Diaper Sissy

CHAPTER 3 - Learning the Ropes

Link to Chapter 1

Link to Chapter 2

Another day. She said to herself. Another day in hell.

She pushed through the heavy double doors into the Nursery Wing. Day three. Only four hundred and eighty-four hours left on the clock, and the ankle monitor already felt like it had fused to her skin. She kept her eyes forward, sneakers squeaking against the polished linoleum.

The hallway was the same bizarre mash-up of hospital, nursery, and prison it had been yesterday. Pastel walls. Smiling elephants with frozen googly eyes. Soft block lettering on every sign. But underneath the cutesy paint job the sounds never changed: muffled coos and bath-water splashing from Block B, a high-pitched whine of protest from somewhere in the Sissy Ward accompanied by rhythmic clapping and unh-unh-unhhh, as well as sloppy sounding gluck-gluck-glucks. In the Nursery Ward, wet babbling and desperate little gulps drifted from D-3 like someone was being force-fed again. A rhythmic crinkle-and-sob combo came from D-5, another messy change in progress, probably. Someone was getting spanked in D-6 judging by the loud cracks and cries, followed by “Now get in the corner! Knees to the ground, nose to the wall!” A grown man crying with blubbering hiccups echoing through the door. 

The whole corridor smelled like the usual cocktail of talc, antiseptic, and warm urine trying to hide behind lavender air freshener.

She stopped outside Nursery D-7. The wall-mounted charting station glowed softly. She tapped the screen and it flickered to life with the early-morning report.

Participant: Corey Lassiter – Level Two

Assigned Primary Sitter: Danielle Monroe

Overnight / Early-Morning Summary (Morning Attendant Log):

Inmate had overnight leak. Diaper changed at 07:18. Sheets changed at 07:26am.

12 oz Stage 2 formula bottle administered at 07:47 (fully consumed).

Morning regression supplement administered (fiber, muscle relaxant, incontinence booster). No adverse reactions.

35 minutes of supervised screentime in common area. 1 episode of Barney, 2 Cocomelon songs. Subject stayed on playmat. Clapped to songs where appropriate. 

Art activity: Finger painting. Subject drew a Giraffe. Work showed too much control and detail. Needs further regression.

Scheduled nap at 11:15 observed and logged.

Compliance rating: High. No incidents.

Danielle read the chart over again. The Morning Attendants had already done their usual sweep. They were just rotating relief staff, there to handle the bare minimum when the primary sitters weren’t on duty. They woke the inmates, cleaned up their overnight messes, shoved a bottle in them, parked them in front of cartoons for a while, then put them back down for the scheduled nap. Apparently they weren’t considered “Sitters”, that was her lovely job. Danielle was the ‘Primary Caregiver’, the one who got all the ‘fun’ parts of taking care of a grown man in diapers. She was the one who had to do most of the feedings, changings, disciplining, and ‘relationship building’ as the training manuals had called it. Turning him into whatever the Matriarchal Court decided a “rehabilitated” adult was supposed to look like.

She pressed her badge to the scanner. The light blinked green. Her ankle monitor chirped in perfect, mocking sync.

The door slid open.

She stepped inside and froze.

The room was still in sleep mode, lights dimmed to a soft golden haze, lullaby playing low and tinny from the ceiling speaker. The crib dominated the far wall, bars tall and reinforced, looking more like a little prison cell than anything.  It only happened for a few seconds. A faint, rhythmic rustling. Plastic crinkling. Weight shifting against the padded mattress. Quick, guilty little movements like someone not taking a nap, but instead trying to finish something before they got caught. The blanket twitched. A shoulder jerked once, hard.

Then everything went perfectly still.

Danielle narrowed her eyes. The bars were high enough that she couldn’t see his face, but she could see the edge of the yellow giraffe plush clutched in one fist and the way the blanket had bunched up around his hips.

“Corey?” she said, voice flat.

A beat of heavy silence. Then he sat up too fast, knees snapping to his chest, pacifier still lodged between his lips. His short hair was disheveled, either from sleep or something…else. His cheeks were already flushed a deep, guilty pink. He blinked at her with wide eyes, trying way too hard to look innocent.

“G-good morning, Ms. Danielle,” he mumbled around the shield of the pacifier, voice small and shaky.

“What were you doing?”

“N-nothing, Ms. Danielle!” he squeaked.

“Drop the ‘Ms.’” She said for what felt like the 100th time, “Just Danielle.” 

She couldn’t help but feel like a mother walking in on her son doing something she would…rather not think about. So she didn’t. Or, at least, tried not to.

She crossed the room and dropped the crib rail with a metallic clack. The sound made him flinch.

“Out,” she ordered.

He rose unsteadily, bare legs trembling, the thick diaper forcing that familiar waddle. The front of his onesie looked slightly swollen. Danielle’s gaze flicked downward automatically.

“You wet?” she asked, suspecting she already knew the answer.

Corey’s eyes dropped to the floor. “I… I think so. A little.”

“From a whopping 30-minute nap?” Danielle said dryly.

Corey flushed darker. Danielle sighed. “Alright let’s–”

The charting station gave a soft, cheerful ping. A calm synthetic voice followed.

“Level Two protocol reminder: Inmates may not self-report hygiene status. Primary Sitter must perform visual and tactile confirmation before any determination is logged.”

Danielle glanced up at one of the many cameras adorning the ceiling, their little red lights staring down like unblinking eyes.

She exhaled through her nose. Oh you’ve got to be fucking kidding me. She thought. They had to make this as infantilizing and degrading as possible. 

For both of them.

“Stay still.” she ordered. “Do not make this weird.”

He bit his lip and nodded.

She crouched low enough to hook two fingers into the crotch of his onesie and popped the little buttons one by one. The fabric sprang open with a soft snap-snap-snap, exposing the thick white padding underneath. It looked more disheveled than usual, like he’d been shifting and squirming quite a bit in the crib.

Then came the awkward part.

She reached in and pressed her palm flat against the front of the diaper, groping the warm, crinkly padding while Corey knelt there awkwardly, his stuffed giraffe dangling by its arm as he winced. Her fingers had to press and squeeze to feel how saturated it was. Inevitably, she could feel his little nub inside. It was…stiffer than normal, pressing back against her touch. She told herself it was just morning wood. Nothing more. Still, the whole thing felt far too intimate for two adults who barely knew each other.

His diaper was damp, but not quite heavy. She examined the blue wetness indicator line running down the front. The faint scent of urine rose with the movement. There was a little scale of numbers running along the sides of the line, like a little thermometer, but it measured something else. Wetness level 1 through 10. The blue line had only climbed to a 3. 

She knew the rule by now: He needed at least a 7 to be changed, a 5 if he was messy.

“Three,” she said, more to herself than to him. “You can wait.”

She didn’t bother resnapping his onesie. She simply let the fabric hang open, leaving the swollen, slightly yellow-tinged diaper on full display. There was no point in hiding it. Not here.

Corey’s cheeks burned darker. He didn’t argue. He never did. He simply knelt there, hands fidgeting at his sides, the pacifier still bobbing between his lips.

Danielle straightened, wiping her fingers on her scrubs. She hefted a heavy sigh and glanced over at the charting station. “So… what do we have planned for today?” Danielle muttered, stepping over to the tablet on the wall. She tapped the screen. “A feeding? Already?” she read, eyebrows raised.

She turned to Corey. “Are you even hungry?” she asked, hoping for a ‘no’.

Corey shook his head. “Not really.”

She sighed in relief. “I think you can wait,” Danielle muttered, turning away.

The speaker in the corner of the room buzzed sharply.

Bzzt!

Be advised that all Littles are on a strict schedule and regiment. All feedings and activities will take place as specified.

Danielle groaned and rubbed her temple. “Whelp. You heard it.” She said, “Up. Highchair. Now.”

