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daisydemure · 3 days

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I Want to Be Normal (AB/DL Short Story)

Cereal.

Milk.

Spoon.

Cassius didn’t want to admit to himself that a bowl of Frooty Swirls would be the highlight of his day off, but he couldn’t think of what else would top it. His slim selection of friends were busy, or lived on the internet, accessible only through his phone, so his free time would be used to run errands and binge re-runs. At least the cereal was crunchy and sweet.

He checked his phone, scrolling social media as he chewed the froot-flavored cereal. Someone had posted a picture from an ABDL meetup, showing three diapered butts arranged in a row, with a caption about how awesome their week had been.

He felt the impulse to leave a reply, but had no idea what to say. Jealousy overwhelmed his feelings, and Cassius knew that if he tried to respond, he’d just come off as lonely, so he scrolled away.

It didn’t help. Someone else was talking about how nice their Mommy was. Another user was bragging about both his Littles. Everyone had friends, or partners, or just someone.

Everyone except Cassius.

He had his Frooty Swirls.

He’d gone to a few meetups and munches, but social anxiety had left him paralyzed and quiet throughout–he’d barely said a word, and doubted that anyone liked him or wanted him to return. Sure, they’d all been attending the ABDL meetup, same as him, but…he was different. He didn’t have what they had, they made it seem so natural.

Pursing his lips, he set aside his phone, focusing on the cereal. The Frooty Swirls had been the same since the late 80s, and just tasting them always got him in a Little headspace. It was the only thing that felt like a socially acceptable way to regress–indulging in fake sweeteners that reminded him of his childhood.

Reading the back of the cereal box, he skimmed the fluffy text explaining a game. ‘I’ve lost all my frooty magic! Can you find all six froots and make a wish?’

Choosing to engage, he scanned the box, looking for the cereal shapes. Oranges were in the corner, lemons were behind the nutrition information, berries–they never did say what kind of berry it was supposed to be–were hidden on a fake tree. Limes he found right behind the mascot, cherries were underneath a word search, and finally, he found apples right inside the Frooty Swirls logo at the top of the box.

He’d won. It was childishly simple, but that was kind of the point–this was his singular chance to regress every day.

And, hey, the box said that if he won, he could make a wish.

(I wish…I wish I didn’t just have interests that a handful of people online could relate to.)

(I wish I was normal.)

…

Cassius steered his way through the grocery store’s bread aisle, lost in his phone as he got the shopping out of the way. He made it all the way to the end of the aisle before realizing he hadn’t added anything to his cart since the dairy section.

He’d done it again, losing himself in internet jealousy.

Frowning, he pocketed his phone, resolving not to go onto social media anymore until he was done with his errands. Turning around, he pointed his cart towards…

He hesitated. A couple stood in front of him, two men in their thirties, walking down the aisle in Cassius’s direction. They were holding hands, which was cute, but not what made him stop and stare.

One of the men was wearing a pair of shortalls with a snug baby blue shirt beneath. He wasn’t sucking on a pacifier or anything, but his whole demeanor just seemed Little, and Cassius couldn’t help but glance down around his waist.

The crotch of his shortalls seemed to be a bit puffy, but that might have just been–

“Excuse me?” the more mature of the two asked.

Cassius froze–he’d been caught staring, trying to size up whether the man in shortalls was wearing a diaper. “I–uh–” he stammered, searching for an excuse.

“Can you reach that for us? ‘Bare Bread’, right next to the whole grain.” He stepped back and pointed, nodding with his head towards his partner. “This one’s picky, he’ll only eat the crustless kind.”

Blinking, Cassius caught up to the situation. Both men were on the shorter side, while Cassius always loomed in every conversation. “Oh, sure.” Nodding, he grabbed the crustless bread from the top shelf, passing it to the man. “Here.”

“Say ‘Thank you’,” the man said, nudging his shortall-clad partner.

“Thank you,” the one in shortalls said, blushing and looking down at his feet.

Cassius stood there, stunned, as the two men left him to resume their shopping routine.

(Are they…did I just…) he thought. He would have bet anything that they were ABDL, or at least in a daddy dom/little boy relationship, but…they were so brazen about it.

Then again, maybe it only stood out to Cassius because their dynamic was already on his mind. Shaking his head, he resumed his shopping, filling up his cart.

He had just managed to shake off the feelings of uncertain jealousy and surprise when he got to the checkout aisle, and then it snapped back in full force.

