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Chapter 22: The Night Before I returned downstairs to find that Hannah had resumed watching the movie without me. Like before, she was sitting on the floor. Emma remained absorbed in her smartphone on the couch. "You were in the bathroom for a really long time," Hannah said as I took a seat behind her on the couch. Emma groaned at her cousin's lack of social etiquette, though she still didn't look up from her phone. I didn't respond at all to Hannah's comment. Anything she might think I had been doing in the bathroom was better than what I had actually been doing. I hoped that I had managed to put everything back into the suitcase exactly like I had found it, and that the pull-up I had tried out wouldn't show any signs of having been worn. I wasn't able to pay attention to the TV. It didn't matter that this was my favorite of the Harry Potter movies. I simply couldn't sit still and focus on it. The diapers I'd discovered in Hannah's suitcase both worried and intrigued me. Why was it that she would need to wear those to bed rather than the pull-ups? There was only one explanation that made sense. The pull-ups must not work well enough for her at night. There was no question from when I was holding the diaper that it had significantly more absorbent padding, but it seemed to follow that it would be more effective at absorbing urine. But I struggled to understand why that was the case. The pull-ups seemed to work perfectly fine for Hannah during the day. Or did they? When Emma had mentioned that her cousin had peed all over the couch the other day, I had simply assumed that she must have not had a pull-up on at the time. But what if that wasn't the case? What if she had been wearing the pull-up, and it hadn't been able to completely absorb the accident? Maybe those pull-ups didn't work one hundred percent of that time? What would that mean for my own fake bedwetting once my parents got the pull-ups for me? I, of course, would be wetting them, but what would happen if they leaked all over the bed? I couldn't see my parents wanting to continue getting pull-ups for me if that were to happen. They wouldn't see them as having any value if there were still wet sheets to deal with, anyway. Would I end up needing to wear diapers as well if I were to continue faking the bedwetting? And did I want to wear diapers rather than pull-ups? That was a question I didn't know the answer to at the moment. I hadn't ever remotely considered the possibility of wearing a diaper rather than a pull-up outside of the makeshift diaper I had attempted to make for myself once a couple of years back to disastrous results. Would a diaper feel as good as wearing a pull-up? Would it feel better than wearing a pull-up? That wasn't a question I could answer without having tried one on, but there hadn't been an opportunity to do so. From the windows looking out over the backyard, I could see that the rain hadn't let up a single bit. I checked my phone. The forecast said the downpour wasn't supposed to stop until sometime overnight. The movie finally came to an end. Hannah wanted to move on to the next one immediately, but not before taking another toilet break, as her watch had just gone off a couple of minutes earlier. "I need to put my foot down," Emma said, though she remained seated on the couch with her legs curled up to the side. "I'm not watching another one of these movies this weekend." Hannah was gone a lot longer than before. It was hard to tell since it was raining, but I thought I could hear the sound of someone going upstairs and walking around. When she finally returned, she didn't take kindly to Emma's decision to move on to any activity other than watching the next Harry Potter movie. Hannah stomped her feet and ran off when Emma refused to hand over the TV remote to her. Hannah returned a few minutes later with her mom, who tried to helpfully suggest that perhaps we could make some TikTok videos with Hannah instead. That seemed to test Emma's limit on wanting to do anything but watch another Harry Potter movie, but she agreed. There was still another hour or so before Mom was going to come and pick me up. We managed to get a couple of someone choreographic dance videos made that Emma promised Hannah that she would post to her account, though when Hannah went off to use the toilet again, Emma whispered to me that she was going to delete it all once Hannah was gone, saying that she didn't want to ruin the vibe on her account. The doorbell rang a few minutes later. It had to be Mom coming to pick me up. Hannah stayed behind in the living room as Emma and I went to the front door. Mom was chatting casually with Emma and Hannah's parents in the entryway when we arrived. "Are you excited about summer break?" Mom asked Emma. "I will be when Angie is back from her road trip," Emma said. "I'm looking forward to the sleepover on Maddy's birthday." Mom nodded in response to Emma's statement and shifted her gaze over to me. And just like that, I was caught. Mom wasn't supposed to have known that I'd already invited Angie and Emma to have a sleepover on my birthday next weekend. "Where's Hannah?" Emma's aunt asked. "I don't know," Emma said. "Maybe in the other room." "Can you go grab her? I'm sure she'd want to say goodbye since we're leaving early tomorrow morning." Emma trudged back off toward the living room. I caught her rolling her eyes once she was at an angle where her parents couldn't see it. A little while later, there was a loud patter of feet running along the wood floor, and Hannah sprinted around the corner. I couldn't help but once again find my eyes drifting down to her waist. As she came to a stop, her shirt lifted up briefly, giving one final half-second glimpse of the pull-up beneath her shorts. "Bye!" Hannah said with a wave at me. And just like that, she was done, having turned back around to sprint off toward the living room. We continued to make small talk about plans for the summer for a few minutes, and then it was time to head home. I closed the door behind me after getting into the passenger seat, bracing myself for an awkward conversation. Mom turned on the ignition without saying a word and watched the rear-view camera as she carefully backed out of the driveway. Once we were out on the road, the questions began. "Why does Emma think there's going to be a sleepover on your birthday?" she asked. She had me there. It was stupid bad luck that Emma had thought to say anything about that to Mom. Mom had shot down the idea of an all-nighter, and she had made it clear that she wasn't going to OK the idea of a sleepover unless the anti-bedwetting pills had worked. I really didn't want to answer Mom's question, even though it wasn't as though she likely knew the answer already. "I told Angie and Emma that a sleepover was the plan for my birthday." "Madelyn, you know that I had said that wasn't an option unless we managed to figure out what was happening with the bedwetting." I nearly did it. Even though I had planned to bring up the topic of pull-ups tomorrow, I nearly went forward with the speech I had rehearsed about how it might be good to try them. But I instead fell back on a more vague excuse. "I just figured that maybe the doctor would have something that would stop the bedwetting so I could still have the sleepover. I didn't want to tell them that I couldn't do it." "That doesn't leave a lot of time," Mom said as we turned onto the road that led back to our house. "I want to make sure any solution actually works before letting you do a sleepover. Maybe it would be best if we just postponed it. Your friends can stay until it is time to go to bed. It's not as though you'd really miss anything while being asleep." That was the last thing I wanted, especially after having already told my friends that a sleepover was going to happen. "Please don't tell them that it is canceled yet. I don't want them to think anything is wrong." Mom was silent for a bit as she pulled into the driveway and waited for the garage door to open. "That's fine for now," Mom said at last. "But if we don't find a way to deal with the bedwetting before then, it isn't going to work to have the sleepover." <><><> Another night. Another set of pills to take before bed. At least this was going to be the last time. Despite my pleas to get out of taking the pills tonight, Mom insisted that I should give it one more try before going to the doctor's appointment in the morning. "I don't want you staying up too late tonight," Mom said. "The appointment is first thing in the morning, so you need to make sure you set your alarm for eight." Great. Pills. No more water for tonight. No chance of peeing the bed this evening. And I had to get up early in the morning. I held out my hand, and she dropped the two pills onto my open palm. I grabbed a glass with a small amount of water in it from her as well. Mom watched as I popped both of the pills into my mouth. I resigned myself to the possibility of dealing with an actual headache tomorrow morning as I began to raise the glass of water to my lips. Some loud yelling in the distance – which sounded like my younger brother, Jackson – suddenly grabbed Mom's attention, as she turned around to look in the other direction. Mom's back was turned as she headed down the hallway in the direction of the tantrum that Jackson seemed to be throwing. That wasn't common behavior for him, but when it happened, it usually took both of my parents to rein my six-year-old brother in. This was my chance. I pulled the two tiny pills out of my mouth and placed them in my pocket before quickly chugging down the small glass of water. With my plans for the evening suddenly looking much more positive, I didn't throw a fuss at going to bed earlier than I normally would have on an evening during summer break. I made sure to use the toilet while my parents were helping my brother get ready for bed, making sure they would know that any bedwetting would be happening in spite of all the precautions that were being taken. I flushed the two pills down the toilet, watching carefully to make sure that they didn't resurface. The best part about having avoided taking the pills tonight was that I wasn't going to have to avoid drinking anything afterward. My mouth had been so parched the past several nights when I had gone to bed without sneaking a drink from the sports bottle I had tucked away in my bedroom. Alone in my bedroom, I raised the bottle to my lips. I couldn't believe that I was somehow actually excited about the idea of drinking lukewarm tap water. The likelihood of being able to wet myself in bed tonight allowed me to manage to set aside my disgust at the bitter taste of the water. The problem of going to bed this early was that I still had plenty of time to kill before midnight. I tapped open the web browser on my phone, trying to recall the name of the website Hannah had mentioned reading those Harry Potter fanfiction stories on. I couldn't recall the exact name, but a quick Google search of the acronym she had mentioned brought up a link to the website. I tapped on the link, and then I groaned as a new pop-up appeared on my phone, one that was unwelcome but familiar, a message that the website was blocked due to the parental restrictions on my phone. Well, that was just great. Defeated, I set my phone down on the bed. It wouldn't be the first time that an otherwise appropriate website had been mistakenly blocked by the software. If it was something Hannah had access to, I couldn't imagine that it was actually anything that bad or inappropriate. I would need to ask Dad about the website tomorrow, and he would be able to update the permissions on the parental controls like he had done for me before, though perhaps I should consider coming up with a reason for wanting to access the website other than wanting to read Harry Potter stories. A sense of melancholy struck me as midnight approached. This might be the last time of wetting myself like this. Going forward, I would be wearing a pull-up to bed every night for the foreseeable future. I had first wet the bed nine nights ago. And tomorrow I would be going to see a doctor. I was amazed at how quickly everything had progressed. I'd tried to put off thinking about what the doctor's appointment might mean for me in the morning. What tests would they end up running? What theories would they have for why the bedwetting might be happening? Was there anything I had done that might cause them to suspect that I was actually wetting the bed on purpose? One thing was clear. Regardless of what happened at that appointment, I was going to need to find a way to broach the topic of pull-ups with Mom tomorrow. With any luck, tomorrow night, I'd be going to bed while wearing a pull-up identical to the one of Hannah's that I had tried out earlier today. Having managed to avoid taking the anti-bedwetting pills, I didn't have to struggle at all to manage to wet the bed, and I took in the sensation of the warmth spreading beneath my waist. Even though everything had gone right so far, even though I was still completely on track for my plan to succeed, another thought began to fill me with a new worry as I lay on top of my thoroughly soaked bedding. What if the pull-ups didn't work for me? --- Links to all my stories can be found at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com/

Looks like a pacifier addict. https://pacifieraddict.com/

Sometime a little over a week ago, I think it was a Saturday, the odometer on my permanently nappy-clad life clocked over 5 years. Any chronologists reading may already have realised that my blog on this is already well more than 5 years old and so my life in nappies must also be more than 5 years. This is true. I went into nappies full time in late 2018 but this only lasted a little more than 2 months before I went back into grown up pants in order to spend a few weeks working integrated with a short holiday in the USA. It proved to be my last ever annual month-long pilgrimage there for work as the world, and my world in particular was going to implode in 2020 but I didn’t know that then. Furthermore, if I’d known then what I know now about how to wear nappies as a grown up, I wouldn’t have come out of them for that trip. It was the first week of April 2019 that I put on a BetterDry in the Qantas Club lounge bathrooms at Los Angeles airport to stay in them ever since and that was a little over 5 years ago. Five years would have seemed like an impossibly long time back then but here we are. I think I was downstairs painting a garage at the time our planet completed its fifth orbit of our star whilst I peed in my pants. I forgot to celebrate, or even to remember. I think that’s emblematic for how things look like to me right now. There isn’t much “nappy news” to see on a daily basis and frankly, it’s sometimes tough to think about what there might be left to write about them. Frankly, I’ve found it to be a curiously flat milestone although this may well just be my general mood. There’s a bit going on right now in the “rest of life” department. So many other things have changed in my life over this 5 years that it’s hard to work out what, if any, changes are nappy-related. I still think I’m happier in my nappy. It’s hard to be sure because I’ve largely forgotten what it’s like NOT to be in them. For sure the thought of taking them of does induce some low-level anxiety but who’s to say that this isn’t a natural anxiety in the face how accustomed I’ve become, both physiologically and mentally, to semi-automatically peeing myself. There’s also some legitimate anxiety about keeping the marital bed dry. Speaking of marital, I’m still married. It’s not been without collateral cost and I think at 5 years, I need to accept that I have all the tolerance and support that I’m ever going to get (ie: not much). She still hates my nappies which means she hates an aspect of me and that eats away at me like battery acid. I thought I’d be more resilient to that but rust never sleeps. Back on day zero I’d just assumed that if I ever lasted as impossibly long as 5 years in nappies, I’d be totally incontinent and the burden of choice would have been alleviated from me. I would no longer have to CHOOSE nappies, I would simply NEED them. That’s proved to be not quite true. What I have is nappy dependence. It means that I need nappies for simple practicality. I need to pee far too frequently and with far too much urgency to stray too far from a toilet. This is now to the point where it’s too burdensome to remain dry whilst conducting something resembling a normal day. My nappies let me operate like a normal person, or even on some levels a bit better. It’s ME who can sit through the whole “Dune” movie but at the end of the day, I’m in nappies because I have made a weird choice. I could retrain. I have still not escaped the responsibilities of my strange choices. Having said that, there’s been, quite recently, one or two glimmers of something that looks like incredibly mild incontinence. There have been damp sneezes. There’s the bedwetting thing but some part of me knows that paradoxically, this is some kind of deliberate behaviour, albeit “deliberate” at a subconscious level where logic and strategy don’t get much airtime. The occasional decision to pee without waking up is coming from my brain, not my bladder though. There’s probably some volition-worthy choice points I could make that would avoid my occasional bouts of night swimming. I’m just not sure what they are. So where to next? Five years isn’t really that long, only half as long as Ivan Denisovich’s Gulag sentence in Solzhenitsyn’s novel and generally speaking, in my Gulag the catering is better. Year 6 I suppose. Perhaps something interesting will happen then. “Interesting’ of course, may well be more in the context of the apocryphal Chinese curse than “engaging” but we’ll see.

Just dropped in to state the obvious, for anyone who's reading this: I don't know how I would get through my day without wearing a diaper. My job has become so busy lately, I have no time to get and do anything, let alone go to the bathroom. My wife has been bringing me my lunch at my desk when she's home. It's nice that I can simply forget about the plumbing department until I stand up to stretch, and realize that my diaper has bulked up a bit. It's also been a crutch for me psychologically - when I have to focus on a task that's not at the top of my list of things to do, I think to myself, "At least I can wear a diaper while I do this..." I think she had gotten used to seeing me up here in my office in a diaper and a golf shirt, dressed for Zoom & Teams meetings where the horizon line is conveniently mid-chest, although with the cooler weather, I have been tending to wear trousers. But it's getting nice out again and we are drifting towards the "pants optional" months, so I shall once again be testing her tolerance. I'm still kind of self-conscious about pacifiers during the day, or really anytime outside of when I'm actually in bed, under the covers. I've accepted that when I'm sleeping and she's watching something on her tablet or phone, that she can see I have a pacifier going, although putting it in is the second last thing I do, followed only by turning out my bedside lamp. As I've explained before, it's at least partially for her benefit - she used to elbow me away some nights because I was clicking my teeth There was a stretch a while ago - a couple of years, actually - where I was working on a big, detailed project, and I started using one while I was concentrating, almost like chewing gum, but once I got back to doing frequent online meetings, I stopped using one during the day. Forgetting your paci is clipped to your shirt could be a career-ending move. I may implement it again - I did find it relaxing, although I don't know if I could "get over myself" enough to actually use it in front of anyone, when I'm not sleeping. I have wondered if a pacifier could be a weight loss crutch, again, like chewing gum - if I used one while watching TV, would I be less compelled to snack? But then I feel like I'd look absurd. But then again, I'm also generally sitting there in a big diaper, so... The ultimate invention would be a pacifier into which you could pour Scotch. Sort of the baby bottle equivalent of a shot glass, with a really tiny orifice... I shall begin assembling the blueprints for the patent office.

If adult baby prepacked starter kits were available (they could contain anything up to, eg a crib) in three sizes.. 5 items, 10 items and 20 items... What would your ideal starter kit contain?

Hi diaper babies! I hope you don't mind me sharing a section from my newest book release! I thought you might enjoy it, and if so, the rest of the novella is now available to buy via the links at the bottom if you're interested! Thank you! Falling Diapered Into Her Arms: My Story of Regression, Humiliation, and Messy Diaper Punishment (An ABDL Novella) PREVIEW EXCERPT: It was on the way to the grocery store that I noticed the first signs I might be having an upset tummy. Sitting in the back of my Mommy’s van, I felt gurgling, twisting and rumbling as we drove, causing me to wince with every bump. It seemed more and more like something in my breakfast wasn’t agreeing with me. I took deep breaths and tried to put the growing discomfort out of my mind, hoping my tummy would settle down on its own, shortly. But in the back of my mind, I had a growing fear that the rumblies I was wrestling with might mean I would need to take a dump sooner rather than later—far earlier than my usual after-dinner BM schedule. The issue was there was no way I was going to be able to go number two while we were out of the house, and I knew we wouldn’t be back home from running my Mommy’s errands for at least several more hours at this point. That’s because there was no way I could bear using a public toilet to poop. This week, especially. In the first place, I’d always been terrified of pooping in a public toilet outside my house, even before I met my Mommy. It was one of my greatest fears. But then, add on to that my Mommy still currently required that she supervise me while I was using the toilet, even in a public bathroom. It was already nearly impossible trying to brave the humiliation of pooping in front of my Mommy while she watched me at home. The idea of having to poop in a public bathroom while she stood in the stall with me, narrating it for anyone else in the restroom to hear, was unimaginable. But finally, there was the fact I was still only three days into my so-called ‘potty-probation’. And that meant I was still wearing a diaper 24/7, including right now. I was forbidden from using my daytime diapers, of course. (Pottying in my diapers was the last thing on earth I wanted to do, anyway.) But the terms of my potty-probation were that every morning, my Mommy changed me out of my soggy bedwetting diaper, and into a fresh daytime diaper—one I was not to use. Then, similar to my previous potty-training rules, whenever I needed to use the potty, I needed to ask my Mommy to take me, so she could bring me into the bathroom and carefully un-tape my diaper. Before she even allowed me to sit on the potty for my supervised toileting, she carefully inspected the bright white interior diaper padding for any signs of, “visible continence failure.” Or, as she translated for me to understand, “Any oopsie peepees or whoopsie poopies in your diadees!” Only when she deemed that my diaper was still, “appropriately unsoiled”—that is, “no yucky doodie or peepee stains”—did she let me sit on the potty to do my business. Then, when I was finished using the toilet, I would then be made to lay on a vinyl baby’s diaper changing pad on the bathroom floor so she could properly diaper me back up, often with a fresh application of baby powder or extra tapes, if necessary. With all the other difficulties involved with using a public toilet to go number two at this point, I just couldn’t imagine also being forced to do it all with an extremely humiliating, noisy, noticeably crinkly diaper that needed to be taken off by my Mommy… let alone put back on while I laid on the floor for all to see! So, even though by time we arrived at the grocery store, my tummy rumbles had already begun to transform into painful urges and cramps in my bowels like I feared… I was still more determined than ever to just hold it till we got back home. After all, it wasn’t like I actually needed the stupid diaper I was being forced to wear under my pants. I wasn’t actually a stupid baby. I’d be able to just hold it like a big boy until we got home, no problem. … right? *** “Do you need to go potty before we start shopping, hon?” my Mommy loudly asked me as we walked through the front doors of the grocery store. “Does my little guy need to potty?” I blushed and stared down in embarrassment as several nearby patrons glanced in our direction, all of them cringing with pity and / or discomfort at seeing someone my age still needing to be talked to in such an infantile way. “Well? Answer Mommy when she asks you a question,” my Mommy repeated even louder. “Do you need Mommy to take you to the potty before we start shopping, or not? Do you need to go weewee? Because I don’t want to take a potty break once we get started, hon.” I bit my lip, suddenly shyly hesitating. The thing was, the second she asked if I had to pee, I realized, in fact… I did. It was humiliating how well she seemed to know when and how often I needed to go to the potty lately. Seemingly even better than I did. Just like a Mommy potty-training her little boy… But the problem was, my tummy was now in such distress, and I was so focused on holding back my urgent need to go number two, I suddenly felt terrified that if I tried to pee… I might lose control of my bowels. And if she decided to stand me at a urinal to pee (which she often did if we were out and about and she was in a hurry), I might shit my pants. It was too risky. I just needed to wait until my stomach settled a little bit, first, I told myself. I would pee when my tummy cramps finally weren’t so bad. “No, I don’t have to go potty,” I answered, my cheeks turning a bit red, perhaps betraying my fib. “Are you suuuuuure?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. I gave a shy nod. It occurred to me how silly it was that I was once again lying to my Mommy about not needing to potty. But what else was I to do? “Hmmm, I don’t know,” my Mommy said, as if reading my mind. She grabbed me by the wrist. “I think we learned last time that I’d better take you anyway—“ “Excuse me, ma’am?” A stranger suddenly interrupted my Mommy, stopping her in her tracks. “Would you like to sign up for our store’s free savings program? You can save up to 30% off on every visit with just your email address.” To my surprise, my Mommy stopped and suddenly seemed to get swept up in some sort of boring adult conversation with what looked like someone who worked for the store. I slowly drifted behind her while she held my wrist, taking the opportunity to catch my breath and ease the cramping in my bowels. I really, really didn’t want to be taken to the potty at the moment. Especially now that I could tell from the way my guts were rumbling, it was going to be a sloppy, loud, potentially even painful bowel evacuation I was in for, which made me all the more desperate to avoid doing it in a public bathroom. I just needed to focus on holding everything for now… Suddenly, I realized my Mommy was finished with the conversation. But funny enough, by time she was finished, she seemingly had forgotten she was about to drag me to the bathroom to pee against my will. Instead, it seemed she got distracted by a sale at the end of the aisle, and was now quickly pulling me along as she grabbed a cart and started her grocery shopping. I was incredibly relieved. I had no idea what would have happened if she had dragged me to the bathroom. Whether I would have horrifically messed myself while trying to maintain my composure enough to ‘just’ urinate at the urinal… or been forced to confess my real most pressing potty need, where I would then have been dragged to a filthy public stall and forced to suffer the most humiliating and intense BM of my life… But as immensely relieved as I was in the moment… unfortunately, that sense of relief didn’t last long. In fact, it didn’t take long for me to realize that, while I obediently shuffled behind my Mommy as she traversed up and down the endless supermarket aisles, the pressure and cramps in my bowels weren’t getting any better, like I had hoped. In fact, they were only getting much, much worse… *** I clutched my tummy and wheezed with pain as I felt another seismic cramp reverberate through my bowels. I had been patiently, obediently following my Mommy around the crowded supermarket for quite a while now, aisle after aisle, department after department. She seemed to be doing her shopping even slower than usual, adding to my immense distress. But I knew by now raising any fuss about how long it was taking Mommy to do her errands was a surefire way to suddenly make my situation much worse, with a swift and severe punishment. At first, I had been carried by the hope that my Mommy would be done shopping soon, which meant we might go home soon, which meant I would finally get to relieve my agonizing bowels on our toilet at home soon... But then, it began to feel like not only was my Mommy slowing down… but so was time itself. Every step I took with the thick, humiliating, crinkly padding between my legs felt like days of agony as I tried to suppress the cramps in my tummy. And as my Mommy stopped in the cereal aisle to carry on a long and protracted conversation with a friend from the neighborhood she had recognized, while I gritted my teeth and suppressed the worst groans my tummy had ever made… I finally realized I had made a huge mistake. As mortified and dead-set against I was at first about using the public toilet to relieve my agonizing bowels, I was now at a breaking point. I realized I truly couldn’t hold on much longer. And with a chill of terror, the true stakes finally dawned on me of what I was risking if I didn’t summon the strength to subject myself to the humiliation of using the store bathroom with my Mommy… I realized I was now suddenly risking potentially having an accident in my diaper… while on potty-probation. And if that happened… it meant I might never get to use any toilet at all ever again. Sweating bullets and wheezing with intestinal distress, I finally faced the fact that I was out of options. I realized my Mommy wasn’t leaving this store anytime soon. My only choice now was to try to get her attention, before I risked the unthinkable happening… “Ummm… Mommy?” I suddenly squeaked, trying to get her attention while she carried on her conversation with the neighbor she happened to run into. While I had been obediently standing right next to my Mommy the whole time they talked, I hadn’t paid attention to a word of their conversation, and I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to. I was far too distracted by the seismic gurgling and gasp-inducing cramps that had now fully seised my bowels. “Mommy? Mommy?” I whined again, desperate to get her attention without earning myself a scolding, or worse, for rudely interrupting. Finally, my Mommy turned around. “What is it, hon?” she asked, clearly irritated. “I… uh… umm… well… you see… I just… ummm….” I murmured, still struggling to say it, after resisting it for so long. But now, I was practically doubled over in pain. My face was red and covered with sweat. My bowels were making noises I’d never heard anyone’s stomach make before. I suddenly needed to poop worse than I’d ever needed to poop in my life, and my primal desperation for physical relief finally took over… “I gotta go potty, Mommy!” I finally managed to belt out, clutching my tummy and grimacing in pain. My Mommy gave a brief expression of surprise, then let out a long sigh of disappointment. Then she turned back to her friend. “Alright, I’d better get back to shopping with the little rugrat, here. It was great catching up! Let’s stay in touch about playdates and babysitting, like you said! I’m sure they’d both love that,” my Mommy said to her friend. If I wasn’t in such agony, I might have paid more attention to what she mentioned about playdates and babysitting, but as it stood, I only had one concern. Getting. To. The. Potty. My Mommy finally hugged her friend goodbye, then slowly turned around and started pushing the cart down the aisle again while I shuffled alongside her. I felt a sudden and tremendous wave of relief. It looked like she was taking me to the bathroom! I was so happy I could have cried. Or at least, that’s how it seemed at first… Until a moment later, my Mommy stopped at a shelf and started looking through cans of soup again, to my utter bafflement. “Umm, Mommy!” I squeaked. “I said I really need you to take me to the potty!” “Oh, I know, sweetie,” she replied calmly. “Don’t worry, I’m almost done with my shopping, then we’ll go right there.” I was flummoxed. “But… but… Mommyyy… I really have to go….” I softly whimpered. But she seemed to ignore me as she continued calmly looking through items on the shelf. “Mommyyyy… Mommyyyy… Mommy…” I continued whining, clutching my stomach in pain as I followed her. But she still didn’t respond. Finally, I cried out, “Mommy, I said I really have to go potty, right now!” “Well, too bad!” my Mommy suddenly shouted back, spinning on her heels to stare me down. “You should have thought of that the first time I offered to take you, shouldn’t you have? You know, right when we entered the store?” I instantly wilted, feeling scared. She only scolded me in that tone of voice when I was on the verge of being in big, big trouble. “But… but… I really have to go, really bad…” I whimpered softly. “Can’t you please just take me now?” “No,” my Mommy said sternly. “Absolutely not. When I offered to take you to the potty before, I made it very clear to you it was because I didn’t want to take any potty breaks while I was in the middle of shopping. I even tried to insist you go potty, even if you didn’t feel like it, so this wouldn’t happen. And guess what? You refused. Why did you refuse? Probably because you thought you were too much of a big boy to go potty when your Mommy said you should. “Well, guess what, little buddy? If you want to choose to try to act like a big boy, that’s fine. But that also means actually being treated like a big boy. And in this case, that means you quit whining and you hold it like a big boy until I’m done shopping and can take you to the potty again. Is that clear?” my Mommy scolded. “I… I…” I stammered, the cramps in my tummy too painful for me to think straight. “I said… IS. THAT. CLEAR?” my Mommy repeated, causing the hair to go up on the back of my neck in fear. “Yes, Mommy,” I murmured. “Good,” my Mommy said, finally letting out a small sigh and returning to her task of comparing soup cans. “Now, I’ll only be a little bit longer. And like I said before, I’ll take you to the potty right away when I’m finished.” I nodded and stared at the floor. My face burned red with embarrassment, shame, pain, and frustration as I resumed silently and obediently standing behind my Mommy, like she ordered, my bowels cramping and my tummy grumbling in non-stop, humiliating pain. The worst part of all was knowing, deep down, she was right… This whole situation really was my fault. *** As I stood beside my Mommy while she leisurely shopped, gritting my teeth and silently wrestling a new wave of excruciating cramps in my stomach and bowels, my attention happened to turn back to what I was wearing beneath my pants… The diaper. The stupid, humiliating, crinkly diaper. It suddenly felt more embarrassing and stifling than ever between my legs and around my waist. It was sweaty, and tight, and puffy, and a reminder I just couldn’t ignore of just what a stupid baby I was. And I really was a pathetic, stupid baby, wasn’t I? My Mommy was right. I should have just gone to the potty when she first offered when we first walked in. Why didn’t I? What reason was there, besides my own pathetic, babyish stubbornness and stupidity… As I twisted my feet and screwed my face in pain from another urgent cramp, and stared at my Mommy’s back while she continued calmly perusing the shelves, I couldn’t help but wonder… What if I just made a run for it? What If I just took off running for the bathroom, right now. And went to the bathroom all by myself, without permission, and just sat on the toilet before it was too late… Every fiber of my physical biology was begging me to do it. To just go get to the potty so I could finally relieve the excruciating pressure and agony in my guts… But my feet wouldn’t dare budge. And I really wasn’t even certain why. Perhaps it was because the idea of so flagrantly disobeying even just one of my Mommy’s direct rules at this point gave me the heebie-jeebies. Let alone several direct rules, such as not leaving her side when in public, not using the potty without permission or supervision, and not removing one’s own diaper… Especially now that I had a pretty good sample of all the flavors of corporal punishment my Mommy had to offer when it came to seriously disciplining me. I could only imagine what punishment such over the top defiance would yield. There would likely be permanent marks on my behind by time she was done with me in the big boy punishment room. Or maybe, the reason I couldn’t bear to move my feet in defiance, was just picturing the moment after I sat down on the toilet, if I did… I would almost certainly hear my Mommy charging into the bathroom hot on my heels, bellowing to the crowded bathroom of strangers about how she was looking for her naughty, naughty boy. Then she would find me in the stall, pull me off the toilet, and no doubt publicly spank and scold me in front of the crowd of adult men, with my diaper dangling around my ankles. Would I ever be able to look another adult stranger in the eyes again after suffering such an unforgettable public humiliation? Or maybe, besides the potential spanking of a lifetime, or humiliation of a lifetime, the real reason why I couldn’t do it, why I couldn’t turn and run to the bathroom in that moment without my Mommy’s permission, was because deep down… I knew she was right. I didn’t deserve it. I knew I didn’t deserve to go to the potty until my Mommy was done shopping. Not at this point, anyway. On some level, I knew the crippling pains in my bowels were the price of acting like a baby, and not going potty when I was told to. Now, they were the price of wanting to be a big boy, and holding it like a big boy should. And even though I knew I had acted like such a baby earlier, I still so badly wanted to be a big boy. A big boy who made his Mommy proud more than anything. And I knew if I took off running without permission like a naughty baby, I would never be a big boy in her eyes again… But even despite my resolve to prove to my Mommy I was a big boy, with every step I continued following her as she meandered down the grocery aisle, the pain in my guts was becoming unbearable, and I sensed my willpower reaching yet another breaking point. “Mommyyyy…” I began softly whimpering again in barely audible pleas, tears coming to my eyes. “Mommyyyy… please hurry…” And even though she didn’t hear most of my pleas, or she chose to ignore them, she would still occasionally turn back to calmly reassure me, “Almost done, hon. Just a few more things. Almost done.” My whole body was trembling. Sweat was pouring down my face. I was rocking back and forth on my feet, squeezing my eyes shut, and focusing everything I had on keeping my bottom from exploding. My exhaustion and agony began to propel me into a near tantric-state. I didn’t know how much more I could take! I felt on the verge of totally collapsing or passing out. Suddenly, something my Mommy had said began to abruptly echo as a thought within my head… You wanted to be a big boy. You wanted to be a big boy. You wanted to be a big boy. I was dumbstruck by a sudden, dazed, agonizing epiphany. I abruptly stumbled forward, wrapped my arms around my Mommy, and broke down into hysterical, heaving sobs. “I’m sorry, Mommy! I was wrong! I can’t do it! I don’t want to be a big boy! I don’t know how to be a big boy, after all!” I wailed, burying my face in her chest and suddenly clinging to her like a lone life raft in an endless freezing sea. And in the blackness of my closed eyes against her chest, I heard her voice whisper so softly, it was just barely detectible… Just let it go, my baby boy. Just let it all go. I pulled my head away from my Mommy’s chest. She looked down at me, her expression confused. I suddenly felt a wave of indescribable calm. My tears totally dried, my physical pain evaporated. As if I was suddenly struck with enlightenment. “Is everything okay, bud?” my Mommy asked, her arms still wrapped around me. A slow, goofy smile grew across my face. And with one last big, deep inhale… FRRRRTT— I erupted with one of the most massive, stinky messes of my life, right into the seat of my diaper. All while my Mommy held me close, seemingly with no idea what was happening right before her eyes. ___________ Buy now to read the rest of this full-length (130+ pages) Novella! Buy on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0D23XGNKF Buy on Lulu: https://www.lulu.com/shop/nanny-chloe/falling-diapered-into-her-arms-my-story-of-regression-humiliation-and-messy-diaper-punishment-an-abdl-novella/ebook/product-65q7zmr.html Buy on Google Play: https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=wAsDEQAAQBAJ Don't forget to also view my full collection of naughty ABDL books at: www.nannychloetales.com and https://www.tumblr.com/blog/nannychloetales Thank you!

