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Chapter 1: This is a joke, right? Lisa was wandering around her house frantically, getting ready to leave for work. She couldn't find half of what she needed and was about to miss her bus. Finally finding the all-important house keys, she ran out the door, locking it behind her. She sighed in relief and ran down her driveway to find a small package by her mailbox. "That's odd," Lisa thought, "I haven't ordered anything recently." She deposited the package in her purse and hurried to the bus stop just in time to catch the 12, the only bus that stopped near her work. Once taking her seat on the near-empty bus, she pulled out the box and examined it. Only her address was written on it, so she had no way of knowing where it came from or if it was meant for her. She ripped off the tape to be welcomed by bubble wrap. "This is adorable!" Lisa thought as she unwrapped the rest of the package, she saw a cute bracelet with green marble-like rocks. After putting on the bracelet, Lisa spotted a note in the box. Unfolding it, she began to read it. "To whoever receives this bracelet, I am sorry, I just couldn't take it anymore. This thing has ruined my life. I don't know where it came from but received it one day. After a few days of wearing it, I discovered this thing can grant wishes when you say "I wish.." THIS IS NOT A GOOD THING! I swear it's like a monkey's paw. You won't notice it at first, but if you aren't careful, it'll ruin you over time. You can't take back a wish once it's been made. If you are smart, you won't use it! Good luck and good riddance. Please be smart." Lisa laughed; this had to be a joke, right? The bus screeched to a stop, reminding her why she had been on the bus in the first place. Luckily for her, her workplace was only 2 stops away, so it took no time on the bus, but walking would take forever. She climbed off, thanked the bus driver, and went to the small office building in front of her. It was 5 stories high, which was small compared to the skyscrapers in the nearby area. Unfortunately for Lisa, she works on the fifth floor where an advertising company is located. So when the elevator is down, which happens often, an annoying journey up the stairs is required. Not fun in heels. "Please let them be working, please let them be working, please!" She spoke to herself as she turned the corner to where the elevators were. "Closed due to Maintenance" hung on the doors. "Danmit! I wish the elevator would just work." Suddenly, the door behind her opened as the elevator repair man walked out. "Then you got good timing. I just finished up," He told her. "Wait, are you serious? You have it working again?" Lisa's voice carried a mix of disbelief and relief. The repairman nodded, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yep, just finished up. Good timing on your part." A surge of gratitude washed over Lisa. "Wow, talk about luck. Thank you so much!" "Not a problem," he said, stepping aside to let her enter the elevator. "What floor are you headed to?" "The 5th," Lisa replied, stepping in and pressing the button. "Ah, perfect. You're all set then," he remarked, moving to remove the maintenance sign. Lisa couldn't help but grin. "You've just saved me from a trek up a gazillion stairs in these heels. You're a lifesaver." The repairman chuckled, his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Glad I could be of service. Have a good one!" "You too! Thanks again," Lisa called as the doors slid shut, leaving her alone in the now-functioning elevator. Once on the 5th floor, Lisa rushed over to her desk; she was late enough as it was and didn't want to run into her manager or stop to chit-chat with a coworker and get busted. Setting her things down and taking her seat, Lisa sighed in relief. "Few, finally made it, and now what do I have going on today? Looks like I have a meeting in an hour in conference room 501." *Gurgle* "Shoot, I didn't have enough time to get breakfast. I wish I had something to eat this morning; otherwise, this will be a long day." *knock* *knocK* "Hey, Lisa. Do you have a minute?" Looking up from her Computer, Lisa saw her coworker Sarah. "Hey, Sarah! what's up?" "I noticed you were running a little behind today, and you look like you could use a pick me up. I have an extra breakfast burrito I made this morning. Would you like it? If you heat it up for like 30 seconds in the microwave, it comes out amazing!" "Oh my god, you are a lifesaver, Sarah! Thank you so much. I had a hectic night last night; I'll tell you more about it at lunch." "Rain check, I'm heading out early today; I've got a doctor's appointment I need to go to, maybe Monday after the weekend unless you want to meet sooner?" "I'll get back to you. I got to unbury myself; there's a ton of things I need to catch up on." Sarah's breakfast burrito was amazing and definitely hit the spot. Now being able to focus, Lisa spent her time before her meeting catching up on emails and direct messages and preparing for the meeting. The prep work paid off while in the meeting as she provided solid updates on the status of their latest project, but before returning to work, she had to stop by the bathroom for a pee break. Only to see that three other ladies were waiting for a stall to open up. "Can you believe how long these lines get during peak hours?" Lisa chuckled nervously, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Yeah, tell me about it," replied Sarah, her voice sympathetic. "I swear, I practically live in this line some days." A middle-aged woman in line with them nodded in agreement. "You'd think they'd install more stalls or something with how crowded it gets." Lisa chuckled, feeling discomfort as another wave of urgency hit her. "Yeah, that would be nice. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so often." Sarah chuckled. "Yeah, it's just one of those things we women have to deal with, right?" Lisa nodded, trying to ignore the increasing pressure in her bladder. "Yeah, I suppose so." As they continued to wait, Lisa's discomfort grew. She shifted from one foot to the other, trying to distract herself from the urge to pee. But the pressure was becoming unbearable. "Come on, come on," Lisa muttered, hoping desperately for a stall to open up soon. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, one of the stalls became available. Lisa practically dashed inside, grateful for the relief it offered. The discomfort from her full bladder now a distant memory. She resumes her work with renewed focus, navigating the rest of the day's tasks without significant hiccups. As evening approached, Lisa gathered her belongings, ready to return home on the bus during the peak transit hours. She joined the bustling crowd at the bus stop, her mind preoccupied with thoughts of dinner and relaxation after a long day at work. The bus arrived, and she could already see from the outside that it was pretty full. Upon getting inside, she saw her suspicion was correct: no seats left, and she'd have to stand. As Lisa stood in the crowded bus, she felt a sudden, urgent need to pee. Panic surged as she glanced down at her new pair of pants, desperately not wanting to ruin them. The pressure in her bladder was unbearable, and she knew she wouldn't be able to hold it much longer. Without thinking, she frantically whispered, "I wish I had some way to protect my pants." Instantly, she felt a strange sensation over her, followed by a wave of relief as she felt herself peeing. But to her shock, her pants remained completely dry. At the same time, her crotch started to feel warm. Lisa's eyes widened in disbelief as she was peeing herself. She glanced around nervously, hoping no one had noticed her moment of weakness. But as she looked at her fellow passengers, she saw that they were all engrossed in their conversations or staring blankly out the window, oblivious to her predicament. Feeling both relieved and bewildered, Lisa cautiously reached down to touch her pants, half-expecting to find them soaked despite the lack of any wet sensation. But to her amazement, they were completely dry, as if nothing had happened. However, she noticed that her underwear seemed like they swelled up, absorbing the pee, as she could still feel the warmth, and even a bit of weight was now weighing them down. "What the heck is protecting my pants?" Chapter 2: Is that a Pullup? As the bus rumbled along its route, Lisa's mind raced with confusion and disbelief. She glanced around, hoping no one would notice that she just peed herself. "What just happened?" she whispered, her heart pounding with embarrassment and bewilderment. She tried to calm her nerves with a deep breath, chalking it up to a bizarre fluke. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, or she was just overly stressed from the long day at work. But even as she tried to rationalize the inexplicable event, a nagging sense of unease lingered in the back of her mind. There was something undeniably strange about the way her pants remained dry despite it feeling like her bladder released its contents. Lost in her thoughts, Lisa almost missed her stop. With a jolt of realization, she made her way to the front of the bus, eager to escape the uncomfortable confines of the crowded vehicle. Stepping off the bus onto the sidewalk, Lisa took a moment to gather her thoughts. She knew she couldn't dwell on the strange occurrence forever; she had to focus on getting home and putting the bizarre incident behind her. As she walked the short distance to her apartment building, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of the swollen underwear between her legs, making her worry that her peeing wasn't just in her head. Entering her apartment, Lisa tossed her purse onto her beanbag chair in her bedroom. The box and note were still in it, slightly spilling out of her bag as it landed. Feeling utterly drained both physically and emotionally, Lisa moved to her couch out in the living room and collapsed onto it. She needed time to process everything that had happened but knew she couldn't afford to dwell on it indefinitely. With a sigh, she pushed herself to her feet and went to the kitchen, her stomach grumbling in protest. Dinner seemed like a distant afterthought, but she knew she needed to eat something to replenish her energy after the long day. As she rummaged through the fridge, her eyes fell on a box of leftover pizza from the night before. With a shrug, she grabbed the container and popped a few slices into the microwave. As she waited for her meal to heat up, her thoughts drifted back to the strange bracelet on her wrist. It was adorable, but where did it come from? Was it okay to keep it? What was up with that weird note? *Beep* *Beep* *Beep* The microwave sounded, breaking her train of thought and bringing her back to her dinner. As Lisa sat down to eat her dinner, she couldn't shake the unease that had settled over her since the bizarre incident on the bus. The pizza tasted bland, the flavors muted by her racing thoughts. She kept glancing down at the bracelet on her wrist, its intricate design catching the light from the overhead lamp. With a heavy sigh, Lisa took her last bite, her appetite gone from the bland flavor. She felt she should address the weird feeling from on the bus but wasn't sure where to start; it was all too weird. The logical part of her brain screamed that it was all just in her head, a series of strange events with rational explanations. But deep down, she couldn't shake the feeling that something more was at play. After staring blankly at the wall for a few minutes, Lisa pushed herself up from the table and went to the bathroom to shower. The shower's hot water sounded inviting, a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her mind. As she undressed, she couldn't help but glance down at her underwear. To her horror and confusion, she saw that her panties had been replaced by what looked like a girls' pull-up diaper. The realization hit her like a ton of bricks, sending a shiver down her spine. "What the...?" Lisa muttered, her hands trembling as she touched the strange garment. It was soft to the touch. Panic threatened to overwhelm her as she struggled to comprehend what was happening. Confused, she stared at her reflection in the bathroom mirror, the image of a grown woman wearing a diaper staring back at her. As Lisa stood in front of the mirror, staring at her reflection in disbelief, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a bizarre hallucination brought on by stress and exhaustion. "This can't be real," she muttered, her voice trembling with uncertainty. Shaking her head, she quickly stripped off the pull-up diaper, tossing it into the trash bin with disgust and disbelief. "I must be losing my mind," she whispered, her hands still trembling as she turned on the shower, desperate to wash away the day's strange events. The hot water cascaded over her body, providing some much-needed comfort and clarity amidst the chaos of her thoughts. As she scrubbed away the tension and confusion, she tried to push aside the nagging feeling that the diaper was real. Once she had finished her shower, Lisa wrapped herself in a towel and stepped out of the bathroom, determined to put the bizarre events behind her and get some much-needed rest. With each step, she tried to convince herself that it was all just a figment of her imagination, resulting from an overactive mind and a stressful day at work. She moved to her bedroom, where she retrieved a fresh pair of panties from her dresser drawer, determined to put the day's strange events behind her. Slipping into the comfortable cotton panties, Lisa couldn't shake the memory of the pull-up diaper she had found herself wearing earlier. It was all too surreal, too bizarre to be real. Yet, the soft fabric of the panties against her skin offered some semblance of normalcy, grounding her in the present moment. Oddly, they didn't feel like the pull-up she thought she saw herself wearing. Could it have really been a pull-up diaper? With a sigh, Lisa grabbed a cozy pair of pajamas from her closet, eager to relax and unwind after the tumultuous day she had endured. As she slipped into the soft fabric, she felt a slight sense of relief wash over her, the warmth of the pajamas soothing her frayed nerves. Tired from the day's events, Lisa opted to go to sleep and crawled into bed. She usually would stay up to watch some TV or read a good book, but with the stresses from work, the date she had last night, and the weirdness she experienced today, she figured getting sleep was the better option for tonight. Chapter 3: That was a Weird Dream On Saturday morning, Lisa awoke to the sunlight seeping through the curtains. She groaned softly as she stretched her limbs, feeling the warmth of the morning sun. She enjoyed the blissful ignorance of sleep for a moment, her mind still shielded from the previous day's events. But as she shifted in bed, her thoughts inevitably drifted back to the strange occurrences that had unfolded—a bizarre package, a mysterious bracelet, and the unsettling discovery of the pull-up she was wearing. "Must've been a weird dream," she mumbled to herself, her voice thick with sleep as she attempted to dismiss the surreal memories that lingered in the recesses of her mind. "There's no way any of that was real." Despite her attempts to convince herself of the absurdity of it all, a lingering sense of unease persisted within her consciousness. There was something undeniably tangible about the memories, a lingering presence that refused to be dismissed as mere figments of her imagination. Pushing aside her lingering doubts, Lisa swung her legs over the edge of the bed, preparing to face the day ahead. As she stretched, a sudden, intense pressure in her bladder jolted her from her thoughts, causing her to freeze mid-motion. "Uh-oh," she muttered under her breath, her heart sinking as the urgency of her need to pee washed over her. It was an overwhelming sensation, demanding her immediate attention and threatening to ruin her day before it started. Lisa scrambled out of bed, her movements quick and frantic as she stumbled towards the bathroom. The painful discomfort with each step reminded her of the urgency to relieve herself. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her sense of urgency intensified, each step feeling heavier as if trudging through mud. The pressure in her bladder seemed to swell with each passing second, a relentless reminder of her body's urgent demand. Finally reaching the bathroom, Lisa's hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob, her heart pounding. With a shaky breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside, her eyes darting to the familiar sight of the toilet. But before she could register her next move, a sudden wave of warmth flooded her. Panic seized her as she realized what was happening, her hands fumbling with the waistband of her pajama pants in a frantic attempt to undo them. But a strange sensation overcame her before she could even step closer to the toilet. A soft rustling sound filled the air, accompanied by a strange sensation against her skin. Lisa's eyes widened in shock as she looked down, expecting to see her pants darkening with the telltale signs of her accident. But to her bewilderment, her pants remained dry, untouched by the inevitable release of her bladder. Instead, a faint crinkling sound reached her ears, followed by the sensation of something expanding against her skin. With a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach, Lisa realized what was happening. Her heart raced as she looked down, her eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before her. A pull-up diaper, once again, was in the place of her panties, soaked with the evidence of her accident. Lisa's breath caught in her throat as she stared at the surreal scene before her, unable to comprehend how such a thing could happen. This still had to be a dream, right? There's no way this would be possible. But it felt real. There she was, seeing herself in the mirror again, in a soaked pull-up diaper for little girls. Looking around, she could tell she was still in her apartment; things weren't different, and then it caught her eye. Her purse was sitting on the beanbag chair in her room, with a small box and a note sticking out. The reality of the situation sank in, and a sense of dread washed over her. This was no dream, no figment of her imagination. It was all too real; Lisa quickly slid back up her pants and ran over to the note to reread it and see if she missed any information. Lisa frantically sifted through the box's contents, her hands trembling with anxiety and disbelief. She felt frustration wash over her. The absence of clues regarding the mysterious bracelet's origin only increased her bewilderment. She scanned the note again, her eyes darting over the hastily scrawled words in search of any hidden meaning or clue that might shed light on her predicament. But the message remained cryptic, offering no further insight into the true nature of the bracelet or its origins. A sense of helplessness washed over Lisa as she realized nothing could explain what was happening. She then attempted to remove the bracelet from her wrist, but her efforts proved futile, the band clinging stubbornly to her skin as if fused in place by some unseen force. Panic surged through her veins as she tugged at the bracelet with increasing desperation, her mind racing with a million unanswered questions. Suddenly, her phone started to ring, breaking her thoughts and frustration at the bracelet. She fumbled for her phone, her heart pounding with fear and apprehension. The caller ID revealed Sarah's name. With a shaky breath, she answered the call, her voice a little cracked from her worries and just recently waking up. "Hello?" she ventured tentatively, followed by her clearing her throat as she realized how raspy she first sounded. "Hey, Lisa, are you okay?" Sarah's voice sounded concerned, her words tinged with worry as she sensed the tension in Lisa's voice. Lisa hesitated momentarily, grappling with the overwhelming urge to confide in Sarah, to unburden herself of the weight of her newfound reality. But the fear of sounding insane, of being dismissed as delusional, held her back. "I... I'm fine," she replied hesitantly, her words tinged with uncertainty as she struggled to mask the turmoil within her. "Just... woke up a minute ago. What's up?" "I just wanted to check in on you," she said softly, her words laced with sincerity. "You seemed a little off yesterday, and I wanted to ensure everything's okay. Maybe meet up for coffee and talk about Thursday night?" "Oh, that's right! I didn't get to tell you yet, did I?" she replied, her voice becoming energized with the distraction and the prospect of sharing the spicy details of her date on Thursday. "That sounds great," Lisa said, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the lingering unease gnawing at her. "Coffee sounds like just what I need right now." Sarah's relieved sigh was audible through the phone. "I'm glad to hear that. How about we meet up at Brew Haven around noon? That should give us plenty of time to catch up." "Sounds perfect," Lisa replied, her voice steadier now as she focused on the prospect of spending time with her friend. "I'll see you there." Lisa's mind raced with a million conflicting thoughts and emotions as they confirmed the details. On one hand, she was grateful for the distraction and the chance to talk with Sarah about her recent date. But on the other hand, she couldn't imagine having another accident while hanging out with her friend. Chapter 4: New Panties Please As Lisa stood in the bathroom stall, her mind reeling from the surreal experience, she couldn't shake the feeling that something extraordinary was happening. The evidence was right in front of her—the pull-up diaper now snugly wrapped around her hips, soaked with her latest accident. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to touch the smooth fabric of the pull-up, her fingers tracing the contours of the unfamiliar material. It was a surreal sensation, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing moment. "I... I can't believe this is happening," she murmured to herself, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to face the bizarre turn of events. "This... this can't be real." But as she looked down at the pull-up, its soft padding offering a strange comfort in her confusion, Lisa knew she could no longer deny the truth. Something extraordinary was at play. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa forced herself to focus on the task at hand. She couldn't afford to dwell on the surreal nature of her situation, not when there were other people waiting outside for the stall. Gathering her courage, Lisa quickly checked her pants for any signs of the pull-up underneath. To her relief, there was no telltale bulge or outline that would give away her secret. It was as if the pull-up had seamlessly blended into her clothing, leaving no trace of its presence. With a silent prayer of gratitude, Lisa straightened her posture and composed herself before finally flushing the toilet to avoid suspicion and unlocking the stall door. Stepping out into the bathroom, she offered a quick apology to the other ladies waiting outside, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment at her earlier rudeness. "Sorry about that," she muttered, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she met their gaze with a sheepish smile. "I didn't mean to cut in front of you like that." The other women offered polite nods in response, their expressions a mixture of annoyance and understanding. "No worries, honey," one of them said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "We've all been there before." With a sense of relief, Lisa hurriedly washed her hands, eager to put some distance between herself and the awkward encounter. As she exited the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with questions, her thoughts consumed by the inexplicable magic that seemed to be at play. How was it possible that her panties had transformed into a pull-up, seemingly of their own accord? And what did it mean for her future if such bizarre occurrences continued to unfold? As she walked, Lisa couldn't shake the uncomfortable sensation of the wet pull-up against her skin, a constant reminder of her life's surreal turn. Feeling increasingly frustrated and disgusted by the situation, Lisa couldn't help but resent the childish garment clinging to her hips. It was a humiliating symbol of the inexplicable magic that seemed to have taken hold of her life. With a deepening scowl, Lisa finally reached her desk and sank into her chair, the wet pull-up squelching beneath her with an unpleasant squish. Grimacing, she shifted uncomfortably, trying in vain to find a position that would alleviate the discomfort. But as she fidgeted in her seat, her mind raced with a single thought: she needed to figure out what was causing these bizarre occurrences. With its cryptic note and mysterious powers, the bracelet seemed to be the only explanation. With trembling hands, Lisa reached down to her wrist, fingers fumbling over the smooth surface of the bracelet. She tried to slide it off, but it refused to budge as if fused to her skin. Panic rising within her, she attempted to cut it off with scissors from her desk drawer, but the metal remained unscathed as if mocking her futile efforts. Frustration boiled within her, mingling with a sense of helplessness. She was trapped, bound to this cursed bracelet with no means of escape. Each wish only seemed to entangle her further in its magic web, leaving her more powerless than ever. Desperate for answers, Lisa began to make wish after wish, each more fervent than the last. She wished for the bracelet to be removed, for knowledge about its origins, for it to disappear entirely, for it to stop meddling with her life. But with each wish, nothing changed. The bracelet remained firmly in place, keeping her captive until satisfied. Defeated, Lisa slumped back in her chair, tears of frustration pricking at the corners of her eyes, threatening to overwhelm her with the magnitude of the situation she found herself in. How had a simple bracelet turned her life upside down in such a short amount of time? As she leaned back, on the edge of tears, "I wish I at least had a new pair of panties," she muttered under her breath, more as a desperate plea than a genuine belief in its fulfillment. With tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Lisa's whispered wish hung heavy in the air, a stark reminder of her desperation for a reprieve from the chaos. As Lisa attempted to gather her composure and focus on her work, she reached into her purse for her earbuds, hoping that immersing herself in music would offer a temporary escape from the chaos swirling around her. With trembling fingers, she fumbled through her bag until her fingertips brushed against something unexpected. Pulling out her hand, Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she stared at the object now nestled in her palm—a pristine pair of panties, neatly folded and seemingly untouched by the events of the day. She blinked in disbelief, unable to comprehend how they had appeared in her purse as if materializing out of thin air. For a moment, Lisa questioned her sanity, her mind reeling from the inexplicable sight before her. But as she reached out to touch the fabric, her fingers tracing the delicate lace trim, she couldn't deny the reality of the situation. Somehow, her wish had been granted again, this time in a manner that defied all logic and reason. As Lisa looked around the bustling office, her heart pounding with apprehension, she couldn't shake the nagging suspicion that someone must have seen her moment of desperation, running to the bathroom. Thinking she might have leaked and needed a new pair. But as she scanned the room, her gaze darting from one face to another, she found no trace of recognition or curiosity in the eyes of her coworkers; hell, no one was even glancing her way. Breathing a sigh of relief, Lisa focused on getting changed and cleaned up. Grabbing her purse, she stood up and headed towards the bathroom, knowing she needed a way to conceal the pull-up for safe disposal. She is glad to at least have a change of underwear, her mind racing with a million questions and fears. What if they think she can't control her bladder? What if she couldn't? The thought made her skin crawl with unease, a cold shiver running down her spine as she pushed open the door to the restroom. Inside, the familiar hum of running water and whispered conversations greeted her, a comforting backdrop to the chaos swirling within her mind. With practiced ease, Lisa made her way to the nearest stall; thankfully, the line had subsided, her movements brisk and efficient as she locked the door behind her and quickly shed her soiled garment. A sense of relief washed over her as she peeled off the wet pull-up. A chill ran up her body as the cool air of the restroom offered a welcome reprieve from the suffocating discomfort of the past hour. With trembling hands, Lisa hastily donned the fresh pair of panties, her fingers fumbling with the delicate lace trim as she struggled to compose herself. But as she finished dressing and prepared to leave the stall, a sudden wave of panic washed over her, the fear of discovery gripping her heart with icy fingers. What if someone saw her leaving the stall with the pull-up in her purse? The thought made her stomach churn with dread, her mind racing with a million worst-case scenarios. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, Lisa closed her purse after burying the pull-up as far down as she could. With a determined stride, she unlocked the stall door and stepped out into the restroom, her gaze sweeping the room for any sign of prying eyes. To her relief, the restroom was empty, the only sound the distant chatter from the hallway outside. With a sigh of relief, Lisa made her way to the nearest trash bin, her movements quick as she dug out the pull-up and disposed of it. But as she left the restroom, her heart skipped a beat as she collided with a familiar figure standing right outside, her eyes widening in surprise as she found herself face to face with Sarah. "Hey, Lisa!" Sarah exclaimed, her tone bright and cheerful as she offered her friend a warm smile. "Fancy running into you here. Everything okay?" For a moment, Lisa felt a surge of panic coursing through her veins, the fear of discovery threatening to overwhelm her. But with a forced smile and a casual shrug, she brushed off Sarah's concern with practiced ease, her voice steady despite the turmoil within her. "Yeah, everything's fine," Lisa replied, her tone light and nonchalant as she sidestepped Sarah's probing gaze. "Just needed a quick break, you know how it is." Sarah nodded understandingly, her expression sympathetic as she reached out to squeeze Lisa's shoulder in a gesture of support. "Of course, I get it," she said, her tone gentle and reassuring. "Well, if you ever need to talk, you know where to find me. I'm always here for you." "Thanks," Lisa said, her voice tinged with warmth as she met her friend's gaze. "I really appreciate it. There's been a lot going on lately that I'm honestly still working through. I could use a coffee date if you're up for it tomorrow?" "Absolutely! Text me over the details later; I'm open all day." With a final nod of gratitude, Lisa turned and headed back to her desk, her mind still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions and revelations that had unfolded throughout the day. As she settled into her chair, she couldn't shake the lingering sense of impossibility. Glancing at the clock, Lisa realized she still had a few hours left in the workday. With a determined sigh, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside her worries and distractions as she delved into her work with renewed determination. As the hours ticked by and the end of the workday drew near, Lisa's curiosity got the better of her. With a hesitant glance around the office to ensure no one was watching, she reached down to her wrist and touched the smooth surface of the bracelet, her fingers tracing its intricate patterns with a sense of trepidation. Summoning her courage, Lisa closed her eyes and made a wish, her voice barely above a whisper as she spoke the words that would set the wheels of fate in motion. "I wish I didn't have to ride the bus," she murmured, her heart pounding as she awaited the inevitable response. To her surprise, the answer came swiftly and unexpectedly as a ringing phone. Startled, Lisa reached for her cell phone, her pulse quickening with anticipation as she answered the call. "Hello?" she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she held the phone to her ear. "Hey, sweetie, it's Mom," came the familiar voice on the other end of the line, warm and reassuring. "I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing." Disappointment flooded through Lisa at the sound of her mother's voice. It was great to hear from her, but she was hoping for a call about winning a car or something. Either way, her mom's call was a comforting reminder of the love and support that surrounded her. With a grateful smile, she leaned back in her chair, feeling a weight lift from her shoulders as she settled into the conversation with her mom. As they spoke, Lisa's mother mentioned that she was in the area and offered to give Lisa a ride home from work, sparing her the usual ordeal of navigating the crowded bus and rush-hour traffic. Grateful for the unexpected gesture, Lisa readily accepted, her heart swelling with gratitude for her mother's kindness. As she hung up the phone, she couldn't help but wonder, did her wish come true? At least she didn't have to ride the bus today, but was it just a coincidence? Meeting her mom in the office lobby, Lisa couldn't help but notice the weary lines that creased her mother's face, the sadness that lingered in her eyes. Sensing that something was amiss, Lisa hesitated momentarily before approaching the subject with her mother, her voice hesitant as she spoke. "Mom, is everything okay?" she asked, her tone filled with concern as she searched her mother's face for any sign of distress. Her mother hesitated momentarily, her gaze drifting away as if lost in thought. But then, with a heavy sigh, she finally spoke, her voice tinged with sadness and resignation, as her eyes began to tear up. "No, sweetheart, everything's not okay," she admitted, her words weighted with emotion. "Your father and I... we're having some problems. I... I left him this morning. Nothing's final, but I'm frustrated." Lisa's heart sank at her mother's words, a wave of sadness washing over her as she realized the depth of her parents' troubles. She reached out to her mother, offering a comforting hug as tears welled up in her own eyes. "I'm so sorry, Mom," Lisa whispered, her voice choked with emotion. "I had no idea things had gotten this bad. You don't have to talk about it now if you don't want to, but know that I'm here for you, no matter what." Her mother returned the embrace, holding onto Lisa seeking solace in her daughter's arms. "Thank you, sweetheart," she murmured, her voice muffled against Lisa's shoulder. "I just need some time to figure things out. But it means the world to me to know that you're here for me." As Lisa and her mom walked out of the office building towards her mom's car, Lisa couldn't help but notice the trunk of her car was packed full of her belongings. Concern etched lines on Lisa's forehead as she glanced at her mom. "Mom, where are you staying?" Lisa asked gently, her voice filled with worry. Her mother sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and uncertainty clouding her expression. "I... I don't know yet," she admitted, her voice tinged with sadness. "I just needed to get away for a while, figure things out." Lisa's heart ached for her mother, the weight of their shared troubles pressing down on her shoulders. Without hesitation, she squeezed her mom's hand, offering a silent gesture of support. "You can stay with me," Lisa blurted out before she could second-guess herself. "I mean, if you want to. My apartment isn't big, but we'll make it work." Tears welled up in her mother's eyes, gratitude shining bright amidst the uncertainty. "Oh, sweetheart, thank you," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I don't know what I would do without you." As they reached Lisa's car, her mother hesitated before turning to her with a hopeful smile. "And if you ever need a ride somewhere, just let me know. I'll be there for you." As Lisa's mom's words hung in the air, Lisa felt her heart skip a beat, her mind racing with a sudden, chilling realization. Could it be possible that her wish had inadvertently affected her mother's behavior? The thought sent a shiver down her spine, the weight of guilt settling heavily upon her shoulders. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as Lisa replayed the events of the last two days in her mind, searching for any connection between her wishes and the events that had unfolded. It was too much of a coincidence to ignore—the timing, the circumstances, everything seemed to point to her. As her mother climbed into the driver's seat and started the car, Lisa's thoughts whirled with uncertainty and fear. What had she done? What if her wishes continued to impact the lives of those around her, causing unintended consequences and chaos? Chapter 5: Motherly Advice As Lisa and her mom drove back to Lisa's apartment, the silence between them was intense, the air thick to the point where you could cut it with a butter knife if you wanted to. Unspoken words and unresolved emotions lingering in the air. Lisa stared out the window, lost in thought, her mind still reeling from the realization that her wishes might be affecting those around her. Her mom glanced over at Lisa, concern etched on her face. "You've been quiet, sweetheart. Is everything okay?" she asked, her voice gentle. Lisa blinked, gazing away at the passing scenery to meet her mother's worried eyes. "Yeah, Mom, everything's fine," she replied, forcing a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. Her mother studied her for a moment as if trying to decipher the truth hidden behind Lisa's facade, but ultimately, she sighed and returned her attention to the road. "Alright, sweetheart, if you say so," she said, her tone tinged with disappointment. Lisa's heart twisted with guilt at the hurt evident in her mother's voice, but she couldn't bring herself to confide in her just yet. Not when she didn't fully understand the extent of the situation herself. As they pulled into the parking lot of Lisa's apartment building, Lisa felt a knot tighten in her stomach. She glanced over at her mother, her heart heavy with the burden of her secret. How could she explain what was happening without sounding crazy? "Thanks for the ride, Mom," Lisa said softly as they stepped out of the car, her eyes avoiding her mother's concerned gaze. Her mother frowned, sensing Lisa's unease. "Are you sure everything's alright, Lisa?" she asked, reaching for her daughter's hand. Lisa forced a reassuring smile, the weight of her guilt threatening to crush her. "Yeah, everything's fine. Just a lot on my mind lately, you know?" she replied, her voice tight with emotion. Her mother's expression softened with understanding, but Lisa could see the worry lingering in her eyes. "Well, if you ever need to talk about anything, you know I'm here for you, right?" her mother said, her voice filled with love and concern. Lisa nodded, her throat tight with unshed tears. "Thanks. I appreciate it," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. As they made their way to Lisa's apartment, her mind raced with a whirlwind of emotions. How could she fix the situation with her parents? Would a wish fix it? The thought of her mother being affected by her wishes filled Lisa with a sickening dread. Once inside her apartment, Lisa helped her mother carry in a few bags of clothes, among other things, her movements distracted as she tried to push aside her mounting anxiety. But as they set the bags down in the living room, a sudden urge gripped Lisa "Shit..." she cursed under her breath as she stumbled backward, nearly dropping the bags she was holding. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm, concern etched on her face. "Lisa, what happened? Are you okay?" she asked, rushing to her daughter's side, concern etched on her face, Lisa forced a tight-lipped smile, her mind racing with panic. "I-I'm fine, just need to use the bathroom," she stammered, her voice strained with the effort of holding back her urgency. Without waiting for a response, Lisa hastily set down the bags and bolted towards the bathroom, her hand pressed tightly between her legs as she fought to maintain control. Her mother's worried gaze followed her daughter's frantic movements, her heart twisting with concern at the sight of Lisa's obvious distress. As Lisa reached the bathroom door, her bladder screamed for release, a hot wave of pressure coursing through her body. With a shaky exhale of relief, Lisa pushed open the door and stumbled into the bathroom, her legs shaking with the effort of holding back her impending accident. Her mother hovered anxiously in the hallway, her eyes wide with concern as she watched her daughter's desperate dash to the toilet. With a frantic whimper, Lisa reached the toilet just in time, her body trembling with the effort of holding back her desperate need to pee. With a shuddering sigh of relief, she collapsed onto the seat, her bladder releasing a torrent of pent-up pressure. Hisssssss..... Outside the bathroom, Lisa's mother stood frozen in place, her heart heavy with worry as she listened to the sound of her daughter's desperate relief. There were no signs she had to pee that bad. Did she even know she had to go that bad? Her mom thought, worried about the health and well-being of her daughter. As Lisa sat on the toilet, her mind raced with a whirlwind of confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden urges to pee? It felt like her body was betraying her at the worst possible time, given the weird magic with the pull-ups appearing when she pees herself. After a few moments, Lisa managed to compose herself enough to stand up and flush the toilet. She washed her hands, her mind still reeling from the recent events. When she opened the bathroom door, her mother was waiting outside, her expression a mix of concern and confusion. "Are you... okay? That was quite a close call," her mother said, her voice gentle yet probing. Lisa tried to brush off her mother's concern, a faint blush tinting her cheeks with embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry about that. I guess I just got caught up in bringing the stuff in and didn't realize how bad I needed to go," she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother, however, wasn't buying it. "Honey, that was more than just getting distracted. Are you sure everything is okay?" she asked, her tone gentle but firm. Lisa shifted uncomfortably, her mind racing for a plausible explanation. "It's nothing, Mom, really. Just a one-off thing," she insisted, avoiding her mother's probing gaze. Her mother sighed, placing a comforting hand on Lisa's shoulder. "Sweetheart, this isn't the first time something like this has happened, is it?" she asked, her voice filled with concern. Lisa's cheeks burned with shame as she shook her head, unable to meet her mother's gaze. "No, it's not," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. Lisa's mother's brow furrowed with worry. "That isn't normal, honey. How long has this been happening?