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Wattpad 1 Riley lived a monotonous life. Like any other eleven-year-old girl, she would wake up early in the morning, eat breakfast with a bowl of milk and cereal, brush her teeth and become an athlete to catch the bus that would take her to school, spend five hours listening to her teachers' endless speeches, and write down everything important on her notepad. Friends she had none. Not that she minded the company of others, let's be clear; she preferred to stay in the background and be on her own. In group work she would participate enthusiastically and do her part; when it was over she would go back to being the shy, reserved little girl she was. From time to time she imagined what her life would have been like if she had had friends. Probably, it would have been less boring and static and more eventful. Once, she posed the question to her parents, whose answers did not enlighten her much. Her father Greg told her that having friends fills the days with great excitement, while her mother Helen told her that time passes more quickly and cheerfully if one is in the company of a friend. She was still pondering this on her way home from school. She passed Vito's restaurant, then Mary-Ann's china store, then stopped at the supermarket entrance. She looked at it undecided about her next move. It was quite a long way, at least a 30-minute walk. She had finished her water bottle in the story hour; she would be thirsty even before she entered the residential area. She tapped the left pocket of her jacket, she had her wallet with her, therefore money as well. She was sure of it, she had not used it before this moment. Thus, she passed through the entrance and headed for the bottle counter. She took a fresh water bottle and set off in search of the crates, which in a single moment turned into a full-fledged treasure hunt. She found herself in the meat department, continued to the right, all the way to the back, and arrived at the area dedicated to bread. Puffing, she went back four wards and turned left. She was surprised to see the shelf of baby products on one side and the toy shelf on the other. Motionless as a statue, she admired the baby products side, especially the diapers and wet wipes in their colorful and flashy packaging. She came out of her trance-like moment by shaking her head. She reached over and grabbed a package of Pampers Baby-Dry. Fluffy, she thought. I wonder how they will fit me? Suddenly, Riley was struck with a sense of disgust and placed it back on the shelf. Why had she thought that? Why had she stopped there and held a package of baby diapers in her hands? What was happening to her? She took steps back. Her gaze shifted to a young woman with brown hair and delicate face. She, too, was looking at that section with interest. She stopped at the exact spot where Riley had been perched and picked up the diaper package and placed it in her cart. In that instant, their eyes met. Caught in the act, Riley looked away; her mother had taught her that looking at strangers was rude. She blushed. In complete silence, the lady smiled at her and continued on her way. The little girl took one last look at the shelves filled with diapers and other baby products. She would have liked to buy them and use them. However, there was one detail that hammered in her head: she was an eleven-year-old girl and able to listen to her body, not a baby. She went back to find the speakers, putting this strange episode behind her and hoping it would not happen again. I am a big girl, she told herself. And big girls don't wear diapers. * The next day, Riley was there again looking at those shelves full of light blue packages of Pampers Baby-dry diapers stacked one on top of the other and one behind the other forming an impregnable wall. The real reason she was there was still a mystery, but she didn't care at that moment. She was itching to buy a pack of diapers and a package of wet wipes. She reassured herself by saying, "I'll take them now. I'm going to get them now. I'll take them now." As soon as he took the first step, he would immediately retract it. Then, the air grew tenser and tenser, and Riley tried harder and harder not to panic. She did this seven times in a row. "You still here too?" asked a soft voice. The little girl turned her head to her left; it was the woman she had seen twenty-four hours earlier, dressed in a slightly wrinkled dark blue overcoat and brand-new light blue pants. Her first thought was: What a strange coincidence. "Uh-huh," Riley replied, nodding. His heart began to beat faster. "I'm glad to know I'm not the only person in this lane," replied the adult in a friendly, cordial tone. "I forgot to take the wipes yesterday." The woman fetched them and then returned to Riley. "You seem nervous, are you all right little girl?" Riley nodded hastily, as well as giving an unbelievable smile. The woman looked behind her, then turned her focus back to the little girl with a questioning face. "Why are you here?" she asked as she lowered herself to her height, eyes as clear green as an expanse of grass on a sunny day. Quickly, she added, "If you don't mind me asking." Riley remained silent. Why was this woman asking her that question? Was she a woman who had ulterior motives? Where were the adults at that moment? She began to breathe nervously. The woman realized she was being impetuous toward her, so she repeated the question in a lighter, less inquisitive voice, "What brought you here, honey?" "I... I-I don't know," Riley stammered, taking a few steps back. "Maybe..." "You're interested in these things," replied the woman thoughtfully. "It's nothing wrong, you know." Her eyes lit up. The woman continued. "It's a curiosity that a lot of kids have, so there's nothing wrong with... going back to being a little baby and using baby things. " "Really?" "Yes," she replied, smiling, "you're not crazy, you're a normal kid. You're unique." Riley's eyes became glazed over and she rubbed them with the sleeve of her jacket. "I want to make you a proposition, so you are free to refuse," the woman began. "I'll buy you everything you need and drive you home. What do you say?" Without thinking, the little girl shook her head. Such a proposal could not be refused. And Riley already had a counter-proposal in mind to make to the mystery woman. She took courage and proposed to her, "I have the money and I want to take it... but the only thing I need... is... to know how it fits." The woman smiled. "Would you like me to put it on before we part?" Riley blushed embarrassed and looked away from her. No. No! This was going too far; her private parts remained private! The woman chuckled amusedly, "Just kidding, silly! Just lie on top of it, lift it up until you feel it over your belly, and attach the tapes. If you're having difficulty, watch a YouTube video." Riley nodded and in a low voice thanked the woman, before leaving her field of vision he ruffled her hair playfully and wished her good luck with everything. Would she see her again someday? She took a package of diapers, one of wet wipes and a lotion of moisturizer and walked to the cashier to pay. The cashier who had served her, a woman in her 60s, complimented her on being a diligent and responsible girl. She could not blush upon hearing those sweet words; she wished they had been true! Once outside the supermarket, she felt over the moon, and the smile on her face was proof of that. Now, it remained for her to go home and turn back the clock; the day had taken a decidedly more exciting direction than the usual monotony. 2 Once she got home, Riley put her backpack down in her corner and pulled out everything she had bought at the supermarket. After that, she took them to her room and slammed them inside the closet, to hide them better she decided to throw some of her clothes on it. This was fine for the time being; Mom and Dad rarely came into her room and rarely went to look inside her closet. He ate the last slice of margherita pizza left inside the oven. It tasted terrible, but she didn't care so much as long as it satiated her a little. When the impromptu lunch was finished, Riley put her plate and glass back in the kitchen sink and rinsed them quickly, then set them to drip in the cabinet above the sink, just as her father had taught her, who, in turn, had taught her mother. She always did her homework in the kitchen. Usually she would have done them in her room in absolute peace, but being home alone and having hidden in those four walls her diapers, she could not afford to fail in her school duties. "Business before pleasure," her parents often reiterated to her. Literature was one of the boring subjects she found interesting, especially when it came to writing a short text trying to take a cue from a story written by a famous author. This time, she had to write a short text where the main character thought about a long series of concerns regarding his future. Riley did not have to reread the text from which that exercise originated; she already had in mind what she had to write and set about doing it. It took her ten minutes, then she went on to do the homework for the other subjects. At five in the afternoon, Riley finished the last exercise in math, the subject he hated most in the world. She closed all the books she had on the table, stowed all the pens and pencils scattered in her pencil case, and put them back in the bookcase that preceded the threshold to enter the kitchen. Finally free! She ran to her room, nearly tripping, and closed the door behind her. She approached the closet, every fiber in her body was in trepidation, and her hands wasted no time in opening the doors and throwing onto the floor the clothes she had used hours earlier to hide her loot. She still couldn't believe it, she had actually taken them and they were in her room, waiting to be used. She took the package, the wipes and the cream; with clumsy movements she laid them on the floor and admired them as if she were looking at a treasure made of gold and precious jewels. "What am I waiting for?" she asked herself and opened the package of diapers. She took one out and opened it. She studied it for a moment. Delicate, soft and very stretchy. Perhaps too stretchy for what she had expected, obviously it was a garment that had to fit on a multitude of different sized babies. She would have no problem wearing it, she reflected, since these diapers were the largest size she had found on that shelf. It would have to fit. She placed the diaper on the floor. Before sitting on it, she pulled down her panties and underwear. She took a damp washcloth and gave it a wipe down there, then applied moisturizer. She sat on it-as the lady at the super market had told her-and pulled the front over her belly. She was succeeding, the diaper fit, everything was running smoothly, and it was too early to sing victory right away. She attached the left and right ribbons, the diaper was attached to her body. Riley let out a long sigh. Was she dreaming? Impossible, she could feel her skin telling her, "Hey Riley, you're wearing a diaper!" She wanted to really answer, but her mouth was unable to move. She was living the dream. She stood up, the diaper remained there firmly in its position. It's perfect! An idea came to her: her panties were the diaper she was wearing. She took off her shoes (which she had forgotten she still had on), then slipped off her pants and kicked them onto the bed. Her panties fell onto the soles of her feet, the final step was near. She removed her feet from both ends, picked up her pants and put them back on. She looked at herself in the mirror. There she was: Riley, a normal eleven-year-old girl. The little girl looked down at her bottom, the flat padding of her diaper suggesting that she was wearing one and not normal underwear. She opted to change them for jeans, they turned out to be a better choice, her bottom had taken on its normal shape. Within minutes, Riley tidied up her room. The package safely inside the closet with the wipes and lotion; the underpants and panties in the dirty laundry basket in the bathroom and the washcloth tossed in the basket, again, in the bathroom. Everything was clean and tidy as if she had never been there at any time of the day. Mom and Dad would never suspect. At that moment, the sound of the lock came straight to her ears, then the creak of the door led her from the stairs. "I'm home!" announced Helen, her mother, in a tired voice. "Riley?" "I'm here, Mom." Helen looked at her daughter at the top of the