Boys Are Babies

He vaguely remembered them putting something on his hands last night as part of the ridiculous bedtime routine, but at that point, he’d been exhausted by the day, and half out of it from whatever they put in the nighttime baby bottle. 

“Hey!” he shouted. “I need help.”

All around him were the sounds of a nursery full of oversized babies: a wet symphony of snores, mutters, and faint plastic rustles. There was a long, rattling snore like a clogged drain from the far end of the room. Someone mumbled something about ‘milkies,’ presumably in his sleep. The guy in the crib next to him honked a wet, muffled fart into his padding. 

“Hey!” Tyler shouted. He rattled the bars of his crib. “Get me out of here! Something’s wrong with my junk!” 

Silence.

This was bad. His stomach turned cold. Sweat slicked his neck. Everything they’d put him through here could be undone, but not permanent damage to his dick. He’d need that. More than ever, honestly: after all this shit she’d put him through, Monica would never be able to say anything about his late nights at the office, or extended business trips again. 

The door at the end of the room suddenly opened, and Miss Rosie walked in with Miss Elanor, pushing the train-themed diaper cart.  

“Choo choo! Here comes the diapee train!” Miss Rosie called out with far too much enthusiasm. 

“Listen to me!” Tyler shouted. “Something’s wrong in my diaper.” 

“Oh, is that so?” Miss Rosie said, pushing the cart over to his crib. “Looks like someone’s been riding the soggy express all night long. That’s not anything to worry about, though. That’s what lil diaperboys are supposed to do.” 

“I don’t care about that!” he snapped. “I--”

Miss Rosie clapped her hands together gleefully. “That’s wonderful, Ty-Ty! I’m so happy you’re embracing your new life as a bedwetter. It’ll make things so much easier.” 

“I’m not accepting a fu--” He bit his tongue and counted to five while Miss Rosie just smiled at him patiently. “It aches like it’s swollen,” he said as calmly as he could manage. “There’s something wrong with the cage. And I can’t do anything about it because of these mittens you put me in.” He waved his puffy mitts around.

“Cage?” she asked. “What cage would that be?” 

“The stupid torture device you put on my junk.”

“You’re not talking about your PeePee Pal, are you? He’s not a torture device. He’s your little buddy that’s gonna help keep you soft and snuggly.”

Tyler squeezed his fists inside the mitts, digging his nails into his palms. “Fine. Whatever. The PeePee Pal. It hurts. You need to take it off.” 

Miss Rosie stuck out her lip. “Aww. I know it’s a hard lesson--” she giggled “--but that’s just your body learning what that silly lil thing between your legs is and isn’t for. But don’t worry, it won’t last forever.” 

“What do you mean?” Tyler asked. 

Miss Rosie lowered the side of his crib. She placed a warm hand on his clammy thigh. “Your pee-pee will eventually stop struggling and just stay little all the time. Just like you! It’s kinda like the diapers, really: you can fight all you want, but after a while your body will just give up and stop trying to get hard, or hold it for the potty--silly stuff like that.” 

Tyler’s jaw flexed. He stared past her at the wall. He was sure it was a lie. Well, mostly sure. 

“Sit up,” Miss Rosie said. “That’ll help.” 

Tyler sighed and swung his legs over the side of the crib. “And what about these? Why am I wearing them? Unlawful restraint. You know I’m going to include this in the lawsuit, right?” 

Miss Rosie nodded, her mouth pursed like she was trying not to laugh. “Oh, of course. The lawsuit.” 

“So…?” he said, wiggling the mitts around. 

“You were misbehaving last night, after…” Her gaze, normally so direct, darted away for a moment. 

“After what?” he pressed. 

“After we started getting you ready for night-nights.” 

He slowly shook his head. He remembered them getting him ready, mostly. “I’m not--”

“See, isn’t your pee-pee feeling better already? Sometimes, fussy boys just need a distraction. And look, there’s Miss Elanor with the choo-choo train. I bet a nice, fresh diaper will feel good, huh?” 

Tyler tried to remember last night. After the totally bizarre breastfeeding thing, they’d stuck him back in a diaper and given him dinner, or at least what counted for dinner around here. Then there was story time. A diaper change, and--

Wait.

He’d seen something in the hallway as they were getting him ready for the night. What was it? 

“Come, lie on down again,” Miss Rosie said.

“Huh?” 

“Unless you wanna sit in that soggy diaper all morning. Some boys like wet britches, after all. They like wiggling and squirming in ‘em. Miss Cindy thinks it’s because they like how it feels on their boy parts, but I think it’s just because it reminds them they are diaperboys.” 

“Right,” Tyler muttered. It was the most he could muster.

