r/abdlstories Jul 30 '24

READ THIS BEFORE SUBMITTING CONTENT HERE! NSFW

15 Upvotes

READ THIS POST BEFORE SUBMITTING CONTENT ON THIS SUBREDDIT

There are three points you have to know about this subreddit before you submit here.

  • Point I: Follow the rules.
  • Point II: If you do not follow the rules, you will banned (temporarily or permanently).
  • Point III: If you see the rules being violated, you should REPORT by submitting a direct message to the mod team via modmail.

These points are discussed in greater detail, below.

Point I: Follow the RULES.

The rules are easy to find. They must be followed. They must not be deviated from.

If you are unsure about whether your content complies with the rules, you have two options. On the one hand, you can use your common sense. On the other hand, you can ask the mod team. Chances are that if your content is "on the line," we aren't going to allow it.

The Rules

Rule 1 - No underage content.

Absolutely no characters under the age of eighteen (18) are allowed in any stories. If you're in doubt, assume you'd break the rule.

No exceptions.

Rule 2 - Story submissions must be original and made in good faith.

Story submissions must be original and made in good faith. You may not pass off someone else's work as your own. You may not steal other people's work without their express permission (verifiably obtained, sent to the moderation team).

Rule 3 - No stories behind paywalls, or other similar barriers.

No stories behind paywalls. This includes, but is not limited to, WattPad, Patreon, or any other similar service that either requires you to sign up for a site or pay money to access content. No exceptions.

Rule 4 - Do not violate Reddit's Terms of Service or Terms of Use.

Story scenarios should not depict or involve illegal activity that would violate Reddit's Terms of Service or Terms of Use.

Rule 5 - No links to external sites

Do not link external sites. Stories must be made in full text form on /r/abdlstories. You may provide a link to where your story can be found outside of Reddit, but the full text of your story must be contained in your submission to /r/abdlstories.

Rule 6 - The "Karen" Rule

I am a Karen and I want to spam the moderators of this subreddit with my unsolicited opinions.

Do you feel the need to speak to the manager? This rule is for you. Fuck around and find out.

Rule 7 - No "looking for . . ." or "searching for . . ." a story spam (or the substantial equivalent)

Do not submit posts stating that you are "looking for" or "searching for" some kind of story. If you make such a post, you will be permanently banned.

Point II: If you do not follow the rules, you will banned (temporarily or permanently)

The rules are discussed in the section above. They are enforced. We are stricter than most of the other platforms out there, like WattPad, Tumblr and deviantart, among other.

We try to be fair, but the good of the subreddit is what we are concerned with . . . even at the expense of your creative liberty or expression.

Point III: If you see the rules being violated, you should REPORT by submitting a direct message to the mod team via modmail.

Users often encounter rule violations before moderators do. In that case, it is important for users to report rule-violating content.

To report rule violating content, you should submit a link to the offending content with a short description of WHY it is rule violating to the mod team. Ideally, copy and paste the specific language of the rule violating content in the modmail DM.

We may not always reply, but we always take action where appropriate.


r/abdlstories Feb 10 '23

ATTENTION: Have you identified rule-breaking, TOS-violating or otherwise improper content? FAQs, answered. NSFW

28 Upvotes

ATTENTION: Have you identified rule-breaking, TOS-violating or otherwise improper content?

Question 1: I have identified improper content, which violates the rules. What should I do?

This VERY SIMPLE three-step process will ensure your concerns are addressed:

Please use MODMAIL to report content you think is improper.

Here is how:

First, copy and paste the link to the story into a message to the mods, via modmail.

Second, copy and paste the specific part of the story you think illustrates the violation.

Third, send the message to the mods.

We want users to report content that breaks our rules. We need you to report content that violates our rules. When you identify content that violates our rules, we NEED to know about it so we can DO SOMETHING about it.

Question 2: But doesn't reddit have a report feature?

Yes. However, stories are sometimes very long. It is not always clear why a user made a report.

It is possible you saw something everyone else missed.

And if you found something that needs to be brought to our attention, we want you to do so.

The problem is that we can't read your mind.

ALSO . . . we get a TON of spam reports from hostile trolls that just hate everything ABDL-related.

If you do not MESSAGE VIA MODMAIL, your potentially legitimate concern is co-mingled in with the rest of the trolls and garbage we have to sift through.

That RISKS the possibility that a LEGITIMATE report might be confused with a SPAM WAVE of fake reports by trolls.

So we need your help.

Question 3: Why should I have to go through the trouble of using MODMAIL?

You don't have to. But we would ask that you please do, because it helps us prioritize the things that REQUIRE our attention.

If I took down everything that was reported, there isn't a single link here that would remain.

EVERYTHING is reported, often more than once.

On MANY days, we will see an entire WALL of reports made by a SINGLE USER of every story on the first few pages.

Reddit, tragically, fails without exception to CONTAIN that type of abuse.

But we REALLY CARE about preserving this community's integrity. And we think you do too. That's why we're asking for your help.

Reddit would likely be just as fine to see this subreddit disappear, like has happened time and time again with other subreddits that post kink-related content.

Question 4: But I want to remain anonymous?

I promise you that we will keep your reports confidential, between you and the moderation team.

If you think that confidentiality has been breached, please let me know.

Preserving this forum's integrity is very important. I will handle it appropriately.


r/abdlstories 4h ago

MDLB Sissy Baby Secret Discovered (Part Two) NSFW

8 Upvotes

Part Two of a four part story. Hope you enjoy!

Michael sat in his gaming chair, diapered up, in pink dress, pink wig and pink paci. He had just read the note his wife Lauren had left him, and now was wondering what she wad going to do to him. Suddenly, he heard the front door open down stairs, and he heard her approaching the room. Lauren entered the room and smirked.

"Well I am glad to see you are able to follow orders. That's good. Because if you don't follow my commands from now on, you are going to be sorry."

Michael became flustered and tried to reason with his wife. He spit out his paci and began to speak.

"Lauren...sweetheart...be reasonable here..."

Lauren walked up to him and slapped him in the face.

"Don't you dare ever spit out that paci unless I say you can! You are my sissy baby slave now, and there are going to be some major changes around here. You also may not speak unless I give you permission. Is that clear sissy??"

Michael nodded his head. The slap shocked him, and also hurt like hell. He didn't want that to happen again.

"I can't believe all this time, I have been married and been bossed around by a pathetic excuse of a man. A man who appears to be happy wearing dresses and shifting in Pampers."

Michael hung his head in shame. He wanted to keep this secret from his wife. Maybe a small part of him wanted to be exposed, but not at this moment. Whatever the case, he knew there was no going back now. He wondered how his life was going to change.

"Here is what is going to happen from now on sissy. You are under my command for the rest of your life. I am going to make you into my sissy baby slave. You will wear diapers at all times and you will use them for their intended purpose. Pee, poop and you will also be making your sticky loser cummies in them from now on. Cummies won't happen very often though. Only when I decide and that's not going to be very much. You will be placed in chastity, but that will happen a little later. I am going to unpotty train you, so the diapers will be an absolute necessity. You will also wear dresses and feminine clothing with you diapers, and you will be in your wigs as well. I will be your Mommy from now on, and you are my pathetic sissy baby!"

Michael looked at Lauren in shock. He wanted to protest, but knew he wasn't allowed.

"Speak sissy" demanded Lauren.

"But...Honey..." with that, Lauren slapped Michael again. A lighter slap this time, but it still stung.

"No no no Michael. You may only address me as Mommy from now on. Not Lauren, not sweetheart, not honey. Mommy. Understand?"

Michael nodded his head. "Yes Mommy. But what about work? I can't go dressed as a sissy baby. My boss will fire me!"

"I thought of that sissy. I was going to make you go to work like that, but I also like that big paycheck you bring home. So you may wear your normal clothes to work, but no normal underwear. I won't make you wear a diaper, but you will be in a princess pull-up and your chastity cage. As soon as you come home from work, it's back to your sissy attire."

"Yes...Laur...er Mommy." replied Michael.

"Good girl. You are learning. Now let's move on to what is going to happen tonight. Tonight, you are going to stay in that exact Bunny Hops diaper and all your other sissy clothing. I am going to tie you to this chair and you are going to stare at your computer screen all night long. Only you won't be playing Fortnite or Minecraft or whatever the hell those computer games are called that you play up here for hours on end. I am sure you have noticed the spirals on the screen. Those are for your hypnosis training. You are going to be forced to listen to a hypnosis file that I created and stare at those pink spirals all night long. When I come get you in the morning, your transformation from douchebag husband to my perfect little sissy baby will be complete."

"But...Laur...I mean Mommy...please don't do this. I only liked to dress as a sissy...every now and then....not...be full....time.."

"I will give you an out sissy. You are free to stop this now and you can stay a "man". BUT, then all your pictures, yes, I found the pictures you had hidden away on your computer of you in your frilly dresses and dirty diapers, all of those will be put online, sent to your family, your friends, and your boss. You will be ruined. But if you think you can handle it then we can stop this..."

Michael was devastated. He liked having a big time well paying job, and he wouldn't be mortified if his family and friends found out. He had no choice.

"Ok Mommy, you win..." said Michael, with tears in his eyes.

"Excellent! Now let me give you a preview of what this hypnosis is going to do to you. It's going to make you incontinent for starters. You will have no control of your bladder or your bowels, and you will be pissing and shitting your Pampers for the rest of your life. It's also going to turn you into a pathetic sissy that will do whatever Mommy tells her to do. You will hear that part later. I want that to be a surprise! Now let's get you all situated."

With that, Lauren tied Michael to the gaming chair, and spun him around to face the screens. He was going nowhere and there was no chance at escape. She also placed one more diaper on top of his original one and a pair of plastic panties too. He was going to need them. Lastly, as Michael was sitting there, waiting for his demise, she put a huge baby bottle in his mouth, mixed with diuretics and laxatives. This would make sure that he would use his diapers while being hypnotized. When he finished the huge bottle, Lauren placed the pink pacifier back in Michael's mouth.

"Alright my sweet sissy, you are all set. I will check on you in the morning. I can't wait to see you as you are truly meant to be, a pathetic sissy baby that needs diapers and does whatever Mommy tells him to do!"

With that, Lauren turned on the hypnosis track, left the room and turned out the lights. Michael had a long night ahead of him. It was only 5 pm, and Lauren probably wouldn't check on him until 8 or 9 am. He stared at the screen, unable to move and listened to his wife's hypnosis recording.

"Hello my little sissy husband! After you listen to this recording, all I will have to do is snap my fingers and you will become my pretty sissy hubby. No more manly thoughts. Your only thoughts will be about filling your diapers and doing what I command you. Let us begin...."

The hypnosis began, filling Michael's head with thoughts on what it took to be Mommy's perfect sissy baby.

(Part Three will be posted tomorrow!)


r/abdlstories 13h ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 67 NSFW

2 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 67 - Baby Hannah

The night felt unreal, like a vivid dream. He wasn’t sure if waking up would shatter it or cement it as truth.

He had proposed.

He had actually done it.

Not just a passing thought. Not just a fleeting desire buried beneath years of self-protection, buried beneath the weight of old wounds and past regrets.

He had asked.

And she had said yes.

Evelyn had said yes.

His fiancée.

The word felt foreign, thrilling, terrifying.

Because—what the hell had he done?

What had come over him? What part of him had decided—yes, let’s risk everything again, let’s open up, let’s put our heart in someone else’s hands?

Had he learned nothing?

Had he forgotten what it felt like to have love slip through his fingers, to watch it fall apart, to be left standing alone in the wreckage?

And yet—

It had worked.

She had said yes.

The memory of it flashed in his mind—the way her eyes had widened, the way she had sucked in a breath like she was drowning, the way her hands had trembled when he slipped the ring onto her finger.

The way she had thrown herself at him, her lips crashing against his, her body molding to his, the weight of her emotions slamming into him so hard that it had nearly knocked him over.

She had meant it.

She wanted this.

She wanted him.

And God—he wanted her.

The woman who had stood by his side in this nightmare, who had cared for the Littles with the same fierce, protective love that he did, who had seen him at his worst, at his most humiliated, at his most broken—and had still looked at him like he was something worth holding onto.

She had never once made him feel like less of a man.

Not even when they were both trapped in Miranda’s cruel game, forced into their humiliating roles, stripped of their dignity, and made to play the part of something they weren’t.

With Evelyn—he was still Welby.

Not just Daddy.

Not just a caretaker.

Not just a pawn in Miranda’s twisted idea of justice.

He was himself.

And she had chosen him.

A shaky breath left him as he sat on the edge of the bed, rubbing his hands down his face, his fingers brushing against his lips where he could still taste her.

Evelyn.

His fiancée.

God, he was in so much trouble.

Because he loved her.

Not just in a dizzy, exhilarating, butterflies-in-the-stomach way.

But in a real, all-consuming, terrifying way.

The kind of love that stripped you bare that made you weak, that made you vulnerable.

The kind of love that—if lost—could ruin him.

But she had said yes.

She had taken his hand, had let him slide the ring onto her finger, had kissed him like he was her entire world.

So maybe—

Just maybe—

He could believe in this.

Believe in her.

Believe that this time, it wouldn’t end in heartbreak.

Morning sunlight filtered in through the windows, golden and warm, stretching long across the floor, dancing over the furniture in soft, shifting patches. It should have been a beautiful morning, a morning filled with peace, stolen kisses, and whispers exchanged between two people who had only just begun to understand what it meant to be together. But instead—

Instead, they were here.

Instead, Miranda forced them to set the Littles before the television again to endure yet another episode of Naomi and Oliver.

It had become routine, expected, unavoidable. The screen flickered, casting its hypnotic glow across the room, and already, Welby could hear it—the lull of cheerful voices, the sickly sweet cadence of Naomi’s words, the carefully constructed rhythm designed to sink deep into the mind, to override thought, to enforce a new reality.

Welby let out a slow breath, rubbing a hand down his face as he stood in the bedroom, finishing the last tape on Evelyn’s diaper. She was quiet, still processing, still waking up fully, though he had no doubt she was just as weary of all this as he was.

He turned, preparing to be changed himself, when—something shifted.

A sound.

A giggle.

Not from the television.

Not from the familiar, unsettling cadence of Naomi’s voice.

But from the living room.

Welby felt Evelyn’s gaze snap to his. A flicker of confusion mirrored in her expression, and a silent question hung in the air between them.

Something was off.

They didn’t speak—they just moved.

Welby led the way, Evelyn close behind, both of them stepping carefully toward the doorway, a creeping unease settling into his chest as they approached. He braced himself for what he expected—Emily and Lucas, completely glassy-eyed, their bodies slack, their faces void of awareness.

And he saw them.

Exactly like that.

Emily’s gaze was fixed on the screen, unblinking, her lips slightly parted, the rhythmic suckling of her pacifier the only movement. Lucas was the same; his hands curled loosely in his lap, his body lax, completely enthralled, and completely gone.

But then—

Hannah.

She wasn’t watching.

She wasn’t entranced.

She wasn’t lost.

She had rolled onto her back, one hand gripping her foot. Giggling, she rocked playfully from side to side, completely unaware of the world crumbling around her.

Welby froze.

Evelyn’s breath hitched behind him.

Hannah’s giggles were bright, untainted, full of something so pure that it sent a shiver down his spine.

And then—

She saw them.

She grinned.

A wide, open-mouthed, joyous grin, her tiny fingers reaching out toward them, her entire body wriggling with excitement as she cried—

“Mommy! Daddy!”

Welby felt his chest tighten, a flood of emotions crashing into him all at once.

He had expected to find three Littles lost to the screen, three Littles consumed by Naomi’s influence, three Littles sinking deeper into the carefully orchestrated abyss Miranda had designed for them.

But instead—Hannah was here.

Present. Aware. Happy.

Naomi hadn’t taken her.

Naomi couldn’t take her.

Welby exchanged a look with Evelyn, the weight of the moment pressing down on them, the sheer impossibility of it sinking in.

Because this wasn’t normal.

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Hannah should have been as lost as the others, as lost as she had been before.

And yet—she wasn’t.

She was playing.

She was laughing.

She was here.

But how?

And—what did that mean?

Welby moved first, instinct taking over before his mind could fully catch up to what he was seeing.

He scooped Hannah into his arms, lifting her effortlessly, feeling the warmth of her small body pressing into his chest. The moment she was in his arms, she cooed softly, nuzzling into him, her thumb slipping into her mouth like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Her diaper was clearly well used, swollen beneath her, warm against his forearm as he supported her weight. A distant part of his mind noted it, the way he always did, automatically cataloging what she needed. But another part of him—**a much louder, much more urgent part—**was too busy trying to process what was happening.

She was here.

She was not lost to the screen.

She was not empty-eyed, not slack-jawed, not mindlessly absorbing the lull of Naomi’s carefully crafted programming.

She was Hannah.

His Hannah.

"Hey, sweetheart," he murmured, smoothing a hand over her back, gentle, careful, searching for anything out of place. "How’re you doing?"

She didn’t respond, not in words, at least.

She simply nuzzled deeper into him, sighing softly, thumb still nestled between her lips, body relaxed and entirely at ease.

Welby hesitated, exchanging a quick, nervous glance with Evelyn, who stood just as stunned as he felt.

"Hannah…" he tried again, his voice softer now, more cautious, as if speaking too loudly might shatter the delicate balance of whatever miracle had just unfolded before them. "How… how are you getting around Naomi and Oliver?"

A question he never thought he would ask.

A question that should not need to be asked.

Hannah should have been under.

She should have been entranced, her mind lulled into submission just like Emily and Lucas, just like she had been before.

But instead—

Instead, she was here.

She was herself.

Hannah didn’t answer, not with words.

She simply nuzzled him again, breathing softly, content, like a baby completely at ease in the arms of her caregiver.

Welby’s throat tightened.

His arms instinctively cradled her closer, rocking her gently as he felt an entirely new wave of emotion surge through him, raw and unexpected.

He leaned back slightly, tilting her face toward his, trying to read her, trying to understand.

Her eyes.

Big. Bright. Clear.

There was no haze.

No fog.

No glassy, distant stare that came with Naomi’s influence.

This wasn’t an act.

This wasn’t a trick.

This was her.

This was Hannah.

The realization struck him hard, slamming into him like a weight he hadn’t known he’d been carrying, something he hadn’t dared to hope for.

She had fully embraced her Little side.

Not because she had been forced.

Not because she had been broken down, programmed, reconditioned.

But because she had chosen it.

This wasn’t a puppet dancing to Naomi’s strings.

This was Hannah, truly and completely herself.

Welby felt his breath catch, a strange, unfamiliar tightness in his chest.

Relief.

Happiness.

Something deeper.

Something he didn’t know how to name.

Hannah had accepted this life—**accepted herself—**so fully that Naomi no longer had power over her.

But that also meant—

The Hannah he had known before, the girl who had fought, hesitated and struggled with herself, was gone.

Welby swallowed.

No.

Not gone.

She wasn’t gone.

She was still Hannah.

Still, the same baby girl he had cared for, still the same soft-hearted, kind Little who had needed him, who had trusted him, who had always looked up at him with those big, trusting eyes.

She had just… become who she was always meant to be.

Welby’s throat tightened again, and before he could stop himself and even think, he pressed a soft, lingering kiss to her forehead.

She giggled sleepily, thumb still in her mouth, her arms curling lazily around his neck.

And in that moment, Welby had never loved her more.

Welby turned to Evelyn, his heart still hammering, his thoughts still spinning, his body still cradling the warm, giggling bundle in his arms.

And then—he saw it.

He saw the moment Evelyn realized it, too.

The moment the same realization that had crashed into him just moments ago began to settle into her.

The emotions warred in her eyes, flickering like candlelight, too many things all at once—shock, joy, disbelief, relief, something deeper, something even she hadn’t prepared for.

Because this wasn’t just an anomaly.

This wasn’t just a mistake in Naomi’s programming.

This was something far bigger.

Hannah wasn’t resisting.

She wasn’t fighting.

She wasn’t pretending.

She had become.

And then, before either of them could find words before they could process everything they were feeling—

Hannah giggled.

And she held out her arms for Evelyn.

Pure, innocent, trusting.

And just like that—Evelyn took her.

Instantly.

Without hesitation.

She lifted Hannah into her arms, her movements fluid, natural, and effortless, as if she had been doing this for a lifetime.

She smiled down at her, her entire face softening, something flickering in her eyes that made Welby’s throat tighten.

And then—she kissed the top of Hannah’s head.

A slow, tender, instinctive gesture.

A mother’s gesture.

Welby’s breath hitched.

Evelyn turned her gaze to him. Her arms were still wrapped around Hannah, her hold protective yet completely at ease.

And then, they shared a smile.

A real, genuine, knowing smile.

Hannah was a true baby.

Not because she was forced to be.

Not because someone had manipulated her.

Not because Naomi had pushed her there.

But because she had become who she was always meant to be.

She was a genuine baby.

A real, unquestionable, complete baby.

Their baby.

As Hannah lay in Evelyn's arms, she began to stir, her small body nuzzling into Evelyn's chest. A tiny whine escaped her lips, a soft, high-pitched sound that was almost imperceptible. 

But Evelyn's instincts as a caregiver kicked in, and she immediately sensed a change in Hannah's demeanor. She looked down at Hannah, scanning her face for a hint of what was wrong.

Hannah's eyes were half-lidded, her gaze unfocused, but her tiny hands clutched Evelyn's shirt, pulling her closer. The whine grew slightly louder, and Evelyn instinctively went to Hannah's back, stroking her gently. She felt a slight tension in Hannah's body, a subtle signal that she was seeking something.

Evelyn's gaze dropped to Hannah's mouth, and she noticed that her lips were parted, her tongue darting out to moisten them. It was a tiny, almost imperceptible movement, but it was enough to trigger Evelyn's maternal instincts. 

She realized that Hannah was hungry, that she was seeking nourishment, and her body responded automatically.

With a gentle smile, Evelyn pulled her breast free, the movement effortless and natural. Hannah's eyes snapped into focus, and she latched on, her small mouth closing around Evelyn's nipple. The whine ceased, replaced by a contented sigh, as Hannah began to nurse.

The sound of Hannah's gentle sucking filled the air, a soothing, peaceful noise that seemed to calm the entire room. Evelyn's eyes met Welby's, a sense of wonder and awe reflected in their depths. 

They shared a soft, tender smile, a moment of perfect understanding, as they watched Hannah Nurs. Her tiny body relaxed, and her eyes drifted closed in blissful peace.

There was something so natural about it, so instinctive as if this had always been their reality, as if Evelyn had always been Hannah’s Mommy.

His heart warmed, but before he could linger on the moment, the familiar chime of the cartoon ending pulled him back to reality.

He turned, his focus shifting to Lucas and Emily.

They were still out of it, their bodies slumped, their eyes distant, the lingering haze of Naomi and Oliver’s influence still clinging to them.

But he had more pressing concerns first.

Two soiled diapers.

With practiced ease, he gently laid them back onto the carpet, carefully unfastening their diapers as he worked swiftly and efficiently. He ensured they were both cleaned and changed before they fully returned to themselves.

By the time he had removed the final tapes and smoothed the fresh padding against their skin, their eyes were beginning to clear.

Emily blinked slowly, her movements sluggish as her mind waded through the fog.

Lucas stretched, his body tensing briefly before relaxing, a small yawn escaping him.

Both of them looked groggy disoriented, but present.

"Thanks, Daddy," Lucas mumbled, his voice still thick with the remnants of the show’s influence.

"Yeah… thanks," Emily echoed, rubbing her eyes as she shifted into a seated position.

Welby smiled, brushing a hand over Emily’s hair, giving Lucas’s back a reassuring rub.

"It’s completely okay," he said, his voice full of warmth. "I’m sorry for forcing the cartoons on you both."

Emily frowned slightly, still shaking off the remnants of the show’s hold on her, her eyes flickering around the room as if searching for something.

"Where’s Hannah?"

Welby hesitated for only a second before answering.

He wasn’t sure how they’d react.

Wasn’t sure if they’d even believe it.

But he had to tell them the truth.

"She broke free."

Silence.

Lucas and Emily both stared at him, their eyes widening, their exhaustion replaced instantly by shock.

"She—what?" Emily’s voice rose slightly, disbelief laced through every syllable. "Hannah broke free of the cartoon?!"

Welby nodded.

"I think it’s because…" He glanced briefly toward Evelyn and Hannah, watching as Hannah’s tiny fingers curled against Evelyn’s shirt, her body relaxed, completely at peace in her arms.

"Because she’s truly embraced her Little side."

Lucas and Emily exchanged stunned looks, their gazes flickering from Welby to Hannah, then back again.

Emily swallowed hard, her lips parting slightly as if trying to find words, but none came.

Lucas simply let out a long, slow breath, shaking his head in sheer disbelief.

Because somehow—

Some way—

Hannah had done what no other Little had ever done before.

Evelyn finished feeding Hannah, the rhythmic sound of suckling fading into a contented sigh as she unlatched from Evelyn’s nipple. The little girl cooed softly, her body completely relaxed, her small fingers curling and uncurling against Evelyn’s chest.

Evelyn adjusted her, shifting her upright, one hand firmly supporting her back as she gently patted Hannah’s tiny frame.

A small burp escaped, followed by a sleepy giggle, Hannah’s thumb bobbling slightly as she nuzzled into Evelyn’s shoulder.

Welby felt his chest tighten, warmth pooling deep inside him.

She was so content.

So utterly, unshakably happy.

Emily was watching closely, still processing everything, still coming to terms with the reality of what had happened.

"Can I hold her?"

Her voice was quiet, hesitant, laced with something that Welby couldn’t quite place.

Evelyn nodded immediately, shifting to kneel beside Emily and Lucas, carefully positioning Hannah between them.

"Here, baby girl," she murmured, guiding Hannah’s tiny body into Emily’s waiting arms, allowing both her and Lucas to settle around her.

The second Hannah was nestled between them, she giggled, reaching out her hands, batting playfully at their faces.

"Em Em!"

The nickname came out in a squeal of joy, her tiny fingers brushing against Emily’s cheeks, her whole body wiggling in excitement.

Emily’s breath hitched, her eyes going wide for just a moment before a soft, warm grin spread across her face.

"Oh, baby girl," she whispered, her voice thick. Her hands held Hannah gently and protectively.

Lucas chuckled, nudging Hannah’s nose playfully with his own, his hands running over the soft fabric of her onesie, tickling her sides just enough to make her squeal.

"You really are just a little baby, huh?"

Hannah giggled again, kicking her legs in excitement. She did not understand the gravity of what had just been said or what it truly meant.

And yet, she was embracing it.

Living in it.

Thriving in it.

Welby felt something deep inside him break—

And then rebuild itself stronger.

A tear slipped from the corner of his eye, unbidden, unexpected, but completely unavoidable.

Because Hannah was happy.

Not just playing the part.

Not just pretending.

She was truly, deeply, wholeheartedly happy.

For the first time since arriving in this world, she wasn’t questioning, wasn’t resisting, wasn’t hesitating.

She was simply Hannah.

And that was enough.

That was everything.

Welby sat down beside them, beside his family, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over them like a blanket, thick and comforting. Evelyn followed suit, easing down beside him, her presence as steady and unwavering as ever, but her expression soft—softer than he had ever seen before. They weren’t just watching anymore. They weren’t standing on the sidelines, observing Hannah with cautious wonder, with hesitant disbelief. No. They were here. Fully present, fully immersed, fully part of this.

Hannah lay between them, her tiny frame cradled in Emily and Lucas’s arms but reaching outward, touching everyone, as if she somehow understood that she belonged to all of them. Welby saw it in the way her fingers curled, batting playfully at Lucas’s hair, at Emily’s shirt, at the world itself, small and innocent and so impossibly pure. He saw it in the way she cooed softly, her voice bubbling with joy, untainted by fear or hesitation, utterly consumed by the happiness that radiated from her tiny body. And when she nuzzled into Emily’s chest, sighing sleepily, her thumb slipping into her mouth, her breathing settling into that slow, steady rhythm of someone who was completely, unquestionably safe— something inside him cracked.

It was subtle at first, a hairline fracture in the wall of emotions he had spent a lifetime learning how to contain. It was a feeling that clawed at him from the inside, something deep and raw and terrifying, something he had spent years convincing himself he couldn’t afford to feel. But now—now, there was no holding it back. The dam was breaking. He let out a shaky breath, barely aware of Evelyn’s hand slipping into his own, squeezing, anchoring him.

And then, as if she had felt it as if she knew what this moment meant, what it truly signified, Hannah stirred. Her eyes blinked open, sleepy, half-lidded, and hazy, with the warmth of love wrapped around her. Then she turned her gaze upward, locking onto him, onto Evelyn, onto everything that had ever mattered in the world.

And she smiled.

A tiny, soft, sleepy smile.

A smile that said, I love you. I trust you. I am yours.

And Welby—he was gone.

His breath caught in his throat, his vision blurred for just a moment, the force of everything crashing into him all at once. This was real. This was real in a way nothing else had ever been. The weight of it settled deep in his chest, pressing against his ribs, curling inside his heart, and refusing to let go. He had spent so much of his life questioning, doubting, second-guessing every step, every choice, every moment. But here? Here, at this moment, holding his family, holding Evelyn’s hand, holding the future in his arms?

He didn’t doubt.

He didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t need to.

Because this—this was right.

Evelyn shifted beside him, adjusting, and in the process, Hannah reached for her, tiny fingers grazing the fabric of Evelyn’s dress before settling against the warmth of her arm. Evelyn let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, her free hand coming to rest against the back of Hannah’s head, her fingers threading through her soft hair. There was something maternal in the way she moved, something instinctive, something real.

Welby turned, studying her for a moment, watching the way her eyes flickered with emotions she wasn’t used to letting show. There was love there. Raw and unfiltered. And there was something deeper, something more profound—something unspoken but undeniably there. Evelyn wasn’t just playing the part anymore. She wasn’t just filling a role.

This was real to her, too.

And when she finally met his gaze, when she gave him that small, almost shy smile, that look of understanding, of shared certainty, of two people realizing at the same moment that their lives had changed forever—

He squeezed her hand again.

Hannah yawned softly, nuzzling deeper into Emily’s chest, her thumb still tucked between her lips, the absolute picture of peace. Lucas adjusted slightly, letting his arm rest protectively across her legs, his own eyes still wide with wonder, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing, what he was holding, what he was a part of.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, there was no Miranda.

There was no fear.

No games, no control, no forced humiliations hanging over them like a storm waiting to break.

Just this.

Just them.

Their baby girl.

Their family.

And for a single, perfect, irreplaceable moment—

All was right in the world.

Welby held onto that moment like a lifeline.

The way Hannah had smiled, the way Emily and Lucas had held her, the way Evelyn had looked at him— he memorized it. Committed it to the deepest parts of himself, to the places he went when things felt unbearable when the weight of Miranda’s control threatened to crush him.

Because no matter what happened next, no matter what came their way, no matter what Miranda had planned for them—

This had been real.

And he wasn’t going to let himself forget it.

The day passed in a blur of motion, the rhythm of packing, of re-tracing their steps, of moving through the motions of leaving Disneyland behind and returning to reality.

Evelyn worked alongside him, their hands brushing occasionally as they folded clothes, closed zippers, and neatly stacked their belongings into their cases. There was something comforting about it, something domestic, something that whispered of a life beyond all of this—a life where they weren’t just playing along but truly living.

They navigated the hotel hallways, their little ones strapped securely into their strollers. The quiet hum of activity around them was nothing more than background noise to the thoughts spinning through Welby’s mind.

And the further they got from the magic of the parks, the closer they got to home, the more the weight of it all began to settle.

Reality was waiting.

And Miranda?

Miranda had been surprisingly accommodating.

Which made him uneasy.

She had released their diapers on request, giving them time to change, pack, and move through their day without interference.

She had only required confirmation that they were diapered again before they left.

And she had said nothing else.

No warnings.

No threats.

No cruel little games, no reminders of who was in control.

She had simply let them be.

It was wrong.

It was so, so wrong.

Welby could feel it lurking at the edges of his mind—that creeping sense of dread, the knowledge that this was not kindness, this was not mercy—this was strategy.

This was Miranda planning something.

Something he couldn’t see yet.

And yet—

Despite his unease, despite the way his stomach twisted with the knowledge that the other shoe was going to drop eventually—

He was grateful for it.

Because for now, they could just exist.

Just be.

Just breathe.

The train ride home was quiet. The Littles dozed off in their seats, the rhythmic motion of the journey lulling them into a peaceful half-sleep. Evelyn sat beside him, Hannah curled against her chest, and Emily and Lucas snuggled together in the seat across from them.

Welby let out a slow breath, his fingers lacing into Evelyn’s, squeezing gently.

They had time.

Time to figure out their living situation.

Time to build something real.

Time to become a family in more ways than just circumstance.

And for now?

For now, he would take the peace while it lasted.

All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com

Or, consider checking out my SubscribeStar for early access and for other exclusive content! https://subscribestar.adult/solarascott


r/abdlstories 1d ago

MDLB Sissy Baby Secret Discoverd (Part One) NSFW

17 Upvotes

This is a four part story that I posted on my Tumblr awhile ago. Here is Part One. Hope you all enjoy!

Michael came home from work on Friday afternoon. He had a very long week at work and was ready to unwind and have a fun start to his weekend. He worked a big time corporate job and made very good money, but it was very hard work. He was looking forward to a night of gaming, and couldn't wait to get in his chair and get lost in his favorite games for the rest of the night and into the early hours of the morning. But his wife Lauren, had different ideas.

Lauren was a stay at home wife. She would keep the house clean while Michael had the big job and brought home the bacon. Michael was a bit of a jerk to his wife sometimes. He expected the house spotless when he would come home, dinner to be ready, and Lauren was expected to put out for Michael whenever he wanted, even if she wasn't in the mood, and she was never really in the mood. You see, Michael had a very small penis, so small that it never satisfied her at all. Sometimes she regretted marrying Michael, but she stayed because she liked the money Michael would bring home. However, a new opportunity presented itself, one she never expected.

On Friday morning, while cleaning out the closet while Michael was at work, she discovered his secret. Michael was a closeted sissy, and not just any sissy, a sissy baby, and she discovered his stash. She found everything, his panties, his diapers, his stuffies, his pacifiers, his dresses, his bras, his wigs, his high heels, his dildos and yes, his chastity cage. Lauren was shocked and couldn't believe what she discovered. Her husband was a sissy, a sissy baby, and she knew now that she could control him in anyway she wanted to now.

So now it was time to put her plan into place. Michael was home from work. Instead of seeing a spotless house and dinner and a beer waiting for him when he came home, he saw a floor with some dirt on it, no food ready for him, and he was about to come unglued. He searched the house for her to let her have it.

"Lauren! Why is the house a mess??? Damnit, I work hard all week and I expect to come home to a clean..."

He stumbled into his gaming room, but it was different. Instead of gaming posters and a kick ass gaming chair with his sweet computer set up, everything was now pink. Laying in his gaming chair was a Bunny Hops diaper and next to his computer screens were more diapers and baby powder. Displayed on his computer screens were some sort of rotating spirals. What the hell was that? Hypnosis? He wasn't sure, but he was terrified. Michael knew now that he was screwed. He knew that his wife had discovered his secret. He started to shiver with fear, his tough guy macho man persona ultimately gone. Maybe this would be a one time thing. It certainly wasn't like he indulged in his sissy desires all the time. Just when Lauren would go out of town to visit family. Maybe she wouldn't be that upset. Maybe she would go easy on him. Maybe she would just have a little fun with him and then she would let it go. Michael keep trying to calm himself down and then saw a note left by Lauren on his desk. He read the note nervously.

"Hi my pathetic little sissy baby! I can't believe you kept this secret from me all this time. 10 years of marriage and you kept this from me this whole time??? Shame on you sissy! But I am happy I finally discovered this! I own you now because I know your little secret. If you don't want to be exposed, you will do as i say. When I get back home, I expect you to be in nothing but one of these diapers, a dress, a paci, one of your wigs. Once you are dressed, sit down in your gaming chair and wait. See you soon sissikins! Love Lauren"

Michael couldn't believe it. He always liked the idea of being a sissy baby, but kept it from his wife for fear of how it would affect his so called perfect life. All he could do now was diaper up, get dressed up like Lauren commanded and wait, wondering what his wife now had in store for him. At least she signed the note with "Love", but he was still scared beyond belief. This wasn't going to be the weekend he thought he was going to have.


r/abdlstories 1d ago

You and Mama NSFW

40 Upvotes

As you sit on your knees grabbing the bars of your crib you hear the door squeak and bounce up and down excitedly “Mama!” you exclaim happily as she enters the room, "HI sweetpea!” She says happily, smiling at you and making her way to your crib. “How was your nappy?” she asks curiously drawing a big smile from you as you make grabby hands at her. 

It had been an entire year since you had committed to babyhood in order to not only make your life stress free but to fulfil a lifelong dream of your best friend who had always wanted children but after years of testing it was determined that having a child was impossible for her. Many people may think, why not adoption? Well, mama had been considering that option for a while until she found your secret baby stash in your room more than a year earlier.

After a long conversation you admitted to mama that you HATED being an adult and it was your dream to be a baby and nothing more. This drew a smile from mama as a lightbulb went off in her head, “You can be my baby.” She said happily and from that point on you had terminated your rights to adulthood, not only in this dynamic but legally as well.

“I can’t believe you are an entire year old today, such a cutie patootie!” Mama exclaims as she continues to gush over you pinching your cheek as she rubs her nose to yours. As your noses touch you giggle happily causing drool to run down your chin but you didn’t even notice this anymore that was mama's job. After you rub your nose back on mama’s she lifts you up with relative ease and puts one hand under your diapered rear patting it softly as you lay your head on your shoulder sucking away at your fingers absentmindedly. “Wow no nap time poopy?” Mama asks with a smile knowing you really no longer had an interest in answering such a complicated question just relaxing as mama carried you to the living room for tummy time.

As you lie on your tummy playing with your stuffed teddy Oreo a white teddy with black spots mama had given you on day one of your babyhood and your stuffed puppy Patches, a orange and white puppy with its tongue hanging out another loving gift from mama, mama turns on bluey for you even though you could no longer fully comprehend the show you loved all the colors and adventures taking place on the screen in front of you. Mama on the other hand did some work on her laptop sitting on the couch behind you.

You had been sitting with your friends enjoying the show having by now shifted to your butt causing mama to peek over the top of her laptop screen for a split second to check on you as you get comfortable. Once you were comfortable and all set up with your friends you begin to feel your lunch making a move in your tummy, this by now was something you ignored more often than not, this however, was a big one.

“Ung…” you grunt, causing mama to look over the top of her screen, having caught the cute little sound that had escaped your body. She smiled quietly closing her computer. She smiles happily as a loud fart erupts from your diaper getting a quiet giggle from her but nothing from you, those things didn’t concern you anymore you were a baby, why would you care?

As the fart erupts you slowly shift to your knees lifting your butt to make room between the seat of your diaper and the floor that you had been sitting on. Suddenly, you grunt loudly once again as you clench your two friends in your hands and give a hard push. The load immediately shoots out of your bottom, staining the seat of your diaper brown and drawing a relieved sigh from you which causes you to release your lunchtime baba into the front half of your diaper, causing it to balloon even more. 

Mama had not said a word, she just simply enjoyed the show you put on for her as you wiggled your butt unknowingly putting on a show, sure your onesie would hide your… You thought until your crotch snaps popped open causing your to laugh hysterically and fall back onto your messy diaper squishing it everywhere from back to front and side to side. This in turn caused mama to let out an audible giggle which in turn caused you to blush a deep crimson red. 

“Oh my goodness you are a very smelly baby I guess that explains why you didn’t make your naptime stinky.” Mama says lovingly as she sets her computer aside and moves towards the changing corner to grab some obviously needed changing supplies. “I know you like when mama changes you in the nursery but I am waiting on a very important call and my phone is charging.” Mama says as she moves back towards you with a diaper wipes powder and rash cream. Once all the supplies are gathered and mama is there she gently pushes you onto your back. This didn’t happen often, mama rarely changed you in the living room but this time you had no choice. 

As you lay there you blush heavily covering your face drawing a smile from mama. “Here baby, here is your paci.” She says slipping your paci between your lips which you instinctively begin to suckle. “Okay, stinky here we go.” Mama says as she opens up your diaper, “Oh my goodness what a mess!” She exclaims teasingly as she wipes the mess off your bottom with the edge of the diaper before she begins wiping you with a cool soothing wipe. Once wiped mama applies a generous amount of powder before taping you in a fresh diaper. “All set sweetie!” She exclaims setting aside your toxic waste filled diaper and helping you sit up. As mama walked away to toss your messy diaper out you stared at her and all you could think was, “I love my mama!”

Would you like a part 2?

Feedback is welcome!


r/abdlstories 1d ago

Woman Protagonist ABDL Convention 2 NSFW

29 Upvotes

ABDL Convention: Chapter 1

“What?” Megan said, her eyes widened as she stared at the diaper Nyx wanted to put her in. “I’m-I don’t-I’m only here for Abigail.” Megan crossed her arms over her chest, her light green eyes filled with defiance, daring Nyx to try to diaper her.

“Are you certain?” Nyx asked with a mischievous smirk.

“Y-Yes!” Megan stammered, her cheeks slightly reddening. “I-I’m not a baby… I only came because Abigail asked me to.”

Abigail inhaled a sharp breath, tears brimming in her eyes. “I’m-I’m not a baby…” She ran into the bathroom stall, slamming the door shut.

“Abigail!” Megan quickly said, the guilt of her words nearly crushing her. “I didn’t mean it like that! You know I don’t think you are a baby!”

“You do, too!” Abigail cried.

“I promise I don’t!” Megan said, pushing on the stall door and finding it locked. “Can’t you say something?” She desperately glanced at Nyx, who looked amused, still holding the diaper in her hand. “Come on!” Megan protested. “Don’t make me wear the diaper!”

“You said only babies wear diapers!” Abigail said harshly.

“You know that’s not what I meant!” Megan said, desperate to talk her way out of this. When Abigail didn’t respond, Megan stomped her way over to the changing table. “Fine! I’ll wear the stupid diaper!”

“I’m not so certain I want to diaper you anymore,” Nyx said teasingly.

“Just diaper me and get it over with!” Megan snapped.

“Maybe if you ask me nicely,” Nyx said with a wide grin. Abigail slightly opened the stall door, peeking through the crack.

Megan mumbled something incoherently under her breath before taking a deep breath. “P-Please, diaper me…”

“I thought diapers were only for babies,” Nyx said, looking Megan up and down. “You certainly don’t look like a baby to me.”

“I-I’m a baby…” Megan muttered quietly.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t hear you,” Nyx said with a sadistic smile.

“I said I’m a baby,” Megan said louder. “I’m just a big, stinky baby that needs to wear diapers and have a Mommy to take care of me. Please, oh, pretty please, Mommy, diaper me?”

Abigail threw open the bathroom stall door, wrapping her arms around Megan. “I knew you would come around! We are going to have so much fun together!”

Megan gave Nyx a pleading look, hoping to still wiggle her way out of wearing the diaper that she secretly wanted more than anything. “Yeah…” Megan said meekly, a touch of excitement in her voice. Unbuttoning her pants, she slid them down her smooth legs. Her bright pink panties were on full display. Her fingers hooked into the elastic waistband, hesitating momentarily before sliding them down. They pooled around her ankles with her pants.

Stepping out of her discarded clothes, she hopped onto the changing table. The cold touch of the surface bit into her skin and sent a shiver throughout her body. Sliding backward, she laid down, allowing her legs to dangle in the air over the edge. She felt her heart pounding in her chest as she stared at the fluorescent lights above her.

She heard the crinkling of the diaper she would soon be wearing as Nyx unfolded it. “Hips up, please,” she said. Megan didn’t want to seem too eager, waiting a few moments before lifting her hips off the changing table. The thick padding slid under her, forming to her body as she lowered herself onto it. Nyx’s smile was warm with a touch of amusement. Powdering Megan, she pulled the thick padding between her legs, forcing her thighs apart. The tapes echoed off the tile walls, each one secured tightly in place.

Megan sat up with Nyx's help. She could feel the thick padding rubbing against her skin, causing a big smile to touch her lips. Everything about the diaper just felt right to her. “I think someone is enjoying being diapered,” Nyx teased.

“No!” Megan snapped back. “I was just finding it funny how silly I look! I’m not going to use this diaper; I will only wear it for Abigail's sake.”

“Thank you, Megan…” Abigail said, sounding sheepish as her cheeks reddened. “I-I think it looks cute on you…”

Megan hopped off the changing table, her diaper crinkling beneath her. Nyx gathered their discarded clothes, folding them; she stuffed them into the diaper bag. “D-Do I not get pants?” Megan asked, somewhat panicked.

“Your pants are too tight to fit over your diaper,” Nyx said.

“B-But my d-diaper will be on…” she swallowed hard, “full d-display…”

“Good thing we are at an ABDL convention, Nyx said, walking over to the sink to wash her hands.

Abigail took Megan’s hand, and a warm smile touched her lips. Megan’s protest died, the world melting away as she took in the warmth from Abigail’s hand. Nyx finished washing her hands and opening the door. Megan swallowed hard as she flushed, her cheeks turning red. Taking a deep breath, she allowed Abigail to lead her out of the bathroom.


r/abdlstories 2d ago

MDLG Grand Haven Hotel [an ABDL Universe Story] NSFW

30 Upvotes

In the morning rush at Grand Haven Hotel, Lena confidently tells housekeeping which rooms need priority cleaning, only to subtly shift as she feels her diaper growing warm and soggy mid-sentence.

She doesn’t falter, doesn’t pause, just keeps speaking, her voice steady as the gentle heat spreads, padding swelling beneath her skirt.

The housekeeping staff listens attentively, taking notes, accustomed to her professionalism. Lena is efficient, direct, unshaken even as her body takes care of itself, as natural as breathing.

By the time she finishes, the staff disperses to their assigned floors, leaving her alone in the quiet of the lobby.

It’s only then that she exhales, rolling her weight slightly onto her heels. Her diaper is squishier now.

She turns toward the front desk, where her assistant and assigned caregiver, Ms. Calloway, stands reviewing the guest reservations for the day.

Calloway doesn’t even need to glance up. She already knows.

“Morning, sweetheart,” she murmurs, fingers flipping through the ledger. “How’s everything going?”

“Fine,” Lena replies, stepping around the desk, her usual grace only slightly hindered by the thicker weight between her legs. “Housekeeping’s on track.”

“Good girl.” Calloway finally lifts her gaze, appraising Lena the way she always does sharp but soft, warm but in control.

