Are We There Yet?

(story was inspired by an image by BuckarooBlaster on deviantart used with permission. The system won’t let me post it as it is too big, so it is linked here Are We There Yet? by BuckarooBlaster on DeviantArt)

“Are we there yet?”

“We’ve barely left yet, and we still need to pick up your big sister,” the large, graying middle age man in the front seat replied without taking his eyes off the road.

“She’s not my sister!”

“Well she is now, Erica.” this time he glanced into the mirror to see her, and spoke with an edge of warning in his voice.

“And she’s not my “big” sister,” Erica muttered.

“Hey!” he growled. “That’s enough whining. Settle down and watch your cartoons or I’ll pull over and spank your bottom!”

The woman sitting beside him, herself a bit older but with her hair still blond, turned back and pointed a finger at her. “You know your new position now. Complaining won’t change it. We’ve given all you should need to be happy, you have your cartoons and your stuffy if your bored and that paci should keep you from complaining. We shouldn’t hear a peep out of you until we get there. Accept your new place or we’ll give you something to whine about.”

Erica sighed and rested her head on her hand. The cartoon flickered in front of her, but she was bored of it already. It didn’t have any real plot she could see, just flickering lights and cutesy animals. She turned to look out the window, hearing her diaper crinkle as she shifted positions. The car seat she sat in, though comfortable, came with tight straps didn’t allow for much movement, making any shift an effort. Trees ran by the car at top speed, and she imagined a figure running over their tops, jumping from branch to branch.

As it was, her “position” didn’t give her much other options. From their perspective, those cartoons were a perfect match for her- as was the diaper she was wearing, the stuffed cat in her arms, the pacifier in her mouth, and the baby bottle and diaper bag packed on either side of her car seat. The fact that her diaper was both printed and plainly visible under her yellow t shirt drove the point home. In this country, there was no point in even trying to hide her status. A skirt, shorts, or even a onesie might have implied- god forbid- that there was a reason to hide her underwear while out in public.

She remembered how excited she had been when the laws changed. It had only been about a year (she wasn’t certain as no one bothered to tell her times or dates) but felt like a life time ago.

She had a ‘normal’ life before, at least from the outside. She went to university, worked her way though and even got a job. Anyone who knew her would think she was a perfectly functioning adult, if a bit secretive. However, it was just a show. Each night when she got home to her apartment, she’d live her ‘other’ life, the one she kept hidden in a plastic box at the back of her closet. She remembered the thrill of taking out her hidden diapers, the onesies she had bought online, and her stuffed animals. She’d tape her diapers on, snuggle her stuffed rabbit, and feel another day’s worth of anxiety fade out of her stomach. She’d turn on the television to the cartoon station, then open her laptop log onto the few online sites where she could act the way she really wanted, and read the adoring, childish messages that made her feel warm inside. For years, it was the only time she felt safe, and she dreamed of one day being able to live it all for real, not having to hide it.

Then, the opportunity arose. News came of legal changes in a small European state. They began creating different types of identification, built from research into fetishists and kinks. It was more then just claiming to be interested, there were detailed personality tests which showed long term compatibility with different roles, and those who were found fitting would have “submissive”, or “pet”, or “sissy,” added to their ID’s and matched with their dominants, creating an entirely new legal classes. There was online debate as to what it would mean and why- was this actual science? Was it some confused attempt at progressiveness and accepting alternative lifestyles, or perhaps a marketing gimmick for tourists to come gawk and at people in their new roles? (since then she had encountered many of that last group) She hadn’t cared, instead, she remembered eagerly pouring over the lists until she found it- “Adult Baby.” Clicking links lead to success stories. Most of the actual information was in a language she didn’t understand, but the photos of people dressed in onesies and diapers, living as legally declared “Adult babies”, was more then enough for her.

She remembered breathlessly looking at the requirements while at work. It was all She laughed, telling herself if they were fair the box hidden in her closet and the years of online search history should qualify her. However, she wanted to make sure. She found lists of how to ‘cheat’ the test. After some searching, someone in broken English gave an answer key he promised would lead to the right identification, along with a warning she couldn’t read. She downloaded it and spent the rest of her day committing it to memory and booking plane tickets, her heart swelling with excitement. This was her chance, she thought, she’d finally live her dream!

Now, her she was, wearing just a diaper and a t-shirt, sucking a pacifier, and strapped into an oversized car seat, completely at the whim of the “mommy” and “daddy” who saw her only as a baby who had become literally to big for her britches, and as a society that both accepted her as such and legally enforced it. In a way, it was all she had wanted. However, in another it was everything she didn’t, as there was one aspect she had not considered.

Her thought was interrupted as the car stopped. She looked out the other window to see the gigantic letters she recognized as marking a university in a language which, fittingly, she couldn’t read. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

The door opened, and in bounced a bubbly, blond haired and blue eyed girl. “Girl,” Erica thought, barely out of her teens. Erica had graduated long ago and had moved onto a job, and was both older and by rights more accomplished, but in this society her ‘sister’ was the only adult in the back seat.

“Hi mom and dad!” she said.

“Hi dear! How was class?” her mother replied.

“Oh you know, same old same old. Glad to be on vacation.” She then turned to Erica. “Hi baby sis!” she said, and pecked Erica on the cheek. “Have you been a good girl today?”

“Actually, she’s been grumpy the entire ride,” “Daddy” replied.