Miss Rosie leaned in close and dropped her voice to a whisper. “Some boys even like sitting in mucky, messy diapers. I wonder if you’ll be one of those…”

He didn’t fight back. Didn’t say anything. He let Miss Rosie slowly lower him onto his back again in the crib as he racked his brain for what he’d seen in the hallway last night. Something startling, but it was all fuzzy. 

Miss Rosie popped the tapes and began wiping him down. He stared at the ceiling, trying to recall last night and what he’d seen. 

“Your PeePee Pal seems alright,” Miss Rosie said. She lifted the small cage with a finger and then let it drop again. “Though it looks like he’s been crying a bit.”

That dragged Tyler back to the present again. “Huh? No. Everything has been aching this morning. I need someone to take it off. Wait--did you say ‘crying?’”

Miss Rosie dabbed at his cage and came back with a bit of clear stickiness on the tip of her finger. “You made your Pal so sad by fighting against him he cried. See?”

A bark of disbelief escaped him at the absurdity of it all. “Sure. If you say so.” 

“I do say so, Tyger.”

“Fine. So can we do something about it?” 

Miss Rosie nodded. “Alright, then. You were going to be taking a class with Miss Calli later this afternoon, but I can move that to this morning. She helps boys form a lifelong bond with their Pals.” 

Tyler gritted his teeth. A lifelong bond with an inanimate object. That made zero sense. But maybe Calli would at least know something about these things. Maybe she’d agree with him that it needed to come off before it did permanent damage.

“Sure. Okay.” 

Miss Rosie beamed. “Wonderful. Now, let's finish your change so we can send you to Miss Calli in a fresh diaper, ‘k?”

***

It took Tyler a moment to recognize the three young women sitting at the front of Miss Calli’s class. He couldn’t remember their names, but they’d been there for the humiliating pooping class. They each wore a different colored dress--one cherry red, one daffodil yellow, one mint green--like they had for the previous class, which had seemed odd at the time, but was most likely just another instance of the center assuming the drooling prisoners under their ‘care’ wouldn’t be able to keep the women straight otherwise.

They remembered him. Three sets of eyes lit up. “Ty-ty!” the girl in the red dress said. “I’m so excited to see you again. We’re gonna learn loads together.” 

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In addition to The Regression Center, you'll find dozens of other stories, like No Running, No Diving, No Dignity. Here's the description:

Ethan’s plan was supposed to be simple: impress Chloe at the community pool and land a date before the square dance. Instead, a harsh lifeguard and a single bad choice turn all of that on its head. It’s a long, hot summer ahead, and Ethan’s about to learn that some humiliations don’t wash off.

His stomach had turned at the way she’d said it, like it was a favor. A blessing they’d bestowed on him. She’d gone on more about ‘naughty thoughts’ and ‘sticky diapers’ and claimed, again, that he and his PeePal would become best friends—even closer friends than the thick, puffy monsters they taped around his hips. When he’d asked how long, she said forever, as if it were as obvious as his bare ass hanging out in front of them. Then she’d told him he didn’t need to cry (he wasn’t), and that he’d have classes to help him adjust soon.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it as he followed her down the hallway. The Pal was impossibly tight, making him constantly aware of its rigidity, and he was totally limp and soft. What would it be like when he got hard? 

Kevie and Benji looked nearly as shellshocked as he felt. Blank stares. Twitchy hands. Kevie kept moving his lips, but no words came out. They walked along behind Miss Rosie. Benji’s pink pig poked out between his legs, somehow both silly and obscene. Kevie kept covering his bunny rabbit with his hand, then dropping it away when he realized what he was doing. Or when he realized Miss Rosie might turn around and scold him for hiding ‘who he was.’

They passed a group of women in the hallway, and he felt suddenly conscious of their eyes on his bare butt. On his locked bits. Bizarrely, he felt almost more babyish without the thick padding between his legs. It was as if he were a silly little toddler running around in his birthday suit, and nobody minded him because of course, it wasn’t offensive for a baby to be naked, and it certainly wasn’t sexy. It was merely cute. Harmless. Something for the women to chuckle about. 

He’d asked to be put in a diaper. He’d actually asked. And yet now, for the first time, they hadn’t put one on him. “Soon,” Miss Rosie had said. “You only just made a tinkle, so I don’t think we need to worry about you making another puddle on the floor. And if you do, it’s no big deal.” She’d shrugged and smiled indulgently. “Babies do that sometimes.”

Miss Rosie paused outside a door. “I have something very special for you boys, now. We had it scheduled for today anyway, but this is perfect timing. We like your little troublemakers to be all settled in their new homes before this next lesson. Helps keep any naughty thoughts contained.” 

“Wha, what is it?” Kevie asked. 

“Well, if you go on in, I’ll tell you, sillybuns,” Miss Rosie said.

Kevie stepped inside. Benji followed a moment later.