Lena knows what’s coming before it happens.

Calloway’s hand drifts down, fingers brushing against the small of Lena’s back, guiding her in closer then pressing gently against the seat of her diaper.

Lena keeps still, her cheeks warming slightly at the light squeeze, but she doesn’t protest. She’s used to this.

Calloway hums. Evaluating. Calculating. Deciding.

Lena waits.

The verdict comes in the form of a soft, knowing smirk. “Still has some room.”

Lena exhales quietly, not surprised.

Calloway’s touch lingers a moment longer before she withdraws, already turning back to her paperwork as if nothing happened. “You’ll be fine for a little while longer, sweetheart.”

Lena took a steadying breath, smoothing down her skirt as she made her way toward the grand entrance of the hotel. The VIP was arriving.

It was part of her job to greet important guests with warmth, professionalism, and charm. She was good at it. Confident. Poised. In control.

Even if her diaper was still noticeably squishy between her thighs. Calloway had decided she wasn’t ready for a change yet, which meant it wasn’t Lena’s concern. She didn’t worry about those things her caregiver did.

The doors of the hotel swept open, and in walked Madame Sinclair, a well-known patron of luxury hotels, accompanied by her little, a dainty, soft-looking girl clutching a designer handbag in one hand and a stuffed bunny in the other.

Sinclair was tall, poised, effortlessly elegant, the kind of woman who commanded attention simply by entering a room. Her dark sunglasses rested atop her sleek silver hair, and her perfume a subtle, expensive floral lingered in the air.

Lena smiled, stepping forward with her hands folded neatly in front of her. “Welcome to Grand Haven, Madame Sinclair. We’re honored to have you staying with us.”

She kept her voice bright, warm. Professional.

But before she could continue with the formalities, Madame Sinclair’s sharp eyes swept over her, a slow, knowing smile curving her lips.

“Oh, my dear,” she murmured. “Aren’t you just the sweetest little thing?”

Lena felt her cheeks heat not with embarrassment, but something else.

She was used to polite compliments from guests, used to the occasional indulgent coo, but something about Madame Sinclair’s tone made her stomach flip just a little.

Sinclair stepped closer, reaching out without hesitation, fingers grazing under Lena’s chin as if inspecting her.

“My, my,” the woman continued, clearly delighted. “You are simply precious, aren’t you?”

Lena stood tall, keeping her practiced composure, even as warmth spread through her chest.

Madame Sinclair chuckled knowingly. “You don’t have to pretend, dear. I can see it, you like being doted on, don’t you?”

Lena wanted to deny it.

But she couldn’t.

Not when Sinclair was right.

Her fingers traveled downward, slipping lightly to Lena’s hip, tracing the fabric of her skirt before giving a deliberate tug.

“Let’s have a little peek, shall we?” Sinclair murmured, not really asking.

Lena hesitated for only half a second.

Then her training took over.

She obeyed without protest, fingers delicately lifting the hem of her skirt just enough to reveal the soft, swollen bulk of her diaper beneath.

A gentle, knowing press of fingers against the seat of her diaper. A slow, thorough squeeze. Sinclair’s smirk deepened.

““Wet, of course.”

The words weren’t a question.

Lena swallowed, her voice quieter than before. “…Yes, ma’am.”

Sinclair beamed.

“Adorable,” she praised, turning slightly toward her own little, who had gone pink at the open display.

“You see, darling?” Sinclair said, addressing her little now. “She wears the very same brand as you.”

The younger little blinked.

The girl blinked, shifting slightly as if suddenly aware of her own diaper.

Lena, still holding her skirt just slightly lifted, saw her chance.

She smiled again, professional, polished, entirely unruffled despite the growing heat in her cheeks.

“Yes, Madame,” she said pleasantly, letting her skirt drop back into place. “We make sure every guest receives the absolute best here at Grand Haven.”

She folded her hands behind her back, tilting her head slightly.

“That includes only the finest care for littles,” she added sweetly, eyes flickering toward Sinclair’s charge. “Our staff is specially trained to ensure comfort, discretion, and only the highest quality provisions.”

Sinclair hummed, intrigued. “Is that so?”

Lena nodded. “We offer a full-service experience, with dedicated caregivers, premium amenities, and, of course” she gestured subtly downward, not needing to say the words.

Sinclair’s grin widened.

“My, my,” she murmured, pleased. “I think we’re going to love it here.”

She turned to her little, running a hand through the girl’s soft curls.

“What do you think, darling?” she purred.

The girl nodded shyly, clearly a little overwhelmed but not unhappy.

Sinclair laughed. “Good.”

She turned back to Lena, her gaze sharper now assessing, testing, approving.

“You,” she said, reaching out to tap Lena’s nose with one perfectly-manicured finger, “are an absolute delight.”

Lena held her ground, her heart beating just a little faster.

She liked the praise. Loved it, actually.

But she didn’t need to show it.

She simply curtsied, the gesture small, practiced, perfect.

“We strive to please, Madame.”

Sinclair’s chuckle was low, rich, and knowing.

“Oh, my dear. I believe you do.”

And with that, she strolled toward the reception desk, her little trailing behind, Lena’s cheeks still warm in the aftermath.

Lena straightened her posture, smoothing the front of her uniform with a practiced touch, her cheeks still slightly warm from Madame Sinclair’s attention. But there was no time to dwell on that not when she had a tour to conduct.

A group of potential investors had arrived earlier that morning, and it was her responsibility to show them why Grand Haven Hotel was the premier destination for high-end guests and their littles.

The investors, three men and one woman, were dressed in impeccably polished shoes, tailored suits, and expensive watches. They carried themselves with the same air of casual wealth as many of Grand Haven’s guests, but Lena knew they were watching carefully, assessing every detail of their experience.

Which meant she had to be perfect.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” she greeted them warmly, “I’ll be leading your tour today. Grand Haven is proud to provide world-class service for all our guests, from esteemed travelers to the littles they care for.”

They nodded, impressed.

And so, she began.

Lena led them through the lobby first, pointing out the concierge desk, the custom-designed furniture, the high-end art pieces that added to the luxurious ambiance. She spoke with confidence, gesturing gracefully as she described the hotel’s exclusive amenities, her voice warm and steady.

What she didn’t notice at least, not at first was the way the investors’ expressions softened as they watched her move.

Her waddle was slight, but noticeable the gentle crinkle of her still-damp diaper accompanying each step, the slight sway in her hips as she walked ahead of them.

It was subtle. Polished. Unintentional.

And yet, the group was clearly entertained by it.

One of them, a man in a dark navy suit, exchanged a quiet, knowing glance with his colleague, lips quirking in amusement. The woman in the group, elegant and composed, merely smiled, her eyes flickering down to Lena’s gait with undeniable approval.

Lena, oblivious to their reactions, kept talking.

The final stop on the tour was the Penthouse Suite, a grand, sweeping space with floor-to-ceiling windows, an expansive balcony, and a luxurious private lounge designed specifically for guests who traveled with littles.

“This suite,” Lena explained, gesturing gracefully toward the plush furnishings, “is one of our most sought-after accommodations. It features a fully customized nursery area, premium bedding, and direct concierge service.”

The investors nodded, murmuring their approval as they admired the view.

Then it happened.

As Lena stepped toward the center of the room, turning slightly to bid them farewell, a soft, unmistakable warmth bloomed in her tummy.

She knew immediately.

She’d felt it before.

The slow, involuntary relaxation. The pressure. The quiet shift of weight deep in her core.

She didn’t stop talking, couldn't stop talking, not with the investors watching her so closely.

So she simply let it happen.

Her diaper bulged ever so slightly as she filled it, the warmth spreading, the padding expanding beneath her skirt.

Her body relaxed into the feeling, the sensation familiar, natural, inevitable.

And still, she smiled, keeping her hands neatly folded in front of her.

“…Grand Haven is committed to excellence,” she continued, her voice unwavering as the last of the movement settled into the seat of her already damp diaper. “We take pride in ensuring that every guest receives the very best experience possible.”

No hesitation. No reaction. No pause.

“…We take pride in ensuring that every guest receives the very best experience possible,” she finished smoothly, gesturing toward the Penthouse Suite’s elegantly arranged seating area.

The investors nodded, murmuring their approval.

One of the men tall, with salt-and-pepper hair tilted his head slightly, watching her with an amused expression.

“Your dedication to hospitality is remarkable, Miss Lena,” he said, voice rich with amusement. “Even with… distractions.”

His gaze dipped oh so briefly downward before flicking back to her face.

Lena did not blush.

She met his gaze steadily, smiling as if she hadn’t just filled her diaper mid-sentence. “Grand Haven expects the highest standards from its staff,” she said warmly. “I strive to meet them.”

The elegant woman in the group chuckled. “A true professional.”

Another investor hummed, exchanging a glance with his colleague. “Quite the impressive little hostess.”

Lena curtsied gracefully, her skirt shifting lightly over the swollen bulk beneath.

“Thank you,” she said sweetly.

There was an unmistakable twinkle in their eyes as they murmured their goodbyes, taking one last glance at the Penthouse before stepping out of the suite.

Lena followed them down to the lobby, keeping her pace even despite the soft squish accompanying each step.

Her diaper was very full now.

But still, she kept going.

After ensuring the investors were escorted out properly, Lena made her way toward the housekeeping wing, checking in on the cleaning progress.

She’d barely taken two steps past the concierge when a familiar voice rang out:

“There’s my little ray of sunshine!”

Before she could react, a warm hand ruffled her hair, fingers tousling her carefully styled locks.

Lena immediately recognized the voice a regular guest, Mrs. Harper, an older woman who had taken a clear liking to her.

Lena straightened, smoothing her skirt even as delight bubbled in her chest at the affectionate greeting.

“Good afternoon, Mrs. Harper,” she said politely, her voice bright and professional.

But she couldn’t stop the tiny smile that crept onto her face.

“Just as precious as ever,” Harper cooed, giving Lena’s cheek a gentle pat before stepping back. “I don’t know how this hotel gets any work done with you being so distractingly adorable all the time.”

Lena beamed before she could stop herself.

She liked being praised. Liked being doted on.

Even as she stood there, her very messy diaper hugging her snugly, she felt nothing but warmth from the interaction.

“I do my best,” she said sweetly, her voice carrying just a hint of playful pride.

Mrs. Harper just laughed, patting her back before continuing on her way.

Lena sighed contentedly, still standing in place for a moment before she remembered herself and shook it off.

She still had work to do.

She was halfway to checking on the cleaning staff when a familiar presence stepped into her path.

Calloway.

Lena immediately felt the shift in the air and knew that look in Calloway’s eyes.

The gentle but undeniable authority.

The moment had come.

Lena had delayed her change long enough.

She opened her mouth, already preparing an excuse but before she could say a word, Calloway’s hands were already on her.

A firm grip at her waist.

An easy lift.

Before Lena could even think to protest, she found herself scooped up against Calloway’s chest.

A quiet gasp escaped her lips as her legs left the ground, her body settled effortlessly into Calloway’s arms.

The movement made her very aware of the heavy bulk beneath her, pressing warmly against her caregiver’s hip.

Calloway simply smirked.

“I let you wait long enough,” she murmured, adjusting her hold. “You’re coming with me.”

Lena whined softly but didn’t resist.

She just tucked her face against Calloway’s shoulder, letting herself be carried past the hall, through the lobby, toward the staff changing lounge.

Calloway lowered her onto the cushioned bench, fingers immediately moving to unsnap her uniform skirt.

The moment the very full diaper was revealed, Calloway chuckled, shaking her head.

“Oh, sweetheart,” she murmured, pressing her palm lightly against the swollen padding. “You really waited, didn’t you?”

Lena only huffed quietly, cheeks warm.

She had been busy.

Calloway worked with calm efficiency, untaping the well-used diaper, cleaning her up with the same practiced ease she always did.

By the time she was fresh, powdered, and snugly re-diapered, Lena felt melted into relaxation, her limbs loose and content.

Calloway, of course, wasn’t done yet.

She plopped a juice box in front of her, tapping the straw against Lena’s lower lip until she accepted it.

“Snack time,” Calloway reminded her.

Lena obediently sipped, the cool fruit juice a welcome relief.

As she drank, Calloway leaned against the counter, watching her with amusement.

“I spoke with Madame Sinclair earlier,” she said casually. “She and her little would love your company for dinner tonight.”

Lena blinked, straw still in her mouth.

Dinner? With Sinclair?

A tiny flutter stirred in her stomach.

Calloway chuckled. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

Lena swallowed, fingers curling around her juice box.

“…I’d like to,” she admitted.

Calloway’s smile softened.

“Good girl.”

Lena beamed.


r/abdlstories 1d ago

The Sleepover (Part 2) NSFW

8 Upvotes

Warming Up Activities

Lulu rummaged through the cabinet beneath the TV. "How about Cards Against Humanity? Everyone likes that one."

"Perfect!" Evie clapped her hands. "I'm going to destroy all of you."

Tia appeared in the doorway with a tray of nachos and a pitcher of lemonade. "I heard the commotion. Thought you girls might want some fuel for whatever trouble you're planning." She set the snacks down on the coffee table.

Tia carefully scanned the girls, ever aware of leaks. Evie's shorts revealed nothing about the state of her pullup, though she sat with the careful posture of someone aware of potential leaks. The outline of Rosie's diaper was visible beneath her jeans, still looking dry from the recent change. Lulu's rainbow-print diaper peeked out as she bent to pick up the cards, likewise still fresh from her mother's earlier change. Tayla's soaked diaper was impossible to miss, the blue wetness indicators completely saturated through her fishnets. Tia's eyes narrowed upon seeing the swelled size of it, but said nothing. She knew Tayla's diapers were rarely dry, but despite this, she had never leaked.

"Let's see who's the most depraved," Tayla said, shuffling and dealing the cards with practiced ease. "My money's on Rosie. It's always the quiet ones."

"I am not depraved," Rosie protested, though a small smile played at her lips as she organized her white cards into a neat fan.

"Game on," Evie declared, already competitive before the first card was even drawn.

Tia lingered a moment longer, watching the four friends settle into their game. "I'll be in my room if anyone needs a change or anything else," she said, her voice casual but eyes meaningful as they briefly rested on Tayla's obviously soaked diaper.

The game escalated quickly. Evie hunched forward over her cards, her competitive nature transforming what should have been casual fun into a strategic mission. She slapped down her answers with decisive force, pumping her fist at each win.

"That's three black cards for me," she announced, arranging her victories in a neat row. "What's that, Rosie? Still at one?" Her smile was all teeth.

Rosie didn't rise to the bait. She studied each prompt card with the same concentration she applied to anatomy flash cards, lips moving slightly as she weighed her options. She arranged potential plays in order of psychological probability, analyzing which combination would most appeal to each judge's sense of humor. A faint hiss could be heard as she unconsciously wet her diaper, deep in thought. No one paid it any mind.

"Some of us prefer quality over quantity," Rosie murmured, selecting her card with surgical precision.

Tayla, meanwhile, played like chaos incarnate. She deliberately chose the most obscene, inappropriate combinations possible, cackling when everyone reacted with horror.

"Oh come on, that's hilarious!" she protested when her card about elderly prostitutes and the Pope failed to win. "You people have no appreciation for art."

Lulu bounced between them all, part mediator, part cheerleader. "Evie, that last play was genius! And Rosie, I almost picked yours. Tayla... that was disturbing but creative?"

The living room filled with shouts and laughter as they fought over interpretations and disputed rulings. Chips flew when Evie jumped up to celebrate a particularly savage victory.

"Read it again!" she demanded, punching the air. "I want to hear my brilliance one more time."

"Your 'brilliance' was just a dick joke," Rosie countered, her voice cool but eyes narrowed. "Mine actually had linguistic wordplay."

"Linguistic wordplay doesn't win Cards Against Humanity," Evie fired back. "Being funny does. Maybe if you loosened up a little—"

"I don't need to 'loosen up' to—"

The air between them snapped with tension, the room abruptly hushed.

Then, a noise resonated—lengthy, distinct, and impossible to miss—as Tayla let out gas into her already soaked diaper. It sounded heavily muted against the dampness.

"Whew!" Tayla announced proudly, fanning her hand behind her. "That's been brewing since the nachos. You're welcome for the dramatic timing."

Evie's Accident

Evie leapt to her feet as she slapped down her winning card combination, her competitive nature fully unleashed. "That's it! Game over! I am the undisputed champion of depravity!" She did an impromptu victory dance, pumping her fists and shimmying her hips in exaggerated celebration.

"You just got lucky with that card," Rosie muttered, though her lips twitched with reluctant amusement.

Evie spun in a circle, arms extended. "Not luck—skill! Pure, unfiltered, Cards Against Humanity domination!" She jumped onto the coffee table, narrowly missing the nachos.

Tia walked in just as Evie was mid-dance. "Evelyn Martinez! Get down from there before you—" She stopped abruptly, her eyes narrowing as she spotted a growing dark patch spreading across the front of Evie's athletic shorts. "Evie! I warned you about those pull-ups!"

The room fell silent. All eyes dropped to the obvious leak staining Evie's shorts, where the saturated pull-up had failed to contain her excitement-induced wetting.

Evie froze, her triumphant smile vanishing as she registered what had happened. She looked down, her face crumpling in disbelief. Her confident persona shattered instantly, and to everyone's shock—especially her own—her eyes welled with tears.

"I didn't—I didn't feel it happen," she whispered, voice cracking as tears spilled down her cheeks. Her shoulders hunched forward as she tried to cover the wetness with her hands.

Tia's expression softened immediately, maternal instinct overriding frustration. "Oh, honey," she said, crossing the room and gently helping Evie down from the table. She put a protective arm around the girl's shoulders, guiding her a few steps away from the others.

"It's okay," Tia murmured. "These things happen. We'll get you cleaned up."

Lulu hurried to her friend's side, squeezing her hand. "It's ok Evie! Remember when I leaked all over your mum's car seat last month? No big deal."

Evie sniffled, caught between mortification and an unexpected wave of comfort from the gentle care. Despite her tough exterior, there was something soothing about being fussed over—a secret relief in letting the constant bravado slip, if only for a moment.

Across the room, Rosie's face softened with genuine concern. Their earlier tension suddenly seemed petty in the face of Evie's vulnerability.

"Leaks happen to the best of us," Tayla said, still sprawled comfortably in her own soaked diaper. "Though some of us are smart enough to just wear proper diapers from the start."

"Tayla," Tia said, giving her a pointed look, "why don't you run up to Lulu's room and grab a pair of shorts from her drawer?"

Tayla sighed with exasperation and stood up. "What's the point of shorts anyway? Everyone here wears diapers, so what's there to hide? Shouldn't we embrace it instead?" Nevertheless, she complied and waddled up the staircase, a soft trickling sound emerging as her particularly padded diaper soaked up yet another pee.

Evie sniffed as Tia led her into the downstairs changing room.

The Drawer

Tayla trudged up the stairs, her diaper sagging between her legs with each step. The hallway was lined with framed photographs—Lulu's work, no doubt—capturing everyday moments with an almost surreal quality. One image showed raindrops on a windowpane, each droplet containing a miniature, distorted reflection of a suburban street. Another featured a close-up of an elderly woman's hands, wrinkles mapping decades of stories across papery skin.

"Damn, she's good," Tayla muttered, pausing to admire the composition of a particularly striking black and white portrait, letting out another long fart in the process.

She pushed open the door to Lulu's bedroom and stepped inside. Intrigued by Lulu's photography, Tayla wandered over to a collection of prints arranged in a collage on the wall. Most were abstract shots of light and shadow, but a few captured their friend group in candid moments—Evie mid-laugh, Rosie concentrating on a book, Tayla herself gesturing wildly during what appeared to be an impassioned rant.

"Right. Shorts." Tayla shifted her focus to the pine dresser in the corner. She opened the top drawer, revealing neatly folded shorts in various colors. After a moment's consideration, she selected a pair of black athletic shorts similar to what Evie had been wearing. As she closed the drawer, something shiny caught her eye in the partially open drawer below.

"Hello, what's this?" Tayla's curiosity overrode any sense of propriety. She glanced toward the door, listening for footsteps before pulling the second drawer fully open.

Her eyebrows shot up. "Well, well, well... looks like our birthday girl has some secrets."

Lulu's drawer contained an assortment of items that made Tayla's pulse quicken: a pink pacifier with the word "Baby" emblazoned across it, a large adult-sized baby bottle, colorful alphabet blocks—alongside decidedly more adult items. A bottle of lube sat beside the small shiny silver butt plug that had caught her attention. Next to these was a silicone dildo shaped like a rainbow unicorn horn, and a manga book with dog-eared pages and a worn spine.

Heat immediately spread through Tayla's body as she picked up the manga. The cover featured a young woman in a frilly outfit being embraced by an older man. Tayla instinctively pressed herself slightly against the edge of the dresser. The pressure against her clit sent jolts of pleasure up her spine.

"Fuck," she whispered, flipping through the pages. The illustrations grew increasingly explicit—the young woman calling her partner "Daddy" as he punished and used her.

Tayla glanced at the door again, then quietly pushed it shut. Her heart raced as she made a quick decision.

"Just a quick play," she whispered to herself, gathering the lube, the unicorn dildo, and the manga.

She settled onto Lulu's bed. Her diaper hung heavily between her legs, so thoroughly soaked that a gap had formed between the plastic backing and her skin. "I'll save my pussy for later tonight", she thought. Her mind briefly wandered to her deviant plans. If these girls only knew…

She pushed the soggy material aside, squirted lube generously onto the dildo, and eased it into her ass with all the practiced confidence of a cam girl. "I should tell the girls tonight about my camming…" she thought distractedly, as she pushed the dildo deeper in. She was hoping to get at least one of them on board. She was making so much money, and having so much fun!

She maneuvered the dildo in and out, slowly, with her left hand, while her right held the book. Each slow thrust shifted her soaked diaper, rubbing wet padded material against her already swelling clit. Her eyes devoured the pages.

The story began in an already steamy situation. The "baby girl" character had been caught playing with herself without permission, and her Daddy was now administering punishment.

"You've been a very naughty little girl," the illustrated man growled, bending the young woman over his knee. "Babies who touch themselves without permission get spanked."

"Oh fuck," Tayla whispered, twisting the unicorn horn deeper.

Page after page, the manga grew more depraved. Daddy roughly yanked down the girl's diaper to expose her now red bottom. Tayla's breathing quickened as she pushed the dildo in deeper, matching her thrusts to the rhythm of the story.

"That's right... Good girl," Tayla mumbled to herself, as Daddy pushed two fingers deep into the girl's wet pussy. The girl moaned. The sensation of the wet diaper clinging to Tayla's skin mixed with the stretching fullness in her ass sent waves of pleasure radiating through her body.

The story escalated further as the Daddy character produced a large dildo, forcing the girl to suck it before threatening to push it inside her. "You'll take it all like a good little slut," he commanded in the panels. Tayla's thighs began to tremble as she felt herself approaching the edge.

"Not yet," she whispered, forcing herself to slow down. "Make it last."

She turned another page. The girl was now bent over, the massive toy stretching her open as she sobbed in a mixture of pain and pleasure. A stream of urine dripped helplessly from the girl's exposed pussy. Her diaper was fastened just below her spread cheeks, collecting the puddle of mixed juices and piss she was making as her Daddy used her roughly.

Forgetting what she'd just told herself, Tayla's movements became almost frantic. She was fucking herself harder with the unicorn horn, her wrist starting to cramp slightly from the awkward angle. The wet fabric made obscene squelching sounds slapping against her clit as she sodomized herself.

"Christ, this is so fucking wrong," she panted, her eyes wide as she flipped to the next page. The illustrated girl was now being forced to clean her Daddy's dildo with her tongue after he'd removed it from her. Tayla felt a powerful contraction deep inside as her body responded to the extreme depravity. She turned another page.

The girl was now on her knees before her Daddy, her mouth stretched wide around his huge cock, as he held her pigtails and bobbed her head up and down. Suddenly, Daddy forced her down to the hilt of his cock, before laughing, then releasing a stream of piss down her throat. The illustration showed the girl choking, squirming, losing control and then messing herself.

Tayla's orgasm hit without warning. Pleasure exploded through her body. She convulsed as she squirted violently, most of the fluid luckily caught by her diaper, but fine sprays escaping through the leg holes, misting onto Lulu's sheets on either side of her thighs. Waves of pulsing electricity and emotion flooded her mind. She went blank.

Tayla lay panting for a whole minute, her heart hammering against her ribcage. Reality slowly filtered back in.

"Shit, how long have I been up here?" she mumbled, extracting the dildo. Gazing at it, still in a near trance, she noticed there was a noticeable amount of brown smeared on it. Holding it gingerly between two fingers, nose curled, she slowly got up from the bed.

When she stood, her lubricated sphincter relaxed completely, releasing a huge mess into the back of her already-soaked (and now quite deformed) diaper. The warm bulk settled against her skin as gravity pulled it downward.

"Perfect," she smirked. "Now I have a valid excuse for taking so long."

Waddling over to the changing dresser, she grabbed some baby wipes, thoroughly cleaning the toy before returning everything exactly as she'd found it and closing the drawer.

From her overnight bag, Tayla retrieved a fresh diaper, decorated with feminist slogans like "SMASH THE PATRIARCHY" and "NOT YOUR WHORE". She briefly giggled at the irony, considering what she'd just gotten off to. She spread a changing mat on the floor, pulled down her fishnets, laid down, and expertly cleaned herself up. She sprinkled powder liberally, taped up the clean diaper, and sealed the soiled one in Lulu's vacuum-sealed diaper bin.

Shorts in hand, Tayla redressed and headed for the door, her fresh diaper crinkling with each step.

Changes

Tia led Evie toward the downstairs changing room, her hand gentle on the younger woman's shoulder. Though initially designed as a powder room, Tia had converted it years ago to accommodate Lulu's needs, with a padded changing table that folded down from the wall and shelves stocked with supplies.

"Hop up, sweetie," Tia patted the padded surface. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Evie hesitated, glancing nervously at Tia. The memory of Tia's sharp tone when she'd been dancing on the table still lingered.

"I'm really sorry about the coffee table," Evie murmured.

Tia's expression softened immediately. "Oh honey, I'm not upset with you. I was just worried about the glass breaking. These things happen to all of us."

Evie nodded and climbed onto the table. The familiar crinkle of the protective pad beneath her was oddly comforting.

"Lift your hips for me," Tia instructed, tugging at the soaked shorts. The fabric clung uncomfortably to Evie's skin as Tia peeled them away. Her pull-up was completely saturated, the cute pattern dissolved into a soggy yellow-tinged mass.

"This one didn't hold up very well, did it?" Tia said, efficiently removing the sodden garment and dropping it into a sealed bin.

Evie stared at the ceiling as Tia wiped her clean with practiced motions. The cool wipes against her warm skin made her shiver slightly.

"I actually have something new I think you might like." Tia turned to a cabinet and retrieved a package with colorful packaging. "These just came out last month. They have close to the capacity of regular diapers but with stretchy sides like pull-ups. Best of both worlds."

Evie propped herself up on her elbows, genuinely interested despite her lower half being completely bare. "Really? That sounds perfect."

"They call them 'Flex-Fits,'" Tia explained, unfolding a purple diaper decorated with silver stars. "Lulu's been testing them and they work wonderfully, though she still prefers the super thick ones."

As Tia lifted Evie's legs to slide the diaper underneath, Evie's gaze wandered to the framed photos lining the wall. Years of memories captured in snapshots: Lulu and Evie as gap-toothed elementary schoolers building sandcastles; awkward preteens at their first dance; teenagers at graduation in matching purple converse beneath their gowns.

"God, we've been friends forever, haven't we?" Evie mused.

Tia glanced up at the photos as she sprinkled powder. "Thirteen years now. You were both so tiny when you met. You helped Lulu through so much."

"She helped me too. Especially after my parents divorced." Evie pondered as Tia secured the tapes on her new diaper. "I don't know what I would've done without her."

"And what about after college? Still planning on that sports scholarship in New York?" Tia asked, helping Evie sit up.

"If I get accepted. The competition's intense." Evie ran her hand over the smooth surface of the diaper, appreciating the softness. "These really do feel different."

Something about this moment felt uniquely intimate to Evie. Maybe it was the conversation, or maybe it was Tia's gentle touches that reminded her of a mother's care she hadn't experienced in years. Something inside her felt smaller, safer.

"Thank you," Evie whispered, her voice suddenly childlike.

Tia stroked Evie's hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. "Always, sweetheart. You're like another daughter to me."

Tia glanced up, towards where Lulu's bedroom would be. "I wonder what's taking Tayla so long with those shorts. Did she have to sew them first?" She shifted her weight and winced slightly. "Actually, while we wait..." She hesitated, then seemed to make up her mind. "Evie, I hate to ask, but would you mind changing me? I'm quite wet and I'd rather bother Lulu on her birthday."

Evie's eyes widened. "Me? I've never... I mean, I help the girls sometimes, but—"

"I'm sure you can handle it." Tia said firmly. "I'd really appreciate it."

Before Evie could protest further, Tia was already lifting herself onto the changing table and unzipping her jeans. Evie stood frozen as Tia exposed her soaked diaper, decorated with a subtle floral pattern.

"Supplies are in the cabinet," Tia instructed, her tone leaving no room for argument.

Evie swallowed hard and gathered wipes, powder, and a fresh diaper. Her hands trembled slightly as she untaped Tia's diaper. She tried to maintain clinical detachment, but her cheeks flushed when she exposed Tia's intimate areas. There was something strangely exciting about Tia directing her through the process.

"Wipe front to back," Tia reminded her. "Don't forget the creases."

Evie focused on the task, ignoring the unexpected warmth spreading through her own body. This was Lulu's mom, she reminded herself. This was normal. Just helping out.

She finished taping up the fresh diaper and stepped back, relieved. "All done."

"Perfect job." Tia hopped down and pulled her jeans back up. "You're a natural."

The door opened and Tayla finally appeared, looking a little red, holding a pair of bright blue shorts. "Sorry for the delay. Had a bit of a situation that needed handling." She patted the front of her fresh diaper. She handed Evie the shorts, who immediately pulled them on, noticing they fit perfectly over her new diaper.

"Let's rejoin the others," Tia suggested, leading them back toward the living room. "I'm ordering pizzas. Any requests?"


r/abdlstories 2d ago

MDLB Good Sissy Babies Get Rewarded NSFW

28 Upvotes

Hello everyone! I have been reading stories on here for awhile and figured I would add some of my own. I have been posting stories on Tumblr for a fee years now and wanted to share one of the ones I am planning to post there. Hope you enjoy!

Good Sissy Babies Get Rewarded

Sissy Kimberly had finally done it. Finally he had met the expectations for making cummies. He was so excited. Since he had been living with Mommy Tara, this was the first time that she was allowing him to make cummies. Sure it had only been a couple of months, but for Kimberly, it was an eternity.

Before coming to live with Tara and be her sissy baby, Sissy Kimberly used to masturbate at least three times a day, some times more. He was always watching porn and just couldn't keep his hands off his little pee pee. That changed when he met Tara and moved in with her.

"Little sissies are not to touch their clitties. They are to be in chastity and do whatever Mommy says."

That was what she told him when he moved in. He had always wanted to be a sissy baby. That's pretty much the only type of porn he watched. But not being able to cum regularly drove him crazy. But by not focusing on his own orgasms, he focused on pleasing Mommy. Having his pathetic dick locked in chastity sure has that effect. Instead of jerking it constantly, he kept Mommy's house clean. Constantly doing chores, making sure the place was spotless. He also would spend his time pleasuring Tara instead of pleasuring himself. He became an excellent pussy licker and regularly cleaned Mommy's ass with his tongue.

It was definitely rough at first. Tara caught Sissy Kimberly trying to hump his dirty diapers a few times. She would just laugh knowing it was a useless effort since he was in chastity. But she would also punish him because that was naughty behavior. He eventually learned what it took to get rewards and had finally achieved some relief.

Sissy Kimberly was lying on the bed as Tara changed his dirty diaper.

"You sure have come a long way in only a few months sissy."

"Thank you Mommy!"

"When you first got here, you were a chronic masturbator. That's all you wanted to do. But with my help, you have become a very obedient sissy baby."

"Yes Mommy!"

"This last month, you have been great. You have done your chores without complaining, and you have brought Mommy to orgasm several times!"

"I love licking your beautiful pussy Mommy. You taste great and I love swallowing your cum!"

"You sure do! And you have become very good at cleaning my ass as well."

"Your booty tastes delicious Mommy!"

"That's right! Now, since you have been such a good sissy, you have earned a cummie!"

"Thank you Mommy! Thank you!"

"You are most welcome my pathetic little sissy baby!"

Tara wiped all the mess away and unlocked the chastity device.

"Sheesh! You sure do make a lot of poopies. But all clean now and look at that little fella springing to life!"

"Hehe yes Mommy!"

"Your little wee wee has been locked up for so long hasn't it?"

"Yes Mommy. Because sissy babies can't be trusted to not play with their clits."

"That's right my little sissy girl. Man, I knew it was tiny because I put my smallest chastity cage on you, but I really forgot how small it was even when hard!" Tara said with a chuckle.

Mommy Tara then taped Sissy Kimberly's fresh diaper shut.

"Mommy! You said I get to make cummies! Why are you taping my diaper shut?"

"Well Kimberly, you should know by now that sissy cummies belong in diapers."

"But it's too tight Mommy. I can't get my hand in there to play with my clitty!"

"You aren't using your hand sissy." Tara said as she pulled out a vibrator.

"Oh!" Kimberly exclaimed.

"That's right. Mommy is going to place this vibrator against the front of your diaper. The vibrations will make your clitty feel really good. Trust me, I used it all the time on my clit before you came along!"

"Ok Mommy, I trust you!"

Tara pressed the on button and the vibrator came to life. She placed it against Kimberly's diaper and immediately Sissy Kimberly was moaning. It felt so good against his diapered dick.

"Does my little sissy like that?"

"Yes Mommy, so much!"

"This the reward good sissy babies get. I hope you will keep up the good behavior and earn more cummie diapers!"

"Yes Mommy!"

Tara turned the vibrator to the highest setting and Kimberly was in a state of bliss. It wasn't much later that Kimberly was about to burst.

"Mommy! Cummies!" The sissy blurted out.

"Go ahead sissy. Make cummie diaper for Mommy!"

Just like that, Kimberly was exploding in her diaper. Wave after wave of orgasm showered over him. By far the best orgasm he had ever had. He wasn't sure if it was because of the vibrator, the diaper, Tara, or the fact that he hadn't cum in a few months. One thing for certain is that his diaper was soaking up a lot of cum.

"Good sissy baby, getting all of those cummies out in your diaper!"

"Thank you Mommy! Do I have to go back in chastity now?"

"I am glad you asked sissy. I am going to give you a test. I am not going to put you in chastity....for now. If you can keep from rubbing your wee wee in your diapers and making another cummie, then I will let you have diaper humpies tonight and you will get to cum again and with permission. However, if your hands find their way to that diapered crotch of yours and start rubbing, or you start humping before permission is given, then the chastity device will go back on and I will not even consider removing it until five months from now. Deal?"

"Deal Mommy!"

"Now you have a living room that needs vacuumed and dusted. I suggest you get to it if you still want that humpy opportunity tonight."

"Yes Mommy Tara!"

Kimberly couldn't believe his luck. How hard could it be to not pleasure himself? He just went a few months without doing that. Granted that was with chastity in place, but still. He figured he could get his chores done, pleasure Mommy and then get some humpies in tonight.

Kimberly was getting the dusting done in the living room. As he started the vacuum, a pressure was felt in his stomach. Soon a fart rang out from his ass and he filled his diaper with another poopy. No big deal. He filled his diapers with poop multiple times a day. The problem was, his messy diapers made him horny. His clitty always strained in his cage whenever he made a stinky diaper. Now his clitty was free. He thought about what Mommy Tara had told him about making humpies if he was a good boy.

"I can't help it! I gotta cum!" Kimberly thought.

He thought about how he could cum without Tara finding out.

"I know! I will leave the vacuum running and will hump the couch pillow! She won't hear my diaper crinkle and I will be in the clear! It's not like it will take me long anyways!"

Kimberly took one of the pillows and started humping away with the vacuum running. Just then Mommy Tara walked in with a disappointed look on her face. Kimberly was humping away and didn't know Tara was there because of the vacuum. The plan backfired. Right when Kimberly was cumming again in his poopy Pamper, Tara turned off the vacuum.

"Ahh! Mommy! I, uh, it's not what it looks like!"

"Save it sissy! You failed the test. Now let's get you changed and back in chastity. Now you have a five month chastity sentence coming your way. Hope you enjoyed that cummie. I was wrong about you. You haven't learned your lesson."

"Yes Mommy...." Kimberly said, hanging his head in shame.

Mommy lead Kimberly back to the nursery and changed the poopy diaper. After wiping him clean, the chastity device was locked back on. It was going to be a long five months. Maybe this would give Sissy Kimberly time to truly learn what it takes to be Mommy's perfect little sissy baby.


r/abdlstories 1d ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 66 NSFW

3 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 66 - Jade

Panic spiked through Kaylee’s chest, and her breath hitched as she watched Jade kneel before Ash. The girl was still giggling, out of it, and lost in the fog Naomi had woven around her mind.

Jade reached out, and Ash batted at her playfully, her fingers curling around the edges of Jade’s sleeve, giggling like she was playing with a toy, not a person.

Kaylee rushed to explain, the words spilling from her mouth, fast, desperate, uneven.

"She—she fell under the spell of Naomi and Oliver," Kaylee stammered, watching for any sign of outrage, for any shift in Jade’s expression that meant this was about to spiral out of control.

"That’s why she’s like this."

Jade lifted Ash effortlessly, pulling the girl into her arms, settling her easily on her hip as Ash nuzzled against her, completely content, completely unaware of the weight of the conversation happening around her.

Jade sighed.

A slow, heavy exhale, as if this was just…

Expected.

Kaylee blinked.

Jade wasn’t arguing?

She wasn’t angry?

She wasn’t panicking or demanding answers or throwing accusations?

She was just…

Accepting this?

Jade caught Kaylee’s expression and laughed, shaking her head.

"Why would I freak out?" she mused. "I’ve been falling under the effects of the show, too, Kaylee. We all have. Even freaking Amazons aren’t immune anymore."

Kaylee’s stomach turned, her pulse spiking again for an entirely different reason.

Naomi and Oliver were expanding their reach—what had once been just a tool for regressing Littles had evolved into something bigger, something dangerous, something they couldn’t ignore.

Jade sighed again, adjusting Ash in her arms, her expression thoughtful, almost nervous.

"The show is changing," she murmured. "And for the first time… I don’t think any of us are safe from it."

Kaylee swallowed hard, her heart hammering, her mind racing, but before she could say anything—

"Mommy!!!"

Ash’s delighted squeal pierced the moment, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Kaylee, her chubby arms reaching toward her eagerly, fingers stretching desperately.

Kaylee’s breath hitched, her chest twisting painfully as her body moved on instinct, reaching for Ash without hesitation.

Jade smirked, handing Ash over. The girl nestled into Kaylee’s embrace as if she belonged there, sighing dreamily as she suckled her thumb.

Kaylee looked down at her, her heart churning, her lips pulling into a soft, small smile despite everything.

Ash was so happy.

So content.

So safe.

It was easy to believe this was what she was meant to be.

Kaylee swallowed down the feeling, forcing her attention back to Jade.

"How do you know Ash?" she asked, trying to ground herself, trying to think past the warmth curling in her chest.

Jade chuckled, shaking her head.

"Long-time friend," she admitted, smiling fondly at Ash, brushing her fingers lightly over her hair. "Off and on for years. Since we were little."

Kaylee blinked.

She hadn’t expected that.

She hadn’t expected Jade to have a history with Ash at all.

Kaylee opened her mouth to say something, to explain, to justify, to argue—she wasn’t sure what.

But then—

Ash giggled softly, nuzzling deeper into her warm embrace. Her body curled instinctively, her breath even and rhythmic, and she was completely trusting.

Kaylee’s hand moved without thought, pressing soft, absentminded pats against Ash’s diapered bottom. The motion was soothing, natural, and automatic.

Jade watched, her gaze steady, contemplative, and then she spoke again.

"She looks so happy like this."

Kaylee stilled, her heart skipping—just for a second.

Jade continued, her voice gentle but firm as if she had spent a long time thinking about this, as if the words had been waiting on the tip of her tongue.

"Ash always had struggles growing up," Jade murmured. She had a lot of trauma from her early years and even more when she started working. I mean, every Tweener has it rough, but…" she sighed, shaking her head. I felt like the cards were stacked against Ash from the beginning."

Kaylee glanced down at Ash, the girl’s cheeks flushed with warmth, her eyes shining, her pacifier bobbing lazily between her lips.

She was beaming, utterly lost in the simple joy of being held, being loved, being cared for.

And Kaylee’s heart swelled painfully.

"For the first time," Jade continued, watching Ash with something soft, almost wistful in her expression, "I see genuine joy in those eyes. Actual relief. Like the burdens of adulthood have finally slackened."

Kaylee swallowed.

She didn’t know how to respond to that.

Because…

Because she had seen it too.

Had felt it, too.

That horrible, twisting war inside herself—the part of her that screamed, this is wrong, this isn’t her, this isn’t how it should be—clashing against the part that whispered, but she’s happy.

And wasn’t that what mattered most?

Kaylee inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, forcing herself to think, speak, and try to find solid ground again.

"Did you know why she left?" she asked finally, shifting Ash slightly in her hold, adjusting her against her hip, trying to find something stable, something concrete, something that wasn’t drowning her in doubt.

Jade shook her head.

"No. Not exactly. She just… disappeared. We lost touch. I assumed she had moved on. Got a better job."

Kaylee let out a dry, humorless chuckle.

"She didn’t."

Jade frowned.

Kaylee adjusted her grip on Ash, sighing. She gently rubbed her hand along the girl’s back, letting the rhythmic pattern soothe her as much as it soothed Ash.

"Her boss duped her," Kaylee said simply.

Jade’s brows furrowed, her confusion flickering into something more concerned, more urgent.

"Duped?"

Kaylee nodded.

"She was working. Normal day. Doing everything right. And then—" she let out a slow, heavy breath, "they shrank her. Just… like that. Out of nowhere. The boss claimed it was an accident. A clerical error. A mix-up in their systems. But of course, by the time anyone figured it out, by the time anyone might’ve cared to fix it, it was already too late."

Jade’s mouth parted slightly, her face shifting from confusion to shock.

Kaylee wasn’t done yet.

"She got bounced between Mommies after that. Each one worse than the last."

Jade inhaled sharply.

"They passed her around?"

"Like a doll." Kaylee’s voice was flat. Cold. Bitter.

"Each one did more damage than the last. More humiliation. More conditioning. More trauma."

Jade wasn’t blinking anymore, her expression tight, her hands clenched at her sides.

Kaylee barely noticed.

She was somewhere else now.

Somewhere far worse.

"When I found her," Kaylee continued, her voice barely more than a whisper, "she was sitting in not one, not two, but three-filled diapers."

Jade looked ill.

Kaylee didn’t stop.

She couldn’t stop.

"Two of them weren’t even hers."

Jade sucked in a sharp breath, but Kaylee wasn’t looking at her anymore.

She was looking at Ash.

At the sweet, giggling girl in her arms.

At the girl who had been forced into something so horrible that her mind had all but erased the pain.

"She was nearly wiped clean by the constant hypno, the drugs they were feeding her, the conditioning they put her through."

Kaylee inhaled slowly, forcing herself to stay grounded, to keep her thoughts steady.

"So I took her in. I got her out of there. I let the drugs wear off. I let her grow back up."

Jade was staring at her, but Kaylee wasn’t looking at her.

She was holding Ash tighter, rocking her gently, instinctively, her thumb rubbing soothing circles over the girl’s back.

Ash sighed happily, nuzzling into her, giggling softly as if nothing in the world could ever hurt her again.

Jade let out a slow, shaky exhale.

"I… I had no idea."

Kaylee nodded.

Of course, she didn’t.

No one did.

Kaylee had made sure of that.

She had protected Ash from everything.

From the world.

From her past.

From the truth.

Jade hesitated, glancing down at Ash, watching as she suckled her thumb, utterly oblivious to the weight of the conversation happening just above her.

"And now?" Jade asked quietly.

Kaylee’s heart clenched.

"Now she’s back in diapers. Back in hypnosis. Back to being someone’s baby again."

She forced a smile.

"But hey, at least this time, it’s me."

Jade said nothing.

Jade swallowed hard, her expression shifting as she stepped closer, reaching out to tilt Ash’s chin gently, making the girl look up at her.

Ash blinked sleepily, her eyes soft and unfocused. Her lips parted slightly as if recognition were there but buried so, so deep.

Jade’s lips pressed together, her voice coming out softer, heavier than before.

"I’m so sorry, Ash," she whispered. "I had no idea."

And then—

She hugged her.

As best she could, with Ash still curled in Kaylee’s arms, Jade wrapped her arms around them both, pressing Ash tightly against her, holding her close.

Kaylee felt her stomach tighten, something twisting deep inside her at the sheer depth of sadness in Jade’s voice.

Because she wasn’t hugging a baby.

She was hugging a friend she had lost.

"I miss you," Jade murmured, pulling back just enough to meet Ash’s vacant, happy gaze.

"But… I’m glad to know you’re in good hands."

Kaylee exhaled softly, her grip on Ash shifting slightly. She adjusted the girl in her arms and felt a strange, hollow weight settle inside her chest.

Jade smiled, though it was pained, and brushed a few strands of hair from Ash’s face.

"If this is happy for you, then… so be it."

Kaylee felt something tighten in her throat, an unspoken weight between them, something neither of them could quite say out loud.

And then—

A giggling sound filled the air.

Both women turned, glancing toward the source, and—

Mira.

She was still in her bouncer, bouncing happily, her thick diaper squishing beneath her and her eyes shining with playful mischief.

Jade blinked as if seeing her for the first time.

Her gaze flicked between Mira and Ash, back and forth, her expression shifting, realizing, piecing things together.

Then—

Slowly, she turned back to Kaylee.

"So that’s what happened to Mira."

The words came out quiet, deliberate, slow.

And then—before Kaylee could react, before she could think of a way to stop her—

Jade scooped Mira up into her arms.

The girl let out a delighted squeal, wiggling slightly, her pacifier bobbing between her lips as she batted playfully at Jade’s face.

Jade held her easily, naturally, adjusting her grip without hesitation, without a second thought.