On a spinning rack, right next to the candy, were pacifiers.

His heart began to flutter, looking around as though he’d been caught in something, but nobody paid him any mind. He looked at the pacifiers again–they weren’t labeled as ‘for adults’ or anything, but some of them seemed too big for any baby.

Looking away, his eyes fell on the magazine rack, and his anxiety spiked further. A celebrity was pictured on the cover of a tabloid magazine, some candid paparazzi photo, and her midsection had been highlighted by a red circle. Next to it, photoshopped to show off bare skin, the magazine depicted her in a bunny-print diaper.

Cassius stared, eyes widening, until the cashier cleared his throat. “Sir?”

He looked up. The line in front of him had cleared–(how long had I been staring?)–and it was his turn to check out.

Stepping forward and setting his groceries onto the checkout conveyor, he tried to put it out of his mind.

…

Flipping through the magazine options at the auto center, Cassius was relieved to find that they were all normal. Hot rod cars, sports gossip, the kind of thing he’d expect from a magazine rack–no diaper wearing mechanics just springing out at him from nowhere. Just his same old auto shop, where he’d been coming for tune-ups and oil changes since he earned his permit as a pimply teen.

Taking a seat by the coffee maker, he settled in to wait. The oil change wouldn’t be long, but he actually liked the short break it offered him–a chance to just kick up his feet and do nothing for a bit. He patted himself on the back for how effective his self-imposed social media break was already proving to be.

This relative relaxation lasted for only a few moments, until he heard a distinct ratta-tatta-ratta-tatta clicking sound roll up right outside the auto shop. Glancing over his shoulder, he identified the noise in a heartbeat–a tomboyish woman about his age was half standing on a bicycle, playing cards jammed between the spokes to produce the overt rattle. The rider wore elastic shorts and a Transformers T-shirt with a matching backpack, her outfit capped off–literally–with a baseball cap turned backwards on her head.

Frowning, Cassius watched the woman hop off her bike and walk it in through the auto shop’s doors.

Getting the attention of the man behind the desk, the cyclist said, “My front tire keeps losing air, Mister B–you think you can take a look at it? I think I’ve got a leak.”

Mr. Burnett, a man in his fifties who’d worked at the shop for as long as Cassius had been driving, smirked at the new customer. “Two, by the looks of it.”

Eyes widening, Cassius darted his gaze down, spotting two rather distinct crescent-moon shaped wet marks on the newcomer’s elastic shorts.

The woman blushed slightly, but seemed more flustered than upset, muttering, “Aw, dangit…”

Chuckling, Mr. Burnett nodded to the side. “Go and get yourself cleaned up in the bathroom, I’ll get that tire checked out.”

Cassius realized he was blushing more deeply than the customer whose… whose diaper had leaked. Ripping his gaze away, he fumbled for a distraction, reaching for the TV remote by the coffee maker. He hoped to just give himself something to focus on so that he wouldn’t stare at the obviously diapered man who’d just rode in on his bicycle.

Blinking for a moment, the old tube TV hummed, then began to display some reality show garbage. A dating show, just the sort of gameshow pablum he needed. Cassius almost sighed in relief, until he saw a woman waddle onto screen, clad in little save for a onesie and the diaper obviously poking out from beneath it.

Face turning bright red, he stammered, looking around to see if anyone else in the waiting room had reacted to the absurd images on screen. “I–is anyone else seeing this?”

A woman sitting next a few chairs down glanced up from a quiet conversation with her husband, then rolled her eyes at the screen. “Ugh,” she said, shaking her head. “I know–it’s like they don’t know how to write shows anymore, it’s all reality sex appeal crap.”

(What?) Flicking off the TV, Cassius got to his feet, walking to the desk. “Is–is my car ready?”

Mr. Burnett glanced over his shoulder, through the window into the garage, and then turned back and nodded. “Looks like it’s being parked just now. You’re all paid up, so you’re ready to go.”

“Great,” Cassius said. “I think I need to get some air.”

Behind him, the woman he’d spoken to stood, whispering to her husband, just loud enough that Cassius overheard. “Sweetie, you’re messy–did you remember to pack the diaper bag?”

Looking over his shoulder, Cassius saw the woman’s husband flush and shake his head.

Feeling like he might explode from awkward confusion, it was all Cassius could do not to break into a run as he fled the auto shop.

