by Becca Little
“Stephen, what is this?” I looked at him and shook my head in a questioning manner.
“This is your new home. Your lies have brought this on you. For the next twelve months, until our fourth anniversary, you will be regressed. You are no longer Julie Crane, my wife—you are now my little girl.” He pulled another cigar out and lit it as I looked on in confusion.
“Your little girl? I don’t understand…” I looked around the room again. “Where did all of this stuff come from?”
“I had it brought here while we were out for dinner last night. Your lies have proved to me that you cannot be a good, submissive wife without proper training. I’m going to rebuild you into what you are failing to become. This journey will not always be pleasant, but it is necessary.” He puffed his cigar a few times and then removed his from his mouth.
“I know I made mistakes, but I really don’t think this is necessary. I made a mistake, but that doesn’t mean I need to start over. I don’t need a regression, and I certainly don’t need to be treated like a child…” I picked up a stuffed animal and threw it on the floor. “I’m not a child…”
“You act like one.” He walked to the door and pulled a key from his pocket. “I’m going to leave you here for a little while to think about this. I’ll be back in a few hours and you can let me know what you have decided.”
He walked out the door and clicked the lock, sealing me inside the strange room. I immediately ran to the door and tried the knob, only to find he had a new lock installed that could not be opened without a key. Frustrated with my captivity, I walked around the room and looked at everything. In the middle was a large crib, one big enough for me to use as a bed. I had no idea how he managed to get all of the things in the room so quickly. After a little more investigation, it dawned on me that he must have been planning this for a while. There was no way he had it all created after he found out about my lies. It had to be building for a while and the lies were just the tipping point. I wondered if he had created it a year prior when he first spanked me and waited for me to mess up again before he had it brought into the house. I really didn’t think I deserved what he had planned, but I realized accepting it was another test of my submission. He had made the decision as the head of the household, and if I bucked that decision, then I was not fulfilling the role I had sworn to uphold. It was a true catch twenty-two situation which had become a test of my ability to buckle before him and accept my punishment. The silence of the room was my tomb, and it would be a tomb for a year. Julie Crane was being cast aside and put away. For a year, I would live my life as his little girl, and I hoped that if I showed him I could be the good, submissive wife he wanted, I could walk by his side once again. It wasn’t long until I heard the key turn in the lock and I realized an hour had passed.
“Have you spent enough time in here to make your decision?” He asked as he closed the door.
“Yes…” I nodded my head. “I will do as you wish. If you think this is the punishment I deserve, then I will accept it.”
“Good, I’m glad to see that you’re finally learning your place in this relationship.” He smiled and it was the same warm smile he gave me when he was proud of me.
“I’m trying…” I said cautiously. “Just when I think I know it, I realize I have more to learn.”
“It is your open mind and your willingness to learn that makes me love you.” He reached for me and I walked into his open arms.
“I love you so much, Stephen.” I said as I kissed his cheek.
“I love you too. Are you ready to begin?” He hugged me tight for nearly a minute before I finally responded.
“Yes…” I felt butterflies in my stomach. I wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen, and I was nervous.
“Remove your clothes. It is time for you to say goodbye to the woman you are so you can become my little girl.” He reached into my robe and started to help me remove it.
Once the robe was removed, I stood naked in front of him. I started to worry about the arrangement, wondering if being his little girl meant that our romance would be put on hold. There was no way I could go for a year without his touch, and I couldn’t imagine him going a year without fucking his wife. I was pretty sure that would kill us both if we didn’t kill each other with our eagerness for pleasure. After my robe was gone, he removed the braided band I used to hold my hair up and let it fall freely around my shoulders. He walked me to a makeup table and sat me down in front of the mirror. I stared at my reflection and realized I was about to view myself for the last time as his wife. The conversion—regression as he called it—was about to begin. He moved brush through my hair until it was practically frizzy. His hand went down my arm and clasped my hand. I thought it was a romantic gesture until he locked his thumb and forefinger around my wedding set, removing the diamond and the circle of our unity as quickly as he had slipped it on my finger. He opened a drawer and dropped them both in. They landed with a clang that rang down into my soul. I had not been without them for more than a few minutes since they were put on my finger, and I felt the absence immediately. My finger rolled around the indentation on my hand and I felt tears welling up in my eyes.
“Can’t I keep that at least?” I asked in an almost begging tone.
“I’m afraid not. If you are good, you’ll have them back in a year.” He smiled and kissed my head.
A year was a very long time. It was an especially long time to be without my wedding set. I started to wonder about friends and family. Would we skip holidays this year with my family? Would I be forced to go home dressed as his little girl and face even more questions from my mother? I couldn’t lie to her again… Was my punishment to tell the ultimate truth and admit I was little more than a disobedient child who had to be punished by my husband? I wasn’t sure my mother or my father could handle that reality. Skipping the holidays completely seemed like an even harder reality for them to handle. I knew I would have to ask those questions at some point, but all I could focus on at the present moment was the stinging sensation of makeup remover. He doused my face in it and cleaned every speck of makeup from my pores. I had always caked on the makeup when I was younger because it made me look older. I had passed that point and it did little to conceal my age. In fact, I thought I looked a little younger as a fresh faced woman than I did with all of the paint. I noticed that the makeup table did not have any makeup at all, so I assumed I had applied my last coat of it for a while. His little girl would have to get by on her natural beauty because there was nothing to boost it.
