Missy [Tier 3 Exclusive] (Patreon)

Time no longer made any sense to her. She didn’t know what day it was, nor did she know how long she had been here. Of the memories she could actually recall–and they were getting a little fuzzier with every passing day–she struggled with placing them in any sort of chronological order.

She knew she had been here for a while, and she could even recall a time when she felt happy about being here. She didn’t find the experience to be bad now, though she wasn’t sure what it was about it that she found to be good once upon a time.

And, for that matter, how did she even get here in the first place? She still had memories of not being here. She had friends and family. A job. She remembers the taste of coffee and the feeling of sand between her toes when she went to the beach.

She also remembers a man. He had short blond hair and a thin mustache. He had the warmest smile. There were days when she wanted to know who he was more than anything else.

‘Here’ was where she lived now. It wasn’t where she had always lived, but she had been here long enough that it felt normal. This was just the way that things were.

A knock came at her door, though there was barely a pause between the knock and the door opening inwards. A young woman with short red hair strolled into the room with a smile on her face. Her name tag read ‘Annie.’

She liked Annie. But she also liked everyone who visited her.

“Good morning, Missy,” Annie said. “How are you this morning?”

Missy can’t help but laugh. She sometimes forgets that’s her name. “Oh, I’m good, thank you. Annie…what day is it?”

It was Annie who laughed now. “Does that really matter?”

“I just…sometimes forget,” she said.

“It’s Wednesday, if that helps.”

Wednesday? That didn’t feel right. “Okay. Thank you, Annie.”

“Satisfied?” Annie asked. “Shall we get on with it?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Alright, arms straight up in the air–you know what to do.”

This was the routine, as it had been for as long as Missy could remember. Someone would come by in the morning, and they would change her. Feed her. Get her ready for the day ahead. Sometimes it was Annie, but sometimes it was Jessica. Or Lola. Or…there was another woman too, though her name was harder to remember. Something with an H.

Wait…was it Jessica? Or Jennifer?

With Missy’s arms stretched into the air, Annie grasped the hem of her nightgown and hoisted it up her body, pulling it off of her completely–leaving Missy in just her diaper.

“What do you think I’m going to find when I open this up?” Annie asked.

“Well…it feels quite wet.”

“And do you remember wetting, Missy?”

“No. I think it happened overnight. When I was sleeping.”

“This seems to be happening more regularly, doesn’t it?”

Missy nodded. “I guess so.”

Annie laughed. “You guess?”

“I thought I was wet every morning…”

“I see,” Annie nodded. “It sounds like you might just be getting used to that happening. How does a wet diaper make you feel?”

Missy had to think about that strange question for a moment or two. How did it make her feel? Was it supposed to make her feel any particular kind of way? It was like asking if she enjoyed breathing, or if she liked the taste of her own lips–it was just ingrained in her normal life to the point where she just didn’t think about such things.

“It’s fine,” Missy finally offered. She wasn’t sure what else to say.

“Of course,” Annie said, flashing her a warm smile as she jotted something down in her notebook.

“What are you writing?” Missy asked. “Is it about me?”

“Here,” Annie said, an amused smile on her face as she handed her notebook over to Missy. “Why don’t you take a look.”

Missy eagerly took it, curious to see what sorts of notes Annie might have been keeping. She hoped, too, that she might get more answers. Answers about where she was, and why she was here.

But, much to her dismay, as Missy’s eyes scanned the written words on the page, she struggled to understand what they said. She recognized it as writing–she could even appreciate Annie’s very precise handwriting–but none of the symbols made any sense to her.

“Wh-what language is this?” Missy asked.

Annie chuckled softly and took the notebook back from her. “Did you find that hard to read, Missy?”

She nodded.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much. Those are just details for the adults to care about. Not you.”

This wasn’t the most satisfactory answer, though Missy did accept it as the truth. There were adults–and then there was her. And she wasn’t exactly sure what that made her, but she knew that she wasn’t an ‘adult.’

“Is there anything else?” Annie asked. “Or were those all of your silly questions for this morning?”

“I…I guess that’s it.” No, there were more questions. There were always more. She chose to just bite her tongue.

