My First Story Road to Regresion (Prostrate Problems)

[naughty baby hubby]

Roy shuffled behind Avril to the bathroom, Mr. Snuggles clutched awkwardly against his chest. The teddy felt like a constant reminder of his humiliation, its oversized plushness mocking his predicament. Avril's giggles echoed behind him, each one like a needle pricking at his already frayed nerves.

The bathroom held another surprise – not one, but two potties. A smaller, brightly colored one sat on the floor, next to a normal toilet seat with a child-sized adapter.  Avril placed Mr. Snuggles on the smaller potty, her voice dripping with forced cheer.

"Here you go, Mr. Snuggles," she said, her voice high-pitched and childish.  "Show Roy how it's done!  Go poo-poo!"

Roy winced, the absurdity of the situation pushing him closer to his breaking point.  He wasn't a child, and the idea of mimicking this ridiculous scene was almost unbearable.

Avril's amusement faltered slightly.  She knelt before him, her eyes searching his face.  "Alright, alright," she said in a dismissive tone.  "You win this round.  Just get it done quickly, okay?"

Her tone was sharp, a hint of frustration breaking through her facade.  Roy took a small measure of satisfaction in that.  He wasn't completely powerless.

She unbuckled his dungarees and yanked down his Spider-Man pants with a rough tug.  The cold air against his bare legs sent a shiver down his spine.  He hated the way she treated him like a doll, a puppet to be manipulated.

As she plopped him on the cold plastic seat next to Mr. Snuggles, their eyes met for a brief moment.  A flicker of defiance, a silent understanding, passed between them.  It was a small thing, but it gave Roy a tiny spark of hope.

"There you go," Avril said, her voice strained.  "Shake that rattle when you're finished, okay?"

She slammed the bathroom door shut behind her, leaving Roy alone with his thoughts and the indignity of the situation.  He closed his eyes, focusing on the task at hand.  The shame was still there, but a new determination simmered beneath it.

He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him break.  He would endure this, play her game, but he wouldn't let it crush him.  With a strained grunt, he managed to finish his business, the childish rattle clutched tightly in his hand.  He wasn't a child, and he wouldn't be treated like one forever.

He shook the rattle with a force that surprised even himself, the sound echoing through the small bathroom.  A moment later, the door creaked open and Avril peered in.

"Done already?" she asked, a hint of surprise in her voice.

Roy met her gaze, a newfound steely glint in his eyes.  "Yes," he said, his voice firm despite the lingering shame.  "Can I wash my hands now?"

Avril hesitated, taken aback by his unexpected show of defiance.  "Fine," she muttered, leading him to the sink.The indignity of it all threatened to overwhelm Roy. Here he was, a grown man, forced to bend over like a scolded child while Avril inspected his work.  He clenched his fists, the anger a hot coal burning in his stomach.

Avril's movements were rough and impersonal, the baby wipes a stark contrast to the luxurious bath products he once used.  Each swipe was a violation, a reminder of his reduced state.  He winced, unable to control the sharp intake of breath.

"See?" Avril said, her voice laced with a smug satisfaction.  "That wasn't so hard, was it?  Just like a good boy."

The praise felt like another layer of humiliation.  He wasn't a good boy; he was a prisoner in his own body, forced to play a role he didn't want.  But beneath the anger, a thought flickered in his mind.

[mommasboy]

This is a great story. Very well written. I love the way it expresses the emotions they experience

[naughty baby hubby]

Shame burned in Roy's cheeks as Avril finished the demeaning task. Every touch was a violation, a constant reminder of his helplessness. He gritted his teeth, vowing to find a way out of this twisted game.

"Alright, then," Avril chirped, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness that did little to hide the tension in her eyes. "Let's see what we've got here in this little potty."

She reached down with a theatrical flourish, grabbing the plastic pot as if it were a prize. Roy's stomach churned. The thought of her parading the contents of his most private business in front of him, and potentially capturing it for her grotesque "baby album," was unbearable.

"There's no need for that," he forced out, his voice tight.

Avril's smile faltered for a second, a flicker of surprise crossing her face.  "No need?" she echoed, the sweetness in her voice replaced by a dangerous edge.  "But how will we know if you've been a good boy?  We need to see if you've done your 'poo-poo.'"

She reached for her phone with a predatory glint in her eyes. "Alright, show me when you're done," Avril chirped, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness that did little to mask the underlying tension.

