Pacifying The Party Girl (AB/DL Collaboration)

Mummy's Girl - Part 1

Kimmy might be a twenty-two year-old-woman, but her potty skills have never been up to the level of her peers. Living firmly under the thumb of her controlling, condescending mother, she desperately wants to live an ordinary life of a girl her age, to make friends and go on dates and, above all, to say goodbye to dirty diapers for good. Unfortunately, her Mama has other ideas...

***

Kimmy hurried up to the front door as quickly and quietly as she could, praying her mother was preoccupied with something and wouldn’t notice her sneaking into the house so late – it was almost eight thirty in the evening, which meant it was past her bedtime. She tottered a little unsteadily up the drive, thanks in part to the half a dozen or so shots of vodka she’d had with her college friends at the bar after lectures. But there was another thing making her walk a little strangely; a thick pair of oversized Huggies pull-ups were pushing her thighs apart, and one of her hands was pressed urgently against her crotch as she fought desperately not to wet herself.

If it wasn’t for her babyish training pants and the childish clothes she was dressed in (a pale pink frock that could just barely pass for something a grown woman might wear), Kimmy would have looked the part of the archetypal blonde bombshell. As it was, her long golden hair looked more cute than sexy in braided pigtails, and her generous chest was hidden, crammed inside her tight blouse. Her bright blue eyes, plump lips, and perfect complexion were model-like, but at present her features were scrunched up with the effort of holding her aching bladder.

Nevertheless, there was no doubt that Kimmy was a beautiful, fully-grown woman. Although the toddler’s pull-ups she wore instead of adult underwear didn’t make her feel that way, she was actually two or three years older than most of her peers at university. It was her mother’s doing, of course. Mrs Jones had decided on three separate occasions that her daughter ‘simply wasn’t mature enough’ to move on to the next school year, and had insisted she be held back – once in kindergarten, then twice over the course of primary school, making her much older than her classmates. But she’d been the only one still toddling off to the nurse’s office at breaktime for diaper changes. At least she’d kicked her pants-pooping habit by the time she’d moved on to secondary school, even if she did still have to contend with wet training pants on a regular basis.

Now, though, the age difference wasn’t nearly as important as it had been, and even her pee-pee issues had almost completely dried up. At long last, Kimmy was free in a way she’d never been before, free from the humiliation of being a grown woman who still went to the bathroom in her own pants. She only wished she could be free from her mother’s constant coddling as well. She’d been worried her mum wouldn’t allow her to go to college at all, but with enough badgering, she’d eventually relented – on the condition that Kimmy choose a local university, and live at home rather than at a dorm. Unfortunately, that meant dealing with the same rules she’d had since the age of six.

“What time do you call this, Kimmy?!” her mother thundered the moment Kimmy entered the house. “It’s past your bedtime, little girl! Where have you been?!”

Kimmy let out a whimper and felt the familiar sensation of her bladder letting go in her pants. Warm pee flooded into her pull-ups at once, accompanied by a faint hissing sound. It had been a feeble hope, but there was a small chance she could have slipped in without her mother noticing if she’d been taking a bath or something. But she ought to have known better; her mum had never once failed to catch her breaking a rule in all her life.

Apart from being a little plumper, Mrs Jones looked exactly like an aged-up version of her daughter; the same golden blonde hair, only tied up in a tight knot behind her head rather than arranged in childish pigtails, the same large breasts, though in her case her assets were proudly on display in a tastefully tempting, low-cut top, and the same crystal blue eyes and full lips, perhaps a little less pouty than her daughter’s, but painted a deep, sensuous red. The most dramatic difference between them were their expressions, however. While Kimmy looked shy and sweet, her mother gave off an impression of severity and self-confidence.

“I was just out with my friends, Mama…” Kimmy said meekly, pulling a face at the icky feeling of the heavy, pee-soaked pull-ups squishing against her skin.

Her mother sniffed the air suspiciously and her eyes flashed. “Have you been drinking, young lady?!”

“I’m twenty-two, Mama!” Kimmy whined petulantly, looking down at her feet. “I’m allowed to drink!”

“As long as you’re under my roof, that decision is up to me, Kimmy! You know your bladder can’t cope when you…” She paused, sniffing the air again. “Oh, Kimmy…” she said in a disappointed, threatening tone. “You didn’t…”

Kimmy’s bottom lip trembled and tears welled up in her eyes as her mother reached out and lifted up the hem of her frock, exposing the faded wetness indicators on the front of her sagging pull-ups.

“Soaked!” her mother announced, as she inspected the discoloured training pants between her daughter’s legs. “This is exactly why you shouldn’t be drinking, Kimmy! I told you this would happen! Mama is very cross with you, little lady! I’ve been trying my hardest to finally get you potty trained, and you insist on going out of your way to make it as difficult as possible! Maybe you’re not mature enough for college after all…”

“No!” Kimmy squealed, eyes widening in fear. “Please, Mama! It was just an accident!”

“Two-year-olds have accidents, Kimmy, not twenty-two-year-olds. Perhaps daycare will suit you better than university…”

“I’ll be good!” Kimmy said desperately. Tears were spilling down her cheeks. “Please, Mama! Don’t make me drop out! I can be a big girl, I promise! I even have a date tomorrow with a guy from my class!”