“Why don’t you lie down on your bed, then, so I can change your diaper.”

Later

Once in a great while, it occurs to her that she’s not really doing all that much during her day. Sometimes she’ll try walking for a while–but when that gets too tough, she’ll just crawl instead. And she’ll crawl around for a while until she gets distracted by something. Maybe a toy, or a coloring book. Sometimes it's just her thumb. Sooner or later, she’ll just curl up and decide its a good time to take a nap.

Most of her time is spent in a single room. It’s a nice room, she thinks. It’s very bright and colorful. And it has all of her favorite things in it too. Her teddy bear. Crayons. That pink blanket that feels soft against her upper lip. Her sippy cup with the picture of the kitty on it.

Sometimes they take her outside. She does enjoy that. It’s fun to crawl in the grass or play around in some sand or dirt. Plus, she sometimes gets to see others too. Others like her.

Missy likes the girl with the pigtails, though she can never remember her name. She just calls her ‘Piggy,’ but that seems to do the trick. Piggy always answers when Missy says the name.

“They told me I’m leaving soon.” Piggy said as the two girls lay in the grass.

“Why?” Missy asked.

Piggy shrugged. “They say that my Daddy is coming to get me.”

“That sounds nice,” Missy said. “I bet your Daddy is very nice.”

“Mmhmm,” Piggy replied, nodding vigorously. “He gives me lots of stickers.”

“Wow,” Missy said, shaking her head. Stickers sounded real nice. She wanted some stickers too. “How did you, uhm, get a Daddy?”

Piggy scratched her head. “I just think I always had one. Don’t you have a Daddy?”

“I might,” Missy pondered aloud. “I don’t really remember.”

She thought again of the blonde man with the thin mustache. Was he her Daddy? Was that why she thought of him all the time?

Piggy was saying something about her Daddy, but the words are lost on Missy. She was a little distracted by a feeling in her belly. It’s one that she’s felt before, though she was having trouble remembering what she did the last time she felt this way.

Maybe she just needed to…

Brrrrriiip.

Piggy giggled upon hearing the trumpet-like noise blast from Missy’s bottom.

Missy blushed. It was embarrassing to be laughed at by Piggy for something she did all the time when she was in her room alone. But maybe it would be funny if she heard someone else doing it. In fact, thinking about Piggy’s bottom making a noise like that made her feel happy too.

But that release of wind hadn’t been enough to quell the storm in her belly. Missy beared down and pushed again. She didn’t have to push all that hard, of course. Almost immediately, and with another loud blart, a deluge of warm mush erupted from her, filling the seat of her diaper and spreading into any vacancy it could find.

“Ew,” Piggy said, wrinkling her nose. “Missy made a messy.”

“I…I couldn’t help it!” Missy exclaimed, throwing her arms in the air. What she really wanted to ask, but didn’t, was: What else was I supposed to do? As best as she could recall, when you had to go, you just went.

“Do you want to get changed?” Piggy asked, nodding her head towards one of the women patrolling the yard.

“No, I don’t think so,” Missy said, rolling a little and sitting up in her dirty diaper–further squishing the rank mess within her pants. “Maybe later when we’re done playing.”

There was a part of her that knew this wasn’t completely ‘normal.’ She still felt a little shame over having messed her diaper in front of Piggy–a feeling she knew, on some subconscious level, to mean that it wasn’t always like this.

But as quickly as she considered that doubt, she had brushed it away. Sitting in her soupy diaper felt good, and that was all that mattered now. In fact, she found herself slowly rocking back and forth in her mess, cherishing the strange little vibrations that traveled through her body.

Later

“Now then. Care to tell me what that was about?”

“Uhm…I’m not sure what you mean,” Missy said, looking down at her feet as she playfully kicked them in the air while sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Your diaper?” the woman said, a clipboard in her hand. “I understand that you had made a rather big mess of yourself.”

Missy shrugged. “I… I dunno. It just felt good, so I did it.”

“Did what, Missy?”

“Poopied.”

“And then what did you do after that?”

Missy shrugged again, not entirely understanding the question. Why was the woman asking these questions?

“Brianna says that she watched you use your diaper and then you…”

“Who is Brianna?” Missy asked.