…

Cassius couldn’t deny the truth any longer as he wandered into the department store, confronted immediately with the spring fashion displays.

Some of it was expected–Bikinis, various styles of shorts and tops and trendy drop waist dresses, but right next to it were onesies, shortalls, and rompers in adult sizes. Not plain ones, either–the sizing made it clear these were for adults, yet the design had an overtly juvenile streak. ABDL clothing in everything but name.

Even modern, chic adult diapers sat stacked in packages, ready for customers–their trendiness was underlined by the fact that several models were displayed on posters wearing them.

He couldn’t begin to guess how this had happened, but he couldn’t argue with the spring sale section in front of him.

His interests were…normal.

And he couldn’t help himself. Picking out a onesie with a slightly retro-style print on the front, he glanced about, as though someone might see him and catch him in the act of buying clothing that was there for him to buy.

Hunching his shoulders and slipping off to the changing area, he found the first open room, ducked inside, and fumbled with opening the snaps on the onesie. It felt like every other experience he’d ever had in a changing room: awkward.

Still, as he got out of his shorts and shirt and into the new garment, it also felt right. He was just trying something on. A popular, maybe even a slightly boring bit of fashion.

Stepping out, he looked at himself in the mirror. The onesie was cute on him. And it fit, too–he didn’t have to worry about it not being long enough for his tall frame, he could see it on him. Maybe a bit baggy between the legs, but all in all, he couldn’t help but grin as he saw it.

Then a woman walked by and all his newfound confidence vanished, shrinking away. He blushed, crossing his arms over his chest, looking to the door of his changing room so he could retreat as quickly as possible.

Noting his suddenly demure posture, the woman stepped back. She was about his age, and well over a foot shorter than him, but she carried her posture with confidence and quiet empathy as she raised her hands in a placating gesture. “Hey–no need to be embarrassed, tall guys can be little too.”

“I…” Cassius began, his blush still plastered firmly on his face. “It’s…”

“I know, fashion magazines always find the smallest guy they can,” she said, rolling her eyes. “But you can’t let that shape how you think about yourself–you look cute in that onesie, and you don’t need to be four feet tall on your tip-toes to pull it off.”

Eyes widening, Cassius couldn’t quite handle the rush of emotions that flooded him. “I–you think I’m cute?”

She smiled, a tiny giggle escaping her, but it wasn’t condescending. “Though–it’d fit better with the proper bottoms, those onesies really need something to pad them out around the waist.”

Looking back at himself in the mirror, Cassius blinked a few times–his vision had begun to blur. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure thing,” she said.

“You don’t think it’s weird?”

She shook her head, smiling. “Not at all, sweetheart. It takes all sorts, doesn’t it? Tall littles, short bigs–even boring people who don’t want a dynamic. I don’t think I’d ever want to be someone’s little girl, but that doesn’t mean I don’t understand the appeal.” Shrugging, she nodded to the onesie on his body again. “You should get that.”

“Yeah? Does it make me look good?” he asked, turning to glance at himself in the mirror again.

“It makes you look happy,” she replied.

Nodding, he mumbled a thank you, shocked and overjoyed as he stepped back into the changing room. His fingers fumbled as the crotch snaps as he undressed, returning to his old clothes.

The old clothes.

(I don’t have to hide,) he realized, holding his old shirt in his hands. (I can just be…me.)

Pulling it over his head, he grabbed the onesie, rushing out of the changing room. There was just one more opportunity he couldn’t wait for–he’d been waiting too long already.

He searched around the store, looking from side to side as he left the changing room. He passed a package of diapers in his size and snagged them on the way, but that wasn’t his real goal.

(I just casually picked up a pack of diapers, in public,) he realized, shocked, but he had little time to think about it as he found the woman he’d been looking for, putting back a blouse on the rack she’d gotten it from.

“Hey,” he said, approaching, raising a nervous hand, stammering over his words. “I know we just talked, but–hi. I’m Cassius.”

She looked up at him and smiled, glancing down to the purchases in his hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Cassius,” she replied, looking back up to his face. “I’m Tilly.”

“I was just–well, I wondered if you…” he began, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well…this is dumb, we barely talked, but–”

Grinning, Tilly let his stammering fizzle out and nodded. “A coffee date would be lovely,” she confirmed, cutting through his uncertainty. “Or you can get juice, if you’re too little to have caffeine.”

