Taking a switchy toy and brainwashing them so that they're normally a really mean and horny dom, but the second they put on their strap their pathetic subby personality comes out in full force (with them completely unaware of this trigger obviously)
Being pushed around and talked down to all day by a cocky arrogant dom with a god complex; making me crawl on all fours, slapping my ass whenever I walk by, locking my dick in a little cage and promising to show me a real dick later while making me call them titles and thank them for taking my pleasure away
But once they've got me on the bed and are readying themself to plow me until I beg for mercy, they suddenly snap back to remembering that I'm their goddess whose body they worship and whose word dictates their every thought because they're too weak willed and pathetic to have a will or mind of their own
Handing me the key to my cage with the most apologetic look imaginable before kissing every inch of my cock while muttering out tearful apologies and begging me to punish their transgressions, taking every punishment with a smile and rapturous thanks before having the best orgasm of their life as I fuck their cunt and jerk their strap while they moan about how much better my dick is than theirs and how they'll worship me till the end of time, which they will, even if they don't know it
I bite my lip and close my eyes as I slide into her. She tenses and squeezes around me, sending waves of pleasure shooting through my being as I fill her up.
"Fuuuuuck," I moan, "You're so fucking… tight!"
She whimpers and groans beneath me, her hands working their way to my waist, where she wraps her hands around my hips, and starts pushing me back.
"Baby," she moans as she presses her palms against my waist, gently forcing me back out of her, "It's too much."
I let out a little whimper of disappointment as I feel myself pulled from her, the pressure of her all encompassing presence suddenly absent.
My mind feels fuzzy. Animalistic. I can't understand what's happening.
"What?" I chirp out, unable to keep a desperate whine from my tone, "Too much?"
She moves her hands from my hips to my shoulders, pushing and pulling to gently guide me to my back. I comply, confused, desperate, and eager to comply with anything that will allow me release.
"You're too big," she says softly, one of her hands drift between my legs and wrapping itself around my cock, "You hurt."
She kisses my neck as she strokes me, causing me to buck and moan in need and frustration.
"But," I groan, "I… mm… I need you… I need…. gah… this!"
My thoughts are scattered as she continues to tease and play with me.
"I know, baby! I know! But you wouldn't want to hurt Mommy, would you?"
Mommy?
The unbridled desire I'm feeling as she slowly strokes my shaft lets the word easily slide out of my head.
"N… No," I choke out a response, "But, I… mm… I need…."
She smiles as she crawls on top of me, hand still gripping me hard.
"You need release. Mommy can help with that."
She kisses me before reaching into the nightstand and grabbing something dark.
I buck a little under her weight, neediness starting to overcome obedience.
"Please," I whine.
Before I know it, there is a finger on my lips as she is holding something thick, white and square in front of me.
"I know it seems silly, but, if you do what Mommy says, I promise you'll have the best little orgasm of your life!"
I raise an eyebrow as she starts to unfold the object, revealing it to be a thick, adult-sized diaper.
"Wha.." I say, sitting up to get a better look as she lays it out on the bed, "What's that?"
She sits on the middle of the puffy, white rectangle and smiles.
"The perfect way for a big boy like you to get his icky, big boy release!"
She closes her eyes and bites her lip before a loud, hissing sound comes from between her legs. I look, and see the thirsty padding of the diaper greedily drinking in the hot piss flowing from between her legs.
"Mmm! Yeah! So fucking good!" She moans as she runs her fingers through her hair.
Despite the oddity of it all, I'm incredibly turned on.
"I… You're… I…"
I can't form a coherent thought.
Watching a grown woman piss and open diaper in front of me is entrancing.
I don't need words, it turns out.
She finishes relieving herself, climbs off the diaper, and pats the bed next to it.
"Come here, big boy! Mommy made this one special for you?"
I whimper, but do as I'm told, clambering over the bed to lay my ass on the warm, wet padding of the used diaper.
She smiles in approval at my unquestioning obedience.
"Good boy," she coos before stroking my penis once, before taping me into the infantile garment.
As I realize my rock hard cock is now tucked away behind a layer of thick padding, I start to get frustrated.
"But… Why… You promised…"
I sling half-formed accusations at her from my seat on the bed.
She shakes her head in amusement.
"I did promise, baby. And Mommy always follows through with her promises! Now, lay back and let Mommy take care of you!"
She puts a hand to my chest and pushes me back before I have the chance to comply on my own.
In a moment, she produces a vibrating wand from seemingly out of nowhere, and presses it to the front of the soaked diaper taped around me.
The effect is instantaneous.
"Fuuuuuuuucccckkkkk"
The wet warm diaper and powerful vibrations feel incredible. I can't help but rock my hips into the wand.
"I told you that you would like it," she giggles at my involuntary little show, "But, now, be a good boy for Mommy and show me how you make cummies!"
I can't understand words.
I don't understand tone.
My brain is blinded with pleasure.
In a moment, my eyes roll back in my head as I'm shooting a warm, sticky load into the thick padding of the diaper.
My body tenses, then relaxes, and then everything stops.
She's laying on my chest, rubbing my softening cock through the soggy padding.
"Such a good boy for Mommy," she moans.
I shudder.
"And this is how you're going to cum for me for now on," she continues, "I mean, you don't want to hurt Mommy, would you?"
Girlfriend who is so determined to get you into diapers she forcibly takes your potty training from you 😵💫 every night she pretends to go to sleep with you only to slink out of bed, coming back with a bowl of warm water. She puts your hand in it and watches as you wet the bed helplessly.
She wakes you up in the morning to show you what you’ve done and you promise her through tears it’s just a blip! “Aw baby, don’t worry! I’m sure it’s just a one off…” and here comes this but “but just in case maybe you should wear a pull up tonight?”
You don’t even question why she has pull ups just on hand but she talks you into it with that silver tongue of hers over the course of the day and you find yourself standing as she helps you into a pull up, sliding it up your hips as you stand there rethinking your life choices.
Rinse and repeat… she stands and watches as you wet your pull up, hand in the bowl again. Just as she hoped, your pull up overflows and you wet the bed anyway. This time, she wakes you up feigning concern as her lovely girlfriend is clearly a proper bedwetter now and she just must have you wear thicker padding tonight, no ifs or buts!
Again, you don’t question why she has a pack of adult diapers in the wardrobe, you’re just thankful that she’s so prepared for your accidents! Your girlfriend praises you as she tapes you, her adult partner, into a diaper! “Gosh you look so cute in this! You should totally wear these all the time!” She says as she presses a quick peck to your lips and helps you up.