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern. Lisa hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. "It's been... a couple of days," she admitted, her voice barely audible. Her mother's eyes widened in alarm. "A couple of days!? We need to get you to a doctor," she exclaimed, her voice filled with urgency. Lisa's heart sank at the thought of having to explain everything to a doctor. "I-I don't think it's necessary, Mom. It's probably just stress or something," she stammered, her voice tinged with desperation; how could she possibly admit to having a toddler's bladder issue as an adult to another person? Her mother shook her head, her expression firm. "No, Lisa, this could be something serious. We need to get you checked out," she insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. With a heavy sigh, she nodded, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. "Okay, Mom. I'll go to the walk-in later," she promised, her voice barely above a whisper. Her mother's expression softened, her worry evident in her eyes. "Okay, just promise me you'll take care of yourself, alright?" she said, reassuringly squeezing Lisa's shoulder. Lisa forced a smile, grateful for her mother's understanding. "I will, I promise," she said, her voice steadier now. With a nod, her mother released Lisa's shoulder and turned towards the door. "Alright, well, let's get the rest of these bags in, shall we?" she said, her tone lightening as she tried to change the subject. Lisa nodded, relieved by the change in topic. "Yeah, sounds good. And hey, how about we order takeout for dinner tonight? My treat," she suggested, hoping to distract her mother from pressing the issue further. Her mother smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. I could go for some Chinese food. What do you think?" she asked, her enthusiasm contagious. Lisa grinned, grateful for her mother's easy acceptance. "Chinese it is, then. I'll go grab the menus, and we can decide what to get," she said, heading towards the kitchen. As they settled on their dinner choices, the tension that had filled the apartment dissipated, replaced by a sense of normalcy that was comforting to both. They spent the evening enjoying their meal and catching up on each other's lives, the earlier events pushed to the back of their minds, at least for the time being. As the night wore on, Lisa and her mother finished their dinner and settled into a comfortable routine to end the night. They chatted about mundane things, and eventually, it was time for bed. "Goodnight, Mom," Lisa said, warmly hugging her mother. "Thanks for the ride today." "Goodnight, sweetheart," her mother replied, returning the hug. "Any time, honey, consider me your personal driver for now. haha!" Her mother laughed jokingly. With a concerned smirk, Lisa watched as her mother went to the couch, where she would sleep for the night. Once her mother was settled, Lisa headed to her own bedroom, feeling mixed emotions. Was my wish the cause of my mom's separation? On her way to her bedroom, Lisa passed by the bathroom and decided she should head there first, hoping to relieve herself before bed, even though she didn't feel the need to go. Luckily, to her surprise, she ended up peeing a ton from all of the fluids she had since having dinner. "Thank GOD! I better not need to pee so badly in the morning." Relieved, Lisa got up and headed to bed, the day's events weighing heavily on her. She lay awake for hours, her thoughts racing as she tried to make sense of everything that had happened. Eventually, exhaustion overtook her, and she drifted to sleep. Chapter 6: Nosy Mother With a groan, Lisa slowly blinked her eyes open, feeling surprisingly refreshed despite her troubled dreams. She stretched languidly, relishing the warmth of her bed for a few moments before reality came crashing back. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, preparing to start her day, a sudden, urgent pressure gripped her bladder, causing her to freeze mid-stretch. Frustration and confusion warred within her as she realized she had just gone to the bathroom before bed and shouldn't be feeling such a strong urge to pee so soon. "Damnit," She cursed under her breath; she quickly scrambled to her feet, her muscles protesting the abrupt movement. She hurried out of her bedroom, intent on reaching the bathroom before it was too late. As she rushed down the hallway, the noise of her footsteps echoing in the early morning silence, she inadvertently woke her mother, who had been sleeping on the couch. Her mother stirred, rubbing her eyes sleepily as she sat up, concern etching lines of worry on her face. She watched Lisa disappear into the bathroom, her heart heavy with unspoken questions. She knew something was wrong, but she also knew that Lisa wasn't ready to talk about it yet. As Lisa closed the bathroom door behind her, she let out a frustrated sigh, her mind racing with confusion and fear. What was happening to her? Why did she keep experiencing these sudden, uncontrollable urges to pee? Lisa's heart pounded in her chest as she ran towards the toilet, her hand shaky for her worry of wetting herself again. With a desperate attempt, she grabbed the toilet seat to lift its lid, only for her worst fears to be realized. Hiissssss The pressure in her bladder had reached its breaking point, and before she could even get the seat up, she felt her body betray her, releasing a torrent of urine. Shame washed over her as she stood there, helplessly wetting herself, a pull-up miraculously appearing, absorbing the mess, leaving her pajama pants dry. With a defeated gasp, Lisa collapsed onto the tiled bathroom floor, feeling the soaked pull-up under her butt, bulky from absorbing all of her pee. There she sat next to the toilet, tears welling up in her eyes as frustration and embarrassment overwhelmed her. She hugged her knees to her chest, feeling utterly defeated by her body's betrayal yet again. The cool tiles starkly contrasted the warmth and wetness between her legs. Tears running down her cheeks as she realized the extent of her predicament. She was a grown woman, yet here she was, wearing a wet pull-up like a toddler. "Why does this keep happening to me?" she cried, her voice trembling. "It's not fair!" The sound of her voice echoed in the small bathroom, mixing with the soft hum of the ventilation fan overhead. When Lisa's mom heard her daughter cry out from the bathroom, she got up to check on her. "I'm too old for this," Lisa muttered bitterly, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Her mother knocked softly on the door, concern evident in her voice. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Lisa wiped her tears and took a deep breath, trying to compose herself. "I'm fine, Mom. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" She heard her mother's footsteps recede down the hallway, leaving her alone with her thoughts. She knew she couldn't keep hiding this from her mother, but she also didn't know how to explain what was happening to her. Lisa pushed herself up from the floor, her legs feeling weak and unsteady. She stumbled slightly, caught off guard by the weight of the sodden pull-up between her legs. With a shaky breath, she reached down and removed her pajama pants, revealing the bulky garment. Tears continued to flow from her eyes as she stripped off the pull-up, the cold air of the bathroom meeting her damp skin. She balled it up, a sense of shame washing over her as she tossed it into the trash can with a soft thud echoing in the small bathroom. Lisa quickly pulled her pajama pants back on, the fabric feeling soft and clingy against her skin. She hurried back to her room, her mind racing about how to handle the situation. She searched her dresser for a clean change of clothes and realized she needed to get laundry done; she only had two pairs of clean underwear left. Grabbing one of them, she rushed back out of her room towards the bathroom to shower and remove the smell of pee before speaking with her mom next. However, she was too late; as she approached the bathroom door, she was stunned to see it was already closed and locked from her mother going in there while she grabbed her clothes. *** Lisa's mom, Carol, stood outside the closed bathroom door. Concern for her daughter mingled with a growing sense of unease as she tried to make sense of the situation. She had heard Lisa's cries, and her instinct as a mother told her that something was seriously wrong. "I'm too old for this," she heard Lisa mutter. "I shouldn't have to wear these stupid pull-ups like a child." Carol hesitated, her hand hovering over the doorknob as she tried to process Lisa's words. Pull-ups? Why would Lisa be talking about wearing pull-ups? The confusion only added to Carol's growing concern, as she gently knocked on the door. "Lisa, dear, are you okay? Can I come in?" Carol called through the door, her voice laced with worry. There was a moment of silence before Lisa responded, her voice strained. "I'm fine, Mom, Just... just give me a minute, okay?" Carol hesitated, torn between respecting her daughter's privacy and wanting to comfort her. Ultimately, she decided to give Lisa the space she needed and stepped back from the door. As she waited outside the bathroom, Carol's mind raced with questions. What does she mean she is too old for this? Too old for what? Was she really wearing a pull-up? Before Carol could dwell on these thoughts any longer, she heard the sound of the bathroom door unlocking, followed by the soft click of its opening. Lisa stood in the doorway, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy from crying. Carol's heart broke at the sight of her daughter's anguish, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. But before Carol could say anything, Lisa rushed off to her room. Carol watched her daughter retreat down the hallway, a sense of helplessness washing over her. She knew she couldn't force Lisa to talk if she wasn't ready, but that didn't make it any easier to stand idly by while her daughter suffered. With a heavy sigh, Carol stepped into the bathroom, locking it behind her. Her eyes scanned the room for any sign of what had caused Lisa's distress. The air was thick with the scent of urine, and Carol wrinkled her nose in distaste as she made her way further into the room. Her gaze landed on the trash can near the sink, and her heart skipped a beat as she noticed the crumpled pull-up lying discarded inside. Carol's breath caught in her throat as she reached for the pull-up, her fingers trembling with disbelief. She lifted the pull-up from the trash can, her eyes widening in shock as she took in its sodden state. Clearly, this wasn't just a one-time accident; there were already two in the can. Lisa must have been wearing pull-ups for some time now. Why didn't she tell her mother? Have they grown more distant than she thought? Carol searched the bathroom, her heart pounding in her chest, her mind reeling with questions. She opened cabinets and drawers, looking for any sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa was using. But to her confusion, she found nothing. As Carol stood in the bathroom, her mind reeling with unanswered questions, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease settling in her stomach. She glanced around the room, her eyes scanning every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. But the bathroom offered no answers, only the lingering scent of urine. Her heart heavy with concern, Carol carefully placed the pull-up back into the trash can, her thoughts consumed by worry for her daughter. Lisa had always been independent and resilient, but seeing her distressed was tearing at Carol's maternal instincts. With a heavy sigh, Carol turned to leave the bathroom, her mind still racing about how to approach Lisa about what she had discovered. But before she could take a step, a sudden knock at the door startled her, causing her to jump in surprise. "Mom, are you almost done in there?" Lisa's voice came from the other side of the door, tinged with impatience. "I really need to take a shower." Carol's heart sank at the sound of Lisa's voice, the defeated tone in her voice only added to Carol's growing sense of worry. She had been so preoccupied with her thoughts that she hadn't even considered how her actions might affect Lisa. Now, feeling guilty for being the cause of slowing down Lisa's efforts to clean herself up from her accident this morning. "Sorry, sweetie, I'll be out in just a minute," Carol replied, her voice strained with emotion. She quickly moved to the toilet, her need to pee still present. As Carol relieved herself, her mind raced with thoughts of how to handle the situation with Lisa. She knew she needed to talk to her daughter about what she had discovered, but she also didn't want to invade Lisa's privacy or make her feel ashamed. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Carol finished her business and flushed the toilet, her thoughts still in turmoil as she washed her hands. She took a deep breath, trying to steel herself for the difficult conversation ahead, before finally opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. Lisa was waiting just outside the bathroom, her expression a mix of frustration and embarrassment as she watched her mother emerge. Carol's heart ached at seeing her daughter's troubled face, and she longed to wrap her in a comforting embrace. "I'm sorry for taking so long, sweetie," Carol said softly, gently touching Lisa's arm. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting." Lisa forced a small smile, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's okay, Mom. I just really need to take a shower." Carol nodded understandingly, stepping aside to let Lisa pass. As her daughter disappeared into the bathroom, Carol couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt gnawing at her conscience. She knew she couldn't avoid the conversation they needed to have, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for Lisa than they already were. Unsatisfied with the answers she had found so far, Carol turned to Lisa's room. As Carol entered Lisa's room, she couldn't shake the feeling of unease that had settled in her stomach. She felt conflicted; she didn't want to invade her daughter's privacy, but she knew she needed to find some answers. With a heavy heart, she began to search the room, careful not to disturb anything from where it was. Her eyes scanned every corner in search of some clue that might shed light on the situation. As she opened drawers and checked closets, Carol's heart sank further. There was no sign of the package of pull-ups Lisa had been using, and only one pair of clean underwear was left in her daughter's drawer. Carol felt a wave of sadness wash over her as she concluded that Lisa must have been struggling with her bladder for a while now. With a sigh, Carol closed the drawer and turned to leave the room, her mind still racing with unanswered questions. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about what was happening, but she also didn't want to make things any harder for her daughter than they already were. She just wanted to reassure her that it was alright and that she would be there for her. *** As Lisa stepped into the bathroom, a knot of anxiety twisted in her stomach. She couldn't shake the worry that her mother had seen the pull-ups in the trash. The thought made her heart race with panic, but she quickly pushed it aside, telling herself she was overthinking things. With trembling hands, Lisa quickly stripped off her pajamas and stepped into the warm embrace of the shower. The hot water cascaded over her body, washing away the physical evidence of her embarrassment. As she stood under the spray, lost in her thoughts, Lisa's phone buzzed on the bathroom counter, startling her out of her thoughts. Confused, she reached for it, her fingers struggling to unlock the screen from the shower's steam. A text from Craig flashed across the display, and Lisa's heart skipped a beat at the sight of his name. Despite everything that had happened, his message brought a small glimmer of comfort to her troubled mind. "Hey, babe. Just wanted to check in and see how you're doing. I know work has been crazy lately, but I'm here for you, okay? Let me know if you need anything. Love you ❤️" Tears pricked at the corners of Lisa's eyes as she read Craig's words. Despite the chaos around her, his unwavering support was a beacon of hope in the darkness. With a watery smile, Lisa quickly typed a reply, her thumbs flying across the screen. "Thanks, Craig. I really appreciate it. I've just been really busy lately and barely hit my deadline on Friday. But knowing you're there for me means the world. Love you too ❤️" As she hit send, a sense of relief washed over her. No matter the challenges, she knew she had people around her who cared about her. Craig, Sarah, and Mom would all be there for her. Even with that reassurance, Lisa felt a small pit in her stomach as she thought about what had happened with her mom and dad. Even if they are there for her now, what happens if she makes a foolish wish that ruins their life? Could she live with herself if that were to happen? Lisa pushed off her worries for now. She finished drying off, getting dressed in a checkered black and white skirt, a pair of nylons, and a white blouse with a jacket over the top. As she dressed, she couldn't help but feel a pang of anxiety about meeting Sarah and revealing the truth about the magic bracelet. But she knew she needed to confide in her friend; she couldn't keep this secret to herself. Sarah was the perfect person to confide in. Sarah had always been a good listener and had a knack for offering practical advice. With a deep breath, Lisa grabbed her phone and sent Sarah a text message asking her to meet at a local coffee shop. She hoped that Sarah would be able to help her navigate the chaos that had become her life ever since she had received the bracelet. As Lisa exited the bathroom, her heart raced with the fear of encountering her mother, her mind still reeling from the morning's events. She clutched the trash can tightly, determined to dispose of the evidence of her accidents before her mom could find them. She didn't want anything else to complicate her already chaotic situation. However, as she made her way down the hallway, trying to keep her footsteps as quiet as possible, Lisa froze in her tracks as she heard her mother's voice from the living room. "Lisa, honey, wait." Carol's gentle tone sent a shiver down Lisa's spine, and she felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. She couldn't face her mother right now, not with the shame of her secret weighing heavily in her hand in the trash can. But before Lisa could retreat outside to dispose of the evidence, Carol appeared in the hallway, her expression a mix of concern and confusion as she approached her daughter. "Sweetie, are you okay?" Carol asked, her voice soft and gentle. "I saw you rush into the bathroom earlier in a hurry, and... well, I just want to make sure you're alright?" Lisa's heart clenched at the worry in her mother's eyes, and she swallowed hard, trying to find the right words to say. She couldn't bear to lie to her mother, not when she had always been there for her, but she also couldn't bring herself to admit the truth about the magic bracelet. "I'm fine, Mom," Lisa replied, forcing a smile despite the turmoil inside her. "Just... you know, when you gotta go, you gotta go." Carol studied her daughter's face for a moment, her brow furrowed with