Corey pushed himself up with a soft, defeated crinkle and waddled over, the damp diaper swaying between his thighs. Danielle fumbled with the highchair tray, grunting and scoffing as the latch stuck twice before she finally managed to click it free and swing it open. She pushed him into the seat, pressing down firmly on his shoulders until his padded bottom settled with a squelching squish. The tray clicked down and locked with a snap.

“Okay…” She sighed, trying to steady herself. “Well, I guess I’ll get your bottle read—”

Bzzzt!

Solid foods are to be administered by spoon at this time.

Danielle rolled her eyes so hard it almost hurt. “Okay, fine. Mush it is.” She stomped over to the kitchenette, muttering the entire way. “What a fucking joke...” She yanked open cabinet after cabinet, slamming them shut when she didn’t find what she needed. Finally she located the shelf stacked with mason jars of pureed food in varying shades of unappealing beige, purple, green, and orange. She snatched one of the large jars and headed back toward the highchair.

Bzzzt!

“Two jars of Stage 2 puree required.”

Her face flushed crimson in frustration at being micromanaged. She stomped back to the cabinet, grabbed a second jar, and slammed the door so hard the hinges rattled. She was halfway back when she realized she needed a bowl and a spoon. “Ughhh!!” she growled, rummaging through the drawers until she found a small plastic bowl with a suction cup base and a large baby spoon. She slammed the bowl down on the counter, popped both jars open, recoiled at the awful smell, and dumped the thick greenish orange slop into it. One jar at a time.

Bzzzt!

Attendant needs to ensure that all product is emptied from container.

“Agghh!” She snatched the spoon and angrily dredged the inside of each jar, scraping out every last stubborn smear until the containers were practically spotless.

Bzzt!

A scoop of Pixie Powder required.

“Jesus fucking Christ!” Danielle was so livid, she didn’t even bother measuring properly. She just grabbed the container labeled Pixie Dust – For Regression and Pansification, scooped out a rough lump, and dumped it into the bowl, stirring with angry, violent circles. The mixture turned into a lumpy, glistening paste.

“Is that good??” she called mockingly toward the ceiling cameras. “Did I do it the right fucking way this time??”

She lifted the bowl from the counter, but the suction cup base caught for a second, then popped free. The sudden motion sent a thick splatter of mush flying upward…directly into her face.

Danielle froze. Greenish-orange puree dripped from her cheek, her forehead, even the tip of her nose. 

For a split second the room was silent. Then she screamed in pure rage. “Are you fucking kidding me?!” She snatched a burp cloth and furiously wiped her face, the cloth coming away smeared and sticky. Her scrubs now had fresh stains across the front. She was irate, breathing hard through her nose, eyes blazing. Storming back to the highchair with what remained of the bowl.

She gripped the oversized baby spoon, scooped a massive, heaping dollop of the slop, and raised it toward Corey’s mouth.

Bzzzt!

Bib required for feeding.

“Oh you’ve got to be fucking KIDDING me!” she roared, snatching the bright yellow bib from the hook and fastening it around Corey’s neck with a sharp, vicious tug. The strap dug into his skin.

Corey groaned softly, staring at the greenish glop on the spoon.

“Oh don’t start,” Danielle snapped. “You know neither one of us get a say. Now open up!”

Reluctantly, Corey’s mouth quivered open. She shoved the first heaping spoonful inside. He recoiled, gagging as the grainy texture hit his tongue. She was already loading the next spoonful before he could even swallow.

“Mmph. It’s cold.” he whimpered.

“Too bad,” she said, shoving it in his mouth, already scooping the next bite. “I’m sure if I try to warm it up the fucking buzzer will go off again.”

“I don’t like cold mush…”

“Well, I don’t like grown men pooping themselves once or twice a day,” she shot back. “Yet here we are...”

She kept going, spoon after spoon. At first she tried to stay methodical, but her patience frayed with every wet, reluctant swallow. Corey’s cheeks bulged. Greenish-orange dribble began to escape the corners of his mouth and run down his chin in thick streaks, soaking into the bib.

The feeding sped up.

She loaded the spoon heavier and moved faster, forcing the mush in before he could fully swallow the last bite. More dribble ran down his chin. She growled and scraped the runaway slop up with the spoon, shoving it right back between his lips.

“Ughh, you’re making a fucking mess,” she snarled. “Disgusting. Just hurry up and swallow it. Let’s get this over with.”

He continued to whine and groan, doing his best to keep up. His stomach bloated, his diaper crinkling as he shifted in discomfort.

She shook her head at his pitiful whimpering, “I swear, sometimes it feels like I’m the one being punished more than you…”

Corey whimpered around the spoon, eyes watering.

“I’m the one that has to change your shitty diapers. I’m the one that has to watch you make a mess of yourself with this fucking slop. And I’M the one that has to wait on you hand and fucking foot all goddamned day!”

She still felt sticky and gross, the mush from earlier congealing on her skin. She gripped the burp rag again and wiped her face and chest with rough, angry strokes.

“You really think it’s as good as it sounds?’ Corey said now that he had a bit of a reprieve from the feeding. Danielle paused, crooking an eyebrow. 

“YOU get to go home at the end of the day.” He continued, “You get a full-sized bed. Not one that’s half your size and crunches and crinkles every time you so much as exhale.”

It was the first time he’d spoken to her in anything other than the small little petrified voice he always had. She stared in disbelief, but he wasn’t done.

“You get to stare at your phone, laugh at funny videos, you get to know what’s going on in the world. The only screen time I get is thirty minutes a day of obnoxious juvenile shows.”

She stood there, wondering where all this sudden animosity was coming from.

“I don’t even remember what it’s like to chew anymore. I can’t tell you the last time I’ve actually chewed anything other than a freaking teething ring! You get to have REAL food. Pizza. Sandwiches. Tacos. STEAK. Do you know how much I'd kill for a flipping steak?? But instead, all I get is this nasty, grainy, runny slop…”

He paused, letting the words sink in. Then he sighed heavily, dropping his tone, slumping his shoulders.

“You get to use a toilet.” He said softly, blushing despite himself. “Do you have any idea what it’s like? How degrading it is to crap all over yourself? To have to sit in your own shame and wait to be changed? To be scolded for doing something you have literally no choice but to do? Do you really think YOU are the only one being punished here? Would you like to switch places?? Because I would gladly do so.”

The spoon hovered in the air. Green mush dripped from it onto the tray in slow, wet plops. For the first time that morning, Danielle didn’t have an immediate sharp comeback. The words landed heavier than she expected. She stared at him. Really looked. His glassy eyes, cheeks flushed, the bib already ruined with streaks of mush. 

Something twisted in her chest. Not guilt exactly. Just the uncomfortable weight of a truth she didn’t want to carry.

“Just eat,” she snapped, voice tight. “You’re not allowed to talk about it. You’re not allowed to do anything without me doing it for you. That’s the whole fucking point.”

She kept going, but a little softer this time. Not as fast, not quite as relentless as before. She waited for him to choke each bite down before bringing the next one to his lips. An awkward silence settled over the room.

“You know, I—”

The door scanner beeped. The lock released with a pneumatic sigh.

In strutted a woman who carried herself like she owned the entire Nursery Ward. Tall, confident, with a sharp smile and the kind of effortless authority that came from too many years in these pastel hells, despite looking like she was merely in her early 20’s. 

“Awww, am I interrupting someone’s num-num time?” Her voice dripped with mock sweetness. She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed under her voluptuous breasts, gum snapping loudly between her teeth as her sharp eyes swept over the messy high chair scene.

Corey tensed instantly, his shoulders hunched tight, and he audibly gulped, the nervous sound cutting through the quiet nursery. A deeper flush crawled up his neck as he stared down at the tray, thighs pressing together with a faint crinkle of his thick diaper.

Danielle straightened, spoon still in hand, a streak of cold mush smeared across her scrubs. “Who the hell are you?”