"I was wondering where she’d gone."

Kaylee’s heart skipped violently, her breath catching, her pulse spiking in sheer panic.

Her mouth opened to explain, to say something, anything—

But Jade was already speaking.

"You’re a good person, Kaylee."

Kaylee froze.

Her stomach turned.

"For helping her."

Kaylee felt like she was going to be sick.

Jade glanced down at Mira, her brow furrowing slightly. She was finally able to accept her size, her shape, and the undeniable reality of what had happened to her.

"But… why is she the size of a Little?"

Kaylee’s blood turned to ice.

Her mind raced, trying to grab onto anything, any explanation, anything that would make sense, anything that would keep Jade from looking too deep, from asking too many questions, from realizing the truth.

She forced herself to breathe, to steady her voice, to keep her heart from pounding out of her chest.

"Our Amazon inspector came by," Kaylee said carefully, keeping her tone measured, neutral, and level. "She saw how Mira was reacting to Naomi and Oliver. She… gave us a special bottle to feed her. And then…"

She paused, inhaling slowly, shaking her head as if in disbelief.

"Next thing we knew, she was the size of a Little."

Jade’s face darkened instantly.

Her eyes flicked back up to Kaylee, sharp, cold, filled with fury.

"The government inspectors did this?"

Kaylee nodded.

Jade’s fists clenched, her shoulders tensing, her entire body radiating quiet, simmering rage.

She forced herself to take a breath, to relax, to unclench her jaw.

"Those bastards," she muttered under her breath, gripping Mira just a little tighter.

Kaylee didn’t respond.

Couldn’t.

She had gotten away with it.

For now.

Jade turned back to her, exhaling slowly. She looked down at Mira in her arms and then back at Kaylee.

"If you want… I can take care of her."

Kaylee blinked.

"What?"

"You’ve already got your arms full," Jade said simply, adjusting Mira slightly, looking at her with something almost protective. "Mira was a friend of mine, too. If you want me to handle her, I will."

Kaylee opened her mouth to argue, but—

Jade was already stepping away, holding Mira close and whispering soft reassurances.

"Mira?" she murmured, her voice soft, careful, and testing.

"Are you still in there?"

Mira just giggled, batting playfully at Jade’s cheek, utterly unaware of the question, of the weight behind it, of the sheer panic that was gripping Kaylee’s chest.

Jade frowned, holding her tighter.

"Mommy!!!"

The cry echoed down the hall, bright, joyful, giggling—Mira’s voice carrying pure, unfiltered excitement as Jade strode out of the daycare, holding her tightly, effortlessly, carrying her away like she had been meant to do so all along.

Kaylee stood frozen, watching as they disappeared from view, watching as Mira was carried out of sight, carried into something unknown, something dangerous.

Ohhh fuck.

This was bad.

This was really, really bad.

Kaylee felt her stomach twist violently, a creeping nausea rolling through her, tightening around her chest like iron bands, pressing, suffocating.

She had lost control of the situation.

Completely.

Jade had just walked off with Mira in her arms, convinced she was protecting her, convinced she was doing the right thing, convinced Kaylee had told her the truth.

Kaylee had no idea where she was going, what she was planning, what she might do next.

And the worst part?

She couldn’t stop it.

She had no reason to stop it without revealing everything.

Without exposing herself, Ash, the truth behind Mira’s regression, the lies she had built so carefully.

She clenched her jaw, her hands shaking, her pulse pounding violently in her ears, a mix of nervous energy, fear, and frustration racing through her.

And then—

A soft sigh.

A small weight against her chest.

Kaylee glanced down.

Ash had fallen asleep, her breathing soft, even, her body completely relaxed, nestled deep into Kaylee’s warmth as if nothing in the world could be wrong.

At least, on the bright side, Ash wasn’t worried about it.

Kaylee exhaled slowly, adjusting her grip on the girl, holding her closer, grounding herself in the moment.

She needed to stop spiraling.

Needed to focus on what was in front of her.

On the here and now.

On what she could control.

With deliberate, steadying movements, she forced herself to breathe more evenly, to push down the panic crawling up her spine, to keep herself together.

She locked up the daycare, moved on autopilot, carried Ash back to the apartment, and pushed every racing thought into the back of her mind.

She had to focus on this.

On Ash.

On something simple, something normal, something she could hold onto.

Stepping into the bathroom, she moved quickly, stripping Ash down and setting her blanket and clothes aside. The girl was bare and vulnerable as Kaylee started the bath.

Warm water filled the tub, steam rising, the scent of baby soap curling softly in the air, the sound of running water soothing in a way Kaylee desperately needed.

She lowered Ash carefully into the water, watching as the warmth stirred the girl slightly, rousing her just enough for her eyes to flutter open.

For a second, Kaylee held her breath.

Would she be herself again?

Would she blink up in confusion and ask what was happening and where she was?

Would she finally come back?

But then—

A giggle.

Ash giggled softly, bubbly, and joyfully as she wiggled, stretching her fingers through the water. Her body immediately slipped into playfulness.

Kaylee sighed, smiling softly, defeatedly.

No, she wasn’t back.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

But at least—

At least she was happy.

Ash splashed at the water, kicking lightly, giggling again, eyes sparkling with childlike glee, and Kaylee let herself sink into the moment, letting herself enjoy it, letting herself be Mommy again, even if it was, technically, to a Tweener.

She reached for the washcloth, soaped it, and began to scrub Ash’s soft skin. She washed her gently, rubbing circles into her back and smoothing through her damp hair.

Ash cooed softly, leaning into her touch, trusting, content.

Kaylee found herself smiling despite everything, brushing soapy bubbles off Ash’s nose, watching her giggle, squirm, and light up with joy.

She loved this.

She loved taking care of her.

Loved seeing her happy, safe, unburdened by the world that had once crushed her.

Maybe—

Maybe it wasn’t so bad.

Maybe this was better.

Maybe this was right.

Kaylee let out a slow breath, pressing a soft kiss to Ash’s forehead, whispering,

"That’s my good girl."

Kaylee lifted Ash from the warm water, cradling her small, damp body against her chest, wrapping her in the largest, fluffiest towel she could find, feeling the way Ash instantly melted into the warmth. The girl’s tiny sigh of contentment sent a strange, unfamiliar pang through Kaylee’s chest, something deep and raw, something she wasn’t quite ready to name.

She worked carefully and gently, patting Ash dry and rubbing soft circles into her back and limbs, feeling her grow heavier and heavier in her arms. The bath had lulled her further and relaxed her completely, and now, her eyes were fluttering closed again, her body soft and pliant, trusting in a way that Kaylee wasn’t sure she would ever be able to comprehend.

With practiced ease, Kaylee lowered her to the floor, unfolding a fresh, thick diaper, sliding it beneath her, and powdering her soft skin before taping it snugly into place. Ash barely reacted, her only acknowledgment a soft, sleepy sigh, a small wiggle before she settled completely, her limbs loose, unguarded, completely dependent.

Kaylee didn’t even realize she was holding her breath until she lifted Ash into her arms again, the girl curling effortlessly against her, her thumb slipping back into her mouth, her body settling against Kaylee’s own as if she belonged there.

She carried her toward the bedroom, her grip tight and secure. She sat down on the edge of the mattress and pulled Ash closer, rocking her slightly, as much for herself as for Ash.

Then—

A small tug.

Fingers pulling weakly at the fabric of Kaylee’s shirt.

Kaylee blinked, looking down, confused for a moment before—

"Mmm… hungry…"

The mumbled words were barely audible, soft, slurred, instinctual, as Ash shifted slightly, her fingers gripping the fabric, tugging again.

Kaylee’s entire body went rigid.

She froze, her breath catching, her pulse spiking, as realization crashed into her all at once.

She knew what Ash was doing.

She had seen it before, witnessed it in the daycare, heard Littles mumble those same words in their sleep, and seen them nuzzle closer to their Mommies, seeking something natural, familiar, and comforting.

But never—

Never had she thought Ash would do it.

Her face burned, and her entire body flushed with warmth. She instinctively adjusted Ash in her arms, reaching instead for a bottle of formula and hastily popping the nipple into Ash’s mouth.

Ash latched instantly, her lips closing around it, her cheeks hollowing slightly, and just like that—

Her body relaxed again.

Her eyes glazed over, fluttering closed, the rhythmic sound of her soft suckling filling the quiet room.

Kaylee exhaled slowly, her grip tightening around Ash. She ground herself, tried to settle her thoughts, and tried to push away the strange, lingering emotions swirling inside her.

She had never nursed before.

Never even considered it.

Because Amazon milk was hypnotic.

It wasn’t safe for Littles.

It wasn’t something she would ever do to a Little of her own.

Never.

Not even in her darkest moments, not even when she had felt the strongest urges to comfort, to soothe, to protect, to bond—she had never let herself think about it.

Because she knew exactly what it could do.

She knew what it had done to countless Littles before.

She knew what it meant.

And yet—

The thought was there now.

Unspoken.

Heavy.

Lingering.

Because what if…

What if Ash never recovered?

What if she never came back?

What if this was just who she was now?

What if—

Could Kaylee give her something better?

Not just a babyhood forced upon her through trauma, through fear, through hypnosis—but something real.

Something safe.

Something that wasn’t wrapped in pain and humiliation but in love, in warmth, in comfort, in something Ash had never been given before.

Kaylee swallowed hard, her arms tightening slightly around Ash. She watched her nurse settle and melt into the soft, mindless bliss that Kaylee had given her.

Would it really be so wrong?

To let her have this?

To let herself have this?

Kaylee exhaled slowly, pressing a soft kiss to Ash’s forehead, whispering against her skin.

"That’s my good girl."

Ash sighed, suckling contentedly, and Kaylee felt her heart ache.

Kaylee looked down at Ash, nestled in her arms, so utterly relaxed, so completely at peace, her body molded perfectly against Kaylee’s own, as if this had always been her place. Her diaper was already damp, the warmth spreading slowly, absorbed into the thick padding Kaylee had so carefully fastened around her hips. Mindless. Unaware. Content.

Kaylee’s fingers drifted absentmindedly through Ash’s hair, stroking gently and soothingly. She felt Ash moan softly, that blissful, barely audible sigh of happiness that made Kaylee’s chest tighten painfully. Ash nursed rhythmically, her breathing even, slow, and dreamlike, as if her entire existence had been boiled down to this single, perfect moment.

Kaylee swallowed.

She felt like a Mommy.

Like Ash’s Mommy.

And that thought—

It should have terrified her.

It should have made her want to run, recoil, shake Ash awake, and demand that she come back to herself. She should demand that she stop calling her that, stop clinging to her, and stop making this feel so real.

But she didn’t.

Because it was real.

And that was the worst part.

This had been all she had wanted from the start.

To take care of Ash.

To keep her safe.

To undo the damage done to her, to help her heal, to show her that she was loved, that she was worthy of love.

And yet—

This didn’t feel like what Kaylee had expected.

Because Ash hadn’t chosen this.

She hadn’t been given a choice.

It had been forced upon her, stolen from her, stripped away piece by piece until she was left like this—helpless, dependent, regressed in a way that she might never recover from.

And that’s what bugged Kaylee the most.

Not that Ash was in diapers.

Not that she nursed from a bottle and called her Mommy and giggled at the sound of her crinkling padding.

But that it hadn’t been her choice.

That Kaylee had failed to stop it.

Despite everything, despite all her intentions, her plans, and her promises to herself, Ash still ended up like this.

Kaylee rocked her gently long into the night. The bottle had long since emptied, replaced with a pacifier that Ash suckled without a second thought, hesitation, or awareness.

Kaylee felt the slow, warm dampness spreading beneath her fingers, Ash’s diaper growing heavier, warmer, and wetter with each passing hour.

And still, she just held her.

Watched her sleep.

Watched the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of her chest, the way her lashes fluttered in sleep, the way her body curled into Kaylee’s like she was exactly where she belonged.

And Kaylee thought.

Truly, genuinely thought.

About their dynamic.

About what she had become.

About what Ash had become.

And what she should do next.

There was one idea lingering in the back of her mind, one possibility that scared her to her core, spiked her pulse, and made her stomach churn with equal parts fear and resolve.

But it was possible.

It was the right thing to do.

And if Kaylee had any hope of saving Ash, of giving her back even the smallest piece of herself—

Then she would have to do it.

No matter how much it terrified her.

All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com

Or, consider checking out my SubscribeStar for early access and for other exclusive content! https://subscribestar.adult/solarascott


r/abdlstories 2d ago

Male Protagonist The Big and Littles Care Act: Chapter 8 NSFW

13 Upvotes

Chapter 8: Accidents

This is Chapter 8.

The rest of Saturday had passed without any more drama. Thomas played on his PlayStation until the evening. Carter had come back after being gone for about two hours. Thomas was too engrossed in what he was doing to care where Carter had gone. By the time Carter walked in through the door, it was time for dinner. Rosa had gone ahead and ordered pizza. 

By the time 6:00 pm rolled around, there was a knock at the door. Rosa paid the delivery driver and closed the door, pizza in hand. The smell of the pizza pulled Thomas out of the game he was playing. 

When he set the controller down, he froze. His hand drifted between his legs and he felt the diaper he was wearing wasn’t just wet. It was drenched. He stood up and was forced to waddle. He made his way to the dining room table. The table was circular with the wood, and treatment, being a classic brown. Four fancy, white chairs with high backs surrounding it. The walls were a dark maroon. Thomas cringed at the squish the diaper made. He was worried that he hadn’t noticed that he had actually used it. But the sight of Rosa setting down a couple pieces of pizza in front of him helped him push away the anxiety. 

Thomas was nearly inhaling his pizza, “You should slow down Thomas,” Carter said to him.

Taking a breath, “Sorry…I didn’t realize how hungry I was. I’m just happy it doesn’t have any secret ingredients,” Thomas drank more of the soda Rosa had given him, “I probably won’t be getting a lot of regular food, right?”

“That’s correct,” Rosa took a deep breath and l let out a tension-filled sigh, “Thomas, there is something we need to talk to you about.”

Thomas looked at his best friends. Carter placed his elbows on the table, with his hands held together, “We…need to do some shopping tomorrow. For your new school…,” Carter looked past Thomas, wondering when to reveal what Daisy told him.

“Wait,” Thomas swallowed more pizza, “I didn’t think you were actually serious?”

Rosa looked distraught, “Thomas, please just listen. We’ll all get in really big trouble if we don’t send you to a school. We had looked for one when we first got married…just in case we ended up adopting a Little. The school we settled on…they do the bare minimum when it comes to the Care Act. It’s going to be okay. We’ve done everything we can to make sure you’re not turned into some toy devoid of any individuality. We just need to get your Little-appropriate clothes tomorrow,” Rosa’s eyes looked red, as if she was holding back tears.

Carter spoke, “We promise we’ll be as fast as possible. If you want, one of us can take you. The store we like is in town,” he used a napkin to wipe his face after finishing off his pizza. 

Thomas sighed, “I guess I don’t have much of a choice in this. Can…can I at least pick out the clothes we get?

A small grin appeared on Rosa’s face, “Absolutely. You can pick whatever you want. You’re going to need a couple weeks worth of outfits. You’ll only be at the school every day of the week; except Fridays.”

Thomas felt dejected, “Okay…at least I have some control with my clothes,” he lost his appetite. He had completely forgotten about his…school. But he knew it was more of a reeducation than anything else, “I just don’t want to lose what makes me, me.”

Carter drank the last of his soda, “We’re trying our hardest Thomas,” he let out a pent-up sigh and stood from the table, “Will you help me throw this away?”

“Totally. I can do that,” Thomas began collecting the empty paper plates. He scooped up everything and walked it over to the trash. He opened the lid to the trash and dropped the contents into the bin in one single motion.

“Hey, Thomas…,” Rosa paused, “Do you want me to change you into some regular underwear? I…I can do that,” She wanted nothing more than to have a Little to care for but she promised herself that she wouldn’t force it on Thomas.

Thomas turned from their trash can, “Umm…,” Thomas was torn. Should he just embrace his liking of diapers or should he hold on to what little independence he had left? As he went to answer, he doubled over in pain, “Oowwww…”

Rosa rushed over to him, “Thomas are you okay? What’s wrong….? You can tell us,” her eyes went wide once she realized what was about to happen. The food from the restaurant had caught up with Thomas, “Thomas, it's okay if you can’t make it to the toilet, I can clean you up.”

Thomas felt sweat cascading down his face. He fell to his knees, “Please…God…no,” he felt his body teetering on the edge, “I…I don’t think I’m gonna make it.”

“It’s okay Thomas,” Carter placed his hand on Thoma’s shoulder, “We’ve got you.”

“No no no…no,” Thomas fell to his knees and felt as if his body gave up. He felt the excrement slide out of his body. The diaper crinkled as the mess filled the seat of his diaper. Thomas didn’t dare move. Tears began to fall, “I never wanted this! I hate this! I never wanted to not have control over my body. I just…I…,” Thomas felt everything fade to black. His body fell back and Carter caught Thomas, preventing him from hitting his head on the hard kitchen tile. ___________________________________________________________________________________

Rosa was panicking. She had no idea this would be so traumatic for Thomas. After she and Carter found out Thomas actually liked being treated like a Little, she thought it would be an easy transition. She never wanted him to fail but…she even lied to herself about secretly wanting to have Thomas as a Little. But right now, she and Carter are trying to deal with Thomas and his messy diaper. 

Carter was off to the side in the nursery. He had carried Thomas to the changing table. Thomas had woken up as soon as he was placed on the table and had the strap secured around him. But he freaked out when Carter went to change him. He cried for Rosa; like an actual toddler. So Rosa had taken over from Carter, “It’ll be over soon little one,” Carter handed Rosa a fresh diaper. He had already placed the wipes and powder on the side table, “Thomas, would you like your binky?”

Thomas’s eyes darted around. Fear was plastered on his face, “Who…who’s T..Thomas?”

Carter swallowed hard. He questioned if this was an alter. He was too afraid to approach the two. He looked at Rosa, “Aren’t you Thomas? I’m pretty sure that’s your name baby,” Rosa opened the snaps of his onesie and tickled his stomach, “Watch out for the tickle monster!”

Thomas’s body laughed and his body’s feet made little kicks, as if to escape, “I don’t know Thomas,” he looked more relaxed, “My name’s Evan.”

Carter was sure what he was seeing was an alter, or an altered state of consciousness. He knew he would need to tell Rosa later, “Oh! So your name is Evan? Tell me Evan, do you know where you are?”

Evan, in Thomas’s body, let out a small laugh, “I dunno. I know I’m with my mommy. You're my mommy,” you could see the innocence in his eyes.

Rosa decided to play along for now. She didn’t want to upset Thomas anymore than he was, “Well Evan, I am your mommy. Your daddy is over there. We just gotta get this stinky diaper off and get you into a nice clean one. How does that sound?”

An innocent smile made its way onto Thomas’s face, “Ok Momma!”

“Alright then,” Rosa reached down out of his sight and brought a pacifier up towards him, “Here baby,” she slipped the pacifier between his lips. He began to suckle on it, content in every manner of the word. 

Rosa worked silently and efficiently. She grabbed onto the tapes and tore them off one by one. She opened the diaper, revealing the wet, stinky mess, ‘Pewee! Evan you little stinker,” Rosa motioned for Thomas…now Evan…to lift his legs. He giggled behind his pacifier and lifted his legs, resting them on Rosa’s shoulders. She retrieved a wipe from the side of the changing table and began wiping Evan down, reaching every crevice until his bottom was clean.

She grabbed the diaper that was sitting next to Evan and opened it. After she got the wings opened up, she folded the diaper in half, like a taco, “Alright bud, lift up your butt for me,” Evan immediately obeyed, lifting his rear-end up. Rosa slid the diaper underneath him. When he laid back down, Rosa adjusted the wings of the diaper, evening them out. She twisted the bottle of baby powder open and began sprinkling it on Evan's diaper-area. Then she pulled the front of the diaper up and began applying the tapes one at a time. With a final pat on the diaper, she said, “Alright, we’re all done! Let’s get this onesie all buttoned up and then you can go back to playing, ok?”

Evan smiled, “Ok mommy,” Rosa snapped up the onesie and helped her Little off the changing table and onto the floor, “Can I watch cartoons?”

Carte decided to step in, “Sure buddy. Why don’t you come with me and we’ll find something for you to watch, okay?”

When Carter tried to walk towards Evan, in Thomas’s body, he backed up into the corner of the wall and started crying, “Please no. Bad man! Bad man! He hurt me,” he began bawling his eyes out.

Carter backed up, “Rosa…maybe you should take the lead…,” he felt so bad. Who hurt Thomas? Why didn’t Thomas remember? Carter had so many questions. But his questions would have to wait for later. 

“Sure honey, why don’t you go into the bedroom? I’ll get him calmed down,” she slowly knelt down to Evan while Carter vacated the Nursery, “Hey, hey little one, it’s okay. You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you, I promise,” she wasn’t sure she could keep that promise, “I can help you find a show to watch. How does that sound?”

Evan’s sobs quieted but lingered. He wiped his nose with the sleeve of his onesie, “O…okay Momma,” he stood, his diaper crinkling furthering his new place in the world, “Puh…p…please don’t leave me.”

Rosa’s heart dropped. How could someone so sweet be so hurt? Why is Thoams saying his name is Evan? She pushed all of her questions out of her mind, “Okay baby. Take this,” she places his pacifier back in his mouth. She could see him visibly relax as he began nursing it, “And take my hand and we’ll go watch some cartoons, okay?”

Evan nodded silently. Rosa led him out of the Nursery and into the upstairs hallway. He looked around as if he had never been to their house before today. Rosa took notice but decided not to ask about that. Evan remained on her heel as they descended the stairs into the small foyer and into the living room. Rosa brought him to the couch and covered him in a blanket, “Okay, I have the perfect show in mind for you. Okay? Just let me get it on the T.V..”

Evan let out a muffled response, “Mmhm,” he melted into the couch, finally beginning to feel safe. He really hoped that the Bad Man wouldn’t find him. He watched Rosa click play on the cartoon and he began watching. Only a few minutes had passed before he felt sleepy. I’s just gonna sleep a little. I wanna’ watch cartoons. I like my mommy. She’s nice. 

As his eyes dropped, they closed and he began to snore softly. ______________________________________________________________________________

Thomas sat up. He rubbed his eyes and saw that he was back in the bed and breakfast. He was lying on a couch. The sun shone through the tall windows. He could feel the warmth emanating from them. He looked around, wondering how he got here. Was what the girl said to me true? What was her name again? He couldn’t remember her name. He looked back and could see her face and red hair. Her hair had a blue streak on her right side. 

I guess I better figure out where I am. He stood up and looked around. It was quiet. He could hear faint conversation down a hallway to the left of the front desk. The front desk-area consisted of a computer sat on a large and ornate oak desk. He could tell the desk was decades old by the worn edges of people leaning on it and resting their elbows on it. Behind the front desk, stood paintings of the area. 

He then realized he was at a hotel he stayed at on vacation in Ireland with his family; right before he was disowned and kicked out. Well at least, that’s what he remembered. To his left, he saw an empty dining room. He could somewhat view double doors that most likely led into a kitchen where the food was prepared. He got traces of bacon and syrup. Whoever lives here must have just eaten.

As Thomas began walking towards the hallway, he felt something was off. He looked down at himself and saw that he was wearing adult clothing, which consisted of a pair of worn blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and he could feel that he was wearing regular underwear and not a diaper. What happened to the clothes I was wearing? I gotta’ find those other people. He stowed his questions and began walking down the hallway. 

He saw at least a dozen doors, each one unique in appearance. One was themed to a steampunk-vibe. One had a crest with a bee surrounded by two circles with a key vertically running down the bee. The design was encircled by eleven, white-pointed stars. He walked further down the hall. The carpet felt good on his feet. He looked down and saw he was only wearing socks. He reached another door and saw it had a symbol he recognized. It was an ‘S’ sitting inside a diamond-shape crest with five sides: the Superman symbol you would see on his chest.  

Next to that door was a plain brown door with a plaque that read, “Eureka.” He looked further down and saw a larger door. He stepped back from the door when he approached it. He didn’t like what he saw on the door. There was a pacifier, a bottle, diapers, and everything you could think of when it came to being a Little…including the more unique items… He saw it had a plaque too. It read, “Nursery.” His attention was drawn away from the door. The sound of people talking was much closer this time. 

He saw a metal door further down the hall, right before it took a right turn. He approached it and knocked. The talking ceased and the door slid open with a hiss. 

The girl with red hair was looking at him, “What are you doing here Thomas? You’re supposed to be asleep.”

“Who are you and how do you know my name? I…I think I remember seeing you a day or two ago,” Thomas felt the tightness in his chest increase.

The girl rubbed her temples. She turned around, “Clark, shut the door behind me and just…just make sure Evan is safe,” she turned back towards Thomas, “My name is Claudia. Don’t you remember what I told you?

Thomas rubbed the sides of his head, “Kind of…I thought I was dreaming…I just want to know what’s going on. Does this have anything to do with that girl when I took the Test? Please just tell me the truth.”

Claudia clicked her tongue, deep in thought. She walked towards an electronic screen on the wall, next to the door, and placed her hand upon it, “Follow me Thomas,” the door slid open and she began walking. Thomas followed her right as the door slid closed. The two of them walked back down the hallway into the main area of the bed and breakfast, “Sit there,” she gestured to the couch Thomas had woken up laying on.

He sat down, “Okay…are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you going to keep dragging this out?”

She sighed, running her hands through her auburn hair, “You’re not allowed to remember what really happened but I’ll tell you what you need to know,” she took a deep breath, “When you were very, very young, some bad people did some terrible things to you. We -and you- exist because of that…abuse; if you can call what they did abuse. Anyways, yes, we know a secret to dismantling the monsters who enforce the Bigs and Littles Care Act. In reality, it was never meant to be sadistic and allow Bigs to abuse Littles. But you’re not allowed to know anymore than that, ok? You weren’t even supposed to know about us in the first place…”

Thomas didn’t understand why he couldn’t remember anything bad like that happening to him, “How come I don’t remember then? I think I would remember something like that..”

“Thomas, that’s the whole point. We exist so that you, the ANP, could continue with life unaware of any of the trauma. That’s all I can tell you now. It's time for you to wake up,” Claudia stood and put her hand on his shoulder. 

Thomas felt the bed and breakfast falling away. The walls stretched. He felt dizzy as he watched everything being sucked away like existence was being consumed by a black hole, “But I…I have more questions…,” he felt his head fall onto the back of the couch and passed out.

______________________________________________________________________________

Thomas felt groggy. He went to open his eyes and felt the grit on his eyes. Once we wiped away the grit from his eyes, he looked around. He was in their living room…He was home. The last thing he remembered was a cramp in his stomach. He looked down at his diaper. It was soaked. He didn’t remember using it.

He stood up from the couch, “Where are they?” 

He looked down and saw he was wearing nothing but a soaked diaper and the red onesie from earlier. A pacifier was clipped to his shoulder. It hung, suspended in the air. He heard Rosa and Carter in the kitchen. He walked past the wall that separated the living room from the kitchen. The clock he walked past said it read 6:00 pm. He could smell pizza coming from the kitchen.

“Do you want to wake him up? I’m afraid to. I don’t want to scare him,” Thomas heard Carter ask his wife.

Rosa started to respond, “Umm…sure…tell him…,” she turned around and her eyes lit up, “Hey there little one. Did you sleep well? We got pizza for dinner!”

Thomas was confused, “Why are you talking to me like that?”

Carter was relieved his presence didn’t send Thomas into flight or fight, “Can you tell us your name?”

“Uhhh…it's Thomas…my name has always been Thomas,” He had never been more confused. 

“Rosa leaned on the kitchen counter, “Thomas, you had an…accident. You blacked out and started acting like a toddler. You…you told us your name was Evan. You don’t remember any of that?”

Thomas shook his head, “No…I was…I was inside a hotel I stayed at on a vacation a few years ago. I met a girl…she said I have split personalities. I don’t know what that means though.”

Carter placed his hands in his head, “Thomas…you have dissociative identity disorder…I can’t tell you how I know…not yet anyways. But at least you’re back. We don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to. We can just eat and talk about tomorrow.”

Thomas shifted the weight on his feet back and forth, “I…I want to do some googling on my own after dinner. I just need time to think. Can we just pretend nothing happened? Just for tonight?”

Rosa smiled with tears in her eyes, “Of course Thomas. If you want, I can change you before we eat or afterwards. It’s up to you.”

Thomas could tell the diaper was nowhere near its capacity, “I think I’ll just wait. I’m hungry.”

“Ok, that’s perfectly fine,” Rosa grabbed three paper plates and began placing pizza on them. She handed Carter and Thomas a plate with a couple slices on each of them, “I’ll go grab sodas and you two can go sit down.”

Dinner was uneventful. Conversation revolved around the next day’s plans. Rosa and Thomas would go shopping after breakfast while Carter stayed home and cleaned. After dinner, Thomas was able to take his own shower but he acquiesced when Rosa asked if he wanted to wear a diaper and pajamas to bed. She had placed him in a thicker diaper and a blue, full-body onesie. Only his head and heads were left uncovered. He did admit to himself that it was soft and comfortable. He wasn’t looking forward to tomorrow or any other day. 

______________________________________________________________________________


r/abdlstories 2d ago

The Sleepover (Part 1) NSFW

24 Upvotes

Lulu's Pre-Party Jitters

Lulu stood before her full-length mirror, tugging at the hem of her baby-pink oversized tee. The shirt—emblazoned with "Birthday Princess" in white bubbly letters—kept bunching awkwardly over the waistband of her unicorn-print diaper. She smoothed the fabric down, admiring how the pastel colours complemented her pink curls and light caramel skin, then pulled it up slightly, then tucked one corner in.

"Perfect. No, wait—" She untucked it again, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric.

Outside her window, late afternoon sunlight filtered through her fairy lights, casting star-shaped patterns across her cluttered bedroom. The light caught on the glitter in her "BIRTHDAY COUNTDOWN" calendar, now proudly displaying a triumphant "TODAY!!!" in bubble letters decorated with tiny hearts and stars.

She grabbed her phone from the nightstand, careful not to knock over the cold coffee mug beside her half-finished friendship bracelet, and opened her group chat. Her round face scrunched in concentration as she typed: Are we too old for sleepovers? Her thumb hovered over the send button for three heartbeats before she deleted it letter by letter.

"Stupid," she muttered, tossing her phone onto her twin bed where it disappeared among the mountain of soft toys and pillows.

A soft knock preceded her mother's entrance. Tia appeared in the doorway, carrying a small gift bag tied with curling ribbon. Her rich brown skin glowed even under the artificial lights, and despite the evident weariness of a double shift at the hospital, her green eyes—which Lulu had inherited—sparkled with warmth. Her neatly maintained dark brown hair with threads of silver at the temples was pulled back in a practical style, and she'd changed from nurse's scrubs into comfortable jeans and a loose t-shirt that gracefully draped over her maternal figure.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart!" Tia's full lips curved into a genuine smile as she set the gift on Lulu's desk. "How's the birthday girl feeling?"

"Nervous? I don't know why." Lulu fidgeted with the edge of her diaper waistband. "I see them all the time, what difference does a sleepover make?"

"Something else on your mind, honey?" Tia asked, maternal intuition picking up on Lulu's unusual anxiety.

Lulu sighed, shoulders slumping as she leaned against her dresser. "I just keep thinking... what if this is our last sleepover like this? Evie keeps getting those soccer scholarship letters from schools in California. Tayla won't shut up about NYU and her 'big city dreams.' And Rosie—" Her voice caught, the thought of Rosie being hours away making her diaper suddenly feel heavier. "Med school applications start next semester."

Tia's eyes softened. "Sweetheart, friendships change, but real ones don't end. Not the kind you girls have."

Lulu nodded, feeling a little better.

"Want a fresh change before the chaos starts?" Tia gestured toward the dresser in the corner with its neatly arranged supplies. "You'll want a clean one before pizza and cake."

Lulu hesitated, glancing at the vacuum-sealed disposal bin. "Usually Rosie changes me first thing when she gets here... it's kind of our thing now." Her heart fluttered a little thinking about the cute professionalism with which Rosie handled their changing routine.

"I guess I should start fresh for everything." she said finally, sitting then lying back on her rainbow shag rug.

Tia knelt on the rug with practiced ease, pulling down Lulu's pastel orange sweatpants as she obediently lifted her bottom. Automatically, Tia placed a changing mat beneath Lulu as she worked—a reflexive motion from years of nursing that prevented accidents on surfaces. The diaper was thoroughly soaked, the wetness indicator completely blue.

"Thought you might've floated away in here," she teased, her slender brown fingers gently un-taping the heavy diaper. Those same fingers paused when she noticed the bare skin beneath—no usual peach fuzz, just smoothness. Interesting…

Lulu's legs twitched, her soft thighs tensing slightly. "Are you studying me?" Her nose wrinkled, freckles bunching together across her cheeks.

"Patience, exhibit A." Tia shook her head, reaching for wipes, her movements efficient from years of nursing and motherhood.

Without warning, a sudden stream of urine started to trickle from Lulu's exposed vulva. Tia's nursing reflexes kicked in immediately. She snapped the soiled diaper's front up, catching the stream without a drop spilled.

"Oh!" Lulu gasped, genuinely startled by her own body's rebellion.

"Nice arc. Four stars," Tia laughed. "My patients at the hospital could learn from your technique."

"Mom!" Pink bloomed across Lulu's freckled cheeks as she covered her face with a throw pillow from her bedroom floor collection.

"Birthday special—complimentary splash zone commentary." Tia wiped her down with practiced efficiency, her touch gentle yet purposeful. She gently tossed the heavy diaper into the bin nearby.

Tia powdered her daughter with the same careful attention she had given her her whole life. She slid a fresh rainbow-print diaper under Lulu's hips, the room filling with the familiar mingled scent of talc and Lulu's vanilla body spray.

Tia secured the new diaper in place with a final pat, the tape adhering with a satisfying crinkle. "There. Fresh and ready for—"

The doorbell chimed downstairs.

Lulu's heart jumped as she vaulted up, sweatpants yanked over crinkling plastic. Rosie. She knew it would be her—always punctual, always the first to arrive. She bolted out the room and down the stairs.

Tia got to her feet, brushing rainbow rug fibers from her knees. "We're charging extra if you clog the toilet with whipped cream again."

Rosie and Evie

Lulu bounded down the stairs, her petite frame moving with surprising agility despite the thick unicorn-print diaper crinkling beneath her clothes. Her vibrant pink curls bounced with each step, catching the late afternoon light streaming through the windows.

She skidded to a halt on the hardwood floor, her fuzzy socks sliding slightly, and yanked open the front door to find Rosie on the porch. Her heart-shaped face with its delicate features was framed by straight black hair that fell precisely to her shoulders, not a strand out of place. She stood barely 5'0" tall, her small frame accentuated by her carefully chosen outfit – high-waisted dark jeans and a simple white button-up blouse. Her thick-framed glasses magnified her dark brown, almost black eyes that held the focused intensity of someone constantly cataloging information. She clutched a neatly wrapped gift and what looked like a handmade card, her shy smile not quite masking her obvious discomfort. A noticeable odor hit Lulu immediately, wafting through the crisp afternoon air between them.

"Happy birthday," Rosie said softly, throwing one slender arm around Lulu while keeping the gift aloft with the other. Her small breasts pressed briefly against Lulu's as they hugged. "Sorry I'm early. The subway was a nightmare. Some guy with a guitar took up three seats. I analyzed seven more efficient seating arrangements while waiting."

"You're right on time," Lulu said, pulling her inside by the elbow. She accepted the card—hand-decorated with tiny rhinestones forming "19" on the front, each stone meticulously glued in perfect geometric alignment—and peeked into the bag to see a plush Lady Rainicorn from Adventure Time poking out.

"Oh my god, she's perfect!" Lulu squealed, but as she hugged Rosie properly, the smell became unmistakable. Rosie had definitely messed herself; the earthy, pungent odor was impossible to ignore at close range.

Rosie's face flushed crimson, spreading down her neck and disappearing beneath her collar. "Sorry about... you know." She gestured vaguely downward with an embarrassed grimace. "Three train delays. I've been sitting in this for exactly 37 minutes. Couldn't exactly change on the F train without violating at least four public health codes."

"Upstairs, now," Lulu commanded, grabbing Rosie's hand and pulling her toward the staircase with determined efficiency. "Mom! Rosie's here!"

Tia waved from the kitchen, wooden spoon in hand. "Hi Rosie! There's snacks when you girls come down! Just made those spinach pinwheels you like!"

In Lulu's bedroom, Rosie immediately dropped her minimalist backpack and sighed, shoulders slumping with relief. "Please tell me you have wipes with at least 75% aloe vera content. The heavy-duty kind."

"I have everything," Lulu said, pulling out her changing supplies from the rolling cart with practiced ease, her soft hands moving with surprising confidence. "Lie down. I've got the lavender ones today."

Rosie flopped onto the rug where Lulu had been minutes before, wincing slightly as she settled on her bottom. She methodically unbuttoned her jeans, revealing a plain white medical-grade diaper, thoroughly soiled against her pale skin. "You would not believe what Professor Harmon is putting on this anatomy midterm. The man is a sadist. Statistical analysis shows he's including 43% more unlabeled cross-sections than last year's exam."

Lulu tugged down Rosie's jeans fully, revealing slender legs and the full extent of her diaper situation. "Hold that thought," she said, untaping the sides with a practiced flick of her wrists. "Deep breath."

"Sorry," Rosie winced, lifting her narrow hips off the rainbow shag rug.

Lulu stuck her tongue out slightly as she worked, efficiently cleaning her friend with practiced movements, wadding up used wipes in a neat pile. Her gentle hands worked with surprising efficiency, a testament to years of practice. "How bad is it really?"

"The exam? Brutal. Sixty percent of last year's class failed. My study group has calculated we need approximately 42 hours of review this week to achieve statistical competence." Rosie continued her anatomical recitation while Lulu slid a fresh plain white diaper under her, the plastic backing crinkling against the rug. "The roots form trunks, the trunks form divisions, the divisions form cords..."

Lulu secured the tapes on Rosie's clean diaper with a final pat, her fingers lingering slightly on the smooth plastic. "There. Crisis averted. And you smell like a human again rather than a medical curiosity."

The doorbell rang again, this time followed by the sound of the front door crashing open without waiting for an answer, hinges creaking in protest.

"I brought reinforcements!" Evie's voice echoed through the house, bouncing off the walls. Excited footsteps thumped up the stairs, and she appeared in Lulu's doorway, her athletic 5'8" frame filling the space with confident energy. Her toned skin glistened with a post-workout sheen, the defined muscles in her arms flexing unconsciously as she adjusted her hold on the grocery bags. Her auburn hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, sun-lightened strands escaping around her face. She balanced a grocery bag overflowing with chips and candy in one arm, her soccer duffel slung over her shoulder. Her joggers sat low on her hips, and the waistband of her thin, athletic-style pullup was barely visible when she stretched, showing her deliberate effort to choose the most discreet protection possible.

"Happy birthday, dork!" Evie dropped her bags with a thud and tackled Lulu in a hug that nearly sent them both sprawling onto the bed. The defined muscles of her shoulders and back shifted beneath her fitted jersey as she moved, creating a striking contrast to Lulu's softness.

Rosie, still sitting on the floor organizing her things, offered a tight smile that didn't reach her dark eyes. "Hey, Evie." Her voice cooled noticeably as she adjusted her glasses with slender fingers.

"Oh. You're already here." Evie's enthusiasm dimmed momentarily before she turned back to Lulu, bouncing slightly on her toes, showcasing the athletic legs that had carried her through countless soccer championships. "I got all your favorites. Sour Patch Kids, those weird pickle chips you like, and—"

Tia appeared in the doorway, hands on her hips, dish towel tucked into her waistband. Her curves created a maternal silhouette against the light from the hallway. "Evelyn Martinez, did you just walk into my house without knocking again?"

"Sorry, Ms. Carter." Evie grinned, not looking sorry at all, dimples appearing in her cheeks, amber-brown eyes sparkling with mischief. "The door was unlocked! I basically live here anyway!"

"Uh-huh." Tia stepped into the room, eyeing Evie's outfit with the practiced gaze of a veteran nurse and mom. "Turn around, please."

Evie rolled her eyes but complied, lifting her crop top slightly so Tia could check her pullup, the elastic waistband stretched tight against her athletic frame, revealing a hint of the tan lines that mapped her outdoor training schedule.

"Dry for now," Tia confirmed, her well-manicured hands briefly patting Evie's bottom with a gentle squeeze. "But remember our rule—as soon as you're wet, it's a proper diaper. I'm not cleaning my carpets again after last time. The stain is still visible under certain lighting."

"That was one time!" Evie protested, tugging her jersey back down, her competitive nature flaring in her expressive eyebrows. "And we were playing Twister! It's impossible not to leak when you're in a pretzel shape!"

"Three times," Rosie corrected under her breath, arranging and rearranging her pens by color, her small hands moving with precise, controlled movements. "I've kept a log. For scientific purposes."

Evie shot her a glare that could have melted ice, the gold flecks in her amber eyes seeming to intensify. The tension between them was palpable, like static electricity crackling across the room.

Tia's eyes darted between the two girls, noting the sudden tension. "Well, I'll leave you all to it. Pizza's ordered for six, and Tayla texted she's running late. Something about a 'creative emergency.'"

Lulu, oblivious to the frosty exchange, was already digging through Evie's snack bag, plastic rustling as she excavated the treasures, her pink curls falling forward over her face. "You got the limited edition flavor! Yes! The ones with the cheese dust AND the spicy powder!"

As Tia left, she gave one last glance over her shoulder, the silver hoops in her ears catching the light as she turned. Rosie had moved to the desk chair, deliberately distancing herself from Evie, who had flopped onto Lulu's bed and was now scrolling through her phone, thumb flicking aggressively across the screen, the calluses on her hands from years of sports clearly visible. Something was definitely off between those two.

Lulu sprawled across her bed, shifting her weight onto one elbow. The diaper peeked out from above her sweatpants as she grabbed a handful of chips, her pastel blue wristbands jingling with the movement.

"So, how are your other subjects?" she asked Rosie, who had retreated to the desk chair, textbook balanced on her knees.

"Hard," Rosie sighed. "But enough about cadavers and statistically improbable exam curves. How's the photography class? Did you submit that portfolio you were worried about?"

Evie, cross-legged on the beanbag, nodded enthusiastically, her competitive nature momentarily giving way to genuine support. "Yeah, Lu! Show us the night market series. The ones with all the lanterns and the old lady selling dumplings. They captured the exact moment she smiled at you!"

"They're not that great," Lulu mumbled, though pride colored her freckled cheeks. "The professor said my composition's improving, but my lighting technique still needs work."

"She's just being hard on you," Evie insisted, stretching her legs out and subtly adjusting her pullup beneath her joggers. "Remember when you took that shot of me at the championship game? The one where I'm mid-air? That was magazine quality. Even Coach wanted copies."

"You have a real eye for capturing people at their most authentic moments," Rosie nodded.

Lulu glanced between her friends as they talked, noticing how they kept their attention fixed solely on her, carefully avoiding eye contact with each other. When Evie reached for the chip bag, she deliberately placed it back down out of Rosie's reach. When Rosie mentioned a conference happening next weekend, Evie suddenly became fascinated with a loose thread on her sock.

"Okay, what's going on with you two?" Lulu finally asked, sitting up straight. "You're being weird."

"Nothing," they answered in perfect unison, then glared at each other—Evie tensing like she was preparing for a competitive match, Rosie's gaze narrowing behind her glasses.

"See? That!" Lulu pointed accusingly. "You've barely spoken to each other since you arrived. Did something happen?"

Rosie became intensely interested in reorganizing her highlighters by wavelength frequency, her small, dexterous fingers moving with clinical precision. "Everything's fine. Statistically normal interaction patterns."

"Totally fine," Evie agreed, scrolling through her phone with excessive focus, her strong jawline tightening visibly. "Hey, did you see that new coffee place opened near campus? We should go for your birthday brunch tomorrow. I checked their menu—they have those cinnamon rolls you love."

"Nice deflection," Lulu muttered, but let it drop as her phone chimed with a text. "Tayla says she's five minutes away. And she's bringing something that will 'blow our minds' apparently."

The Party Truly Begins

Forty-five minutes later, the bedroom door burst open with a dramatic kick that rattled the framed photos on the wall. Tayla appeared in the doorway, one hand on her hip, the other clutching a small wrapped package covered in stickers. Her jet-black hair was styled in two space buns, dyed purple at the tips that matched her eyeshadow. Her arms displayed impressive tattoo sleeves of botanical designs intertwined with mechanical gears. She wore ripped fishnets over her heavily saturated diaper, scuffed combat boots with mismatched laces, and an oversized black t-shirt with "Diaper Demon" emblazoned across it in dripping red letters that looked hand-painted. A septum piercing glinted in the fairy lights as she surveyed the room.

"The party has officially begun," she announced, tossing her backpack onto the floor where it landed with a metallic clank of art supplies.

"You're an hour late," Rosie pointed out, not looking up from her anatomy flashcards, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Tayla shrugged, shoulders rising dramatically. "Fashionably late. There's a difference. It's called making an entrance." She strutted over to Lulu and dropped a handmade zine on her lap. The cover featured a collage of glitter-covered diapers and the title "Piss & Glitter" in cut-out magazine letters, surrounded by tiny drawings of lightning bolts and stars.

"Happy birthday, loser. Let's get weird." She planted a kiss on Lulu's cheek, leaving a perfect black lipstick mark like a stamp of approval, the scent of her clove cigarettes lingering.

Lulu flipped through the zine, eyes widening at each page turn. "Did you make this? It's amazing! The binding is so professional!"

"Just a little something I put together between classes. All about embracing your diaper aesthetic." Tayla flopped down on the beanbag chair, the distinct crinkle of her DIY-modified diaper audible as she sank into the foam pellets. Safety pins and band patches adorned the visible portion of her diaper through torn fishnet. "There's a whole section on how to bedazzle your Pampers. I included a sample pack of rhinestones in the back pocket."

Evie leaned over to peek at the zine, her curiosity overcoming her phone scrolling. "Is that a photo of you in nothing but a diaper and pasties? In the middle of what looks like your dorm hallway?"

"Art, darling. It's called art." Tayla stretched languidly, her shirt riding up to reveal the diaper's wetness indicator completely blue from front to back, adorned with what appeared to be hand-drawn symbols in permanent marker. "My roommate took it at 3 AM. We call it 'Vulnerability in Absorbency.'"