“I’ve never understood why you wanted to hide such elegance under all of that gunk.” He ran his knuckles across my face and pushed my cheek to the side so he could kiss it.
“I just wanted to be beautiful for you.” I said as I closed my eyes and leaned into his hand.
“You don’t need it to be absolutely gorgeous.” He removed his hand from my face and extended it to. I placed my palm in his and he helped me stand.
The bedroom he had chosen to remodel into my nursery was one that had an attached bathroom with a garden tub. He brought me into the room and I found it had been fully stocked. The hanging shelves were filled with scented soaps, oils, and sugar scrubs. At least if I wasn’t going to be able to keep a layer of makeup on, I would be able to take care of my skin. The first thing he did was sit me on the edge of the tub and use one of the sugar scrubs to lather up my vagina. I always kept it well groomed, but it appeared he wanted it bare. Had I realized he wanted that, I would have been glad to do it, but he never mentioned it one way or the other. It didn’t take long for the thin layer of hair to be removed with a razor. He freshened up the areas I normally shaved, and then tossed the disposable razor in the trash. His shave was a lot closer and harsher than the one I gave myself, so there was a little bit of stinging which irritated and distracted me. It distracted me so much that I didn’t notice the enema bag until it was already hanging on the towel bar. He acted like it was a natural part of the bathroom sc
enery, but it was scary to me. The only thing I really remembered about them was getting the tube stuffed up my anus when I was sick as a child. My mother believed a good enema could cure anything and she was usually wrong. I had little choice in the matter as my husband’s little girl. He stood up and started mixed some ingredients in a bowl.
“The first enema you receive will be for cleansing, but rest assured, I can utilize them as punishment as well.” He poured water into the enema and then scraped the ingredients into it, sloshing them around until it was mixed.
“Punishment?” I knew they could hurt, but I had never viewed them as punishment.
“You will see soon enough as you spend the next hour letting your body purge itself of the poisons you forced into it.” He helped me up and bent me over the edge of the tub.
“The tub is cold…” I said with a shiver as I touched the bottom with my palms.
“This should warm you up.” He twisted his hand around the nozzle a few times to warm it up and then slipped it into my anus.
“Oww…” I felt pressure and stretching as it went deeper.
The nozzle for his enema was a lot longer and thicker than the ones I remembered. When it was pushed into my anus, it widened it considerably, making it quite uncomfortable once it was pushed all the way in. He turned a small knob which began to unleash the warm water and his additives at a rapid pace. I felt my stomach getting tight as it rushed inside of me and made it swell. At first it was just a warming sensation, but after a few seconds, it started to sting and burn. It was like someone was scrubbing my insides with a cleaning agent—I suddenly understood why he said it was designed to cleanse me. The thought of holding it for an hour was scary. It hurt, burned, and filled me with agony before it was done pumping the contents inside of me, but after what seemed like an eternity, it was finally done. He pulled the rubber hose out of the nozzle and then capped it with some sort of plug, pushing it even deeper. I didn’t expect it to remain after the enema was injected into me, but it seemed that it was going to stay stuffed inside my anus. My stomach was already cramping from the contents, and had I not had the plug, I’m certain I would have been unable to contain them. I slipped off of the edge of the tub and curled up in the floor. Everything hurt, and the cleansing agent he had inserted into me was causing spasms throughout my entire upper torso. I looked up at him with tears building up in the corner of my eyes.
“This really hurts…” I said with a loud whimper.
“It is necessary. The cleansing agent I put into it reacts to common poisons—alcohol, caffeine, nicotine, sugar, and other pleasurable toxins. The more of them you have in your system, the more it hurts. You’ll find that self-control and deprivation makes it mostly bearable.” He patted me on the head and looked at his watch.
“Do I really have to hold it an hour?” I squirmed around and clutched my stomach.
“Yes you do. I will return when the hour is over.” He stared at his watch for a couple of seconds and then walked out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I heard a click which confirmed I was locked inside.
I thought about what he said as I lay on the bathroom floor in agony. I had consumed almost everything he outlined, which meant the enema was connecting with them and punishing me for it. It almost felt my insides were being shredded. I knew I could avoid all of the dangerous elements he listed, but it would not be easy to give up my coffee or my unhealthy dose of sugar each day. The torment I felt was intense, so it would be necessary, even if I didn’t want to do it. I stayed doubled over as the seconds clicked by—at least I hoped they were clicking by. The room was rather dark with the door closed and there was no clock nearby. All I could do was focus on counting them myself, hoping I was at least somewhere near the right time. If I was, the end was near. My whole body shook with a mixture of misery and suffering. I thought I heard footsteps and I slowed my breathing, trying to determine if they were headed my way. After several agonizing minutes of trying to diagnose what I was hearing, his shoes came my way and I heard the door being opened. I sat up, trying desperately to present myself to him. I finally got to my knees as the light came back on and he found me there on my knees, ready for whatever the next moment held. He helped me to my feet and removed the plug, giving me the freedom to release all of the contents of the enema.