“Name’s Jenna,” the woman said, gum smacking as she sauntering closer. “I used to be Corey’s Sitter before they reassigned me to the Sissy Ward. Couldn’t resist popping in when I heard the new girl was on shift.” She gave Corey’s hair a quick, patronizing ruffle, making him flinch and duck his head lower. “You know, before the Matriarchy took full control and started putting about a third of the men into diapers, there were actually some who had a fetish for this kind of thing. Can you believe that? Weird little secret pervs who got off on the idea of being babied and helpless.”

Jenna’s eyes lingered on Corey for a moment, her smile turning knowing. “For most of them, it’s a genuine punishment. I’ve seen men’s psyches absolutely shatter from it all: the constant dependency, the humiliation, the loss of every last scrap of control. They break so beautifully. But some of them?  Some of them like it. Or maybe they loved it all along. The regression. The diapers.The total surrender.”

Danielle felt a flicker of unease twist in her stomach. She set the spoon down harder than necessary. “What’s your point?”

Jenna shrugged, snapping her gum again. “Just catching you up, newbie. That’s all. You’ve been with him a few days now. Have you caught him humping yet? Some of the quiet ones start grinding against their diapers when they think no one’s looking. Pathetic, right? Like they can’t help chasing that little bit of friction even while they cry about how much they hate it.”

Danielle’s gaze flicked to Corey, she couldn’t help but think of earlier when she first came in. The sounds she heard. Or thought she heard. The rustling in the crib. The way Corey had frozen.

Jenna smirked, clearly enjoying the shift in Danielle’s expression. “If you want, I can show you how to lock him up in a nice, tight little chastity device. There’s also a few tricks I can show—”

“He’s my assignment,” Danielle said tightly, surprised to find that she had taken a step forward, forming a little barrier between Jenna and Corey. Her voice came out sharper than she intended, defensive. “And he’s not some fetish case. He’s just…doing his time. Like I am.”

Jenna chuckled, low and amused. “Sure, sure. Keep telling yourself that. But watch him close, Monroe. You’ll see it eventually.” She blew a bubble, let it pop loudly, and turned toward the door with a wink. “Good luck with your little project. Call me if the humping starts getting out of hand.”

The door hissed shut behind her, leaving the nursery thick with a heavy silence. Corey sat trembling in the high chair, mush still streaked across his chin and bib, his breathing shallow and uneven. Danielle stared down at him, her earlier frustration now tangled with something else. An almost possessive pull. 

Neither of them spoke. There was a long, awkward silence. Neither of them really knowing where to go from there. 

“I… I don’t like it,” Corey finally said, voice small and awkward. “The diapering and stuff. It’s… it’s not like that.”

Danielle didn’t reply right away. She wasn’t sure she cared, that she even wanted to know. It didn’t change anything. Instead, she simply loaded another spoonful of cold mush and brought it to his lips.

“You two have quite the history, huh?” she asked after he swallowed.

Corey shrugged weakly, eyes fixed on the tray. “She was with me from Level One into Two. She seemed to have a weird fixation on me. Always belittling me and going out of her way to punish and scold me. Even if I did nothing wrong.” he shivered, as if remembering some particularly painful memories. “She was…very mean to me. For no real reason.”

Danielle studied his flushed, miserable face, the doubt from Jenna’s words still gnawing quietly at the back of her mind. “Do you feel like I treat you the same way?”

He shrugged again, even smaller this time, staring down at the tray. “Sometimes…”

That made her feel a little guilty. Not that she should. Just because he was in diapers didn’t mean she always had to coddle him. He was a big boy, he should be able to handle it. 

She scraped the last of the cold mush into his mouth, wiped his chin roughly with the bib, and unbuckled the tray. Leaning down, she checked beneath it, poking lightly at the front of his diaper. The blue wetness indicator had only crept up to a five. 

A quick glance at the wall chart confirmed the next item: Supervised Playtime – 120 minutes

Danielle sighed and mopped up the rest of the mess on his face and onesie before unclasping the tray completely. “Alright. Playtime, I guess.”

As she got the oversized plastic blocks and soft toys ready on the padded mat, another sharp buzzer sounded from the speaker.

“Protocol reminder: Mittens required during all unstructured play.”

She rolled her eyes. “Hands.”

Corey held out his arms without protest. She slid the bulky, padded mittens over his hands one by one, clasping them snugly at the wrists. The annoying little bells jingling the whole time. 

Bzzt!

“Pacifier needs to be in at all times other than feedings.”

She snatched the oversized binky from the highchair tray. It was still drooly and glistening from earlier use. She stuffed it into his mouth.

Once his play area on the floor was set up properly (which they made sure to remind her every step of the way) she dropped into the plastic chair by the wall and crossed her arms.

The playtime was exactly as boring as it sounded.

Corey sat cross-legged on the mat, open onesie hanging loose around his hips, the damp diaper on full display. He had to use both bulky mittened palms just to pick up one oversized block, the little bells jingling pathetically with every clumsy attempt. He fumbled it constantly, dropping it several times before awkwardly wriggling it back into place. The tower grew slowly, lopsided and pathetic. Every few seconds he glanced up at her, seeking the tiniest nod of approval that Danielle only gave with mocking sarcasm.

The lullabies droned overhead. The only other sounds were the soft clack of plastic, the occasional faint crinkle of his diaper, and the constant, stupid jingling of the bells on his mittens.

Minutes dragged by like hours.

Danielle stared at the wall, jaw tight. This was her life now: watching a grown man in a pissy diaper try to stack blocks like it mattered. She lasted another full minute before the boredom clawed at her.

“Fuck it,” she muttered. She stood, walked over, and lowered herself to the mat beside him with a heavy sigh.

At least sitting on the floor and stacking blocks herself made the time feel slightly less endless.

After a stretch of silent, mundane “playing,” the speakers gave a soft ping. The synthetic voice returned, bright and cheerful:

“Regression protocol reminder: Inmates and Sitters must demonstrate age-appropriate vocalization during supervised play. Cooing and babbling required for compliance.”

Corey didn’t even hesitate. He let out a soft, awkward “goo… goo-ga… ba-ba…” around his pacifier, the sounds wet and lisping.

Danielle, however, wasn’t as enthused. They wanted her to coo and babytalk too. She couldn’t believe how low she was sinking. But the threat of more added hours kept her compliant.

She raised the pitch of her voice as best she could. “Awww! Look at the w-widdle cutie…” It sounded ridiculous coming out of her mouth. She was twenty-eight, on probation, babysitting a grown man in diapers… and now forced to babytalk him for someone’s sick amusement.

“Does Corwey wanna pway wiff blockies?”

Corey nodded quickly, adding another quiet “goo-goo ba ba…” while clumsily pushing a block toward the tower with both mittens.

Danielle picked up a red block and set it down next to his, trying to commit to the degrading act. “Ooooh, that’s a big tower! Look at you, little guy! You gonna build Jeffy a widdle house?”

She gestured at the yellow giraffe still clutched tightly in the crook of his arm. He gave a small, shy nod and let out another soft “guh-guh…bppptt…”

The longer it went on, the easier the babytalk came…even if she hated every second of it. At least she wasn’t the one fumbling blocks like a real tottler, mittens making every movement slow and clumsy, drool shining on his chin while his damp diaper crinkled beneath him.

“Yayyy!! Good job!” She ‘cheered,’ clapping her hands. “Dat’s a house you built! Look at jooo!!”

They continued the ridiculous charade for several more minutes. Danielle was just reaching for another block when Corey suddenly froze, his breath catching sharply in his throat for a long second. His mittened hands hovered awkwardly over the tower. Then, just as quickly, he resumed playing, though noticeably slower and more distracted.

Danielle’s eyes narrowed. She glanced between his spread legs. The front of his diaper was turning a deeper yellow, the padding visibly swelling and sagging heavier between his thighs as a fresh, warm wetness spread through it. A faint, muffled hiss could be heard from between his thighs, the heavy padding sagging lower with every second as it soaked up his piss.

