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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.

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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

Don’t give me that look young lady. You brought this on yourself. I told you not to tease your sister about her still potty training at 13 and that I do not like swear words used in this house. I repeatedly told you what would happen if you continued to do both. But would you listen? No. So now you will suffer the consequences of your actions; your mouth washed out with soap and diaper punishment until you’re sister is finished potty training. Now apologize to your sister and you can forget about that slumber party you were planning this weekend unless you want your friends to see your diapers.

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Not forced feminization. Just a reminder that boys aren’t the only ones who end up in diapers when they misbehave. Girls can find themselves quickly diapered as well when they get on mommy’s last nerve.

Always Read The Course Syllabus

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I’m sure we’ve all heard the story of the guy that accidentally ended up joining the girls gym class after writing down the wrong course code when selecting his courses for the year. But that’s all it was right? A story they tell new students to make sure they sign up for the right course. Nobody would be that stupid. Or so I thought.

At my high school they offer a wider range of courses than most. Some of them considered strange and unusual. And some, unfortunately, are spelled similar to other classes.

Enter my dyslexic ass. I thought I was signing up for Shop Class when I wrote down the class code. Imagine my surprise when I showed up to class only to find out it was Swap Class!

I went to the school counsellor to see if I could and get switched into shop but unfortunately I was told that all the elective classes were full and that I was stuck.

“The point of Swap Class,” The teacher explained. “Is to give you experiences you wouldn’t otherwise have the chance to.”

What that meant was that our names were all put on one of two parts of a wheel and who ever we landed on our lives were swapped. There was one problem though. There was an uneven number of students in the class so the teacher put the category of Random on the wheel as well.

How random worked was each student put a life experience suggestion into a hat and who ever landed on random would pull one of the suggestions out of the hat and that will be the life they’ll live for the rest of the course.

If I ever find out who wrote Baby Girl I’ll kill them. The moment I drew the suggestion the teacher wrote a note and sent me to the nurses office where I was changed into a diaper and given a girls uniform.

It wouldn’t be so bad if it was just at school but apparently the teacher called our parents and told them we have to continue the assignment at home as well! It took my parents less than a week to put all my boy stuff in storage, turning my room into a giant pink girly nursery. They even put a lock on the bathroom so I had to use my diapers! To top it all off they’ve even enrolled me in daycare when I’m not at school.

Oh and did I mention the course spans two semesters?! This is going to be a long school year.

My advice and warning to you is to READ THE COURSE SYLLABUS!

Hey everybody I am so sorry I haven’t been in touch or posting much anymore I’ve been gone for a while been going through some problems but everything’s good now I hope to catch up with everybody

“This is what I wanted. This is what I wanted.” I kept repeating to myself.

It was true this was what I wanted but now that it’s happening I have mixed feelings. For a two years now I had been secretly wearing my older sister’s clothes without her knowing. Then one day out of curiosity I tried on one of my little sister’s goodnites and was instantly hooked. From then on I started wearing my little sisters clothes instead and slowly realized that I wanted to be a baby girl. I didn’t know how to tell my mom about my feelings so I started getting careless about not being caught. And then it happened.

One day my mom said she and my sisters were going out and wouldn’t be back until the evening of the next day and that I’d have the house to myself for the night. I took the opportunity to sleep exactly like a baby in my little sisters cote with foldable rails. We ate dinner as night and soon I was completely alone. I changed out of my boy clothes and into one of my little sisters goodnite and nightgowns. I got into the cot and pulled up the rails before putting the Disney Princess blankets over me and snuggled with one of the stuffed animal my little sister usually did.

I woke up the next morning with a strange taste in my mouth and a cold wet feeling between my legs. Before I could fully wake up and start analyzing what was going on I heard someone open the bedroom door. I looked over to see my mom walk in and close the door behind her.

“Good morning baby girl.” She said walking over to me. “I’m sorry I lied about you having the house to yourself for the night but I had to know if you actually were the who was stealing your sisters clothes and goodnites.” She then explained that she knew someone had been taking my little sisters goodnites and dresses for awhile now but didn’t know if it was me or my older sister, so she set this night up as a trap to see if it was me and was planning something similar next week if it was my sister. “But I guess there’s no point now that I found my new baby girl.” As she was explaining I realized that the strange taste in my mouth was a pacifier. “Don’t bother trying to say that this is your first time or a one time thing as I already found your stash of her clothes that were supposed to be donated to goodwill.” She said before I could retort. “Now here are the rules you will be following from now on:”

1. Because this must be what you want you are a baby girl now and will be expected to behave as such. This means you are the youngest member of the family making your little sister your older sister and you will address her as such.

2. You are no longer allowed to wear pants. From now on you will only wear skirts, dresses and tights.

3. The toilet is off limits. You will wear and use your diapers for their intended purpose.

4. You will refer to me as mommy just like all baby girls address their mothers.

“Now lets get you changed. The medicine on the pacifier I put in your mouth last night should have made you wet by now.” She lowered the rails and changed me into a pink despicable diaper, pink dress, white tights and put two pink bows in my hair. “Remember this is what you wanted.” She said before leaving to get breakfast ready.

“This is what I wanted.” I said to myself.

“Shh, sweetie, what’s wrong? What’s going on in here, baby? Mommy heard you squirmng all around in your beddie-bye all the way from her room! Is something bothering her little baby?”

Oh, that look my little one gives me as he stares up at me with that potent mingling of guilt, humiliation, and abject desperation written all over his flushed face. I don’t consider myself cruel, of course - no one really likes to think of themselves that way. But that helpless expression of his does incredible things to me - sets my heart racing, my knees trembling with excitement, my lower regions tingling. There is something so primal, so utterly, fascinatingly pleasurable about turning the guy you love into such a helpless, horny heap of hormones… And cruel or not, when I am tempted to feel bad I always remind myself that he wanted this. He even begged me for it once, so many months ago now…

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