“Oh, that’s too bad. You know my psychology proof said it sometimes takes time for them to adjust to their new positions. They’ve been fed misinformation their entire lives telling them they are something they aren’t, and its hard to undo that.” She patted Erica’s leg. “It’s ok baby sis, you’ll get there.”

“Oh, Samantha,” Erica’s “Daddy” said to her “big sister” “before we start driving would you mind checking Erica’s diaper? Its a long way and I don’t want to be stuck driving for hours smelling her again before we can change her.”

Erica shuddered. She remembered the time he was talking about. It was shortly after she had been adopted and was still overwhelmed with excitement. The idea of having to use her diapers in different situations thrilled her, and she had messed herself while they were driving on the highway, knowing it would be passed off as an accident. It had been a hot day, and it was an hour before the next rest stop.

“It doesn’t smell like it from here,” Samantha replied.
“Yes but sometimes you don’t notice at first. Just check.”
Samantha grumbled.
“Its just… I won’t have to change her this time, will I?” she made a disgusted face. “I changed her last time, and normally when you ask me to check her its a lead in to change me.”
“You didn’t change her last time! I did!” “Mommy” replied.
“Well, its not my turn! I just don’t like changing her out in these parking lots because I have to carry her gross diapers to the garbage can, and I just had my nails done!”
“Then change her in the school bathroom.”
“I don’t want to take her all smelly through the halls! Its crowded in there and people will notice!” She made another face. “Plus I just had lunch and I’d feel sick.”

“Would you rather change her after she’s been sitting in it an hour?”


“Mommy” turned toward her. “You agreed to help take care of the baby this vacation, remember? That was part of the deal. That means taking care of her diapers.”
Samantha rolled her eyes, then turned a smile toward Erica. “Ok baby! Time to check your pampies!”
Now Erica looked down at the girl beside her who patted the front of her diaper, ensuring the same thing wouldn’t happen. Erica could have told them it was clean, but to them her word meant nothing on the matter.

“ALl dry! Good baby!” she said. “Now lean over so I can check you for stinkies.”

Erica glared at her.

“Now now, I don’t want to have to spank you!” she said.

Erica gave her an annoyed glance, then quickly hid it. There was no point in arguing. It was a valid threat. In this country she was well within her rights to spank Erica. The law acknowledge that strict punishment might be needed to control people in their new positions, and that despite her role her adult body could handle the pain. It was a threat she would once have been thrilled to hear, and she had deliberately tried to receive when she first arrived. That, however, was before she learned of the one thing she missed. She leaned forward and to the side as far as the straps of her car seat would allow.

“There’s a good baby,” her “big sister” spoke in a tone that was supposed to sound loving but was horribly condescending, especially coming from someone years younger then she was. Erica felt a hand reach down her back and open her diaper, then pat it before announcing what she already knew. “All clean! Well done baby girl!”

Erica forced a smile, pretending to love the condescending compliment.
The car began moving toward a location Erica didn’t know. They generally didn’t bother telling her where they were going. They began a conversation on politics which which she was not invited to share in. Despite having majored in it years ago, any addition she had would be replied with “Shh now, the grown ups are talking,” followed by a tap on the pacifier.

“Oh, Erica!” Samantha said. Erica looked at her, hoping to be involved somehow. Instead, she saw Samantha bend down to pick up her stuffed cat from the ground. “You dropped him! No wonder you are so grumpy.”

She handed her the cat. Erica grumbled and yanked the cat with a frustration she hoped would be confused with excitement. The ‘adults’ went back to the conversation, and Erica tried to follow but gave up as they switched back and forth from English and their countries language she didn’t understand, knowing that even if she could they wouldn’t consider anything she had to say intelligent or mature enough to really listen to.

Erica leaned back into her car seat. Again, it was soft and comfortable, but the backward angle and tight straps were meant for someone to fall asleep and barely move, and she felt restless. She looked at the cartoon, but couldn’t stand any more of it. Instead, she struggled forward, put her foot on the seat beside her, rested an elbow on it, and leaned into her hand to stare out the window.

This was the part she hadn’t considered- the boredom. Her treatment was NON STOP. Back home, the brief periods of babying she experienced were always thrilling. However, after days, weeks, and months of it, it was just boring. Once the thrill wore off, spankings she used to look forward to were just painful, outfits she once felt adorable in were humiliating, talks that used to give her butterflies were condescending, and messy diapers that pushed her immediately into “sub space” were just smelly and itchy. Meanwhile, her favorite adult television shows were replaced with plot less cartoons, books she used to read were replaced with ‘story time,’ and conversations she would love to add to were replaced with… well, replaced with a pacifier and an order to be quiet. Worse yet was the ‘other thing,’- once the most exciting part of being babied and tied up, now just a big tease, drawing her to actions that immediately earned her punishment. The closest thing she had to a boyfriend was the stuffed cat, and he didn’t do much to fill in when they were finally alone together.

The wake up call had been that one day driving on the highway when she had messed herself. Her head space wore off long before they could stop, and she was left squirming uncomfortably and gagging as her “family” noticeably breathed through their noses and rolled windows down. They began arguing over whose turn it was to change her diaper as she tried to sink into her chair and disappear, while simultaneously lift out of the mess. What seemed like over an hour later (She wasn’t told the time), she lived out yet another exciting daydream turned horrifying nightmare in reality. She was lead by the hand through a crowded store, passed people who blocked their noses and teased her as she passed, then into a gas station bathroom for a very public diaper change. The last of her dignity was stripped away along with her oversize romper and the tapes of her diaper, and she was lain down to be cleaned with no input of her own. She covered her face with her hands as people passed, telling herself that at least they were female.

