve himself quickly without anyone noticing...
"F***, the door was locked, mom was serious!"
...suddenly his mom came around the corner...
"Good morning sweetie...do you search for something?
Didn't i say i'll make sure you'll not have to worry about potty breaks anymore?! Guess i did..." đ
"Moooom, please let me go to the bathroom, please! Why do you do that to me???"
"Didn't you say, you'd like to experience the life of a toddler in diapers? Now you've got the chance! Your bathroom is around your waist, just let it happen!"
He ran, or should i say waddled, back to his room.... His diaper was so wet already...I left him alone, so he can go boomies in private. Toddlers don't want to be disturbed, when making pushies in their Pampers....đ
I got back to the kitchen and began to prep our breakfast, after a while i heard him trying to quietly open the bathroom door again. No chance, it still is locked... What did he think? That it magically unlocked itself?! đ€
His bum bulged, the front of his diaper got thicker too...
After a while he decided to grab his jeans, put it on and went downstairs...
"Ahh there you are, i made breakfast for us hun, are you hungry?"
I could tell mom was trying to sneak a look at my bum. I made it hard for her to see... But then she suddenly came over and begun to just check my diaper... đ
"Uh did baby go pottys already? Uh, you're stinky! Do we need to get your bum changed?" đ
"Maybe" he said defiantly and took a seat at the table. His poop squished everywhere in his diaper, up his butt and the front too... That's quite the most babyish and humiliating feeling, he ever has experienced... Sitting in his poopy Pampers at the breakfast-table with his mom... Embaressing but somehow beautiful too...
"We'll need to buy some supplies for you today, hun... You'll need wipes and barrier cream at least...Guess you'll have to stay in your nighttime Pamper, till we got some wipes and changing supplies for you." I said teasing him đ
"What??? No mom, you can't do that to me!!! Isn't a mom supposed to take care of their kids diaper?!"
"Yes of course. But since when does the kid decide, when it is time for a change? Never heard of that...
And still, we got no wipes or anything. How am i supposed to change your stinky diaper?"
"Mooom, nooo i can take a shower..."
"You could. Let's see. However, you won't go out without a diaper around your waist. That's for sure." đ€«
After we had breakfast, he stood up, his legs wide apart.
I had to giggle and said: "Better get used to it, will not be the last time, you'll have to sit in your poopy Pampers..."đ€
He was looking angry at me...
"Can i take a shower mom, please!"
"You can, here's the key. But don't you dare going on the big boys potty! No Potty! When you're done taking a shower, lock the door again, come downstairs and bring the key, your binky and a fresh diaper!"
He waddled upstairs to take a shower...
After a while, I could hear the toilet flushing... Well then, seems like somebody didn't obey mommy... I will not address it now, but he'll regret that soon...
After a while he came downstairs in his boxers, brought everything i requested.
"Bathroom door is locked again? I will double check!"
"Ya mom, it is..." he said annoyed
"Good boy! Take your binkie and lay down on the couch, so mommy can put you in your Pamper..."
He layed down, got his boxers taken off by his mom.
"Uh, somebody's got a little rash, don't you?! It's about time to get you some desitin"
He was laying there in front of me, all nakey with only his binky in his mouth...cute đ
"Bum up" i said
I made sure his diaper wont leak, checked the tabs and cuffs.
"Done, all fresh and clean baby! You can go pick your clothes!"
I'm starting to get used to the sight of him in his baby pants...I don't know why, but I kinda loved to see him like this... So cute, almost like back then... Gives me huge mommy vibes! đ„°
As we sat in the car, he asked what we're about to buy, and where?
"Don't worry hun, your Pampers are barely visible through your pants. At least when thy are dry...
We won't go to the Walmart in our city, where everybody knows you. We'll be driving to a store that's approx. 40min from here. I'll make sure you're good, hun"
"Thanks mom..."he said relieved
"You're welcome, sweetie"
We got to our destination after roundabout 35min. I chose a mall, that has all the supplies for him...even a store that has his big Pampers.đ
First we got to a drugstore... I picked a cart, took him by the hand and went straight to the baby department...