Her mother said nothing for a few seconds. Then she sighed. “Alright, Kimmy. But you still need to be disciplined. Are you going to be a good girl and accept your punishment?”

“Yes, Mama!” Kimmy said at once, even though her stomach was twisting uncomfortably at the thought of what her mother likely had in mind.

“Then come me with, baby.” She took her daughter’s hand and led her to her bedroom. Kimmy’s heart sank as she watched her approach the closet, open the doors, and bend down to reach what Kimmy knew was sitting at the bottom. A moment later she straightened up, holding in her hand one of the enormous, custom-ordered Pampers that she used for her go-to punishment – diaper discipline.

“Mama, please…” Kimmy whispered, her bright eyes fixed on the huge nappy.

“Three days in diapers, Kimmy,” her mother said briskly, walking over to the large changing table that still sat in the middle of the bedroom and patting the surface. “Hop up. You know the drill.”

Her feet felt like they were made of lead, but Kimmy dragged them over to the table obediently and hoisted herself up.

“Good girl,” her mother said, quickly getting to work stripping off her clothes. “You just lie still and Mama will have that naughty bottom back in nappies in no time!”

Kimmy covered her face with her hands so she wouldn’t be able to see as her mother ripped off her pissy pull-ups and slid the bulky diaper under her bottom in their place. But she could feel the cool tickle of the baby wipe as the pee was cleaned off her skin, and there was no blocking out her mother’s voice. “There you go, Kimmy,” she said, pulling thick padding up between her legs and taping it into place. “Now you can wet yourself as much as you want, just like a baby. Do you remember the rules?”

“No toilets,” said Kimmy quietly. “No asking for a change. No touching my diaper.”

“Good girl.”

Kimmy took her hands away from her face and swung herself down from the table. Her gait was spread wide; as always, the Pampers felt absurdly thick between her legs – big enough to hold a full day’s worth of a grown woman’s pee.

“Mama,” Kimmy said hesitantly, “maybe I could just use them for number one, and then when I need to-”

“You’ll poop in them too, Kimmy,” her mother said firmly. “A full nappy will help you appreciate how immature you acted.”

Kimmy screwed up her face and tried not to cry. Wetting herself was one thing, but dirtying her diaper always transported her back to those awful days of her childhood when she still had poopy accidents. She wanted more than anything to leave that phase of her life behind forever. “Yes, Mama…” she mumbled.

“Now, brush teeth and straight to bed young lady!” her mother ordered, delivering a firm smack to her bottom to send her on her way. “No dawdling, or you’ll have a red bottom under your nappy by the time I tuck you in!”

***

The full story can be found on Patreon for those who want to read more.

A Halloween Story: Ghost Dick

Content Warning: ghost fucking, cnc, public

It started when I entered the house. My friend's friends rented the place for their halloween party and it looked absolutely awesome. It had everything: it was situated between tall trees, soft lights were scattered all around the place, most of them in carved pumpkins, giving the whole place an eerie glow. Paired with the low and dense fog it looked spooky. They decorated for the occasion as well: plastic skeletons and other fun halloween decorations were cleverly placed all around.

The inside was warm and welcoming, with soft music. There was punch, there were snacks, it was glorious. It was the first time I was really excited for a party like this when I normally tried to avoid too many people at once.

"It's a real haunted house!" my friend promised. Sure, of course it was. The whole thing was more of an old villa that was rented out for parties and such. It had a huge garden and many large rooms, perfect for things like this.

I felt a sudden chill on my nipples, causing them to harden and I was glad for my bra. Weird, though, that the cold would affect them like this. It wasn't particularly cold in the house. I shrugged it off and got myself some punch, mingle with the other guests. I wished that I had plugged my ass up. The weird chill on my nipples would be perfect. My cunt clenched around nothing. A plug up my ass would've made this so much better, but I didn't wanna risk it when there were so many people I didn't know.

There were some seriously awesome costumes all around, making me glad I'd made the effort myself. Spooky snacks and brightly colored drinks made the party perfect. I saw sexy witches and vampires, zombies, skeletons.

Then I felt it again, the sensation at my nipples. It was like something - something -, was touching them. I looked around, one or two women looked a bit funny as well. Was I not the only one? I discreetly swiped a hand down my front, but the sensation didn't stop. I made an excuse and went to one of the bathrooms. To my embarassment I couldn't hold in a moan when my nipples were pinched. My tits have always been sensitive. I stumbled into the bathroom, locked the door. My harsh breathing was loud and I was glad it wasn't a public bathroom where anyone could just walk in. I took a deep breath and slid my top off, then the bra. Yeah, my nipples were hardened and red aching points. They were so stiff and I thought I could see how they were manipulated. As if transparent fingers were there, rolling and pinching them. It certainly felt like it.

I could also feel how my cunt pulsed. I bet it was swollen and puffy, too. Fuck.

"Hey, you ok?" asked someone and knocked. Shit, how long had I stood here, looking at my own tits?

