Freddysghost - Baby Nami

The entire story of the Clark family and The Last Chance Reform School and Clinic for Troubled Boys all in one post.

All art by Rocket Manatee

=================================

Part 1:

At The Last Chance Reform School and Clinic for Troubled Boys;

“You have nothing to worry about, your son is in capable hands.” The doctor said reassuringly.

“Though I don’t doubt that doctor, but is all this really necessary?” Mr. Clark asked, still surprised by the courts decision.

“Of course it is. According to the report we were given your son was out of control. Physically and emotionally bullying other students, skipping classes to do drugs, vandalizing private and public property, it’s a wonder the courts didn’t send him here sooner!” The doctor explained. “Ah here’s your son now.”

“Are those restraints necessary?” Mrs Clark asked seeing her son being restrained into a small bed.

“They’re just a precaution. A lot of our patients tend to resist their treatment at the start.” The doctor said calmly.

“What is that you’re injecting him with and is that a diaper?” Mrs. Clark asked as she watched a nurse inject her son with a needle and place a diaper under him.

“And I thought this was a boys school why is there a girl next to him?” Mr. Clark asked confused.

“Oh it is. You see we use a form of therapy called age regression therapy. It involves regressing the patients mind to a childish/infantile mind set so it’s easier to rebuild them into model citizens.” The doctor explained excitedly. “Additionally after comparing data from our sister school for troubled girls we have found that girls have a higher success rate of being rehabilitated into society. So for the past 5 years we have been feminizing our patients into baby girls and there have been no reports of them becoming repeat offenders since. What they’re injecting him with now is a special formula we call Chemical 7-9-18-12. It contains testosterone blockers, estrogen boosters, muscle relaxers to make him incontinent and more docile and a chemical to lower his sperm count/production. By the time he’s released he will be a bubbly little daughter for you to reraise.”

“I always wanted a daughter!” Mrs. Clark exclaimed.

“And all of this is completely reversible should we decide we want him to still be our son?” Mr. Clark asked still not convinced.

“Though I don’t suspect you will as we haven’t had a single case where the parents wanted a son after meeting their new daughter but yes it is all completely reversible.” The doctor said reassuringly.

=================================

Part 2:

A letter from the last chance reform school and clinic for troubled boys;

Dear Mr. and Mrs Clark,

We are sending this friendly letter to update you on your soon to be daughters progress. We are proud to say that at the 6 month mark he is doing very well and is adapting much quicker to his new life than most of his classmates, some of which are still learning how to crawl properly. He quickly learned that good behaviour awards privileges such as use of a walker and more frequent diaper changes, while bad behaviour results in spankings and even more humiliating out fits than the standard baby apparel. He still has some trouble responding to the new name you suggested in your last letter however but I’m sure in time that will improve as well.

The hormone therapy has taken effect and he now has a female figure. Enclosed is a photo taken during playtime in one of his classes.

Hope you are doing well, Senior Administrator Dr. Samantha Gracewell.

=================================

Part 3:

During the last few months of the first year of Regression Therapy parents are encouraged to visit their soon to be daughters at The Last Chance Reform School and Clinic for Troubled Boys in order to help establish a parental bond. This includes taking part in different activities such as feeding and diaper changes.

“Oof. I’ve forgotten how much of a stinky baby she used to be.” Mrs Clark said removing the used diaper from her mentally regressed and feminized son.

“Don’t worry. You’re doing fine.” The supervising teacher said handing her a clean diaper. “By the way where did your husband go?”

“I think he went back to the car. He’s been having second thoughts about all this and I think seeing his son all dressed up like a baby girl was too much for him.” Mrs Clark explained.

“Oh I see. We actually get that a lot. Dads aren’t usually too keen to see their little boys turned into baby girls. Most get over it though once they’re home.” The teacher said reassuringly.

“I hope so.” Mrs Clark said tapping up the diaper.

“So have you decided about whether you want us to go all the way or keep her as a boy? Because you know the deadline for the decision is in a few weeks.” The teacher said as the two looked down at the feminized boy.