She does this for months until you’re a genuine bed wetter, never waking up with a dry diaper ever again. At least you’re okay during the day right? Sure… until she starts adding those pills to your juice…
A current fantasy of mine is having a mommy girlfriend who’s such a pervert over your mouth but never lets you cum…
Think about it! Every day, morning and night, you eat mommy out/suck mommy’s thick girl dick while you’re totally denied yourself, put in thick diapers (sometimes double diapers if mommy is in one of her moods 👀), only focusing on her pleasure with the promise of being rewarded with a fresh diaper after being left in your currently soaked one all day.
You’d get better and better at it as time goes on, figure out what makes her cum quickly, all to be a good girl for your mommy! All you know is mommy loves how you make her cum and you love being her subservient little diaper girl ❤️
Chastity is very important for girls. Keep a girl denied long enough and she turns into a completely different person. Keep her edged and denied until her brain turns to mush. Till she’s nothing but a fussy haze - unable to focus on anything but the relief between her legs and the constant want to hump something to relieve all of her stress and pressure. When she’s unable to think and function like a grown up anymore it’s only right to regress her for her own safety and well being. If she’s too addicted to trying to achieve fruitless pleasure someone else needs to take care of her instead. In a sense treat her like the oversize child she is. She’s just a girl after all.
As a finishing touch swap her underwear to nappys fully time. She can’t be trusted to go to the bathroom so why not just remove that choice to save her the effort, plus they work extra great to catch all the horny girl leaks and drips she makes from her constant denied aroused state. She can’t help it, she can’t form a coherent thought anymore. Naturally if your start dressing her like an oversized baby you might go the rest of the way too. Fill her wardrobe with the most effeminate girly pink outfits, dresses and onesies you can buy. Convert a spare room into a nursery for your oversized baby, feeds her in a high chair and make her drink out of a bottle, have a play pen or some form of safe area for her to enjoy some age appropriate activities, etc… Always increasing her denial further and further making the situation for her progressively “worse.”
This all stemmed from her addiction to denial. If she was a real women. A big girl, none of this would happen. But no she wanted to be pathetic, she wanted to be used, be owned. This was her own doing, this is what she asked for - she didn’t know what would start as some kinky bedroom fun would become such an out of control spirit. But now she can’t remember the last time she had an adult though? The last time she did anything for herself? The last time she wasn’t surrounded by pink girlie colours? The last time she woke up in a dry nappy? The last time there wasn’t a burning desolate ache between her legs?
Nora’s boyfriend dragged her by the ear inside their apartment. “What time do you call this, missy?” he asked sternly. “You were supposed to be back an hour ago!”
“Ouch! Stop!” Nora cried. “We just stayed out a bit longer than we planned! What’s the matter with you? Owie!” Her words were slightly slurred. She was still a little tipsy from all the gin and tonics she and her girlfriends had drank that afternoon.
“Then why didn’t you tell me? I was worried sick about you, baby!”
“Let go of my ear!” Nora squealed. “My phone died!”
Her boyfriend let go of her ear at last, but his nose twitched, and he frowned. “How much have you had to drink?” he demanded. He must have noticed the alcohol on her breath. “Did you drive home like this?”
Nora’s face reddened guiltily. “I… I’m not that dru-” Her words turned into a gasp of shock and pain as a hard smack landed on her bottom. She stared at her boyfriend open-mouthed. He’d hit her. Smacked her! She took a step backwards. This was a different side of her boyfriend, one that usually only came out during sex, and while she couldn’t deny that her pussy was tingling a little at his commanding attitude, things were going too far. She didn’t feel like a naughty slut being bossed around in the bedroom. She felt like a misbehaving toddler about to be put in time-out.
“Bad girl, Nora!” her boyfriend scolded. He grabbed her by the arm and spun her around, lifting up her dress and delivering several more painful swats to her behind. “Very bad girl! Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”
“Ow! Ow! Stop!” Nora squealed, squirming to free herself from her boyfriend’s grip. “Stop it! You can’t treat me like this!”
“Oh yes I can, baby,” said her boyfriend, still spanking her rapidly reddening tushy. “You think you’ve got all kinds of rights, silly girl. A right to go out with your friends whenever you want. A right to drink alcohol. A right to be treated like an adult. But those are privileges, and in this house you’ll lose privileges for bad behaviour. I’m your boyfriend, and that means I’m responsible for you.”
“You’re not responsible for me!” Nora insisted. She fought as hard as she could to escape the smacks raining down on her bum, but her boyfriend held her in place effortlessly. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. “I’m a grown woman!” she whined.
The spanking stopped, and her boyfriend spun her back around, putting a finger up to her face. “You’re a naughty child,” he said firmly, and before Nora could say anything else, he was dragging her over to the bedroom. “If you’re going to act like a baby,” he said, marching her along, “then I’m going to treat you like one.”
They entered the room, and at once Nora’s eyes were drawn to the bed. For a second she stared in total confusion at the thick disposable diaper that was laid out on top of the sheets. Then she realised what her boyfriend meant to do.
“No!” she shrieked. She tried to back out of the room, but his grip on her arm was too strong. “I’m not going to wear that! I’m not!”
“Oh yes you will,” said her boyfriend. “You’re going to wear them and you’re going to use them until I decide you’ve earned your way back into adult underwear. In the meantime, you’d better get used to pottying in your pants, missy. Perhaps that will help you understand how immature you are!”
“Ouch!” Nora yelped as her boyfriend delivered another hard swat to her backside to move her closer to the bed, and her new nappy. “This is crazy! If you think I’m going to take this, you’re out of your mind! OW!”
One Year Later
Nora crawled to the living room on her hands and knees, her thickly diapered rear wiggling in the air behind her as she crept along, looking for her Daddy. Over the last few months, she’d found out there were an awful lot of privileges she could lose. The privilege of choosing her own clothes had quickly joined her potty privileges in the dustbin, and frilly frocks and overalls and stupid baby tees had replaced her elegant dresses and tight jeans – although, like now, she often wore nothing but a nappy inside the house. Not long after that, she’d lost the privilege of feeding herself, and deciding what she ate and drank. Alcohol was a big no-no, of course, and she had to drink exclusively from a baby bottle so she didn’t have any spills. Usually she got to eat whatever Daddy was having, but sometimes she’d just have a big bowl of yucky baby food plonked down in front of her instead. That was happening more and more lately.
It was hard to be a good girl. There were just so many ways to misbehave, and so many privileges to lose! The privilege of acting smart, of watching adult television, of not constantly drooling down her chin. The privilege of walking and talking and getting to cum. She hadn’t realised just how deluded she’d been about her rights, how much she’d taken for granted. Daddy said she had a lot to learn.
She reached the living room and crawled inside, grinning behind her dummy when she saw Daddy sitting in his chair. He looked up as she entered, his smiling eyes lingering on the sagging, yellowed nappy swinging between her legs.