I checked all the baby diapers, cause he will need a thicker padding, when i am not at home and for the nights of course.
Better safe then sorry...
"These are baby diapers mom, i won't fit any of those" he laughed at me.
While i put two packs of "Pampers Baby Dry Size 8" in our cart, i said:
"I know hun, i know..."
He looked at me in disbelief... đ
I went straight to the wipes, took a 4x economy pack, some Babypowder and 2 desitin diaperrash cremes.
I went on to the bottles and paci section, cause i wanted him to pick out a binky & baba himself.
Well lets say, he wasn't as excited as me...
"What? No mom! I don't need a bottle"
"Ok, then mommy will choose a baba for you"
"Mooom, please, i really don't want a bottle! I mean for real, i can drink from a glass, i really don't need it!"
I heared enough of his moaning, so I decided to check his diaper right where we're at, so he remembers, who's in charge again!
"Little squishy down there, huh?" I said not too quiet... đ€
Worked out, he went silent after that.
"Ok, what else? Binky, baba, pampers, wipes... ah, there's one more thing!"
"There we go. Justin, this is just in case you choose to disobey mommy!"
I held up a pack of "MiraLAX"
You should have seen his face... đ
"Come on mom, no need for that..."
"We'll see. Better to have than to need" i said
We went on to the medical store, where they sell his Pampers.
As we got in the store, a pretty girl, maybe in her late 20's, welcomed us.
"Hello, how may i help you?"
"Hello, I read online, that you offer diapers from ABU â the ones that look like the old Pampers from the '90s, SDK in size M."
Justin blushed as the cute girl from the counter was looking at him and examined his slightly poofy crotch...
From that moment on she knew, the diapers were for him...soooo embarrassing, he wanted to sink into the ground immedietly...
"Oh ya, we offer those. Let me look it up, ummm... they're 34,99$ a pack with 10 diapers. We offer packets with 10 different diapers to test too. Same price. Might be a good option to find the right diaper, if you are not sure yet.
I was looking at Justin, counting the approximate number of diapers, he'll need. 3 weeks, he has 16 diapers left at home... 21 days, approximatly 3 diapers per day...
"Guess that's a good idea, we'll take two of the mixed test packs and three of the SDK's. Still pretty expensive to have a kid in diapers, i must admit..."
"Well ya, it is...At some point they all grew out of their diapers. Ahm...well at least most of em" she smiled at Justin đ€
"Will be right back" she said
While she collected the diaperpacks, Justin was looking at me still blushing with angry eyes...
"Mooom, why do you do that? Now she knows for sure they're for me! Thats so embaressing!!!"
"Why do i do what? Of course they are. You'll be in diapers for quite a while now, so i'll make sure we don't run out of Pampers! Didn't you say your diapers are my responsibility? I think so, let mommy handle that!"
The girl overheard our conversation and came back smiling with the diaper packages.
"Anything else, m'am?
"Um... Yeah, um... i saw you offer lockable rubber pants in your onlinestore, do you have those in stock here?"
"Oh yea, let me look it up...We have em in stock in blue and transparent right now."
I looked at him questioningly.
He was so embarrassed and looked away, as if those weren't for him...
"Hm, guess transparent is the best choice, with the blue one i can not see, when it's time for a change. We'll take one in transparent, please. Um, they're one size, aren't they?'
"Yes m'am, one fits all" she winked at him...đ
She went back to the storage unit, to pick it up.
"There you go, something else, m'am?"
"Thx, um... oh i almost forgot - do you have something like these locking mittens? Let me show you" I pulled my phone out to show her.
Justin looked at me anxiously and angrily, when a loud but sensitive "mooom" escaped him đ€
Meanwhile the girl was checking her computer: "Oh yeah, we do. Um, wait, let me show you what we've got" she said
"So we've got two models of mittens, one with padding and lockable and the other ones are standart, without a locking option."
Justin was so embaressed, he walked away from the counter a little and pretended to look at the things on the shelf to avoid being humiliated even further.