“We actually haven’t talked about it but personally I’m leaning towards going all the way. We tried raising her as a boy and look where that lead. Having her be a girl gives both us and her a completely new start and we won’t make the same mistakes as last time.” Mrs Clark explained. “I just hope Dan will be on board with that decision.”

=================================

Part 4:

It had been a year since the courts sent my son to the Last Chance Reform School and Clinic for Troubled Boys. Over the course of that year they had subjected him to a combination of therapies called Regression Therapy and Feminization, reducing his mental and physical state to that of a baby girl. My husband, though hesitant, went along with it at first. But after we received the 6 month update letter he wasn’t so sure anymore and after our first visitation he was against continuing it. We ended up arguing about it and it unfortunately ended in our divorce. Now I’m left to reraise our daughter by myself.

It isn’t easy being a single mother much less one to a teenaged baby. Luckily I don’t have worry about finding a sitter while I’m at work as she’s still enrolled at the School, and they gave me a list of stores that sell adult sized baby supplies but it’s still hard. I don’t blame her of course, I love my little princess. I just wish my ex husband was able to understand why this was all needed. Our son was headed down a path to a life of crime but now she can start over as our daughter. We couldn’t afford to make the same mistakes we did last time and this was the best option to avoid them. I guess all I can do is give her the love and attention she needs and hope for the best.

The Difference between Canada and America

=================================

“Oh this one’s cute.” Violet’s mom said pulling a dress off a rack.

“Sure does.” Violet said not really paying attention hoping none of her friends walked by or saw her.

“Hmm. Lift up your dress sweetie.” Violet’s mom said noticing her daughter seemed distracted. “Well I guess we should get you changed before you try it on.” She said seeing her daughters diaper was wet.

It had been 3 months since Violet and her family moved to LA from Toronto. Before the move, a part from the climate and general demeanour, Violet didn’t think that there was that much of a difference between Canada and America when it came to culture. After the move she quickly found out just how different Americans and Canadians actually are.

It started when she noticed that the only diaper commercials on tv were for either infants or adults with bladder issues. Then while out in the city with her family she noticed that there were no public changing stations for big kids and teens. After doing some internet research she was shocked to find out that American teens don’t wear diapers!

Apparently American parents force their children to become potty trained at a young age around 2-5 instead of letting it happen naturally in their 20’s like in Canada. Furthermore in America teens are treated and dressed like young adults instead of big toddlers.

Leaning this Violet started to become very self conscious about her diapers and lack of potty training. Lucky she was enrolled at a private school and was able to hid her diapers under her uniform, having them changed at the nurses office and telling anyone who asked that she’s taking special medication that has to be eministed daily by a medical professional. After a few weeks she managed to make a few friends, none of which knew about her diapers. Then one day it happened.

“Hey Violet. You’ll never guess what I saw while shopping today!” Violet’s mom said while putting groceries away.

“What mom?” Violet asked looking up from the TV.

“Well, Violet you know how when we first moved in you said there didn’t seem to be any A&B (Adult and Baby) stores here? Well one just opened up!” Violets mom explained cheerfully.

“What?!” Violet exclaimed in shock.

“I know!” Violet’s mom said misunderstanding her daughters response. “I’ve noticed that you’ve seemed a little down lately so I thought you and me could take a Mommy-Daughter shopping trip tomorrow and check it out!”

“Great...” Violet said nervously.

Apparently with LA being a fashion hub A&B and other Diaper stores had managed to sneak into the American market with the Lolita trend. Hiding her diapers just became a lot harder.

=================================

Thanks to @lopezf1 for the picture.

Art by Rocket Manatee

4 diapees thick and ready for a day of adventures!🐰💖

JustForFans: https://justfor.fans/succubunnie

RocketStars: https://rocketstars.io/succubunnie

In the clinically white and eerily quiet nursery space, the two near strangers who had been held here for the past week stood nervously avoiding eye contact with each other and tonight’s nanny. Both captives wore footed onesies that gathered loosely around their legs and arms but pressed tightly against their bulky diapers, accentuating the thick padding they were imprisoned in. With the insufferable glee that all nannies here oozed, the nanny stared them down and asked, “You’re good girls, right?”