“Uh-oh!” he said. “I think little Nora’s done a big pee-pee, hasn’t she?”
Nora blushed and giggled. His warm tone made butterflies flutter in her tummy. Even though Daddy could be very strict, he was very loving too. He held out his arms. “Come to Daddy, baby!”
Nora hurried over happily, eager for a nappy change. Even after a whole year with disgusting dirty diapers strapped to her bottom, she wasn’t used to the yucky feeling of going potty in her pants. Pee-pee wasn’t as bad as poopy, but she could feel the cold, icky wee-wee padding pressing against her privates, and if she thought about it for too long, it made her want to gag. She’d sank so deeply into her new lifestyle that sometimes she almost forgot she was a grown woman being punished, but a full diaper that badly needed changing would always remind her.
She reached Daddy and got up on her knees, looking at him adoringly, her pacifier bobbing cutely between her lips.
“What’s the matter, baby?” he asked. “Did you come looking for Daddy?”
Nora nodded her head and wiggled her bottom, making her soaked nappy sway from side to side between her bare thighs like a pendulum. She looked down at it pointedly and then back up to him. She wasn’t allowed to speak unless a grown-up removed her soother, so she gurgled stupidly, hoping it would put him in a good mood.
He laughed. “I think I know what my baby wants,” he said, and Nora grinned more widely behind her paci. Good. She could get out of this horrible thing at least. “My little girl wants to suck!”
Nora’s face fell as Daddy unbuckled his belt, undid his zipper, and pulled out his hardening cock. No! That’s not what she wanted! She shook her head and gestured down at her wet diaper, but Daddy just pulled her dummy out of her mouth and, before she could say a word, shoved his dick between her lips.
Nora groaned in displeasure, but she didn’t fight. She’d lost the privilege of saying no to him long ago. Her sore asshole and her tramp stamp tattoo (“Daddy’s Baby Bitch”) could attest to that. Once, she’d hated anal and been adamant that she didn’t want any tattoos. Well, she supposed that was still true... But Daddy was in charge of her body now, and Daddy liked to use her butt, and he liked the way she looked with a trashy tramp stamp on her lower back, so now she did anal and had tats. She’d never liked blowjobs either, but Daddy loved to feel her mouth wrapped around his cock, so…
He pumped her face up and down, his hands gripping her pigtails tightly. “That’s a good girl,” he said, breathing heavily. “That’s a good girl, Nora. This is where you belong, nice and safe with Daddy.”
Nora gagged and choked on his cock, feeling it shoving into her throat.
“My precious girl. A good baby who knows her place. Who might just spend the rest of her life in diapers.”
Nora moaned unhappily at that. She struggled to extract her lips from Daddy’s dick, but he was too strong, and she didn’t dare bite down. The rest of her life?! That wasn’t right!
“Getting to grow up again is also a privilege, baby,” said Daddy, thrusting into her mouth faster and faster. “And if I keep finding resistance from you, I’ll revoke it. Then you’ll be stuck. Like this. Forever.” He came down her throat, and Nora swallowed it all fearfully. She hadn’t realised getting her privileges back was a privilege too. She was such a stupid girl. As she slumped to the floor, gasping and panting, her pissy diaper squelching between her legs, she resolved to be on her very best behaviour from that moment on. Then maybe, one day, Daddy would let her be a big girl again.
putting you in a diaper and declaring that for the night, the safeword will be literally any word. if you want this to continue, you will babble or you won't speak at all. i expect an excited, "abah!" in response :3
My thick throbbing girl cock slaps against your face as you begin to stir with consciousness again, your cunt and stomach ache as you feel my thick creamy tgirl cum drip out of your abused cunt.
"hey! No passing out yet! You agreed to be my Fleshlight today so you still have a few more loads to milk out. Look! My balls are still sooo fat~"
Your head swims with the memories of all the gallons of nutsludge my thick drooling cock has slammed into you... But you feel my heavy balls press against your face and you almost instinctively open your mouth to begin spit shinning my girly nutsack <3
"ah~ thanks, Fleshlight <3 now say 'aaaah~' <3"
Your brain can barely understand the command but you're already beginning to understand how good it feels to be nothing but a transfems Fleshlight... You stop kissing my balls and watch the spit drip from them as you back up to stare at the tip of my fat girl cock... You watch every vein throb with power while precum drips from the tip and realize your place... You were meant to serve this. Not even the goddess attached to this magnificent girthy cock... But simply the breeding rod itself. Your role in life is to be a condom for this girls cock <3
It’s been over 4 months since I’ve watched porn and jerked off like a big boy. I’ve only made stickies twice in the last 4 months doing it myself, both times were in a pissy diaper with a vibrator. 😭
Thankfully, mommy keeps me extremely well satisfied hehehe, it’s just crazy to think I’ve given up this thing to her.
Masturbation to kink porn has always been a core part of my sexuality. It was a need that had to be fulfilled. It’s wild to be in a relationship where that need is fulfilled by someone else. I never thought I’d willingly give up jerking off to porn, but here we are!
@bugsterr I love you mommy! Thanks for being my mommy and for all the attention and energy you put into my submission to you. ❤️
Something my sweet lil' baby forgot to add was that the last time he watched porn and jerked off like a big boy outside of a diaper...he didn't even like it. It was even harder for him to get close! I've trained his beautiful, dumb lil' boy brain to crave and need me...my touch...my guidance...my presence... I love my needy, obedient baby so very much 🥰
(accidentally posted this stream of consciousness draft but figured I'll just correct my typos and leave it up for you guys. a peek behind the curtain of what I'm getting off to 99% of the time aka total disorganized fap fodder ,,)
Pervert kidnapper who steals me off to his remote cabin and turns me into his live in pet sex toy dog thing
Making me walk around nude outside, just panties and a collar and maybe mitts when he feels like it or little socks
Making me come out onto the back porch while he enjoys the nice weather so he can smack my cunt and watch me squirm, and shove his hand into my mouth until I'm choking and gagging and dry heaving, drooling around his fingers. Instead of leashing me, he straps another collar around my waist and cinches it tight like a corset so I'm having to sit just so and breathe carefully. He clips a yard line to it and used it to pull m around.
If I have to pee he makes me go out and piss in the grass like a dog in front of him, and uses the hose to spray off my cunt afterwards, not caring how cold it might be,,
The tight waist cinch also makes it so I can't eat or drink too much with it on and my bladder gets full faster so I have to pee a lot.
Ughhh giving me an enema with the waist cinch on to clean me out and me gasping and panting and bucking because it feels so tight it hurts until he allows me to release all the liquid again.