Hi, that’s a very reasonable question! I apologize for not being more clear, like I was in my tumblr post. It’s always a pleasure to meet a previous patreon subscriber, so thank you for your support then and now. This book is a polished, improved version of the patreon series. I added probably about 5k words and rewrote a lot of chapters. I’m sorry I lack the ability to be more specific than that. This is just how I’m trying to manage after all our patreons got shut down — putting the content out there as books instead. And trust me, I do work hard to try to make the stories much better than they were before. But I understand if it’s not your thing under the circumstances. Thanks for reading!

Thank you so much Mikey! The more I look at it the more I think it's a pacifier addict too. I knew you would know which one it was. But it looks like they're out of stock of that one because I can't find it, unless I overlooked it. Which seems very possible.

Hey everyone! Congrats to everyone for making it to about the halfway point in this story. I feel this chapter is very appropriate to mark that point in this story, but things are about to get a lot more interesting. Also, I just want to note that I could have dedicated a lot of time to this next chapter. Originally, it was going to be three separate chapters, but then I realized that it might get a little tiresome plot wise. In that same vein, I know I could have drastically simplified Emma’s thoughts or language, but that makes for a pretty boring or near incomprehensible chapter, so I elected not to in this case. I think the end result works and makes for a much more interesting read. Also, minor spoiler here, but Dash does show up in this chapter as an actual character. Nancy doesn’t know his name, so he’s not named, but I just want to put it out there. Namely, I want to note it first because considering the number of views this story has already garnered, I’m assuming some of you may not have read my previous story. As such, basically just remember that toys come alive when not being watched. I won’t commit to if its magic or whatever, but keep in mind that toys only reveal themselves to Littles in dire circumstances or when they believe they won’t be noticed. It’s not a big part of this story, focusing on Emma and all, but just in case anyone gets confused, that’s the reason for some elements occurring in this chapter. Next, as a reminder, I’m now polling between two stories to figure out what I should write next. The two choices are listed out in chapter 2, so be sure to check them out and let me know. As I will announce my winner in my last chapter, that would be the deadline for you to make your opinion known. As usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 8: Nothingness, a Doggy, and a Bond The trappings of my life soon became just that. I was a prisoner in my own mind. I didn’t want much anymore and everything around me became fuzzy… unclear as to what was going on. At first, I mourned the loss, but soon, I took comfort in the peace and safety my new life afforded me. I knew it was a dangerous path to head down but considering all that had happened and that I now felt practically all alone in this world, it just felt like a good alternative to what could have occurred to me. See, when Littles sometimes ‘break,’ as I did, we tended to go down one of two routes. Most just regressed their own minds and became mentally like babies from then on out. Recovery was possible but challenging and usually a failure. For me, however, I had gone the other way and I had become locked within my own mind. The major problem of this route for Littles was that their already fragile mind often would regress from sheer disuse or the inability to fight off anyone as they approached with something to further harm or regress them. Unfortunately, I was already starting to feel these atrophied effects take hold of me. While I knew that Nurse Bee’s special shot and whatever happened afterward with the pain in my head could be blamed for some of the problems I was now experiencing, I also knew that the more time trapped in my own mind was now severely degrading it. It wasn’t long before my needs became simple. My emotions were always in flux but my communication with them became very limited as well. A gurgle meant I was happy. Crying meant I was uncomfortable. And anything else that occurred outside my mind was just a physical manifestation of my own body. Even my memory seemed to fade with time. Concepts I had known for years all began to vanish. At first, I was so scared. Imagine forgetting your parents’ faces or the home you grew up in. Time seemed to just not matter anymore though, and it didn’t take long for me to not even mind that something was lost anymore. After all, if I couldn’t remember it, I couldn’t mourn it. Holes were left in my memory, but as the holes started to become the majority of what I could remember, one hole was just as sad, or meaningless, as the next. At some point, I just stopped caring. Between that and my near-constant need for sleep and other basic needs, my life soon merged into a routine. By the end of the second day, I had nearly lost all track of time and the only things I could recognize were those things that continued to be mentioned. Daycare, Nancy, Emma, diaper, messy… things like that, but most of those words had little meaning for me anymore. And each time I closed my eyes to sleep once again, I found I was missing more. I knew it wasn’t long before my current life was all I knew. I would live in the moment, not caring about what was next or what had just happened. Every time I had that thought though, my eyes soon closed once more as I fell asleep in my crib. * * * Nancy looked down at me and I cooed over seeing her face again. I wasn’t sure who ‘Nancy’ was exactly, but she was a pretty lady who kept me fed, warm, and clean. To me, that’s what mattered. “Who’s my Little snookums, huh? Is someone ready to go to daycare?” she asked, clearly not expecting a sophisticated answer back. As usual, I cooed back in response. “I’ll take that as a yes!” Her smile was infectious, and she played with my feet for a moment, before picking me up and taking me to the car. I didn’t like the car or my car seat, so I began to fuss. “Oh, honey. I know you don’t like this thing, but I need to get you to daycare and…” Her phone began to ring, and I started to fuss more as she turned her head away from me. “Oh, shoot! That’s work. I’ve got to take this, sweetie. I’m sorry.” She then popped her phone out. “Hello? Yes, Greg. I’ll be there in a little bit… No, I know that you all wanted me there early, but I just can’t with Emma…” Nancy seemed all upset and I got a little upset as well. I had no idea who Greg was, but I just wanted her attention back on me. She tried to play with my feet from a distance, but it just wasn’t the same. Nancy noticed. “Look Greg, I have to go… I didn’t regress her. You think I wanted this? She’s wonderful and all, but…” She looked back at me with a sad face and then quieted her voice. I could still hear her though. “It’s not my fault. The daycare screwed her up and taking care of a near newborn is hard enough. She had a blowout this morning and… yes… yes… I understand. I will be there as soon as I can…” Sighing, Nancy then hung up and turned her attention back to me. “Sorry, baby. I needed to take that but come on. I’ve got to take you to daycare pronto.” Seeing her attention pop back to me, I only cooed again. She smiled and I tried to as well, but I just heard a little farting noise instead. ‘Weird…’ Nancy tickled me a little bit and then left. Just as I was about to cry out though, she popped back in front of me, so everything was good. She even made this big noise with what we were in, and I cooed over the rattling I now felt in my body. Smiling back at me, Nancy turned on some of what she called ‘music.’ I wasn’t really sure what it was, but I just knew I liked it. So, I cooed back at her again. What felt like a thousand years later, Nancy stopped, disappeared for a moment, but then reappeared and picked me up. I cooed at her touch, but before I could really feel her closeness, I was given to someone else. I began to distress a little. “Sorry, Diana for the late drop-off,” Nancy apologized. “She had a blowout and I hate to drop and run, but I’ve really gotta go now.” The woman, Diana I guess, nodded and raised up my hand a little. “That’s okay, Nancy. We’ve got her now. You run off back to your job.” Nancy then waved at us and took off. Diana waved my already raised hand back to her and it felt kind of funny. I felt I had a new ability as my hand flopped about. It was so cool, but Diana stopped and just sighed. “Well, I guess I best get you settled Emma. No need to wait around out here…” I started to distress a bit, but Diana soon started bouncing me a little in her arms. It was actually kind of fun and I cooed a little bit during the process. Before we had even moved much further though, this one tiny person came up to us. “Miss Dee-Dee! Miss Dee-Dee!” she called out. ‘Who’s Miss Dee-Dee?’ Diana looked down at her though. “Yes, Lilly. Is there something I can help you with?” Lilly, I guess, nodded her head and clutched the doll in her hands more tightly. “When’s Emma gonna come back an’ play with us? Is she any better?” Diana started responded back, though I still wasn’t sure what was happening on whether she was really Diana, Miss Dee-Dee, or was just a special person and had two names. ‘Do I have two names?’ Diana shook her head to Lilly’s question. “I’m sorry, Lilly, but Emma here is on a different level than you are now. She might come back, but you need to be prepared that she might not.” Lilly seemed to listen but then quickly looked distressed and tried pulling my foot from her position below me. “Emma! Emma! Please talk to me! Please! You gotta wake up!” Diana moved me away and pulled Lilly away from me before waving over to a new woman. “Easy, Lilly. You need to stop that. There’s nothing any of us can do now, so you just need to accept this. Until then, Miss Mindy here is going to take care of you, okay?” By now though, Lilly was crying, and I started to get a little distressed myself. “Oh dear,” Diana said as she started to bounce me around again. “Guess someone needs their morning nap and a feed.” My cries stopped and I cooed back. “I’ll take that as a yes then.” Diana then waved to Miss Mindy and Lilly as the two hugged each other. Lilly was still crying, and she seemed so familiar, but the prospect of getting fed quickly snapped my mind off the brief thought. That cycle repeated for a long time after. Maybe a year, or a month… a day… actually, I wasn’t really too sure on the who concept of time anymore, but it felt like a long time. Regardless, nothing changed. I would wake in the morning, Nancy would drop me off and would get more upset every day with me, I would come to daycare and go through that cycle, and then I would be taken home where I would go to sleep again. It was all a routine, but a pleasant one at that. My world had shrunk very nicely and despite Nancy and others seeming distressed around me occasionally, I just kind of accepted my life. It felt safe and easy. But I guess life never stays that way though, and soon, I finally felt like I was cracking up. That patchwork-like stuffed dog that seemed somewhat familiar had wandered into my crib in the Burrows room… and yes, I know how it sounds, but I swear they walked right up to me and even spoke to me. I just assumed it was a dream, but he kept doing it with such vigor that it almost frightened me. Stuffy’s are just not supposed to talk. It’s almost a basic law of nature, ‘I think?’ but after a few more times, I kind of just accepted his presence as he snuggled down next to me after trying to get me to talk for the millionth time. I mean, even if I wanted to or could for that matter, what would I even say to a stuffy come to life? ‘Hi, my name is Emma. You are supposed to be an inanimate object and you’re probably possessed or I’m going crazy… more than what’s normal for what I’ve been through that is. Want to be friends?’ Something like that just didn’t happen, and I kinda just accepted the funny-looking but soft stuffy into my life. On top of that though, I began to realize I almost had a superpower of sorts. I couldn’t fly like the birdies outside or be strong like Nancy was, but I heard everything when most people thought I was just a shell of who I was. I was already seeing the stuffy come to life, but I saw so much more as well. I couldn’t really retain anything, but nonetheless, I still heard everything in the moment at least. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Gillies,” Miss Dee-Dee said while the other large scary woman looked down at me in the crib. I had since managed to remember Miss Dee-Dee’s name and I was so proud of myself. It was small, but I felt like such a big girl for remembering that she was called two names. Two was a big number after all. “She hasn’t changed since Tulia brought her in last week.” “Then I want you to do something different with her. Nancy is threatening to sue us or leave, and because it’s disrupting her work, they’re backing her up as well,” Mrs. Gillies, I guess, said harshly to Miss Dee-Dee. For once, I swear that Miss Dee-Dee seemed scared herself. “But it’s not my fault, Mrs. Gillies…” Miss Dee-Dee tried to defend herself. “It wasn’t my medicine that made her this way. It’s Brit…” “It’s Nurse Bee around here, Diana,” Mrs. Gillies rudely interrupted Miss Dee-Dee. I really wanted to defend my kind carer around here, but I could only just coo and let out a little fart instead. ‘It’s so funny when I do that… Miss Dee-Dee always changes me afterward and blows kisses on my tummy. It tickles!’ I paused, realizing I had lost track of what was being said above me. ‘Shoot! She’s saying something again.’ “…I know it’s really hard to work under these conditions, Diana, but we have rules for the staff here as well for a good reason. You know that, or do I have to remind you again?” “N… no, m… ma’am,” Miss Dee-Dee stuttered out. “I don’t n… need a reminder…” Mrs. Gillies smiled and rubbed Miss Dee-Dee’s shoulder. “That’s very good, Diana. It’s for your own good. Trust me. I’ll talk to Nurse Bee tonight and see if we can’t figure out this little glitch of hers. I think I can calm down Nancy and get to accept everything, but I’d prefer not to have to do that for other caregivers. Six Littles ending up like this is too much and you know I don’t like this type of outcome for our Littles.” Miss Dee-Dee nodded. “Yes ma’am. Of course.” Both looked down on me, smiled, and then walked out of my view. I was more than a little confused of what I had just heard, but I felt there was a big problem with someone called ‘Nurse Bee.’ I don’t think that Mrs. Gillies or Miss Dee-Dee wanted me this way, so maybe I had two other people on my sid… ‘Oh! Another toot! Feels so funny! Everything feels so squishy now! Squishy time! Squishy time!’ I cooed a little in my crib. The stuffy dog would be here any moment and Miss Dee-Dee would come back and remove my squishiness and… ‘Wait… wasn’t I just thinking about something that was said? Done to me?’ I really tried to remember, but another little toot came from all my straining to think. ‘Oh well. I guess if it was really important, I would have remembered it…’ So, all that kept happening. I would see something, panic and think about it, but then forget about it just as quickly. I might remember some of it later, which is the only reason that I could retain anything, but the most I could piece together was that Miss Dee-Dee and Mrs. Gillies wanted to help me out and were sorry and Nurse Bee was bad… I guess. Again, all super fuzzy, but like most things, I just had to live with it. It seemed that would be my life forever, but my new stuffed companion apparently just kept coming to me. Oddly, during one of the visits, I swear I heard a voice in my head and life in my limbs for the first time in forever… a week… a day ago? I really didn’t know, but it was there, or at least it was for a moment. I tried after, but only managed to make out another little fart. Now, I had never had a toy before… at least I think so, so I wasn’t sure why I kept getting this strong urge to hug this stuffy that kept dropping by. He certainly wasn’t new, and his stitching almost scared me, but he stuck by me. No matter what; diaper change, bottle feeding, cries… everything. He would always hide when Miss Dee-Dee or Miss Tully came to check on me and calm me down, but he was always back soon after. It wasn’t much, but he was someone I could cling to and rely on to be there for me in this place. So, when he came back to me one day and laid down for a while after I had arrived at the daycare late again, I didn’t really think anything of it, but was just glad he was here again. Almost instantly though, I heard something again buzzing in my head, but unlike the other times, I could almost make out most of the words. “Wake up… wake up… no one is upset with you… you are a good girl… just wake up…” just started playing over and over in my head. At first, I couldn’t make much of it out, but when I concentrated, by the third time it went through my head, I could hear almost as if someone were directly talking to me. Having just woken up from a nap, I could have sworn it was all just part of a dream, but as my eyes began to flutter open more to their still semi-relaxed awakened state, I heard something new this time. “Emma… wake up, Emma. Wake up for me… show me something… please, Emma… I will protect you… I will make it all okay… just please wake up…” I began to get excited. Hallucination or not, the patched stuffy dog seemed to be trying to reach out to me. There was no one else her, so it just had to be him. Being so far set adrift in a world of nothingness, it was something, so when he walked away from me again, I didn’t like it. So, I tried to muster all the strength I had inside and tried to will myself to do… say anything. Finally, I let out an “Uhhh…” The stuffy stopped and looked back over at me. First, I was elated that he had stopped. Even more though, second, I had made a noise. Having basically just been a passenger in my body for so long… ‘Maybe?’ I still wasn’t sure about things like that, but to me, all this now almost seemed like a miracle. I watched as the stuffy moved closer to me. He almost seemed just as relieved as I was, but as quickly as he turned around to see me again, he began walking away again. Not wanting for any of these miraculous new sensations or ability to go away, I let out another “Uhhh…” Again, the stuffy whipped back around to see me. I wanted him to do anything just so I could test more of myself out. Perhaps it was just a fluke, and I had some bad gas, always possible with a Little, but I just hoped it was something more… something longer lasting. ‘Had I finally found my exit from this locked-in state?’ Curiously though, instead of speaking to me, the stuffy only stared back for a while and then began to gather the blanket around me into a large pile halfway between me and the bars of the crib. In an instant, he went from looking at me to disappearing completely. I began to panic. ‘Where had he gone? He was right there! Is he a magic dog? Do I have some special magic dog just floating around and that’s why he can talk, walk, and I can hear him mentally?’ I wasn’t sure at all, but I definitely knew I wanted him back. So, frustrated, I dug deep and let out another “Uhhh…” To my relief, he popped out from behind the bunched pile he had formed. I still wondered if he was a magical stuffy, but I just cared that he was back again. Suddenly, I felt an odd sensation on my face. It was moving, near on its own and felt like it did when I cooed lately, but I still felt confused as to what it was. Seconds later though, my mind clicked into place and a deep memory popped to the surface and I realized I had no reason to panic. I wasn’t in danger. I was just smiling! Everything felt so joyous, and I just wanted to hug my new magical stuffy so badly. Moreover, I just wanted anything to happen to keep this progress going, and as if he could read my thoughts, his mouth slowly opened. “Emma…” My heart leapt for joy, and I felt myself smile even more. My magical stuffy spoke! I hadn’t just imagined it all, and I wanted to see or to hear more, but I was just so happy that a change felt like it was in the air. And, as if all that wasn’t enough, my magical stuffy walked over to me and nuzzled into my chest. Not being able to do much, but still wanting to acknowledge what he had done, I tilted my body a bit right into him. He didn’t say anything this time, but he seemed happy. That happened for a little while longer, but I could see that he almost looked like he wanted more. As if to confirm my theory, he then leaned over near to my face and looked right into my eyes. “Emma… you’re safe with me. I can be your friend if you want, but just please come out of the darkness. Come back to us, Emma…” As if a key had suddenly been turned, I felt new life within me. Sensations I had forgotten long ago came flooding back to me. My eyes, once so lifeless and still except for the keenest of observers, began to open wider as I looked back at my magical stuffy. “Oh Emma…” he said breathlessly. Everything felt so good… so new and exciting. I wanted to embrace it all and to my surprise, I even began to be able to wiggle about as my body started to awaken once more. It still wasn’t much, and I couldn’t win a race against a snail most likely, but even a little bit of something was still more as compared to when I had nothing. It was an absolutely perfect moment and I had never felt such joy in my life, or at least that’s what I assumed right then. But then something clicked within me. Now, just to be clear, as my faint recollections of my past began to flood in, I started to remember the basic stuff first since I had become like this. I remembered names and faces for the first time since all this began. Who they were was still hazy and I maybe could tell you the difference between the days, but the memories were slowly coming back. And while all that felt wonderful, I realized just how boring my life had become. It was a series of feedings, naps, diaper changes, and being hauled from one location to another. In all my memories, I could only remember being in this daycare, Nancy’s house, and her… ‘Car? Yes… car…’ I had the faintest sense there was more to life than that, but it was just beyond my fingertips. Still though, it was there, and it made me want more. Which is when I realized that I used to have more… and lost it. I wasn’t sure, how, why, or when at that moment, but I just knew I did. Seeing myself lying in this crib and being excited to do more than fart or cry was a serious blow to my happiness. My previous wiggles quickly stopped, and though I was getting my memories back, I was still very much the person I had become. So, with my emotions still in flux and triggered so easily, I broke… again. I deeply worried that this new issue would break me as it had before. I felt all the same sensations surrounding me and the loss that each of them meant. Everything felt so distant, but the images were still there of at least who I used to be on a large scale. I couldn’t remember things like street names or where I was a year ago but faces and things that I had done were becoming much clearer, so my loss now felt even worse. And, when all that began to fade again, I panicked even more. Tears flowed from my eyes, and I would have given anything to stop myself. I wanted an out, but I didn’t see anything. I was in the same room and even the same crib with the same sense of loss. I felt myself plummeting toward the abyss once more, but then I opened my eyes, and through the tears, I saw one difference: my magical stuffy. Hoping and wishing beyond and harder than I ever had before, I willed the last of my being into my arms and shot them straight out to what felt like the most recent constant in my life. I could have missed, and everything would have been over… but I didn’t. My hands clasped around his soft fury body, and I brought him right into my chest as tightly as I could. My tears were horrible, and I surely thought someone was going to help me, but no one ever came. Miss Dee-Dee, Miss Tully, or the volunteers here must have been on break or something, but that still left me. My magical stuffy was wonderful, but I just wasn’t sure if even he was enough. Suddenly though, like before, I heard something float through my head. “Easy, Emma… calm down and relax… listen to my messages… feel them… hear them… relax…” Surprised, but so relieved, I could feel my sobs began to fade out of nowhere. I knew it had to be my magical stuffy, and as such, I felt he was truly magical, so I hugged him even tighter. I felt a little fuzzy and sleepy right then, but at least my cries began to simmer. I had no idea what was happening, but as I gazed down to my magical stuffy, I just felt I had finally found the peace I was looking for. Never wanting to part with him again, I hugged him closer with one arm, but curiously, my other snaked up and my thumb planted itself right in my mouth. Never having the strength to do so before or the desire before all this, it was an odd and yet wonderous feeling. I never wanted it to leave my mouth again, but as my eyes drifted closed, I just felt happy that maybe, just maybe, I could find my way back to who I used to be. * * * Later that night, I was feeling much better, especially after I was able to wiggle my fingers after my nap, but back home, I could see that Nancy was in another one of her moods. I had been distressingly ripped away from my magical stuffy when she picked me up and now, amidst all the chaos, I desperately wanted him back. Further, having remembered some of my past now, I sadly knew that today wasn’t the first time that Nancy had come home upset. Remembering other times, I didn’t know much, but I knew I was a burden to her lately with the lack of my current abilities that she now had to deal with. Still, after my bath, I was snuggled into my jammies for the night and brought downstairs by a now calmer Nancy to my relief. I sat on her lap as we watched Squares and Letters, a show dedicated to younger Littles like me. There wasn’t much of a plot, and I drifted in and out from time to time, but tonight at least informed me, when I correctly guessed what a square was, that I was slowly getting better. Unfortunately, in the middle of the show, Nancy got a call, and I was placed into my bouncer carrier seat nearby to still watch the TV. “Yes, hello sir… no sir, I just got home and…” Her face quickly changed to one of concern and worry. “No sir, I didn’t mean to leave before my meeting was over but Emma and… I understand sir but I really need to… yes sir… yes, I understand that Littlecare is important to the company, but I need to find a way to make things work… yes sir… yes sir, I’ll be in early tomorrow morning… goodnight, sir…” Nancy then hung the phone and seemed like she was about ready to cry. I wanted more than anything to comfort Nancy right then, but as things were, I could remember what had just happened and that Nancy was having work troubles, however, that was about it. Right as I thought she was about to burst into tears though, her head snapped towards me. “You…” I had never seen her so angry before, let alone have it directed right toward me. With my newly rediscovered perception of the world though, I was never more scared in this house than right then. “You… you were punished by the daycare. I read the report, and you did this to yourself!” she spat at me. I could see the tears begin to drip down her face and I knew she was just speaking out of anger and frustration over everything, but I was genuinely shocked over what I was seeing now. “Mrs. Gillies said it was an accident and that you really couldn’t be held responsible for your actions, but ever since you came here, you’ve defied everything!” To emphasize her point, Nancy had even thrown her hands up in the air. “I mean, ever since that first day I met you… it’s just all been about you. You never thought any of us Bigs were right, and now, look at you! Probably can’t even tell if you’re wet or messy right now as compared to before. I bet if I checked, not even that long after I just changed you, you would at least be a little wet!” I wiggled just a tiny amount to see if I was wet, but I really couldn’t tell if I was or not anymore. I suspected that would take a long time to come back… if at all. “And now… I’m stuck with practically a newborn! What got into me to take you in? I must have been out of my mind when I did it. I should just return you to the foster home…” She paused and stomped her foot on the ground. “Damn it! They probably wouldn’t even take you anymore. You’re just a lost cause to pretty much everyone now. Ten years ago, newborns were all the rage, but now? I might as well give you freely to the institution up the street!” It was all a lot to process. I could tell this had been building up for some time, but to hear it all in one fell swoop… I felt like right on the cusp of everything turning back to normal between us, now, was crashing down all around me. For all I knew, in a week I would be locked up with the rest of the deformed or mentally damaged Littles in the nearby state institution. I still couldn’t remember much, but Garden Gate Hospital stood out in my mind as a place to avoid at all costs if any of the rumors there were true. So, tired, emotionally drained from my long and trying day, and now verbally assaulted by and scared of Nancy, my seemingly whole world yet who now seemed set on giving me away, my emotions simply gave way. I tried to hold them back but considering the earlier smile I had managed still felt like a miracle, I was useless to keep from bursting into tears. Unfortunately, Nancy was still upset at me and her whole life now. She tried to ignore me at first. She even walked away and plugged her ears at one point, but I could tell it was no use. I could see hatred and desperation in her eyes. “Shut up! Shut up! Just shut up!” she lashed out at me. It was a terrible moment, but even through the blur of my own tears, I could see that Nancy was at her wits end as well and crying herself. For a moment, she even seemed shocked herself over what she had just said out loud to my poor tiny crying form and cupped her hands over her mouth and shook her head. She didn’t mean her words tonight, and I could see it in her eyes. It still didn’t take their sting or the fear they induced away from my heart, but it was something. It was something even more to see though as she leaped out and grabbed me up. “Oh baby! Baby! Please! Shhh, shhh. I didn’t mean it. I’m so sorry!” she lamented as she began to rub my back and bounce me around. I wasn’t sure I was emotionally ready to forgive her, but my infantile Little instincts were in the drivers seat still and began to lull my cries away. “Shhh, shhh, honey. I’m so, so sorry, Emma. I’m just so stressed. Easy there. Easy. I’ve got you.” My cries continued to quiet down. “There, there. You’re safe. No one’s going to hurt you. No one’s going to take you away. I was just upset, and I didn’t mean all that.” She then paused and sat on the couch as she transferred into more of a cradling position with me looking back up at her. “I don’t even know if you can understand me. I wish you could speak, but if you can still think, I’m just so sorry.” I probably could have said something, maybe even a ‘na’ for her name by now, but I decided to keep quiet still. I wanted to hear what she had to say first. “I took you in as a friend, but I didn’t think of the future. I should have and that’s on me. You were just an adult in your old life. All our commercials say otherwise, but I could see your intelligence when you read at least… then all that got taken away. Slowly, you turned into this… and I just wasn’t ready.” She paused for a moment and looked away briefly at some of my babyish equipment and toys that now littered her family room. “I should have talked to my friends more about you and what to expect, but I didn’t. I should have talked to my boss more, but I didn’t. That’s on me, and there’s no excuse. Punished or not, you put your trust in me, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that. I still don’t know if you can understand me, but maybe show me a sign if you can? Please, baby… something… anything…” I debated for a second if I should just let her wallow in her torment longer, as words didn’t always heal other words said before, but I saw the genuine look of apology and regret in her eyes. I saw the longing for forgiveness the most though, so, having a little more control over my body now, I decided to smile back at her. Not even questioning my newly required ability, Nancy lit up. “Oh honey! Thank you! I don’t know if that’s maybe even just gas, but I’ll take what I can get. Come here, baby!” She then held me close and began to rock me back and forth as she hummed a pleasant and familiar tune. I couldn’t place it for the life of me, but I was just happy over our shared tiny moment. Everything remained like that in such peace and quiet… but then my stomach began to growl. I just ate when I came home, but I guessed my stomach needed what it needed. Nancy quickly noticed. “Oh! I think someone’s stomach just growled at me, huh?” She then slightly adjusted me and prodded around with my diapered rear. “Hmmm… not messy, and you’re probably not uncomfortable, but what about being hungry? Do you want some food maybe?” She looked back at me and knowing my own needs and having the ability to communicate a little better, I smiled back at her. She chuckled. “I’ll take that as a yes then.” She stood up and walked away from the family room couch, stepping over a few of my leftover items on the floor. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you fed.” I was so happy. We were communicating much better now and Nancy felt like she was finally accepting who I was as a Little now. I wasn’t sure how long the peace would last, and I still had a long way to go myse… ‘Wait… where are we going?’ I watched as Nancy slowly walked me back upstairs instead of the kitchen to fetch me a jar of pureed Littlefood or to warm a bottle up. As we entered my nursery, I at least knew where we were going, but I still wasn’t sure why. Like the rest of my life, as we entered, my eyes were confronted with the notion that my room had changed as well. Unlike other Littles though, whose rooms were changed out of spite or humiliation most of the time, mine was changed out of necessity. The rocking chair was new, but comfortable whenever Nancy read me a story. The books, no longer read by me, or even held by me, had grown simplistic and overly colorful. A changing table, crib, and my wardrobe had all changed as well and everything had now been bathed in pink, purples, or some kind of pastels that blended in nicely. It was a wonderfully comfortable room, but I was still confused why we were up here to feed me. Sitting down in the rocking chair and cradling me back in her arms, Nancy didn’t seem satisfied with my position for far longer than normal. Once she stopped moving me around though, I was too low to be read to, yet too high to be spanked. It was extremely comfortable though, and I felt I could even doze off quite easily, but I still had to question it all in the first place. ‘Had Nancy finally cracked like I did? Couldn’t I have just been fed before she did though?’ As if to punctuate my pressing concern my stomach rumbled again. Nancy smiled down at me. “You know… Mrs. Gillies and I have been talking for a while now. She’s been a big help in making sure you were cared for with your new disabilities, but she’s been slowly suggesting other things that could help us bond better. One, I even bought pills for, but as it turned out, coincidentally, I found out I didn’t even need them a few days ago. I wasn’t sure if to tell you or not, but I think as a kind of recommitment from me to you, I should tonight.” I was still confused, but my eyes bugged out in further confusion as Nancy began to unbutton her shirt. I could feel the heat radiating off her body and I hoped that’s where it would all end. It didn’t though and I froze in shock as she unbuttoned a clasp on her bra and revealed her chest fully to me. “See baby… I’ve been thinking that I should become something more for you. I’ve just been torn between my work and home life lately, but tonight, I realized I really should be focusing on you. You need me right now, and if my job doesn’t understand in this world, I will just find another. After all, it’s not every day I try to start being a mommy to my Little now, is it?” she asked down to me. Her words were full of tenderness and her touch was as soft as ever, but I saw a twinkling of some kind in her eyes. I wasn’t sure what it was at first, but I soon realized that it was desire. She had shown it before, but now, her desire was to care for me and to be my new mommy. Yesterday, I might have just cooed at the idea, but today, I felt very different. Unfortunately, once again tonight, my Little babyish instincts began to take over right then. Maybe it was the smell coming off Nancy or the sight of her exposed nipples, but still without much control over my body, my face began to head right for her chest without question or much resistance. Being fully aware of everything and still feeling that something was off, though I couldn’t quite place it, I could only view my actions as an outside observer in silent horror. See, while my memory was still fragmented, I did remember a few things about Bigs and Littles, namely about breastfeeding. Just the situation in general was the stuff of most Littles nightmares, but there were also several facts about it, all interesting to observe but not necessarily witness firsthand. Chiefly though, I remembered something about the hormones in women Bigs specifically. Breastfeeding tended to form a bond they couldn’t break. It was similar for Littles, but the bond formed in half the time for Bigs. Worse, the bond tended to come with a few side effects, namely a change in the personalities of the women feeding their Littles. As my lips wrapped around her nipple, I could do nothing but watch in terror and panic over what was going to happen next. Horrifyingly, as my still regressed instincts took over, I found myself growing attached to the milky substance now trickling down my throat. It was difficult at first, and occasionally Nancy would wince and tell me “No teeth,” but my body just seemed to want more of the wonderous liquid. For her part, Nancy only just cooed at me and stroked my hair in clear contentment. Buried deep, I felt the liquid almost tasted like a milkshake and was the best thing I had ever consumed, but my newly awakened mind burned with the shock of everything that was going on. Before today, everything seemed boring but routine. I could have mapped the next years of my life out with no problem. Once I had awakened though, everything now felt like it was so up in the air. Nancy seemed so much more set on becoming my mommy, but conversely, I felt certain that I wanted more in this life. I wanted to run, play, and jump outside. I knew my path back was difficult, if not impossible, but my goals were still there. As I began to drift off and Nancy just continued to smile in near pure bliss down at me though, I had no idea if her possible new personality would even allow me to. No matter what, I just felt the tremendous weight of the future bearing down on me and all the uncertainties and challenges I was sure to face. For now, though, I just drifted off as I continued to suck down the creamy liquid.