“The girl you were playing in the grass with? The girl with the pigtails?”

“Oh,” Missy said. She was tempted to mention that she called that girl ‘Piggy,’ but it didn’t seem to matter. They didn’t know her by that name.

“Brianna said that she watched you use your diaper,” the woman began again, consulting notes on the clipboard, “and then watched as you ‘rubbed your diaper back and forth on the ground until you began to cry.’”

“I don’t remember crying,” Missy said. “It was, like, a good thing. Maybe they were…good cries? Is that a thing?”

The woman smiled as she wrote something down. “Yes, Missy. That is absolutely a thing.”

Later

A knock came at her door, though there was barely a pause between the knock and the door opening inwards. A young woman with curly blonde hair strolled into the room with a smile on her face. Her name tag read ‘Janet.’

Missy liked Janet. But she also liked everyone who visited her.

“Good morning, Missy,” Janet said. “How are you this morning?”

“I’m good, thank you,” she answered. “But I was wondering something.”

“Oh?” Janet asks curiously. “What’s on your mind this morning? Why don’t you tell me about it while you stand up so I can better inspect your diaper.”

Missy did as she was asked, finding that she was a little wobbly as she stood. She was pretty sure there was a time when she could stand for a long time without any issues. Now, she needed to keep a hand on the bed to steady herself. Even then, it didn’t take long before she’d tumble over.

“Janet, what day is it?”

Janet chuckled as she lifted Missy’s nightgown. “Is that important?”

“I just… I like to know,” she said.

“Well, it’s Tuesday, if you must know.”

“Tuesday? But…” She scratched her head. That just didn’t seem right. She had asked that other girl recently too, she thought. Annie? Amber? And she had said it was Wednesday. But there was no way that could’ve been a week ago. Right?

“You soaked yourself pretty badly last night,” Janet said, bringing her back to reality. “Looks like you might have leaked too–judging by that little puddle in your bed.”

“I did?” Missy asked. She didn’t even remember wetting herself–she normally didn’t–but she thought she’d at least remember waking up in a wet bed.

“It’s not a big deal,” Janet said, comforting Missy by rubbing her back. “It happens. I’ll take care of you.”

“Th-thank you,” she replied. If nothing else, Missy could always count on being taken care of here–wherever that was. The staff doted on her and everyone else. Every need was always met.

It was so easy. Too easy? That, she was never quite sure of.

She was on her back, legs separated and lifted into the air as Janet wiped her skin clean and readied a fresh diaper. It was a position she was well-acquainted with, as it happened multiple times every day.

“Janet, I have another question.”

“Very curious today, aren’t you?”

“Well, uhm, I was just thinking and…I wondered if I have a daddy?”

Janet laughed a little to herself. All of the women who worked here had a tendency to giggle and chuckle when they were asked questions. Missy rarely understood what was so funny, though she got the feeling that it had to do with the nature of this place. They knew all the things that she did not.

“No, little one,” Janet finally said. “You do not. But that’s why you’re here. We’re going to get you one. Would you like that?”

“Yes,” Missy nodded. “I’d like that very much.”

As she was sealed into her new diaper, Missy couldn't help but wonder–if she didn’t already have a daddy, then who was that man with the mustache that she could still see in her mind?

Later

This is not her room, though it’s a room she remembers being in before. It’s hard for her to recall what happens in this room now, but she remembers being happy here. Whatever this place is, she knows that it’s good.

“How are you feeling today, Missy?” said the brown-haired woman. According to her nametag, her name is Heather. Missy is pretty sure she’s met Heather before, though it’s all a little fuzzy.

“Good,” she said, nodding.

“Do you remember what it is that we do here?” Heather asked.

“N-not really…”

“We’re going to do some exercises today, Missy. It’s important for you to practice some very important skills.”

“Ex-sir-sizes,” Missy said, slowly sounding out the word.

“That’s right.”

“What do I need to know?” Missy asked. She was truly baffled by the idea. It felt like it was getting harder and harder just to remember the things that she actually knew how to do now. And they expected more from her?

“Do you remember this?” Heather asked, plopping something down on the table in front of Missy.

