>>23094
>>23094
Thanks for the kind words! Busting out a hundred words or so when I'm terminally horny is a skill of mine. I've written some fairly popular ABDL stories over the years.
To be honest, I like both angles, either the more willing side or the less willing and more humiliating side. I think the world is big enough for both angles as well. There's something super hot about the idea of both of those angles existing in the world, especially in very, very close proximity.
Think about a scenario like this: You're a resistant girl. It's common to be like this, almost all girls are at least hesitant when their moms start regressing them, and it's not uncommon for a girl to be like you: sobbing at every episode of wet sheets or panties, tearfully bidding farewell to school when you mom withdraws you from your classes.
Once you're out of school, your adulthood is as good as gone. Mommy is in control of everything now, and there's not a single waking moment that you won't spend with her. Now that the mask has finally dropped, packages of baby supplies begin to trickle in.
You can still count. There are two sets of everything. Two changing mats, a diaper bag with double the pouches. Hell, even the stroller Mom's bought has two seats.
As you sit in your playpen, you hear your mom call your sister. There's no point in hiding anything from you, there's nothing you can do about it, so Mom explains what's been going on at home. Your sister is a year older than you, and so she's made it out. She's off in college now. She doesn't have to come back home if she doesn't want to.
You hear Mom ask your sister to come home, and your heart drops when you start to realize, even only hearing half the conversation, that your sister... is agreeing. She's going to withdraw from college and come home. You literally cannot believe it. You had come tantalizingly close, but had been caught right before the finish line, but your sister had escaped! Now she was coming back?
Your sister drove straight home after the phone call with Mom and handed her car keys right into your mothers waiting hand. From that day on, you two were now twins. You two looked close enough in age and alike enough to pass as twins, and it was easier just to say that, rather than explaining.
Even though you're both now identical in dress and treatment, you two couldn't be more different. You haven't given up for a single instant, and your 'twin' sister, by contrast, has completely surrendered herself to Mom's efforts. You figured out pretty quickly that there was something strange with the TV that Mom let you both watch, but your sister didn't seem to care. She had gotten into a good college, and had a good future ahead of her, but now she seems genuinely surprised when her speak-and-spell tells her that the cow goes "moo!"
Worse yet, having 'twins' now has given Mom excuses, excuses that you overhear her telling the other moms in the neighborhood. Excuses about how the two of you together are a handful big enough that she can't even begin to think about putting you both back on track to mature again. About how the steady drumbeat of stinkies from you both makes it difficult to start thinking about potty training.
The last excuse makes your blood boil and freeze at the same time. To a chorus of neighborhood moms nodding their heads, Mom explains that you two are twins now, and she can't bear to start letting you both grow up again and let one of you surpass the other. She'll only begin when both of you are equally interested in it.
You stare across the playroom past all the neighborhood girls in situations similar to your own, and your eyes lock on your sister, dressed in a matching play-dress to yours. You and your sister sit on opposite ends of the spectrum in the playroom. You play quietly, and speak very little, while your sister burbles and gleefully clacks soft wooden blocks together. On her side of the room, the more pliant girls play together, either in parallel or in small groups. On your side, girls sit either in conversation circles or completely alone, idly shifting dollies in their hands. Even through the thick haze of your mother's programming, you can see a glint to your 'twin's' eyes. It's unlikely that she'll ever want to get back on the adulthood saddle. Mommy wants them both to go to college eventually, after all, and she hated college enough to leave it willingly and come... here, to this playgroup back in the suburbs, not as a mother, but as a participant.
Your sister's face suddenly shifts, breaking your focus long enough for you to lose sight of that spark of intelligence in her foggy eyes. Her brow furrows, and she begins to grunt softly. The girls closest to her don't seem to care, but some of the more peripheral ones notice, blush, and every so subtly scoot their bottoms further away from the inevitable oncoming stink.
Was that glint just a trick of the light? Once your sister goes back to playing, you try to find it again, but panic builds within you. If she's totally lost... if such a thing is even possible...!
You spend the rest of the group playdate desperately looking....