I want to let you know that there is a new ABDL Podcast. "The Crinkle Club", hosted by my friend Comfortably Crinkly and myself. We talks about many aspects of ABDL and bring guests to the Club. Comfortably Crinkly is the owner of Crinkly Creations, a company that sells handmade custom diapers, and I am a professional ABDL carer. Together we explore, exchange ideas, conversations and information that we hope you find find interesting and fun. You can listen to it on Spotify at Let me know if you enjoy it and if you would like to send me any questions for either Crinkly or myself (or both), we will probably dedicate one episode to Q&A! We have already been receiving many messages from littles, carers and families who said they enjoed it and also found it useful, or found an episode that speaks to them. We are still a new podcast, have just published 4 episodes, and looking forward to more. The Crinkle Club is out every other Tuesday, until we take a summer break.

@Little BabyDoll Christine It could indeed be a DNS issue: Sometimes it can take anywhere from 5-10 minutes to a full 24 hours to go through the DNS servers on the internet when you change your IP address. or you add a website. They Call That TTL (Time To Live). I would still recommend that you have your ISP and your web hosting company check it out, because your website should come up whether it is https:// or http://. The fact that sandralyn.net resolves to the same address as that porn site is something I would check out, as @DailyDisays because you certainly do NOT want to have someone visit you, and be "surprised" as He was or I was. We know that you would not have that type of content, so when I saw that, I was like "WOAH!! Christine would NEVER serve that content, that is NOT like her at all: I better check this out". The Clue I got was when you did not have a match on your certificate, and when @tuffydid the 'host sandralyn.net' command and it came back as the same IP address as sandralyn.net, I checked it myself, and it came back the same as his output I would give it til morning to see if there is a change: when I did the "test" you did, I got the page that you gave, in BOTH http:// and https:// so at least that worked for me now. When I do the other.sandralyn.net address, NOW I get:

How many of you grew up wetting the bed? I certainly did. I wasn't reliably dry at night until my early 20s.

Just got to reading the whole story, front to back, and damn, I feel so sorry for Varis. His life got completely turned around. And now Larry, that...I can't say it for fear of being banned, is now threatening him?! After the poor guy had his marriage dissolved, and people like Mike being condescending, and his whole life changed as a result? Varis is right: it isn't fair... But I'm glad Mari is still a rock, and Josh is helping a ton. But seriously, (censor) Larry.

Sounds like a New York Jets fan

Wow! that's really cool Ashy. I really wish I grew up a bedwetter. But I didn't unfortunately.😔 Although, I do remember that when I was 8 years old I wet the bed one night and it was a lot of pee-pees. So much so that my mom put the fear of God in me and I never wanted to do it again after that, even though it was just an accident. Did you wear diapers for bed wetting during that time or no?

12 hmmm I was just getting started. I wet all through my teens.

Marry fought against the unending tide of pleasure that the vibrator forced on her. She would not cum in public. She gritted her teeth and kicked her legs. Yet, she was loosing the battle and she knew it. Her struggling turned frantic as she felt her body loose it battle to pleasure. "MMMMMM" she cried out as waves of pleasure forced itsway out of her right into her waiting panties. It took a few moments for marry to somewhat pull her senses back. Only their was a new promblem. The vibrator was still going. "Mmmph Heprh" Mary tried to beg for someone to come turn off the vibrator. Yet all that came out were unintelligible grunts quickly turning into the moans of a whore. Orgasm after Orgasm hit her as the vibrator kept forcing her senstive loins with unwanted pleasure. "Hi there! Its your turn sweetie." A condescendingly sweet voice broke through the pleasure. As she vaguely felt the stroller begin to move. Hope blossomed in Marry's now muddled mind. Maybe the vibrator would finally. That hope died as the vibrator kept going forcing her to cum again. They eventually made it to what seemed like a children's clinic sized up for adults. They passed by a waiting room and Marry noticed that their were no children's toy or chairs. Instead sybians replaced the colored chairs that would normally be in such a place, with restrains added on, instead of toys their were expensive looking plastic pony rides with a metal bar set in its centor. A young blong women dressed like an old fashion mom was reading a book in the only chairs, One plain white chair for each sybian, that were in the waiting room. On the sybian close to the womens chair was a girl dressed up in cutsy princess pajama accented by her diaper bulge. She had a red stuffy nose and was crying. Eventually Marry was wheeled into a doctors room. She expected to be allowed to at least move around, instead 2 caretakers carried her over to the examination table all the while a third caretaker kept the vibrator angled on her now ruined pink panties. "Hello. Little marry, I see your in good health. We just need to give you a few shots and you can be on your way to "messy" training." The man pulled out 3 syringes and begun to explain one each shot would do to the barely paying attention marry. "This first shot is going to regulate your weight. Once this has run through your system you will no longer be able to gain weight. Unfortunately, you will have to eat 2 to 3 times more then normal. It will also mean you will need more frequent diapers changes." Without warning she felt the doctor inject the needle into her. "This one is something of an aphrodisiac. It will enhance your sense of pleasure while reducing your sens of pain." Once again it was immediately injected into her. "Finally we have this third bit of medicine. It will reduce your emotional control and will hopefully make you have a few public tantrums." The final needle was injected in.

Yup "Outgrew it" when I was 12 though

I’d have to say that I have one foot firmly planted in the AB camp and one foot firmly planted in the DL camp and I have to say I love diapers !! Printed, non printed I don’t care as long as they’re wrapped around my crotch and I get to pee in them!!

Chapter 11 “Has Simon been a good Daddy, Baby?” I was still nursing on her full breast. I unlatched and replied: “Yes Mama” “That’s good to hear. Do you think he deserves a treat? Intrigued, I happily replied again “Yes Mama”. “Good girl, that’s very sweet of you. Now, being a grown up is very responsible and often comes with great pressure. Wouldn’t it be nice if Simon could spend a little bit of time as a baby boy, being looked after by his mama and loved by his baby sister?” “That would be lovely Mama!” She kissed me on my forehead and lay me down on the bed as she got up from the bed and went over to Simon, who was waiting expectantly. This was an interesting twist in the proceedings! Paula quickly undressed Simon and then had him lay on the bed next to me. Intrigued and excited as to how all of this was going to play out, and feeling genuine warmth for Simon, I reach out to him and held his hand. He turned his head towards me and smiled happily. “Time for your nappy, Baby Simon.” Paul went off to gather supplies before returning with a rather large nappy decorated with dinosaurs. It looked properly babyish. As she placed the nappy under Simon’s bum she asked: “Has baby Simon been to the potty for a poo-poo today?” “No Mummy.” “Oh dear. We don’t want baby to be constipated, do we? I’ll pop a couple of suppositories up your little bum-hole to sort that out, sweetie.” Simon had been very adept at nappy changing, but Paula was even better. A dummy was pushed into his mouth and Daddy was Baby in no time at all. “Come on you two, on the floor. You can play with your toys.” The toys weren’t massively interesting, to be honest, but it was fun playing with Simon. He encouraged me to sit on a big plushie bear and bounce up and down. My poop was going everywhere and I really stank, but neither Simon nor Paula seemed to care. Paula sat and watched us play before starting to dictate its direction and pace. “Baby Louise, I want you to reach into Simon’s nappy and take out his little baby willy.” I did as I was told. I could feel it stiffen as soon as I held it. “Good girl. That’s your special dummy. I want you to suck on it nicely for Mummy.” I did exactly what I was told. Good girl. Now lie on Simon with your stinky nappy in his face. Keep sucking on your special dummy sweetheart” I moved myself into position. Simon pushed his face into my filthy nappy, pushing onto my sex with some vigour. This was certainly having an effect on me - and Simon was soon ready to come, his back arching with the tension and pleasure of having what was clearly one of his sexual fantasies come true. As he came he also filled his nappy. I’m not entirely sure it was a deliberate act - it seemed as though the suppositories removed what little control he had at the point of orgasm. He ejaculated in my mouth - something I never allow normally and, a wild decision of the moment, I swallowed. “Well. You two babies play very nicely together. So sweet.” We sat on the floor, surrounded by toys, in our dirty nappies. As you’ve been such good babies, mummy’s going to feed you both together. Come up on the bed” She soon had us in position, sucking on our Mama’s breasts. Her hand first fondled the back of my nappy and then moved to the front, massaging my sex through the nappy before moving inside. The touch of her fingers on my sex was electric. She touched me in all the right places, in all the right ways. My vagina was covered in poop but she clearly didn’t care, using my own excrement as if some exotic massage oil. I suckled her milky breasts as she expertly took me to orgasm. I don’t think I’d ever experienced an orgasm like it. And what I had never realised up until that moment is that feeding upon a mother’s breast is the most beautiful way to ‘come down’ from an orgasm. It was so calming, so nurturing; I felt so loved and secure when I knew in reality that I didn't know these people and it was only a job Still, in that moment I was in heaven. “Okay babies, time to change those stinky nappies and then I have booked a private room for lunch. This has all been perfect - but it’s time to get down to business. I have a proposal for you, Baby Louise.

It's the time again. We're halfway through the month and no where near our fundraising goal. Please help push that meter if you can and want to help! https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/clients/donations/23-april-bills/

I'm Kristin. Been in a DD marriage since 2020. In the beginning me and my husband lightly broached power exchange relationship dynamics and mostly joked about Domestic Discipline. During the Pandemic, when we spent most of our time at home just the 2 of us, the jokes of Domestic Discipline turned into discussions, and then serious consideration of beginning a Domestic Discipline marriage. We ended up giving it a try and it works extraordinarily well for us. We optimistically hoped for benefits and the benefits are better than we thought they could be. I am Taken in Hand (submissive) and he is the Head of Household (the leader). Basically, my hubby, as the leader, has the final say on matters, has expectations for me, and ultimately if need be, I am disciplined when I am in the wrong. This works for us. I've been curious about diapers since I was about 16, haven't dabbled much at all in it. Just have mostly read about it online and seen videos. Husband is very understanding, which is great. He's never made me feel like a freak for my curiosity of ABDL. In fact, he's said he sees it as a powerful form of bondage which could be used for discipline. So, he def understands the Diaper Discipline concept LOL. For a long time we thought about started incorporating Diaper Discipline into our established Domestic Discipline but have always tabled it. We're heavily discussing it once more. Talking to some others on DD / Dom/Sub forums has made me feel Diaper Discipline in Power Exchange Relationships isn't such an insane, unheard of thing. It's something that couples do they just don't discuss it much. Just like how my husband and I don't discuss Domestic Discipline with friends and family. Even this site I've discovered recently (https://dd-guide.webflow.io/) is all about couples incorporating Diaper Discipline. They claim over 1,400 couples are on there who actively implement it. Is Domestic Discipline something that's accepted here? Are there other people on here in a marriage like mine? Anyone with experience using Diaper Discipline? Thanks for your time Kristin

Discuss with me anytime you like

Wish I could, but I can't even afford a pack of diapers without having to constantly visit goodwill or other thrift stores in search of them...

More than welcome...

Oh noes! I hope you get the new one done before the old one kicks off!

Epilogue Little in Love 2 – LittleFallenPrincess I sat in our conservatory, enjoying this cosy night in with Charlie, blanket wrapped around me, and a mug of hot chocolate in my hands which was keeping them nice and toasty. Charlie had fallen asleep during the movie on her own chair, snoring ever so softly like she does when she’s really content and comfortable. No longer did I have to get up stupidly early for work anymore. I had finally resigned and given up my seat now that the election was over. Landslide win again, by the way, as apparently littles weren’t put off by our previous party’s actions to vote for us again, or well… with this new party that Lorna Carter formed. So she’s no longer interim Prime Minister anymore, she’s actually the Prime Minister now. And so far… she’s not gone back on her word like her predecessor did. Speaking of him… he was thankfully jailed for his part in what happened to Charlie. And as for Chris… as punishment for his part in that crime, and to ensure safety for amazons… Chris was regressed, via hypnosis, and adopted, meaning that all plans of his device were now gone, meaning no one could recreate that evil thing and put anyone else at risk. I know I’m against regression, and the Little’s equality act now prevents non-consensual adoptions… but there was a clause for people who seriously break the law. And whilst I was discussing this clause with others, back when I was first drafting it, I was disgusted that I’d have to keep something like that in order to please the Amazons. But now… I was glad that I did. So now that my political career was over, little’s rights were enshrined in law, and everything was returning to normal… I got to enjoy this beautiful night sky through the conservatory roof with my wife. Well, she would enjoy it… if she hadn’t passed out during the movie. I’ll give her another hour or so and let her rest there, all snuggled up, as I finish the movie. We had no friends around, no commitments, not even Nessa was with us this weekend, instead it was just the two of us getting to have a romantic date night at home. Good food, good movies, the best company… What else could a girl ask for? …Except maybe a bedtime story if Charlie is feeling up to it… ----------------------- “You could have just left me in the conservatory and gone to bed, my love…” Charlie said to me as she carried me up the stairs, half asleep after I had woken her up so that we could go to bed. “Yes, but I can’t lift the side of the crib…” “You want to go in your crib tonight? How come?” She replied, yawning. “Just… feeling a bit… ickle…” “You are? So I assume you want a bedtime story?” She smiled down at me. “If you’re up for it…” “I don’t think it’s possible for me not to want to read you a bedtime story, baby girl. But it’ll have to be a short one, I’m already falling asleep again.” “Uh huh! You’ve been busy with your new book lately. You need to take some time off.” “Hun, you know how important it is. If I can get through to people in our country with my last book, I’m hoping to reach a wider audience with my next one. Maybe that could spark something in other countries… leading to something similar in those…” “Hopefully. But stop feeling like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders…” I could hear something outside, a gentle hum of the air as Charlie walked into the nursery and laid me down in my crib, sitting by my side on the edge of the mattress. It was so quiet out, especially with no neighbours nearby, which meant no cars… no people… nothing. The only thing you could hear is the gentle humming of… “Do you hear that?” Charlie asked, as she picked up a story book for her to read to me. “That’s just the air outside, no?” “M… maybe. Yeah, you’re probably right.” Charlie shrugged, smiling down at me. “My Bonnie lies over the ocean…” “That… that doesn’t sound like the wind…” Charlie whispered, sounding concerned. “Did you leave the TV on?” I asked her, hoping it was just a silly thing like that and not something… yeah... “No, I made sure to turn it off…” “My Bonnie lies over the sea…” “That… that’s not the wind. Nor is it the TV. Is someone outside?” I asked. “I think so. Baby, stay here…” Charlie said, standing up but keeping the crib side down so that I could escape if I needed to. “My Bonnie lies over the ocean…” “They’re in the house…” Charlie whispered, looking increasingly more worried. She was right, that song was now in our house… “That song… it’s so… enchanting… I… can’t… I… something feels off…” It was as if my whole body felt… not mine… it was so weird… “I…” Charlie struggled to concentrate, probably feeling the same thing I was feeling, as she hid to the side of the doorway, waiting for whoever had broken in to come for me. She grabbed the heaviest thing she could, which in a nursery… was difficult. But she managed to grab a heavy ornament that she had gotten me for my birthday. I just hoped she didn’t have to use it, I loved that little fairy decoration. “Ready baby?” She prepared herself, trying to shake off the fog infiltrating her brain, holding the ornament up high, readying herself to swing at whoever was invading our home. “Oh, bring back my Bonnie to meeee…” The intruder stood in the doorway, wearing a dark robe and a dark hat… and wait… “Rose?” I called out. “Hey, my lovelies! Good to see you!” She replied, bursting into the nursery with excitement in her voice, but looking up at me with a smile that I could tell was masking something. She does have the same face as Charlie… and so too does she share the same coping mechanisms, and it was clear she was trying to appear positive, but something serious must have happened if she’s trying this hard to mask it. “ROSE? WHAT THE HELL?” Charlie yelled at her as she put the ornament down and rushed her for a hug. “Sorry for intruding…” Rose apologised, adjusting her glasses after my wife had squeezed the life out of her. “What was that song…? I felt so… weird… hearing it…” I asked. “Oh! Sorry! I… I was lost in my own head for a while there, lots has been happening and familiar things help me concentrate. I forgot that it’ll have an effect on you… my bad!” “Your…?” I was quickly interrupted by our Witchy variation who we hadn’t seen in what seems like… forever! “Anyway, I was just wondering… are you busy? A lot has happened and I really didn’t want to bother you, not after you have all your own stuff to deal with. Especially with the whole election thing… but umm… Noelle and I could… umm… use your help…” “Of course! Anything for…” Rose sighed awkwardly and quickly interrupted me. “...In… in this war of ours…” ======================================================= So... it's over! Did you all enjoy it? I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it, especially the ending I gave because I was determined to give it this kind of ending. And yes, this is teasing the next... and final story of the LittleFallenVerse, Witch in Training II. ...For now at least. I do plan on coming back to this series eventually, but I've done 7 of the last 10 books set in this series, and I'd like to focus more on the monstrum series and other stories for a while. If I come up with a good story for the littlefallenverse in the future, I'll come back to this series, but once Witch in Training II is done, it'll be a while before I do. As for upcoming stories, just thought I'd update you all with the order I've got planned, which I've given to my subscribers. As of writing, the plan is: 1- 3rd Monstrum Story (This will start on Sunday 21st April, so this upcoming Sunday. Not giving away the title just yet, but look out for it usual time Sunday!) 2- Fantasy Story (This one is mostly planned out and isn't part of any series. Standalone fun story set in a fantasy world of elves and dwarves and stuff, but with some kink mixed in) 3- 4th Monstrum Story (Had a really good idea lately which kinda merged with an old idea I had for a while, so I'm super excited for this one) 4- Witch in Training II (Reason for this being left til here is because I still need to work on a lot of the plan for it, as its still in the early stages of planning) So I hope you continue to enjoy my stories as I keep posting them, and please keep commenting, comments and discussion really help keep me motivated to write! Seeing you all enjoy my stories so much makes me want to write more! Also wow... this is the tenth full length novel I've posted. and I'm very close to finishing the 11th and starting my 12th! -------------------------------------------- My new story just had it's fourth chapter on SubscribeStar, so expect it here next week (at least that's the current plan). Also thinking of opening up short story commissions now too finally, now that my writers block seems to have subsided. If you haven't seen, I'm now up and running on Subscribestar! (Sorry for the reminder again, trying to get my subscribers back after the Patreon rubbish!) ======================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! If you want to read the next 4 chapters, thanks to two weeks early access to my main story and also soon-to-be exclusive access to short stories (or even have a chance at commissioning one when I add the tier for them!), why don't you check out my SubscribeStar! The basic tier gets early access and exclusive access to short stories (when they're written), higher tiers will be limited but get a short story each month (1-2 per month in total, also not yet running this tier yet, will announce when I'm starting!). Thank you to all my patrons for their support over the past couple of years! Seriously, your support meant the world to me, and I hope to be set up somewhere new soon. New chapters of my latest story every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

I would imagine so. But there are other ABDL things that can be used for discipline, such as pacifiers, onesies/bodysuits, one piece pajamas, baby reins, and simply language.

I will try to help as soon as I can. My computer is dying, and I'm getting a new one built later this week. Hopefully it will work a little better.

Thanks to @AbabeBillfor donating $50 and to @Tai Kfor donating $20!

I have another diaper dream to enter into the annals: My wife and I were on vacation somewhere tropical, and a cruise ship was in port, and somehow, we got invited onto the cruise ship for a tour. We walked around the ship - it was quite lavish, almost baroque. I recall taking a moment to wet my diaper while we paused to view a Titanic-esque dining area replete with giant chandeliers. Then we got invited to use one of the pools, and we were given a quasi-public space to change in, it seemed like a coat check room, or something like that. Magically, I now had my bathing suit with me, and I stripped off my clothes and put on the swimsuit. I distinctly recall carefully un-taping one side of my diaper, sliding it down, and then folding the tabs in on their nonstick parking spots so that I could reuse the diaper later. I recall noting that it was now wet, and not looking forward to putting it back on, but, I didn't have any other options. I somewhat awkwardly tucked the diaper under my clothes and left them on the floor in a corner, and then we went down to the pool. The diaper was an unidentified white plastic one with tapes - if I had to say what it was, I would go with a MegaMax or a BeDry. We were sitting around the pool when we suddenly realized that the ship was moving, so I went over to a crew member and asked what was going on. He said that it was too windy to stay close to shore, so they were headed out to sea. I said, so, are you docking anywhere else around here? And he said, no, we'll be at sea at least for a day or two before our next port of call. I panicked - we were leaving our hotel room, bags, everything behind, we didn't have a room on the ship, and, I only had ONE already-wet diaper with me. The conclusion was that we were going to be allowed to sleep in that coat check room - kind of them - but that I was going to have to go down to the shopping area on the ship and see if anyone sold anything approaching diapers. I recall thinking, but deciding not to say out loud to my wife, that I might have to buy the largest baby diapers they sold, and then use them as stuffers, and wear the diaper I had on for the next 48 hours or so, and thinking that I should be careful with the tapes. And that buying diapers in a cruise ship gift shop was going to be expensive, if they even had them. (In real life I know that giant cruise ships have expansive [and expensive] shopping areas and would at least carry baby diapers, and probably also adult pull-ups, but in my dream I was thinking I'd be looking for a dusty old bag of Pampers parked next to the sunblock on a small shelf in a store that primarily sold t-shirts). I was very distressed about being on a cruise with one outfit and one diaper and only a coat closet for accommodations, and that's when I woke up to find myself very happy to be in my own bed - and, in a wet diaper (a BeDry Night - still in it). I had evidently peed during the dream.