"Yeah, yeah," I said. "Be right out." I slid my bra and top back on. What else was I supposed to do? I unlocked the door to step out just in time for the transparent hands to palm my breasts, weigh them. They rubbed the palms all over my stiff nipples and I felt a gush of my hot wet arousal and squirmed a bit, rubbing my thighs together.

I tried to look normal when I got back to the main area, but soon noticed that I wasn't the only one behaving weird. Not only women, either. A lot of the people around lookd mildly concerned, some downright aroused. I saw cocks tenting pants and people trying to hide movements between their legs.

I wonder what was going on. My arousal peaked when I heard the first loud moan. "Fuck!" a man that was about my age groaned. "Fuck something's sucking my cock, fuck!" He exclaimed and pushed his pants down to reveal a stiff, glossy cock. I was fascinated and I thought, yes, I saw something moving, bobbing up and down his shaft.

The friend that invided me struggled, but something forced her arms up and her top and bra off. "Stop! Stop!" she shrieked but to no avail. Her pants came off too, but her cat ears stayed on as we all got to see her glistening pussy. "Ghosts," she moaned. "Fuckin haunted, house," but she couldn't finish her sentence. I was in the best position to see an invisible cock spreading her lips and sinking deep into her cunt. It was incredible to see her spread around nothing, or, rather, around something invisible.

I felt someone pant against my neck, icy cold. Oh god. The ghosts haunting this house had just waited for this, right? For a group of people to come here voluntarily so that they could fuck them - fuck us. I was pretty sure my ghosts knew that I was enjoying this like the slut I was. A cock was pressed against my ass, slid thorugh my crack and I wriggled my butt against him.

"Come on," I murmured. "Is she goung to be the only once having fun?"

I heard him chuckle. How perfect would it be to have him haunt me daily? To go to work with him there, always being able to touch me like this?

I moaned when I saw my friend sinking to her knees, still shrieking and struggling. She didn't seem to kneel willingly and then I saw why. Another invisible cock speared her asshole. "Get out of my ass! No! Out!" Her body was rocked as the cocks fucked her in tandem.

I looked around to find the other guests in various states of undress. Some were naked, some only lost their pants or their tops. I saw tits shaking with the force of thrusts and cocks being manipulated but the best thing was when the first guy got ghost-cock in his ass. First he struggled like my friend did, but then he really got into it. He begged for more, harder, more more more. I'm sure he came so hard he blacked out for a moment.

And I was denied. The hands still rubbed my tits, pinched my nipples. I barely noticed him undressing me because I was so frustrated. Everyone got cock but not me. When I was naked, I leaned over one of the couches to present my ass and cunt to my ghost. His cock nudged my folds, thick head pressed against my entrance without being pushed in. I tried to wriggle it in, pushed my ass out but he denied me and just started to tease my tits again.

I watched as cunts and asses got fucked. At one point, the ghosts manipulated two guests so they ended up with his cock in her cunt while both were fucked in the ass. Ghostly figures became more and more visible with each orgams.

The ghost teasing me finally gave in. He eased his cock into my cunt slowly and I didn't dare to complain as long as he'd just fuck me. The sensation was incredible. I felt his cold cock in me, spreading me but when I looked behind me, nothing more then a faint outline was there.

My tits jiggled with the steady thrusts. I tried to pinch my own nipples, but an invisible hand batted my hands away and I huffed and moaned, as I felt a mouth at my left tit while the other was being played with by cold fingers. So, a second ghost joined us? I wondered if they were able to stand at the same spot? Once fucking my ass while the other railed my pussy? Could I tempt them?

I reached around and spread my ass cheeks for them. "Slut," the ghost murmured and I felt a finger at the tight ring of muscles. A thumb slid inside.

"Someone better cum on her ass, we need lube," I heard him and wondered if I was the only one. The other gueses didn't seem to communicat with the ghosts at all. I looked for my friend. She was begging and begging for it to stop as she was forced to orgasm agian. When she didn't stop begging, something was shoved down her throat. How many ghosts were here?

I pushed back against the cock fucking me, but the rythm never faltered, torturously precise and slow. My juices were already dripping out of my cunt, down my thighs. I moaned when I felt cold cum on my ass and the tip of a cock between my cheeks.

Oh, god, yes. They could definetly stand on the same spot. The cum was spread around between my cheeks and a thumb slid into my asshole again, deeper this time, to tease me. It was soon replaced by the tip of a stiff, hard cock.

"Please, please, please," I babbled when it forced its way into my ass while I was still pounded from behind. Both cocks pushed deep into me until they were filling me completely. It was wonderful. They pressed me against the couch, forced me to stay still while I was impaled on these gorgeously thick, hard, cold cocks.

"This one's a keeper," one of them said as I struggled to fuck back against them, unable to move, still pressed against the couch.

"Mmm, yeah. You would like that, right, slut?"

The cock in my ass started to move, while the one in my cunt continued to pin me. "We'll choose you. You'll be our slut and toy 'til next year's Halloween." Now both cocks started to move, slid in and out of my holes and I fought to keep my eyes from rolling backwards. "You see how many of you are getting fucked right now? The next 364 days all of them will only fuck you. All day, every day." They started to move faster, harder. I panted, moaned. Yes, fuck. "Get used to two cocks in your slutty holes, make it three. You'll never be empty again as along as you're ours."

