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The Swipe Right

 

Chapter 1:

In the digital age, where connections are often forged through the flick of a finger, it was a typical evening spent browsing through a dating app that set the stage for an unexpected adventure. My name is Mikey; like many others navigating the world of online dating, I was searching for that elusive spark, a connection that might just lead to something more meaningful.

As I lazily swiped left and right, profiles blurred into one another, each promising something unique yet often feeling the same. Just as I was about to call it a night, a profile caught my eye. Her name was Morgan. Her profile picture radiated warmth and kindness, a vibrant smile that seemed to leap off the screen. Her eyes, a captivating blend of green and gold, held a spark that was both inviting and mysterious.

Morgan owned a daycare, a detail that made her even more intriguing. There was something incredibly attractive about a woman who cared for children, who had the patience and kindness to nurture young minds. Her bio was simple yet profound: "Looking for someone who appreciates the simple things in life. Loves kids, adventures, and genuine connections."

I swiped right without a second thought. To my surprise, it was a match. A rush of excitement coursed through me as I quickly typed out a message, "Hey Morgan, loved your profile. Daycare owner, huh? That's amazing. What's the most rewarding part of your job?"

Her response came sooner than I expected. "Hey Mikey, thanks! The most rewarding part is seeing the kids grow and learn. It's like watching little miracles every day. What about you? What do you do?"

I smiled, feeling a connection already forming. "I'm a software developer. Not as glamorous as shaping young minds, but it pays the bills. What do you like to do for fun?"

Morgan's reply was playful and flirtatious. "I love hiking, reading, and trying new recipes. But lately, I've been exploring something a bit more... adventurous."

Intrigued, I asked, "Oh yeah? Like what?"

Her next message made my heart race. "Well, let's just say I've been exploring some new... fantasies. Ever tried anything a bit out of the ordinary?"

I felt a thrill run down my spine. This conversation was taking a turn I hadn't expected, but I was more than willing to go along for the ride. "I'm always up for an adventure. What did you have in mind?"

Morgan's response was coy yet inviting. "Why don't we meet up and find out? There's a great little café downtown. How about tomorrow afternoon?"

I agreed without hesitation. "Sounds perfect. I'll see you there."

As I put my phone down, I couldn't wipe the grin off my face. This was shaping up to be more than just another swipe right. This felt like the start of something exciting, something real. Little did I know, this was just the beginning of a journey that would challenge my perceptions and push the boundaries of my desires.
 

Chapter 2:

Curiosity piqued by Morgan's intriguing offer, I found myself eagerly accepting the chance to see her daycare in action. The building was nestled in a serene neighborhood, its exterior painted in cheerful hues that promised warmth and joy within. As we approached, the sounds of laughter and playful chatter spilled out, creating a welcoming atmosphere.

Morgan led me inside, and I was immediately struck by the vibrant energy of the place. The walls were adorned with colorful murals depicting whimsical scenes of forests, oceans, and outer space, each corner designed to spark imagination and creativity. Toys of every kind were neatly arranged, ready to be explored by eager little hands.

"Welcome to Little Miracles," Morgan said with a proud smile. "This is where the magic happens."

I followed her as she walked through the daycare, introducing me to the different areas. There was a cozy nook filled with books, a play area with a giant wooden castle, and a quiet corner with soft mats and pillows for nap time. The atmosphere was electric, filled with the boundless energy of children at play.

"This place is amazing," I said, genuinely impressed. "You've really created something special here."

Morgan beamed at the compliment. "Thanks. I've always believed that every child deserves a place where they can be themselves, explore, and grow. That's what I try to provide here."

As we walked, a little girl with pigtails and a mischievous grin ran up to Morgan, tugging at her hand. "Morgan, Morgan! Look what I made!" She held up a drawing of what looked like a purple dinosaur wearing a tutu.

Morgan knelt down, her eyes lighting up with genuine interest. "Wow, Lily! That's incredible. Is that a dancing dinosaur?"

Lily nodded enthusiastically. "Yes! She's going to the ballet."

Morgan laughed softly. "That's wonderful. I bet she'll be the star of the show."

Lily grinned and ran off, her imagination already pulling her in a new direction.

I watched the interaction, feeling a warmth spread through me. "You're really good with them," I said.

Morgan stood up, her eyes shining. "They make it easy. There's something so pure and honest about kids. They haven't learned to hide their feelings or put up walls. It's refreshing."

As we continued our tour, I noticed a door at the end of a hallway, slightly ajar. The room inside was dark, unlike the bright and cheerful spaces we'd seen so far. "What's in there?" I asked, nodding towards the door.

Morgan's smile took on a mysterious edge. "That's the quiet room. It's where the kids go when they need a break from all the excitement. It's also where I explore some of my... other interests."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Other interests?"

Morgan leaned in, her voice low. "Remember when I mentioned exploring new fantasies? That room plays a big part in that."

I felt a jolt of excitement mixed with curiosity. This woman was full of surprises, and I was eager to uncover more. But before I could ask anything else, a loud crash came from the other room, followed by a chorus of giggles. Morgan laughed, shaking her head.

"Sounds like someone's building a fort again. I should go check on them. Feel free to look around more if you like."

As she walked away, I couldn't help but feel drawn to that dark room at the end of the hallway. What kind of fantasies did Morgan explore in there? I was dying to find out, but that would have to wait. For now, I was content to soak in the joyful atmosphere of Little Miracles, a place where magic and reality seemed to coexist in harmony.

I walked back into the main play area, watching as Morgan helped the kids build a fort out of blankets and chairs. She looked up and caught my eye, smiling warmly. I smiled back, feeling a sense of anticipation. This daycare was more than just a business; it was a labor of love, a testament to Morgan's nurturing spirit. And as I watched her interact with the kids, I knew I wanted to explore more of her world, whatever that might entail. Little did I know, that dark room held secrets that would challenge my perceptions and draw me into a world of desire and discovery. But for now, I was content to be drawn into the magic of Little Miracles, one step at a time.
 

Chapter 3:

As Morgan busied herself with the kids in the main play area, I found myself drawn back to that dark, mysterious room at the end of the hallway. The door was still slightly ajar, beckoning me to explore its secrets. I glanced over my shoulder, seeing Morgan occupied with a group of giggling children, and decided to take my chance.

I slipped into the room, the air inside cool and still. I fumbled along the wall, searching for a light switch. Suddenly, the door clicked shut behind me, enclosing me in total darkness. Before I could react, the lights flicked on, blinding me momentarily.

As my vision adjusted, I saw Morgan standing there, holding a wooden paddle. Her expression was stern, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. "You've been a bad boy, Mikey," she said, her voice a mix of reprimand and amusement.

Before I could protest, she grabbed me by the arm, her grip surprisingly strong. She led me to a table in the center of the room, which I now realized was equipped with restraints. My heart pounded in my chest as she bent me over, my butt facing her. I felt a rush of adrenaline, a mix of excitement and nervousness.

"You shouldn't be exploring rooms that aren't authorized, Mikey," she said, her voice taking on a teasing tone. "That's very naughty of you."

With that, she brought the paddle down, smacking it against my butt. I let out a yelp, more from surprise than pain. She spanked me again, each smack punctuated by her playful scolding.

The Paddle:

"Bad boys need to be disciplined, Mikey," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "You've been very curious, haven't you? Poking your nose where it doesn't belong."

I squirmed under her grip, but there was no escaping her playful punishment. The room echoed with the sound of the paddle meeting my flesh, each smack sending a jolt through me. It was a strange sensation, the line between pleasure and pain blurring with each strike.

Morgan continued her playful scolding, her voice taking on a singsong quality. "You're just a baby, aren't you? Exploring where you shouldn't be. Well, maybe next time you'll think twice before snooping around."

As suddenly as it had begun, the spanking stopped. Morgan released her grip, and I stood up, my face flushed and my heart racing. She looked at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"There," she said, a satisfied smile playing on her lips. "Now you've had a taste of what happens to bad boys who can't follow the rules."

 

Chapter 4:

Once I was secured on the table, a primal instinct kicked in, and I tried to break free. "Morgan, please," I begged, my voice trembling as I strained against the restraints. "Please don't diaper me. Don't take my clothes away."
 

The Nursery:

 

The Changing Table:

 

Morgan chuckled, a sound that was both sweet and wicked. "Oh, Mikey," she said, her eyes sparkling with amusement and determination. "You don't have a choice, sweetheart. You're going to enjoy being diapered like a baby. I promise you that."

She reached for a pair of scissors, the blades glinting in the soft light of the room. I watched in horror as she began to cut away my clothes, the sound of fabric tearing filling the air. I squirmed and bucked, trying futilely to escape, but the restraints held fast.