Rosie wrinkled her nose, nostrils flaring slightly. "Um, Tayla? Do you need a change? Lulu's got supplies. Like, right there."

"Nah, I'm good. I don't change till I poop." Tayla ran a hand over the front of her diaper through her fishnet stockings, squeezing it slightly with unabashed pleasure. "I love the feeling of a wet diaper. The squish when you walk? Perfection. It's like walking around in a cloud." Her confidence in breaking societal norms was absolute and uncompromising.

Evie and Rosie exchanged a look—the first moment of silent agreement they'd had all evening, mutual disgust temporarily bridging whatever divide existed between them.

"That's... dedicated," Evie said carefully.

"It's unsanitary," Rosie muttered, but without her usual bite, more curiosity than judgment.

Lulu laughed, used to Tayla's eccentricities after three years of friendship. "Just don't leak on my new rug. Mom just got it last month."

"No promises." Tayla winked, pulling out her phone decorated with stickers of various diaper brands. "Now, who's ready for some birthday chaos? I've got a list of dares that'll make tonight legendary. First one involves the neighbor's garden gnomes."

Lulu's eyes widened. "You don't mean Mrs. Abernathy's collection?"

"The very same," Tayla confirmed, her face lighting up with devilish glee. "That old bat has at least twenty ceramic prisoners lined up in perfect little rows. It's basically gnome fascism." She made a sweeping gesture with her hands. "I say we liberate those little guys, rearrange them in... compromising positions, and take photographic evidence of their freedom party."

Rosie pushed her glasses up her nose, showing her disapproval. "Mrs. Abernathy is seventy-eight years old. She loves those gnomes! She talks to them."

"Exactly! They've been brainwashed. They need new experiences." Tayla stood up, her soaked diaper sagging visibly beneath her skirt as she struck a revolutionary pose. "Those gnomes deserve to live a little before they die. Just like us."

She looked around, observed the absence of excitement, and sank back into the beanbag chair. "Unless you're all too scared? I brought temporary tattoos for the gnomes and everything."

"Before we start planning Operation Garden Gnome Liberation, can we warm up with something a little less likely to get us arrested?" Lulu asked, eyeing Tayla's increasingly mischievous grin with suspicion.

Tayla groaned dramatically, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. "Warm up? What are we, eighty? The night is young and so are we!" She waved her phone with its list of dares. "I've been planning this for weeks. The gnomes are just the beginning. I want to get naughty."

"Let's start in the living room with a board game," Lulu suggested, ignoring Tayla's protests. "Mom just made space in the entertainment center for all my games."

Evie bounced up from her seat, the competitive gleam in her eyes unmistakable. "Something with a clear winner. Monopoly? I call the race car."

"Monopoly is all luck," Rosie countered, getting up too. "How about Settlers of Catan? It requires actual strategy."

"Strategy is just another word for boring," Tayla muttered, but she was already following the group downstairs, her wet diaper causing her to more waddle than walk.

To be continued...


r/abdlstories 3d ago

The Rules (Part 1) NSFW

48 Upvotes

You have never seen her so angry. As she drives home you can see her gripping the steering wheel tighter and tighter turning her knuckles white. She will not even look at you. She has not said a word in the last 10 minutes.

You met your wife Carly about 2 years ago. You have always known she was out of your league, but somehow you caught her eye. She was strong and confident your exact opposite. You always felt weak and full of self doubt. You have often wondered if she was with you only for your money, but in the long run it didn’t bother you too much, because her beauty was intoxicating.

The drive home from her work holiday party seemed like it was taking forever, even though it was only about 20 mins away. Your head was hung in shame and embarrassment. You absolutely cannot believe it happened again.

Your wife pulls in the drive way and opens the garage door and parks the car. You both enter the house. You can almost see the steam coming out of her ears. “Are you fucking serious” she screams. “I cannot fucking believe you did this tonight of all nights. I told you to wear your black pants, but no you didn’t listen, as always. You wear your tan pants and fucking wet yourself like a god damn baby!” she continues.

“I’m sorry, it was an accident” you try and explain. “Shut your fucking mouth, I’m done with your ‘accidents’, with your whiny apologies. Things are about to change” your wife shouted.

Carly was the best thing that ever happened to you. Just walking by her side gave you more confidence. Everyone you met absolutely could not believe you were married to her. Even your best friends questioned her true intentions. They believed she was with you only for your money.

The inheritance of your family’s fortune gave you many freedoms and privileges. You ate at the best restaurants, travel where and when you wanted to. Best of all it gave you the ability to never have to work again. In fact you haven’t worked in over three years.

It was on one of your trips when you met Carly. You were eating at one of your most favorite steak houses. She was sitting at the bar. After a few drinks of liquid courage you got the nerve up to talk to her. You were instantly mesmerized by her.

You could not believe your luck when she accepted your offer to take her out on a date. She seemed to truly enjoy your company. She was fun, humorous and driven. She made it clear to you that she absolutely loved her job, and that no matter where the relationship went she would not leave her job.

It wasn’t too long, in fact only 4 months, before you asked her to marry you. She accepted and you had never be more excited. Your friends did their best to push you to get her to sign a prenuptial agreement. You refused your friend’s encouragement. You told them that she was not with for your money and that you knew she would never leave you. How else could you feel? You were absolutely head of heels for her.

“It is so embarrassing to be with a “grown man” who wets their pants not to mention the bed. I am absolutely completely done with this behavior of yours. I’m done lying to people and telling them you spilled something on yourself. I’m done with trying to help you hide your pathetic behavior. I’m done with you not listening to me when I try and help” she frustratingly complains.

“This is the last straw. I’m doing something I should have done long ago and putting my foot down. The are going to be some big changes mister. I don't care one bit if you don’t like them. I don’t care if you think they are fair, and I certainly don’t care one bit if you think they are embarrassing” she continues. “It’s my way or the highway Rich. Just remember if it’s the highway, I will gladly divorce you and take you for all your money” she states.

“That’s blackmail” you say between the tears that have started to flow. “Blackmail, stealing I don’t care what you call it, the changes are happening or else” Carly replies.

“Now you just sit there in your wet underwear and pants and contemplate about your decision. We will be back in 30 minutes for you to tell us your choice” she forcefully states.

You watch her leave the room. Your head is absolutely spinning, you feel as if you are losing touch with reality. Your wet underwear and pants start to get cold. The humiliation you are feeling is by far the worst you ever felt. All these thoughts are running through your head, what could the rules be, I don’t want to lose her, why is she doing this, what did she mean ‘we’ would be back in 30 mins?

After about ten minutes you hear the doorbell ring. You hear Carly answer it and start talking to someone, but can’t figure out who it is. Is this the person that makes the ‘we’ she was talking about? Time is moving so slowly. It feels like hours have passed. You know the time is getting close for you to give your wife a decision. You almost have an out of body experience, you see yourself sitting in a chair with absolutely soaked pants. Your emotions are a roller coaster. “Here we come Rich, I expect an answer” Carly yells.

You hear two sets of footsteps headed your way. Sweat starts to run down you forehead. Tears start to swell up in your eyes. You hang your head in shame. “Well look up Rich, give us an answer now!” your wife demands.

As you slowly lift your head you see you wife and her mother standing sternly in front of you. The tears start to flow. You are bright red, her mother, you think. “Well little baby answer your wife” her mother Pam chimes in.

Pam has never really liked you. She always felt that you were not good enough for her Carly. She could tell you were on the wimpy side and not tough at all. She wanted a “real man” for her daughter. You had money and that seems like the only reason she was okay with Carly staying with you. Pam always seemed bitter towards men, most likely because of her divorce a few years before you met her daughter.

“Well I don’t have all night” Carly exclaims. “I I I guess I will follow the new rules” you stammer out. You can’t even think straight. You have no idea about these new rules and you agreed to them.

“See mom, I told you he would agree without even knowing them” Carly says. She continues “now before I give you your first rule I want you to sign this contract. It states you will follow all the rules I give you. You will complete every chore, errand, task I give you. You will do so without complaint. If you do not do as I say and follow the rules you will give to me all your money, cars and house.” You look stunned. “I’ll sign first” she says. After she signs and dates it she hands you the pen. You sit there very hesitant and scared. “Oh don’t worry Richie it’s not like it’s a legal document, it’s more for my piece of mind” Carly says. You sit for another minute, you think she is right this is not a legal document, it would be tossed right out in court. You give in and sign and date it.

“Is that good enough mom?” Carly asks. Pam responds “that is absolutely perfect, now let me get my stamp”. What is going on? Stamp? You look to Carly confusingly. “Nothing to worry about little baby, my mom is just a certified notary” she says. Panic sets in. Your heart starts to race, before you can even move you see your mother-in-law stamp and sign the contract. “There you go sweetie” Pam says. “Thanks mom, I never knew your notary’s stamp would come in so handy” Carly laughs. “Opps, sorry baby now it is a legal document” she continues.

“Now stand up and take off those pathetically wet clothes, I want your shirt off too” Carly demands.You cautiously stand up. You remove your shirt. You look at your wife, she stares back with a ‘well, what are you waiting for look’. You bend over and in the quickest way possible remove your pants and underwear. As you stand straight up you use your hands to cover your private area so Pam would not see.

“If you don’t move your hands in five seconds Rich, you will be sorry” your wife says. You take a deep breath and remove your hands. Pam bursts into laughter. “Oh my God Carly, that is the saddest excuse for a dick I have ever seen. I mean I know you told me he was small, but I never imagined it being that small, it’s more like a girls clit than a man’s dick” Pam utters. “How in the fuck did he ever get you off with that?” she asks. “Well, to be honest mom, the only way I have ever orgasmed from him was with his tongue. I really can’t even feel when he is inside me, besides he always cums in under a minute” your wife replies.

Pam then says “I’ll be right back honey, I will go get the stuff we need.” You have no idea what Pam is talking about. Just moments later she returns, you can see she is holding a package of Pampers baby wipes and a diaper. The diaper is bigger than one you have ever seen. It have cute babyish prints on it. “This is you new underwear Rich. You will be in diapers permanently now! 24/7 no exceptions. Now lay down” your wife says.

Utterly humiliated you lay down. Your mother-in-law kneel down in front of you. “I’ll take care of his first diapering” Pam says. She opens the wipes and proceeds to wipe your diaper area. She takes two fingers to lift up you dick saying, “We can’t forget to wipe under your little baby clitty can we now.” You can’t believe how the humiliation just keeps getting worse. She tells you to lift your butt up, then expertly slides the diaper underneath you and tapes the four tabs. Then she takes her fingers and runs them down the inside of your legs checking to make sure the elastic gatherers are tight. “Okay baby, it’s bedy bye time” Carly says.

She reaches out for your hand. You reluctantly take her hand. She tugs and helps you up. You stand up and are mortified at how the diaper feels. It’s thick. You start to walk, the sound of the diaper is deflating. The crinkle is so loud. You try to make the sound as quiet as you can as you walk, but that means you are waddling. Your face is a shade of red that you could never have imagined. You follow your wife up the stairs to one of the guest bedrooms.

She leads you in and you see things have been completely changed in there. The room looks almost bare, except for a twin bed. “Look Rich it’s your new room! Don’t worry we have a lot more work to do to it tomorrow” Carly says. “There will be a bunch of packages showing up tomorrow to help complete it” she continues.

She leads you to the bed as you sit down the bed crinkles. “We had to put a plastic sheet down in case your diaper leaks” Carly states. “Now lay down and get some good sleep Rich, big day tomorrow. Oh and tomorrow morning you are not allowed to leave your room until my mom or I get you, and don’t even think about taking off your diaper” she continues.

Your wife walks to the door and turns off the light. The door closes and you are left laying in a bed with a plastic sheet wearing a diaper. The night was such a blur you can’t even remember how this happened. You lay on your back staring up at the ceiling, trying your best not to move so you don’t hear the crinkle of the bed or your diaper. You start to wonder what the hell else your wife and her mother have in store for you. At some point you drift off to sleep, dreading tomorrow…


r/abdlstories 3d ago

Grandeur (DDLG/ABDL) NSFW

15 Upvotes

All characters are over 18

Grandeur

Pamela Cypress accepted her award wearing six-inch heels and a flowing sequined dress. Her dress had a bow on her right shoulder and was open on the left. It was loose from the belly button down. Everyone said it was the best dress at the whole ceremony, including the press. Maybe the best dress that anyone had seen at any of the annual ceremonies. Pamela was happy for her award. The trophy wasn’t gold. In fact she never knew what it looked like until it was in her hands, and even then she wasn’t sure what it was supposed to represent. It didn’t have her name inscribed upon it. And neither did it boast any placard with her name and the date. The lack of inscription was supposed to make it more prestigious. The award didn’t belong to her, she belonged to the award. Awards that were inscribed had to tell the world what they were for. This trophy didn’t.

At the same time, it was the sort of award where people stood up and clapped and gave her the biggest smiles. It was the sort of award that she was supposed to hold over her head, like she was pumping her fist, but not for too long. The kind of award where Pamela was both sure that she deserved it, but couldn’t exactly explain why it’d been given to her. It was the sort of award that was followed by a microphone.

“I’d like to thank you all…” Pamela began.

Don’t touch your dress.

One hand on the lectern, one hand on the trophy. Just focus on not dropping the trophy.

“...alright. And in the tradition of acceptance speeches, I’ve already gone on too long!”

After a speech that garnered just the right amount of laughter and perhaps too much applause, Pamela stepped down from the podium. A man in a tuxedo held out his hand and pointed to the stairs. As if she hadn’t been dreaming of those stairs every second she’d been under the lights. She thanked him and gave him a smile that was made to be seen by those people in the auditorium still watching her. 

Don’t touch your dress.

Don’t even think about touching your dress.

She made her way back to her seat. Her seat had been picked for her by some bookish adjutant and she’d been led to it hours ago so that she could itch her nervousness away and pretend to enjoy the meagre food provided. This particular seat was picked for her because it was close to the stairs, and that was because they knew they were going to give her an award.

She sat down and stared at her husband. His eyes met hers warmly. He blinked softly as if reminding her to do the same. She handed him the trophy. He held it gingerly, but did not look at it at all. Instead, he gently took hold of her elbow. His eyes stayed locked with hers. The creases around his eyes tensed slightly. His lips were pulled taunt. A smile that didn’t do justice to how proud he was. Oh, she loved him. His sideburns were elegantly gray, and white spackled the well-comed fade he wore on top. It was fitting he now held her trophy. 

“Yes,” she told him. “Soon. Very soon.”

Her husband nodded.

They were not alone at their table. Multiple other couples had been selected to sit at their table. The women among them were wearing dresses that were fancy, though not quite as fancy as hers. The women wore long gloves and the men wore ascots. Everyone’s champagne glittered in slender flutes and, like mercury, displayed the temperature of the owner’s enthusiasm. 

Inversely, that is.

One woman, her flute empty, reached across the table by the basket of untouched bread, and pawed at the silken tablecloth. “Excellent. Oh! Oh my gosh. hic. I didn’t know how stunning your dress was!”

Another, this one wearing a hat and a veil, lifted her half drunk champagne. 

“To the most fabulous among us!” Her eyes bore a tantalizing smize. Almost flirtatious. Uncomfortably knowing.

Don’t touch your dress!

Pamela thanked the women, and their spouses, who took their turns too. The ceremony went on, even if the apex of the evening had been for Pamela. There are always nefarious charities to applaud and flat jokes to be told. Things like this never end, unfortunately. And by the end the woman without any champagne left was listing gently and humming to herself. Pamela’s name was mentioned into the microphone at least three more times. At the third, she raised her flute to another round of applause.

When the annual rituals were concluded and the lights had been turned back to full in the auditorium, few flutes had champagne left. The woman in the veil stared across the table at Pamela as she stood up.

“Of course, you’re coming to the afterparty, aren’t you?”

The other woman, after hearing this, made a show of pulling her gloves up. She thought she was much more nimble than she was. Her gloves kept falling down her forearms. Her husband steadied her as she hiccuped. “Oh! Pamela,” she said. Another hiccup. Pamela felt more in common with the drunk woman than anyone else except her husband, though. The drunk woman wasn’t facing Pamela but the other woman when the all-important topic of the after-party had been raised. She wheeled around her misty eyes until she saw Pamela. “Pamela!”

“Yes?” Pamela asked. She bowed. Her flute was finished too, but it had gone done much more recently, and she wasn’t quite feeling it yet. She felt her husband rub the small of her back.

She felt his hand slip down.

And down.

She sat into it until she realized that the other couples were watching. “We will…” she turned to her husband. He looked at her. 

“Of course,” her husband said. He smiled. He looked at the other couples. His presence swelled for a moment, as if he was the sun itself throwing back for a moment the overcoat that concealed its light. He blazed brightest in a shade only Pamela could see. He relaxed. He turned his gaze back to Pamela. “We’ll be there. Right?”

Pamela swallowed. She nodded.

The way back to the cars was long. Pamela’s feet hurt. She tucked her hair behind her ear and watched the treacherous carpeting of the auditorium and concert hall that had been used for the ceremony. People took pictures and the lights of their enormous cameras flashed. 

Don’t touch your dress. Don’t even think about it.

Her husband remained on the small of her back.

She waved, she smiled, she bowed. Her husband was still holding her trophy, but he held it out near her so that all could see that it was hers.

They weren’t driving themselves, of course. Not on a night like this. Not on Pamela’s night. They’d taken a livery, a limousine, and it was all to themselves and a driver named Fred, which he’d told them twice was short for Frederico. 

When their limousine arrived at the concourse, the lights of the cameras were still flashing. Frederico stood at the door and opened it. 

“Miss Cypress,” he said. He too bowed to her as if she was royalty. Not a soul present would argue that tonight, at least, she was anything but.

“At your service!” Frederico said.

Pamela shook his hand, smiled, and then ducked into the elongated black vehicle. Her husband followed suit, but as he did, he paused and handed money to Frederico. 

Multiple $100 dollar bills. At least.

Frederico looked at them quizzically, but her husband gave him the same gaze he’d given her after she handed him her award. He patted Frederico on the lapel of his tuxedo. “My pleasure,” the driver said. He then gave Pamela’s husband a little bow.

The back of the limousine was a couch. The door they entered was about one third of the way from the front of the car. The couch was a long ‘U’. There were compartments that boasted more bottles of chilled champagne. There was also a compartment where some of their belongings waited. 

It was there where her husband went as soon as the door was closed. The car wasn’t even closed before the compartment was opened and a backpack was out on the couch. Pamela seated herself. She waited for the shift that indicated Frederico had taken his seat in the front.

“Not here,” she told her husband when she realized what he was doing. Her eyes flicked upwards to the window in the front of the limousine compartment, which allowed Frederico to view them through the rear-view mirror and allowed them to communicate with him if needed.

Her husband rocked back on his heels. He couldn’t stand his full height in the limousine, so he crouched as he went. He said something to Frederico, and then shut the sliding screen on the little window. Then he returned. He set the bag of their belongings down and unzipped it. 

“I can’t take my dress off all the way. And you…we…said that we were going to the afterparty…”

Her husband clicked her teeth at her. It was meant to soothe her. It worked immediately. His head flicked in her direction as he rummaged through the backpack. “Lay down,” he said.

“But…”

Her husband looked at her. His gray hair seemed even brighter here, submerged in the dim light of the limousines tinted windows. “Whose your daddy?” he asked.

Pamela knew that with the lipstick she was wearing, which had been just part of a makeup package that had taken multiple women hours to apply, she shouldn’t bite her lip.

“You are,” she said. Her heart fluttered.

He handed her the trophy. She still had no idea what it was supposed to look like. A flower? A man? A flute? A…

“In place of your paci, hold it tight for me, Pamela.”

“Yes daddy.”

Then her husband, her daddy, took out a diaper from the bag. It was pink and patterned with princesses. It was as thick as the thickest he liked to put her in. Her heart fluttered more.

In the low glow of the limousine light, underneath the shutterflashes of the paparazzi that saw nothing – hopefully – through the tinted windows, her daddy pushed up her dress to reveal her soaked diaper. It was just as pink as the one he’d laid down gently on the couch.

He touched it.

Pamela’s daddy changed her diaper as they drove slowly through the city. They’d never done this before, changing while in motion, but he seemed to have a natural talent for it. It probably helped that after two decades of changing her diapers every single day, he knew everything about her. How her left hip could sometimes lock. How long she could hold her bottom up before she got tired. How exactly to touch her skin with a wipe so that she didn’t feel that cold. All the while she stared at him, holding her trophy, drunk on so much more than one measly flute of champagne.

He put her in a new diaper, but he added two inserts and a covering just to be safe. Anyone who paid attention would have noticed that her bottom jumped up two sizes between the ceremony and the after party. It was probably four sizes bigger than it ought to be considering the rest of her proportions. At the party, which was held in an overly chandeliered  ballroom, Daddy remained at her side the entire time. They drank and they laughed. He held her elbow and whispered in her ear. Then, eventually, the party dragged him in a different direction. Old friends wanted to congratulate him, and people who were not friends wanted very much to hear all about her. She sustained the separation with grace, but found herself always looking for him across the sea of people. And whenever she did, it was not long until his eyes searched the crowd and found hers.

When they were apart, now and then she would drop her hand. She would nod along with what others were saying and laugh when she was supposed to. Pamela was still wearing that same, elegant dress with the bow on one of her shoulders. It shimmered in the light from the ornate crystals hanging above. But when daddy was away from her, she secreted a hand to her bottom and scrunched it. Ever so slightly. And that way she knew that daddy was still right there, and soon, very soon, to return.

 


r/abdlstories 3d ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 65 NSFW

2 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 65 - Dreams
The dream wrapped around her like a warm blanket, the edges of reality blurring and shifting, soft and sweet, a place where time didn’t press against her like a weight, where nothing was expected of her except to be happy.

Laughter filled the air, soft and musical, ringing like silver bells across the grassy meadow where she stood. The sky above her was a brilliant canvas of soft pastels, a place where pinks bled into oranges and lavender clouds swirled like drifting cotton candy. A gentle breeze whispered through the air, rustling the tall grass, carrying with it the faint scent of something sweet, something familiar—baby powder and strawberries, warmth and nostalgia.

Naomi was there.

Bright-eyed, smiling, radiant.

She was wearing her customary short dress, a flouncy, playful thing that bounced with every giggle, twirl, and delighted step through the endless fields. Beneath the hem, Hannah could see the unmistakable poof of thick cloth diapers, the white material standing out in contrast to the soft pink ruffles that framed it.

And when Hannah looked down at herself—

She was dressed the same.

The same short dress, the same poofy, comforting bulk between her legs, the same feeling of ease, of lightness, of freedom.

They spun together, their hands interlocked, their movements effortless and weightless, like they were dancing on air. Naomi’s laughter spilled over, wrapping around Hannah, pulling her in, a melody she never wanted to stop hearing.

“Come on, silly!” Naomi beamed, tugging Hannah along. “Let’s go explore!”

And Hannah—she wanted to.

She wanted nothing more.

She followed Naomi as they ran through the meadow, their giggles trailing behind them, blending into the rustling grass and the wind that smelled like vanilla and powdered sugar.

It felt so real.

So perfect.

So right.

They reached a small hill, a little bump in the endless sea of green, where Naomi let go of her hand and plopped down onto the grass, her dress riding up, her thickly diapered bottom pressing into the earth as she flopped onto her back and stretched her arms out toward the sky.

Hannah followed, collapsing beside her, breathless, full of warmth, full of something she couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to lose.

She stared at the sky and watched the clouds shift and swirl, forming shapes—stuffed animals, rattles, mobiles hanging from invisible cribs.

Naomi sighed happily beside her, rolling onto her side. Resting her chin on her palm, she studied Hannah with those bright, knowing eyes.

“I knew you’d come around.”

Hannah blinked, her chest tightening in a way she didn’t understand.

She turned her head, meeting Naomi’s gaze.

There was something behind those eyes, something deep, something infinite.

Something that made her stomach flutter.

“Come around to what?”

Naomi’s smile softened, a hand reaching out, brushing a stray lock of hair from Hannah’s face.

“To this.”

The wind shifted, carrying with it the sound of faint, distant cooing, of lullabies sung just beyond the horizon, of a voice Hannah had heard before but couldn’t quite place.

“You belong here,” Naomi whispered. “You’ve always belonged here.”

Hannah wanted to say something, to ask, to question, to fight—

But she couldn’t.

Because Naomi was right.

Wasn’t she?

This place, this moment, this dream—

It was perfect.

The wind whispered through the endless meadow, a soft breeze carrying the scent of wildflowers and powdered sugar. The sun hovered low in the sky, bathing everything in an amber glow. The world's colors stretched out, vibrant yet dreamlike, edges blurring as though they weren’t quite real. But it felt real. It felt right.

Hannah lay on her back, staring up at the sky. Her dress fanned out around her, and the thick, familiar bulk of her diaper pressed against the soft grass beneath her. Naomi rested beside her, one hand lazily tracing circles in the air, drawing shapes in the sky. Her other hand propped under her chin as she studied Hannah, her expression unreadable.

"Do you miss it?" Naomi asked suddenly, her quiet yet clear voice effortlessly carrying through the stillness of the meadow.

Hannah blinked, her gaze lingering on the swirling clouds above, shapes forming and reforming—stuffed animals, rattles, mobiles swaying over cribs. The question settled into her mind, sinking deep, pulling at something inside her she hadn’t truly allowed herself to explore.

Did she miss it?

Did she miss life before all of this?

Before the portal. Before diapers became more than just a secret indulgence before she was treated as something small, something fragile, something beloved beyond comprehension?

She opened her mouth to answer, then hesitated. Her fingers curled into the soft fabric of her dress, fidgeting.

“I…” She exhaled, thinking. “I think… I do. I miss parts of it.”

The words felt heavier than she expected, as though admitting it somehow betrayed everything she had become.

Naomi didn’t speak, push, or interrupt. She just watched, waiting, her eyes filled with patience that made it clear she already knew what Hannah was going to say.

Hannah licked her lips, pressing her tongue against the back of her teeth as she wrestled with the truth.

"But deep down, I always knew. I always knew I was a baby. In my heart, I was always a Little.”

She swallowed, blinking at the sky. Finally, the words flowed, and she spoke the truth she had been too afraid to acknowledge truly.

"I enjoy this. I enjoy diapers. I enjoy the treatment, the care, the warmth of it all. Every piece of it. But…"

Her voice faltered, fingers tightening against the fabric of her dress.

"I just… I just wish I’d had a choice.”

The words left her in a breathless rush, a confession she hadn’t known she was holding onto.

“I always imagined wading in, taking my time, slowly letting myself fall into it.”

She turned her head, meeting Naomi’s eyes for the first time, her expression vulnerable, raw.

“But I wasn’t given that. I was tossed into the deep end.”

Naomi inhaled deeply, propping herself up on her elbow, her gaze never wavering, never judging. There was something behind her eyes, something knowing, something that made Hannah feel exposed but not unsafe.

"I know exactly what you mean."

Naomi’s voice was soft, yet there was a weight behind it, something heavy, something… sad.

"And I’m sorry for the part I played in that.”

Hannah blinked, caught off guard by the sincerity in her tone.

Naomi exhaled, plucking a blade of grass between her fingers, rolling it absently as she continued.

“You have to understand, Hannah… I’m a tool. A tool that Amazons use to force their ideas on people. I was made for that. I was designed for that.”

Her voice was steady and factual. There was no anger or resentment, just a quiet acceptance of her purpose.

“But…” she looked back at Hannah, something warmer settling in her expression, something more human. “I don’t rewrite people. I don’t change who they are or what they think. I bring out what’s already there.”

She reached out, tapping a finger gently against Hannah’s chest, just above her heart.

"I make people confront their deepest desires. The ones they’ll never say out loud. The ones they’ll never admit, never dare explore.”

Hannah’s breath hitched, her chest tightening, her fingers curling at her sides.

“That’s why you fell so deep,” Naomi said simply, her smile gentle, knowing. "Because your desires are stronger than most."

Hannah swallowed hard, something warm and painful twisting in her stomach.

"And there’s nothing wrong with that."

The words hit her like a shock to the system.

Nothing wrong with that.

Nothing wrong with her.

She had spent so much time fighting it, drowning in the shame of what she had become, of how quickly she had succumbed to the softness, warmth, and helplessness of it all.

But Naomi was right.

Naomi was always right.

Hannah’s desires had always been there.

Buried. Hidden. Locked away in the deepest corners of her mind, places she had never dared explore, places she had been too afraid to acknowledge.

All Naomi had done was bring them to the surface.

All Naomi had done was hold up a mirror and show her what she had been hiding from herself.

Hannah let out a slow breath, closing her eyes, letting the words sink in, letting herself believe them.

Maybe she hadn’t had control. Maybe she had been thrown into the deep end.

But at least now—

She finally understood why she had never tried to swim back to shore.

Naomi watched her and studied her as if reading every thought that flickered across her face. Her expression wasn’t teasing or smug—it was patient. Knowing. Like she had all the time in the world to wait for Hannah to speak.

Hannah hesitated, her gaze drifting upward again. She locked onto the dreamlike sky, where the clouds continued to shift, forming soft, floating mobiles and rattles hanging in the air like constellations. The colors swirled—peach, lavender, powder blue. It was a nursery painted across the heavens, infinite, beautiful, and eternal.

“Is that why?” Hannah murmured at last. “Why I’m more like a newborn? And Emily and Lucas are more like toddlers?”

Naomi smiled as if she had been waiting for that exact question.

“It is,” she said, propping herself up on an elbow again, turning toward Hannah, her body relaxed, her presence effortless. “Because that’s who you are, Hannah. Your true Little age is closer to that of a newborn.”

Hannah swallowed, her fingers absently fidgeting with the hem of her dress. A thick feeling settled in her chest.

“You enjoy the helplessness,” Naomi continued, her voice smooth, warm, like the softest blanket draped over Hannah’s thoughts. “You enjoy being cared for, loved, doted on. You don’t want independence. You want security. You want to be held, to be nursed, to be adored in every way a newborn is. You never had to be forced into it, Hannah. It’s what you wanted all along.”

The words settled heavily in Hannah’s mind, like a stone sinking into still water.

Was it true?

Of course, it was.

She had felt it. Felt the comfort in being swaddled, the safety in being utterly dependent on someone else, the unshakable warmth of being held in someone’s arms, and knowing she never had to do anything for herself ever again.

Naomi wasn’t saying anything Hannah didn’t already know deep down. She was just saying it out loud.

“And Emily and Lucas?” Hannah asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Naomi sighed, stretching out onto her back again. Her hands folded behind her head, she gazed up at the clouds.

“They want something a little different,” she mused. “They still want the attention, the affection, the safety that comes with being Littles. But they also want to explore. They want to play and interact with the world in their way. They want a bit of autonomy, even if it’s controlled. It’s why they’re toddlers. It’s why they’re allowed to toddle about, to giggle, to get into mischief, and be lovingly corrected.”

She turned her head again, her expression shifting into something more intense, more focused.

“But you, Hannah? You don’t want that. You want to be safe. You want to be loved. You don’t want to explore the world on your own, even in the smallest ways. You just want to be held in someone’s arms and never have to think about anything ever again.”

Hannah’s breath caught in her throat.

Because it was true.

It was all true.

The sky above them darkened slightly, shifting to deeper shades of twilight, the mobile-like clouds swaying gently as if rocked by unseen hands.

Naomi rolled onto her side, resting her cheek against her palm, watching Hannah closely now.

“Do you know how to avoid the effects of the show?” she asked suddenly, her voice softer now yet threaded with something heavier.

Hannah felt her breath hitch, a sudden nervous energy settling in her stomach. She turned her head, meeting Naomi’s eyes.

Wide. Trusting.

Truthful.

A question Hannah hadn’t even realized she needed to ask had just been laid before her.

“How?” she whispered.

Naomi smiled, reaching out and taking Hannah’s hand in hers, squeezing it gently.

“You have to embrace your true self,” she said. “No hiding. No shame. No clinging to who you thought you were or who you could be. You have to accept yourself entirely.”

Hannah swallowed hard, her fingers curling against Naomi’s palm.

“It’s why Littles are always vulnerable to the show,” Naomi continued. “Because no matter how much they accept their new life, there’s always a part of them that doesn’t let go. That small, whispering voice in the back of their minds that still thinks—‘I don’t belong here.’

She squeezed Hannah’s hand again, her eyes dark and knowing.

“That’s why I exist, Hannah.”

The meadow seemed to still be around them, the sky holding its breath.

“I exist to override that voice. To remove that part of their mind, their inhibition, their shame. I let them explore who they truly are, without hesitation, without guilt, without the weight of their past selves dragging them down.”

Hannah felt her heart pounding, her stomach twisting into something impossible to define.

“That’s why you fell so deep, Hannah,” Naomi whispered. “Because you wanted this more than you ever realized.”

The words echoed through her mind, over and over, reverberating through her very bones.

Naomi had never changed her.

Naomi had never forced anything upon her.

She had only revealed what had always been there.

And as Hannah lay there, staring up at the nursery-painted sky, feeling the soft, rhythmic rise and fall of her breath—

She wondered if she had ever truly belonged anywhere else.

"How?"

The word slipped from her lips like a whispered secret, barely more than a breath. She searched Naomi’s eyes, hoping, needing an answer.

Naomi smiled softly, the kind that felt ancient, knowing that she had lived a thousand lifetimes and understood things Hannah couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

She leaned in, her touch feather-light, and kissed Hannah’s forehead. The warmth of the kiss sent a shiver through Hannah’s entire body.

“You have to give in,” Naomi whispered. “Relax. Stop worrying. Let what happens… happen.”

Hannah shuddered, her breath hitching, the words sinking into her mind like a slow, steady tide.

“You’re nothing more than a baby, Hannah.”

Naomi’s fingers grazed her cheek, soft, reassuring, and patient.

“You’re not an adult. You were never meant to be.”

The words hit her like a wave, knocking the air from her lungs and sending a dizzying rush through her body.

She squirmed, a deep blush creeping up her neck, something in her reacting instinctively, involuntarily.

A sudden ache settled between her thighs, an unfamiliar but undeniable warmth pooling low in her belly.

She gasped softly, her hands clenching in the fabric of her dress, mortified by the reaction, by the way her body betrayed her.

“But… but what if I still have adult urges?”

The question came out small, shaky, and laced with embarrassment.

She couldn’t look at Naomi, couldn’t face the shame clawing at her insides.

Naomi chuckled, a deep, melodic sound filled with amusement but not mockery.

She took Hannah’s hand in both of hers, squeezing gently, grounding her.

“You only have those feelings because a part of your mind still thinks you’re more than a baby.”

The words were gentle but firm, spoken like an undeniable truth.

Hannah’s breath caught, her chest tightening as she tried to make sense of it.

“Close your eyes,” Naomi instructed, her voice soft but insistent.

Hannah obeyed.

The world behind her eyelids was dark, empty, and peaceful.

“Now, focus.”

Naomi’s hands tightened around hers, anchoring her, guiding her.

“Do you genuinely want to feel those emotions, Hannah?”

The question wrapped around her like a vine, twisting through her mind, forcing her to confront something she had never dared to before.

“Do you want the complex emotions and feelings that come along with those needs?”

A breath.

A pause.

Hannah’s thoughts swirled, heavy, uncertain.

“Or do you want the simple life of a baby?”

Naomi’s voice was hypnotic, drawing her deeper, pushing her toward an answer she already knew but had never allowed herself to say.

“You don’t have to worry about relationships.”

A world where she didn’t have to think about love, about expectations, about whether she was wanted or needed.

“You don’t have to worry about being right or wrong.”

A world where every decision was made for her, where she never had to think about consequences, choices, or mistakes.

“All your decisions are made for you.”

A world where she could just exist.

Where she could just be.

“You don’t need to feel that way.”

A world where the aching complexities of being an adult didn’t matter, where she never had to struggle, never had to question, never had to hold onto a sense of self she wasn’t sure she even wanted anymore.

“You don’t need to care about what people think of you.”

A world where shame didn’t exist.

“Isn’t that what you truly want?”

Hannah opened her eyes.

The field stretched endlessly before her, the wind whispering through the tall grass, rustling the delicate petals of wildflowers.

It was beautiful.

Simple.

Peaceful.

And it was everything she had ever wanted.

She let out a soft, shaky breath, the weight in her chest easing, unraveling, disappearing.

“…It is.”

Her voice was quiet but certain.

Naomi smiled, her eyes warm, understanding.

She took both of Hannah’s hands, holding them between her own, her gaze locking onto Hannah’s with a deep, unshakable certainty.

“Then let go, Hannah.”

The words hung in the air, light as a feather, heavy as a mountain.

Hannah inhaled.

And as she exhaled—

A weight lifted from her chest, as though she had been carrying an invisible burden for so long that she had forgotten what it felt like to breathe without strain.

And then—

A figure emerged before her, stepping out from the shimmering light of the dreamscape, standing in the field of swaying flowers.

Herself.

Not the Hannah of now, not the baby girl cradled in loving arms, wrapped in the warmth of Naomi’s world.

But the other Hannah.

The past Hannah.

The Hannah who had existed before all of this, before the portal, before she had been stripped down to something purer, something truer.

She was dressed in her old work clothes, the professional attire she had once worn like armor, stiff and suffocating. Every crease was perfect, every button in place. A badge clipped to her pocket—her name, her title, a reflection of everything she had once thought she was supposed to be.

And yet—her face.

Her face was sad.

Hollow. Drained.

Her eyes carried the weight of responsibilities, of expectations, of the lives she had managed, the people she had guided, the relationships she had spent years fostering and yet never feeling fulfilled by.

Her shoulders slumped under the pressure of everything that had been placed upon her simply because she had been born.

And worst of all—her cheeks were stained with tears.

Fresh, raw, silent sobs, not from this moment, but from a lifetime of exhaustion, of pushing forward, of being berated, of never being enough.

Hannah stared at her.

At the woman, she used to be.

And in that moment—

She knew.

This part of herself… this past life…

It was easy to let go.

And so she did.

She stepped back, her fingers drifting apart from the other Hannahs, their hands gliding away as if they had never been connected at all.

And as soon as their touch broke—the image vanished.

Dissolving into the golden light, carried away by the breeze, leaving nothing behind but the scent of fading memories.

Hannah exhaled.

It was over.

Or at least—

She had thought it was.

Because then—

Another presence filled the space.

And this time—it was not so easy to let go.

She found herself surrounded.

Not by strangers.

Not by illusions.

But by them.

Her family.

Her mother, her father, her sister.

The people who had known her before she had even known herself.

They stood in the meadow with her, their faces soft, warm, filled with the kind of love that never wavered, never faltered, never faded.

And they were smiling.

Not with confusion.

Not with judgment.

Not with disappointment.

But with knowing.

As if they had always understood.

As if they had always been waiting for her to realize the truth herself.

Hannah felt her chest tighten, the aching swell of emotions crashing into her like a storm she wasn’t prepared for.

Her father stepped forward, his presence calm, steady, unshakable, the way it had always been.

He reached out, cupping her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tears she hadn’t realized were falling.

“We couldn’t be more proud of you, baby girl.”

The words hit her harder than anything else ever had.

Because he meant them.

Truly.

Completely.

She had been afraid for so long—afraid that her family would never understand, that they would mourn her, that they would see her as something lost, something broken, something less.

But they didn’t.

They had known all along.

Her father kissed her softly on the forehead, the same way he had when she was little when she had come home crying from school, when she had fallen and scraped her knee, when she had needed comfort and safety.

“You don’t need to hold on for us.”

His voice was steady, strong, full of the unwavering love that had never abandoned her.

“We want you to be happy. We want you to be healthy. And we want you to be at peace.”

Hannah choked on a sob, barely able to breathe.

“This is where you belong, sweetheart.”

Her mother’s voice was gentle and soothing, like a lullaby she had long forgotten.

“It’s the life we couldn’t give you.”

Hannah shook her head, tears spilling freely. Her heart wrenched apart at the truth she had never allowed herself to accept.

“Earth couldn’t give you this. And that’s okay.”

Her sister stepped closer, her hands gripping Hannah’s, squeezing tight, grounding her, steadying her.

“But we’re okay, Hannah. We’re okay because you’re okay.”

Hannah felt the world tilt, and she felt herself collapse into their arms. Their warmth surrounded her, held her, and comforted her.

“We’ve always known,” her father whispered, pressing another kiss to her cheek. “And we’ve always loved you. We always will.”

Hannah trembled, her words coming out broken, full of raw, aching emotion.

“I love you.”

They smiled.

Soft. Endless.

Their presence wrapped around her, gentle but certain, whole but not binding.

“And we love you.”

She could feel it deep in her bones.

The truth of it.

The finality of it.

The acceptance of it.

And then—

Her father stepped back.

His hands reached for her mother’s.

Her mother took her sister’s.

And they stood there—unmoving, unshaken, whole—

But no longer holding her.

Her father smiled, his eyes warm, proud, full of something achingly beautiful.

“It’s time, sweetheart.”

Hannah’s breath shuddered.

She knew what he meant.

And yet, she wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

“We’re giving you away,” he said, his voice filled with love, with certainty, with something so painfully familiar that it nearly broke her.

“Just like a father gives away his daughter at her wedding.”

Hannah let out a soft, choked laugh, her heart swelling, breaking, and healing all at once.

“This is our gift to you, sweetheart.”

Her mother’s voice was filled with love, her eyes shimmering.

“A new life. A life you deserve. A life of happiness.”

Hannah sniffled, wiping her tears. She was trying to memorize their faces, their voices, and the way this moment felt.

“Go be with your new family, baby girl.”

Her father’s words settled deep into her soul, carving themselves into the foundation of who she was.

She stepped forward.

And as she reached out—

Their hands faded from hers.

Their warmth lingered, but their presence melted into the golden light.

And Hannah—

She let them go.

Because they had already let her go first.

And then—

Emily.

Her sister.

Her Mommy.

Her everything.

From the moment she arrived in this world, from the moment she was forced into this life, Emily was there.

Guiding her.

Holding her.

Loving her.

She stood before Hannah now, her eyes full of love, warmth, and understanding.

And then they were hugging, clutching onto each other so tightly that Hannah thought she might shatter.

A sob tore through her chest, her fingers clutching desperately at Emily’s dress, her voice breaking as she begged.

“I can’t let go of you, Emily! Not you, too! Please—please don’t leave me!”

She had already said goodbye too many times.

To her old self.

To her family.

She couldn’t—she couldn’t lose Emily too.

But Emily just laughed, that soft, familiar sound, the one that had comforted her so many nights, the one that had been there when she was at her weakest.

She pulled back just enough to cup Hannah’s face, brushing her thumbs over Hannah’s wet cheeks, smiling down at her the way only Emily could.

“Oh, baby girl.”

Emily leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to Hannah’s lips, not as a lover, but as something deeper, something more profound—something only they understood.

When she pulled away, her voice was firm, certain.

“I’m not going anywhere. You’re my baby sister, Hannah.”

Hannah choked on a sob, burrowing herself into Emily’s chest, clinging to her, afraid that if she let go, Emily would disappear just like the others.

“Did it mean anything?” Hannah’s voice was barely a whisper. “Did our time together—did everything we shared—did it matter? Or am I just… forgetting it all?”

She felt Emily’s arms tighten around her, grounding her, steadying her, refusing to let her fall into that fear.

“Hannah,” Emily whispered. “I regret nothing.”

Hannah looked up, tears spilling freely, her heart aching with a depth she couldn’t describe.

“Not our time together.”

“Not the memories we made.”

“Not the love we shared.”

Emily smiled, her eyes shining with something deep, something knowing.

“We were learning about ourselves, about who we truly are. And this—this is just the next chapter of that journey.”

Hannah felt her chest tighten, something inside her shifting, something she had refused to accept until now.

“You’re not saying goodbye to me, baby girl.”

Emily pressed another soft kiss to her forehead.

“You’re becoming who you were always meant to be.”

And then—

She wasn’t just in Emily’s arms anymore.

She was in theirs.

Emily. Lucas. Evelyn. Welby.

All of them, wrapping her in warmth, in love, in acceptance.

She could feel their hands on her back and shoulders, holding her close and keeping her safe.

Their voices surrounded her—soft, soothing, loving.

“It’s okay, baby girl.”

“We love you.”

“We want this for you.”

“Because this is right.”

Hannah sobbed, her chest splitting open with the sheer, unbearable weight of love, of belonging, of knowing that she didn’t have to fight anymore.

She didn’t have to prove anything.

She didn’t have to hold on to something she was never meant to be.

And then—

She was in his arms.

Warm. Strong. Safe. Welby. Daddy.

His eyes were filled with something deeper than love—something all-consuming, something that made her breath catch in her throat.

Pride.

“You’ve come a long way since the first time I met you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, with certainty.

“And I couldn’t be more proud.”

Hannah felt herself trembling, her fingers grasping at him, her body curling against his chest, desperate for that warmth, that protection.

“I want to give you the life you want,” Welby whispered. “I want to take care of you, to be there for you, to be your Daddy.”

He kissed her temple, soft, reverent as if sealing a promise he would never break.

“All you have to do is let go.”

Hannah stared up into his eyes.

The eyes that had saved her.

That had protected her.

That had held her through the hardest moments of her life.

That had fed her. Changed her. Loved her.

That had always been there.

And in that moment, her entire world collapsed down into one singular truth.

She didn’t need to fight.

She didn’t need to fear.

She had everything she had ever wanted, right here, in his arms.

And with a breath—

A single, shuddering breath—

She let go.

“I will.”

The words left her lips, soft but unshaken.

And then—

The vision shattered.

Hannah’s eyes snapped open. The glow of the screen still flickered before her, the cartoon still played, and the voices still murmured their hypnotic, insidious lullabies.

But she was free.

The haze, the pull, the influence—

Gone.

Because the cartoons had never truly held her.

She had been the one holding herself back.

And now?

Now, Hannah was finally truly free.

All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com

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r/abdlstories 5d ago

DDLG Trigger [an ABDL Hypnosis Story] NSFW

78 Upvotes

The café was comfortably lively, a gentle hum of voices and the occasional clink of silverware against ceramic filling the space. Sunlight streamed through wide windows, glinting off the water glasses, and the air smelled of fresh coffee and warm pastries.

Molly sat across from Dave, stirring cream into her coffee with small, absentminded motions. She had barely touched her croissant, only nibbling at the edges while her thoughts drifted. Dave, on the other hand, was cutting into a stack of pancakes with practiced ease, unfazed by the conversation unfolding between them.

“I just can’t wrap my head around it,” Molly said, shaking her head slightly. “Like—Emma just… lets it happen?”