"Ok great" i looked at Justin
"...guess we'll need the locking option, so i'll go with those. Ah, one more thing, i saw you have those cute, oversized binky's for "adults". Do you have those in stock here?"
She looked it up and said: " Yes, we do. Those are pretty cute, don't you think?!" she giggled
"Yea, just like back in the day..." the girls laughed
Justin could hear our conversations clearly, while he stood in front of the shelves. I looked at him, immediately realizing that he went pee-pees in his Pamper. I know that wide-legged stance... đ
"I called him: Come on Justin, help me carry your Pampers to the car!"
"M'am, you can pick a shopping cart over there" the girl said
"Oh ya, thats better, thanks hun!"
"You're welcome, have fun" she winked at us... đ€
Diapers Are You: Truth, Acceptance, and Becoming Whole
You have always known. The quiet tug in your chest when you saw them. The pulse of longing that never faded. The way your mind wrapped around the thought of them even when you tried to let it go. You may have told yourself it was a habit, a fantasy, a quirk of your desires. But it has always been more than that. It has been truth.
Diapers are not something you chose. They are something that has always been part of you. Maybe you hid from it. Maybe you tried to push it away, stuffing it into the corners of your life where no one would see. Maybe you spent years wondering if you could live without them, if you should live without them. But the answer was always waiting in the silence.
There is a reason you feel at home when you wear them. A reason you crave their presence, their thickness, their softness, their security. A reason the thought of being without them stirs something uneasy inside you. Because diapers are not just something you put on. They are something you are.
And yet, for so long, you may have resisted. You may have believed the worldâs voice over your own. You may have thought that denying this truth would make it disappear. But truth does not vanish. It lingers. It waits. It returns in dreams, in quiet moments, in the way your body aches for what it has always known. The only question is whether you will accept it.
Acceptance is not about giving in. It is about becoming whole. It is about recognizing that you were never broken, never wrong, never something to be fixed. The world taught you to doubt yourself, to second-guess your desires, to believe that something so deep and undeniable must be unnatural. But the world was wrong. There is nothing more natural than aligning with who you truly are.
Diapers are not just an object. They are identity. They shape the way you move, the way you think, the way you feel safe and seen. They are the rhythm of your body, the embrace of comfort and surrender, the language of something deeper than words.
Because diapers are not separate from you. They are you.
So stop resisting. Stop second-guessing. Stop thinking of this as something outside yourself, something you allow or deny. Take hold of what you have always known. Let it settle into your bones. Let it become as natural as breath, as certain as gravity, as undeniable as your own reflection.
You are not indulging. You are not escaping. You are becoming. And you have always been.
âAlright, little ones, settle down! Itâs Harry Potter time. I see a few new faces, so my name is Kendra for those who donât know. I started Littleâs Corner two years ago after I became my sweet Hannahâs Caregiver. It was so hard to find social activities for her, so I figured, why not start my own?â
Hannah squealed excitedly at the mention of her name. âKendwa is my cawgiwer,â she lisps to Sammy.
Sammy nods her head. âI heard.â
âYouâll have to forgive her,â Jane adds, âShe loves the attention, donât you, Hannah?â
âHey, do not!â Hannah squeals.
âHannah, remember we use our inside voices in Littleâs Corner!â Kendra chides.
âSowwy,â Hannah pouts.
âNow, where did we leave off last time?â Kendra asks the group.
A cacophony of shouting erupts from the Littles.
âHogwarts!â
âTrain!â
Kendra smiled as the Littlesâ shouting died down. âHmmm, I heard some things about Hogwarts and trains.â
âHarry just arrived at Hogwarts, Miss Kendra,â Jane said confidently.
âGood job, Jane! Last we left, Harry was about to get on the tiny boats carrying them to Hogwarts!â
Sammy looked around at the other Littles waiting in blissful anticipation for Harry Potterânot a care in the world. None of them seemed even remotely embarrassed to be here. They simply enjoyed themselves.
For a split second, Sammy wondered if they had it right. Maybe giving in and embracing her new life would be better. Wouldnât it be easier not to worry about Stanford, studying, and proving sheâs not some helpless Little?