Bringing me back out to it on the porch and making me slide down a massive lubed dildo the size of his arm to sit on the floor next to him. Working on his laptop and occasionally telling me 'bounce' so I bounce up and down on it on command, but otherwise stay still.
Eventually I beg for the waist cinch to come off because it hurts and makes it hard to breathe, and he allows me to remove it, but I have to clip the leash to my collar. Making me choose to be contained to earn relief, but all I care about is the painful tightness around my tummy. I obediently move the clip to my collar, scrambling to remove the waist cinch and gasping when it finally loosens, shakily setting it down nicely for my owner and panting and rubbing my sore belly where there are deep indentations from the leather.
" Bounce," he instructs. " Five minutes, no breaks. "
I don't even hesitate, I just brace myself and start to piston my hips up and down the thick shaft violating my guts, like a good pet. I'm lightheaded and drooling but I keep on working, fully obedient. My legs shake and I'm drooling and my hole aches but I complete my five minutes, thighs trembling as I sink down again.
He has me blow him between meetings while I ride the big dildo. He either cums down my throat or paints my tits with it. Either way afterwards he makes me drink water until I can't take any more, then later makes me piss myself in the yard standing up so he can watch my swollen tummy shrink and my embarrassment grow and aok my legs, all so he can hose me off again.
Maybe he starts to condition me to where I can only piss when I'm being penetrated.
-
Sitting on a fat dildo bulging my tummy, collar around my neck, dildo gag shoved into my throat and strapped into place, wearing nothing but cute babydoll socks and ankle cuffs an the collar, ankle cuffs chaining me to the porch. He might even blindfold me, tell me to keep riding until he comes back, then puts in earplugs and leaves me alone. Just a wet, dripping, convulsing mess pumping myself up and down a massive horse cock, drooling, paws in mitts so I can't free myself, outside and on display as I obey my owner.
I keep fucking myself until my legs give out, even then till trying to hump it like a good puppy, tears and drool dripping down my face as I choke and gag and keep trying to ride my toy.
Him coming back to let me but only removing the gag so he can fuck my face and cum down my throat, really grinding into me, pressing my face in hard and making me gulp down every drop and wait patiently to be allowed to breathe again.
He could even mount me on a fuck machine on his porch. Keep me nice and hydrated so I squirt often and wet myself while he has two cocks pistoning into my obedient body, coming by intermittently to fuck my throat.
"Mommy's on her time of the month, so guess what that means, sweetie? Yep! You get the special bib this week!
That's right, cucky! You're on sucky duty!
Awww! No pouting, princess! Don't give Mommy that lip. You knew this was cumming the second your Auntie Flo showed up, didn't you??
So pick your little head up, sweetheart. That's enough of the pity party. Pull back your piggie tails and let Mommy get this on you!
Snap
Theeerrre we gooo!! Awww!! Don't you look adorable in your wittle dwess and bibby?
Now listen close, cleanup boi: You need to put that pretty mouth to good use tonight and keep Daddy happy. You don't want him getting all fwustwated and grumpy because Mommy can't play, do you?? Noooo, you sure don't! We both know what happens when Daddy gets fwustwated, don't we?
Mmm...yea. He takes it out on your soft little sissy bum bum, doesn't he? Mhm. So you're going to be a very good helper and give him the extra sloppy toppy he deserves.
You better keep it nice and wet, baby. I want rivers of drool running down your chin the whole time. I want to see you blowing bubbles on that fat cock while you suck and slurp like the greedy little cock-warmer you are. This bib better be fucking soaked by the time he's done, do you understand me? Dripping. Heavy. Clinging to your chest like one of your wet, pissy pampers. You're going to earn every single diaper change this week with your mouth, aren't you, princess?
Open wide for Mommy. Show me that tongue. Further. Good girl. Such a pretty sight.
Now, you're going to suck it exactly like it's your favorite paci. Except… oopsie! It isn't a paci tonight, is it? Nooo… it's a big, thick, meaty ba-ba! Your special grown-up ba-ba that gives you all your yummy milkies straight from the tap and into your tummy. Mmm, that's right. You're gonna wrap those pretty painted lips around it and suckle like a good little nurser. Loud. Sloppy. I want to hear it, sweetie. I want you doing the gluck gluck like a good little cuck. Let the whole room hear how grateful you are.
You'll lick his balls and you'll even lick his asshole if he tells you to like the filthy little bib-boi you are. And when he's ready? When you hear those deep grunts, feel his thighs flex and his balls draw up tight?
You pull off just enough, open that mouth reaaally wide, stick your tongue out flat like a little pink landing strip, and you say: "Ahhh!!" You hear me?? You fucking goo-goo and ga-ga and beg for him to give you his goo goo. Nice and loud and pathetic so he knows exactly where to aim. Then you stay perfectly still while he paints your face… your tongue… and especially this pretty bib. Every hot, sticky rope belongs right here on your reward napkin.
And when he's finished? You don't wipe. You don't swallow unless I say so. You just kneel there letting it cool and dry on your skin and plastic while Mommy takes a few pictures of her pretty little helper for the scrapbook. Because this, all of this, is what good little cuckies do when Mommy's week comes.
Ohp! I think I hear him down stairs!!
Come on, honey! It's time for your big hello. And remember sweetie: Mommy wants to see bubbles. Lots and lots of bubbles."
A businesswoman is given a regression sentence by the court after her fraud and embezzling are discovered. Hannah is used to a high-powered, high-status lifestyle, but after her sentencing she’ll have no choice but to adjust to her new life as an adult toddler.
***
“Listen, the judge is probably going to give you a regression sentence. You need to be prepared for that.”
“What are you talking about?” Hannah asked her lawyer impatiently. “What the fuck is a regression sentence?” Then she frowned. “Wait a minute… I think I’ve heard of that. But isn’t… Isn’t that when…” Her eyes widened.
Her lawyer avoided her gaze, busying himself with the papers on the desk in front of him. The rest of the courtroom bustled around them, all waiting for the judge to finish deliberating.
“What the fuck, Eric?!” Hannah demanded. Her heart was beating very fast in her chest. “What am I paying you God-knows-how-much an hour for?! Do something!”
“I’ve done all I can, Hannah,” he said flatly. “But to be honest, this is an open and shut case. You should count yourself lucky you’re not getting ten years in prison. I’m pretty sure I’ve got you out of that. Besides,” he continued, still not meeting her eyes, “regression sentences aren’t so bad. You’ll be much more, uh, comfortable than you would be in a prison cell.”