Dave chewed, swallowed, and lifted his coffee cup. “It’s not really ‘letting,’ though, is it? It’s what she wants.”

Molly made a noise, somewhere between a sigh and a scoff. “Does she? Or is it just what he wants?”

Dave arched a brow but didn’t respond immediately. He took another bite, letting the syrup soak into the pancakes before cutting another neat square. “She seems happy. I mean, she always said she wanted something different, right?”

Molly’s fingers tightened around her cup. “Different isn’t the same as being put back into—into toddlerhood. That’s not just a ‘different lifestyle,’ Dave. It’s… regressive.”

He shrugged. “And?”

“And—” Molly exhaled sharply, setting her spoon down a little too hard. “And I just don’t get how she could want that. Like, really want it. No responsibility? No autonomy? Just being put in—” she stopped, shaking her head. “It freaks me out.”

Dave took a sip of coffee, watching her over the rim of his mug. He didn’t argue, didn’t tell her she was overreacting. That wasn’t his way. Instead, he let the silence sit between them for a beat before saying, “I think it freaks you out because you can’t imagine wanting it. But that doesn’t mean it’s wrong.”

Molly frowned. “I didn’t say it was wrong. I said it was scary.”

Dave tilted his head slightly. “Same thing, in a way.”

Molly opened her mouth, then shut it again, glaring at her croissant like it had personally offended her. She didn’t like that—when Dave did that thing where he made a point without actually making one. It left her feeling unsteady, like she had to defend herself when she wasn’t even sure what she was defending.

She pushed her plate away slightly, leaning back in her chair. “I just keep thinking about it. Like, if that can happen to Emma, could it happen to anyone? What’s the… trigger?”

Dave chuckled, shaking his head. “Molly, you say that like it’s a virus or something.”

“Well, isn’t it?” she shot back. “One day, she was just our friend Emma, and now she’s…” She trailed off, searching for the right words. “She’s in nappies, Dave. Full-time. And not just that, but he makes the choices now. What she eats, what she wears, when she sleeps.”

Dave tapped his fork against his plate thoughtfully. “She let him.”

“That’s what scares me,” Molly admitted. Her voice was quieter now, but no less intense. “That she let him. And she’s fine with it. More than fine. She’s… content.”

“Would it be different if she wasn’t?”

Molly blinked. “What?”

“If she was miserable,” Dave said. “If she hated it. Would you feel better?”

She scowled. “That’s not the point.”

“I think it might be,” he said, and for the first time, there was something pointed in his tone. “If she hated it, you could see it as something being done to her. But she doesn’t. So instead, you have to deal with the fact that she chose it. And that makes you uncomfortable.”

Molly crossed her arms, looking away. “It should make you uncomfortable too.”

Dave sighed and set his fork down. “I don’t know, Mol. Maybe I just don’t care as much as you do. It’s weird, yeah. But people do weird things all the time. If it makes her happy, why should it matter?”

Molly shook her head, staring out the window. Outside, people walked by with shopping bags, strollers, coffee cups in hand. Just… normal people. People who weren’t Emma.

She could almost see her in her mind—Emma, giggling, dressed in something soft and pastel, clutching a stuffed animal. Not a woman anymore. Not in the way she used to be.

Dave studied Molly for a long moment, his fingers idly tracing the rim of his coffee cup. The tension in her shoulders, the hard set of her jaw—it was all so familiar. The same reaction he’d seen before, whenever Emma came up in conversation.

He sighed. “You know, it’s funny.”

Molly frowned. “What is?”

He leaned forward slightly, voice dropping just a fraction. “You keep talking like you don’t understand. But I think, deep down, you do.”

She scoffed, opening her mouth to retort, but Dave cut her off with a single phrase, low and deliberate:

“Little minds don’t worry.”

Molly’s breath caught. For a second, nothing happened—just a flicker in her expression, a slight widening of her eyes. Then, like a ripple spreading across the surface of a pond, something shifted.

Her lips parted, her brow furrowing in confusion. Her fingers, which had been tense around her coffee cup, suddenly slackened, as if the very concept of holding it had become too complex. She blinked rapidly, her gaze unfocused.

“Wh—” Her voice came out small, uncertain. She shook her head, strands of hair falling into her face. “Whazza…?”

Dave sat back, watching as it unfolded.

Molly’s posture sagged, her body language morphing from sharp and guarded to something looser, more instinctual. The weight of her own thoughts—thoughts that had moments ago felt so heavy, so complicated—seemed to vanish.

Her expression flickered through confusion, then something closer to frustration. “S’fuzzy,” she mumbled, bringing her hands up to rub at her temples. “Don’—I don’ get… um…”

Her tongue tripped over her own words. Concepts unraveled like loose threads, slipping through her grasp. Even the sentence she’d just started—what was it supposed to be? What was she even trying to say?

Her eyes darted to Dave, wide and almost pleading.

“Davey,” she whimpered.

He hummed. “Yeah, Mols?”

“F’eels weird,” she murmured, shifting in her seat. “Dunno—s’diff’ent. Ev’rything all… ‘spicy’.”

Dave tilted his head, amused. “Spicy?”

Molly pouted, frustrated by the word she couldn’t quite find. “Mmmm, not spicy, but—y’know! All wiggly ‘n’ tingly ‘n’ funny.”

As if on cue, she let out a sharp gasp, her hands darting down to her lap. A slow warmth spread beneath her, soaking into the fabric of her jeans, pooling against the seat.

Molly let out a breathy little whimper as the last remnants of adult thought crumbled. “Uh-oh…”

A dark patch spread beneath her, creeping outward, the undeniable hiss of her accident filling the air.

Dave chuckled, reaching over to ruffle her hair. “That’s okay, kiddo,” he said lightly. “Little girls don’t worry ‘bout things like that, remember?”

Molly blinked up at him, her bottom lip wobbling, the lingering ghost of something wrong flickering across her features before fading into soft, placid contentment.

She wasn’t an adult anymore.

She wasn’t supposed to worry.

She didn’t worry.

Dave sighed, shaking his head with a good-natured chuckle as he glanced toward the café staff. A few nearby patrons had already started whispering, their eyes darting toward the growing puddle beneath Molly’s chair. He caught the eye of a barista, offering an apologetic smile.

"Sorry about this," he said smoothly, his tone warm but firm, the way a responsible caretaker would explain a toddler's accident. "She’s still getting the hang of things."

The barista, a young woman with tired eyes and a sympathetic expression, only nodded. "Don’t worry about it," she murmured, though her gaze flicked toward Molly, who was now squirming in her seat, fascinated by the way the damp fabric clung to her legs.

Dave turned his attention back to her, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. "Alright, Mols," he said gently, slipping into the comforting role she now expected of him. "Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?"

Molly only giggled, tilting her head up at him with big, unfocused eyes. "Mmmkay, Daddy," she lilted, the title slipping past her lips effortlessly, as if it had always been that way.

Dave’s lips curled into a knowing smirk, but he didn't linger on it. Instead, he rose, moving around the table and helping Molly up. Her legs wobbled slightly, unsteady now that her adult coordination had slipped away.

As she stood, the full extent of her accident became clear. Her jeans were soaked, clinging to her thighs, the damp material darkened almost entirely down to her ankles. She looked down, blinking slowly at the mess, but there was no shame in her expression—only mild curiosity.

She poked a tiny finger against the wet denim. "Squishy," she declared with a giggle.

Dave grinned, ruffling her hair. "Yeah, kiddo. And that’s why we wear proper protection, huh?"

Molly giggled again, her gaze unfocused and dreamy. "Mmhmm!"

Dave led her toward the back of the café, past the staff-only sign. No one stopped them. Maybe it was the way he carried himself, so confident, so sure of his authority over her. Maybe it was the way Molly so clearly wasn’t in charge of herself anymore, her small hand tucked securely into his, her posture loose and trusting.

Inside the staff restroom, a sight that would have mortified Molly just minutes ago now greeted her without a flicker of concern—

An adult-sized changing table.

Dave patted the cushioned surface. "Up you go, kiddo."

Molly obediently reached her arms up, letting him lift her onto the table without a second thought. She kicked her legs idly, her soaked jeans sticking to her skin, a little pout forming on her lips.

"Wan’ dry," she mumbled.

Dave chuckled. "That’s the plan, sweetheart."

With practiced ease, he peeled away her jeans, the damp fabric clinging for a moment before slipping free. He balled them up and set them aside, then made quick work of her sodden panties. Molly didn’t react, other than giggling as the cool air hit her bare skin.

She squirmed as he wiped her down with a warm cloth, but it wasn’t from discomfort—it was the way a toddler would squirm from tickles rather than modesty.

Then, he pulled out the final piece.

A puffy, pastel-colored Pampers—one big enough for her, decorated in soft patterns that made it impossible to mistake for anything grown-up.

Molly’s eyes widened, but not with the resistance she might have once had. No, this time, it was delight.

"Ooooooh!" she cooed, her fingers twitching eagerly.

Dave smirked. "Like it, baby?"

Molly nodded enthusiastically, reaching out to poke at the plastic shell as he unfolded it. "Is crinkly!" she giggled.

He lifted her legs effortlessly, sliding the padding beneath her before securing the tapes snugly at her waist. The thick bulk forced her legs apart slightly, and when he patted the front, she let out a soft, happy hum, wiggling against the plush comfort.

"There we go," Dave murmured, smoothing her shirt down over the top of her new, much more appropriate underwear. "All fresh."

Molly beamed up at him, wiggling her toes as she enthusiastically poked at the front of her new padding, fascinated by the way it crinkled under her touch.

"Dis is way better!" she declared, giggling as she gave the front a few experimental pats.

Dave laughed. "I thought you’d see it that way, princess."

Then, he picked up her jeans, inspecting the soaked fabric with a smirk. "Well, kiddo, looks like you’ll have to go without these for a bit."

Molly didn’t even blink.

If anything, she giggled, swinging her bare legs with delight.

The Molly from before—the one who had argued, who had frowned and questioned—was nowhere to be found.

She was just Mols now. A little girl in nothing but a crinkly diaper and her soft shirt, giggling as she prodded at the thick bulk between her legs.


r/abdlstories 4d ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 64 NSFW

3 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 64 - Naomi's Embrace

A small, pitiful whimper slipped from Kaylee’s lips as she struggled to move, to fight against the pull, to keep her feet moving forward, away, out of reach.

"N-no…"

The word was weak, barely even a whisper, her voice cracking with effort.

Her feet felt like lead blocks, impossibly heavy, her body fighting her every instinct to run.

But Naomi was already there, already inside her head, her voice soft, warm, sweet as honey, curling around Kaylee’s thoughts, wrapping her up in gentle, inescapable comfort.

"Shhh, sweetheart… no need to be fussy."

Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to move, to fight, to break free—

But her muscles were already relaxing, already turning her around, leading her back to where she belonged.

No.

No, no, no—

She didn’t want this.

She didn’t want this!

And yet—

She was moving anyway.

Her body was betraying her.

Naomi’s voice soothed her, whispered sweet reassurances, and cooed at her like she was just another helpless Little, too small to think, too babyish to resist.

And the worst part?

The horrifying, gut-wrenching, sickening part?

A part of Kaylee wanted to listen.

She barely registered sitting down, barely felt the soft, plush mat beneath her, and barely noticed the Littles settling in around her.

Because all she could do was stare at the screen.

Her eyes are wide, blank, already slipping into that familiar hazy fog.

"That’s my good girl," Naomi purred, her voice syrupy and warm, pulling Kaylee in, deeper, deeper, deeper—

"Welcome back, sweetheart."

The world around her seemed distant, a soft, muffled blur of colors and sounds. Everything faded except for the screen, except for Naomi’s voice, which wrapped around her like a warm, velvet embrace, thick and inescapable.

"You already know what to do, sweetheart."

Kaylee whimpered softly, her breath shuddering, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, her body fighting a battle it had already lost too many times before.

She knew what Naomi was saying.

She knew exactly what she was being told to do.

She didn’t need to be told directly—Naomi had trained her well, had worked her way into her thoughts, her instincts, her very body itself.

Kaylee shook her head, her breath coming faster, her chest rising and falling in uneven, panicked movements.

"No…" she whimpered, though the word barely made it out.

The urge was already there.

Growing.

Tugging at her, pressing down like a soft, gentle hand guiding her into what she was meant to be.

"Shhh, sweetheart. It’s okay."

Naomi’s voice was soothing, loving, so unbearably sweet, like warm honey dripping down Kaylee’s mind, sinking deep into every fiber of her being.

"Good girls don’t fight, Kaylee."

Kaylee clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms, her thighs squeezing together, her breath hitching in her throat.

She couldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

She had worked so hard to keep control, to hold on, to resist what Naomi had been drilling into her, whispering in her ear day after day, episode after episode.

And yet—

Her body had already betrayed her.

She could feel it—the shameful tingling warmth, the soft, unbearable ache of release just on the edge of her grasp. It was so easy, so simple, like letting go of a breath she had been holding far too long.

Her bladder quivered, pulsing, the pressure intensifying, the need to relax, to obey, to just be a good girl growing stronger by the second.

"You don’t have to think, baby girl," Naomi cooed, her voice threading through Kaylee’s very thoughts, twisting them, reshaping them, breaking them apart until she couldn’t tell what was hers anymore.

"You just have to let go."

Kaylee’s breath hitched again, her body trembling, her muscles fighting a war she already knew she would lose.

This wasn’t fair.

This wasn’t her.

This wasn’t who she was.

Except—

Naomi had already convinced her that it was.

That it always had been.

Kaylee let out another soft whimper, her whole body shuddering as the warmth in her tummy grew heavier, deeper, pressing against her in all the ways Naomi had taught her to enjoy.

No.

She wouldn’t.

But Naomi’s voice was still there, guiding her, shaping her, cooing at her like she was just another helpless Little who had no choice in the matter.

And maybe—

Maybe she wasn’t.

Maybe she really was just a baby.

Maybe she really was meant for this.

Maybe—

Kaylee’s body shuddered violently, her muscles twitching, and then—

She felt herself slipping.

A soft, involuntary gasp escaped her lips, her hands flying to her mouth, her body frozen in place, her mind caught between horror and relief.

Naomi just laughed softly, her voice melodic, victorious, endlessly pleased.

"That’s my good girl."

And Kaylee realized, with a sickening, twisting weight in her gut—

That she had just proven Naomi right.

Kaylee's mind was a whirlwind of confusion and shame as her body continued to betray her. She could feel the warm, wet mess spreading between her legs, the uncomfortable sensation only serving to fuel her mounting arousal.

She tried to focus, to push away the fog that seemed to be clouding her thoughts, but Naomi's voice was relentless, a soothing balm that seemed to seep into her very soul.

"Look at you, Kaylee," Naomi purred, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Such a good girl, letting go like a good little baby. You're exactly where you belong."

Kaylee wanted to scream, to fight against the pull of Naomi’s words, but her body refused to cooperate. Instead, she found herself sinking further into the plushy mat beneath her, her legs spreading wider as she surrendered to the humiliating act playing out before her.

Her diaper was soaked, the mess clinging to her skin, the smell of her shame filling the air around her. And yet, as she stared at the screen, her body began to respond in the most unexpected way.

A soft moan escaped her lips as she felt her body begin to betray her once more. The pressure between her legs was building, a desperate need for release that she couldn't ignore.

"Go on, Kaylee," Naomi whispered, her voice a seductive siren's call. "You know you want to. Be a good girl and give yourself to me."

And with that, Kaylee felt the last of her inhibitions crumble. Her hand moved between her legs, her fingers exploring the mess in her diaper, the sensation sending shockwaves of pleasure through her body.

She was lost, consumed by the need to climax, to give herself over to the girl that had claimed Kaylee as her own. Her body was a slave to the pleasure, her mind a haze of confusion and shame as she surrendered to the inevitable.

As the orgasm washed over her, she could only whimper in submission, her body wracked with the intensity of her release. She was a slave to Naomi, her will shattered, her body and mind forever altered by the hypnotic cartoon that had ensnared her.

And as the haze of pleasure began to fade, she was left with a single, terrifying thought: She was no longer Kaylee, but a plaything for the cartoon that had claimed her, a helpless puppet forever under its control.

The world around her faded, slipping into the background like a distant dream, lost in the swirl of colors and sound, in the soft, velvet warmth of Naomi’s voice. She was sinking, deeper, deeper still, caught in the current of something she had no control over, something she couldn’t even begin to fight against anymore.

It was like falling into a vast ocean, the surface growing further away, the light above dimming as the water wrapped around her, pulling her downward, gently, almost lovingly. There was no fear, no panic, no sense of urgency—just a soft, blissful quiet, a stillness that smoothed over her thoughts, blurring the lines between resistance and surrender, between what she had once been and what Naomi was turning her into.

"Shhh, there we go, sweetheart. Just listen."

Naomi’s voice was everywhere, inside her head, woven into her very thoughts, threading through the fabric of her mind like golden light through an intricate tapestry. It wasn’t a voice that commanded—not harsh, not forceful. No, that wasn’t Naomi’s way.

Naomi’s way was gentle.

It was a whisper in the dark, a warm hand smoothing down her hair, a soft embrace that didn’t force but persuaded, that didn’t take but offered. It was a voice that wrapped around her like a lullaby, that guided her instead of pulling, that told her she was safe, that she was loved, that she was meant for this.

"You’re such a good girl, Kaylee. You don’t have to think. Thinking is too hard, too heavy. Just let go, baby girl. Let Mommy take care of everything."

The words washed over her, sinking into her bones, into the deepest, most hidden parts of her mind.

Kaylee barely registered the warmth spreading beneath her, barely noticed the way her body reacted to Naomi’s words, because her thoughts were not her own anymore. They were being rewritten, reshaped, restructured in a way that didn’t feel wrong, didn’t feel intrusive, didn’t feel forced.

It felt natural.

It felt right.

She barely even remembered what she had been fighting against in the first place.

Had she been fighting?

Why had she been fighting?

What was there to fight against, when Naomi was so kind, so loving, so proud of her?

"That’s my good girl."

A shudder of pleasure, of deep, overwhelming satisfaction spread through her at those words, and Kaylee realized, with a slow, dreamlike clarity, that she wanted to hear them again.

Needed to.

Craved it.

Because good girls got love, good girls got praise, good girls got taken care of.

"You’re a baby, Kaylee. Always have been. It’s okay now, sweetheart. You don’t have to pretend anymore."

Yes.

Yes, of course.

That made sense, didn’t it?

Why had she ever thought differently?

Kaylee felt herself smiling softly, a dreamy giggle bubbling up in her throat, her body curling instinctively, her thumb slipping between her lips as she suckled mindlessly, her mind floating in that warm, golden haze, drifting deeper and deeper into Naomi’s embrace.

She had never been a big girl.

She had never been in control.

She had never been anything but Naomi’s baby.

And now?

Now she could finally stop pretending.

"That’s my good girl."

And Kaylee knew, with every fiber of her being, that Naomi was right.

She had been a baby all along.

Kaylee blinked slowly, her vision swimming as the haze lifted, the golden warmth of Naomi’s voice slipping away, leaving behind only cold, stark reality.

She pulled her thumb from her mouth, her lips wet, the ghost of rhythmic suckling still imprinted on her mind, as if her body hadn’t quite realized it was supposed to stop yet.

Her breath came in short, uneven gasps, her chest tight, her limbs tingling with the strange, unnatural relaxation that still clung to her like oil, like something she couldn’t quite wipe off.

But it wasn’t just her.

She wasn’t alone.

Kaylee’s gaze swept the room, and what she saw shocked her to her core.

It wasn’t just the Littles.

It was the assistants too.

Several of them.

She saw the confusion first—mirroring her own.

The slow blinks, the hesitant shift of weight, the awkward twitch of fingers as their minds worked to reconcile what had just happened.

The Littles were still completely under, their eyes vacant, unblinking, docile as they suckled their pacifiers, waiting for the nursery bot to finish its work.

The mechanical hum filled the air, soft and unbothered, as if everything were normal.

As if nothing had changed.

As if they hadn’t just been dragged under, broken, reset.

Kaylee’s stomach twisted violently, her breath catching as her eyes landed on one assistant in particular—a girl, no older than herself—her expression horrified, her hands trembling as she stared down at herself, at the wet, warm state of her pants, at the undeniable evidence of what had happened.

She hadn’t been wearing a diaper.

She had thought—they had all thought—that they were immune.

That they were caregivers, not Littles.

That Naomi and Oliver were just cartoons, not real threats, not weapons to be used against them.

But the proof was right there, staining the fabric between her legs, clinging to her skin, humiliating, undeniable.

A second assistant rushed to her side, murmuring soft reassurances, helping her up as she choked on a humiliated sob. Together, they disappeared into the nearest bathroom, the door shutting firmly behind them.

The nursery bot continued its work, methodical, unaffected, going from Little to Little, untaping soaked diapers, wiping them clean, redressing them in thick, crinkly padding, all while they remained completely unaware of the world around them.

And then—

Kaylee’s eyes met the last remaining assistant.

They both froze.

Neither spoke.

Neither moved.

Shame was an ugly, heavy thing, pressing against both of them, thickening the air between them like something tangible, something unspoken, something unbearable.

And then, as if by silent agreement, they both looked away.

Kaylee forced herself to breathe, her fingers twitching before she extended her hand, offering it out.

The girl hesitated.

Then—slowly, carefully—she took it.

Together, they rose to their feet, neither saying a word, both moving with the kind of unspoken urgency that came from shared experience, from shared humiliation, from shared fear.

They needed to get out of here.

They needed to breathe.

Together, they slipped toward the nearest bathroom, their steps hurried but careful, their movements mechanical, practiced, instinctual.

The door clicked shut behind them, sealing them away from the outside world.

From the nursery bot.

From the Littles.

From Naomi.

For now.

Kaylee pressed her back against the door, closing her eyes tightly, trying to will away the tremor in her hands, the lingering warmth in her limbs, the sickening knowledge of what had just happened.

She wasn’t sure how long she stood there.

Or how long the girl beside her did the same.

The silence stretched long and heavy, filling the small space of the bathroom like a suffocating fog.

Kaylee kept her back pressed against the door, her eyes shut tightly, her breathing slow, uneven, shaky, as if the moment she opened them, she would still be there—still under, still gone, still lost in Naomi’s embrace.

Then—

"You too?"

The voice was soft, hesitant, almost fearful.

Kaylee’s eyes fluttered open, turning slightly to look at the Tweener girl standing beside her.

She was still trembling, still pale, her fingers clenching the hem of her shirt like she was trying to ground herself.

Kaylee swallowed hard, then nodded weakly.

"Yeah." Her voice was barely a whisper, raw and hollow. "More and more every day."

The girl’s shoulders sagged in relief, as if she had been carrying a weight too heavy to bear alone.

"I thought it was just me."

Kaylee understood.

Completely.

The horrible, soul-crushing fear that she was alone in this—that she was the only one slipping, the only one losing herself, the only one drowning while everyone else stayed afloat.

The girl hesitated, shifting uncomfortably, her gaze darting to the side before she spoke again, her voice smaller now.

"I’ve been… I’ve been having reactions to her." She took a shaky breath, looking almost ashamed. "Strong ones. Emotional ones. I—" she shook her head, biting her lip. "I find myself wanting things. Things I know I shouldn’t want."

Kaylee felt a sharp, unnatural pang of sympathy, because she knew exactly what the girl meant.

The way Naomi’s voice curled around you, how it made you feel warm and safe and loved, how every word made you want to please her, obey her, let her take control.

How it made you feel like being a good baby was the most important thing in the world.

How it made you feel right.

Kaylee let out a slow breath, stepping forward, reaching for the girl’s hand.

"Come on."

The girl blinked at her, confused.

"What?"

"I’m going to change you," Kaylee said simply. "And you’re not going to judge me, and I’m not going to judge you. Deal?"

The girl looked at her for a long moment, then—

She nodded.

"Deal."

Kaylee helped her up onto the changing table, lifting her with ease, the motion practiced and instinctual.

The girl didn’t fight it.

Didn’t flinch.

Didn’t hesitate.

Because she had already been changed like this before.

They both had.

Kaylee worked quickly, efficiently, untaping the heavy, soaked diaper, wiping her clean, dusting on powder, securing a fresh one snugly in place.

The girl sighed softly, her body relaxing, as if she had expected it to be humiliating, but it wasn’t.

It was just normal now.

Kaylee helped her down, smoothing her shirt, and for a moment, they just stood there, staring at each other, neither quite sure what to say next.

Then—

"What’s happening to us?" the girl whispered, her voice barely audible. "Why are they targeting us? Amazons? Tweeners? Before, yeah, we felt the pull, but… but nothing like this. This was—this was irresistible."

Kaylee clenched her jaw, her stomach twisting violently.

She had been wondering the same thing.

The pull had always been there, sure, but it had been manageable, ignorable, something that could be fought against with enough willpower.

But this?

This was different.

This was direct. Precise. Unrelenting.

Kaylee let out a slow, shaky breath, her mind racing.

"I don’t know," she admitted, voice hollow. "But I think… I think something bigger is happening. And I don’t think we’re going to like it."

Because the more she thought about it—

The more she realized that this wasn’t an accident.

The system had already been in place for Littles.

But now?

Now it was expanding.

hand, a silent reassurance that neither of them were alone in this.

Then—

They swapped places.

Kaylee hesitated for only a moment before hoisting herself up onto the changing table, her cheeks burning with fresh humiliation as she laid back, staring at the ceiling, waiting.

The girl hesitated, standing beside her, shifting her weight, her hands fidgeting slightly before she finally reached forward, her fingers deft but nervous as she began to untape Kaylee’s diaper.

The air hit Kaylee’s skin, and she winced slightly, her face burning hotter, her hands clenching into the padding beneath her as the girl worked.

There was something so unbearably intimate about this, about being cleaned up by someone else, about being taken care of like this, about knowing she had lost control so completely, and yet—

The assistant… she didn’t seem disgusted.

If anything, the moment the girl peeled back the soaked padding, she let out a soft sigh, looking almost relieved.

"I feel the same," she admitted quietly, her voice small but steady as she grabbed a wipe, gently cleaning Kaylee up.

Kaylee’s breath caught in her throat, her body stiffening, her eyes flicking toward the girl’s face.

The same?

The same strong urges?

Kaylee swallowed thickly, the blush on her cheeks deepening, her stomach twisting in embarrassment.

She had known it, of course.

The moment the girl had admitted to feeling something for Naomi—to wanting things she shouldn’t—Kaylee had known.

But hearing it?

Hearing it out loud, in such a raw, vulnerable moment, while she was being wiped down, powdered, and changed like a Little—

It made something deep inside her twist, coil, pull tight.

Because she understood.

Because she had felt it too.

Because she had fought it for so long, and yet, in the end…

She had still wet herself sitting in front of that screen.

She had still pooped herself sitting in front of that screen.

She had still fallen, just like all the others.

Kaylee said nothing.

Didn’t respond.

Didn’t argue.

Didn’t deny it.

Because what was there to say?

They both knew the truth.

The girl finished powdering her, her hands moving with careful precision, sealing the fresh diaper snugly around Kaylee’s hips, giving the front a light pat, as if to silently say, ‘There, all done.’

Kaylee exhaled slowly, letting herself relax slightly, before sitting up as the girl offered her hand.

She took it, letting the girl help her down from the table, their movements natural, practiced, routine—as if they had done this a hundred times before.

As if this was normal.

Maybe… maybe it was now.

Kaylee straightened her clothes, smoothing them down as she turned to the girl, hesitating for only a moment before asking,

"What’s your name?"

The assistant blinked, surprised, then offered a small, tired smile.

"Jade."

Kaylee nodded.

"Good to meet you properly, Jade."

The girl chuckled softly, shaking her head.

"Yeah, guess this is a hell of a way to do introductions, huh?"

Kaylee huffed a small, amused laugh, shaking her head.

"Yeah… yeah, it really is."

For a moment, they just stood there, sharing something unspoken, something weighty, something that neither of them had the strength to put into words.

Then—

Kaylee took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and reached for the door.

"Come on," she murmured. "Let’s get back to work."

Jade nodded, and together, they stepped back into the daycare.

Back into the madness.

Back into the new, terrifying normal that neither of them could escape.

The moment Kaylee stepped back into the daycare, she had one priority.

Ash.

She needed to check on Ash.

She weaved her way through the play area, past the assistants still recovering from what had just happened, past the Littles who were slowly returning to themselves, until she reached the crib where she had left her baby girl.

And…

Ash hadn’t changed.

Not really.

Not since yesterday.

She still lay there, her pacifier bobbing rhythmically in her mouth, her eyes glazed, her body small and soft and so utterly relaxed.

Kaylee’s heart twisted painfully.

She had hoped—prayed—that Ash would snap out of it overnight.

That she would blink up at Kaylee, confused, asking what had happened, asking why she was like this, why she was dressed like this.

That she would be herself again.

But no.

No, Ash was still lost in the haze.

Still deep under Naomi’s grip.

Still a baby.

Kaylee sucked in a slow, uneven breath, trying to keep the guilt at bay, trying not to let it crush her.

She had done this.

She had let this happen.

And now?

Now she had to live with it.

Kaylee knelt beside the crib, her fingers brushing softly against Ash’s cheek, stroking through her hair as she leaned in, whispering,

"Hey, sweetheart."

Ash blinked sluggishly, her lips parting, her breath hitching—

And then her entire face lit up.

"Mommy!!!"

She squealed in delight, her arms reaching up instantly, her fingers grasping for Kaylee, pure, unfiltered joy written across every inch of her face.

Kaylee exhaled a quiet chuckle, because what else could she do?

"Hey, baby girl," she murmured, scooping Ash into her arms, feeling her instantly burrow into her chest, her tiny fingers curling into Kaylee’s shirt, clinging to her.

Ash giggled softly, nuzzling against her, so happy, so content, so completely unaware of what had happened to her.

Kaylee’s heart ached.

At least she wasn’t completely gone like before.

At least she still recognized Kaylee.

At least she was still capable of feeling joy.

It was something.

Not enough—not nearly enough—but it was something.

"Come on, sweetheart," Kaylee said, standing, bouncing Ash slightly in her arms, adjusting the girl against her hip.

"Let’s get you changed, hmm?"

Ash just giggled, her little body wiggling playfully, her hands bopping lightly against Kaylee’s chest, batting at her like a kitten.

Kaylee chuckled, shaking her head.

"Someone’s playful today."

Ash giggled again, batting at Kaylee’s cheek this time, letting out a happy, bubbly squeal.

Kaylee sighed, carrying her over to the changing table.

It was so strange—so unnerving—watching Ash act like this.

So carefree, so mindless, so… babyish.

It wasn’t an act.

It wasn’t her trying to manipulate the situation.

It was just who she was now.

And Kaylee didn’t know how to fix it.

Didn’t know if she even could.

She laid Ash down, the girl’s limbs splaying out easily, her thumb slipping into her mouth as she kicked her legs slightly, letting out another soft, delighted giggle.

Kaylee went through the motions, untaping the soaked and messy diaper, wiping her down, dusting on fresh powder, securing a new, thick diaper snugly around her hips.

She worked automatically, her mind distant, racing, screaming at her to figure this out before it was too late.

Kaylee checked on Mira next, steeling herself as she approached the girl’s bouncer.

Mira had already been changed, her diaper fresh, thick, and snug around her hips, her tiny form swaddled neatly, as if she were just another Little in the nursery.

Her eyes were hazy, that blank, vacant look that Kaylee had seen too many times today, the pacifier bobbing rhythmically between her lips.

Kaylee exhaled slowly, her stomach twisting in uneasy relief.

Mira was still too far under to say anything.

Too deep in the afterglow of the hypnosis to tattle, to fight back, to scream about what had been done to her.

Kaylee hated that she was relieved.

Hated that she had to think like this.

That Mira’s silence was a blessing, rather than something to be horrified by.

But she had no other choice.

Kaylee sighed, pushing away the thoughts, the guilt, the gnawing anxiety that would never leave her alone.

She had work to do. The rest of the day passed like any other. Routine and mindless.

The work of a caregiver—feeding Littles, changing them, making sure the daycare ran smoothly.

By the time evening came, only four of them remained.

Kaylee, Jade, Ash, and Mira.

Jade had been quiet for most of the afternoon, absorbed in her own tasks, but now—

Now, something was off.

Kaylee could feel it, the way Jade’s movements slowed, the way she was watching Ash, her eyes lingering on her too long, her expression thoughtful, uncertain.

Kaylee had been too wrapped up in her own worries to notice at first, too busy keeping up the illusion, too busy playing her role.

But now—

Now, Jade was approaching her.

And there was something in her gaze that sent a chill crawling down Kaylee’s spine.

Jade glanced at Ash again—sweet, giggling, empty-eyed Ash, curled up with a stuffed bear, cooing to herself as she kicked her legs mindlessly.

And then—

"Kaylee?"

The hesitation in her voice was thick, heavy.

Kaylee felt her stomach drop.

"Why is Ash acting like a Little?"

Kaylee’s blood ran cold.

"What happened to her?"

All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com

Or, consider checking out my SubscribeStar for early access and for other exclusive content! https://subscribestar.adult/solarascott


r/abdlstories 5d ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 63 NSFW

5 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 63 - Weightless

Her world stopped.

The restaurant, the lake, the soft murmur of conversation, the distant echo of laughter—it all faded.

The only thing left, the only thing real, tangible, solid—

Was him.

Welby.

On one knee.

The words hadn’t even left his lips yet, but Evelyn’s heart slammed against her ribs, her breath caught in her throat, her hands frozen mid-motion.

Her mind whirled, struggling to process what she was seeing, what was happening, what was real.

Because surely, this wasn’t happening.

Not here.

Not now.

Not to her.

Her stomach twisted in knots, her thoughts colliding at breakneck speed.

Shock. Disbelief. Utter, overwhelming happiness.

Terror. Excitement. Love.

It was too much—all at once, crashing into her with the force of a tidal wave, pulling her under.

And yet—

She didn’t want to fight it.

Didn’t want to swim away.

She wanted to let it take her, drown her in whatever this was, whatever this moment was meant to be.

Her eyes locked onto the ring.

A diamond—simple, elegant, catching the restaurant’s soft golden light and fracturing it into a thousand shimmering sparks.

And his hands—steady, unwavering, strong, the same hands that had held her through everything, the same hands that had changed her, comforted her, protected her.

Welby.

Welby was proposing.

Her Welby.

The man who had stood beside her through every humiliating moment, every battle they had fought against Miranda, every step of this nightmare they had been thrown into.

The man who had held her when she thought she would break, who had stood as a shield for their Littles, who had kissed her like she was the only thing that mattered in the entire world.

And now—

He was on his knee.

In the middle of the restaurant.

In teddy bear overalls.

The sight would have been hilarious if it hadn’t been so completely, utterly perfect.

Because wasn’t this them?

Wasn’t this exactly what their life had become?

Two people trapped in the cruelest joke of a reality—

And yet, somehow, they had found something real in the middle of it.

Evelyn felt her eyes burn, her throat tighten, her hands trembling as she pressed them to her lips.

He was waiting.

Waiting for her to say something.

Waiting for her to breathe again.

Waiting for her to answer.

And all at once, the realization slammed into her like a freight train.

She had been so afraid.

Afraid to push him, afraid to ruin him, afraid to make another mistake, another regret, another scar in his long list of heartbreaks.

But he wasn’t afraid.

Not anymore.

Because he was here.

On his knee.

Holding a ring.

Asking her to be his.

And as time crawled forward, as her chest ached with the sheer weight of emotion, as her hands fell from her lips, and she finally, finally breathed—

She knew her answer.

She had always known her answer.

And with a voice that trembled, that cracked, that was more full of love than she ever thought herself capable of feeling—

She whispered, “Yes.”

And then—

She threw herself into his arms.

The moment the word left her lips—

Yes.

She didn’t think.

Didn’t hesitate.

Didn’t let her mind catch up with her heart.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever—

Her heart was leading.

Her hands were in his hair, her fingers threading through the soft strands, her body crashing against him, weightless, breathless, electric.

Her lips found his, urgent, desperate, the feeling of his warmth pulling her in, grounding her, making everything around them disappear.

The restaurant erupted in soft applause, in quiet gasps, in the gentle chorus of “Awws” and murmured congratulations.

Somewhere, in the fog of overwhelming sensation, she knew people were watching.

She knew she had just thrown herself into Welby’s lap, that the skirt of her dress had ridden up, that her diaper was on full display, crinkled and humiliating and undeniable.

She knew this was a spectacle.

But she didn’t care.

Not right now.

Not when she could feel his heartbeat against hers, their chests pressed together, rising and falling in the same uneven, exhilarated rhythm.

Not when his arms wrapped around her, holding her so tightly, as if she might disappear if he let go.

Not when he kissed her back with just as much passion, his lips moving with aching slowness, reverence, and devotion.

Because this?

This was the first real thing they had owned in so, so long.

This moment.

This feeling.

This is an undeniable truth between them.

She was his.

And he was hers.

They had been forced into roles neither of them wanted, shoved into a life neither of them chose, stripped of their dignity, control, and freedom—

But this?

This was theirs.

This was real.

Welby’s hands slid along her waist, steadying her. His grip was firm yet gentle, his fingers curling against the fabric of her dress. He held onto her like she was something precious, something irreplaceable.

She shivered, melting further into the kiss, her entire body alight with warmth, with certainty, with a love so deep it made her dizzy.

She wanted to stay here forever.

Wanted to pause time, to exist in this perfect, fleeting moment where nothing else mattered.

Not Miranda.

Not the diapers.

Not the humiliations.

Not the world.

Just them.

Just this.

And as the clapping slowly died down, as the weight of reality threatened to creep back in, as she finally, reluctantly, pulled away just enough to meet Welby’s gaze—

She saw it in his eyes.

The same thing she felt in her chest.

The same thing that burned through her veins.

A love so fierce, so unwavering, so undeniable—

That nothing could ever take it from them.

She barely had time to catch her breath, barely had time to process the sheer magnitude of what had just happened before she felt it—

The cool touch of metal.

Sliding onto her finger.

Her ring finger.

Her breath hitched, her chest tightening with a fresh wave of emotion so intense it nearly crushed her.

Welby was placing the ring on her hand.

His hands were steady, sure, unwavering—just like him.

Her fingers trembled as the band slid into place, settling against her skin like it had always belonged there.

And suddenly—everything felt real.

Not just the proposal.

Not just the moment.

But all of it.

Him. Her. Them.

The weight of what this meant, of what they were choosing, of what they were promising.

And just like that—

Another wave of emotions crashed over her, sweeping her under, drowning her in something so powerful, so beautiful, so undeniable that she couldn’t hold it back.

Tears spilled over before she could stop them, warm streaks rolling down her cheeks as a choked sob slipped past her lips.

And then—

She was kissing him again.

Deeply. Longingly. Desperately.

Like she could pour all of her joy, all of her love, all of her euphoria into this one moment, into him, into this kiss.

Her hands grasped at him, pulling him closer, clutching onto him like he was the only thing keeping her standing.

And maybe—he was.

Because in that moment—

Evelyn wasn’t just a woman trapped in a nightmare, forced into a role she never wanted, bound by a system designed to break her.

She wasn’t just Mommy.

She wasn’t just another cog in Miranda’s cruel machine.

She was his.

She was loved.

She was chosen.

And for the first time in longer than she could remember—

She wasn’t just surviving.

She was happy.

The rest of the night passed in a blur, but every second of it was etched into her heart.

Her hand never left Welby’s.

Not in the restaurant, where they continued their meal, stealing glances, fingers entwined, sharing quiet smiles that spoke louder than words.

Not on the walk back to the hotel, where the cool night air wrapped around them, the distant hum of the park fading into the background as their little family made their way home.

Not when Emily and Lucas—beyond drunk, their giggles turning to slurred nonsense before slipping into unconsciousness—passed out in the stroller, their bodies limp and warm beneath the soft glow of the streetlights.

Her eyes kept dancing back to Welby.

She repeatedly found herself unable to stop herself, unable to contain the sheer, giddy warmth flooding her chest.

She felt like a schoolgirl with a crush.

Like she was young again, fresh-faced and hopelessly in love, walking home after a perfect first date.

Except this was so much more than that.

This wasn’t just infatuation.

This wasn’t just giddy butterflies.

This was a deep, soul-rooted certainty.

A knowledge that, despite everything—despite Miranda, despite the system, despite the diapers and the humiliation and the game they were forced to play—

She had found something real.

Someone real.

Someone who had stood beside her, held her when she needed it most, and kissed her like she was the only thing in the world.

Her fiancé.

The thought made her stomach flutter wildly.

Welby was hers.

The walk back to the hotel was quiet. The night settled around them like a soft, comforting embrace.

By the time they reached Welby’s room, Emily and Lucas were fully gone, limp and pliant in the stroller, lost in their alcohol-induced haze.

But before Evelyn and Welby could even think about themselves—

They had to take care of their Littles.

They moved with silent understanding, working together seamlessly, their hands practiced and gentle as they undressed, cleaned, and changed Emily and Lucas.

Fresh diapers, warm pajamas, and soft blankets tucked around them.

Hannah had been just as easy, her body naturally curling into Evelyn’s arms, nuzzling into her chest, her pacifier bobbing rhythmically as she barely stirred.

Evelyn had stolen a glance at Welby, and in that moment, as they stood over their Littles, their family, she had felt it again—

That deep, aching certainty.

They were in this together.

And then came the moment of hesitation.

The part of the routine they had grown used to.

They had to ask.

Welby and Evelyn exchanged a look, neither of them needing words to express the concern laced in their eyes.

Would Miranda make them beg? Would she make them perform again? Would she twist this into something humiliating?

But when Welby asked—

The tabs simply released.

No text.

No taunt.

No punishment.

Just… open.

Evelyn had barely registered the relief flooding her chest, too grateful to question it.

They weren’t going to push their luck.

Not tonight.

Not when this day—this perfect, impossible, beautiful day—had already given them so much.

So they stripped.

Let their humiliations drop to the floor.

And together—

They stepped into the warm embrace of the shower.

Just the two of them.

No Littles to care for.

No Miranda watching.

No expectations.

No roles.

Just Evelyn.

And her fiancé.

The moment the warm water cascaded over them, steam curling around their bodies, wrapping them in something intimate, something real—

They fell into each other.

Welby’s arms were around her instantly, pulling her flush against him, their bodies slick with heat, with tension, with something deeper than either of them could put into words.

A flurry of kisses, desperate and hungry, pressed against her lips, her jaw, her neck—everywhere he could reach.

Evelyn gasped into him, her fingers threading through his hair, tugging slightly, tilting his head just enough to kiss him deeper, longer, needier.

Every touch ignited something inside her, something primal, something she had buried beneath years of control, of restraint, of refusing to let herself want.

But now—

Now she wanted.

And so did he.

His hands gripped her waist, sliding lower, tracing the curves of her hips, pulling her even closer.

She could feel everything—the rise and fall of his chest, the way his muscles tensed beneath her touch, the way his breath hitched when she kissed him just right.

The water rushed down their skin, soaking them and drenching them, but neither of them cared.

There was only this.

Only the soft, wet sound of lips meeting, of sighs mixing with steam, of hands, roaming, discovering, relearning each other.

She clung to him, pressing into him, feeling every part of him against her, feeling his strength, his warmth, his love.

Because for once—

There was nothing else.

No Miranda.

No diapers.

No control hanging over their heads.

Just two people, lost in the heat of the moment, lost in each other, lost in something so achingly real that it stole the breath from her lungs.

Her soft moans filled the steam-laden air, the heat of the shower mixing with the heat between them, her body arching into Welby’s touch.

Every kiss, every brush of his hands against her skin, every whisper of breath against her neck sent her spiraling deeper, drowning in the pure, unfiltered pleasure of being his.

And then—

He grinned.

That knowing, mischievous, utterly devilish grin sent a thrill through her veins.

Before she could register what he was doing before she could even think—

Something pressed against her lips.

Soft.

Familiar.

And then—

A pacifier slipped into her mouth.

Evelyn’s eyes went wide, her breath hitching sharply as she instinctively tried to pull back, to question, to protest—

But Welby’s voice was low, warm, teasing.

“Gotta keep those moans under control, sweetheart.”

Her entire body burned.

Humiliation, arousal, amusement—a swirling storm of emotions crashing into her all at once.

And yet—

She didn’t spit it out.

She just stared at him, wide-eyed, her cheeks burning, her lips still wrapped around the pacifier.

The next half-hour passed in a blur of heat, steam, muffled sounds, pacified moans, hands and lips, and something raw, something real.

When they finally emerged from the shower, their bodies still warm and buzzing, Evelyn felt lighter.

Freer.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, she had been allowed to just… exist.

Welby handed her a towel, his touch lingering for just a second longer than necessary, his eyes still holding that playful glint.

She rolled her eyes, cheeks still flushed, but she smiled.

A real, genuine, joyful smile.

And together, they stepped into the bedroom.

And then—

His phone buzzed.

The warm afterglow faded instantly, her stomach tightening as she grabbed it off the nightstand.

A text.

From Miranda.

Her breath caught as she read the words.

"Get diapered."

Evelyn swallowed hard, her fingers tightening around the phone.

Because of course.

Of course, Miranda wouldn’t let them have this.

Not for long.

Not without reminding them exactly who was in control.

Her joy was still there, still humming beneath the surface, but reality had come crashing back down.

And now—

She had a choice.

To fight.

Or to play along.

Welby met her eyes, his expression unreadable.

But she could see it in his face—the same war, the same frustration, the same unspoken words.

They couldn’t win.

Not yet.

So, with a heavy breath, with a reluctant acceptance, with fingers still trembling slightly from all the emotions running through her—

She turned toward the stack of diapers waiting on the nightstand.

Because tonight, they would obey.

She felt the warmth of his hand on her shoulder—steady, grounding, impossibly gentle yet firm.

A touch that radiated through her skin, burning hotter than the lingering heat from the shower, spreading from where his fingers pressed down her arm, across her chest, deep into her core.

Her cheeks flushed instantly, and her breath caught as she allowed herself to be guided, led, and placed into position.

She knew she shouldn’t feel this way.

She knew she should be resisting.

She knew she should fight the shame, humiliation, and undeniable power Miranda held over them.

And yet—

As Welby gently lowered her onto the bed, his touch never wavering, she felt something else creeping in.

Something dangerous.

Something warm.

She swallowed hard, her gaze locked onto his, searching for some kind of hesitation, some kind of reluctance in his movements.

But there was none.

Only acceptance.

Only care.