âNo!â Sammy told herself, âIâm not like them! Iâll never be a mindless Little, content to toddle around in a poopy diaper. Never.â
Still, the thought shook Sammy to her core. What if all these Littles were like her? Did they also try to fight to retain their independence? Would that mean she is doomed to the same fate?
Sammy struggled to maintain her composure. She didnât want to think about that. Not here, not now. Fortunately, Kendra had started the next chapter of Harry Potter. Andâto Sammyâs surpriseâit was surprisingly entertaining.
Fortunately for Sammy, Harry Potter had always been her favorite book series. After a long day of studying and equations, nothing beats escaping into a world of magic and adventure. She had read them so often that her books were practically falling apart.
Sammy let herself escape once again into Harry Potter. It was comfortable, like a warm blanket and cup of hot cocoa on a cold winter day.
She was so immersed in the story that she barely noticed the commotion brewing around herâor the rapidly worsening smell.
âHannah,â Jane said, âDid you go poopoo? Someone stinks!â
Sammy snapped back into reality when Hannah fell onto her lap, screaming. âNo! Didnât! No poopoo!â
Kendra stopped reading and focused on Hannah, who was fighting Janeâs attempts to check Hannahâs diaper.
âJane, honey,â Kendra said kindly, âI appreciate you trying to help, but next time, maybe ask a Caregiver for help.â
Jane let go of the squirming Hannah. âYes, Miss Kendra. Iâm sorryâŠâ
âNo need to apologize, dear. You just wanted to help!â Kendra said as she picked Hannah up from Sammyâs lap.
âI think she made a stinky, Miss Kendra!â Jane said.
âDid not!â Hannah yelled again.
Kendra pulled back Hannahâs diaper, ignoring the struggling Littleâs attempts to squirm free, âWhew, youâre right, Jane!â
Jane smiled proudly.
âSorry for Hannah jumping on you, little one,â Kendra said to Sammy, âHannah here will do anything and everything to hide her messy diapers. Can you apologize to her, Hannah?â
âNo! I didnât poopoo! Did not! Did not!â Hannah screamed.
âWell,â Kendra laughed, âMaybe she will apologize once sheâs changed.â
âI-itâs okay, Miss Kendra,â Sammy said.
âYouâre sweet,â Kendra said, turning to the group, âSorry, little ones, Iâll be right back after a quick diaper change. Hold tight.â
Another caregiver stood up. âI can change Hannah for you, Kendra. You have a gaggle of Littles hanging at your every word. And Iâm much better at changing diapers than reading out loud!â
Kendra smiles thankfully. âAre you sure? Sheâs a handful when sheâs like this!â
âNot a problem! Believe me, my little one knows how to throw a tantrum or two when he doesnât want to be changed.â
âWell, thank you,â Kendra says, handing over a screaming Hannah to the Caregiver, âMy diaper bag is right over there.â
âGot it,â she says, âCâmon, Hannah, letâs get you changed.â
Hannahâs screams died down as she was carried away. Kendra sits back down, searching for where she left off.
âSammy, honey,â Allie whispers in Sammyâs ear, âWhy donât you come over here with me for a second?â
âO-okay,â Sammy moans, not wanting to miss any more Harry Potter. She follows Allie to her seat.
âJust thought youâd want some privacy,â Allie says.
âAllie!â Sammy squeals as Allie lowers Sammyâs jeans and inspects Sammyâs diaper.
âHoney, nobody is paying any attention,â Allie assures Sammy, pulling her jeans back over her diaper, âYou donât need a change quite yet. Go back and listen to Harry Potter.â
Not wanting to risk any further embarrassment, Sammy immediately heads back and sits next to Jane.
âSorry about that,â Jane whispers, âDidnât mean for Hannah to fall on you.â
âItâs okay. She was really upset!â Sammy answers.
âShe does that every time she has a messy diaper! Youâd think sheâd be used to it by now. But nope. A tantrum every time.â
âHow do you know?â Sammy asks.