"Please, Morgan," I pleaded, feeling a flush of embarrassment as she stripped me bare. "Don't do this. I can't be naked in front of you."

She smiled gently, her eyes never leaving mine as she continued to cut away my clothes. "There's no room for shame here, Mikey," she said softly. "This is about trust, about letting go. You're safe with me."

As the last of my clothes fell away, I was left naked and vulnerable, like a baby ready to be diapered. I felt a rush of embarrassment, a hot blush spreading across my cheeks. Morgan paused, her eyes roaming over my naked body, her gaze appreciative and loving.

"You're beautiful, Mikey," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about."

She reached for a dinosaur-printed diaper, and I felt a surge of panic. "No, Morgan, please," I begged, trying to wriggle away. "Not that. I can't wear that."

 

The Diaper:

 

She laughed, a sound that was both comforting and firm. "Oh, Mikey," she said, shaking her head. "You don't get to make that decision, sweetheart. I'm in charge here, and I say you're wearing this adorable dinosaur diaper."

I tried to fight her, bucking and straining against the restraints, but Morgan was undeterred. She gently but firmly lifted my hips, sliding the diaper beneath me. I begged and pleaded, but she didn't care what I had to say. Her touch was gentle and sure as she fastened the diaper around me, securing it tightly in place.

As she finished, she leaned down, her face inches from mine. "There you go, sweetheart," she said softly, her voice filled with love. "All diapered and ready to go. You're my baby now, Mikey. And I'm going to take such good care of you."

I looked up into her eyes, seeing the warmth and love reflected there, and felt a strange sense of calm wash over me. Despite my embarrassment, despite my struggles, there was a part of me that felt...content. Safe. Loved. And as Morgan smiled down at me, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together.

 

Chapter 5:

Morgan stood back, admiring her handiwork as I lay there, now fully diapered and feeling a mix of humiliation and intrigue. She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and began to pace around the table, her fingers tracing patterns on the smooth surface.

"Now, Mikey," she began, her voice taking on a more authoritative tone. "There are a few rules you should know about. Fifteen, to be exact. These rules will help you understand your new role as my baby. And don't worry, I'll make sure you remember each and every one."

I watched her warily, my eyes following her as she moved. "Rules?" I asked, my voice small and uncertain.

She nodded, holding up a single finger. "Rule number one: Morgan is always right. You will listen to me and obey me in all things. Understood?"

I hesitated, then nodded, feeling a strange flutter in my stomach.

A second finger joined the first. "Rule number two: Diapers are the bathroom now. You will use them for all your needs, and I will change you when I see fit."

My eyes widened in horror. "Morgan, please—" I started, but she cut me off with a sharp look.

"Rule number three," she continued, adding a third finger. "You will ask permission for all things. Want to play with a toy? Ask permission. Want to eat? Ask permission. Want to speak? You get the idea."

I swallowed hard, feeling a sense of dread washing over me.

Morgan continued, her voice steady and calm as she listed each rule. "Rule number four: No walking. You'll crawl or be carried like a good little baby. Rule number five: You'll drink from a bottle or sippy cup. Rule number six: No swearing or bad language. Rule number seven: Naptime is when I say it is. Rule number eight: You'll eat what I give you, when I give it to you."

She paused, looking down at me with a soft smile. "Rule number nine: You will always tell Morgan the truth. Rule number ten: You will not touch your diaper or try to remove it. Rule number eleven: You will not try to escape or leave the daycare. Rule number twelve: You will not harm yourself or others."

I listened, my mind reeling as I tried to take in each rule. Morgan's voice was soothing, almost hypnotic, and I found myself nodding along despite the growing unease in my stomach.

"Rule number thirteen: You will not hide your feelings from Morgan. Rule number fourteen: You will accept and embrace your role as my baby. And finally, rule number fifteen: You will love and trust Morgan, always."

She finished, looking down at me with a warm smile. "And that's it, sweetheart," she said softly. "Those are the rules. Follow them, and we'll get along just fine."

I looked up at her, my mind a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. I felt overwhelmed, scared, and yet...there was a part of me that felt cared for, seen. I took a deep breath, trying to calm the storm within me. Morgan reached out, her hand gently stroking my cheek.

"Good boy, Mikey," she murmured. "You're doing so well. I'm proud of you."

And with those words, I felt a strange sense of pride, of accomplishment. I was hers, completely and utterly. And as I lay there, diapered and helpless, I knew that this was just the beginning of my new life as Morgan's baby. The rules were clear, the path laid out before me. All I had to do was follow.

Chapter 6:

Morgan's eyes narrowed as she looked down at me, her expression stern. "Now, Mikey," she began, her voice firm. "You were a bad boy during your diaper change. You argued with Mommy about using your diaper as your potty. Bad boys need to be punished, isn't that right?"

I felt a shiver run down my spine as I looked up at her, my eyes wide with apprehension. "Morgan, please—" I started, but she cut me off with a sharp look.

"Ah, ah, ah," she chided, wagging her finger. "What did I tell you about asking permission? And it's 'Mommy', not 'Morgan'. You've already earned yourself a punishment. Don't make it worse."

With that, she grabbed my arm and pulled me towards a nearby chair. She sat down, her grip firm as she tugged me over her lap. I struggled, a wave of panic washing over me as I realized what she intended to do.

"Morgan, I mean, Mommy, please don't—" I begged, but she hushed me with a firm pat on my diapered bottom.

"Hush now, Mikey," she said, her voice calm and collected. "You're getting fifty good spankings on your diaper bottom. And if you keep squirming, it'll be more."

I tried to get free, my heart pounding in my chest, but she held me firmly in place. "That's another fifteen, Mikey," she said, her voice tinged with disappointment. "Now, let's begin."

And with that, she started to spank me, her hand landing firmly on my diapered bottom. I felt a wave of embarrassment wash over me as I was spanked like a naughty baby, the padding of my diaper doing little to protect me from the sting of her hand.

"Say it, Mikey," she commanded, her voice steady and firm. "Say 'I will use my diaper like a good baby'."

I hesitated, my cheeks burning with humiliation. She spanked me again, harder this time. "Say it, Mikey," she repeated.

"I-I will use my diaper like a good baby," I stammered, my voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, satisfied. "Again."

"I will use my diaper like a good baby," I repeated, my voice louder this time.

She continued to spank me, each smack punctuated by a babyish line that she made me repeat. "I am a baby who uses his diaper." "I will ask Mommy to change my diaper when I need it." "I will not argue with Mommy about using my diaper."

With each spank, I felt myself sinking deeper into the role she had chosen for me. I was her baby, her little Mikey, and I was being punished for my disobedience.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, she finished. I lay there, my diapered bottom stinging and sore, as she gently rubbed my back.

"There, there, Mikey," she cooed, her voice soft and soothing. "You took your punishment so well. Mommy's proud of you."

I felt a strange sense of pride, of accomplishment, at her words. I had pleased her, had done as she asked.

She helped me up, her hands gentle as she steadied me on my feet. She looked down at me, her eyes soft and warm. "Now, Mikey," she said, her voice gentle. "Can you tell Mommy what you've learned today?"

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with unshed tears. "I-I will use my diaper like a good baby," I said, my voice small and uncertain.

She smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "That's right, Mikey," she said, her voice filled with pride. "You're Mommy's good little baby. Now, can you say one more thing for Mommy?"

I hesitated, then nodded.

"Say 'Mommy, I love you'," she said, her voice soft.

I looked up at her, my heart pounding in my chest. "Mommy," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. "I love you." With that she helped me into my new clothes and plastic pants.

And with those words, I felt something shift within me. I was hers, completely and utterly. Her baby, her little Mikey. And as I looked up at her, my eyes filled with love and adoration, I knew that this was just the beginning of our journey together.

 

Chapter 7:

I stood in front of the mirror, my cheeks flushed a bright red as I took in my new attire. The black t-shirt with Blue's Clues cartoons splashed across the front, the shiny blue plastic pants that crinkled loudly with every slight movement—it was all too much. I felt like a oversized toddler, a grotesque parody of childhood. Morgan, however, seemed thrilled.

 

The outfit:

 

"Aww, look at my little baby Mikey," she cooed, clapping her hands together. "All cute and snug in your new outfit. Now, let's get you all settled in your highchair for your yummy food and drinks, okay?"

I wanted to protest, to scream and shout and demand to be let go, but something held me back. A strange, twisted sense of curiosity, perhaps, or maybe just the lingering sting of my spanking, reminding me of what happened when I disobeyed.