I have a closet full of diapers i dont wear anymore (just took this small pic for now) all are discontinued and out of print i will exchange for diapers i need for my collection or i might sell but shipping outside Canada is crazy but then so is shipping in Canada Let me know if there is any that interest you MyDiaper Yellow MyDiaper Blue MyDiaper Candycolor DC Amour Rearz lil Squirts first run single tape Play Dayz Cloth Backed

And that's how it is now for me. Whilst not incontinent, if you ask me not to pee for anything more than an hour or so, that's liable to provoke catastrophic failure. I can be "continent" but I need a clear path to a toilet and zero delays. I truly wonder if we would EVER become incontinent by doing what we do (although dripping-on-sneeze the other day was something new). Having said that, if we were assessed by how able we were to stay dry under daily life challenges, would a practitioner consider us functionally incontinent (or heading towards such a state)? Be happy it wasn't a catastrophic blow-out. I've worn THAT t-shirt. All things being equal, I have full control. Throw variables such a too much of the wrong food into the mix and accidents may well happen now.

Yeah, I don't know too much about the inner workings of the old site, but it seemed like the behind-the-scenes management was all over the place, but seemed to fumble at every instance where direct preventative action was needed. Like, with some of the shadier things that evidently got posted, you'd think it would be better if the moderation team took a 'better safe than sorry' approach, where they risked alienating a few potentially problematic users rather than put the whole site in a precarious position.

Intro Evelyn, a middle-aged history professor at the local college, found solace in the routine of her early morning and late nights spent on the balcony of her cozy apartment. Perched on a comfortable chair, she would watch the world pass by, lost in her thoughts. The balcony offered a front-row seat to the daily comings and goings of college students, who unknowingly became characters in the silent play that unfolded before her. Despite her engaging lectures and dynamic teaching style, Evelyn often felt an overwhelming sense of solitude. Her unconventional schedule, with most classes held in the evening, left her with free mornings and afternoons. The balcony became her haven, a place where she could reflect on the pages of history and, more intimately, on the chapters of her own life. One particular ritual, hidden from the eyes of her colleagues and students, unfolded on those quiet afternoons. Evelyn would find herself drawn to the comfort of an old habit — sucking her thumb. It was a habit she often enjoyed, especially when watching young love unfold from her balcony; something she greatly regretted not having. As Evelyn sat on her balcony, thumb often creeping into her mouth, she observed the ebb and flow of college life beneath her. The students, backpacks slung over their shoulders, chatted animatedly as they walked past her apartment building. Some were engrossed in their smartphones, while others eagerly discussed the day's lectures and upcoming exams. Unbeknownst to Evelyn, the students were aware of her discreet balcony retreat. In many ways the balcony has become a living attraction to bypassing students over the years; no one went out of their way for it, but no one regregretted strolling past. [There was an unspoken agreement to respect the privacy of their history professor, a woman who held the key to unlocking the mysteries of the past but guarded her own secrets with equal diligence.] Evelyn, absorbed in her historical musings and thumb-sucking reverie, believed herself to be invisible to the world below. She found comfort in the anonymity of her perch, where she could be both a spectator and a participant in the theater of daily life. One day, as the students passed by her balcony as usual, something unexpected happened. A brave soul among them, a young woman named Sarah, decided to break the unspoken barrier. She smiled warmly at Evelyn and nodded in acknowledgment. As the days went by, Sarah made other distant gestures to Evelyn, such as small waves and momentarily inserting her own thumb into her mouth, as if playfully asking a child, "Do you need to suck your thumb?" Despite these subtle attempts at connection, Evelyn remained reserved. Evelyn continued her balcony rituals, she found a new sense of camaraderie with this unknown (to her) student. The unspoken understanding between them deepened, and the balcony became a symbol of connection, bridging the gap between professor and student in a way that transcended the formalities of the classroom. And so, history continued to unfold, both in the lectures within the college walls and in the quiet moments on Evelyn's balcony. Chapter I Lisa: Hey, Sarah! How was your day? Sarah: Oh, you know, the usual. But something interesting happened today. You know the professor who sits on the balcony and sucks her thumb? Lisa: Professor Evelyn? Yeah, I've seen her. She seems so lost and lonely up there; often sucking her thumb, thinking the world doesn't know her secret. Sarah: Well, I've been trying to break the ice, you know? Like playful waves and pretending to suck my thumb too. Just trying to make her smile. Lisa: That's sweet of you, babe. But why? What made you decide to do that? Sarah: I don't know, Lisa. There's something about her that just tugs at my heart. I see her up there all alone, and I can't help but feel like she needs a friend. Lisa: You think we should be her friends? She seems more ? Sarah: Yeah, that's what I was thinking. She's so cute and childlike. It got me thinking... What if we could be more than just her friends? Lisa: You mean, like, adopt her into our lives? Sarah: Exactly. I mean, she's alone up there, and I can't shake off this feeling that she needs something more stable. We could be that stability for her. Lisa: That's a big step, Sarah. But, you know, I've been feeling the same way. She's become a part of our thoughts and conversations. Sarah: I know it's huge, but I can't stand the thought of her being alone. I want to make her a part of our unconventional family. Lisa: Let's take it slow, then. Maybe we can start by getting to know her better. You said you're in her history class, right? Why don't you try talking to her? Sarah: Yeah, I am. I'll give it a shot, but we need to be careful. We don't want to overwhelm her. Lisa: Absolutely. We'll take it step by step. If she's comfortable with it, maybe she could join us for coffee or something. Sarah: Perfect. Let's see where this goes. I really think we could make a difference in her life. As Sarah and Lisa discuss the possibility of "adopting" Professor Evelyn into their lives, the balcony stands as a silent witness to their evolving plan. The dialogues reflect the mix of compassion, care, and the desire to bring a sense of family to someone who seems to need it. Chapter II Evelyn, engrossed in her historical research and the quiet moments of reflection on the balcony, remained blissfully unaware that Sarah was one of her own students. The campus was vast, and the lecture halls were filled with faces, making it easy for a single student to blend into the crowd. Sarah, who often chose a seat in the back of the class, had mastered the art of anonymity. One day, as Evelyn, who was often engrossed in her lecture notes, looked up at her Intro to World History students and noticed Sarah. A mix of emotions swept over Evelyn—surprise, curiosity, and a touch of embarrassment that she hadn't recognized her only balcony companion as a student. The realization added a new layer to their interactions. Evelyn pondered whether Sarah had intentionally chosen to sit in the back of the class, maintaining a discreet distance between the formal academic setting and their informal balcony connection. Despite the revelation, Evelyn decided to let the connection evolve organically, choosing not to confront Sarah about their shared secret. However, she began to notice Sarah playfully sucking her thumb during lectures, making sure that Professor Evelyn noticed her playfulness. The following evening, Evelyn approached the lecture hall with a newfound awareness. As she began her class, she noticed Sarah sitting in her usual spot at the back, a knowing smile playing on her lips. The other students, oblivious to the connection between their professor and their classmate, immersed themselves in the lesson. After the lecture, as students filed out of the hall, Sarah lingered for a moment. With a subtle nod and a twinkle in her eye, she acknowledged the unspoken understanding between them. Evelyn reciprocated with a grateful smile, silently appreciating the delicate balance they had struck between the formalities of academia and the genuine connection that had formed on the balcony. As the semester progressed, Evelyn and Sarah continued their silent interactions, weaving a unique tapestry of connection that transcended the traditional roles of teacher and student. The balcony, once a place of solitude, had become a bridge between two lives—a place where history unfolded not only in the pages of textbooks but also in the quiet moments shared between a professor and a student. Chapter III Sarah's after-class visits became a cherished ritual, adding a new dimension to the connection she shared with Evelyn. While other students hurriedly packed their bags and left, Sarah lingered, patiently waiting for her turn to approach the professor. "Professor," she would begin, maintaining the formal address that characterized their interactions; though her quiet motherly voice made Evelyn feel as though the roles were switched. Her questions were a clever mix of academic curiosity and a genuine desire to know Evelyn on a more personal level. Sometimes, her questions dived into the intricacies of the day's lecture, showcasing Sarah's dedication to the subject matter. Other times, the questions subtly steered toward understanding the woman behind the professorial facade. Evelyn, in turn, welcomed these post-lecture conversations. Sarah's inquiries provided a bridge between the structured world of academia and the uncharted territory of personal connection. Evelyn found herself opening up, sharing anecdotes from her own academic journey, and offering insights that transcended the confines of the classroom. As the weeks unfolded, Sarah's questions became more personal, yet she maintained a respectful distance. She never overstepped boundaries or pressed too far into Evelyn's private life. The discussions, although occasionally veering into the realm of personal experiences, remained grounded in the shared love for history and the pursuit of knowledge. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and cast a warm glow on the balcony, Sarah hesitated before asking a question. "Professor, I was wondering," she began, "what inspired you to become a historian?" The question opened a door to Evelyn's past, and she shared stories of mentors who had shaped her journey, pivotal moments that ignited her passion, and the challenges she had overcome. Chapter IV One Sunday evening, Evelyn decided to treat herself, and go out to the local bar, for a night cap instead of her usual at home alone time. While seated at the bar, alone, she suddenly noticed Sarah seated next to her. After exchanging pleasantries, Sarah offered Evelyn to join her and her friends for a night on the town. Being substantially older, and wanting to go home Evelyn deeply hesitated; however, after some persistent nagging by Sarah, Evelyn obliged and join Sarah and her friends. The evening started with the promise of a casual and enjoyable time, but as the drinks flowed, Evelyn lost touch with the limits she had unknowingly set for herself. The laughter and shared stories became a blur, and the once-composed professor found herself caught in the grip of intoxication. As the night wore on, Evelyn's words began to slur, and her movements became unsteady. Unaware of the extent of her inebriation, she continued to share anecdotes and insights, but the clarity that usually defined her words was replaced by a haze of alcohol-induced fuzziness. Sarah, watching the gradual transformation in her professor's demeanor, became increasingly concerned. Like a frog in slowly boiling water, Evelyn seemed oblivious to the changes in her own behavior. The warmth of the evening, and the warmth in her pants, had given way to a more somber atmosphere as Sarah recognized the signs of excess. As the night approached its end, Sarah made a decision fueled by genuine concern for her teacher. Rather than leaving as originally planned, she offered, "Evelyn, I think it's best if I stay the night. Just to make sure you're okay by morning." Evelyn, caught in the haze of alcohol, managed a nod, as her thumb glided into her mouth, her usual composed demeanor now replaced by a vulnerable state. Sarah took charge, guiding Evelyn to her apartment with a supportive arm around her shoulders. Once inside, Sarah ensured Evelyn was comfortable and settled before quietly going about making the necessary arrangements for an unexpected overnight stay. Throughout the night, Sarah kept a watchful eye on Evelyn, periodically checking in to ensure she was safe and comfortable. The balcony, witness to so many shared moments, now stood silent as the night unfolded. In the quiet hours, Sarah reflected on the evolving dynamics of their relationship and the responsibility that came with genuine concern for another person. When the first few students passed by the balcony, Sarah decided it was best to leave before anyone noticed her up on the professor's balcony. Evelyn was still deep in her slumber not fully awake from the night before. Chapter V The following week, Evelyn, haunted by the memory of the pub incident, decided to take the initiative and invited Sarah to meet for coffee at a quiet and public place. The atmosphere was tense as they settled into a corner of the coffee shop, surrounded by the hum of conversation and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee. "Sarah, I wanted to apologize for that night at the pub," she began, her voice carrying a mix of remorse and embarrassment. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone on a drinking binge; let alone with a group of students…” Sarah, understanding the sincerity in Evelyn's apology, nodded in acknowledgment. "No need to apologize, Evelyn. We all have our moments. Let's just move past it," she reassured. However, as the conversation shifted, Sarah pulled out her phone,“stumbled upon images of the night before, as the two searched for an old message Evelyn had once sent Sarah… Evelyn's eyes widened in horror as Sarah showed her the images and later videos of night.. There, on the small screen, was a selfie of Evelyn, thumb in her mouth, seated on Sarah's lap at the pub . Another video revealed Evelyn giving an non-understandable speech, as a dark spot slowly grew around her groin. Evelyn's face turned several shades of red as embarrassment washed over her. "Sarah, I... I had no idea," she stammered, feeling a mix of humiliation and regret. Sarah, however, surprised Evelyn by laughing gently. "Don't worry, Evelyn. I promise not to use these pictures against you. When we had reached home, I had helped you take a shower and washed your clothes. As I walked home, before you had woken, or students walking towards their morning classes, I kept thinking how cute and vulnerable you were that night. It was as if something inside you finally opened up”. Caught off guard, Evelyn hesitated, unsure of how to respond. Sarah continued, "Actually, you look so adorable in these videos. Do you mind if I keep them? I promise, it's just for our private memories." Too embarrassed to even say anything, Evelyn stood up and left the coffee shop. Too shocked and shaken to even fully comprehend Sarah had said. Chapter VI Evelyn attempted to avoid Sarah at all costs, like a child she hid behind the curtains of her balcony in hopes that Sarah would not see her. She found a very nice teaching assistant to replace her for a few weeks in class, but eventually, Evelyn couldn't not go back to teaching. Sarah on the other hand, tried to reach out to Evelyn, trying to explain herself and make sure she’s ok. However, a few days before final exams, on the final day of classes, Evelyn had no choice but to resume her teaching. Throughout the lecture, Evelyn kept looking up at Sarah, who for her part pretended to be listening to the lecture, but in reality was planning her next step. When Evelyn finally finished her lecture, and asked whether anyone have questions regarding the final, Sarah raised her; Evelyn made the mistake of calling Sarah before calling anyone else. Sarah, standing up, asked - “Professor Evelyn, history is filled with secrets, can you show everyone your biggest secret?”, as if on queue, Evelyn began sucking her thumb. It was unclear to Evelyn what happened the next few minutes, but she somehow found herself, in the back of Sarahs’ car, wearing only a pull-up and her thumb in her mouth. Chapter VII Like a small child holding her mommy’s hand, Evelyn walked a pace behind Sarah towards the door. As the two reached Sarah’s apartment, the door suddenly opened by a woman, who was slightly older than Sarah, but clearly much younger than Evelyn. The woman introduced herself to Evelyn as though she was talking to a preschooler; offering Evelyn to sit on the floor and play with the plush toys laying around. Next thing Evelyn knew she was seated on the floor, staring up at the two young women, who could easily have been her own daughters, had she decided to get married and have a family. Sarah and her lover explained their plan. Evelyn was to be their baby, and both women would be called "mommy." The shock deepened as Evelyn, still constantly sucking her thumb, struggled to process the information. "I... I don't understand. Why? How?" Evelyn stammered, her voice a mixture of confusion and disbelief. Sarah's lover, whose name remained a mystery, spoke gently, "We've seen you sucking your thumb on the balcony every morning as we walked towards campus. I then saw your videos from the pub, and think the loss of control is simply because of too much control and maybe starting over is what you need. What you seem to want…” Chapter VIII In the quiet darkness of the nursery, Evelyn lay in her toddler bed, surrounded by the soft hues of pastel colors and the comforting presence of plush toys. As she drifted closer to sleep, her mind swirled with a cascade of thoughts and reflections. The weight of the revelation bore down on Evelyn's mind. Years as a professor, yet it took two students, Sarah and her lover, to unravel the depths of her secrets. The dichotomy between her public persona as an educator and the vulnerability she now embraced in the nursery left her contemplative. Evelyn wondered how the carefully constructed walls around her personal life had crumbled in the face of these two determined students. What was it about her habits, her idiosyncrasies, that had been so transparent to them? The balcony, once a sanctuary of solitude, now seemed like an inadvertent stage where her private rituals were unwittingly exposed. In the dim light of the nursery, Evelyn couldn't shake the astonishment that these two women had not only uncovered her secrets but had actively taken steps to provide for her needs, albeit in an unconventional way. The complexity of the situation left her in a state of vulnerability, wrapped in a strange sense of care and intimacy that defied the traditional roles she had known for so long. As sleep finally claimed her, Evelyn's thoughts lingered on the mystery of connection—how these two students had seen beyond the professor and discovered the layers that lay beneath. The nursery, once a symbol of surprise and uncertainty, became a cocoon where Evelyn could rest, suspended between the past and an unforeseen future, her mind echoing with the enigma of newfound connections that transcended the boundaries of academia. Chapter IX When Sarah woke Evelyn up the next day, Evelyn found Sarah's lover making Evelyn's favorite breakfast. Evelyn sat at the table, as a bib was put on her and kids utensils (fork only) were provided Sarah's lover gave Evelyn a pre-cut plate and a sippy-cup with OJ. As Evelyn tried to feed herself, but really was being fed by Sarah, Sarah’s lover began to explain their plan… For the next 4 weeks, they'll treat Evelyn at a different age. AAt the end of the 4 weeks Evelyn will decide the desired age; then once a year Evelyn will decide if she wants to grow up, grow down or stay the same. Week 1 - 2 yr old Week 2 - 3 yr old Week 3 - 4 yr old Week 4 - 5 yr old Evelyn agreed, and so after breakfast Lisa took Evelyn to get dressed. As Lisa dressed Evelyn, she explained what life at each age would be like. Evelyn sat motionless as mommy Lisa, dressed her and talked. Explaining that while clothing and toys would change for each age, the use of diapers or pull-ups would not, nor would the ability to inform a grown-up when she had used her diaper. For her final touch, Lisa put a nice big bow , and a pacifier attached to her shirt. About an hour later, Sarah came out of their office and announced they're going on a walk. like a good mother and to Evelyn's surprise Sarah put Evelyn in a stroller. When Evelyn tried to protest, Lisa pushed the pacifier attached to Evelyn’s shirt in her mouth as Sarah pushed her out of the house. After about an hour’s walk, Evelyn was brought back home for a nap and some playtime, before being bathed and put to bed. Her days were suddenly all the same, sometimes their walks would end up in a playground, where Evelyn was expected to play with kids in her “age” group. Slowly, Evelyn was finally feeling happy, there was nothing humiliating or sexual about the behaviors of Lisa and Sarah towards her; they simply wanted to fulfill her unspoken dreams. Chapter X Towards the end of month, Evelyn was already being treated like a 5 year-old who wears pull-ups, something odd happened… Instead of being dressed like a “big kid”, Lisa put her in a diaper. Confused, Evelyn asked “Mommy, why am I dressed like a baby?”, to which Lisa replied “it’s a surprise…”. As breakfast Sarah began feeding Evelyn her breakfast, Evelyn asked “Mommy, why are you and mommy treating me like a baby again?”. Like Lisa, Sarah replied “it’s a surprise…” When breakfast was finished, Sarah put Evelyn in her playpen, and disappeared into the bedrooms. A few minutes later, Lisa and Sarah reappeared with 2 suitcases, Evelyn’s diaper bag. Their mysterious adventure began at the airport, where Evelyn, although having her own seat, spent the entire flight sitting on either Lisa or Sarah's lap. When the three reached their hotel room, Evelyn was put to bed for an early nap; after which she was put in a baby pastel dress, a diaper, and a pacifier clipped to her dress. After dressing themselves and Evelyn, the three women embarked towards an unknown for Evelyn but a clear destination for her mommies. After about a 15-minute stroll, they arrived at a really nice restaurant. To Evelyn's surprise, they were meeting Lisa's parents, who greeted her with the warmth one would reserve for a 2-year-old. The woman, who Lisa called mom, seemed vaguely familiar to Evelyn, though it was clear to her that they were both younger than her. Throughout dinner, the "adults" engaged in conversation, seemingly oblivious to Evelyn's presence. In this adult-oriented restaurant, one without a kids menu, Sarah and Lisa had come prepared, bringing baby food and a bottle for Evelyn. As the adults waited for their dessert, Lisa’s mom, who by now Evelyn had learned was named Tina, took Evelyn to sit on her lap. Acting fussy, Tina took Evelyn's clipped pacifier and inserted it into Evelyn’s mouth; as she recollected how the roles have changed. According to her story, Tina and Evelyn not only went to the same college. In fact, Evelyn was best friend’s with Tina’s big sister; and while never a part of the sorority, she often had the chance to haze Tina – forcing her to suck her thumb or a pacifier. Oftentimes Evely had a pacifier waiting for when Tina showed up with her “older sister”. She had finished the story with “oh how the tables have turned”... The next day, they went to another restaurant, this one more "child-friendly". This time meeting not only Sarah’s parents, also her slightly older sister and 2-year-old nephew, as well as Sarah’s 10-year-old brother. From the moment they arrived at lunch, it became clear to Evelyn she was the “baby” of the group. Her new “nephew” was wearing pull-ups, not diapers and was no longer using a pacifier during the day; while the 10-year-old was clearly treated much more as an adult as she has in the past month. As the adults waited for their food something inexplicable happened to Evelyn. She found herself lying on her aunty’s lap, being breastfed as if she were nothing more than an infant. By the time food arrived, Evelyn was already back in her stroller, sucking her pacifier and watching baby-ish videos on her mommy’s iPad. As the video played inches from her face, Evelyn had an internal conflict. On the one hand, she was enjoying the idea of being treated as she was. Having her deepest secrets and darkest secrets, even ones she didn’t understand how her mommies knew of, fulfilled. On the other hand, she understood that if she stays this way any longer she’ll never be an adult again. Even now, she wasn’t sure if she was still potty trained or not. Chapter XI Coming back to reality, Sarah, Lisa and Evelyn understood that they’d be better off financially if Professor Evelyn would go back to teaching. However, having your “mommy” walk you to class as you suck on a pacifier or thumb decreases your authoritarianism in the classroom. Worse off was “Professor Evelyn” when she’d mess herself, and begin to cry while giving a lecture on the timeline of events the class will cover during her third class. It had reached a point so bad that Evelyn’s boss called her into her office. Arriving with her two mommies, and sucking her pacifier, Evelyn arrived at her boss's office. As Evelyn sat on Sarah's lap, the dean listened to Lisa as she explained the state of Evelyn. Instead of firing Evelyn, the dean provided an unique proposal…. Evelyn would continue to receive her pay, but she would no longer be required to teach. In return, the dean requested that they collaborate on writing academic papers that explored Evelyn's regression and the process of her re-aging, with the goal of returning to a 5-year-old state by the time Sarah graduated in three years. Lisa and Sarah agreed, with the condition of legally declaring Evelyn as a child; which the dean was more than happy to help with. And so… Evelyn was declared a 2-year-old, Sarah became a psychology major and Lisa a childhood education major, both trying to reteach the ever so resistant Evelyn to slowly grow-up.

I always wondered about Amazons coming over to our demension. Although I'd prefer them keeping their size. They'd stay in sized up accommodations but are still forced to embarrassingly squeeze through Little sized doors. As a showing of dominance from our side.

@Baby Billy @Moon3ye For the sake of the story, let's leave politics out of this thread please? 💜

See, I'm the angel! 😇 Sorry, definitely going to be a while before I get back to multiple chapters a week at this rate. Having serious problems getting into writer mode. (Just paid taxes, maybe once my feeling of dread from that goes away I'll feel better... Uncle Sam was greedy this year...)

Now I have an image of the HoloNannies lying on the changing tables with Carly standing on the tables putting crawler diapers on them.. “Let’s see how YOU like it .. mwhaahaahaahaa”

😇 I don't know what you're talking about... [attempts to run and write more torture...]

Because I have been passionately reading your stories for 4 years now and I know that you are mean and love to torture your readers.