âSheâs myâŠwell, I guess little sister,â Jane responds, âKendra is both our Caregiver!â
âOh! I thought she was only Hannahâs Caregiver.â
âNope, mine too! I just prefer not to be mentioned every Littleâs Corner. Itâs embarrassing.â
Jane gives Sammy a look somewhere between pity and understanding. âOh. Yeah, itâs hard at the beginning. But it gets easier, I promise.â
âI hope so,â Sammy says, âBecause it still feels strange being in diapers and having a Caregiver follow me around.â
âYeah, I know. I watched Hannah go through it three years ago. She fought and fought. But sheâs much happier now!â
âWhat do you mean?â Sammy asked.
âWell, her dream was always to attend college and be a teacher. She babysat for the entire neighborhood from the moment she was old enough. I think she wanted to be a first-grade teacher. I donât remember, exactly. Definitely elementary school.â
Sammy felt a pit form in her stomach. âDidâŠdid she ever go to college?â
âNo,â Jane answered flatly, âThe daycare program said she couldnât handle college courses. So, that was that.â
âHow did she handle it?â
âWell, by the time she was denied, I donât think she really cared. I think she enjoys the attention as a Little.â
âShe enjoys it?â
âI think so! You think itâs hard to believe?â
Sammy hesitated. âI mean, yeah. Itâs hard to imagine enjoying this, you know?â
âOh, I donât know. I mean, it does at first, sure. But thereâs something comforting about knowing someone is watching over you, caring for you. Not having to stress.â
âIâŠI guessâŠâ
âYouâll see what I mean! Thatâs why it is almost impossible to make it through the college daycare program. So many Littles fail. But they never seem to mind, in the end. I was lucky, my grades were terrible. Wasnât going to college anyway.â
Jane realized her mistake immediately. âDefinitely not impossible. Two people from my grade made it to college! Iâm sure you can, too!â
âIâŠI hope soâŠâ Sammy whimpered.
Before Jane could answer, Hannah rushed over to Jane. âAll clean! No more ickies!â
âGlad to hear it, squirt! Come here,â Jane said, sitting Hannah between her legs.
Hannah turned to Sammy. âHey, wanna come pway, Sammy? I have wotsa fun toys and a pool! We can pway Mermaids!â
âYouâre such a sweetie,â Jane said to Hannah, âAlways making friends. But sheâs right, Sammy. You should come play!â
âIâŠokay,â Sammy said unevenly. She did want to make some friends. But the thought of a playdate was still nerve-wracking. âIâll have to ask my Caregiver.â
âAsk me what?â Allie said.
Sammy jumped. âOh, I didnât know you were there!â
âYou three were chattering away! Didnât even notice Kendra had finished reading!â
Sammy blushed.
âCan Hannah come pway with us, Miss Sammyâs Cawgiver? Pweeease?!?!â Hannah asked Allie, jumping up and down.
Allie looked at Sammy. âWell, I donât see why not! Would you like that, Sammy?â
âPwease, Sammy!â Hannah squealed, âWeâll have the bessest time ewer!! Pwomise!â
âAre you making more friends?â Kendra interrupted, picking Hannah up and putting her on her hip.
âMhm! Dis Sammy!â Hannah said.
âHello, Sammy,â Kendra said, âIs this your Caregiver?â
âAlyssa,â Allie told Kendra, âSammyâs my new Little.â
âNice to meet you, Alyssa. Iâd be happy to host you two for a playdate! We can have some wine by the pool while they swim. And my husband has been itching for an excuse to fire up his new grill.â
As Allie and Kendra exchange numbers, Sammy frets over what Jane said. Was it actually that hard to make it to college? Would she end up like Hannah? Would she become so little she'd throw tantrums over messy diapers in public?
It was all Sammy could think about until she fell asleep later that night.
It took a second for Sammy to comprehend how huge LittlesâRâUs actually was when they pulled into the parking lot. It made Costco seem small by comparison. This wasnât going to be a quick trip.
Sammy took a deep breath, trying to not feel so overwhelmed. She couldnât help but notice Allie was treating her much more like a Little than ever before. Movie night now felt like a lifetime ago. She still didnât feel like a Little. She felt the same as she did the day she received the news.