She led me to the kitchen, where a highchair sat waiting. It was larger than a normal highchair, clearly modified to accommodate an adult. I balked at the sight of it, but Morgan was having none of it. With a firm hand, she guided me to the chair and helped me climb in, securing the tray in front of me and locking me in place. I tested the restraints, rattling them slightly, but they held fast. I was stuck.

 

The Highchair:

 

Morgan hummed a cheerful tune as she tied a large bib around my neck, securing it tightly before turning to prepare my food. I watched her warily, my eyes never leaving her as she bustled about the kitchen, gathering ingredients and mixing them together.

 

The bib:

 

She returned with a bowl of mushy, unidentifiable food and a large bottle filled with a clear liquid. She set them down on the tray in front of me, then pulled up a chair for herself, sitting down with an expectant look.

"Eat up, Mikey," she said, her voice firm yet gentle. "You need to keep up your strength. And drink all of your ba-ba, okay? Mommy made it special, just for you."

 

The food:

 

The Bottle:

 

I eyed the bowl warily, poking at the strange concoction with the spoon she'd given me. It smelled vaguely like oatmeal, but with an underlying tang that I couldn't quite place. The bottle, meanwhile, seemed to be filled with nothing more than water, but something about the way Morgan was looking at me made me wonder if there was more to it than that.

As I hesitantly took a bite of the food, Morgan watched me closely, her eyes never leaving my face. I felt a strange sensation in my stomach, a warmth that spread through me, making me feel slightly dizzy. I shook it off, attributing it to nerves, and took a sip from the bottle. The water tasted slightly sweet, with a strange aftertaste that I couldn't quite place.

Morgan smiled encouragingly, urging me to drink more. I complied, not wanting to upset her, but with each sip, the strange sensation in my stomach grew stronger. I began to feel cramps, my intestines twisting and churning uncomfortably. I squirmed in my seat, trying to alleviate the discomfort, but it only grew stronger.

As I finished the last of the bottle, I realized with a sudden, horrifying clarity what Morgan had done. The food, the drink—they'd been spiked, filled with something designed to make me use my diaper. I looked up at her, my eyes wide with betrayal, but she simply smiled, her eyes filled with a sickening, twisted love.

"There, there, Mikey," she said, her voice soft and soothing. "You'll feel better soon, I promise. Just let it happen, okay? Let Mommy take care of you."

I felt a wave of panic wash over me as I realized what was about to happen. I had to escape, had to find a way out of this twisted nightmare. But with the tray locked in front of me and the restraints holding me firmly in place, I was trapped, helpless to do anything but wait for the inevitable.

As the cramps grew stronger, I knew that I had to act fast. I had to find a way out of this highchair, out of this house, out of this twisted game that Morgan was playing. But with each passing moment, as the pressure in my bowels grew stronger, I knew that time was running out. I had to escape, and I had to do it soon. But how?

 

 

Chapter 8:

As I sat in the highchair, I begged Morgan to let me go potty in the toilet. "Please, Morgan," I pleaded, my voice strained with desperation. "I can't hold it in much longer. Just let me use the bathroom like a normal person."

She turned to me, her eyes narrowing as she wagged a disapproving finger. "Now, Mikey, you know better than that. Mommy said you're to use your diaper like a good baby. If you ask again, you'll get another spanking."

I squirmed in my seat, the pressure in my bowels building to an unbearable level. I tried to hold it in, to will my body into submission, but it was a losing battle. Morgan watched me, her expression growing more and more irritated as she saw my resistance.

"Fine," she snapped, her voice sharp and cold. "If you won't listen to Mommy, then Mommy will make you listen. You will use that diaper like a baby, Mikey. And after your dinner, I'll give you a spanking to remind you who's in charge here."

"Please, Morgan," I begged, tears stinging my eyes. "Please, don't make me do this. I can't—I won't—"

She cut me off with a harsh laugh, her eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. "You can and you will, Mikey. You're my baby now, and babies use diapers. Now, be a good little boy and let it out. The sooner you do, the sooner we can get on with our night."

I shook my head, my body trembling with the effort of holding back. But Morgan was relentless. She stood over me, her eyes boring into mine, her voice a constant, nagging reminder of what she wanted, what she demanded.

"Come on, Mikey," she coaxed, her voice a sickening sing-song. "Let it out for Mommy. Let me see my baby boy use his diaper like a good little boy."

 

Chapter 9:

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with defiance and desperation. I clenched my muscles tight, trying to hold back the inevitable, trying to maintain some semblance of control. "No, Morgan," I grunted, my voice strained. "I won't do it. I won't use the diaper. You can't make me."

Morgan's eyes flashed, her smile fading, replaced by a look of cold determination. "Oh, Mikey," she said, her voice like ice. "You really think you can defy Mommy? You think you can win this battle?"

I squirmed in the highchair, my body tense, my muscles cramping with the effort of holding back. I shook my head, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "No," I panted. "You can't make me. I won't."

Morgan's lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes narrowing as she looked down at me. "Fine, Mikey," she said, her voice sharp and cold. "You want to play it that way? Then Mommy will make you go. And then, my dear, you'll get a spanking you'll never forget, right there in your nice, full diaper."

She turned away, her heels clicking sharply on the kitchen floor as she walked to the counter. I watched her warily, my heart pounding in my chest as she opened a drawer and pulled out a small, dark bottle. She turned back to me, her eyes glinting with a twisted delight as she held up the bottle, shaking it gently.

"You know what this is, Mikey?" she asked, her voice soft and dangerous. "This is Mommy's little helper. A few drops of this in your ba-ba, and you'll be filling that diaper in no time."

I shook my head, my eyes wide with horror. "No, Morgan," I begged, my voice trembling. "Please, don't. You can't—"

She cut me off with a sharp laugh, her eyes gleaming with a sickening triumph. "Oh, Mikey," she said, her voice a twisted parody of gentle concern. "Mommy can do whatever she wants. And right now, Mommy wants you to use that diaper like a good little baby. And you will, Mikey. One way or another."

With that, she unscrewed the cap of the bottle, her eyes never leaving mine as she tipped it over, letting a few drops of the dark liquid fall into my bottle. She swirled it gently, her eyes gleaming with a twisted delight as she watched the liquid mix with the water.

I looked up at her, my heart pounding in my chest, my body trembling with a mix of fear and desperation. I knew I had to hold out, had to resist, but as she held the bottle up to my lips, her eyes gleaming with a sickening triumph, I knew that this was one battle I couldn't win. But even so, I wouldn't go down without a fight. I pursed my lips shut, refusing to drink. Morgan simply smiled, pinching my nose until I gasped for air, and she poured the contents down my throat. The twisted game continued, and I was her unwilling pawn, trapped in a highchair, trapped in a body that was quickly betraying me.

The liquid burned as it slid down my throat, a bitter, acrid taste that made me want to gag. I tried to spit it out, but Morgan's grip was tight, her fingers pinching my nose, forcing me to swallow. I coughed, my eyes watering as the last of the tainted water slid down my throat.

Within seconds, my stomach began to cramp, a sharp, insistent pain that doubled me over in the highchair. I looked up at Morgan, my eyes wide with panic. "What... what did you do to me?" I gasped, my body trembling with the sudden, violent onslaught of discomfort.

Morgan smiled, her eyes gleaming with a sickening delight. "Just a little something to help Mommy's baby use his diaper," she cooed, her voice a twisted parody of gentle concern. "It won't be long now, sweetie. Just a few more minutes, and you'll be filling that diaper like a good little baby."

I shook my head, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps as I tried to hold back the inevitable. I squirmed in the highchair, my body tense, my muscles cramping with the effort of maintaining control. "No," I panted. "I won't. I won't do it."

Morgan's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a twisted triumph as she began to coo, her voice a soft, singsong sound that made my stomach churn. "Oh, come on, Mikey," she cooed. "Don't be shy, sweetie. Just let it out. Let Mommy's little baby use his diaper like a good little boy."

I shook my head, my body trembling with the effort of holding back. "Please," I begged, my voice trembling. "Please, Morgan, stop. I can't... I can't hold it much longer."

Morgan's smile never wavered, her eyes never leaving mine as she began to massage my tummy, her fingers gentle but insistent. "Oh, don't be silly, Mikey," she cooed. "Just relax, sweetie. Just let it out. Let Mommy's little baby use his diaper like he's supposed to."

I shook my head, my body trembling, my muscles cramping as I tried to hold back the inevitable. But it was no use. I could feel it coming, a wet, messy betrayal that I couldn't stop. "Please," I begged, my voice a broken whisper. "Please, Morgan, don't make me do this."