They fucked my wildly, forcefully and pushed me over the edge one time, two times, three times. Countless times as each and every ghost in this fucking villa filled me with cold cum.

And as they promised, the whole year at least one cock was up one of my holes no matter the time or the place I was.

Please leave a spooky tip for me on ko-fi 🎃

@monstergasms I hope you like this :D it's not quite what you requested, but as close as I could manage.

Don't bother following if you're a blank and/or ageless blog. I will block you instantly.

Banner by @cafekitsune ^-^

Lolette has broken the rules regarding patient contact

The regression clinic has strict rules. For example. All staff have to wear diapers. Another rule is that Nurses must not force patients to ejaculate unless this is required by their treatment program

Nurse Lolette broke this rule and now is to be punished

She is first gagged with the thick pacifier and strapped to the table

Next the nurses force her to listen to the powerful hypnosis tapes they use on patients to get them to lose their bladder control and to forget their potty training

Lolette struggles but can’t escape it won’t be long before she too is a drooling vacant incontinent little baby girl

The nurses remove Lolette’s thick diaper for the other punishment she is to suffer

Matron is kind enough to force a muscle relaxant/sedative into Lolettes mouth to loosen her up and reduce her ability to struggle so much

Lolette drifts off to sleep as the hypnosis tapes kick in

And all that is left is for Matron to insert a large butt plug deep into Lolette’s ass. She will wake up wet and uncomfortable. And then her nightmare really begins…

Image credit AB Dreams

Messy Caption Index

@babyclaire​ recently requested a list of messy content, and so here it is at last! It’s probably not exhaustive, but I hope the links are useful anyway. I’ll try to get together a messy story index too before long!

Keiko and the Bully

Showtime for Daphne

Baby Cassie at Play

Tessa’s Tribulations

Daphne’s Latest Patient

Auntie’s Little Stinker

Odette and Odile

Carmen’s Conditioning

One Dirty Date with Darren

Messy Training Tips

Baby Beckie

Sophie Makes a Stinky

Dreams of a Dirty Dolly

Betty’s the Boss

An Icky Orgasm for Ellie

Naomi’s Bet

Life with Auntie

Angel Dreams

Sheila and the IMP

Tiffany’s Tummy

A Date with Erika

Mona’s Messmaker

Getting laid

In the dimly lit living room of the frat house, the smell of pizza and stale beer lingered in the air. The walls were adorned with posters of rock bands and scantily clad women, typical decor for a fraternity. Two frat boys, Jack and Mike, lounged on the worn-out couch, half-empty beer cans in their hands.

"You just need to get laid, dude," Jack said, a smirk on his face. He took a swig from his beer can, his eyes glinting with mischief.

Mike chuckled, shaking his head. "Yeah, well, easier said than done. Did you see how Professor Collins looked at me today? Like I was some kind of bug she wanted to squash."

Jack laughed, a harsh sound that echoed in the room. "That old hag? She’s just mad because no one wants to bang her. I mean, have you seen her? She’s got that permanent scowl."

"Yeah, true," Mike agreed, his voice dripping with disdain. "But did you catch a glimpse of Sarah in class? Man, those tits... they’re like... gigantic. I can’t even focus when she’s around."

Jack nodded, his eyes gleaming. "I know, right? It’s like she’s got a couple of melons under her shirt. She probably uses them to get what she wants. You know how girls are."

Mike snorted. "Yeah, always playing the game."

Jack leaned back, his gaze turning thoughtful. "You know, we could always mess with her a bit. She needs to be taken down a peg or two."

Mike raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean?"

Jack’s smirk widened. "You’ll see. Just follow my lead."

As the two boys plotted, they didn’t notice the figure standing in the doorway, a small, discreet smile playing on her lips. Professor Collins had overheard their entire conversation, and she had plans of her own.

A few evenings later, the frat house was alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles. Jack and Mike moved through the crowded rooms with a sense of purpose. Their mission was clear: get laid. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and sweat, mingling with the ever-present scent of pizza and beer.

Jack nudged Mike, pointing to a group of girls by the makeshift bar. "Target acquired," he muttered, a sly grin on his face.

The two boys sauntered over, their swagger exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through their veins. "Hey ladies," Jack said, leaning against the counter with what he thought was a charming smile. "You girls look like you could use some company."

One of the girls, a petite brunette, rolled her eyes. "We’re fine, thanks."

Undeterred, Mike leaned in closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to have a good time. How about a dance?"

The girls exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. "Maybe later," one of them said dismissively, turning her back to the boys.

Jack scowled, but before he could say anything more, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Sarah, the girl with the 'gigantic tits' they had ogled in class, smiling at him.

"Hey, Jack. Hey, Mike," Sarah said, her tone warm and inviting. "Enjoying the party?"

Jack’s eyes lit up. "Sarah! Yeah, it’s great. How about you?"

"I’m having a good time," she replied, her smile widening. "In fact, my roommates and I are throwing an after-party at our place. You guys should come."

Mike’s eyes widened with excitement. "Seriously? We’d love to."

Sarah laughed, a sweet, melodic sound. "Great! Let’s get a taxi."