concern, before nodding slowly. "Alright, if you say so, sweetie," she said, though her voice was tinged with uncertainty. "Maybe try going before going to bed next time. haha," She laughed, trying to joke and lighten the mood. Lisa's face blushed a slightly brighter red. "Yeah, I tried that last night, but it didn't work as well as I hoped. Honestly, I wish I didn't have to pee so bad when I woke up. haha," Lisa tried joking back in hopes of keeping her mom off the trail of what was really going on. As if this was a totally normal thing for her to deal with. "Right?! I guess I can relate to that." Carol replied, trying to ease up the embarrassment she saw she was indirectly causing. "Are you taking out the trash?" she asked, her curiosity piqued, trying to change the subject. Lisa's cheeks now burned with embarrassment as she realized she had been caught in the act. "Uh, yeah," she stammered, her mind racing for an excuse. "I... I just noticed it was getting full, so I thought I'd take care of it." "Do you mind taking out this bag with you? I would have done it sooner, but I didn't know where the bins are here," she said, pointing to the bag she had from the day before, leaning up against the door. "Sure, I can do that," Lisa replied, quickly grabbing the bag and trying to run out the door before her mom could see what was in the trash bin in her hand. "Is there anything you need, sweetie? I was about to head out to the store, so if you need anything, just let me know." Carol asked her daughter, curious if she would admit to needing more pull-ups. Lisa's heart skipped a beat, worried her mom might have seen the pull-ups and assumed she needed more. "Uh, no, Mom, I'm good," she replied quickly, her mind racing for an excuse. "But... um, actually, I was planning to meet Sarah for coffee later. Do you think you could give me a ride?" Carol's expression was soft, nodding with a smile. "Of course, sweetie," she said. "I'd be happy to give you a ride. Just let me know when you're ready to go, okay?" Lisa's heart swelled with gratitude for her mother's support. "Thanks, Mom," she said, her voice lighter than before, as she felt a weight removed, hoping things were more normal. "You're the best." With a final smile, Carol turned and headed back to the living room, leaving Lisa alone in the hallway with a sense of relief washing over her. She knew she couldn't keep hiding the truth from her mother forever, but for now, she was grateful for the chance to spend time with her friend and get the trash out before her mom could try to confront her about the pull-ups. Chapter 7: Coffee Date The coffee shop came into view as Carol's car pulled up to the curb. People were bustling in and out of the coffee shop, seemingly in a hurry to get wherever they were going. Lisa's stomach fluttered with nervous anticipation as she glanced out the window. She took a deep breath, preparing herself for the conversation she knew she was about to have. As the car came to a stop, Lisa started to exit the car; Carol's gentle voice interrupted her, concern etched in every line of her face. "Are you sure you don't need anything from the store? I can pick up anything you might need?" Carol's offer carried a note of worry, her hope that her daughter would open up about her needs. Lisa forced a smile, trying to reassure her mother. "No, Mom, I'm good, really. I have everything I need." But before she can fully step out, Carol's concern spills over into another question, one Lisa had hoped to avoid. "When are you planning on seeing the doctor? It has me worried about you." Lisa felt a pang of defensiveness rise within her. It's not that she doesn't appreciate her mother's concern; it's just that she's too embarrassed about the situation to want to bring it up with someone else. She hardly wanted to talk to Sarah about it, but they'd been best friends for years now, and the number of times she's had to help Sarah get home after getting too tipsy at a club and wetting herself, she knew Sarah would be the last person to judge her about this situation. "I'll get to it, Mom, I promise," Lisa replies, trying to strike a balance between reassurance and deflection. "But honestly, I'm feeling fine today. Really." Carol's worry hardly dissipates, but she nods reluctantly, knowing when her daughter is putting up walls. "Okay, honey. I'm here for you if you need anything." Lisa nods, offering another weak smile before finally leaving the car. As she watches Carol drive away, she can't shake the guilt that twists in her gut. She knows her mother only wants to help her, but opening up about the reality of her situation is a hurdle she's not quite ready to jump yet, at least not with her mom. As Lisa stepped into the coffee shop, she scanned the area and spotted Sarah sitting at their usual table near a window at the front of the shop, a warm smile on her face. Lisa felt a sense of relief wash over her; Sarah's presence always brought comfort, especially in times of uncertainty. Approaching the table, Lisa noticed that Sarah had already ordered her favorite coffee—a small gesture that meant more to her than she could express. "Hey, Sarah," Lisa greeted her friend with a grateful smile as she took a seat opposite her. "Hey, Lisa! I got your usual, hope that's alright," Sarah said, sliding the cup across the table. "How's your day been so far?" Taking a sip of her coffee, Lisa sighed, feeling the tension of the day slowly melting away. "It's been... eventful, to say the least," she replied, her thoughts briefly flickering back to her urgent need for the bathroom this morning and the pull-ups she ended up throwing out after having another accident. Sarah raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to Lisa's day than she was letting on, but she decided not to press, as she seemed a little distressed. "Well, you made it through the week in one piece. That's always a win," she remarked with a playful grin. "Yeah, barely," Lisa chuckled, grateful for Sarah's light-hearted approach. "Any exciting plans for the weekend?" The two friends engaged in some light small talk while sipping away at their favorite drinks. Discussing their respective Fridays and plans for the weekend. Sarah mentioned a new movie that was coming out and suggested they go see it together. "That sounds like fun! I'd love to see it with you," Lisa said, genuinely looking forward to spending more time with her friend. Sarah, ever perceptive, remembered seeing Carol was the one to drop her off. "We should look at show times later. I also noticed that your mom dropped you off today. Is everything okay with her?" she asked gently, her eyes filled with concern. Lisa hesitated, her mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Should she tell Sarah about the bracelet and its wishes? Would Sarah even believe her? She knew how crazy it all sounded, and the last thing she wanted was for Sarah to think she had lost her mind. As she debated internally, Sarah's voice broke through her thoughts. "Lisa, you know you can tell me anything, right? I'm here for you, no matter what." Taking a deep breath, Lisa weighed her options. On one hand, keeping everything bottled up inside was taking its toll on her mental health, and she longed for someone to confide in. On the other hand, the risk of rejection and judgment was almost too much to bear. Sarah's concerned gaze met Lisa's, and she felt a flicker of hope ignite within her. Maybe, just maybe, Sarah would understand. Maybe she'd even believe her. "I... I don't even know where to begin," Lisa started, her voice barely above a whisper. She fidgeted with her coffee cup, unable to meet Sarah's gaze. Sarah reached across the table, placing a reassuring hand on Lisa's trembling fingers. "You can tell me anything, Lisa. I'm here for you." The words hung in the air, heavy with promise and acceptance. With a shaky breath, Lisa mustered the courage to speak, her words tumbling out in a rush. "I know this is going to sound absolutely insane, but... but something bizarre has been happening to me lately," she began, her voice gaining strength with each word. "I... I've been making these... wishes, and they've been coming true. It's like magic or something, I don't know." She braced herself for Sarah's reaction, steeling herself for disbelief or mockery. But to her surprise, Sarah simply nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Go on," Sarah encouraged, her tone gentle yet unwavering. Lisa began recounting the events of the past few days—the mysterious package, the bracelet, the note. "It grants wishes, but not in the way you'd expect," Lisa explained, trying to find the right words to describe the inexplicable nature of the bracelet's powers. "I didn't believe it at first. I only put it on in the first place because I thought it was cute, but then... things started happening." She explained her experiences with the bracelet, from her wishing to no longer need to ride the bus and how her mom called shortly after, only to find out her mom and dad were separating. Sarah listened intently, her expression a mix of shock and disbelief at the news about Lisa's parents. As Sarah listened to Lisa's recounting of the events surrounding the mysterious bracelet, her initial expression of shock slowly transitioned into a more skeptical demeanor. She furrowed her brows, processing the information, but there was a glimmer of concern underlying her reaction. "I don't know, Lisa," Sarah starts cautiously, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "I mean, it's definitely... a strange coincidence, but... magic bracelets? That's a bit... out there, don't you think?" Lisa's heart sinks as she registers Sarah's disbelief. She had hoped that confiding in her friend would provide some relief, but instead, she feels a sense of isolation deepen within her. She opens her mouth to protest, to insist that it's all true, but Sarah's next words catch her off guard. "I'm really sorry to hear about your mom, Lisa," Sarah says, her tone softening with genuine sympathy. "That's a lot to deal with, especially on top of everything else you've been going through." Lisa's breath catches in her throat, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "Th-thanks," Lisa manages to choke out, her voice wavering with emotion. "It's been... rough, I... I just don't know how to process what is going on right now." Sarah nods understandingly, reaching across the table to squeeze Lisa's hand in a comforting gesture. "I can only imagine," she murmurs, her gaze filled with compassion. As the weight of the conversation hangs heavy in the air, Lisa wrestles with the urge to divulge the full extent of the bracelet's powers. She knows it sounds absurd, even to her own ears, but a part of her longs for Sarah to believe her, to validate her and the events happening to her. Before she can gather the courage to speak. However, a sudden pressure builds in her bladder, cutting through her thoughts with urgent intensity. Panic floods her senses as she realizes she's moments away from having another accident. "I... I need to use the bathroom," Lisa blurted out, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "Sorry, I'll be right back." Sarah's concern flared anew at Lisa's abrupt announcement, her brows knitting together in worry. "Are you okay? You seem... flustered." Lisa shook her head, her mind racing with anxiety. "I'll explain everything, I promise. Just... just give me a minute." Without waiting for Sarah's response, Lisa rose from her seat, her heart pounding. She knew she had to do something to prove the bracelet's magic to Sarah, to make her believe. Then, suddenly, an idea popped into her head. She was about to have an accident, which meant her underwear would change into a pull-up again. She could show Sarah her underwear and then have an accident, and they'll transform. Sarah would have to believe her at that point! "Come with me," Lisa urged, her voice tinged with urgency. "I'll show you." Confusion flickered across Sarah's features, but she rose from her seat nonetheless, her concern for Lisa outweighing her bewilderment. "Okay?" As they made their way to the bathroom, Lisa's mind raced with a thousand thoughts, her determination bolstered by the knowledge that she was about to reveal the truth to Sarah. She knew it wouldn't be easy, that Sarah might still doubt her even after witnessing the bracelet's magic firsthand. But she couldn't let that stop her. She had to make Sarah understand, to believe her. Pushing open the door to the bathroom, Lisa gestured for Sarah to follow her inside. "Watch," she instructed, her voice tinged with excitement and trepidation. "I'll prove it's not just random coincidences." Lisa's heart pounded as she led Sarah into the bathroom, her mind racing with the gravity of what she was about to reveal. She could feel Sarah's skeptical and confused gaze burning into the back of her head, but she refused to let doubt cloud her determination. As they entered the bathroom, Lisa's hands trembled slightly as she reached for the hem of her skirt. With a deep breath, she lifted it up, exposing her panties to Sarah's bewildered gaze. "Look," Lisa urged, her voice tight with urgency. "I'm not crazy. My underwear will turn into a pull-up if I... if I..." Her words trailed off as panic surged through her, her bladder protesting with increasing urgency. Desperately, she tried to hold back the inevitable, her muscles straining against the overwhelming pressure. As Lisa stood there, her eyes squeezed shut in a mix of desperation and embarrassment, Sarah's expression shifted from confusion to shock. "Lisa, what are you doing? Use the toilet!" Sarah's voice was filled with a mix of disbelief and worry as she took a step closer, reaching out as if to offer support. "I-I'm sorry," Lisa stammered, her voice strained with effort. "I just... I need you to believe me. Please, just watch." With a deep breath, Lisa forced herself to relax, letting go of the last shreds of control she had over her bladder. Silence hung in the air, broken only by the sound of urine hitting the floor and pooling below her. Nothing happened. There was no magical transformation, no pull-up appearing to save her from the humiliating accident she had just experienced. Instead, Lisa felt the warm, wet sensation spreading down her legs, the sign of the bracelet's magic taunting her. Why didn't it work? Her eyes snapped open in horror, tears welling up as she looked down at the puddle forming at her feet. She had hoped that the bracelet's magic would somehow prove her right, but all it had done was leave her feeling stupid, foolish, and extremely embarrassed in front of her closest friend. Sarah's gasp of shock was the only sound in the bathroom as she took in the scene before her. She could hardly believe what she was seeing, her mind struggling to make sense of the surreal situation unfolding in front of her. "L-Lisa... what just happened?" Sarah's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with disbelief. Lisa could only hang her head in defeat, unable to find the words to explain. She felt a wave of shame wash over her, knowing that she had proven nothing and now probably seemed even crazier to Sarah than before. Now, feeling like she had just lost all sense of reality. "I-I'm so sorry, Sarah," Lisa choked out, her voice trembling with emotion. "I thought... I just thought if you saw it, you'd believe me about the bracelet. But I was wrong. I was so wrong." Sarah's expression softened with genuine concern as she stepped forward, reaching out to gently touch Lisa's trembling shoulder. "Hey, it's okay," she said, her voice filled with compassion. "Accidents happen, you know? I mean, how many times did you help me out at the club?" But despite Sarah's words of comfort, Lisa couldn't shake the crushing weight of her embarrassment. She felt like a total idiot for doing this on purpose in front of someone. Why didn't she think of a better way to prove the bracelet's magic? With a shaky breath, she stepped back from the puddle to see the damage that was done. "I... I think I just need a moment," she murmured, her voice thick with emotion. Sarah nodded understandingly, her concern etched in every line of her face. "Of course, take all the time you need. I'll be right outside if you need anything." Sarah quietly exited the bathroom, leaving Lisa alone with her shame. Lisa sat down, wondering if she could ever face her friend again. The weight of her humiliation threatened to overwhelm her with tears. How could she even bring herself to step out and face Sarah again? Chapter 8: Shopping As Carol navigated the familiar streets to the store, her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of Lisa. She couldn't shake the worry that lingered since her daughter had started acting strangely, especially after finding those pull-ups in the trash. Pulling into the grocery store's parking lot, Carol grabbed her list and headed inside. The store was bustling with activity, shoppers weaving in and out of aisles, their carts filled with the week's necessities. Carol couldn't help but overhear bits of conversation from nearby shoppers as she wandered through the aisles. Seeing one little girl ask her mom to use the potty while doing a potty dance only exaggerated her thoughts about Lisa and her close calls. Pushing her cart along, Carol collected different items on her list, her thoughts drifting back to Lisa. She had always been a bit of a worrier, but lately, it seemed like something more was weighing on her daughter. Carol glanced down at her list, her eyes catching on the item with a question mark next to it: "Pull-ups?" She furrowed her brow, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach as she considered the implications. Should she really be contemplating buying pull-ups for Lisa? Would that be crossing a line? Would Lisa appreciate the fact she didn't have to ask? With a sigh, Carol pushed her cart forward, weaving through the bustling aisles of the grocery store. As she passed by the baby care section, she couldn't help but steal a glance at the pull-up packages on the shelves. She scanned them, trying to match the design she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. There were dozens of different styles and brands. But it had to be here somewhere. The ones in the trash were rather childish, nothing like a grown-up would wear or what you could get at the pharmacy. Carol's steps slowed as she approached the baby care section, her eyes scanning the shelves for any hint of familiarity. She felt a pang of guilt for even considering buying pull-ups for Lisa without her consent. But the worry gnawing at her heart was too strong to ignore. She began to sift through the various packages, her eyes tracing over the different designs and sizes. None of them seemed to match what she vaguely remembered from the discarded pull-ups at home. She let out a frustrated sigh, feeling lost in a sea of unfamiliar products. "Excuse me, ma'am, can I help you find something?" a voice interrupted her thoughts. Carol looked up to see a store employee with a friendly smile. "Oh, um, yes, I'm looking for pull-ups," Carol replied, feeling a flush of embarrassment. The employee nodded. "Sure, what size are you looking for?" Carol hesitated, unsure of how to answer. She didn't want to reveal too much about her daughter's situation to a stranger. "Um, I'm not exactly sure. I think for some older kids?" The employee nodded understandingly and led Carol to a different section of the aisle, where the bedwetting pull-ups were stored. Carol's heart sank as she realized the gravity of the situation. How had Lisa ended up needing pull-ups? Was it a medical issue? Or was there something else going on that she didn't know about? With a heavy heart, Carol thanked the employee for the help. Staring at the package of the same pull-ups she saw in the trash, she felt torn. Should she pick them up? It seemed like Lisa was out of them at home, or at least she couldn't find any of them. Would buying them only embarrass Lisa more? Carol shook her head, trying to push aside her growing concern. She continued down the aisles, methodically ticking off the remaining items from her list, but her mind kept returning to Lisa and the pull-ups. Maybe she should pick them up just in case? The worst case scenario is she totally misread the situation and can just return them, and the two of them will laugh about this one day. Torn, Carol returned to the baby care aisle, selected a package that seemed to match the ones she had seen at home. Finally, with her cart filled and her list completed, Carol made her way to the checkout counter. As she waited in line, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was invading her daughter's privacy in a way she never had before. She began to unload her groceries onto the conveyor belt. But she couldn't shake feeling embarrassed for her daughter as she placed the package of overnight pull-ups on the belt. Her cheeks blushed lightly at the thought that she was buying these for her adult daughter. As Carol finished placing the last of her items on the belt she felt her phone buzz in her purse. She fished it out and saw a message