A smile spread across his face, and Cassius bubbled with more excitement than he could ever remember feeling since adolescence.

“Just one condition, though,” Tilly added, cutting into his glee just slightly.

Cassius nodded. “Of course, what is it?”

Her eyes lowered to the package of diapers under his arm, the onesie still folded over them. “Be sure you dress your best, okay?”

The End

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daisydemure · 13 days

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Hello, mommies, and welcome back to another episode of our “Sissy Re-education and Training” series, brought to you by the Sissy-corp! I’m your resident mommy, Yvonne, and the lovely girl next to me is Little Sissy Tiffany. Say “hello” little Tiffy.

“Hewwo evwybody!”

Little Tiffy is in our care at the Sissy-corp facilities because she just couldn’t make it as a man, or as a loving husband. Infidelity; being rude to his wife; always leaving messes for her to clean up; expecting her to cook every meal for him; the list goes on. He was much less of a man, and much more-so an overgrown baby. So he, or should I say, SHE’S been enrolled in our sissy-maid program.

In this program Tiffy’s been learning how to cook, clean, serve, and effectively pleasure her former wife, now mommy, and any lovers her mommy chooses to have. More importantly, though, Little Tiffy has been learning the ins-and-outs of how to be the bestest, widdle, baby gurwl a mommy could ever ask for! Isn’t that wight, widdle Tiffy?

“I wuv being a good gurwl fow my mommy!”

God, she’s just too adorable. Our training session today is about how to effectively reward your sissy while reinforcing her baby-ish behavior. Tiffany, here, was without a doubt one of our hardest cases to break, thus far, especially when it came to making her use her diapers. But, thanks to our patented “Rewards and Reinforcement” program. Even a stickler, sissy like Tiffany can be turned into the most dutiful, diaper dumper.

When rewarding your sissy, you first want to start off with a reward routine. For Tiffany, we had her on a schedule of getting a reward every 5 messy diapers she made. We kept her on this routine for three weeks, then the fourth week we changed her routine to a reward every 10 messy diapers. Week number 5; we upped it to every 15, then on week 6, every 20. After week 6, her rewards were then shifted to mommy’s discretion, meaning her rewards were completely randomized. This kept Tiffany always wanting to fill her diapers in hopes of the next reward. Tiffy, how many messy diapers have you made since your last reward?

“One….One hundwed and twendy nine.”

Such a good girl, Tiffy, I’m amazed you can even count that high! Now, even though Tiffany’s reward system may seem a little extreme, we do recommend you keep your sissies on very similar regiments. Now, onto how you properly reward your sissy.

To properly reward your sissy, you’ll want to make sure she’s in her Official, “Sissy-corp clitty cage”, and has some form of a buttplug in, the larger, the better. Then, before you’ve put your sissy in her diaper, you’ll want to make sure you’ve attached the electrodes of your “Sissy-Corp Rewards Device” to both her cage and her booty-plug.

Before I start the machine I always love making my sissies get on their hands and knees. I feel it really enforces that submissive mentality, but you can put your sissy in whatever position you feel is best. Then, I start the machine in 3…2…1….aaaaand watch how quickly Tiffany melts!

“UNGH! MOMMY! UNGH! IT FEEWS SO GOOOOOOOOOD!”

Now, at this point, I love grabbing and pulling Tiffany’s hair. Her wife told me she always used to be too rough in the bedroom, so I love returning the favor. Always remember to make your sissy tell you why they’re getting rewarded! Tiffy, why are you getting buzzies today?

“Ungh! B-because I made poopies in my diapuurr wike a g-g-good widdle guuurrll!”

You always wanna make sure you’re reinforcing to your sissy WHY they are getting to make spurties in their diapies. Always remind them, as well, that they are getting to make rewardies INSIDE of their diaper, just like the little baby they are. Speaking of rewardies, Tiffany is due to blow any second here!

“UNGH! MOMMY I MAKING GOO GOO’S! It feews so so goooood!”

Wow, Tiffany, I think that was 45 seconds, a new record for you! I forgot to mention, little Tiffy, here, is also a premature ejaculator. Once again, I’d like to thank you so much for tuning into our Sissy-Corp training session, and I look forward to seeing you again when we show you how to dress your sissy for going out in public. Tiffy has an upcoming date with her mommy to go see….

“Da new Bawbie Movie!”

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