This, pattern, she found, applied to a lot of things. A very public spanking, which she had deliberately ‘bratted’ to receive, went from being a fun idea in her mind to a painful one when the smacks didn’t stop and she realized she no longer had a safety word. The first few times she was babysat by Samantha or other college students younger then her she had broken down into fits of ecstatic giggling, now it was annoying. Being spoon fed baby food in high chairs and bottles in laps went from being silly fun to boring and slow.

Worse, she couldn’t help the feeling that somehow, in this country, it fit. She had barely known about it before hand, but if she had researched it she would have found it was one of the most educated and healthy countries in the world. Walking through the air port surrounded by people head and shoulders taller then her made her feel little as it was. She looked at her family with their gym toned bodies, advanced degrees, muli-lingual skills and high paying jobs with her jaw open, seeing people who could both physically overpower her and talk circles around her. Her ‘family’ looked at her thin, doughy and fast food fed body, community college courses picked based on ease and ‘fun,’ and series of low paying internships while living in an apartment and saw someone who couldn’t take care of herself. She hated to admit it, but even Samantha and her friends who regularly babysat Erica could speak well over her head, and, in a few particularly embarrassing moments, even correct her casual English grammer. She could tell herself that she was more accomplished as she had already worked and earned her own place, but she knew that as soon as Samantha graduated with her complex double major, beyond Erica’s understanding, she’d have an earning power beyond Erica as well. There was a strong argument she was already more responsible. Any attempt to join in adult conversation, sound intelligent, or otherwise defend her adult life was met with chuckles, ‘awwws’ and condescending heat pats, and she imagined any attempt to explain that she had cheated the test would be met with the same and people talking about her ‘silly stories’ as if she wasn’t there. From their perspective, there was now doubt she was exactly where she belonged: in diapers, cribs, high chairs, and confining car seats, with a babysitter looking after her. It all hammered in the one, clear fact: this was no longer a game, this was her life.
She heard her name, followed by instructions in the other language. Samantha leaned in and tightened her straps, and Erica was pulled back into the chair. Bondage was also something she had experimented with, but was now less fun when it was a consistent rule. Play pens were confining and didn’t leave much room for movement, high chairs were worse still, and early bedtimes in cribs left her awake for hours. Now, she was stuck in the car seat, unable to look out the window, and stuck facing the cartoons.

She sat her cat on her laps and wrapped her arms around it. She closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. At least that would pass the time, and she couldn’t do much else in a seat clearly designed specifically to lull her. It was still fun to be a ‘baby’, but she wished there was a break. It was months before she could retake the test, and she considered whether she would deliberately twist it again or try to pass it as ‘normal’- that is, if she could pass it as normal if she tried. Until then, she supposed she only had one complaint- she was getting exactly, exactly what she wanted.


How were you trying to add it and what was the exact error message?

Also, two things.

  1. Using abdl as a tag is incredibly redundant and serves no useful purpose so I removed it.
  2. Make sure you post things in the correct location. This was in the #uncategorized section which is literally the “I don’t know where to put this” section, and I know you know where stories go :wink:

Thanks for the edits!
I’m not sure what happened with the “C-draftstyledefault…” thing. The system I normally publish my stories on first, on Deviantart, recently changed, and I’ve been noticing odd things added in or sections left out of my stories.
Also, yes, this one was less fetishy. I’m used to the images of either happy and ecstatic willing ABDLs, or ones who are humiliated, scared or upset in forced scenarios. The idea of someone being just bored with it was a fun one to work with, and I like showing how the fantasy of a full 24/7 kink lifestyle can seem fun but end up being incredibly unfulfilling once the initial thrill wears off, as Erica finds.

Thanks for the message. The exact error link was “Sorry, that file is too big (maximum size is 4096kb). Why not upload your large file to a cloud sharing service, then paste the link?” It is fine though, I don’t mind using the link and I’m sure it will help out the artist as well.
Noted on ABDL one, that is a habit from DA.
To be honest I haven’t posted much since the forum style changed so I will defend my ignorance on the matter :stuck_out_tongue:

Hmmm, that’s not the configured filesize limit…

Odd, then. Either way, I’m fine with using the link instead if thats alright

Prologue 1:

On Submissives: The Official Government Guide for New Dominants

Sub category: Littles/ABDLs

(AKA Diaper Boys/Girls, Diaper Slaves, Baby Slaves, Stinkers, Diaper Subs, Padded Brats, Pamper Butts, etc.)

Topic: Punishment

Sub Topic: Spanking

(Note that this page refers to spankings in terms of multiple barehanded spanks to the bottom, as opposed to encouraging butt pats, single warning smacks, or spankings using bondage gear or implements.)

The important thing to note with Littles and ABDLs, as mentioned in our other categories, is that while they may seem immature and have childish or even infantile interests they are still physically and mentally adults. This should be taken into account when delivering punishments. Importantly, do not be fooled by their attempts to use false assumptions from their childishness to hold back on punishments.

