Forced Regression - Blog Posts

Janette was being punished for being rude to her stepmother and throwing a tantrum. She had been forced into a short pink dress and diapers with pink plastic pants over them. Worst of all her stepmother wouldn’t let her use the bathroom and made Janette hold it in when she had to go potty. It was becoming ridiculous as she hadn’t been to the bathroom all day and Janette was becoming desperate when her stepmother announced they were going on a trip. Janette was made to sit in a child’s car seat in the back of the car and they were off on their trip. When Janette asked where they were going she was shocked to hear they were visiting her real mom. Her mom lived four hours away, there was no way she could hold on that long. She was right as half way through the journey Janette found herself crying as she finally had to let go and pee herself in the back of the car. It was so wet and warm and disgusted Janette. She was no better than a real baby now with a wet diaper on. But her pain wasn’t over yet as she didn’t just need to pee. “I’ve wet myself like you wanted, now can we please stop at a bathroom somewhere so I can get this diaper off. I need to go number two as well,” Janette said to her stepmother as they drove down the highway. “Silly girl,” her stepmother replied, shaking her head. “You aren’t getting changed until we get to your old mommy’s house and as for your poopy, you’re wearing a diaper aren’t you?” The answer terrified Janette who was left crying in her wet diaper. An hour later with another hour to go Janette couldn’t hold on any longer and proceeded to poop in her diaper. It all happened very quickly, one moment she was holding on and then she felt a hot mess slide out of her butt. It was very squishy and stank up the car really quickly. All Janette could do was cry more as her stepmother said, “Well who’s a stinky girl? Don’t worry baby, I’ll get your old mommy to help me change your dirty bottom when we get to her house.”

Look into the camera, sweetheart. Yes, that’s right. Perfect. Stare into that blank black ball on your nursery wall. Let me see the mingled relief and despair in those intelligent eyes. Let me see that fear, that arousal, that groveling, squirming, abject humiliation… Show me just how turned on you are, how embarrassed it makes you feel to be firmly bound, tightly gagged with your own babyish pacifier, and stripped naked on your very own changing table by your very own nursemaid…all while your daddy watches.

Such an absolute baby you are becoming, sweetheart. So immature, so infantile… Goodness, just look at you! You can’t even be trusted to stay put on your changing table, can you? No, you have to be cuffed and strapped down, securely fastened like a helpless, mindless little thing who can’t even control her own body. Nor can you, sweetie; I think the heap of heavy, smelly diapers over in that diaper pail can testify to that… No, we can’t trust you for anything anymore, sweetie - nor should we. You’re our baby now - mine and your pretty little nursemaid’s. You’re ours now, and we’re never going to let you forget. 

Keep staring into your nursery cam now, sweetheart. Remember who’s on the other side, gazing lovingly, in full arousal, at the beautiful sight you present. Think of me: your husband and daddy, the one you crave to please, the one you begged for this very treatment. Remember how you stammered out your longing to me last year, how you yearned to be babied, to be forcibly regressed into infancy? I do. Oh, I do. And because I love you, sweetheart, because I want to give you everything you desire…I gave this to you. Don’t you ever forget, sweetheart.

Be a good little baby now. Spread those beautifully smooth, babyish legs for your Nursie. Feel the soft tickle of the baby powder coating your tender skin, Nursie’s caressing fingers gently massaging it into your yielding thighs. Suckle that nipple Nursie has so firmly strapped into your pretty little mouth, feeling its plump roundness, recalling the feeling of sucking on something very different - something longer and stiffer… Don’t worry, sweetie - someday you’ll get to do that again… Until then, your dummy and your nice, full ba-ba’s will keep you satisfied, keep that lovely suckling mouth occupied…

Oh, yes. Here comes the diaper now - your diaper, honey, and no one else’s. Let the now-familiar musical crinkle fill your ears. Feel Nursie lifting your precious powdered bum, settling you onto that gently rustling, wonderfully thick padding you blushingly told me you love so much. Oh, why are you surprised to feel that extra stuffer being wrapped snugly around your pretty little princess parts? We all know by now just how much you wet, how heavy, full, and soggy your diapers inevitably become. You are a baby now, sweetheart. And babies don’t get to decide what they wear, if anything. Nursie and I will dress you - or not - as we decide. And you, as our baby, will comply. You have no choice…absolutely none.

And that is so incredibly liberating, isn’t it? You are our baby, and nothing more. No choices, no decisions, no grownup thoughts or worries. Yes, worry if you like about your past grownup life. Worry about whether your drenched diapers will leak or not as you plop down onto them with that adorably audible squish. Worry whether you can drink yet another bottle, forcing ever more formula into your swollen little belly… But remember: no amount of worry will ever change anything now, dear. We will treat you as we please - feeding, diapering, changing, dressing, burping you as we see fit. And you will never be able to change that.

Why? your beautiful blue eyes ask. Because you asked for this.

Look into the camera once more, sweetheart. Feel your mind dissolving into infancy, your old self receding. Embrace babyhood, my love - in all its innocent, delightful humiliation. It is my gift to you. Accept it now, blushing… squirming… awash in deliciously sensual, infantile humiliation.

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

Please keep my caption intact if reblogging; as long as you do, may your air-conditioning never break down.