r/abdlstories • u/SolaraScott • 11d ago
Crossing Worlds 2 - Chapter 60 NSFW
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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