To begin, they may act ignorant of the problems they are causing (See sub category “bratting”). However, they are cognitively aware of what they are doing, and are prone to ignore rules in the hope they can use their “cuteness” to avoid serious punishment. Littles and ABDLs have been known to use, among other things, wide eyed facial expressions, feigned confusion, and even direct statements of stupidity (ie: “I’m sowwy daddy I’m just a dumb baby I didn’t know”) to get out of trouble. Even if caught, they may attempt to attract sympathy by acting “cute”, often cuddling stuffed animals or asking for hugs. These can be ignored. (editors note: you can still hug them or give them stuffed animals, but don’t let it deter punishments)

During punishment, the little or ABDL may attempt to over react to make the punishment seem worse then it is. Forced shouting, fake tears, or begging can be expected. Once again, they are able to handle more then they let on, and they are attempting to use their infantile status to avoid punishments.

With this in mind, it may seem at times that spanking is too harsh, but this is not the case. In fact, Littles and ABDLs often crave such punishments (see: Little/ABDL and Bondage/spanking overlap), and misbehavior can be an attempt to get them. Don’t worry, even if they are ‘bratting’ to get a reaction, punishment can still be effective.

The amount of spanks depends on the scenario, form of misbehavior and amount of times they’ve done it on the one hand, with the submissive’s size, gender, and experience on the other. A handy chart can be seen here. Begin slowly, patting every few seconds to warm up the submissive’s bottom, then get harder and faster. Once the spanking begins in earnest, spank at a consistent rate and full powered. Again, they may overreact beforehand, but this is faking and can be ignored. A good spanking for a serious offence should end in tears. As a general rule, begin the spanking on their diaper, pull it down before you’re halfway through, and finish bare.

If possible, the initial spanking should occur immediately after the misbehavior, or as soon as it is discovered. This ensures the little/ABDL draws the connection between action and result. If time does not allow, then the best course is to deliver 3-5 immediate spanks with a warning of a longer spanking later, then remind them of why they are being punished when the real spanking begins. For serious issues, a second spanking, normally delivered before bed, can help reinforce the lesson. If problems continue, give regular spankings at the same time each day or night until it is corrected. A spanking given every night before bed for two weeks can do wonders for behavior and is much more difficult to forget then a single punishment. For proper lengths of punishment, see the chart HERE.

Types of spanking:


The best method of spanking is to simply hold the little bend 90 degrees over your lap, one hand on the small of their back while spanking them with the other hand. (image) Begin with their diaper up, and if the action requires, pull it down half way through.

This is the classic form of punishment for many reasons. It is the easiest to pull off, requiring no equipment. It demonstrates complete control, as the submissive feels helpless and at the whim of the dominants without the need to tie them. It is particularly humiliating, especially when done in public, and helps to re-emphasized the submissive’s position. It is often a form of punishment submissive’s received as children, which adds to the embarrassment, and especially for littles and ABDLs, the mentality they work best under. It has been noted that rowdy submissives might immediately enter Littlespace while over their dominant’s lap. This works whether the submissive struggles or not. (note again that “struggling” refers to play fighting back, the submissive generally craves such treatment) If they struggle, being overpowered is a reminder of their status, if they don’t, going over the lap willingly publicly demonstrates submissiveness.

With this method the submissive may kick or pound their fists, but will generally do little that can help them actually escape. For mild issues, a light spanking on the diaper, or a bit less mild bare, can help. As always, the most severe punishments are reserved for denial of their status. If, for example…

Erica had read it with a fascination and excitement. Is that really how little they thought of her? They saw her as that bratty and pathetic? That is how they were supposed to treat her, a grown adult? Really?


Methinks the babies doth protest to much…
(Translation for littles pretending to not understand: arguing only makes the point seem more true)

Yes the prologue second is kind of odd. It was initially just going to be a one shot with the initial story, but I felt like I had implied a few other fun short stories in it. I actually had a sort of informal poll on DA as to whether I should write a prequal to this or sequel to “Lying,” and this one out. Still might do the sequel to Lying but it seems people wanted this first

Well thank you, that is very kind and flattering :slight_smile:

Erica had been cut off by the sound of approaching footsteps. At the time, she had been left in a pink and white cloth play pen inside her masters’ office as her “Daddy” worked on his computer. She gleefully piled her blocks into towers and knocked them down, but when Daddy went to the bathroom she could help but get up and look at what he was reading. To her shock, it was part of an online manual distributed to help dominents take care of newly designated “submissives,” of which she was a proud member of the “ABDL” category. She had fun manipulating her dominents into treating her how she wanted, and when she found what she assumed was the hard copy, she knew she had to read it. It was a large yellow book with a picture of a boy in overalls, sucking a pacifier and holding a stuffed animal, standing beside a girl in a diaper and t shirt (she loved to think of them as “boy” and “girl” even through they seemed to be in their thirties). However, it was written in another language, and finding the online source with the english translation had made her stomach bubble in anticipation.

As the footsteps approached, she ran back to her play pen in a daze.

The small section she read had left her diaper wet and her loins aching. Her Daddy walked back in, and she stared at his bulging muscles, imagining him pulling her over his lap and raining blows down as she squirmed. She imagined struggling with all her might to no avail, completely at the whim of the stronger dominant, until she was left sobbing and humiliated, only free from punishment after she was forced to shout “I’m your little baby” in public. Yes, it would have to be in public. She imagined him then sitting her down and rocking her gently, her bottom still warm, until she calmed down.

She shuddered.

That, however, had been a week ago. Since arriving and being “adopted”, she had yet to receive an actual spanking.

And why would she have? What reason was there to complain or act up? She had everything she ever wanted, exactly the way she wanted it.