from Sarah, Lisa's close friend. The message caught her off guard, and she quickly glanced around to ensure no one was looking over her shoulder as she read it, briefly looking at the pack of pull-ups before opening the text. "Hey Carol, wanted to give you a heads up. I'm gonna take Lisa over to my place for a bit, and then we're gonna catch a movie. So don't wait up for us, I'll drop her off at home later. Let us know if you need anything." Carol's heart skipped a beat with relief as she read the message. She felt slightly concerned for her daughter, for not being able to get her to the doctor today; feeling she should have been more adamant about it. But it is nice to hear Lisa is getting some girl time in. Carol quickly sent a thumbs-up emoji, and paid for her items brushing off the embarrassment about buying pull-ups. She doesn't have to have a direct conversation with Lisa about them now, or at least for a little while. Carol drove back to the apartment. On the drive, she began to think about what she should do with the pack of pull-ups. Should she leave it on the table for them to talk about when she gets home? No. That would be a bad idea, what if Sarah comes in to chat? Then, it would be on full display. What about her bedroom? Sarah wasn't likely to go in there. But what if Lisa brings back a guy? It would be a little awkward with her mom there, but it would be even worse if he saw a pack of bedwetting diapers on her bed. Then, it struck her. Duh, I can just leave them in her underwear drawer. No guy will go in there unless he is a creep, and if that's the case then they aren't meant to be anyway. When she arrived home, Carol rushed to bring in everything. As Carol brought the groceries inside, she couldn't shake off the weight of concern that had settled in her chest since finding those pull-ups in the trash. She made multiple trips from the car to the apartment, each time feeling the pull of worry tugging at her thoughts. Finally, with everything brought in, Carol began sorting through the bags to find the pull-ups. She located them nestled among the groceries and pulled them out, feeling a sense of apprehension. She knew she needed to talk to Lisa about them, but the right opportunity hadn't presented itself yet. With the package of pull-ups in hand, Carol made her way towards Lisa's room. She hesitated at the doorway, her mind racing with uncertainties. How would Lisa react to finding them? Would she be upset? Embarrassed? Would she even understand why Carol had bought them? Pushing aside her doubts, Carol stepped into Lisa's room and began searching through her stuff again, hoping to find a pack of pull-ups that were just well hidden. But no matter how hard she tried, she kept coming up empty-handed. She even pulled out the drawers to see if Lisa had hidden them behind the drawers but turned up nothing. Where was she keeping them? After a lot of rummaging, she finally gave up, opting to leave the pull-ups – tucked away in Lisa's underwear drawer. It seemed like the most discreet option, ensuring they would be there when Lisa needed them without drawing unnecessary attention. As Carol placed the package in the drawer, her fingers brushed against something else – a small box containing a note. Curiosity piqued, she picked up the box and examined its contents. The note inside caught her eye, and she read it over carefully, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Is this some kind of joke?" Carol muttered to herself, shaking her head in disbelief. The idea of a magical bracelet granting wishes seemed too absurd to be true. Without giving it a second thought, she left Lisa's room in a state close to its original so as not to raise suspicion. Chapter 9: What are Friends for? As Lisa gingerly inspected her skirt, relief flooded her when she realized the fabric hadn't visibly betrayed her humiliating accident. With a shaky sigh, she began to peel off her wet underwear, her cheeks burning with embarrassment at the mess she had made. Not wanting to stay in urine-soaked underwear or have any way to carry them out of the bathroom without it being clearly visible, Lisa opted to dispose of the soiled garment. Lisa grabbed some paper towels, used them to dry off her legs, and tossed several on the floor to help mop up the puddle she had created. Not wanting to leave a mess for the staff to clean. She quickly used her feet to mop up the evidence of her mishap the best she could before she disposed of the soaked paper towels; luckily, they also helped to bury her underwear sitting in the trash can. Just as she was beginning to regain some composure, a gentle knock sounded on the bathroom door, causing Lisa's heart to skip a beat, freezing her in her tracks. "Lisa? Are you okay in there?" Sarah's voice was filled with concern, muffled by the closed door. Lisa's heart eased with gratitude at the sound of her friend's voice. Despite her mortification, she couldn't help but feel warmth at Sarah's support. Lisa called out, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. Her voice was slightly hoarse from the lingering embarrassment. "Yeah, I'm okay. Just... just give me a minute, okay?" There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning as Sarah pushed open the door, her concerned gaze meeting Lisa's. "I brought you something," Sarah said softly, holding out a rolled-up fabric bundle. I keep a new pack of underwear in my car for emergencies, and I thought you might appreciate a pair ." Lisa's eyes widened in surprise as she accepted the offering, touched by Sarah's thoughtfulness despite the situation's awkwardness. "Thank you," she murmured, her voice choked with emotion. "I... I really appreciate it." Sarah smiled sympathetically, her eyes warm with understanding. "No problem. We've all been there, right?" As Lisa quickly changed into dry underwear, a sense of gratitude washed over her. She felt so lucky to have a friend like Sarah in her life—someone who didn't judge her for the awkward moment she had just put her friend through, someone who just so happened to be ready for something like this to happen, someone who she could talk to, to get her thoughts, fears, and secrets out to. "Looks like you've got everything taken care of," Sarah remarked, breaking the silence as Lisa finished changing. "Yeah, thanks to you," Lisa replied, smiling gratefully at her friend. They stood there momentarily, the weight of the situation still hanging in the air. Lisa felt the urge to make another wish, to undo everything that had happened, but she hesitated. She remembered what happened with her mom. What unforeseen consequence would happen with a wish to undo something already done? She couldn't risk making things worse. Sarah must have sensed her friend's turmoil because she spoke up. "Hey, why don't you come over to my place? You can take a shower and relax for a bit. Maybe it'll help clear your mind." Lisa appreciated the offer and nodded, relieved to escape her apartment and her mom for a while. "That sounds really nice, actually. Thank you." As they left the bathroom and headed towards the exit, Lisa couldn't shake the feeling of unease. She knew she had to be careful with the bracelet and its wishes, but she couldn't ignore the temptation to use it again. The power it held was both alluring and terrifying. Once they were in Sarah's car, Lisa glanced at the bracelet on her wrist, feeling conflicted. She thought about wishing to undo everything that had happened, to erase the embarrassment and the mess. But something held her back. She couldn't shake the feeling that using the bracelet again would only lead to more trouble. Sarah tried to distract Lisa from what happened. "Hey, I've done it a thousand times," she said, trying to ease Lisa's embarrassment. "Don't sweat it. We all have our moments." Lisa nodded, grateful for Sarah's understanding. She couldn't shake off the embarrassment, but Sarah's reassurance helped. "I just wish this whole thing hadn't happened," Lisa muttered, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment. "That was the most embarrassing thing ever." Sarah comforted her friend, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I know it feels like a big deal now, but trust me, we'll laugh about this one day. In the meantime, let's hit the road to my place so you can get that shower. And hey, we can still go see that movie we talked about if you're up for it." Lisa managed a weak smile, grateful for Sarah's friendship. "Yeah, that sounds good. Thanks." As they drove to Sarah's place, Lisa couldn't help but wonder why nothing had happened. She made a wish, just like she had done with not wanting to ride the bus. Only nothing changed. She was still embarrassed about what happened. She was still in Sarah's car, still wearing different underwear than when she started the day. She stared at the bracelet momentarily, frustrated that it refused to work how she thought it would. It didn't protect her from peeing herself; it got her mom in a separation, and now it was ignoring her. This thing is a curse! As they arrived at Sarah's place, Lisa felt a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. The short ride had provided a small respite from the day's events, but she knew she couldn't escape them entirely. Sarah's apartment building was familiar yet unfamiliar, a place Lisa had never visited despite their close friendship. Sarah led the way, her steps brisk as they ascended the stairs to her apartment. Lisa followed, her mind still reeling from the day's events. She couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the nagging suspicion that the bracelet on her wrist was more trouble than it was worth. Inside Sarah's apartment, Lisa took in her surroundings with curiosity. The space was cozy and inviting, filled with warmth and a comforting home scent. Sarah gestured for Lisa to make herself comfortable as she disappeared into another room, returning with a bundle of clothes moments later. "Here you go," Sarah said, offering Lisa the clothes with a sympathetic smile. "I grabbed you some clean clothes and a towel. The bathroom's right through there." Lisa accepted the clothes gratefully, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. "Thanks." Once inside the bathroom, Lisa hesitated momentarily, her fingers trembling as she reached for the hem of her shirt. She paused, her reflection staring back at her with a mix of uncertainty and resignation. How had her life come to this? Soiling herself as if she couldn't control it. She never imagined herself in a situation quite like this. All of this chaos in her life, all of it because of a cursed bracelet? Shaking off the thoughts, Lisa focused, quickly undressing until she was just in her underwear. She stared at herself in the mirror, the image reflecting back at her a stark reminder. She couldn't help but feel a sense of déjà vu wash over her. She had been in this situation before, just a few days ago when she got the bracelet. She stood in the bathroom staring at her reflection looking at a wet pull-up she was wearing. Here she was again. Having had an accident, only this time, she was in underwear. The pull-up, no-where to be seen. Just as Lisa was about to step into the shower, Sarah's voice interrupted her thoughts from outside the bathroom door. "Hey, I'm going to order some takeout. If there's anything specific you want, just text it to me. Otherwise, I'm just going to get some Chinese food." "Sounds good! Thanks." Lisa called back, her voice brimming with gratitude. As she stepped into the shower, the warm water cascading over her body, Lisa couldn't help but feel relief washing over her. The day's events seemed to fade away if only for a moment, replaced by a fleeting sense of peace. She was grateful for the opportunity to wash away her shameful moment, leaving it in the past. Once she had finished showering and dried off, Lisa dressed in the clothes Sarah had left for her, feeling grateful for her friend's kindness. Not only was she understanding, but she was also being overly generous. Sarah gave her a pair of brand new underwear again, a pair of sweat pants, and a large hoodie—the perfect comfort clothes to combat the stressful day she had had so far. As Lisa emerged from the bathroom, Sarah greeted her with a warm smile. "Feeling better?" Lisa nodded, her spirits lifted by the comfort of her friend's presence. "Yeah, thanks to you." Sarah smiled, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Anytime, Lisa. That's what friends are for." Lisa and Sarah settled in to enjoy their takeout, the tension of the day began to melt away. They chatted and laughed; Lisa told Sarah about her date with Craig tomorrow. Excited to be able to see him again and enjoy a nice meal with him. The comfort of their friendship eased Lisa's earlier embarrassment. Lisa felt grateful for Sarah's understanding and support, her worries about her accident and the pull-ups momentarily forgotten in the warmth of the evening. As they finished their meal, Sarah glanced at the clock and frowned. "We should probably head out soon if we want to make it to the movie on time," she said, double-checking the time on her phone. Lisa nodded, a sense of unease creeping back into her mind. She knew she had no way of controlling the bracelet's magic. Not yet, at least. Not wanting to embarrass herself any more than she already had, she knew she needed to use the bathroom before they left. She couldn't risk ruining Sarah's clothes or embarrassing herself again. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick," Lisa said, trying to sound casual despite her nerves. She didn't feel the need to go, but waiting until she needed to go hasn't been working out the best for her lately. "I'll meet you by the door." "Take your time, Lisa. We're in no rush." As Lisa entered the bathroom, she couldn't shake the feeling of dread that washed over her. She stared at herself in the mirror, the worried look in her reflection a stark reminder of the day's events. She couldn't let another accident happen, not now. Taking a deep breath, Lisa moved herself over to the toilet and sat on it. She tried as hard as she could to relax and let herself go. She couldn't feel any sensation that it was working. It was like her body had chosen to ignore her completely now. Suddenly, she heard the splashing water and a stream running. She let out a sigh of relief. Maybe she could get through the rest of the day without further embarrassment. She knew she still had to be careful with the bracelet, especially now that its magic had been confirmed and seemed unpredictable. She couldn't risk trusting it to replace her underwear and prevent an accident. After using the bathroom, Lisa took a moment to compose herself, her mind racing with thoughts of the bracelet and its powers. She couldn't help but feel a sense of regret for ever putting it on, for ever making those wishes. But she also knew she couldn't change the past. All she could do now was be cautious and hope for the best. As she rejoined Sarah in the living room, Lisa forced a smile, trying to push aside her lingering worries. "Ready to go?" Sarah nodded, standing up from the couch. "Yeah, let's go."

This story has been on hiatus for but while I deal with ... life. But I'm picking it up again and getting back to more regular updates, so I figured I may as well start sharing it here as well. I've been a part of the Invader Zim fandom for a while, and there's barely any ABDL content there, so I had to fix that. Chapter 1: Once is an Accident ... i. “GAHHH!! FUCK YOU, GIR!!!!” The shout from the kitchen had Dib launching himself off the couch and sliding to a halt on the tile in his socks in no time flat. He was greeted with the sight of pink milkshake over every conceivable surface; the ceiling, the counter, the walls, the table, and all over both a thoroughly amused GIR and a very angry Zim. “Shit, Zim,” Dib groaned. “I told you messing with your PAK in the kitchen was a bad idea.” Zim’s PAK sat open on the kitchen table, half dismantled from Zim’s attempt at installing an upgrade. Zim’s body seemed to have shielded it slightly, but it was still spattered with sticky pink liquid. “I didn’t think he was gonna start the blender with the top off!! ” Zim shouted, aggravated, as he rushed to mop up the mess with his shirt before it seeped too far into his PAK. “I can’t put it back on like this!!” Dib checked his watch. He’d been keeping a countdown to make sure Zim’s PAK wasn’t off for longer than the ten minute maximum. “We’ve got eight minutes before it becomes a problem. GIR —” He looked over at the robot, who was currently trying to lick milkshake out of the blender, “— start cleaning up the kitchen.” GIR saluted and gave a shrill, “Okie dokie!!!” before dashing off to grab some towels. “My life is starting to flash before my eyes, Dib!!!” Zim whined as Dib grabbed a handful of napkins and briefly ran them under the faucet. “We’ve still got time, you fucking drama queen,” Dib admonished, shoving a the napkins at Zim. “Start cleaning up with those, and I’ll follow with some rubbing alcohol to make sure everything’s dry before you plug it back in.” Zim nodded and they quickly got to work. It wasn’t long before the tight space made their tag team effort more difficult than Dib had planned, however, especially as Zim’s coordination rapidly spiraled downwards. After watching him smear strawberry chunks around for an agonizing thirty seconds, Dib finally pushed his hands aside. “We’ve got five minutes,” Dib warned. “Let me finish this and you just try to stay conscious.” Zim’s skin was an ashy shade of green and his eyes were glassy and unfocused. Even when all he had to do was sit still, he was visibly trembling. “I don’t feel so good, Dib,” he whispered hoarsely. “I know, bug, but just hang in there.” Despite the tension in the air, Dib tried harder than ever to maintain a calm demeanor, reassuring Zim in dulcet tones while scrubbing away at the sticky goo spattered all over. Behind him, he could hear GIR mostly pushing the rest of the disaster around, and he was positive he was going to need to clean that up later, as well. As the minutes ticked down, Dib’s anxiety rose like a tsunami, threatening to crash down on him every time Zim moaned in discomfort. He was down to his last minute before he knew it, and there was still a cluster of wires he had yet to clean. It was just out of reach and if he had more than sixty seconds left, he would have grabbed a cotton swab to finish cleaning them off. As it was, he twisted a napkin to give it a bit of rigidity, and blindly stuffed it in while checking his watch. “Shit.” Thirty seconds left. He shook his head and pulled his makeshift cleaning device back out. “This’ll have to do, Zim.” He leaned over and hauled Zim up onto his lap. The poor little Irken was barely even responding at this point. With seconds to spare, Dib lifted the PAK to Zim’s back and the cables shot out to reconnect with the ports on Zim’s back. Zim’s eyelids fluttered and he groaned incomprehensibly, but as he squinted and rubbed his eyes, the color was beginning to return to his cheeks. “You feeling alright?” Dib asked nervously. That last spill had been worryingly close to an awful lot of connections. Zim nodded, sliding off Dib’s lap and onto the floor. He did a couple toe touches, stretched his arms, and bounced up and down on the balls of his feet. “Yep. Everything seems to be in or—” A sudden zap of electricity made his body convulse and PAK spark. Dib watched in silent horror as Zim suddenly went limp and fell to the floor, antennae twitching twice before falling still. Before a single coherent thought could pass through Dib’s head, he jumped up and grabbed the silicone pot holders from the counter and used them to turn Zim onto his side. The Irken didn’t seem to be breathing, but it was difficult to tell for sure. Dib retrieved his phone from his pocket and held it under Zim’s mouth, waiting for it to fog up. When it didn’t, a sick knot of realization began to form in Dib’s belly. He had no idea how to give an alien CPR. He had a vague idea of Zim’s internal structure, but the question of how to restart things had simply never come up. And when even successful human CPR led to a few broken ribs, he was leery of injuring Zim further. “Stand clear.” The robotic, monotone voice sent Dib scurrying backwards in a panic. Had Zim’s PAK really just spoken ??? Was it allowed to do that on its own?? That question certainly hadn’t ever cropped up before in all the years they’d known each other. Another jolt of electricity arced between Zim’s antennae, making his muscles twitch and jerk for a few painfully slow seconds before he was still once more. Dib leaned forward, heart hammering in his chest and breath stuck in his throat. “Zim?” he whispered, reaching out with a shaking hand. Zim’s face screwed up and he let out a low groan before opening his bleary eyes. “S-sugar …” he mumbled. Dib fell forwards and hugged him tightly. “Oh thank fuck!! I thought you died!!” “Ow … I did ,” Zim grumbled. Dib sat up so fast he saw stars. “ What‽‽ ” Zim laboriously pushed himself up into a sitting position and rubbed his temples. “Well, I’m not dead now, idiot. My systems reset themselves,” he said thickly. “Death is rarely a permanent state, Dibby.” “God forbid there be a normal day in this household,” Dib sighed as GIR scooted by on a towel, oblivious and smearing pink stickiness across everything in his wake. Zim groaned and rubbed his head. “Getting reset depletes sugar reserves, so I’m going to need you to get me off this floor and grab me a snack before I keel over again.” Zim still seemed too weak to properly hold on to anything, so Dib lifted him in a bridal carry and carefully walked him to the couch. He set Zim down, propped up against the pillows, and gently touched a hand to Zim’s cheek. His skin was clammy and slightly pale, but at least he was obviously alive. “Are you gonna be alright?” Dib asked worriedly. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just grab me a glass of Tang and a couple sugar cookies,” Zim replied in much more subdued tones. Dib gave his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “You got it.” He strode into the kitchen, but stopped dead at the edge of the tile. GIR was sprawled out on the floor, attempting to make milkshake angels. Dib sighed, edged around the kitchen, and opened one of the cupboards to fish around for a bucket. Once he’d located one — and dumped out all the junk it contained — he filled it with soap, water, and a bit of rubbing alcohol. GIR did better when the list of steps to complete a task was as small as humanly possible, so mixing the cleaning solution before handing the task off reduced the opportunity for errors. “Alright, you’ve had enough fun,” Dib said irritably, shoving the bucket at a thoroughly unphased GIR. “I don’t care if you strap sponges to your feet or make yourself a towel taco, I just need this mess gone.” “Caaaan dooooo,” GIR yelled, snatching the bucket from him and dashing towards the sponges as soapy water sloshed onto the floor. Dib skirted out of his way and busied himself with grabbing Zim’s requested snack. He returned to the living room with a plate of sugar cookies and Tang in one of GIR’s sippy cups. Zim gave the cup a slightly hard stare, but ultimately shook his head and didn’t question the choice. “So I was thinking,” Dib said as he carefully sat down beside Zim, “we should take it easy for the rest of the day, considering you died for around forty-five seconds. We can just hole up and watch some horror movies, get some soda and kettle corn into you, that sort of thing.” Zim snuggled against Dib, head on his chest. “Works for me. I still feel … Ugh , it’s hard to put into words,” he grumbled, taking a long sip of his drink. “Something feels off, but I can’t explain it.” Dib frowned, numerous worries occupying the back of his brain. “We could take your PAK off again and try to do a more thorough job of cleaning it out?” he offered. “Not right now,” Zim said, squeezing his eyes shut. “If you take too long, it’s going to be that much harder on my body. I’m really not in any shape for that right now.” He nestled in closer, as if proximity to Dib would fix things. “I just …” He looked up at Dib, concern scrawled across his face. “Hold me?” he asked, voice barely a whisper. Dib’s expression softened to one that was very nearly pity. Zim had a habit of being a pain in the ass and prickly more often than not, but he regularly demanded physical comfort whenever he was feeling less than stellar for any reason. “Yeah,” Dib replied gently. “But let me grab you some kettle corn and cocoa, first.” Zim shook his sippy cup and raised his eyebrows. “In a mug?” “In a thermos ,” Dib corrected. “I don’t need you spilling all over the couch when the kitchen is already a disaster.” An hour or so later, as morning spilled into golden autumn afternoon, the kitchen was finally clean and they were midway through one of Dib’s favorite horror movies. Zim sat snuggled under multiple blankets on Dib’s lap with a belly pleasantly full of warm drinks and sugary snacks. His color has finally returned to normal and he was no longer shivering. By all accounts, he was back to normal. Still, though, he couldn’t shake the feeling something was different . As he struggled to pin down exactly what or why , a sudden crescendo of music crashed through the speakers in a cheap jump scare, startling Zim back to the present with a horribly unwelcome jolt. He was suddenly glad that Dib had insisted on giving him all his drinks in containers with a top. He grumbled under his breath, ruffled, before settling back down against Dib, vaguely aware that the space between them felt a bit warmer than it had a minute ago. Beneath him, Dib shifted slightly, froze, then freed his arm from around Zim to blindly feel around under the blankets for a moment before coming to a rest. “Er … Zim?” “What?” Zim asked gruffly, still miffed that the movie had managed to startle him as badly as it did. “Did you lose your phone again? Because I’m not getting up this time.” Dib opened his mouth, let out a sort of strangled sigh, then bit the inside of his cheek, brow furrowed. “Did you … uh. Jesus, there is no easy way to ask this …” He pressed his palm to his forehead before spitting out in a single breath, “ Please tell me you just spilled your cocoa. ” Zim turned and raised an eyebrow, holding up his thermos. “No? Why are you—” As he shifted, he finally felt what Dib was talking about, and his eyes went wider than flying saucers. “ Oh my god , Zim,” Dib groaned, taking him under the arms and lifting him away like a badly behaved cat. As he stood up and the blankets fell away, there was no question what had happened. Both their pants were soaked, along with a sizeable portion of the cushion beneath them. Zim stood in a small puddle, dripping and purple-faced with embarrassment. “How did you not feel that??” Dib asked, more baffled than upset. “Everything was already really warm!” Zim insisted frantically. Dib gave him a look that was equal parts worry and horror. “You didn’t even feel like you had to go??” Zim tossed his arms up in frustration. “Do I look like I’m five?” “I’m not trying to be an ass here, Zim,” Dib insisted, trying to tone down his intensity to something Zim would find less offensive. “I just need to know if you had any idea this was gonna happen, before it happened.” “Of course I—!” Zim stopped mid sentence, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t gotten any of the usual signals. Not so much as a twinge. “I mean, I think … fuck.” He stared down at the puddle around his feet. “I … didn’t feel anything,” he finally admitted in hushed tones. Dib pushed his glasses up to rub the bridge of his nose. “Shit. Alright. Well, first of all, you’re banned from screwing with your PAK anymore until we sort this out.” Zim shot him a snide expression. “You can’t ban me from fixing my own brain, Dib!” “Until we figure out exactly what went wrong? Yes, I can.” Dib glanced down at his soaked pants with a frown before seeming to give up and start unbuttoning things. “Just take all your clothes off here,” he instructed as he peeled away his wet clothes. “You take everything up to the wash. I’m gonna shower off and run out to the store real quick.” Zim paused in the middle of attempting to pull his socks off, balancing on one foot. “Why are you going to the store?” he asked, suspicious. Dib’s face contorted into something that was somewhere north of innocence and south of pity. Zim scowled back. “Why are you going to the store, Dib ?” he asked, enunciating each word with palpable malice. Dib held up his hands. “It’s just as an ‘in case’ measure, alright?” Zim sucked in a breath and puffed out his chest, blustering and fuming in what Dib could only imagine was very angry Irken. “It was ONE TIME !!!” he finally spat out, incensed. Dib nervously ran a hand through his hair. “Okay … and if it isn’t just one time?” Zim growled something under his breath, fists at his sides. “It might not be related to the issue with your PAK, but if it is, I’d rather be prepared,” Dib said simply. “You’re not putting me in diapers!” Zim snapped. “Fine. No diapers. But I am gonna grab a pack of pull-ups or something, just in case ,” Dib said as he tossed his underwear onto the pile, trying to remain blasé about the whole thing. Which was a difficult thing to pull off while naked and covered in piss. Zim spied Dib’s cock poking out of a thicket of hair and abruptly looked away before he could get distracted. Not to mention, he was vaguely concerned that getting turned on in wet pants might rewire him in an even worse way. He merely crossed his arms and faced away. “I’ll get you some snacks as a consolation,” Dib said as he turned to walk upstairs. “We’re almost out of Fun Dip, right? I’ll get you more of that.” Zim gathered the clothes and blankets and damp cushion with the help of his PAK legs to steady everything. He’d stupidly put his clothes-cleaning contraption upstairs, but at least he’d had the foresight to put it right outside the lift. The stairs were really just for Dib’s benefit. It was the only way the kid got any exercise, some days. Zim pulled aside one of the large speakers beside the TV to reveal the interior of an elevator, and climbed inside with his bundle. He reached the top just as Dib finished hosing himself off in the shower, and got to work loading the machine with all of the damp clothes and blankets. Dib dressed himself in a flash, hurriedly striding towards the stairs before Zim was even finished. “I’ll be back before you know it!” Dib called on his way down. Zim gave only a non-committal grunt. “Text me if you think of anything you want!” “Hmph.” Zim rolled his eyes and slammed the door to the washer shut, irritably poking at the controls until it chimed happily and began chugging away. Zim waited, one antenna perked, until he heard the front door close and lock behind Dib. His human would be gone for at least ten minutes, and ten minutes was all Zim needed to get back inside his PAK and fix this irritating little hiccup once and for all. ii. Dib’s truck rumbled along the road back home, the breeze from the windows making the bags beside him billow and snap. He caught a glimpse of the package contained inside and felt himself blush slightly. Although the situation was embarrassing and slightly worrying when it came to Zim’s overall health, Dib found that he was strangely un-squicked by recent events. Even though Zim had pissed right in his lap, he hadn’t really found the situation all that revolting. If he hadn’t been so shocked at the time, it might have even been a little hot. Zim, caught in an embarrassing situation, dependent on Dib to make things better … Dib shook his head to clear it as he pulled up to the base. He doubted he could get Zim on board with that sort of roleplay. But he could dream, at least. He killed the engine, grabbed his bags, and hopped out of the truck. Scattered leaves blew across his path, catching on the tacky lawn gnomes Zim still insisted stand guard outside. Dib would have been lying if he said he didn’t find Zim’s sense of decor at least a little amusing. He opened the door and stepped inside. “I’m back!” he shouted cheerily, kicking his shoes off. He started towards the stairs, then stopped dead. The whole base was eerily quiet, except for what he’d initially written off as the wind whistling over the roof. But as he stood there, barely breathing, it had begun to sound an awful lot more like sobbing. “ Zim ??” When there was no answer, Dib dropped his bags and raced up the spiraling steps. He came to a screeching halt at the doorway to their bedroom, where Zim was crumped on the floor, sobbing and sitting in a puddle of something that Dib would have bet money wasn’t tears. Nevertheless, Dib rushed over and scooped Zim up, hugging him close. “What’s wrong??” he asked, rubbing the small of Zim’s back in an attempt to soothe him. “I tried to fix it!!” Zim wailed, breath hitching in his throat. “The wires … they were all — hic!! — fused in the wrong spots. I tried to separate them, but … but once I put my PAK back on, it … it shorted out again. And … and when I woke up I — hic!! — I was on the floor and I know I just made it worse!!” Anger swelled in Dib’s chest for a moment, but it was quickly snuffed out by Zim’s obvious upset. There was nothing to be gained by cussing him out for his actions. He was already suffering the consequences. Plus, the sounds he was making were causing Dib heartache like he’d never felt before. All he wanted was to put things right. “It’s gonna be okay,” Dib murmured, hugging him tightly. Zim shook his head, face buried in Dib’s shoulder. “No, it isn’t !! I don’t know what’s wrong but something just isn’t right!!! ” It was hard for Dib to argue. He’d never seen Zim so worked up before. He’d seen him get a little teary over things or sometimes even cry out of frustration, but he’d never dissolved into such a thoroughly inconsolable state before. “Let’s get you cleaned up, and then we can go back to taking it easy, okay?” Dib said softly. Zim took a few shaky breaths in an attempt to get ahold of himself. “Bath,” he finally mumbled, wiping his eyes. Dib was slightly taken aback. Zim usually avoided anything deeper than a puddle like the plague. “I was just gonna let you shower off, but yeah, we can do a bath, if that’s what you want.” He stood up and carried Zim to the bathroom, watching with growing concern as Zim buried his face in the front of his hoodie. He lowered himself onto the edge of the bathtub and turned on the taps, putting his wrist in the stream to gauge the temperature before plugging the drain and gently setting Zim down. “Get settled. I’ll be right back.” Dib made it to the stairs in a few long strides, descending the steps to retrieve two of the bags he’d dropped by the door. On his way back through the bedroom, he tossed one bag onto the bed, then carried the other with him back into the bathroom. He made it back up in time to see Zim adding a hefty amount of bubble bath to the water. “You’re really going all-in on this, huh?” Dib remarked as he put his back against the wall and slid to a sitting position next to the tub. Zim ducked his head nervously. “It smells nice.” Dib leaned on the edge of the tub and reached out to cup Zim’s cheek, stroking it with his thumb. “Yeah, it does. And that means you’ll smell nice when we’re cuddled up together on the couch, later.” Zim pressed against his hand with a soft purr, eyes closed, a contented smile on his face. Dib’s own sad smile slowly faded as the full weight of the interaction started to hit him. He felt like he was talking to a slightly younger Zim. At the very least, a Zim with all the usual sass and salt stripped out. And that had him worried, sure, but the worst part was, he knew full well that some part of him was enjoying the shift. Taking care of a soft, sweet Zim fulfilled some basic need he didn’t even know he had. Zim slowly opened his eyes, and the pink packaging inside the bag suddenly caught his attention. “Do I even need to ask what that is?” he said wearily. Dib gave a weak smile and finally pulled the package out of the bag. The front graphic showed an earth child in a t-shirt and what appeared at first to be purple underwear. It didn't take Zim’s earth-shattering IQ to be able to guess they weren’t that, at all. “I was a bedwetter for way longer than I care to say,” Dib admitted, cheeks going pink. “So I can personally vouch for this brand. Pluuuus ,” he added in a sing-song tone, “they’re purple and pink! Your favorite colors.” Zim stared blankly for a second, then puffed out his cheeks. “Wow, Dib. I didn’t think I could feel any more self conscious about this, but congratulations.” Dib deflated a bit and ran his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, sorry. Just try to remember that it’s not for forever, alright?” Zim opened his mouth, then closed it and shook his head, thinking better of whatever he was about to say. Instead, he grabbed a washcloth and thrust it at Dib. “There’s still some milkshake on my back,” he said quietly. “I can’t reach it myself. Can you …? Dib took the washcloth from him, dipped it into the bath water, and gently began cleaning him up. There were strawberries caked along the outline of his PAK, along with the general stickiness coating everything. Zim held uncharacteristically still as Dib worked, merely swirling his fingers in the water and watching the bubble trails. “Are you alright?” Dib finally asked after several minutes of silence. “Yeah, Dib. I’ve always wanted to start pissing myself at random. So, you know. Never better,” Zim replied dryly without looking up. “We could keep trying to fix it, you know,” Dib offered as he poured water down Zim’s back to clean under his PAK. “No,” Zim replied sorrowfully, “it’s not just the wires. Some of the chips are damaged, and they’re not like your computer chips. They’re grown, like crystals. So you can’t just slap a new one in there any more than you can take a slice of your brain and replace it.” He leaned his head against the cool tile, eyes closed. “There are tools to regrow broken chips, but I don’t have them. There’s a chance I could pick up what I need on Vort, but that’s not possible right now because of the political situation.” Dib silently wrung out the washcloth and set it on the edge of the tub. “So you’re …” “Stuck like this for the foreseeable future, yeah,” Zim confirmed, swirling the bubbles around with his finger. “And I don’t even know the full extent of what ‘like this’ is .” “You haven’t been losing any of your other faculties, have you?” Dib asked with a concerned frown. Zim shook his head. “No, I just feel weird. Different.” He pushed the water from side to side, watching the frothy waves bounce around the tub as he struggled to find the words. “Smaller, almost,” he finally whispered. “I just want physical comfort and … simple things. I don’t know …” Dib reached out and put a finger under Zim’s chin, making him look up. “You want me to take care of you?” he asked gently. As he looked into Zim’s eyes, there was no denying that something had permanently shifted. The Zim that sat in front of him seemed to be trying to take up as little space as possible. Everything about him seemed to cry out for affection, and Dib wanted nothing more than to give it to him. Zim bit his lip nervously before giving a small nod. “Y-yeah. Being taken care of sounds nice.” Dib leaned forwards and kissed him on his forehead, then sat back on his heels. “Good, because that’s what I was planning to spend the rest of the day doing, anyways.” Dib pulled the stopper out of the drain and shook out a fuzzy purple towel as Zim stood up out of the water with a shiver. In one fluid motion, Dib wrapped Zim up in the towel and whisked him up before the alien could protest. Much to his surprise, this got a genuine laugh out of Zim instead of the usual cussing-out. “Man, you are in some rare moods today,” Dib said as he kissed Zim’s cheek. Zim shrugged self-consciously. “I guess …” His blush made his freckles stand out like stars in a dusty desert twilight, and for a moment, all Dib could do was smile and take it all in. “You’re still going to make me put one of those things on, aren’t you?” Zim asked quietly, face falling as Dib set him down on his feet. “Sorry,” Dib murmured, in lieu of saying ‘yes’. “If it had just been the one accident, I wouldn’t push, but, well.” He shrugged apologetically. “Twice is kind of a pattern.” Zim dried himself off slowly, looking over the packaging that claimed the product enclosed “ looks and feels like real underwear! ” It was a bold claim that Zim wasn’t positive would be able to hold up under scrutiny. It also hammered home the fact that Zim was departing the realm of whatever “real” underwear happened to be, and he had no idea if -- or when -- he’d be returning. The uncertainty left a knot in his guts. As Zim finished drying off his legs, Dib ripped one end of the package open and pulled out something that certainly looked more like a diaper than any sort of adult undergarment Zim had ever seen. Dib handed it over and Zim, still skeptical, took it and examined it closer. At least Dib had done his best to get the good colors. But that was really the only bright spot. Zim pulled the stretchy sides wide enough to step into it, then shimmied it up until the padding was flush with his crotch. He wiggled it around a bit, noting the muted crinkle the thing made as he shifted. He looked up to meet Dib’s eyes. “This is a diaper,” he said with a wry look. “It’s just a pull-up,” Dib corrected. “Call it whatever you want, Dib,” Zim said with a sigh as he walked towards the bedroom closet. “Doesn’t really change what it is. You know. I know.” He gestured half-heartedly towards the packaging. “Even those lying marketing executives probably know.” There wasn’t much Dib could say to that, so he gave Zim a sort of well-meaning pat on the head, and went to dig through the dresser for a change of clothes. After changing into some ridiculously fluffy pajamas, they settled in for an afternoon of sugar and scary movies with the hope of taking Zim’s mind of what a disaster the day had been so far. Zim had been concerned that Dib would want to keep a bit of distance between the two of them, but