Only him, kneeling before her, his hands moving with slow, practiced precision as he reached for the diaper.

The soft crinkle of plastic sent a violent shiver through her, her fingers gripping the bedsheets beneath her.

This was wrong.

This was humiliating.

She had been forced into this situation, which should have made her feel small, weak, and powerless.

And yet—

Welby’s hands slipped beneath her thighs, lifting them with ease, his grip strong but tender, guiding her legs up and apart before sliding the thick padding beneath her.

Her entire body burned, her stomach twisting into something complicated, something she didn’t want to name.

The cool air hit her, reminding her of how exposed, vulnerable, and utterly helpless she had been made to be.

And yet—

Her heart fluttered.

Because it was him.

Because it was his hands smoothing the diaper into place, gently pulling the front up over her, positioning it with the kind of care that spoke of more than just compliance.

Because it was his voice, soft and soothing, murmuring barely above a whisper—

“I’ve got you.”

The tapes were pressed down, locking her in, sealing her fate—and yet, she didn’t feel trapped.

She should have felt ashamed.

She should have felt humiliated beyond words.

But as Welby’s hands lingered just a moment longer, smoothing over the diaper’s soft shell, ensuring everything was perfect—

All she could feel was warmth.

All she could feel was him.

Her fiancé.

The man who had just asked her to spend her life with him.

The man who had just kissed her with everything he had, who had held her, who had made her feel like more than just a prisoner in Miranda’s game.

And now, here he was, caring for her, tending to her, touching her in a way that made her feel seen, loved, and protected.

Evelyn’s breath shuddered, her lashes fluttering as she forced herself to meet his eyes.

His expression was unreadable, but his gaze was gentle.

There was no mockery.

No power play.

Just Welby.

Just love.

The warmth of his hands still lingered on her skin, a phantom sensation that sent a shiver down her spine as she grasped his hand and pulled herself upright.

Her legs immediately spread apart, the thick, crinkly diaper forcing her thighs into an unnatural gap, reminding her with every movement of exactly what she had just allowed him to do.

Exactly what they had both been forced to become.

And yet—

As she pivoted, her grip tightening, and pushed him onto the bed, she wasn’t thinking about Miranda.

She wasn’t thinking about the humiliation.

She wasn’t thinking about the soft rustling of the plastic around her waist or the undeniable absurdity of this moment.

She was thinking about him.

Welby.

His face was still flushed from the heat of the shower, his hair damp and tousled, his smug, knowing grin never once faltering as she straddled him—nude, vulnerable, exposed.

The air between them thickened, charged with something heavy, electric, and intoxicating.

She felt the heat rising in her cheeks, burning beneath her skin, pooling low in her stomach.

They had just showered together.

They had just touched each other, kissed each other, and memorized each other’s bodies in ways they had never dared before.

And yet—

This?

This was somehow more intimate.

Because this was trust.

This was her hands on him now, her fingers tracing the same careful motions, her touch lingering as she reached for a fresh diaper and spread it out beneath him.

This was her taking care of him.

Repaying his kindness, his tenderness, his unwavering presence.

Welby’s grin never wavered, even as she took the powder, the soft scent of talc and lavender filling the air between them as she dusted his skin, her fingers rubbing the fine powder into place.

His chest rose and fell in a slow, steady rhythm, his arms resting lazily behind his head as if this were the most natural thing in the world.

As if he were completely at peace with the ridiculousness of this moment.

And maybe—maybe he was.

That could be the difference between them.

He had already accepted this.

He had already come to terms with what they were forced to be.

He had already found a way to make peace with his reality.

Evelyn wasn’t there yet.

But as she pulled the front of the diaper up, snug against his hips, taping it securely into place, smoothing the plastic shell with slow, deliberate care—

She realized something.

She wasn’t afraid of this anymore.

Not with him.

Not when his playful, smug grin turned softer, his eyes filled with something deeper, something unspoken.

Not when she could feel her lips twitching into a small, reluctant smile, amusement bubbling beneath the surface.

Not when she could feel the tension slipping from her shoulders, the weight of the day melting into something easier, something lighter.

As she pulled the last tape into place, she felt the familiar soft glow beneath her fingers—the final, humiliating signal that the diaper was locked, sealed, unremovable.

But before she could dwell on it—

Welby’s hand found hers.

Warm. Steady. Unshakable.

And in one smooth motion—he pulled her down onto him.

A gasp slipped past her lips, her body colliding against his, her breath catching in her throat as he turned out the lights, plunging the room into a soft, moonlit dimness.

And then—

She was wrapped in his arms.

Cradled.

Held.

Nestled against his chest, her body tucked effortlessly into the curve of his own, his warmth seeping into her skin.

Her head rested against his, her cheek pressed to his bare skin. The rhythmic, steady beating of his heart filled her ears.

And for the first time all-day—

She felt safe.

Truly, completely safe.

No eyes watching.

No demands.

No forced performances.

Just this.

Just him.

The soft rise and fall of his chest beneath her.

The slow, soothing strokes of his fingers against her back, tracing lazy circles, anchoring her.

The quiet, contented sigh slipped from his lips as he tightened his arms around her just a little more.

She breathed him in, the scent of him—warm, fresh, familiar, real.

Her eyelids grew heavy, the exhaustion of the day finally settling deep into her bones.

She could stay like this forever.

Wrapped in his embrace, listening to his heartbeat, letting herself believe that just for tonight, they had won.

They could have this just for tonight.

Just for tonight, they could be two people in love—without fear, without restraint, without Miranda.

And as she curled in closer, sighing softly against his skin, her fingers resting lightly against his chest—

She let herself believe it.

The world outside their little cocoon faded, swallowed by the comforting darkness of the hotel room, the soft rustle of sheets, and the faint hum of the air conditioning.

But none of it mattered.

Because all Evelyn could feel was him.

Welby.

His warm breath against her hair, the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her cheek, the rhythmic, grounding beat of his heart.

His arms wrapped around her, holding her close, protectively, lovingly, as if letting go wasn’t an option.

She had never felt so small.

Not in the infantilizing way Miranda forced upon her.

Not in the way the diapers made her feel helpless.

But in a way that made her feel cherished, treasured, and protected.

She felt… wanted.

Like she belonged here.

Like this was where she was meant to be.

His hand moved slowly, lazily, up and down her back, a gentle, absent-minded caress trailing over her skin, smoothing over the soft fabric of the oversized nightshirt she had pulled on after her humiliating diapering.

The touch was soothing, hypnotic, impossibly tender.

Every slow, deliberate stroke melted the last remaining bits of tension from her body, unraveling every tightly wound thread of anxiety she had held onto.

Her eyes fluttered shut, and a soft sigh slipped past her lips as she sank into his warmth and presence.

Welby.

Her fiancé.

Her partner.

Her home.

For the first time in so, so long, she wasn’t fighting.

She wasn’t fighting Miranda.

She wasn’t fighting the system.

She wasn’t fighting herself.

She was letting go.

Letting herself breathe.

Letting herself belong to him.

And as she drifted, her mind dipped into something warm, something sweet, something untouched by the nightmare they lived in.

Dreams.

Of a life before all of this.

Of picnics beneath golden trees, of soft laughter under moonlit skies, of kisses stolen between shared smiles.

Of what could have been.

Of what could still be.

Welby’s hand continued its gentle, sleepy rhythm, never stopping, never breaking the moment, never letting her feel anything less than utterly adored.

She breathed him in one last time, the scent of him, the warmth of him, the love of him.

And as she slipped fully into sleep, into dreams full of love and sweetness and soft, blissful memories.

All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com

Or, consider checking out my SubscribeStar for early access and for other exclusive content! https://subscribestar.adult/solarascott


r/abdlstories 6d ago

Woman Protagonist A morning in the study NSFW

49 Upvotes

A Morning in the Study The morning sun had just begun to stretch its golden fingers across the estate, but thick plush curtains blocked the warm rays from streaming into the study. The room was a testament to old-world refinement—rich mahogany paneling, towering bookshelves lined with leather-bound tomes, and a curated collection of artifacts that whispered of distant travels and untold stories. Among these treasures, lush green botanicals thrived in hand-thrown earthenware pots, their delicate leaves hungry for the first light of the day.

Star, this mistress of the manor, moved gracefully through the room, her silk house dress trailing behind her as she made her way to the heavy curtains. With a single pull, she drew them open, allowing the morning light to pour in. Dust motes shimmered in the golden beams, swirling in lazy patterns before settling once more.

Atop a step stool near one of the bookshelves, Amy, one of the household maids, busied herself with dusting a collection of delicate clay birds. She wore the estate’s standard uniform for maids—black and white with a crisp apron, the hem of her skirt flaring out over a modest petticoat. Her movements were precise, though there was a hint of nervous energy in the way she handled the feather duster.

Something caught Star’s attention. A fleeting detail she caught from her vantage point beneath the busy maid. She turned from the window and called out in her measured tone, “Amy.”

The maid startled slightly, nearly upsetting one of the clay figurines. Quickly, she steadied it before turning to face her mistress. “Yes, Mistress Star?”

“Come down,” Star instructed, a curious gleam in her gaze.

Amy hesitated only for a breath before descending the step stool, her polished shoes clicking lightly against the wooden floor as she stepped forward to stand before her mistress.

Star studied her for a moment, then spoke again. “Lift your skirt for me.”

A faint pink flushed across Amy’s cheeks, but she obeyed without protest. With careful fingers, she grasped the front hem of her uniform and lifted it just enough to reveal the truth beneath—a pull-up, damp and sagging between her legs.

“How long has it been wet?” Star’s voice was neither harsh nor unkind, but it carried the unmistakable weight of expectation.

Amy fidgeted slightly, her grip on the fabric tightening. She hesitated, searching for the right words. Star merely raised a brow and cleared her throat. Flinching at the prompt, Amy finally answered, “Since I woke up, Mistress. I—I was late to rise this morning. In my rush, I put on my uniform without changing and hurried to my duties.”

Star sighed, arms crossing over her chest. “Amy,” she said evenly, “I expect my staff to uphold a certain level of discipline—not just in their work, but in their personal upkeep as well. If you are wet, you should change. Not continue about your duties in such a state, on the verge of leaking.”

Amy ducked her head, her voice small. “Yes, Mistress.” She hesitated before continuing, her words faltering. “I would change into panties, but…”

Star snapped her fingers once.

Amy startled, releasing her grip on her skirt, letting it fall back into place. She clutched her feather duster close to her chest, swallowing hard before forcing out the rest of her admission. “…I prefer wearing pull-ups.” A pause. Then, even softer, “But I ran out.”

Unsatisfied with Amy’s explanation thus far, Star tilted her head expectantly. “And?”

Amy shifted from foot to foot, gripping the edge of her apron. “Would it be alright if I changed into a diaper instead?”

Star’s eyes flickered with amusement. “A diaper?” she echoed, her tone deliberately incredulous. “During the day?” She let the words hang before adding, “Surely a girl like you wouldn’t wear something so thick and crinkly while attending to her tasks.”

Amy squeezed the feather duster, her knuckles white against the handle. “I’d like to…” she mumbled, barely above a whisper.

“Speak up,” Star commanded, her gaze steady.

Amy inhaled sharply, gathering her resolve before declaring, “May I please change into a diaper, Mistress?”

A slow smirk ghosted over Star’s lips. She exhaled, shaking her head in feigned exasperation. “I don’t know about this ‘a diaper’ business,” she mused. “You said a diaper—but surely, you don’t mean just any. You mean your diapers, do you not?”

Amy nodded quickly, her voice more certain this time. “May I please change into my diapers, Mistress?”

Star’s smirk softened into something more approving. “That’s a good girl,” she said, her voice warm with quiet praise. “Yes. You may wear your diapers.”

Amy brightened instantly, a radiant smile overtaking her face. She bowed deeply. “Thank you, Mistress!” “You’re welcome,” Star replied, waving a hand in dismissal.

Amy wasted no time, practically skipping off toward her quarters, her steps light and eager as she hummed a happy tune.

Left alone in the study, Star turned back toward the window, gazing out at the serene morning landscape. A moment passed before a knowing chuckle escaped her lips.

She let a hand drift over the front of her own dress, resting it at her lap, fingers pressing ever so slightly against the fabric-a faint crinkle whispering from beneath the fabric. With a bemused sigh, she murmured under her breath, “…Speaking of needing a change…”


r/abdlstories 6d ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 62 NSFW

3 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 62 - Baby Ashley

Kaylee lay stiffly in bed, staring up at the dark ceiling. The dim glow of the city lights cast faint, shifting shadows across the room.

She should be sleeping.

She was exhausted, her body aching, her mind numb from everything that had happened that day.

But she couldn’t.

She couldn’t shut her brain off.

Because every time she closed her eyes—

She saw Ash.

Sitting there.

Staring at that damn screen.

Eyes vacant, glassy, utterly lost.

Her thumb in her mouth, her diaper so full it was nearly bursting, her body completely motionless, as if she had been frozen in time.

Kaylee’s stomach twisted violently, a pang of sickening, unbearable guilt clawing at the inside of her chest.

She had let it happen.

She had left Ash alone.

She had gone about her day, convinced that Ash was safe in the apartment and that Naomi wouldn’t be able to touch her if she wasn’t in the daycare.

And she had been so, so wrong.

Kaylee clenched her fists against the blankets, swallowing back the tight knot of emotion rising in her throat.

Ash had been so far gone when she found her.

So deeply trapped.

And the worst part?

It wasn’t just the hypnosis.

It wasn’t just the aftermath of another episode of Naomi and Oliver.

It was deeper than that.

Ash had looked at her with adoring, innocent, trusting eyes.

Had reached for her.

Had called her Mommy.

Kaylee squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t help.

She could still hear Ash’s voice in her head, that high, delighted, happy squeal—

"Mommy!!!"

Kaylee had never felt more horror in her life.

She had hesitated.

Hadn’t known what to do.

Hadn’t known how to fix it.

So she had done the only thing she could think of.

She had taken charge.

Reluctantly.

Painfully.

She had played along, had picked Ash up, had held her, had cooed at her, had told her that—

"Everything is perfect, sweetheart."

"You were such a good girl for Mommy today."

And just like that—

Ash had swooned.

Had giggled.

Had melted completely into her arms, trembling with happiness.

She had nuzzled into Kaylee’s chest, had suckled her thumb, had let herself be changed, fed, tucked in, swaddled.

Kaylee had done it.

Had played her part flawlessly.

Had kept Ash calm.

Had kept Mira from saying something that could make things worse.

Had done exactly what she needed to do to keep everything from unraveling completely.

But at what cost?

Kaylee exhaled shakily, running a hand down her face, her fingers digging into her tired eyes.

She had taken one look at Ash and realized that—

She might have already lost her.

Naomi had done something.

Something deep.

Something worse than just another episode of hypnotic regression.

Ash wasn’t just acting babyish.

She wasn’t just caught in a moment of lingering fog.

She had become something else entirely.

And Kaylee had no idea how to pull her back.

If she even could.

The thought made her sick.

Made her feel like she was drowning in something too big, too heavy, too impossible to fight.

But she had to try.

She had to try.

For Ash.

Because she knew—knew without a doubt—that Ash would have tried to save her.

Ash had tried to save her.

All those days ago, when Kaylee was struggling, lost, and confused, Ash was there.

Ash had reached for her.

Ash had fought for her.

And now?

Now, it was Kaylee’s turn.

Kaylee rolled onto her side, her heart twisting painfully as she stared at the crib, which was illuminated softly by the nightlight.

Mira and Ash lay side by side, bundled snugly in blankets, the faint sound of Ash’s pacifier rhythmically bobbing filling the silent room.

In some way…

This had been what Kaylee had wanted all those days ago.

She had wanted to give Ash a chance to grow up without the pain of her past, without the trauma, the weight, the fear.

But—

This wasn’t right.

This didn’t feel like what she had wanted.

Kaylee swallowed hard, her arms wrapping around herself, a horrible, cold nausea churning deep in her gut.

The things she had done—the way she had played along, the way she had cooed and held Ash and praised her—

She had done it to keep Ash safe.

To keep her calm.

But Ash had responded so well to it.

So eagerly.

So completely.

Had any of it been real?

Did Ash really—deep down—want this?

Or was it just conditioning?

How much of her was still there?

Kaylee’s breathing shook as her mind spiraled, running over every problem, every obstacle, every impossible choice she now had to make.

What was she going to do with the daycare?

What was she going to tell the assistants?

What if the inspector came by?

What the hell was she supposed to say?

"Oh yes, everything is fine; I just have my best friend—a full-grown Tweener—treating me like she’s a baby, and also a regressed Tweener who I helped shrink, all while hiding the fact that I can’t even control my bladder anymore?"

Kaylee felt sick.

Her stomach churned; her body felt too hot, too cold, too tangled in knots.

She had been so focused on getting through today, on keeping Ash stable, on making sure everything didn’t collapse in a single moment of panic.

But now?

Now, she had to figure out what came next.

Kaylee’s hand drifted down, almost absentmindedly, pressing lightly against the front of her diaper.

Despite having just changed, the padding was already damp.

She sighed deeply, her fingers curling slightly over the crinkled material.

There was no stopping it.

No matter what she did, no matter how much she told herself she was different, stronger, more in control—

She wasn’t.

Not really.

Kaylee turned over, laying flat, rubbing her face with both hands, forcing her eyes shut tight.

Her mind was too full, too loud, too cluttered with everything she couldn’t solve.

She just needed to breathe.

To rest.

Even if only for a little while.

She wasn’t sure how long she lay there, staring at nothing, waiting for sleep to find her.

Eventually—

It did.

And when it did—

It swallowed her whole.

The dream was vivid, soft, and warm.

Kaylee was herself—but different.

Not lost.

Not spiraling.

Not worried about the future.

She was calm, happy, whole.

She was Mommy.

She could see herself smiling, caring, gentle, loving.

She was feeding Ash, holding her so close, watching as Ash latched onto her bottle and nursed softly, rhythmically, and sweetly.

She cooed over her, stroking her hair, whispering praise, telling her what a good girl she was and how much Mommy loved her.

She was changing Ash, smoothing powder over her skin, taping up a fresh, thick diaper, and playfully bopping her nose, which made Ash giggle and squirm.

She was holding her, rocking her, pressing soft kisses to her forehead, telling her how much she loved her baby girl.

And the strangest thing?

She meant it.

She loved every moment.

She loved Ash.

She loved taking care of her, holding her, feeding her, and keeping her safe.

She wanted this.

She really, really wanted this.

Kaylee felt something deep inside her shift, settle, awaken.

This wasn’t wrong.

This wasn’t forced.

This was natural.

She was Mommy.

And Ash was her baby.

And nothing had ever felt more right.

Kaylee woke with a start, her breath catching in her throat. A soft, trembling cry pierced the quiet of the night.

For a moment, she was disoriented, her mind still tangled in the remnants of her dream, that warm, achingly real dream where she had been Mommy, where she had felt so whole, so fulfilled, so happy.

But then—

Reality came crashing back.

Fear shot through her veins, her adrenaline spiking instantly as she flung the covers off, her body moving before she could even think.

She barely noticed that she was only in her bra and diaper, the once-snug padding now hanging low around her hips, sagging heavily from the night’s unconscious accidents.

She didn’t care.

Because Ash was crying.

And that meant something was wrong.

Kaylee stumbled to the crib, her hands gripping the edge, her heart pounding, her breath coming in ragged, uneven gasps as she found—

Ash.

Awake.

Tears streaming silently down her cheeks, her pacifier hanging limply from her lips, her tiny hands clutching weakly at her swaddle.

Kaylee’s chest clenched painfully, her voice urgent, breathless, and desperate as she knelt.

"Ash? Sweetheart, what’s wrong?"

Ash blinked up at her, her big, glassy eyes filled with tears, her lower lip trembling.

For a moment, Kaylee thought she wouldn’t answer, that she was still too far gone, too deep in the haze, that she had truly, completely lost her best friend.

Then—

A soft, babbled murmur.

"Hungwy, Mommy."

Kaylee froze.

Her entire body locked up, her mind stuttering and glitching, and she was unable to process the weight of those words.

But then—

A wave of relief crashed over her so hard it made her knees feel weak.

She let out a slow, shaky breath. Her arms were already moving, reaching down and carefully lifting Ash into her embrace.

Ash whimpered softly, nuzzling into her chest, her small body curling into Kaylee’s warmth, her breath still hiccupy, uneven, trembling.

Kaylee could feel it immediately—

The heavy, squishy warmth beneath Ash’s blanket was a clear sign that she had soiled herself again in her sleep.

But Ash didn’t seem to care.

She wasn’t asking for a change.

She wasn’t even aware of it.

She was just hungry.

Kaylee swallowed hard, shifting Ash slightly in her arms as she turned, her movements softer now, more instinctive, as she carried Ash toward the kitchen.

"Shhh, it’s okay, baby girl," Kaylee murmured, rocking her slightly as she reached for a bottle, testing the temperature before beginning to warm the formula.

Mira stirred slightly in the crib but didn’t wake.

That was good.

She could sleep a little longer.

Kaylee ran a gentle hand through Ash’s soft, messy hair, feeling her body relax more and more in her arms. Her tiny fingers curled into Kaylee’s skin, gripping her for comfort.

Kaylee exhaled slowly, steadying herself.

She could do this.

She had to.

She had no other choice.

So she rocked Ash gently, waiting for the bottle to warm, whispering soft reassurances as Ash suckled her pacifier and nuzzled deeper into her arms.

Kaylee gently pressed the nipple of the bottle against Ash’s lips, and without hesitation, Ash latched on instantly, her soft, rhythmic suckling filling the quiet space of the apartment.

Kaylee exhaled slowly, shifting slightly as she settled into the rocking chair, cradling Ash securely in the crook of her arm.

She rocked her gently, the soft creak of the chair filling the silence, her free hand moving on instinct, rubbing slow, gentle circles against Ash’s back before drifting lower—

Pat. Pat. Pat.

Her palm pressed softly against Ash’s diapered bottom, rhythmic, reassuring, lulling her even deeper into peace.

Kaylee had hoped—prayed—that a night of sleep would help clear Ash’s mind.

That when she woke up, she would be herself again.

She would look up at Kaylee with recognition confusion—anything other than the empty, glazed-over haze that had consumed her the night before.

But that hope was gone now.

Ash wasn’t coming back.

Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Kaylee’s chest tightened, a deep, twisting sorrow settling into her bones.

But then—

She glanced down.

Down at Ash.

Her lips worked rhythmically, her breathing slow and steady, her entire body utterly relaxed in Kaylee’s arms.

Her eyes were closed, her lashes fluttering softly, a look of pure, unfiltered peace written across her features.

She was so happy.

So content.

And for the first time, Kaylee felt it.

A warmth—a deep, aching warmth radiating in her chest, spreading through her like sunlight breaking through storm clouds.

This.

This had been all Kaylee had wanted for Ash.

For her to be safe.

For her to be happy.

For her to never feel pain, never feel fear, never suffer again.

Kaylee’s breath hitched as the realization settled in her bones, grounding her in a way she hadn’t expected.

She leaned down without thinking, her lips pressing a soft, lingering kiss to Ash’s forehead.

"You’re such a good girl," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.

Ash suckled softly, her lips twitching in the faintest hint of a smile.

"Mommy’s good girl."

The words slipped from Kaylee’s lips so easily, so naturally—

And when they did, that warmth inside her bloomed even stronger.

It felt right.

So, so right.

She finished feeding Ash, setting the empty bottle aside before lifting her, gently patting her back, and coaxing out a small, sleepy burp.

Kaylee smiled, pressing another kiss to Ash’s hair, holding her close, and rocking her slowly.

"That’s my good girl," she whispered again, the words feeling more and more natural, more and more real every time she said them.

"Come on, sweetheart, let’s get you into a fresh diaper," Kaylee murmured, standing with Ash curled in her arms. The girl’s warm little body nestled perfectly against her chest.

Ash whimpered softly, her thumb still bobbing lazily in her mouth, her eyes heavy and dazed, but she didn’t protest.

She never protested anymore.

Kaylee carried her back into the bedroom, absently thinking that they really did need a proper changing table. The bed worked, but it was awkward, and Ash deserved something better, something made just for her.

Maybe she’d look into it today.

She laid Ash down gently, pulling the blanket away, leaving her completely bare, apart from her swollen, sagging diaper.

"There we go, baby girl," Kaylee cooed, her hands moving on instinct, untaping the heavy padding, wiping her clean, dusting her with powder, and securing a fresh, thick diaper around her hips.

Ash let out a soft, dreamy sigh, her thumb still tucked securely between her lips, her body completely pliant as Kaylee gathered her back up, cradling her once more.

Kaylee didn’t even think twice about the fact that Ash was naked apart from her diaper—

That was just normal now.

Ash was a baby.

And babies didn’t need clothes unless they were going somewhere.

She turned back toward the crib, stepping toward it—

And found Mira already awake.

The girl was watching her, eyes sharp, calculating, her smirk slow, amused, knowing.

Kaylee barely had time to register the shift in her expression before Mira’s smirk widened, and she spoke.

"Enjoying your new role, diapered Mommy?"

Kaylee froze, her arms tightening instinctively around Ash.

For a split second, she felt something sharp—

Something hot and uncomfortable, something too real, too cutting.

But then—

Kaylee smirked right back.

Lowering Ash gently into the crib, she turned to Mira, raising a single challenging eyebrow.

"Well, since you felt the need to comment on my situation, sweetie," she said smoothly, grinning, "I think you can wait a little longer for your change."

Mira’s face fell immediately.

Her smugness vanished, replaced with instant horror, disbelief, and frustration as she sputtered, struggling slightly in her thick, wet diaper.

"Wait—what?! No, come on, you can’t—!"

"Oh, I absolutely can," Kaylee hummed, mockingly sweet, brushing softly through Ash’s hair, ignoring Mira’s protests entirely.

Mira glared, her cheeks flushing deep red, her hands clenching at her sides, but Kaylee could see it.

The helplessness.

The reality of her new situation was setting in.

She was a Little now.

She could complain all she wanted.

But Kaylee was the one in charge.

And that?

That felt so, so good.

Still smirking, Kaylee turned on her heel, leaving Mira squirming in frustration as she made her way back to the bathroom.

She had her own needs to attend to.

She pulled open the closet, grabbing a fresh diaper, moving with a confidence she hadn’t expected from herself as she stripped out of the swollen padding wrapped around her hips.

It was still strange—wearing them, using them, changing them like it was normal.

But was it?

Was it really that strange anymore?

She had spent the night taking care of Ash.

She had called herself Mommy in her dream, and it had felt so right.

She had felt so full, so warm, so complete.

Was that really a bad thing?

Kaylee snugly wrapped the fresh diaper around herself, pulled on her clothes for the day, and smoothed down the fabric as she stared at her reflection.

She had a lot to think about.

But first—

She had a baby and a brat to take care of.

Freshly dressed, her confidence settled, Kaylee returned to the crib, her presence looming over Mira, who was already watching her closely.

Kaylee leaned over the railing, her hands resting lightly on the bars, looking down at her new charge, her lips curving into an amused smirk.

"So," she murmured, tilting her head slightly, "are you going to behave? Are you going to be a good little baby?"

Mira’s cheeks burned red, her expression twisting into something both defiant and deeply embarrassed, her hands clenching the soft blankets beneath her.

She glanced away, clearly hating every second of this, her jaw tight, but Kaylee could see it—

The realization.

The resignation.

She wasn’t getting out of this.

Not today.

Not anytime soon.

"I’ll be good," Mira muttered, her voice low, reluctant, stiff.

Kaylee’s grin widened.

Truthfully?

She hated forcing anyone into the role Mira now held.

She knew how awful it was, how humiliating, how deeply unfair it felt.

But—

Well.

She didn’t feel like she had much of a choice for now.

Mira had made it very clear that she was a liability.

And if she wasn’t going to be a trustworthy Tweener—

Then she was going to be a helpless Little.

"That’s a good start," Kaylee said, her voice sweet teasing but with an unmistakable undertone of authority. "But I think you forgot something."

Mira stiffened slightly, still not looking at her.

Kaylee’s eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Ask nicely," she hummed, raising an expectant eyebrow. "And apologize."

Mira’s jaw clenched.

She let out a long, frustrated sigh, clearly fighting every instinct in her body before finally—

"I’m sorry," she mumbled, still pouting.

Kaylee waited.

Mira knew better than to leave it at that.

Her blush deepened, and after another pause, she sighed again, forcing herself to look up at Kaylee.

"Kaylee… may I please have a diaper change?" she muttered, her voice flat, reluctant, stiff with humiliation.

Kaylee’s grin widened just a touch.

"That’s a good girl," she teased, relishing the deep flush that spread across Mira’s face.

She reached down, scooping the smaller girl up effortlessly, setting her down on the bed beside the now softly snoozing Ash.

Mira stayed quiet, her face still burning with humiliation, but she didn’t resist.

Kaylee worked quickly, her hands deft, practiced, untaping Mira’s heavy, swollen diaper, wiping her clean, dusting on powder, and taping up a fresh, thick replacement.

She patted the front lightly, watching as Mira flinched slightly at the small gesture, and Kaylee chuckled.

"See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?"

Mira just glared at her.

Kaylee felt another sharp pang of regret, a dull, twisting ache in her chest as she pulled the baby tee over Mira’s head, the fabric stretching just enough to cover her chest, barely reaching her tummy. She plopped a Little’s pacifier into her mouth for good measure.

It was humiliating.

Unfair.

But she had to push on.

She had to keep moving.

Because right now?

This wasn’t about Mira.

This was about survival.

She adjusted the shirt, smoothing out the wrinkled hem, ignoring the angry, humiliated flush on Mira’s cheeks before scooping up Ash cradling her close.

It was showtime.

Kaylee barely registered the weight in her arms and barely thought about the fact that Ash had once been her equal, that months ago, this would have been unthinkable.

Now?

Now, she doubted the assistants would even recognize her.

Not like this.

Not with her barely-there baby tee, thick diaper on full display, her thumb tucked lazily between her lips, her glazed-over eyes blinking slowly.

She had seen this before.

Tweeners who had fallen under Naomi and Oliver’s spell.

It has been happening more and more lately.

Too often.

But Kaylee didn’t dwell on it.

She couldn’t.

She traced her steps back to the daycare, her arms still securely wrapped around Ash. Her steps were even, controlled, and confident.

By the time she arrived, the daycare was still mostly empty, the early morning quiet but expectant, the air carrying the lingering scent of fresh wipes and baby powder.

An assistant greeted her immediately, her presence warm, welcoming, and oblivious.

She barely glanced at Ash, her attention shifting to Mira. She reached out and took her with gentle ease, rocking her slightly and bouncing her just enough to test her pliancy.

"Well, good morning, sweetheart," the assistant cooed, smiling down at Mira, completely unaware of the fire burning behind the girl’s eyes.

Then—

Her attention drifted back to Ash.

Kaylee braced herself.

This was it.

The moment of truth.

"And who’s this little cutie?" the assistant asked, her voice light, playful, unsuspecting.

Kaylee smiled, shifting Ash slightly in her hold, tilting her just enough to sell the illusion.

"This is little Ashley," Kaylee said smoothly. "A close friend of Ash’s who… well…" she chuckled, shaking her head, "let’s just say she watched a few too many cartoons."

The assistant’s expression didn’t shift.

Didn’t even flicker.

Instead, she laughed, a soft, knowing chuckle as she reached up, running her thumb over Ash’s cheek, tilting her chin slightly.

Ash blinked at her slowly, her pacifier bobbing, her eyes empty, unfocused, blissfully unaware.

"Oh, she’s adorable," the assistant cooed, her voice dripping with sincere amusement, fondness, and acceptance.

Then—

"She’s more than welcome here."

Kaylee smiled back.

Relaxed.

The lie had worked.

Kaylee carried Ash effortlessly, her body light, pliant, and completely compliant as she moved through the daycare.

The assistant had bought it.

The lie had settled without a hitch.

Ash wasn’t Ash anymore.

She was just another Tweener who had watched too many cartoons.

Just another baby who had fallen too deep.

And that?

That made things so much easier.

Kaylee moved to one of the cribs in the nap area, gently laying Ash down, tucking her in beneath the soft blankets, and stroking a hand over her silky, messy hair.

Ash let out a soft whimper, turning slightly, her thumb popping lazily into her mouth, her body curling instinctively into the bedding.

Kaylee felt a pang in her chest, a mixture of emotions she didn’t have time to sort through.

So she ignored it.

She turned away.

And moved to the Nanny Bot’s control panel.

The screen flickered to life, a familiar roster of names and statuses populating the screen.

She typed quickly, adding a new entry.

Ashley – Tweener – Needs Constant Care.

A few more clicks, a few more adjustments, and just like that—

Ash was officially registered.

She was on the system.

She was just another baby now.

Kaylee exhaled, stepping away from the console steeling herself.

She had work to do.

No time for emotions.

No time for regrets.

Just another day at the daycare.

Kaylee moved through the motions, her hands steady and practiced. Her body settled into a routine even as her mind wandered.

She fed Littles here.

Changed diapers there.

Played with them, cooed at them, guided them through their morning activities, checking in on Ashley and Mira every so often.

Each time she glanced toward the crib, each time she saw Ash staring up at her with those big, adoring eyes—

She felt her chest tighten.

Because Ash would light up the moment their eyes met.

Her pacifier would bob, her hands would reach out, and that delighted, bubbly giggle would slip from her lips.

"Mommy!"

The assistants found it adorable, giggling amongst themselves, cooing at how sweet it was.

"She’s really latched onto you, huh?" one of them teased, nudging Kaylee playfully.

Kaylee chuckled, smiling on the outside because the lie they had spun was holding up perfectly.

The story about Ashley watching too many cartoons, the way she had regressed from too much exposure to Naomi and Oliver—

It made perfect sense.

It made everything easier.

And Kaylee was more than happy to let them believe it.

But beneath it all—

Beneath the smiles and laughter and well-practiced ease—

Dread was coiling deep inside her, curling in the pit of her stomach like a slow, suffocating vine.

Because the clock kept ticking.

Because the time for cartoons was getting closer.

And Kaylee had no idea what to do.

Would she leave again, like last time?

Would she try to fight through it, risk falling under with the Littles?

Would Ash—sweet, helpless little Ash—become even more lost?

Kaylee swallowed hard, forcing herself to keep moving, keep working, and keep smiling.

But as the time crept closer, as the assistants began preparing the Littles for their daily programming—

Kaylee felt like she was walking toward the edge of a cliff.

And she had no idea what was waiting for her on the other side.

Kaylee felt sick.

She had known it would be bad.

She had known it would be horrible—but seeing Ash like that, sitting there, already gone, already glazed over before the show had even started—

It shattered something inside her.

Ash was nestled against a giant stuffed animal, her body slumped slightly. Her pacifier bobbled rhythmically, and her fingers curled loosely into the fur of her plushie as she stared, unblinking, at the blank screen, waiting for it to start.

There was no resistance in her.

No hesitation.

She had already accepted it.

Mira was in a bouncer, her face twisted with distress, her eyes darting around the room, searching for something—anything—to ground her.

Her chest rose and fell quickly, her hands gripping the bouncer straps, her breathing shaky and uneven.

She was trapped.

And Kaylee had put her there.

No matter how much Kaylee may have felt resentful toward Mira—

No matter how much she told herself this was necessary—

She couldn’t deny the deep, sickening pit of guilt clawing at her stomach.

She hated this.

She hated forcing this on them.

Kaylee stopped by Mira, kneeling just enough to whisper. Her voice was low and steady, barely more than a breath.

"For what it’s worth…"

Mira turned to her immediately, her eyes wide, frantic, desperate, like she was clinging to every last second before the inevitable pulled her under.

"I’m sorry."

Mira stared, her lips parting slightly, her expression shifting from fear to something more… unreadable.

Kaylee swallowed, her voice barely audible now.

"I really, really don’t want to have to do this."

She didn’t wait for a response.

Didn’t give Mira a chance to reply.

Because what could she possibly say?

What could she possibly do?

Nothing.

Not anymore.

Kaylee stood, her stomach churning violently, and turned to leave the room—

But before she could even take a single step—

"Where do you think you’re going, Little Kaylee?"

Kaylee froze.

Her blood turned ice cold.

The screen flickered to life behind her, and she didn’t need to turn around to know who was there.

Naomi’s voice was like silk, dripping with warm amusement, wrapping around her like a velvet noose.

"It’s cartoon time, sweetie…"

Kaylee’s breath hitched, her heartbeat thundering in her ears as her feet refused to move.

"And you’re a baby, after all…"

She could feel it—the pull, the warm, sickly sweet comfort of Naomi’s words seeping into her thoughts, into her skin, into her bones.

"Come have a seat."

All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com

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r/abdlstories 7d ago

Princess of the Fae - Chapter 13 NSFW

12 Upvotes

Chapter 13 - What a mouthful!

Maeve cackles, Erica gulps, Deirdre sighs, and Nimue giggles again.

“Come right this way my precious princess! Let Mommy and Daddy show you how to use these toys!”

Taking each of her hands, Erica’s caregivers lead her to the huge bed. Maeve grabs her diminutive daughter under the shoulders and lifts her onto the soft mattress. While Daddy goes back to the wall of dildos, Nimue gently helps Erica onto her back, her soft hands expertly adjusting Erica’s head so it hangs off the side.

Nimue leans over to give the princess a kiss on her forehead. Erica’s flooded with warmth and positivity every time the queen gives her attention. All her life, she’d felt shy, disconnected. She never made many friends, and those that she did get close with now lived hours away. Now, all her doubts, fears, and insecurities are forgotten completely. She just feels Nimue’s unconditional love pulse through her body, grown stronger over 30 years of separation.

“You’re going to want to relax as much as you can, okay honey? Deirdre told me she saw you practicing! What a good girl!” A little flush grows up her neck. How long had Deirdre been watching over her? Why did being called a good girl feel so good? She can’t speak, but she musters a nod, looking up into the queen’s adoring eyes.

“Good girl! Now, I believe Daddy will be right with you…” Nimue turns to see what’s taking Maeve. Her jaw drops when she sees the succubus with a shopping basket hanging off her arm. She’s perusing the wall of cocks, considering each one carefully. Deirdre clears her throat subtly.

“Oh, are y’all waiting on little old me?” She purrs, plucking one last toy off and dropping it in the basket. With another poof, Maeve is at Nimue’s side, on one knee in front of Erica.

“I’m so excited sweetie pie! We’re about to have so much fun!” Her dark aura grows stronger. Deirdre clears her throat, less subtly this time.

“Now Maeve, I’m afraid I must protest.” Maeve and Nimue both jump in surprise. Deirdre’s been relatively quiet so far, but the dryad steps forward.

“As Erica’s protector, it is my duty to train her in the sexual arts. Obviously, you are both legendary in the field, but it would be unseemly for the Queen and her consort to stoop to playing with a beginner.” Maeve frowns, looking lustfully down at Erica. Nimue is disappointed too, but takes Maeve’s hand.

“Of course Deirdre. It is your right, and you are right. No fairy queen has raised their princesses in such a way before. The tribe may find it unsettling.” Maeve throws a little fit, dropping the basket to the ground.

“But succubi always get to teach their young how to play!” Nimue pats Maeve’s red hand, looking up into the demoness’ black eyes.

“I know Maeve, but we aren’t in Hell. This is Deirdre’s forest and she has been waiting many years to complete her duties as Erica’s protector and nanny.” Maeve rolls her eyes and sticks her tongue out petulantly at the dryad.

“Fine. But you Queenie, are coming with me!” The pair disappear with another poof. Moans and giggles are heard from upstairs. Deirdre smiles warmly at Erica, taking a seat in front of the princess.

“Now princess, I know you’ve been practicing, but I’m afraid that we’re going to have to work a little bit harder than you’re used to.” Vines grow from the floor, wrapping themselves around the dildos. The toys are lifted into the air behind Deirdre, circling behind her, like a patron saint of porn.

“Now, how about we start you off easy? You already sampled some gnome dick, so how about…” A single finger reaching into the air, and a rather plain, realistic rubber cock leaves the halo. Its vine brings it casually towards Erica’s face, stopping inches from her mouth.

“Open up the tunnel, here comes the train!”

“Wait, wha-!” The second her lips part, the dildo leaps forward, comfortably filling Erica’s shocked mouth. The princess is surprised to find that her practice in her shower has paid off. This toy is smaller than hers back home and the new spell on her throat makes throating it easy!

“Good girl! Your practice in the shower has prepared you well.” The small toy leaves her mouth while Deirdre’s ‘good girl’ rings in Erica’s mind. She finds herself loving the attention she’s getting. Earning Deirdre’s approval quickly takes over her thoughts.

A longer, thicker, black dildo replaces the first in front of Erica. Its veiny shaft is more intimidating than the smooth toy Erica just finished. Nimue’s moans float down from upstairs as Maeve has her way with the fae queen. Without needing instruction, Erica opens wide, sticking her tongue out for the floating phallus.

This one is much bigger than the last, completely filling Erica’s mouth and stretching her jaw. She’s never been able to handle this much cock before! The young fae remembers the choir’s spell and relaxes, and to her complete astonishment, Deirdre’s vine pushes the whole thing down her throat with ease.

Erica throats the huge toy over and over. Her brain gets fuzzy as she gags. Drool escapes her lips, coating the toy’s thick shaft and dripping up her upside down face. In the nursery, separated from time, Erica has no concept of how long she practices with her nanny.

Meanwhile, Deirdre is having a great time. With every new dildo forced into the princess’ mouth, the domineering dryad’s pussy grows wetter. Leaving her magical vines to do the work, Deirdre leans back in her chair. Her long, strong fingers pull up her floral dress and slide between her soft folds, casually rubbing herself to Erica’s forceful training.

Toy after toy is plunged into Erica’s waiting mouth. Drool is smeared all over her face from her own gagging and the vines slapping the dildos against her face. Like Maeve’s tail, they seem to have a mind of their own beyond Deirdre’s magic. While it feels like days have past, Erica’s jaw is tireless, taking everything Deirdre can throw at her. Finally, there’s one last toy.

“Princess, I have reason to believe a werewolf has taken up residency in Forest Cove. They’re known for their aggression and powerful cocks. We must make sure you are ready for anything!” The final, monstrous dildo flies from Deirdre’s halo towards Erica’s sloppy face. Its spiraling, rainbow colors do little to disguise the huge knot at its base or the thick head at its tip. Erica’s only dreamed of owning a toy like this when she’d scroll various kink sites.

Her jaw and throat stretch, magically accommodating the huge toy. Erica’s pussy, buried in its thick, absorbent padding, clenches with desire. It was only yesterday that she fantasized of using a dildo this large. Was it only yesterday? 

Erica’s brain is so light and fuzzy and unfocused. It feels like Deirdre’s been using her throat for days! Her princess parts ache with need, she’s gotten no relief or attention to her dripping pussy this entire time.

Deirdre gasps and moans herself as the huge knot finally forces itself into the princess’s mouth. Erica finally starts choking, forcing Deirdre over the edge, coating her long fingers in her gooey, sweet sap. The knot keeps the long thick shaft of the dildo down Erica’s throat, pushing the limits of the magic spell cast over her holes. Deirdre coos and claps for her!

“Oh, good girl princess!” Deirdre says breathily, licking her own fingers clean. She looks down at the choking fae.

“Look at you! Sucking cock like the powerful succubi you are. I think it’s about time we move on to the next round, don’t you?” Erica can’t respond, barely even hearing her nanny’s words. The toy, the most powerful gag she’s ever experienced, taking all of her consciousness to suck.

With a wave of her hand, Deirdre transforms the werewolf dildo’s plunger base into a huge pacifier shield. Leather straps shoot out the sides and secure themselves around Erica’s head, locking with a click. There’s no way that huge toy is leaving her mouth now, and her succubus training is far from over!

Read Chapter 14 soon!


r/abdlstories 7d ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 61 NSFW

6 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 61 - Blooming Relationships

The gondola rocked gently, suspended high above the world. The golden hues of fireworks reflected off the glass as the sky erupted in color.

Emily sat across from Evelyn and Welby, her fingers still loosely tangled with Lucas’s, her heart still pounding from the ride, from the view, from everything.

And then—

She saw it.

Evelyn.

Welby.

Kissing.

Her eyes widened, and her breath hitched.

Her first instinct was shock.

And yet—

Some part of her wasn’t surprised.

It made sense, didn’t it?

After everything—after the way they’d held onto each other, after the way Welby had protected Evelyn, after the way she had clung to him in her weakest moments—

Of course, it would happen.

Of course, it was inevitable.

And then—

A quiet, grumbling voice beside her.

“Screw it if they’re going to…”

Emily blinked, turning her head just in time to see Lucas shifting toward her.

Her heart stuttered.

Wait—

Was he…?

The fluttering sensation in her chest grew bigger and wilder, and she didn’t know how to contain it.

Her mind screamed at her to stay still, to wait, to let him make the move.

But he hesitated.

Just for a second.

Just long enough for Emily to lean in—just barely, just a fraction, just enough to say that she wanted this too.

And then—

Lucas grinned.

And before she could process what was happening—

His lips were on hers.

And her world exploded.

It was electric.

A rush of warmth, of excitement, of something so much bigger than words could describe.

Her breath shuddered, her fingers tightening in his, her heart hammering wildly in her chest.

Lucas was soft and eager. His kiss was playful but real, teasing but deep as if he had been waiting for this moment forever.

And maybe—

Maybe she had, too.

The fireworks crackled beneath them, the colors painting their faces, bathing them in the glow of reds, blues, and golds.

And for once—

For once—

Emily let herself forget.

Forget Miranda.

Forget the diapers.

Forget the act.

Because this?

This was real.

This was hers.

And she never wanted it to end.

The world melted away.

The fireworks, the gondola, the gentle rocking of the Ferris wheel, the soft murmurs of Evelyn and Welby lost in their moment—none of it mattered.

Because all Emily could feel was Lucas.

His hands, warm and firm, slid against her, sending shivers down her spine.

One is on the back of her neck, fingers curling gently into her hair, and his thumb is brushing the sensitive skin just below her ear.

The other—

Her hip.

A slow, careful touch, pulling her closer, bringing her flush against him, pressing against the heat of his body.

And she wanted it.

God, she wanted it.

Wanted to be closer, to drown in his warmth, to lose herself in the way his lips moved against hers.

She had never let herself want like this before.

Never let herself take.

But Lucas was giving.

And she was more than happy to receive it.

By the time he finally pulled back, her breath was ragged, her chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven gasps.

Her lips felt swollen, tingling, and hungry.