The boys followed her outside, practically tripping over themselves in their eagerness. They piled into a taxi, squeezing in beside Sarah, who gave the driver her address.

As the taxi sped through the city streets, Jack and Mike exchanged triumphant glances. This was their chance. They were sure of it.

A few evenings later, the frat house was alive with the sounds of laughter, music, and clinking bottles. Jack and Mike moved through the crowded rooms with a sense of purpose. Their mission was clear: get laid. The air was thick with the smell of cheap cologne and sweat, mingling with the ever-present scent of pizza and beer.

Jack nudged Mike, pointing to a group of girls by the makeshift bar. "Target acquired," he muttered, a sly grin on his face.

The two boys sauntered over, their swagger exaggerated by the alcohol coursing through their veins. "Hey ladies," Jack said, leaning against the counter with what he thought was a charming smile. "You girls look like you could use some company."

One of the girls, a petite brunette, rolled her eyes. "We’re fine, thanks."

Undeterred, Mike leaned in closer. "Come on, don’t be like that. We’re just trying to have a good time. How about a dance?"

The girls exchanged glances, clearly unimpressed. "Maybe later," one of them said dismissively, turning her back to the boys.

Jack scowled, but before he could say anything more, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He turned to see Sarah, the girl with the 'gigantic tits' they had ogled in class, smiling at him.

"Hey, Jack. Hey, Mike," Sarah said, her tone warm and inviting. "Enjoying the party?"

Jack’s eyes lit up. "Sarah! Yeah, it’s great. How about you?"

"I’m having a good time," she replied, her smile widening. "In fact, my roommates and I are throwing an after-party at our place. You guys should come."

Mike’s eyes widened with excitement. "Seriously? We’d love to."

Sarah laughed, a sweet, melodic sound. "Great! Let’s get a taxi."

The boys followed her outside, practically tripping over themselves in their eagerness. They piled into a taxi, squeezing in beside Sarah, who gave the driver her address.

As the taxi sped through the city streets, Jack and Mike exchanged triumphant glances. This was their chance. They were sure of it.

The taxi pulled up to a quaint, two-story house in a quiet neighborhood. Sarah led the way inside, where they were greeted by her roommates, a group of equally attractive young women. The living room was cozy and tastefully decorated, a stark contrast to the frat house.

"Welcome to our humble abode," Sarah said, gesturing for the boys to take a seat on the couch.

Jack and Mike plopped down, their eyes scanning the room. "Nice place," Jack commented, trying to sound suave.

"Thanks," one of Sarah’s roommates replied with a smile. "We like to keep it comfortable."

Sarah disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a tray of drinks. "Here you go, guys," she said, handing them each a glass. "Drink up."

Jack took a sip, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through him. "So, what’s the plan for the after-party?" he asked, leaning back into the couch.

Sarah’s smile turned mischievous. "Oh, we’ve got something special planned for you two."

The boys exchanged excited glances, their minds racing with possibilities. They had no idea what was in store for them.

The boys downed their drinks, feeling the warmth of the alcohol spread through them. They relaxed into the couch, exchanging excited glances and chuckling softly. Jack turned to Sarah, his eyes slightly glazed. "So, what's the special plan?" he asked, trying to sound casual.

Sarah's smile widened. "You'll see," she said, her voice sweet but with an edge that sent a shiver down Jack's spine.

Minutes passed, and the boys started to feel strange. A warm, tingling sensation spread through their bodies. They shifted uncomfortably, realizing too late that something was very wrong. Jack felt a sudden, uncontrollable urge and before he could react, he heard a faint hissing sound. He looked down, horrified to see a wet stain spreading across his jeans.

"Mike!" Jack gasped, his voice shaky. "I think I just... wet myself."

Mike's eyes widened in panic as he felt a similar sensation. He looked down to see his pants darkening with wetness. "What the hell?" he muttered, his voice trembling.

The girls around them burst into laughter, their mocking giggles filling the room. "Looks like our big, tough frat boys can't even keep their pants dry!" Sarah teased, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Jack's face turned crimson with humiliation. "This isn't funny, Sarah!" he snapped, his voice cracking.

"Oh, but it is," Sarah said, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "You guys wanted to get laid, right? Well, the only way you're getting laid tonight is on a changing table."

The girls' laughter grew louder as they surrounded the boys, their mocking words stinging like venom. "Looks like you two are nothing but big babies," one of Sarah's roommates taunted.

The boys, overwhelmed and humiliated, could do nothing but sit there, their soaked pants clinging to their skin. Sarah and her friends pulled them to their feet, guiding them through a doorway and into another room. The sight that greeted them was both surreal and terrifying.

The room was a giant nursery, complete with oversized cribs, a changing table, and shelves stocked with diapers and baby supplies. The walls were painted in soft pastels, decorated with cartoon characters and playful patterns. The scent of baby powder hung in the air.

Jack and Mike stood frozen, their minds struggling to process the bizarre scene before them. Sarah and her friends moved with practiced ease, leading the boys to the changing table. They were too stunned to resist as the girls began to strip them of their wet clothes.

"Welcome to your new home, boys," Sarah said, her voice a mix of amusement and authority. "From now on, you'll be treated like the babies you are."