The blue indicator line rose even higher. She was actually relieved to see it had passed the minimum 7 line. Almost to a 9. She never thought she would be happy to change a diaper. Anything to end this soul-crushing playtime where time stood still.

“Corey… did you go pee-pee?” she asked, the baby-talk still clinging to her voice.

Corey clutched Jeffy the giraffe tighter against his chest, as if the stuffed animal could somehow shield him from the fresh wave of embarrassment. His cheeks burned crimson, eyes fixed downward.

“Come on,” Danielle said, pushing herself up from the mat. “Let’s get your diaper changed.”

She laid out the changing mat on the padded floor with a resigned sigh, then retrieved the supply caddy. Gloves first. She snapped them on with sharp, clinical precision. Corey crawled over obediently, his soggy diaper hanging low and heavy between his legs.

Danielle untaped the diaper with quick, efficient pulls. Riiip. Riiip. Riiip. Riiip. The warm scent of fresh urine wafted up immediately. She folded the front down and froze.

He was hard. 

Not just a little stiff, fully erect, though the word felt almost generous. His cock was tiny. A pathetic, twitching two inches at most, dark pink and pointing straight up. It was the smallest penis Danielle had ever seen in her life…and she’d seen her fair share.

His cock pointed straight out, flushed and throbbing despite its pathetic size, the head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. Danielle stared for a moment, she’d ridden cocks of every shape and size back in her slutty phase. But this? This was laughably small. Almost cute in how inadequate it was. She’d changed several of his diapers already, but she’d been more focused on the disgusting messes than anything else. Now that she’d grown somewhat accustomed to it, his little thingy had her attention.

Corey’s face was a mask of pure shame, his eyes squeezed shut, bottom lip trembling around the pacifier. He knew she was looking. He knew exactly how ridiculous he looked.

Danielle narrowed her eyes, suspicion flaring. Jenna’s words echoed in her head. Some of them like it, you know.

She chose to ignore it for now. “Hold still,” she muttered, grabbing a handful of wipes. She started cleaning around his hips and thighs, avoiding the erection as best she could. The wet warmth of the used diaper clung to her gloved fingers. She wiped methodically, lifting his legs to clean the cracks and crevices.

A sharp buzzer cut through the room.

“Protocol reminder: All genital areas must be thoroughly cleaned during changes. Failure to comply will result in demerits.”

Danielle stared at the ceiling for a second, jaw clenched. Of course. The fucking freaks wanted her to touch it.

She looked back down at Corey. Their eyes met for a moment , his wide with humiliated dread, hers cold and reluctant. His tiny cock gave another helpless twitch under her gaze, another bead of pre-cum sliding down the short shaft.

Danielle exhaled through her nose.“Fine,” she said flatly, her voice laced with clear irritation. She paused for a moment, staring down at his pathetic, twitching erection with open disgust. “Do not move. Don’t make this any weirder than it already is.”

She took a fresh wipe and dragged the cool cloth slowly over his balls, cleaning the wrinkled skin with careful strokes. Corey whimpered softly, his thighs trembling as he fought to stay motionless under her touch.

Then she gave his tiny cock the first quick swipe, running the wipe downward from his pelvis and over his bits. The little shaft immediately sprang back up, harder and more desperate than before, bobbing in the air.

The second swipe had the same effect, but this time it didn’t settle. Instead, it started twitching violently on its own, pulsing in the cool air.

“Wait wait wait,” Corey gasped desperately, even though her hand had already pulled away. His voice cracked with panic.

But it was too late. His tiny cock convulsed hard, jerking upward in sharp, violent spasms. Thick ropes of cum spewed from the tip. One, two, three pitiful spurts shot pathetically across his own belly, landing in weak, sticky splatters. Another dribbled uselessly down the side of his shaft as his whole body shuddered and bucked on the changing mat with each pathetic pulse, mittened hands clutching Jeffy desperately as the orgasm rippled through him.

Danielle yanked her hand back, staring in appalled disbelief. “What the fuck, Corey?”

Corey looked like he wanted the floor to swallow him alive. Tears welled up instantly in his eyes as the last weak dribbles leaked from his softening little dick. “I’m sorry,” he choked out, voice thick with shame. “I couldn’t help it. I tried so hard to hold it back, I really did.”

“You came just from two swipes?” she exclaimed. “That’s genuinely pathetic.”

Corey turned his face away, sobbing quietly. “I know… I’m sorry. It just… it happens so easily now. They don’t let us touch ourselves here. Not ever. The mittens, the restraints, the constant supervision… it’s been weeks since I’ve been able to… you know. So when someone actually touches me, even just to clean…”

“Stop,” she cut him off coldly. “I don’t want to hear it. I don’t need to hear about your sad and frustrated little masturbation habits. Or…lack thereof. It’s not my problem.”

But the ‘problem’ was splayed out before her, covered in its own sticky mess.

“I can’t help it.” Corey continued to sob. “It’s just…you’re so pretty.”

That caught her off guard. Danielle hated that she felt a little flicker from the flattery, twisting in her chest despite herself. She hated that it affected her. Even in a pathetic sort of way. Not that he had a chance of anything happening. But the fact that this cum-covered man in a soggy diaper could make her feel anything other than contempt was…unnerving.

She said nothing, but her movements became slightly gentler.

The cum was slimy and stubborn. She used a fresh wipe to smear the messy load across his belly, gathering it up in slow, deliberate strokes. It took longer than she expected to clean the sticky residue completely. She was careful not to touch his penis again, half afraid the pathetic little thing might start spewing again at the slightest contact.

Finally satisfied, she slid a fresh diaper under his hips. The thick, clean padding felt almost merciful after the mess. She powdered him generously, then taped it snugly into place. The new diaper crinkled loudly as she adjusted it.

The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully. She fed him two more bottles without complaint, changed another heavy, wet diaper. (Thankfully, no messes today). She supervised tummy time, making sure he didn’t get too…wiggly. Managed his snacks, and bathed him without incident. It was nearing the end of her shift, and she just got him into his jammies. By the final hour of her shift, she realized she hadn’t heard that damn buzzer in quite a while.

“Up,” she said quietly. “Bed time.”

She helped him to the crib, lowering the rail and guiding him inside. Without even thinking, she gave his nighttime diaper a final tug, ensuring it was snug. She refastened the tapes for a better, tighter fit. She didn’t want him leaking overnight, then she buttoned back up the onesie between his legs. 

“Okay…pacifier is in…” she muttered to herself, “blankie…” she tucked it around him, “Jeffy…” she didn’t need to check that. The damn thing never left his hands. She also slid little wool booties over his feet in case he got cold. The blankie was too small to cover much of anything. She went to raise the rail, “Oh! Mobile…” she clicked it on, the little moons and stars rotated overhead, chiming out a lullaby. 

Corey watched her quietly inside the crib, then murmured softly around the pacifier. “You’re getting the hang of it…”

Danielle froze for a second, fingers still on the rail. She had gone through the entire bedtime routine on autopilot. None of those fucking buzzers, no micromanaging from Big Sister, no cursing under her breath. 

She hated how natural it was starting to feel.

“Shut up and sleep,” she said, but the usual sharpness was missing.

Corey gave a tiny, defeated nod and closed his eyes, clutching Jeffy tighter against his chest as the colorful mobile turned slowly overhead.

After raising the rail and locking the latch on the first try, she stood there for a long moment, looking down at the regressed man in the oversized crib. The doubt, the obligation, the strange new pull of possession, it all swirled inside her in a confusing knot she didn’t want to examine too closely.

She lingered by the crib a second longer, fingers tightening on the rail, before she finally turned away without another word.

The lullaby drifted softly overhead as Corey’s breathing slowly evened out, leaving Danielle alone with her thoughts and the lingering feelings of something far more complicated.

To Be Continued

"Babe, you were talking in your sleep again. Why do you keep saying 'I need a diaper, I need a diaper' over and over again? Were you having a weird dream?"