“I can’t go in there without clothes on,” Tyler said. 

“Silly boy. You’re wearing a shirt. And your PeePee Pal. Besides, modesty is for ladies.”

“That’s. I…”

“In you go, Ty-Ty,” Miss Rosie chirped, giving his backside a firm pat. “Join your little friends. We’ve got another extra-special lesson for you this evening.”

Tyler sighed and stepped into the room, tugging his baby blue shirt as low as it would go, which wasn’t nearly low enough. The stupid thing barely covered his belly button to begin with.

Once again, the brightly-coloured kindergarten furniture had been pushed against the walls. But this time, a number of rocking chairs had been set up in their place, evenly spaced around the room. Miss Nora, the same woman who’d overseen the awful ‘public pants pooping’ lesson the day before, was here again, clapping her hands for silence.

“Okay, boys, it’s time for another practical lesson! Some lovely ladies from the local community have volunteered to come in to help you, and I expect you all to be on your best behaviour. Today’s subject is breastfeeding!”

Tyler felt a cold, dropping sensation in his stomach, like icewater sluicing into his gut. A door opened, and a group of women was escorted inside. They were older than the college students had been, looking as though they ranged in age from their late twenties to their early fifties. They strained against their blouses, cleavage instantly drawing the gaze of nearly every boy in the room.

The ABC staff divided them up, one for each diaperboy, and Tyler soon found himself face to face with a raven-haired, heavily tanned woman of around forty. She had big hoop earrings, a wide smile, and an extremely generous bust.

“Awww, wook at his widdle bum-bum!” 

Before Tyler could so much as move a muscle, the woman had reached behind him and pinched his ass. “What a cutie-patootie! How come you don’t got a diapie on, mister? Is it ‘cause you’re a big boy? Somehow, I doubt that.” She bellowed a throaty laugh that made her earrings sway.

Tyler tried to protect his backside from the woman’s roaming hands, her nails grazing his skin. He twisted aside.

She went for his junk next. She jiggled the orange tiger cage that imprisoned his manhood with the tip of one long, red fingernail. “Definitely not a big boy. No more stiffie-wiffies for you, hmm? Poor baby! I’d have guessed a handsome boy like you would have a big wee-wee, but it must be pretty itty-bitty if it’s able to squeeze in there.”

Tyler’s face burned. He gave her a slow up-and-down glare meant to cut her down. “Or maybe you just don’t do anything to excite me.” 

The woman raised an eyebrow. She looked more amused than annoyed.

He squeezed his fists, digging his nails into his palms.

Miss Rosie put her hand on his shoulder. “Tyger here has some outdated, selfish views about women. Like we’re all just props for his conquests. But we’re doing our best to get him on a better track, aren’t we, Ty-Ty?” 

“My ideas are outdated?” Tyler said. “You put me in a medieval chastity cage like I’m some princess locked in a castle.” 

Miss Rosie sighed. “See what I mean? He just can’t see the difference between a powerful princess being robbed of her agency and a silly diaperboy—a diaperboy who has already caused so much hurt with that silly little thingy between his thighs—being put in his proper place.” 

The woman shrugged. “Happy I can do my part. Should I be worried about him spraying my blouse?” She waved her hand at Tyler’s parts.

“Well, he is a bit of a dribbler,” Miss Rosie said. “And I’m sure a tum-tum full of milkies will only turn up the faucet.” 

“That’s ridiculous,” Tyler said with as much gusto as he could muster with pee droplets drying on his skin. 

Miss Rosie continued, ignoring him. “He just piddled all over his legs. Should’ve seen it. Reminded me of a clumsy lil pup lifting its leg on the carpet. So I suppose it’s appropriate we’ll get you a puppy pad to protect your lap.” 

She chuckled, and the woman chuckled along with her. 

Miss Rosie gestured at one of the aides, who walked over with a blue and white puppy pad.

“My name’s Evelyn, honey,” the seated woman said. “I’m your wetnurse, if you haven’t figured that out already.” She paused. “But I’d prefer not getting wet, if you know what I mean.” 

“Seriously?” Tyler asked. “Monica is gonna have a shi—she’s not going to like this. Me playing with another chick’s tits? Even one who’s more on the cougar end of things.” 

Both women burst out laughing. 

The laugh cut sharper than any scolding, leaving his words dangling. Pathetic.

“Sweetie, I’m not sure anyone will see a locked-up diaperboy with piddle spots on his legs and anxious wittle goosebumps on his arms as much of a sexual threat. Besides, your mommy signed off on this. She wants you to be ready for her. You’ll have a lot of breastfeeding in your future.” 

“No frickin’ way,” he said. “Unh-uh.”

