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Hi there, Long time silent follower and reader of the stories on this site. Had been thinking of writing a story of my own for a while now and the backtoschool competition gave me the motivation I needed. I envision this as being the first part of a three or four part story so not all of the context is provided at the beginning however let me assure you that the characters mentioned are eighteen years of age and older. Further background to the school and its students will be explored in later instalments. Hope you all enjoy! Mount Usher Reform School Jesse Wilson fidgeted as discreetly as she could at her desk. She desperately needed to use the bathroom and wanted nothing more than to run out of the lesson and relieve herself. However, students were not permitted to use the bathroom during class time at Mount Usher Reform School. Gently, shaking her right leg to distract from her ever-growing discomfort in her bladder and bowels Jesse contemplated her options. There was still thirty-five minutes left until the bell and she did not think she was going to be able to hold it until then so she had figured she had three choices. First, she could try to get up and leave. The problem with this however was that the six Classroom Disciplinarians standing around the edges of the classroom were watching all of her classmates intensely, searching for any signs of misconduct, and if she tried anything she knew she would be down the back of the class over their knee before she could even open her mouth to plead her case. A spanking such as those delivered by the Disciplinarians was no small thing to endure and Jesse suspected, the way she was at the moment, it was likely it would result in her having an accident. No, she thought, there was no way she could leave without disaster ensuing. Even now, she had to be careful her less-than-full attention on the lesson did not give the Disciplinarians cause to punish her. Sparing a moment to focus on the board and what Ms. Smyth was saying she was glad at least that this emergency was occurring during Maths, which came easy to her, and she was confident would be able to answer any question without difficulty if called upon. Returning to considering her problem Jesse thought that her second choice was to just attempt to hold it regardless and hope that she would be able to make it despite how badly she felt she needed to go. It was possible she thought that if she could just keep her mind off things she may manage to get through the rest of the class. The only problem with this of course was if she was wrong and soiled herself. Not only would she be humiliated in front of all her peers and the school staff, it would bring her to the attention of the sixth Classroom Disciplinarian the so called “Potty Patrolman”. Toileting problems of any kind fell under the Potty Patrolman’s remit and once that happened it was an inevitable and demeaning return to fulltime diapers. In her one and a half years so far at Mount Usher it did not matter what reason or circumstance might have led to you having an accident – whether it was an illness, bedwetting, a prank, an oversight when wiping - the moment your school approved panties were any less than pristine at the 8am and 8pm inspections you were done for. Even now as Jesse feigned attention to the lesson she could see her friend and former roommate Hazel in the front or “Toddler” row with two other girls. A simple mishap with some orange juice and now she was strapped into a highchair styled chair, though at normal height, sucking a pacifier and wearing a onesie and thick diaper – the uniform for those at toddler level. No, Jesse shook gently shook her head, she could not risk an accident of any kind, let alone a messy one, if she were to retain what little independence, she had at the Reform School. This she knew left her with a final but almost similarly inconceivable choice. Although, it was made clear to the girls that they were not allowed to leave to go to the bathroom during class and all requests to do so would be denied and ignored, if it was an emergency, they could ask to use the class potty. This was a bright yellow, child’s potty with a smiling clown face, sized for adults located in its own demarcated “Potty Zone”. The rules stated that it could be used during class up to three times in one week before you would be placed under the care of the Potty Patrolman. The only problem was that the Potty Zone was in full view of the staff and students since it consisted only of a small plinth to the side of the classroom, upon which the potty sat, and a named sign which hung on the wall behind it. The logic of the Potty Zone being that the student was not really missing class if they used it no matter how long they took since they could keep following the lesson even as they went. Thinking it through Jesse knew what she had to do. Although it would certainly be mortifying for her, she was going to have to ask to use the classroom potty. It was rare enough that any of the girls took this option because of its nature, even just for peeing, so the fact Jesse was going to use it for both number one and two would be the talk of the school for a couple of days. However, she told herself that although no one was likely to completely forget the memory, at least she would not be moved down a level, and her experience would be overlooked once someone else had been embarrassed by the Reform School. Waiting until Ms. Smyth came to a natural rest in her explanation, Jesse raised her hand. Despite the anxiety and dread she was feeling over what she had decided to inflict on herself she was glad she was mature enough to make the decision. Already it was clear that a few of her silent but deadly toots had attracted the attention of the Patrolman’s two aids who were sniffing about and looking in the direction of the Toddler and Pre-schooler rows. After a few moments Ms. Smyth noticed Jesse’s hand and called on her. “Yes Ms. Wilson, do you have a question about the lesson?” “No Miss” Jesse replied with only a slight tremble in her voice. “I wanted to ask if I may use the potty? It is an emergency”. Hearing this, Jesse felt as though the classroom came to a complete halt and now everyone’s eyes and attention was focused solely on her. Her anxiety instantly went up a notch and she could feel her cheeks going red. “Really now” Ms. Smyth said grinning like a Cheshire cat and throwing knowing glances to the Classroom Disciplinarians and Patrolman’s Aids. “Well, I suppose …” she started and then paused as though considering things while Jesse waited in desperation “I suppose you may since it is not like you to try and waste class time, and since you stated it is urgent, if, you have been paying attention. Before you go tell me what is the answer to the following problem on the board?” she said pointing to a particular question. Jesses looked at the problem. It read: Solve for X: 3x+7=22 Thankfully it seemed easy enough to her. Jesse replied “Em… the answer is X is equal to five Miss”. Hearing her answer Ms. Smyth frowned for a moment making Jesse even more anxious and distressed. She was desperately trying not to fart or let anything out to prevent herself from embarrassing herself further than what was necessary. Eventually however Miss Smyth said “That is correct. How did you get the answer?” Rapidly, Jesse replied “To isolate X I subtracted seven from both sides. That left me with 3X is equal to fifteen, then I divided both sides by three to get X is equal to five.” Seeming satisfied then Ms. Smyth said “Yes, well done that is correct answer and solution. For those of you who are struggling… I am looking at you in particular Ms. Robinson” eyeing one particular girl in the second row “take note, as similar questions will be on the test on Friday”. “Now Jesse” she said motioning one of the Potty Aids “you can go and Mrs. King will help you. Everybody else begin working on problems three to fifteen in your textbooks. I do not need to remind you that the Disciplinarians will be watching to make sure no one is daydreaming or slacking off.” Having heard Miss Smyth’s words every one of their classmates turned to their books and copies with an exaggerated fervour all determined not to be punished, however Jesse knew each of them would be attentively following her shameful performance in a few moments out of the corner of their eyes. After all she would have done the same. Who and how someone was punished or humiliated was top gossip among the students at Mount Usher. Jesse waited until the old but fierce Mrs. King proffered her hand before standing, gently taking her hand in turn and allowing herself to be led to the Potty Zone. Instead, of taking the shortest path through the rows, Mrs. King brought her to the opposite side of the rectangular classroom, up the aisle to the top of the class and then finally back down the other side to her destination. Thankfully Jesse still had the presence of mind to watch out for other student’s feet up at the Toddler row who attempted to trip her in a bid to make her have an accident – misery loves company. Mrs. King stood Jesse on the plinth in front of the potty and then began to undo her skirt which she removed after checking it and placing it to one side. She then pulled down Jesse’s underwear and had her step out of them so that she was naked from the waste down but for her shoes and ankle socks. Once she had fully inspected Jesse’s panties for any sign of accident, she placed them on top of the skirt and then taking Jesse’s hand once more directed her bottom down onto the potty – and not a moment too soon. Jesse had practically been doing the potty dance while Mrs. King was going through the proceedings. Looking up at Mrs. King, the older woman finally said “alright Jesse try going to the potty like a big girl”. This was all the encouragement Jesse needed and having been given permission she proceeded to noisily empty her bowels and then bladder into the plastic container. A great squelching noise could be heard by all as her poo hit the bottom of the potty and then a loud hissing noise. Such was her relief that in spite of herself Jesses could not help but release a sigh as this happened. It was only as she was letting out a final few small but very audible farts that seemed to resound within the hollow potty that Jesse began to feel embarrassment over what she had just done. At first, as she came back to herself, she became aware that she was half naked, sitting over her own filth, the smell of which was awful, and there was no toilet paper in sight for her to clean herself up. Then she realised that not only had Mrs. King been watching her the whole time but she could also see some grins from the Class Disciplinarians. Suddenly, she felt tremendously vulnerable and ashamed, and if she could have hidden somewhere, anywhere she would have done so. It was only that Mrs. King was still gently holding her hand that she was prevented from running out the door and sobbing. Looking Jesse straight into her eyes which were beginning to look a bit lost as she receded into herself Mrs. King said “Well done, Jesse” as though she were congratulating a two-year-old who had just begun toilet training. “I bet that feels so much better having gotten that all out. Such a big girl making it to the potty on time!” Looking over to the Toddler and Pre-school rows before looking over to the teacher she said “There are a few potty pants who could take note here as well, isn’t that right Ms. Smyth. Ms. Wilson isn’t just good at maths, she’s also very good at using the potty, isn’t she?” “She certainly is Mrs. King. That was very well done. Exactly what a big girl should do when she needs to use the toilet” replied Ms. Smyth once again with a large grin on her face. Turning to Hazel in the front row, she said “I bet you wish you could be a big girl like your friend Ms. Wilson here, don’t you Ms. Fisher? Instead of being a silly little toddler who does all her pee-pee and poo-poo in her pampers.” Turning red at being singled out, Hazel squeaked behind her pacifier “Yeth, Mwis Swmyth”. “Well, maybe you’ll get there one day, but by the looks of your diaper not for a good long time yet. You have absolutely soaked it! You are quite the little super soaker aren’t you Ms. Fisher." Looking very ashamed and on the verge of tears Hazel said again “Yeths, Mwis Swmyth”. Although, it looked as though Ms. Smyth would keep berating poor Hazel or one of the other toddler girls, at her last comment, Jesse heard someone snigger from somewhere in one of the back rows which they quickly tried to turn into a cough. Unfortunately, for them once of the Classroom Disciplinarians caught them and dragged them up out of their desk by the wrist with an undignified yelp from the girl. Even as she still sat on the potty, Jesse could see that it was Margaret Carter who had been caught and knew from her demeanour that it was probably a nervous laugh she had let out rather than a malicious one. However, now Margaret had caught Ms. Smyth’s ire. “Is there you find funny Ms. Carter about a girl Ms. Fisher’s age still going to the bathroom in her pants?” Ms. Smyth asked giving Margaret a death stare. Jesse like all of the girls in the class knew that this was one of those questions with no right answer. If Margaret said yes then she would likely be given a lesson in empathy which could end in any manner of punishment. However, if she said no then she would be asked to explain why she was laughing and if she could not give a satisfactory answer be called a liar as well. Knowing she was trapped Margaret replied “Sorry Miss, I didn’t mean to laugh but I couldn’t help it. Super soaker is what my mother calls my two-year-old brother as well.” “So, you admit then” said Ms. Smyth “that you were laughing at Ms. Fisher”. “Yes, Ms Smyth” said Margaret hanging her head in shame. “And why did you try to conceal the truth by coughing?” asked Ms. Smyth “I, I didn’t mean to laugh at Ms. Fisher, I wasn’t trying to be mean Miss. It was just the word super soaker made me laugh so I tried to turn the laugh into a cough to hide it and also to try not to disrupt the class” Margaret replied hesitantly. “I see” said Ms. Smith. “Well even if that is the truth and you did not mean to offend Miss Fisher and disrupt my class, you have certainly done that, haven’t you…Haven’t You???” “Yes, Ms Smith. I am sorry Hazel I did not mean to laugh” she said turning to a still mortified Hazel, before turning back to Ms. Smith. “I am sorry Ms Smith for interrupting your class and wasting precious learning time”. “Good. I accept your apology” said Ms. Smyth “and I am sure Hazel does as well. I am glad you recognised your fault and you did not need me to tell you to apologise. That shows maturity. However, because I will not tolerate bullying of any sort in my classroom, even by accident, Mr. Moore is going to give you a sound spanking during recess this morning to ensure you do not do so again, even accidentally, and even when it is funny that a big girl like Ms Fisher is a super soaker. Do you understand and accept your punishment?” Margaret having gone pale knowing that she would not be able to sit down for a week after being paddled by Mr. Moore, otherwise known as Classroom Disciplinarian Number 4, said “Yes Miss. I understand and accept. I’m very sorry”. “Good, and I’m sure you will be very sorry indeed missy during recess! You are lucky though that you accepted your punishment so maturely. Next time I catch you laughing at anyone in my class you are going to have your bathroom privileges revoked and then we will see how funny you think it is being a super soaker yourself.” The whole class having just witnessed this discourse never looked busier to Jesse just then, who was still sitting, half- naked on the potty. “Now where were we” said Ms. Smyth turning back to Jesse and Mrs. King. Checking her watch Ms. Smyth said “there are only just under twenty minutes left in the lesson Mrs. King after dealing with all that silliness. If you could finish helping our potty superstar with her business and bring her back to her seat so that she can continue with the lesson I would appreciate it.” With that Ms. Smyth seemingly lost all interest in Jesse and began walking down the classroom rows, checking to see how much work the students had done so far. Jesse knew from experience that Ms. Smyth would find enough mistakes that there would be at least two or three spankings given out by the end of the lesson. Still out of sorts and feeling very exposed when Mrs King asked her, more quietly this time, if she was finished Jesse could only nod her head in assent. After that, she gently manoeuvred Jesse up off the potty and turned her to the side before forcing her to bend over. Mrs. King then produced a packet of Huggies Baby Wipes as though by magic and began wiping Jesse’s dirty bottom and genitalia before Jesse could even think to protest and ask to do it herself. After each wipe had been used Mrs. King made a point of showing it to Jesse and whispering things like “so dirty” or “disgusting” before throwing them into the potty. Once she had been cleaned to Mrs. Kings satisfaction, her school approved panties were then brought back and Jesse was asked to step into them. Mrs. King then drew them up Jesse’s legs pulling them up right to the top more tightly than necessary so that for a moment it almost seemed as though she were giving her a wedgie. She then had Jesse step into her skirt and tightened it for her, before patting her on the bum a couple of times and leading her all around the room and back to her chair. It was only as Jesse sat down, momentarily relieved despite being thoroughly humiliated she had managed to avoid total long-term disaster, that she realised something was wrong. Her panties felt a little bit damp and sticky under her bum where she was sitting. Jesse hoped it was only residual dampness from the baby wipes but she feared Mrs. King had deliberately failed to wipe her completely so that when she pulled the panties back up so tightly, they would be stained. Considering this new dilemma, Jesse looked on as the potty was being taken to be emptied by the other Potty Aid in the class. With the windows open and special air conditioner working overtime it would not be long until the potty smell would be gone from the classroom, unless of course one of the Toddler or Pre-school level students had a messy accident. If her soiled panties did not give off a potty smell, Jesse felt that it was possible this issue would go unnoticed until lunch when she could quickly swap her panties in her dorm room and wash her current pair by hand. However, she feared that for some reason Mrs. King was out to get her after what she had just done and she would make up some excuse for a panty inspection before then. Suddenly, it was looking all too likely to Jesse that all the indignities she had just put herself through may have been for nothing and there would be more to come soon. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Cinnamon, Gunpowder, and Diapers Sam did not like bullets. Guns were another matter. Shooting was an art form, a skill of reflexes, coordination, situational awareness, and good ol’ fashioned talent. He, Sam Jack, was an artist. He probably took better care of his gun than he would have his wife - not that he had a list of standing offers in that department. There was no time for such things. The district office’ gun range was where he spent his off hours, and his job at the FBI left him with little enough of those. He was the best, and was constantly assigned the hard jobs – when he didn’t outright request them. His home did not even have a kitchen; there was no room after the remodel. The at-home gun range had required too much space, but of course it was important to have somewhere to practice on those nights when his insomnia kicked up. (The permitting had been a bit tricky on that one; the downstairs neighbors kept making a fuss. Clearly they did not appreciate the obvious truth: the only proper reason to own your own condo was to add a few… reasonable customizations.) But enough about that. Sam’s day was already in progress, and it was not going well. His present situation involved far too many of the aforementioned bullets. Specifically, the ones which had shattered his back windshield, left mirror, right mirror, and most frustratingly: his driver-side taillight. He had just gotten that fixed! Then there was the one which had flown by his left ear, so close that he could feel the breeze as it whizzed by. He was getting plenty of good shots in himself, mostly due to having trained to shoot with his left hand. These kinds of skills were important; one never knew when one might need the right hand free in order to steer the car the wrong way down a busy freeway, just as Sam was doing now. In that sense it was turning out to be a fairly typical car chase; he simply liked it better when he was the one doing the chasing. It had all started when he had been tasked by his superiors to guard an attractive young woman by the name of Paige, who presently sat in the passenger seat beside him. He had no idea who was trying to kill her or why; that was all above his pay grade. He simply needed to keep her alive. “Keep your head down, please,” he instructed upon noticing that she was sitting up quite rigidly in her seat. Her head was now a perfect target for the shooter in the car behind them. “What?” she shouted back. “I said,” he repeated more loudly, reaching over his shoulder to fire a couple more rounds, “to keep your head down!” He had not even heard himself over the fresh ringing in his ears, and anyway he needed to swerve just then to avoid a head-on collision. He tried making hand gestures, but then glanced back over to see Paige still sitting up. Her dark hair was mussed from the wind blowing through the broken windows. (They didn’t bother Sam as much as the tail light; he had never gotten around to fixing the air conditioner anyway.) Her back was still unnaturally rigid, and her round face held a look that said ‘not good’ as plainly as any he had ever seen. Her eyes were round as saucers, and her mouth was open in an almost perfect ‘o’. Her gaze frequently darted to his face and then away again, but she said nothing. Both hands were pressed against her slim waist. He immediately feared the worst. “Where is it?” he shouted. “Where’s what?” she yelled back. “The bullet wound! You need to keep pressure on it!” “I’ve been shot?!” she demanded with sudden horror, her voice turning into what was almost a shriek. He glanced at her, feeling his own forehead bunch up in confusion. “I don’t know! I thought… Why are you holding your stomach like that?” She looked down and back up, then did a strange almost-flinch as if the answer would get her in trouble. Her eyebrows arched slightly and she smiled a cute, sheepish smile that showed off her perfect, even teeth, made her look younger than her twenty-six years, and genuinely had no business being in the middle of a gunfight. “I, umm, just peed my diaper,” she replied a moment later. The sentence so distracted him that he almost got winged by the bullet that took out his rearview mirror. He recovered himself quickly, swerved, and made another left-handed shot out his window, taking out the last headlight of their attackers. “I hope their warranty on that light just expired yesterday,” he thought aloud. “These jerks don’t know how frustrating it can be to –Wait, ‘diaper’?” he said as he spun to face her. Seeing that same sheepish attempt at a smile in return, he turned back to the road and tried to process this. “Will it leak?” he asked. She shrugged meekly. “I don’t know… If I pee more, maybe.” He looked at her sternly but said nothing. She bit her lower lip nervously but said nothing. “You don’t still need to-” he started. “I need to pee again,” she said over the top of him. “Well, hold it!” he demanded in horror. “That’s brand new upholstery on that seat and-” “I’m trying!” The last window on the vehicle shattered from another bullet. “Can’t you… do something about that?” she complained. “Just hang on,” he said after discarding several acerbic replies he would have rather said, “we’re going to take that exit right there.” “Exit?” she said with obvious befuddlement. “All I see is an entrance ramp with more headlights coming this way.” “Yeah, that one.” Without further explanation he swerved the car violently around an oncoming truck and onto the entrance ramp. He had to swerve several more times to avoid the cars that continued to come at them. Each time they almost collided with another vehicle she flinched and grunted. “Would you stop swerving like that?” she protested at one point. “It’s making it worse!” He couldn’t take his focus off the road long enough to give her the exasperated retort he desired. “I can’t… I can’t do this any longer,” she said at one point, in a voice that sounded desperate and tired. Her hands now alternated between grabbing the cloth of her knee-length circle-skirt resting between her legs and twisting, and pressing it up against her groin. “I’m just going to-” “Hold on!” he pleaded. She had to close her eyes and concentrate for a few moments before she could speak. “I have a confession,” she said finally. “I’ve been wet for hours. I went at the restaurant, and then again in the subway.