Missy’s first reaction was to giggle–she couldn’t help it. She certainly knew what that was. Well, she knew what it looked like.

“Th-that’s a peepee,” she said. It was. A translucent pink plastic cock sat before her.

“Very good, Missy. And do you remember what you do with that?”

She shrugged. “I…I don’t know. I don’t have one of those…I don’t think.”

“You do know,” Heather said. “You just may not know that you know. Missy, do you see this monitor on the wall?”

“Uh huh.”

“I’m going to turn off the lights, and I want you to watch that screen, okay? It’s very important that you try as hard as you can to pay attention to it. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

“Y-yes,” Missy nodded. “I can do that.”

“Very good. Okay, I’m turning the lights off now.”

The room fell into darkness. At first, there was just silence and then the sound of water–gently flowing and bubbling.

“Relax,” a vaguely familiar feminine voice stated slowly and calmly through slightly tinny speakers. “Put your body at ease. Take a deep breath. As deep as you possibly can. And hold it.”

Missy did as she was instructed, sucking in all the air she could until she could hold no more.

“And now, release it. Very slowly. As slowly as you possibly can.”

Missy exhaled through pursed lips, emitting an almost whistle-like “Hoooooooooooo.”

“And now we’ll do it again. Deep breath. And hold it.”

She took in a deep breath again.

“And now release.”

“Hoooooooooooo.”

“Very good,” the voice said. “Now, as you continue to take your deep breaths, please focus your attention on the screen before you. It will tell you what to do next.”

The screen lit up, showing an image of a girl’s face–a face not that dissimilar from Missy’s. The girl was smiling. From off-camera, a large fleshy object approached her face. It was a ‘peepee,’ as Missy would call it. Missy smiled at the sight of it, blushing a little too. As it turned out, she did remember this room a little more now. She remembered what she did the last time too.

She watched as the girl on the screen took the cock into her mouth, moaning with pleasure as she did so. As if to replicate what she was seeing for herself, Missy took the pink toy in front of her and slowly slid it into her own mouth.

What followed was a sequence of new images and short videos, each featuring feminine faces and bodies doing anything they could to pleasure the happy looking men. Meanwhile, the audio continued to offer instructions on when to breathe, how long to hold one’s breath, and when to release. Missy was transfixed–each of her senses taken over by the commands and the visuals. She wasn’t even there consciously, she slipped into a trance-like state as her susceptible mind took in everything that was presented to her.

She learned. She learned exactly what she needed to do when she saw a cock.

Later

She crawled across the grass, finding a comfortable spot to plop herself down in her thick diaper while she looked up at the blue sky. She didn’t remember much these days, but she always remembered how much she liked the feeling of the soft grass under her feet and palms.

Something was missing though, she just wasn’t sure what it was. There was something else she used to enjoy about these moments that she didn’t have now.

Oh, right. Piggy. Where was that girl?

“‘Scuse me?” she asked one of the women strolling past.

“Yes, Missy?” answered the woman with short red hair. Her uniform had a name printed on it–but Missy had a hard time deciphering what the weird squiggly symbols said.

“I…I was just wondering about Piggy. She’s usually out here with me, but…”

“Piggy?” asked the woman. “I’m not sure I’m familiar with anyone by that name.”

“Pig-gy,” Missy said again, accentuating each syllable as if it would more clearly communicate the name. “She had, uhm, hair? And it was like…” She held her hands up to the top of her hand, trying to mime what pigtails might look like.

Missy could not remember what that hairstyle was called–nor did she recall why she had called Piggy that name.

“Oh, yes,” the woman said, laughing a little and nodding. “I think I might know who you mean. Brianna.”

Missy shrugged. “Maybe. But…where is she?”

“I do believe she was adopted.”

“Ad…adopted?” Missy repeated the word a few more times in her head. It sounded familiar, but she couldn’t quite recall what it meant. Her gut reaction was that this was a good thing.

“She’s left here and has gone to live with her daddy.”

“Daddy,” Missy repeated. That word she understood. Well, she understood it a little bit better. “When do I get one of those?”

“When you’re ready, darling,” the woman said, patting her on the head.

