Personalias's Flash Fictions

Chapter 5
No Choice

Chapter Description: A flash fiction in which you are mentally regressed and perfectly devoted to your "Mommy"

You’re in bed.

Making love to Mommy.  

She’s wearing nothing.

Neither are you.

Except for your diaper.

“Faster, baby,” she moans. “Faster.”

You obey, thrusting into her as best as you can.

No penetration.

Pure friction.

The only lubricant you have is the wet, pulpy feeling from your diaper. 

Your dick hasn’t been wet with anything save your own piss since don’t know how long.

Literally.

You don’t know.

You’re not allowed to know.

Mommy moans turn into giggles. “That’s right baby. Just a little longer.  Let Mommy try for her third orgasm, first…”

“Then I can cum?” you ask.

“Then you can cum.”

Your gyrating intensifies. You balance yourself and adjust so that you’re sucking on her tits with her legs wrapped around you, you humping her as best as you can given your compromising condition.  You know she likes it.  You like it too.  You have to. 

You have no choice.

“Awww, someone’s hungry,” Mommy teases.  “It’s okay baby, you’re allowed.”

Mommy used to have a different name.

You used to think of her in so many different ways.

Not anymore.

You’re not allowed.

Only Mommy.

A cramp pushes through you.  Those pills Mommy has you take to make it easier to poop are kicking in. 

You want to ask her to stop; take a break. 

Go potty.

But you’re not allowed.

Despite yourself, you slow down and unlatch from Mommy’s breasts. 

“What’s the matter, honey?” she coos up at you. “Does your tummy hurt?”

You’re allowed to answer questions. “Yes, Mommy.”

“Do you have to make pushies?”

“Yes, Mommy.”

Lovingly, she strokes your hair. “It’s okay honey. You’ve got your diaper on.  Your diaper is so that you can do all the important things you need to do and be happy.”

“Yes…Mommy.”  Your eye twitches.  You’re being given permission to make pushies. It’s not the permission you want.  But you’re not allowed to ask for permission, it can only be given.

“Such a good baby.”  In the darkness of the bedroom, Mommy sees your distress.  “Baby? Do you not want Mommy to give you permission to make pushies in your diaper?”

You’re still humping her.  Through the cramps. Through the conversation.  Through the anguish.  You haven’t stopped.  She hasn’t given you permission to.

You’re not allowed to stop.

“Yes Mommy…no Mommy…I…I…”  God you wish you could cum.

She’s still grinding back beneath you.  “It’s okay, sweetie.  Mommy understands. Mommy will take away your pushy permissions.”  Any relief is short lived.  “Tomorrow we’ll let you watch your special video again and then you won’t have to wait to make pushies. You’ll just go as soon as your body tells you it’s time to go.”

Those videos.

It all started there.

Maybe?

It’s so hard to tell.

This could be night one. 

This could be night always.

You could be imagining things.

You don’t know.

You’re not allowed to.

You just know that whenever you watch that special video that you and Mommy got together, you lose something, have it locked away behind a wall that your mind can no longer access.

The first thing was the ability to take off your diaper by yourself.  Or what to call or think of Mommy besides ‘Mommy’.

First thing tomorrow, you’re going to start pooping your diaper like you were never potty trained.

Yay?

Were you into this Mommy/baby stuff before the videos?  Did you wear diapers before?  Did you know Mommy before this?

You don’t know.

Access denied.  Not allowed.

“Tell you what,” Mommy says. “Make pushies on purpose one last time and then you can cum. Okay?”
“Yes Mommy!”

You close your eyes.

You grunt.

You push.

And like someone stepping on a tube of toothpaste the poop.  After the initial seal is broken, your body goes on autopilot, pushing it out.

“That’s right. Baby’s using his diaper for everything now, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Mommy…” you pant, still in the midst of filling your pants.

“Now cum, little mush tush.”

One…

Two…

Three…

That’s how many little bump and grinds you needed to push yourself over the edge. You start spurting cum into the front of your diaper right as your bowels are achingly pushing the last of the mess. 

It used to be so hard cumming into anything but another person or a tissue, now it’s nearly impossible to imagine you ejaculating into anything else.  It’s as natural as peeing your diaper now.  As natural as pooping your diaper will be tomorrow morning after the video.

“MOMMY!” You scream while you go over the edge. “MOMMY!”  Unlike the other two functions of the diaper, you have to announce your climaxes by calling out her name. “MOMMY!”

“Good baby,” she whispers. She rolls you off of her and you collapse into a post orgasmic puddle.  Mommy goes for number orgasm number four by herself.

You lay perfectly still like you’re supposed to, stewing in your mess.  When she’s done, Mommy helps you stand up and roll off the bed.

“Come on,” she whispers. “Let’s get you changed and then Mommy will put you down in your crib.”

If there was ever a time when you and Mommy actually slept in the same  bed, you no longer remember it.  You take her hand and toddle after her into your nursery.

You hop up on your changing table and lay there in a haze while she changes your diaper. 

Wipes you.

Powders you.

Puts a fresh diaper on you.

Then she has you hop off and walk to your crib.  She gives you a kiss good night.  “Sweet dreams, little one.”

She raises the bars. 

You can’t get out.

You close your eyes knowing you’ll most likely wake up wet.

Tomorrow you’ll have a full day of watching your special videos, doing chores around the house, and generally doing anything that Mommy tells you to do… including playing with baby toys, drinking from your bottle, or taking medicine that makes it easier for you to use your diapers.

You’ve never been happier.

You don’t have a choice.