abdl истории на русском big sister
Abdl Storys
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Abdl Storys
Erotic abdl fiction of all types
Image: Rocket Manatee www.cushypen.com
It was the start of a new season. The tree tops blazed with autumn foliage. A crisp breeze plucked a quivering bronzed leaf and carried it gently to the path which crossed the park in a great sweeping motion, like a giant rocking a baby to sleep.
The leaf made a satisfying crunch under Maisey’s boot. She giggled loudly with childlike ignorance to the fact bystander’s turned to see why a 23 year old young women was seemingly as delighted to be kicking up leafs and splashing in puddles as a little child would be.
She turned to her partner, Amelia, and grinned wildly, seeking praise for her accomplishment.
«Well done baby. That one matched your cute little hair clips.» Amelia beamed and squeezed her partners hand, she was pleased with how well Maisey seemed to be taking the recent adjustment in their relationship dynamic and lifestyle. Not only was it the start of a new season but autumn also marked the turning of a new leaf in this chapter of their life’s. After much deliberation, Maisey had agreed to become ‘Mummy’s Little Girl’, full time, not just in the privacy of their own home.
They were each thankful this was something they could enjoy together. Whilst public displays of MD/LG and other ageplay dynamics weren’t wholly mainstream, it was largely tolerated since the Regression Revolution.
For her part, Amelia was glad to be able to let her baby enjoy play outside and in a variety of settings, rather than it being confined to the home, which had lead to a frustrating bobbing in and out of Littlespace for Maisey previously.
Since embracing babyhood 24/7, including in public, Maisey could regress deeply without feeling like she had to hold a part of herself back incase she needed to switch back to being grown up.
Amelia had noticed the deep regression had effected Maisey in a number of ways. Shed was quicker to turn to tears if she was upset about something, but generally happier all round. She was less able to communicate way she wanted but her needs were simpler to take care off, generally constant cuddling and attention seemed to do the trick. Her libido didn’t seem to be effected but thick diapers were a means of chastity, stopping Maisey from touching herself inappropriately.
Amelia remembered her little girl hadn’t needed a diaper change before they had left home but they had been walking for some time now and she knew there would be tears if Maisey leaked and had to waddle home in wet socks.
«Baby. Can you come here for a second?» Amelia asked.
“I have to check you diaper sweetie.»
Maisey obediantly stood on the spot and dutifully held her skirt as Amelia lifted it and then probed the leg guards of the diaper cover.
«Yep, just as I suspected. The sog monster snuck in when we weren’t looking.»
«Oh no. Not Again!“ Maisey giggled and squeezed her thighs to feel the squish of her heavily wet diaper. Amelia was curious to know if Maisey could even tell when she was wetting herself recently? She supposed eventually Maisey would be completely reliant on diapers after continuously wearing them.
«Let’s get you changed.»
Amelia toted her diaper bag and led them over to a bench which would make a suitable impromptu changing table. Maisey sat on the bench with a squish and swung her legs around so that her mummy could undo the snaps of her diaper cover. She loved how being Little meant that in exchange for generally being well behaved and obediant, her Mummy took care of all the little responsibilities, allowing her to be carefree like a child. She never had to worry about holding her bladder incase she over soaked her diapers because Amelia would always be looking out for her.
«Let’s see what the damage is.» Amelia said to herself as she pulled back the diaper cover to reveal the saturated cloth padding beneath.
«Can we see the duckies before we go home?“ Maisey asked as her diaper area was wiped.
«We sure can!» Amelia answered enthusiastically. She laughed to herself and how innocent her Little One had become. When they’d starter their kink journey together being changed in public would have been mortifying for Maisey but here she was now, just like any other baby, albeit bigger.
«Yay! I love you Mummy.»
«Yes, dear. You heard me right.» The caretaker’s words were quiet, firm, as cool and uncompromising as granite. «You’re here with me now for as long as we need you. As long as it takes. As many weeks and months as the program requires until we’ve met our goal.»