The boys watched in a daze as the girls produced large, fluffy diapers, decorated with childish prints. Their hands trembled as they tried to cover themselves, but the girls were relentless. They gently but firmly laid the boys down on the changing table, their teasing voices a constant backdrop to the humiliating process.

"Don't worry," one of Sarah's roommates cooed. "We'll take good care of you."

Jack felt a mixture of fear, shame, and a strange, inexplicable sense of surrender as he was powdered and diapered like a baby. The thick padding crinkled as he was helped off the table, his legs wobbling slightly.

Mike, equally overwhelmed, found himself in a similar state. The soft, bulky diaper felt foreign and embarrassing, but he was too shaken to protest.

Suddenly, the door to the nursery opened once more. Professor Collins, the very woman they'd been deriding just days ago, stepped inside, her presence commanding the room.

At the sight of her, both boys felt an involuntary release, the warmth spreading through their diapers as they wet themselves in sheer terror. The professor's lips curled into a cold smile.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Professor Collins said, her voice dripping with mockery. "Two big, tough frat boys reduced to helpless little babies. How fitting."

Sarah and her friends giggled, their laughter echoing in the room. Jack's face burned with humiliation, his earlier bravado shattered. Mike looked away, too ashamed to meet anyone's gaze.

Professor Collins stepped closer, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "It seems you boys have learned a valuable lesson. But we're not done yet. In fact, your reeducation is just beginning."

The boys exchanged horrified glances, their confusion evident. "Reeducation?" Jack stammered.

Sarah stepped forward, a confident smirk on her face. "Yes, reeducation. You see, Professor Collins has been working with us on a special project for her research in feminism. We're going to turn frat boys like you into good little babies, and then raise you to be better men."

The professor nodded, her gaze unwavering. "You've been chosen as our new research subjects. We'll be documenting every step of your transformation. From arrogant, misogynistic boys to respectful, well-behaved men."

Jack and Mike were too stunned to respond. The realization of their predicament sank in slowly, bringing with it a wave of dread. This wasn't just a humiliating prank. This was a complete, enforced regression.

Professor Collins leaned over Jack's crib, her voice a low, mocking whisper. "Think of this as a second chance, boys. A chance to learn respect, empathy, and humility. Traits you clearly lack."

Mike's eyes filled with tears of frustration and shame. "You can't do this to us," he said, his voice trembling. "We didn't agree to any of this."

Sarah's roommate, the one who had cooed at them earlier, patted Mike's head patronizingly. "Oh, but you did agree, the moment you stepped into this house. And now, you're ours to care for and mold into better people."

Jack clenched his fists, his anger bubbling beneath the surface. But he was powerless, trapped in a diaper, surrounded by women who held all the control.

Professor Collins straightened up, addressing the group. "Sarah, let's make sure our new 'babies' are comfortable. We'll begin their first lessons in the morning."

The girls nodded eagerly, each taking a turn to coo and tease the boys. "Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it," one of them said. "And who knows, you might even start to like it."

As the reality of their situation settled in, Jack and Mike felt a profound sense of defeat. They were no longer the cocky frat boys who had strutted into the party, thinking they could conquer anything. They were now just two scared, humiliated boys in diapers, facing an uncertain future in the hands of those they had once looked down upon.

Professor Collins turned to leave, her final words lingering in the air. "Goodnight, boys. Sweet dreams. Tomorrow, your real education begins."

The door closed behind her, leaving Jack and Mike in the oversized cribs, their minds racing with fear and confusion. They could hear the soft hum of a lullaby playing from a speaker in the corner, adding an eerie touch to the surreal nursery setting.

Sarah leaned over Jack’s crib one last time, her expression softening slightly. "You brought this on yourselves, you know. Maybe after this, you'll learn to treat people with respect."

With that, she turned off the lights, plunging the room into a soothing darkness, illuminated only by the soft glow of a nightlight. The boys lay there, their thoughts a chaotic mess, knowing that their lives had irrevocably changed.

As the lullaby played on, they realized there was no escaping this new reality. They were now the subjects of an experiment designed to reshape their very identities, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

"I wanna see how many presents are under the Christmas tree." Apple exclaimed as she and Daddy entered the living room.

"Mmm I'd rather see what's under your dress little one." Her dominant other half purred behind her, lovingly caressing her with a firm broad hand. There was a telltale crinkling noise.

"Daddy." Apple frowned. She really was excited to count the presents, she didn't want her partner to get distracted but she decided to oblige him and gather up the ruffled hem of dress so that he could see her diaper.

He was always her dom and she was always his sub, (and indeed often in ageplay space as evidenced by teddy bear she had brought with her from the bedroom) but she had grown so used to wearing diapers 24/7 for him that sometimes she forgot about them completely. As a coy yet flirtatious smile spread across her lips, she felt a rekindling of excited humilation at being reminded she was her Daddy's Little Girl.

"Good girl. Tell Daddy what you are wearing princess."

"A dress." she responded quickly. She always attempted to divert the question if was feeling 'Big' rather than little but it usually just took a little persitance to push her into Littlespace.

"Baby." Daddy asked again, in a slightly scolding tone that suggested that she ought to know better than to defy him.