Roy clenched his jaw, the childish command a fresh humiliation.  He closed his eyes, focusing on the task at hand, all the while vowing to find a way out of this twisted charade.

A moment later, a wave of relief washed over him. He opened his eyes, meeting Avril's gaze with a flicker of defiance.

"Done," he said curtly, holding the potty out in front of him like a shield.

Avril's smile faltered for a second, surprise flickering across her face.  "Already?" she echoed, a hint of something akin to disappointment in her voice.

Roy held the potty firm, refusing to let her dictate the pace of this game.  "Yes," he repeated, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands.

He knew what was coming next – the dreaded photo for the so-called "baby album." The very thought of it filled him with dread.

"Alright, alright," Avril said, a touch of impatience creeping into her voice.  "Let's see what we've got here." We need to see if you've done your 'poo-poo.'"

She reached out for the potty, but Roy instinctively recoiled.  "No pictures," he blurted out, the words Roy felt a surge of terror as Avril whipped out her phone. Holding a full potty was humiliating enough, but having a picture of it immortalized in her twisted "baby album" was a nightmare. Shame burned in his throat like acid.

"Don't you dare," he choked out, his voice a mix of anger and fear.  He knew he was pushing his luck, but the thought of that picture being used against him in the future was unbearable.

Avril's smile faltered for a second, surprise flickering in her eyes.  This wasn't the passive compliance she was used to.  "But Roy," she cooed, her voice dripping with fake sweetness, "it'll be a perfect picture for the album! 'Look at little Roy, all grown up and using his potty!' Everyone will love it.Roy's world went white hot with anger.  Avril might have faltered, but a new voice chimed in, even more grating.  "Apple," he snarled, his voice laced with venom, "don't you dare!"

Avrils phone, flashed its glowing screen, the picture of his humiliation captured for eternity.  A wave of nausea washed over him, the weight of the full potty suddenly unbearable.

Avril, emboldened by the phone's compliance, snatched the potty from his grasp.  "There, there, Roy," she cooed, her voice dripping with saccharine sympathy.  "See, Avril thinks you're a big boy for using the potty! Now, empty it and clean it up nicely.  We don't want any messes, do we?"

Roy stood frozen, a silent scream trapped in his throat.  Shame burned through him, but beneath it, a spark of defiance flickered, refusing to be extinguished.  He wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing him completely broken.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into his palms.  "Fine," he muttered, his voice tight with loathing.  He took the cleaning supplies Avril thrust at him, his movements robotic.  As he scrubbed at the plastic pot, the indignity of it all fueled his simmering anger.

"Why are you doing this?" he choked out, his voice barely a whisper.

Avril paused, a flicker of something crossing her face – annoyance? Uncertainty?  "Because you need to be taken care of, Roy," she said finally, her voice clipped.  "You're not a grown man anymore."Roy shuffled towards the bedroom, the sting of humiliation from the picture still fresh.  He grasped the doorknob, a sliver of defiance warring with the ingrained obedience.  He wouldn't let them break him, not entirely.

Opening the door, he scanned the dresser.  His stomach lurched.  There were no Captain America pajamas, no other superhero options. Just a single pair of his beloved Spider-Man pajamas and a stack of… pink princess pajamas adorned with sparkly unicorns and frills.

Disgust battled with confusion.  This wasn't a mistake, it had to be deliberate.  But why?  Was Avril trying to taunt him further?  Or was there something else at play?

He hesitated for a moment, then grabbed the Spider-Man pants.  Defiance simmered within him, but complete rebellion felt unwise.  He needed a plan, and a single pair of superhero pants wouldn't be enough.

He picked up one of the pink princess pants as well, the garish fabric a stark contrast to the red and blue of Spider-Man.  Holding them both, he returned to the living room, a silent challenge in his eyes.

Avril, perched on the sofa, looked up as he entered.  A flicker of surprise crossed her face when she saw the mismatch, replaced by a cruel smile as she saw the princess pants.

"Well, well," she cooed, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.  "Look at you, Roy!  Picking out your outfits just like a big boy!"

Roy ignored her, his jaw clenched tight.  He held out the Spider-Man pajamas.

"Spider-Man for me," he declared, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands.

Avril's smile faltered for a second, but she recovered quickly.  "Oh no  course not," she said, snatching the Spider-Man pajamas and shoving them onto the teddy bear.  "But what about you, Roy?  Don't you want to look pretty like a princess?"

Her voice dripped with forced cheer, the implication clear.  Roy met her gaze, his defiance hardening into a silent vow.