But Morgan just smiled, her eyes gleaming with a sickening triumph as she continued to coo, her voice a soft, singsong sound that filled my ears, blocking out everything but the inevitable betrayal of my own body. "That's it, Mikey," she cooed. "Just let it out, sweetie. Just let Mommy's little baby use his diaper like a good little boy..."

I clenched my fists, my body trembling as I tried to hold back, but it was no use. I could feel it coming, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I looked up at Morgan, my eyes filled with a mix of desperation and defeat as I felt my body betray me, the inevitable mess filling my diaper as Morgan cooed and clapped, her eyes gleaming with a twisted, victorious delight.

Chapter 10:

With her coos becoming worse, my body gave into release and couldn't stop it. She rubbed my tummy and cooed at me as everything emptied into the diaper. I started to cry, but she just cooed more, her voice a sickeningly sweet symphony to my humiliation. I could feel every release loading into my diaper, the warmth spreading, the mess engulfing me. I couldn't stop pooping, and once it finally came to an end, I felt the pee just release into my diaper, the final insult to my dignity.

Morgan's eyes gleamed with a twisted satisfaction as she looked down at me, her baby. "Good baby, Mikey," she cooed, her voice a soft, singsong sound that made my stomach churn. "But you still need to be punished for resisting using it."

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with tears, my body trembling with humiliation and defeat. "Please," I begged, my voice a broken whisper. "Please, Morgan, no more. I can't take any more."

But Morgan just smiled, her eyes gleaming with a sickening delight as she began to speak to me like a baby. "Oh, come on, Mikey," she cooed. "Don't be silly, sweetie. You know you deserve to be punished, don't you?"

I shook my head, my body trembling, but Morgan just smiled, her eyes never leaving mine as she began to speak to me in baby talk, her voice a soft, singsong sound that filled my ears, blocking out everything but my humiliation.

"Now, Mikey, repeat after Mommy," she cooed, her eyes gleaming with a twisted delight. "I am a little baby who pooped in his diaper."

I shook my head, my body trembling, but Morgan's grip tightened, her fingers pinching my chin, forcing me to look up at her. "Say it, Mikey," she demanded, her voice a soft, singsong sound that belied the steel in her eyes.

I took a deep breath, my body trembling as I forced the words out, my voice a broken whisper. "I... I am a little baby who pooped in his diaper."

Morgan's smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a twisted triumph as she continued to coo, her voice a soft, singsong sound that filled my ears, blocking out everything but my humiliation. "Good baby, Mikey," she cooed. "Now say, 'I am a little baby who peed in his diaper.'"

I took a deep breath, my body trembling as I forced the words out, my voice a broken whisper. "I... I am a little baby who peed in his diaper."

Morgan's smile was a sickeningly sweet sight, her eyes gleaming with a twisted triumph as she continued to coo, her voice a soft, singsong sound that filled my ears, blocking out everything but my humiliation. "Good baby, Mikey," she cooed. "Now say, 'I am a little baby who needs to be changed by his Mommy.'"

I took a deep breath, my body trembling as I forced the words out, my voice a broken whisper. "I... I am a little baby who needs to be changed by his Mommy."

Morgan's smile was a sickeningly sweet sight, her eyes gleaming with a twisted triumph as she looked down at me, her baby. "Good baby, Mikey," she cooed. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, sweetie. Mommy's got a nice, warm bath ready for you."

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with tears, my body trembling with humiliation and defeat as she began to undo the straps of the highchair, her eyes never leaving mine, her voice a soft, singsong sound that filled my ears, blocking out everything but my humiliation and the inevitable punishment to come.

 

 

Chapter 11:

Morgan led me by the hand, her grip firm yet gentle, as if she were guiding a toddler taking their first steps. Every time I took a step, I could feel my accident squishing in the diaper, a grim reminder of my humiliation. The smell was overwhelming, a constant assault on my senses, but Morgan didn't seem to mind. She hummed a soft, sweet tune as she led me back to the chair from earlier—the one where she had spanked me.

She sat down and put me over her lap, her hand rubbing gentle circles on my back. "Now, Mikey," she cooed, her voice a sickeningly sweet symphony. "It's time for your punishment, sweetie. You get 75 spankings for being such a naughty baby."

I whimpered, my body trembling in anticipation of the pain. Morgan's hand came down hard on my diapered bottom, the sound of the impact filling the room. I gasped, my body jerking from the sting.

"Count them, Mikey," she demanded, her voice still soft and singsong. "And repeat after me, 'I am a naughty baby who needs to be punished.'"

I took a deep breath, my voice shaking as I forced the words out. "O-one. I... I am a naughty baby who needs to be punished."

Her hand came down again, another hard spank. I gasped, the words tumbling from my lips. "T-two. I am a naughty baby who needs to be punished."

Morgan continued to spank me, her hand coming down in a steady rhythm, each impact sending a jolt of pain through my body. I counted each one, repeating the humiliating words after every spank. The tears streamed down my face, my body trembling with each impact.

At spank number 50, Morgan paused, her hand rubbing gentle circles on my back again. "You're doing so well, Mikey," she cooed. "Now, let's change it up a bit. Repeat after me, 'I am a naughty baby who needs his Mommy to spank him.'"

I took a deep, shuddering breath, my body aching from the spanking. I forced the words out, my voice broken and defeated. "I... I am a naughty baby who needs his Mommy to spank him."

Morgan's hand came down again, another hard spank. I gasped, the count and the words tumbling from my lips. "F-fifty-one. I am a naughty baby who needs his Mommy to spank him."

She continued the spanking, her hand coming down in the same steady rhythm. I counted each one, repeating the humiliating words after every spank. My body was a mess of pain and humiliation, my mind a fog of defeat.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the 75th spank came down. I gasped out the count and the words, my body shaking with sobs. Morgan's hand rubbed gentle circles on my back again, her voice soft and soothing.

"There, there, Mikey," she cooed. "All done, sweetie. You took your punishment so well. Mommy's proud of you."

She helped me up, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction as she looked down at me, her baby. "Now, let's get you cleaned up, sweetie," she said, her voice a soft, singsong sound. "Mommy's got a nice, warm bath ready for you."

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with tears, my body aching and throbbing. I knew better than to protest, to beg for mercy. I was her baby, her plaything, and she was far from done with me. As she led me to the bathroom, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread, wondering what fresh humiliation awaited me in the bath as the stench of my accident wafted through the air.

 

Chapter 12:

The tears still stung my eyes, and the sting of the spanking still throbbed on my bottom. Morgan led me back to the changing table, her grip as gentle as ever, as if she hadn't just turned my ass a fiery red. She lifted me onto the table, her eyes gleaming with that twisted satisfaction as she looked down at my soiled diaper.

"Let's get you cleaned up, sweetie," she cooed, her voice a soft, sickeningly sweet symphony. She peeled off the diaper, her nose not even wrinkling at the sight and smell. I looked away, my face burning with humiliation as she wiped me clean, her hands gentle yet firm.

She wrapped a fluffy towel around me, her eyes never leaving mine as she lifted me into her arms. I felt like a fucking toddler, carried off to the bathroom, the warm, bubbly water waiting for me. She lowered me into the bath, the warmth enveloping me, the bubbles tickling my skin.

Morgan grabbed a soft cloth, soaping it up as she began to wash me. She hummed that same soft, sweet tune, her hands rubbing the cloth over my body, cleaning every inch of me. I sat there, my body aching, my mind a fog of humiliation, as she bathed me like a  baby.

She lifted me out of the bath, wrapping me back up in the towel. She carried me back to the nursery, laying me down on the changing table. She dried me off, her hands rubbing gently over my skin. She grabbed a booster pad and a safari print diaper, her eyes never leaving mine as she slid the booster pad into the diaper.

 

The Safari Diaper:

 

"So my little baby doesn't have a leak when he sleeps tonight," she said, her voice a soft, singsong sound. She powdered me, the cool powder a stark contrast to the warmth of the bath. She lifted my legs, sliding the thick diaper underneath me, fastening it tightly around my waist. It was way thicker than the one from earlier, the crinkle of the plastic loud and humiliating.

I lay there, my body aching, my mind a mess of defeat and humiliation. Morgan leaned down, her lips brushing softly against my forehead. "All clean and ready for bed, sweetie," she cooed, her voice a soft, sickeningly sweet symphony.

She lifted me into her arms, carrying me over to the crib. She laid me down, her eyes never leaving mine as she pulled a soft, fluffy blanket over me. I looked up at her, my eyes filled with tears, my body aching and throbbing. I knew better than to protest, to beg for mercy. I was her baby, her plaything, and she was far from done with me. As she turned off the light, the room plunging into darkness, I couldn't help but feel a sense of dread, wondering what fresh humiliation awaited me in the morning.