The thought sent her into another fit of glee as she skipped along beside her new “Mommy.” The fact she was out in public as she was was explanation enough as to why she didn’t misbehave.

First of all, being diapered in public was a thrill she always longed for. In her past life, she might have picked some thin ones and carefully hid them under skirts or lose pants. Now, she didn’t bother to hide it as her thick double diapers and plastic pants bulged through her baby blue shorttalls, out in the open for the world to see. On top of that, she had the adorable teddy bear print on her pink t shirt, her long socks, the doll in her hand, her bonnet, and if that wasn’t enough, the pacifier she gleefully sucked left no doubt as to her status. She fingered the collar at her neck- it proved she was an official sub, the rest proved she was an ABDL sub, and the entire world could see it. She made a point of looking as many people in the face as she could, hoping they saw her, and she loved the chuckles and grins she received.

Even better was her leash. Most subs had it attached directly to their collars, but as a little, she had a special harness that went over her shoulders and gave her doms complete control over her.

So why would she misbehave? To earn the wonderful spankings, of course! Her butt had been deprived from its due punishment for too long, today was the day she earned it. Right in public, walking through a sunny, crowded park, and on their way to meet Daddy whose strong arms would deliver where everyone could see. She just needed to misbehave enough to get there.

It was a bright day, and they followed a stone path that ran through a wide open field, with several boths and shops along its sides. People walked and ran all about her, enjoying the weather. A few stopped to look or giggle at her, but most were used to the idea of submissives in public now. Clearly, she needed to do something a bit more to get the attention she craved and the humiliation she needed, and this park gave plenty of opportunities.

“Erica, hurry up now” “Mommy” said.

Erica realized she had stopped as she thought of the possibilities. Oh well, might as well begin her “misbehavior” now.

She slowed down and let the leash tug. She tried to keep from smiling.

“Mommy” turned to look at her. “Erica, I said now.”

Erica shook her head.

“Mommy” raised an eyebrow. “Excuse me? Come forward unless you want a spanking.”

Even the threat was a thrill to Erica, and she felt a jolt run up her body. Still, she acted innocent and began walking.

“Mommy” continued, and Erica walked slowly, again letting the leash tighten. She smirked. Another opportunity came to mind, and she widened her stance and began to waddle.

The leash became taut again, and “Mommy” turned to look. She made a face. “Are you wet again? Why are you walking like that.”

Erica put on her best fake-fake innocent face and kept waddling.

“Let me check those diapers.”

The sentence immediately sent a shiver of pleasure into Erica’s spine, and she had to stop herself from giggling. A public diaper check! With all these people around! She couldn’t believe how wonderful it was. At this rate, “Mommy” might find her diapers soaked in an entirely different way.

“Mommy” came behind her, made her bend over slightly, and opened the panel on the back of her shortalls. Erica squealed with delight as her cartoon printed diapers came into full view, and hoped her squeal came across as embarrassment.

“Now now, I know you don’t like everyone to see but its something you’ll have to get used to.” “Mommy” said as she opened the back of her diapers, patted her, then check the front. “Hmmm, still clean, I guess you can’t tell. Or maybe you’re just being lazy.” She buttoned the panel back up and gave Erica a hard whack on the bottom.

Erica wanted to dance with joy. A public diaper check, a challenge that she could even tell if her diapers to wet, a condescending remark about her being “naughty,” and a warning spank? All in the space of a minute? She wanted to kiss whoever printed that wonderful, wonderful rule book.

She waddled beside “Mommy.” She needed something worse then just falling behind. She looked ahead, and saw the perfect opportunity.

1 Like

Hmmm believe it or not the consequences might have been foreshadowed somewhat in the first part and the title.

As for the edits, Hemmingway is sometimes misquoted with “Write drunk, edit sober.” As it be arrogant for me to say I’m even half as good as Hemmingway I’ve been concentrating on the first part.

There are plenty of examples of what happens to arrogant people in my stories and I don’t want to tempt fate and join them. I do appreciate the corrections though, and I’ll add them in :slight_smile:

Thanks for the comment! :smiley:

Can I just say, your use of passive tense (had been cut off, had been left) really defuses any tension you may have built prior?

The idea that these things just “happened” to her is silly. Clearly someone did them to her. So use action verbs, and use action phrases. Maintain your intensity!

Thank you! That’s actually a good tip.

I think this might have been lost after I re-arranged it a bit, but that portion is her memory. Its something that happened prior to the pass tense story while the current ‘action’ is walking on the leash, hence the tense

Otherwise I’d agree! Thank you :slight_smile:

Along the path was a small booth advertising a carnival style game. Balloons ran along the back wall with buckets of darts underneath, and above colorful stuffed animals hung. As they approached, Erica suddenly veered toward it, pulling on the leash.

“Hey! Naughty baby! Come back here!” “Mommy” pulled the leash back.

Erica pointed at the stuffed animals. “I want the bunny!” She said.

“No, we are going to meet your daddy. No time for games, now come along.”

Erica folded her arms and stamped her feet. “NO! BUNNY!”

“Mommy” waved a finger under her nose. “You listen to me you…”

“No you listen to me! Bunny now!”

“Mommy” glared at her. “Listen you little brat. You’re a baby, and babies listen to their mommies and daddies.”

Erica felt the excitement inside her. That was the perfect set up for the most spanking-worthy thing the book said she could do. “Well maybe I’m not a baby!”

“Excuse me? You’re a baby.”