Miss Rosie put her hand on his back and gently pushed him closer. “This will help you build a new kind of intimacy with your mommy. Warm and cuddly and oh-so-special.” 

“I’m not doing it.”

Miss Rosie. “Really? Such a big, strong man who loves talking about all his grown-up conquests is scared of a lady’s breasts? I’m surprised.” 

“It’s just stupid,” he said. 

All around the room, shirts were being pulled up. Bras unclasped. Diaperboys were crawling onto laps and settling into place as well as they could. 

“Ty-Ty likes doing things with a red bottom,” Miss Rosie said to Evelyn. “I think it must be his favorite color.” 

“Fine,” Tyler seethed. 

You wanna play this game? I’ll have this woman moaning my name in ten minutes. They can put that in the report to Monica. 

“That’s a good boy,” Miss Rosie said. “Now be gentle. If he’s rough, Evelyn, let me know and I’ll handle it.” 

Miss Evelyn put a hand on his back and drew him closer. He settled awkwardly onto the puppy pad on her thighs, his legs draped over the large rocking chair’s arm. He felt so exposed with his bare butt hanging out in the breeze, cool air from the AC needling his crack. 

Evelyn drew up her blouse and unclasped her bra, exposing a heavy, pendulous breast that jiggled as it came free. Her nipple, pink and full, had a drop of milk perched on its tip. She cupped the back of his head and in her hand and drew him closer. “Heeerre we goooo.” 

He’d had plenty of breasts in his mouth. Squeezed and sucked and played with them. Watched the women moan and writhe and beg for more. Beg for his cock in them. This was different. No heat of conquest. No control. Just being guided, helpless. She was in control here, and his cock was out of the picture. Locked, limp, and totally useless.

Well, maybe not totally limp. 

The tight fit had grown a bit tighter still, the ring pulling at his full balls. 

“You’ll have to open wider than that, sweetie,” Evelyn said, chuckling. 

Tyler opened his mouth, and she guided her nipple between his lips. Her skin soft and gently pebbled against his lips and on his tongue. The smell of her body, of vanilla lotion, filled him. 

“Mmmmm, such a good boy,” she sighed. 

He felt her words as much as he heard them, along with the gentle rush of her heart and rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing. 

“Now go ahead,” she said gently. “Just like you do with your ba-ba.”

 He started to suck. Warm, sweet milk immediately filled his mouth.

“Mmmmm, there you go.” She gently rubbed his cheek with her thumb. “Such a sweet boy.” 

He drifted into a pleasant haze. His eyelids heavy. His limbs slack. The world warm. Comfy. Soft. Sweet milk filled his mouth and ran down his throat. There was something he’d meant to do, wasn’t there? He’d wanted to…he couldn’t think of it. Had they drugged him again? With her milk? That didn’t make sense. And it didn’t matter. 

He floated.

“Ty-Ty,” Miss Rosie was whispering in his ear.

He opened his eyes to see her standing over him, rubbing his back. He was still on Evelyn’s lap, her nipple resting on his lips. She smiled down at him. 

“Time to get up,” Miss Rosie said.

“You did wonderful, sweetie,” Evelyn said. “Your mommy is going to be so proud of her special little man.” 

“Did he…?” Miss Rosie asked. 

Evelyn shook her head. “Perfect little gentleman. Though I think this puppy pad took about all it could handle. He’s quite the little firehose.” 

Tyler jerked upright and nearly toppled off her lap. The puppy pad he sat on was swollen, damp, and yellow. “I didn’t do that,” he said reflexively. 

Miss Rosie giggled. “No? It must have been the tinkle fairy then, hmm? Come on, now. Say buh-bye to Miss Evelyn.” She took his hand and helped him off her lap. 

He swayed on his feet, trying to make sense of what had happened. How long had he been there? His thoughts felt fuzzy, and there was a gentle ringing in his ears. Milk still coated his tongue and lips.

One of the aides led another diaperboy over. He stood there, off to the side, waiting. Miss Evelyn slid her bra down into place, giving him one last look at her breast before it was hidden. Then she raised her shirt on the other side and unclasped her bra. 

The other diaperboy walked over, hands clasped behind his back, his greedy eyes locked on her chest. 

Tyler felt a stab of jealousy. Of hurt. And then just as rapidly, of foolishness. 

What the hell is wrong with you? You have no connection to this woman. She’s just another tool in this system of control and humiliation. 

Then Miss Rosie was ushering him out the door and into the hallway. “Time to get you in a diaper, Ty-Ty. All safe and secure again.” 

Want to read the entire The Regression Center series so far in one convenient location? Check out my Ream.

In addition to The Regression Center, you'll find dozens of other stories, like The Good News, which is at 56 chapters and going strong. Here's the description:

Hailey volunteers for SHINE, a college organization that believes all males belong in diapers.