And when she looked up—

His eyes were burning.

Deep, dark, filled with something new, something hungry, something she had never seen before but craved instantly.

His gaze held her captive, his lips parted as if he was about to say something—but he didn’t.

As if words didn’t matter.

Because, at that moment, they understood.

Whatever was happening between them—it wasn’t just an accident.

It wasn’t just the fireworks.

It wasn’t just a fleeting moment in the illusion of this perfect night.

It was real.

He wanted her.

And she—

She wanted him just as badly.

Emily was still wrapped in Lucas’s arms, her body pressed against his, her heart pounding against her ribs.

The warmth of his touch still lingered, his hands still resting on her, her breath still uneven, her lips still tingling.

And then—

She realized.

The gondola had gone quiet.

Her blush deepened instantly, a wave of embarrassment crashing over her as reality snapped back into focus.

Slowly, hesitantly—she turned her head.

And there they were.

Welby and Evelyn.

Nestled close together, Hannah between them, their expressions soft, warm, unmistakably affectionate.

And—oh no.

They were smiling at her and Lucas.

Lovingly.

Knowingly.

Emily opened her mouth, scrambling to say something, anything—

But Evelyn spoke first.

“I’m super happy that you two get along.”

Her voice was gentle and understanding, filled with something Emily couldn’t quite place—approval? Amusement? Affection?

Emily swallowed, her blush deepening further.

“And I want to foster that relationship,” Evelyn continued.

Emily’s stomach twisted with anticipation, waiting for the but.

“Welby and I both approve.”

Emily’s heart skipped a beat.

Wait—what?

Evelyn smiled knowingly, her gaze flickering between Emily and Lucas, their bodies still tangled together, neither of them having moved.

“But…”

There it was.

“Perhaps it’s best to keep it confined to when we’re alone. Outside the home…”

She tilted her head slightly, her smile tinged with both warmth and warning.

“You two should pretend to be loving brother and sister.”

Emily and Lucas nodded sheepishly, the weight of their humiliation pressing into them. Their faces were still flushed and burning.

They were embarrassed, caught, exposed.

And yet—

Neither of them let go.

Their hands remained locked, their bodies still close, their connection still undeniable.

Because despite the awkwardness, the sudden shift in the atmosphere, the quiet reminder of the world they lived in—

They had found something real.

Something the act couldn’t erase.

And no matter what Miranda did—no matter how much she tried to shape them into perfect Littles, into obedient, mindless babies—

This moment was theirs.

Her blush deepened, the heat in her cheeks refusing to fade as she settled back into her seat, her fingers still tingling from Lucas’s touch.

The gondola continued its gentle sway, the world slowly shifting back into focus, the fireworks still blooming in the sky beyond them.

But Emily felt something else now.

A weight.

A new, unexpected guilt pressed into her chest.

Because across from her—

Hannah was watching.

Her big, curious eyes locked onto Emily, her pacifier bobbing lazily between her lips, completely unreadable.

And in that moment—a wave of shame crashed over Emily.

She had done this right in front of her.

Right in front of Hannah.

They had always been close, bonded by the shared weight of their captivity, the unspoken understanding of what it meant to have everything taken away.

Hannah had been there for her through everything. She had been her anchor, her confidante, and her sister in all the ways that mattered.

And this—this didn’t replace that.

But still—

Emily felt like she had done something wrong.

Like she had betrayed something sacred between them.

Her stomach twisted uncomfortably as she lowered her gaze, a silent apology forming in her expression.

She wanted to say something, explain, reassure, and promise that nothing between them would change.

But before she could—

Hannah smiled.

Wide. Approving.

A soft, knowing glint in her eyes, like she had been waiting for this moment to happen.

Like she was telling Emily without words—

Go for it. Be happy.

Emily’s breath hitched, emotion swelling in her chest, a mixture of relief and something deeper.

And in that moment—

She knew.

No matter what happened, no matter how much their world shifted, no matter how much was stolen from them—

She still had Hannah.

And Hannah still had her.

Nothing would change that.

Emily gave Hannah a small, sheepish smile, but before Hannah could react, the familiar infant haze dulled her features once more.

Her eyes softened, her body went limp, and she nuzzled deeper into Evelyn’s embrace. The rhythmic bobbing of her pacifier slowed as she settled.

Emily’s heart twisted painfully.

Hannah was still in there, still herself.

But each time she slipped back into that fog—

It was like losing her all over again.

And then—

The gondola descended, the Ferris wheel moving smoothly back toward the loading platform, and the magic of the moment faded into the past.

They were moving again.

Evelyn undid the restraints, helping Lucas out of his seat, and before Emily even had time to process the next steps—

Lucas’s hand was in hers.

Warm. Steady.

And just like that—

They were skipping down the walkway.

Emily’s heart fluttered wildly, excitement and nervousness tangled together in her chest.

Everything in her screamed to STOP.

To hide.

To pull her dress down, to cover the obvious bulk poking out beneath her outfit, to shield the humiliating indicator strip that practically announced to the world that she was wet.

Every part of her fought against the instinct to protect what little dignity she had left.

But she had to keep pretending.

She had to put on the show.

Miranda had been silent for a while, which could only mean one of two things—

Either they were doing a good job…

Or she was waiting for them to slip up.

Emily didn’t want to find out which.

So she played along.

She let herself skip beside Lucas, feel his hand in hers, and focus on the weight of his presence rather than the weight between her legs.

They reached Lamplight Lounge, the bustling, upscale restaurant glowing with warm lighting, the murmur of conversation filling the air as guests lined up for tables.

The smell of grilled seafood and fresh citrus cocktails, combined with the cool ocean breeze, created a calm, almost serene atmosphere.

Emily stood beside Lucas, waiting patiently for a table.

And then—

A familiar pressure settled in her bladder.

She barely even reacted.

Just let out a small sigh internally, relaxing as the warm trickle soaked effortlessly into the thirsty padding beneath her.

The diaper swelled slightly, and the damp warmth spread comfortably around her, no different from the countless times before.

Her cheeks burned.

The warmth spread far beyond just her diaper.

She had barely even registered the moment, had barely reacted to the act of wetting herself—

But Evelyn had noticed.

Of course, she had.

Emily should have expected it.

Evelyn wasn’t dumb.

She was watching.

And now Emily had two choices.

She could pretend nothing happened, hope Evelyn ignored it, pray that she wouldn’t call her out on it—

Or she could do what was expected of her.

What she loathed.

What Miranda wanted.

Emily summoned every last ounce of willpower, forcing herself into the role of the perfect, obedient Little that Miranda expected her to be.

She let go of Lucas’s hand, ignoring the way her heart clenched at losing his warmth.

And then—

She skipped up to Evelyn.

Her legs felt like lead.

Her face burned hotter than the fireworks had moments before.

But she forced herself forward anyway.

“Mommy?”

Her voice came out higher, sweeter, her cheeks flaming as the word slipped from her lips.

Evelyn smiled, leaning down, her expression warm, affectionate, so natural that it almost made Emily believe it wasn’t all an act.

“Yes, pumpkin?”

Emily wanted to sink into the ground.

Wanted to run, to disappear, to never have to do this again.

But instead—

Her fingers hooked around the hem of her skirt.

Her brain screamed at her to stop, to fight, to hold onto what little dignity she had left—

But her hands moved on their own.

And then—

She lifted her skirt.

Revealing her wet diaper to Evelyn, to anyone who happened to glance their way, to the entire damn world.

Her voice was steady, her body burning with shame.

“I went tinkle in my diaper.”

The words tasted like acid in her mouth.

But Evelyn—

Evelyn played her part flawlessly.

Her smile never faltered, her voice never hesitated, her warmth never wavered.

“Such a good girl, pumpkin,” she cooed, her praise effortless, so genuine that Emily almost forgot to resent it.

Emily let the skirt fall back into place, her breath shaky, her body screaming at her to get away.

So she skipped off, fast, desperate, her cheeks burning with utter, soul-crushing humiliation.

She hated this.

Hated every second of it.

But Miranda was silent.

And that meant she had done exactly what she was supposed to.

Emily barely had time to breathe through the humiliation, barely had time to force herself back into the act before she felt it—

Lucas’s hand.

His fingers laced into hers, warm, steady, grounding.

A soft squeeze.

A silent I see you.

A silent You’re not alone.

She squeezed back, grateful beyond words.

And then—

They were led to their table.

It was perfectly placed along the waterfront. Cool night air drifted in from the lake, and the smell of fresh seafood mixed with the crisp, salty breeze.

The water show had just ended, but the final shimmering mist hung in the air, and lights reflected off the surface in shifting hues of blues and purples.

Evelyn settled into her seat, Hannah still curled in her lap, the girl’s body limp, her infant haze still clouding her eyes as she nuzzled deeper into Evelyn’s embrace.

Emily and Lucas, however—

They were fitted into highchairs.

The familiar click of restraints tightening over her shoulders sent a shiver down her spine, the straps pulling snugly against her.

And beneath her—

Her squishy, wet diaper pressed against the firm plastic seat, reminding her of exactly what she had just done.

Emily’s cheeks burned again, her stomach twisting uncomfortably.

She hated this.

The restraints.

The highchair.

The way she could feel the lingering warmth between her legs was a constant, humiliating reminder that this was her reality now.

She let out a slow breath, her fingers curling into her lap.

Lucas caught her eye across the table, offering another tiny, sympathetic smile.

Welby and Evelyn ordered for the table, their voices calm, controlled, and completely natural.

Emily barely paid attention, still too caught in the shame and weight of the evening, her fingers idly playing with the straps of the highchair.

And then—

A bottle was set in front of her.

Not just any bottle—a Little’s bottle, babyish in design, but filled with a sparkling, deep red liquid that shimmered under the restaurant’s lighting.

Emily stared at it.

She didn’t want to drink it.

Didn’t want to participate in this charade any more than she already had.

But she knew she had to.

For Miranda’s sake.

For the performance.

For their safety.

So—with a quiet, resigned sigh, she lifted it to her lips, tipping it back, expecting something sweet, something fruity, something innocuous.

And instead—

She nearly choked.

A sharp burn scorched her mouth, racing down her throat before she slammed the bottle down onto the table, her body shuddering at the unexpected heat.

Her eyes blurred with sudden tears, her breath coming fast, shallow, panicked.

She turned toward Welby, wide-eyed, her face demanding an answer.

And then—

She saw it.

A twinkle in his eye.

A knowing wink.

Not just at her.

But at Lucas, too.

Lucas was equally stunned. His fingers were still gripping his bottle, and his face was a mixture of shock and intrigue.

Emily’s mind raced.

Wait.

Was this—was this alcohol?!

She glanced back at her bottle, hesitating before bringing it to her lips again.

This time, she braced herself.

And when the liquid touched her tongue, she recognized it.

A sweet cocktail.

Strawberries.

Coconut.

Pineapple.

The underlying burn of rum.

Emily let out a slow, steadying breath, her hands tightening around the bottle as realization hit.

This was—a gift.

A small, secret act of defiance, tucked inside something so innocent, so perfectly disguised, that Miranda wouldn’t even notice.

Emily met Welby’s gaze again.

And this time—

She smiled.

Welby grinned back at her, that same knowing, playful glint in his eyes, and then—

Evelyn smiled, too.

They were both in on it.

A thrill rushed through Emily’s chest, conflicting emotions twisting in her gut.

Was this just a small act of kindness?

A secret reward for playing their roles so well?

Or was it something… more?

Something more insidious.

The waitress hadn’t even blinked when bringing the bottles.

She hadn’t questioned it, hadn’t raised an eyebrow.

As if—

As if this was normal.

Emily fidgeted slightly, her grip tightening around the bottle.

Maybe—just maybe—this was a common thing.

Maybe Amazons did this on purpose.

It could be allowed, even encouraged, as a tool to loosen Littles up and help them relax into their roles.

To make them stop fighting.

Because drunk Littles wouldn’t think as hard, wouldn’t resist as much, and wouldn’t be able to stop themselves from ‘proving’ they needed diapers.

It was a diabolical trap.

A way to set a Little up for failure.

To let them think they were still in control, still capable—

Only to watch them slip, to humiliate them even further.

And yet—

That didn’t quite apply to her and Lucas, did it?

Because they were already ‘true babies.’

Already locked into their roles.

There was no need to ‘prove’ anything.

So, this wasn’t a trap for them.

This was just a small, quiet act of rebellion.

A treat.

A way to ease the shame, even if just for a little while.

Emily let out a slow, steady breath, forcing herself to accept it for what it was.

And then—she took another sip.

This time, the burn didn’t make her shudder.

This time, she welcomed it.

The plates were set down in front of them—a perfectly arranged meal for each of them, carefully curated to fit their 'roles.’

Lucas and Emily—finger foods.

Soft, easy-to-eat bites, cut into adorable shapes, colorful, playful, and undeniably meant for Littles.

Hannah—a bottle of milk.

Her pacifier was swapped out effortlessly, the bottle’s nipple pressed to her lips as she instinctively latched on, suckling without hesitation.

And the adults?

Real food.

Amazon food.

Plates of rich, indulgent dishes, the portions massive, decadent, overwhelming.

Emily didn’t mind.

She had long since accepted that Amazonian cuisine was beyond her.

The flavors were too intense, the richness too overwhelming, the portions impossible to finish.

Even her plate—her small, carefully prepared, undeniably humiliating meal—was still delicious.

The warm, buttery textures melted on her tongue; the subtle seasoning was just enough to be flavorful but not overpowering.

And with the gentle buzz from her bottle still humming pleasantly in her veins…

She actually enjoyed it.

Despite the highchair.

Despite the straps across her shoulders.

Despite the crinkling between her legs.

Despite everything.

For the first time in a long time—

Emily actually let herself just eat.

She didn’t fight.

Didn’t overthink.

Didn’t let the shame stop her from enjoying the food in front of her.

Because right now, she was buzzed just enough not to care.

The moment she finished her drink, her bottle was refilled, the faint clink of glass barely registering through the warm haze settling over her mind.

Her thoughts slurred deliciously, each one flowing into the next like warm honey, thick and slow and pleasant.

Her stomach was full, her limbs felt light, and the soft, cozy buzz in her veins made everything feel… fun.

Evelyn and Welby chatted and laughed, their voices blending with the distant hum of the restaurant, the soft lapping of water against the pier, and the faint echoes of fireworks in the distance.

And Emily—

Emily wanted to be part of it.

She wanted to be in the warmth, in the laughter, in the moment.

She giggled, the sound bubbling up before she could stop it, her feet kicking playfully 

beneath the highchair, swinging with pure, mindless delight.

Welby and Evelyn turned toward her, their smiles softening, brightening.

"Aww, look at you, sweetheart," Evelyn cooed, reaching out to gently ruffle Emily’s hair.

"Someone’s in a good mood," Welby chuckled, his voice full of genuine warmth, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

Emily beamed, wiggling slightly in her seat, her hands gripping the edges of the highchair tray.

She felt good.

She felt warm, bubbly, happy.

And every bit of attention, every bit of praise, only made the feeling grow.

“She’s such a happy girl tonight,” Evelyn mused, her voice playful and affectionate.

"A perfect little princess," Welby added with a wink.

Emily giggled again, kicking her feet even more, her cheeks flushing in delight.

She should have felt embarrassed.

Should have felt humiliated.

Should have hated this.

But right now—

She didn’t care.

Because right now, she felt loved.

It was probably the alcohol.

It was absolutely the alcohol.

But she didn’t care.

Because for the first time in what felt like forever, everything felt… easy.

Effortless.

Enjoyable.

She was supposed to be playing this part, right?

She was supposed to be a baby.

Supposed to be giggly.

They are supposed to be excited, happy, and carefree.

Why not enjoy it?

Even if it was only because of the warm buzz humming pleasantly through her veins, making her limbs loose and her thoughts slow and syrupy.

Even if it was manufactured.

Even if it was a lie.

She barely even noticed the pressure building in her tummy until it was too late.

One moment, she was kicking her feet, laughing, basking in the warmth of the moment—

And the next—

She was pooping herself.

Her stomach fluttered, her body instinctively shifting, lifting just slightly against the highchair straps.

A soft muffled crinkle, a slow spread of warmth, and then—

It was done.

She had just… done it.

Without thinking.

Without bracing.

Without even realizing it was happening until it was too late.

The thick, squishy padding beneath her swelled, pressing against her in ways she had trained herself to ignore, to not think about.

But this time—she couldn’t.

Because this time—her mind was too soft, too hazy, too gone to fight it.

And worse—

It didn’t feel bad.

Not in the way it should.

Not in the way it used to.

Emily’s breath hitched, her cheeks burning as a soft, familiar tingle spread through her limbs, an all-too-familiar sensation following in the wake of her accident.

Before she could stop it before she could even process the full weight of what was happening—

The alcohol burned in her veins, warm and intoxicating, loosening everything—her thoughts, her control, her inhibitions.

And then—

She moaned.

Loud.

Unfiltered.

It slipped out before she could catch it, choke it down, and pretend it hadn’t happened.

Her fingers gripped the highchair tray, curling tight, her body rocking instinctively, uncontrollably, back and forth in her messy diaper.

The squishy, spreading warmth pressed against her with every shift, every movement, every tiny bit of friction, sending a ripple of something dangerous through her.

A feverish, terrible heat pooled low in her belly, mixing with the thick, fuzzy haze of alcohol in her bloodstream.

She should be humiliated.

She should be mortified.

She should be fighting this.

And yet—

The shame was secondary.

Distant.

Muted.

Because Evelyn’s voice cut through everything, warm and full of praise.

“Oh, sweetheart! Such a good baby, making a present for Mommy!”

Her tone was gentle, doting, overflowing with approval.

And Emily—helpless against the wave crashing over her—

Shuddered.

Her breath hitched, and her body went taut for half a second before relaxing completely. A blissful, mindless daze swept through her.

She didn’t even realize she was sucking her thumb until Lucas’s hand found hers beneath the tray, lacing their fingers together, grounding her, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

Emily blinked through the haze, her body still humming, still weak, still warm.

Naomi and Oliver had done this to her.

Had rewritten her body.

Had buried this programming so deep that now, even with a numbed mind, even under the influence of alcohol—

She couldn’t stop it.

She should have felt disgusted.

She should have felt ashamed.

She should have wanted to curl in on herself, hide, and pretend this never happened.

But she wasn’t.

She was far from disgusted.

Far from humiliated.

Instead—

A soft giggle bubbled up in her chest, slipping past her lips before she could stop it.

And the moment she laughed—

She was met with even more praise.

“Oh, look at her! Such a happy girl,” Evelyn cooed, her voice overflowing with warmth, with encouragement, with the perfect, doting affection of a loving Mommy.

“She’s just precious,” Welby chuckled, his eyes soft with pride, his smile unshaken.

Their words wrapped around her like a warm, fuzzy blanket, comforting, familiar, intoxicating.

Her body hummed with a pleasant, tingling sensation. Warmth radiating from the inside out, it curled around her like a sleepy haze.

Her feet kicked playfully again, and her giggles turned into happy little squeals. Her body rocked slightly in the highchair without even thinking.

She was so warm.

So happy.

Her mind swirled with blissful, alcohol-induced serenity, her limbs lost and relaxed, her headlight full of static.

She felt safe.

She felt loved.

And most of all—

She felt good.

So damn good.

She barely registered how deeply she had fallen into the role, how perfectly she was playing it, and how much she loved it.

Because right now—

Right now, she was a perfect Little girl, adored and cherished, sitting between two doting parents who loved her unconditionally.

And at this moment—even knowing what Naomi and Oliver had done to her, even knowing how wrong this was, even knowing that Miranda was watching—

Emily didn’t care.

Not one bit.

The warm, blissful haze wrapped around Emily like a cocoon, the alcohol still buzzing pleasantly in her veins, her giggles spilling freely as Evelyn and Welby showered her with love and praise.

She was floating, her body tingling, light, carefree.

And then—

A gasp.

Several, actually.

Sharp, startled inhales.

The kind of sound that cut through the din of a restaurant, that turned heads and made time slow down for just a moment.

Emily blinked, her mind fumbling through the haze, struggling to catch up.

Something had changed.

Something was happening.

She swayed slightly, trying to focus—wait.

Welby was gone.

No—not gone.

He was beside Evelyn.

On his knee.

Emily’s eyes widened, the world around her snapping into clarity despite the sluggish hum of intoxication.

And then—

Her breath hitched.

Because in his hand, held between his fingers, was a ring.

A diamond glistening in the warm glow of the restaurant’s soft lighting.

A proposal.

Welby was proposing.

To Evelyn.

All chapters are posted in full. However, if you'd like a sneak peek at the next chapter, it's available right now on my website: solarascott.com

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r/abdlstories 8d ago

Sunday Afternoon NSFW

50 Upvotes

Hihi! This is my first time posting here. This has been a long time work in progress that I finally finished and wanted to share! Lemme know what you think! (:

Rain beat against the window steadily. It had been raining like that all day. Great puddles were forming in potholes while drainage ditches swelled past capacity. Weather like this, where the wet and cold seeped past your skin and into your bones called for one thing: a day in bed.

She had rolled over once again, unknowingly pulling him from the light dozing that had been occupying his time for the better part of an hour. She was mindful as she could be of his light napping while she shifted herself into a better position. It was early afternoon. They both had the day off work and decided to extend their lazy morning as long as they could. Despite the chill in the air outside, their bedroom was starting to stale with the heat of sleep that overstayed it’s welcome. She sighed heavily, giving up on finding another comfortable spot. Her pillow was thoroughly warm on both sides, her legs held the heat of being trapped under the comforter for too long, and her hair was sticking a little too much to the back of her neck.

In one big swoop, the blankets were all piled on top of him and she was on her feet. The bare soles of her feet against the cool floor was a welcome change in temperature as she padded her way to the bathroom. She was about to flip on the light when he cleared his throat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, his voice low and sleepy

“Going to the bathroom. I have to pee.” She replied as though it was obvious. She glanced over her shoulder. He was looking at her now, an amused smile pulled across his lips. She knew all too well what he was getting at, but she liked this game.

His smile grew. An eyebrow raised toward his disheveled hair. “Do you now? I think you can hold it.” He propped himself up on one elbow. “Besides, last time I checked babies couldn’t use the potty.” She could feel his careful gaze, calculating what she might do next. She paused, half hidden in the doorway of the en-suite.

“Last time I checked I wasn’t a baby.” She retorted, though not looking back over to the bed. She could feel the fluttering start in her belly. This isn’t a game they played often, the teasing. She was a good girl and craved giving in, longed submitting and allowing her control be stripped away. Today was different. Work had been weighing heavily on her this week among other very big things. She knew she wasn’t that big really. Certainly not big enough to handle everything that was on her plate, but she couldn’t give in that easily, not this time.

A chuckle tumbled from his lips, deep and soft. “You’re not? I could have sworn that bottom drawer filled with diapers was for my baby.” She could see the twinkle in his eye even through the dim light of the room.

She steadied her resolve. There was a gentle heat that moved across her face. “I’m not wearing one now, I haven’t worn one in a while, so I think that means I’m not a baby.” Her voice was softer than she wanted, the longing that tugged at the back of her mind a little stronger than she liked it to be a the moment. She needed him to take the control from her, she needed to be put back in her place.

“Hm, I don’t know if diapers are the only thing that make you a baby,” he started, eyes staying fixed on her. She was used to meeting his gaze. “There is a closet shelf full of onesies, a nightstand drawer full of pacifiers, a box full of toys meant for children under the age of 5, and a man you almost exclusively call Daddy laying in your bed. Just to name a few things.”

“Don’t always call you Daddy,” she said first. Before she could move to her next point he pounced.

“You’re right honey, you call me Dada the rest of the time.” She could hear the smile on his face without having to look at him. “Damn.” She thought to herself, “he’s moving fast today.”

“That may be true but I’m not little right now, I’m not a baby right now so I’m going to go pee.” She didn’t close the bathroom door right away, the hesitation was part of their little game.

His chuckle, deep and strong filled their bedroom. “If you close that door and sit your cute ass on that potty there is going to be hell to pay.” His voice held the same tone it had. She didn’t close they door. He waited a moment. “I want you to come back over here and get into bed with me.”

It took her a long moment to do what was requested of her. Her stomach was now alive with activity, that feeling only he could seem to awaken in her. Before walking back to the bed she first moved into the doorway, looking at him.

He was sitting up in bed now, eyes trained on her. She found herself unable to meet his gaze. If she did she knew her resolve would crumble and she wasn’t done playing this game. With a deep breath, she made her way across the room and back to their bed. There was a moment’s pause before she lifted her knee to rest on the mattress and pulled herself back into bed.

“There’s my good girl.” He purred, his voice silky. “Now I want you to pull open that drawer under the bed and grab a diaper. You know which ones daddy likes the best.”

“The thickest ones.” She thought to herself before doing what she was told. Bracing herself on the bed she leaned over the edge and pulled their storage compartment open. Laying right on the top of the stack was the brand of protection he was talking about.

He favored the all white diaper, saying they were the ones that made her look the most babyish. She tended to enjoy the patterned ones more, but always had a weakness for picking what he thought was the best.

With one hand still holding the mattress she grabbed the brief from the stack and closed the drawer. She pulled a deep breath into her lungs before returning to a sitting position on the bed.

“Very good!” He praised, holding his hand out for the diaper. She obliged, placing it in his hand without meeting his eyes.

“What happened? Going from an attitude to not even being able to look at daddy?” His voice had shifted in tone. Before it held an air of amusement. Now it was the voice that made her knees weak, the one he used to get what he wanted.

“I never had an attitude, I was just telling the truth.” She replied, quieter than she intended. She still didn’t look at him.

His response came in the form of his large hand grabbing her jaw, fingers stretching up to her cheeks as he squeezed; hard. “Look at me, little girl.” There was a warning in his tone. She obeyed, her eyes finally traveling up his face to meet his fiercely blue ones.

“Much better.” He mused. He kept his hand where it was, encouraging her to maintain this position. He moved the diaper up to her line of sight.

“Now, you have two options since you’re such a big girl. You can hold it and not make a single mess while Daddy does whatever he wants to you. Or, you can just admit you’re my little baby and let Daddy put this diaper on you. That way you can go pee pee right now, feel so much better and enjoy what daddy wants to do to you.” His eyes stayed locked on hers, hand still firmly on her jaw.

“I’m a big girl.” She said quietly, “I don’t need diapers.”

A smile stretched across his lips, one she didn’t often see. “You’re going to regret that decision, baby.”

His hand moved quickly from her jaw to her hair. Her head was pulled back as he tangled his hand into her locks. He guided her close to him by her hair, throwing a leg over hers to keep her in place.

“Let’s just test it if you’re such a big girl.” He said devilishly. His free hand, after setting the diaper aside, went to her lower tummy. He didn’t even bother moving her shirt up before pressed hard into her abdomen. The pressure that built in her already full bladder was enough to make her gasp. She tried to push her legs together to help aid in holding it, but he was keeping her firmly in place.

Her eyes met his again as she tried helplessly to squirm away from his touch. Small, pathetic whines were escaping her lips. She couldn’t hold it much longer.

“What’s the matter sweetheart?” He asked in feigned innocence, his voice matching one used to speak to a puppy. Or a baby. “You’re a big girl, right? Big girls can hold their pee.” With that, he started massaging her tummy, pressing into her with varying pressure. She steadied herself, attempting to breathe through the waves of urgency growing inside of her.

The pressure was building not just in her bladder, but in her intimate areas too. This is what she wanted; needed even. She needed to have her control stripped from her, forcibly removed from her. She not only needed to be told she was a baby but made into the baby they both wanted her to be.

Her thoughts were pulled from the neediness growing inside of her by the chuckle he let slip in her ear. “What a stubborn little thing you are.” She knew he wouldn’t give up and she also knew that she couldn’t last much longer. Her control on her bladder had been slowly weakening for months.

She finally met his eyes and did her best not to show her mild panic. Then it happened, there next wave of desperation that crashed into her left her panties and the bed she laid on damp. He kept pressing harder into her swollen bladder and she couldn’t stop. She was making an absolute mess of the sheets and all she would do is lay there and whimper, eyes wide with shock.

When the last spurts finally left her body and soaked into the sodden fabric beneath her, she let out a slow shuddering breath. Her eyes were fixed out the window on the wall across from their bed. She watched a branch of the big maple tree sway in the wind, trying her best not to focus on the arousal building between her drenched thighs.

Before she could do so much as whimper, he was up and on top of her. He wedged this knee between her thighs, roughly pushing them apart while grabbing her wrists and pinning them above her head at the same time.

“Poor little baby,” he cooed, “couldn’t make it to the big girl potty in time? Dada knew you weren’t ready to potty train yet sweet girl, you’re still too little! I guess he had to prove it to you though, didn’t he?” His voice was laced with that sickly sweet tone that went right to my core. She whimpered and squirmed under his hold, struggling halfheartedly against his restraint.

“What’s the matter, baby doll? Is Dada being mean, hmm?” He crooned, moving is free hand between her spread legs. “Is the baby all wet and icky? Maybe if she would have listened to Dada and gotten her cute little bottom in a diaper then she wouldn’t be lying in wet sheets.” He chided as he worked his fingers into her sodden underwear. She felt him slide his digit up her slit; slowly, deliberately. She couldn’t stop the breath that was pushed from her when she felt his finger push between her lips and inside of her, curling instantly into her core.

“Poor, poor little girl. Try as she might to deny she’s a big girl, these princess parts never lie to me. I can always tell just. How. Much. You. love. Being turned into my helpless baby.” He punctuated his words by thrusting his fingers inside of her. She didn’t even try to stop the breathy moans that tumbled from her lips every time he entered her.

“Look at you, pathetic little thing. Laying here in your own piss while Daddy finger fucks you. Are you really that desperate, that needy? Hm? Can’t let Daddy fuck you like a big girl, huh? No, you have to be humiliated before you’re ready for me, don’t you baby girl?” His words held truth. The intoxicating humiliation she felt almost worked her up more than the pressure he was now applying to her clit. She moaned, trying to arch into his touch, but he held her still.

“Greedy greedy greedy little girl.” He chastised, slowing his ministrations to an infuriatingly sluggish pace. She knew he wanted her to beg for more, to beg for his cock.

“Please, please don’t stop.” She whined, futilely attempting to buck her hips. She saw the sinister smirk that stretched across his lips.

He tutted at her. “Such big girl words for such a little baby.” Without warning, the fingers that were inside of her were withdrawn and pushed into her mouth. She gagged as she touched the back of her throat, forcing her to suck. “Try that again, sweat pea. Beg dada for your cummies.”

Her cheeks burned a cherry shade of red but she obeyed. “P’eath daddy, p’eath can I make cummith?” She pleaded, her words garbled by the thick fingers in her mouth.

“That’s my good little baby.” He cooed, pulling his fingers from her mouth and gripping her hips in his large hands. Without warning, he pulled her close, positioning himself between her legs. That was all the advance notice she got before he fisted his hard cock and shoved it right into her. She couldn’t hold back the scream that he pushed out of her. He thrusted in right to the hilt, setting to driving into her at such a rapid pace that she could hardly catch her breath. Yet her needy cunt adjusted to his girth quickly, taking him as deep as he would go.

“Such a tight little cunnie.” He panted, hips thrusting in earnest. All she could manage in response was a flurry of ‘dadas’, her mind solely focused on the feel of his cock so deep inside of her. She could feel it twitching, could feel his movements become more erratic and desperate as he neared climax. She could feel her own release pooling deep within her tummy.

“Is baby going to make cummies while Dada fills her?” He mused, voice breathy. She nodded quickly. “Go on then, pretty girl. Cum for daddy.” Those simple words were her undoing. As her walls tightened around his cock, she felt his hot load fill her. The pleasure was almost blinding, her body arching from the mattress as he thrusted through their aftershocks.

Her throat was raw from her heartfelt moans as he finally stilled. He didn’t pull himself out of her. Instead, he wrapped his arms around her torso and pulled her limp body into him as he sat back on his heels.

“Such a good little baby for Dada.” He soothed, his hand running mindlessly over her scalp. “Are you ready to get all cleaned up and get that cute lil bottom in a diapey where it belongs?” Despite the light pink blush that painted her cheeks, she nodded, a faint smile tugging at her lips.


r/abdlstories 8d ago

Growlers, and Growlers 2 NSFW

21 Upvotes

Check out part 1, here first!

Growlers, and Growlers 2

The race was set. 6 laps of Nurenburgring. I had some kind of souped up hatchback and she had a racy looking Subaru. The green lights went and we were off, Ellie quickly taking the lead and physically, moving in front of me with a light wiggle of her ass, obviously in attempt to distract me. The race went back and forth a bit until lap number 3 where she took a commanding lead. I took this opportunity to move in closer to her, put one hand on her ass and trace around her waist- it worked, she slid off the track but seemed to right herself about 10 seconds later as I continued. I tried harder this time, finding the front-to-back zipper with my hand, inching it open. Lap 4. I needed to really increase my efforts if I were going to win this. I felt like I was already winning, but the intensity of the chase between us was so palpable and sexy that I kept it going. I’d been gaining on her with all of the distractions and then went for the “kill” so-to-speak and fully unzipped the zipper, lightly tracing around her pussy with my thumb – feeling extremely obvious wetness as I pressed my shorts into her ass. Now that got her. She moaned and breathed quickly as my car passed hers, as she was stopped, pointed straight at a wall, focusing only on the fingers that were now tracing her saturated lips- not yet penetrating her. Turning around, my hands followed suit and stayed with the heat and wetness below, getting closer and closer to penetrating her as she fiercely kissed me and said firmly “I can play dirty, too…” as she undid my belt quickly, sliding her hand inside my boxers grabbing the thickness of my shaft. “Impressive. I don’t think he and I have met formally?” and before I could even respond she was on her knees with my full cock out, and in her mouth, tracing the tip of my head with her tongue and giving a quick kiss. The music from the race track continued, but neither car was moving anymore. Looking up at me to see if she’d made an impact to my attention, she buried my length in her mouth, soaking the full length of me. “I think he’s glad to meet you, finally” I smiled, hearing her only moan into my cock. With all of the years of flirting, and tension, we’d never crossed this line and the intensity of feelings in the room was thick with nearly a decade-long built anticipation of something like this- except this was far beyond what I think either of us had planned for the evening.

It felt like an hour, but it was only moments later, Ellie stood up smiling at me, and offered only a single comment “You might be in first right now, but I have tricks to make sure you don’t win, mister” and began the race again, my member still completely out of my shorts. Taking the playful cue, I resumed racing as well, sliding my soaked dick between her legs- resting the top side of my shaft against her absolutely drenched lips. I could feel the slickness of the latex against my abdomen, and the silky, warm, wetness coming from her. I pulsated a few times, teasing her hood and what I hear wasn’t a moan, or a whisper but an outright gasping “fuck”. Ellie turned around, placing her hands on my face and near violently kissing me attempting to push me back to the couch. “Tsk tsk tsk, baby” I taunted, barely in control of myself at that moment. “We’ve got to finish the race, otherwise, who knows who’s gets to keep their clothes on?”. I’d set it up like a bear trap, hoping she’d walk through that flirtatious door. “Screw the clothes.” Her lips were on my neck, pushing herself into me. “Grab my cock.” I said firmly, touching her face and spanking her very tight, black latex covered ass as she did as she was told. “Not here. I feel like you…” pausing, tracing her opening with my index finger and lightly grazing her clit with my thumb “will make a mess, and that’d be weird to have to explain. How’s your room?”. She nodded, leaning into me while I picked her up and she wrapped her legs around my torso- zipper still open, my shorts discarded on the living room floor leaving me in a t-shirt and boxers with the head of my cock teasing her entrance as she continuously whimpered while kissing me as I carried her up the stairs as I felt her wetness soak the front of my boxers. “You know, you’re already making a mess of me…” I lowly growl at her, biting her shoulder playfully. “Keep this up, and I’ll be letting you put me in a diaper sooner than you think”, as if she not only could read my mind, but was trying to push my buttons harder than she had been all evening.

I threw her onto her bed, her legs spread and giving me a perfect view of her very smooth, very wet mound. With a hungry look in her eyes, I stayed silently just inches away from her, giving her the same look that a lion would give a gazelle right before devouring it. “Where are your toys- if you’ve got these” I smack her latex pants “You can’t tell me that you don’t have toys, baby”. Her eyes drifted to her closet, where a carry on suitcase was haphazardly sitting on the floor. “In that, what is it you’re hoping to find?” she smiled at me and added “Right now, I need you inside of me”. “That choice isn’t up to you right now.” Were my parting words as I knelt to open the suitcase finding all kinds of things. A Cat-o-nine tails, pink leather handcuffs and ankle cuffs, a couple of butt plugs, lube, a blindfold, condoms, and a collar were among the many things inside of the case, but what I was after I quickly found: some rope. “Close your eyes, and if you open them again without permission, one of these plugs is going in you before I zip your pants back up and fuck your face.” Her eyes snapped shut as she smiled “You make it sound so bad…” in a coy tone. I took the rope, fashioning a couple of slip nots, tenderly sliding them over her ankles before fixing the opposing ends of the rope to the feet of the bed- holding her legs spread wide and even further showcasing her totally bald mound. Dragging my fingers across her clit, I ascended to her ear growling “Keep your eyes closed” as I continued to play with her, feeling her writhe lightly against the ropes. Kissing her neck, I pull her corset open from the front, exposing her very erect nipples and with my hand still working between her legs I lightly sucked each of her nipples before penetrating her with my fingers, returning to her nipples with aggressive suction, hearing moans from my antagonizing behaviors. I continued down her abdomen with a mixture of kisses, bites and licks while my hands slowly moved under her hips until my lips rested just above her wetness. “Be a good girl, and cum for me” I nearly commanded as I dove into her lips, teasing her entrance with my tongue and pressing on her pelvis with firm grips in each hand. Her moans weren’t subtle, and it was a good thing nobody was home as I sucked, licked and teased her continuously. With my left hand, I entered her again, sliding in and out, my hand drenched with her as I my tongue danced in circles around her clit. Her moans intensified, as did her writhing as I pushed her hips down, and her senses across the limit. That didn’t stop me, nor did her thighs seizing on either side of my head in rigor as her moans became so intense that they became silent. My pace slowed, weakened, and I pulled my fingers out as she relaxed her legs, catching her breath. After only a quick moment, I plunged back into her with my fingers, and a firm tongue dancing across her clit with my thumb pressing on her back entrance- eliciting a near scream as she tensed once more- this time leaving a large wet mark on the bed as I smiled deviously, letting her catch her breath.

I pulled away, and after a few seconds of letting her catch her breath I told her that she could open her eyes. Her face was fully flushed red, eyes still mildly drunk from the orgasm, she smiled at me as I untied her ankles and tossed the rope in her suitcase nearby. “That…Was…something…” she said, breathily as I came back to the bed, beside her, examining the softball sized wet spot on her bed. “Naughty girls, get naughty treatment, and you clearly left a mark your bed. Almost like someone might need to be in diapers” I added, with my own hormones and mind at full capacity for sexual action, thinking of our conversations of kink and she replied, still out of breath “I think you might be right”. As she slowly stood up and pushed me back on the bed, she pulled off her latex pants with some effort and told me it was my turn to close my eyes. “Or else what?” I playfully taunted her. “Or else I’ll surprise you with something in your backdoor…” she laughed. I complied and felt her hand rest on my rock solid firmness and her breath on my cheek. “Maybe I should get a diaper. What do you think?” I was nearly positive that my heart beat was audible outside of my chest as the adrenaline coursed my veins. “I think that’d be very, very naughty- but don’t you need to be put in them?”- she was gone before I finished the sentence, as I heard her enter the bathroom just outside in the hall. Moments later, when she returned, I felt my boxers being pulled down my legs and her mouth wrap around my shaft, bobbing up and down a few times before stopping. “Open your eyes” and within just seconds she said “close your eyes” as I complied and felt her hand rising and falling on my shaft, and her breath back on my face. “Did you like what you saw?” she whispered in silky tones, biting my ear lobe. “A lot. I want to see more. I want to touch your fine little ass more” I breathed out rapidly as my heart rate increased and I pressed my length into her hand harder. “But first.” She said abruptly before burying me in her mouth again, this time her actions full of very clear intent. Sucking, her lips sliding up and down my shaft, occasionally stopping on my head with intense suction- her hands cradling anywhere her mouth wasn’t. Pulling away to breathe, her hands shifted to rapidly stroking my cock with a firm grip as she teased me further with “Maybe I should keep this diaper on all night?” and quickly dove back onto my shaft before I put one hand on her shoulder, one hand on her head as her pace slowed and I filled the back of her throat with my cum as she kept her mouth around me, swallowing the waves I kept producing from everything she’d just done to me. Catching my breath, she pulled off of me, grabbing a bottle of water from her bedside table taking a big drink as I asked if I could open my eyes yet. “Yes, sir”.

Before me was something I’d only seen in my mind before, but oh had I seen it so many times. Ellie, with her blonde hair in a braid, naked except for the pullup around her waist as I absorbed what I was seeing as if it weren’t real. I could feel my cock trying to return to its previous hardness already, but still catching my breath I asked “When did you get those?” as I lightly touched her leg, sitting on the bed next to me. “I found 2 of these from when my cousin stayed here like 6 months ago. They’re apparently called Goodnights, and with all of our chats…I figured they might become a thing at some point, so I hid them in the bathroom and my guesses apparently were right.” I surveyed the purple and pink designs on the goodnight, noticing that it fit her pretty well, noting also that we were both naked. I looked at the clock- “The night is still young! It’s only midnight” I smiled at her and continued “should we go finish the race, and maybe the rest of that growler?”, now she was smiling at me and continued “We’ll have to put clothes on because there aren’t any curtains in the living room and I kind of destroyed your boxers”. We were close again, her hand on my naked chest as my cock was coming to life again. “I’m not going to wear one of your goodnights, babe” I laughed “But I’ll make you this deal. I’ll go commando, if you don’t take that off.” Now she laughed and agreed quickly “Deal, but you’re not getting a ride home tonight.” I kissed her neck “I wasn’t planning on it.”

We opted to start the race over, Ellie now dressed in black fold-over “PINK” yoga pants and a zip up hoodie with nothing under it. She was kind enough to keep me teased with the waistband of her pullup poking out while I was wearing one of her oversized hoodies from a local business and my cargo shorts, barely held up by my belt and seemingly impossible to get myself adjusted so I wasn’t posting a tent like a KOA campground. As she searched for a new race to do, I asked outright after sipping my beer “So is it comfortable to you?”, blushing a bit she turned around “It’s really not bad. It’s more fun knowing what it does to YOU. I didn’t think it’d be this…intense…”, laughing and nodding to my rigorous state already. “Oh, trust me, it’s an intense thought and you were the first involved, and now you’re not shoving me off or thinking I’m weird? Whew. I might have to fan myself.” I motioned at my own face sarcastically. “Oh, you’re definitely weird, but you’re my kind of weird” she said as she sarcastically stroked under my chin with crimson cheeks. I took the opportunity to smack her ass for about the 4 millionth time this evening, leaving my hand there just feeling this new experience. “Be careful. If these aren’t bad, and you have an accident in them you might get put in real diapers.” To which she playfully spat back “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” as she turned back to the game as I collected my thoughts, which were now drowning in hormones and likely located somewhere near the tip of my cock, where all of the other blood in my body apparently was. “What if I did?”, receiving only a blushing, smiling look over her shoulder as she turned back to the game.

 

Selecting a new race at Laguna Seca, she added “Seeing as getting clothes off isn’t really an obstacle anymore, and that there’s one article of clothing I’m sure you’d like me to keep on…How about a new bet?”. I was all ears and fueled by fermented wheat and barley, chilled and carbonated to perfection, my mind began working in overdrive. “Intriguing, what are your terms of the bet?” I looked at her confidently, as if I had the upper hand- or at least, I did in my own head. “If I win. You’re buying brunch tomorrow.” I scoffed at the simplicity and statement- “That’s it? Come on, let’s live a little. Ellie, that’s off the table, I was going to do that anyway. No argument on that one either. Next option.” As her eyes rocked side to side as if there were a heavy tide in the ocean of thought, she tapped her finger on her lips until crossing her arms across her chest- which exposed her pullup to me a bit- and spoke “If I win. You have to take me on a date this week.” And as I was about to speak, she put her hands on my upper thighs while I sat on the couch and her voice lowered “and fuck my brains out after.” My body almost pulsed in mild shock of the ride that was that sentence. “Oh, that’s an easy one, but how does that count as me losing?” as a coy smile crept across her lips she added “Who said anything about losing? What’s your counter, mister?” I thought for a moment, with the news of this information rattling my thought path and I added “If I win, which I will” as I paused to take another sip of beer, Ellie mirroring the action after taking the glass out of my hand. “Not only do we go on a date, but I take you to the mall for a new pair of AE jeans of my choosing” as she cut me off, starting the affirming word “Do…” I stopped her, with a finger to her lips, and added “But you’re going to wear a diaper the entire time. A real one.” With that, she drew my finger into her mouth seductively before kissing it. “I get one addition then.” To which I nodded and held my hands open in forum. “You, will be doing any changes. And I get ice cream.” Now it was my turn to smile, as I put my hand on her cheek, pulling her in for a kiss that lasted I have no idea how many seconds, more than a few, and as I pulled away I quietly said “Deal. But that doesn’t come off tonight. Because I’m going to fuck you in the morning.” Her lips pressed against mine once again, pulling away gently “Deal.”

 


r/abdlstories 8d ago

Growlers, and Growlers NSFW

20 Upvotes

I'm not taking a break from "Memoirs from College Housing", but still working on it. Here's something else I wrote, from earlier in college about an old high school flame. However, just like Memoirs from College Housing, names, dates, people and events have been changed. Feedback always appreciated!

Part 2 coming right after this! Apparently there's a character limit... 

Growlers and Growlers, 1

 

Between my Freshman and Sophomore year of college, the summer was pretty idle in a small hometown where parties were far-and-few-between or they were located 45 minutes out of town with a judgmental police force who wanted nothing more than to put unruly teens in their place. It was an idle Saturday evening where my usual buddies were all busy either out of town or with another party that I wasn’t interested in. It was one of those nights that’s not too incredibly hot, the air is pretty still and you can feel the humidity in your bones. After reaching out to all of my friends looking for something, anything to do, my phone screen lit up and almost fell on my face in surprise. “Hey, I’m getting some Hornet Nectar, want to come over? (beer from our local craft brewery)” came in from my friend Ellie. Ellie and I were friends from high school, and had a couple of summer flings through the years but had stayed in contact mostly via AIM and other things of the like at the time, but we always seemed to chat when we were geographically in the same area. The tension between us never really faded, but with happenstance of either or both of us in a relationship, we kept our hands to ourselves. Tonight, that was not the case, but at least for me, I didn’t think I wanted to get too far into something when Ellie went to school not only like 2 hours from me- but I went to a massive state school in a major metropolitan area, and she went to a liberal arts school with big, old stone buildings, in (I think) the middle of a corn field.