stairs and a reassuring smile formed on her face. "Are you all right?" Riley nodded, "Everything's fine. You?" "Tired" she replied, hanging up her jacket. "Done all your homework?" "All of them." "Great," her mother commented happily. "Now I'll start making dinner. Pasta tonight!" * Greg returned at seven o'clock in the evening. Like his wife, he was wiped out from the endless hours at the office, each day the load was getting heavier and heavier, and keeping up with the various deadlines was beginning to become untenable. Seeing his wife's muse-like face and his little girl again lifted his spirits. "Good evening!" Greg entered the kitchen and curtsied. Riley and her mother greeted him with excitement and enthusiasm. Especially Mom, who kissed him fleetingly so as not to lose focus on preparing dinner. To her, however, he gave her a big hug. The pasta was delicious. Mom had been good at cooking it, and each forkful of spaghetti was a one-way ticket to food heaven. Riley cleaned the plate twice. "Gee, Riley!" surprised Helen. "You were really hungry!" The little girl nodded, smiling. "I'll join in!" added Greg, then swallowed a rolled forkful of spaghetti. Helen and Riley laughed. Dinner continued smoothly. Greg and Helen talked about their days, one more messy than the other, and Riley sat listening to them trying to follow the river of their words. She imagined a long stream of water heading toward a waterfall. Riley did not understand why her imagination was making her see this. What was her head trying to say? Then she felt the stimulus down there, the first of the day, that said softly to her, "Pee!" Oh no... not now! Riley remained composed and calm, she was good at not showing her emotions and passing for a different emotional state than she really felt. Peeing at the dinner table? In front of her parents unaware that she was wearing a diaper? What if she wet her jeans? No, that's too risky! She could get up and go to the bathroom, however, she would have to pay attention to the loudness of the diaper tapes. Mom and Dad would surely have heard the tear. She had no other choice, so she let go. The warm pee all over her as if she had dived into the pool, in less than a few moments the absorbent layer of the diaper absorbed it all inexorably. She felt only an uncomfortable damp sensation. All in all, she liked it. Mom and Dad continued with their talk, never stopping for a glass of wine. At one point, Helen stopped and sniffed the air. Seeing her, Riley did likewise; there was a strange, intense smell. "But where is this smell coming from?" she asked suddenly as she looked around. Greg also sniffed and looked around. "What kind of stench is that?" Riley imitated their movements and behaviors. Now they catch me... Now they catch me... Now they're going to catch me.... MOM AND DAD ARE GOING TO CATCH ME! Riley got up from her seat and with slow, silent steps approached the kitchen exit. But her mother's voice planted her there just a few steps from the door. It was over. "Riley, would you come here for a second?" In a barely audible voice, the little girl said, "Uh-oh." * Helen was puzzled at the sight of the undergarment her daughter was wearing. She turned her gaze to her husband who, like her, had no idea what was going on. With the chandelier light pointed at her, Riley lay there on the table in the living room with her jeans down. Her swollen and yellowed diaper was partially covered by her pink long-sleeved shirt. The little girl had a sorry expression on her face, but she did nothing to hide it, and she did not feel like crying. She looked in vain for her parents' gaze. Helen lifted the girl's shirt in a slow movement, then felt the diaper. Heavy and definitely at the limit of its absorbent capacity. She brought both hands together to remove the left tape, but stopped when Riley spoke in a submissive voice, "Mom... I have everything... in my room." Helen pulled her hand away from the child's waist. "What, honey?" "It's all in my room." Greg went and returned, and in his hands was the opened package of diapers with only one diaper missing. The two adults realized he hadn't had it long. Helen then grabbed her by the arms and sat her down. He gave her a stern look. "We would like an explanation, young lady," her father spoke in a firm voice. Riley sighed defeatedly. "Yesterday, I went to the supermarket to get a small bottle of water. As I was looking for the checkouts, I came across the shelves of products for small children... I went back there today and got all this." Greg looked at Helen, then she took the floor, "Why did you buy diapers?" Riley did not answer. "Riley, answer your mother," her father urged her. "I wanted to... wear them... I wanted to try them on," her voice was about to break into tears. Before bringing her hands to her face to hide it, she concluded, "I just wanted to wear them." Silence. "Wait here, we'll be right back," his mother said, walking away with Greg in tow. * Sheltered in the garage, Greg watched Helen pacing back and forth, intent on finding a foothold in that unpleasant, constantly falling situation. He, too, was as confused as his consort, but he did not let panic drive him. He pondered for a long time, then asked her, "What are you going to do?" Helen replied tartly, "I don't know Greg!" "It doesn't look like anything scary to me. It's better than seeing her with drugs in her hand." Helen gasped impatiently. "Gregory, for God's sake, what are you saying?" "I'm saying it's nothing scary. It's just ... diapers." "Just diapers?" she exclaimed exhaustedly. "Just diapers..." he replied uncertainly. "But it's not the end of the world, Helen." "You think if I let her wear them, she'll be okay?" "That might be a good idea," Greg replied sympathetically. "Let's see how the situation develops and-" "And?" "And we'll decide later what to do," he concluded. "Now, how about we worry about her dirty diaper?" Helen watched the door and nodded conflictedly. "I'll need some help changing her, I'm pretty rusty, you know." "All right, now let's get back to her, please." * "Wipe," Helen said, and Greg handed it to her. After that she rubbed it around Riley's private regions, who was enjoying the moment. Once thoroughly cleaned, Helen lifted her bottom, removed her soiled diaper and ordered her trusty colleague a clean diaper. Her husband slipped it off the package and started playing with Riley as he had when she was smaller. As the two of them played, and with a decisive move, Helen stole the diaper from her husband's hands, opened it and tucked it under her daughter's bottom. In a commanding voice, she announced, "Cream?" Greg handed it to her. In no time, Helen slathered it on her and closed her diaper. The magical moment ended in that instant of silence. "Now off to bed, young lady! We'll talk about this tomorrow, okay?" her mother told her in a loving voice. "Okay," and the little girl ran toward the stairs. "Mom? Dad?" "Yes, honey?" her father asked. Riley opened her mouth to speak, but then had second thoughts, "Nothing, goodnight." 3 Her parents were already in the kitchen when she came downstairs. From behind the ajar door, Riley heard the vibrating noise of the coffee machine and the sounds Dad made when he sucked milk from his bowl. Neither of them was talking; what had happened last night had shaken them to the point that they could no longer have a normal conversation, Riley surmised. She could not go back up to her room, her mother would come to wake her up and ask questions again about the.... At that moment, Riley remembered the diaper she was wearing. It had been years since she had peed in bed, and now that she was wearing a diaper, her old problem was back. "Yikes," she said as she pulled her pajama pants forward and looked at the bulging diaper. "Riley?" her mother called her from the kitchen. "Honey, is that you?" Riley pushed open the door. "Good morning." "Did you sleep well?" asked her father cozily. Riley nodded and sat down in her usual place. After that, her mother also joined them, holding her cup of freshly brewed coffee. "Are you okay ... down there?" her mother asked curiously, catching sight of the little girl's pants. "Um..." stammered Riley impishly. "Maybe not." "Don't worry," her mother snapped at her in a soothing tone, "later, we'll fix it." "Okay." "Do you want cereal or cookies with a bowl of warm milk?" her father proposed as he stood up. "I'm not... in the mood... in the mood for breakfast, Dad." "Are you sure?" "Yes," replied Riley confidently. "In your opinion, am I crazy?" Both Greg and Helen were horrified by her question. They looked at each other for a moment, without thinking twice Greg reassured her, "No, no, no. You are not crazy, you are perfect just the way you are." Riley's eyes began to glaze over. "Even though ... I want to wear diapers? Even though ... I'm 11 years old?" Greg opened his mouth to answer, but Helen beat him to the timing. In a firm, loving voice she said, "Yes. If that's what you want, we'll let you." "Really?" the little girl asked, wiping away a tear that ran down one eye. Then she looked her mother straight in the eye. "Yes," she reassured her. "But there will be rules." Riley looked at her mother and father interdictedly. "Rules? What kind of rules?" Greg was also puzzled, but said nothing. Her mother Helen resumed speaking. "If you want to wear a diaper, just tell us and we'll put it on. This implies that only Dad and I will be able to change you and, most importantly, check it if you had an "accident." "If you would not like to wear it and put on big girl panties, just tell us and we will accommodate you. This is first rule. All clear?" "Yes," Riley answered truthfully. She had never taken her eyes off her mother throughout the whole talk. "Second rule: the diaper issue stays between us. It will be our secret. You will only wear it when it's just the three of us. Before you ask, you won't wear it at school, the reason you can guess for yourself," Helen explained. "Fair enough," commented the 11-year-old. "Can I wear it when I go out with you?" "Yes," replied Greg confidently. "I remind you that only Mom and I are aware of your 'secret.' Keep that in mind." "Are there any other rules?" asked Riley innocently. "Nothing else comes to mind at the moment," said Greg then asked his consort, "Do you have any other rules in mind?" "I have nothing to add at the moment." "I do have an addition in mind," Riley spoke cautiously. "But it's not a rule, can I make it anyway?" Helen and Greg exchanged a doubtful look, but they both wanted to hear what their little girl had to say. It was Helen who gave her the floor. "I'd like to get some pull-ups," Riley began determinedly, and seeing the doubtful looks from her parents, she had to make a long speech, "They're panties that are also diapers. If I started wearing diapers, I would start peeing or doing number two without me knowing it. With pull-ups I can go to the bathroom as if I were wearing regular panties. "They are easier to put on. You would rip the sides and slip it on like regular panties. They also have a symbol on the front to tell if I need to be changed." "I have two questions," Greg said puzzled. "When would you wear them? Then, how do you know all these things?" "I'll answer the second question: it's all written on their packages. Answering the first, I could put them on alternately with my underwear to stay trained to go to the bathroom at all times," the little girl answered excitedly. "They can also come in handy for going out," commented Helen. "I think we've talked enough, how about we go get ready?" "To go where, Mom?" "We're going shopping, honey," replied her mother, taking her by the hand and walking her out of the kitchen. "Where are you going?" asked Greg curiously. "We're going to get ready," replied Helen playfully. "Someone needs a clean diaper." * Riley was surprised by her mother's skill and care in cleaning her and putting on her new diaper. The night before it seemed like it was one of the first times she had done it; today, however, she was a veteran with a long experience behind her. "Done," her mother told her as she attached the last tape. "Get changed and remember to put on something that will hide the diaper better." The little girl opted for a long dark green sweatshirt and a pair of black jeans. In front of the mirror, even she could not tell if she was wearing a diaper. Great, I'm ready. Thirty minutes later, mother and daughter, hand in hand, entered the supermarket. Helen was struck to see that sincere smile on her daughter's face. She could not remember when was the last time she had seen her smile like that. Finding the pull-ups was as easy as drinking a glass of water. Riley was over the moon in grabbing the package. Seeing the caricatures of cartoon characters on a pink background left her speechless. She found them as gorgeous as the diaper she was wearing. After paying, they returned home. Once they returned, Helen took the opportunity to check her diaper. She took her to herself, pulled down her jeans and felt her well: she had peed, she had peed a lot! She led her to her room, The little girl threw herself on the bed, eager to be changed clean. "Mom, can I put on one of the pull-ups?" asked Riley as her mother opened her diaper. She grabbed a washcloth and set about cleaning her private parts. Not thinking much about it, she replied, "All right, but when you have to go to the bathroom you have to tell us." Having finished cleaning her thoroughly and applying the cream, Helen helped Riley put on her first pull-up. The little girl did, quite literally, jump for joy. "How are they?" asked her mother. "It's a cross between a diaper and underwear. They are so comfortable!" replied the 11-year-old happily. Helen rolled up the soiled diaper, then said to her, "I'm going to make lunch. Remember to go to the bathroom and rememtell us, okay?" "Okay, Mom," she slipped on her jeans. Just before her mother came out of her room, Riley called her. "Thank you," she told her. Helen smiled at her and left. For a moment, Riley felt like the luckiest little girl in the world. 