Neither of the girls took their eyes off the floor, but the more compliant of the pair, with her pink onesie and ribbons in her hair, who had warranted the harsher training on the first day after her lengthy fight to escape, nodded her head and squeaked an attempt at agreement. The subtlest change in the nanny’s stance sent a shiver through the silent girl all in blue and caused her companion to squirm in an attempt to shrink away into herself and out of sight.

“Ah ah ah, you weren’t going to speak there, were you?” Probed the nanny with unabashed delight in the reactions from across the room. When the girl in pink proved to be paralysed in adorable panic, the nanny broke the silence by continuing the questioning with, “Do I need to find something to keep your mouth too busy to talk?”

This conjured up memories of mouth soaping and unrelenting pacifier gags in the poor girl who had only tried to confirm her unquestioning submission to her nanny. She felt such powerful dread at the thought of these punishments that her eyes watered, her bottom lip trembled and a sudden and surprising rush of pee flowed into her diaper. Once she started peeing she couldn’t stop but that was a minor concern and didn’t hold her attention for more than a second. Her quick thinking and desperation lead her to fling her hand up to her mouth and slip her thumb between her lips. As much as it was a solution to the proposal she had been given, it was already a solidly ingrained comforting method that she now used when afraid or upset. Luckily her thumb sucking proved a perfect response for her nanny’s desire to quieten her.

“Aww, clever girl,” The nanny ecstatically praised the degraded and defeated girl as she desperately sucked her thumb and held back tears of worry and humiliation.

“You just keep your thumb in your mouth until I say so, ok?” This time there was no audible response whatsoever, just a tiny nod and a nervous, uncomfortable shuffle which the nanny put down to embarrassment, not being aware of the true, soggy reason.

With all this attention focused on one half of the captive duo, the other girl trapped in this nightmare had remained rigid and silent at her crib-mate’s side. She was internally chanting an unintelligible mantra based on a plea that the nanny wouldn’t shift focus to her. Despite her manifesting, almost praying to remain unnoticed, she was suddenly under the chilling gaze of the bubbly nanny who now made a demand of her.

“Give your baby friend a hug so she doesn’t get upset,” the nanny commanded in the usual delightful and sharp manor they all maintained. She hadn’t been broken the way her counterpart had since she had given in to the inescapable control of this place within hours of finding herself trapped in the infantile prison. Just as she would with any order given to her, she immediately obeyed her nanny and sidled over to the other trembling girl and gently slid her arms around her waist to hold her close. Instantly they both felt a tender warmness from the contact. This kind of closeness was deeply relieving in contrast to the way they were both so frequently touched by nannies who couldn’t be held back or reasoned with and had complete access to any part of them they wished. Physical touch with each other may still have been out with their control, but it wasn’t intrusive the way the nannies were. They were equally powerless here.

“That’s perfect! You two stay right there while I bring in the nice people who want to play with you. Don’t move a muscle,” The nanny almost sang the threatening instruction as sweetly as ever, inflicting painful anxiety on both captives. They had become very aware that this isolated torment they had been enduring was only the training and conditioning process before they began fulfilling their intended purpose. The exact nature of what would come next for them was unclear, but they both understood they would be confined to this life of babyhood from now on and every person they encountered would treat them like helpless babies or powerless playthings. As they stayed fixed to the spot, the nanny span around on one graceful leg to stroll out of the nursery area and fetch the infamous visitors. Before taking a step, an afterthought occurred to the nanny. Turning back to lock a sly gaze on the girls, the nanny added, “I’m sure I don’t need to say that your diapers better not be dry when they get in here. It’s silly, Of course neither of you could be dry right now. But still, it’s important to me you understand that.”

In unison, the girls shyly and shamefully flicked their eyes up to look at their nanny. Perhaps both of them were wet already. Perhaps not. As the nanny crossed the threshold and left the two babies alone in the nursery, they both stiffly stood absolutely still as their groins and bottoms grew warm.