“NO! BIG GIRL! I WANT BUNNY!” She reached for the rabbit in the stand and pulled it down.

“Hey!” the owner, a greying, bearded man, said.

“Mommy” raised a flat hand at him. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” She then pointed a finger at Erica. “You put that back now.”

“NO!” Erica shook her head and squeezed the rabbit."

“I"m counting! One…”

Erica resisted the urge to respond.


She shook her head.

“Three. That’s it.” “Mommy” grabbed Erica’s ear and twisted it. Erica yelped, and as she reached toward it, “Mommy” grabbed the rabbit right out of her hand and gave it back to the the owner. She then lifted her spare hand and smacked Erica’s rear three times hard, each time letting out a loud, plastic thud.

“You apologize to the man right now!”

“I"m sorry!” Erica whined. She figured she had done enough to earn her bottom’s comeuppance, and wanted to hurry things along.

“We have to hurry to meet your Daddy, but I promise you when we do he’s going to give you a real spanking you won’t be forgetting soon.”

“No Mommy please!” Erica pleaded.

“That’s enough! Suck your paci and no more talking.”

She walked and Erica followed. Erica maintained her pouty face, but inside she was filled with excitement. It worked! She got scolded right in public, her ear twisted, her bottom spanked, and she was on her way to a promised punishment! She couldn’t believe her luck.

After a few minutes of being dragged along by the leash, Erica saw a small, fenced in area of the park beside a cafe stand. There, at one of the tables, was a tall, muscular man in a suit reading a newspaper and drinking coffee. Her stomach flipped. This was it! That was her daddy, about to give her the spanking of a lifetime (hopefully) right where other people could watch and laugh at her diapered bottom (again, hopefully). She remembered the first time she laid eyes on his thick, strong arms and realized he was to be her “daddy.” She almost immediately found herself in sub space, imaging those arms carrying easily her like a baby, forcing her into confining play pens and cribs as she struggled helplessly against his strength, forcing her into humiliating outfits as she whined, or spanking her into tears for her bratiness. So far she had experienced all but one of those, and each one had been magical.

They approached, and he got out, said something in another language, and hugged them both. As he hugged Erica, he reach behind her and patted her diaper, casually and habitually checking for messes, and making Erica even more excited. They began to speak together in words Erica didn’t understand, and she saw a shadow fall over her face.

Erica wanted to cry with anticipation. It was happening, it really was happening! All the stories she had read, all the pictures she had looked at, all the videos she watched, all the times she had daydreamed of this, and it was finally coming true! She wanted to kiss the wonderful leaders of this land and have each one check her padded rear. She felt her head going light and her stomach turning, symptoms she prayed they would assume was nervousness.

Her “Mommy” showed him her phone, and she saw they were looking at a chart. Erica realized it must have been the “spanking number” chart she had seen linked.

Finally he reached out and grabbed her hand. With his other hand he shook a finger under her nose. “Erica,” came his deep, heavily accented voice. “Were you a baby baby today?”

Erica wanted to scream. She felt tears of joy coming into her eyes. She wanted to shout out that yes, she was a bad baby and beg him to spank her diapered butt until she wet herself. She wanted to shout every swear word and insult she knew until she racked up so many spanks it would be hours before they’d be done and days before she could sit again.

Instead, she shook her head. She felt her pigtails fly, and almost melted at another reminder of her status. Her knees were weak, and she was thankful for her diaper as she was sure she’d almost mess herself in excitement.

His eyebrows raised. “Are you sure? Are you lying to me?”

Another head shake.

“Did you steal that rabbit from the stand?”

She paused, then gave a slow, reluctant looking nod.

“Do good babies steal things, throw tantrums and lie about being big girls?”

A head shake, slow.

“So what were you? Say it.”

“A bad baby.”

“Louder so people can here. What were you?”

“I was a bad baby daddy,” she marveled at the words coming out of her mouth, and the fact they made perfect sense to everyone who heard.

“Good. And what do bad babies get?”

“Spankings,” she said. She wanted to scream at him to hurry up, but she held it in.

“Good. Then come you bad little diaper girl. Its time for your spanking.”

Was supposed to be “his” :stuck_out_tongue:

ANd its all good! :slight_smile: thanks!
Funny enough when I first starting writing stories I went between kink and horror. I always thought they were set up in a similar way with the build up and anticipation. Minus the kink aspect and silliness, a lot of AB stories could double as weird horror

Oh definitly. In fact I wouldn’t be surprised if there wasn’t alright a horror movie/show/book that references people being forcibly regressed. I think I remember something similar from Goosebumps, and definitely read a “make your own horror story” where one of the endings is you get turned into a baby.

Also, I agree that it would be for some ABs as well. As Erica is learning here, actually being forcibly regressed would probably be a lot less fun then it seems, even for kinksters

She pulled back at his hand, but let him force her. She kicked and struggled, knowing full well nothing she could do could break his grasp. He put both hands on her waist, lifted her up, sat down and deposited her hard on his knee. One hand in her back was all it took to hold her down, and the second opened the flap of her pants and came down hard on her rear.


Erica gasped. Even through the plastic, it was much harder then she expected. Good, she told herself, I was a bad baby and I deserve…


Another gasp, and her train of thought was cut off. He was even stronger then she thought. She chuckled. With her flap open, the entire world could see her printed diapers through the entire…


She yelped this time. How the hell was he that strong? None of the doms she met before were…


How many was he going to…


Were they getting faster…


“You are a bad, baby baby! A BAD little diaper girl! You DON"T throw tantrums in public. BAD!”