“Comfortable?!” Hannah spat. She remembered hearing about a woman from a rival company who’d been given a regression sentence. Apparently she’d been brought along to a social function by her mother and paraded around in front of all her former coworkers dressed like a toddler. Now that Hannah thought about it, she had a feeling that woman had been convinced of some kind of financial crime as well. She remembered having a good laugh at the time, imagining one of her competitors swapping business suits for baby rompers, but there was nothing funny about it now. She felt as though her heart had dropped into her stomach. That couldn’t happen to her!
She wanted to get more information out of Eric, but at that moment a loud, deep voice carried across the hall. “Attention everyone!” the judge shouted, banging his gavel down on his desk to bring order to the room. “I’ve reached my verdict! Will the accused please stand!”
The courtroom was suddenly quiet, and Hannah got to her feet nervously. Please let the sentence be lenient.
“Miss Whitehouse,” the judge addressed her, “I’ve had some time to consider what kind of sentence would best suit someone of your position. You’re clearly a powerful figure in the corporate world.”
A fine, Hannah prayed. Community service. Anything!
“And I think a little demotion is in order,” he said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. “I’ve decided that you would benefit most from a regression sentence.”
“No!” Hannah shrieked.
“Oh yes,” the judge went on, clearly enjoying himself. “Miss Whitehouse, for the crime of fraud and embezzlement, I sentence you to spend the next five years living as a two-year-old.”
Hannah could only stare at him in silent horror, her mouth hanging open. Five years as a two-year-old?! This couldn’t be happening!
“You appear to have no remorse for your crime whatsoever,” the judge went on, “but you’re still young, and it’s my belief that little girls like yourself deserve a softer alternative to the prison system. Maybe half a decade of nappies and bottles will sort you out, young lady. You’ll be released into the custody of your mother forthwith, and will live under her care and supervision for the duration of your sentence – although she reserves the right to deliver you into the hands of a state-run adult discipline nursery, or alternatively have your sentence converted to ten years in prison should you prove unruly. That is all.” He banged his gavel three times, and got up to leave.
The courtroom started buzzing with noise, and Hannah turned on her lawyer with panic in her eyes. “You have to stop this! Call a mistrial or something! This can’t happen!”
“It doesn’t work like that, Hannah,” Eric said resignedly, packing his notes away into his briefcase. “There’s nothing we can do now. You’ll just have to take your sentence and count yourself fortunate it wasn’t worse.”
“I’m not going to let myself be treated like a baby for the next five fucking years!” Hannah screamed. There were some titters from the rows of seats behind her, and she gritted her teeth in anger. “What did he mean by… by nappies and bottles?” she asked. “Surely they don’t… they can’t actually expect me to…”
“I’m sure it will all be explained to you soon, Hannah,” said her lawyer. He finished packing away his things and straightened up. “Good luck.” His eyes flicked upwards to a point just behind her, and Hannah turned to see the policeman who’d escorted her earlier that day smiling at her.
“Time to get going, sweetie,” he said, and she bristled at his condescending tone.
“Don’t call me sweetie,” she hissed, but the officer just chuckled, grabbed her arm, and started dragging her out of the courtroom through a side door. “Hey!” she squealed, trying to wriggle free. “Stop! You can’t manhandle me like this!” But it was no use. He was much bigger and stronger than she was. Hannah looked around for her lawyer, intending to shout for help, but all she could see of Eric was the back of his head disappearing into the crowd exiting via the main doors.
“Don’t be fussy, darling,” said the policeman. “I’m just taking you to your Mummy.”
Hannah blushed furiously and writhed in his grip, but he easily pulled her out of the courtroom and into the room beyond, where her mother was waiting with a wide smile.
“Hi, baby!” she cooed. “Aren’t you a lucky girl, avoiding prison time? Are you looking forward to five years back with Mummy? I certainly am! I can’t believe I get to have my baby girl back!”
“Mum!” Hannah squealed. “This is ridiculous! I’m twenty-nine years old! You can’t let them do this to me! I don’t care if the law says you’re my legal guardian again or whatever, but there is no way I’m letting… OWWIE! What the FUCK?!”
Her mother had strode up to her, yanked down her smart suit pants along with her thong, and delivered a sharp smack to each of her bum cheeks.
“Language, young lady!” she scolded, taking her daughter from the smiling policeman and holding onto her arm just as tightly. “Naughty words like that are a no-no! And this underwear is absolutely unacceptable! Thankfully the court’s provided me with something much more appropriate.”
She reached into a bulky pink bag that Hannah only just noticed she had slung over her shoulder, and pulled out an enormous disposable diaper, pure white but for the little teddy bears, rattles, blocks, and safety pins that decorated the outside.
“I’m not wearing that!” Hannah screeched. “I’m not!” but her mother delivered several more stinging swats to her bare bottom, making her yelp in pain.
“Settle down, little lady,” she said sternly. “Or I’ll pull you over my knee and give you something to really scream about.”
Hannah whimpered. Had her mother gone mad? She was an adult woman, not a little girl, no matter what the stupid judge said!
Mrs Whitehouse led her daughter over to a large changing mat on the floor and lowered her down onto it. Hannah sniffled and rubbed her bottom where her mother had smacked her, still not quite believing what was happening. Her mother pulled her pants and underwear all the way off, along with her plain socks and stylish black heels. She patted her daughter’s bum lightly, and Hannah instinctively lifted it up, allowing her mother to slip the giant nappy beneath her bottom.
“Please, Mum!” Hannah begged, as her haughty façade began giving way to genuine terror. “You don’t have to do this! We can just pretend you did and I can live a normal life!”
But her mother ignored her, humming merrily to herself as she sprinkled baby powder over Hannah’s nether regions. “This will keep your nappies smelling nice and sweet!” she said cheerfully. “Until you make a big, smelly mess in them of course!” she tittered, leaning forwards to plant a kiss on her adult daughter’s nose.
Hannah cringed. Wearing nappies was bad enough, but she would certainly not be using them!
“And there we go!” her mother announced happily, doing up the tapes of the giant diaper and patting the front in a satisfied way. “All ready for your wees and poos!”
Hannah felt sick as she looked down at the infantile thing bulging between her legs, so thick that she didn’t have a hope of properly closing her legs. Her mother helped her to her feet, and she stood there bow-legged, the bulk of her diaper pressing her thighs so far apart that she felt unsteady on her feet. But the horrors weren’t over yet. Her mother quickly stripped her of her jacket and shirt, and her bra followed soon after, leaving Hannah totally naked but for her nappy. But when she saw what her mother had in mind for her to wear, she almost wished she could stay topless.
Out of the pink bag, Mrs Whitehouse pulled an incredibly short pink frock, the skirt of which was so frilly that it looked more like a tutu than anything else. The sleeves were puffy and stupid-looking, and when her mother pulled it over her head, Hannah’s lower lip trembled as she realised the dress left at least three inches of her nappy peeking out of the bottom. She felt an icy fear spreading through her body. She couldn’t be stuck looking like this! Not for five whole years!