“But…when will that be?”

“I think you’ll know it when you’re there.”

Later

There were three women in the room now, and they were all looking down at Missy as she crawled about on the floor. They all smiled and nodded to each other–seemingly content with the state of things. Missy would occasionally glance up at their faces, though doing so frustrated her. She couldn’t understand why they were here, nor what they looked so happy about.

She really tried not to let these sorts of things bother her anymore. She was happy with her simple life. All she had to do was crawl around–she had tried walking a few times, but she couldn’t figure it out–play with her toys, and drink whatever bottles the staff gave her. Occasionally someone would come and change her diaper, but that really wasn’t her problem.

And then sometimes, like this, people would just come and watch her. They’d make notes on their papers. They’d nod to each other and laugh. They’d whisper things that she couldn’t really make out.

“I think she’s ready,” one of the women said.

“You think?” asked the woman in the middle.

“We could always ask her,” the last woman–a young lady with short red hair said. She knelt down, bringing herself to Missy’s level. “Do you think you’re ready, Missy?”

“Weady for what?” Missy’s voice had become softer. The sharper syllables were starting to get a little more rounded when she spoke. She hadn’t really noticed.

The baby talk earned her a chorus of ‘awwws’ from the women who were still standing, though the red-haired woman kept herself composed.

“We think you might be ready for a daddy. How do you feel about that?”

“Mmhmm,” Missy said, nodding. “I wike dat vewwy much.”

A ‘daddy’ was all she had ever wanted. There were times when she wasn’t even entirely sure what a daddy was–but she had it stuck in her head that she wanted one. Needed one.

“We have a gentleman who is interested in adopting a little girl like yourself,” the red-haired woman said. “I think he may be a good fit for you. Would you like to meet him?”

“Yes pwease,” Missy said, nodding vigorously.

“Did you hear that?” the red-haired woman said, looking up at the other women. “She still has some manners. I think Eric is going to quite pleased.”

“I’ll fetch him,” said one of the standing women.

The other woman checked her watch. “I suppose I should check on the other babies. You’ll let me know how this goes though, yes?”

Those two women left together, leaving just Missy and the red-haired woman.

“What day is it?” Missy asked. She didn’t ask as often as she used to. But once in a while she’d remember that the question had been important to her–even if the answers rarely made much sense to her.

“It’s Friday,” the red-haired woman answered, smiling. “TGIF.”

“Theegeewhyeff,” Missy repeated, clearly unsure of what she was saying.

“You’ve been one of my favorites,” the woman said to her. “It’s going to be sad to see you go.”

“Favewits?” Missy smiled–that dumb smile she did when she was clueless as to what was going on around her. Then…

Poot.

A little sound from her bottom heralded the back of her diaper expanding–a warm pocket of soft mass seeping out from her. Missy didn’t react to it at all, continuing to smile at the red-haired woman.

The woman sighed, running her hand through Missy’s thick hair. “I think you’re going to make someone a very happy Daddy.”

It was at about this time that the door to her room opened, and one of the women from before returned, followed into the room by a man. He was clean-shaven with short dark hair. Fit. Handsome. A smile spread across his face as he looked down at Missy, though his nose wrinkled a little.

“I’m so sorry,” the red-haired woman said, standing straight up to greet the man. She shook his outstretched hand. “She literally just did that. If you’d like, I can go and get her cleaned up for you. It wouldn’t take long.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” he said, his voice deep and powerful. “This is what I’m signing up for, yes? I ought to get acquainted with this stench.”

“Well…a word of warning,” she responded. “This little one can be quite stinky.”

“I’d call that a feature,” he said, walking past her and approaching Missy. “Hello, little one. What’s your name?”

“M-missy.” She was blushing, and she swore she could feel her body shrinking before him. He was so big. He exuded a sort of daddy-energy–though she lacked the ability to put that into actual words, it was just a feeling she had.

“The nurses here seem to like you a lot,” he said. “I can see why. You’re quite adorable.”

“Fank you…” Her voice got softer.

“Do you like your diapers, Missy?” he asked. “Do you like to use them?”

What strange questions. They almost suggested that there was a choice–that diapers weren’t just a normal part of her everyday life.