Each “bad” was accompanied by a softer smack, and Erica sighed that he wasn’t hitting as hard the entire time. That would have…


Erica shouted as his hand landed again, far harder, and her pacifier flew from her mouth. “Holy shi…”


She was thankful the spank cut off the rest of her word. He continued his name calling, and she tried to regain the mindset she had when it began listening. Yes, I am a bad ba…


He was so goddam strong! “HOLY FU…”


She shouted, and squirmed again, this time for real. She unconciously tried to move her bottom awa…


She felt her pacifier being shoved in her mouth and a strap tightened behind her head, locking it in place. At least she knew she wouldn’t be swearing.


She tried to put her hand back over her bottom, shocking herself. In all her years daydreaming about being spanked she always imagined playfully fighting back while secretly loving it, now she longed to stop the rain of irregular blows…


Irregular blows. Her mind shot back to the page online. “Begin slowly, patting every few seconds to warm up the submissive, then get harder and faster. Once the spanking begins in earnest, spank at a consistent rate and full powered.”

But that meant he was only…







Now real tears formed from her eyes as she entered the real punishment. She squirmed and struggled, trying desperately to break out, and failing under his strength.

This was what she wanted. This was exactly the scenario she had always dreamed of. But now, in the middle of it, she wanted to scream and beg for mercy. She fought with all her might, and like she dreamed about, he held her down.


How many spanks was he going to give? She never saw that chart, but this spanking seemed to go on forever.


People were watching. LOTS of people. Erica looked at them through tear soaked eyes. Some laughed, some just shook their heads in disappointment, feeling emphatic shame her, all grown up and still in diapers, still getting spanked. After years of craving it, she wanted to hide from their judging eyes and filming cameras.

The spanking continued, and Erica was soon sobbing in earnest. She hung limply, helpless and sore, yelping with each blow.

Finally it began to slow. She breathed in. Was it finally over?

She groaned as she felt his hand reach to the top of her diaper and pull it down. “As a general rule, begin the spanking on their diaper, pull it down before you’re halfway through, and finish bare.” She wasn’t even half way over, and the second part was by far the worse.

Now, her bare and no doubt flaming red bottom was exposed to the audience, and she was in far from the right mindset to enjoy the embarrassment. Her face blushed as red as her rear, but she didn’t have long to think about it before the spanking began again. He gave two soft pats, which themselves were painful after the long spanking, raised his hand, and brought it down hard.

Erica wanted to scream. If being spanked on her diaper was painful, this was agonizing. She shook her head widely but knew it would continue regardless.

Tears streamed liberally from her eyes. She prayed they’d see her pain and let up. " Forced shouting, fake tears, or begging can be expected"- the line came back to her, and the spanks continued.

Hung over his lap, her ears filled with the sound of spanks and laughter and her mind filled with pain and humiliation, she lost track of time. No part of her was excited any more, no part was enjoying it. She simply sobbed and let it continue, and barely even noticed when her diaper was pulled back up and she was sat down on her lap.

She found herself hugging her “Daddy” and sobbing into his chest as he patted her back. “There there,” he said and kissed her forehead. “Its ok.” He rocked her gently. Even that seemed painful on her aching cheeks.

She opened her eyes. A cell phone was on the table behind him, open to the spanking chart. Her eyes went wide.

It seemed the punishment she got was light compared to what it said. It was recommending HUNDREDS of spanks. She had only got a beginning one, the first punishment for the first misbehavior.

Her mind went back to what she had read. “The important thing to note with Littles and ABDLs, as mentioned in our other categories, is that while they may seem immature and have childish or even infantile interests they are still physically and mentally adults.”

That was it. This wasn’t meant to be a punishment for a kid. It also wasn’t meant to be an exciting, kinky ‘funishment.’ This was designed to punish serious adults for serious misbehavior.

What was it exactly she had done? By denying she was a baby, she was effectively breaking an employment contract. By stealing from the store, she was breaking the law. In normal circumstances those were things that could end up in court, police could be involved… she was saved from that by her status, but she still did the crime. The punishments promised were intended to be the equivalent of fines or even jail time, for adults who could handle it, and when taking into account that most subs LIKED being spanked and the numbers needed to be adjusted accordingly. Of course it wasn’t going to be light, it was meant to be harsh even for someone who wanted it.

Eventually her tears slowed. “See? Its not that bad. All better?” he asked.

She nodded.

“And you promise to not be a bad baby anymore?”

She nodded sadly.

“I need you to say it sweetie. I know your pacifier is tied in but do your best.”

“I promise to be a good baby,” she said.

“Good girl.” He kissed her again and began to bounce her. “Now what do you say we get you a nice big cookie and a chocolate milk for being a good girl during your spanking, eh?”

Erica smiled. “Yayy!” she said.

“Ohh, good girl. I like it when youre a good little princess much more, don’t you?”

“Mhmmm,” she nodded happily.

“Good. Now, to make sure the lesson really sinks in I’ll need to give you another spanking tonight, but be a good baby until then and it won’t be much harder, ok?”