Her luscious dark hair was pulled out of its sensible bun and tied into a ponytail, frilly white socks were slipped onto her feet, and after them a pair of light-up trainers, just her size. Once she was done, her mother stood back to take in the sight of her adult daughter dressed up like a nursery schooler on her way to visit granny.
“You look perfect, baby!” she gushed. “Now, I think it’s about time we took you home! I can’t wait to show you your new bedroom!”
“Mummy, please!” Hannah sobbed, kicking and squealing over her mother’s knee as her plump bare bottom got redder and redder. “I’m sorry!”
“You’d better be sorry, young lady,” her mother said, still raining smacks down on her exposed rear. Hannah’s nappy had been pulled down to allow more access to her rapidly reddening tushy. “I’m not going to tolerate naughty tantrums, missy! Mummy didn’t set up a lovely nursery for you just to have to stomp your feet and say it’s too babyish! You’ll be sleeping in a crib for the next five years, so you’d better get used to it!”
“I’m sowwy!” Hannah cried, her diction falling apart as tears fell down her cheeks and she started taking in heaving, gasping breaths. “Pwease, Mummy! I’ll be a good giwl!”
Finally, Mrs Whitehouse stopped. “That’s better, sweetheart. Mummy knows you just need a little time to adjust. You need to start thinking of yourself as a big two-year-old, okay darling? Nothing’s too babyish for you anymore.”
Hannah sobbed and nodded her head, even as she cringed and seethed on the inside.
“Now, come along, baby.” Her mother taped her diaper back into place and pulled her to her feet. “It’s lunchtime! Off we go to the kitchen. There’s a good girl.”
With her mother holding tightly onto her hand, Hannah was led out of her new pastel-pink nursery and down the stairs. She hated the way her nappy bulged between her legs, giving her the awkward, unsteady gait of a young toddler – if he mother wasn’t holding onto her hand, she’d probably topple right over and fall on her bottom. She hated too how loud it was, how it crinkled noisily with every step she took, a constant reminder of what she’d been demoted to.
The two of them entered the kitchen, and Hannah stopped dead. “What… what’s that, Mummy?” she asked, falteringly staring at the thing in front of her.
“That’s your highchair, silly!” said her mother brightly. “It’s where Mummy feeds you.” She patted her daughter’s bottom – even through the thick padding of her nappy, it was enough to make Hannah wince. “Now climb in, honey. Time to get some num-nums in your tummy.”
Her face nearly as red as her bottom, Hannah clambered into the oversized highchair that sat at the kitchen table while her mother busied herself with the cupboards. She winced again as she sat down; her bum was throbbing painfully. A few moments later, Mrs Whitehouse approached her daughter with a broad smile and plonked an enormous bowl of baby food down on the tray in front of her. She scooped up a spoonful and said, “Open wide, baby! Here comes the aeroplane!”
Hannah kept her mouth sealed shut. She wasn’t going to eat baby food!
“Come on, sweetheart,” her mother cooed, pressing the spoon against her daughter’s lips, leaving a smear of baby food over them. “I promise it’s very yummy. It’s specially designed for women undergoing regression sentences, so it has all the nutrients you need. I’ve used your bank account to pay for a whole five years’ worth in advance!”
“You did wha-?!” Hannah demanded, but before she could get all the words out, her mother had shoved the spoonful of baby food into her open mouth. The taste wasn’t as bad as she’d been expecting, but something about the mushy texture turned her stomach.
“There’s a good girl!” her mother praised. “Good baby, Hannah!”
Meekly, Hannah allowed herself to be fed the rest of the bowl, and by the end of it, her stomach felt full to bursting. She was normally very careful about her diet, making sure never to overeat and ruin her figure – how many calories were in baby food?
But her meal wasn’t over. Her mother went away to put something inside the microwave, and thirty seconds later, she took out a large bottle of warm baby formula. Hannah felt queasy just looking at it. It was huge!
“Back to your nursery now, little one,” her mother said sweetly. “Mummy will feed you there and we can have a little cuddle.”
Hannah cringed again, but her sore, red bottom was still fresh in her mind, and she obediently allowed her mother to take her hand and lead her back upstairs, into her new bedroom. It was the room she’d had as a child, only her bed had been replaced with an enormous crib, complete with a hanging mobile above, the walls had been painted a soft pink and decorated with various babyish designs that matched the ones on her nappy, and an adult sized changing table stood in the centre of the room, with a large diaper pail squatting beside it. Her mother took her over to a rocking chair that sat in the corner, and, pulling Hannah face-up across her lap, she took a seat.
Hannah squirmed in her mother’s lap. She felt so helpless, so exposed, so infantilised being held like this, with her mother’s arm cradling her head.
“Time for your baba,” Mrs Whitehouse cooed, gazing down adoringly at her adult daughter, reduced to a babe in arms. She pressed the nipple of the bottle to Hannah’s mouth and slipped it between her lips. There was a moment’s pause, when Hannah looked as though she might be about to protest, but then she averted her eyes and began to suck.
The rich, sweet baby formula slipped down her throat, settling heavily in her stomach with the baby food, and as she suckled, Hannah started to feel so warm and relaxed that she thought she might even drift off, no matter how humiliated she was at being bottle-fed like an infant. Slowly she sucked and sucked until all the milk was gone, and her mother continued to hold her in her lap. She was half asleep when something suddenly jolted her back to full awareness. A powerful, growing achiness in her bladder.
She started squirming almost unconsciously, and before her mother could stop her, she’d slid out of her lap and stood up, pressing her hands to her groin.
“What’s the matter, sweetie?” her mother asked lightly, but there was a note of amusement in her tone.
“I’ve got to… I really have to…” She had to get to the bathroom now! Hannah blushed furiously and turned to leave the room, but her mother reached out to grab her arm.
“Uh-uh, little one. Where do you think you’re running off to? You need to stay where Mummy can see you.”
“But Mummy,” she whined, “I need to use the toilet!”
“Silly baby,” her mother tittered. “That’s what your nappies are for!”
But Hannah was barely listening. She was doing a full on potty dance now, squirming and bouncing on the spot with one hand pressed against her crotch. She wasn’t even sure she’d make it even if her mother let her go! “I can’t hold… Please! I need to go right now! Why do I need to go so badly?!”
“Just a little something in your baba, baby,” her mother said sweetly.
Hannah looked up quickly, her mouth hanging open. “What did you do to me?!” she shrieked.