"It happened again. You were grabbing my arm and begging me to put a diaper on you. No, I didn't record it, I was half asleep! What is going on in that head of yours?"

"I'm starting to get concerned, babe. I know you said the idea of wearing a diaper repulses you, but it seems to be all you think about at night. Are you sure you're not repressing something? Do you think you should see a doctor?"

"Look, I believe you; it's just that I can't sleep with all your moaning about diapers. I'm just curious what would happen if you were actually wearing one at night. Maybe it would help?"

"I'm sorry, but I want you to try wearing one. Just for tonight. There seems to be some part of you that really needs this."

"You slept like a rock. No more sleep talking, and you were smiling every time I looked at you. Honestly, you seemed kind of blissful. And I slept better without all the begging in my ear! Would you wear another one tonight? For me?"

Just Stare at the Bear

The waiting room of the Adult Baby Wellness Clinic smelled like a mixture of talcum powder, antiseptic and crayons. The walls were covered in bright pastel colors and cheerful cartoon animals. Walter sat cross-legged on the padded tile floor, legs bowed out from the bulky diaper between them. At thirty-two years old, he never felt more out of place. Even though there were other adults in his exact position scattered around the room. 

One chubby man sat in an oversized stroller, eyes glazed and staring into some far-off world, drool steadily dripping down his chin and onto a soaked bib.  His diaper smelled so strongly that it filled the whole waiting area. 

Another man was dressed like a sissy gurl in a frilly pink tutu and matching pink diaper, chewing furiously on a teething ring. “Alice! That’s yucky! You don’t know where that’s been!” the woman with him scolded, snatching the ring away. She reached into her bag and pulled out a thick rubber dildo. “Here, if you want something in your mouth that bad, you can suck on this, but no teeth!”

Across from him, a man in a onesie was on all fours, shamelessly humping the tile with desperate little thrusts and grunts while his wife sat scrolling on her phone, barely paying attention.

Against the wall, a woman had her husband pulled into her lap, his face buried against her chest as she quietly breastfed him. He made soft suckling noises, completely lost in little space. 

Nearby, another man was throwing a full tantrum on the floor during a diaper change. His legs kicked wildly as his wife tried to wipe him. “Not here! Not here!! Everyone can see!” he wailed. She calmly popped a large pacifier into his mouth mid-scream, instantly quieting him down to muffled whimpers.

A few feet away, a woman in her mid-thirties looked her husband sternly in the eye. “No. You will not be using the potty. If you need to go poo-poo, you can do it right there in your diaper. That’s why you're wearing one.” The man whimpered and danced back and forth in place, but soon squatted down with a defeated look and began filling his diaper.

"Charlie! No! Put that down right now!" A woman snapped, she was gritting her teeth at a man holding a toy under his tutu. A vibrating buzzing noise coming from it as he pressed it against his pissy pamper. The loud buzzing filled the air as he bit his lip hard, hips twitching. His wife leaned forward in her chair, eyes narrowing. The woman leaned forward in her chair, and started counting firmly: 

“One…”

He hesitated, breathing faster, pressing the toy harder against the soggy padding.

“Two…”

His legs started to shake. A soft, needy whimper escaped him as he tried to chase the sensation.

“Three.”

In one swift motion she snatched the toy from his hands and smacked his wrists sharply.

"When I tell you 'no', that means no!" She scoled, pointing a finger in his face. "Did you cum your diaper?" She lifted his skirt, slipped a finger into the front waistband of his diaper, and peeked inside. With a heavy sigh she said, “You did… you little fucking loser...” She yanked him by the arm into an empty corner, forcing him roughly onto his knees with his nose against the wall. “Timeout for you, mister. Someone’s in BIG trouble when we get home!”

Walter quickly looked away and focused on the wooden activity toy in front of him: colorful blocks that slid along squiggly wires. He pushed a blue block back and forth with one finger, the soft clack-clack sounds helping him ignore the other AB's and the nervous flutter in his stomach. His wife Emily sat right beside him in a chair with her legs crossed, calmly flipping through a magazine filled with pictures of smiling padded adults in various stages of regression. She was circling rompers and onesies she wanted to buy him. Every so often she reached over and rubbed slow, soothing circles on his back.

"You're going to do great today, sweetie," she whispered softly. "Just like last time. Mommy's right here with you!"

Before Walter could respond, the door to the exam area opened and a bright, cheerful voice called out, "Walter? We're ready for you!"

A nurse in pink scrubs stood smiling in the doorway. Her name tag read Sarah. Walter stood up, feeling the heavy bulk of his diaper droop between his legs as he followed her down the hallway. Emily trailed behind, carrying the small diaper bag packed with spares, wipes, and a fresh bottle just in case.

“Ohhh, look at our big boy all ready for his special appointment!” Sarah chirped happily. “Such a brave little one coming in for his adult-baby check-up!”

They didn’t even make it all the way to the exam room before they stopped at the scale in the open hallway. Receptionists chatted away on phones and filed forms just a few feet away. 

“Alright, honey,” Sarah said in her bright sing-song voice. “First things first. Shoes and pants off for weigh-in, okay? We need to get your accurate weight in just your special padding.”

Walter’s cheeks burned as he kicked off his shoes. His fingers were so nervous and numb that he fumbled with the button on his shorts for a long moment. Emily watched in amusement. “Would you like some help, baby?” The nurse asked kindly. She didn't wait for an answer, just stepped in and easily unbuttoned his shorts, then pushed them down his legs, revealing the thick, crinkly adult diaper covered in cartoon animals that matched the decor on the walls. Walter flushed deeply, feeling horribly exposed in front of all the women in the office, but they hardly paid him any mind, as if it weren't anything they'd already seen dozens of times today alone.

“Go ahead and step on the scale for me, big guy!”

Walter stood there in nothing but his socks, t-shirt, and the obvious bulky diaper, feeling completely exposed as Sarah slid the weights along the balance beam and made a note on her clipboard. 

Down the hallway he could hear the faint sounds of grown men crying softly and pleading in desperate voices. One cracked with panic: “No… not that! Please!!” while a woman replied in sugary baby talk, “Shhh, it’s okay, baby. Mommy and the doctor know what’s best for you.”

"206 pounds!" Sarah exclaimed, snapping Walter back to attention. "Somewon's putting on little baby-weight...but before you get off, I’m gonna need to check your diaper, okay?"

Sarah didn't hesitate. She reached right between Walter's legs and squeezed his crotch firmly with no regard for how it made him squirm. Her fingers pressed deeply into the soggy padding, feeling the warm, swollen front.

“Ohhh, goodness!” she exclaimed in an exaggerated baby voice. “Somewone’s verwy soggy down there!” She gave it another firm squeeze, then hefted the heavy, sodden padding with her palm, lifting it to check the weight before letting it plop back down heavily. She made another note on her clipboard. “I’d say that’s at least an extra two or three pounds you’re carrying around there! Someone’s been using it like a proper widdle baybee all morning!”

Walter's cheeks were burning the entire time that she moved him in front of the cartoon giraffe on the wall to check his height.

Finally, they headed into the privacy of the exam room.

“Well hello there, little one!” said another nurse already waiting inside. She wore black scrubs and her name tag read Mia. “Goodness! Someone’s bringing in quite the droopy diaper!” Mia giggled. “Can you be a good little climber and get on the table for us?”

It rustled loudly under his hands and knees as he clambered up. The paper and his pamper rustled and squished noisily with every movement as he plopped down on top, swinging his legs nervously. Walter whimpered softly and shifted on the padded surface, but the nurses just smiled and patted him reassuringly.

They slid the blood pressure cuff around his arm and took a reading while Sarah picked up a large baby bottle filled with a thick purplish liquid. “Time for your special medicine while we wait for the doctor, cutie. Can you open for me?”