“ Her hands moved to the area of her stomach again for emphasis. “But this time it’s going to be… well I only wore my light pull-ups and…” She never finished the sentence but instead went back to wincing and grunting at every bump or turn. “Well why didn’t you…” He waved his hand around in a vague gesture. “Why didn’t I do what..?” she shot back tartly, mimicking his hand gesture in obvious mockery. “When did I have a chance to do anything about it? When we were hiding in the closet of that restaurant, running for our lives down the subway, trying to disguise ourselves in the crowd of that big parade…” She continued on like that. She might have had a point too, he grudgingly admitted. It was really hard to find a good break time when people were trying to kill you. Avoiding oncoming cars was easier now thanks to being off the highway; there were so many more options: yards, public parks, sidewalks… He had to swerve at one point to avoid a jaywalker. He shook his head in disappointment at the man. It was just so obnoxious when people flaunted the law! “Yeah, well okay, I get where you’re going with this. I do.” He sighed theatrically before turning her way -now driving through the city’s large waterfront park using only his peripheral vision. “It’s just that I’ve been busy with the whole SAVING YOUR LIFE thing! Did you notice that? Did you notice that going on at all?!” Satisfied that he had made his own point, he turned his attention back to dodging trees. He nodded with satisfaction as he did so; investing in new, five-year-warranty, all-terrain tires had clearly been a good decision! “Oof!” she protested as they hit a bump severe enough to nearly knock her head into the car’s roof. “Oh no… No I’m going to…” One more bump, and this time she made a sound that started like a grunt of pain but ended like a long sigh of relief. “Ohhhh, oh, oh gosh I’m… I’m going…“ Her body went slack as she leaned back into the seat in obvious surrender. Several sighs and a few soft exclamations of ‘oh gosh’ followed as she pointedly ignored his gape-mouthed stare. “What did I tell you?” he complained, deftly avoiding a couple with a stroller on the grass. Why did pedestrians never use the sidewalks? “I’m sorry,” she said in a tone that sounded much more relieved than apologetic. “I can’t stop… I’m going to leak…” The car behind them had closed the distance, and he knew from previous chases here (this particular park was conveniently located right off the freeway) that the boat dock was out of sight behind a large hill up ahead. He gunned it, hoping that the car behind them would do so as well, then made a hard, hard left turn right after passing the steep hillside before slamming on the breaks. Sure enough, the car behind them had floored their own pedal to keep up and did not anticipate the turn. They went sailing right down the boat dock and into the river. The source of their first problem dealt with, Sam exited the car without a word and quietly walked around to the passenger side. Getting the jammed, mutilated door to open took a considerable effort on his part, but Paige made no attempt to help. She had gathered her skirt up with her hands and held it around her waist to protect it from another, steadily growing body of water: the pool of her pee on the car seat. Her tight, red lips were tilted up on one side and down on the other as if not knowing whether to smile or frown, and her brows were gently tented above her round eyes that tried altogether too hard to look innocent. They were pulling it off too, he had to admit. Looking further south, he observed the significant bulging of her otherwise form-fitting disposable pull-ups where the overburdened absorbent padding had soaked up everything it could. The garment sported a faux-cloth style exterior that was clearly designed to look like real lingerie, and even went so far as to have little fake ribbons and bows painted around the top. Curious but not wanting to speak just yet, he reached down and pulled the front of the garment away from her waist so that he could see inside. She made no move to stop him. Sure enough, more liquid was still pouring out from her. He let go. As his ears began to recover he realized that he could even hear the low hiss of the woman’s spray as she shamelessly relieved herself in front of him. Taking a moment to calm himself, he looked over his car and took inventory of things he would need to look at. The windows were all shattered, as were the taillights. All three mirrors were in ruins, and a hubcap or two seemed to have been lost at some point. The engine was smoking ominously, and bullet holes made the whole back end of the car look like a metal sculpture of swiss cheese. “Great,” he said after a heavy sigh, resting his gaze once more on Paige, “just great… You’ve ruined the upholstery.” She frowned, and her eyes lit up with a sudden fire. “That’s what you say to me? After all that? After almost getting me killed how many times?” He made at least two attempts to protest but she simply shouted over him each time. “Your car is a pile of scrap metal, and you’re worried about the stupid upholstery??” She rose deliberately from her yellow pool, dripping on the ground a bit as she stood defiantly before him. Her hands were still occupied with holding her skirt high and dry, putting her undergarment on clear display. “No, no, no, Mister!” she barked in a tone that said she was (thankfully) coming to a conclusion. “You owe me a safe place to rest, a good meal, and…” She glanced downward and then back up as if what she said next had just occurred to her. “...And I'll need a new diaper! You may have just made this the worst day of my life, Pal, so you’d better believe that if there’s any chance at all of redemption for you it’s in giving me-” Once again he had stopped listening. Her full lips were distracting, the way all the smooth, soft features of her round face were arranged perfectly within the frame of her dark, flowing, shoulder-length black hair. The smooth roundness of her breasts and the shapeliness of her body… She broke off as he suddenly wrapped his thick arms around her and pulled her to him. His lips locked onto hers before she could object, but she made no effort to pull away. She would tell him later that he tasted of cinnamon. Cinnamon and… what was the other thing she would say? Oh yes, cinnamon and gunpowder. She would say it quite romantically too, and he would smile at the pleasant memory. The smell of her wet diaper combined with her rosy-fresh perfume in his own nostrils and made an intoxicating scent. He explored her back with his hands and her previously stiff body melted to a warm softness in his arms. “Sorry,” he said quite honestly after releasing her some moments later, “I don’t know why I did that.” Now it was his turn to stumble over his words. “It’s just that… no one else has caused my heart to flutter the way you have -or done as much damage to my car as you did- and… I guess I don't want this feeling to end.” “You don’t have to explain,” she assured him. “You loved me from the start; I know – it’s okay. I’m sorry about yelling at you like that, it’s just that-” “No actually that was kind of a turn-on,” he admitted. “Pardon? You mean, when I started verbally abusing you for saving my life, that…” “...turned me on to you even more,” he finished for her. “Yes.” She scrunched up her face haphazardly in a new expression that he took to be confusion. “I… really?” Her voice grew quiet as she seemed to be thinking out loud. “That doesn’t seem like it makes any sense, but I mean, the heart wants what the heart…” Then, in a louder, more confident voice she finished “Oh whatever, I’ll take it.” This time she was the one who pulled him close, her smaller frame fitting nicely in his arms. Once again he began moving his hands gently over her hills and valleys. He squeezed her bottom at one point, only to remember too late that it had a soaking wet diaper over it at the moment. Some of her pee escaped, dribbling onto his leg, but clearly neither of them cared. She moaned softly for a moment, and then squeezed her eyes closed for a heartbeat -as if from exertion- before squishing up her face once again and pulling away just a bit. “You don’t have to resist it,” he said gently. “Let me ignite your fire-” “No,” she said in a strained voice, “it’s not that.” She was looking at him now with that sheepish smile he knew all too well. “It’s… I still need to pee some more and… and I think I’m about to poop.” Before he could respond, several waterlogged men broke the surface of the river near the boat ramp. They had somehow managed to hold onto their guns, and he recognized the model at a glance as one which would fire even after being submerged. He let loose a heavy sigh, but the upside was that at least he was going to get shot at by people who had a respectable taste in guns. A moment later they had indeed recovered their balance and were getting a few shots off. “Hold that thought,” he instructed before scooping her off her feet with his powerful arms, one under her knees and the other beneath her upper back, causing her head to rest against his shoulder. “I know a safehouse nearby.” He took off running, effortlessly leaping across root and rock despite the added burden of carrying her, and the chase was on once again.

“Are you sure you don’t need to use the potty before we go?” Alex asked, smiling down at Clara. She was only two inches shorter than him–it wasn’t fair that he could make it clear he was looking down at her with only a slight tilt of his head–but he did it anyways. He wasn’t that much bigger than her. It shouldn’t have been such a stark difference when he just gave her a little glance. Clara knew she was thinking about their height difference to put off answering the question. When Alex said, “Use the potty,” he really meant, “Use your diaper”. Clara wouldn’t be using a proper toilet until they got to their destination, and even then, only if she kept her bunny hopps dry. If she could prove herself in control, she’d get to be a big girl during their trip. If she tried and failed, though, she’d lose all of her grown up privileges. Or, the third option, she could give up, admit she was just a baby, and then she’d get to keep a few privileges–namely, being allowed to ask for diaper changes. The train ride would only be about four hours. Clara didn’t need to pee now. She was willing to take that risk. “I’m sure,” she whispered. “Thanks.” “Alright then–we’d better get boarded!” The train wasn’t anything fancy, just rows of bench seats. They weren’t going to be on it long enough to want sleeper cars or anything like that, they just needed to travel up a few states. Alex had their luggage, all in a single suitcase, just enough stuff for their weekend. Getting seated near the back of the train, he got out two bottles of water and a bag of chocolate covered pretzels. Clara’s favorite–salty, crunchy, and sweet, she had to avoid buying them too often or she’d end up subsisting on a diet of pretzels alone. Grinning, she glanced to Alex to make sure she had permission, then tore into the bag, quickly devouring the delicious snack. Of course, all the salt and sugar made her thirsty, and she finished most of her water bottle before the train had even started moving. A little part of her knew this was a bad idea, but Alex had found the right way to override her concern about needing the potty–all it took was a little snack. The train started rolling. Alex had an audiobook, and Clara had her notebook to sketch in, and together they passed the time of the trip in pleasant, quiet company. Only an hour in, though, Clara felt pressure on her bladder. Already, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hold it the train ride. If the need had risen up that quickly, then she’d desperately need to go by the time they were halfway–let alone by the time they got to their destination. She wouldn’t be able to keep her diaper dry, then, but she might still be able to keep Alex from noticing. All she’d have to do was distract him so that he wouldn’t check her, sneak a diaper from their luggage, and go change into a dry one when they arrived. She swallowed–if Alex caught her trying to change, she’d be in serious trouble–but he might not notice. Glancing out the train window, she stopped trying to hold it. Her bladder released, and she felt the hot pee soak into her bunny hopp, quickly saturating the diaper front to back. Alex glanced over at her, and she worried she’d been caught already, but he didn’t say anything. She let it go, returning her attention to her sketch pad. Now that the flood gates had been opened, Clara struggled to hold it going forward. Her bladder started to release at the slightest need, similar to the sensation of holding her hand in warm water. She continued dribbling into her diaper, soaking it further and further as they traveled, and Alex continued to not notice. That was, until just before the train came to a stop. “Baby,” Alex said, quietly, his voice so soft that only she could hear. “We’re almost there. Are you still dry?” She hesitated–she could admit it now, and avoid getting in trouble, but if he took her at her word she would still have a chance at changing into something dry. “Mhmm,” she said. “I am.” “I’m surprised,” he said, “But good girl. You just need to hold it for a few more minutes!” She nodded. “Uh-huh, I can…mmm…” “What?” Alex asked. “Do you need to go?” She did, and she admitted as much–it’s not like that could get her into trouble. “Yeah…” Smiling, Alex reached down and–no, no, no–put his hand on the front of her diaper, beneath her skirt. “Well, if you just–baby!” Turning pink, Clara tried to invent an excuse, but all she could say was, “Um…” “You didn’t even notice?” Alex asked. “You’re totally flooded.” It was better than admitting she’d planned on cheating. She nodded, sheepishly. “I’m sorry…I couldn’t tell.” “Well then,” Alex said. “I guess that proves you’re not even a little girl, you’re completely helpless. And you know what that means.” She did. She was the baby for the weekend–not allowed to change herself, or touch herself, or even try to hold it. “But…” she said, blushing. “I…” “What is it?” Alex asked. “I need to use the potty, and we’re still on the train…” Clara said. Nodding, Alex glanced around. Nobody was sitting near them, and they’d be off the train soon. “That doesn’t matter, baby. You know the rules–and we both know you can’t hold it anyways.” Turning pink, Clara conceded defeat. She hadn’t just failed, she’d failed miserably, and was no doubt in for a lot of teasing about not being able to tell she’d had an accident. Rather than pretend she was big any longer, she gave in, leaned forward just a touch, and began to push. “Good girl,” Alex praised, patting her on the back while she packed her pampers, filling them with muck. She could do little more than push, whimper, and blush, but the praise still made her kick her legs in delight. As she finished, though, he leaned in. “I know you too well to believe your little fib, baby. Don’t think you’re not in trouble–once we get there, you’re going to have to tell everyone just what you tried to do, and then we’ll decide your punishment. Ok?” Flushing, Clara sat back and nodded. In a decimated, utterly used diaper, it wasn’t as though she could claim any sort of bigness anymore. “What are you?” Alex asked, sweetly. “I’m…” she mumbled. “I’m your baby.” Leaning over, he kissed her on the forehead. “There’s my good girl.” ... Support the author: https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

After being disappointed with the lack of ABDL fantasy-adventure stories I decided to create my own. It’s just a silly little thing, but hopefully a bit of fun for those who carry on reading. This is a prelude to the story, so just setting some stuff up here, which may or may not come into play in the future... I dunno, we'll see, might not get that far lol. Either way, the prelude doesn't really have much in the way of ABDL content, purely world-building and story. Hopefully it's still entertaining. I'm uploading chapter 1 as a separate story. This is a re-upload. After some useful comments, I've decided to just upload all the stories in a single topic, which will be updated, and that should make everything easier to follow. Episode 2 will be out in a few weeks (as of 18/12/2021). Law of the Diaper - Prelude - Embos stood at the edge of the water. It crashed far beneath her, obeying only the wind. She had been waiting for her older siblings from across the ocean for a whole hour now, standing in a harsh storm that battered and bruised the cliff face below. Liefyr, her closest brother, had gone to get the others ready. So, she stood alone. The wind howled between her ears and tugged at her hair, and threatened, occasionally, to push her into the waters below. But she was the God of Craft. Embos wore boots of Caerson Steel, strong against the wind, and light to walk in. Each of her sibling gods on this side of the world had given their peoples a gift. Hers was Caerson, a metal both bountiful and useful. Embos hated waiting like this. She needed to do something, to be somewhere, though she didn’t know what on either account. Being the eldest of her siblings, at least of those that left Panthos, Embos felt a great responsibility to the others. A responsibility to nurture and raise. Despite being closer to Liefyr, in age she was similar to her older sibling Vafyr. And that made things complicated. Damn you Vaf, she thought, thinking of the young god. Why had he stayed with the others? Vaf was the weakest of their lot, and certainly wouldn’t be treated as their peer. With Embos and the others, he would be an equal, and great guide for the people here. Her head boiled again with anger, it had been more and more recently. Anger at the war, anger at her elder siblings, anger that she had little power by herself, and anger all she had to rely on were the youngest of gods. No, not anger. Disappointment. Instantly, she felt a pang of shame within her. They are just as valuable, just as powerful in their way. She had to admit, she was surprised at how seriously they were taking it. Normally Pelyr, the youngest of them and the God of Play, convinced Ranos and Liefyr to flunk this sort of thing. Maybe it was because Pelyr would never be able to play again if they failed, that he was taking it so seriously now. Whatever the case, Embos hoped it would last. Another great gust of wind barrelled across the grass, threatening to push Embos into the sea below. Waves crashed against the shore, the ocean’s white teeth foaming against jagged cliffs below. Dull beats, like someone playing the drums, echoed into the sky. The storm whistled around her ears, singing across the ocean. It was a tune she recognised. Looking up, Embos saw her older brother, Vafyr, silhouetted in the ocean mist. He walked on the air itself, using the wind as a path to the safety of the cliff. Around him, the grey mist somehow blushed a bright blue, as if he walked in a halo of sky. It was as if he was the colour of the world. Then again, Embos supposed, I guess he is. Within moments he was stepping onto the rock as if it were still the air, floating across newly budding grass. “Vaf!” Embos couldn’t help but let relief and no small amount of joy flood into her voice. Of all the people they could have sent, this was perhaps the best possible outcome. “Hello sister.” he said calmly, a broad smile across his face betraying any stoicism he might have masked himself with. “They thought you wouldn’t hurt me, so I was sent in place of a messenger.” Vafyr walked to Embos, he was more relaxed than she remembered. “Why would I hurt a messenger? Why would any of us--” “Em, please, I don’t think you’d hurt anyone who didn’t deserve it. But that’s not how they think, is it?” Vafyr said as they walked down the shallow incline that led to the village below. Embos saw an opening. Now was the time. Now, after so many years, it was the perfect opportunity to ask. “Then why are you still--” but before Embos could finish, Vafyr cut her off. “I’m sorry, but I cannot say. I have my reasons, and hopefully you will find out soon.” “But I want to know now!” said Embos. She only realised how childish that must have sounded after she’d said it. However, Vaf didn’t seem to mind. He smiled broadly again, a glint in his eye. “Em,” he said, stopping and gently putting his hands on her shoulders. He was a foot taller than she was, towering over her. “I promise, now is not the time, but you will find out.” and that was all he said. Embos knew that was the end of it, she wouldn’t get anything else out of him. Time to move on. They continued their descent to the village. “So, why did you want to speak to us?” Embos asked, “I suppose it would be too much to ask for your loyalty?” The wind picked up again as Vafyr smiled, but the cold never came. Vafyr was too warm for that. “Unfortunately not.” he said, and then he went suddenly serious, his smile fading into what was almost a grimace. “The others want to make a deal with you.” Embos couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. “You’re kidding. After all of this?” she said though a deep, slightly hysterical laughter. “After all you’ve put us through, now you want to make a deal?!” This was utterly ridiculous. Her older siblings never, never, made deals with those who were below them. And now they wanted to make a deal with not only ‘lesser gods’ but the enemy? “Now, I know what you are thinking-” Vafyr started to say, but Embos, finally managing to get control of herself, cut him off before he could do any more damage. “No, I’m sorry but no. You expect me to trust them after what they’ve done, not just to us, but the people of this world? This is stupid!” she said, and carried on walking towards the village. Vafyr stopped her, grasping her arm tightly, and suddenly this wasn’t so funny. Embos’ smiling face twisted into a scowl. “If you don’t trust them,” he said, looking deeply, so very deeply, into her, “Trust me.” They held a deep stare for a moment, before Embos broke away. What did he want? What was his plan? Their plan? He was serious, and Vafyr was rarely serious. “What aren’t you telling me Vaf?” He was holding something back, Embos knew it. There was something in his eyes, something curious, something important. He sighed, seeming resigned. “This is big Em. This is bigger than all of us. We came to a decision the other day, that this is the only way we’ll win this war.” He looked almost scared. Embos hadn’t seen him like this before. “What war?” “The only war that matters. There is … something coming.” Vafyr’s eyes glowed with a fearful anticipation. Whatever he was talking about, whatever was coming, was inevitable. The storm picked up again, blowing wind through the hills that edged the cliff face. It rippled across the grass, sending waves of darkness across the landscape. Trees, dotted here and there, swayed and danced about to the tune of the wind. Far above, clouds sped past. They swirled into each-other and ran towards dry land. Tiny droplets of rain hit skin, like pins-and-needles prickling across Embos’ body. Everything moved, everything was dynamic, everything had so much potential. For the first time, she realised how delicate it all was. While blades of grass flickered in the weather, one could simply halt each one with their thumb and forefinger. What would happen if all of this, this beautiful chaos, just … stopped? Embos realised she had been staring into space for a while. Vafyr had let go of her. She looked to her brother, searching for … something, some sort of solace, some sort of answer. Should she let him speak? Let the traitor influence their minds? If Vaf was lying they could lose their lands, their people, and their way of life to the gods across the water. But if he was telling the truth… “Em!” an energetic voice shouted from below. The two siblings atop the cliff whipped their heads around to look. It was Pelyr, their youngest sibling. Far below, the village people were out about behind him, interested to see what was going on. They all wore brightly coloured clothes, some in dungarees, some in onesies. Pelyr, spotting Embos, called again. “Em, c’mon, the others are back!” They could lose everything. If Vaf was right, everything would just stop. Embos raised her arm, shooting him a thumbs-up. Then, turning, she began again down the cliff. Vafyr stayed behind. “Sister …” he said, and Embos turned again. “Come on.” She said, “We have much to discuss.” Law of the Diaper - Episode 1 - FOST Fost waddled across the marsh. It was a miserable day, clouds had blocked the warm sun, leaving a thick grey gloom beneath. The marsh itself didn’t help much to quell the air of dullness that hung here either. It was slimy, squishy underfoot, and stank. And that wasn’t the only thing that stank. Fost fiddled with the leak guard of his diaper, attempting to make it more comfortable around his leg. It didn't do much. The diaper was just getting too full to ignore, he’d have to find that village as quick as possible, lest a rash set in. What’s worse, is that he was beginning to feel a little full in the bladder, and he didn’t suspect the diaper could hold another heavy wetting. “Damn.” he said to himself, stepping onto a raised patch of ground that was elevated comfortably out of the mud. Mud. The evil stuff came right up his leg, threatening to cling to his onesie. Not that much further, he thought to himself, then I can have a warm bath and a change. To make the rest of the journey easier on himself, he reached for his pacifier. It was attached to his neck with some old twine. It was nice, calming, and placated him enough to continue, at least for now. Now that his mind was clearer, Fost thought back to that old woman, and the conversation they had had a few days prior. What was it she wanted again? Ah, yes, that book on Strange Dymatagy. Apparently it was a rare thing that contained many more words than it did pictures. Fost scrunched his nose at the thought -- how strange. Books with many words were by no means rare, but they were usually owned by Mommies or Daddies, not another Little like himself. Though the woman was ancient, she was definitely a Little. It could only be a thick diaper between her legs that gave her that waddle, and besides, everyone knew that Littles were the only ones who could do proper Dymatagy. What a strange woman she had been. Living alone in the middle of nowhere, reading books not meant for her eyes. Oh well, thought Fost somewhat bitterly, a job’s a job. He was beginning to run low on funds besides much else, not that he had much to begin with. Besides, the village blacksmith here was apparently quite well known, and he needed a new sword as desperately as he needed a new diaper. After this, he’d be out of money. Hopefully the old woman’s job would set him up for after all of this. Before long, he had reached the bottom of a particularly high hill that had prevented him from seeing over the horizon. Salty mud and matted clumps of grass dotted the eleven foot tall mound, made worse by the recent rains. Fost looked at the hill and sighed heavily. Then, taking a large step, he pushed himself up and onto the mound, grunting loudly. Beneath his bare feet, the mud squelched and bubbled, rising through his toes. Another step, onto the steep slope. He placed his foot down and -- sloop. He slipped in the mud, falling backwards onto his polka-dot cloak and down into the mud below, pacifier flying out his mouth. Getting slowly to his feet again, Fost surveyed himself. He had a streak of brown mud down his favourite cloak. What’s worse, his onesie was now speckled with the stuff. Great, he thought, it’s going to be one of those days. He stepped forward again, making sure to be extra careful where he stood. One step up. His toes gripped into the mud. Two steps. He pulled his weight up. Three. Sloop. He slipped back down, falling onto his hands and knees. He tried again. One step. He gripped a tuft of grass, hard. Two steps. He yanked himself up. Three -- swooppllhh. Fost hit the mud with a loud splat. “aaaaAAAAHHH!” he shouted angrily. For the third time, he found himself at the bottom of that damned mound. Why was it so hard to climb a silly little hill? He used to be a soldier! A warrior! And now he was beaten by a little mud. “This is absurd!” he said through labored, angry breaths. It was. He brought his hand to the pacifier around his neck, intending to calm himself again. It was gone. No. No. It couldn’t be gone. Anger turned to panic, as he pressed his hand against his chest, hoping, desperately hoping, that it was just down his onesie. When he couldn’t find it there, he dived into the mud. It had to be here. It had to be here. Fost splashed and flailed in the muck, splattering the thick mess everywhere. He scooped through thick