4 The following Monday, as per routine, Riley went to school and came home. The day had given her quite a few surprises: a surprise history test, a math quiz, and pair work in art class. She had done the test and the quiz to the best of her knowledge, all thanks to her method of study that allowed her to defend herself well even in the most reluctant questions. Surely the test went well, she told herself. The art hour, however, put her to the test. She had never had much inclination for artistic and creative subjects-except for writing where she felt she had mastered the real thing-too abstract and poorly understood. Had it not been for Theo to guide her, the blank canvas would have become her definitive work that would have enshrined her in the long line of bad artists. Theo. It was rare that a classmate of hers intruded into her endless stream of thought. It seemed to her that she was discovering his existence for the first time. Like her, he was shy, solitary and unreachable. Those thoughts made her lose her appetite, so she went to her room to put on some more comfortable clothes to stay in, including putting on a pull-up. She grabbed her backpack and immediately set out to do her homework; she planned to spend the afternoon doing whatever she wanted. With the last science exercise completed, the little girl stood up and stretched. The rumbling of her stomach reminded her that she had skipped lunch, she looked at the clock: it was two o'clock in the afternoon. She had better eat something. She put a piece of frozen pizza in the microwave oven, set the temperature and time - 10 minutes - and pressed the "START" button. She waited sitting at the table. The ringing of the phone made its way through all the rooms,m until it reached the kitchen. Riley sprinted to the living room where the phone was located, picked up the handset and in a nervous voice said, "Hello?" "Hey, Riley, it's Theo," said the voice with a bit of insecurity. "Am I disturbing you?" "Hey, Theo," she greeted him, then answered happily, "no bother. Tell me everything." "I just wanted to ask you how you found yourself working with me today," he said cautiously. "I saw you ... angry, I wanted to know how you were." Riley bit his lower lip, and without his noticing a drop of pee ended up in her diaper. Theo was telling the truth, during that hour of class she felt like a complete wimp, a no-good. At one point, just before the end of class, she roared all her frustration at him. She sighed thinking back to those thirteen seconds that seemed interminable, then answered him in a sincere voice, "I'm fine. I've calmed down and..." She paused to sigh again. "I'm sorry I acted that way. It usually doesn't happen to me to-" "Of not being able to do something right?" the companion on the other side added promptly. "I know how that feels." Riley smiled, wondering if Theo could have seen it. No, he couldn't have seen her; who knows where he lives!" she told herself. "So, do you forgive me?" "Even if you didn't apologize to me, I'd still forgive you," Theo said casually. "Would you like to come over and finish the task?" She missed a beat. Had she heard correctly? A classmate of hers asking her to come over? Yes, she had understood correctly. She would have wanted to say yes immediately, but what if Mom and Dad had said no? Riley answered uncertainly, "I have to talk to my parents about it first. If I'm not mistaken, your parents should have their numbers? At least they should have my mom's." Theo muttered something (or so it seemed to Riley). "Yes, my mom told me she has both, but she prefers you to talk to them directly." Riley brought her hand to his temple in disbelief. Of course she was going to talk to them directly about it! He replied, "When they come back I will talk to them about it. Let's stay that way for now." "Alright, I'll talk to you later or possibly tomorrow," he concluded, then said goodbye to her, "Have a great rest of your day. Bye Riley!" "You too, Theo! Bye!" and hung up. At that exact moment, the squeaky, annoying sound of the oven alerted her that her snack was ready. She jumped off the couch, but something stopped her on the spot. What the... The little girl touched the front of her pull-up. It was hot and the front symbol was slightly faded, but it wouldn't be long before it disappeared completely. "I better go pee before I get it all over me," she confuted to herself aloud, as if there was another person with her, and went to the bathroom. * The pizza tasted like cardboard. The tomato and cheese had lost their distinctive flavors; the dough was the only decent thing that managed to convince her to go all the way through it, every last bite. The cold pull-up began to bother her, especially between her legs. Rule one was pretty clear. If you want to wear a diaper, just tell us and we'll put it on. This implies that only Daddy and I will be able to change you and, most importantly, check it if you had an "accident." When she put on the pull-up, Riley had not heeded to the rules they had imposed on her that Saturday morning. She couldn't wait for Mommy (or Daddy) to come home and clean her up and put a clean diaper on her. They would come to know that she had transgressed one of the rules. She made up her mind: she would tell the truth. She thought back to what had happened that night. She brought her legs against his chest and hugged them, their puzzled faces still well in her mind. At that moment she made a promise to herself: No more secrets and no more lies to Mom and Dad. To chase those thoughts away, she went up to the second floor, went to her room to get a book and headed for the bathroom to pee. * Riley was engrossed in reading that she paid no attention to her mother entering the house. In fact, it was her appearance in the kitchen that brought her back to reality. The little girl began to break into a cold sweat. "I didn't know you were reading," Helen exclaimed in surprise. "Did you do all your homework?" Riley nodded a nervous smile. She was not good at masking her emotions, and Helen immediately sensed that something was wrong. She asked her, "Honey, is something wrong?" Riley suddenly got up from her chair with still that smile that Helen found annoying. She hastily replied, "Yes, yes, yes, Mom! Everything is fine! I'm just glad you're back!" Helen gave her a guarded look. "Why are you acting like this? It's not like you." True, Riley couldn't blame her; she couldn't explain that strange behavior. She gave a tense giggle, then calmed herself by taking three deep breaths. There, she was about to tell her, "Mom, do you remember the rules you gave me for diapers?" Her mother nodded and crossed her arms. He looked her straight in the eye, from her face she was not at all pleased. She asked in a haughty tone, "Are you wearing one now and need to be changed?" "I'm wearing a pull-up," the sorry little girl hastened to say. "Sorry, I couldn't resist." Helen looked up at the ceiling. "I should have expected you to wear one in our absence. By the way, again!" Riley looked down guiltily, turning her toes back over each other. Helen continued brooding, but on the verge of scolding her. "I appreciate you telling me, Riley. However, your father and I gave you rules for a reason. These aren't toys; they can harm your health if misused. Being in one of those things for a long time could give you a skin rash. Do you understand?" She turned her gaze to her and nodded. "Now we're going to go up and give you a good cleaning," he told her. "Until I talk it over with your father, you're going to wear big girl panties. Diapers and pull-ups are off-limits!" "All right," Riley said, and her mother escorted her to the bathroom. * "Today I got a call from Theo, a classmate of mine," Riley began as her mother removed her dirty pull-up. "We have an art assignment we have to finish. He asked if I would be free to go to his house tomorrow. Do I have your permission to go?" Helen rubbed her nether regions well and then replied, "We'll talk about it tonight over dinner with your father, okay?" "Okay," replied Riley meekly and let her mother finish cleaning her. "No diaper? Not even for the night?" Helen shot her the look. Riley sighed in disappointment. "Understood." "Would you tell me what you understood?" her mother questioned her in a stern voice. "I understood that not following the rules has consequences." "So?" "You will not put me in a diaper now or before going to bed." "What will you do before you go to bed?" "I will go to the bathroom and pee like a big girl." "I guess you've learned your lesson, at least for now," Helen concluded contentedly. 5 Riley remained silent for most of dinner. The talk she had with her mother in the bathroom monopolized her thoughts; she began to think that they would confiscate her diapers and throw them into oblivion. He found rule one unfair, why could only her mother and father get their hands on her diaper, despite the fact that she had managed to put on a diaper by herself without anyone's help? Adults are weird!" she thought. "You're quiet today," her father began curiously, "did something happen?" Riley looked up from her empty plate and looked at her mother. With her gaze, she was telling her to tell her father what she had done. "Yes, something happened," the little girl replied indifferently. "In fact, two things happened." "Which one do you want to start with?" interjected Helen, feigning curiosity. "A classmate of mine called me today," Riley began a tad excitedly, "Theo Bennett. We have to finish our pair work for Professor Towers, he asked if I could go to his house tomorrow to finish the project and do homework together." "I don't see why not," Greg drank a glass of wine. Then he turned to his consort, "Did you say yes too?" Helen smiled at him. "Yes. Her friend lives nearby and His parents are willing to have her as a guest for lunch. So of problems we don't have any, is it okay for you to pick her up in the evening? That way I have time to take care of some chores around the house." Greg nodded and smiled at his daughter. He commented happily, "I didn't think you had a friend!" "Yeah," Riley laughed nervously. He didn't really consider Theo a friend; he was more of an acquaintance, almost a stranger. Who knows why his father had already labeled him as his friend? "What about the other thing?" asked Greg then casually. Riley's face darkened for a moment; she felt the conversation would take a turn for the worse. She sensed her mother's stern look. Okay Riley, you can do it. It's like an interrogation: beginning, explanation, conclusion. "Here..." the little girl spoke softly. "Today I... wore a pull-up on the sly." A contented smile took shape on Helen's face, glad to hear Riley admit her mistake and direct it to her better half. Greg sighed dejectedly. "So, you're telling us you wore a diaper in our absence?" "Pull-up, Greg," Helen corrected him. Greg quickly repeated his question, but corrected. "Yes, Daddy," Riley replied sadly. "That's the first thing I did when