Her mother cocked her head innocently. “It’s nothing to worry about, sweetheart. It’s just a little cocktail to help you lose that pesky potty training a bit faster. It’s recommended for all girls going through a regression sentence. Once you’ve been drinking it for a few weeks, you’ll be right back to where you were when you were two years old – not toilet trained at all!”
“No!” Hannah cried, looking utterly horrified. Her mother wanted to drug her up and make her incontinent!? “You can’t!”
Her mother raised an eyebrow at her sternly. “Hannah,” she said warningly, “Mummy’s already had to give your naughty bum-bum a spanking once today. If you think you’re too grown-up to use your pants as a potty then you’ve got another thing coming, young lady. You’re just a big two-year-old now, and two-year-olds aren’t potty trained.” Mrs Whitehouse delivered a sharp smack to the top of her daughter’s thigh, and Hannah gasped as her bladder released, and she started flooding her nappy with a powerful rush of pee. She felt the warmth spreading across her crotch, soaking into the thirsty padding of her diaper and causing it to sag down between her thighs.
“Ew! Ew! Ewww!” she cried. She reached for the tapes, intending the rip the disgusting thing off her bottom, but her mother slapped her hands away.
“No-no, Hannah,” she said slowly, shaking a finger at her like she was scolding an actual toddler. “That’s a no-no. You don’t play with your nappy. Mummy will change you when you need it. But right now, you’re acting very fussy, and I think you could do with a nap.”
“But it’s so disgusting!” Hannah cried, shifting from foot to foot and screwing up her face in revulsion as the heavy, pissy padding squished and sagged between her legs. “And I don’t need a nap! And I don’t want to drink any of that formula ever again!”
Mrs Whitehouse just shook her head with a patient smile on her face. “Babies don’t know what’s best for them,” she said condescendingly.
Hannah gritted her teeth with fury, but her bottom gave another painful throb, and she bit back her retort. She felt pathetic, but the truth was she didn’t want to go over her mother’s knee again. And she didn’t want to go to prison either. And she especially didn’t want to be sent to a state run adult discipline nursery. Was this really going to be her life for the next five years of her life? Being spanked like a child and made to take naps in a crib wearing wet fucking diapers?
Her mother stripped her until she was standing in her bedroom in nothing but her drooping baby pants. With an encouraging pat to her padded bottom, she climbed into her crib and lay on her back while her mother pulled up the side and locked it into place, leaving her trapped. She flicked a switch, and the mobile above Hannah’s head came to life. Cartoonish farmyard animals dangled from it. It started turning gently, and a sweet, tinkling, irritatingly infantile tune began to play.
“Have a good nap-nap, baby,” her mother said in a sickeningly sweet voice, and she turned out the lights and left Hannah alone in her nursery.
Clenching her eyes shut and holding her pillow over her ears to block out the tinkling lullaby sounds, Hannah did her best to ignore the hot, wet mass of padding between her legs, and slowly drifted off to sleep in her soggy pants.
“Bad girl, Hannah!” Mrs Whitehouse scolded her daughter, delivering a smack to the top of her thigh and making her squeal indignantly. “You do not ask for a nappy change, little lady! And you especially do not demand one! Mummy will decide when it’s time to change you out of your icky wet diaper.”
“But Mummyyyy,” Hannah whined, whimpering and trying to protect her bottom with her hands as her mother delivered another swat to her rear, “It’s so disgusting! And you made me take a stupid nap in it!”
“It doesn’t matter if it’s a little bit yucky, Hannah,” Mrs Whitehouse said sternly. “You’re just a baby.”
Hannah clenched her mouth shut to stop herself yelling at her mother. She was a grown woman!
“Besides,” Mrs Whitehouse went on, “your nappy’s only wet. The pamphlets the court gave me recommend not changing you at least until you’ve made a poo-poo.”
Hannah went scarlet. “I’m not gonna poop my pants!” she screeched.
“Oh yes you will,” her mother said. “Your special formula does more than just weaken your bladder, little one. And Mummy feed you an awful lot of yummy baby food. After your little nap, I’d say it’s only a matter of time before the poopy express arrives.”
Hannah cringed at her mother’s words and shook her head desperately. She would never do that in her pants. But she squirmed uncomfortably on the spot when she realised her mother was right – she did need to go. She could already feel the growing pressure building in her bottom.
“But there’s no need to worry about that now, baby,” her mother said. “It’s time to go downstairs! While you were napping, some visitors arrived to see you!”
“Visitors?!” Hannah squealed, feeling as though someone had just dumped a bucket of ice over her head. She couldn’t be seen like this!
“That’s right, sweetie,” said Mrs Whitehouse, ignoring her daughter’s protests and grabbing her by the arm and dragging her out of her nursery. “Now come along or Mummy will have to spank you again.”
“But Mummy,” Hannah whimpered, “I’m not dressed!”
“Yes you are, honey,” her mother said, glancing over her nearly naked body. “Silly babies like you don’t need to wear anything but their diapers.”
Hannah’s bottom lip trembled as she focused on the sore, red bottom hiding beneath her pee-soaked nappy. She didn’t want to go through that again. But she didn’t want anybody to see her looking like an oversized toddler either! What exactly did visitors mean? Someone from the court come to check up on her, to make sure she really was being treated like a two-year-old?
But when her mother led her downstairs and into the living room, Hannah felt as though her heart had stopped. It wasn’t someone from the court. Half a dozen people were stood around waiting for her, and she recognised all of them.
Her coworkers, her former coworkers, all burst into laughter at the sight of her.
Hannah just stood there, bowlegged in her sodden nappy, with her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’ of surprise. She felt almost dizzy with shame. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some sort of nightmare!
“That look really suits you, Hannah!” Peter laughed. He was a handsome man around her own age. They’d slept together sometimes, but now he was looking at her with a mixture of amusement and disbelief, his eyes travelling over her bare breasts and down to her sagging nappy.
“Yeah, nice diapers!” Beatrice taunted. She and her friends had never got on with Hannah – they’d made no secret of how much they disliked what they called her ‘superior attitude’, and now they were all cackling like witches together, clearly overjoyed by her little demotion.
“I think someone needs a change!” somebody tittered.
“It wooks wike baby has a vewy wet nappy!” another cooed.
“Awww, look how red she’s getting! That’s adorable!”
Hannah wished she could sink into the ground and disappear. She wished she could turn the tables on the whole lot of them! Her entire body was trembling with shame and fury. She opened her mouth, intending to shout, to scream that she was a grown woman who deserved respect. But a moment later, her bowels suddenly lurched into life. The pressure in her bottom became impossible to control almost immediately. For half a second, Hannah clamped down on her sphincter and tried to hold it in. But then it was too late.