lumps of it, diving deep into the thick ooze to try and retrieve the pacifier. But he couldn’t find it. Panic turned to fear. His heart beat wildly in his chest, and his eyes felt heavy, watery. It was getting hard to see. On the very edge of tears, Fost just stood there, unable to move, unable to think. What would happen if he lost it? That one reminder? No. No. Fost was on the edge of storm, a raging tornado in his chest. He closed his eyes, feeling the tempest gather within him. It was energy. It was power. Without a thought for the consequences, he dived into the eye of the storm, summoning it to his will. The rage and the panic and the fear swirled around him, and when he opened his eyes again, a bright white glow consumed them all. He clapped his hands to the sky, feeling the energy inside him burst out and cascade across the air. Ignoring the resulting cramp in his stomach, Fost opened his hands as if pushing a great force outwards. As he commanded so the mud obeyed, and like a great gust of wind, a circle of force was drawn around Fost, clearing the mud. The pacifier, blue and starry, lay on the ground, helpless against the mud that had consumed it. Fost smiled when he saw it. It was safe now. He bent down, delicately picking it up. The twine had snapped. Of course it had. No longer raging, the storm died down, and without thinking, Fost dropped his area of force. His face strained for a moment, and the cramp in his abdomen grew. Automatically, he pushed, and a thick mass of his own mud entered his already full diaper. He sighed deeply, content. Now that nothing was holding it back, the mud that surrounded him swept back to fill the emptiness, and within a moment, he was standing in it again. It was okay. It was okay. The pacifier was nestled between Fost’s cupped palms, sitting against the warmth of his skin. One hand closed tightly, ever so tightly, around the pacifier, and he used his other to swing his travel-sack off from beneath his cloak. It was small, only containing some food, some coin and a couple of books, but all had escaped the mud. With grace only seen in a parent caring for a child, he placed the pacifier into the bag, safe with the last of his money. Then, swinging his bag on his back again, he looked back to the slope... ...And refused to climb again. He quickly found a small stone and picked it up. With all his might, with all his effort, he imagined throwing the stone as far as he could, as hard as he could, over the hill. Then, closing his eyes, he dropped the stone. The storm of potential blew inside him again. It was much less this time, more of a strong gust of wind really. But it was enough, and with one great push, he leapt over the hill in a single bound. Well, just over half the hill. He only just passed the summit, before hitting mud, and falling on his bottom with a splat. Underneath him, the poopy diaper squished and pushed a little of his mess out of its confines. He felt the damp of fresh pee as he had another accident, a consequence of the magic. He slid down the other side of the hill, and landed at the bottom with a small splat, feet first. Fost was breathing heavily again. Even using basic Dymatagy usually took a lot out of him. He was muddy, tired, and now in dire need of a change. But, looking up, he saw what he had come for. Perched on a small island in the middle of this gods-forsaken flat, was a little village. Smoke puffed gently from a couple of chimneys, and small wattle and daub cottages stood proudly above the mud. So, brushing off as much of it as he could, he waddled towards the small settlement, trying to ignore his very full pants, and the pee dribbling down his leg. LARIA “Do you think they’ll be back?” Laria asked. She was sat on a porcelain potty, pull-up at her feet. The blacksmith wasn’t that busy at the moment, it rarely was these days. Her business partner, Krisp, slouched behind the wooden counter, where normally the bearded man stood proud. He had just been staring aimlessly at the door for about ten minutes now and, if she was honest, Laria was starting to get a little bit worried. “K?” she asked the man, stretching her head round. He didn’t answer. “Krisp!” she said loudly, and the man jumped slightly. “Sorry,” he said in that deep baritone of his. It always calmed her to hear his voice, it sounded like waves crashing along the beach. The man, normally red-faced, had somehow managed to go an even deeper shade of scarlet, “I’m fine, I was just--” “Dude, it’s fine.” Laria said, sighing, “I know what you were thinking.” There was a moment of reflective silence between them. The shop was always empty. Except for them. Laria almost thought Krisp would fade back into his daydream, but before long he spoke up again. “You making progress?” he asked, looking over to where Laria was perched on the potty, just next to the counter. “No, false alarm I think.” she said. “You’ll get the hang of it. Should have seen me trying a few years back, it was a nightmare. Pee went everywhere.” Krisp said, clearly trying to make Laria laugh. It didn’t really work. She looked down longingly. All this was so hard. Although most people on the Dullen Isles wore pull-ups well into their second decade, they were expected to be fully potty-trained within ten or so years of coming of age at 20. Most were trained years before that. At 28, Laria was starting to get worried. All her friends in Trully, her village, were completely out of their pull-ups. Although, Mossa, from down the road, still wore them for the occasional accident. Laria on the other hand, still used the underwear as her primary method of going to the toilet. To make matters worse, she had to admit that she actually enjoyed doing it sometimes. Not only were they convenient during long days at the forge, where one hardly had the time for potty breaks, but it also felt good to let loose where you stood, to feel the warmth growing around the pseudo-diaper. In Luin, the southern kingdom that ruled over Dullen, they used their diapers without a care in the world. People around here weren't usually friendly to southern visitors, but Laria found herself remarkably jealous of them instead. Although there were new, mandatory changing spaces in every shop, just as there was a potty, Laria would always be treated with an air of suspicion if she took up that lifestyle. Even more since Dullen was now a vassal of the more powerful kingdom, and resentment was skyrocketing. Mind you, they’d always be better than those barbarian pants-wetters in the West -- people who soiled their pants with no protection, no discretion. No matter what, Luin and Dullen would always unite against their wrath, even as reluctant allies. Eventually, Laria gave up trying to go pee in the potty, resigned to the fact that she would probably end up messing her pull-up later anyway. She raised herself off the potty, grabbed her pull-up and tugged on her trousers over the top. The potty, as always, stayed where it was beside the counter, in case a visitor needed it. Then, she moved to the back of the shop to where the fun stuff happened. The forge. “You didn’t answer my question.” Laria said to Krisp as she left him at the counter. The smithy itself was quite bare on the inside, with a few cabinets scattered about the front room displaying swords, knives, and other sharp objects. The bigger ones -- halberds and the like -- sat comfortably on the wall. Behind the counter was a door that led to the smithy itself, where most of the work was done. “I didn’t hear your question.” Krisp answered loudly, shouting across the smithy floor. “Liar!” she shouted amusedly back, moving into the smithy proper. “I don’t know what you mean!” Krisp said. Laria smiled, hearing the grin in his voice. Thick wafts of woodchip smoke from the fire, and a perpetual heat, hit Laria as she entered the forge. The back of the shop was much larger, messier and all around a much more interesting place to work. Beside a small wooden stool, a few swords were lined up, ready for polishing and then, hopefully, sale. Laria liked it back here. She liked the energy of the place, heated by the fire, always crackling; she enjoyed creating, crafting, and making something from something else; and she loved the feeling it gave her while doing it, almost like she was a sorcerer, doing magical things that no one else could. In a way, that was true. That’s what made potty breaks even more gruelling. The damned thing tore her away from her work, her beautiful work. It was the same feeling of uselessness she felt while on the counter, just waiting for customers that didn’t exist. So, Laria sat down on the small wooden bench, her pull-up padding her bottom on the hard wood, and got to work. While she rubbed oil along the slender blade of a newly forged longsword, she looked towards the door. Boy, Krisp really doesn’t want to answer that question she thought, smiling to herself. “Krisp, are you going to answer or not?” “Do you really want an answer?” he asked. It was a tough topic to talk about in his defence, but they needed to be prepared, and this was the beginning of that laborious process. “Yes, I want your opinion. Do you really think they’ll be back?” Although Laria was looking at the sword, careful of where her hands were, she was sure to keep her ears towards the door. It would be nice to just focus on the sword, but she knew she couldn’t until the question was answered. She was beginning to feel a little full ‘down there’ again as well, now that her pee-fright had gone. But before Laria could put much thought into it, Krisp spoke up again. “Honestly ... yes.” he said sullenly “I think they’ll--” He switched his voice abruptly, the slightly worn baritone sparking into a lighter greeting. “Welcome! How can I…” Krisps greeting petered out, and all Laria could hear were mumbles from the door. A customer! Finally, something was going up in this godsforsaken town. She went back to her work, only to be called out again a few moments later. “L, grab that Caerson arming sword we made a few months back.” Laria frowned and got reluctantly up. She moved towards a rack where she and Krisp kept the finished weapons, and grabbed the small arming sword. Then, she carefully made her way out front, to see what all of this was about. They never got visitors, especially ones asking for something so expensive. If she was to be distracted from her work, at least it was for a sale. The customer stood on the opposite side of the counter, chatting idly to Krisp as they waited. He was a young man, dwarfed by gargantuan Krisp, but taller than Laria. He leant on the counter, messy blonde hair straggled across his face. It was curly, unruly stuff, splattered with mud. In fact, now that Laria looked, the man was covered head to toe in the stuff. Clearly a Little from the onesie and multicoloured polka-dot cloak, the man looked rather unhappy in his current state. “Here you go sir.” she said, passing the sword to the man. He took it, looking somewhat unsure, and then looked it up and down. Only as she stood there for a moment, watching the customer, did Laria notice the smell. It was that all too familiar stench of a messy diaper, a very messy diaper. Now she looked, the loaded thing bulked between his legs, forcing them slightly apart. Although it was probably rude to stare, Laria couldn’t take her eyes off the thing. What does it feel like? To have so much weight down there? In fact, she only stopped staring when Krisp nudged her, and she snapped sharply out of her daydream. Rather luckily, the customer was still inspecting the sword. It was quite funny watching him. The poor fellow clearly didn’t know what he was looking for, either that or he was distracted. Maybe it was the diaper… “My partner here can give you a run-down if you’d like a good sir?” Krisp said, putting the man out of his misery. “Yes,” the customer answered, sounding relieved, “That would be great.” and he handed the sword to Laria. As she smiled, taking the blade from the customer, she couldn’t help notice that her bladder seemed considerably fuller than it had before. Oh well, can’t stop now, she thought, besides, I’ll probably just freeze back up if I try the potty again. Laria balanced the sword on the tips of her fingers, showing the customer where the blade’s centre of gravity was. She looked towards the man, who proceeded to nod gently. Then, moving with the grace of the wind, she threw the sword in the air, and caught it by the hilt. Krisp chuckled, seeing the customer waddle back slightly in surprise. She swung the sword around a little, getting a feel for it. “Arming swords are usually side-arms.” she said, slicing through the air. This felt good, a blade in her arms. It had been so long since they’d had any customers, she’d almost forgotten how freeing it felt to wield a sword rather than craft one. I’ll have to take this up again! “Did you want one this size?” she said calmly, hiding the energy, the potential, deep inside her chest. “Yes. Something easy to travel with, light and agile. I... I used to have a similar weapon in the army.” the customer said, the last bit subdued somewhat. He glanced to the ground as he said it. Was he ashamed? Embarrassed? Surely he should know how to wield a sword if that were the case? Laria thought it best not to press him. She stopped her routine, and gently handed back the sword. He took it. “This should suit your needs quite well then.” said Laria. She glanced down at the man’s full diaper for a moment, but when she raised her eyes, she caught the customer’s gaze. His pale skin went suddenly red. It was almost as if he hadn’t even realised his diaper was that full until now, and was suddenly self-conscious. How couldn’t you realise when you’d messed yourself? Laria thought back to all the times she’d had an accident, and the bulge that stuck out of her pants. She remembered the earthy smell, the way it forced you to waddle along. Were Littles that oblivious? Krisp interrupted her train of thought, as per. “Is there anything else we can do for you?” he asked. For a moment, Laria didn’t know if it were possible for the man to blush more, but somehow he managed. “You … errr… you don’t know where I could change around here? I have my own supplies...” Krisp giggled slightly, but thankfully it seemed the man had gone as red as he could go. Now it was Laria’s turn to interrupt Krisp. “Yes, of course. This way Sir …” “Fost. Just, Fost.” “Okay Master Fost, this way please.” and she led him to the changing room out the back. FOST “Just back here.” the woman who ran the blacksmiths said. Fost waddled behind her as best he could, trying not to leak over their floor. Although he could handle the odd wet, or even messy, diaper, it had been two days now. He needed this so badly. It was clammy around his legs, the mess was dry and peeling, clinging to his skin like a crustacean. He followed the woman through the back of the shop and into the forge. A hazy fog of fire-smoke floated through the air ahead. “Through there,” the woman said, pointing at a door to Fost’s side. “Just go ahead and get started.” the woman continued, walking toward the forge’s fire, “I’ll just heat some water for you.” She didn’t bring her head up as she spoke, focusing intently on the fire and water instead. Fost nodded, though the woman didn’t see, and waddled into the small side-room. It was pretty standard as far as changing rooms went, though compared to the rest of the shop, it looked relatively new. The wooden walls were cleaner than the rest of the smithy, and a newly clay-tiled floor lay comfortably under a wooden table. It was the length of a man, and a leather cushion lay at the other end. It all looked barely used. Climbing onto the table was a little bit of a struggle. Fost didn’t particularly want to leak, these people were doing him a courtesy after all, and getting excrement everywhere would be extremely disrespectful. That was perhaps the one thing this strange place and his own homeland had in common -- it was always, always, impolite to make a mess when making messies. Of course it happened occasionally, accidentally. But only those barbarians in the south would be so disgusting as to do so deliberately. When Fost managed to get onto the table, he lay down, getting comfortable. Then, with practiced hands, he unbuttoned his onesie, and tore off the tapes of his diaper, which now rested on his upper waist. Presently, the woman entered with the water. Steam drifted off the surface, gently curling and swaying in the light breeze of the closing door. The woman placed the bowl down onto the tiles below, along with some small towels she carried. She drew another bucket out from under the table, and placed it at her feet. Then suddenly, she wrinkled her nose, apparently hit by the stinky onslaught of smells for the first time, especially now that the Diaper was open. Fost felt his face go hot, flushing. “I’m so sorry Miss.” he said out of sheer embarrassment. Normally in Luin, whenever changes happened, it wasn’t seen as a big deal. Everyone was used to it, and it was even enjoyable. Mommies and Daddies made their Little feel at ease, treating it, rightly so, as something that was perfectly natural. Clearly, here in the Dullen Isles, people weren’t so used to hiding their reactions. The woman seemed to blush a little as well. “It’s fine Sir … sorry I forgot your name.” “Fost.” he said, thankful for the change of subject. He relaxed a little at that. “I’m Laria,” the woman said. Laria. She was slightly shorter than Fost, though the height of the table seemed almost perfect for her. Dark skin glistening with the sweat of the forge, Laria wiped her forehead. She moved her already rolled sleeves up her arm a little, and bent down to soak one of the rags in the warm water. Then, she got back up, brushed some of her black, curling hair out of the way, and opened the front of the diaper. Even by Little standards, Fost had to admit it was horrid. In fact, he was surprised he hadn’t had a blowout, especially considering the dirty thing had been leaking for a good hour now. Lara scrunched up her nose again, and this time even Fost was forced to follow suit. “I am so sorry.” he said, his ears, cheeks, and neck burning in shame. “No no!” Laria said, somewhat less calmly than he was hoping to hear, “It happens to everyone.” Not around here though, thought Fost shamefully. She began to wipe him down, taking the wet cloth and squeezing the dirty water into the empty bucket. It felt amazing. After all he had been through over the past few days, to have the icky mess finally coming off him was utterly blissful. He felt light down there, clean, and fresh. He felt like the steam rising from hot water. He felt like the cool currents of the ocean. He felt like a gust of wind in the sky. Fost enjoyed this transcendent experience for a few moments, enjoying the peace, enjoying the silence. He looked to Laria, she was completely consumed in the work, focused and stone-eyed. It was an admirable trait, the likes of which Fost hadn’t seen in a very long time. Although she looked a little uncomfortable, maybe even slightly distracted at times, she continued working diligently. Only for a moment did she break her glance -- catching Fost in the act of looking, then swiftly returning to her task. Fost looked down quickly, not keen to make an awkward situation of it. “So,” Laria said eventually, still intent on her work, “What brings you so far north?” She said it almost absent-mindedly, but there was a quiet chorus of intrigue that rose from behind. Should he tell the truth? Should he say why he was here? He couldn’t see it causing much harm. It was just a book after-all. Besides, he concluded, maybe she can help. “Oh, I’m looking for a book.” said Fost, trying not to make a big deal out of it. “For a client down south.” “Oh Really? What does it look like? Maybe I can point you the right way.” Laria asked. Fost took a moment to answer. Not because he didn’t want to tell her, but rather because he didn’t know what to tell her. He couldn’t recall the woman mentioning what it looked like, other than it’s contents and… “It has a symbol on the front, I think. A sword on a shield, engraved into the cover.” he said, satisfied at the little victory over his memory. Laria, who was in the middle of her final wipes, stopped suddenly. She seemed to squint slightly, as if trying to remember something. Then, shaking her head, she went back to work. “Sorry, I can’t remember seeing anything like that.” she said. Eventually, she finished cleaning Fost down, his sparkly clean bare bottom on the cold table. Laria shuffled through Fost’s bag and found a clean diaper from the stash he left Bermont with, they were well stocked in the Capital. “Okay, bottom up.” Laria said, hoisting Fost’s legs upwards and laying out the white padding underneath. Fost noticed something different about her now. Whilst she was still focused on the task at hand, it was becoming clearer and clearer that she was struggling to maintain composure. The blacksmith was starting to wiggle a little, moving from side to side, almost as if… “You okay?” Fost asked as Laria did the tapes of his diaper up. “Yeah, I’m … I’m fine.” she said unconvincingly. Fost had seen that struggle before. It was common in these parts, where people weren’t so relaxed about just going in their diaper -- Laria was doing a pee-pee dance. “If you need to go, you should just go.” he said, as calmly as possible. “You do wear some sort of protection around here don’t you?” Laria looked up, seeming somewhat startled. Then, she nodded quickly. “Well I - ahhh - I should really be going in the potty.” She was really moving now that she didn’t have to hide it, blushing slightly as she gave into the full pee-pee dance. With a hand pressed between her legs, Laria wiggled up and down, stepping quickly from foot to foot. She was starting to go even redder too, though Fost didn’t know if it was from the strain or embarrassment. He should do something. Help somehow. “Would you like me to go and get the potty for y-” “No!” She almost shouted, before Fost could finish asking. “No, it’s … it’s fine…” Laria’s struggle seemed to hit a limit, and suddenly she stopped. “It’s fine, ahhhhhh.” as she spoke, her legs seemed to go weak, and a relieved smile crept onto her face. Fost couldn’t help but smile amusedly as well. She lent slightly forward, breathing heavily, for about two minutes, completely in her own world. Silence filled the room, so much so that Fost could hear the gentle trickle of a quickly filling pull-up. “You … err … you done?” he asked. Laria, clearly remembering she wasn’t alone, snapped her head up and shot up straight. “Heh, erm, sorry about that.” she said, blushing slightly. Fost had to suppress a giggle. It was strange to hear someone apologise for something that happened all the time in the south. “It’s fine, I’m used to it.” he said. Laria looked down to inspect the damage, and her long hair fell in front of her face. “Would you like a change or…?” Fost trailed off, watching Laria to see what she’d say. “Um…” “Oh, sorry, is that not … do you not do that here? In the south we generally swap and stuff but --” Fost spoke quickly, muttering that last bit. Laria interjected before he had a chance to finish. “No, we … we do that here too, for those of us who are still… y’know.” she said. “Oh, cool … that wasn’t … I’m sorry if it was out of line …” “Not at all!” she said, moving her head quickly up, and stepping forward slightly. “It’s fine, I would have asked the same thing.” “Okay, sorry if I …” “No, you don’t need to say sorry …” “Did you … did you errr … you still want me too-” “Yes!” she said quickly, a smile flickering on her face, “Errr, yes … yes please.” Fost’s face was scorching with embarrassment, and it was clear Laria was as well. Fost jumped down and went to find the supplies that Laria kept around, while she jumped onto the table. Then, soaking some clean rags, Fost got to work. Changing a pull-up was much the same as changing a diaper, though the garment was considerably less bulky. Laria had completely soaked through hers, and Fost was, for the second time today, surprised no-one leaked. “Y’know,” he said, taking the heavy pull-up and placing it beside the waste bucket, “You’d make a good Little with how much you soaked this thing.” “And you’d make a good Islander with that quick potty suggestion earlier!” Laria said, eliciting an embarrassed chuckle from Fost. Now that things were a little more comfortable, Laria seemed to open up a bit, and as Fost wiped her down, they talked a little about weapons. “You won’t find many larger ones around here,” Laria said, “They’re bought up quickly and used for war. At steep discounts too…” “I guessed as much, that’s the way things have always been in Luin. Always at war, always ‘acquiring’ weapons. Most non-army folk don’t get a word in.” “Yeah. Although, if you don’t mind me asking, you’re only looking for a book. Why do you need a sword?” Laria asked as Fost did the tapes of her pull-up. “Better safe than sorry, right? Bandits and all sorts on the road.” “Not around here. That’s one of the few good bits about --” DONG. DONG. DONG. A large bell rang through the village outside. Laria snapped up. “Oh no.” she said, and walked out of the room without bothering to put on her pants. Fost watched her go, slightly confused for a moment, and then decided that it would be best to follow her. What in the name of the gods is happening now? He cursed silently. Outside, people were gathering around a bell that stood in the middle of the village. Like Laria, a few of the younger folk were out here with their pull-ups on full show. Fost started to worry a little. This couldn’t be good whatever it was, and he was in a foreign town with foreign people. All around, people in the crowd glared at him. He pushed through the crowd and eventually found Laria, standing at the front. “Laria,” he asked, “what’s going on?” but he didn’t have to wait for an answer. Opposite the small crowd was a group of soldiers on horseback. Like Fost, they all wore bright cloaks, onesies, and each had a distinct diaper-bulge. There were at least thirty of them at the back, all wearing similar clothes to Fost, though with added armour plates here-and-there. Three of the newcomers stood proud and tall at the front. The one in the centre sucked on a pacifier haughtily, looking so utterly regal that he probably thought he shat gold. On his right was a woman, thin faced, and paler than ice. On his left was a man, hooded -- a cloak of deep twilight-blue. Fost felt something strange, like the gears of possibility shifted within him. But then something else caught his eye. Strapped to the hooded man’s waist was a book. A book with a shield and sword engraved on the front. END OF EPISODE 1

I would say my number one fetish (slightly above ABDL) is desperation and wetting. I love the feeling of having an achingly full bladder and being desperate to use the toliet, holding it until I end up wetting myself. I also love, love, love watching someone else wiggle, dance, moan, whine, and beg to use the bathroom before inevitably soaking their pants.