I came home. Then Mom came and I told her everything. I'm sorry." "Did you pee there?" asked her father tensely. Helen intervened, "From what I understood, yes and no. She had peed some before I came back, then she peed again just before I changed her and cleaned her up. So, she did it twice." Riley blushed full of embarrassment. Was that a detail to point out? "Is she wearing another one now?" asked Greg to his wife, forgetting his daughter's presence. "Big girl's panties," Helen replied. "I have a punishment in mind to give her for transgressing the rule." "Shall we talk about it now? In front of her?" "No," Helen replied, remembering that Riley was there with them. "There's something I'd like to point out to both of you." She paused. As long as she had all eyes on her, Helen continued with her speech, "This is especially about you, Riley. Today while I was changing you, I noticed that you hadn't given yourself a good scrubbing down there. Tell me out of curiosity, did you go to the bathroom once today?" "Yes, I went," replied Riley downcast. "After I noticed that I had slightly wet my pull-up." "You gave yourself a scrub, didn't you?" Her mother asked. Riley shook her head. "You know that after you pee you have to clean yourself up down there," her mother scolded her. "That's why I've decided that every time you come out of the bathroom, you have to come to me so I can take a look at you. We'll start tonight." Riley did not protest. Her mother was right; she could do nothing but humor her. "All right." A brief silence followed, and both Greg and Helen got up with their dishes in hand to go put them back in the dishwasher. Riley sat there in her seat, her fear of no more diapers making her eyes glaze over. "Will you take them away from me forever?" asked Riley fearfully. Both her parents approached her. "No," her mother consoled her. "We don't want to take away your diapers, if you want to take them, we won't object. We are doing this to teach you, to teach you to be more responsible." Riley pulled up her nose. "Why can't I wear them by myself?" "Because we want to take care of you," her mother promptly replied. "As well as making sure you get cleaned properly." "Thank you," said Riley and hugged her mother, then hugged her father as well. "We are here, honey," her father told her, then her daughter broke the hug. Riley took her plate and put it in the dishwasher, next to her parents' plates. She helped them clear the table and then they went to the living room to watch a movie. * "Am I disturbing you?" asked Helen in a low voice. She was in the doorway to her bedroom. "No, tell me," replied Riley and closed the book he was reading. "Come in." "I've come to take you to the bathroom," she announced, holding out her hand to her daughter. "Even if you don't run away, I want to make sure you go to the bathroom before you go to sleep." Riley grasped her hand and let herself be carried away. She did not find this new custom fair; she was a big girl, not a little girl. "Mom! I'm 11, I know when I have to go to the bathroom!" whined Riley. "I know," laughed her mother. "But sometimes, moms want to make sure their kids go to the bathroom before they go to sleep." Entering the bathroom, without letting go, Helen positioned Riley in front of the toilet. The little girl felt uncomfortable; her mother's presence put her under great stress. She wanted to tell her, but nothing would change her mind about going out and giving her a moment of privacy. Her mother knelt down and proceeded to gently lower her pants, Riley could not help but blush. After that, she told her softly, "What are you waiting for? Sit down and try it." The little girl obeyed resignedly, as well as red in the face like a tomato. The toilet was cold, but her mother's reassuring gaze caught her attention. She smiled at her and let go. "All done?" she asked her as soon as the tapping turned to silence and the little girl nodded confidently. "Good, now on your feet." Riley stood up, then her mother tore off three pieces of toilet paper. With gentle forward motions she cleaned it under there. She repeated those gestures five times, subsequently flushing the paper down the toilet. Riley recognized the pattern; she used to do this when she was younger. Same care and gentleness, she seemed to have gone back in time. "That's how you should wipe," she concluded in a calm, teacher's voice. "Always forward, never backwards. Minimum five times, if you want to be sure give it three more passes. All clear?" "All clear," she answered truthfully, lifting her underpants and underwear in one go. "Thank you, Mommy." "You're welcome. I'm going to bed," announced her mother as she returned to her feet. "Flush and brush your teeth. Oh, before I forget, tomorrow when you come back, I'll take a look at you. Good night, honey." "Good night, Mommy," he told her before squeezing the flush lever. * "What did you have in mind?" asked Greg already under the covers. "I don't know yet," replied Helen doubtfully. "We could use diapers as a reward when she behaves." "Helen," he spoke exasperatedly, "she is a good girl. She studies and behaves well." "A good girl sneaks a pack of diapers, puts one on and pees in front of her parents?" pointed out Helen annoyed. "She didn't even follow the rules we gave her on Saturday!" "I don't understand why you have to punish her." "Greg, she sneaked a diaper!" reminded Helen, her voice frustrated. "When did we put her in a diaper?" began Greg meditatively. "Monday through Friday, only in the evening and at night. Saturday and Sunday she could wear it all day. You know what I mean?" Helen furrowed her brow. "No." "Riley doesn't enjoy them enough. Only two days. No wonder she wants to sneak them on," Greg enlightened her. "And you want to punish her even though she told you the truth." "We can't help it, our jobs keep us away from her," Helen replied. "She won't bring them this weekend, that's decided." "Then you don't understand," blurted Greg. "When she brings it, she's happy. Even with the pull-ups, she's happy. Isn't that clear to you?" "It's quite clear to me," Helen replied curtly. "I want to teach her that choices have consequences. When we had caught her with that dirty diaper, we did nothing. "I don't want Riley to get into this bad habit of doing what she wants on the sly." Greg got up and went to sit beside his wife and kissed her left cheek. "She would never do that," he said in a sultry voice. "You know the thing she hates most is to hurt us. That's why she told you the truth today." A tear streaked down her face. "Do you think she'll take it badly if I tell her she can't wear diapers this weekend?" "Will she take it badly? Yes, definitely." "It's decided, this is her punishment." "You know I'm against it right?" "Yes, but you'll have to humor me this time," Helen concluded and began to snog him. 6 Theo no longer had the strength to hold his head up to pay attention to the lesson of Mrs. Daniels, the literature teacher. He had the crazy idea of resting his head on his desk, his nose and forehead attached closely to the notebook paper. He did not care if the middle-aged woman saw him and scolded him. Riley, unlike her desk mate, could keep up with her lengthy explanations. Eyes following her every movement and her right hand writing on the notepad every word that came from her thick lips. Mrs. Daniels walked over to the blackboard and began to draw a diagram that looked like an upside-down tree. At the top and middle she wrote "How to write a horror story" and drew three arrows far apart. "How do you keep from falling asleep?" asked Theo in a low voice at one point. "I stay awake and listen," she answered quietly. Theo changed position. He stretched out his arms on the bench and rested his chin on the bench. She said in a half-asleep voice, "I can't wait for it to be over." She wanted it too, damn right she did! Riley felt she was at the end of her rope. Listening and writing at the same time took a large chunk of her energy, which, after four hours of class, she had none left. To avoid falling behind, the 11-year-old began writing as fast as she could; readability would suffer greatly. Half an hour later, the last bell of the day rang. Mrs. Daniels said she would explain the third arrow the next day, but the buzz of her students' voices prevented her words from reaching their ears. Getting angry was useless now. She grabbed her smartphone and took a picture of the blackboard, then began to put all her things in her backpack. For her, too, the day had turned to an end. "Mrs. Daniels?" a female voice called to her that she recognized. "Yes, Riley?" "You dropped this," she said and handed her dirty, weather-worn blue case. "I thought something was missing," she exclaimed in surprise as she grabbed the object. Most likely it had fallen from the desk during the general marasmus. She thanked her in a kind voice, then asked, "Do you have any doubts about today's class?" "Um..." she hinted uncertainly as she flipped through her notepad. "I actually would have one." Mrs. Daniels looked at her watch. It was 1:20 in the afternoon. She had to go to lunch with her colleagues and was, punctually, late. "You will bring it to me tomorrow, I really have to run now. Study mind you," she told her mortified and hurried out. "Of course she has to run," the little girl commented irritably and set off to join her friend downstairs. * "So," Theo began thoughtfully, "what do you think about . um... geography?" Riley thought about it before giving her answer. She loved geography. Finding out the customs, the lifestyle of the inhabitants, the strengths of the economy, and the brief history of a state in the world excited her so much. Unfortunately, this subject fell into the "I hate this subject because of the teacher" group. "Nice for goodness sake," replied Riley holding back an edge of anger, "but Mr. Johnson is making me hate it." "Then it's a common thought," Theo said, then asked her another question. "Let's get off the subject of school shall we? What do you do in your spare time?" I sneak around and use diapers! Ha ha ha! If I answered him like that, he would think I was crazy. Ha ha ha ha! Riley held back a laugh at that thought, although there was nothing funny about it. Theo looked at her puzzled. "Never mind," Riley hastened to say, "I read and write. Do you?" "I read too!" gave a toothy grin Theo, nearly baring her way. "What kind of books do you read?" Riley hinted with a smile. If she had had a diaper on, she would have peed from excitement. But at that moment she didn't have one, so she had to restrain herself as any big girl would. She cleared her throat, then answered him, "I mainly read fantasy books, occasionally I read normal books." "Normal books?" "Books that are not in the fantasy or science fiction genre," she explained to him. "Mom is convinced that I like them a lot, so she gets them for me." "For example?" asked Theo curiously. He seemed to know the genres in question. "The last ones she got me are about friendship, simple and mundane and without any elements that manage to stand out from other books dealing with the same topics," Riley accentuated her feeling of annoyance toward the end. "Sometimes I wonder why my mother gets me such books, even though I don't like them." "Do you remember the names by any chance?" asked Theo without losing interest. "I ask because I only read those kinds of books." "Books about friendship?" "No, children's fiction books," Theo pointed out. "The fantasy genre doesn't appeal to me much." "Oh," said Riley slightly disappointed. "Anyway, the names of those books are When We Were Together and Ashes. I could have done without reading them." Theo retorted offended, "You can't say Ashes sucks! It's the only one that manages to touch chords that other books in the same genre can't!" "For example?" questioned Riley in a defiant tone. "The whole story revolves around the so-called 'invisible string theory,' " Theo began to explain, "according to which a person is nothing more than the center of an infinite set of strings that connect him to other centers-which are other people. I point out right away that this does not exist in reality, but still, the protagonist - Paul - becomes the epicenter of the pain of every single character he interacts with. "This is where the main themes of the story surface: the desire to connect to others and the outside hand that helps those who are suffering. Paul is a loner, whether he likes it or not he needs to be around people, so he joins the group of losers ignored by everyone and