As the darkness of the nursery enveloped me, I lay there in the crib, my heart racing and my mind swirling with thoughts of escape. The soft blanket cocooned me, but it felt more like a trap than a comfort. I could still feel the sting of humiliation from earlier, the overwhelming sensation of being utterly powerless. My body ached, but it was the emotional turmoil that truly gnawed at me, a relentless reminder of my situation.

I stared at the bars of the crib, a prison of my own making. Thoughts raced through my mind, each one more desperate than the last. If I could just slide the latch down and make a run for it, I could escape this twisted nightmare. I could make it home, back to a life where I had control, where I wasn’t treated like a helpless child. The idea of freedom ignited a flicker of hope within me, a small flame that I clung to as I plotted my escape.

Just as I began to gather my resolve, the door creaked open, and Morgan stepped back into the nursery. My heart sank as I caught sight of her. She was holding something in her hands, and I could feel the dread pooling in my stomach. I had barely managed to convince myself that I could escape when she approached the crib with a smile that sent shivers down my spine.

“Look what I have for you, sweetie!” she chirped, her voice dripping with that sickly-sweet affection that made my skin crawl. In her hands were a pair of footed pajamas adorned with cheerful Elmo prints and a pair of shiny plastic pants that crinkled as she moved. I felt my heart drop further into my stomach. There was no escaping now.

 

The Plastic Pants:

The Feet Pjs:

 

 

Before I could even voice my protests, she leaned over the crib, her eyes sparkling with delight. “Time to get you all snug and cozy for bed!” she exclaimed. I wanted to scream, to fight back, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I lay there, frozen, as she slid the plastic pants over my already thick diaper. The sound of the crinkling fabric filled the air, an unmistakable reminder of my current state.

“Such a cute little baby!” Morgan cooed, her fingers dancing over the soft fabric of the pajamas. I squirmed as she pulled them over my legs, zipping them up the back with a swift motion. I felt the fabric hug my body tightly, the snug fit a constant reminder of my helplessness. But it was the gloves that truly sent my heart racing. They were attached to the zipper, preventing me from using my hands to escape or fight back. I was utterly trapped.

 

The gloves:

 

As if sensing my growing panic, Morgan leaned in closer, her face just inches from mine. “Don’t worry, darling. This is all part of the fun! You’ll be safe and sound in your crib, and I’ll be right here to take care of you,” she said, her voice a soothing lullaby that did nothing to calm my racing heart. I wanted to scream, to tell her that I wasn’t her baby, that I didn’t want this, but the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I felt tears prick at the corners of my eyes, a mixture of frustration and despair.

With a gentle hand, Morgan turned on the mobile that hung above my crib. The soft, twinkling lights danced across the walls, and a sweet melody began to play, filling the room with a lullaby that felt both enchanting and suffocating. I lay there, my heart pounding in my chest, as the mobile spun slowly above me, casting shadows that flickered like my hopes of escape.

“Just relax, baby,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. “Let the music soothe you to sleep.” I could see the satisfaction in her eyes, the way she reveled in my helplessness. It was as if she took pleasure in my despair, and I could feel the weight of her gaze pressing down on me.

I turned my head away from her, focusing on the mobile as it spun above me. Each note of the lullaby felt like a cruel reminder of my situation, a melody designed to lull me into submission. I fought against the urge to close my eyes, to give in to the soft embrace of sleep, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The exhaustion from the day weighed heavily on me, and the warmth of the pajamas wrapped around me like a cocoon.

“Goodnight, sweetie,” Morgan said, her voice a soft whisper as she leaned down to kiss my forehead. I felt her breath against my skin, and I shivered at the intimacy of the gesture. It was a reminder that I was hers, that I belonged to her in this twisted game. I wanted to push her away, to tell her to leave me alone, but the words felt trapped in my throat.

As she stepped back, the nursery fell into a heavy silence, the only sound the gentle lull of the mobile and the soft crinkle of my diaper. I lay there, my heart racing as I fought against the urge to fall asleep. I needed to stay awake, to keep my mind sharp, to remember my plan. If I could just hold on a little longer, I could find a way out.

Minutes turned into what felt like hours as I tossed and turned in the crib, the pajamas and plastic pants feeling like a second skin, suffocating and constricting. I could still hear the faint echo of Morgan’s voice in my mind, her sweet coos and gentle reassurances. But I was determined not to let her win. I couldn’t allow myself to become the baby she wanted.

Just as I began to drift into a restless sleep, the door creaked open again. My heart raced as I turned to see Morgan standing in the doorway, a shadowy figure against the light from the hallway. She stepped inside, her eyes glinting with a predatory gleam.

“Did I hear my little one stirring?” she asked, her voice low and teasing. I felt a jolt of panic surge through me. I had to act fast. I had to find a way to escape.

But as she approached the crib, I realized that my time was running out. The moment of freedom I had envisioned was slipping further away, and all I could do was lie there, trapped in a world of her making, waiting for the next move in this twisted game.

 

Chapter 13:

As Morgan approached the crib, I could see the silhouette of a bottle in her hand. She wasn't here to just check on me; she had another twisted plan in mind. I wanted to curl up and disappear, but I was trapped in the open, a captive audience to her perverse delight.

"I see you're still awake, sweetie," she cooed, her voice grating on my nerves. "Morgan has something to help you sleep tight." She revealed the bottle, filled with a strange, pink liquid. I eyed it warily, knowing that whatever it was, it couldn't be good.

Before I could protest, she deftly uncapped the bottle and brought it to my lips. "Drink up, baby," she insisted, tipping the bottle so that the liquid dripped into my mouth. I tried to spit it out, but she held my chin firmly, forcing me to swallow. The medicine had a sickly-sweet taste that made my stomach churn.

"What is this?" I demanded, my voice hoarse with exhaustion and fear.

Morgan smiled, her eyes glinting with a malicious glee. "Just a little something to help you sleep and... well, you'll see in the morning." Her vagueness sent a shiver down my spine. I wanted to fight back, to demand answers, but the medicine was already taking effect. My limbs felt heavy, and my eyelids began to droop.

But Morgan wasn't done yet. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a pacifier, the kind meant for babies much younger than the age she was trying to force me into. I shook my head weakly, trying to refuse, but she simply grinned and popped it into my mouth. Before I could spit it out, she had secured it around my head with a fastening strap. I was helpless, utterly at her mercy.

"There you go, sweetie," she murmured, her voice dripping with false affection. "Now you look just like a little angel."

Through the haze of the medicine, I saw her reach for the top of the crib. With a clicking sound, she locked it in place, ensuring that I couldn't escape even if I managed to fight off the drug-induced sleep. I was well and truly trapped.

"Night-night, baby," she sang softly, her voice fading as my eyes grew heavier. I tried to fight it, to keep my wits about me, but it was no use. The medicine pulled me under, and I found myself drifting off to sleep, the pacifier bobbing gently in my mouth.

As I succumbed to the darkness, I could have sworn I heard Morgan whisper, "Sweet dreams, my little bedwetter." But I couldn't be sure, not as the world faded away and I was left alone with my dreams, unaware of what the morning would bring.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow across the room. It was a warm, inviting light, but it felt wrong in this context. I blinked against the brightness, my mind still foggy from the effects of the pink liquid Morgan had forced upon me. As my eyes adjusted, I realized I was still in the crib, the bars looming around me like the bars of a prison cell. A shiver ran through me as I remembered the events of the previous night.

I shifted slightly, and that’s when I felt it—a thick, uncomfortable sensation between my legs. My heart raced as I instinctively reached down, feeling the bulkiness of what I now recognized as a diaper. Panic surged within me. Had I really... wet the bed? My mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of my memory from last night. I couldn’t recall anything after Morgan had forced the medicine on me. 

Just then, I heard the soft click of the crib’s latch. Morgan appeared, her expression one of feigned sweetness, as if she were a caregiver tending to a child. “Good morning, sleepyhead!” she chirped, her voice dripping with that same tone of false affection that made my skin crawl. “Did you sleep well?”

I opened my mouth to respond, but no words came out. Instead, I felt a knot tightening in my stomach as I tried to process the reality of my situation. Morgan approached the crib, her hands reaching toward me. “Let’s get you up, shall we?” 

With surprising ease, she lifted me from the crib, cradling me in her arms as if I were a toddler. I squirmed, trying to break free, but her grip was firm. “You’re so heavy in the morning, baby,” she teased, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction.

She set me down on my feet, but I immediately felt unsteady, the thick padding of the diaper throwing off my balance. I looked down in horror, realizing that I was indeed wearing a diaper that felt not only thicker but also strangely warm. My heart sank as the implications of that warmth hit me—had I really lost control while under the influence of the drug?