Walter shook his head and let out a soft whine, pressing his lips together. Mia gently but firmly held his chin. "Awww, I know it's yucky, but it's gonna help you grow weak and dependent! That's what good baybees need, isn't it? Just relax and let the grown-ups take care of everything..."

They tipped the bottle to his mouth. Walter whimpered and whined the whole time as he was forced to suck down the bitter medicine overloaded with the awful grape flavor. His eyes watered from the awful taste and the humiliating way they held the bottle for him like he couldn’t do it himself. He made little protesting noises between swallows, but Sarah and Mia kept encouraging him in soft, sweet voices.

"That's it, sweetie… big suckles for us… you're doing so well… almost done…"

When the bottle was finally empty, Sarah patted his back firmly in steady rhythms. Walter let out a loud, embarrassing burp that echoed in the small room. Both nurses giggled and praised him.

"Good boy! Let's get all those bubbles out so your tummy feels nice and settled," Sarah said, rubbing slow circles over his belly. 

There was a tap at the door. In walked a beautiful, confident woman that was still in her late 30's. Dr. Reyes wore a white coat over blue scrubs and smiled warmly at Walter and then at Emily, who had settled quietly into the corner chair to watch the entire check-up.

"Hello, sweetheart. How's our favorite little patient doing today?" Dr. Reyes asked as she washed her hands at the sink. "Ready for your wellness visit?"

Walter nodded shyly, still tasting the nasty medicine on his tongue.

She started with the basics. "Okay, sweetie. Can you open wide and say 'ahhh' for me?"

Walter opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue. Dr. Reyes pressed the wooden tongue depressor down gently and peered inside with her light as Walter made a pathetic little babbly sound. She frowned just a little.

"Hmm… your throat's a little bruised." She observed, not sounding all that concerned. "That tends to happen after oral sex. Have you been being a nice cucky boi for your mommy lately?" She glanced over at Emily with a knowing little smile. 

Emily giggled softly from her chair and nodded. "Let's just say he sucks on more than just bottles and pacifiers at home."

The women all laughed.

Walter's face turned bright red.

She used her otoscope to check his ears. “Hmm, ears look good. Has he been listening, Mama?” 

Emily shrugged. “For the most part.” The doctor smiled. “Nothing a little spanking can’t fix.” All three women giggled and nodded.

Dr. Reyes continued smoothly. "Now let's check those reflexes." She tapped his knee with the small rubber hammer. His leg kicked, but it was slower and much softer than normal. She nodded approvingly. "Excellent. Your reflexes are nicely subdued. That means the special regression formula you've been on is working perfectly. Your body is learning to stay soft and small in little space."

She made a quick note on her chart. "Now tell me, honey. How many poopy diapers are you making in a day?"

Walter looked down at his lap, utterly embarrassed at having to discuss his bowel movements that he had to make all over himself. 'Uh...umm...Two… usually.

Dr. Reyes tilted her head with a gentle but firm expression. "Only two? We need you doing at least three from now on, sweetie." She made a note on her clipboard. "I'm gonna switch you to an even stronger fiber blend today. We want those diapers getting nice and full the natural way, without any holding back."

Walter hung his head. “Oh lovely…” Emily scoffed sarcastically, knowing she would be the one changing him. The nurses giggled. “Sorry Mama, it’s for his own good.” Emily nodded, accepting it.

Dr. Reyes put on her stethoscope and slid it under Walter’s shirt. “Deep breaths, baby.” After listening to his lungs and heart, she asked, “Can you lift your shirt for me, dear?”

Walter obeyed. The doctor gently pinched, squeezed, poked, and prodded at his chest. He winced when her fingers reached his nipples.

Dr. Reyes cooed. “Oh my! These nipples are quite sensitive now. And look! Your breasts are starting to develop nicely with the hormones in your formula. You’re on your way to being a baby girl soon, aren’t you? How precious that will be! A widdle sissy baybee gurl! Isn’t that exciting?”

Walter’s stomach twisted with fresh humiliation.

“Alright,” Dr. Reyes said, setting her clipboard aside. “We’re going to do some checks on your bottom now.”

Walter’s heart immediately started racing. His breathing picked up. The words “bottom checks” always meant the most embarrassing parts.

“Can you be a good boy for me and get on your hands and knees like you do when you crawl at home?” Dr. Reyes asked calmly.

Walter hesitated, panic beginning to set in. He slowly turned around on the crinkly paper and got onto all fours, his padded bottom pointing toward the doctor and nurses. The position left him feeling incredibly small and exposed. Emily watched quietly from her chair with a soft, supportive smile.

Mia stepped behind him and hooked her fingers into the back waistband of his soggy diaper. The tapes ripped open with loud velcro sounds.

Walter’s panic spiked. “W-wait…” he whimpered, voice trembling.

Sarah saw it right away. She quickly crossed the room, reached into a cabinet, and pulled out the large plush teddy bear with big button eyes and a stitched-on smile. She held it up and wiggled it gently in front of Walter’s face.

“Okay, sweetie,” Sarah said in her sweetest syrupy sing-song voice. “I know you’re scared, but just look at the bear. That’s all you have to do. Stare right at Mr. Bear and let the grown-ups take care of everything else. Can you do that for us?”

Walter locked his eyes onto the teddy bear’s friendly face, breathing shakily. The soft fabric and kind stitched smile gave him something safe to focus on while Mia tugged the padded rear of his diaper down and laid the whole wet thing flat beneath him like a changing mat. His small steel chastity cage dangled helplessly between his legs, already leaking from the overwhelming embarrassment.

“Ohhh, look how swollen those little testicles are!!” Mia cooed, cupping the purple plums gently from below and giving them a light squeeze. “Someone’s been getting all excited in his diapee, hasn’t he? Poor widdle baybee balls! So full and achy!”

Dr. Reyes stepped closer, holding up a small stainless-steel tray that caught the harsh overhead light. On it lay three menacing syringes beside their matching glass vials. Next to them sat a large bottle of thick, glistening lubricant, ready for what was coming.

“We’re going to give you a couple of special shots today, baby. They’re going to help keep you feeling extra small and fuzzy-headed."

Walter’s eyes widened at the sight of the needles. He always hated shots. He hated them even more after the effects of the ones from his last visits. His breathing turned into quick, anxious pants. “N-no… please…” he whimpered, starting to squirm on all fours, but both the nurses steadied him.

Dr. Reyes turned to the tray and picked up the first vial. Right in Walter’s line of sight, she pushed the needle in and slowly drew the pastel blue liquid into the syringe, tapping the barrel gently to clear the bubbles as a bead of cyan dribbled from the top. “This first one is your regressor shot." She explained. "It’s going to push you deeper into little space and make your silly adult thoughts go nice and quiet.”

Walter continued to panic. Sarah quickly popped a pacifier into his mouth to soothe him. Walter whimpered as Mia prepped an area on his thigh by swabbing a cold alcohol wipe across it. Dr. Reyes aimed the shot right for it.

Sarah immediately wiggled the teddy bear more insistently in front of his face. “Eyes on Mr. Bear, honey. Don’t look back. Just watch the nice teddy.”

Walter’s nose whistled softly around the pacifier as he breathed rapidly through it.

The needle pricked his skin. Walter yelped sharply around the binky and tensed hard, his body jerking while Sarah kept the bear dancing gently in front of him.

"Shhh!" she cooed, "You can do it! Just stare at the bear..."

The baby-blue liquid pushed into his muscle with a slow, burning pressure. Almost immediately a heavy, warm fog began washing over him. His thoughts started to soften and blur around the edges, like someone was gently turning down the volume on his adult brain. A dreamy, floaty feeling settled into his head, making everything feel slower and smaller. His arms and legs already felt a little less steady.

Once the first shot was finished, Dr. Reyes picked up the second vial. As she drew the bright pink fluid into the barrel, she continued in the same calm voice. “This second one is your hormone shot. It’s going to keep helping your little boobies grow and make your nipples even more sensitive, turning you into a proper widdle baybee gurl.”

