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A commissioned caption for MatrixFreak. I tried to make a story out of the submitter's name with the matching picture submission, which I hope is alright. ;)

There's also a small attached animation, which is nothing fancy, but was a bit of practice for whether I could make a slightly animated caption.

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There's a lot of text in this one which can be hard to read depending on the screen, browser, etc, the full text is below:

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It was just a fun question which a few sci-fi movies had brought up. How did she know what was real? Could she be tricked by some computer simulation of a whole world, or be a robotic host in a theme park who never questioned their reality, or even be in some TV show where her whole town was a soundstage?

Only crazy people took those questions seriously, she knew. For her it was just a bit of fun. Maybe it made her sound smart in conversations. People who took it seriously had Truman Delusion, as it was called, for her it was just another distraction when she was particularly bored.

As she tapped a pen at work, she supposed that she could at least rule out being the unwitting star of a TV show. Nobody would want to see her working, watching shows, hell, even reading the occasional bit of kinky porn when she was quite sure that nobody was looking. Of course, for that kind of porn she had to be especially subtle. Nobody could ever know that she was thinking about being made to wear and waddle about in... particularly thick... diapers. Really, she should be glad that she wasn’t in a show where everybody actually knew. Wasn’t she? She frowned. Of course she wasn’t. Such suspicions were the start of actual delusional thinking. She quickly put them away. There were other things to focus on.

Yet as she found herself unable to sleep that night, her fantasy grew. Goodness, there was one fun notion. What if... she was, like, in a simulation pod, and wearing diapers all the time. Perhaps that was the actual reason for her persistent diaper fetish, which was actually a strong hint about what was really  going on out-

Oh don’t be silly, she told herself. She most certainly could not sense a phantom diaper bound around her nethers, if she just focused hard enough. What a silly notion. In a huff she finally managed to roll over and get to sleep.

Normally she’d forget whatever she’d been thinking about the night before. So making breakfast the next morning was a particularly awkward experience when the damn phantom diaper sensation hadn’t gone away. She bit her lip and ignored it, going about her morning routine as best she could. Her imagination had gone a bit extreme on this one, and she wasn’t in the mood right now. She had stuff to do. Yet it followed her everywhere, like something which had always been there which just had to be acknowledged, the fantastic or terrifying fact that she was always diapered. Oh goodness. It was worse when all the thinking of diapers and their purpose ended up with her rushing to use the work bathroom at midday, which she’d normally avoid all day. When she sat down, she was almost convinced that now she could notice how she really actually filling a...

Her eyes fluttered. Gross gross gross. She wasn’t in the mood right now. Frankly this fantasy was a bit too extreme for her. The questions were just meant to be fun. The sooner she forgot about this particular notion the better. Thinking about those sci-fi movies as being real was what crazy people did. Of course, that’s what they’d want people to think if they were inside a– Gargh, she had work to do.

It followed her home through traffic, and seemed to only finally go away when she climbed into the warm shower. Except... Did the tinkling of the water sort of sound like nursery music? When she really focused on it? Had it always been there? Stupid. She decided that what she needed to do was masturbate - that would finally put the thought out of her head. Yet, as she begun to touch herself, she became sure that somebody was changing her, and that she was just covering the intimate experience with her own silly fantasy of being in control, when in truth something far more degrading was happening to her. That big fingers were intimately working wipes and powders and oils into her- gargh. She lost the mood. And to make it worse, the damn feeling of the diaper returned.

The next day was just as bad. And then the next, and the next. Sometimes she managed to almost forget... Yet... She began to imagine that she had a constant waddle at all times, and had just never noticed until now. She became sure that the notion was causing her to waddle, even in public. It became too much. She didn’t even know what wearing a diaper really felt like! She paused at that realization. Her entire imagined phantom diaper - which had taunted her for so long - was based on her ridiculous fantasies of what wearing a diaper would be like. In truth, if she wore them, she might find that they were very different. The absolute foolishness of her fantasy would be revealed, and she could finally put it to rest!

There was nothing satisfying about opening the non-descript brown box which the diapers arrived in. While her breath was taken away at the sight of the rows of white rectangles, it had been months since she’d been able to successfully masturbate without feeling like somebody was touching her, and she almost wanted to be done with the whole fetish now. Still... She lay on the bed and dutifully taped herself in. This would fix it... And wouldn't she know it - nothing. They were thin and pathetic and barely more than panties compared to what she had imagined. But different enough that now she knew. It had all been her imagination. How she’d imagined diapers was all wrong, as big, thick, firm, imposing things which she could never escape - so much that they would even invade a virtual reality, if she was in one, presenting itself as a diaper fetish. In the end, that was all it was, her own fetish which had gone out of control. But that was a relief, really. Now this awkward sensation could stop following her around everywhere she-

She frowned, unable to undo the diaper tapes. What on Earth? There was a strange softness over them. She glanced down, and blinked, not having remembered having put a blue onesie over her diaper. Where did she even get the blue onesie? Had she just forgotten for a moment? The diaper felt so thick, almost like she’d imagined it. Some sort of glass goggles were flickering off and being lifted from her eyes.

“Moooom! Baby is out of her playtime simulation early! She triggered one of the exits! I think the little brat actually put herself in diapers in it, after everything she said about not wanting or needing them!”

She blinked, looking up at an enormous girl. Perhaps college-aged. What the f- Huge footsteps rumbled her way. An even larger woman came to gaze down at her.

“Oh, she’s probably had enough. Her regression cartoons always take her too far in the mornings, but there’s no exact amount of time she needs in the game to counterbalance it. As long as she’s remembered words again so that she can listen to Mommy and her Big Sis. Oh! Did you see that! She knows who Mommy and Big Sis are. The sim has worked just fine. It’s just a rough approximation of her daily life back on her world, before the drone ships got her. Now come on, let’s get baby into her highchair for lunch, and then into one of her short pink day dresses. I want her to look extra cute when we go into the TV Studio, some producers are offering to buy the footage of these sims to show how little ones actually gravitate towards diapers to prove that they need them. All her friends at daycare will know that she’s famous and helped them out. Oh she’s getting fussy, she often does after a sim. Go fix her with her spanking paddle, then give her a cuddle and have her promise to be good. She always comes around.”


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