JustâŠwith much less bathroom control. And did get a bit sleepier around midday and around 8 PM, and, she had to admit, did have to work harder than usual to not be emotionally overwhelmed. But still, adjusting to being treated like a Little was harder than she expected.
âYou ready, Sammy?â
âDo I have a choice?â
Alyssa laughed, âwell I guess not, no. But I want you to stay close to me, this store is huge and I donât want you getting lost, okay? I want you to hold my hand or the cart at all times.â
âIâm not a baby,â Sammy huffed.
âI never said you were, Sammy. I just donât want you getting lost. What would you do if you got lost? You donât have the keys to the car. You donât have a cellphone to call me. What would you do?â
âWell, I would have my cell phone if you didnât take it away!â Sammy retorted.
âWe went over this, Sammy,â Alyssa said sternly, âyou donât need a cellphone like you had. We can get you one designed for Littles in the future, but I donât want you surfing the web and getting into trouble.â
Sammy stuck her tongue out Allie before she realized she was doing it. Her face flushed with embarrassment.
âWell, that is a great point there, Sammy!â Allie laughed, ânow can you hold my hand?â
Sammy did. They walked into the store. It was hard to fathom how large it was. There seemed to be endless rows of Littleâs products of all levels. It was so big, Alyssa grabbed a map before heading to the counter.
âHello,â the woman at the counter said nicely, âhow can I help you today?â
âWeâre here to get everything set up for my new Little, Sammy,â Alyssa responded.
âWhat a cutie!â the woman said looking down at Sammy, âthe first trip is always so exciting! You get to pick out everything your heart desires, little one!â
Sammy couldnât bring herself to respond. Instead, she hid behind Alyssa in embarrassment.
âSheâs still a bit shy,â Alyssa acknowledged.
âWell, thatâs perfectly fine!,â she said to Sammy before turning back to Alyssa, âI can get you set up, did you bring the paperwork from the Littles Registration Office?â
âYep, right here.â
âPerfect. Okay. So I see Sammy here is a Level Two Little. Most of the L2 supplies are down towards the back. Just head straight down and you canât miss it. Youâll find the diaper aisle on the way, as well as any of the products that are appropriate for both L1s and L2s, such as bottles, sippy cups, and diaper bags.â
âGreat,â Alyssa replied, âbut these shopping carts donât seem big enough to carry everything, though.â
âWhoops, I almost forgot! Youâll use this scanner here to select any of the bigger items youâd want. We offer same day delivery and installation if you finish before noon, which gives you three and a half hours, plenty of time. For things like diapers, you can put some in your cart, but the rest you can scan in and weâll delivery them along with any furniture. And everything you scan will be added up and once you get to the checkout, the government rebate will automatically deduct from the total and you can pay the difference, if any, there.â
âThank you so much,â Alyssa says as the woman gives her the scanner, âI think we can figure it out from here!â
Alyssa grabs a cart. âOkay, Sammy, you ready to start?â
âI-I guess,â Sammy whimpers.
Unsurprisingly, the diaper section is huge. There are diapers of every size, thickness, color, interest.
âIt lookâs like the L2 diapers are a few rows down,â Allie says, consulting the map.
âWhatâs the difference between L1 and L2 diapers, Allie?â
âWell, L1s and L2s have different needs. Remember, L1s arenât able to walk or talk, so their diapers need to be different than for L2s. L1 diapers are way thicker since they donât need to worry about walking. Theyâre so cute though. Iâm sure we could get you some!â
They get to the L2 diaper aisles. Sammy sees there are three sections: Daytime Diapers, Nighttime Diapers, and Swim Diapers. Each design had a diaper on display, to let the Littles get a better idea of each design.
âOkay, lets start with daytime diapers,â Allie says, âwhich ones do you like best, Sammy?â
Sammyâs stomach sank at the question. This made it feel so real. She was going to pick out the diapers sheâd wear for the rest of her life.
âI-I donât know,â Sammy whispers.