Walter’s stomach twisted as he watched the pink liquid swirl. Dr. Reyes tapped the syringe and moved to his other thigh.

The needle slid in. Walter whined loudly, fresh tears pricking at his eyes as the burning medicine spread through his leg. The hormone shot felt warmer than the first, sinking deep into his muscle.

Finally, Dr. Reyes reached for the last vial. She drew the yellow liquid into the third syringe with slow, deliberate pulls, letting Walter see every bit of it fill the barrel. “And this third one is your muscle relaxant and potty signal reducer. It’s going to make your body nice and weak, and it will turn off those silly big-boy signals that tell you when you need to use the potty. From now on you’ll just go whenever your body wants to, right into your diaper like a real baby.”

Walter shook his head frantically. “Nooo… please…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sarah cooed, bouncing the bear playfully. “Almost done! Just keep staring at Mr. Bear. Look at his happy smile!”

Dr. Reyes swabbed the meat of his right bottom cheek with another cold wipe, making him flinch. “Here we go, baby. Big deep breath in…”

The third needle slid deep into his buttcheek. Walter cried out sharply and jerked forward, but the nurses held him firmly in place. The burning yellow liquid pushed inside him, flooding his body with a heavy, tingling warmth that made his muscles feel instantly loose and weak. His head grew fuzzier, like thick cotton was pressing behind his eyes, and a strange, helpless calm began to settle over him.

"All done!"

"Such a good boy!"

"You were so brave!!"

But it wasn't over. 

Walter’s head was so hazy he barely registered their words. The world felt slow and dreamy. Before he could catch his breath, he felt something skinny and cold press against his hole and slide deep into his rectum. He let out a soft, startled whimper.

“Such a good boy holding still while we take your tempie!” Mia said sweetly, her voice sounding far away and echoey.

The thermometer stayed inside him for what felt like a long, endless time. The nurses kept praising him in soft, syrupy voices, but Walter could only stare at Mr. Bear. The teddy bear’s stitched face seemed to morph and shift gently, the button eyes twinkling as a weird, floaty sense of euphoria washed over him. Everything felt warm, blurry, and strangely pleasant.

When the thermometer finally came out, Dr. Reyes was putting on fresh gloves and pulling out a bottle of lubricant. She smiled down at him kindly.

“Okay, Wally! Here comes the ‘fun’ part!" She said, "I’m going to perform a little procedure called 'milking the prostate'. It will help us get a good semen sample and make sure everything down there is responding properly to your regression meds.”

Walter could only stare blankly, his mind still too foggy and floaty from the shots to fully process her words. A bit of drool trailed down his chin.

She paused, studying his glazed expression for a moment, then smiled gently. “Aww, you’re too little to understand big words right now, aren’t you? It means I’m gonna have to put my fingers in your bum-bum, sweetie. Right up in your bottom so I can rub your special spot and help you make cum-cums.”

Mia gripped Walter’s butt cheeks and pulled them apart firmly, spreading him wide open so his poor little puckered hole was on full display, ready and waiting. That snapped Walter from his reverie. He whimpered loudly at the exposure, his face burning with shame.

“Just look at the bear,” Sarah reminded him again, holding Mr. Bear only inches from his face and bouncing it gently. “Stare at Mr. Bear while we help you make your special milky. Can you do that for us?”

Dr. Reyes applied a generous amount of cool lubricant to her gloved fingers and pressed one slick digit against his tight entrance. “Relax for me, baby. Big deep breaths. You’re being such a good boy.”

She pushed slowly inside with one finger. Walter gasped as it slid deeper, the intrusion feeling strangely amplified by the muscle relaxant still flooding his system. The single finger curled gently, exploring, until it brushed lightly over his prostate. He jolted hard, a helpless little moan slipping out.

“Ohhh, there it is!!” Dr. Reyes murmured approvingly. “Such a responsive little prostate already. You’re doing so good, baby. Just keep staring at the bear.”

She spent a long moment working him with just that one finger. Slow, gentle strokes and soft circles that made his locked cock twitch and leak clear sticky strings steadily onto the open diaper beneath him. The sensations were deep and intense, building a warm, insistent pressure that made his thighs tremble.

After a minute, she added a second finger, stretching him open a little more. Walter whimpered at the fuller feeling, his breathing coming in short, desperate pants. Dr. Reyes scissored her fingers gently at first, then curled both of them directly against his swollen prostate.

“Can you make milkies for us? Hmm?” she asked in that calm, professional voice while her fingers continued their relentless massage. “Can our sweet boy make some goo-goos? I can feel how full you are down here.”

Sarah bounced the bear playfully right in front of his nose. “Come on, sweetie. Be a good boy and push out all that yucky big-boy stuff. Mr. Bear wants to see you make your special milkies. That’s it… just stare at the nice teddy and let it allllll come out!”

Walter’s whole body trembled. The steady, firm rubbing against his prostate sent wave after wave of unwanted pleasure rolling through him. His caged nub pulsed and leaked more with every deliberate stroke. He tried desperately to stay focused on the teddy bear’s stitched smile, but the intense, building pressure made it harder and harder to think straight.

Dr. Reyes increased the pressure, rubbing faster and more deliberately now with both fingers. “There we go… feel that? Such a good little prostate. It’s getting so nice and swollen for us. You’re going to give us lots of milkies today, aren’t you?”

The sensations grew stronger and deeper. Each pass of her fingers sent sparks shooting up his spine. Walter’s hips started twitching involuntarily, soft, broken whimpers escaping him as the pressure coiled tighter and tighter inside.

With a broken, helpless cry, Walter finally started to cum. Thick, pulsing spurts of semen dribbled and shot from his tiny locked cock onto the soggy diaper liner. Dr. Reyes kept milking him through every wave, squeezing out every last drop while the nurses clapped and giggled.

“Oh my goodness, look at all that goo-goo!” Sarah squealed. “He’s making such a big mess for us!”

When the final weak spurt tapered off, leaving Walter panting and shaking, Dr. Reyes gently withdrew her fingers.

She glanced over at Emily with a curious smile. “Mama, how long has it been since he last came?”

Emily shrugged casually. “I honestly can’t remember. At least a few weeks? I don’t even know how long it’s been since he got to do it uncaged.”

The nurses both let out amused giggles at that.

Mia carefully lifted the wet, cummy diaper and slid it away from under him. “We’ll send this off for your full urine and semen sample,” she said brightly, holding up the messy padding.

Dr. Reyes leaned in and inspected the metal chastity cage still locked around his shrunken, spent nub. She tilted her head with a little hum. “Hmm… he seems to have quite a bit of space in there." She murmured, "Girls? I think it’s time for a smaller cage...”

Walter let out a pathetic whimper at her words. His head was still hazy, but he understood enough.

"Okay, Wally!" The nurses chimed, "Can you make flippies for us and get on your backy?"

The nurses helped him turn over onto his back on the crinkly paper. His legs felt like jelly from the shots and the intense milking.

“Emily, may we have the key to his cage?” Mia asked politely. Emily smiled as she removed the keychain from around her neck and handed it over without hesitation.

“We need to get a few measurements, okay?” Mia said sweetly as she unclasped the lock on the device. “Can you make it nice and big for us, baby? Try to get nice and hard so we can see how much room we really need...”

Walter’s poor little penis was completely shrunken and hiding, glistening with the sticky remnants of his milking. It looked so tiny and pathetic, barely more than a soft, slick little button tucked away between his legs.

Mia leaned in closer with a pitying smile and began gently rubbing the sensitive head with her fingertip, treating it like a delicate little clit. “Aww, look at the poor thing… all shy and hiding! It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll help you wake it up...”

She gently rubbed the sensitive, cum-slick head with her fingertip, treating it like a delicate little clit. Slow, teasing circles, barely any pressure at all. “Ohh, bless your heart! Come on out, little guy… don’t be embarrassed. The nice nurses just want to see how big you can get. You can do it for us, can’t you?”