Wide eyes filled with questioning and terror. A stifled whimper. A desperate shaking of the head. All these spoke volumes, screaming out in a way that the young woman’s dummy-swollen mouth never could. She wanted out. She had to escape. She didn’t want to do this anymore-
«And you see, it’s not so easy to back out now,» the caretaker went on, almost as if the hapless patient shivering before her had found a way to voice her frightened protests. «All the forms have been signed. All the proper human subject paperwork, and monitoring and consent forms, and waivers of liability and non-disclosure – they’re all signed and sealed and notarized. You know this. You’re our test subject here, of your own free will. You’re receiving generous compensation, and 24/7 housing and food and medical care, all in the comfort of this comfortable apartment we’ve provided. You’re supported entirely by the program – and with that level of investment, we simply can’t allow any sudden changes of heart.»
Shame crept into those eyes as they lowered to the ground. The caretaker’s words were true, and the patient knew it. She’d signed ever so many forms: so eager, so willing to do anything to secure that incredibly generous pay…
«So lest you have any more doubts about how this program will proceed,» the caretaker resumed, lifting the patient’s head in her hands and gazing coolly into her quailing eyes, «Let me be absolutely clear about what you’re likely to experience these next few weeks and months. Perhaps you won’t like what you hear. That is fine. You don’t need to like it. You just need to listen and understand that this is what will happen.»
She cleared her throat and continued. «You already know our project: to explore the benefits and limits of regression, play, and other non-standard methods of therapy on the individual. You have already had stressors from your adult life removed: communications devices, work obligations, social relations, clothing, and even toileting needs. Your mobility and your dexterity have been limited. You are being transitioned to a high-nutrient, low-stress diet even now. Your instinctual behaviors of suckling, crawling, and playing are being encouraged, and your speech and motor skills are being inhibited. Your sleep cycle is being shifted to that of a young child, with further alterations dependent on your progress…»
Seeing the confused questioning in those eyes, the caretaker went on, a subtle smile playing on her lips. «In practical terms, you will simply become diaper dependent. You already are for our purposes, of course – but thanks to our conditioning you are likely to lose significant, perhaps even total control. Your meals will be fed to you regularly as liquids or soft solids, typically in bottle form. Your main activities will limit as much as possible your need to use cognitive abilities; you will play, crawl, and toddle at most, sleeping frequently and at intervals we define. Your life will essentially revolve around eating, drinking, soiling, and sleeping. Your mind will gradually empty and quieten as we remove stressors from it and eliminate your need to process language or use higher-level cognitive faculties. And by the end of the program, I suspect your life will have become a soft blur of napping, and drinking, and soiling, and allowing your caretakers to care for you. You’ll be lying there, gazing out with those pretty, wide eyes at a world you no longer understand…
«Then, and only then, will we have reached our goal: of complete regression and a return to stress-free, instinctual life. You, my dear, will be the first to reach this goal – I know it.» And then the caretaker smiled at last, a true, broad smile full in the recoiling face of her aghast listener.
«You have no choice. You agreed to this, after all.»
Please don’t remove my caption or accreditation, okay? Oh, and check out my Patreon here if you want to read more of my short stories!
“Method acting?” Taylor’s voice rang through the phone.
“Yes, you’ve never heard of it?” Lindsey responded.
“Isn’t that when you act out your role in everyday life, not just on stage?” Taylor answered with a question. Lindsey affirmed excitingly.
“Yes! All the greats have done it. Day-Lewis did it with Lincoln, Heath Ledger with Joker. If I’m going to make it in this business, I have to model my approach off them.” Lindsey said seriously.
“Sure, maybe when you get your first movie roll; but do you really need to do that for a local theater roll? Lindsey you’re playing a baby! How are you supposed to method act that? What are you going to do, start wearing diapers?” Taylor asked unconvinced. Lindsey looked down at her pants. She flexed her thighs to feel the bulk of the diaper between her legs. The waistband peeked out over her pants.