"It's a diaper, Daddy." she responded meeking.

"Who's diaper?“

"My diapee." she figitted with her skirt.

"And why do you wear diapers? "

"Cos I'm a baby." she blushed and clutched her teddy to her.

Daddy smiled, satisfied to watch Apple on the edge of tipping into Littlespace. He loved catching her at this moment, in which she was submissive but also still acutely aware of how humilating infantile she was acting for him.

"Suck your thumb like a good baby." he commanded. She dropped the hem of her dress to raise her thumbs to her lips. "Ah, ah, Daddy still wants to see that diaper." he told her, and so she lifted her skirt again and brought her other hand into her mouth.

"Can you wet your diaper like a good baby?“ he asked her," then I'll let you count the presents under the tree."

Unable to speak while she was sucking on her thumb, she nodded obediently and broke eye contact whilst she focused on relaxing her bladder. Soon she felt her diaper growing warm and wet as she began peeing and she quivered with excitement at the thought of being made to exhibition herself like this.

"That's a good baby." Daddy praised her as he watched her diaper swell and discolour. "A little baby like you ought to be sitting on the floor." he suggested.

Apple sat down and couldn't help but feel anything but babyish as her still warm diaper squished beneath her bum. Her little dress was not so long that Daddy didn't catch glimpses of her diaper as she shifted on the fluffy rug.

Daddy fished an adult pacifer from his pocket and held it in front of her mouth for her to take. He gently traced the line of her jaw as he did so and tickled the lobe of her ear before he stood up. She made cute lip smacking sounds once her pacifer was being suckled. She was obviously deep in Littlespace by this point because she was staring at the Christmas tree, bewitched by the twinkling lights and bright baubles. Daddy wondered if she remembered that she had wanted to count the presents. He would reminded her when she resurfaced from Littlespace, of course he expected to be changing her out of a very wet diaper by that time, her potty training went completely out of the window when she was feeling this tiny. He suspected it would be wise to put her in stuffed double diapers when it came to the excitement of finally getting to open her presents on Christmas day.

...

Images from @abdreams

Inspiration from @littlekittengirliepie

HAPPY HOLIDAYS!

"Wait, you want me to do what?"

Your hands were trembling, your breath catching in your lungs. What an idiot. What an absolute idiot you'd been! Here you were, on this nice weekend getaway with this amazing girl you'd only met two months before. Everything was going along swimmingly. You'd just had a great meal at a restaurant a few blocks away. You'd laughed your way back to the hotel, and you'd cuddled, and things had begun to get steamy…

And then you'd done it. "Hey, are you, like, into any kinds of… you know… kinky stuff?"

Oh, she'd giggled at that. "What, like getting tied up and shit?" She'd tossed her blonde hair and shrugged. "I mean, I guess? Wait… what about you? Are you saying you wanna get kinky tonight, babe?"

God, if she'd only known how apropos that last word was. But then you'd blurted it out before you'd thought – before you'd had a chance to chicken out. "I mean… yeah. I'm kinda- I, you know… I dunno, but… I guess I really think it would be hot if… if you wore a diaper."

She stared at you with the most indescribable expression, and you could feel yourself shriveling up, collapsing down into a little ball of shame and fear under her gaze. "I- I- heh, heh- just… just joking, you kno-" you faltered desperately. Chuckle. Ease the tension. Anything, please-

But she cut you off with a laugh. "Wait, really? No, no. Don't kid me, dude. You were actually serious, weren't you?" And under her searching blue eyes… well, what could you do but nod?

Though the next words weren't anything like what you'd expected to hear next.

"Oh, praise be! You know, at first I thought you might be into some really messed-up shit: you know, knives and chains and all." You spluttered, eyes wide as she bounced merrily on the bed. "I mean, sure! You got one handy?"

"Wha- wait, but- but, really?!" You were aghast, feeling desperately the need to pinch yourself to snap out of this fever dream. She couldn't be serious. Diapers were taboo. They were fucked up, weird, deviant, idiotic-

"Bro, relax!" she smiled now, and then she was slipping her hand reassuringly onto your tight-drawn shoulders. "Listen, it's okay! I mean, sure – I dunno that I've ever worn a diaper before-" and here she chuckled wryly. "At least not since I was a kid! But heck, I dunno. I think it sounds kinda cute." You breathed, and realized then that you'd been holding your breath for who knows how many minutes. She… she was really okay with it?

"Really?" You quavered, and she shrugged and nodded, her blue eyes locking with your own. "Dude, relax! Of course! It's not like you're asking me to expose myself, or make out with four other guys, or, I dunno, drink your piss or something. Like, it's just a diaper, right? Big deal. We've all worn one before, and I bet we'll all wear one again before we're dead and gone."

She giggled once more and let one hand slip playfully down to your jean-clad crotch. "Hang on, lemme see if you were really serious. Think about me now, babe. Think about seeing me laying here on the bed without any pants on. I'll be laying here just like a cute baby girl, with a crinkly 'ol diaper on instead of panties. Sounds like you'd like that, huh?"

The straining pressure in your crotch provided all the answer she needed.