“Let’s get you changed,” Morgan said, her tone now more businesslike. She took my hand, leading me toward a changing table that loomed ominously in the corner of the room. “I know you don’t like this part, but it’s necessary. We can’t have you running around in a soggy diaper, can we?”

I wanted to protest, to fight back, but the words caught in my throat. I felt utterly powerless as she guided me to the table. I could feel my cheeks burning with humiliation, and I wanted nothing more than to disappear. “Please, Morgan,” I finally managed to say, my voice trembling. “I don’t want to do this. I can change myself.”

Morgan chuckled softly, as if my plea were nothing more than the innocent whine of a toddler. “Oh, sweetie, you’re still too little for that. Now lay down for me, okay?” 

With a mixture of dread and resignation, I complied, lying back on the changing table. I felt utterly exposed as she unzipped the pajamas I had been wearing, pulling the fabric down to reveal the diaper beneath. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I could block out the reality of what was happening.

“Let’s see how you did last night,” she said, her fingers probing the diaper. I jolted at the unexpected touch, my body reacting instinctively to the invasion of my personal space. “Hey now, it’s just a check-up,” she soothed, though I could hear the amusement in her voice. “You don’t want to get all fussy on me, do you?”

I opened my eyes, staring up at the ceiling as if it held the answers to my predicament. “I didn’t do anything,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t wet the bed.”

Morgan’s expression turned mock-serious. “Oh, but you did, sweetie. You’re all wet.” She lifted her hand, and I could see the dampness on her fingers. My heart sank further as I processed her words. How could this be happening? When did I lose control? 

“Let’s get you all cleaned up and into something fresh,” she continued, her tone deceptively gentle. “We have a big day ahead of us.” 

I shot up, panic flooding my system. “No! I can’t go out like this! Please, Morgan, don’t make me!” My voice cracked, the desperation spilling out of me. The thought of being seen like this—dressed in a diaper, unable to care for myself—was unbearable. 

Morgan’s eyes sparkled with a mix of delight and authority. “Oh, but you will, Mikey. You’re my little one now, and little ones don’t get to make the big decisions. You just have to trust me.” 

She pushed me back down gently but firmly, her hands moving with practiced ease as she began to unfasten the diaper. I felt a wave of shame wash over me, my body tensing in resistance. “No, no, no!” I whimpered, but she only shushed me, as if I were a child throwing a tantrum.

“Just relax, sweetie. I promise it’ll be over before you know it,” she said, her voice soothing yet commanding. I felt the cool air hit my skin as she removed the wet diaper, and I turned my head away, unable to face the reality of my situation.

“See? All clean now,” she said, her tone brightening as she reached for a fresh diaper. “This one will keep you nice and dry for our outing. You wouldn’t want to be uncomfortable while we’re out shopping, would you?”

 

The Diaper:

 

I let out a choked sob, the absurdity of the situation crashing down upon me. I was trapped in a nightmare, one that I couldn’t wake up from. “Please… I don’t want to go out like this…” I pleaded, my voice breaking.

Morgan’s eyes softened for a moment, but then her smile returned, wide and unwavering. “Oh, sweetie, you’ll learn to love it. Just think of all the fun we’ll have together. Now, let’s get you dressed for the day!” 

As she expertly fastened the fresh diaper around me, I felt a mixture of anger and helplessness. I was at her mercy, trapped in a game I never agreed to play. The reality of my situation began to sink in deeper with every passing moment. I was no longer just Mike; I was her baby, and she intended to take me out into the world as such.

“No, please…” I whimpered again, but Morgan was already pulling a bright, childish outfit from the nearby dresser. It was a onesie, adorned with cartoon animals, and I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks as she held it up for me to see. 
 

The onesie:

 

“Just wait until you see how cute you look in this!” she exclaimed, her excitement palpable. I felt like I was being swallowed by a tidal wave of dread, knowing that I was powerless to stop her from dressing me up like a child. 

As she pulled the onesie over my head, I felt the fabric envelop me, sealing my fate as her little one. The snap closures at the bottom clicked into place, and I knew that there was no escaping this new reality. I was no longer just a boy; I was her baby, and she was determined to show the world. 

“Now, let’s get you some shoes and a little hat,” she said, her voice cheerful as she rummaged through the drawers. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the reality of what was happening, but the sound of her laughter and the rustle of fabric was inescapable.

 

Shoes:

Hat:

I took a deep breath, steeling myself for whatever was to come. I couldn’t let her see how much this affected me. I had to find a way to fight back, to reclaim my identity and escape this twisted game. But for now, I was at the mercy of Morgan, the woman who had turned my world upside down.

 

Chapter 14:

The world outside the house seemed impossibly bright and vibrant as Morgan wheeled me out into the open air. The sun was high, casting a warm glow that felt foreign against my skin, a stark contrast to the chill of the humiliation that clung to me. I had been dressed like a toddler, complete with a bright onesie that felt more like a costume than clothing, and now I was being strapped into a stroller that was far too large for any child, let alone an adult. 
 

Stroller:

 

“Here we go!” Morgan chirped, her voice filled with a sickening enthusiasm that made my stomach churn. She adjusted the straps around my waist, ensuring I was securely fastened. I squirmed in discomfort, but there was no escaping this. I was trapped, both physically and mentally, in this absurd situation.

“Why do they even make strollers this big?” I thought bitterly as I glanced around, my heart pounding with anxiety. The world felt so exposed from this vantage point, where I was seated like some oversized infant. I could see the curious glances from passersby, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. 

Morgan, seemingly oblivious to my turmoil, handed me a brightly colored sippy cup. “Drink up, sweetie! You need to stay hydrated,” she encouraged, her smile wide and genuine. I eyed the cup warily, the rubber spout taunting me. I was thirsty, having not had anything to drink since the night before, but the thought of drinking from a sippy cup made my skin crawl. 

“Just do it,” I told myself, feeling the weight of defeat settle heavily on my shoulders. I took the cup and lifted it to my lips, the sweet juice flooding my mouth. I could almost hear the mocking laughter of my own mind as I drank, the reality of my situation sinking deeper with every sip. 

Morgan began to push the stroller, and I could feel the momentum carry us forward. The streets were alive with activity, and I was acutely aware of every person we passed. I felt like a spectacle, a living, breathing exhibit on display for all to see. 

As we rolled down the sidewalk, I caught glimpses of people’s faces—some looked amused, others confused, and a few even sympathetic. I wanted to sink into the seat and disappear, but that was impossible. I was on display, the unwilling participant in a twisted game that I had never signed up for.

Suddenly, a little boy, perhaps around six or seven, approached us with wide eyes filled with curiosity. “Why is he dressed like a baby?” he asked, pointing directly at me. My heart sank further at the realization that I was the subject of his inquiry.

Morgan knelt down to his level, her voice dripping with a condescending sweetness. “Oh, he’s just a little one who doesn’t know how to be an adult yet,” she explained, her tone patronizing. I wanted to scream, to tell the boy that I was not a baby, that I was trapped in this nightmare against my will. 

The boy’s gaze shifted to me, and I could see the gears turning in his mind. “But he looks like he’s about to pee himself!” he exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of concern and amusement. I felt my face heat up in humiliation. 

“No, I’m not!” I protested weakly, but my words fell flat in the face of the truth. The pressure in my bladder was building, and I could feel the twitching in my legs that the boy had noticed. 

Morgan, ever the attentive caretaker, smiled at the boy. “Sometimes, little ones like him need a little help with their bodies,” she said, her tone dismissive of my discomfort. “It’s okay; he’ll learn in time.”

As if on cue, my body betrayed me. The pressure in my bladder became too much to contain, and I felt a warm rush envelop me. I was wetting myself—just like a baby. The sound of the liquid absorbing into the diaper was impossibly loud in my ears, and I could feel the boy’s eyes on me, wide with fascination.

“Oh no, look!” he exclaimed, pointing at me with glee. “He really did pee himself!” 

I wanted to crawl into a hole and disappear. My heart raced, and I could feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes. Morgan, however, seemed unfazed. She simply chuckled, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. “See? It’s just what little ones do. Nothing to be ashamed of!”

The boy giggled, and I could hear the laughter of other people nearby. I felt like a complete fool, exposed and vulnerable in my humiliation. I wanted to shout, to fight back against this absurdity, but all I could do was sit there, strapped into the stroller, and let the world witness my degradation.

“Let’s get you changed, little one,” Morgan said, her voice soothing as she pushed the stroller forward. The little boy waved goodbye, still giggling as he ran off to join his friends. I wanted to scream at him to stop laughing, to stop pointing, but I was powerless. 