Chapter 108: General Gao’s BETH TEXTED ME the following morning and said she was skipping breakfast to take care of an errand with Reila, so I sat down with Amy, Mia, and Willow. “Not with your girlfriend today?” Mia asked curiously. I didn’t even bother correcting her, “She had something to do.” I munched on one of the giant pieces of bacon right then, swallowing and asking, “Did you three want to go shopping on Saturday?” “I thought you said it was a bad idea?” Amy said. I nodded, “It would have been by yourselves. We’ll have Beth, Reila, probably Livy, and also Beth’s bodyguard with us?” “That’s a large group?” Willow asked. “That’s kind of hard to move around with?” I shrugged, “If you want to get adopted, go with a smaller group. If you just want to shop and get a chance to see more than the university grounds, that’ll be the safest way?” “How do you get to go off-campus so much?” Zoey, another member of our new nest, asked. “My grandmother?” I told her. “Who is she?” “Amanda Westerfield?” I answered. “That is?” She asked, “I’m not from Ames?” she added with the gasps from a couple of her friends added to the sounds around us. I smiled, “You know the new student union building? Westerfield Hall?” She nodded, “Your grandparents gave the money for it?” “I don’t know if they contributed, but it was named in honor of my grandmother. She’s a big deal in AI and nanite technology advances here. She won the Bremer Prize recently?” Her eyes finally signaled some recognition, “So she’s like really smart?” I giggled, “You could say that.” By the end of breakfast, I planned to meet my friends and get picked up by my grandmother and Nikki. I walked with some friends toward the Matisse Center. I soon sat in Screenwriting class, where all our animated scripts were due. We also went over our next assignment, which would be the next Narratives project. “Okay, for this next assignment, I’m going to not just give you the medium of the film, but we’re also going to have everyone focus on the same thematic idea. This film is to be between fifteen and twenty minutes long and should focus on the theme of betrayal.” “That’s all?” Mason, one of our studio members, asked. “Nothing more specific?” Professor Gibney shook his head, “I don’t want to dictate the project for you. I will say it could be a betrayal of love, country, pet, or any other kind of betrayal you can think of?” As we left class, I was already thinking of some ideas. Right then, I also realized that my diaper was undoubtedly getting close to needing a change. I had zero plans to go to one of the HoloNannies, though! I decided to hang out near Beth’s class again and work on my script ideas. By the time her class ended an hour later, I already had three good ideas and ten pages written for each! “Hey,” she said when she saw me. “Hi, Beth,” I told her with a smile, then went up to her and embraced her. She picked me up and discreetly felt my bottom, “Didn’t feel like using the HoloNannies to change?” I made a face that she and Nikki both laughed at. “Would you mind?” I asked sheepishly. She laughed, “If I have to! It’s just wet, right?” I blushed deeper but nodded. Soon, changed out of the diaper and into a fresh one; we headed for the student union and hit one of the pizza places. She ordered two ‘big’ slices and gave me half of one to eat. “You know, this half of a slice is still like half a pizza back home!” She shook her head, “I really would love to see what your proportions look like to me?” “I wonder what would even happen if you went over?” She shrugged, “I know there are Mids and Bigs who have gone over to work with companies in the past?” “Wait, really?” She nodded, “There is a company called Diamond Tours that has become kind of notorious for luring new Littles here?” She took a bite, chewed, and swallowed, “Supposedly, their entire office on the other side is made up of Bigs?” “Actually, I think that’s the company my mom and grandparents used to come here. How do we not know this about their staff, though?” She shrugged, “I’ve only heard bits and pieces through Mom and Dad, but I guess the portal either automatically shrinks them to being just in the tall category there, or they manipulate people themselves?” “So what’s the racket? Convince people to come over, immediately adopt them?” She shrugged, “Obviously, they don’t claim everyone if your mom and her parents made it back?” I nodded, “Then there are idiots like my exchange group?” She nodded, “You’ve already had several adopted.” “Including one of our professors,” I shook my head and took a few more bites. “It was all worth it, though, to meet you,” I said with a smile. She smiled back, “I’m glad you came too!” “Say…” I said nervously, “I had a thought about tomorrow. Before Grandma takes us home, would you be open to going out to dinner and a movie?” She smiled, “Carly Slane, are you asking me out on a date?” I smiled back, “Uh-huh?” “Where are we eating…?” The two of us discussed the ideas Shelby had helped me with, and she agreed to the plan before we went to sneak in some editing time before our class. We got three more scenes edited before our Narratives class began. BETH SAT IN their Narratives class beside Carly and Charlotte, watching as the professor talked about some different depth-of-field effects you could accomplish either during filming or in your post-production edits. The images projected did look really cool, but she felt most of the techniques were above her. A look at Carly showed her intense concentration and a smile, though. ‘She’s such a nerd sometimes!’ she giggled to herself. Professor Wyler lectured and demonstrated the technology for the first thirty minutes of class before saying, “I want to give you all some time to work on your projects as a group since I know many of you are having trouble scheduling time you can meet. This’ll give you at least an extra couple of hours, which I hope will help those struggling groups.” Beth smiled. With the rhythm Carly and she had been getting into, they could make much more progress that afternoon than they had planned! “Before we go, I want to offer everyone one more challenge you must complete by class on Tuesday.” Beth noticed most of the groups stop from the moving they’d just begun; several seemed almost desperate then. “So, the project is to create a studio logo splash clip for the beginning of your films. I will have a few faculty members select their preference and award the top group two million credits, second place, one million, third, seven-fifty, and fourth; as long as you complete it, you will get four hundred thousand. The splash screens should last between five and twenty seconds long. The cooler and more relevant, the better!” There was some excited chatter around the room and some questions before he dismissed everyone. “How is the editing coming?” Charlotte asked her and Carly. “Pretty good?” Carly said. We’re starting to wrap up Act One in our first edit. Beth and I have a pretty good rhythm going and were flying earlier. I think we can get another eight hours in right now and hopefully finish by tomorrow afternoon. Otherwise, we might come in on Saturday.” “Sounds like a plan,” Charlotte said. “Don’t feel like you have to kill yourselves though. We could get some work done on Monday and Tuesday. I’ve already reserved the student who will compose the music for the film.” “Cool,” Beth said. “What about this project?” “We’ll work on it with Ethan, Sophie, and Will,” Charlotte said. “While Carly would be good at this, I want you guys just to focus on the edit?” Beth nodded, “Okay.” “Let me know when you get done. If it’s by Monday, we might schedule a viewing of the rough with everyone.” “Okay,” Carly said. “Come on, Beth, let’s get to work…” She jumped off the chair and pulled her backpack over her shoulders. “Such a taskmaster!” Beth kidded Carly. Carly giggled in response, and they made their way to the editing studio. Nikki checked the room first and then stationed herself to watch over them. “Why don’t I order some food to be delivered?” Beth suggested. “That way, we won’t have to worry about you skipping dinner.” “Sounds great!” Carly told her. “What do you want?” Carly shrugged, “Not pizza? I could maybe go for something like General Tso’s chicken?” “Huh?” Carly looked thoughtful, “Wait, Mom said it’s called General Gao’s here?” Beth nervously nodded. Nikki spoke up, though, “Are you sure you want that? That’s really spicy?” Beth and Carly both laughed, “She probably does,” Beth said. “This one has a crazy spice tolerance. She actually won a back-to-school contest a few weeks ago. You want something, too?” She asked the bodyguard, who had been practically blending into the wall until then. “Sure…” One thing Beth had always appreciated about the local Chinese food place she ordered from was that they would come to find you in a building you were working on. So it was that Carly continued working on editing, even as they took delivery of their food. They’d just made it to the scene in the playroom the day of ‘Bree’s adoption.’ “Why don’t we stop and eat, then we’ll keep going?” Beth suggested. Carly shrugged, and they all gathered around a table on the back side of the room to split up the order. She shook her head at Nikki, watching Carly eat the first bite. She was pretty good about not being a mommy type herself, but you could see she was already planning how to rescue the crazy Little! Carly seemed to have sensed it as she smiled and enjoyed the first bite. “You really can eat that?” Nikki asked. “It’s delicious!” Carly told her. “You want a piece?” Nikki clearly couldn’t believe it was the regular dish, so she used her own chopsticks to take a piece of the meat and placed it in her mouth. She chewed before rapidly chugging some of her drink! “That’s not spicy?” She asked in disbelief! As if to prove a point, Carly grabbed one of the peppers and bit about half of it off into her mouth. “These are great! But really, I’d rate them maybe a mild poblano or jalapeno back home?” She shrugged and kept eating. “She really is an alien…” Nikki muttered, and the three of them laughed! After watching Carly scarf down food that should have been impossible to eat, she watched her switch back to editing and gradually move faster and faster. They did have to stop and enjoy the improv footage from the tea party, though! They were just getting ready to splice some clips together when a knock came on the door, and it opened. I TURNED AND found Charlotte and Sebastian at the door. “Hey guys,” I said, “What’s up?” “Just wanted to see how you two are getting on?” Charlotte asked. “Pretty good,” I told her. “Just about to finish the tea party scene?” They both chuckled, “I wish we could include the original,” Sebastian said. “Be careful with that one, though. I don’t think you violated any of your stupid Little’s rules, but it’s close to the line?” I nodded, “I actually scrubbed the audio from the original files on the system already.” I didn’t tell them I kept a copy in a strongly encrypted file on a personal storage device, though! ‘I know that no one will ever access it who I don’t to, though!’ “So, when do you think you’ll be able to finish this rough cut?” Charlotte asked. I shrugged and looked at the time, “We’ve got about ten more scenes to go; I’m hoping by the time I have to leave to go to the nest, we can be down to two or three left?” “That’s fast; you’re being careful with the cuts?” Sebastian asked. “She is,” Beth said for me. “The parts already look like a finished product to me. She keeps saying there are more things to do, but I sure can’t tell?” I shrugged, “I want to play with the transition effects some more for timing. Some of that, though, doesn’t make sense to get too nit-picky until we have the soundtrack. We also need to add sound effects to some scenes. I’ll work on that early next week, though.” “It sounds like you two have it in hand. Can you let us know when it’s done?” Charlotte asked. “Sure! Why don’t we plan to meet with anyone who wants to see the rough cut around 20 o’clock on Monday?” I said. “Bring your own pizza?” “Sure, we should be able to access one of the small viewing theaters, too,” Sebastian said. “Have a good weekend,” he said, pulling Charlotte from the room and letting us return to the editing. “Think they don’t trust us?” I asked once the door was closed. “No, they definitely do!” Beth said, “I think it’s more the helpless feeling of this part being out of their hands?” “Well, you can’t exactly have a full group working on this part?” I responded. “No, and I think that letting go is tough sometimes,” she smiled beside me. “I can kind of understand? You’re pretty much doing the whole thing right now.” I blushed, “Sorry?” “It’s your major; you should be the one doing it!” I continued working as quickly but carefully as possible. I hated seeing my original self in the early cuts, but I couldn’t help but smile anytime there was a close-up of my new face. I loved the hairstyles they’d used, and the outfits were cute—if only they weren’t as infantile! I couldn’t help but love my new self a lot more, though! The editing passed with a series of steps for each set of shots. Step one was using Beth’s notes to determine which take was the best. She had done a great job, and I couldn’t disagree with her choices on the Edit Decision List she drew up. With the editing software, it was a quick press of options to have all of the camera shots from that take available to quickly glance through the script and see what looked good for a selection. I would alternate close-ups, medium shots, and wide shots depending on what made sense to tell the story. Each time I did a close-up of Beth, I also felt butterflies in my stomach. Charlotte was a professionally fun actress in all of her shots. She was so talented! Little things like a raise of her eyebrow, a slight turn up of her lips, or tensing of her body told the story so well in anything she did! You could take the audio out of the clip and still be able to read what she was saying and doing! That really applied to most of the cast, though! Ava was the one exception. She really struggled to act the part of the daycare owner believably. I could see why Beth had so much footage of the time in the daycare playing because it took multiple takes to get a scene good enough for her. Even then, I found myself using some creative shots and cuts to use her voice and avoid her facial expressions, which tended to be rather dull or unrealistic. I hated the subject matter of the film, but there was a sense of pride in my being as I completed each part of it. It probably helped that even though I enjoyed my appearance, it still took me a moment to recognize myself as the actress in the scenes! To my surprise, it was soon twenty minutes from when I was supposed to be in the dorm, and I had just one last scene to finish! “I want to stay!” I complained, even as I followed Beth’s directions and saved, backed up, and logged out of everything. “I know, but the last thing we want to do is have a curfew violation for you?” I nodded, “Yeah…” As I stood up, I realized we’d never changed my diaper again, and it was practically all hanging below the level of my skirt! Beth had just put her backpack on and smirked, “That’s a little wet…?” “I noticed,” I said, looking at the clock. “Do you think you can deal with it until you get back to your nest?” Beth asked. “Time is running out?” “If you carry me?” I said with a sigh. “Just don’t leak on me,” she said half-seriously. “They’re usually pretty good about not doing that. But no promises?” She risked it, gathering me up and walking beside Nikki quickly to the dorms. When we reached Sanders Hall, she sat me down at the door, and I grimaced. “Sorry, Beth. I did leak on you, it looks like.” Thankfully, her jacket was waterproof, but there was a definite spot on her side where my diaper contacted her. “It’s okay, Carly, that’ll teach me to make sure we check your diaper more often! Get inside and get Miss Lilly to change you quickly before you leak on anything else!” she advised as she knelt down and risked getting wet again with a hug. “See you in the morning,” I told her, “Love you,” I added softly. “Love you too,” she smiled at me. I was just crossing the lobby to the elevator when I saw Mackenzie. “Well, hello there,” she said, “I haven’t seen you all week except in the pool!” I blushed, “Sorry, it’s been a busy week, and I’ve been working on that film project.” “Is that where you’re coming from now?” I nodded, “Yeah, we were trying to get as much done today as we could.” “Too busy to change that diapee?” I squirmed under her gaze as she knelt in front of me, clearly able to see the soaked diaper hanging below my skirt! +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the Like button and leave a comment! My writing drought has continued through this week, but I'm hoping this weekend that I may have a shot at writing more again. We'll see what my mindset is like. Unless I have a massively productive weekend, we'll definitely be back on once per week again for a while. Thanks for your patience here!

Well the management of the old site always had problems.. Going back a long while. I as well as others of the staff on the old site, tried to advise Danni, Claudia, Penny. and whatever other characters showed up, that some of the stories were not kosher. But were always told we weren't going to do a blanket purge on certain problematical users.. And 80-90% of the problematic stuff was coming from less then half a dozen users. In fact i was told to manually go through and delete, manually most of these stories... But that i better have a justification for each one i deleted... I only stuck around as long as i did because i was promised payment in form of digimon plushies that i never received Water under the bridge at this point, but the new staff is positively paranoid about these issues. You're one and done on the Scriptorium. I don't care if you bring in a lot of traffic, i don't care if you're popular, i don't care if you've been my friend for 20 years. I didn't even allow search engines to index for the first 3 months

I just went and looked that one up, and you're right, there are parallels for sure. Elfy writes a great story. I'm honoured to have my story mentioned alongside it.

Chapter 3 – A Prescription for Progress Zack read the text message from his stepmother with resignation. Kelly: I’m picking you up in front of the school today. Don’t take the bus home. I will be parked across the street from the school sign. What the hell is this about? He wondered. He had the night off from softball, and had hoped to maybe get a couple of hours of Fortnite in. Kelly probably wanted to go shopping for shorts or something lame like that. Zack still fit in most of his shorts from last year, and anyway, he preferred going shopping with his dad. Kelly could play dress-up with Maddy. He wasn’t interested in being someone’s mannequin. Or doll. When the bell rang, Zack rose from his desk, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He fist-bumped a couple of his buddies, said “I’m not going to be online for a bit” to a few people, and headed to his locker to dump whatever books were in his bag that he didn’t need. Meaning most of them, in his estimation. He’d do homework tomorrow night. He was carried through the front doors of the school with a river of middle schoolers, most of whom were headed for the waiting busses, but he broke off from them, threaded his way between the large yellow conveyances (catching a stern glance from one of the drivers – you weren’t supposed to walk between them), and then he trotted across the grassy boulevard and scanned the vehicles parked in the no stopping zone across the street. Kelly’s silver Mini Cooper stood out from the other vehicles idling along the curb, most of which where SUV’s of one type or another, interspersed with a few minivans and pickup trucks. The two-door Mini looked like it had been manufactured on another scale then most of the mom-mobiles, maybe five eighths or something. She looked up from her phone and waived him over, an unnecessary gesture in his opinion. Obviously, he was heading over to her. What choice did he have? He supposed he could have bolted, or just taken the bus home, but that would have made Kelly angry, which would have made his dad angry, because when Kelly was displeased, she did not tend to keep it bottled up. He glanced left and right, then sauntered over at a pace that, he hoped, would suggest he was doing it on his own sweet time, not as a response to a direct order. He crossed behind the car, came up the passenger side, and opened the door. The front seat was tilted forward, so he tried to push it back, but Kelly blocked its return by putting her hand on the black leather headrest. “The back seat is safest, big guy.” Zack stopped and stepped back, as if reconsidering getting into the car. “Dad lets me ride in the front seat all the time.” “Yeah, well, your dad’s car is bigger, so if he thinks that’s safe, it’s up to him, but in my car, kids go in the back seat. If we get run over by a dump truck, you’ll be thanking me. You might be old enough to ride in the front, but you’re only a stone heavier than kids who use booster seats.” “What the hell’s a stone?” “Language, Zack.” “What the heck’s a stone?” “Fourteen pounds. The minimum weight for riding without a booster seat is eighty pounds, and I’d bet you don’t weigh ninety-five pounds with your shoes on.” “Yeah, but they exempt people over ten years old.” “The laws of physics don’t care how old you are when you go sailing through the windshield in an accident.” “Have you had a lot of accidents?” “Don’t be smart with me. Get in and buckle up, or I’ll pull Maddy’s booster seat out of the trunk for you.” Zack slumped into the back seat as though he was being forced into a police car, buckled his seatbelt, and took out his phone. He deliberately neglected to close the door, or pull the front seat back. “Zack, you’re being a brat!” Kelly fumed, while she undid her own seatbelt and reached across the console to try and reach the door. She had to climb most of the way out of the driver’s seat to get a hand on it. She punched at the start button, put the car in gear, and pulled out into traffic, accelerating abruptly as soon as the path cleared in front of her. Better hurry before they run out of summer clothes. Zack did his best to stare intently at gaming videos on his phone, even though the bumpy ride and go-cart like motions of the little car made watching a small image rendered on a small screen less than ideal. After what felt like an hour, but was probably twenty-five minutes, Kelly zipped into a parking structure next to a mid-rise tower in a complex close to the hospital. Zack looked up and saw a sign that read ‘Medical and Professional Office Parking’. What the hell…? Vaccinations, maybe? Great. However, he didn’t want to grace Kelly with conversation of any sort right now, so after she parked, he waited for her to open the passenger door, and then glumly stepped out, again leaving the door open for her to close. He trudged along behind her as they entered the lobby of the building, and she scanned a list of names and suite numbers on the marble wall beside the elevators. The building smelled of disinfectant and photocopying, and there was a pharmacy off the hallway past the elevators. If things had been going better with Kelly today, he might have thought about asking her to buy him a Gatorade. But he was not going to give her the satisfaction of saying no. The elevator opened before either Kelly or Zack hit the call button. A number of people filed out; a bald man in a charcoal suit, a younger guy in a lab coat, a woman pushing a toddler in a stroller and leading an unhappy looking older kid by the hand. A lady with a cart that had boxes on it. A well-dressed lady wearing too much perfume. Kelly waited for them to exit the mirrored box, and then stepped inside. Zack fixated on his phone and pretended he hadn’t noticed. Maybe it’ll take off with her in it. “Zack! Wake up!” Kelly put a hand out as if to stop the doors, although they had not started closing. Zack ambled forward, trying his best to look unhurried. Once he’d crossed the threshold, she hit the button for the fifth floor, and then held down the door close button, even though people were making their way across the lobby from the entrance. The doors shut, and the box rumbled into motion. On the fifth floor, the doors opened onto another marble lobby, this one with lower ceilings. Across from the bank of elevators, there was the entrance to a dental office on the left, and some kind of doctor’s office on the right… at least it looked like a doctor’s office to Zack. Behind plate glass, there were rows of generous looking leather chairs and benches, a TV on the wall showing a news channel, a reception desk with a woman behind it, wearing scrubs, and a man standing at a shelf of file folders behind her. To Zack, the place looked like bad news, but to Kelly, it was reassuringly professional looking. Kelly walked in, motioned him to the seats, and walked up to the reception desk to talk to the lady in the scrubs. Zack planted himself in a chair and took in his surroundings. The walls and the floor were covered in brown marble, giving the place an upscale appearance. Then he noticed back-lit, bright blue bubble letters running across a bulkhead above the desk. Dr. Amanda Paige & Associates Children’s Cognitive Behavioral & Sleep Therapy Clinic Behavioral clinic…. What is this place? Zack’s boredom turned to unease. There was no earthly reason why Kelly would have gone out of her way to bring him to one of her appointments; he could easily have stayed home alone, and would have been capable of watching Maddy, who was undoubtedly at someone else’s house right now. And anyway, the sign specified that this clinic was for children. He was just thinking that he should have asked more questions before agreeing to be picked up from school, and was considering texting his dad, when the person behind the desk stood up and walked through a door, emerging into a hallway just past the desk. She came around and shook hands with Kelly, who was still standing in front of the desk, and then she motioned for him to come over. Zack looked at the pair pensively, and did not immediately move to stand up, so Kelly shot him an impatient look that got him to his feet. He walked towards them, stopping at what he considered to be a safe distance. “Hello, Zack – my name is Ms. Ellen. Your mother has already told me a lot about you. It’s so nice to meet you. Why don’t both of you follow me.” With that, she turned and walked up the hall, her heel clacks echoing faintly on the shiny stone walls. She’s NOT my mother. Zack thought about saying it instead of just thinking it but decided not to. Depending on what was about to go down, he might need Kelly on his side. This place looked weird. Part way down the hall, there was a room off to the right with glass doors on it, that said ‘Children’s Corner’ on them in more big blue letters. The doors were clear at the top, frosted at the bottom, but Zack was tall enough to make out that there were kids inside seated at tables. Ms. Ellen put her hand on Zack’s shoulder and guided him to the door, which she pulled open. Inside, there was a younger lady sitting at a small desk, with long blond hair and a bright green kerchief tied around her collar. She extended a hand to Zack. “And who have we got here?” she asked. Ms. Ellen responded: “Ms. Christine, this is Zack Fischer. His mom has a meeting with Dr. Paige, so he’s going to be joining your crew for a little bit. Zack, this is Ms. Christine. If you need anything, she’ll take care of you. Please make yourself comfortable. There are books and craft tables, and some game consoles along the back wall. There are bottles of water and juice over there…” She pointed to a low glass fridge in a corner. “…And cookies and crackers over there.” She pointed out a small cabinet. Zack cleared his throat to ask a question, but Ms. Ellen had already whisked Kelly back through the door, to head further down the hallway. He looked at Ms. Christine. She smiled and offered to take the hoodie that he wore open at the front. He declined. She sat back down at the desk and started writing something down on a clipboard. He took in his surroundings. There were a couple of younger kids sitting at a low plastic picnic table, gluing brightly-coloured beads to pieces of construction paper. A girl about Maddy’s age was reading at another table. A boy and a girl who looked closer to his age were watching a kid’s movie from a couple of years before, on a small flat screen TV in a corner that was planted with beanbag chairs. At the far end of the room was a table with four screens on it, two on each side, back-to-back, with video game controllers arrayed around them that nobody was using. Zack decided to make his way over there. When he picked up a controller, a screen popped to life… but not the one he was sitting in front of. He moved over. Hitting the menu button on the controller yielded a list of games that could be played. None of them were new, and none of them were top-tier, action-oriented games, they were all older adventure games with no guns. He found Minecraft on the list… well, he could weaponize some tools in there, he figured. Maybe he’d find a bow and arrow. Or dynamite. Zack played for about 30 minutes, without getting too into the world he was building. He had no idea when they were leaving, but felt like it could be any minute. Realizing that he needed to pee, he stood up and walked back towards the glass doors. Ms. Christine looked up from whatever she was doing. “How can I help you, Zack?” “I need to, uh, use the washroom.” She pointed to an open pass-through back inside the room that he had missed when he made his way over to the video games. “The elimination room is down that way. Just pick up an ‘occupied’ sign from the basket on the shelf, and stick it to the fuzzy plaque on the wall next to the entrance. If you see a sign stuck to the wall, it means the room is occupied, but right now, nobody is in there. Go ahead.” “Uh, thanks…” Zack looked quizzically at the doorway, saw the fuzzy plaque, and the shelf with the basket of signs. He walked over and picked one up. They were red plastic circles that said “Occupied”, and on the back of them they had a patch of Velcro that, he intuited, would stick to the fuzzy framed patch on the wall. He picked one up and pressed it into place. Then he walked through the pass-through. The room he entered hooked off to the left. It was dimly lit. There was a fish tank built into a wall at the far end. More beanbag chairs on the floor. A rocking chair, what looked like exercise mats, and a small sofa. There was a rack of books. What wasn’t there was any sign of a washroom. Zack left the perplexing space and walked back over to Ms. Christine. “There’s no washroom in there.” “You can do whatever you need to do in there. It’s okay. Go ahead. You can use it for as long as you need to, there’s no rush.” “Okay, but… what I need to do is use a washroom.” “What do you need to do in the washroom?” Strange question. “I need to pee.” “You can do that in the elimination room.” “Like on the floor or something? I don’t get it.” Zack felt like he’d stepped into an alternate universe, where up was down, down was sideways, and nobody made any sense. Ms. Christine raised her eyebrows, then looked down at her clipboard, and flipped through a couple of pages. “Oh, right, this is your first visit. Sorry, Zack, my apologies. I can see why you’re confused. No problem. If you head back out to the waiting room, there is a bathroom around the other side of the reception desk. If anyone asks you where you’re going, tell them I said it’s okay. Just knock before you open it, if the door is closed – it doesn’t lock.” Ms. Christine got up and turned what looked like a deadbolt on the glass door, releasing him into the waiting room. It was Zack’s turn to raise his eyebrows, but he nodded dutifully, and headed across the waiting area. A couple of grownups sat in chairs. He guessed that their kids were inside the Children’s Corner. Ms. Ellen looked up at him and smiled, but she didn’t say anything. He found the washroom open and seemingly unoccupied and went inside, although he didn’t like that he couldn’t lock the door. Inside, the room was bigger than he’d expected. It was paneled in the same dark marble as the hallway. There was a counter with a double sink, soap dispensers, mouthwash, Q-tips, a box of latex gloves, and at the end of the room, there was a bathroom stall that, he thought, would have a lock. But before he went in, he took in the other fixture in the room, against the wall perpendicular to the sinks. It looked like a medical examination table. It had a roll of thin paper mounted on a horizontal spool at one end, and a low stepstool in front of it. There was a shelf on the right that held a large box of what looked like wet wipes, and below that, there was a steel garbage can with a pedal that opened the lid. There were also a couple of spray bottles on the shelf, small ones that looked medical. Maybe for cleaning the table? But why is it in here? So weird. Zack went into the stall and relieved himself. It did lock, thankfully. He walked out and went to the sink to wash his hands. He was in no hurry to go back into the Children’s Corner. Ms. Christine seemed nice, but something about the whole place was off. He decided to try the mouthwash – he’d never been in a bathroom that had free mouthwash before, and his dad used it at home, but didn’t give it to him or Maddy. It was green, minty, and it burned a little. He swished it around in his mouth. “Zack… are you in here?” It was Ms. Ellen. Zack spit into the sink. “Yup, I’m done.” He made his way out. “Come over to my desk for a moment, if you don’t mind.” He followed her. While he was in the washroom, another parent and child had come into the waiting room. The dad, in a grey jacket, was reading a magazine. The girl, who looked about the same age as Zack, was wearing a long white dress, and her eyes were locked on Zack. He gave her a sideways glance and walked over to Ms. Ellen’s desk. She was standing in front of it, instead of behind it, and she produced a long ribbon from her pocket that he determined was a measuring tape. With quick, studied motions, she slung the tape around his waist, then around his hips, noting the measurements on a chart that was on the desk. Then she motioned him over to a digital scale that was tucked into a cubby hole under the desk, which she pulled out. She tapped it once with her foot. “Hang on a sec, let it wake up…” The scale showed a zero. “There you go, step up. Don’t rest your hands on the desk – that’s cheating.” Zack stepped onto the scale. After a few seconds, the display showed 94.5 lbs. Ms. Ellen wrote that down too. Then she dropped one end of the measuring ribbon to the floor and asked him to step on the little metal nub that was at the end of it. Zack complied. She stretched it taught and eyeballed the number at his forehead. She wrote something else down. “Thanks Zack, that’s all I need. I can take you in to see your mom now, and meet the doctor, if you like.” Zack didn’t know if he liked it or not, but it seemed to be the way that fate was carrying him, so he let her lead the way. He glanced over at the girl in the dress. She was slightly wide-eyed, and looked like maybe she wanted to say something to him. A warning perhaps. But the moment passed in an instant, and she looked at the floor. He followed Ms. Ellen down the hall past the strange kids’ area, to normal-looking door. Ms. Ellen knocked on it, and from inside, a female voice said “Come on in.” Ms. Ellen opened the door, stepped aside, and Zack walked into what seemed to him to be a big office. There was a hefty wooden desk in the room, and a conference table with six leather chairs around it, as well as a small couch, and more beanbag chairs in a corner. These people like their beanbag chairs. A lady wearing what looked to Zack like principal’s or vice-principal’s clothes, was sitting on one side of the table, and Kelly was sitting on the other. The lady had shoulder-length hair that was blond mixed with gray. She had a gold watch on. In front of her was another clipboard, and it looked like her and Kelly had been looking at a laptop that was in the middle of the table. The lady spoke. “High, Zack. Come in and have a seat. Your mom has told me so much about you.” Everyone calling Kelly his mom grated heavily on Zack, but his uncertainty about the circumstances caused him to reign in his tongue. “Hi.” He said simply. He took a seat one empty chair away from Kelly. “I’m Dr. Amanda Paige, but you can call me Dr. Amanda. Your mom has been telling me….” Zack interrupted softly: “Kelly. She’s Kelly.” The lady paused, glanced at Kelly, then went on. “Kelly has been telling me about some of the issues you’ve been having at night, poor sleeping, accidents, leaks. She said that it’s been preventing you from doing fun stuff like sleepovers, and important stuff, like paying attention in class. And being that tired and inattentive might even be causing you to have some slipups during the day.” Zack’s face turned bright red in a rising tide from his chin to his forehead. Involuntarily, he closed his eyes and dropped his head. What the absolute fu**?!? “Take a breath, Zack. It’s okay. This is very, very common. I have a room full of kids out there who have some of the same issues that you do, some older, some younger than you. This is not a place for shame or embarrassment, this is a place for solutions. I believe that I can help you, and help your m… Kelly… to help you as well.” Zack stared at the floor. “You and I are going to have some meetings in the coming weeks where you are going to have a chance to tell me everything you’re thinking about. Your voice is very important here. And you’re going to participate in some group jams, as we call them, where you’ll meet kids just like yourself, who are working through similar challenges. But for the moment, we’re going to address some practical considerations first. “The training pants that you’ve been wearing at night, they aren’t really meant for kids your age. Sure, they say they are on the packaging, and sure, they fit okay, but what do they always end up doing? Leaking, that’s what. The most important thing for you is getting a good night’s sleep – that’s pivotal to your social and academic life. And the first step to getting you there is… stopping the leaks! Eventually, we’ll stop you from leaking, too, but first, we need to stop your underpants from leaking, okay?” Zack looked across the glossy wooden table at Dr. Amanda. She seemed to be waiting for a response. He whispered “Okay” before he knew what he was doing. All the fight had gone out of him. Sitting here in this room with these two grownups, talking about his bedwetting like it was front page news, was more than he could process. “Okay! That’s good. We got an ‘okay’. So, Zack, I have a question for you – do you like animals, or, do you like construction equipment?” “Huh?” “Do you prefer pictures of animals, or pictures of construction equipment?” “Uhh… what kind of animals?” “Dogs, cats, bunnies.” Zack had no idea where this was going. “Probably… construction equipment. I guess.” “Good! That’s all I need to know for now.” Dr. Amanda pulled out her phone and typed a quick note to someone. “Kelly, thank you for bringing this charming young man in to see me today. Zack, I look forward to getting to know you.” She glanced from Zack, back to Kelly. “Ms. Ellen is going to give you a patient number at the front desk. Stop at the pharmacy on the way out and ask for Mr. Burke. Give him that number, and he’ll be able to pull up my notes. Drive around to the South side of the building – that’s the opposite side from the main road – and you’ll see a steel door with a ramp in front of it. If you back up that ramp and ring the doorbell, Mr. Burke will help you put everything into your car. Be careful on that ramp – I’ve nearly driven off it myself!”