"Well, then, buddy – I think you'd better get busy!" she tittered once more. "Come on. I don't suppose you'd happen to have one in your suitcase already, would you?"

Somehow, you did.

And once you'd tremblingly taped your laughing companion into the garment of your dreams, she lolled playfully onto the bed, toying with her long blonde hair and gazing over with merry eyes. "Hey, there! Like what you see, babe?" She wriggled her crinkling rear provocatively and dropped her eyes to your ill-concealed – and increasingly painful – hard-on. "Oh, my! I don't suppose you'd care to give a little baby like me a taste, hmm? I may be pretty big for a baby, but I still really like sucking on things…"

Good god. Maybe you were dreaming. Maybe not. But whatever the case, you mused as you tugged desperately at your jeans and pre-cum stained underwear… whatever the case, you didn't ever want this to end.

Image Credit: DiaperGal.com

Please don't remove my caption or accreditation, okay? Oh, and check out my Patreon here if you want to read more of my short stories!

MISTRESS MAY EYE  Day 29:

Tales of power, mindlessness, obedience, peace and so much more about the choices we make, ones that transform our lives in unforeseen ways.

“SEPERATION ANXIETY”

“Yes, dear. You heard me right.” The counselor’s words were quiet, firm, as cool and uncompromising as granite. “You’re here with me now for as long as we need you. As long as it takes. As many weeks and months as the program requires until we’ve met our goal.”

Wide eyes filled with questioning her choices and terror.

Lots of panic. She had definitely not been ready for this. Her fantasies had gotten hold of her and now were the consequences.

 A stifled whimper. The pacifier in her mouth.

The straightjacket snug around chest, pinning her arms.

 A desperate shaking of the head. 

All these spoke volumes, screaming out in a way that the young woman’s pacifier-swollen mouth never could. She wanted out. She had to escape. She didn’t want to do this anymore.

It was a fantasy. This was too real.

“And you see, it’s not so easy to back out now,” the counselor went on, almost as if the hapless patient shivering before her had found a way to voice her frightened protests. “All the forms have been signed. All the proper human subject paperwork, and monitoring and consent forms, and waivers of liability and non-disclosure – they’re all signed and sealed and notarized. You know this. You’re our test subject here, of your own free will. You’re receiving generous compensation, and 24/7 housing and food and medical care, all in the comfort of this comfortable apartment we’ve provided. You’re supported entirely by the program – and with that level of investment, we simply can’t allow any sudden changes of heart.”

Shame crept into those eyes as they lowered to the ground. The counselor words were true, and Amelia knew it. 

She’d signed ever so many forms: so eager, so willing to do anything to secure that incredibly generous pay…

To give into her fantasies and become fabulously wealthy in the process! It had been too much temptation for her.

“So lest you have any more doubts about how this program will proceed,” the counselor  resumed, lifting the patient’s head in her hands and gazing coolly into her quailing eyes, “Let me be absolutely clear about what you’re likely to experience these next few weeks and months. Perhaps you won’t like what you hear. That is fine. You don’t need to like it. You just need to listen and understand that this is what will happen. You will Obey. You signed away any choice to resist.”

The Counselor cleared her throat and continued. “You already know our project: to explore the benefits and limits of regression, play, and other non-standard methods of therapy on the individual. You have already had stressors from your adult life removed: communications devices, work obligations, social relations, clothing, and even toileting needs. Your mobility and your dexterity have been limited. You are being transitioned to a high-nutrient, low-stress diet even now. Your instinctual behaviors of suckling, crawling, and playing are being encouraged, and your speech and motor skills are being inhibited. Your sleep cycle is being shifted to that of a young child, with further alterations dependent on your progress…”

Seeing the confused questioning in those eyes, a frightened child, the counselor went on, a subtle smile playing on her lips. “In practical terms, you will simply become diaper dependent. You already are for our purposes, of course – but thanks to our conditioning you are likely to lose significant, perhaps even total control. Your meals will be fed to you regularly as liquids or soft solids, typically in bottle form. Your main activities will limit as much as possible your need to use cognitive abilities; you will play, crawl, and toddle at most, sleeping frequently and at intervals we define. Your life will essentially revolve around eating, drinking, soiling, and sleeping. Your mind will gradually empty and quieten as we remove stressors from it and eliminate your need to process language or use higher-level cognitive faculties. And by the end of the program, I suspect your life will have become a soft blur of napping, and drinking, and soiling, and allowing your counselors to care for you. You’ll be lying there, gazing out with those pretty, wide eyes at a world you no longer understand…And it will make you happy.”

“Then, and only then, will we have reached our goal: of complete regression and a return to stress-free, instinctual life. You, my dear, will be the first to reach this goal – I know it.I have the utmost faith in you.” 

And then the counselor smiled at last, a true, broad smile full but somehow still Mr. Grinch type sinister undertones.

In the recoiling face of her aghast listener. “You have no choice. You agreed to this, after all. You will be a very rich little baby. One that will need to be cared for. And we will be there every day, every step, as you grow up to be our little girl.”

“Your new life, separating your old life to the new can be quite anxious. Its a little bit scary and a lot of bit exciting. I think I love it! and you will too.”

modified from paddedlittleparadise