Image Credit: ABDreams.com

It had been a year since the courts set my son to the Last Chance Reform School and Clinic for Troubled Boys. Over the course of that year they had subjected him to a combination of therapies called Regression Therapy and Feminization, reducing his mental and physical state to that of a baby girl. My husband, though hesitant, went along with it at first. But after we received the 6 month update letter he wasn’t so sure anymore. And after our first visitation he was against continuing it. We ended up arguing about it and it unfortunately ended in our divorce. Now I’m left to re-raise our daughter by myself.

It isn’t easy being a single mother much less one to a teenaged baby. Luckily I don’t have worry about finding a sitter while I’m at work as she’s still enrolled at the School, and they gave me a list of stores that sell adult sized baby supplies but it’s still hard. I don’t blame her of course, I love my little princess. I just wish my ex husband was able to understand why this was all needed. Our son was headed down a path to a life of crime but now she can start over as our daughter. We couldn’t afford to make the same mistakes we did last time and this was the best option to avoid them. I guess all I can do is give her the love and attention she needs and hope for the best.

==================================================================

The fourth and final part of my Last Chance Reform School for Troubled Boys series. I might make more captions about it following a different family but this is the last for this one.

Art by Rocket Manatee

Denied ♡

I knew I wasn't allowed to, but I couldnt help myself. I am just Daddy's dumb little baby, after all. And dumb little babies couldn't help themselves.

Which is why i was kneeling at Daddy's feet, whining and whimpering pathetically. He was playing a game on his computer and i knew better than to interrupt, but my kitty was wet and I wasn't allowed to touch inside is my diaper under any circumstances.

"Daddy, please," I begged for the thousandth time.

He smirked as he continued to play his game. "Oh baby," he said mockingly. "You know that little babies don't get play time unless Daddy says so. And Daddy didnt say so, did he?"

I whimpered as tears of embarrassment and need stung my eyes. "No Daddy. But... but..."

"But what, baby?"

"I can't hewp it. My wittle cunny is all wet Dada."

"Well that's just too bad, isn't it kitten? Daddy said no, that means no naughty time for you. Now be a good little baby and keep quiet for Daddy." He reached down and grabbed my paci that was clipped to my onesie and popped it into my mouth.

A tear ran down my cheek as he turned back to his game, leaving me a squirmy mess on the floor. The aching between my legs only increased and I began to move to hips. With no friction, it didnt relieve my frustration in the slightest. I saw Daddy glance down at me but he didn't say anything.

After a minute of uselessly grinding my hips against the air, i scooted closer to Daddy. His attention didnt leave his screen. I slowly crawled closer until i was right beneath him. Still no reaction.

I carefully mounted his foot and whined as his leg pressed against my squishy diaper, pressing it against my princess parts. Slowly, i began rocking my hips, grinding and humping against him, letting out small gasps and whines.

I felt Daddy move a bit as he paused his game, sitting back to watch me. Glancing up at him, i looked back down quickly as my cheeks burned in embarrassment. I tucked my face against his knee and whined loudly in relief.

I continued to hide my face as tears of humiliation leaked down my cheeks at the thought of Daddy watching me behave like such a naughty little girl. After only a few minutes of me humping Daddy's leg like the dumb little baby that he loved to remind me i was, i felt him shift in his chair.

Unwilling to look up at him, i whined. Moments later, i felt his strong hand stroke the top of my head. His fingers ran through my hair, and he gently grabbed onto a thick handful. I whimpered as he tilted my head back, forcing me to look at him.

With an amused smirk, he spoke. "Hi Baby."

"Hi Daddy," I whimpered out around my paci, slowing but not stopping my movements.

"What's going on down there, hmm?"

I just whined, unable to articulate what I was doing.

"Oh, now you're being shy?" Daddy chuckled. "That's okay baby girl. Daddy knows exactly what you're doing. Being a very naughty girl, aren't you?"

I just nodded.

"Look at you. Humping Daddy's leg, desperate for Daddy to play with your kitty. That's what you want, isn't it? You want Daddy to touch your wet little kitty?" he said teasingly.

"Yes pwease Dada," I begged.