“I hafta use diapies,” she said.

“Ah, right,” he nodded. “I’m sure nobody wants to see what would happen if you weren’t wearing them.”

She didn’t completely understand what he meant, but she nodded anyway.

“I’m looking for a little girl of my own,” he continued. “I’d like to be her Daddy.”

“Me!” she exclaimed. “Pick me!”

He laughed, reaching under her chin and lifting her face a little so that he could get a better look at it. “I’d like to, Missy. I just want to be sure that you’re the right baby for me.”

“Mmhmm,” she hummed up at him. “I am.”

He turned to the other women. “Would it be a problem if I wanted to be alone with Missy here?”

“No,” the red-haired woman said. “Not at all.”

“And would it be okay if I…”

“Mr. Serranos, you can do anything that you’d like with her.”

“Very well. Thank you, ladies. I’ll fetch you when I’m done here.”

“Of course,” the woman said. “Take your time.”

The door closed soon after, leaving Missy alone with the man. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel scared by the stranger. His kind face and soft touch eased her nerves considerably. Really, she was just curious. Who was he?

She thought of the blonde-haired man with the mustache–the one she could still see in her mind from time to time. This man didn’t look anything like him. She was a little disappointed by this, though she didn’t see this as a reason to dismiss him either.

“You certainly look like a little princess,” he said to her. He sniffed the air, chuckling to himself. “And you smell like one too.”

She blushed again. As normal as it was for her to fill her diaper, there was still a part of her–deep down–that felt a little shame every time it happened.

“I can’t help it,” she said to him.

“I’m sure you can’t. But that’s what I like about you.”

“W-weally?”

“Missy, I’ve been told that there are some things you’re very good at.”

She shrugged. She wasn’t entirely sure what he was talking about–it didn’t seem like she knew how to do much of anything, let alone being good at something.

“I dunno…”

“Let’s see, shall we? What do you think you’d do with something like…this.” With a few casual movements of his hands, he had opened the front of his pants, and had pulled his cock out from them. It was already erect–and at a size that even Missy knew to be rather impressive.

Oh, wait…

As it turned out, she did know what to do with this, and she wasted no time in lunging forward with an open mouth. She swallowed the entirety of his cock in an instant, summoning a deep and guttural groan from the man. From there, it was as if she was on autopilot–she barely had to think about what to do, as her body just did the work for her.

But it was good. It felt good to feel her lips glide back and forth across his shaft. It felt good to hear him moan and take deep breaths as she continued. It felt good to taste the salt of his skin. It felt good when the smell of her putrid diaper would suddenly overtake the more immediate scent of his sweaty skin.

It was near-climactic for herself when she felt him erupt in her mouth, the creamy delight spreading into every space that it could.

She swallowed every drop. As she knew she was supposed to.

A few moments later, he pulled his cock from her mouth, chuckling to himself as he watched her wipe her mouth clean with the back of her hand–a big stupid smile still on her face.

“Ah yes,” he said. “You’re as good as I was told you are.”

“F-fank you,” she said. She couldn’t help but add in a girlish giggle–she was just so delighted to have made him so happy.

“I’m thinking I’d like to adopt you. Would you like that, Missy?”

Later

Missy woke one morning with a song in her head. She couldn’t remember the name of it. Something about…babies driving a car?

No, that wasn’t it. She kept humming it to herself throughout the morning. She even hummed it through her morning diaper change.

“That’s a very cute song,” Annie said.

Annie. Missy wondered if the nurses had started wearing uniforms that had actual legible words on them again. Because she could read that it was Annie who was changing her diaper.

“I…I don’t know what it is,” Missy said.

“I think that’s the Beatles.”

“Beetles can’t sing,” Missy said, shaking her head.

“No, no. Like…the band? It sounds like you’re singing one of their songs. It goes, like, ‘Baby you can drive my car...’”

“Yes!” Missy exclaimed. “That’s right!”

Annie laughed as she wiped between Missy’s legs, holding them up in the air with her other hand.

“Wh-what day is it?” Missy asked.

“Monday,” Annie said. “It’s been a while since you’ve asked me that.”

“Has it?”