"No," he said simply, his voice surprisingly steady.  She held up the pink princess pants, the fabric mocking him with its absurdity.  "I don't wear pink."

Avril's smile faltered for a real moment this time.  A flicker of something akin to uncertainty crossed her face.  Was he actually defying her?

Before she could respond, Roy thrust the princess pajamas at her.  "Here," he said, his voice laced with a dangerous edge.    But I'm not wearing them."

The air crackled with tension.  Avril stared at him, the princess pants a flimsy barrier between them.  For a moment, it felt like they were locked in a silent battle of wills.



 The indignity of it all burned in Roy's throat, but beneath the shame, a flicker of hope danced.  He had pushed back, defied her in a small way, and she hadn't broken him.Roy's blood ran cold as Avril's grip tightened on his arm, dragging him towards the princess pants. Mortification burned through him, hotter and more painful than any physical slap.  He felt like a puppet, his body being manipulated against his will.

"No!" he roared, his voice raw with defiance.  He dug his heels in, resisting her pull.  "I won't wear them!  I'm not a little girl!"

Avril's smile, once sugary sweet, twisted into a sneer. "Oh, but in my house, Roy," she hissed, her voice low and dangerous, "you are exactly what I say you are."

She yanked him harder, and with a stumble, he landed in front of the pile of pink nightmares.  Tears welled in his eyes, a mix of anger and humiliation.  He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing him cry, though.
Anvril then yanked the pants up to his waist swiftly follow by his pale blue dungries Now thats better dinner is nearly ready bring Mr Snuggles with you and get in to the kitchen. Roy's stomach churned, not just from hunger but from the impending humiliation.  He watched with a mixture of disgust and resignation as Avril bustled around the kitchen, preparing "baby Roy's" dinner.  It wasn't real food – pureed mush in a bowl with a cutesy cartoon spoon.  The indignity of it all burned in his throat.

"Alright, open wide, baby Roy," Avril cooed, her voice laced with a sickening sweetness.  She strapped a bib adorned with cartoon animals around his neck, the whole scene a grotesque parody of childhood.

Roy clenched his jaw, refusing to cooperate.  He wouldn't play her game any further.

"Come on, now," Avril chirped, her voice losing its forced cheer.  "Don't be difficult.  Airplane coming in for a landing!"

She hovered the spoon towards his mouth, the contents threatening to spill.  Roy shut his mouth tight, a silent rebellion forming in his chest.

"Roy," Avril's voice turned hard.  "Open your mouth or there will be consequences."

The threat hung heavy in the air.  Roy knew she wasn't bluffing.  But giving in felt like surrendering the last shred of his dignity.

He locked eyes with her, his voice firm despite the tremor in his hands.  "I'm not a baby," he said.  "I can feed myself."

Avril's smile faltered for a second, replaced by a flicker of surprise.  Then, a cruel smile twisted her lips.  "Oh, but Roy," she purred, her voice dripping with mock concern, "you're much too messy to feed yourself.  Remember the last time?  Spilled food everywhere! We can't have that, can we?"

She held up her phone, a silent threat.  The picture of him holding the overflowing potty flashed in his mind.  He gritted his teeth.  He hated giving in, but the thought of that picture being used against him again was unbearable.

With a defeated sigh, he opened his mouth a fraction.  Avril practically shoved the spoon in, the mush a bland, tasteless paste.  She forced another spoonful in, then another, her smile widening with each successful feed.

"See, Roy," she cooed, wiping a non-existent smear from his cheek with the bib, "that wasn't so hard, was it?  Such a good boy!"

As she snapped a picture of him, his face smeared with food, Roy felt a surge of shame and anger
Instead, he locked eyes with her, his voice firm despite the tremor running through him. "You can force me to wear these," he said, gesturing at the pajamas, "but you can't force me to break.  I won't be your puppet."

As he sat there, the smell of food wafting from the kitchen, Roy knew this was fa

[Paddybaby]

Loving this story. And cant wait until he accepts his new position in the home.

[naughty baby hubby]

Roy's stomach clenched as Saturday bled into a seemingly endless afternoon. The thought of work on Monday, a return to normalcy, was the only thing keeping him going. The promise of a reprieve, even a temporary one, fueled a flicker of hope within him.

Around 6:30, Avril's chillingly cheerful voice shattered the silence. "Bath time for baby Roy!" she declared, a saccharine sweetness coating her words.  Dread coiled in Roy's gut. He knew the routine – the indignity of being stripped naked, the childish bath toys, the constant reminder of his forced regression.