“I’m not playing a baby. I’m playing as someone in pre-school, there’s a difference. I have actual lines I need to deliver; and so what if it’s a theater? Everyone starts somewhere. If I take it seriously now, I’ll be better at acting in the future.” Lindsey said, pleading her case. Taylor sighed over the phone.
“You are one determined girl, I’ll tell you that. Listen I got to go, I’ll pick you up at 5 on Wednesday for the movies?” Taylor asked, Lindsey agreed then said goodbye.
“She doesn’t know what she’s talking about.” She thought, her head turned to the side. She scooped up the blue sippy cup laying on her bedside. She brought the nipple up to her lips. “I’m going to become the biggest baby they’ve ever seen. If that’s what they want from me. That’s what they’re going to get.” She thought, she opened her mouth, but stopped moving the cup forward.
“Actually…” She thought, “Wouldn’t a baby have trouble doing this?” She pondered, then immediately confirmed that was the right idea. Anything she could do more childishly, that was the goal. She let her tongue flop out of her mouth. She licked the tip of the nipple.
“I… I nweed baba…” She muttered with her tongue stuck out. She let the muscles in her fingers relax. Her grip became weaker, and the nipple barely made it into the corner of her mouth. She knocked the bottle back and began sucking. Knowing that babies don’t always have the best seal around the nipple, she let part of the juice spill out the sides of lips. Dribbles leaked out of her mouth, and onto her right breast.
“I need to keep drooling.” She thought. Lindsey forcibly pushed any thoughts to pull-back from this. She wanted to change her self-image to that of a baby. If she broke even an once out of character, she could jeopardize her entire acting method. She let the droll continue to spill down her shirt.
“I got this.” Lindsey reassured herself, “In six months, they’ll be blow away at my performance. That’s plenty of time to get into this mindset.” She thought. The crinkling of her diaper on the bed reassured her of it.
Lindsey fully immersed herself into the lifestyle. She started with her diet. She removed every trace of food from her kitchen. Vegetables, fruit, pasta, granola, etc. In their place, she bought hundreds of jars of baby food. Anytime she was hungry, she would crawl over to her cabinet, and pop open a can. Someone her age couldn’t use silverware of course. The sensation of her fingers plunging into mush, then scraping it across her teeth became commonplace.
Gone were glasses and cups. She only had bottles or sippy cups. Which were always topped off with juice the moment they were empty. She kept a bottle beside her 24/7. Her mouth quickly started to crave a rubber nipple dribbling sugary juice onto her tongue. Her tongue would squirm restlessly in her mouth until it wrapped around a tip.
All this fluid intake put immense pressure on her bladder. Lindsey jumped from using the bathroom a couple times a day, to changing her sopping wet diapers every hour. She didn’t try to hold it. A little baby like her couldn’t in the first place. It became natural to let her pee flow freely. The front of her diaper was constantly warming from each accident. She mentally suppressed her brain’s ability to recognize signals from her bladder. She didn’t want to know when she was peeing. She wanted genuine accidents dribbling endlessly into her diaper. That’s what a baby like her was supposed to do anyways.
Messing was difficult at first. The mental barrier of pooping your pants is hard to break. Slowly, her mind accepted the fact she only messed in her diaper. It helped that her house had turned into one big nursery. It made it feel normal to poop herself. She was in the right place for it. Of course, the main driving factor was her baby food diet. Her bowels only pushed through high fiber mush. Once she let the gates open, it was difficult for her to stop it. Her muscles slowly atrophied to a toddler-like state.
Getting used to diapers was fun, but changing her recreational habits was even better. She stopped her normal routines of writing, jogging, and studying. Instead, she started playing make-believe with her toys, watching mind-numbing babyish cartoons, finger painting, or zoning out on the floor while her mind lived in her warm mushy diaper. It was non-stop pleasure sensory overload. Lindsey found it was easy to stop thinking like an adult. It was fun to let the weight of her adult mind crumble and ride a non-sensical baby wave instead. She leaned in hard to this mindset. It was the best way to get in character. If you want to become a baby, your mind needs to forget how to be an adult.