The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 1. *The sound of Jawas fills the cab of my car making me smile.*Allen told me they were haggling over scrap on Tatooine, but I had no clue. Don’t get me wrong, I love those movies, but nothing like my husband does. Clearly, he has been messing with my phone again. “Ok Google, Read New Text.” I tell the dead air in my car while rolling my eyes at my nerdy husband’s antics. “You have one new text from Allen at five thirty-two PM. Do you want to hear it?” “Yes.” I tell my phone.The female computerized voice reads back my husband’s text. It is an odd juxtaposition listening to his words and imagining his face to the female’s jilting voice. Google reads, “Shit hone. That ducks. You don’t have a lot of options there.”Autocorrect hates him. It always makes me giggle while I try to interpret what he’s going on about. I get tired of dictating to my phone and pick it up directly. Normally, I’d wait and talk slowly through the menu’s to send a reply, but it wasn’t dangerous just sitting here. I’m not about to text and drive. That shit is dangerous!I text him back.[Me:] Radio says there’s a tractor trailer rig overturned. I’m locked in. I can’t stop bouncing my legs. I gotta pee so freaking bad! At least Molly’s sleeping through it. Thank god for pool day.[Allen:] ITH (our own code – In The House)[Me:] You never beat me home! (Yeah, I’m whining at this point.)[Me:] I don’t know what to do! If I pee my pants, the leather will be fine but the carpet…[Allen:] You can’t do anything about it babe. Don’t hurt yourself. I’ll have the car cleaned.[Me:] You’d use Bill though! We KNOW them![Allen:] You have a leaky 3.5 year old in the car. They won’t know who it was. [Me:] Still, I’d know…[Allen:] Getting in the shower. Text me when you finally break free. [Me:] KI sit there looking around at an utter loss. Molly’s daycare is only fifteen minutes away from the house on the interstate. I had come up on the wreck just after I picked up my daughter. I was still a mile away if the radio report was correct. I was locked in and at a full stop before I knew what had happened. No matter which direction I look, all I can see are cars. Worse, I’m on an inside lane and can’t even off-road through the median! I’m stuck tight, and my bladder isn’t happy about it. In fact, it feels like it’s going to be downright rebellious.The tide is changing and I began to lose the fight with lactic acid and muscle fatigue. I shouldn’t have left the house without peeing first, but I thought I’d be home in thirty minutes! Turns out that was a bad decision, one that was biting me in the ass. The muscles between my legs twinge. I’m long past the pain stages. In fact, everything that I’ve been clinching is numb. I smack at my knees trying to get some feeling back into my legs and to distract myself from the numbness and the impending disaster. I start singing along to the radio at the top of my lungs. That distraction doesn’t work either. Molls, just keep sleeping baby. Mommy can’t handle peeing herself in front of you. I thought dreading the implications that seeing me wet myself would have on my daughter. Allen said I could blame the mess on my little Molls, but that doesn’t feel right either. I need a solution. Spontaneously, a really crazy thought burns brightly in my head. I snap a picture of my hand coming out of my daughters diaper bag and send it to my husband before breaking out into a feverish flurry of activity. I turn up the radio to keep all my wiggling from waking up Molly. I can’t believe I’m about to do this… I can’t believe I’m doing this… I can’t believe I did that…-----I get home at fifteen after six, which is far later than I normally pull up. I’m super not thrilled about it either! Traffic was a bitch even after I FINALLY got past the wreck. I’m not sure how my half day of working from home turned into eight full hours of work, or how easing back into fulltime turned into such a stressful day. The lousy drive home from picking up Molly was the icing on my crap cake. I am very anxious to get my daughter in the house and try to find a way to process this situation. I need a fix of my man! I need to cuddle up to him and watch some TV, and maybe drink a glass of wine. I stand up stretching my back and lean against my car. I take a breath then reach in and grab all our stuff. Lastly, I shoulder our diaper bag popping open Molly’s door. I wake her up with sweet words. Molly takes my hand grabbing my fingers tightly and we make our way to the house. I have an unbalanced load for sure, and it's leaning heavily to my diaper bag side. Waddling around didn’t make it anything graceful let me tell you!Thank God she's walking now. I'd be done in if I had to carry her too. I wouldn’t have had the strength. My little Doodlebug is too big for me to haul her around on my hip anymore. I think sadly.She toddles beside me into the house. She doesn’t quite wake up either. She sways on her feet still groggy shambling like a zombie. I smile entering my house. It is simply thrilling to be home, it smells like safety and relaxation. Today, it seems like a major accomplishment just to get here. It had seemed impossible only thirty minutes ago. My little angel and I had been stuck for more than an hour behind that overturned tractor trailer less than ten miles from our house! I drop everything on the couch leaving Molly just inside our front door. She sways on her feet trying to wake up, but with little success. My attitude went from relief to anger in a heartbeat wanting to get out of my work clothes and Allen nowhere to be found.“Allen.” I bellow stress lining my voice. Seriously, he should be here! He knew I'd be coming in in a hurry.“Hey, Rob. Glad my girls…” He inhaled sharply seeing my face. “I take it you’re both wet?”, he chuckles.The balls on this man!“Funny aren't ya!” I growl. “Just take her will you. I'd like to get cleaned up.” I shoot him my best grouchy face, and let me tell you it can melt the paint off the walls! “Are you still wearing it? I mean did it fit?” My devoted husband stutters with an odd air about him. It’s almost seems like he is excited and it’s overriding his sense of self-preservation. I blushed instantly losing my bluster, “Ya to both. I mean I need to go freshen up, and I'm sure Molly would like a fresh diaper.”“Show me.” He insists not moving an inch after taking Molly’s sleepy little hand.“What! No. It’s bad enough I'm wearing it and its freaking wet! I'm not going to be showing this thing off. I’m supposed to be sexy to you, not some kind of screw-up.” I gasp.“I'm going to be honest here. Those do nothing for me on Molly, but I've been messed up thinking about it since you texted me that picture of her diaper. I wasn’t sure if you’d use it. I can't believe it fit.” Allen confesses.“I couldn't either. I mean it's a stretch, but our Doodlebug isn't very little. In fact, I probably shouldn’t really carry her around anymore. She doesn’t need to see this.” I ramble not so stealthily to divert his attention. I say anything trying to distract him with my moment of nostalgia from earlier.I’m super embarrassed about my situation, but at only twenty-four, I am still very interested in keeping my husband turned on. Getting him excited gets me that way too. Most of the time it would be a win-win situation, but this isn’t one of those times.But, the look on Allen’s face gives me pause. My excuse to be out of this thing was that it wouldn’t be attractive, but is it. Is he turned on?I think about it and decide I am pretty comfortable in one of Molly’s diapers, even though it was a little soggy and was pulling tightly at my hips. He clearly wants to see it. If it turns him on... Wearing it doesn’t cost me anything but some embarrassment.“Show me, babe.” Allen interrupts my thoughts prompting me a second time.“Pick her up first.” I instruct and he complies.Almost on auto-pilot, I kick off my heels and slide out of my slacks. I drop my boy-short style panties which leaves me in my blouse and Molly’s size five Luvs diaper. It’s a startling contrast, half a business outfit and half a toddler's. I try to pull together some sexy thoughts so I can model the diaper for him. I end up laughing instead. Allen laughs too. His laughing caught our little Doodlebug’s attention causing her to wake up from her shoulder nap. She looks around for a moment to see what all the laughter is about. “Mommy, it's ok. That's what diapers are for. You'll make it next time.” She tells me full of love and support. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 2. Molly parrots the phrase she'd heard so many times in the last couple years. My poor little Doodlebug continues to have some setbacks with her potty training. She’s heard that line a lot. My tall three year old daughter takes after her daddy. We are betting Molly will end up over six feet tall. I’m worried I'll wake up any day now and she’ll be taller than me. I’ll go to get her out of bed and she’ll stand up in some cute little girl night gown and I’ll have to look up to look her in the eyes. The doctors tell us that she’ll grow out of the bladder problems eventually. They said her bladder isn’t keeping up with the rest of this growth spurt. Things will even out in a year or so. “Thanks Doodlebug. I can't believe how comfortable this thing is Allen.” I say feeling the outside of the soggy diaper. “Do I need to give you two a minute.” He teases me. He might, I thought. Damn, I can’t believe I thought that. This is super comfy though. A bit tight, but all warm and soft feeling inside and out. Watching me play around with the diaper clearly gets my husband wound up. Suddenly, I find myself excited too. The diaper is still comfortable to me, but I felt... naughty!?! Standing there in a wet diaper, in my living room, in front of my horney husband, and lovely little daughter. I send Allen off to change Molly while I head to change myself and get cleaned up. I slowly make my way to our master bathroom and start the shower. Shutting the bedroom door, I look the diaper over checking the fit for the first time. The length is ok. The diaper comes up over my ass and covers my lady bits, but the sides are struggling to stay latched without my panties holding them together. Still, it fit! I can’t believe it. I rub the wet front panel and clinically study the garment. I've changed countless diapers on my Doodlebug, but this one is different. I focus in on the diaper so completely that my mind stills. That almost never happens! I bet the size up would fit pretty good. Wonder what my options are? Maybe there’s adult or teen diapers out there I could get. It seemed to hold up most of that wetting. I’ll need to start shaving again. Allen will love that. I think I’ll like that feeling too. Smooth skin next to delicate cotton. I shiver and it dawns on me that I haven’t finished peeing. I sit down on the toilet with the diaper still on. I decide to let it have its shot at holding a full wetting. I release into the diaper and smile at the hissing sounds. Well, that’s not subtle at all. I sit there on the toilet grinning like a fool. I have a short internal debate before letting it all go and just going for it. I wet the diaper with the rest of that initial payload that I had been holding back since the wreck. Surprisingly, it holds ok till the very last when I heard the tinkle of my water hitting the toilet water. I sit for a bit to let the diaper catch up with my flood. Then, I stand feeling a little bit of my urine still sloshing around inside waiting to be absorbed. I know from years of changing Molly that there is a big difference in a small wetting and a full one. She’s getting big enough that she can flood her size fives if I didn't keep an eye on her. Those fives should fit her a while longer if I can squeeze my Momma-ass into them! Even the sixes aren’t going to fit me like they fit Molly, but they'd probably fit about like my bikini panties. They would cover my front and rear leaving some coverage over my hips. I stand and poke at the diaper turning little circles in front my full length mirror. I take off my top and bra getting one last look at myself in the mirror before jumping in the shower. It would have leaked more if I'd been sitting on it when I wet it. I’m thankful I only trickled a little in the car. I rub the soaked diaper enjoying the change in texture for a moment. I’m not sure how wearing that diaper changed from necessity to fulfilling some dream of Allen’s, or how it turned from dressing up for him to sort of maybe-kind-of-liking-it for myself, but it did. Allen’s mood must be contiguous. My intentions change from feeling the diaper out of curiosity to pleasure, and I don’t hold back. I shake my head smiling at my reflection in my vanity looking like a guilty child with her hand in her pants. Oddly, even with the diaper wet, it was still comfortable to me. Eventually, I decide I look sort of good in it too. With no small amount of regret, I take off the diaper and toss it into our bathroom trashcan. Still smiling and full of impulsiveness, I get in the shower and wash my hair. My mind is in a million places diner, bills, chores, work, Allen, Molly, and strangely that diaper. My thoughts drift from one train of thought to another, though never fully exploring any to the point of making any decisions. I find myself soaping down my pantie area and reaching for my razor. I shave myself smooth trying to remember why I had stopped, laziness I suppose. I have been tidy recently, but I haven’t been bare since before Molly was born. I know Allen will be thrilled. It feels new and fun and playful to be smooth again. I dry off and grab my favorite fleece nightgown. My mind is still buzzing with dozens of unfinished thoughts clouding my ability to concentrate. My gown is red with little white bears all over it. Allen bought it for me for Christmas a few years back. It reminds me of the Christmas Coke commercials. I tug some boy short style panties, my favorite kind, up my legs and head toward our kitchen. My mind is floating as I move around on auto-pilot. Unfortunately, it’s a common thing for me to be wandering around with my mind adrift. Allen and Molly are still in the guest bathroom giving her potty a whirl. I smile and wave at her behind Allen’s back. She smiles and waves back at me. Who knew her diapers would be that comfortable? I didn’t even feel gross after peeing in it! If she’s having bladder problems and the diapers are that comfortable for her too, it’s little wonder we are having trouble potty training her. I muse. Then, I pad barefoot toward the kitchen, but as I pass Molly’s room I’m struck by a brand new desire. My panties suddenly feel too thin. They aren’t making any noise. There is no sense of air pockets moving around as I move. I thoughtlessly draw closer to my daughter's changing table. I want another diaper. They are naughty and fun and comfortable and… I start justify my actions internally. Wait. I don’t have to have a reason! I’m a damn adult. If I want to wear a diaper around my own home, then I can damn well do it! Before I can second guess anything, I find myself sporting a brand new dry Luvs diaper tucked away safely under my boy short panties. I smile like an idiot on my way to the kitchen. I feel like I’m in some sort of trance, like I’m not totally in control of myself. I can’t reason why, but these diapers are making me happy. I damn near skip the rest of the way toward my next objective. In the kitchen, I finally snap out of my haze and find myself able to focus. I mean really focus on preparing dinner. It’s totally crazy. I simultaneously preheat the oven, start some knock off DiGiorno pizzas, and put out drinks for my little family while setting the table. I know I am enjoying my naughty secret, but I'll bet Allen will enjoy it more. I grow more excited by the minute thinking about teasing him until Doodlebug goes to bed. I can hear them leave the bathroom and head to Molly’s room to change for dinner. You’re not the only one sister! I think. They'll be here any minute and my private time with my growing obsession will end. I am very comfortable standing there in my diaper and nightgown. I sort of feel cheated that it won’t stay on without the panties though. It is fine up and moving around, but as soon as I sit the tabs will pop off. I need my own diapers, ones that fit me better. I decide. I'd no sooner come to that conclusion than my husband and daughter come into the kitchen. They are both smiling at me. I show them a warm loving smile in return. I genuinely love my little family. I guess we are pretending that I didn’t just pee myself in the car earlier. K? I shrug turning back to the work of preparing the meal. Allen helps me set the table, while Molly shuffles back and forth carrying anything we let her carry. We aren’t perfect, but we are happy. Suddenly, I realize that I could hear my Doodlebug toddling back and forth in her crisp new diaper. I hadn't even thought to listen to see if I was crinkling too! As turned on as Allen had been, I am fairly confident I’m not scuttling around as loudly as my daughter is. If I was, he'd have been asking to see it again. I’m almost certain of it. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 3. I try to put the diaper out of my mind and just continue on with my day. I try, but I can’t quite do it. I decide to blame Allen. Him being in the room with me changes how I feel about the diaper. I feel like I could zone out and forget about it if he wasn’t in here. He is though, so I keep focusing on my diaper creating fun random moments where I feel what I am wearing. Those moments cause goofy smiles. These smiles aren’t timed with the conversation at all. They are timed with the bulk between my legs and the tugs at my hips. I probably look crazy puttering around the kitchen smiling at random unexplainable moments. Fortunately, Allen is focused on Molly and I don’t have to explain myself. Allen whistles something peppy and Molly gets up to dance around. She flitters around my kitchen like a little diapered fairy princess. I decide my happiness must be contagious, that or it’s the diapers! It’s all sort of surreal. Two of the three of us are diapered, but only I know this secret. “Daddy da big twuck laid down.” My three year old told her father sitting down. “That's what mommy said.” Allen. “I felt so bad about it honey. We were close enough to see what happened. It looked awful.” Me. “I know babe. I'm sorry you had to see that.” Allen said patting my hand. “I falled asleep daddy.” Molly. “You fell asleep.” Allen corrected. “She didn't make it long. She left me all alone stuck in traffic and bored to tears. If it wasn't for AC and candy crush, I'd have gone crazy.” Me. “And what about the potty situation?” Allen asked with a smile. Bastard, I project at him mentally. “I didn't make it daddy. I went potty in my sleeps.” Molly. “That's what your diaper is for princes. You'll make it next time. And you went potty in your sleep.” Allen told our daughter with comforting confidence. “We all need some help sometimes baby.” I tell Molly patting her shoulder. *ding* “That's me guys. Let me get our pizzas in.” I tell them standing. I get up doing my best to move normally, but it proves harder than I expect. The small bulk of my toddler's diaper between my thighs alters my gait a bit. I probably look just a tiny bit uncomfortable in the ass area while walking, but in my mind I look like a bow-legged cowboy. Gonna have to remember to practice with that a bit. I think forcing myself to walk normally. A few strides and I’m standing at the oven. My waist is hidden from my family. I put the two pizzas directly on the rack. Mhhhm crispy pizza… As I bend down, my diaper pulls tight and my nightgown rides up my thighs. The diaper is peeking out of the waist band of my panties, but my gown doesn’t ride anywhere near that high for it to be seen. If my husband could see me from the table, he’d likely see the diaper behind the tight thin material of my panties poking out from under my gown. I know he’d be looking if he could! Too bad for Allen. I think and wiggle my ass in the air like a happy puppy. Then for the first time I hear myself crinkle. I break out in a huge smile and can’t hold back the happy giggle. “What's going on in there?” Allen calls from our tiny dining area sounding suspicious. “Nothing.” I call back still laughing. “Sounds like we're missing out on some fun in there.” Allen. “Nah, everything is great. I'm just glad to be home with my family.” Me. I go with a partial truth since I don’t want to talk about the diaper in front of my Doodlebug. I don’t want to admit it, but I want to keep it a secret for myself too, at least for a while. I feel like me wearing a diaper on purpose would be confusing for Molly at this critical potty time. I fail to consider that I have already been caught in one, and that to her perception of things probably wouldn’t be any different. I walk back in the dining area swaying my hips trying to look seductive as possible in a fleece mid-thigh nightgown. Allen’s smile is full of promises for adult fun time with excitement dancing in his eyes. That promise of intimacy lights a fire in my already warm diaper. Shaving had been a terrific idea, and it’s adding to the excitement of my situation. I can feel my entire diaper. It’s feels like taking a Band-Aid off a finger after several days and feeling things directly against your skin again, only in reverse. All that cottony goodness feels delicious. I saunter over to Allen bending to get a big girl kiss from my husband. I can hear myself crinkling and it just ups my thrill level. Too bad I can’t just send Molly to her room. We could get naked in the kitchen if she weren't in here with us. Yeah, I’m that freaking horney now. After I confirm for Allen that naked things are coming with my lips, I sit back down. I take a deep breath to ask Allen about his day and try to focus on something besides my rampant teenage-level hormones when Molly tugs on my sleeve pointing at the coloring books on the table. We keep a twenty-four pack of colored pencils and a stack of coloring books on the kitchen table for just such occasions. Molly talks, but she's not much for conversation, and those colored pencils have saved more than one meal in the last few years. “Hey Doodlebug, let's color Daddy a picture.” Me. “May I have da street one Mommy.” Molly. “Good manners princes, it’s THE street one. Sesame Street.” Allen. “I'll take the Spider-Man one.” Me. Molly just sort of ignores her dad’s verbal guidance reaching for the requested book. We color a few pages while waiting on the pizza to cook. I take my time and color my picture thoroughly. It’s a nice job, if I do say so myself! Coloring has always been therapeutic for. I really relax simply sitting there in my diaper coloring Spider-Man pages with my daughter. “Rob, babe, don't chew on your hair.” Allen chastises me. “I, what.” I blew a raspberry spitting my blonde hair from my mouth. “Jeez, I haven't done that in years.” I stutter softly to myself. *ding* Allen puts a hand up to stop me from getting out of my chair. “You just keep coloring babe. I'll cut up the pizza. You look sort of cute sitting there.” Allen smiles at me. “Yay, Mommy cowors wid me!” Molly. “Colors.” Allen. “Colors.” Molly says concentrating. “With.” Allen. “Wiff.” Molly. Allen shrugs indicting that her last shot was close enough. “Alright, since you're both twisting my arm.” I grin happy to stay seated and finish coloring my page. I knock out the page I started while Allen gets the pizzas out of the oven and plates them. Then, I pick out another page from my super hero coloring book. I’ve always loved superheroes, but it is a causal fandom. I decide to see how black and yellow looks on our friendly neighborhood Spider-Man. Cause… why not? I unconsciously narrow my focus on my coloring. I slip away from all the fuss that usually clouds my head. Full Coverage. Stay between the lines. Even color depth. Light position. Let’s see, I’ll trace the outer edge of the yellows to a darker shade just inside the existing black lines. Yeah, I like that. Really helps the contrast with the black to yellow conversion. Molly and I are coloring so hard that we don’t even notice Allen coming back. He walks up to the table and sits the two cut pizzas down, and grabs our drinks for a refill. When he walks behind me to get to his seat, he reaches down and slides a finger between my cheek and my hair. He pulls gently and I feel my hair tugging from my mouth. Again? Huh, I didn’t even really notice. “Rob, baby, I asked you to keep your hair out of your mouth.” Allen chastises me again with a huge smile on his face. “Sorry, I truthfully didn’t even notice that I had started chewing on it again.” I apologize. “Asked me…” I mumble loud enough to be heard on purpose clearly displaying my displeasure. “Sorry babe. I just don’t want Molly to start that. Apparently, it’s at least a twenty-four year habit.” He tells me tucking my hair behind my ears on both sides of my head. It’s a sweet gesture. I loved him for it for giving me the tender reminder. His hand rests on my shoulder as he looks at Spidey’s new threads. I reach up and put my hand over his trying to push my love through the contact feeling a bit guilty about being pissed. “Cool costume remake. Eat up girls. Friday night is movie night. I’m feeling some like Dory since the second one is out. I haven’t seen it yet.” Allen. “I love Ellen. Such a sweetheart.” Me. “Nemo!” Molly squeals. “Speaking of nemo, when is the last time we did the filter sock? I think the charcoal is due too. Do we have any saltwater mixed up?” I ask Allen. “Yeah, I have like twenty gallons mixed up on your cart.” Allen. “Do you want tank work or dishes?” I ask Allen as I plate some pizza for Molly and me. “Uh… we’ll get the dishes. You fit down there better than I do anyway.” Allen fires away at our long running size joke. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 4. Allen’s nearly six and a half feet tall and a bit over two hundred fifty pounds. I likes my men big! Me, I’m pretty average at five foot three. The pediatrician is positive Molly will race after her Daddy’s height, and that I’ll soon be the shortest inhabitant of the house. Frankly, it won’t be as far away as I’d like. I’ll have a giant of a man and an Amazon of a girl around here in about ten years. “Good thing I’m close to the floor! Someone has to clean up after you you great hairy beast!” I giggle. We joke and eat till about seven thirty. Molly is practically yawning at the table. Her normal bedtime is eight. I’m antsy to have her in bed safe behind her door. I’m horney and my diaper needs my husband’s attention. We Smiths are early to rise, it’s just, Allen and I are late to bed and early to rise. When Molly is asleep is the only time we get to be a couple any more. We guard that time jealously. I wonder if we could keep up the eight o’clock bedtime even after we don’t send her to bed at that time. I could make it room time not bedtime… I mean she wouldn’t have to go to bed, just be in her room. I have no idea how successful that will be, but Damn! It’s worth trying! Weekends are the exception. Molly pretty much gets to stay up till she crashes on Friday and Saturday nights. It’s clear she isn’t going to last long today. I yawn and stretch too as I stand. I feel my nightgown lift, and just for fun I bend forward a bit making sure that I’d flash my diaper at the living room. I flush realizing I’m being more than a little bit naughty. Allen and Molly get up to work on the dishes and I head toward the living room to work on our aquarium. It’s a nice custom one-hundred and ten gallon tank I’d made. Allen is pretty handy with wood work so I “let” him help here and there. We had special glass cut for the front panels, and we siliconed our own aquarium together. I had researched for months and planned the whole tank design. It was a bit of an obsession for a while there. I can get like that, you know stuck on something. We talked it through and built both the tank and stand to make water changes and maintenance as easy as possible. So easy I could do it myself, but in the end it is still my tank. They are my fish and coral, and my responsibility. Allen and Molly love watching them, but they’d both rather leave maintenance to me and just enjoy them. Getting to work, I drop the clogged filter sock into an old butter dish and put a new one in the sump. I scrub some algae loose from the sides of the sump and the display tank. The whole time I relish in the not so private pleasure that my hidden diaper is bringing me. Allen and Molly don’t make it back into the living room until after I finish up with the tank which is a clear loss for Allen. I was flashing padded ass cheeks left and right! I sit down on the loveseat with my aquarium directly to my right. Allen comes in with popcorn and Molly is carrying some cans of pop. “Allen, you’re spoiling me!” I tell him lovingly. “There’s no one I’d rather spoil more, except maybe my princess.” He says sitting the popcorn down and hugging Molly. Soda goes right through me. I wonder if he’s figured out my diapered situation? Molly has a little bean bag chair in the rough shape of a recliner. It’s pink and covered in ponies. She pulls it up beside her father's legs. I tuck my feet up under me sitting side saddle facing the TV with the tank on my right, Allen on my left, and the hidden diaper on my butt. It is heaven for me. I pull my fleece gown up a bit so I didn’t feel like I’m trapped in the shirt. Claustrophobia inside one’s own night gown sounds goofy, but wake me up tangled like a burrito and watch me flip the hell out! I purposefully flash him my pantie clad rear end. I bet if he tries hard, he could make out the outline of the diaper in the tight material. The abstract pattern on this pair probably prevents visible edges. I smirk behind my popcorn. It’s thrilling. Sitting here diapered is so innocently naughty, so inappropriately comfortable. I wiggle around excessively trying to get comfortable. I’m purposely filling the air with crinkles. I feel like a kid again excited about the unknown parts of sex with my partner. It’s fucking amazing. This could be addictive… I ponder. Allen just has no reason to look for that sound coming from my rear end despite me being this close to him. Besides, Molly is having trouble being still and clouding the air with diaper noises. One of my true pleasures in life is people watching. Watching them fight sleep is very entertaining too, especially toddlers. She’s wiggling all over the place even shaking her head trying to stay awake. He has no real reason to believe it’s me. Nothing but the sound even connects the noises with my hidden secret. Allen just laughs while watching Molly watch the movie. We’ve seen it a million times, so we mostly “people-watch” her while she watches her favorite parts. Allen gets out his tablet and starts reading some fantasy novel or another. The man reads all the time! I keep wiggling around and smirking behind my drink and popcorn. Once he draws the connection it’ll be obvious like a blinking neon sign, but apparently not until then. I decide to up my flirty game. I stretch out my legs until they are touching Allen. He looks over at me with an inquisitive look on his face. I just smile and rub his thigh with my foot. We aren’t very adventurous in the bedroom, but neither of us were board either. We were just happy, and happy is ok too. Allen reaches down and rubs my sock covered feet. It feels heavenly and I can’t help the little moans that escape my salty lips. Damn, this feels so nice. His strong hands cause me to writhe in happiness, hidden pleasure, and with a touch of pain. Turns out, my feet are knotted up muscle mess and I really needed a message. “Mommy, u k?” Molly askes. “Yeah Doodlebug, mommies feet hurt and Daddy is fixing it. It kind of hurts, but makes me feel better when he’s done. Daddy is super strong.” I explain. My little goofball just looks at us and then uprights herself. She throws her legs over mine with her head in the seat of her chair. She’s totally upside down at this point. I cringe knowing this is going to wake her up a bit. “Daddy fix my feets too.” She asks/demands. “Mommy, I’ve only got one hand. Can I fix Molly’s feet?” Allen. “Of course Daddy will, Molly will probably feel so good she’ll fall asleep.” I tease my inverted yawning daughter. I love a foot rub, the intimate contact, the message itself. It always feels great just because someone cares enough to spend the time on me. I’ll spend the time on Allen later, and he knows it making him an eager participant. After a few minutes I have Molly sit up, “Ok Doodlebug, right yourself. You're showing your panties to God and everyone.” Molly “eeped” in that little girl way and swirls around having been totally ignorant of her exposure. Allen had rubbed her feet for a few minutes and that had relaxed her enough that she’d nearly fallen asleep upside down! Turning around like that will keep her up a few minutes longer, but it couldn’t be avoided. He resumes his one handed mission to turn my feet in the well kneaded butter, it was melting me too! I take whichever foot that he isn’t working on and keep a steady rub on his thigh. I’m craving a different kind of contact, but this will have to do for now. Molly throws a last yawn around the room before simply leaning over and falling asleep. We wait a few moments after her head goes slack in her bean bag recliner, then Allen turns off the movie. I get up slowly so as not to spook her, and clear a path through the toys in her room. Allen follows me into her bedroom after having given me enough time to clean up a bit. He lays our Doodlebug Princess down for the night. We pray over her and sneak out of her room. Closing the bedroom door is always the trickiest part with the highest risk of waking her, but we manage. I head for the living room and Allen makes for the bathroom to get his shower. I’m tip toeing around my house picking up toys, bowls, and popcorn kernels. I hear my crinkling and it just ups my arousal. A bit of a wicked thought strikes me while I’m sitting in the living room by myself. I realize that diapers are going to be a part of my life from here on out, if for nothing else, randomly injecting some fun into our love life. I’d never given them a second thought beyond protecting stuff from Molly’s leaky rear end, but I have now. I commit myself to teasing Allen with my diaper covered ass. I slip my panties down freeing the diaper. I hope this thing will stay on without my panties. God, this feels like the first time I wore lingerie. How weird is that! ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 5. I sit gingerly down on the couch. My Momma-ass spreads wider than I’d like as I sit. The tape and hook/loop tabs of the child’s diaper dig into my hips as my shape changes. Nothing pops loose, nor do I hear the sound of the hook and loop pulling free. I smile to myself and wiggle my butt a bit against the couch. I'm rewarded with the lovely crinkle that accompanies the cover of my diaper. I also hear a hook or two pop loose as I played, but the tapes don’t come off. I press my hand tightly into my hips reseating the tapes. I end up sitting out there with my panties on the floor in front of the couch wearing only my nightgown and socks. After a few moments, my head clears up and another teasing thought occurs to me. I’ve never been this forward or aggressive with my own desires. My husband is a young virile man. I’ve always been the bottleneck in our love making not the catalyst. Allen is ALWAYS ready. I smile to myself standing up and picking up my panties with my toes. I toss them in my bedroom on the floor in front of the bathroom door. I bait my trap with the best cheese a married mouse has, my vagina! I know I want to wear a better fitting diaper, and I’d be petrified of my sudden crashing desire for them if Allen hadn’t been so turned on by this situation. Instead, I giggle excited like it was my first time walking back to the living room. Something about these diapers appeals to me. Uncharacteristically, I don’t find myself over analyzing things. I realize that my anxious nature seems pacified for the moment, and I try to just relax and enjoy it like Allen is always telling me too. I’m a whole hog kind of girl. Once I decide I’m into something, I do jump in the deep end with gusto. I mean, I seriously have 3D renderings of my aquarium, sump, stand, and cabinetry that we made. Hell, I had to learn Google Sketchup to build and test everything which is a whole different obsession that grew from the simple idea of keeping fish and coral. Holy Crap! If I don’t get a handle on these new impulses I’m going to end up throwing my whole damn pantie drawer away! I’d end up filling my closet drawers with diapers! The thought just causes me to smile and wiggle my ass instead of freaking out and nibbling my finger nails like I normally would have. Running around my living room carefree and diapered is another new liberating experience for me. Allen comes in the living room in his boxers and just stops to stare at me. I’m dancing around to the music in my head and smiling to the world about my unconventional underwear. He sneaks up on me and glues himself to my backside. He’s clearly still excited from seeing me earlier. I feel a flush of heat realizing that I’m standing there in my diaper in front of him, even if he doesn’t know. I can feel the evidence of that excitement even through my padding. Just when I think my level of arousal can’t elevate, he finds a way to do it again. I can’t wait for him to discover my new… packaging. Suddenly, I’m a woman possessed. A wild thing growls out from my throat as I grind backward into my husband. I bend down to the coffee table and start my sexy Pandora station. Allen and my diaper are really pushing all my buttons. I can hear the diaper crinkle with every gyration I make. I swing my hips in time with the beat of the music teasing both of us. I feel like I’m on the edge of every nerve in my body. It’s fantastic. I feel sexy. I feel seductive, and my poor husband doesn’t even know what has overcome my normally docile demeanor. I crack a smile, Diapers are making me more bold. How screwy is that!?! Allen reaches down above my panty line and starts to inch my nightgown up my legs. He continues to wad the fabric up in his hands. I swear the crinkle seem to grow louder every centimeter the gown rises. “Suddenly, I'm all hot Hon. Just take it off me, and let's go to our room.” Me. “Your wish is my command my lady.” Allen carries on playfully. I wiggle out of my less than sexy nightgown as I turn to face him. He pulls the top over my head slowly exposing my breasts, but not the diaper. I’m too close to him for him to see it yet. I pull him into a hungry kiss continuing to distract him. I grind against his leg marveling at his muscular thighs and how they feel beneath the padding on my crotch. “Take me to bed lover.” I purr into his mouth. I think he grunts but I'm not sure. I crawl up him straddling his stomach and locking my legs around his waist. We continue to make out as I cling to him like a baby monkey. We make the night rounds shutting off lights and locking up the house in fits of amorous laughter nor breaking the long kiss. “Get me a water honey.” I growl into his mouth still undetected. Allen redirects us to the kitchen, and I grab a bottle of water as we pass by killing the kitchen lights. Suddenly, one of Allen’s skillet sized hands cups my diapered ass easily encompassing an entire cheek. He presses my pelvis against his fluffy abs, and redoubles his affections on my neck. “Oh my god.” His gravelly voice pours into my ear as he finally comprehends my diapered state. “Same one?” Allen took his turn growling. “Nope. I’m crinkly, dry, and clean.” I manage in return biting at his ear. “You put on a new one for me?” He rumbles. “I think I put it on for both of us.” I admit feeling the blush on my skin from head to toe. Allen’s other hand leaves my back and directly grabs my diaper covered tushie. All the way to the bedroom, Allen runs his hands over my new underwear. He traces every edge he can get to playing with the elastic around my legs and waist. I start to slide down my husband when as enter the bedroom, but I stop when I feel his excitement pressing against my padded kitty. If ever there is a time for a human to purr it is right fucking now! I do my best giving him a human purr against his hairy chest. Allen pulls me back up and kisses my mouth like he had before we got married. If I had any doubts, any at all, that kiss removes them. He’s totally into this! We aren’t a kinky couple, but it seems we’ve have stumbled on something a bit off of center. This whole thing is driving me wild and I’m dripping with excitement. It feels like it’s driving him wild too. We have a thing! I think smiling into Allen’s aggressive kisses. Abruptly, I’m flying through the air. I laugh arching through space grunting on impact. I hit our bed a giggly umph. A fit of laughs assault me as my large husband crawls up the bed between my legs and re-tapes my diaper where it had popped loose. It’s heavenly and I make noises to let him know I approve. Allen rises up on his knees taking in my mostly naked visage. My flushed chest heaves with the rush of excitement. I’m not the teenager I was a few years ago, and seeing that look in his eye is the most flattering thing in the world. I find myself waiting patiently for something. I just don’t know what yet. “Babe, I swear you in this diaper is the hottest thing I have ever seen.” He tells me jumping up from the bed. He grabs his phone from the nightstand where he’d left it while he showered. If Allen has a weird thing, it’s how often the man showers. Meh, we all have something! He smiles at me and nods toward his phone. Allen travels for work occasionally. I have always allowed him to take pictures of me. He keeps them on a password protected website that we both have access too, but I administrate. He’s not supposed to be able to get the pictures off there, but I trust him so I don’t lose sleep over whether he can or not. They aren’t on his phone for his buddies or employees to stumble across, and I can access it and remove the stuff I don’t like or change the password at will which I do frequently. I setup the account so that if he ever leaves me he can’t reset the password. I know he could probably get around the no download settings and save them, but I trusted him enough to marry him so... I tug the sheet across my midsection to cover my tummy. I partially obscure my chest and diaper, but this is my permission to his request to take pictures. He just smiles and starts clicking away. He poses me and snaps pictures until we can’t take it anymore. I guess he’s afraid he’ll never see me this way again and wanted the record the night for his personal time or when he was away. I don’t mind, better me than someone else as his fapping material. It always makes a girl feel powerful to turn her man on. I’d go in and crop my face out of these pictures later anyway, but for right now I get even more excited thinking about him stroking himself looking at these pictures. After what seems like forever, Allen finally touches me. I’ve been in a wanton state for so long that my little diaper is literally damp, but not because of any traffic related accidents this time. I wet this one with anticipation. He puts the phone down and crawls up in the bed to lie beside me. His hands and mouth wander everywhere. I fall in love with the sound and feel of the diaper as he plays with me. The feeling inside my diaper as he runs his fingers along the outside of the leg gathers is amazing! It is the most tantalizing thing I have ever experienced. I feel like a teenager again getting felt up for the very first time. This feeling of renewed sexuality is driving me nuts. “Time to unwrap my pretty princess.” Allen says breathlessly. Then I remember that I have another surprise waiting for him. I’m totally shaven for the first time in like four years. Depending on how he reacts, I intend to stay shaved for a good long while! It feels terrific in my diaper. “Holy Shit! Just when I thought this couldn’t get any better.” Allen looks at me lustfully and amazed. His camera is instantly in his hands again, and he is clicking away at my shaven crotch resting in my opened diaper. My hips involuntarily grind against the open air in excitement. “Take me Allen.” I insist reaching my limit. He leaves the diaper under me and assaults my kitty. After bringing me off a few times orally, Allen takes me with an animal passion. The diaper lies forgotten on the floor by the side of our bed. When we finish and roll over to our backs panting and staring at the ceiling, I decide I rather enjoy the reaction my unconventional underwear sparks in my man. That thought brings a big smile to my face. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 6. “You animal. That was perfect. I don’t think I can move.” I say sighing happily.“Yup. *pant* it was *pant* amazing. Thank you so much for wearing that for me. It must have been weird for you, but I really appreciate it. You looked so freaking sexy!”He still thinks I did that for him. He thinks that I wore the diaper because it made him horney. No wonder he took so many pictures. He thinks I'll never wear one again!“Babe, after my shower I was walking past Molly’s room and I sort of followed a pull, and put that other diaper on. You sort of caught me prancing around in it enjoying the feeling of my shaved kitty against the diaper.” I say blushing but confidently.“You mean you wore that for you and not me huh… Well, I guess I’m thankful either way, but why did you want to wear another one?” Allen.“Awe, I don’t know. They were super comfortable. It turned you on a lot. I sort of liked their feel. I felt naughty. I love turning you on.” I tick off on my fingers.“Oh yes it did.” He interrupts trailing his fingers down my side.“I don’t know. I didn’t think of wearing another one until after I finished using the first one.” I blush… again.“What do you mean baby.” Allen says wiggling his eyebrows, the old pet name implying something new between us.“I sort of wanted to see if it could hold, ya know, everything.” I mumble.“Did it?”