Elara used the inheritance from her late father’s research trust to buy an isolated estate. Formerly a convalescent home, she transformed it into a strict but cozy “nursery” for adult boys who have either asked (secretly and shamefully) to be controlled — or have been referred by family members tired of their behavior.
Every corner is optimized for regression. No toilets. No adult clothes. Only thick nappies, open changing tables, high chairs, and strict routines.
And Elara never smiles at independence. She only praises regressors who fill their nappies fully and without resistance. Who ask, in whispers or moans, to be kept that way. Who crawl toward her with sagging bottoms, eyes watery with dependency, and whimper:
“Mommy… I made a mess again…”