The tiny nub twitched under her touch. Slowly, reluctantly, it began to poke out a little further, swelling just enough to peek out from its hiding spot.

"Awww!! There he is!" Sarah giggled, "Widdle guy was playing peek-a-boo!!"

Now that there was enough to 'grab'. Sarah wrapped two fingers gently around the short little shaft, holding it delicately while Mia continued rubbing the head. “Don’t worry, we’ve seen plenty of pee-pees just as itty-bitty as yours.”

She might have meant that to be consoling. It wasn't.

“Yeah… if you were bigger you wouldn’t be in diapers now, would you?” Mia added with a pitying little smile, still rubbing the glistening head like a tiny clit.

Sarah giggled softly, her voice full of fake encouragement. “Aww, such a determined little guy! Keep going, sweetie! Show us your biggest. Rub rub rub on that tiny little clit. You can do it.”

But even at its hardest, it remained tiny and cute. The nurses exchanged amused glances.

“Ohp! I guess that’s it…” Sarah laughed softly, giving the sensitive, straining head a little tap with her fingertip. 

They pulled out a small measuring tape and held it right up against his throbbing, twitching, desperate little nub, both nurses giggling as they took the measurement.

“Barely even two inches!” Mia announced with a delighted laugh. “Oh, this is definitely too much room for such a tiny little thing! But don't worry, wittle guy! It's still cute as a button!! We’ll go ahead and put you in the smallest cage we have. That way your widdle pee-pee won't have to worry about growing at all. It can say nice and tiny like always!”

Walter whimpered and whined loudly as they brought out the much smaller, tighter chastity cage. The flat metal device looked impossibly small. They worked together to cram his sensitive little nub inside. Sarah worked his deflated balls through the base while Mia pushed the head through the tight ring, squeezing and stuffing the soft flesh until it was forced into the tiny tube. The metalpinched and squeezed him mercilessly, trapping him even more tightly than before.

Walter squirmed and protested with soft, desperate cries. “It’s too tight… please…” he whined, tears of humiliation in his eyes.

“Aww, but it looks so perfect on you!!” Sarah cooed, clicking the lock shut with a final, decisive snap. “Now your little baybee penis has no room to grow at all. Isn’t that better? No more big-boy thoughts down there.”

Walter immediately started squirming harder, his hips twitching as he whined pitifully. “It’s too tight… please, it’s squeezing me…” Tears of humiliation welled in his eyes as he tried to reach down toward the cruelly small cage with shaky hands.

Sarah gently caught his wrists before he could touch it. “No touching, sweetie. It’s supposed to be tight.”

His adult dignity seemed to have evaporated ever since the shot.  Instead, he could barely put together any thoughts other than whines and fusses. He kept fussing, letting out soft, frustrated cries and kicking his legs weakly against the crinkly paper. “I don’t like it… it’s too small…”

Dr. Reyes leaned back and finished scribbling a few notes on her clipboard. “He seems a little cranky,” she observed with a knowing smile. “Probably backed up from all that formula. Nurses, will you give him two suppositories before you diaper him back up?” She paused after a few steps, then added, “Actually… better make it three.”

With that, Dr. Reyes gave Emily a warm smile. “Thank you for bringing him in today, Emily. You’re doing such a wonderful job with him. We’ll see you both back in a few weeks for his follow-up.” She gave Walter one last affectionate pat on the head before she slipped out of the exam room, leaving Walter alone with the two nurses and his wife.

“Aww, three special suppositories for our cranky little boy,” Mia sang sweetly. “That should help get those poopy diapers moving nice and regularly.”

Sarah picked up the large plush teddy bear and gently placed it into Walter’s arms. “Here, sweetie. You can hold onto Mr. Bear while we finish up. He’ll keep you company.”

Walter clutched the soft teddy tightly to his chest, his face half-buried in its fur as fresh whimpers escaped him. His thoughts felt thick and slow, like wading through warm syrup, and his arms and legs had grown strangely heavy and uncoordinated.

“Okay, Wally, time to get those legs up,” Mia said cheerfully. The nurses each took one of his ankles and lifted his legs high toward his chest, folding him neatly like a big baby getting changed. The position left him completely exposed again, the new smaller cage sitting snug and tiny between his legs.

Sarah lubed up the first suppository while Mia held his legs steady. “Alright, baby. Can you count for us? Here comes number one…”

Walter felt the cool, slippery tip press against his hole. “O-one…” he whimpered as Sarah pushed it slowly but firmly deep inside him. Even his voice sounded smaller and more babyish to his own ears.

“Good boy!” both nurses praised in unison.

Sarah quickly prepared the second one. “Number two coming up…” she said, spreading his cheeks with her fingers.

“Two…” Walter whined, his voice muffled against Mr. Bear as the second suppository slid in beside the first.

Mia was already unfolding a fresh, extra-thick diaper beneath him. “Last one, sweetie. Make it a big loud three for us.”

“Th-three…” he moaned pathetically as the third suppository was pushed deep into his bum-bum. The nurses cooed and giggled at how full his voice sounded on the final count.

“There we go! All three special helpers are in!” Sarah said brightly, giving his bottom a gentle pat once his legs were lowered. They powdered him generously, rubbing the sweet talcum into every crease, before taping the thick new diaper up nice and snug around his waist.

“All done with the diapee!” Mia announced with a happy clap. They slipped him into some plastic panties, just in case he had a blowout later.

Walter clutched Mr. Bear tightly the whole time, still whimpering softly as the suppositories began to warm and work inside him.

“There we go, all nice and snug!” Mia said, smoothing her hands over the onesie. “All done, baby! You were such a good patient today. You ready to go?”

Walter’s legs were completely wobbly from the medicine now working through his system. The nurses had to help him off the exam table, each one supporting an arm as they guided him slowly out of the room and back toward the front desk. His steps were short and unsteady, like a tottler just learning to walk.

The woman behind the reception desk looked up with a bright smile. “How did it go today?”

“Oh, he was an absolute angel!” Sarah announced proudly. “He took all his shots, made lots of milkies for us, and even handled three suppositories without too much fuss. Such a good boy!”

The receptionist clapped her hands. “Well done, sweetie!” She reached into a jar on the counter and pulled out a big cherry lollipop. “Here you go! A special treat for being so well behaved!”

Walter took the lollipop with shaky fingers and popped it into his mouth. The cherry flavor was strong, and almost immediately his tongue started to feel numb and tingly. He knew he’d be drooling all over himself by the time they got home.

Emily took his hand, thanking the nurses warmly before guiding him toward the exit. Walter’s legs felt like rubber. He leaned heavily on her as they walked out to the car, each step slow and wobbly. She helped him into the backseat and carefully strapped him into the oversized carseat, clicking the harness snugly over his shirt and bulky diaper.  He could already feel the three suppositories beginning to warm and work deep inside his tummy.

“You did so well today, baby,” Emily said softly, brushing a strand of hair away and kissing him lightly on the forehead.  “Mommy’s so proud of her little boy! I think someone deserves an extra big reward tonight! How about an extra Bluey episode and…the applesauce you love so much??”

Walter could only nod, his head heavy and fuzzy from the shots. It wasn't much of a reward at all.

He remembered when “rewards” used to mean something more. When she would press her vibrator against the front of his diaper and let him hump desperately until he made sticky messes inside the padding. Those days were slipping away fast, just like the rest of his old life. His job, his independence, his dignity...everything was fading into a soft, padded haze. Now the best he could hope for was extra cartoons and a jar of sweetened applesauce spoon-fed like a helpless baybee.

He stared down at Mr. Bear resting in his lap, the same friendly stitched smile that had helped him through the whole humiliating appointment. He sucked numbly on the cherry lollipop as drool began to drip down his chin. He was nothing more than a padded tottler now, completely dependent on the women around him. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

All he could do… was stare at the bear.

The End.