constantly targeted by bullies. "As he spends his time with them he realizes that he too has his own limitations and difficulties to overcome. So he decides to help them overcome their fears and difficulties, they also do the same for him. When Richard and Izzy die in the car accident, Paul begins to wonder if all this connecting with each other is really worth it, so he becomes the spark that destroys all the strings that bind to him. "Needless to say, this is his reaction to their death and that talking to someone about it kept him from destroying the last, most important bonds he still had: his new friends and his family. The ending in which he and his friends throw their ashes at the lake where they first met is the symbol-and the title-of the play." Riley stood in silence surprised to have heard an explanation that only she could have brought up if she had discussed it with another person who was not interested in books. Theo was a reader like her; his attention to detail was identical to hers. It was true!" she told herself. It had not happened in her head! It had happened for real! "Wow!" was the only thing she managed to say. Then Theo stopped in front of an empty driveway that led to a two-story white house. "Here we are. This is my house, welcome!" In that instant, Riley realized that she had removed from her mind the fact that she and Theo were walking to his house. Their conversations had overridden their perceptions of reality, at least hers since Theo was in charge of taking her to his house. They had passed by her house and she had not even noticed! She felt lost for a moment. Mom was right, he lived not very far from her house and the other dwellings were very reminiscent of hers. Getting lost was impossible; she would find her way back in no time. The kids approached the front door. Theo rang the doorbell and saw Riley looking around, but it did not take her long to realize that it was the same porch she had at home. They were greeted by her father, Hank Bennett. An all-American man, broad-shouldered and fully fit, he wore a tank top and long pants. Both the 11-year-olds were speechless to see him in such attire in the middle of winter. "Hey, guys!" Hank greeted them, then turned to the little guest. "You must be Riley, very nice to meet you!" "Nice to meet you too, Mr. Bennet," replied the little girl politely, then proceeded to remove her jacket. "Call me Hank," the man quickly put in an amused manner. "I may be an adult, but I'm not that adult, you know? I still feel like a 20-year-old kid!" Both Theo and Riley burst into thunderous laughter. "Take off your shoes and go wash your hands, lunch is ready," announced Hank and then hurriedly headed for the kitchen. In the bathroom, Riley was the first to wash her hands. Theo suggested that she go first because he had been told that, and I quote, males must know how to behave well with females, as they are the fairer sex, so they had to go first. Hearing this, Riley had to hold back laughter. "Really?" was his response. Theo replied gallantly, "Yes, milady. You ladies are viewed differently than we gentlemen. Therefore, we ask you not to express criticism of our manner." This time she could not hold them back and burst out laughing for the second time; he had been in her house for just over ten minutes and was already fighting not to pee her pants from the laughs. 7 Mr. Bennett had cooked excellent steaks: flavorful, slightly spicy and cooked to the right temperature. Riley filled and cleaned her plate three times; as luck would have it, he had cooked about ten small and medium-sized steaks. Theo was the one who ate the least out of all of them; he justified himself by saying that he did not have much of an appetite. Lunch finished, the two friends helped Mr. Bennet clear the table, after which he left them on his way to his office. Theo explained to Riley that his father worked from home on certain days of the week, and today was one of those days. It would have been nice if her parents had that chance too, the little girl thought to herself. Three o'clock in the afternoon. The two eleven-year-olds were already at work on their couple's project in the kitchen, the only space in the house large enough for them to work on. The week before, Mrs. Towers assigned their class a job to do in pairs: draw a city where the real stars were the buildings. No streets, just buildings and the sky. She would grade all the work and give both components the same grade. She left the barbaric task of creating the pairs to the students, who, in addition to generating chaos, formed balanced pairs. Riley and Theo balanced each other well. She, an excellent art history student and bad artist, and he, a good art history student and very talented artist. Theo came up with a definite idea of how to make the city, the object on which their delivery was based. Four skyscrapers arranged in the shape of a trapezoid, the two forming the minor base in the foreground and the other two - making up the major base - following and well away from the sides of the sheet; surrounded by other buildings with windows colored in colors other than yellow, intended to color all the windows in the trapezoid. Riley, art denier that she was, approved of the idea, but on the condition that they make an informed choice of colors. And there they were, passing the colors around and coloring the multitudes of white squares that remained. Yellow windows (the first ones the duo colored), reds, oranges, pinks, greens, blues, magentas, purples and many other colors caught the attention of anyone who looked at them. The sky was still white with gray insignia of the Moon and the clouds passing in the midst of those black towers, they told themselves that would be the last part they would color. They had set a list for themselves: draw the buildings and skyscrapers with windows; color the windows; draw the clouds; and finally, color them together with the sky. Compared to the time in the classroom, Riley was more relaxed and more confident in coloring the white spaces. Moreover, the silence that enveloped the kitchen room kept her glued to her task. From time to time, she cast glances at her friend to make sure he was doing his part. It wasn't necessary; Theo was devoting his heart and soul to coloring buildings and windows and, every few seconds, supervising their work. It's definitely coming along nicely. Theo and I are not a bad team after all. An hour later, Theo put down the purple marker and gave a tired sigh. Then he asked his friend, "How many windows do we have left?" Riley finished coloring the last window with red and announced it contentedly in a very high tone of voice, after realizing this she apologized. Theo raised his arms to the ceiling in victory. Exhausted, he said, "We are almost at the end." At that point, Riley got up from her seat. "Where's the bathroom, Theo?" "Up, turn left and first door to the left," he answered her in the same voice. "While you go to the bathroom, I'm going to stop and recover too. I'm beat!" Riley walked out of the kitchen and headed for the stairs. He went up to the second floor and turned to the left, as Theo had told him moments earlier, and looked for the bathroom door with his eyes. There it was! It was a plain white door; she lowered the handle and stepped inside. The bathroom furniture was all light blue, like the diaper packaging she had at home, while the walls were a strange white. He observed it closely; it was a white with light blue undertones. So the dominant color of the bathroom was light blue, she told herself and walked to the toilet that was at the end of the room. In front of the toilet, a dark sky-blue dresser stood toward the ceiling, it looked as if it might touch it, but the thin deep black space gave the 11-year-old confirmation that the cabinet was not in contact with the ceiling. Beautiful, she thought as he squared it from top to bottom. She counted six in total. She looked at it again for the second time. The last drawer was open, inside it a package of diapers was illuminated by the light coming from the window. She recognized them; they were Pampers Baby-Dry overnight diapers. Overnight diapers -- wait a minute, does Theo pee in bed? Riley ignored that question and ignored the contents of that drawer. She pulled down her pants and... gasped in disbelief. Her panties were slightly wet, the smell of pee plugged her nose. Oh, come on! Wasting no more time, she pulled them down and sat on the toilet. Theo's diapers and her panties' smell became her fixed thoughts for that minute sitting to relieve herself. It couldn't be true. * In forty minutes, the work was finished and all imperfections removed. Riley and Theo were satisfied, especially him since it had been his idea. "What grade do you think we'll get?" asked Theo of her. "I don't know... maybe an A," Riley replied slightly nervously. "I doubt we'll get a bad grade!" Theo smiled at her, then took the drawing and put it inside the clear envelope he had brought it home with the week before, then put it inside his backpack, being careful not to crumple it. After that, he told her happily, "Mrs. Towers will be impressed with our work." "Mmh-mmh," Riley quipped casually, thinking about the wet underwear against her skin. Mom would surely take her back. "Would you like to see my room?" proposed Theo to her. "I'd like to show you my bookcase." "All right," Riley answered him, smiling. She felt the need to distract herself from everything and turn off her brain. On the stairs, Theo said, "I'm going to the bathroom and then I'll join you. My room is the third door on the right." Suddenly, Riley stopped on the last step terrified. Now? Right now you have to go to the bathroom, Theo? Then in the same bathroom where your diapers are in full view? Oh... maybe I'd better tell him. "Wait a moment, Theo," she hesitated in a serious tone. "There's something I have to tell you." "Can't you wait a few minutes?" the friend implored her. "I'll come in and out." No, I can't wait! In fact, I don't want to wait! "Theo, I saw them!" admitted Riley apologetically. "I went in and saw the open drawer." Theo's face darkened. Riley recognized that expression, even that state of mind. She felt guilty, the same guilt she had when her parents caught her with a diaper on. "So... now you know about my little secret." Riley nodded. "I won't tell anyone, I promise." "I know you won't," Theo told her like it was nothing, then smiled. Silence. "I know you have a lot of questions for me, but I'm going to go to the bathroom first and then we'll talk about it," Theo said as he headed for the bathroom in small steps. Before taking his leave, he reminded her, "Third door on the right!" * Boring. Boring. Super boring! Boring. My goodness, pure boredom! Boring. Riley was standing in front of Theo's bookcase in her room. She was studying the various books he had and, reluctantly, could not find one that would pique her interest. She began to wonder if Theo took those stories seriously. From the titles alone, which were trite and not at all profound - except for "Ashes," which reevaluated her - she could already imagine the other stories. "Gee, Theo," she said boredly. "Besides Ashes, you don't have any exciting books." "I expected this answer from you," he said as he entered his room. Riley jumped in fear. Had she spoken too loudly again? After that, she sat on her bed and watched Theo take two random books from the bookshelf. There was something about him that did not convince her, her eyes studied his butt. Why is his butt so... big? The friend made a leap to grab a book, failed. So he made another, this time succeeding. Twice, his ears picked up rough sounds reminiscent of typical paper noises. At that point, Riley understood: Theo was wearing the night diaper he had seen in the bathroom. What had he put it on for? "Here," Theo told her, handing her two of his books. Ashes and When We Were Together, the two books they had talked about before entering the house. He added hopefully, "Reread them and then tell me what you think." Riley raised her right eyebrow, not understanding this last sentence. "If you want to try to change my mind, you're way off base. Besides, I already have these two at home." Theo resumed them mortified. "I had forgotten we talked about them, but read them again anyway." "Why?" Theo put them on his desk. "Your idea can change you know?" The friend wasted no time in thinking it over. So, she replied doubtfully, "Okay." After that, Theo sat beside Riley on the bed, keeping his distance to respect her "boundaries." He had never stopped smiling. "Whatever questions you have in mind, ask me," his friend prodded her. "Why are you wearing a diaper?" Embarrassed Theo looked down, but pretended not to. How had she guessed he was wearing one? He replied surprised, "I wanted to put it on." "But aren't you supposed to put it on before you go to bed?" "Yes, but sometimes I put it on long before I go to bed," Theo explained, scratching the back of his head. "My parents let me, but as long as I take it off, do what I have to do, and then put it back on. They check on me a lot to make sure I'm following the rules." Riley nodded. Like at home, her parents had given her rules, albeit different ones, and they wanted to make sure she stayed safe. But to Theo, diapers were like regular underwear-that was the subtle difference that made them different. She would have liked to tell him that she wore diapers too, but after what happened recently and her promise, she let that desire disappear from her mind. "Every once in a while... you think you want to... try to... you know," Riley stammered, but she did not understand why. Theo answered naturally; he was just at ease. "Yes, every now and then. Then it comes back to me that I do it in my sleep and the urge goes away. Also because my mom shudders when she has to take it off me. She hates to get her hands on something messy like my diaper after a good night's sleep." "I understand," replied Riley sadly. "It can't be easy for any of you." "Mom and Dad keep trying new methods to get me to stop," Theo admitted bitterly, as if it were an impossible problem to solve. "As I told you, it's my mother who puts it on and takes it off. Occasionally my father does it, but he is not good at cleaning down there. Even though he is a male like me, sometimes it hurts me. That's why I prefer my mother." Riley wanted to tell him, she didn't want to make him feel lonely. That's what she had sensed in his voice. Also mixed in were innocence and regret for being that way. No one has to know, Riley. Just me, Mom and Dad! The three of us! Silence. Riley couldn't resist a minute longer. "Theo, I have a secret too," she began cautiously and truthfully. "I wear diapers, too." "Bedwetting is a common thing among us eight-to-thirteen-year-olds," Theo revealed for the purpose of curiosity. "You don't understand, I wear them all the time," Riley sputtered. "Or rather, only on weekends do I wear them. Morning, afternoon, evening and night. I don't have any medical problems, I just like them. I like their drawings, I like peeing on them and feeling them all around me. And, most of all, the attention my parents give me in taking care of me." Theo remained silent, having no idea what to say. He wanted her to be happy, she wanted him to be happy too, so he hugged her tightly. "Your secret is safe with me, Riley," he told her in a low voice. Riley was speechless, the hug and his words warmed her heart. She was not dreaming, the warmth of her friend made her feel good, safe. She told him in a soft voice, "Yours is with me too, forever." 8 The rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Riley and Theo managed to do all the homework they had and spent the last half hour up in his room talking about the thing that had led them to become best friends: diapers. They stretched out on the floor, wanting to play out a scene from a book they had read where two characters - a boy and a girl - were talking about their problems lying on the floor next to each other. To feel more comfortable, Theo slipped off his pants let the world admire his Pampers Baby-Dry for the night. There was no shortage of shenanigans from his friend where she urged him to wet himself to which he laughed while maintaining full control of his bladder. "Mom picked me up on her shoulder," Riley recounted gesturing toward the ceiling, "we moved to the hall and she laid me down there like I was a baby. Then she tried to take my diaper off, stopped when I told her I had more in my room." "What did she do then?" asked Theo, brushing his diaper. "She went to the garage to talk to my father. They came back together and changed it for me," she replied. "I couldn't believe it: mom and dad changing my diaper at age 11! The next day we discussed this, they set rules for me; I went to the supermarket with my mother and she bought me pull-ups for children who have to learn to use the toilet. They may be small, but boy are they very stretchy!" Theo listened fascinated, at one point asking, "How are the pull-ups?" Riley giggled happily. "Beautiful, it's like you're wearing underwear and a diaper at the same time!" Their conversation went on until six o'clock, the time when Greg, Riley's father, came to pick her up. She said goodbye to her friend and her father, then they walked to the car. When she returned, her mother Helen accompanied her to the bathroom to give her the pre-announced checkup. She pulled down her pants and looked down at her daughter's smelly and still wet panties. "What happened?" he questioned her. Riley explained everything to her, in full detail, the moment she discovered her friend's night diapers and also about the two drops of pee that fell into both her underwear. She blushed with shame. "Next time, sit and watch, don't stand and pee your pants," she admonished her, removing her soiled underwear, then helped her clean herself. At dinner, Riley monopolized the conversation. It was one of the few times the little girl talked so much she almost forgot about the plate of spaghetti on her plate. Her parents listened without ever interrupting her, surprised to find that her best friend - so their little daughter had twice declared - was peeing the bed. Having finished the meal and cleared the table, everyone went to their respective rooms, or almost since Helen forced Riley to follow her to the bathroom for the second time all day. The 11-year-old repeated the same instructions her mother had given her the day before with some uncertainty, did a fair amount of work that her mother completed. After that she gave her the report, "You need to pay more attention, Riley! You cleaned yourself up like you were late for something!" The little girl nodded and yawned; she couldn't take it anymore already. She brushed her teeth and went to her room, she definitely wanted to end this heavy day with a good night's sleep. She threw herself on her bed, at that moment someone knocked. "Come in!" It was her mother, she wanted to talk. He crossed the door and went to sit on one side of his bed. She admitted in a feeble voice, "I need to tell you something." "What is it, Mom?" asked the little girl as she sat down. "Your father and I have discussed it and decided on your punishment: for the rest of the week, you will not wear diapers. Starting next Monday, you can wear them, provided-" "As long as you or Dad are there to put them on me," Riley concluded in a saccharine voice, the tone her mother hated most of all. "I know Mom, I've learned my lesson." Helen did not get angry at her tone of voice; she preferred to let it go and go to bed. Like her daughter, she too wanted to sleep. She wished her a good night and headed to her room. * The diaper-free weekend arrived and passed in a second. Riley spent those forty-eight hours with her parents tidying up the house, that is, tidying up the attic. None of them would have expected that tidying it up would take two days, evenings included. It was Helen who had suggested this activity; staying still, lazing on the couch in the living room waiting to do something stimulating was bringing her a nervous breakdown. Greg, too, was trying not to sit idle; he took to reading a computer book in the kitchen, next to Riley who was studying the ticking of the clock in a bored manner. The third floor had been labeled "the oblivion," the place where everything that had ceased to have a definite use ends up. It was his parents who had given him that name, following an argument they had had that ended in a rather ambiguous way: suddenly, they forgot what they were arguing about. The entire room was chock-full of furniture and boxes with no writing to identify their contents. "Why did they have all that furniture?" wondered Riley, knowing that that question would not pull her away from that barbaric task. They set a goal for themselves: take everything downstairs. Helen and Greg would take care of the furniture, while Riley would take care of the boxes. All three lost track of time; they had started at 1 p.m. and stopped at 9 p.m. Her parents sprawled on the couch, surrounded by the twelve pieces of furniture they brought down several hours earlier. Riley took advantage of this and poked around the partially empty room, opened certain boxes and found old clothes and thirty-year-old china sets. What a bore! She passed between two tall pieces of furniture, perhaps two closets, and came across a long chest of drawers. Six rectangular-shaped drawers divided into two columns, it looked familiar. Then she realized what it was: it was the piece of furniture her parents used as a base for her changing table when she was an infant. I want this one in my room! I'm rehiring you indefinitely! The next morning, Riley proposed to her parents, who were zombies trying to return to the world of the living, but with little result. "Would you like to what?" her mother asked, yawning. "I found the old cabinet you used to use as a changing table," said the excited little girl. "It's big enough for me to lay on it, so changing me would no longer be an endless search." "Why ... are we taking so long to change you?" asked Greg, then took a sip of water. Riley gave him an obvious look. "Dad, do I need to remind you that for you lost my diapers by leaving me lying on the bed with everything in view?" She blushed on that last part. Greg yawned, but preferred not to answer. "Having a dedicated diaper corner would be nice," Helen intervened. "I already have the arrangement in mind for everything." Greg blinked three times. "So, should we move that to your room?" His tone was puzzled. "Yes," the little girl answered decisively, then put her hands together. "Please?" Greg sighed conflictedly, then smiled at his daughter. Through it all, Helen could not help but laugh. * In the early afternoon, a truck parked in front of their house. They were the workers from the secondhand furniture store to which Greg sold three cabinets and six drawers. Ten minutes of phone calls, emails with pictures of each piece of furniture attached, and a thousand dollars earned. He was the happiest person since his daughter. They loaded the furniture, nodded, to say goodbye and thank him for choosing their store, to Greg and left without giving a glance to either Helen or Riley who had been present every moment of their brief stay. "Rude," Riley said promptly, until she was sure they had left their field of vision. And Helen agreed with her with a complicit smile. Then she added, "You'll meet some rude ones too, always behave yourself and you won't end up like them." "Become rough, fat men?" the 11-year-old asked incredulously. "But I'm a girl!" Greg burst out laughing. "There are rough women, too, honey," Helen told her with amusement. They spent the better part of Sunday afternoon moving furniture and organizing Riley's room. The little girl had the opportunity to place the furniture as she wanted. Her parents enjoyed following the directions. The cabinet - changing table - they placed behind the door. The closet next door, the bed and the desk remained in place. With this thinking work completed, Greg went out to run an errand. Riley was happy; her room had become even more beautiful. The latest arrival (or return?) was looking good, two of the six drawers had already been filled. The first with diapers and pull-ups, the second with underwear, lotion and wipes. It was not yet complete, missing the mat that made it a proper changing table. At six o'clock in the afternoon, Greg returned with something that made Riley happy beyond measure: the mat! All three of them went to put it in its place, on which occasion Riley asked her parents to try it out. Her father took her on his shoulder and laid her down as if he was, for real, about to put a diaper on her. It fit perfectly, was comfortable, and she could almost take a nap in it. "It's perfect!" exclaimed Riley. Her father put her down and hugged him along with her mother. "Thanks, guys!"