instead Dib seemed to want him as close as possible. Dib tended to be fairly affectionate as it was, but tonight he was all but smothering Zim with his love, cuddling him and preening his antennae. “Normally I’d never say this, because I’m worried you’d rip my face off and wear it as a hat, but you’re really cute,” Dib murmured between cheek kisses. “I wouldn’t kick your ass for that,” Zim said dismissively. “You always assume I want to be referred to in hard, masculine terms, but I’ve never said that.” Dib raised his eyebrows in surprise. “For real?” “Yeah,” Zim said as he snuggled against Dib’s chest. “I’d like it if you called me cute more often.” Dib smiled and hugged him close. “How about adorable?” “Mm-Hmm. That one, too.” “Sweet?” “Literally and figuratively, yes.” “My little bug?” Zim stopped with a Fun Dip stick halfway to his mouth. Those words made all eight ventricles of his heart suddenly flutter so badly, he was momentarily convinced he was experiencing a cardiac event. Dib laughed nervously, “Alright, not that one. Message received.” Zim hunched his shoulders reflexively. “Um. Actually … say that one again?” Dib looked down, trying and failing to read his expression. “What? My little bug?” he repeated cautiously. Zim closed his eyes, a stupid smile spreading across his face. The words were warm and soft, like a blanket fresh from the dryer on a chilly fall evening. “Oh, you actually like that one!” Dib remarked, more than a little surprised. “I thought the silence was because you were too nice to tell me it was stupid.” “I’m never too nice to call you stupid , Dib,” Zim pointed out with a sidelong glance and a barely concealed smirk. “But yes, when you say that, it gives me the warm-and-fuzzies.” “Sure that’s not because you’ve peed yourself again?” Dib said under his breath. Zim gave him a swift elbow to the ribs for his trouble. “Be nice to Zim!” he groused with a scowl as Dib coughed and grabbed his side. “I’ve had a rough day. Asshole.” “ Fuck , I think you broke something,” Dib wheezed as tears sprung to his eyes. “ Good . Think of that next time you decide that making me feel like filthy garbage over something I can’t help is a fantastic idea.” Zim crossed his arms and leaned his way out of Dib’s lap, flopping against the arm of the couch. Well. There he was. That was the Zim that Dib knew and (mostly) loved. Dib rubbed his ribs gingerly, a sinking feeling in his guts. “Hey, I’m sorry, alright?” he offered gently. “I didn’t mean to ruin a nice moment. I … guess I was just trying to be funny.” Zim covered his head with his arms. “It’s not funny, Dib,” he said, muffled. “It’s one of the least funny things to ever happen to me!” His shoulders shook for a moment as he sucked in a deep breath. “… especially because it is wet …” he added, so softly that Dib almost missed it. “Fuck, I’m so sorry,” Dib said frantically, standing up and giving Zim’s sleeve a little tug. “C’mere. Let’s go take care of it.” Zim looked up miserably, wiping the corner of his eye on his sleeve. “I can do it myself, Dib.” “I know you can, but I said I was going to take care of you, so come here and let me handle things.” Dib reached down and made a little “up!!” gesture with his fingers. Zim gave an aggravated little snort, but eventually stood up and allowed Dib to pick him up. He wrapped his legs and arms around Dib’s body, clinging like a toddler, face buried in Dib’s shoulder to hide how badly he was blushing. “You’ve got to tell me when you need it swapped out,” Dib admonished gently as they ascended the stairs. “I was comfy,” Zim mumbled. “If that’s seriously the lie you’re going with, I’m gonna start checking,” Dib said with a warning glance. “Do you want that?” “Of course not!!” Zim sputtered. “It’s embarrassing, okay?? I don't want to draw attention to it.” “You know what’s more embarrassing?” Dib asked as he set Zim down on the floor. “Leaking all over me and the couch. Now, do me a favor and hold your shirt out of the way.” Zim sighed and lifted up his shirt as Dib deftly pulled his pants down and ripped the sides on his pull-up to take it off. He set it on the ground and pulled out a pack of wipes from the bag on the bed, then set to work wiping Zim down. It wasn’t as if Dib wasn’t already intimately familiar with all of Zim’s bits. They had a very healthy love life, and one of Dib’s favorite things to do was put his face between Zim’s thighs and absolutely go to town eating him out until Zim’s legs shook and he couldn’t see straight. But there was something altogether different about having Dib clean him up with all the gentle care in the world, absolutely devoid of sexual subtext. Or at least, that’s how it looked . “I’m starting to think you like this more than you’ve let on,” Zim said suspiciously. It was a stab in the dark, but it was also the only thing that explained why Dib seemed so completely unbothered by the whole thing. Dib shrugged. “I guess? Taking care of you kinda hits a special part of my heart just right,” he said with a genuine smile. “I don’t like that you’re in this situation, but as long as you are, I’d love to get to pamper the absolute hell out of you.” “I said no diapers, Dib,” Zim insisted nervously. “I mean I want to dote on you, dummy,” Dib said as he rolled everything up and brought it to the bin on the other side of the room. “Although diapers would make this whole thing easier. You wouldn’t need to take everything off in order for me to change you.” Zim whined as he stepped out of his pajama bottoms. “Not yet,” he said, a pleading tone to his words. Dib came back with a fresh pull-up, sprinkled with what smelled like lavender baby powder. “Suit yourself,” he said, holding the disposable underwear out in front of Zim. “Step into this, and then we’re done.” Zim put a hand on Dib’s shoulder for balance and did as he was told. “So that’s really it?” he asked as he straightened the leg bands on his hips. “You just like coddling me? You don’t have a piss fetish or anything?” Dib didn’t immediately answer, and when Zim looked up, his face was an indescribable shade of red. “ Oh my Tallest ,” Zim said, face falling. “I trusted you!” Dib fiddled with his glasses. “I’m not getting off on this!!” he insisted. A little too intently, Zim thought. “It’s more like … it’s cute??” he attempted desperately. “It’s weirdly emotionally intimate and it just makes me want to cuddle you, okay??” “So none of it is sexual?” Zim asked dryly as he pulled up his pajama bottoms. Dib tilted his head back towards the ceiling and gave a frustrated moan. “Ohhhh my gawd, alright . Look. Let me put it this way,” he said, face still on the red side of pink. “If we were fucking and you … um … you know …” Zim raised his eyebrows. Having a laugh at Dib’s expense was simply too easy. “ No . I don’t know.” Dib ran his fingers through his hair once, and then a few extra times for good measure. “Okay. Okay okay okay . If you … if you were inside of me, and you pissed …” Dib tossed his hands up on either side of him in a greatly exaggerated shrug. “I wouldn’t hate it , alright??” Zim thought for a moment, foot tapping as he watched Dib squirm out of the corner of his eye. “But would you like it ?” he asked, trying not to grin when Dib’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Gah!!! Yes, Zim! Is that what you want to hear??” he yelled. “That I fucking fantasize about having the balls to ask you to piss inside me and then fuck me in it?? ” A smile tugged at the corner of Zim’s face. He’d never seen Dib snap like this before and it was highly amusing. “Holy shit …” he whispered to himself. Dib continued on with his rant, unaware. “Because I do , alright?? I think that would be hot as hell , especially if you told me what a disgusting, perverted freak I am while you do it!!” He stopped gesticulating wildly and dropped his arms, panting. His glasses had nearly slid off his face and his hair was wild. “Are you happy now??? ” Dib demanded as Zim desperately stifled a giggle with his sleeve. “You have no idea,” he replied with a grin. “I’m not taking advantage of this situation, I swear ,” Dib said, still visibly flustered as he fixed his glasses. “You’re cute and I want to take care of you. I just also haven’t stopped seeing you as my partner so, if you want to still have sex…” He trailed off with a hopeful look. “That option is still on the table.” Zim stepped forwards and hugged Dib around the waist. “Good. Because I haven’t stopped enjoying the thought of being inside you.” Dib ruffled his antennae. “Perpetually on the same page. That’s why I love you.” Zim stepped back and made an “up!!” motion with his arms, an expectant look on his face. Dib rolled his eyes, but ultimately reached down to pick him up. “Alright, alright. One more movie, because I can’t say no to that look. But then we’re going to bed for real. It really has been a long day.”

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

Not strictly ABDL but it has some fun lesbian CG/L vibes so.... ? Trees… Trees… Trees… More Trees…… And Bang! “Ow gods damn it my arse!” The motor carriage hit a particularly nasty hole in the dirt track leading to the town of Moloheim, sending poor Tabitha Goodwright flying up out of her seat. Her Girlfriend Sarah looked over at the petite red head felidine chuckling. “Sorry hon, can’t do much about this goat track.” “Why did you even drag me out here? You know I hate field work!” “I know hon, but you’re one of the guilds best alchemists. And frankly I need to you on this. For Armetia and the revolution and all that.” The tiny redhead sighs listening to faint burble pop of the ethanol boiler, musing about the design that she helped build. Crystal heaters didn’t require fuel… They relied on ambient ether but they were next to impossible to mass produce. Requiring rare materials from the Hibor mountains. Coal fired boilers were to heavy. So pressurized ethanol it was. It certainly beat the old days of horse carriages, 60kph sustained! And no manure! Although on this pathetic excuse of a road… Not such much… The assembly was trying to modernize though, which is why they were here. Two alchemists brought in to help with the new Hydroelectric dam on in Moloheim. Another jolting bang brings her out of her musings and draws a complaint from her stomach. Wincing she realizes it’s been several hours since she last used the lavatory. “Sarah? Is there somewhere we can stop? I um… Need to use the facilities.” Sarah winces and looks over at her girlfriend, her shy school girl fidgeting a sharp contrast to her professional skirt and blazer. “Sorry luv, I can pull over so you can pop behind a tree.” “Umm I need to take a dump so.. No.” Her large expressive ears slicked back, in embarrassment. “Okay but I didn’t bring spare knickers for you if you shit yourself.” Sarah smirks and Tabitha let’s out yowl of wounded pride that clearly communicates “just you wait”. Another thirty minutes pass, Tabitha’s expression becomes increasingly destressed her large fluffy tail arcing across her back like a metronome. “Okay that’s it were pulling over.” Sarah’s tone brooks no argument as she does just that but Tabitha must defend honor and pride. “Wait no! I can hold it!” Unsuccessfully but still one must try. The taller brunette however easily lift’s her 5’1” partner out her seat and carries her to the shade of large oak, rucking the spluttering girls skirt up and pulling her undies and hose down around her ankles. Tabitha glares but breaks out laughing. “Fuck I really don’t have a choice, do I?” “No and it would have been you stinking up the motor otherwise.” Taking a squat, the blushing young woman voids her bladder and bowls onto the dry summer earth, squealing in embarrassment as she loudly breaks wind. Sarah laughs and smirks. “Your way too modest Tabi, nothing out here but us and the animals.” She punctuates her statement by breaking wind herself. “See nothing to worry about.” This elicits a fit of giggles from Tabi. “And I know your embarrassed that I can see each log drop but…” Tabitha sputters like the boiler “It’s not like I haven’t walked in on you in the washroom at home.” At this point she can only blush and whimper, helpless to do anything but keep emptying her bowels as her girlfriend lifts her own skirt and drops her hose and undies. Emptying her bladder with a loud patter. Tabitha find herself over come by an odd arousal as she drops the last of her load, finishing with another loud bit of wind. “So ummm… I don’t suppose you brought toilet paper?” “Nope, but I can do you one better.” She watches as her girlfriend conjures a ball of water, condensed from atmospheric vapor. Tabitha yelps in surprise as the jet of water hit’s her square in her sex and slides down her mons before going up her perineum and into her crevice, leaving her completely clean. “Minor Hydrokenises as a bidet. Nice.” Tabitha giggles before once again squealing loudly as the pressurized water invades her rectum. “Hey!! Was that really necessary!?” “Just making sure your completely clean love, you do have a tendency to stain your knickers like a naughty five-year-old.” Tabitha feels her face flush and her sex betray her as it throbs. “That’s what I thought” Sarah smirks as she watches Tabi expel the water with a loud “blart”. “Now….” Sarah smiles as she looks at girlfriend’s obvious arousal. “Does somebody need a cum as well before we get back on the road?” Tabi can only hang heard in embarrassment and let a quite “Yes….” At which point the tiny redhead finds herself pressed against the tree. The rough barks scratching her ass as their cunts scissor together. Tongues dueling her blouse ripped open in a spray of buttons and her bra yanked down. She feels her climax building as Sarah goes for her clit. “I want you to be as loud as possible. I want to hear my supposedly chaste little Tabi to scream like the slut she is.” Tabitha can only mule and pant and then join her girlfriend in screaming so loud that they actually send an ironic flock of tits to flight….. Five minutes later there back on the road. Tabitha’s blouse mended by transmutation and her napping exhausted in the passenger seat.

I posted several chapters of this story a couple of years ago, but I got discouraged from writing it after some rude reviews. I know that this isn’t the “typical” abdl story, and I don’t expect everyone to like it. All I expect is for people not to be rude because this isn’t the kind of story they like. Some of it has been changed, as well as a couple of minor characters’ names and ages. I’ve already spruced up/made minor changes to several existing chapters, so I’ll update fairly regularly until I hit new chapters. Sharon came in from work one Thursday afternoon in October and left the bags in her hands by the door before going to check on her seventeen-year-old foster son. Ryan had been sick for most of the week, and she hoped he was feeling a little better today. She found him lying on the couch, curled up under his favorite blanket and watching TV. “Hi, honey, how are you feeling?” Ryan peered up at her, his blue eyes glassy under his blonde bangs. “A little better.” Sharon sat on the edge of the couch and held her hand to his forehead. “You’re still a little hot. How’s your throat?” “Still hurts.” Sharon leaned down and kissed his forehead. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You’ll need to stay home again tomorrow, but I’ll stay home with you, okay?” She’d stayed home with him for most of the week, but he’d seemed a little better this morning, and she’d had some things she needed to take care of from her office today, so she’d gone back to work. Sharon took a deep breath. “Honey, I’m not quite sure how to tell you this, but we missed out on an important piece of news this week.” Ryan shrugged disinterestedly. “What?” Sharon brushed his bangs back from his face. “A law was passed this week that makes it illegal for children under eighteen to be potty-trained.” Ryan wrinkled his nose, but he didn’t quite understand what that had to do with him. Surely, that applied to kids not potty-trained yet, not to him. “So? I’m already potty-trained, and I’m almost eighteen, anyway.” “I know, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll have to wear diapers until your birthday. The ‘potty-trained’ part doesn’t really matter, either, the law basically just says that anyone under 18 has to wear diapers. We might as well go ahead and get this over with.” Sharon got the bags she’d left beside the door and opened a package of diapers. “Okay, well, uh, it’s only for a few months, anyway. I’ll just use the diapers if I really have to and change myself right after.” Sharon shook her head. “It’s not that simple. You can’t change your own diapers, I’ll have to change them for you.” “What?! Sharon, are you sure about this?” Sharon nodded. “They think kids, teenagers especially, having to be so dependent upon their parents will fix behavioral issues or something.” “Please, no,” Ryan pleaded. He felt too sick to fight her too much on this, and he knew Sharon would never lie about it. He’d also known this was a possibility for a while, he just never thought the law would pass. He hadn’t read about the specifics, because he never thought it would be an issue for him. “Wait, are you going to send me away? I know you don’t want to change my diapers.” “Absolutely not! But, if we don’t go along with this, then you could be taken away from me.” Ryan watched her with dread, but he knew there was no way out of it. “Hold on, let me go pee really quick.” He’d been about to go to the bathroom when he heard Sharon come in, but he’d decided to wait and talk to her first. “No, honey, we need to go ahead and do this. Debra could stop by at any time, especially with this new law, and we’ll need proof that we’re following it. I’m surprised she hasn’t come by already.” That was enough for Ryan not to struggle as Sharon gently pulled his pajama pants and boxers down. He’d do anything to stay with Sharon. He closed his eyes as he felt cold air hit his exposed private areas, but Sharon was quick and matter-of-fact about taping a diaper on him like it was no big deal. She patted his leg once his pajama pants were back up. “Okay, honey, if you need to pee-pee, just go ahead and go.” “Pee-pee?” Sharon gave him a wry smile. “Sorry, honey, I guess this diaper talk has me in potty-training mode. And it just sounds nicer.” Ryan was starting to get uncomfortable, but even with the soft padding pressed against him, he felt too much like he was going to wet his pants if he started peeing. Sharon went to the kitchen to start dinner and give him some privacy, but he still couldn’t make himself go. He crossed his legs to ease the pressure, and he wished he could just let it out. He didn’t want to pee, but he didn’t want to keep holding it and be uncomfortable, either. Sharon peeked into the living room. “Ryan, are you wet?” “Not yet,” he mumbled, gasping as he felt a little try to come out. He instinctively grabbed his crotch and squeezed his legs together harder, but it didn’t do much good through the thick padding. “Honey, please, just go ahead and pee-pee. I don’t think you can hold it for four months.” The intense wave of urgency temporarily disappeared, but it came back with a vengeance. After a few involuntary spurts, a slow stream he couldn’t hold back started dribbling into his diaper. Ryan shuddered as he felt his bladder completely give up for the first time since he was eight. Feeling his pee pour out even as he actively clenched and tried to hold it back felt just as helpless now as it had the last time he’d held his bladder past capacity. At least his clothes weren’t getting soaked like last time. As a child, his bladder had been small and a little weak for his age, and he’d had occasional accidents longer than most kids, both at night and during the day. It had gotten better as he got older, but he still had to be more mindful of using the toilet before getting in the car or between classes in case a teacher didn’t allow him to leave to use the bathroom than most kids his age. He closed his eyes as the slow stream became a gushing torrent and soaked his diaper with a low hiss. His hand was still clutching his padded crotch, trying to hold it in, and he could feel his diaper grow warm against his hand through his pajama pants. It was weird to lose control like this without wetting his pants. The last time this happened, he was in the second grade. His class was on the way back from a field trip, and he’d forgotten to use the bathroom before they got on the bus. He was too shy to tell his teacher he had to go until it was an emergency, and the bus driver hadn’t been able to stop somewhere before he couldn’t hold it anymore and soaked his shorts. He’d had a few close calls and dribbles into his underwear since then, but it hadn’t been a huge problem in years. After raising two sons and a daughter of her own, Sharon could tell exactly when he lost control. She let him finish before going to check his diaper. “Hmm, I don’t think you need to be changed right away. Are you uncomfortable?” Ryan shook his head. The soft, warm padding between his legs actually felt pretty good. “All right. If it gets uncomfortable before you wet again