“Almost, but those are a little small on me. When I get some that fit me better, I don’t think I’ll have that trouble.” I tell him thinking out loud with no leash on my tongue.“When you get bigger ones? This gets to happen again?” He asks in a hushed tone.“I want it to. It drove you nuts, and I was kind of already there. I can’t believe how turned on I was.” I admit.“Was that a four or five?”“We just moved her into the fives. I saw sixes at Walmart though.” I hint.“We need anything else from the store?”“List on the fridge. Whooo… Al, it’s like nine-thirty. Stay in bed.” I exhale totally exhausted.“I'll be back baby.” He chimes entirely ignoring me.“I’ll be right here then. I can’t really move yet anyway.” I yawn.He leaves the room headed for the bathroom. I, however, have trouble relaxing back into my post sex numbness. I feel restless lying there naked, but still too weak to do anything about it. I just can’t get comfortable. Something just doesn’t feel right. A smile creeps across my face. I know what I want. No, not what I want, I know what I need. I wiggle and scoot to the edge of our California king sized bed. I reach down to recover my discarded diaper, but that’s about as far as I get.I let out a breath and sort of fall asleep with my arm hanging off our bed. I don’t mean to. I had meant to put my diaper back on and curl up in the bed. Instead, I hear Allen’s phone click again. I can’t be bothered to care. He smiles at me and my eyes flitter closed again. I feel Allen put the diaper back on me. It seems like it’s easier for him get it on me than it was for me to put it on the first time. I must have stretched it out. My knees stay butterflied open and he pats my thigh standing up. I hear the door close and roll over falling back to sleep. I float halfway awake and sigh into these new unidentified emotions. I crawl my crinkly butt back up to my pillow and stretch my diminutive body out. I fall back to sleep waiting on Allen to get out back from the store. I “eep” dramatically waking up to Allen rolling my hips over and pulling me to the edge of the bed. I look into his eyes. They are still hungry for me. I grind my hips against my padding and decide that I’m getting aroused all over again. I call him to me and he takes me again. We haven’t had sex twice in one night since Molly was born. This time is amazing too, but it’s slower and more caring. My diaper doesn’t survive this go around. He rips it straight off my hips. Thankfully, it rips at the sides and doesn’t spill the inner crumbly stuff everywhere! We make slow happy easy love until we both pass out naked with Allen still inside me. Sometime around three AM, I weasel around our big bed until I my feet hit the floor and head toward my bathroom, nature is screaming at me. At that point a shower was the fastest way to go potty and clean up. I jelly leg out of the shower at half past three AM. I’m dry, freshly shaven (again), and lotioned up. I head back to the bedroom. “All clean?” Allen asks groggily.“Yup.” I smile wearing nothing but the towel on my head.Allen reaches across the bed and grabs a bag of size six Luvs diapers. There is no need to fake my smile, or try to hide how happy I am. I’m sure he'd be able to tell if I tried anyway. I just can’t figure out why I’m reacting this way.He tosses it to me and I fall even more in love with the diapers and my man. Even the dang package crinkles perfectly in my hands. I flush with happiness and anticipation, and a splash of embarrassment. He chuckles heading for another well-deserved shower.I tear open my very own stash of diapers, and can’t be happier to have them. Doodlebug isn’t going to be the only diapered princess around here anymore. I usually sleep in just my panties, but that didn't feel right with the diaper. I fish around and find one of Allen's wife-beater undershirts. I pull it over me for a top. It fits tightly across my moderate bosom. I look around a bit and notice it leaves some killer side boob!I giggle to myself and easily tug his shirt between my legs. I look a bit like I was wearing one of Molly’s snap crotch onesies. I add that to my list of things I suddenly need.Abandoning my playful thoughts, fatigue catches up with me again. I yawn a great big face splitting yawn and fall into bed. I pass out on top of the covers in wonder that he’d run off in the middle of the night for me like that. Allen turns down the air and tucks me under the covers coming after coming out of the bathroom.And that's how I wake up at about six am dying to pee again. I rub my eyes and look at my phone. No point in holding it till eight (when Molly usually wakes up on the weekends), I just decide to get up and go. I’m pretty sure I'll fall back to sleep pretty fast, I’m still pleasantly exhausted.I roll onto my back so I can scoot off my side of the bed. That movement reminds me of my diaper as I slide across the mattress. I smile and immediately and try to relax. I don’t know how much I have to go so I took about fifteen minutes to slowly fill the diaper. Hehehe yay no leaks! Slows the way to go. OMG! I should wear these just so I don’t have to get up three or four times a night!I yawn, stretch, roll to my side and pass back out. My diaper is warm and squishy as I pass out. I love it and sleep reclaims me swiftly. I wake up disoriented because my alarm hadn’t gone off. I’m flat of my back with my knees in the air. Suddenly, there is a rush of cold air against my very warm crotch. Allen is changing my diaper!He notices me looking at him, “Princess Mommy! I figured you could use some help. My shirt looks awesome on you by the way.”“Uh… That was on purpose.” I say pointing at the used diaper beside me.“Figured. On purpose for now huh?” He says patting my newly re-diapered crotch.“I wasn’t planning on wearing another one today.” I admit.“The best laid plans of mice and men oft go awry.” He teases. Allen has to work today, so I roll over happy and dry, maybe feeling a touch confused. He's gone by the time my alarm chirps at me. With Allen at work, I’m in no danger of being discovered by my three year old. I saunter into the kitchen for coffee in just his undershirt and my diaper. Lots of cream and sugar later, I sit on my side of the couch. I tug my legs up and enjoy the first few sips of my coffee. I stare at my fish tank taking my time waking up. This is my “me” time. My hand drifts to my diapered crotch and an evil grin slides across my face.Behind my smile, I ponder my new underwear and my wardrobe. If I wear something tight everyone would know. If I wear something too loose I'll have the sound to contend with.Too bad I don't have any button crotch leotards. I could wear diapers with a skirt or slacks. I could wear jeans, but I hate to do that for work…I can’t believe I’m even thinking about wearing a diaper out of the house!I sit there staring at my fish swimming around and go through my closet in my mind. I have dressed my diapered Doodlebug for the better part of four years, but never paid the slightest bit of attention to hiding her diapers. I suppose there were handicap people everywhere around me wearing them that I haven’t noticed. So, it can be done…Just have to try things till I figure it out. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 7. By the time I finish my coffee, I have a choice of clothes firmly in mind. I’ll have to try on a few things to make sure, but I think I have Monday figured out too. That takes care of diapers with casual and work clothes, well if they work!I rinse my number one Mom cup, fill the coffee pot back up with coffee grounds and water, and absentmindedly scratch at my diaper. Stretching, I reach over and set the timer for tomorrow morning. I want to kiss that coffee pot every morning when she greets me with that rich drink of happy morning goodness!God bless you morning happiness fairy!I take my time heading to my bedroom simply enjoying the sound of my diaper crinkling in the silent house. Sitting on the edge of my bed, I comb out my hair. I follow my normal morning routine only I do it diapered.A bit later in my bathroom, I wash my face and brush my teeth still lounging in Allen's shirt. I eventually resin myself to getting on with my day. I pat my diapered butt and head over to my closet.Let’s do this!I reluctantly slip out of his shirt and into my pants suit. I want to see how my work clothes fit first. I’m not super interested in any well-meaning three year old assistance while re-designing my wardrobe around my new diapers, so I want to get this done while Molly is still drooling on her pillow. A few giggles and a stray thought or two hit me. I might actually want to wear a diaper to work. What the hell? I have an office meeting Monday morning I’d forgotten about. At least I could fight off the drowsiness knowing what was under my suit…I’m constantly in business meetings including several video conferences. They happen every day whether I’m in the office or telecommuting. My whole team knows I’m working from home these days, but I still feel compelled to maintain business appropriate dress, so my infrequent trips into work don’t change my daily routine much other than the drive in and out of town. I twist and turn checking my pantsuit from several angles in my dressing mirror. The small diaper doesn’t disrupt the drape of the material. The pants are much better at hiding my diaper than I’d have thought. My perky boobs leave tremendously flattering cleavage staring back at me in the mirror from the confines of my suit jacket. I’ll need a peach onesie to tie this all together. But I still feel sexy as hell.Happy with the suit, I switch into some jean shorts and a tank top taking time to put on a light coating of makeup. I stretch my arms over my head and see the diaper peeking out over the top of my low cut shorts. I tuck in the tank top to prevent accidentally flashing the world. The peek-a-boo my diaper was doing draws my attention again to onesies and their practicality. It’s finally time to get Molly rolling. I repeat much of my prep time on her, minus the coffee and makeup! I dress her in her onesie and a skirt, because that's what I'd rather be wearing! I make mental notes on how easy that would be to change my own diaper.“Where’s Daddy?” Molly asks me.“He had to work a bit today. He’ll be home around lunch Molls.”“K, Can I has a poptart Mommy?”“Yeah, orange juice or apple?”“Apple.” She asserts.I make some toast and slather some strawberry jam to go with a glass of orange juice. I take Molly a piece of toast and jam with her poptart. Her tummy is legendarily fickle. Molly isn’t fully woken up yet and sort of spaces out while eating her poptart. I want to grab a couple of leotards today. It’d be ungrateful to be mad at Allen, but I wish he’d have gotten the Wal-mart list last night. It seems he only got the one “vital” thing. I giggle. I need to run by PetSmart for some fish food too.I continue to plan a morning of running errands and scheduling the stops where I won’t lose Molly’s attention. She’s a great kid, but if she gets tired and board… Well, she can get pretty whiney. That’s not my favorite version of Molly to run around town with! We finish up breakfast and clean up after ourselves. Molly seems set on a real effort at “big girl” today. She brings me all the dishes and insists on helping me rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. Molly skips and sings lyrics from Frozen while we finish up.Cute little thing! These are the kinds of mornings you remember your whole life. I feel a twinge in my bladder. My coffee is making its way through me already. Coffee and soda have always had a fast track through my bladder, but it’s been worse since Molly was born.“Doodlebug, why don’t we set you up some TV? Mommy’s gotta potty.” I tell her in third person.Why do we do that? I think deciding I need to invest some pronouns on Molly’s education. [Me] Need anything not on the list? Molls and I are hitting the stores. You may beat us home. I text Allen leaving Molly with Frozen playing while I took off for the bathroom. I don’t expect a return text. Allen will be working hard to finish working so he can get home to us. I realize that I’m headed to the bathroom while wearing one. It’s a more than a little ironic and I laugh at myself. I freeze in the middle of my bedroom. I work to relax my bladder giving my body permission to relieve itself. Which, as it turns out, is super hard to do. I go a bit but can’t fully release. Making my way to Molly’s bedroom, I allow dribbles out between my stepw. I pack her diaper a bag and head back toward the living room. The diaper is quiet enough in the jean shorts that I don’t notice my own sounds. I approach the living room and pause. Should I wear one to the store? God, I can’t believe I was about to leave the house in a wet diaper. I put off the decision and yell at Molly that I have her bag packed and am heading to the bathroom. She’s snuggled up to Olaf on the couch watching her movie and yells back an “ok” at me. Standing in front of my mirror, I shuck my jean shorts and stare at myself in my tank top and diaper. I can see the number six proudly telling the world that it’s mine. The diaper is tight, but I can fit in a baby diaper! These don’t seem near as apt to pop loose either, but they don’t offer full butt cheek coverage, so that’s a minus. On an impulse, I stick my thumb in my mouth, but that immediately feels wrong. I yank it out and wipe it off almost violently. I pose sexily in front of the mirror feeling much more natural in my skin with the thumb out of my mouth. Nope, that’s not for me for sure. I adore how this feels, even soggy. But, I don’t want to sit around with my thumb in my mouth like Molls does. I’m a big girl. I don’t think about it anymore. I untape the diaper and throw it in the bathroom trash the mood being slightly spoiled with my thumb experiment. I squirt some air freshener directly into the trashcan and finish my business in the toilet. Back in my bedroom, I slide a yellow pair of boyshort panties up my legs with a winking smiley face settling on my butt.I pull my shorts back up my legs ready to start my day. Dressed like an adult, I approach my daughter in the living room. I shove my cell phone in my back pocket and grab my purse shouldering Molly’s bag. Entering the living room, I have a sudden change of heart and race off to Molls room to change out her bag. She can be a big girl too. It’s time she starts hauling her own crap around. I’m no pack mule! Plus, she needs some more dignity. I stuff a skirt, some wipes, and a couple size fives in the tiny backpack I’d bought her. It looks like a tiny pink canvas hiking backpack, suitability girly and less childlike. In fact, I bought it because it looks a lot like my business laptop bag. “Here you are Doodlebug. Mommy, er… I mean ‘I’ packed your bag so you can carry it like M… er ‘I’ carry my purse!” I tell her excitedly tripping over my new resolution to introduce some pronouns.“K Mommy! Mowwy wubs it!” I can almost hear Allen correcting her. Nope, I’m not going to do it. She’s too cute. She doesn’t ever need to grow up! Lord knows she’ll never have a sibling! I don’t suffer from the labor amnesia like some women do, and the changes in my body are to pronounced to risk it again. Molly trundles over to me and I slip the backpack over her arms cinching up the straps sizing it to her little back. Molly sways a bit as she adjusts to the weight. She looks like she’s headed out for a super cute hike. I smile widely appreciating my daughter. I’m just happy she’s mine and it makes my heart melt. I snatch her up, backpack and all, cradling her little diapered butt on my arm hugging the life out of her. I kiss her all over her face tickling her with my bangs.“Stop Mommy! It tickles!” “Never!” “Mommy!” “Muah, Muah, Muah” “Mommy! I’m gonna pee!” “Muah”“Mom….eee”“One too many tickly kisses huh? Someone’s butt is warm!”“Meeee!”“No worries Doodlebug. That’s what your diapers are for honey.” That’s what He said! I quip internally thinking of Allen.“I know.” “Let’s get you all cleaned up Molls.” I sit her down and take her hand. We head to Molly’s room for a quick dry-butt. Molly is flat of her back and I’m tugging her new diaper up between her legs when my own crotch feels the absence of a diaper. A sudden charge of jealousy rushes through me. So, I finish her change quickly and we finally make our way out of the house.Holy Shit! What the hell was that!“Molly, baby. Today we have several stops to make ok? The last one is the pet store though. You can see the kitties! Well, you can see them if you’re a good girl for Mom… eh, me.” “Kitties! Me want the Kitties!”I get her buckled in the car and we make our way to the mall. It’s the first time I have been back in my car since I wet Molly’s diaper. I certainly feel its absence the jealousy lingering despite my wishes. Molly talks about kitties all the way to the store. I wish Allen wasn’t allergic. Molly would take such good care of cat. She’d be a terrific kitty mommy!I change my mind and we make our way to Walmart first. I grab some supplies for Molly and some things for the house. In the pharmacy area, I grab some new eye liner and get Allen his sport scented spray deodorant. I have crossed everything off the house list that isn’t food except pads. I always wear a pad these days. My tiny bladder just ain’t what she used ta be, not after Molly. I have my hand on one of Playtex’s assorted boxes when I see Poise Maximum Absorbency Incontinence Pads. My hand shakily moves toward the package. I didn’t think of that. I can get away with these can’t I? I giggle to myself.I pick up the package and then reach back down to grab another. I decided that these could do for work and everyday life. Even if I am caught wearing them, I’m expected to be! I’m about to leave when my eye catches something right there next to those pads. I see the Depends Maximum Overnight Protection. My bottom lip tucks between my teeth. I bite down working it nervously. My palms turn clammy and my heart races. I feel drawn to them. “Mommy. Da mobies stopped.” Molly says jolting me from the stupor.I reach out and take my phone reloading YouTube Kids. I literally shake my head trying to free myself of the gravitational pull of that ridiculous green package. It won’t be denied though. My eyes move of their own accord. With Molly distracted, my hands move rotating my shoulders. I grasp the small size and rotate the bag. The waist size seems ok. They feel amazing. The bag itself feels like a diaper within a diaper. It has an amazing rubbery plastic feel and a marvelous sound. I feel drawn to it like a starving survivor to a juicy cooked steak. I re-arrange the cart hiding the diapers around between the boxes of pads. We grab several things and cover the contents of the cart. I haven’t found the courage to walk out with my head high and proud holding a package of diapers. Nope, not yet. We make our way to the check out and then to the car while I try not to die of embarrassment. I load up the trunk swapping out my stash of car pads in the console and my purse with my new ones. We drive to our next stop, the mall! Molly and I make our way to the family bathroom where I change her and she stands in the stall with me facing the door watching YouTube on my phone. I grab on of the incontinence pads and swap it out with the lightly damp thin panty liner that I have on. I poke at the pad and notice that it’s slightly longer than the back of my panties. I adjust the pad forward so that it won’t make any unplanned appearances while we are shopping. I tug up my shorts and freshly lined panties. God, this feels just like my diaper only with better sides. I wonder if I can use these like a diaper?I wiggle my butt and stand and sit a few times.Good, I can’t hear these any more than my Luvs. “Mommy, zat a diaper?” “No Molls. It’s a pad for grown up girls.” “K”Molly thought she had me cornered, but when I denied that the pads are diapers she believed me and lost interest quickly. Staring at the phone, Molly froze for a moment.My baby just peed I’ll bet.I reach down and check her formerly fresh diaper finding it slightly squishy.“Sorry Mommy.” Molly says sniffling. “That’s what they’re for Princess.” I tell her ruffling her hair. We make our way to the sink where we wash our hands. Then I stand her on sink to freshen up my makeup and let her play in the mirror a bit. Feeling fully “put together”, I wet my hands and tame Molly’s fuzzy thin hair. Hand in hand we make our way to Claire’s.“Mommy! Mommy! Can I has dis?”“May I have this?” I correct.“May I has dis.” She tries. “Give it here. Let me see it.” The cute knit hat has some wireframe kitty ears covered in plastic gems. The little hat is amazingly adorable. I cave because it’s cute and we really are here to distract Molly for a bit. I let her wear it around the store with the tag hanging off. Molly just holds things up meowing at me the rest of the time in Claire’s. She has me cracking up by the time we leave. “Next stop is JCPenny Molls. Mommy needs some new shirts like yours.” God! Why am I so excited to about this shit? This pad is bigger than my diaper was. I shimmy my hips playing with the humongous pad between them while walking through the mall holding Molly’s hand. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 8. I change Molly at JCPenny before we start shopping, she had clearly wet several times.Look Molls, I get it. They are comfortable. It’s hard for you. If kids wouldn’t make fun of you, I wouldn’t even ask you to worry about using the potty baby. I’m sorry. I really do believe it’s best for you in the long run. Mommy knows it’s hard to make it when your body doesn’t cooperate. “Listen Molls. Are you listening?” “Yeah Mommy.”“Baby, you have to try and use the potty. It’s an important part of growing up to be a big girl. Do you understand?”“Mommy, you said dats what der for?” She asks me. “I know, baby. It’s… well, that is what they are for. If you have an accident, it’s ok. Maybe just tell Momm… I mean me if you have an accident. Tell me. Accidents are ok. You can’t stop those.”“I jus happens. Poof and potty in my pants.” Her arms gesticulate.“And that’s fine baby, your right. That’s what your diapers are for. Just tell me when it happens so I know, and don’t use your diapers if you can find a potty. Ok?”“OK.” Molly says defeated. “I don’t like da potty.” She mutters under her breath. Why do I feel dirty? I know it’s important for her. Gah! Being the Mom sucks sometimes!I grab a cart and pick Molls up putting her in the child’s seat. She’s engrossed in my phone while I wander the isles. I need some leotards, the snap crotch ones specifically, but the labels call them bodysuits now.Whatever, they’re onesies! I think reading a tag on a top.“Look Mommy, el-la-lants is weally stwong!” She points at the video about elephants she’s watching.