Just Diapers

"Please stop begging, it is embarrassing. I have all photos I need now to keep you as my little prisoner 🤭, you're in mommy's little web now but I will take care of you, don't worry, go on, open your drawer"

"No, stop crying😅, there's nothing you can do about it now, you're trapped. I will always take care of you sweetie, just accept it.

Little place is an adult daycare about five minutes from Sophies college. She heard about it last year when she was a freshman. Apparently it was a place where men and women are sent as an alternative to prison. Not much is known about the place other than that the people were treated like babies which is weird enough. There was one rumor that it was a place for perverts, like people actually enjoy that stuff.

It was only on Sophies mind because of the add she got on her phone for it. That was even weirder. It's never shown up before. She shrugged and went back to her paper. She worked on it for a while and decided it was time to take a break.

She walked out of her dorm, the fall air felt nice in her lungs. She went for her usual walking path. A long trail around the college, it was only really used by stoners and runners. It was nice and peaceful.

About halfway through her walk she saw Danielle walking the other direction. Sophie and Danielle had an odd relationship. To Sophie the girl was kind of weird. She was very small and socially awkward. The girl alway wore these long dresses that looked in general unattractive. But that was as far as it went. She knew the girl only in passing and wanted nothing to do with her.

When they passed eachother with the obligatory wave and "hello", Sophie could have sworn that she heard a crinkle coming from the girl. She looked over her shoulder and tried to find the source. Just as she did this, Danielle tripped on a root. She didn't fall. But she stumbled pretty bad and accidentally showed Sophie her underwear. She was far away and couldn't make out much. But they were bright pink.

The second Sophie got back to her dorm she went to the computer and tried to find the underwear that Danielle was wearing. She didn't know why, maybe she wanted to see what they were like.

She looked for half an hour and was ready to give up when she miss clicked and opened up a website that sold adult diapers. Low and behold the same design was on some of these diapers. Sophie giggled to herself. "Oh how interesting."

Over the next several weeks Sophie began to pay close attention to Danielle whenever they were around eachother. She wanted to know the scoop on Danielle but no one had any dirt on her.

Eventually she started to follow the girl around. Not unlike stalking but it would only be for a few minutes at a time. She noticed that Danielle would disappear around 2pm every day and it was beginning to annoy Sophie.

A week later Sophie decided that it was time to follow the girl for real. She took her time, didn't look too suspicious. She tracked the girl and saw her going into a building. Sophie walked past it and glanced at the name. She blushed a little bit and stiffled a laugh. The building was the Little Place.

Sophie couldn't help it. She had to tell someone. She had to tell everyone! She sent tweets, texts, and snaps to everyone she knew. She told some people Danielles name others not. She laughed so hard at the thought of Danielle sitting around in poopy diapers and crying for her bottle. It was too good.

Sophie however should have taking things a little slow with telling everyone. Shortly after, she was charged with slander and deformation of character. As it turns out Danielle did not go to Little Place as a punishment, she worked there! Now Sophie had to make a choice. 18 months in jail, or 8 months at the Little Place. She bit her lip and took the latter.

The next day she showed up at the building and was greeted by Danielle and another worker. They took Sophie, put her in a big fluffy diaper with 2 stuffers and a pink onesie.

"You have a choice daily enema or daily spanking." Said Danielle.

"Daily spanking please." Sophie hung her head in shame.

Danielle smiled wickedly. "Oh you will be getting those don't you worry. You'll also get a daily enema right as you get here. If you can hold it for an hour than you won't get one ever again."

Allison knew she was in trouble the instant she walked in the front door; before she could even cross the threshold, or even see her brooding babysitter waiting in the front hall, the piercing tirade hit her.

“ALLISON ELIZABETH SONG! YOU WERE GROUNDED, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?? I SAID STRAIGHT HOME FROM DAYCARE. STRAIGHT HOME! NO EXCUSES, REMEMBER? FIRST YOU THROW A FIT OVER CLEANING YOUR ROOM, AND NOW YOU’RE *AN HOUR* LATE FROM SCHOOL?! OK…YEP, I THINK WE NEED SOME CORNER TIME. LET’S GO!”