31 - Moment of Pause “Just...just don’t hit any bumps, okay?” Emily pleaded nervously, practically a bead of sweat rolling down the side of her head. She clutched her charge and held it close to her arms, fearing for its dear life. “If you act like that, it makes me want to tease you, you know?” Joyce grinned, leaning her foot just a little more in tune to the engine’s growing hum. “Stop! Stop!” Emily shouted, and her cries were answered as Joyce eased off the speed with an amused laugh. “Emily, it’s just a bottle, not a bomb?” Joyce giggled. “Yeah, but it’s an expensive one!” Emily worriedly said, looking down at the luxurious item. “You don’t even know how much it is?” Joyce said, keeping her eyes on the road. “Because you wouldn’t tell me!” She retorted with an annoyed attitude. The day Joyce came home with it Emily had asked what it was, and her answer being a “small” gift to Michael and his wife for having them over. Well, Emily knew it to be expensive because if it hadn’t been Joyce wouldn’t have minded telling her the amount. In other words, responses like, “Don’t worry about it,” or “Not that much,” equated to a digit followed by too many zeroes for Emily’s purse. “Does it bother you that much?” Joyce asked, though looking no less chipper. Frankly this felt like a wonderful serving of karma for Emily’s little stunt about the whole “cheating” scandal. It’d been almost a week and it still made Joyce furrow her brows, thinking how gullible she’d been… “Mm...well, I hope they like wine…” Emily pensively spoke, looking down on the bottle. A dark crimson encased in a tinted glass, sealed by a cork wrapped in twine, shrouded by a paper covering, added with a present bow to boot. Joyce stole her an urgent glance. “Well don’t say that now! That wasn’t cheap, you know!” “See!? I knew it!” Emily hadn’t skipped a beat in her persecution, followed by more laughter from Joyce. Naturally she’d done it to get a rise out of the frazzled girl, and it felt great. “You’re gonna need to calm down there, munchkin,” Joyce rhythmically ran her thumb across the steering wheel, “otherwise you’re gonna be too tired to socialize when we get there?” “Maybe all I need is some of this fifty-thousand fun juice.” Emily mused. “Okay, it wasn’t that expensive. Two digits less, please.” “You didn’t pack me a weird bathing suit, did you?” Emily asked as she turned her head to the large canvas bag they had in the backseat. “Cross my heart,” Joyce swore. Though, that wouldn’t be for forever… Sure, getting to see Emily in a bikini was exciting, but her other side wanted to see what kind of kiddush one-pieces she could get her into. Which begged a new question: does Amy do bathing suits too? “...No diapers either, right?” “Definitely not.” Joyce didn’t play with the phrasing much at all this time. It’d unfortunately become a sensitive issue in not the way she liked. “...And in regards to that, I was thinking we should finally talk about that. Either tonight or tomorrow… Is that alright?” And it had certainly been a week since the Zoo incident; the reason for their small get-together today and the tension that remained behind closed doors. “Mm.” Emily nodded with agreement. It had become more of an awkward thing the longer they stayed away from it. Once again, neither felt any kind of animosity to the other, yet felt a need to establish themselves clearly. What one would acknowledge though and the other would never say was Joyce’s need to be fitted with a kill switch or speed bump. Mommy Joyce, particularly. But no matter what, what both wanted more than anything was to go back to the way things had been and continue progressing as they were. Somehow they’d lost the reigns and given themselves a scare. “It’s kinda weird, though,” Emily passively spoke as she looked out the window, “I’ve never been outside the city here.” “Yeah?” Joyce in tune responded. “I think I have a couple times. I thought about getting a nice house out here for a short minute, but in the end, I would rather staying closer to the company, and financials aren’t too big of a factor...” “Speaking of which, are we almost there?” Emily muttered, leaning into the GPS on the console. “Our Estimated Arrival Time is approximately three minutes.” Emily repeated verbatim from the screen. “Roger that, navigator.” Joyce smirked. They were driving up a winding hill right now. It was an interesting neighborhood; suburbs that hadn’t prioritized the quantity in housing over quality. Decently sized and spacious properties. Probably a few degrees less than the market Joyce might start to consider, but nice nonetheless. Clearly Michael and his wife did well for themselves. “I was a little surprised to hear from Michael so soon,” Joyce said. “Yeah, me too,” Emily agreed, “but it’s probably better this way. Otherwise we’d probably forget about them?” Nothing against Michael and Jackie, but that’s how relationships went. Leave them idle and you start to drift elsewhere. “A very fair point, especially when your only connection is having given couple’s counselling to the other?” Joyce chuckled. “True...” Emily said, not so warm to reliving the experience. “It’ll be fun to get to know Michael a bit more, though. Him including his wife; I think he said she was back home from business?” “What if she turns out to be like your...business enemy or something?” Emily asked in a mostly not so serious tone. “Not gonna happen, don’t worry,” Joyce laughed. “I don’t really see my competitors as enemies. More along the lines of...potential business partners with similar interests.” Emily only stared at her, letting the description soak in. “You sound like the business enemy...” “Well, it’s all a matter of perspective.” Joyce curtly replied, leading to giggles from Emily. “Regardless of what she does for work, which is very much unlikely the same as mine, I promise to play nice!” Emily gave an accepting nod. “Mmph.” She approved, as if she were the new authority figure in their dynamic. “I’ve raised you well.” “Raised me? We’ll see who raises who when I toss you into their pool...” Joyce muttered with a sneaky grin. Though her playful tone shifted almost immediately. “Oh look! We’re already here.” She said as they rounded the final curb. Coming into view was a nicely sized two-story home, paired with a double garage and a large, green front lawn. A tall white fence ran along the perimeter of its backyard. “It seems kinda stereotypical? In a good way.” Emily remarked about the home. It looked nice, especially the bottom trim of rock and mortar along the base of the house. “Well, stereotypical for an above average middle class home, I guess.” Joyce agreed. Joyce pulled into the long driveway before killing the engine. Both got out, and Emily was closer to the path leading to the front porch, but she lingered by the vehicle, waiting for Joyce. With the mention of swimming, both Joyce and Emily opted for something more poolside, that being sandals, exposed shoulders, sunglasses and shorts. “Actually, I haven’t swam once since I came to this state,” Emily suddenly admitted. “Really?” Joyce was a little surprised. “Are you excited to get a chance to go back in a pool?” “Kinda...” Emily pivoted her sandal-clad foot off the ground with her toe, as if to vent her poorly hidden feelings. “...It’d be kinda nice...” “I’m glad to see you looking forward to something~!” Joyce commented with a kiss on her cheek. “W-well, you’re gonna swim too, right?” She asked. After all, it wouldn’t be cool unless the cool kids were doing it. “Who’s gonna lift you up when your feet don’t touch the bottom?” Joyce asked, though the joke became apparent faster than Joyce could keep a straight face. “Bleeeeh~” Emily replied, in the form of a wet, flapping tongue. Joyce slung the canvas bag over her shoulder and walked with Emily to the front door. They rang the bell and waited patiently. “She’s here! She’s here!” A faint voice came from inside the house. Joyce and Emily shared a look with each other, trying to discern it. Suddenly, Joyce was tapping Emily on the shoulder. “I’d hate to blow her cover, so try not to make it obvious, but...” Joyce pointed Emily’s gaze to a window accompanied by curtains, only one end looked moved to the side, as a tiny pair of eyes stared from within. As Emily leaned back to get a better look, the eyes vanished and the curtain fell back into place. “Whoa--what? Jackie! Slow down! You’re gonna make me trip and break something!” A familiar voice chastised from inside the home. Finally, they heard the knob turn and the door opened to Michael greeting them. “Hey you two! Emily, Joyce, glad you guys could make it!” “Thank you for having us,” Joyce thanked him, “Should we come in through the front or around the back…?” Michael waved the notion off. “Come on in, we can head into the backyard from inside.” He opened the additional glass door on top of the wooden one for them. “Pardon the diabolical Jackie Bomb that went off in the living room. Try not to look on the way by; it isn’t pretty...” And as the ashamed tour guide explained, they did pass by the entrance to the living room, which certainly did look...out of sorts. Toys were scattered everywhere, and so were some of the throw pillows kept on the couch. Emily could also hear some kind of cartoon coming from the tv. “Where is Jackie, by the way?” Emily asked. “We thought we heard her...and saw her.” She added the last point with a small laugh. “Well, I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal if we told her you two would be coming over the weekend for a small pool party, but apparently a week wasn’t enough to get it out of her system.” Michael sighed with a chuckle, reminiscing with questionable feelings. “Sorry in advance, Emily, but Jackie may be very well glued to you. We’ll keep her on a leash as best we can, though.” “No problem…?” Emily answered, wondering why she got the special warning. But giving it some more thought, maybe because she met Jackie first and had some one-on-one with her… “Joyce, sorry to say she seems to have a fixation on Emily. I’m sure she’ll be excited to see you again too, though?” Joyce played it off nicely, laughing as she said, “Don’t worry, I promise not to take offense!” In spite of her fondness of babying Emily, that didn’t extend to being a huge fan of kids. She’d never dislike a child without reason, including Jackie, but the thought of them didn’t put her over the moon. The closer they got to the kitchen, a conversation could be heard. “Jackie, you need to stop tugging on my pants!” A voice complained. “But…! Can you come with me?” Jackie could be heard begging. “I need to finish setting up the snacks, honey. You’re perfectly capable of saying ‘hi’ on your own. Go on now, shoo!” She chastised her playfully, chuckling as Jackie could be heard making a whining noise. And as Michael, Joyce and Emily entered the kitchen, it came to no one’s surprise when they saw the scene. Just as the voices and tone described, Jackie was clutching the woman’s pants, now hiding herself behind them with half an eye peeking at Emily and Joyce. “What are we gonna do with you, you little monkey?” The woman laughed. She looked up and turned to the three other adults. “Oh! You two must be Emily and Joyce! I’ve heard so much about...” She continued to smile at their entrance, though she looked at a loss for words once her eyes fell on Emily. Then after a confused pause, her expression lit up again.”Ah! I remember you!” She laughed to herself while the only other person in the room who could be capable of understanding was Emily. “Huh?” Michael looked between Emily and his wife, Joyce in a similar fashion. “Hon, you two know each other?” Apparently it got to the woman quite a bit, because she was wiping her eye. Emily stayed quiet though, suddenly feeling quite embarrassed. “We saw each other at a bar almost a week ago! We didn’t exactly end on good terms though...funny how things work out.” “G-good to see you again...” Emily felt sheepish, and quite regretful over the way she acted the first time. She really wasn’t counting on seeing her again. “I’m sorry about what I said--!” “Oh? That?” She waved her hand dismissively with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. You had your reasons,” she looked at Michael to give him the abbreviated version, “I chatted with her for a little bit and offered to pick up her tab, but I guess I must have sounded like a shady conman with some of my comments...” Now Joyce was starting to feel a bit more clued in, taking in the realization that this was the woman from the bar Emily went to… Red hair...nice figure...good looks...stable financial income? She was right about to give her a narrow gaze until her inner voice of reason walloped her brain. Idiot! She’s married! How is she going to steal Emily from you?! “So you two already met?” Michael asked Emily. “Sort of...” Emily said awkwardly, hoping dearly they wouldn’t have to go into any more detail about how bitchy she was being. She didn’t see much of a profiteer anymore, rather a cheery wife and mother. “We never exchanged names, though.” “It’s great to finally meet you, I’m Joyce.” Joyce was the first to extend her hand, “I had heard some pretty interesting things about that day!” Joyce laughed, though not even herself knew if it was truly genuine. “Sorry if you heard anything bad about me, I’m promise I’m not as bad as I might have seemed,” she returned the shake, “I’m Carol. And, I know you’ve already met her, but this is our little fireball, Jackie, who won’t seem to come out from behind my legs?” True to her word, the six year old remained terribly shy. She made a vocal pout as she stayed behind cover. Carol gave a loving sigh, leaning in to give an audible whisper. “Honestly, this little monster stretches my pants twice over every time she meets somebody new!” “Uh, it’s nice to meet you, Carol…” Emily spoke up as she came forward, “officially, this time.” Emily stuck out her hand. Carol smiled once more, returning her gesture. “Likewise, Emily.” Though, to Emily and Joyce’s surprise, she tugged on Emily’s hand, pulling her in for a brief hug. While Emily tried to comprehend what had happened, Carol let out another laugh as Joyce blinked. “Sorry, sorry!” Carol lamented, letting her go. “I figured there might have been some tension left over from our first, unofficial meeting. That, and I don’t want you to get the impression I’m all business.” “Uh...it’s alright,” Emily did her best to laugh it off. As Emily stood there between Carol and Joyce, her back to the latter, she could feel herself in the way of a targeted gaze. She turned her head, expecting to see some kind of fury, but instead it was a rosy smile from Joyce. Emily had an inkling of something in her mind however. She’s...jealous?! “Now, if my wonderful husband could do me the pleasure of removing this tiny terror from my legs, I’ll be almost done with our snacks!” And in turn, Michael managed to get ahold of Jackie as she squirmed in his arms, pouting the whole time. “Come on Jackie, don’t you want to say hi to Emily and Joyce again?” Michael sighed as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “You wouldn’t believe it,” Carol added as she spoke to them, “Jackie could not stop for a second about you!” She said to Emily. “The whole week it’s been about how much fun she wanted to have with you! Even when one of her friends came over she managed to infect them with curiosity, too. You’re like a mini celebrity to her.” She laughed, as Emily sort of did too. It was a bit odd to be obsessed over like that, but given it was through the scope of a child, it became more endearing than anything else… “Well, I thought knowing you’d be off the market, I was safe, but maybe I still need to be on the defensive?” Joyce countered with a small joke. Carol found it funny, but Emily wasn’t sure whether she trusted Joyce’s intentions. “That reminds me!” Emily finally spoke up. She held the bottle wrapped in a bow forward. “We wanted to get you two something for having us over...” “Really?” Carol gave a surprised look, but accepted the bottle while reading the front. “Really, you two didn’t have to do that... Oh, honey! Look! It’s a bottle from Carmine’s!” She looked back at Joyce and Emily. “We can’t take something like this - it must have cost you a small fortune!” “Please, we insist,” Joyce stayed her friendly self, “I’m a bit of a regular there anyways, so if you think about it, getting you a gift also puts me in good favor with the owner?” “Jeez,” Michael made an impressed whistle as he looked at the bottle’s date. “I don’t suppose we could trade the bottle for a reservation there instead? We tried for our last anniversary, but we weren’t expecting such a long backlog for reservations…” “I couldn’t find anyone in my circles close enough to get us in...” Carol sighed. “Well, next time you’ll have my number?” Joyce chimed in. “I’m sure I can figure something out for you down the line.” “Don’t joke,” Carol went back to a little more cutting and organizing on a large wooden platter, “we’ll actually take you up on that!” “I’m counting on it,” Joyce happily replied. She hoisted the canvas bag back over her shoulder. “I don’t want to move the party, but is there somewhere we could set our bag down? Emily and I haven’t changed into our bathing suits yet...” “Of course! If you go back down the hall, on your right you should see the opening to the bathroom. You two can change there. Michael and I need to do the same, actually, and so does Jackie.” She set her stuff down, walking to her husband and accepting Jackie into her arms. “Sorry folks, the diva’s feeling a bit shy at the moment...” She excused herself with her daughter in arms. Emily looked back at the platter. It looked divine. “Oh wow, an antipasto platter?” Joyce asked Michael, admiring the handiwork. “It all looks so good!” She commented. Closely packed and dressed in varied assortments of meats, cheeses, olives, crackers and more. “Well, especially now considering the gift you two just gave us, it’s the least we could do,” Michael said, seeming to revere their gesture much more than his own. “Either way, it all looks really good!” Emily finally commented. She tugged on Joyce’s hand, “Wanna go change now?” Joyce nodded. “Sounds like a plan, my little diva,” she grinned, leaving Emily puzzled over the verbiage as they walked to the bathroom. “Any complaints if we change at the same time?” Joyce asked right before closing the door. “Wait,” Emily’s complacent look dropped, “you mean...I’m gonna see you...naked?” Joyce furrowed her brow. “Well, yeah...you didn’t seem to mind before when I...” Then she saw the grin on Emily’s face. “You’ve been teasing me an awful lot, you know that?” Joyce tried to hide her smile as she already started to strip. “What can I say? Gotta make up for lost points. I feel...reinvigorated.” She spoke with a feigned distance in her star-struck eyes. “Hmm. Well, I’ll be needing to think about how I can knock you down a few pegs again...” She spoke deviously as she unhooked Emily’s bra, then turned for hers to be undone the same way. “And hey,” Emily stopped to look at Joyce in the eyes, “remember to play nice?” “I promise. I was just...getting the rest of it out of my system. Wouldn’t you be surprised if someone you felt threatened by hugged me the first time we met?” “So you do feel threatened by her!” Emily accused, trying to stifle a laugh. “She’s married, Joyce! To a guy!” “I know, I know! I was being...irrational.” She read her lines off the ceiling. “You know that about me already. She can’t surprise me anymore. Besides, she seems nice; I’d like to get to know her more.” Emily paused, as if to try and discern whether or not it was a lie. But it wasn’t, or either Emily could not discern well enough, because she let her off the hook. “I believe you. And another thing to remember,” Emily said, pressing her bare self against Joyce, “I only belong to you!” Joyce had raised her brows, but her look tempered into a tender smile, one Emily could feel with absolute certainty. “Yes you do,” she kissed her on the head, “And you’re the only one I take orders from.” She finally pulled out their bikinis. Understandably, Michael was the first one to be outside by the in-ground pool when Joyce and Emily came out. Joyce carried towels for both as they sat down in some chairs next to Michael surrounding a table. In its center was a long pole, and above that was an expanded umbrella to shield them from the bright sun from above. “Oh wow, I knew it was going to be a nice day, but the stars really did seem to align...” Joyce commented. “Right?” Michael agreed. “It feels like you can’t make weather-dependent kinds of plans, otherwise Murphy’s Law rears its head...” “Sorry we’re late!” Carol announced her arrival as she brought Jackie out in arms with her. Carol was in a two-piece as well, whereas Jackie was in a one-piece. Pink, polka dotted with mermaids patterned all over. Joyce fought hard not to sigh. Definitely need to get Emily something like that… “Jeez though, it’s been so long since I’ve even gone near a pool,” Emily briefly ranted, “I’m practically ready to be a mermaid if it means I can swim again!” Of all things to happen, no one expected it to be the turn of Jackie’s head, a wide, glowing smile. “You like mermaids too?” Emily suddenly paused with surprise. “Uhm, yeah! I like them a lot. Do you too?” “Yeah!” Jackie vigorously nodded. Taking advantage of the moment, Carol was able to let her go. She scurried over to the seat next to Emily, climbing in. “Do you like Ariel?” She eagerly asked. “O--...of course I do!” Emily said, suddenly nervous about how much her mythical sea life knowledge was about to be called into question. “She’s my favorite mermaid!” Though, she hadn’t a clue what other ones existed, if any… Jackie giggled, seeming overjoyed to hear this. “Me too! I like Ariel cuz she has hair like Mommy’s!” Hair like her mom’s? Like Carol’s? Oh, duh. Red. Emily made an agreeing noise. “That’s a good point. They both do look kinda similar...” Carol then came back out with the platter of delicious looking food. After another quick trip inside, she was coming back out with cups of ice water. Emily had been saved from her interrogation once Carol sat down in the chair Jackie was in, opting to keep her in her lap. “I would offer to try out that bottle you two brought, but for the sake of sensible thinking and safe decisions, maybe when we don’t need to worry about driving that night?” Carol smirked, leading to mutual agreement. “So Joyce, you’ve gotta be pulling our leg, right?” Michael asked as she grabbed a small ball of mozzarella. “You said you’re a regular at Carmine’s? We can’t even manage to go once!” “Mm, well...” Joyce paused to finish swallowing, “It started first as a business dinner, but I guess I had a chance meeting with the owner that night. I said I was a fan of the food so he insisted that I come again. So I did, talked a little more, and it wasn’t so hard after that getting to go again. Also, the food was good, so I may have invested a little...” Emily from the sidelines raised a brow. A little? “But, I guess I’m a regular for the owner. It’s a little embarrassing, but they sort of know my face there.” “If we do somehow manage to go, you’ll have to go with us,” Carol added, “you seem like you’d get the red carpet rolled out for you every time you go! And Emily needs to come too, of course!” “That definitely sounds like fun,” Joyce smiled. “Can I come too?” Jackie chipperly added. Joyce gave a difficult response, which was an awkward smile, unsure of how to phrase her response. It needn’t be said, but Carmine’s was closer to a business dinner establishment than a regular restaurant. Kids weren’t much of a thing there… “I don’t think you’d like it there anyways, Honey,” Michael jumped in. “No chicken fingers,” he said solemnly, to which incited a genuine frown from Jackie. She had lost interest entirely. “Mommy!” Jackie had already shifted her attention. “Can we go swimming?” “In a minute, honey,” Carol said as she pacified her with half a roll of sliced provolone and gave herself the rest. “Joyce, I’m sorry for putting the spotlight on you so much, but what do you do for work?” Joyce nodded as she chewed. “I run a medical company. Frontier?” Quietly, Emily gave her the side eye. Not only was this the first time she’d heard the exact truth herself, but someone she just met could get the answer out of her immediately? By now Emily had started to draw her conclusions, but it was still vexing in its own way… Michael lightly laughed as he took a sip of his water. “Stop joking - after that gift you gave, we really won’t know what you say is fact or fiction!” Joyce raised a brow, signaling her innocent confusion. “...You’re being serious?” Carol asked once more, and Joyce nodded. “I don’t want to make this all about me, but if you can’t take my word for it, you could always look me up...” The married couple quickly double backed though. “No, no! We believe you; we’d never call you a liar, it’s just...surprising,” Michael gave an astonished chuckle. “It’s kind of funny to think how one thing led to another. What were you two doing at the zoo?” “My parents were visiting for a few days and Emily and I came up with the zoo as a place for us to go.” Joyce explained. “Ah, that’s right!” Michael then remembered. “Emily mentioned something like that when we were talking.” He didn’t go into detail, which both Emily and Joyce appreciated. He had the politeness to not dig any further. As great as it was to meet him, their first introductions weren’t caused by anything good. “And Emily was fighting with Joyce!” Jackie suddenly said with an earnest tone, assuming her contribution to be helpful. “A-ahm…?” Joyce gave an embarrassed laugh, unsure of how to bridge off of that. Emily looked equally as stunned as well. “Jackie!” Carol admonished, “We don’t talk about things that aren’t our business to share.” “But I was there!” Jackie complained. “No ‘but’s,” Michael stepped in. Before Jackie could start to feel upset about being scolded, Emily hurriedly interjected. “It’s okay, really! It’s just a sort of...sensitive subject, that’s all.” “Sorry...” Jackie was the first to say, impressing her parents, even if she couldn’t look Emily in the eyes. “It’s alright.” Emily smiled. There wasn’t much point in being upset now. Not as if it could be taken back, and well...kids are kids. “Actually, come to think of it,” Michael pivoted, “Emily, I can’t remember. Did we ever talk about work? What kind of work are you in?” It was an odd instinct, but Emily’s surprise from the question left her looking at Carol for a split-second. “Me? I’m...in real estate.” Her answer was slow and to herself less than stellar. Still, Michael nodded. “That’s great. I mean, the market fluctuates, but there’s always gotta be some kind of property that needs moving, I guess? Are you someone that sells the houses?” He asked. “Not exactly...I was...” She was starting to feel a bit warm. Her own mind was talking her into this, yet she couldn’t shake the dreadful embarrassment in having to state that she was jobless. Regardless of the reason, what good did it look to declare yourself a jobless face living it up with a wealthy company head? “I do the office work.” Emily managed to speak, but didn’t find it hard to be brief. Uncomfortably so. Nevertheless, Michael eased the tension seemingly felt only by Emily as he nodded. “I can definitely relate to the office work. I do detailing work for an electrical company, but no matter the medium, there’s always the same middleman stuff we have to deal with...” He sighed right then, as if reliving the workdays that just transpired. “Meanwhile,” he looked at his wife with jealousy, “this one probably spends more time outside her own office than in it.” “You try driving and flying all over the place, five days a week, with weekends included.” Carol defensively said. “Well, now that we’ve all had a turn, what do you do, Carol?” Joyce asked, truthfully curious herself. “Me? I’m a bit more freeform, I guess, but I help invest in smaller and more...unorthodox establishments?” Naturally, the use of a big word garnered Jackie’s attention. “Mommy, what’s un...un-or-thoh-docks?” She asked. “It means not as common. You don’t see it often.” Carol answered, kissing her on the forehead. Joyce had asked and she wasn’t disappointed. Rather, spurred. “Really? Which kinds?” “Well...I’d be willing to discuss more, but...” And with her hand out of view from the small girl sitting in her lap, she quietly pointed at her. Joyce laughed, understandingly. “Actually, nevermind. Emily’s keeping me on a tight leash anyway; today is all play and no business, she said.” “Oh?” Carol’s tone rose in mischief. “I didn’t mean it like that…!” Emily made a small whine, giving Joyce the kind of look that felt quite cheated. And just as Joyce was thinking of another playful quip to say, Jackie had once more stolen the show. “Mommy…!” Jackie genuinely whined. “I wanna go swimming!” “Okay, okay,” Carol relented, lifting her out of her lap as she stood. As soon as she set her down, Jackie was already bolting for the shallow end of the pool, right until Michael called for her with a stern voice. “Jackie!” He said, freezing her in her tracks. “You know you’re not allowed in without your floaties?” And for Emily and Joyce, unbeknownst to Jackie’s personal stance on such a controversial matter, were quickly enlightened by the erupting whine from her mouth. “But Daddy…!” “Absolutely not, honey.” Carol affirmed the parental law. “Floaties first, then we can go swim.” “No!” Jackie shouted back, lightly stamping her foot. Carol set her hands on her hips. The visiting couple remained quiet, as was tradition for these kinds of things. It was always awkward having to watch a parent discipline their child right in front of guests. But before Carol could do any stern parenting, Michael elected the path of questioning. “Jackie, you’re always okay with wearing them; why not now?” Joyce much like Emily tried to mind their business despite sitting right next to it all, but she couldn’t help but make a discerning observation. The little girl, constantly as she maintained her objections, gave a not so subtle glance at she and Emily. “I...I’ma big girl!” Jackie said simply. “Yes, you are,” Carol agreed, “which is why big girls know to wear their floaties if they haven’t finished swimming lessons, yet.” “I don’t wanna!” Jackie pouted. “Then you don’t want to swim?” Carol countered. “No!” Jackie was already getting teary-eyed. “Then floaties it is.” Carol held her hand out. “Come on, we’ll go get your favorite pair.” The little girl sniffled as she took her mother’s hand and they started walking to the sliding doors. “Uhm...Carol?” Everyone turned their heads, well except for a bashful Jackie, to Emily. “If it’s okay...maybe I could use a pair, too?” Emily awkwardly chuckled. “After all, it’s been a while since I last swam...I might be out of practice?” Everyone seemed to be surprised, yet the constant outlier seemed to be quite curious. “Do you need floaties too?” Jackie asked Emily, turning her head. “W-well...” Emily looked yet again on the spot. “I guess it’s better safe than sorry?” “Emily, are you sure?” Carol asked, looking terribly apologetic. Above Jackie’s head all the adults could see her intent clear as day. “You really don’t need to...” “No! Honestly, I better play it safe. Don’t wanna drown in somebody’s pool, after all.” Emily breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief, stealing a grin at Jackie, infected by the look and mumbled a