As we continued down the street, I felt the weight of the diaper pressing against me, a constant reminder of my loss of control. I could feel the stares of strangers, their eyes boring into me as I sat there, a grown man dressed like a child, unable to escape the reality of my situation. 

Morgan seemed oblivious to my turmoil, her focus solely on getting to our destination. I glanced around, desperately searching for an escape, but there was none. I was trapped in this twisted world that Morgan had created, and I had no idea how to break free. 

With every turn of the stroller, I felt the walls closing in, my identity slipping further away. I was no longer Mike; I was just a baby, a plaything for Morgan’s amusement. And as we rolled onward, I could only wonder how much further she intended to take me down this path.

The stroller wheels rumbled over the pavement as Morgan pushed me towards our destination. The wet diaper clung to my skin, a constant reminder of my humiliation and loss of control. I felt a growing pressure in my bowels, a sensation that was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. It was as if my body was no longer my own, my control slipping away with each passing moment.

As we approached the store, I looked up to see the sign: "My Inner Baby." A shiver ran down my spine as I realized the implications of the name. Morgan parked the stroller and leaned down to coo at me, "Here we are, sweetie! Let's get you all the supplies you need to be a happy, comfortable baby."

She unstrapped me from the stroller, and I waddled awkwardly beside her, the thick diaper making it difficult to walk normally. As we entered the store, a cheerful bell chimed overhead, announcing our arrival. A friendly-looking lady approached us, her eyes flicking from Morgan to me, taking in my disheveled state.

"Hello there!" she chirped, her voice gratingly cheerful. "Do you need help sizing your little one up and getting everything you need for him?"

Morgan smiled, her hand resting possessively on my shoulder. "Yes, thank you. This is Mikey, and he's just starting his journey as my baby. We need all the essentials to make sure he's comfortable and well-cared for."

The lady nodded understandingly, her eyes sparkling with a knowing gleam. "Of course! I'm sure we can find everything you need. Let's start with diapers, shall we?"

She led us down an aisle filled with an overwhelming array of diapers. My heart sank as I took in the sheer variety—different sizes, colors, and patterns, each one more humiliating than the last. The lady gestured to a shelf stocked with brightly colored packages. "These are our newest arrivals—the mega thick Dino diapers. They're perfect for little ones who need that extra bit of protection. Plus, they make it harder for little ones to hide their diapers from others."

Morgan's eyes lit up with excitement. "Oh, those are perfect! I'll take six cases of those."

I wanted to protest, to scream that I didn't need any of this, but the words caught in my throat. Instead, I stood there, helpless and humiliated, as Morgan and the lady discussed my needs as if I weren't even present.

The lady nodded, jotting down notes on a pad. "Excellent choice. Now, let's see what else you might need." She led us further down the aisle, pointing out various items—baby wipes, powder, creams, and even a selection of pacifiers and bottles. I felt a growing sense of dread as Morgan enthusiastically agreed to each suggestion, her eyes gleaming with a twisted delight.

As we reached the end of the aisle, the lady turned to Morgan with a smile. "And of course, you'll need some outfits to keep your little one looking cute and cozy. We have a great selection of onesies, pajamas, and even some adorable little outfits for when you're out and about."

Morgan's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "Oh, that sounds wonderful! Let's see what you have."

The lady led us to another section of the store, where racks of brightly colored, childish clothing stretched out before us. I felt a wave of nausea wash over me as I took in the sight—this was really happening. I was being dressed like a baby, treated like a baby, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

As Morgan and the lady began to sort through the racks, discussing the merits of various outfits, I felt a growing pressure in my bowels. I squirmed uncomfortably, trying to hold back the inevitable, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. I looked up at Morgan, my eyes filled with desperation.

"Morgan, please," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I need to use the bathroom. I can't hold it in much longer."

Morgan turned to me, her eyes narrowing as she shook her head. "No, sweetie, you know the rules. You use your diaper like a good baby. Now, let's find you some cute outfits, okay?"

I felt a wave of panic wash over me as I realized that I couldn't hold it in any longer. The pressure was too great, the need too urgent. I looked around desperately, searching for a way out, but there was none. I was trapped, helpless to do anything but give in to the inevitable.

As Morgan and the lady continued to discuss my new wardrobe, I felt my body betray me once again. The warmth spread through my diaper, the mess engulfing me as I stood there, humiliated and defeated. Tears stung my eyes as I realized that I had truly lost all control, that I was now at the mercy of Morgan and her twisted game.

The lady glanced over at me, her eyes widening slightly as she took in my state. She turned to Morgan with a knowing smile. "It looks like your little one has had a bit of an accident. Would you like me to show you to the changing area so you can get him all cleaned up?"

Morgan smiled, her eyes gleaming with a sickening satisfaction. "That would be wonderful, thank you."

As the lady led us towards the changing area, I felt a growing sense of dread. I knew what was coming next—the humiliation of being changed like a baby, the indignity of having my most intimate needs tended to by someone else. But there was no escaping it now. I was Morgan's baby, and she was determined to keep me that way, no matter the cost.

As we entered the changing area, the reality of my situation hit me like a punch to the gut. I was trapped in this twisted game, and there was no way out. I could only hope that, somehow, I would find a way to reclaim my identity and escape the clutches of Morgan's perverse desires. But for now, I was her baby, and she was in complete control.

Chapter 15:

Morgan had me cleaned up and secured tightly in my new thick mega Dino diaper. I looked down at the bright, childish print, my cheeks burning with embarrassment. I was naked save for the diaper, my clothes nowhere to be found. Morgan took my hand and led me back to the lady, who was waiting with a warm smile.

"He's all set," Morgan chirped, her voice dripping with a sweetness that made my stomach churn. "Do you have any bouncers here? And perhaps something that might help my little one get into a more... suggestible state?"

The lady's eyes sparkled with understanding. "Of course! We have a wonderful selection of bouncers right over here." She led us to a display of colorful, oversized chairs, each one more humiliating than the last. She pointed to one shaped like a giant duck, its bright yellow color almost blinding. "This is our most popular model. It's very comfortable and comes with a built-in pacifier dispenser."

Morgan clapped her hands together, delighted. "Oh, that's perfect! And what about something to help him... relax?"

The lady nodded, leading us to a shelf stocked with various items—stuffed animals, blankets, and even some strange, glowing devices. She picked up a small, fluffy teddy bear with a glowing belly. "This is our Hypno-Bear. It emits a soft, calming glow and plays a gentle lullaby that helps little ones drift off into a deeply suggestible state."

Morgan's eyes widened with excitement. "That's amazing! We'll take both."

As the lady gathered the items, she turned to Morgan with a business-like gleam in her eyes. "You know, we have a proposal for you. We're always looking for new models for our products, and your little one here is just adorable. If he were to model our diapers for our website and store, we could offer you a lifetime supply of baby essentials—absolutely free."

Morgan's face lit up, her eyes gleaming with a mix of greed and delight. "Oh, that sounds wonderful! Mikey would be perfect for that, wouldn't you, sweetie?" She looked down at me, her eyes narrowing slightly, a silent warning in her gaze.

I felt a lump form in my throat, the words catching before I could even attempt to protest. I knew I had no choice in the matter, no say in what happened to me. I was Morgan's baby, her plaything, and she was going to use me however she saw fit.

"Excellent!" The lady beamed, pulling out a contract and a pen. Morgan signed it without a moment's hesitation, sealing my fate. "We can start right away. Let's get some photos of your little one in our newest diaper styles."

Morgan agreed eagerly, and before I knew it, I was posed in the brightly lit photography area, surrounded by props designed to enhance my humiliation. I was made to pose with blocks, with stuffed animals, even with a giant, childish lollipop. Each click of the camera felt like a stab to my dignity, a further descent into the twisted world Morgan had created for me.

As I sat there, posed like a baby, the Hypno-Bear clutched in my arms, its glowing belly beginning to work its magic, I felt a wave of despair wash over me. This was my life now—a life of humiliation, of degradation, of being Morgan's baby. And there was nothing I could do to escape it. But even as the despair threatened to consume me, a small spark of defiance burned within me. I wouldn't give up, not yet. Somehow, someway, I would find a way to reclaim my life and escape the clutches of Morgan's twisted desires. But for now, I was her model baby, and I had to play the part.

As the final click of the camera echoed through the room, the lady turned to Morgan with a smile. "Those shots are going to be absolutely adorable. Now, we can put him in the nap room with his new Hypno-Bear. He can take a little snooze, and we can capture some sweet photos of him asleep."