Erica moaned out loud.


love it hope to read more someday. this definatly provides the sort of realism to the story you dont tend to see in lot others that dont take in account the complete loss of all privalliges that been treated likea baby would cause as naturally you sacrifice all of them for the safety f yourself and reciving the car of others and the way that such a situation could be unascapable without some form of outside help if the situation is legal or at least has a legal presedent like this story does

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Yes, I like to think of this one as a realistic reaction to unrealistic scenario. A lot of my own stories are built around this kind of fantasy, but the reality is I think it would become less fun very quickly.
Thanks for the comment :slight_smile: There will be more to this sometime, hopefully lol

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(Prologue 2:)

Erica tried not to giggle as she sat in her car seat. Then she remembered that, in the eyes of the others in the car, she was effectively a baby and was watching her cartoons, and laughed out loud.

Her stomach grumbled. Her stomach was full, and she ached for release. Normally in her new life she’d just let it go into her diaper, but now she had a new reason to hold it in. When she first came to the country, there were many things she wanted to experience. She had been publicly diapered and changed, she’d been fed in a high chair, and she’d received a spanking that was admittedly less fun then she expected. However, there was one more daydream she had always had, fueled by countless kinky stories and artwork, and today she was going to get it.

She hummed to herself and kicked her feet, playing the perfect mindless baby. Samantha, her “older sister” who was in fact a few years younger then her, smiled at her and patted her leg, and Erica giggled again. She loved her new life. She sat, thickly double diapered, and wearing plastic pants under a pink, floral short sleeved sleeper, a pacifier in her mouth and stuffed rabbit in her arms. It even had a back flap for diaper checks, and she loved that it was even specified “for diaper checks” when they bought it. She had just been fed a meal of mushed baby food in a high chair before they left, and was now strapped securely into her car seat with her toy, expected to fall asleep until the end of the car ride. It really was more then she had ever hoped for.

The ride was the other benefit of her new life. Having gone from a life in a spartan apartment in a low paying job, to the live in sub to a wealthy, upper class family who gave her anything she wanted that was deemed ‘babyish’ enough and travelled extensively was a huge plus. She had visited places she never even hopped to see and vacationed more in a few months then she had in years before. Now, they were on another road trip. She didn’t even know where they were going, as they didn’t always think to tell the baby, but she knew it was a long trip on the high way, and they’d be going from hotel to hotel all over the countryside. That was enough for her plan.

The car pulled into a gas station, and “Daddy” got out. He turned around and leaned back into the car. “I’m going to fill up the car before we hit the highway. Our next stop won’t be for a few hours along the road, so if you need to go to the bathroom do it now.” He turned back and closed the door.

Erica giggled and pretended she was watching the cartoons. That was what she was hoping for. They had driven on the highway before, and once they were outside the city it was miles before the next stop even came up. Even her outfit, with the tight enclosed bottom of her onesie over her diaper, but still with a flap to allow for full visibility and the whim of anyone checking her, was perfect for this plan, as was being strapped tightly in her padded car seat. Her only prayer was that at least part of the high way could be rough and uneven, though that was unlikely as most things in the small country were fixed quickly.

“Does Erica need a change?” “Mommy” asked Samantha.

Samantha looked at her and smiled. “I don’t know. She’s been a farty baby but I don’t think she went.”

“Well why don’t you check her diaper?” “Mommy” said, this time sternly. That meant she was on diaper changing duty for now and was trying to avoid the risk of checking, so “Mommy” emphasized it. Erica was fine either way, but Samantha was lucky she’d be spared it this time.

Samantha began speaking in an exasperated voice in another language, and Mommy replied calmly in the same. Erica was never invited into ‘grown up conversations’, and as they regularly practiced multi lingual skills they’d switch out without caring if she understood. Erica suspected they often changed when the topic involved her so she wouldn’t understand, then told her what they decided she needed to know later. This was an arrangement she was more then happy to be part of.

Samantha rolled her eyes and sighed, then turned and smiled at Erica. “Come on little one, lean forward.”

Erica obeyed as her sister undid her back flap and opened her diaper, then pushed her back into the seat and checked her front. “All clean! Good baby!” She said, and Erica back at her.

After the diaper check, Samantha went into the gas station, returning soon after, and “Mommy” went. They were careful never to leave Erica alone, and Erica noticed and appreciated it.

Erica’s stomach turned and she made a face. The truth was she was getting desperate. She had deliberately over eaten that morning and held it in long past the time she would normally have filled her diapers specifically for her plan. Months of diaper use had made it more difficult as it was to hold things in, and she hoped they moved on quickly.

They all got back into the car and pulled out. Erica settled into her car seat, watching the signs. For this to work, she had to make sure they were far enough outside the city that they wouldn’t want to turn back but close enough that it was still a long drive until the next stop. She knew roughly the area, but would have to watch.

Her thoughts turned to the change itself. Samantha seemed to be designated changer now, which had some benefits. Being a thirty year old former professional getting her diaper changed by a twenty something college student certainly maxed out humiliation, which could be a pro or a con. However, she imagined if Samantha was designated for the morning, it might change in the afternoon. That left “Mommy” and “Daddy.” “Mommy” was the most vanilla, she’d always take it. However, “Daddy” was by far her favorite. Being carried, safe and secure in his strong, manly arms, diapered and whining in public so all could see she was his little girl kept docile and obedient, then stripped naked in front of him, feeling his hands all over her… She shivered. It was a magic experience. She wanted everyone to know she was his full time submissive and wished she could broadcast it everywhere. THAT was the ideal, and it might just happen.

Erica’s felt her stomach rumble again and put a hand to it. She looked out the window. They were almost outside the city, but it was going to be close.

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