Shocked, Allison could only stare as her jaw slowly slacked and eyes started to water. It wasn’t her fault! There was a puppy she just *HADDA* pet: it was soooo alone! And there were flowers she just *HADDA* smell: they were so close! And she just *HADDA* play one last game of tag: everyone else was playing! Allison felt trapped, she felt confused: what else could she have done!? Ashamed and tear-eyed, she let her babysitter’s hand guide her through the house as she mumbled excuses about puppies, and flowers, and tag…

“…mmhm…ok…Allison, SHH! I said no whining. Your Mommy and Daddy said you needed to listen to me while they were gone, and I said you were grounded. And being grounded means you DON’T get to have fun: that’s what being grounded means. You need to learn to listen, Allison, so you’re going to stand in the naughty corner and think about what you did for a FULL hour.”

As the babysitter’s hand left hers, Allison turned from the confines of the naughty corner to face her au pair, whining desperately, hoping for any reprieve from her sentence. Vision blurred from sobbing, Allison watched the au pair move towards the nursery stereo, immediately pausing her tantrum.

The hypnotic nursery music, layered with powerful subliminal regression tracks, had proven extremely effective on Allison: within 6 months of nightly treatment the tracks had transformed her from an aggressively rebellious partier to a well-adjusted student at the local adult daycare. Even her thick daytime diapers no longer seemed to bother her. Timeout still bothered her though, and now Allison was extremely bothered. More than that, watching the babysitter insert the “Potty Tape” into the Kitty shaped speakers, Allison was worried. She knew what THAT tape did, and she knew how LONG an hour was, and, worse, she knew it wasn’t changies until AFTER naptime. Resigned, Allison stared at her au pair as the sickly sweet ambiance began to sound, fidgiting as the babysitter turned to leave the room.

Allison’s first day in Regression Reform School was beyond humiliating: to start, the childish uniform was embarrassing, the chaperoned walk across town was ridiculous, and the pullups were *completely* unnecessary. As her hand was held through yet another crosswalk, Allison couldn’t imagine anything more embarrassing. Couldn’t, that is, until she arrived at the School and met her “peers”: waddling from toy to toy, from playpen to playpen, thick diapers buldging from every skirt and pair of shorts, the crowd of drooling, babbling adults were *happily* immersed in their infantile behavior, seemingly unaware of anything beyond their toys and bottles. The mere sight of them, now her equals, caused Allison’s face to burn with shame. Worried and confused she retreated into a repressed haze, trying her best to ignore the blaring nursery music and childish ruckus surrounding her.

Allison kept a calm posture throughout the day, ignoring “story time”, and “sing along time”, and any of the other baby activities. She was 28, and she was sure she would act it. About an hour after snack time, watching a seemingly mature episode of “Sponge Bob”, Allison felt her stomach gurgle and clench with sudden urgency. She glanced at the VERY public training potties against the nursery wall, thought of Rule 3 (ALWAYS ask a teacher to use the potty) and, stomach churning, realized that she could not, she would not, ask a similarly aged adult something so immature and public. Sure, following Rule 3 was better than breaking Rule 4 (#1 Accidents mean diapers for the day, #2 Accidents mean diapers FOR THE YEAR. NO EXCEPTIONS), but Allison was determined to save her dignity and wait until home; and so, fatefully, she pushed her hands into her lap and focused back on the TV.

An episode later, laying back in a pastel beanbag chair and completely immersed in the cartoon, Allison was alarmed by a sudden spasm. Powerful, the spasm roiled her stomach as a dangerously wet shart escaped into her pullup. Quickly realizing what was happening, Allison swiftly rolled out of the beanbag, jostling her foaming stomach and inadvertantly releasing another, larger, wave of mush into her trainers.

“No, no, no, *no*, *NO*”, she cried loudly, upside down as she struggled with her tights, her bowels continuing to spudder as she thrashed. The spectacle drew the entire classroom’s attention, even drawing one of the overbearing teachers to Allison’s plight.