Chapter 1: The Morning That Changed Everything Kris woke up in the middle of the night. He felt the need to use the bathroom, which was a good thing for him. He actually woke up this time! Kris hated the fact that he was a bedwetter. He doesn't know when or how it started; he only knows that every morning, he wakes up to a wet bed. So, for him, waking up in the middle of the night is a miracle. He quietly got out from under his covers and started climbing down the ladder of his bunk bed, which he and his older brother, Kyle, shared. Shockingly, he managed not to wake his brother this time. Nearly every night, if Kris tries to get out of bed to get cleaned up, his brother wakes up, confirms that Kris peed himself, then falls back to sleep annoyed at the interruption. That in of itself wouldn't be too bad. If only Kyle would leave it at that. But no, Kyle goes out of his way whenever this happens to ensure Mom and Dad knew that Kris had an accident. So, to get away this time felt amazing, even if there wasn't an accident. He wouldn't have to confront his brother about it. Kris snuck out of the shared bedroom, past the girl's room across the hall, and went down the stairs to the bathroom, sitting at the bottom on the right. He did it! He made it to the potty in the middle of the night! Good thing, too, because he had to poop as well. Which was probably the reason he woke up this time. He hardly ever needed to do that so late in the evening. Proud that he managed to make it in time, Kris snuck his way back upstairs and into his bed, all without waking up anyone. He felt so proud of himself, he knew that tomorrow was going to be a good day. He would wake up to a clean bed in the morning, and hangout with his friends at Church in the afternoon. Kris loved that it was a Sunday. He knew his Mom would make a delicious breakfast for them all to enjoy. He wasn't a huge fan of going to Church every Sunday. It always felt boring to him. Playing with his friends before and after service started was always a blast, but sitting through the sermon felt like a chore. He woke up feeling excited to take on the day. Only, something didn't seem right. He was confused; why did it feel like his bed was wet? He made it to the bathroom last night, didn't he? He must have just had to go a second time without realizing it. he was frustrated that he had still managed to have an accident, wishing his trip to the toilet would have been enough to save him from his usual daily embarrassment. He started to remove his comforter so he could get out of bed and deal with his accident like he had done thousands of times before when suddenly, an odd sensation hit him like a ton of bricks. "No. I didn't. That's not fair," Kris thought, as he realized with confusion that he pooped himself in his sleep. He didn't get up to go to the bathroom; it was all just a dream. A cruel, unfair dream. Kris looked down and around his bunk briefly to check if Kyle had seen him start getting up. Maybe he could wait until he left their room and get cleaned up afterward. "Let's go, dude. Breakfast is on the table," Kyle called up to his brother from below his bed, as he finished putting on his socks for the day. "I'll be down in a minute," Kris replied, trying to remain calm. He tried to play things cool, acting as natural as he could. He hoped he could buy some more time, convincing his brother that everything was okay. "Well, hurry up and get dressed," Kyle replied impatiently. He knew Kris was a slacker, and would sleep in another two hours if they let him. "I'm gonna take a shower first." Kris tried to come up with an excuse as to why he would be late to breakfast. Knowing that if he went down in soiled pajama pants, his Dad would be furious. "Why?" Kyle shot back. They normally took showers in the evening. Kris saying he would take one first thing in the morning was odd. Unless, he had another accident. "He wet himself again. Didn't he?" Kyle already knew the truth. He was so frustrated sharing a bedroom with his little brother. He had been wetting himself for years now, and never really got the hang of nighttime training. He couldn't stand the fact that their room always smelled of urine. He's eight years old for crying out loud. Sam wasn't even wetting the bed anymore and she was six! "I just wanna take a quick shower, is all." Kris knew his brother probably saw through his lie by now. But held onto hope, that just maybe he would let this one slide. "You had another accident, didn't you?" Kyle poked, already knowing the answer. "...Yeah" Kris replied defeatedly. "Maybe he won't find out about how bad it is." Kris knew that he was busted. At this point, he just wanted to hide, and save himself from further embarrassment. "Just get changed. You can take a shower after breakfast if you really need to." Kyle was annoyed that he had to share a room with such a baby. "I'd really prefer to take one first." Kris's face burnt red as he blushed. He knew he was out of luck. There was no way his brother didn't know the current state of his situation at this point. "Why? It's not like you pooped yourself like a baby." "Oh my gosh, is that what that smell is? I thought he just farted or something." Kyle's face scrunched up in disgust. Kris just remained silent, not wanting to reply. His family has a strict no-lying policy, so he couldn't say he didn't, but he didn't want to admit it. *sigh* "I'll let them know you'll need an extra few minutes. But hurry up," Kyle told Kris, realizing what had happened, and that Kris would never admit to it. "Thanks..." Kris felt broken. He was grateful for his brother, thinking he would cover for him. But, the humiliation of his brother's words, and the state of his pajamas made him feel small and foolish. He thought he made it. He thought his parents would be proud of him for staying dry, but instead of just wetting his bed, he used it like a toilet. Chapter 2: Morning breakfast conversations Kris took the fastest shower of his life. He wanted to clean up this mess before anyone else had the chance to find out. He was lucky that the girls were already downstairs by the time he left the room, and the bathroom being at the bottom of the stairs was an added bonus saving him from the potential humiliation. His shower over, Kris bundled up his soiled and soaked pajamas into a ball. He hoped he could sneak them back upstairs before anyone saw them. He could get them cleaned later, first thing was not to let anyone find out. "Kris! Hurry up, bud. We are waiting on you," Kim, Kris' mom, shouted from the kitchen after hearing the bathroom door open. "Okay, I'll be down in a second, just need to put my pajamas back real quick," Kris replied, knowing he had to hurry before someone saw his clothes and questioned deeper on why he took a shower in the morning. "Don't!. Just put them in the laundry room. I'll get them washed later today." His mom replied. "That's odd? Normally, she has us all bring down all the laundry at once. Does she already know about my accident, or was she just trying to save me on time?" Kris knew he couldn't argue; he wanted to, but it wouldn't make sense. He might be able to play it off as him grabbing the rest of the laundry, but knowing the family was waiting on him to eat breakfast wasn't likely to work. Frustrated with the situation, he quickly took his bundled-up clothes and speed walked past the dining room to get to the back of the house towards the laundry room, hoping no one saw his soiled pajamas. Kris returned to the dining room, sitting in his usual spot next to his dad, across from his brother, with his younger sister Sam on his right. Everyone was in their usual spots. Something felt different. It felt like they were all looking at him, judging him. He hoped it was all in his head, but there was no way for him to tell. He was already self-conscious about what happened earlier with his brother. He knew he was a little late to breakfast, too, but that was nothing new; it was a common occurrence for him when it came to weekends. "French toast, yum! Thank you, Mom," Kris tried to distract himself with the world's best breakfast in his mind. His favorite part was covering his French toast in powdered sugar. It might be super unhealthy, but he didn't care. He was eight years old. He just wanted to eat something yummy. "Are we all ready to dig in?" Kim asked, making sure Kevin, their Dad, was ready to give the okay. He ran the house, so what he says goes. "Yep, let's dig in," he replied, grabbing his utensils and the first few slices from the stack of toast in the middle of the table. Everyone quickly followed suit to get their food. Kris had his classic white circle from all the powdered sugar around his plate. Kevin, seeing everyone enjoying the meal, and getting a few slices in his belly, decided to start some morning chatter. "So, how did everyone sleep?" "I slept great!" Tammi, the oldest of the four, started everyone off. She normally felt silenced due to their family dynamic; with "men running the house," so anytime she got a chance to speak up and be first, she wanted to take it. She wanted to be a role model for her siblings, especially for her younger sister. "I slept like a baby!" Sam chimed in next. Her words felt like a sharp pain in Kris's ears after his brothers comment this morning. His cheeks burned red with embarrassment at the remark. "I had this really cool dream. Do you wanna hear it?" She was the youngest, and always excited to go off on these wild dreams. Her imagination was hyper active, which made it easy for her to play by herself or with Kris at times, but also made for the longest stories ever. "Not right now, honey. Let's wait until everyone else goes first. Then, you can tell us all about it." Kevin told her. He didn't want to break her spirit about it, but he also knew once she got started, it might take an hour before she would finish. "Okay! How about you, Kyle? How did you sleep?" Sam poked, trying to get everyone through so she could share her story. She knew Kyle would be quick; he wasn't one to go into his dreams or be boring and talk about other things. "I slept okay," He replied. Kris could feel his heart racing. It nearly felt like it was trying to pound out of his chest. He was terrified at the thought that Kyle would tattle on him. Kyle nearly did every time he had an accident, it was almost like it was his mission to tell Mom and Dad whenever it happened. Would today be the same? "That's great. How about you, Kris? Did you sleep well?" Kevin knew Kyle was a young man with few words. He wanted to get to Kris, who he was wondering about. He had a feeling Kris had an accident this morning, otherwise why else would he have taken a shower so early in the day? Kris noticed a slight smile on Tammi's face. Kyle had his head down, looking at his food, and a small head shake. Kris had a feeling Tammi had found out what happened last night. He didn't know for sure, and wasn't about to admit to everyone at the breakfast table that he pooped himself last night. He didn't even want to admit when he wet himself, so this was a hundred times worse, he'd rather take this secret to the grave if he could. "Uhhh... Yea! I slept well. I even managed to wake up last night to go to the potty," Kris felt proud of himself, he knew he still had an accident last night, but the thought that he had made it to the bathroom, gave him a feeling of accomplishment. He might have thought it was a dream, but he also had no way to tell for sure if it was or not. "Liar! No, you didn't. Not even close. You pooped yourself in your sleep." Kyle snapped back, mad that his brother refused to own up to his accidents. "Kristopher!" Kim, shouted at him. The girls practically spat out their food at this reveal. They knew he wet the bed, he did it nearly every night without fail. But pooping himself? Only babies did things like that. Everyone was a little shocked that Kris didn't just own up to it. He normally tried to hide his bed wetting, but this was different, instead he tried to lie about it and claim he used the potty in the middle of the night. "Is this true?" Kevin's face was stern. He was mad that Kris would lie about this. Kris knew how he felt about lying. Normally, Kris would own up to having an accident, even if he wet himself on purpose, he would admit it. So why not this time? "Yeah..." Kris replied, defeated. There was no recovering from his brother's accusation. Kris could see his Dad was furious with this information. "What is up with this kid!? He uses his bed like his own personal toilet. This is insane!" Kevin thought. He was at his wits end with Kris's bed-wetting issue. They've talked about it hundreds of times, each one he claimed: "he didn't know what