“What’s wrong, sweetie? Why’d you waddle off like that?”
“Awww, sweetie, I didn’t mean to be condescending! I thought you’d jump at the chance at seeing my panties! Especially after I changed your poopy diaper. I just wanted to lift your spirits!”
“Duh, this is obviously pity. It must suck to still be in diapers at your age knowing everyone is out partying and getting laid while your babysitter changes your poopy diaper. So I wanted to do something to make you smile.”
“Well, yeah, of course I’m not going to do anything more with you. You’re 24, in diapers, and I’m babysitting you. You’re not exactly my type. And it’s safe to say you’re a virgin and you don’t get many of these opportunities. So why are you being so ungrateful?”
“Stop, that’s adorable! That’s what this is about? That was your first time even seeing a girl’s panties? Of course you made stickies in your diaper so fast! I’m not laughing! To be honest, that might be the greatest compliment any man has ever given me!”
“Don’t be embarrassed! I’m not judging! You’re a sweet, innocent, inexperienced diaper boy who had his first big boy moment! How cute! Besides, I would never compare you to the men I take home—you’re not like them!”
“Oh, you poor thing. I’m sure you want to be like them. But it’s not what you want. You don’t have a choice. You’re gonna helplessly fill every diaper whether you want to or not. And women like me will change them, but you’ll never get with them.”
“So why waste your time imagining you’re like those men? You’re perfect just the way you are. For you, intimacy with women isn’t about sex, it’s the loving, tender moments with them on your changing table!”
“Yes it does count! Didn’t you feel loved when I cleaned you up? Don’t you feel safe having me here, caring for you? And didn’t you feel special when I let you see my panties? That’s intimacy! Why isn’t that enough for you?”
“Hush! I don’t think I’m better than you! I’m your babysitter, this is my job! I don’t think any less of you because I change your diapers, make you dinner, or get you to bed by 9:30. Or that you’re a virgin. I think it’s adorable. I’m having a great night! So stop moping around.”
“I’ll tell you what, little one. If you stop your moping and come back to the living room, I’ll leave my pants off. I promise I won’t laugh if you make anymore stickies, okay? I’ll change you before bed so nobody will know about your big boy fun! Sound good?”
“Good boy!”
Raw || October 14 - 2019
Love the range of reactions here 😊
Elodie Yung
Just a quickie
The enchantress smiles at the wary hero after ambushing him in his tent… She approaches him with hero arms open to her side, indicating she has no hidden weapons and nothing to hide…
Enchantress: How about we make this interesting? I won’t cast a single spell until you get an erection.
Hero: What?
Enchantress: In fact, I won’t even touch below your waist until you’re so rock hard I can see your bulge through your thick clothes…
Hero: That’s ridic-!
Before he can react she has swept him off his feet. He lands on the soft tent floor, her hand protecting the back of his head from the hard landing. Her face inches from him. Her smile smug, her eyes lost in fondness and anticipation. He swallows nervously…
Hero: I have more control of myself now… In your bed, maybe I can’t resist you… But here on the rough and uncomfortable earth you cannot manipulate me…
The enchantress chuckles, not replying. She simply grasps his head with her hands and kisses him…
Her smell, her taste…
Hero: N-no…
Enchantress: Mmm~ Look at that, hero. It looks like I’ve broken that “control” of yours…
It’s slow but inevitable. The hero’s pants raise, a hill growing. He blushes in humiliation.
The enchantress lightly fondles the bulge. The hero struggles, but he’s held down with her magic… The hard and rough earth beneath him seems to fade away and he’s lying on a soft bed of light…
He can no longer resist her…
The enchantress lays down fully on top of him. Childishly, she enjoys the feeling of his erection against him, purposely shuffling her body over him to feel more of it, and enjoying the embarassment on the hero’s face.
The great warrior who has stoically fought horrors all across the kingdoms, reduced to squirming and groaning…
Enchantress: You are afraid…
The hero looks into her bright eyes. He is magically and hypnotically captivated… His voice a whisper…
Hero: I am…
Enchantress: Why are you afraid?
Hero: I’m so afraid of you… Of what torment you have in store…
The enchantress chuckles, approvingly.
Enchantress: I have many kinds prepared…
Hero: No…. Please…
Enchantress: There’s no mercy for you. Don’t waste time begging. Just move on to the next topic… What else are you afraid of?
Hero: … Of how you’ll … break me next…
Enchantress: So many possibilities… You have so much pride I can crumble… What else?
Hero: I’m always afraid of how small you make me feel..
Enchantress: You must learn.
Hero: How powerful you are…
Enchantress: More than you can comprehend.
Hero: How effortlessly you always win…
Enchantress: And I always will.
Hero: That you might leave me one day…
The enchantress pushes herself up. She looks down, straight into his eyes. She frowns shaking her head.
Enchantress: Mm mm. No. Not that one. That is the one torment I forbid you from feeling.
Hero: I’m sorry… You’re just so important to me, so beautiful, so out of my pay grade-
Enchantress: I won’t allow that. You will never feel that fear again.
One hand pressing against his chest, the other cupping the side of his face, she presses her forehead against his. Her hair falls, covering the two faces in a curtain of privacy. The hero has no choice but to stare into her hypnotic, beautiful face, and deep into a trance of love and lust…
Enchantress: Never… again…
Hero: N-never… again…
With that she smiles and relaxes, resuming her romantic power play.