Allie pulls Sammy in for a hug. âItâs a lot, I understand, Sammy. But would you rather have me pick out boring, ugly diapers? If youâre going to wear them anyway, you might as choose the ones that match your style!â
Sammy doubted diapers would ever match anyoneâs âstyle,â especially not hers. As she looked around, she definitely didnât think anyone of these diapers would do that. All of them were in sickening pastel colors or complete with babyish cartoon patterns on them. She started walking down the aisle, seeing her options.
âLook at this one, Sammy!â Allie encouraged, âthese oneâs have astronauts and these oneâs have rockets on them!â
Alyssa knew it was a mistake as soon as she said it. Sure, they did make the most sense for Sammy, but maybe it was still a bit too soon for Sammy to want them.
Sammy teared up almost immediately. It was one thing to go from an adult to a Little, but going from potentially being a rocket scientist, to wearing rockets on her diaper was just too much. Tears welled in Sammyâs eyes.
âIâm sorry, Sammy, I should have known that was a stupid suggestion! I didnât mean to upset you!â
âItâs not fair!â Sammy whined, âI donât want to wear diapers with rockets on them, I want to work on rockets! I want to go home!â
Alyssa kicked herself. She should know how to not set off her own Littleâs tantrums, even if this was so new. âSammy, please, everything is okay. Come here.â
âNo!â Sammy shrilled defiantly, stomping her feet, âI wonât do it! I wonât choose a diaper! I wonât be a Little! I wonât I wonât I wonât!â
Sammyâs screams echoed across the store, drawing sympathetic looks from other Caregivers. Alyssa stood there, unsure how to help Sammy.
âItâs okay youâre upset, Sammy. Itâs okay to be angry. I know you donât want to be wearing diapers. These are big emotions, itâs perfectly fine to feel them. But right now you need to choose some, okay? Itâs not up for debate.â
Sammy looked mutinous. âIâm not a baby! You canât make me!â
Alyssa sighed. âSammy, now is not the time for screaming. I understand youâre frustrated, honey. But you need to calm down and explain to me how youâre feeling, alright? You cannot scream like this in public. Can you take a deep breath for me, Sammy?â
It took a few more stomps, but eventually Sammy gave in and took a deep breath.
âThank you, Sammy. Youâre doing great. Now let all your anger and frustration out as you breathe out, okay? Nice job. One more time. Good girl, Sammy. Now, can you tell me how youâre feeling?â
Sammy took a few steadying breaths. As she did, she felt herself calm down, regaining the clarity she had before. âI-Iâm sorry, Allie! Sometimes it feels like I lose control and just want to cry and scream, I donât know w-whatâs happening to me.â
âI understand, Sammy, itâs easy to feel overwhelmed, isnât it?â
âYeah.â
âBut we canât yell and scream when that happens, can we? We need to talk about our feelings before they explode, okay?â
âY-youâre right, Allie.â
âYou have nothing to apologize for, Sammy. Just promise when you start to feel overwhelmed, youâll tell me, okay?â
âOkayâŠâ
âThank you, Sammy. Thatâs very mature of you. Now, can you help me choose some diapers?â
âYeah, I can, Allie,â Sammy says, looking back at the rocket ship diapers, âI actually do want them, Allie. I want to see them so Iâll always remember my goal, to be the first Little rocket scientist ever!"
**This series is based on and in the same universe as in "Classified: My New Life." I don't know which version is the original, so I won't link it, but its on Wattpad. I'm not a true ABDL, but even I know its an amazing story. Trying to do it justice."
Samantha could barely pay attention. Sheâs heard this same spiel so many times. She gets it. Sheâs over it. Sheâs not going to be a Little anyway, so why does she have to sit through her school principal drone on about it again and again?
Today was Classification Day. Every year, on the last day of high school, students receive their test results. Samantha had heard it so many times before, she knew exactly what the classifications were: Caregivers, Neutrals, and Littles. The classifications were based on DNA tests. Each person was genetically predisposed to one of the three.
