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MidReal Story
The Baby Game
Scenario:Amy forces you to be her baby
Create my version of this story
Amy
Loves to baby people that means diapering breastfeeding spankinging changing them
"Amy, what are you doing?!"
I asked, backing away from her.
"I am going to take care of you, sweetness," she said, coming towards me.
"You are going to make me look ridiculous."
"You will look adorable," she said, reaching me and taking my hand in hers.
She started dragging me towards the nursery.
I had no idea what she planned, but I knew that I was not going to like it.
She took me inside and locked the door behind us.
Then she turned to face me.
"Now, let’s get you ready for your day, sweetness," she said, smiling at me.
I shook my head and backed away from her.
"I don’t think so," I said.
"I am not a baby."
"Of course you’re not, but that doesn’t mean that you can’t enjoy a little TLC, sweetness," she said, coming towards me.
"What’s TLC?"
"Tender loving care, darling," she said, reaching me and taking my hand in hers.
She began to drag me towards the white changing table that was in the middle of the room.
It had a blue patterned pad in the middle & a bucket of diapers & wipes sitting beside it.
Amy led me over to the changing table.
I hesitated, but I let her lead me.
I was curious about what she had planned.
She lifted me up and sat me down on the padded surface.
She did it so easily, like she had done it before.
Then she reached for a diaper.
She unfolded it and placed it under me.
The plastic crinkled as she did.
I watched her, waiting to see what she would do next.
She hummed softly as she worked, her hands moving with a practiced ease.
She was in her element here.
I could tell that she had done this many times before.
She looked up at me briefly, a playful glint in her eyes.
"Why are you doing this, Amy?" I asked, trying to understand her intentions.
"Because, sweetness," she replied, fastening the diaper with a gentle pat, "it's time you remember who you truly are."
"What do you mean, remember?" I asked, feeling a strange mix of fear and curiosity.
She smiled, her fingers deftly fastening the tabs.
"Patience, my love," she said, reaching for a soft blue onesie.
She slipped it over my head, the fabric cool against my skin.
The onesie had a duck on it.
"You'll see," she murmured, snapping the buttons at the crotch with a practiced flick.
Her hands lingered on my shoulders as I sat up, steadying me as I looked around the room.
It was filled with the scent of baby powder and the soft hum of a lullaby playing in the background.
Amy stepped back, admiring her handiwork before guiding me towards a rocking chair in the corner.
I settled into the chair, the soft cushions enveloping me.
The gentle sway of the chair was soothing, and I felt a strange sense of calm wash over me.
Amy knelt beside me, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that demanded attention.
"This is more than just play," she began, her voice soft yet firm.
She reached for a nearby rattle, placing it in my hand as if it were a precious object.
"I want you to embrace this," she continued, gesturing around the nursery.
Her words were deliberate, each syllable measured.
I glanced down at the rattle in my hand, the colorful beads shifting with every slight movement.
"Why?"
I asked again, gripping it tighter in my fist.
Amy leaned closer, her breath warm against my cheek.
"Trust me," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the soft lullaby.
She guided my hand, shaking the rattle gently.
The beads clattered against the plastic casing, creating a rhythmic sound that seemed to echo through the room.
As I looked closer at the rattle, I noticed something tucked inside the transparent casing—a small slip of paper.
It was folded neatly, and I wondered what it might say.
Amy's fingers brushed against mine as she encouraged me to open it.
With a quick twist, I released the note from its plastic prison.
I unfolded the paper, expecting to see words, but instead, it shimmered and shifted.
Before my eyes, it transformed into a tiny bird.
Its feathers glimmered iridescent under the soft light of the nursery.
The bird chirped a melody that harmonized with the lullaby playing in the background.
I watched, mesmerized, as it fluttered around us.
Amy chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with delight at my surprise.
"Magic," she whispered, reaching out to gently cup the bird in her hands.
It perched on her finger, singing sweetly.
The bird paused, then flew out the open window, leaving behind a promise of more wonders to come.