“Thank goodness…” I said with a relaxed sigh. “I thought I was going to die.”
“You would not have died. You may have suffered for a little bit, but I love you too much to let you die on me.” He leaned in and kissed my trembling neck.
“So as long as I stay away from alcohol, caffeine, nicotine and cake, I’ll be good?” I asked, looking up at him.
“Something like that. You’ll figure out what to stay away from in time.” He leaned over and started to run a bath.
I felt like I badly needed to feel the warm water on the outside, even if it was just a few moments to relax. Despite having the warm liquid inside of me, the pain had caused me to chill, almost like a hot fever would cause chattering teeth. Once the bath was done, he helped me into it and I submerged myself up to my nose in the bubbles. The bath smelled like sugar and roses which washed over me and brought a soothing effect. I sat there for a few minutes while he washed my hair with baby shampoo, taking care to scrub my scalp and soap each clump of hair. His strong nails removed more dirt from my head than I thought was ever possible. Once my hair was clean, he started to scrub me with a long bath brush, starting with my shoulders and working his way down my back. He managed to scrub all of the spots I could never easily reach, and by the time he was done, I was feeling cleaner than I had ever felt in my life. It was almost like being reborn thanks to the shave, enema, and bath. The water drained from the tub and he turned on the shower, rinsing me until all of the soap was gone. Once that was done, he dried me with a towel and helped me out of the tub. My hair was combed and blown dry, leaving soft curls that he pulled up into two tight pigtails. His touch made me want him, and I wasn’t sure I could last much longer without having him inside of me. Being a little girl to the man I craved so much was going to be especially difficult.
“So…” I asked, reaching back behind me as he continued to fiddle with my hair. “Do I get any of this while I’m your little girl?” I stroked his cock through his pants.
“Oh you’ll get more of it than you can handle.” He slapped my bare bottom hard and pushed it to the side. “You’ll get everywhere…” A thumb slid towards my anus and I tried to tighten my muscles, but he buried it in my tight hole.
“Oh god…” I shook my head. “Not that…”
“You’ll give me whatever you want. A little girl never tells her Daddy no.” He removed his thumb and took me by the hand. “Now, let’s go get you dressed.”
I couldn’t help but think about what he said as we walked hand in hand. We had discussed anal sex a couple of times over the years, but he never pushed for it when I told him I wasn’t entirely comfortable with it. I was generous with my mouth and of course I wanted nothing more than to feel his cock inside of my pussy, but there was something degrading about anal sex. It didn’t seem like there was anything sensual about it. It was him taking his pleasure from a hole while I got nothing from it—at least it was my perception. Out of curiosity, I had fingered my anus and even slid a dildo in there once to see what it was like, but I hadn’t found anything worthy of bringing up. If it was what he truly wanted, then I would have to give it to him. I would have been willing had he pushed for it, but he always seemed to drop the subject when I said I wasn’t sure. He wasn’t the kind of man to let it go if he really, really wanted to fuck me there. I had learned that when I refused him phone sex the year before. If he wanted it now, then I would have no choice but to let him have it. There was no way I could deny him pleasure when I wanted it so bad myself and if I had to ride his cock with my asshole, I would do that to get him inside my pussy. He took me to the other side of the room to a table that had a smooth satin top. I had no idea
what it was for. I looked at him with confusion as he pointed to it.
“Go ahead and climb up here.” He reached over and patted it.
“What for?” I reached out and touched the soft surface.
“I have to put on your diaper.” He opened the bottom drawer on the dresser which was next to the table and removed a diaper.
“A diaper!? You have to be kidding!” My eyes grew as wide as saucers as I looked at it.
“No, you will start your life as my little girl from the very beginning. I will raise you from diapers and bottles into the beautiful young woman who stands by my side.” He patted the table again. “Climb on up.”
“Okay…” I hoisted myself up apprehensively.
Once I was on the table, he slid me around until my bottom was flat and my legs were spread. He reached into the dresser drawer again and pulled out a bottle of baby powder, tapping it onto my exposed crotch. The powder created a quick cloud as it settled on my freshly shaved pussy. The experience was a little humiliating, but he hummed while he worked, taking time to clean the area with a cloth and wipe away the remnants of excess baby powder. The diaper was unfolded and placed between my legs. He gripped my lower back and slid me across it, placing me bottom first onto the quilted surface. I couldn’t believe I was a grown woman being placed in a diaper like a child. He wrapped it around my waist and pushed the adhesive together, sealing it on me. I lay there looking up him and wondering what would be next. I had already been bathed, given an enema, and diapered. Being a defenseless baby was a lot more stressful than I expected. There were a million questions I wanted to ask, but I thought better of it. I would just have to go along with it and figure out what was waiting for me as it happened. The diaper was tight, and when he helped me down to my feet, I had to waddle just to move across the room in it.