"Awww, what good manners," Daddy commented. "No, baby. Naughty girls dont get rewards, and they certainly dont get cummies. If you had only waited until Daddy was done with his game, he was going to play with your kitty while we watched a movie, but I dont think you deserve that now."

I whined in protest, looking at him with puppy dog eyes. "Daddyyyy, please!"

"No, love. You disobeyed Daddy. And i think I know exactly how to make sure it doesnt happen again any time soon." He eased his foot out from underneath my cunny and stood. I moved to do the same, but he shook his head. "Babies don't walk. Crawl, baby."

I blushed and nodded, crawling behind him as he led me from his office to my nursery. He stood beside my crib and smiled down at me. "Come on, Sweetheart."

Daddy helped me up into my crib, folding the sides down so it more resembled a babyish bed. I rested my head on my pillow, and Daddy guided my wrists and ankles to the corners of the mattress, securing them into the fluffy pink restraints.

"Thats more like it," he said with a smile, leaning down to kiss my forehead. He climbed up, kneeling between my legs. His finger trailed up my thigh until he came to my thick diaper, gently prodding it. "Nice and squishy, as little babies should be. But i dont think that's the only thing wet, hmm?"

I blushed and shook my head, squirming slightly.

"I didn't think so. Not with all that pathetic humping you were doing." He pressed more firmly against the crotch of my diaper and i mewled. "You know, even though it was very naughty of you, seeing you act like such a needy little baby got Daddy pretty excited."

My cheek flushed red and I whined softly as I looked down at his crotch. There was an unmistakeable bulge.

He smirked and reached down to undo his belt and zipper. He slid his hand into his jean and palmed the front of his boxers. "Now, Daddies are allowed to tpuch themselves and play whenever they want. Babies don't. Do you understand?"

I nodded my head rapidly, whining as he pulled his hard cock out of his underwear, stroking it alowly.

"I'm not sure you do, little girl. I think Daddy needs to make sure that you understand that your kitty only gets attention when Daddy chooses."

I cried out in frustration, unable to look away from the scene in front of me. I didn't know whether i wanted Daddy to just give in amd touch me, or whether i preferred the punishment i was being subjected to. Except i did know. I wanted to be reminded of my place as Daddy's little baby doll.

Daddy smirked at me and let out a soft moan as he continued to stroke himself. I knew he was doing it to tease me. To show me how good it felt to be able to have that pleasure.

He moved forward and pressed his cock against the front of my diaper, rocking his hips into his fist, but still not enough pressure to give me any release.

Tears ran down my cheeks in frustration.

"What's wrong baby?" he cooed teasingly. "Do you need something?"

I nodded my head. "Yes Dada!" I pleaded around my paci, drool dripping down my chin.

"What do you need, cupcake?" He rubbed his slick tip against my diaper, smearing it around.

"I... i need Daddy to touch me," i whispered as i cried harder.

"No, you don't baby. You want it. You don't need it. What you need, is to follow Daddy's rules. You belong to Daddy, and you dont touch Daddy's things without his permission, do you?"

"N-no Daddy."

"Good girl," he sighed. "Now, Daddy is going to make cummies. But, baby doesn't get to feel Daddy's cock at all. And good girls certainly don't get cummy diapers."

He moved up my body until his cock was hovering over my face. I so badly wanted to stick my tongue out, but i knew better. And secretly, or not so secretly, I enjoyed the humiliation of being used to help Daddy masturbate with no pleasure of my own.

With a loud moan, Daddy said, "Hold still."

I did just that, closing my eyes as Daddy's warm milk coated my face all over. I did my best not to squirm. His special milkies were so close to my lips but i wasn't allowed to taste. It was torture.

After he was done, he sighed contently and leaned back to look at his handiwork. "So precious," he commented with a warm smile. He zipped himself back up and reached into his pocket and pulled his phone out. I blushed heavily as he snapped a picture. "Looks like Daddy got his cummies all over your paci," he said with a chuckle.

He pulled it out of my mouth for a moment and swiped it through the warm stickiness on my cheek, before putting it back in my mouth. "Just a taste, for being such a good girl."