It was difficult to say complex words, so she stopped trying to think about them all together. Whenever she communicated with her stuffed animals, she only used simple introductory words, or babyish grunts. She didn’t forget how to speak, but she did find it was way easier to stop articulating well. She was nurturing her laziness to extreme levels. Her brain found a faster way to communicate. Dropping to a first-grade level of speech was efficient, and surprisingly easy.
“You dwink this tea mista’ Cow.” Lindsey said in the most perfect English she could. She felt a splash of drool spill from her loose lips. She stopped focusing on it immediately. Drooling was the same as breathing.
Lindsey animated the Cow by picking it up, then tipping a small teacup into its mouth. She used her imagination to see a river of tea flow. It forced a natural response in her diaper. Lindsey didn’t register that her diaper started growing a deeper shade of yellow. Her mind let that sensation wander out of her conscious thought.
“We’re sorry, Lindsey. Our hands are tied here.” The director said through the phone. Lindsey didn’t know what to say. Her entire world was shattered.
“What you mean I no can play baby? You said I can!!” Lindsey said through seething teeth. She tried to keep her vocabulary at an adult level, but she couldn’t control the assortment of frustration and sorrow churning inside. Her mouth spoke the words instantly as she saw them in her head.
“I know, and this is the worst part of my job. We’re facing sweeping budget cuts. I’m sorry. You’ll get preferential treatment during the next production!” The director said. Lindsey didn’t care. She was preparing for the role now. She didn’t want to talk to the mean man anymore. She hung up the phone.
“Screw this. I’m going down there and giving them a piece of my mind.” Lindsey thought, the fuzzy baby thoughts that had lingered over her mind for months thinned with its original purpose falling through. She started toward the door, throwing on a dirty black top on from the floor.
“They want to cut me? They don’t know what they’re about to get. I’m going to…” Lindsey thought, she trailed off. She looked down at her lower half. She stared at her blue printed diaper. “Oh.” She thought, “I don’t have to wear these anymore…”
She subconsciously started nibbling on her lips. She hadn’t been out of diapers in months. She couldn’t remember the last time she walked into a bathroom. She felt fear consume her.
“What if I…” She said, feeling herself act out a self-fulfilling prophecy, “Have an… accident…” She thought, the front of her diaper warmed as a pee leaked out of her. She tried stopping it, but her muscles were beyond helpless now. She tried crossing her legs to stem the tide. That didn’t help either.
“Uh-oh…” She subconsciously whispered. She squirmed in place as the trickle in her diaper spilled into a heavy stream. She whimpered feebly to herself as she filled her diaper. Her accident landed a severe blow to her adult-mindset. Adults don’t wear diapers out the door, and they certainly don’t pee themselves as they’re doing it. And they definitely don’t start sucking their thumbs for comfort afterwards.
Lindsey couldn’t stop it. She felt the lackadaisical blank-space thoughts creeping back. In that moment, she didn’t see herself as a grown woman. She wore diapers. Not just because of her wet and messy accidents, but for fun. She liked wearing diapers now. She enjoyed sucking her thumb. Lindsey liked being drooly. Her favorite show wasn’t New Girl anymore. It was Dora the Explorer. She didn’t eat a balanced diet. She shoveled baby food in her mouth via her hands, which always had dried baby food crusted on them now. She didn’t smell like strawberry and vanilla. She smelled like used diapers.
Adults aren’t like that. Babies are like that.
Lindsey’s brain slotted right back into place. The same place it’d been simmering in the past six months.
“Was my towys?!” She squealed while her legs collapsed. Her mushy diapered butt swayed from side to side as she made her way to the playroom. Ready to pick up where she left off. Making herself the biggest baby of all time.
(I hope you liked this caption! If you’re able to support me as a creator, head over to my patreon. I have tons of captions and stories just like it! Thanks for the read.)
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