giggle. “Hmm...you make a good point, Emily,” Joyce spoke up next. “Mm...Carol? Actually, could you bring me a pair too, if you have them? I think I might have gotten a bit rusty as well.” Emily gave Joyce a brief look, who smiled. Carol seemed to have been caught off guard not once, but now twice. Michael seemed surprised as well. “...Alrighty, then.” Carol nodded. “Three pairs of floaties.” Then she looked down at Jackie. “See? Emily and Joyce don’t mind wearing them, why do you?” “No! No! I’ll wear them!” Jackie kept tugging on Carol’s hand, her attitude pulling a complete 180. They watched the mother and daughter go inside before turning back to themselves amongst the trio. “Thank you, you two.” Michael appreciatively smiled. “Even though she’s just a kid, Jackie can be self-conscious around others, especially people she wants to impress.” Michael said, especially looking at Emily. “Well...it’s only a pair of floaties,” Emily shrugged. “I can swallow that kinda pill if it makes her feel more comfortable.” Really, the thought only barely crossed her mind before she was already putting it into action. Granted, opting in for a kiddie look probably didn’t do great things for her “Adult Image”. A pair of lips kissed Emily’s temple. “What was that for?” “Nothing. Just proud of you.” Joyce grinned. And so it wasn’t much later on until Two women and one small girl were all donning inflatable floats wrapped around their arms. “They’re...snug...” Joyce said, looking at her arms. They didn’t fully reach her biceps and sat just above her elbows, seeing as they were kid-sized. Carol paused for a breath, who was currently breathing air into Jackie’s which did fit her as intended. What seemed to matter the most was that her smile was from ear to ear. “Don’t worry, my husband’s a great swimmer if you start to drown!” Carol joked. Joyce smiled back before saying to Michael, “Counting on you!” to which he gave a playful nod. “Jackie, stop fidgeting, you little rascal,” Carol said, finding her mouth being dragged every which way as the little girl couldn’t stop hopping around. She marveled at all the grown-ups taking after her. And how couldn’t she? She felt part of something now. “It almost feels like getting my blood pressure taken...” Emily commented on her own set, decorated in mermaid prints. Jackie had insisted Emily get her favorite pair. Which is funny to think about, that Jackie could have a favorite among things she seemed to hate… “At least yours fit pretty well,” Joyce observed, giving Emily’s a little tug. Unlike Joyce, Emily’s arms were just small enough to slide them up into place with a little finagling. Would it actually save her from drowning? Doubtful. But, would it keep her fashionable? ...Also doubtful. Emily stepped over to the edge of the pool, sticking just a toe in the water. And to her pleasant surprise, it was quite warm. “Is this pool heated?” Emily asked Michael. He nodded. “To quote my wife, ‘I wouldn’t be caught dead swimming otherwise’.” “I don’t think I’ve ever been to a heated swimming pool before...” Emily touched the water again in awe. “Okay, honey, all set.” Carol sufficed, giving her daughter a pat on the back. All four girls looked at the water. Carol said to Michael, “Coming in?” “Maybe in a minute,” he paused to eat a piece of cheese from the board. “Gotta make up for everybody’s share!” And in a sudden moment Emily saw the world around her turn sideways as she felt a moment of trance. It was a princess carry like the many she’d found herself in before. And there she was, in Joyce’s arms. Staring up at her with a blush, especially admiring her figure in her bikini. This all happened in the span of a couple seconds, and Emily blushed, flustered that she’d be making such a bold and romantic advance right now… “J-Joyce! Really? Righ--” But it was Joyce’s devilish smile that betrayed the fantasy. “Emily’s first!” And for just a moment, Emily had flown. She soared wonderfully high. High enough to wail from the bottom of her lungs to the top, enough to feel her heart drop for just a moment as gravity pulled her right back down. Then, wonder and amazement quickly swam away as the girl cannonballed into the water. Underneath the water everything was muted above, but Emily scrambled with waving arms and kicking feet as she swam to the surface. All she could hear were Jackie’s eager giggles and laughs. “Do me! Me next!” Jackie begged, hopping from toe to toe in front of Joyce. Joyce though gave her a confused look. “Do what?” “That!” She excitedly shouted, pointing at Emily. “That where?” Joyce turned her head, obviously playing dumb. “Like Emily! Over there!” She fully turned this time to point. And now with Joyce in her blind spot, the squeal of a six year old became the new tune as Joyce whisked her in the air and dropped her in the pool, aiming for the shallow end this time. The girl immediately bobbed to the top, courtesy of her floaties, and the rush of excitement already had her begging for more. “Is it warm?” Joyce asked. Emily could only stare with a fire in her eyes. “Hey Em, catch!” Michael shouted from behind. Emily turned in the water at the perfect time for a splash from something hitting the water to hit her face. A worthy cost though for what she had received. “Hm? What did you toss in?” Joyce asked Michael as he walked back from the small shed to his seat. “You’ll see!” But she didn’t see. Not until she felt it first. A sudden gush of water shot like a weaponized faucet at Joyce, starting at her midsection before traveling up to her chest and part of her face. Now Joyce was shouting in protest, shielding herself with a hand. Emily couldn’t stop laughing, now a super soaker in arms. Carol looked to be in love with the spectator’s seat right then, quietly stepping into the shallow end of her own accord. Joyce though put a hand on her hip, assessing the challenge before her. Not a moment more passed until she came diving into the water. A war had begun. “C-c-can we g-g-g-go back in th-the water?” Emily pleaded with chattering teeth, wrapped in a towel standing beside the outdoor table. “Unfortunately, the one drawback to having the heated pool,” Carol agreed with her own slight shivers. “BrrrRRRrrrrRRRrrr!” Jackie exclaimed with giggles, flapping her lips. Next, she started to open and close her mouth in exaggerated motions as she bared her teeth. “Look!” She excitedly grabbed Emily’s attention. “I can do it too!” She kept opening and closing her mouth, making sure to touch her teeth together each time. “D-do what?” Emily asked, looking puzzled. Michael chuckled, hoisting Jackie into the air from behind. “She means being a goofball. Looks like this little sea monster’s all pruned!” He said before playfully grabbing her hand, touching all her small, wrinkly fingers. Still, Emily moved over to Joyce to complain. “Why didn’t we bring those big towels?” She whined. “The ones that are big on me?” Joyce, who was getting the last few strands of wet hair away from her face, gave her an amused smile. “Duly noted, but those are our bathroom towels?” She reminded in a way to insinuate that the laws of the land did not permit such things. “Maybe they make those cape towels with the hoods for adults, too…?” And in that moment, before Emily even thought to oppose such childish things, her mind immediately leaned on the convenience of it. “Oh! Maybe we could ask Amy?” Joyce suggested. And this time, it wasn’t her putting on airs to get a rise out of Emily. “I just need to bring two towels next time...” Emily left it at that. “But until then, somebody needs to make like...an air heater or something. If they can heat a pool, they should heat all the outside stuff around it.” Every adult except for Emily within earshot - so all of them, raised an eyebrow. “Like a...heater?” Michael asked with a small laugh. Emily’s eyes lit up. “Yeah! Like that! Only...” She paused to realize what she was saying. “...Nevermind.” With another laugh out of the way at Emily’s expense, a new topic came up. “Oh, are you planning to have lunch with us?” Michael asked the two. “I know I didn’t give much info over the phone, but that’s what we were planning for.” “As long as we aren’t cutting into your time elsewhere,” Carol added. “Stay!” Jackie commanded, yet in truth disguised by her childlike tact, begged. “Please! Please!” Emily and Joyce shared a brief “why not?” kind of look before mutually nodding. “I don’t see why we wouldn’t?” Joyce decided. It was a resounding joy from the family of three, some more vocal than others (Jackie). “I think I’ll take me and Jackie in first, then,” Michael said standing from his chair. “Less hair on our heads to deal with. Have fun, ladies!” He bid them a temporary farewell as he ushered Jackie along and back into the house. Carol watched them leave with a smile before looking back at them. “Thank you, you two, for playing along with Jackie like that.” Emily smiled and waved it off. “Michael said the same thing; I don’t really mind.” “We don’t really mind?” Joyce butted in with a grin, making Emily feel apologetic. “Sorry...forgot.” Her sheepish attitude naturally gave the other two giggles as they sat down in the chairs while wrapped in towels. “Carol, I hate to admit it, but it’s been eating away at me…” Joyce looked at her with tingles of interest. “What kinds of businesses were you talking about?” Carol nodded, but glanced at Emily for just a second. “Joyce, I don’t mind talking about it, but awfully bold of you when Emily has you on a leash, remember?” Joyce gave Emily what could only be akin to her own version of puppy dog eyes. With an upturned nose and an exaggerated ‘hmmf’, Emily turned her head. “Do as you please! I tried!” With her liability out the window, a corporate war spawning in the simple backyard of a suburban home was no longer her fault. She tried. With her daydreams out of the way though, Emily listened on with a bit of her own curiosity. “Now I feel a bit on the spot...” Carol pretended a nervous laugh. “But, really, it’s nothing as crazy as you think. I’m not some kingpin with a monopoly on the underground drug trade, or anything!” Emily and Joyce laughed, although inside Emily’s mind, a small voice seemed to tell her that the depths of business had no end in sight… “Like I said earlier, I tend to help build up...niche businesses in...niche markets.” Carol explained, albeit cryptically. Emily looked a little shocked before muttering, “D...drugs?” “No! Absolutely not!” Carol dismissed it entirely as Joyce was in stitches and Emily with reddened cheeks. She sighed before her smile came back in full. “Niche doesn’t mean illegal, you know!” She laughed herself despite the push-back. “To be honest, it sort of feels weird to talk about it with anyone outside the business, I suppose...” She pondered her own words for a minute. “Even to my own husband, he finds it strange, understandably.” “Well?” Joyce edged her along. “You’ve definitely built up the suspense now if you hadn’t already?” Carol briefly smirked, yet sighed as she opened it with a preliminary question. “Well...I guess for starters… Do either of you know what a...erm...fetish is? Like a kink or something?” Had the spectral plane been visible, an arching, static shock would have flashed the mother’s eyes as it sprouted between the two heads before her. Emily and Joyce almost simultaneously felt an odd jolt, as if they’d just seen an old friend from an old life suddenly trying to integrate with the new. In other words, it was a sudden sense of discomfort. “Mm...I think I have an idea?” Joyce gave her head the slightest tilt, opting for the sweet, plain vanilla, ignorant role. “I’ve heard of it before...” Emily muttered, “...I think?” Yet in truth, if there had ever been a pep talk to be had before situations like these, bless Emily, but Joyce would ask her to simply say nothing at all. Emily trying to lie about anything even remotely close to her interests, meaning sensitive emotions were involved, was nothing short of wishful thinking. But maybe Joyce was being too over analytical because Carol didn’t comment on it. “Well, I don’t want to go into much detail, for...reasons, but the gist is basically a specific theme, practice, idea - virtually anything, to be honest, that people might take to in a sexual sense.” “Like...roleplay?” Joyce suggested, once more playing the innocent facade. Carol nodded. “That’s an example of it. I’ve heard it can even be on the tamer side… But I’m getting off track. From a business perspective, market potential within any group of consumers is almost always going to be less than the actual size, and the same thing applies to these groups of people tending to their...respective kinks.” Joyce nodded, but Emily only blinked with a neutral look. It was almost surreal for the girl right then, imagining a conversation that involved Joyce, business, and diapers, quite easily two of her favorite things. But in the same sentence? Saying that Carol was talking about diapers definitely was a stretch, but didn’t it fall into that category of kinkdom? It could, but the more Emily thought, maybe not for them…? Meanwhile, in Joyce’s head she was experiencing something a tad bit different. Business and kinks; broad topics she wouldn’t mind peering into. That being said, what she and Emily had...she didn’t see it that way. It wasn’t a momentary pause for her to get her rocks off; Emily either. Joyce didn’t baby Emily for sexual pleasure. No, the much more adult side of things came from their relationship as adults. What they did as a mommy and daughter remained much more pure. Well...remembering their first “trial” night with Emily in diapers nearly made Joyce visibly frown. Unfortunately she crossed a line, trying to “rub” the pleasure into Emily via a wet diaper. Never again… “...And so,” Carol tuned back into their ears, “It works out that supporting many smaller...niche businesses, turns a good living. But, if anyone asks, I’m just a general investor.” She finished with a motion to lock her lips. “...You mentioned roleplay being a kind of kink,” Joyce said, “but what other kinds have you seen in your work?” “Well...” A breath of air escaped Carol’s lips as she thought. “One place was a ‘costume’ shop,” she said in air quotes. “Don’t get me wrong, it was -- high quality costumes, even, with...props. But meant for bedroom play, I guess.” Joyce nodded thoughtfully, though with a look that expected more. “Have either of you heard of something called B-D-S-M?” Carol asked. Emily was the first to nod, but Joyce came a bit slower. “See? Then you already know one kind of kink,” Carol chuckled. “But anyway, it’s of course something couples tend to do in the bedroom and at home, but there are gathering spots for stuff like that. These kinds of places charge you maybe a flat fee or an hourly rate to have access to their themed rooms, props and toys. They have a very...straightforward kind of name? Dungeons.” All things considered the specifics were spared, though even at the level they were Emily wasn’t entirely vocal about what she thought. Only to Joyce had she even mentioned a word about their own kind of play, yet now she was seeing it to the same degree, only in a business sense with a woman she’d just officially met. “Dungeons?” Joyce raised a brow. “I guess that matches the fantasy theme?” Carol’s eyes lit up as she drank from her glass. “Good point! Never thought of that! Oh! And another one -- it didn’t pan out, but there was this store having to do with giant animal costumes and fur...” It was an example that truly rang no bells for either Emily or Joyce, hence their confused look. “But I think you two get the point,” Carol transitioned with a wave of her own clouded mind. “Well, if I ever think of sprouting my own business like that, I’ll know who to call?” Joyce grinned. “Please, give me a call and every cent I can invest is yours!” Carol begged with a laugh. “Frankly I wouldn’t want myself at the head of that kind of operation,” Joyce spoke reflexively. “It goes without saying since I’ve said it once, but all that kind of stuff is beyond my scope of knowledge...” “But what it sounds like is investing yourself wouldn’t be off the table?” Joyce shrugged in defense of her opportunistic nature. “What can I say? If it looks promising...” “If you’d like, I’m attending a dinner party a few weeks from now? If you really are serious, I can put you through to some serious business opportunities?” “Oh? They just let anyone come? Especially for such...private stuff like that?” Joyce asked skeptically. “No, they don’t,” Carol said, “which is interesting in a way, considering vetting your investor pool is like shooting yourself in the foot... But it leads to a healthier relationship, knowing that there’s some mutual understanding to begin with. Either way, my word should go far enough to vouch for you.” “So it’s settled, then?” Joyce had a slightly giddy look, to which Emily rolled her eyes at. “Oh? Trouble in paradise?” Carol grinned with her eyes on Emily. “What?” Joyce whined at Emily defensively, to which she sighed. “When I said no business talks in the car, I was mostly kidding, but I didn’t actually expect you to do business while we were here!” “Uh-oh, somebody’s in trouble!” Carol laughed. “It would appear so...” Joyce agreed. “How about we exchange numbers before we leave after lunch?” “Sounds like a plan.” Carol nodded. Joyce looked back at Emily who was quiet, yet obstinate. “What?” Joyce exaggerated. “Not happy with that?” “Outta sight, outta mind...” Emily relented with her own smile. “No! They can sleep over!” Jackie begged as she continued to tug on Carol’s pants. Michael and Carol were seeing Emily and Joyce off at the door, but their time spent at the residence was the perfect amount for the once shy little girl to finally warm up to her guests. Emily tried to be the gentle voice of reason. “Jackie, as much as we’d like, we didn’t bring any PJs?” “I have some!” Jackie was quick on the rebound with hope in her eyes. Emily had tried, and her mouth hung slightly agape, finding her own response just as obvious...yet hard to place. Michael and Carol naturally stood above their daughter, smirking as their daughter tried to fight for the impossible. “Goes to show how much Jackie sees you two as friends more than just grown-ups.” Carol laughed. “Jackie, I don’t think they’ll fit in your PJs, sweetheart...” Michael said to her. “They can use Mommy’s!” Jackie then shifted tactics. “Joyce’d probably be fine...” Carol quietly remarked, though her words had been all used up once the unspoken said quite the opposite about the smaller Emily. “Not the point, though! Jackie, Emily and Joyce have their own home to get back to. We’ll see them again.” “Soon?” Jackie dearly asked. “Soon.” Joyce answered for Carol. “When?” Certainly, this girl did not seem to skip a single beat. “Alright,” Michael cut in, hoisting Jackie into the air. “Enough twenty questions out of you, missy.” “But I wanna know~uh!” Jackie whined in an exaggerated tone. “And you will once that information is declassified, private.” Michael asserted in a general’s tone. “What’s dee-classih-fide?” “I’m afraid that’s classified.” And then the frustrated giggles ensued, seeming to shift Jackie’s focus away. Carol came to their rescue, seeing them out the front door while Michael had Jackie in arms. “Bye Michael, bye Jackie!” Emily waved, and so did Joyce. “Thanks again for having us,” Emily said to Carol as they walked down the steps and over to the car. “Don’t even mention it. In all honest truth, it was mostly our daughter that kept a fire lit under Michael all week, so I’ve heard. She would not stop talking about you, Emily!” She laughed. “To be honest, I didn’t really know what to expect meeting you two, but I’m really glad for us to have met.” “Michael and I had talked about meeting again, but I guess it was sort of half-hearted at first?” Joyce similarly agreed, feeling less shy about admitting her reservations now. “Same here though, I’m glad this worked out.” “Glad you got business...” Emily murmured from the corner of her mouth. Joyce with a rosy smile gave a little giggle as she continued to face Carol. “Jackie’s such a nice kid. I’ve seen too many that have no real discipline... And speaking of which, I need to go give some to Emily after all these snide comments she’s been making to me today?” “Hah?! What?” Emily stammered. “Honestly, you two can’t catch a break, can ya?” Carol cracked up. “Anyway, Joyce, we’ll be in touch. Emily, lovely meeting you the proper way this time! Hope to see you both again soon! I better get back inside before Jackie can wriggle her way back outside. Drive home safe, you two!” And with Carol seeing them off from the steps as they pulled away, the get-together was over. “That was fun,” Joyce was the first to say. “Would it have been fun if you didn’t get invited to an investor’s dinner?” Emily cracked. “Of course it would have.” Joyce answered plainly. Then, after some pause, “Just...without some glow to it...” “Uh-huh?” Emily giggled before her tone made a slight shift. “More importantly though, I can’t believe what kind of work Carol does...I sorta got the chills when it hit so close to home...” “You too?” Joyce chuckled. “Gosh, it’s somewhat of a joke, but it seems like even when we take every kind of precaution, that kind of stuff always seems to find its way back to us...” “Haunting of the babydom...” Emily sighed, already with an imaginative name in mind. “And hang on, that investor thing Carol invited you to, are you really gonna go?” “I don’t see why not? Maybe I’ll find something I find interesting.” She wasn’t well-versed in kinks, and especially not when it came to business. “Yeah but it’s all kink stuff… All I mean is that you tend to mention about keeping the really sensitive stuff private and separated from your career. Wouldn’t it be bad for your reputation if someone recognized you there?” In a world where Emily had no shame, the only thing stopping Joyce from giving Emily a leisurely diaper change wherever they may be in public was guarding her own business image… And Emily’s own embarrassment, of course... Joyce nodded thoughtfully. “It could certainly cause issues, but being called out as an investor for that type of thing wouldn’t necessarily be damaging. Slightly surprising, at best. I thought about it a little more, but it’s a good thing that they vet their investors for these kinds of things. Not only does it keep interests at heart, but it does add a layer of privacy to it.” “As long as you’re okay with it.” Emily said back, holding Joyce’s wellbeing above all else. From the driver’s seat she smiled and with a free hand squeezed Emily’s thigh. “Thank you for worrying about me!” Emily puffed her cheeks with a slight blush as she turned her gaze to the passenger window. “Well...you’d do the same for me...” “Absolutely. No matter what.” Both sat on either end of the corner to the couch in the living room, sharing in the silence, save for the faint noises from the city streets far below. Joyce and Emily seemed pensive as they sat there, somewhat formal and struggling to figure out what they wanted to say. “I figured this’d be a good time as any to set us back on track...” Joyce said. “Mm.” Emily nodded. “Emily, I--” “Wait!” She blurted out, cutting Joyce off. “I...I wanna make it very clear before we talk about this stuff. I know you’re a lot more worried about how we do this now...and you being my mommy… But, I said it before: whenever I was being your baby, I never had any real issues with it. Nothing I wanted to address. What I wanted to make clear was when we weren’t in that headspace, sometimes it’d feel like it bleeds over. So, I don’t wanna put any limits on what we do when we’re intending to do it. Just...outside of that space.” Joyce held a look of silence and surprise, taking it all in, right until she burst. “Hah...thank goodness.” She sighed with relief before collapsing somewhat into the couch. “I said so before, didn’t I?” Emily reminded, scooching a little closer across the couch. “You did, but...I dunno, part of me still thought we might have to reshape what we intended to have. But no,” she sat back up straight, looking more serious. “I completely agree with you. I don’t want you taking any responsibility for this; it’s my fault for being too...motherly when I’m not being a mother, but a girlfriend.” “However,” Emily raised an important finger into the air. “Let it not be confused with being cutesy,” she explained in a professional, exaggerated manner. “The defendant is more than allowed to continue that.” Joyce couldn’t stop laughing. “Duly noted! No more jokes right now though, I want to treat this seriously. It’s important to me that we both feel like we’re respecting each other's boundaries. Emily, at the end of the day you are my number one priority, so what you say goes. I promise to do better when we’re both acting like adults, but I don’t want you to hesitate in calling me out when I’m doing something I shouldn’t be.” “Just call you right out?” Emily asked. “Yes. I don’t want to put you in an awkward spot.” “But...I guess I was thinking about that too. I guess you could call it a safeword, maybe...” A safe word, meant to be the hard stop or red switch that’d cease any type of kink play. “You want a safeword?” Joyce asked, neutral in tone, but truthfully with her own sort of reservations. In her mind that kind of association almost immediately tainted what they had. In any other case it made perfect sense and she saw no harm, rather, encouraged it. That was for kinks and fetish play though. Was that what Emily saw this as…? “Sort of...” Emily answered. “But not for when we’re a mommy and baby!” She quickly corrected herself, remembering just what they had meant to Joyce. “If there was ever a problem then, we can just talk to each other in the moment… I mean a safeword for when we’re in public, when we are just Emily and Joyce. Maybe a discreet way of letting you know that you’re doing something that bothers me…or when I’m bothering you. “So a safeword...for when we’re both adults?” Joyce clarified, a bit confused, seeing that to be the exact opposite scenario where you’d want to have a hard-stop like that... In any other traditional sense, wouldn’t the safeword be in the private sector and the casual talks in the public one? Joyce tried not to crack a grin. It was only Emily that could come up with something as out of the box as this...But as odd as it was, maybe their unique relationship thus far is what seemed to make it click for Joyce. “What do you think?” Emily then asked, looking self-conscious. “I guess I kind of agree that I don’t readily like a safeword either, especially when you’re my mommy...it makes it feel like it’s something less than real...and I don’t want that.” “I think that’s a good idea,” Joyce smiled. “It gives me a safe reminder and it doesn’t affect what we already do.” It was then a moment of mutual relief. Both had been dreading the “talk” up until now, but like most suspenseful moments, it overshadowed the reality completely. Now in place of that inhibiting and awkward knot that had seemed to bog them down since Mary and Frank’s visit, was a feeling of liberation. Everything was right again, and maybe after such trials and tribulations they were stronger because of it. Emily couldn’t hide her excited smile. “...Mm...but...” Joyce started with a difficult expression, to which already rained on Emily’s parade. “Huh? What is it?” She asked. “Well, I know what we both want, and we’re definitely on the same page...but, I guess I just want some extra clarification as to what you want.” “What I want?” Emily mimicked. “I want the usual stuff...what you want.” Joyce furrowed her brow, tutting like a detective without all the clues. “Yes, and I completely understand that. I suppose I just need something verbatim. I want to hear clearly what you want, Emily.” And for a moment the corners of her mouth perked up, immediately confirming Emily’s suspicions. “D-directly?” Emily stuttered slightly, suddenly feeling much less forthcoming about her desires. Already she was in Joyce’s trap. Joyce’s expression lit up, making approving noises as she nodded her head attentively. “Yes! Just let me know what you want, and that’s what we’ll do.” Emily narrowed her gaze, thinking before she answered. “...I want what you want...” Joyce chuckled, in the sort of way that Emily could tell was partly forced, but also spurred by amusement. “I know you do, silly! But, I need something a bit more specific to go off of? After all, I want a lot of things?” She didn’t bother hiding her grin this time. Now things were starting to feel familiar, namely because of how hot Emily’s cheeks were feeling. “F-fine...” She paused for a deep breath. “I-I...I want you to...” She murmured something intelligible at the end. “Hm?” Joyce leaned in. “I didn’t quite hear that last part… Could you please repeat that for me?” “I said I want you to ba…--...me...” “Emily,” Joyce attentively said in a soft, yet authoritative voice, “louder, sweetheart.” “I said I want you to baby me!” Emily finally shouted back. “Ohh, I thought that might’ve been it!” Joyce planted a fist in her palm as if the lightbulb only shined just then. “Of course I’ll baby you, silly!” Joyce feigned another laugh whilst Emily looked to be just as flustered as always. Emily was simply glad to have gotten through the spectacle. Once again, a hard lesson learned when it came to thinking she could tease Joyce and get away with it unscathed. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. Balance was restored, at least… Then, Joyce rose a finger to her chin, humming a thought. “Mm...but...” But? Emily felt a brief moment of fear, surprised by the continuation. “Maybe I’m being the silly one!” Joyce laughed. “I think I may have forgotten what you like about me babying you...” She put her hands together as if making a request of Emily. “Could you possibly remind me some more?” Emily’s eye nearly twitched. This woman didn’t want equilibrium, she wanted domination. “I like it when...you call me by my nickname...” “Your nickname?” “E-Emmy...” “Emmy! Of course!” Again, Joyce pretended to have a revelation. “Such a cute name for such a cute girl! And? What else?” What else? Emily internally groaned. Was she really going to put her through this? “When you make me my special drink...” “Uh-huh! Served up safe and secure in your ba-ba~! Anything else?” “When I get to wear cute clothes...” “Anything you wear is cute!” Joyce chuckled. “But I get what you mean.” She still gave the look that expected Emily to continue. “When I get big stuffed animals...” “Mhm?” “When I get my own special seat...” “Your high-chair?” She smiled. “When you force me to take naps, even when I don’t wanna.” “Otherwise you’ll get cranky.” Joyce passively commented. “When you give me baths.” “Cleanliness is prettiness!” “And...when I call you Mommy!” Emily said with a sudden outburst, catching Joyce a bit off guard. Though, Joyce quickly softened into a warm smile. “An absolute given and inalienable rule.” Joyce smiled wide. “Now come on, what’s the last one?” Emily’s bravado was gone hearing that. Somehow, she knew that Joyce knew, or it meant that they were thinking of the same thing. “And I like...” “Like...what?” Joyce asked. “...Diapers...” “Diapers?” “I like wearing diapers!” Emily said. “When you check and change me...” She was feeling lightheaded. In an aggravated tone she said, “I’m sorry for teasing you! Is that everything you wanted to hear?!” Joyce scooched even closer, pulling her into a hug as she giggled. “Everything and more!”

