Denied ♡

“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.

Regression Disease

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Mary sighed as she fed her daughter. It had almost been a year since the doctors diagnosis. Regression Disease.

“It usually starts with mild bed wetting, maybe once every two weeks, which slowly progresses to ever night. It isn’t long before the patient starts to have daytime accident as well. They also slowly find themselves beginning to be attract to infantile items and behaviours as their teen or adult mind recedes in on itself essentially making them a prisoner in their own mind.” The doctor explained. “We still aren’t sure what causes it but those over 40 appear to be immune. Luckily we do have a cure for it but it isn’t going to be easy.”

The doctor explained that the only known cure was for the patient to stop fighting the disease and completely let go, allowing the baby persona to take over completely then slowly reraise and reintroduce them to their old life. Similar to amnesia patients.

Mary sighed again as her daughter refused to eat her baby food. Per the doctor’s instructions Mary had moved all her daughters teen stuff into storage and replaced them with baby stuff. But they were a year into the treatment and there was little sign of improvement. Mary could see it in her daughters eyes. She was still in there fighting tooth and nail to stay and act her age. Mary couldn’t blame her. She had always been a fighter and a bit stubborn. She was almost proud of her for hanging in this long! But she needed to give in if she wanted to get better. Mary took another spoon full of food and tried once more to feed her brave, regressing daughter.

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Thanks to @jsolano318 for providing the picture

Art by CRICKET2G

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

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!

Always Read The Course Syllabus

———————————————————————

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!