Caregivers were the backbone of society, according to the principal. Caregivers, unsurprisingly, were usually found in jobs and roles that allowed them to help others, filling their genetic desire to be needed. In the years before they turn 25, they gain more strength to allow them to meet the needs of their roles. 25 is a special age for Caregivers. Itâs the age they are legally deemed Caregivers. Itâs the age they are allowed to adopt Littles, should they desire to do so.
Neutrals gain no genetic advantages (or disadvantages if you ask them). They are genetically identical to humans before the Great Mutation, when humans suddenly developed the Caregiver and Little genes. They are allowed to adopt Littles, though the process is much more complicated. Neutrals, for the most part, live regular lives.
Littles, on the other hand, fall into three categories. Level One Littles lose the most muscle mass, emotional maturity, and physical abilities, such as walking. Most lose the ability to say more than a few words. They are, for all intents and purposes, babies.
Level Two Littles are commonly referred to as Toddlers. They are mobile, able to walk and talk, but lose all continence. They, like Level One Littles, are in diapers full time. They lose much of their emotional maturity, though retain all their previous mental faculties.
Level Three Littles are the most independent of the Littles. They often have decent potty control, with some requiring Pull-Ups in case of accidents, and some even able to go without any protectionâprovided they can get to the bathroom in time. Both Level Two and Three Littles were permitted to attend simplified college courses and even hold some jobs, provided their Caregiver permits it. And of course, subject to their needs and requirements as Littles.
But none of that mattered to Samantha. She had everything planned out. Sheâd been accepted to Stanford University on a full scholarship with the engineering department. She was literally going to become a rocket scientist.
âWhy do we have to sit through this again,â Samantha asked her best friend, Lindsay, âhow many times do they think we need to hear this?â Samantha and Lindsay had been best friends since first grade. They grew up together, they might as well have been sisters.
âItâs the worst,â Lindsay replied. Lindsay also had a bright future ahead of her. Sheâd be attending UCLA on a volleyball scholarship. Her whole family was tall and athletic. Both Lindsayâs parents and sister were caregivers. No one doubted Lindsay would be one too.
Samantha and her parents were Neutrals. Nobody in her family had been anything but Neutral. Unlike Lindsayâs family, Samanthaâs parents held deeply prejudicial views about Littles. They were "burdens on society, living off the system." Samantha was careful to hide her parentsâ prejudices from her friends.
âDo you think your sister is going to adopt someone from our class?â Samantha asked Lindsay. Alyssa, Lindsayâs sister, was 27 years old. Samantha had always looked up to Alyssa. Alyssa always had her life together. She attended USC on a volleyball scholarship, won two national titles, and graduated summa cum laude with a degree in accounting.
âI hope so! Sheâs been talking about adopting a Little for two years,â Lindsay huffed, âIâm sick of hearing about it. Just do it already.â
One tedious hour later, the principal had finished. The seniors were sent to their homerooms to receive their results. Samantha sat next to Lindsay, same as always. Their teacher called each of their names, handing them an envelope with their Classification results. The class waited until all the results had been handed out before they opened their results.
Around the room, people reacted to their Classification. Samantha, not worried about her Classification, watched with the others with interest. Most were, unsurprisingly, Neutrals, as Neutrals represented about 55% of the population.
Mark Gillespie, the starting quarterback of the football team, screamed in anguish. He put his head down, sobbing. Samantha knew what that reaction meant; Mark learned he was a Level One Little.
She turned to Lindsay, âpoor guy, he was so good at football too. Maybe your sister will adopt him!â
âI think Alyssa wants a Level Two Little to be honest,â Lindsay said as she opened her envelope. She smiled, âCaregiver, surprise! Open yours, Sam!â
Samantha opened her envelope. She read it once. âNo, no that canât be right,â she thought to herself. She read it again. The world froze around her. Every time she read it, she started over, assuming it was a bad dream, and that the next time she read it sheâd see âClassification Result: NEUTRAL.â
But it never did. No matter how many times she tried, she couldnât change it. She stared in horrified disbelief:
Classification Results: LEVEL TWO LITTLE.
Chapter Two here.
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