Slowly, but surely, Missy began to remember. She was remembering all sorts of things. She remembered how to walk. How to talk better. She remembered people she used to know. Places she used to go.

When her diaper was changed the next morning, and she asked what day it was, she was told that it was Tuesday. That made sense to her.

And then, one day, she just had to ask: “What is this place? Why am I here?”

“Missy, I’d like to show you something,” Heather said to her. “Come with me.”

Later

On the screen was a man. He had blonde hair and a mustache. It was him.

He looked happy. Excited, maybe. Perhaps a little nervous too.

“Please look into the camera,” a voice off-screen said to him. “Tell us your name.”

“My name is Martin Ross.”

“Tell us a little about yourself, Martin.”

“Well, uh, let’s see… I’m 24. I live by myself. I like to, uh, read. I like movies. I’m not a great cook, but I try…”

“Martin, what brought you to our office?”

“I think, uhm, when I looked at my life, it just felt so empty. A lot of my family is gone, and the ones that are left really don’t want much to do with me. And likewise, I suppose. I don’t really have any friends–it’s always been hard for me to make them. I’ve tried dating, but… It always just feels so empty and soulless. Like…comparing these checklists of fake interests against other people’s or something.”

“But that doesn’t really answer the question, Martin. What brought you here? To us?”

He laughed, nervously running a hand through his hair. “I think I want to start over again. I think I want…something different. And that’s what you offer, isn’t it?”

“That’s true,” the woman off-screen said. “But ‘different’ can mean a lot of things. I’d want to make sure that your definition and my definition are the same. When you say you want to ‘start over,’ what–exactly–do you seek?”

He laughed again, sitting back in his chair as he exhaled and stared off into space for a few moments. He seemed to be thinking about it–perhaps contemplating if he actually wanted the things he thought he did.

Martin finally leaned forward again. “Might as well go big, right? I want it all. Or, rather, I want it all taken from me. My identity. My adulthood. My…masculinity.”

“That we can help you with,” the woman said. “We can make the world forget about Martin Ross. We can reinvent you. We can transform you.”

“Yes. Yes, I want all of that.”

Later

“For the last few months, we transformed you into exactly what you wanted to be,” Annie said, pausing the image on the screen. “Through a combination of drugs and hypnosis–all of which you’ve approved previously–we’ve done exactly that. We feel your transformation was a success, and a customer has expressed interest in adopting you as his little girl.”

Missy nodded. She understood. Mostly–she still had questions, of course.

“This is the final step of the process,” Annie continued. “We’ve weaned you off of the medications for the last week or two so that we can ensure you’re fully cognizant. This, here, is an important stage. We need you to look back at the last few months…”

“Months?” asked Missy.

“It’s been a while,” Annie smiled.

“Oh…”

“Before we complete your transformation–before we hand you off to your new Daddy–we need to check in with you one last time. We need you to review the changes we’ve implemented so far. You need to be absolutely, positively, sure that we’ve done what you wanted and that you’re happy with the results. With your final approval, we’ll move forward.”

“Move forward?” Missy asked. “What does that entail?”

Annie laughed a little–maybe she found the word ‘entail’ to be a little advanced for the little girl in a diaper. “Well, we start with the hypnosis and pharmaceutical conditioning again. We set you to the state you want and then we hand you off to Daddy. After that? Well, that’s up to you and him.”

Missy nodded. She understood.

“I’m putting this tablet here on the table for you,” Annie said. “You can use it to access all of the data we have on you and your progress. You can read our notes and you can watch footage of you that we’ve captured from your room. Please take your time and make sure that you like what you see.”

Soon after, Missy was left alone with the tablet. There was an overwhelming amount of information–thousands of video files and hundreds of documents. She could spend the next month combing through everything and still have more to see.

She decided to start at the beginning. Martin Ross.

Missy couldn’t help but laugh, the mustachioed man in her daydreams had actually been, once upon a time, her.

Martin. What a miserable man. He had hated his lot in life. He had a decent job and a bit of cash saved up–but what was the point of money if you had nothing to spend it on? He was a lonely recluse. An awkward lump of flesh in the company of others. And that was the problem–he didn’t want to be completely alone, but he also didn’t want to be in the company of most others.