Before she could do a thing to stop herself, as if her body were acting on autopilot, Hannah scrunched up her bright red face, stuck her thickly padded bottom out behind her, and started pooping her diaper.
She was barely aware of it as her audience shrieked and roared with laughter. She was too busy squatting there in disbelief as her body filled her nappy with the yuckiest of messes. She felt absurd. She felt like a joke. Come and see! The amazing, pants-filling adult baby! She’s gone from boardrooms to baby pants! How could anyone ever take her seriously again?! How could she take herself seriously? She’d been turned into a big, stinky baby!
“WAAAAAAAH!” Hannah cried pathetically, as she finished messing her pants and straightened up with a heavy load in her britches. She could feel it weighing down the back of her nappy, causing it to sag even lower between her legs. “WAAAAAAH! I don’t wanna be a BABY! I don’t wanna! I wanna be a GROWN-UP!”
Her former coworkers just laughed even harder, and her mother came up to her with a satisfied smile, then led her gently over to the large changing may laid out in the middle of the floor. “Come on, stinky pants,” she said gently, wrinkling her nose a little. “Time for a nappy change.”
Hannah didn’t have the energy to resist as her mother lowered her down onto the mat and started undoing the tapes of her loaded diaper. She was too busy sobbing. But even her crying couldn’t block out the sound of the laughs and ‘ewwws’ as her mother opened her nappy, lifted her legs into the air by her ankles, and started wiping her clean with a back of baby wipes.
“Oh hush, little one,” Mrs Whitehouse said, swatting her daughter’s bare bottom playfully while she sobbed and wailed. “You have to get used to your new life, sweetie, because it’ll be a long, long time before you get to go back to being an adult. No more business for you, baby. No more boys either. Just staying with Mummy and being a good little baby 24/7 for the next five years!”
Lying on her back with her legs in the air, in the middle of the first of many nappy changes, the businesswoman-turned-baby could only cry at the top of her lungs.
Hannah opened the door to her old office and toddled inside, carrying a load of files in her arms. “Here you go, Mith Vivian,” she said, blushing at her stupid lisp as she deposited the paperwork on her former secretary’s desk. She was legally an adult again, but she was finding a lot of the babyish habits she’d developed over the last five years hard to shift.
“Good girl, Hannah!” Vivian cooed, glancing up briefly from her work to flash her a smile.
Hannah pouted, and had to resist the urge to stamp her foot in frustration. It wasn’t fair! Her sentence was over! She was supposed to have her old life back, and yet here she was stuck as her ex-secretary’s “little helper”. Hannah fidgeted with the edge of her frilly dress, and heard a faint crinkling sound coming from beneath it. Her face reddened. That was another thing that was supposed to be over.
She turned away, intending to go and sit quietly in her play corner until Miss Vivian needed another errand running, but her former secretary’s voice stopped her. “One moment, little one,” she said sweetly, and Hannah turned back around to see her dotting the ‘i’s of her report and closing the cover. Then she looked up and smiled broadly. “I was just wondering…” she began in a stage whisper, “if there were any little girls in this room who need their nappies changed.”
Hannah turned scarlet, and this time she really did stomp her foot. “I’m nodda widdle girl!” she whined petulantly.
Vivian chuckled. “You’re right, sweetie,” she said, her smile widening even further. “I should rephrase what I said. Let me try again – are there any thirty-four-year-old ex-businesswomen in this room who’ve pissed in their adult nappies and need their former secretaries to wipe their asses for them?”
Hannah’s lower lip wobbled. She didn’t want to let Miss Vivian see she was upset, but five years of tantrums had reduced her emotional control to nothing, and she couldn’t stop herself bursting into tears like a little girl. “WAAAAAAAH!” she wailed. “IT’S NOT FAIR! I DON’T WANNA WEAR NAPPIES ANYMORE! I’M S’PPOSED TO BE A BIG GIWL!”
Vivian chuckled again, looking satisfied, but she put on an expression of mock-sympathy and pulled the crying woman into a cuddle. “Poor baby,” she cooed. “Is someone having a widdle waah-waah? Let it all out, darling. Miss Vivian’s here to hold you.”
Hannah sobbed miserably into her former subordinate’s cleavage, and felt Miss Vivian’s hand sneak down her back to squeeze the sodden diaper between her thighs. She could practically sense the grin on her face as she checked her ex-boss’s nappy and found it used.
“Whoopsie-daisy!” Vivian sang happily. “It looks like the pee-pee fairy came to visit your nappy, didn’t it darling? Your diapee’s full of yucky-wucky wee-wee!”
Hannah cried even harder at that. She was legally an adult again! This was all supposed to be over! She was allowed to have a career again and be self-sufficient, but it turned out most places weren’t willing to hire a woman who’d spent the last five years living as a two-year-old. Mummy had insisted she try to get a job though, and the only place that would take her was her old work, where she was treated like some combination of lowly intern and office mascot, earning minimum wage to waddle around the office running errands, getting teased and cooed over by all the people who’d once been beneath her.
She was technically an adult again, but nobody treated her like one. She was even allowed to have sex, something she’d been denied for half a decade, but Mummy said boys wouldn’t want to go out with a girl who still needed nappies. Silly girl, they’re gonna run a mile when they find out you still poop your pants! Best to just forget about icky boys and play with your dollies instead. She’d tried to seduce Peter when she’d come back to the office, but he’d just laughed and tickled her under the chin.
Her nappies were the worst. Even after five years she hadn’t gotten used to them. They were yucky and bulky and loud and stinky. She hated them. She’d tried desperately to get potty trained again, of course, but the ability to plant her adult bottom on a little plastic potty seat before she had an accident had proved to be beyond her. When she’d been taken to the doctor and told that the effects of the special formula on her bladder and bowels were likely irreversible, she’d had the biggest meltdown of her life. She’d spent the last five years looking forward to the day when she could finally be rid of nappies forever, only to be told right at the end that soaked and stinky diapers would forever be part of her wardrobe.
“Come along, sweetheart,” Miss Vivian cooed, unable to keep the sadistic delight out of her voice as she pulled out of the cuddle and led the still tearful woman over to the corner of the room where an adult-sized rocking cradle sat waiting. “You’ll feel better after a little nap-nap, okay miss potty pants? Have a little sleep and Miss Vivian will change that soggy nappy later. I’m afraid I’m far too busy to do it right now.”
Hannah sobbed pathetically, but allowed herself to be laid down in the cradle and have a bright pink pacifier shoved into her mouth to keep her quiet. Her pissy diaper squelched between her legs.
“That’s a good girl,” Vivian crooned, grinning down nastily at her former bitchy boss. “Have a lovely sleep, little one. Maybe you’ll even get to dream about being a grown-up!”