Morgan's eyes sparkled with a mix of excitement and twisted delight. "That sounds perfect. Lead the way."

I was led to a small, dimly lit room filled with cribs and soft, plush toys. The walls were painted with murals of cartoon animals in various states of sleep. My stomach churned at the sight, a fresh wave of humiliation washing over me. The lady took the Hypno-Bear from my arms and activated it, the soft glow filling the room as a gentle lullaby began to play.

"Now, let's get you all comfy, sweetie," Morgan cooed, lifting me with ease and placing me in one of the oversized cribs. I felt ridiculous, a grown man stuffed into a crib, but there was no use fighting it. I was trapped, both literally and metaphorically, in Morgan's twisted fantasy.

As I lay there, the Hypno-Bear's glow illuminating the crib, I felt my eyelids growing heavy. The lullaby was soft, soothing, and despite my best efforts to resist, I felt myself being pulled under its spell. Morgan and the lady loomed over the crib, their faces a mix of excitement and anticipation.

 

The Hypnosis Bear:

 

"He's fighting it," the lady observed, her voice barely a whisper.

Morgan nodded, a small smirk playing at the corners of her mouth. "He's a stubborn one, but he'll learn. In time, he'll accept his new life."

The words sent a shiver down my spine, a final, desperate attempt to fight the sleep that threatened to consume me. But it was no use. The Hypno-Bear's magic was too strong, and with a final, defeated sigh, I felt myself drifting off into a deep, dreamless sleep.

As my eyes fluttered closed, I heard the soft click of the camera, capturing my helplessness, my humiliation, in stark, unforgiving detail. But there was nothing I could do, no way to fight it. For now, I was Morgan's baby, her plaything, and she was going to use me however she saw fit.

When I finally awoke, the room was dark, the only light coming from the soft glow of the Hypno-Bear. I lay there for a moment, disoriented, before the events of the day came rushing back. I sat up, my head spinning, and looked around the room. I was alone, the other cribs empty, the room eerily silent save for the soft hum of the bear's lullaby.

I tried to stand, but my limbs felt heavy, weak, as if the very fight had been drained from me. I collapsed back onto the mattress, a sense of despair washing over me. Was this my life now? Trapped in a crib, a prisoner to Morgan's twisted desires?

Just as I was about to succumb to the darkness, I heard the soft sound of footsteps approaching. I looked up as Morgan entered the room, her face a picture of maternal concern. "Awake, sweetie? You've been out for hours. The photos are beautiful, by the way. You look like such a sweet, innocent baby when you're asleep."

I shuddered at the thought, my stomach churning with revulsion. But I was too weak to protest, too tired to fight. For now, I was at Morgan's mercy, and she knew it.

"Come on, sweetie," she cooed, reaching into the crib and lifting me out. "Let's get you home. We've got a big day ahead of us tomorrow."

As she carried me out of the room, I caught a glimpse of the lady, standing in the doorway, a satisfied smile on her face. "We'll make sure all your new baby essentials are delivered directly to your house, Morgan," she said, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness.

Morgan beamed at her, gratitude shining in her eyes. "Thank you so much. You have no idea how much this means to me."

And with that, we were off, my fate sealed, my future uncertain. But as I lay there, cradled in Morgan's arms like a helpless infant, I knew one thing for sure—I had to find a way to escape this nightmare. I had to find a way to reclaim my life, my dignity, my very soul. But for now, I was Morgan's baby, and there was no escape from the twisted world she had created for me.
 

 

Chapter 16:

The car ride home was a blur, the streets and houses passing by in a haze as I lay cradled in Morgan's arms, my body still heavy with weakness. Before I knew it, we were pulling into her driveway, the large, imposing house looming before us. Morgan carried me inside, her voice a constant stream of soothing nonsense, as if she were talking to a real baby.

She took me straight upstairs, into a room I hadn't seen before. It was a nursery, complete with a large crib, a changing table, and a rocking chair. The walls were painted a soft blue, with more of those damned cartoon animals frolicking across them. I wanted to scream, to fight, to do something, anything, but my body was still too weak.

Morgan laid me down in the crib, propping the Hypno-Bear up beside me. "Time for another nap, sweetie," she cooed, activating the bear. The soft glow filled the room, the gentle lullaby beginning to play. But this time, there was something different, something more sinister.

As the music played, a voice began to whisper from the bear's speakers, so soft that it was almost imperceptible. "You are a good baby," it whispered, the voice sweet, almost sing-song. "You will use your diapers for everything. Just let it flow out. There is nothing you can do to stop it."

I stiffened, my eyes widening in horror. The voice continued, its words sending a shiver of revulsion down my spine. "You are a diaper messer and wetter. You will also wet and poop your diaper in bed. You’re now a bedwetter and messer, and there is nothing you can do to stop it."

No. No, no, no. I tried to resist, to fight against the words, but they were insidious, wrapping around my mind like a vice. I could feel my body responding, my bladder suddenly full, a strange pressure in my bowels.

"No," I whimpered, my voice barely audible. "No, please..."

But the bear continued, its whispers relentless. "Just let it flow out. You can't stop it. You're a good baby, a wet and messy baby."

I gritted my teeth, trying to hold on, to fight against the urge to just let go. But the bear's whispers were too strong, too persuasive. I could feel my body betraying me, the warmth spreading through my diaper, the sudden, humiliating release of my bowels.

Tears filled my eyes, spilling over and running down my cheeks. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real. But the smell, the warmth, the sheer humiliation of it all told me that it was. I was lying in my own waste, a grown man reduced to a helpless baby, all thanks to Morgan and her twisted games.

As the bear's whispers continued, I felt myself drifting off, my body exhausted, my mind broken. The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me was Morgan's voice, soft and sweet, like a mother cooing to her child.

"That's it, sweetie," she whispered. "Just let go. Mommy's here. Mommy will always take care of you."

The first thing that hit me when I woke up was the smell. It was rancid, a thick, choking fog that made me gag. I tried to move, to escape it, but as I shifted, I felt it. The mushy, warm mess in the back of my diaper. I froze, horror washing over me as the reality of my situation came crashing down.

I tried to climb out of the crib, my limbs still shaky and weak, but as I stood, I felt it again. The warmth spreading through my diaper, the release of my bladder, and I couldn't stop it. I stood there, in that soft blue room, the cartoon animals mocking me from the walls, as I pissed myself like a fucking toddler.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real. But the stench, the warmth, the sheer fucking humiliation of it all told me that it was. I was standing there, a grown man, in a fucking diaper, covered in my own piss and shit.

Morgan and that fucking bear had broken me. They'd taken away my control, my dignity, my very fucking humanity. I was just an adult baby now, a pathetic, helpless mess.

I looked down at myself, at the soggy diaper, the cute little baby outfit, and I wanted to scream. I wanted to rip it all off, to burn it, to purge this nightmare from my life. But I knew I couldn't. I was too weak, too broken. Morgan had made sure of that.

So I stood there, in that fucking nursery, in my own filth, and I cried. I cried like a fucking baby, because that's what I was now. That's what Morgan had turned me into. And I didn't know if I'd ever be able to escape this hell.

Chapter 17:

Weeks had passed since that dreadful morning when I woke up in my own filth. Time had blurred, days merging into nights, and all I knew now was the routine of eating, sleeping, shitting, and pissing. The fights, the struggles, the desperation to escape, they were all distant memories, like echoes of a past life.

Morgan walked into the playpen, her nose wrinkling at the smell. But it wasn't disgust on her face, it was... satisfaction. She looked down at me, her eyes soft, her voice even softer. "Oh, my little Mikey," she cooed, "have you made a little accident?"

I looked up at her, my pacifier bobbing in my mouth as I giggled. Giggled, But it was like my body, my mind, weren't my own anymore. They were Morgan's, and she'd molded me into exactly what she wanted.

Her business was booming. My photos, my videos, they were gold to the those who were into this sort of thing. Morgan would never have to worry about money again, not with her little baby Mikey as her star attraction.

She reached down, tickling my chin. "Time for a change, my little baby Mikey," she sang, her voice a sickeningly sweet melody. I gurgled, kicking my chubby legs in the air, my dirty diaper squelching with the movement.

Morgan unstrapped the diaper, clucking her tongue at the mess. "Oh, Mikey," she said, laughing, "you've made quite the mess, haven't you?" She cleaned me up, her touch gentle, her eyes loving. It was twisted, but it was my reality now.

As she slid a fresh diaper under me, powdering my ass and fastening the tabs, I looked up at her, my eyes wide and trusting. And I knew, in that moment, that Morgan had won. She'd broken me, regressed me, turned me into her baby. And there was no going back.

 

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