and you want me to go ahead and change you, just tell me. I don’t mind.” “Thanks, Sharon.” After dinner, they watched TV on the couch together. Ryan folded his arms over his stomach as the discomfort in his stomach grew. He usually had to poop between dinner time and bedtime, and he was dreading this even more than pee. Sharon knew what the problem was when his discomfort became apparent, so she reassuringly patted his shoulder and left the room. The kid pooped like clockwork. Ryan closed his eyes as he pushed warm mush into his diaper. His bladder released a little bit of pee as he filled his diaper, and he sighed when he was finished. His stomach felt better, but the only way to get the disgusting diaper off of him was for Sharon to change him. He was relieved when she came back in without him having to call for her. “You all done?” Ryan nodded, wishing the couch would open up and swallow him whole. “All right, I’ll go ahead and change you. Do you need to pee-pee again first?” “I already did,” Ryan mumbled, covering his face with his hands as he lay on the floor. Sharon laid out a changing mat and got a clean diaper and a box of wet wipes, then quickly cleaned him up. He winced as she maneuvered his penis with the wet wipe to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. He sighed with relief when she finally taped his dirty diaper closed, threw it away, and washed her hands before coming back and pulling his pajama pants back up. She tucked his blanket around his shoulders and kissed his forehead once he was back on the couch. “Hmm, I may need to take you back to the doctor tomorrow. If your fever isn’t a little lower in the morning, I’m making an appointment for you.” Ryan nodded and willingly leaned into her open arms. He loved how Sharon comforted him when he wasn’t feeling well, although it had taken a while to get to that point with her after he’d been taken away from his abusive parents. The soft, dry padding between his legs, his warm pajamas, and Sharon’s familiar smell made him feel cozy and cared for. Sharon absently ran her fingers through his hair as they watched TV, and it was barely 9:30 when his eyes were starting to close. “You ready for bed?” Sharon asked, noticing Ryan’s eyes getting heavy. “Yeah. I slept all day, but...” “Being sick will do that to you. Go on to bed, and I’ll bring your medicine upstairs. Try to wet your diaper so I can change you. I’d rather you be able to keep your diaper dry until morning and not have to wake up needing to go during the night.” Ryan nodded and headed for the stairs. Once he was curled up in bed, he tried to pee in his diaper. His sore throat had caused him to drink a lot that day, so it wasn’t hard to let a small stream out. Sharon came in a couple of minutes later with his medicine and a glass of water. “Oh, good, you were able to go,” she noted as she checked his diaper. Once he was changed and had taken his medicine, she tucked him in and felt his forehead. “I know your medicine might upset your stomach, so come wake me up if you need to be changed during the night, or if you start feeling worse.” She brushed his bangs back and kissed his forehead. “Goodnight, honey. Feel better.” “Thanks, Sharon.” Ryan rolled over, knowing she’d scratch his back until he fell asleep, like she always did when he was sick. When Ryan woke up the next morning, a slightly urgent need to pee drew him out of bed. In his drowsy state, he forgot that he was wearing a diaper and was confused to find his bathroom door locked. His brain registered the padding between his legs then, and he remembered that he wasn’t allowed to use the toilet. Sharon had probably locked his bathroom door as a reminder. He wanted to go back to sleep, and he was too sleepy to care about peeing in his diaper, so he willingly released his bladder and wet himself. The wet warmth that slowly encased his crotch felt good, and he easily went back to sleep. When Ryan woke up again, he was thirsty, so he got out of bed and went downstairs. Sharon was on a conference call in the kitchen and standing at the counter with papers spread in front of her. Ryan got a glass of juice and started for the living room, but she waved him over to her. He was feeling better than the day before, but he still felt sick. Sharon placed her hand under his chin and studied him before feeling his forehead. “Want eggs for breakfast?” She asked, covering the mouthpiece of the phone with her hand. Ryan nodded, wincing as Sharon gently squeezed his diapered crotch. He supposed he was just going to have to get used to diaper checks. “Oh, good, you’re already wet. I’m almost done, and I’ll bring you some breakfast and your medicine in a few minutes.” Ryan took his juice to the living room and drank just enough to soothe his throat before stretching out on the couch. Even though his diaper was already wet, he knew he wasn’t going to be as willing to wet it again as he’d been when he just wanted to go back to sleep earlier that morning. Sharon came in a few minutes later with breakfast for him, his medicine, and the thermometer. She pressed the back of her hand to his forehead and slipped the thermometer into his mouth. “You’re still a little feverish, but not as hot as yesterday...yep, your fever went down a little bit,” she confirmed after checking the thermometer. “Do you feel better? I’ll still take you back to the doctor if you don’t.” “Yeah, my throat’s still sore, but it’s better than yesterday. It’s not bad.” “All right...Drink a little more juice.” Ryan looked warily at his glass and shook his head. “Honey, don’t worry about how often you need to be changed. Drink what you need to, I don’t want you to get dehydrated. The faster you get used to me changing you, the easier it will be. Speaking of which, do you want me to change you now, or wait until you wet again? I’ll go ahead and change you if you feel gross.” “I can wait. It feels okay.” “Okay. I have to do a few things for work, but it won’t take long. I’ll come watch a movie with you when I’m finished. If you pee-pee again before I come back, come tell me. You don’t need to stay in such a wet diaper for too long...Wow, I still can’t believe I’m saying sentences like that.” Ryan rolled his eyes. “How did this happen? I didn’t think that stupid law had a chance to pass.” “I heard this morning that a lobbyist for one of the big diaper companies got their hands on some study that the legislature couldn’t ignore. Like anyone thinks those companies are worried about kids. They just wanted to find a way to expand their market. Which they did. Big-time.” “This sucks.” “I know it does. I would hate it if I were you, too. I know you can’t help but be embarrassed, but try not to be. I’ll make this as easy for you as I can.” “Thanks, Sharon.” “You’re welcome.” Sharon kissed his forehead. “Call for me if you need me.” Ryan zoned out in front of the TV for a couple of hours, and next thing he knew, Sharon was bringing him a bowl of soup for lunch. “This is the last of the batch I made on Tuesday. I’ll cook whatever you want tonight if you have more of an appetite.” “Ooh, that pasta with the chicken and mushrooms?” “I knew you’d say that. You got it.” Sharon checked his diaper. “You haven’t pee-peed again?” She asked in surprise. She didn’t know if he had any kind of bladder issues, but she’d noticed for a while that he seemed to have to go more often and had more “have to go soon or this could be bad” moments than her own kids had as teenagers. Ryan grimaced as he shifted on the couch. He’d tried not to drink too much, but his annoying sore throat had had other plans for him. His annoyingly small bladder had been making its fullness known for a while, now, and he was reaching his breaking point. “Not yet, but, uh...” “You have to go, huh?” “Yeah,” Ryan muttered through gritted teeth. He knew he was going to start peeing before long, whether he wanted to or not, but he couldn’t make himself let go. His bladder was pulsing painfully by now, and he squeezed his legs together and held himself, desperately trying to keep it in. He had to go too badly to care about the fact that he was shamelessly grabbing his crotch in front of Sharon. Wetting his diaper had been one thing early that morning when he was tired and just wanted to go back to sleep, but peeing himself while he was wide awake was just as difficult as it had been the evening before. His body wasn’t any more willing to contradict his potty-training than his mind was, and it was intent on holding his bladder until it gave out on its own. “Sharon, I can’t do it,” Ryan whined. “It hurts, and I know I can’t hold it much longer, but I can’t make myself go.” Sharon gave him a sympathetic look, her heart breaking for him. “I guess it is hard to go when you feel like you’ll wet your pants, which your body has been trained not to do for a long time now.” Sharon placed their bowls of soup on the coffee table and pulled his hands away from his crotch. The unexpected movement made Ryan jump, and he gasped as he felt his hold on his bladder loosen. He gave up and relaxed as he flooded his diaper, his cheeks flushing as an audible hiss came from his crotch. Once his stream trickled off, he pushed a little to make sure he was completely empty. The longer he could go between diaper changes, the better. “All right, honey, I think it’s safe to say you’re officially soaked. Let’s get you changed.” Ryan moved to the floor and lay down, his face flaming as Sharon placed the changing mat under him, pulled down his pajama pants, and untaped his diaper. She pulled a basket out from under the coffee table and got a clean diaper and a pack of wet wipes. Ryan winced as she moved a cold wipe across his crotch. “Why are you using those when I’m just wet?” He whined. “You’ve been in a wet diaper since early this morning. This will just make you feel more fresh and help prevent a diaper rash.” By the time Ryan was in a clean diaper and had his pajama pants back on, he did have to admit that he felt better than he would have if Sharon didn’t wipe him down. After lunch, he was getting drowsy, and he was barely aware of Sharon tucking his blanket around his shoulders and kissing his forehead as he drifted off to sleep. When Ryan woke up three hours later, he already had a nagging tingle in his bladder, no doubt due to Sharon making him finish his juice and then drink a little more while they were eating lunch. It would still be a while before he had to go really badly, but he’d probably be heading to the bathroom soon if he didn’t have to wear diapers. Sharon was siting in a chair with her computer in her lap and noticed when he started stirring. “Hey, how are you feeling?” “Better,” Ryan answered honestly. His throat was a little less sore, and he didn’t feel quite as achy. “You do look a little better,” Sharon agreed. She closed her laptop and crouched beside Ryan on the couch with her hand on his forehead. “Your temperature went down a good bit, I think you’re on the mend. Are you wet?” She asked as she moved her hand from his forehead to his diapered crotch. “Sharon. I haven’t peed myself while I was sleeping, especially for just a nap, since I was...uh, in years,” Ryan said, too embarrassed to admit how long he’d wet the bed as a kid. “Oh, I guess you’re right.” Sharon patted his shoulder. “Finish your juice. I’m going to start dinner.” Once Sharon was gone, Ryan took advantage of his drowsiness and tried to release his bladder into his diaper. His fuzzy mind and the memory of how good it had felt for the padding to slowly warm up against his crotch that morning when he didn’t wait until he couldn’t hold it anymore weakened his defenses. The fact that he’d inevitably have to do it anyway and the desire not to let himself get so full that it hurt until he endured the panic and discomfort of losing control pushed him over the edge, and he closed his eyes as he relaxed and pushed a slow and steady stream into his diaper. The wet warmth between his legs felt embarrassingly nice, but he might as well enjoy it. Now that Ryan was feeling a little better and realized he’d have to go back to school next week, he had some questions. He went into the kitchen and sat in a bar stool as Sharon prepared dinner. “So, uh, what about school next week? Like, what happens when I have to be changed?” He could probably stop drinking coffee and manage to only pee once or twice at school, but there was no way he could last until Sharon came home from work on the days she went to her office. Going to her office after school to be changed sounded embarrassing, too. “I asked about that when I called this morning to tell them you’d be absent again. The school nurse will change students when they need it, but I thought you might want to finish school online. I can work from home most of the time and be here to change you. I went to the high school and filled out the forms and got the material for it while you were napping so you can start on Monday, but I can take them back if you want to keep going to school. It’s your decision, I just didn’t think you’d be too happy about the nurse changing you.” “Oh, my god, that would be awesome. Thanks.” Sharon finished up her dinner preparations and untied her apron. “You can still see your friends whenever you want to, and they’re still welcome here any time.” “Sharon. Changing my diapers is bad enough. You don’t want to have to change theirs, too.” “Honey, I’d rather change their diapers than discourage you from seeing your friends. It’ll be fine.” After dinner, Sharon and Ryan watched a movie together in the living room. Ryan lay down in Sharon’s lap, sighing contentedly when she started running her fingers through his hair. He felt a little old for this, but he’d missed out on the childhood love and cuddling with his abusive parents. He’d been sick a couple of times since he started living with Sharon over two years ago, and it had been a little awkward at first, but he was now used to her nurturing gestures when he wasn’t feeling well and enjoyed it. After a while, he grimaced as his stomach started to cramp. It was going to take longer to get used to doing this than peeing in his diaper, no question. Peeing at least felt good. There was nothing enjoyable about this. “Um, Sharon?” He asked shyly. “Hm?....Oh. I’ll go finish cleaning the kitchen.” Sharon knew what the problem was, so she gave him some privacy. Ryan crouched in front of the couch in what Sharon called the “potty stance.” She’d never said that in reference to him, obviously, but she had a newly-potty-trained three-year-old grandson that had an aversion to pooping in the toilet. He’d only recently started doing that in the toilet sometimes, but he still had a tendency to go in his pants if someone didn’t have an eagle eye on him. Ryan knew that Anne-Marie, Sharon’s daughter, and her husband had to be frustrated with the law passing. They’d finally gotten the kid mostly potty-trained, and now had to put him back in diapers. Like Sharon, they’d just thought the law wouldn’t pass. Sharon had kept her grandson one Saturday afternoon a couple of weeks after he was out of diapers, and Ryan had taken him outside for a while. He knew nothing about potty cues in children and was confused when William ventured away from him and crouched down for a couple of minutes. He didn’t realize what had happened until William stood up and had a small wet spot at his crotch. He wasn’t wet enough for a full-blown wetting accident, and he was walking with the obvious discomfort of having a load in his pants, so Ryan figured he’d pooped in his pants and accidentally let out a little pee in the process. He didn’t know how Sharon was going to react to a potty accident. Ryan’s own parents had yelled and beaten him when he had accidents, of course, and he knew Sharon wouldn’t hurt the kid, but he didn’t want her to get angry with him, either. He’d tried to sneak William into the house so he could change him without Sharon noticing, but she’d met them at the door with wet wipes, clean underwear, and pants in her hands, explaining that she’d spotted the “potty stance” from the kitchen window. She just cleaned him up and helped him change, then gently reminded him that he was supposed to tell her or Ryan when he had to go potty. As Ryan assumed a similar stance he’d seen with William and filled his own diaper, he realized that the kid was on to something. It was a faster and more complete-feeling process when he was squatting. He’d peed a little a couple of times after wetting himself after his nap, and he let out a little more as he pooped. He’d realized that it was easier to make himself pee a little at a time before it got urgent, and it was getting easier to do it each time. Eating a full meal after a few days of eating mostly soup, his stomach was a little upset, and it took longer than usual. His appetite had returned with a vengeance, and he’d had three helpings of dinner. He lowered his pajama pants and watched his diaper to make sure it didn’t start leaking. When he was finally finished, he stood up to indicate that he was done. He couldn’t bring himself to sit down in his mushy mess, and doing so might cause him to leak. His stomach still felt a little unsettled, but he wasn’t able to go anymore at the moment. Sharon came in a couple of minutes later and got a clean diaper and pack of wet wipes. She realized she hadn’t checked his diaper for wetness in a few hours, so she gently squeezed the padding between his legs as he lay down on the floor. “Oh, Ryan, you’re pretty wet. I haven’t thought to check you. You could’ve told me if you were uncomfortable, I would’ve changed you sooner.” Ryan shrugged. “It wasn’t bad. I, uh, just went, too, so it wasn’t that wet the whole time.” He gritted his teeth and felt his cheeks flush as Sharon untaped his diaper and wiped him down. “Does your stomach hurt?” Sharon asked as she cleaned him up. Some of it was obviously a little sticky, as she’d been wiping the same spot for several moments with increasing pressure, and she obviously noticed that he’d pooped a lot more than the night before. “Not really, I think I just ate a little too much dinner.” “Okay. I can give you something to settle your stomach if I need to.” Ryan shook his head. “I think I’m okay.” Sharon finally got him cleaned up and taped a clean diaper on him. “Be right back.” Ryan stood up and tried to take his soiled diaper from her. “I can at least throw my own diapers away.” “Don’t worry about it, honey. This is the easy part.” Sharon took his diaper to the large garbage can in the garage and washed her hands before settling back on the couch with him. Later that night, Sharon gave Ryan his medicine and tucked him into bed. She’d been trying to compensate for the nurturing he had missed out on as a child, and she always tucked him in and stayed with him until he fell asleep when he was sick. She kissed his forehead and straightened his covers over his shoulders. “I love you, honey. If your stomach is still upset and you need to be changed during the night, please come wake me. I don’t want you to have to stay in a messy diaper longer than you have to.” “Mm-hmm.” Ryan hoped that wouldn’t be a problem, but he was too sleepy to worry about it now. It didn’t take long for him to fall asleep, but he woke up a few hours later with a cramping stomach. He stumbled out of bed and walked halfway to his bathroom before remembering he was wearing a diaper and had to use it. There was no way he could hold it until the next morning, or even for a couple more minutes, and he was already squirting into his diaper before he had time to crouch beside his bed. The discomfort in his stomach slowly alleviated as it emptied into his diaper, and he felt the front of his diaper grow warm as he started to pee. He realized he was going to have to wake Sharon up to change him, whether he wanted to or not. His diaper had to be close to overflowing, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep with the mess caking against him. He begrudgingly waddled downstairs and into Sharon’s room. He stood over her sleeping form for a couple of minutes before he had the courage to wake her. “Hey, Sharon,” he whispered, softly shaking her shoulder. “Sharon!” “Hmm?” Sharon sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What’s the matter? Are you feeling bad again?...Oh, I see.” The stench hit her nose as she became more alert. “I’m glad you woke me. Let’s go get you changed.” She got out of bed and rested her hand on Ryan’s back as she led him to the living room. The load in his diaper caused him to walk a little funny. Once he was changed, she washed her hands, got some Pepto-Bismol tablets out of the medicine cabinet, and poured a glass of juice. Ryan had already gone back upstairs, so she went up to his room with the medicine. He was climbing into bed and about to turn his lamp off. “Here, honey, take these really quick.” Sharon placed the tablets in his hand and gave him the juice. Once he took the medicine, she tucked him back in and felt his forehead. “I think your fever’s gone. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” “Thanks, Sharon. You’re the best.” TBC Thanks for reading!

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.