“El-ah-phants” I articulate. We aren’t hurting for money, but I grew up frugal and I always will be. I browse for sales eyeballing cute tops while we make our first pass in the store. There are several designs with various necklines and some with lace around the collar. I move back through all the tops. My eyes land on my new favorite top. I fall in love immediately. It is a blue velvet bodysuit by Arizona with several lacey strings crossing over the cleavage creating a beautiful design. I drape one over the cart along with a few others, including a set of five plain white ones from the underwear section. We head off to the dressing rooms so I can try on these new onesies. The closer we get, the more excited I find myself. Raising Molly is full of Awe inspiring moments, but I’ve been through some stuff college, falling in love, getting married, buying a house, working in marketing, being a stay at home mom, and a part time mom/work from home employee. I’m sure I still have a lot of experiences left to discover in life, but everything about my diapers seems to be thrilling me in new and exciting ways. It’s a bit like re-experiencing my own life with a new filter on the movie, like re-watching black and white memories in full technicolor.Even this simple act of trying on adult clothing that functions the same as Molly’s toddler clothes is exciting me. I hurry into a stall closing and locking the door. I check the bench for lingering push pins and sit Molly down starting a game on my phone. I try on the peach onesie I got for work Monday. Ok. Cool. It fits. Let’s button this thing up. Huh, I can feel the snaps. Don’t like that. You will be wearing a diaper there’s no way you will be able to feel them then. Oh yeah!God, the cut on these are different than Molls. Sexier. Thinner in the crotch. Higher in the hips. I hope the velvet one fits better. My diaper will hang out all over in this one.I run my hands over the crotch of the shirt protected from my smooth skin by a layer of yellow smiley faced hipster panties and a thin pad. I can feel the ridges in my finger print bumping over the ribbed material of the top through the panties on my shaved crotch. OMG! That’s so erotic. Even covered in two layers of fabric and a thick pad, I feel naked to the touch. This is fucking amazing. I can’t wait to feel my diaper pressed in tightly with these. Ok, God please let this fit. I thought grabbing my favorite velvet top.I try on the top. The snaps hit a little further forward than the peach one. It’s far more comfortable than the first one I’d tired on. It comes down over my hips following my hipster panty line pretty closely. I spin in the mirror adjusting the straps on the top tying the fanciest bow I could manage leaving the string hanging low over my boobs.I love it when my favorite is the best. My girls look amazing in this. I push them together, pull them apart, and lift them high and low. Who doesn’t love a top that looks this good no matter where my boobs roam off to! This may be my favorite top in my whole closet! My God this velvet feels so good.Wonder how it’d feel without a bra? I file that thought away for later.I decide to wear the top out leaving the tags on it. I’d never reacted badly to new clothes, so I wasn’t concerned about wearing it out of the shop. The cashier smiles at me scanning the tags under my arm along with the rest of my clothes. She can tell I was in love with the top and compliments me on how it looks on me while asking my “kitty” tons of cat questions. Turns out Molly likes the taste of field mice the best… HA!I’m very much excited to get home. I look down at my watch seeing it is now about eleven twenty. We head to the car with our bags of goodies hand in hand. Molly looks so grown up. My tall little Doodlebug looks twice her age with her height and the backpack, like a grade schooler off to conquer the world. How tall will my little amazon be when she’s really eight, thirteen, twenty? “I love you Doodlebug.” I sniff.“Whaz wrong Mommy?”“Nothing Molls. I was just thinking you look like a beautiful big girl instead of my tiny baby girl.” “Yup. Imma big girl”“Gettin there huh?” I chuckle ruffling her hair. “Mommy I’m wet K?” “Did you have an accident? Let me see how bad.” “You’ll make it till we get home.” “It was a hack-sa-dent Mommy. I didn’t know till I was goin.”I need to pee too Doodlebug. Should I? Allen won’t care, even if I make a mess. Can these pads really hold up?We leave the mall and head for AquaWorlds, our local fish store. I promised Molly kitties. I’ll have to take her to PetSmart on the way home. I resign myself to two more stops instead of one. PetSmart doesn’t have the saltwater fish food that I need though. I’m always forgetting that. The aquarium care stuff is cheaper there, but I only need the saltwater shrimp for feeding the tank today.Well, honestly. The second stop at PetSmart would keep me from buying anything at AquaWorlds. Hey! If you don’t keep fish, you can’t understand how hard it is to walk out without a new fish, coral, or piece of equipment!Inside AquaWorlds, I prowl through their coral frags and make my way to the refrigerated shelves. I deny the impulse to add some new coral to my tank and just get the frozen shrimp. I pay for my purchases and we make our way toward the house stopping only for a few minutes for Molly to poke the adoptable kitties through their cages. She gabs on about the kitties all the way home. Pulling up at the house, I see Allen’s truck, he has beaten us home. Getting out, I finally stop to check my phone. I’d missed a couple texts from him. They aren’t anything important though, so I text him we are home and could use his help.Opps. I’ve been known to get pissed at him for that move.Standing up, I begin emptying my bladder into my inco-pad. I certainly don’t mean to. It’s one of the things I contend with now. This is the reason my panties are always lined. Instead of standing there concentrating on flexing all my muscles until I regain control, I boldly take a step forward around Molly’s open car door ignoring my leaking lady bits. Reaching my leg out for the next step releases a big spurt of pee. The small squirt and pinch move I usually pull in these situations isn’t working. Frankly, I didn’t want it to. I hold back enough that I don’t flood the pad, but every step and flex releases some tiny bit of urine. It actually feels really good not to have to worry about standing in my yard in wet shorts because of the pad. This is one of the little gifts Molly’s trip through my body left me, and it’s one of the reasons I don’t have labor amnesia like some women. I have constant biological reminders of the cost of motherhood. I don’t see as well and had to get glasses! On a positive note, I haven’t had the period-migraines since I had Molly, and I’d had them since puberty started a decade ago. That is sort of amazing to be honest.Pregnancy is still a miraculous thing. My doctor told me that pregnancy doesn’t cause these changes like the eye sight and migraine stuff, not medically. Then he went on to tell me dozens of stories about body adjustments that some of his patients had gone through after pregnancy, some temporary and some, like me, permanent. Peeing myself when I don’t feel like I have to go, just because I decide to change my personal elevation, that seems a bit extreme to me. It happens to me nonetheless. I feel the texture of my pad changing from fibrous to jelly between my legs. I decide to let my body evacuate whatever it feels like is necessary, but try to keep a heavy wetting out of the picture. I force myself not to fight the piddles. It’s a word I coined for myself. It’s what I call these little wetting episodes that just really fucking brighten my day. Ever hear of the walking farts? Well, I have the walking piddles. I take Molly’s hand and lead her, wearing her backpack diaper bag, into the house with the frozen food from the local fish store. I finally stop the piddling and plunk her down on the couch with my phone. Allen comes out of our bedroom at about the same time. I shake my head at the small fortune we spend on water for his showers.“Hi girls! Did you have a good time shopping?” Allen asks kissing my neck. “We did, huh Molls?” I ask looking at her over my shoulder.“Yup, Meow” “Did you get a kitten while you were out Mommy?” “I did! Isn’t she great!?!”“She’s not house broken though.” I whisper loudly giving her a hard time.“Moom eeee!” Molly whines like a teenager. “Wow, learn that move early don’t you girls?” Allen asks me.“The Sass is Strong in this one.” I nod sagely.“You dropping Star Wars puns is hot.” Allen says causing me to blush. Allen pats my butt while our kid is fully engrossed in an episode of SpongeBob on my phone. She’s safely distracted so we can run in and out of the house. He kisses my ear. I sigh happy and turn resting on his chest. Then I straighten up and smack his chest. “Is anyone wet today?” “Allen! Seriously!” I shout exasperated. “I un know.” Molly slurs together.“How bout Mommy? Was she a good girl? Did she keep her diaper dry?” “I did no such thing you turd!” I huff walking toward the door embarrassed to my core.“I had a hack-sa-dent Daddy. Mommy used da potty like a big giwl. She buied big giwl diapers.” “I bought Pads Molly. Pads.” I say forgetting the Depends I’d picked up altogether.“Oh relax honey. It’s ok. I love my girls whether they are wet or dry!” Allen teases.“Stay put Molly. Daddy and I will be right back. We’re just going to the car to get our stuff.” I say dragging Allen outside.“Don’t be mad baby.” Allen pleads sensing my mood.Sigh “I’m not mad Allen, well maybe a little. What we do in the bedroom doesn’t have anything to do with Molly’s little reality. Plus, you don’t go embarrassing me anymore.” I fix him with my don’t-push-mom look. “To be perfectly clear, that’s not a request. It’s an expectation. This is for me and you and no one else. I’m a lady regardless of my clothing choices, and I won’t be belittled!” “Robin, baby, I’m really sorry. I was just playing. I wasn’t trying to hurt your feelings. It was stupid and I’m really sorry.”I let him stew in his own remorse just to reinforce the point I’m making. I may not do a lot of off-center stuff in the bedroom, but come on Internet. I know, at least on the surface, what a submissive is. I am not one of those. I may be meek and a bit humble, but I’m no one’s floor matt. No offense to those who get off on that, but that ain’t me boy-o. I think and throw an angry eyebrow at Allen. I grab my shirts filling up my arms and head back into the house. ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 9. Dumping my clothes on the bed, I begin sorting out my new tops by color. I drop the white ones in my whites laundry basket, and the colors I decide to wash individually with a couple older towels each on tiny load settings. No sense in lettings these fade over something I already own.I make several mini-laundry piles and lug them into the laundry room. I decide to start the whites with some bleach first. The water begins filling while I add the bleach, but I discover a problem when I bend over to grab the white load. Apparently, I still need to pee quite a bit. I decide to put these pads to the test.No better room than the only one with a floor drain!I take a wide legged stance and relax my bladder, or try to. I fail. It’s not so much a factor of permission, but a matter of forcing muscles that I don’t EVER think about to open. I guess that’s the thing though. Maybe being flexed shut is the relaxed state for those bladder control muscles. If that’s the case, it’s a bit like doing a bladder pushup! I make a mental note to look that up. Interesting theory. I decide It’s really a mind over matter type thing. I envision a Sci-Fi type scene of casting my consciousness down the nerve synapsis to the bundles controlling my bladder. With the piddles always on the horizon, I have perhaps a stronger connection to my troubled bladder muscles than most people do. I envision my bladder as a hand tightly clasped holding something in.I lean forward bracing myself on the washing machine angling my body in a new way while trying to tug those mental fingers loose. I finally feel my control loosen and I begin to wet the incontinence pad. Suddenly, I’m releasing a full wetting onto the pad, but it’s like the pad doesn’t even try keep up.My hipster panties plus this type of pad don’t make a good pairing. The pad itself stays in a circular shape instead of flattening out gathering correctly. Apparently, I need some full on tighty-whitey granny panties. I don’t know if it fails because of being a crappy product, or because I wasn’t wearing correctly either way the pad definitely fails. I feel the pee trailing down my leg and “eep” shocked back into action. I shuck my tennis shoes and strip my socks off tossing them in the washing machine with the whites. I stand over the drain as my body finishes the business I started not having any options.Sadly, I strip out of my new favorite top that’s now soggy in the crotched. I rinse it in the utility sink and drop some water over the floor using a towel to clean up my mess. When Allen finds me a few moments later, I’m still standing there in my yellow smiley assed panties with a totally soggy incontinence pad soaked so badly it looks like it just phoned in the effort, I mean come on! “Hey Babe. Ooo, Boobs!” Allen says taking a good thirty seconds or so to notice anything else.“Shit.” I grumble when he eventually looks down.“Everything ok over there Princess?”“Awesome…” I threw him a you’re-a-dumbass eyebrow. He waves his hands, “Alright I give!” “Do you need any help Rob?”“I rinsed my top and threw my socks ‘n shoes in the whites.” I say pointing at the washer. “So what happened here? An accident?”“No… an experiment. A failed one.” “What didn’t work?”“Well, I got a new heavy wetting pad to see if I could sort of wear a diaper, but not really.”“Ok”“I piddled a lot when I got out of the car, you know… like I do.”“That’s what your pads are for baby. I really don’t care that you dribble.” “I know. I love you for it too.” I say meaning it while straddling the drain in the laundry room.“I thought this was the safest place to test em.” “I’d have went with the shower…”“Well, damn. I had to go and NOT think of that.” I admit a bit defeated.“Meh, no worries looks like you already cleaned it up.” “I was just going to strip and shower really fast. I’ll wash these panties with one of these loads.” “I’ll take care of that. You just flash me those gorgeous butt cheeks and scoot out of here.”“Allen, you don’t have to. I’m not some kid.”“Well, you certainly are playing at it.” He smirks.“Wipe that look off your face or I’ll kick your ass.”“Ma’am, Yes Ma’am.” He salutes.“God you’re impossible.” I say stripping. “Nah, I’m amazing. I clean up after wet girls around here all the time.”“A wet toddler maybe…”“Nope, I washed your wet stuff yesterday too.” “I… Oh… I… I was going to do that. You didn’t have to.” “Well, I don’t get off on handling your pee or anything, but your accidents don’t repulse me either. You certainly never will!”“Fine, you can be out of the dog house.” I tell him turning to him naked as the day I was born.“I’m going to shower. Did you get the rest of the stuff out of the car?” “Yep. On the counter.” “Will you run a kitchen wipe with bleach on the floor between here and the washer?” “Already planned to. I’ll put the rest of the bags on the bed.”“You can return or throw away those bags of pads. Even if I could figure it out, I’ll never trust them now.”“Done. I’ll just toss em. Not worth the gas or my time to take ‘em back. We should stick them all over something and then take a funny picture.” He jokes. “We’ll do no such thing. My totally manageable leaky issue and my new found love of thick underwear is no one’s business but ours mister!” I say getting a little heated again.“Sorry, not what I meant. Just thinking of that kid from AFV covered in pads the other day.”“Nope. Trash or take back. That’s your options. No negotiation.” “Trash it is!” I leave the laundry room running on my tip toes like a spooked deer. I’m genuinely upset that the pads didn’t work and that my new favorite top is in the laundry room in the sink. I totally stomp off to the bathroom pissed the hell off, just not at Allen, this time!I take my time cleaning myself and lotioning up my skin. When I get out of the shower I fix my hair and do a light coating of makeup. I feel the need to look my best for Allen after him seeing me in the laundry, all boobs out and wet panties. That’s not the look I want to foster! I paint my nails and toe nails too. By the time I’m done, I look like I’m ready to go dancing or for a night out doing something young and fun. Perfect, I think looking in my mirror. This is exactly the level of nice that I’m looking for! I look around in my Tee-Shirt drawer for something cute that will go with my nails. I find a purple My Little Pony shirt that I bought to match one Molly just had to have a few months ago.I feel like a cute day! I can be cute and sexy too. I love it. Ooo, I’ll put my hair up too!I tease my hair into a cute dangling updo with floppy bangs. It feels summery, light, and cute. I scratch at my chest and cup my breasts. I let them fall back to their resting position and smile at myself. It was a hard fight back to this shape after Molly, and I’m a bit proud despite a little remaining pudge. Naked below my shirt, I sit on my bed trying to decide what my bottom half should look like for the rest of the day. I know I want to wear a diaper. So there’s that. I guess I need to decide what I can wear with this top that will help me hide my diaper. I pilfer through my closet and the bottom drawer in my dresser. I sit out a few pieces, but struggle making up my mind. I rest my hand on my hip cocking it out to the side while I stare at my bed. My door pops open startling me. “Ahhh!” “Shhh… It’s just me baby.” “Damn honey. Scared the shit out of me.” I say resting a hand over my throbbing heart.“Didn’t mean to.” “I’m ok now.” I smile at him half naked. “You look amazing.” He smiles at me lecherously. I turn fully to him displaying my fuzz free goodies. Allen smiles the sight. I sashay over to him wiggling my hips as I walk. He stands there mesmerized by my movements. “Hey babe. I can’t decide what to wear over my diaper.” I tease.“I’m ok with nothing!” He gets a well-deserved really eye for that, but knowing him he probably thought it was worth it. “Allen…” “Bah fine. You know I wasn’t serious. I just hate to cover you up. I could stare at you all day.” “Well, we decided to have a child so… no day long ass staring for you.”“I like the new packaging anyway. Speaking of. May I?”“Please.” I giggle and move the baggy overalls I set out further up the bed. Allen takes my ankles and tugs me closer to the edge of the bed. I close my eyes to focus on the feelings. This isn’t the first time my husband has diapered me, today even, but this is the first time I am awake enough to focus on it, to enjoy it. He spreads my legs at the knees leaving then laying open like butterfly wings. My shaven kitty stares up at Allen, and I feel the air caressing my delicate places. His hands trace up my ankles gliding up the insides of my legs. They spread outward at my hips reaching under me to cup my ass tracing the back of my legs pulling them together. I moisten enjoying the luxurious feeling of Allen’s rough hands on my skin. He raises me off the bed far enough to slide a diaper under me. Immediately, I feel that this diaper is bigger than I expected. I resist the urge to open my eyes enjoying the sensory deprivation. May have to add a blindfold to the naughty drawer! ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 10. Allen fits up my diaper tugging it around to center it. This one’s incredibly crinkly. I focus my ears listening to every noise it produces. Finally, he tugs on my diaper pulling it down to the right level on my butt. I feel the diaper gathers tugging at the creases between my ass and legs as Allen pulls the diaper up. He lays the front of the diaper over my crotch and I know it’s not one of my Luvs. Struggling to keep my eyes closed, Allen cups my crotch to see where the front waist will lay. His hand shifts to my waist holding the diaper in the center. My man’s a diapering professional… mhmmmm He tucks the left front side in around my hip and tugs the back over the front panel. Allen abandons his hold on the middle of my waist, and tugs the front side for a tighter fit. He repeats the process on the other side completing the fitting. I wiggle my ass in this larger diaper enjoying the feeling of a properly sized one. It tugs and pulls in the directions of the tapes and across my waist. It feels amazingly tight and secure. I pinch my legs together bunching the diaper up between them. It crinkles seductively as I move my legs like a cricket. Allen parts my legs and lies lightly on top of me. He kisses my heart up into my throat. I drape my arms around his neck and peck his cheek. “Babe, Molly.” I say pushing him up smacking at his chest and standing up. “What am I wearing?” I ask looking down at my fully diapered ass. “I don’t know, I didn’t look. They were in the bag with your trash pads.” “Oh, I forgot I bought those. I was too pissed at the pads. I thought you’d bought me something.”“Bawahahaha!” Allen laughs. “What’s so funny?”“You said pissed at your pads that you just peed in.” “Oh pissed, I didn’t mean that as a joke. I get it.” “Oh crap… still funny though.” “Hey before you go… what bottoms?”