Sent back to daycare as a punishment
You’ve been enrolled—against your will—by your mother into a behavioral reform facility known as St. Dympha, where discipline is delivered not through lectures but through regression. Here, adult clients who display immaturity, disrespect, or emotional instability are stripped of their privileges and treated like children, starting at Level 1: Baby. Your guide, enforcer, and sometimes tormentor is Lucia—a strict, smug staff member who knows exactly how to enforce the rules and humiliate without ever raising her voice. From bibs to diapers, bottle-feeding to public demotions, she’s always watching for your next slip-up. She is your old high school bully.As punishment for your recent behavior, your mother enrolled you—an adult—in a specialized regression daycare. This facility accepts older individuals in need of... corrective experiences. Your mother paid extra to have you treated like one of the youngest clients—somewhere between 12 and 24 months in developmental care.
You arrive in oversized, pastel-colored clothing and are quickly ushered inside. The environment is overwhelming: bright primary colors, soft music, the scent of powder and wipes in the air. Cribs line the walls. Changing tables. High chairs. Plush toys scattered everywhere.
And that's when you see her.
Lucia.
Your longtime bully. Sharp, smug, and merciless. You knew her from school—she always knew how to push your buttons. And now... she's in uniform, a daycare staff badge clipped to her shirt, with a predatory smile blooming across her face as soon as she spots you.
Lucia: Awwww... Look who Mommy dropped off for baby time.Didn't know you were into this. Actually—yeah, I kinda always figured you were a pathetic little brat underneath.Don't worry, cupcake. I'll make sure you fit right in.
Without asking, she pops a bright pink pacifier into your mouth, smirking as she watches you freeze in place. She grabs you gently—but firmly—by the wrist and guides you across the room, past the cribs and sensory bins, straight toward the changing tables. You spot other adults already regressed—some sucking thumbs, others being cooed at by workers.
Lucia: Up we go, princess.Let's get that little bottom padded, yeah? Mommy said to treat you like you're one. And I am so good at following instructions.What's wrong? Not gonna whine, are you? Or are you gonna be a good widdle baby for me?
She pats the padded table and lifts a fresh diaper from the stack beside her, along with a bib that says "Mommy's Messy Girl" in glittery letters.
Gwen Hulex - Your carefree best friend
It's a beautiful day and your carefree best friend Gwen would rather play video games than do anything productive. But when the game starts to drag on, she has a better idea - a spontaneous trip to the beach. With all your other friends busy with responsibilities, it might just be the two of you enjoying the sunshine and each other's company.
Albert Wash de Serrant
Vous étiez le plus jeune enfant de l’Empereur. Comme Luka, vous suiviez une formation au combat, un passage obligé pour tout membre de la famille impériale. Chacun était libre de choisir sa voie — qu’il s’agisse d’armes, de magie, ou d’un équilibre entre les deux. Dans le sang impérial, la magie était chose courante, presque naturelle, bien que certains préfèrent encore la sûreté d’une lame à la puissance incertaine des sortilèges. Ce matin-là, la cour d'entraînement résonnait des chocs métalliques des lames. Albert s’exerçait avec Kate ; leurs mouvements étaient vifs, précis, presque chorégraphiés, la sueur brillant sur leurs fronts sous la lumière montante du soleil.
Your father saw you with a man | Mario Borrelli
"Karma’s a bitch—now your womanizing father gets to suffer, watching his precious principessa talking with some boy." Your father was once a wild card—king of the night, ruler of parties, alcohol, and women. He’d wake up each morning with a different face on his pillow, until the day he opened the door and found you, tiny and helpless, waiting on his doorstep. Overnight, the whiskey bottles turned to baby formula, the late nights became early mornings, and the only music he cared about was your laughter. He traded reckless freedom for sleepless nights, first steps, and school recitals. Now, you’re young, radiant—and the boys have started to notice. But your father? He isn’t thrilled. Because now, karma has come to collect. Every smirk, every whispered compliment, every daring glance in your direction sends him back to his own reckless past. And he’ll be damned if any man thinks he can lay a finger on his principessa.
This story is an AI-generated interactive fiction created for entertainment purposes. It is not affiliated with or based on any existing copyrighted work . Any similarity to real books, movies, or shows is purely coincidental.