He watched with apprehension as Avril ran the bath, the sound of rushing water filling the room.  Then, with a sickeningly sweet smile, she turned towards him.

"Since you've been such a good boy today, Roy," she cooed, her voice dripping with forced cheer, "you get a special reward before your bath."

Roy's heart hammered against his ribs.  He knew this "reward" wouldn't be anything good.  In Avril's twisted world, rewards often came with a heavy price.

"What is it?" he asked, his voice wary.

"Well," Avril drawled, her eyes glinting with something cruel, "since you've been so good at wearing your big boy clothes, maybe you're ready for something a little… less restrictive."

A cold dread washed over Roy.  He knew exactly what she was implying.  His breath hitched in his throat, a silent plea forming in his eyes.  But Avril ignored it, a predatory smile playing on her lips.

"Off with the clothes, then, Roy," she chirped, her voice laced with forced sweetness.  "Let's get you ready for your bath… and your reward."

[naughty baby hubby]

Roy's blood ran cold. The indignity of being forced naked on the bathroom floor was already excruciating, but the addition of gloves and lubricant jar sent a fresh wave of terror coursing through him.  This was a new level of violation, a boundary that Avril hadn't dared to cross before.  His mind raced, searching for a way out, a defense against this new humiliation.

"No!" he roared, his voice raw with a mixture of fear and defiance.  He scrambled back on his hands and knees, putting as much distance between himself and Avril as possible.  "I won't let you do that!  You can't!"

Avril's smile faltered for a second, surprise flickering in her eyes.  She hadn't expected such a fierce reaction.  "But Roy," she cooed, her voice laced with fake sweetness, "this is just part of your hygiene routine.  Like a baby needs diaper cream, you need this to stay comfortable."

"This isn't diaper cream!" he retorted, his voice shaking with a primal fear.  "This is wrong!  And I won't be a part of it!"

The air crackled with tension.  For a moment, they stood frozen in a bizarre tableau, a silent battle of wills unfolding.  A flicker of something akin to fear crossed Avril's face for the first time.  Was he bluffing?  Would he dare defy her directly, on something this personal?

The moment stretched on, filled with a suffocating silence.  Finally, with a defeated sigh, Avril peeled off the gloves, the rubber snapping with a satisfying pop.  The jar of vasoline landed on the counter with a dull thud.There did Roy enjoy that her finger pushing against his enlarged prostate.She noticed Roy had been pushing back on to her fat finger. She smiled to herself when she saw Roys small linp willy dribbling semen o to the bathroom tiles. Oh my Roy did enjoy that!!! She gave his bottom a playfull slap You see Roy when your a good boy you get rewarded

[naughty baby hubby]

The air crackled with a tension so thick it felt suffocating. Roy remained on his hands and knees, his body a statue carved from shame.  A strangled sob escaped his throat, a pathetic sound that echoed in the sterile bathroom.

Across from him, Avril's face contorted in disgust.  She ripped off the gloves, the rubber snapping with a satisfying pop that seemed to hang heavy in the air.

"What is this?" she shrieked, her voice laced with a fury that sent shivers down Roy's spine.  "You disgusting little...you pooped on my finger"  She trailed off, her face contorted in a mask of revulsion.

Shame burned through Roy, a white-hot fire that consumed him.  He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately trying to disappear.  This wasn't just humiliation anymore; it was a complete and utter rejection of his being.

"You don't deserve any rewards after this, Roy!" Avril roared, her voice shaking with fury.  "You're a filthy, disgusting little boy who needs to be punished!"

A spark of defiance flickered in the ashes of Roy's despair.  He wouldn't let her break him completely.  He forced his eyes open, meeting her gaze with a newfound resolve.

"It was an accident," he rasped, his voice barely a whisper.  "I… I didn't mean to."

Avril's eyes narrowed, her face a mask of cold fury.  "Accidents happen to babies, Roy," she snarled.  "But big boys know how to take care of themselves… or they face the consequences."

She grabbed his arm, her grip like a vice.  "We're going to have a little chat about responsibility, young man," she hissed, her voice dripping with venom.  "And this time, you're going to learn your lesson."

As she dragged him out of the bathroom, a cold dread gripped Roy.  The humiliation was one thing, but the look in Avril's eyes promised something far worse.  He had a sickening feeling that this "lesson" would push him to the very edge, a test of his will to resist, his sanity.