But, slowly, he began to develop an idea about what he wanted. For a while, it was just a series of emotions that he couldn’t put words to. And then, one day, the words found him. Servitude. Complete and utter devotion to one person for as long as he lived. He’d have no other purpose than to be the possession of someone else. Someone better than him. Someone who was all the things that Martin was not–strong, confident, happy.

And the more he thought about it, the more sure he was that this was his purpose.

Which brought him here, setting him on a course to become Missy.

Missy didn’t watch all the videos. She barely watched any, in consideration of how many files there were. But she picked out a handful of them–one per each month that she was here–to get a feel for what her progression was like over time.

In the first month, it was very much like watching footage of Martin Ross. He was drinking from baby bottles and he was wearing little dresses–but that was his face, minus the mustache. He walked around just fine. He talked to the nurses when they checked in on him. He wore diapers, but he often had to be encouraged to use them. And even then–when it was clear that he wanted to–it seemed like a struggle for him.

In the second month, he looked a little less like Martin. His hair was a little longer. He seemed a little less stable on his feet. He was beginning to ask a lot of questions–he seemed to be forgetting things. He no longer needed to be told to use his diapers, he seemed to be content to just squat and do his business–though it usually came after a bit of a ‘potty dance’ where he bounced around holding his crotch or bottom.

It was in the footage of the third month where it suddenly became difficult to refer to the person that Missy was seeing as ‘Martin.’ Their hair had grown longer. Their face, seemingly, softer. They had…breasts? Well, the start of them, at least. They were still on their feet, though most of the time it looked like they had to hold on to nearby objects or else they’d tumble over. And there was plenty of footage of that. Too, it no longer seemed like there was much thought put into the use of the diapers. They would just suddenly stop what they were doing and you could see a look of relief washing over their face as the diaper began to swell and change color. Then, as soon as they were done, they’d be calling for a nurse to come and change them.

Then, in the fourth month, there was no longer any question as to who she was seeing. That was Missy. She had developed her signature girlish giggles and playful smile. Her little breasts had developed a cup size or two as well and began to fill out the frilly dresses she was wearing quite nicely. On occasion she could stand, maybe even wobble for a few steps–but most of the time she just crawled about on her hands and knees. She barely even seemed to notice or care when her diaper suddenly became soggy–or when the back of it expanded and sagged between her legs. Her chatter was becoming a little harder to understand as words and letters began to meld with each other.

From that point on, it was mostly more of the same. Missy was already Missy–it was just watching her further develop, slowly, into who she was at the end of the 8th month–a drooling, diaper-filling baby who didn’t think twice about swallowing a plastic cock at just the sight of it. Or, with her diaper pulled down, allowing herself to be bent over and fucked from behind by one of the nurses wearing a strapped-on toy.

Missy smiled, pushing the tablet away from her. She had seen enough, and she was very happy with what she had seen.

“Annie?” she called out. “I made a decision.”

She entered the room so quickly that he had to assume she had never gone that far away in the first place. Perhaps she had been watching Missy watch the footage of her life for the last few months.

“And what did you decide, Missy? This is a very big decision, so I don’t want you to feel like you have to rush or…”

“I want it,” Missy said. “I want it all. And I want it now.”

Later

Missy’s thumb is in her mouth as Daddy carries her through the halls of the facility. She passes by smiling, happy, faces–and she feels like she should know who they are, but their names escape her.

She holds on to him for dear life. He’s so strong. She’s never felt so safe in her life.

“You take good care of her now, you hear?” a woman with short red hair said to Daddy.

He laughed. “Believe me, I’ll be taking the best care of this little princess.”

“And you,” the woman says to Missy. “You’re going to take good care of him too, yes?”

With a sudden grunt, Missy felt a warm wave of soft mush seep into the back of her diaper. This was followed by a trickle of pee. As quickly as it happened, the area around them was consumed by the ripe stench of her diaper.

Missy blushed a little, but otherwise showed no sign of regret. Instead, she just nodded in response to the woman’s question.

“C’mon, little one,” Daddy said. “Let’s get you home.”