30 - It's just Soda “Emmy, hun-bun, come on!” Joyce called by the front door. She was already dressed in her heels, slacks, blouse and donned a black overcoat. With a handbag slung over her shoulder and a hand actively supporting the strap, she was clearly ready to go at a moment’s notice. “Coooming~!” A loud and earnest kind of voice replied from the other side of the apartment, sounding much more direct than a typical person might. It didn’t carry the baggage of stress or overcomplicated thought, seemingly unfiltered in its unbridled nature. Joyce tried to purse her lips, though the day’s events were a bit too exciting to keep up a front. Her stern attitude sputtered into a grin as she failed to hide a smile. Though, trying to take her little girl’s word for what it was, her heels clicked across the hardwood floor as she made her way to the kitchen. The sound of a fridge opening and closing, followed by the slunking and shifting of aluminum as it swung little by little from the plastic handle secured in Joyce’s hand. Just then a blur of black hair, plaid and plastic crinkles raced by Joyce like sound itself. “I gotta go get my lunch!” The girl shouted on her way by, nearly slipping and sliding with each step from her socks. Though, if Emily moved like sound, then that’d put Joyce at the speed of light, who with her other free hand caught Emily by the scruff of her collared shirt. “Not so fast, speedy pants. Already got it.” Joyce handed her the lunch box with a smile. Rather than taking it by the handle, Emily happily received it with both hands. “Thank youu~!” Emily smiled a toothy grin as she looked down at the painted design. Rainbow kitties, stylized in the cartoon sense, exploding in all directions from the corner like a nuclear weapon of cuteness; so cute that if the Geneva Convention were a matter of emotional warfare, you might find this lunch box on it. Though, potential war crimes aside, Emily’s grin as she looked down at it turned into a puzzled, or complicated expression. Now Joyce wasn’t finding it so hard to suppress a smile. “You said you liked that one, didn’t you?” “I do...” Emily muttered, maintaining her judgmental look at the lunch box. Joyce raised a brow. They’d spent nearly twenty agonizing minutes at the store trying to pick out the “perfect” lunch box. Even if it was feasible, out of principle and values, Joyce was steadfast in limiting Emily to one lunch box only. Ultimately, it had come down to the rainbow kitties or super hero monkeys, and they made doubly sure to confirm it was the one Emily wanted… “We spent nearly half an hour,” spare Emily the facts; embellishment seemed appropriate, “picking out the right lunch box, didn’t we?” Joyce put a hand on her hip, lightly scolding her. Emily kept her gaze toward the floor, puffing her cheeks the ever slightest. She dragged out her words as it fell on the cusp of a whine, akin to a toddler’s pout. “Uh-huh...” “Besides, didn’t you say you liked the kitties?” Joyce’s words gave her something simple to grasp onto, a talking point she could easily spring her simple desires from. “Yah, but the monkeys were--!” A finger was pressed to her lips. “Honey, we’re gonna use this lunch box for now, okay? If you really don’t like it a week from now, we can talk about getting a different one, alright?” But truthfully, Joyce figured a matter as serious as the design on Emily’s lunch box to be as minor as whether she needed Crayola or MotzArt brand crayons, given the same amount of time to take its course… “...Fine...” She continued to pout as her arms fell by her sides like weights tied to rope, the lunch box hanging from her hand. “Ah-ah?” Joyce tutted, clearly wise to the beginnings of a tantrum. “What was that?” Emily looked at her sheepishly, already with a change in expression, closer to fear, incited by the tone Joyce took with her. “N-nothing!” Joyce had been through this many times with her. Particularly it was never about the words Emily used, but rather the tone she chose to use them in. “Come on,” Joyce smiled, deciding to table the reminder for good behavior, believing she’d drilled enough of that already. “We still need to get your sneakers on!” Emily was the first to scurry to the shoe area, already lighting up at the sound of another new accessory of hers. Swish swish swish. Joyce couldn’t help but have an elated feeling well within her. It was always her running that sounded the cutest… She trailed behind, thinking fondly of how their current lives were, fantasizing about-- “--Emmy!” Joyce half-shouted, though a bit more urgent and surprised than anything else. Emily, on all fours as she scours the slate floor, shoes strewn all about, turned her head back to Joyce, completely oblivious to what the matter might be. “Huh?” “Don’t you ‘huh’ me, missy!” Joyce tried to sound direct, though it was no secret she had a low tolerance to Emily’s cuteness. “You can crawl on the wooden floors inside the apartment, but not the shoe area! Your pretty outfit is going to get dirty!” A pretty outfit and being dirty were two concepts fundamentally at odds, hence why a ghastly expression overtook Emily’s face, as she practically sprung off the floor like it was lava, bending and leaning over to inspect herself like a spider was crawling underneath her skirt. “Am I dirty! I didn’t mean to! I wanna look nice for the first day!” And all subsequent ones to follow, ideally. And in her panicked motions, she managed to flash her skirt as she tried to do the impossible in looking at the back of it by turning 180 degrees, expecting it to be waiting for her. “Nope, clean as a whistle.” Joyce determined from the side, able to see her from every angle in her rapid motions. Though, in being able to observe from afar, she could feel her own suspicions about something else on the rise… “I was just tryna look for my shoes...” Emily explained in a mumble, interlocking her fingers bashfully. True to her word, unfortunately, Emily had been looking for her shoes. What was once a land of peace and order, happily married pairs of shoes had been cruelly separated and torn apart by the manic hands of the toddler tyrant known as Emily. With every shoe either acquainted with themself or another random mingler now, flung all over the shoe area, Joyce could only sigh, having no one to blame but herself for expecting such a high strung girl to be anything but that on her first day. “We put them in one of the shoe bins, honey. Remember?” Joyce spoke with a kind and gentle tone. But before Emily could give anything else the “Midas effect,” Joyce slid one of the cloth bins out from the 3x3 shelf of cubbies, revealing a pair of bright pink and white sneakers. A squeal of joy erupted from the younger-seeming girl as she eagerly bounced on her heels as Joyce took them out. “I wanna put them on! Let me do it!” Emily eagerly begged, though already sitting herself down on the edge of the wooden floor as she kept kicking her feet. “Let me show you how to do the first one, okay?” Joyce said, rather than asked. Tearing velcro filled the immediate area as Joyce pulled off the strap, grabbing the tongue of the shoe and stretching and flexing it some, just to begin that broken-in kind of feel that’d help her foot fit in easier. And as a pair Joyce fed Emily’s foot into the sneaker, whilst Emily pushed forward with hers. Though, what was its own form of cuteness was her overcompensated form of coordination, because even though it had no reason to, Emily’s other leg stuck out nice and straight too, as if she couldn’t operate her legs separately. But either way, there was that satisfying push beyond the horizon once the foot slipped in nice and snuggly. Still being new shoes, Joyce patted the bottom of her clean sole, indicating to put her foot back down. “Now make sure you pull the strap out to tighten the shoe, okay?” Joyce instructed while she performed, keeping the explanation simple and clear. “Then when you feel like it’s snug enough, fold it back over and on top of the other strip.” She finished the first shoe for Emily, as promised. “Not too tight?” Joyce asked. Emily shook her head. “Good. Now show me what a big girl you are and do the second one.” Joyce initiated the little test by setting the second shoe by her foot. Earnest and eager, Emily took the other shoe and tried to imitate Joyce’s actions, albeit a much more abbreviated approach. She didn’t take the care of undoing the velcro strap, nor trying to make the shoe any roomier beforehand. That, and she held the shoe in such a way that she wasn’t doing her foot any favors in trying to push it in. After a couple seconds of grunting frustration, Joyce stepped in. “Do you want a little help?” “Y-...yes please...” Emily muttered, dropping the shoe back down with a blush. She crossed her arms annoyingly so. “Come on, now, you’ll get it...” Joyce gently encouraged. “Let’s do this one together. How about I get the shoe on you first?” Undo the velcro strap, flex the tongue, slide it onto Emily’s foot. “Now it’s your turn.” Joyce had her take over. “Pull the strap out and up, right until you think it feels snug enough. Got it? Good. Then, bring it back over and put it right on the fuzzy strip. And...there! Good job!” Joyce gushed with overenthusiasm, showering her with praise. Emily sat there as she shuffled her hands between her legs, too silly to contain all that influx of praise and pride into such a tiny body. “Such a good girl,” Joyce said once more. “And before we go, I just need to check one last thing...” Emily watched innocently as Joyce leaned in closer to her, but her look changed into a frown and a blush once Joyce flipped her skirt. “Mommy!” Emily complained in a strained voice. She looked to jump a little in place as Joyce did something between her legs. “I’m sure you don’t want to leak on your first day of daycare, honey?” Joyce spoke as she slipped her finger between Emily’s inner thigh and crotch of her slightly yellowed diaper. “Only a little...” She commented to herself, pulling it back out then fixing Emily’s skirt. She stood Emily up, slipping a pink backpack over her shoulders. Damn, she looked cute. Joyce would be hard-pressed to have any more compliments for the other kids combined compared to the endless ones she had for Emily. “Let’s review...” Joyce muttered some more to herself. “Dressed, lunch box, shoes, change of clothes, checked her diaper...” At the end of her list, Joyce’s arms fell at her sides. She leaned down to kiss Emily on the forehead. “My gosh! You’re going to have so much fun!” “...Can I bring Pip with me?” Emily suddenly asked. She sounded worried, and nearing tears. Her excited expression seemed to have faded almost instantly, now face to face with reality, that being her inevitable journey to daycare. “Emmy…” Joyce started, taking a knee to look up to her with both hands on her shoulders. “We talked about this: you are going to be absolutely fine today, okay? I know the first day is always scary, but you’re going to make so many new friends and meet all the nice workers!” Having something less than a ‘yes’ was bringing on the sniffles and whimpers. “Besides,” Joyce changed her tone from encouraging to deductive. “If I’m not here, and you’re not here, who is gonna watch the house? I dunno about you, but I’d feel a lot better knowing Pip was protecting all our stuff while we’re gone. Wouldn’t you?” “Y-yeah...” Emily nodded sadly, swinging her leg aimlessly. “If you ever need to talk to me today, all you need to do is ask one of the nice ladies, okay?” Hell, it pained Joyce to think that it wasn’t a double standard. The kids got to call the parents as they pleased, but Joyce couldn’t reach out to Emily if she wanted. The parents get nervous, too… Emily nodded again, seeming slightly better, but only by a modicum. “Come on, sweetpea, let’s go have a fun day!” Joyce encouraged once more, leading Emily by the hand to the door. And as she touched the knob, she heard a faint beeping. Turning her head, Emily was gone, and the beeping grew louder. She turned back forward, and the door was gone too. So was the entire wall. All she saw was an empty void, followed by more beeping. Beep. Beep. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP! BEEP! “Nngyaa!” Joyce groaned in her bed as she finally came to. She reserved herself to lightly slapping the snooze button on her phone rather than punching it, likely the difference between a few minutes more or less of sleep, and a broken phone. She sighed, staring up at the ceiling from her bed. What a nice dream...she thought to herself longingly. So real, yet so...imaginary. Exhaling, she rolled over to find her sleeping beauty still fast asleep. “Sho cute...” Joyce spoke in a syrupy voice as she puckered her lips, kissing Emily on the forehead. “Just a few more minutes for you...” Joyce decided in a lowly whisper, carefully slipping herself out of bed. Maybe more than a few minutes, as the steamy hiss of the shower started from the bathroom. During work days, she didn’t use the main bathroom very often. As luxurious as the spacious bath was, and how fun the ceiling panel could be, it just felt like too much of a process for such a minute detail in the weekday. That, and she knew her showers needed to be quick and to the point; how could you not want to just soak in a shower like that? She sighed as she lathered her hair, still troubled by the night’s closing events, and nervous about the future… Everything is going to be fine. That’s what Joyce wanted to say, yet from her past discussions with Emily, it seemed to have wavered her certainty… Looking at things objectively, Emily losing her job wasn’t a financial loss; it wouldn’t affect their way of life or access to entertainment and pleasures. But rationally, Joyce knew it was more than that, though only to such a degree. She hated to admit it, but it felt like the first time she’d reached a point where she couldn’t fully empathize, namely because she’d never experienced this sort of thing, hence the trouble of fully grasping her loss. Joyce was trying earnestly, though her selfish part just wanted Emily to...to just shut up so she could make it all better! Under the guise of a steamy shower, Joyce let a groan escape her. Obviously it didn’t work that way, and obviously Joyce was being ridiculous. Whatever Emily was going through, it was expected and perfectly justified. That, and it was a clear reminder as to why Joyce couldn’t take the simple approach in drowning her in love and affection. It made for a great lubricant, but it made no direct effort to digest reality… What kind of recourse was there for this? She’d be lying if she said having more free time with Emily wasn’t a treat, but even Joyce knew with her limited views that Emily’s concerns vastly overshadowed a mere silver, and highly debatable, lining. A thought had crossed her mind. What if she got Emily a job at her own company? Obviously it could be done without issue. Yet, how did real estate work translate to a medical product manufacturing company? But even before that, how did she know if Emily would even accept the job? She furrowed her brow thinking about that. What was good for Emily, but not for Joyce, was her pride. Time and time again Emily had tried to refuse Joyce’s generosity, but did always concede in the end. Taking a job given to you on a silver platter, which truthfully you may not even be fully qualified for, is a much harder deal to sell… And given the way even Joyce hesitated over it, maybe it wasn’t a good idea at all. The worst case scenario would be that not only does Emily refuse it, but she’d feel insulted as well. She came back into the room with a towel wrapped around her torso and another around her hair. She watched the sleeping girl, feeling her heart ache just to watch. “How am I supposed to help you, sweetheart…?” Joyce quietly whispered, tracing her finger behind Emily’s exposed ear. Every option she had either felt like further disaster or simply prolonging an issue that shouldn’t be ignored. From Joyce’s perspective, Emily being out of a job made little difference to anything. Emily’s feelings about being out of a job was what mattered. If they could solve that, everything would be fine, even if it didn’t include getting a new one. Surprisingly, Emily began to stir on her own as she stretched in bed. She opened her eyes to see Joyce looking down on her with a sad expression. “Morning...” Emily yawned, wiping a sleepy tear from her eye. “What’s wrong?” She asked. “I’m just thinking, that’s all...” Joyce said, unwrapping the towel from her hair. “Are you sure you don’t want me coming with you today? All you need to do is give the word and I can make time fo--” “I’m fine, but thank you.” Emily started speaking and it hushed Joyce almost immediately. Joyce nodded, but didn’t look happy with her answer. You say you’re alright, but why do you have to look that way when you say it…? Emily yawned once more before speaking again, still peacefully resting her head on the pillow. “Do I have time to shower before Charles gets here?” “Of course you do,” Joyce answered without a second thought, kissing her on the temple. She stood back up from the bed to start getting dressed. “...So if we begin to consider our options on how to proceed, shareholders in mind, it’d be best that we have our teams refine the material cost for the frames...” A representative of some sort rambled from the front of the room, most executives in attendance, lined around the table. All were at least remotely attentive, however give anyone the mundaneness of back-to-back meetings for hours on end and you’d be bound to catch their attention slipping a little if not a lot. And among those heads dressed in suits, blouses or blazers, right at the very center end was a familiar brown head of hair, sitting mostly upright. Having nearly a perfect profile view of her boss, her head supported by the finger guns angled beneath her chin as she looked forward, that sense of preoccupied thought was written all over her eyes. It probably wasn’t obvious to most, but, for the money that she made, it had to be clear as day to someone like Sheila. “Ahm...Ms. Summers?” A voice politely asked, causing Joyce to take a longer blink than normal, including Sheila’s own hyper focused thought being broken. How silly of her; getting so lost in thought about her boss getting so lost in thought… “Yes?” Joyce replied in a neutral tone. Her voice hadn’t made her sense of disinterest totally obvious, yet you could tell she wasn’t fully invested. Still, her face, form and stature commanded authority. Somehow despite looking so boredly idle, there was some kind of aura or atmosphere she created. Being only a representative from one of the company’s research teams, he wasn’t quite up to snuff with experience on conversing with the higher-ups. That very atmosphere was starting to eat away at him. “I...uhm, about the material cost and efficiency for our...for the beds...” “Do it.” Was all Joyce said. The way she spoke, you’d have almost expected it to be accompanied by a hand wave just to send the poor employee off. The man nearly stuttered. “Are you sure, ma’am? It’d set prototyping back by at least--” “Then if prototyping delay is of concern, why would you propose something that would cause that exact issue?” Joyce curtly cut him off. Sheila quietly pursed her lips from the sidelines, silently typing her notes. She’s rarely seen her boss like this, but has seen enough to understand the gist. Disinterest, agitation; even from day one she would know something is obviously going on, only nowadays she’d know what to guess as possible stressors. “Well...that’s because...” Clearly she’d fried him with a simple, however curt, contradiction, seeing as it was backed by the weight of an entire company packed into every verbal punch Joyce could throw. Everyone’s gazes fully turned once the executive’s chair pushed itself back from the table, Joyce standing on her feet. She adjusted her blouse, letting out a small sigh. “Unfortunately, I have other engagements I need to attend to. Thank you for the informative presentation. You have my input, and I’ll leave it to the rest of the board to make the final decision.” Her parting words sang like the classroom equivalent of an unexcused student walking out on a teacher’s class. There were a few goodbyes exchanged in small amounts, but really no other words than that were mentioned. Joyce was the first out of the board room, quickly followed by Sheila with a laptop held to her chest while she tried to unzip the case slung over her shoulder. While working under Joyce has never been a day-to-day repeat of the last, at least within the scope of a week, a month or two, there was enough of a trend to be called predictable. Not so much a pattern to perfectly map the future, but a circle of odds she’d know she could find her boss in. But of course, just like probability suggests, if an expected outcome is not certain, there creates the possibility for an unexpected one. It happens, every once and awhile, but it’s a rare chance for a reason. But reason hasn’t meant much at all, as of late. What happened outside of her boss’ working life was generally a nonfactor. A change in mood, slight shift in her tone during her meetings; amount of overtime spent at the office. Everything was a tell for how she was feeling and doing. Most importantly, it was all by some cause within the office, within the work and business. Sheila didn’t watch in the creepy, stalker sense. Put simply, you start to notice a person more the more you spend time with them. “Sheila,” Joyce talked as they walked, “what else do I have planned for today?” The human part of Sheila rathered she herself didn’t share. Her boss didn’t seem to be in a pleasant mood right now, yet she understood the need to detach herself from the implications of her job. “An hour from now you have one last meeting with one of our partners, and until then you requested that I remind you to finish the last of next month's reports.” And out came a heavy exhale from her nose. They were headed back to her office, where she could at least destress a little. Once they reached her office, Sheila followed inside for regular debriefing which would follow after every meeting. However, what Sheila understood best about doing her job for Joyce was that sometimes, doing her best was by not doing her job at all, or at least in the way she was supposed to. So rather than a typical debriefing… “...Ms. Summers, is there anything you’d like to talk about?” Joyce sat in her desk, slumped, massaging her temples. If it wasn’t clear in the meeting, now was as evident as ever to signal her stress and how much it was plaguing her. “Sheila...” Joyce started to speak, though continued to stare off into space. “Sheila, have you ever lost a job before?” Sheila’s eyes widened. She was calm and collected, but on the inside a little panicked. “Ms. Summers, if there are any issues regarding my work ethic or ability, I can assure you that I…--” “N-no.” Joyce stammered, cutting her off. “I’m sorry; that came out poorly. You do just fine, Sheila. This isn’t about you. I...someone I know is having some trouble at the moment.” So not to make a scene, Sheila shared her sigh of relief with only herself, securely in her own head. “I see...” Sheila nodded. “Unfortunately,” yet fortunately to herself, “I can’t say that I have faced a situation like that...” A few questions pegged Sheila’s mind though. Was this friend a poor worker? Did they deserve to lose their job? Causation for firing affected levels of sympathy, for Sheila, at least. Joyce tapped her finger on the desk with a steady beat. “Though...I’d still be willing to hear you out?” Sheila offered. “...This person I know recently lost their job. It wasn’t her fault, just...unfortunate luck…” Sheila didn’t show much sign of it, though she was feeling a difficult expression. She offered to listen, though she did not promise her capability to offer much advice. “I guess I just don’t know how to help them, and it’s frustrating...” Joyce sighed once more. “Anything that I think of just doesn’t seem like a good solution.” “Well, with all due respect, Ms. Summers, in your position, I suppose I would remind myself that I can only do so much for another person at my own expense… What I mean to say is that if someone else’s grief is affecting you just as much, you may need to distance yourself.” “I can’t just do that...” Joyce shook her head slightly. Distance wasn’t an option; she didn’t want it to be. Given the full picture one might call Sheila inconsiderate, but of course Joyce wasn’t being fully forthcoming about who this person was. “She means a lot to me.” Sheila nodded her head, though remained silent. “...Would getting a new job help her feel better?” “That’s what I think...” Neither seemed fit in a position to give advice nor receive it. While Sheila held good intentions, it was unfortunately a start she couldn’t see to the end. “But that’s unrelated,” Joyce broke the oddness in the air by interrupting the note she had left it on. She exhaled again, yet her focused thought diffused into a kind smile. “Thank you for always putting up with me.” “O...of course.” Sheila answered back, reaffirming herself. “Would you like a debriefing of the meeting?” “That would probably be for the best...” Joyce said as she started to gaze out the window to her side. Though, she furrowed her brow and turned back to Sheila. “Earlier, I...think I may have came off as a tad bit grumpy...” “Another one...” she woefully demanded, brushing the other empty glasses to the side. The silent man raised a brow as he polished a glass in hand with a white rag. “Sure you wanna roll that fast?” “Another one.” Emily repeated, staring off into an endless abyss. With a sigh, he shrugged, walking over to a tap, filling the glass three quarters to the way, the difference made by frothy bubbles. And the world then through the eyes of the sorrowed, sullen girl was tinted brown as she stared through a lens of unhealthy coping and self-harm. She was so slumped over, not even her eyes stood above the glass. Her walk of shame out of the office was dreadful. Despite the deal being sealed well-before she even set foot in the building that was her former workplace, every step with her belongings in hand left behind a sense of lingering attachment; hope, that this might all be one big misunderstanding, or some kind of mistake. But, seeing as it was the middle of a working day and Emily was nowhere to be found in that building, rather a quiet bar, it said enough in the way that her incessant demand for refills spoke to her despair. There was a small bubble in her chest, and seemingly all the turmoil was causing it to swell. So much that it felt like her chest was going to burst. Soon she’d have a crater inside herself that’d leave her looking just as ruined as she felt. It was getting bigger pressing outward from every direction, soon she’d-- A loud belch came from the small woman as she flung back from her lazed slouch along the counter. No more bubble. Well, maybe she wasn’t physically being affected, but certainly emotionally so. The door to the bar opened, but Emily hardly paid it any mind. Frankly, she fit the stereotype exactly for an adult lost in midday drinking. At this point she considered herself no better than any other person equally as down in the dumps, yet that didn’t mean she wanted to wallow in her own filth. A few more drinks, then she’d go back home… Home. Emily grimaced a slight bit at that. What a freeloader she really was starting to be. “Damn, two people in the middle of the day?” Emily could hear the bartender chuckle. “Seems like today is a weird day.” “What she’s having, please.” A female voice answered back, above Emily’s head and out of her sight. She didn’t give much of a glance the stranger’s way. “Sure thing,” he replied, turning his back to them for a moment, but returning with a glass. From the corner of her eye, Emily could see one of the empty glasses she championed beside her slide a smidgen closer to her immediate vicinity. Diffracted through the glass was the sight of the woman’s hand resting on the countertop. “Thank you,” she said to the act of having a drink be placed in front of her. She lifted the cup to her lips and gave it a sip, yet quickly scrunched her face as she sat it back down. “Wait, uhm, I think there’s something wrong with this drink...” The bartender gave her a look of confusion. “Wrong with it? I poured yours from the same tap as hers.” He nodded to the dejected Emily. “What brand is it?” She asked. “It tastes like soda, or something.” He cracked a grin at her confusion. “That’s because it is.” “What?” She said back in minor disbelief. She paused to look over the carbonated beverage, then sighed as she pulled it back in for another sip. “I guess that’s my fault for trying to drink in the middle of the day...” “...Sorry...” Emily murmured from her seat, turning the woman’s gaze. “Huh? What do you mean? Not your fault I felt like teasing my sobriety a little. If anything you steered me onto the right path, so...well, thanks for that.” “Mhm...” Emily nodded, quiet apart from sipping her drink. “You’re welcome to stay quiet on the matter, but what might have you looking so glum?” “Everything.” Emily blankly replied. Half the reason she barely thought of a worthwhile answer was attributed to this person being a complete stranger. She likely wanted some tunes to pass the time while she drank. “Mm...I see.” She nodded, pausing to take a sip. “Well, what’s been the most recent thing? My husband always likes to say talking things out can help; especially for our daughter, and me. It’s crazy how those little balls of energy can manage to light their own fuse...” And Emily sat there for a moment, feeling still just as glum, but not feeling any further driven into her shell. It’s not like reliving the past could make her present day any worse in the literal sense. “I lost my job as of yesterday. I had to pack up all my things today.” Emily finally spoke, also somehow convincing herself to sit up relatively straight. She turned to look at her inquiring stranger. Ginger was the closest you could call it, albeit less fire in her hair, and her skin not so pale. Though, she radiated an odd kind of ‘Joyce’ vibe, but not the way you might expect. Rather than the matronly lover, Emily saw the business, analytical part to her. It carried that same tinge of lightheartedness, but it was safely tucked away. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she paused to sip, “what did you do?” “Nothing, I don’t think, at least...They just let me go. My whole department went…” “So they let you go? They didn’t fire you?” Emily nodded. Even if it couldn’t get any worse, this discussion still felt like she was grinding her face against the status quo. “What are you doing here?” Emily asked, suddenly flipping the script. It may seem rude, but she was willing to do anything to keep herself off the spotlight. The woman raised a curious brow. “Me?” She took a sip of her drink while keeping her eyes on Emily. “I’m on a business trip right now.” Given the odd answer which didn’t seem to agree with the facts, Emily only gave a brief nod. “Uh...huh...” “Officially, at least,” she finished her sentence, even though the time she left between her words qualified it as two separate statements. “But, from one stranger to another, if you ever hear from someone that their business trip ended early, and it’s nothing malicious, that probably means something went south...” Emily tried to look invested, yet felt still behind the eight ball. Rather, she thought more of how Joyce might be able to relate a bit more to this person. Judging by the blazer she wore, it certainly felt that way. “Sorry, I’m being vague, aren’t I?” She suddenly called herself out. “I was on a business trip meant to last a week, but one of the people I needed to meet had a family emergency. It was either spend four more days in Texas, or come home. Frankly, I can’t stand being away from my husband and daughter for too long...” She spoke while briefly reminiscing. With something finally relatable to play herself off of, Emily responded. “Sorry to hear that. Was it important business?” “Sort of; meaning, I had to see where it went before deciding how important it was. I’ll have to get back to you on that two months from now,” she chuckled. Emily made a small noise of agreement as she half-missed the humor in her leveled tone. Did Joyce ever have business arrangement issues like that? None that Emily knew of in the present day. Granted, not that Emily was much of a judge, but she wagered Joyce’s level of stature set a high standard for the working world around her. Dealings with her were probably so important, they may even trump family… “It’s likely far too early to ask, but have you considered what new job you might be searching for?” She asked Emily. “Not in the slightest,” Emily shrugged. “I worked in real estate, but it was all computer work; nothing as complicated as it was tedious...” She may have been selling herself short a little, but her kind of work certainly didn’t take a degree. After a month of training slash supervision, she was just about fully housebroken. Finally, Emily went back to her mug of soda. “Well, have you considered modelling?” Emily suddenly sputtered as she choked on her drink. Did she hear this woman correctly? “M-mo--what?” The woman hadn’t shown much of a reaction other than neutral and inquisitive. “Modelling? Posing in outfits and having pictures be taken of you? Why not?” “W-well...” Emily started, at an odd loss. The concept was so at odds with her mundane self, taking the suggestion seriously enough just to find legitimate fault with it was hard enough. “I don’t exactly think I’m model material, and...yeah, I dunno, I’m just not pretty, or whatever.” She silently mulled, now thinking to herself. Not a natural born goddess like somebody I know… The woman appeared to have listened, yet responded with a shrug. “The business isn’t exactly gated in the way you might think. Sure, looks are important to a fair degree, which you could clear, but it’s more so the financial backing you have to get yourself in the door...” “No thanks,” Emily curtly replied, finally seeing her angle. “I don’t feel like playing pretend model, and I’m not paying for any phony photoshoot...” She blinked, then chuckled. “Hm? No, no, I’m not trying to sell you anything. I was just making a suggestion, that’s all.” Emily was already flagging the bartender to pay. However, right before he stopped in front of her, the other patron called his attention. “Her’s is on me. All of it.” Emily looked over to her, confused. “What? You don’t have to pay for it; I’m not interested in your ‘business’ or whatever.” “I told you I’m not a con artist,” she laughed, “and it’s the least I could do for someone out of a job.” “Well, it’s fine. I can pay for it myself.” Emily fired back, indirectly demanding for the bartender again. Just because she was out of a job, that didn’t mean she couldn’t safely pay for some sodas. And truthfully, she’d had an excess of savings lately, seeing as she rarely found herself needing to pay for anything...Joyce. “Come on, now, there’s no need to be so prideful. You kept me from a buzz, after all?” The woman continued to insist. “Well I don’t need some haughty stranger trying to sell me a scam and buy me drinks!” Emily snapped, leaving a few bills on the counter, then marching for the exit. Everything about today sucked, and the last thing she needed to add to that were mental shakedowns and profiteers. There wasn’t room for a response as Emily was gone. When Emily walked back into the apartment she could already hear the sound of kitchen ongoings. Surprisingly, but also not so surprisingly, considering her personal outing, Joyce was home before her. “Heyo~!” Joyce called from the kitchen. “I couldn’t find you all over the apartment except for your office stuff! Didja do anything fun?” “You didn’t call me?” Emily asked, poking her head in, half of herself getting closer to communicate with Joyce, and the other trying to smell whatever was in the pot above the stove. She shook her head. “I figured you might want some alone time to yourself.” Joyce said. She kept it at that. Frankly, when she couldn’t find Emily in the apartment she grew a bit worried, but then came the reminder that she couldn’t be a complete mommy 24/7. That, and she had to learn the unfortunate truth in supporting others. Until they’re the one to call you, the best action is no action at all. Emily nodded, staying pensive, but then returned to her first question. “I went to a bar ‘cuz I felt like drinking some soda...then some weird lady tried to pay for my drinks… I’m gonna go shower.” And at that, she excused herself. Though, simultaneously, Joyce’s rosy smile was stunned as she nearwell sliced off her own finger along the cutting board. “Wh-what?!” She spun her head around. “Someone tried to buy you drinks? Who?!” Her mind was racing as she chased her into the hall. Distance? Inaction?! Who the hell thought of advice as stupid as that? She let her girlfriend drop off the grid for half a day and she’s already being fished by other predators?! Grabbing her by the shoulders, Joyce turned Emily around, looking both clueless and surprised at Joyce's worried and urgent expression. She looked starved for answers. “H...huh?” Emily cracked a confused and nervous grin. “Don’t you ‘huh’ me!” Joyce frowned. “You said someone was hitting on you at the bar! What was that all about?” Hit on? Emily furrowed her brow. “Nobody hit on me, I just said someone tried to pay for my--” “S...same thing!” Joyce cut her off. “You didn’t accept their offer, did you?” “N-no...” Emily fumbled with her response. She kept her look aimed towards the floor, trying to cover her face. And Joyce, who watched from above, seeing her mask her expression, used her acute reasoning and the will of her heart to judge the girl. “You did!” Joyce exclaimed. “N-nuh-uh…!” “Then why do you sound like you’re ready to cry? Be honest with me! I’m not mad...but I don’t want you flirting with other--!” Emily couldn’t take it anymore, and she did burst with tears, though not in the way Joyce expected. Rather than a look of remorse or guilt, instead it was gut-wrenching laughter. “E...--” Joyce was now in the dark, but affirmed herself. “Emily! It’s not funny! How could you? I thought we had…--” “Oh...oh my gosh!” Emily giggled, wiping a tear from her eye. “I’ve never seen you like this before!” “Like what before?” Joyce sounded agitated, unsure of what was going on, other than her girlfriend was laughing at her for figuring out she’d been fooling around with another woman! “So...so jealous!” Emily continued to giggle, nearly falling over, but instead falling into Joyce. “And you think cheating is funny?” Joyce bitterly retorted, not seeing the humor. “No!” Emily said with a joyous expression. “But I never cheated! They were just drinks, and I paid for them myself! You gotta let me explain!” Emily continued to laugh at Joyce’s expense, who was quickly starting to feel like an embarrassed fool. Joyce puffed her cheeks, casting her gaze to the wall. “W-well...say that sooner then!” She pouted, marching back to the kitchen whilst she dragged Emily who kept her arms around her waist. “Hahaha!” Emily couldn’t stop, “Th...thank you! This made my night!” She giggled. “And what do you mean? Buying drinks isn’t the same as cheating!” “Well I’m glad at least one of us found it amusing...” Joyce stayed playfully, though somewhat genuinely distant… Meanwhile, Emily composed herself enough to make a mental note: Joyce gets extremely jealous… And in Joyce’s head, she was very well thinking to herself, to hell with keeping the playing field mutual. She had half a mind to spank her bare bottom red, or stick that cheeky little nose in a corner for at least an hour...Though, she resolved herself to exhale through the nose. Maybe she got a little excited for just a moment… “I may have overreacted a little...” Joyce muttered. “Only a little?” Emily repeated, finding just a few more laughs in herself. Before Joyce could respond, her phone started to buzz. “You’re lucky. It was just about to be fifteen minutes in the...” Joyce started to chastise, then trailed as she looked at the ID. “Hello?” She spoke as she answered. “Oh! Michael, is that you?” While still on the phone, she shared a surprised look with Emily. “Of course I remember you! From the zoo! How could I forget?” She chuckled, as if there were never a bother in her head to begin with. “Come over? When?”