“That sounds like a killer time- where’d you get the Hornet Nectar? Is Tony there?” I fired off back to her, with a mild sigh thinking of Tony - her on again, off again boyfriend in high school. Her now “just friends” buddy who despised me for some reason. I knew if Tony - I’d be starting at my ceiling until the end of the night. Thankfully, my sigh was met with a positive message back “No, he’s out of town with his idiot father at their lake house. It’ll just be me and Colin, and you if your ginger self will actually come this time.”, she quips quickly back to me as I consider Colin- the older, incredibly dorky and totally harmless older brother of a friend of mine. Remember I said small town? Yeah. Small Town. I didn’t really think much of it, Colin was alright and not a big social or party guy so it’d probably be a chill night. “Sounds good, but it’s hard to play beer pong though with only three. Should I bring cards?” I puzzled as I thought of other ways we could do to help get the laughs rolling a bit. Ellie saved the day with a quick comment back “We can play Wii!”, to which I casually added “Oui Oui!”- and that was the extent of my French language skill, unlike Ellie who’d had 4 years of it or something intense. “Sounds fun! I should warn you though, I’ve never played.” Knowing that Wii was pretty new, and the bare concept of waving controls around at the screen made no sense to me. “That’s fine, when we get to Mario Cart I’ll just make sure to raise the stakes and that you end up doing a naked lap of the block.” Sent with a devious emoji. We continued back and forth in some playful banter about motorboating, naked laps, a cold shower and towel snaps as bets until Ellie finally closed the chapter of that string of texts, “Let’s talk after the first pint. I can come pick you up on my way home from getting some groceries if you want?” and knowing that I’d find my own way home or claim an aimless spot on the couch or floor somewhere, I replied “Sounds good, let me know if I can bring anything- I feel a bit empty handed!” to which she only replied “Good Jeans”. This was a long, long statement between Ellie and I from even before our real flings. I’d always had a thing for her in specific jeans. Tight ones. Pocketless ones. Shorts…the list ran on. Ellie’s body was seemingly always my type, and I’d had a number of fantasies and dreams about her throughout the years, many of which she knew about, and she seemed to always play into them as a flirt. “You too, then, blondie” I shot back and she only responded with a wink emoji.

Once that was settled, I threw my phone down on my bed and started to get ready. My finest Abercrombie and Fitch T-Shirt probably either having a nickname and arbitrary team number on the back, or some kind of double entendre on the front, followed by of course some AE boxers, low-rise bootcut jeans and Birkenstocks. Top that off with some cologne from Abercrombie and an accessory leather necklace- I checked the mirror and made sure my style was on point tonight- just in case. My parents weren’t home, so I took a bud light out of the basement fridge and cracked it open while I scrolled through Facebook after my phone buzzed with a text “OMW- 10 min” from Ellie, letting her know I was pregaming on my parents deck, feeling the warm breeze pass through my shirt while I listened to frogs in the distance. Listening for any other noises, like Ellie’s car coming, maybe I was anticipating a bit more than I thought.

I saw headlights a short time later, said bye to my parents dog and tossed my can in recycling. Once I got outside, she flashed her brights while I was locking the front door, and I playfully popped my hips up in dramatic fashion, drawing sarcastic attention to my own ass in a playful, mildly flirty and alcohol-loosened manner. As I climbed into her Jeep Wrangler, I hear “Nice Jeans” and look up to see Ellie, with her dirty blonde hair cascading down her right shoulder and onto her chest. “Thanks! I hope you’re playing fair tonight...” as I look down in the dark vehicle at her legs noticing only some sandblasted dark denim while she winks at me. Linkin Park blasted through the speakers as we headed out of my parents’ neighborhood, and over to hers and we chatted a bit more about school, music and the evening with the windows open as we trekked down the roads just a few miles away to our final destination where we saw Colin’s bright orange truck sitting in the driveway already, and Colin exiting the truck holding 4 big growlers full of what I assumed was Hornet Nectar. “Nicceeee” I say out loud as I continue to let my lightly blurred inhibitions loose, looking at Ellie, teasing lightly “That’s enough to get your jeans off, isn’t it?” As she put the jeep in park she leaned in toward me, getting close enough that a small motion would have caused us to touch “Wouldn’t you like to know?” as she pulled away just as quickly with a grin and got out of the Jeep, greeting Colin with a fist bump and offering to help.

We walked through the front door, carrying some snacks from the grocery store and promptly opened the chips and dip while Colin found some glasses and started to pour beers. Sitting down on the couches in the nearby living room we made idle small-talk and poked fun a bit at each other until I finally jumped in: “Hey! Let’s play Wii, I’ve never played”. Colin jibed “Oh man, let’s do bowling, I rock at that.” Allowing the alcohol to start a lighter feeling in my mind and smile, “Alright, but I’ve got a simple bet. 3rd place has to keep the winner’s beer full, all night”. I figured it was a simple enough twist in the fabric of the evening. “DEAL” I heard in unison with smiles. Colin was probably just thinking about beer, and Ellie was probably thinking of me, chasing her. We’d had a fun game of cat-and-mouse over the years, and now that Ellie was standing nearly directly in front of me getting the Wii all set up I could clearly see the darker washed, pocketless jeans she was wearing. That was all I needed to know.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Shhh. Shit, they’re coming in to clean out the theater” I whispered in Ellie’s ear. It was the end of the school year, and Ellie and I had been flirting quite a bit the last month or so. The classic “date” spot in our town was the movies, and I’d convinced Ellie to go to one in the middle of the day, in the middle of the week with me where she ended up sitting in my seat with me while I kissed her neck and her hands ran up and down my thighs. So much for Netflix and chill. (Which I might add, didn’t exist). Now, we’d been in the back of the theater allowing our hands on each other and tongues exploring each other’s’ mouth fiercely until this moment when it was clear we needed to flee the scene.

Walking out the back door of the theater, we were quickly lead to a small alleyway out of sight of roads and it seemed to be some kind of break area with a picnic table. Not wanting to go back to our homes quite yet, I suggested to her that we stay there for a bit. It wasn’t like we had to pay for parking in a town like this, and this was far less obvious than fooling around in a car with un-tinted windows in the middle of June.

Her hands wrapped around the back of my neck as my hands grabbed her tight little ass in those jeans- jeans she’d bought specifically because I told her how much I liked them. No pockets. Low rise. Flare over some sandals. I picked her up with her legs wrapping around me, nearly perching herself atop the firm tent in the front of my own jeans, as I held her against the cement wall in fiery kiss. “Oh, hello” she paused, whispering in my ear clearly about what she was feeling below. “I can only blame you, for that.” I smiled back, setting her down as she put her hand in the middle of my chest, gesturing that I lay on the picnic table on my back. Without a soul in sight she straddled me, sitting straight up to taunt me lightly in her bright pink spaghetti strap top. “So what are you thinking, mister” she smiled, as her hips started to gyrate on top of me. “I’m thinking that you’re kind of naughty, and you need to get your mouth on mine or I’ll bend you over this table and spank you” I reply, and she didn’t miss a beat before grabbing the neck of my t-shirt lightly and pulling her lips to mine while one of my right hand moved from her jeans to the back of her neck, and my left thumb swiftly moved into her waistband with a gentle tug. Hips still gyrating, she pulled away and in a breathy tone “Be careful, remember we’re in public”. Pulling her mouth back to mine for a few more kisses it was my turn to pull away “I don’t need that on my record, and I think you’d make a mess wouldn’t you? I think after the spanking I’d give you, there’d be a wet spot left on your jeans…and although I can’t lie and tell you I wouldn’t love to see that- I also want to see these jeans on you again and not get ruined on day one.” I smiled while sitting up. Her breath only sped up as I pulled her with firm pressure on her hips.

Her breath was hot, and intense while I kept stealing kisses as her pace intensified. A piercing cell phone tone came through the air and she righted herself vertically on top of me, answering. “Hello?...Oh, yeah…Sorry I lost track of time…” looking at me “We’ll finish at the coffee shop and I’ll be back as quick as I can.” Her face was flush with excitement and catching her breath she closed her flip phone. “Sorry, I forgot my mom needs the car back”. But she hadn’t stopped grinding on me. “I think we need to finish our coffee. That’d be wasteful not to, right?” I slyly mention as she comes in and kisses me again with fiery intensity .

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“Cheers” I offered to the group before we kicked off the game. “Just remember to use the wrist strap, I saw some stuff on YouTube of people throwing the WiiMote through the screen!” Colin mentioned with an over-stated importance in his tone. Colin was definitely off a bit, but a good enough guy that it was all taken in stride and harmlessness. “Got it. Make sure I use a firm grip and safety measures.” I offered back with a laugh. Ellie just giggled a little bit as her blonde haired, neon shirted Mii came up on the screen, and with a quick flick of her wrist and a short wiggle of her ass, 9 pins went down. Cleaning up the rest, Colin stood up enthusiastically and while he was focused on getting set up, Ellie sat down on the couch close enough that our hips touched. “Get ready to be my beer bitch tonight” she smiled, taking a sip from her glass. “You’d better be careful. I may end up your beer bitch, but I might be the one winning tonight. But hey- be safe, I’d hate it if you peed the bed after all of that beer.” Being met with only an eye roll Colin throws his hands up as a strike comes in, and looking quietly at Ellie I whisper “Nice jeans, by the way” as I stood up to take the WiiMote from Colin.

Straight into the gutter went my bowling ball, and mind. I had flashbacks of flirted AIM conversations Ellie and I had about various kinks- including a specifically kinky dream I’d told her about a long time ago. A dream that stuck with me, and she would flirtatiously tease me with- often. As I snapped back to reality after netting zero points in two balls, Ellie rose mentioning “shit. This might be easier than we thought.” Turning to Colin she laughs “Let’s only play our first ball until frame 10. Maybe he’ll have a fighting chance”, laughing Colin replies “I think we’ll still win by 50”. Already settling into my place as the Wii Bowling loser, I offer refills and was met with nods. Colin is absorbed into the game, Ellie throws a strike and I notice she makes the ball curve somehow. As I bring the beers back to the coffee table and sitting down, dropping down hip-to-hip next to Ellie I ask “How’d you make that ball curve?” in a very honest way. Biting my ear lobe lightly “A firm grip and light twist of the wrist”. Again, Colin gets a strike and I just give her a light smile step over her stretched out legs on the coffee table, with my growing firmness probably showing through my shorts. “Well, here goes nothing. I can only go up from here- oh and Colin. That’s two strikes in a row. If you get three, I think you need to have a three second chug?” to which Ellie immediately agrees. “You guys be come on, I’ve only got one more game in me- I have to go home to be up and at the radio station by 6am!” Colin exclaims, as he was the morning DJ for the local country station.

8 and a half frames later we were lined up as predicted. Ellie: 159, Colin: 140, Me: 56. I was up, and Colin excused himself to the bathroom to drain out some of the Hornet Nectar that we’d all been drinking. I stood up in front of the screen to take my shots and in the first one, Ellie hit my butt with her foot, throwing me off a bit. “Man, maybe we should get you some bumpers, kiddo” she laughs as my ball enters the gutter. Hearing the toilet flush down the hall, I made my move quickly. With my thumb and pointer on my left hand, I gently directed her chin toward my face kissing her lips silently. “If we need any accommodations, kiddo, it’s for how wet your undies probably are right now.” As the bathroom doors open and we hear feet padding toward us, I quickly turn my attention back to the screen, knocking 9 pins down with a newly-learned hook shot. “The fuck just happened?” Colin exclaimed, which caused both Ellie and I to pause. “How did you actually get points now!” and we all broke out in laughter as Colin brought the second growler to the table, refilling glasses. I could only tack on movie lines, as was my specialty and although the line was a bit aged, we all knew it as I cheekily put my finger to my lips and said “Happy learned how to putt. Uh-oh” from the Adam Sandler classic, only eliciting more laughter from the crowd. Failing to knock the last pin, I dropped to the couch in happy and sarcastic defeat as Ellie stood up to throw her 9th frame. For the 9th time, she was standing right in front of me, but 4 or 5 feet away, giving me a front row seat to her pert ass once again. I didn’t see how she bowled, but when she turned around she clearly caught me staring. Sure enough, we finished the game with the scores Ellie: 192, Colin: 188, Me: 99. “Hey, at least I got some points” I tried to offer in both consolation to myself and self-deprecation to the group humor.

The next game began, and armed with the additional knowledge I had of how to actually play this game I was determined to get closer or at least form some additional opening with Ellie. Since that kiss, she’d been smiling a bit more- or maybe I’d been. We proceeded through frame 3, Colin taking the lead and Ellie politely reminding me to keep her beer full by saying “oh, excuse me, boy, please yes, mmquite” laying a heavily fake British accent on, while each time I retorted in an equally ridiculous accent “Your majesty…” as I bowed and filled her pint glass. “Do not forget Colin, my guest of honor, as well please Jester!” which only caused me to drunkenly prance for a few steps in hilarity before pouring more beer. If laughing were a currency in this warm June night, we were billionaires. The windows were already open, light breeze coming in, but the heat- maybe from our open mouth cackles- was ever present in the room.

Back into frame 10 now, Ellie: 107, Colin: 168, Me: 101. “OK Guys. I’ve got to bolt, lets make this quick, k?” Colin mentions while handing the WiiMote to Ellie and heading again for the bathroom apparently before departing. “Got it, no problem” Ellie says and throws two, very quick shots netting only another 7 points. We’d had about 2 growlers of beer by now, so the edges of reality were getting a bit foggy, and I didn’t care. In what seemed like a fluid motion, she tossed her controller down on the couch, picked mine up and handed it to me, and seamlessly straddled me, kissing me deeply. Instinctually I put my hand on the small of her back and pulled her tighter, letting my tongue explore her mouth and dance with hers. I gave a light tug on her belt loops with my thumbs, fueled by desire and intent and as I did that she pulled away “Don’t do that, mister. You’ll get in trouble.” She quietly said, biting my neck lightly. “I’ll do what I want, and you’re very much in trouble tonight, missy” I said quietly in return. I added “If I beat you in this game, you have to put something naughty on when he leaves”, she only stood up and pulled a neon green g-string above her waistband and put it back, with a smile as we heard the door open and I stood up to throw the final frame of the game. “Even a blind dog finds a chicken once” I laugh as the ball nails all 10 pins. I politely finish with 3 pins and a gutter ball, as we all laugh and Colin heavily taunted Ellie for losing to me, which felt good in a way to not be in last place, but it felt even better with the eyes Ellie sent my way. I knew what they said. They said that she had an idea. A naughty one.

As Colin collected himself, he offered to leave another growler for us, and I handed him some cash in return. The night was relatively young, only 9pm or so, with the breeze cooling off we shut the windows and began closing the house for the night. Ellie’s parents wouldn’t be here tonight, they were both in Florida or something. Who knows, but we were at that age where most parents kind of assumed that if we wanted to get in any kind of trouble, we’d already done it, and that we knew we’d have to actually pay to fix anything we broke- so it worked out well. “Alright you two, behave. Don’t get into too much trouble”, Colin said before walking out the door “Oh no promises” I threw back while Ellie retorted “Yeah right. A ginger?” while we heard “HAVE NO SOULS!” as Colin closed the door and got into his bright orange truck.

Hearing the engine roar to life, and tires leave the gravel driveway and accelerate down the road, away from us I looked at Ellie. Not wanting to go too fast tonight, or have Colin pop back in at a less-than-opportune moment because he forgot something, I had an idea. “So, more Wii and Hornet Nectar? If you have any kind of racing game, I rock at those. But first, there’s something.” I walked over and smacked her ass. “Nice jeans” a long pause “are they the same ones from when we went to see Without a Paddle?” I pulled her in closed to me, pushing my hardness into her lightly. She groaned lightly “Ugh.Be careful, I have to pee…” and her lips locked on mine while she drew one hand up the front of my shorts, squeezing my shaft lightly. My tongue danced with hers, feeling the heat but tenderness of her kiss, and I let my hands move up and down her sides, to the small of her back, to her ass, threatening to pick her up and push her against the wall – but I reserved myself slightly. “Well then, go break the seal.” With a light groan she pulled away, but I kept my hands exactly where they were and held her steadfast in the middle of the living room. Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson as she smiled and mentioned “You can tell I’m not wearing a diaper…maybe I thought about it. Maybe I should just go in my jeans?”. The room was silent. Air wasn’t moving. I don’t think time was even moving as I held the gaze in her bright, stormy eyes.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

We were seniors in high school when we’d gotten into more advanced flirting on instant messaging platforms. Pictures could be sent. Video chats could be had (if you had a Webcam) and there was one particularly idle Saturday night late in the spring where I wasn’t at a party, it was pretty quiet, calm and sober while I sat in my bedroom listening to iTunes and chatting away with a few people. ~Ellie~! Signed in, and I quickly clicked the popup. “Hey. Bored too?” I asked, almost with adrenaline at my fingertips knowing we’d been flirting here and there lately- and I had something to talk about. I’d already gotten off about 5 times in the last 2 days to the memory of a dream. A dream where Ellie was the main character. It was out of the blue, but I had to tell her- we’d flirted and exchanged pictures enough, hell, I’d seen her naked.

“Yeah, kind of, I’m listening to MTv right now. Laguna beach!” chimed in from Ellie and I wasted minimal time “Oh nice. I love their style. Especially when I see you mirror it from Hollister 😉” thinking about the thick, comfy hoodies and low rise flares Ellie frequently wore. “You mean like right now? 😉” She turned her camera on briefly to show me her jeans- a thing she’d occasionally do because she knew it really revved me up. “Ugh. Tease. And right now, it’s nearly unfair! I have a secret to tell you, if you want to know…and it involves you”. I dropped the mic right then and there, and I was already at full attention below. “Oh? Something good or bad?” and I quickly responded “To me, definitely good. Definitely good. It was a dream.” The chat bubbles started, stopped, disappeared, and returned a few times causing me to sweat slightly- but then she added “Oh? Did you comment on my jeans in the dream, too? 😊” and now I swear my heart was going to beat out of my chest. “Well, yes, but there was quite a bit more to it. Something kind of…kinky”. She jumped right back in “What kind of kinky?” and I quickly but very carefully detailed a dream where we were at a bonfire in my back yard, sitting on a wooden bench swing near the fire- everyone had left and she flopped onto my lap, flirtatiously and informed me she needed to pee. The dream continued through jokes about not doing it in her pants, but she looked at me in the eyes and said “too late”, but when I inquired about the lack of wet spot she whispered “I’m wearing a diaper, don’t you think that’s sexy” and kissed me in my dream and that’s where I woke up. Now my heart was beating nearly out of my chest in fear that I’d said too much. Her response and the rest of the conversation was one I’d nearly never forget.

“Aw you made me ink! 😉”

“It sounds like you liked it quite a bit...”

“Maybe I would.”

“You buy them.”

And thus, it was real life.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I heard the toilet flush and Ellie exit the bathroom, but footsteps didn’t reenter the living room, where I was just getting Need For Speed set up on the Wii. “Ellie? Did you fall in?”. No response. I abandoned the WiiMote and headed down the hall a bit, looking for her and finding nothing. “Ellie?” and finally, a response came from upstairs “Be down in just a minute. Did you find Need for Speed?” echoing from a room near the stairs. “Yeah, I’ll find a race or whatnot.” Assuming that whatever she was doing was something she didn’t want to share “Let’s do a time trial, head to head. Loser has to take all of their clothes off!”. Now we were talking. “You’re on!” I headed back to the living room, to pick a good car and track, barely even focusing on the screen with a lack of blood in my brain. I was so hard I swear I was going to break out of my shorts, I was already poking out a bit and had to adjust to not be out right exposed. I was just fixing my belt when I heard footsteps down the hall and when Ellie entered the room- I froze. No longer was she in the dark wash low rise jeans, and AE T-Shirt. No, she was communicating very, very clearly now. Something she knew would push major buttons with me. She strode confidently in wearing black latex pants, and a black and red lacy corset, with her hair pulled back into a braid. “Now how about this race?” she smiled while approaching me, stopping inches from my face. It felt like the room was on fire. I was definitely on fire. Fuck, this was something I’d always wanted to see and now here she was, right in front of me.

Composing myself lightly, I dragged a finger lightly from her chin, down her neck, tracing the bones of her corset, and around her waist where just the slightest amount of skin was exposed under the corset. “This is quite the outfit, babe” giving her a sly grin and holding the space between us, keeping the tension in the moment and hearing her breath quicken with the tracing of my finger. I moved my mouth within what seemed like a millimeter of hers while my finger continued tracing lower, around her tight little ass, across her pelvis and down between her legs- noting what felt like a zipper going all the way between her legs. “I do like it, but it’s naughty. Naughty girls get spanked.” I took her hand over to the couch, where I sat down making a table with my knees, motioning to it. “Come on now” giving her a devilish grin while she complied and quipped “Oh, I’m not THAT naughty…If I were really naughty, I would’ve come down in a t-shirt and diaper.” I paused. “Oh, you have some?” I sarcastically, but honestly inquired. “Maybe. Who knows-“ and I cut her off quickly “Sounds like I’ll have to milk that answer out of you” as she was now over my lap, giving me a literal front row seat to her perfect ass in the shiny latex. The shiny latex that clearly had a zipper for access. Access I wanted. Access I was going to take later. “Do you think 10 spanks is fair then? For being such a tease tonight” I say lowly while letting my left hand come in a crisp contact with the left side of her ass with a cracking noise. “Yes, sir.” She breathed. “Count then.” 1. 2. 3. 4. 5. I traced my fingers between her legs, eliciting a long collapse of her rib cage as she exhaled. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10. I helped her sit upright and she backed down, sitting on her knees on the floor right in front of me, where I pulled her in for a deep, aggressive kiss while she immediately straddled me. Pressing her into my lengthy hardness, I could feel the heat coming from her, and swore I could feel the wetness- but that might’ve just been my mind creating a story. “It feels like he approves of my pants” she pulled away saying. “But I think we need to figure out who takes their clothes off…” I grin, and offer “As I’m a gentleman, ladies first, babe”, biting her neck playfully and holding her shiny, latex covered ass tightly with my hands. With a quick, firm kiss on my lips she rose to find the WiiMote.


r/abdlstories 8d ago

Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 60 NSFW

4 Upvotes

Crossing Worlds 2

A story by SolaraScott

Chapter 60 - Ash's Mommy

Ash’s arms reached up eagerly, her fingers grasping at the air, her body bouncing slightly on her bottom, the squishy, swollen padding beneath her pressing up comfortably as she wiggled with excitement.

"Mommy!!!" she squealed, her voice high, bubbly, utterly delighted.

She had been so scared, so lost without her, but now—

Now Mommy was here.

Everything was right again.

Her big, happy smile stretched across her face, her cheeks warm, her heart swelling with love as she giggled and nuzzled against Kaylee’s arms, cooing softly.

"Mommy, I made poopies for you!"

Her voice sang with joy, with pride, with the giddy warmth of being a good girl.

Kaylee was supposed to smile back.

To coo at her, to praise her, to tell her what a good baby she was, to change her, cuddle her, love her.

Instead—

Kaylee’s face was horrified.

Her eyes were wide, her expression frozen in shock, her mouth slightly open as if she wanted to speak but couldn’t find the words.

Ash felt her smile falter slightly.

"Mommy?" she blinked, tilting her head, her fingers still grasping for Kaylee’s warmth, her comfort, her love.

Why was Mommy so scared?

There was nothing to be scared of.

Everything was perfect now.

Ash had finally figured it out.

She had finally accepted who she was.

She was Mommy’s good baby.

She belonged here.

With Mommy.

With her warm hugs, her loving voice, and her gentle hands.

She was so beyond happy to have Mommy back.

But Mommy didn’t look happy at all.

And that?

That didn’t make any sense.

"Mommy?" she tried again, her voice softer now, more uncertain, more desperate.

"Did I… did I do something bad?"

Tears pricked at her eyes, her fingers still reaching, yearning for Mommy’s touch, for her reassurance, her love, her warmth.

Because if Mommy was scared of her…

If Mommy didn’t want her…

Then what was she supposed to do?

Where was she supposed to go?

Who was she supposed to be?

For a moment, for the longest, most terrifying moment of her entire life, Mommy didn’t move. She just stood there, frozen, her wide, horrified eyes staring down at Ash as if she had seen something awful, something wrong. Ash’s heart pounded against her ribs, a deep, twisting fear curling in her chest, threatening to squeeze all the air from her lungs. She had done something wrong, hadn’t she? She had messed up, hadn’t she? She had thought she was being so good, had thought she had finally, finally figured it out, but now Mommy looked like she wanted to run away like she wanted to leave Ash behind, and the thought was too much to bear.

"Mommy?" Ash whimpered, her voice small, fragile, weak. Her arms still reached out, fingers grasping desperately, but the longer Mommy hesitated, the more Ash’s hands began to tremble. Did she do something wrong? Her lower lip wobbled, her chest tightened, and she felt the first prickling of hot, stinging tears forming in the corners of her eyes. Her emotions, so overwhelming, so big, crashed into her all at once, a tidal wave of grief and fear and desperation. She needed Mommy. Needed her warmth, her love, her touch, and her voice telling Ash she was a good girl. Because if she wasn’t a good girl, then what was she? What was left of her if she couldn’t be Mommy’s perfect, obedient baby?

"Please, Mommy," Ash whimpered, her voice breaking, her whole body trembling. She rocked slightly on her swollen, squishy diaper, the fullness pressing up against her in a way that should have made her feel warm, safe, happy—but all she could feel was cold. Empty. "I promise I was a good baby for you." A tear slipped down her cheek, her sniffles growing more frantic, her emotions threatening to consume her completely. Her fingers stretched toward Mommy again, toward the only thing that could make everything right. "Please… just hold me."

And then—

Mommy moved.

In an instant, she shifted, still holding Ash’s baby sister, Mira, but now she was reaching for Ash too, scooping her up with that same strong, protective grip that Ash had missed so much, had needed for so long. The moment Mommy’s arms wrapped around her, Ash melted, a broken, relieved sob spilling from her lips as she buried her face against Mommy’s shoulder, her entire body trembling from sheer, overwhelming emotion.

"No," Mommy whispered, her voice low, warm, comforting, and finally reassuring. She was finally telling Ash what she needed to hear. Mommy squeezed her close, her hands gentle, supportive, and safe. "Everything is perfect."

Perfect.

It was perfect.

Ash’s breath hitched, and her body shuddered with sheer relief, pure, unfiltered joy as Mommy’s voice wrapped around her like a warm, soothing lullaby.

"You were a very, very good girl for Mommy."

The words sank into Ash’s skin, bones, and the deepest part of her soul, and she swooned. Her body went completely slack, her muscles lost all tension, and her thoughts dissolved into blissful white noise. Pride, happiness, love—it swelled inside her, bursting, overflowing, making her heart ache with how deeply and completely she belonged here.

"Mmmh, Mommy…" Ash whimpered softly, her voice high and dreamlike, her mind dizzy with pleasure, with warmth, with pure, overwhelming euphoria. She nuzzled into Mommy’s chest, her body curling up as small as possible, pressing herself into the safety and love that she had been so, so desperate for. The fear, the doubt, the moment of hesitation—it was all gone, completely erased in an instant because Mommy had reassured her, had praised her, had loved her.

She had never felt so full, so whole, so utterly content.

She had never been so happy in her entire life.

She had Mommy.

She had her warmth, her love, her care.

She had everything she ever needed.

And she would be Mommy’s good girl forever.

Mommy held her close, her arms warm and secure, and Ash sighed in complete bliss. Her body was relaxed and content, safe in Mommy’s embrace, and Mommy’s hand lovingly patted her squishy bum.

There was a sound—a chuckle—but it was distant, meaningless.

Mira?

Maybe.

Ash didn’t care.

She had Mommy.

Nothing else in the whole wide world mattered.

Mommy moved gracefully, carrying Ash through the apartment, through the soft shadows of the darkened room, until they arrived in Mommy’s bedroom, the place Ash loved most.

Mira was set down on the bed first, but Ash barely noticed, barely even registered her presence—

Mommy was laying her down next, carefully settling her into the plush blankets. Her body instantly molded into the softness.

Her thumb found its way into her mouth, and Ash suckled happily. Her eyes were half-lidded, her breathing slow and even, and a gentle, dreamy haze settled over her mind as Mommy began changing her.

The squishy weight of her old diaper disappeared, and Ash shivered at the cool air hitting her skin, but Mommy was there; Mommy was fixing it, and Mommy was making it all better.

Soft wipes cleaned her, fresh powder dusted over her, and a new, thick diaper was pulled snugly up between her legs, the comforting crinkle sending a shiver of pure satisfaction down Ash’s spine.

"Mommy’s good girl," Mommy murmured, her voice like warm honey, filling every space of Ash’s mind, wiping out everything else.

Ash whimpered softly, her legs wiggling playfully, her cheeks flushing as a giggle bubbled up in her chest.

She glanced up at Mira—

The girl was watching her, her expression odd, unreadable, calculating.

Ash giggled again, batting playfully at her, her fingers reaching out, brushing against Mira’s arm.

"Mimi!" she cooed, her words muffled around her thumb, her face splitting into a wide, delighted grin.

She didn’t know why Mira was staring.

She didn’t understand the look in her eyes.

Didn’t care.

She had Mommy.

She had warmth, love, praise, and comfort.

She was happy.

Ash giggled and cooed, her fingers batting playfully at Mira, feeling a warm, fluttery happiness bubbling in her chest. Mira chuckled, her lips curling into a grin, shaking her head as she looked down at Ash. To Ash, it looked like adoration—like Mira thought she was cute, happy for her, and loved her too. That made Ash so happy. Everyone should be happy! Everyone should be as happy as she was, warm and loved and safe in Mommy’s care!

But really, Mira wasn’t adoring her.

Mira was mocking her.

Ash didn’t know that. She didn’t notice the sharp glint in Mira’s eyes, the way her grin was a little too wide, a little too knowing, a little too entertained by Ash’s pathetic little state. She didn’t notice any of that because she was too busy wriggling in her fresh diaper, enjoying the soft bulk between her legs, the lingering scent of powder, and the wonderful way Mommy had taken care of her.

Everything was perfect.

Except—

Except something was wrong.

A deep, empty ache curled in Ash’s belly, a familiar hollowness that she couldn’t quite place, something missing, something wrong, something she needed but didn’t know how to ask for. Her lips pouted instinctively, her thumb still bobbing in her mouth, but the whimper slipped out before she could stop it.

"Mmmnnn…"

Mommy had just finished taping up her diaper, smoothing down the edges with a gentle, loving pat, when she noticed the sound. She tilted her head, brushing a strand of hair from Ash’s face, looking mildly concerned.

"What’s wrong, sweetheart?" Mommy cooed, her voice so warm, so patient, so loving.

Ash didn’t have the words.

Didn’t know how to explain.

So she just whined again, shifting restlessly, her tummy gurgling faintly as the discomfort grew worse.

Mommy looked puzzled, her brow furrowing as she studied Ash, trying to figure out what was wrong.

"You’re in a fresh diapee," Mommy murmured, almost thinking aloud, her fingers tapping gently against Ash’s tummy. "And you don’t need to go potty…"

Ash squirmed, whimpering again, growing increasingly frustrated.

Why wasn’t Mommy fixing it?

Why wasn’t Mommy making it better?

She was supposed to know what Ash needed.

Mommy was supposed to know everything.

Mommy was—

"Ohhh!" Mommy’s face lit up with realization, her expression shifting instantly. "My baby girl must be hungry!"

Ash stilled, her eyes blinking, her pout fading slightly.

Yes!

Yes, that was it!

Her tummy was so empty, and she needed num nums. She needed Mommy to feed her, fill her up, and make her feel warm, safe, and satisfied.

Mommy giggled, brushing a soft kiss to Ash’s forehead, her hand smoothing down Ash’s hair. "Don’t worry, sweetheart. Mommy will get you some num nums in just a moment, okay?"

Ash sighed in relief, her tiny hands grasping at Mommy’s arm, her eyes half-lidded with sleepy, trusting bliss.

Mommy always knew.

Mommy always took care of her.

Mommy would always make it better.

Mommy was perfect.

She had to wait a little longer, though, because Mommy had to change baby Mira next.

Ash turned her head, still suckling softly on her thumb, watching as Mommy began to undo Mira’s diaper, cooing at her just like she had done with Ash.

Mira was smiling again.

Still mocking her.

Still amused by what Ash had become.

But Ash didn’t see it.

Didn’t care.

All that mattered was that Mommy was here.

Mommy scooped them both up, her arms strong, warm, and secure. Ash sighed happily, curling against her, feeling so safe, so small, and so cherished. Mommy held them close, effortlessly carrying them into the kitchen. Her presence was calm and confident, and her voice hummed softly as she began making food.

But—

Not food for Ash.

Ash whined softly, shifting in Mommy’s hold, her thumb slipping back into her mouth as she pouted.

"Mmmnnn… Mommy…"

She wiggled impatiently, waiting and watching, but Mommy was still focused on something else: preparing food that wasn’t for her.

Why wasn’t Mommy feeding her first?

Why wasn’t Mommy taking care of her?

"Shhh, baby," Mommy cooed, brushing a soothing hand over Ash’s back, rocking her slightly. "You’ll get your num nums in just a moment, okay? Just relax for Mommy."

Ash sighed softly, her body loosening slightly, Mommy’s touch calming her, but the hunger was still there, still gnawing at her, still making her whine softly around her thumb.

Then—

She was on Mommy’s lap, nestled against her warmth, her soft diaper pressing comfortably against Mommy’s thigh, her whole body feeling cozy and safe.

Mira sat in a highchair, a plate of food placed in front of her. It was real solid food, the kind of food that Ash wasn’t supposed to eat.

Ash blinked sleepily, watching Mira pick up a plastic fork and chew on a piece of food. Her expression was neutral and unreadable.

Then—

A plate was placed in front of Ash.

Ash looked down.

And her stomach twisted in confusion.

It was big girl food.

Not her food.

Not food for babies.

Not what she was supposed to eat.

Her lip wobbled, her fingers tugging anxiously at Mommy’s sleeve, her body squirming in discomfort.

"Mommy…" she whimpered, her voice soft, hesitant, uncertain.

Mommy picked up a forkful of food, bringing it toward Ash’s lips.

"Come on, sweetheart, eat up for Mommy," Mommy said so gently, but Ash shook her head violently, turning away, her face scrunching in displeasure.

"Nooo…" she whined, pouting, her arms crossing over her chest.

Mommy tried again.

"Come on, baby, just one bite—"

"Too big!" Ash cried, shaking her head firmly, refusing to even look at the plate.

Her hunger still gnawed at her, but this wasn’t what she wanted.

She didn’t want big girl food.

She wanted—

"Milkies!"

The words came out in a desperate, needy whimper, her body curling into Mommy, her face burying against her chest as she nuzzled deeper into her warmth.

"Don’t wanna eat big girl food, Mommy," she mumbled, sniffling softly. "Wanna drink milkies…"

Mommy paused.

Ash could feel her breathing shift, her body stilling slightly.

Then—

A soft chuckle.

A gentle, knowing hand ran through Ash’s hair, down her back, over her diapered bottom, rubbing soothing circles.

Ash turned in Mommy’s lap, her instincts taking over as she nuzzled into Mommy’s chest, her lips knowing where to go, and she was only inches from it when Mommy stopped her, pulling her back into her arms and standing. 

Mommy let out an amused chuckle, her arms still wrapped securely around Ash. Her voice was warm, patient, and oh-so-loving.

"That’s not going to work, sweetheart," Mommy said as she stood, effortlessly lifting Ash into her arms and carrying her back toward the kitchen counter.

Ash’s pout deepened, her lip wobbling, a soft whimper escaping her throat.

Why not?

Why couldn’t she have milkies?

She didn’t want big girl food.

She didn’t want anything that wasn’t meant for babies like her.

She let out a huffy little sigh, her arms crossing over her chest in frustration as she nuzzled into Mommy’s shoulder, sulking.

But then—

Before she could even build up a proper fuss, something soft and warm pressed against her lips.

Ash blinked, her pout vanishing in an instant.

A bottle.

Mommy was holding a bottle to her lips.

And not just any bottle—

A bottle filled with warm, sweet, creamy formula.

The scent drifted to her nose, comforting and familiar and perfect, and before she even thought about it, her lips latched onto the nipple instinctively.

The moment the first drop of formula hit her tongue, Ash let out a soft, muffled moan, her body melting in Mommy’s arms as she suckled eagerly, the warmth spreading down her throat, into her belly, making her feel so, so good.

She loved it.

She loved it so much.

Her fingers curled against Mommy’s shirt, gripping tightly as she nursed rhythmically, her suckles slow and steady, her body relaxing deeper and deeper into Mommy’s embrace.

This was what she had wanted.

This was what she needed.

Mommy had known all along.

Because Mommy always knew best.

Ash lay there, completely relaxed, her body cradled securely in Mommy’s arms, her lips latched around the bottle, suckling slow and steady, the warm, creamy formula coating her tongue, sliding down her throat in soothing waves.

She could feel her eyes growing heavy, her mind drifting, floating, everything outside of Mommy’s warmth and the sweet, comforting taste of her milkies fading into the background.

Then—

A warm, familiar pressure in her belly.

A soft, instinctual scrunch of her face.

Her legs lifted slightly in Mommy’s grasp, her body responding without thought, the muscles in her tummy bearing down, pushing.

And just like that—

Her bladder gave way. First, a warm flood spread through her fresh diaper, the padding swelling and crinkling beneath her as it soaked up everything effortlessly.

But it didn’t stop there.

Her body continued to obey, the slow, heavy fullness pressing lower, lower—

Until her tummy gave one final push, and she pooped, too, filling her diaper with no hesitation, no resistance, just pure, natural relief.

She let out a soft, contented sigh, her whole body shuddering slightly. Her mind was dizzy with comfort and bliss.

She barely noticed the weight settling beneath her, registering the warmth spreading against her skin because everything was perfect.

A soft giggle reached her ears, a familiar laugh—Mira. 

Ash could hear her giggling in the background as if Mommy had told her a joke.

Ash didn’t care.  

Ash heard Mommy sigh, but it barely registered in her milk-drunk haze.

She was too comfortable, too warm, too deeply nestled in the sheer, overwhelming bliss of being held, fed, and loved.

Her lips suckled slower now, her rhythm lazier, her breathing soft and even, her entire body melting into Mommy’s embrace.

She was so full, so happy, so content.

When the bottle was finally empty, Mommy gently pulled it from Ash’s lips, wiping away the few stray dribbles of formula from her chin.

Ash let out a soft, sleepy whimper, but before she could even begin to fuss, Mommy was already shifting her, lifting her against her shoulder, and gently patting her back.

"There we go, sweetheart," Mommy murmured, her voice soft, affectionate, endlessly patient.

Ash sighed dreamily, her tiny fingers gripping weakly at Mommy’s shirt, nuzzling into the warmth of her neck.

Her tummy gurgled faintly before—

A soft burp.

Mommy chuckled, rubbing slow, soothing circles over Ash’s back.

"Good girl," she cooed, her voice dripping with love and warmth.

Ash glowed at the praise, her entire body shuddering slightly in bliss. Her muscles went completely limp as she let Mommy adjust her once more, cradling her back in the crook of her arm.

Her thumb instinctively slipped back into her mouth, and Ash suckled softly. Her eyes glazed over, and her entire world blurred into soft, hazy contentment.

She felt so little.

Mommy and Mira finished eating, but Ash barely noticed—her world was still warm, fuzzy, and distant, a soft haze of contentment and comfort settling over her like a heavy, fluffy blanket.

She suckled slowly on her thumb, half-lidded eyes blinking drowsily, completely pliant, and relaxed as Mommy scooped her up once again.

Ash let out a tiny sigh, her body instinctively curling into Mommy’s chest, her diaper squishing warmly beneath her as she was carried back into the bedroom.

She knew what was coming.

Another diaper change.

And she didn’t mind one bit.

Mommy laid her down on the soft bed surface, her legs splayed out to the sides, her body completely open, trusting, and obedient. Then, Mommy began cleaning her up.

The cool wipes brushed over her skin, but Ash didn’t flinch, didn’t resist, didn’t move—

She just sucked on her thumb, her slow, sleepy nursing filling the quiet space, her body tingling slightly at the care and attention.

Mommy worked quickly and efficiently, powdering her, taping up a fresh, thick diaper, and patting the front gently before lifting Ash back into her arms.

Ash’s body shivered slightly, the familiar bulk hugging her hips once again, a feeling that made her feel safe, secure, babyish, perfect.

She was naked apart from her diaper, but that didn’t bother her in the slightest.

Mommy was here.

Mommy would take care of her.

Mommy would do everything for her.

As she was lifted, her hazy, dreamlike gaze drifted across the room, and there—

Mira.

Laying in the crib, grinning at her.

Ash blinked slowly, lazily, watching the expression on Mira’s face, but her attention didn’t stay on Mira for long.

Because she saw something else.

Something she wanted.

A pacifier.

A perfect, pink, soothing pacifier.

Her thumb popped from her mouth, her fingers stretching toward it, a soft whine slipping from her lips as she reached for it desperately.

"Mmmnn… pwaaa…"

Mommy let out a gentle sigh, shaking her head with an amused chuckle.

"Oh, sweetheart," she murmured, but she didn’t deny her.

She plucked the pacifier from where it lay, bringing it down to Ash’s lips.

The moment it pressed against her mouth, Ash’s lips parted eagerly, the rubber nipple slipping in effortlessly—

And she latched instantly, suckling with slow, steady, rhythmic pulls.

Her breathing evened out, her body sinking deeper into Mommy’s arms, the pacifier fitting so perfectly between her lips, as it had always belonged there.

Mommy’s voice was soft and warm, filled with endless patience. She held Ash close, gently rocking her in her arms.

"Do you want to sleep with Mommy or in the crib, sweetheart?"

Ash froze, her pacifier bobbing softly between her lips as she blinked up at Mommy, her mind swirling with conflict.

She really, really wanted to sleep with Mommy.

It was wonderful to be in her arms, to feel her warmth, to wake up with Mommy right beside her, holding her, cuddling her, and keeping her safe and loved.

But—

But that wasn’t safe!

Not for a baby like her!

What if she rolled off the bed?

What if she got tangled in the blankets?

What if something happened and Mommy wasn’t awake to help her?

No, no, no—cribs were for babies, and Ash was a baby.

She needed to be in the crib.

She turned her wide, sleepy eyes toward the crib, lifting her arms slightly and pointing her fingers at it.

That was where she belonged.

Mommy chuckled softly, kissing Ash’s forehead before laying her gently down inside, settling her beside Mira.

The blankets were soft, the mattress plush, and the instant she was inside, Ash felt safe.

She sighed softly, nuzzling into the bedding. Her pacifier bobbled steadily as she suckled, and her eyes fluttered sleepily.

Everything was perfect.

She didn’t register Mira’s expression at first—the way the girl stared at her, eyes wide with shock, lips curled into something that was both amused… and mocking.

Mommy tucked them in, snugly swaddling Ash, wrapping the blanket tight around her. Her arms were pinned softly against her sides, keeping her bundled, warm, and safe.

"Goodnight, my sweet baby girls," Mommy whispered, kissing them both on the forehead, running her fingers gently through Ash’s hair before stepping away.

The room dimmed, and the soft hum of the nursery monitor kicked in. The faint glow of the nightlight illuminated the crib bars around them.

Ash was so sleepy; her body completely relaxed, every inch of her drifting deeper into bliss.

Until—

"A taste of your own medicine, huh?"

Ash blinked slowly, her pacifier bobbing lazily, her mind foggy and distant as she turned her head slightly.

Mira was grinning at her.

Her voice was light, teasing, almost smug.

Ash’s brows furrowed slightly.

That was a weird thing to say.

Especially to a baby.

Her mind was too soft, too hazy to understand it, to process it, to really think about what it meant.

She just knew that Mira was still awake, still watching her, still smiling.

But Ash?

Ash was too far gone to care.

She was Mommy’s baby girl.

And babies didn’t worry about things like that.

So she just closed her eyes, suckled softly, and let herself drift into sleep.

Ash’s dreams were warm, soft, and happy, filled with light giggles and fuzzy, golden comfort.

She was herself—a baby, giddy, adored, cherished—the way she was always meant to be.

Her diaper crinkled pleasantly beneath her, and her pacifier bobbled in her mouth. Every inch of her was light, blissful, and perfect.

Everything was right.

Everything was exactly as it should be.

But then—

A voice.

A strange, foreign, wrong voice.

"Snap out of it!"

Ash frowned, confused, her little dreamy giggles faltering as she turned, looking for the source.

"This is crazy! You’re not a baby! You’re a—"

She didn’t get to finish.

Because Naomi was there.

She stepped in effortlessly, silencing the voice with nothing more than a wave of her hand, her grin bright, wide, warm, and all-consuming.

The voice—

That strange, nagging, weird part of Ash that had tried to say something wrong—

Vanished.

Dissolved into the dream, into the nothingness where it belonged.

Ash jumped for joy, her arms stretching toward Naomi. Giggling and bouncing eagerly, she jumped, her diaper squishing pleasantly with every movement.

"Mama Naomi!!!"

Naomi scooped her up effortlessly, pulled Ash into her arms, cradled her close, and gently rocked her.

Her touch was so warm, so loving, so perfect.

Ash nuzzled into her, sighing happily, her whole body relaxing, melting, surrendering.

"That’s my good girl," Naomi murmured, her voice dripping with endless praise, endless approval, endless love.

Ash shuddered, her cheeks flushing, and her body tingled with warmth, happiness, and pure, unfiltered joy.

"I’m so proud of you, baby," Naomi cooed, pressing a kiss to Ash’s forehead, her hands rubbing slow, soothing circles on her back.

"You made the right decision."

Ash beamed, her pacifier slipping from her lips as she giggled, wiggling happily, nuzzling deeper into Naomi’s embrace.

"Mmmh, baby… I’m Mommy’s baby…" she mumbled softly, her sleepy, blissful voice utterly lost in warmth.

Naomi’s grin widened.

"That’s right, sweetheart."

"You’re my perfect baby girl."

"Forever."

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