“Brooke, honey? What did I say about swimming into the deep end without your floaties?”
You wince at her words, the infantile tone of her voice.
“I can swim, you know!” you retort, splashing the water in frustration.
“Drop the attitude, honey. You’ve been swimming for a while. Time to check your diaper.”
“Fineee,” you whine, “Only cause I’m thirsty anyway!”
Maggie just laughs at your silly little display. She knows you’ll huff and you’ll puff, but you’ll always obey.
Like the obedient little diaper girl you are.
You waddle over to Maggie, shaking slightly from the cold. You no longer care about the swim diaper bulging out of your pink swimsuit.
Maggie wraps a towel around you, rubbing your arms to warm you up.
“Did you have fun swimming, dear?” Maggie asks sweetly.
“Yeah!” you answer.
“Any poopies?”
“Maggie!” you shout as she adjusts your swimsuit and pulls back your swim diaper, “I didn’t!”
As if you knew.
You’ve long since stopped paying attention to the state of your diaper.
“All clean!” Maggie says in a proud disbelief, “Good job, Brooke!”
Maggie hands you a Sunny D and sits next to you. You greedily gulp it down.
“I’m so proud of you, Brookie,” Maggie says with that same maternal twinge you hate, “Did you know that? I’ve been your best friend since kindergarten and have never been prouder of you.”
You look at her, confused. “Proud? Wh-why?”
“Because, silly goose, you adjusted to your new life so well! I thought you’d struggle and fight! Yet, look at you! You’ve turned into such a well-behaved diaper girl for your Daddy!”
Your new life.
Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. You think about your descent into diapers. Your loss of autonomy. The conversation when your husband became Daddy.
Despite wanting to run and hide, you look into Maggie’s eyes, mustering as much pride and dignity as you can. “Th-thank you, Maggie.”
“You’re very welcome, cutie pie. And now that you’re right where you belong, I have something to tell you.”
Something about her tone made you weary. “Tell me what?”
“It was me, Brooke.”
Your heart skips a beat. Maybe two.
“What was?”
“Everything. All of this. This was all my idea. I was the one who convinced your Daddy you’d be happier being regressed. I found the medicine that put you permanently back in pampers.”
It was her?
“Wh-why would y-you d-d-do that?” you stutter, barely more than a whisper.
“Don’t act so surprised, sweetie. You were always so immature it’s not a big loss. And someone as immature as you deserves this. But they definitely don’t deserve someone like your husband.”
“I’m not immature!” you squeal, stomping your feet, “Not! Not! Not!”
Maggie laughs. “Sure, Brooke. Besides he was supposed to get with me, not you. We met him at the same party and I said I was gonna get a drink and go talk to him. And what did you do?”
You look at her, eyes wide in realization. This is some sick revenge. “I-I…but he was perfectly happy with me!”
“Then why did he send you back to diapers? I barely had to convince him! You’d think he’d want his wife diaper free if he wanted to be with her! But he sent you right to the nursery without a second thought.”
“No! He loves me! Not you!”
“Honey, of course he loves you! Why do you think he changes your diapers and makes sure you’re cared for? He just…doesn’t see you as a woman anymore. You’re…well, this.”
A diaper-dependent baby reliant on her Daddy.
“It’s not fair! I don’t want to be a baby! I want my Dadd—I mean Husband!”
“It’s too late for that, little one. You’re in diapers now. Permanently. You’re Daddy’s special girl. But that part of your life is over. You’re too regressed to be in an intimate relationship, sexual relationship. You have your stuffies now.”
It’s too much for your little head. You grab the towel and hide your head. Looking—and acting—every bit like the regressed baby you’ve become.
“Awww, is my little Brooke throwing a tantrum?” Daddy laughs, rubbing your back.
“Hey, hun,” Maggie says, “I was just telling Baby Brooke she’s gonna have a new Mommy.”
You’re on the verge of yelling until you hear the unmistakable sounds of kissing.
Daddy was kissing Maggie.
The implications shatter you. Your husband clearly doesn’t see you as a woman. As a sexual partner. Not anymore. This isn’t cheating to him because you’re not someone capable of being cheated on.
To him you are a baby. There’s no coming back from this. You’ve regressed past the point of no return.
And then there’s Maggie. Your “best friend.” Your Maid of Honor. Who doomed you to a second babyhood all because your husband chose you over her all those years ago.
The worst part is you’ll never escape. You’ll be in your crib helplessly filling your diapers while Maggie sleeps with your husband.
Treated like a helpless, needy baby. Listening to them coo you while you’re on the changing table, messy diaper permeating the room.
She won. You’re status as a pamper packer is inescapable.
“Isn’t that wonderful, Brooke?” Daddy asks, “You have a Mommy! Now we’re one happy family!”
“No!” you squeal wildly, “She did this! She wanted me to be a baby so she could get with you Daddy! She’s lying to you!”
Daddy sighs. “No, honey, she’s not. She told me everything. And she was right. I deserve a real woman. And you deserve loving caregivers and clean diapers. This way everyone wins!”
Except you.
Daddy moves the towel from your head. You see Daddy and Maggie looking down at you like a tantruming toddler.
A silly, helpless diaper girl.
“Come on, Brooke,” Daddy says, “You’re going to love your new life!”
“I promise, honey,” Mommy adds, “We’re one big, happy family now!”
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