“Uh…” He stalls looking his options over. “Oh! The overalls for sure. No doubt.” Allen takes off for the living room to check on our little Phone Zombie. I stand up and run to the full length mirror in the closet. I spin, turn, jump, bend, and gaze at myself in the mirror. I feel awesome. I feel sexy and desirable, and I feel fucking silly. I shrug off the silly and just go with happy. I tug the overalls up and clip the bibs in place. I check myself in the mirror again. I haven’t purposefully dressed cute in a good long while. I have to actually work at looking my age. An older looking girl stares back at me in the mirror. She’s a cute girl, maybe in her late. She sure doesn’t look like a mid-twenties mother! I giggle behind my hand and clap. I jump a few times feeling my bouncy bangs dance around my face. I laugh and bend over touching my toes. I can hear the diaper crinkling away loudly. It’s not as prolific as it was before I put on the overalls, but I can hear it more than I’m comfortable with. Oh, I love how this feels. God, my hips are getting a clammy already though. Gonna have to fix that. I head toward the door pondering the clammy heat around my waist and notice the noise the diaper is making is beyond my tolerance. Yeah, nope… not running around crinkling this much. Hmmm… What to do? I think tapping my chin. I go back to the laundry room inspired. I pull one of my new tops off of a pile of laundry. Pulling a baby blue onesie over my head thrills me. The cut of the onesie leaves it poking out around the collar of my shirt with the overalls, in turn, covering up the decal on pony shirt. Ultimately, I decide to peel off the pony shirt throwing in the load I’d pulled the blue onesie from after fastening up my overalls. I make my way back toward my bedroom having spent a totally conspicuous amount of time by myself at this point. I feel like I need to hurry and get out there with my family but walking by Molly’s room, I catch a whiff of baby powder and ammonia. The smell of pee is there, but faint. The biggest smell is the baby powder. I tip-toe in there and grab one of her many containers of baby powder. Back in my room, I slide my overalls down my ankles and unbutton my snap crotch pulling it up under my chin. I poof out some powder into my hand lightly coating powder around my own hips. Oh, now that’s better. Seems to be breathing fine where the padding is heavy… weird! Better run my hand around my belly too. Nice! This is… OMG! I can’t believe how good it feels to wear a diaper that really fits me! Hell, this may even be a bit too big. Better poof my pussy too! I button my blue onesie wishing I hadn’t gotten the whites load going first. I could have worn the pony shirt. I don’t like the blue with my purple nails, but the Pony top worked great with them. I pull up my overalls and button the bib leaving my feet bare. Girl’s gotta show off dem toes! I laugh at myself wiggling them in the carpet. I really stare at myself in my mirror getting ready to leave my room. I see a toned seventeen year old version of myself staring back. The baggy overalls and the updo really bring down my age. My loud purple eyeshadow also shaves off another year or two. I love the dangling brown curls framing my face. My dark eyes look a little moody and mysterious with the darker eyeshadow. I look like an Emo teenager trying to dress like a little girl… I giggle at my image. It’s ironic that in reality, I’m a twenty-four year old mother who looks like a teenage lady trying to dress like a twelve year old girl. Even given the visual Mobius strip I’m creating, I feel as sexy as hell. It is very odd to look in the mirror at the image I cut, and yet feel as sexy as a nearly naked cat girl on Halloween! I trust-fall onto my bed and roll around a little bit. The noise from the Depends is considerably lessoned with my onesie. With the TV on, or any background noise at all, the crinkle will totally fade away. I should probably feel guilty, but everyone will just assume its Molly, even if they hear something. Well, except at work…hahaha! I stood pausing just a moment at the outrageous thought. I have a hard time imagining wearing a diaper of any kind at work, and yet, an equally hard time going that long without one. I can’t tell if I feel out of control, or that I’ve already accepted this as something I want. It’s a pleasant coincidence that Allen seems to be getting off on it. At least we can be strange together! “What do you guys want for lunch?” I ask the living room where Molly is playing ABC Mouse while Allen reads away on his Galaxy tablet. At least THAT has some educational value. I think watching her tap away at her alphabet. Occasionally, I feel guilty about her tech time. All the “Pros” at raising kids tell you exactly what’s appropriate for everyone’s kids and circumstances. I try to make sure she plays her educational games as much as watching Kids YouTube or one of her games. We color, play, read, and talk in a good balance for us! Molly wakes me up from my soapbox daydream. “Pitha!” Molly screams looking quickly back at her tablet. “We had pizza last night. Nope.” “I’m not super hungry Robin.” Allen admits.“Yeah me either, but it’s like one. I’m not cooking till six-ish.”“How about a sandwich?” He asks.“Yeah. That’ll work. Molls, you want PB&J?”“Pleassse.” Molly begs.“You got it kiddo. Allen, I’m gonna do a small turkey and mayo. Can I get you something?”“Really? Thought I’d be fixing my own…” He chuckles.“You’re not in that much trouble. Besides, I’m feeling pretty awesome right now.”“Good. You’re looking pretty awesome too. Just don’t tell your older sister you’re hanging out with us. My wife gets jealous.”“God, Allen.” I bark in laughter. “Your dad-jokes are getting stronger.” I mumble. I turn to start setting out the sandwich stuff and Allen suddenly grabs me in a hug from behind. His hands invade my overalls trailing down over my not-quite-toned stomach. I feel the bump as his hand hits the onesie covered front of my diaper. It makes him shudder. “I bet you look super cute without the overalls on.” He purrs.“You know I do, but the cut of this onesie doesn’t fit the diaper to well. It’s hanging out on the sides. I look like a toddler wearing her mom’s panties, but I freaking love the feeling, all mushed up. Thanks for changing me earlier. Sorry I got snippy.”“Sorry I was an ass.” We laugh at each other’s apology.“I don’t know where this is going Rob, but I fucking love where it is right now. Make sure you let me know what’s not OK as you figure it out. I don’t like pissing you off, or when you’re mad at me.” “I will. I tried sucking my thumb.” I dangle.“And, did Princess Mommy like that?” “No and I don’t think I like that tone in your voice either. I’m not our daughter or some kid here.” I say politely.“Shit sorry.” Allen moves to stand up and withdraw his hand.“No stay. I’m not mad. You told me to tell you. I was just telling you.” I grind my pelvis against his hand.“Will you wet this one?”“Of course. That’s how I got here. I’m dying to know if it’ll hold.” I giggle and moan at the same time.“Let me know when it happens in case I have to go distract Molly. No sense in her seeing that.”“Yeah. That’s the idea behind these onesies too. They are diaper mufflers!” I admit. He stands up kisses the top of my head telling me I look cute before leaving the room. Allen smacks my padded rear end as he goes. I smile enjoying the attention. It’s so normal and yet abnormal with the diapers. Everything, and I mean everything, feels like a new sexy secret. Every move I make, every step I take, he’s watching me. Hahahaah, I crack myself up! “Hey let’s eat in here guys!” I yell to the living room. We pile up at the table not saying much. I log Molly out of her educational tool and put on Pandora putting it on the bar. Molly and I eat and color some more while Allen reads and eats his sandwich. We have a super terrific peaceful family time singing and eating. “Mommy, I wanna bow bubbles.”“Sounds good to me. How bout you Daddy?”“Good idea girls. Molly, I want to BLOW bubbles.” ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 11. We head outside as a family. It’s bubble time! Molly has like a million little bubble blowing toys. She has a hard time settling on one toy at a time. I’m almost certain she’s got A.D.D. watching her hover over all the options. She attacks the large Tupperware with her bubble stuff taking out a bubble hoop. It’s a bit chilly outside today, barely seventy-five degrees, and I’m just a little too cool in the shade of our covered porch. I move sitting on the edge of the porch by Molly. The sun feels amazing. Allen joins us after a bit with some drinks taking his seat at the picnic table in the shade of the porch. Guess what he does… got it in one! He pulls out his tablet and starts reading.“Your wizards and werewolves keeping you company over there?” “I’m reading a Star Wars book…” He says raising an eyebrow. “Fine. Bubbles and girls are way more fun… Are your wookies and porgs keeping you company?” “Good company thanks.” He sasses me back. “and there’s no porgs in this book! God I hope those aren’t another Ewok Species.”“I loved the Ewoks! They are cuddly and deadly!” “Blasphemy! How could a feral teddy bear kill a futuristic soldier in body armor!” He scoffs.“I can’t wait to get a stuffed porg for the bed and a six inch one to put with my Jar Jar! Oh! Molly will need one too.” I giggle losing my serious tone.“What’s funny Mommy?” “Daddy baby. Daddy is funny!” We both laugh at Allen, each for our own reasons. “We need to start screening those with her ya know. I was thinking of taking her in December.” Allen adds hopefully.“Yeah, The Last Force is coming out then right?” I tease.“The Last Jedi.”“Whatever…” God, it’s easy to rile him up.***Insert 5 min very motivated tirade on how awesome Star Wars is here***(Not sure what he said. I was smiling too hard to hear him!)“Ok babe, Ok! It’ll be fun to watch Molly see the porgs. God I hope Chewy doesn’t eat one!”“GRAH!” He pretends to rage.I do everything I can to rile him up about his fiction. I can’t help it! He just takes it so seriously. I have picked up a thing or two over the years, but mostly just what his hot button topics are. I own a Jar Jar Binks six inch toy just to annoy Allen.“Eep!” I squeal seeing him rock forward to get up. I sprint out into the yard running from my fanatic of a husband. The guy’s as big as a wookie! You’d run too if he thundered across the deck after you! Molly gets up chasing after Allen who’s chasing after me. Molls laughs so hard she can barely run. I can feel my diaper warming up around my hips. I’m thankful for the powder I used earlier. Allen is a typical ex-football guy. He has large grass eating strides, but not classically quick or maneuverable. I am. I’m quick and maneuverable as hell!We race around the front yard laughing, giggling, and with Allen thundering behind me pretending to be mad. Our neighbors undoubtedly think we are nuts, funny, but nuts for sure! That fun comes to a jarring halt when I step in a mole-run or something. The grass beneath my foot collapses under me. I twist my ankle in terrible unintended and hit the ground hard. Well, I hit hard, but not as hard as it would have, cause you know… diaper! I hear a tremendous pop and then pain radiates through me. It hurts, but the whole thing is so fucking funny that I can’t quit laughing even though tears streaming down my cheeks. I roll over and lay on the grass putting my injured leg on the knee of the good leg letting it dangle.“God Rob, are you ok baby?”“Nope, hurts.” I sniffle.“Mommy gonna go to da hospital?” “I hope not Princess. Let me have a look baby.” “Just… don’t move it, or touch it, or look at it. Damn!”Just under fifty minutes later, we pull in at the hospital’s emergency room. There’s an ace bandaged wrapped around my barefoot and the bottom of my overall pant leg. Allen parks the car under the awning and picks me up sitting me and Molly down in the waiting room. “Al, prop it up for me honey.” “K, then I’ll move the car.” “I’m so sorry, I love you.” I tell him.“Oh Robin, I love you so much. This isn’t your fault, don’t apologize. Fucking feel like Bill Murry in Caddyshack.” “But our weekend. God my foot is throbbing. I hate moles.” I give up trying to be the adult here. I sit Molly in my lap as she hugs me tightly. I sniffle into her hair amazed at the pain in my leg. Allen shuffles uncertain of what he should do. He needs to move the car… and register me… and comfort me. He’s uncomfortable with the whole situation and having a hard time deciding what to do first. “Baby… I… Shit, I’ll be right back.” He says finally committing to parking the car first.“Ummm… Daaddyy!” Molly tuts.All I could really do is look at him and let the tears trickle down my face. Shooting wicked arcs of pain radiate from my ankle down into my big toe. I can still wiggle my foot so Allen didn’t think my leg was broken, but there is something structurally wrong with my toe. It doesn’t look like it’s laying the way it should anymore. He knows I’m a pretty tough chick. I can handle pain, and my failure to handle this pain is freaking him out.Allen sprints out of the room, the doors slowing him down while he waits on them to open. I lean my head back wiping my eyes while rubbing Molly’s back. I don’t mean to scare her, but it’s impossible to push all this pain aside. “Mommy is ok?” She asks. “No not yet, but that’s why we are here baby. They’ll fix me up.” “You gonna gets crutches?” “Probably, but not right away. They will tell me to stay off my ouchies for a while.” “Girls, I’m back. Molly I have to go tell them Mommy’s here.” Allen rushes over to the ER Nurse’s intake window. He’s up there for a while filling out paperwork and describing my injuries. My phone chirps a Jawa sound after a bit of writing on his part.[Allen] Hey, I need your social and date of birth.[Me] 555-55-5555, *raised eye emoji*[Allen] nvmd on your date of birth… I figured it out.[Me] good![Allen] Almost done baby. We’ll get in pretty fast she says. [Me] *crybaby face emoji*“Allen, unwrap this. It’s too tight. Fold up my pants so I don’t have to take them off.” I make eye contact with him. Allen suddenly remembers my unconventional underwear. “Alright, if it hurts tell me.” “Should I just start screaming and not stop until you’re done?” I ask arching my eyebrow. The nurse comes out calling my name and Allen just picks me up. He holds me like a baby with my arms around his neck and face in his chest. My big toe is already turning some very unflattering colors clashing with my polish, which unreasonably pisses me off on top of the pain. He doesn’t have an arm to hold Molly’s hand with so, he shifts me around in a baby monkey hold my good leg wrapped around his waist. I keep my arms draped around his neck and straddle his stomach with one of his hands under my diapered ass. It is a super embarrassing way to be hauled around! We follow the nurse into a room and he sits me down on a paper covered exam table. We wait about fifteen more minutes with nurses and others coming in and out of the room. The doctor comes in like a paperwork tornado. He pokes and prods at my ankle, leg, foot, and toe. I hold up, but I can’t pull back the tears, that shit freaking hurts.“I’m fairly certain you have a severely fractured big toe. I think it’s dislocated too. I’m sending you for x-rays of your toe and ankle. The bruising is already starting up. That’s pretty quick. It’ll be a nasty sprain if nothing else. I’ll have a nurse clean up your foot before you go in. Your ankle is at least a high sprain and may have some hairline fractures as well, but nothing is massively out of place there. If your toe is dislocated, I’ll have to reduce it before we get you out of here. You’re looking at maybe casts for sure walking boot. The x-rays will tell.” He pats my knee calling for his nurse. The ibu I’d swallowed at home finally starts kicking in. I feel a layer or two the pain peeling back as the nurse cleans my feet. It is super weird and I don’t my like feet anyway, so I’m very uncomfortable. I focus on talking to Allen and Molly instead.“Stop squirming Rob. She’ll be done in a bit.” Allen comforts me. He turns to the nurse, “She doesn’t like feet.”A bit later they wheel me into x-ray leaving Allen and Molly in the waiting room. They painfully articulate my ankle snapping two of the toe and four of the ankle. I thoroughly wet my diaper while trying to hold my ankle in a bad angle that ramps up my pain. Back in the emergency treatment room, “Allen” I whisper. “I’m soaked. I’m super worried I’m going to leak. What the hell do we do?” ----- The Diapered Story of Robin Smith and Her Unconventional Solutions. 12. I’m genuinely terrified, but Allen doesn’t appear to have any answers for me. Worse yet, it doesn’t look like I’m getting out of here any time soon. So, we sit and wait on the doctor while I worry anxiously over my wet butt. Molls starts getting impatient fidgeting and starting to whine. Of course, that does nothing positive for my mood! Now I have a soggy ass and a kid that is about to lose her cool. Allen picks her up smiling at me. He sits her beside me in the hospital bed while breaking out his phone.I guess she was quiet longer than I thought she would be. I love you so much Doodlebug! I can’t wait for you to grow out of this awful whining stage though. Lord, it’s annoying. Shit. I’m whining too. I think as I realize I’m pouting. The edges of my mouth twerk up and I smile to myself.We’re still waiting when I feel the need to pee rise. Everything I’d drank at lunch and outside before my “foot thing” calls knocking at my bladders door. I “psst” at Allen catching his attention and motioning toward my diapered crotch with my eyes. I release a little pressure and sigh letting him know that I was wetting right then. I see the comprehension in Allen’s face. He moves Molly to the chair and checks the hospital door. Finding it fully closed, he comes to stand by my head. He leans in and picks me up gingerly. “Why don’t you just finish really fast? Then I’ll take it off of you and clean you up. You can go commando till we get out’a here.” “That’ll work. Hey, just sit me on the toilet… I can finish there.” I whisper out loud improving his plan cause there wasn’t any sense in wetting my overalls.Why the hell didn’t I think of that…? Because you don’t want to be without one! That’s why you twat… I bash myself. Answering your own mental questions is the first sign of insanity? I narrate internally. Then I mentally laugh at myself causing a physical laughing to trickle out into Allen’s shoulder.Allen sits me on the humongous hospital potty. I undo my overall bibs and hold myself up off the toilet while he tugs them down to my ankles. I look up at Allen with a mischievous look on my face and wet the diaper before he can pull it off me. As I’d feared, I over flow my protection hearing my water meet the toilet’s. Good call Princess Mommy! I think to myself.“You done yet?” Allen asks chuckling. “Yeah, hey look there! There’s wipes in here.” I point.“Got ya.” I don’t go commando very often, particularly in jean material! There are some delicate bits that should never suffer the indignity of blue jean friction. I can almost feel the furrows forming in my ass cheeks leaving funny prints in my skin. Redressed and cleaned up, Allen deposits me on the bed. I adjust my overalls moving and tugging the crotch trying to make sure no jean seams line up with my own!The doctor knocks once rapidly and sliding in the room. He puts the X-Ray’s on the wall unit lighting it up. He smiles at us grabbing his rolling doctor’s stool and scooting over to my bed side. Allen drops Molly in his lap and silences the phone preparing to listen to the doctor.“Well, I have good news and bad news!” The doctor breaks the strained silence. I sigh at his response, “Well, let’s start with the bad news!”“K, Good news. Your leg isn’t broken, but your toe sure is!” He says. “I wanted the bad news first!” I huff.“Well, the bad news is your leg isn’t broken!” He dead pans.“I don’t understand.” Allen says. “Well, my diagnosis is a high ankle sprain with a tearing of the ligaments between the tibia and fibula. Frankly, it’s more painful and is a longer recovery than a brake. In fact, most patients with this injury require physical therapy to get back in motion.” He concludes.“Well, that’s not good. Short term?” Allen asks.We talk for about thirty minutes while the doctor reduces my toe. The pain causes me to lurch forward in the bed. I feel the crotch of my overalls dampen. I immediately flush red color swamping my features. The guys simply believe it’s my reaction to the pain, but it’s not. It’s a insane feeling of embarrassment. Son of a BITCH! I yell internally.In the end, I wind up without a cast! They have this wrap-splint thing for my foot that stabilizes my toe and a high ankle walking boot for the sprain. I’m stuck 24/7 in the boot for four weeks and in the toe cast-wrap-splint-thing for the same. The doctor suspects that I’ll be in the boot for another six to eight weeks tapering off after the initial four weeks.The hospital insists that I ride a wheel chair to the emergency room outdoor pickup. I don’t fight them, but I can feel myself piddle when the orderly helps me up and then I sit into the chair. Allen picks up Molly trailing us out of the ER treatment area. I sit with the orderly while Allen grabs the car. We make a bit of small talk, or I try to. It seems like I have too or somehow he’d know that I’d wet myself. This is why I always wear a pad! Fuck! I yell inside fully of anger and shame. God, I just want to be home and cleaned up!Allen pulls up and hops out. Molly waves frantically at me. I wave back at her shyly. The orderly helps me to stand as he comes around our car. I turn around facing the orderly who smiles gently at me.“Sir?” “Yeah?” “Do you have a towel or something? If you don’t, I can get a trash bag or something for your wife.” The orderly murmurs.“I… Uh…” I stutter mortified.“We keep a towel in here for our daughter. I’ll get it.” Allen says walking to the back of the car and popping the trunk. “Oh. My. God. I’m… I can’t…” I flounder for words.“Oh Ma’am. Don’t worry about it. Stuff happens all the time. We have to sanitize these between each patient anyway. There’s no extra work and you don’t have to be embarrassed.” He tells me.“I can’t help it. This is so embarrassing.” “Can I give you a hug?” The fatherly large blonde orderly asks me.“I guess.” He leans in, “Listen, no one comes here because everything is fine.” He releases me.“We’re like IT. No one calls those guys when their computers are working fine just to say ‘Hey, my PC is working great and screaming fast!’ Nope, folks come here messed up. We try to send them home better than they arrived. That’s all we are hoping for. I’ve seen much worse. Please try not to feel to bad.”“Thanks man. She needed that, but she’s still gonna moan for days about this.” “She’s right. the. Fuck. HERE!” Anger is easier than embarrassment. So I go with anger.“Awe, here let me help you up Rob. We’ll get you home and cleaned up!” Allen says lifting me into the car. “Ya’ll take care now!” The orderly says turning his back and waving at us. It is late afternoon by the time we pull up into our driveway. Allen gets Molly to grab my purse and he carries me into the house directly to our bed. I sigh and take another round of Ibu. I’d taken the good stuff the ER doc prescribed immediately after we picked it up at Walgreens on the way home, but it hasn’t kicked in yet. I sag into our soft bed happy to be home, but injured and whiney about it lying on another towel. “On the bright side, you love skirts!” Allen teases. “I do, but I love my jeans more!” I pout. “Are you in a lot of pain right now?” “I think that stuff the doctor gave me is kicking in. I feel sleepy and tingly. Like my fingers are waking up from falling asleep.” I tell him snapping my fingers.“Sounds like it.” Allen chuckles. He diapers me with the same tender care he did the first time. I relax even further lying on the fluffy bead in my fluffy diaper elated to be dry. I put my arms out to the side making a comforter snow angle and giggle at the ceiling. God, I’m high as fuck… hehehehe I realize and find hilarious. “Yeah, I think you are hon.” Allen agrees. “Was that out loud?” I ask with wide eyes.“Yeah.” He laughs at me. “I hate this.” I whimper.“I know. You just can’t stand not being in control can you?” He laughs.“Well, I mean… yeah. Mine! All of it… hahaha.” I laugh.“You staying in here or coming out there?” He asks.“I don’t wanna be all loopy in front of Doodlebug.” “I get it. You just gonna lay there in your bra and diaper? Want some more clothes?”“Uh… yeah rotate the laundry. Remember coldy-cold water for da colors man.” I try for a suffer guy voice. “Oh man, I’m sad I’m gonna miss this. You’ll adjust though. You’ll be fine tomorrow I bet.” He assures me.“Leave me here until the whites dry up. I wanna wear a onesie, but I’ll stay here under the covers until then. Maybe take a nap.” I try to roll on my side. “Let’s get you covered up Princess Mommy.” Allen reassures me patting my butt.“Don’t forget to change me. I’m totally not getting up for peeing in this thing. Hey bring me my phone and put the charger in here… pppppwease.” I let him tuck me in like a kid and quickly drift off to sleep.