happened." "Dude! What happened?" Kevin was clearly irritated. "I don't know," Kris replied sheepishly. He really had no idea why he kept wetting the bed. He thought he did wake up in the middle of the night, but he couldn't dispute the fact that he woke up soaked, and covered in his own poop. "That's not acceptable." Kevin was livid at this point. He's had to buy several packs of underwear for Kris, each one to replace the pair he ruined from all his accidents. "I don't know why Daddy, I just didn't wake up." Kris sank in his chair slightly. He didn't know what to do or say. "Didn't wake up, huh? It sounds like he just didn't want to get up. How can this kid be so lazy and okay with peeing himself?" Kevin couldn't stand Kris's behavior. "So instead, you thought you'd lie about it and say you 'used the bathroom'?" Kevin wanted the truth out of his son. He wanted him to see the error of his ways, and that lying about it was wrong. He should know better. He needs to know better. Unsure how to answer, Kris just sat there in silence. *sigh* "Fine, let's go clean it up. You're going to watch how this is done. I'm sick of cleaning your bed for you. You're not a toddler anymore, and I'm too old for this." Kevin instructed Kris "Okay." Kris knew he was in trouble. But he didn't know what to do. It's not like he meant to poop himself in bed. All he knew was his dad was mad, and to not make things worse if he could avoid it. Chapter 3: The clean-up "Strip your bed. Everything needs to come off of it to clean up this mess." Kevin instructed his son. He left to get the spot shampooer from the cleaning closet, while Kris began to pull off his wet and soiled bedding. He felt a small tear forming in his eye. He never meant to make a mess; he didn't want this to be a part of his life, but it seemed like he had no choice in the matter. He felt completely humiliated at the situation he found himself in. That dream felt so real; he was positive he made it to the bathroom. "Did you get everything off?" Kevin spoke, breaking Kris's train of thought as he returned with the shampooer. "Yes, sir." Kris wanted to be as respectful towards his Dad as he could. Maybe, if he were lucky, his Dad wouldn't be any harder on him than he already was. "Good, now come here and watch how you get this thing ready." Kevin set the shampooer on the floor, placing the cleaning solution next to it. He didn't want to keep doing this, and after throwing out his old mattress, he didn't want to buy a new one either. Kris walked over to his Dad, standing next to him as his Dad poured the cleaner into the shampooer. "Only fill it to this line with the cleaner. The rest is warm water," Kevin instructed. "I don't want to have to keep doing this." Kris stood there in silence, slightly nodding at his Dad's words. "When will you grow up and stop peeing in your bed?" Kevin asked rhetorically. He knew Kris wasn't going to reply, and even if he did, it would just make him mad. Again, Kris didn't reply. How could he respond? It's not something he is in control of. *Sigh* "I guess that was more of a rhetorical question anyway. Alright, stay here and watch." Kevin positioned Kris in the doorway of his bedroom. He still had a rough line of sight but couldn't see too much of what his Dad was doing. "You really did a number on it this time. Not only did you soak it, but you managed to smear your poop so much it seeped through the sheets and onto the mattress." It was clear to see the look of disgust on Kevin's face. Kris felt embarrassed at his Dad's remark. He was used to feeling embarrassed whenever they talked about his accidents, but hearing his Dad's words while watching him clean up after his mess only made him want to hide behind the door frame. "I'm sorry," Kris said sorrowfully, looking down at his feet. "Sorry for what? Treating your bed like it's your own personal toilet?" Kevin snapped back, pausing his efforts to clean up the mattress. There was nothing he felt Kris could say that would make things better. Kris had no reply. He just stared at his Dad. He knew he couldn't say anything. He never intended to wet his bed; he never thought of it as a toilet, but there was no way his Dad would believe him. Not when he was mad like this. Five minutes into the cleaning process, Kris noticed his Dad had shifted focus from where most of the damage was done to a more whole-bed approach. Kris felt a little relief that this soon would be behind them. However, he also noticed that he had a growing pressure building up in his bladder. He needed to pee soon. He didn't want to interupt his Dad, but he also didn't want to stand here, bored, forever needing to pee. "Daddy?" Kris spoke up over the noise of the shampooer. "What?" Kevin switched off the machine to listen to what his son had to say. His tone made it clear he was still angry. "Can I go to the bathroom?" Kris asked sheepishly. He wanted to get out of this, but more importantly, he wanted to relieve himself. "Really? No apology, just asking to go to the bathroom after what you did to your bed?" Kevin thought to himself, upset at the thought that his son just wanted to get out of watching him clean up his mess. "Why don't you just go in your bed? After all, you seem to think it's a bathroom anyway." Kevin snapped back at his son in frustration. He couldn't believe he had the guts to try and get out of taking responsibility for ruining his bed. Kris wasn't sure what to do. He stood there frozen, afraid that he would just make things worse. He could do what his Dad told him, but that didn't make sense. His Dad was cleaning his bed, so he couldn't use it. Even if he did, he would be mortified to do so. He wanted to use the toilet. His other option was just to stand there waiting for his Dad to change his mind. Hopefully, he would. Each second there was silence between them felt like an eternity. The longer he waited to reply, the more likely he would make his Dad angrier. Trying to avoid making his Dad further upset only made this decision and his dad's comment all the harder. What is the right decision? Is there a right decision? "He's cleaning my bed. I can't go in it. Should I pee my pants instead?" Kris thought, torn on what he should do, not wanting to say a single word as that might upset his dad even more. "Well?!" his dad asked angrily. "You're just trying to get out of watching how to clean this up. Either hold it until we are done or pee your pants like the baby you've been acting like." Kevin had enough at this point after years of trying to get him dry during the night. His occasional daytime accidents didn't help. Especially since it was done on purpose each time. When confronted about it, he would admit he peed or pooped his pants on purpose either because he didn't want to stop playing or to try to get his siblings in trouble. It might have been a while since the last time that happened, but it felt like it was yesterday with all of his nighttime accidents. Kris blushed. Kyle calling him a baby was rude, but he could brush it off. Hearing it come from his Dad stung a little harder. He hoped he could hold it, but with all of the embarrassment and pressure from his dad, he wasn't sure. He felt he had to pee pretty bad, but was that because he did, or was it because he was trying to find a reason to avoid his dad for a little while? Kevin climbed off the ladder rather than starting to get back to cleaning. Kris felt his heart skip a beat as his Dad approached with the shampooer. "I need to empty this thing." He held up the shampooer. Kris could see the dirty tank on the shampooer; its water looked yellowy brown. He hadn't realized that his accidents had caused that much damage. "Stay here. You are not to leave this spot until I get back," Kevin instructed his son. "Okay," Kris replied. He wanted to follow his Dad, taking the chance to go pee. He was trying his best to hide the fact that he was starting to do a little potty dance. If his Dad had noticed, it would only make things worse and annoy him even more. Kevin left the room, leaving Kris alone with his thoughts. None of the other kids came over to check on him. Even having a conversation with Kris might have caused their Dad to get more upset, and no one wants to get switched. Just the thought of the plastic rod being used to spank them, was enough to send a shiver down their spines. Kris felt a huge pressure lift from his shoulders. His Dad's exit from the room gave him the chance to breathe. Kris wasn't sure if he was going to be punished or not today for what happened or if this was going to be the worst of it. All he knew was the sooner this could be over, the better. "Alright, this should be the last batch. Do you want to do it this time?" Kevin asked as he walked back into the room. Hoping his son would take responsibility this time. "Can I use the bathroom first?" Kris asked. He felt he wouldn't be able to hold on too much longer. He wasn't sure why his bladder was acting up so much, he just knew that he had to go, and he didn't want to shampoo his bed. *Sigh* "You're just trying to get out of doing work again. No. You can hold it until we are done. This will only take a few more minutes; wait here and watch." Kevin wasn't buying the fact that his son had to use the bathroom. He noticed his "potty dance" but wasn't buying that it was real. Kevin climbed back up the ladder to Kris's bed and started shampooing again. "I don't know if I can hold it much longer," Kris thought. Kris was doing his best to hold it in, he didn't want to do a potty dance, but he couldn't help himself. He placed his hand between his legs, trying to hold it in. Kevin was doing his best to ignore it. He knew if he addressed it, he would lose it, blowing his top off and yelling at Kris. He didn't want to do that, he was trying to not be a jerk, but the situation was really pushing his limits. Kris wasn't hopping from foot to foot but was shifting his weight from foot to foot now and then. Just enough to try and help, but not enough to become annoying. Kris kept trying his best, but after several minutes he reached the breaking point. He felt a small squirt of pee make its way to his pants. Dampening his underwear. It hadn't leaked through to his pants, but he knew he couldn't take it anymore. Another spurt quickly followed; afraid he was going to wet himself; Kris spoke up. Asking one more time would be better than just wetting himself in front of his Dad. "Daddy!" Kris shouted over the shampooer so his dad could hear him. "What now!?!" Kevin shouted back at his son as he turned off the shampooer. The pure anger on his Dad's face and the tone of voice used, full of anger and frustration sent a shiver down Kris's spine. It was too much for him. He was so scared; he lost his ability to speak, and... *hiss* He lost his control and started peeing his pants uncontrollably. "Dude!" Kevin shouted, "You've got to be kidding me. What are you two?!" Kevin lost it at this point. He quickly climbed down the ladder and walked over to his son. With how angry he was, he looked like he was ten feet tall and could bend a building in half if he wanted to. He grabbed Kris by the wrist and started dragging him toward the bathroom. Kris felt the tight grip on his wrist. He stumbled here and there, trying to keep up with his dad as he was pulled along. Kris felt tears rolling down his cheeks. He had no idea what would happen now. All he knew was this was the maddest he had ever seen his dad so far. "That's it, I've had enough. Fine! You want to pee yourself like a baby. You'll wear a diaper like one, too!" Kevin's shouting was heard throughout the whole house while he pulled Kris toward the bathroom. Kris's eyes were huge hearing this. His Dad threatened to put him in diapers before, but this was the first time it seemed like he was serious about getting them. Chapter 4: To the Store "Take a shower and get yourself cleaned up," Kevin told Kris, slightly tossing him into the bathroom. He felt furious that Kris would pee his pants like that. Kevin closed the door behind him, giving Kris some time to collect himself and clean up. "Unbelievable. He peed his pants. What is wrong with him? Yeah, he said he had to go. I bet he peed himself on purpose, hoping to get out of needing to finish cleaning his bed." Kevin's thoughts ran wild. He knew he was angry and likely wasn't thinking straight, but he followed through with what he told his kids. If they were throwing a fit at the store, they'd leave everything behind and go home until they learned to behave. He wanted them to learn that their word is their bond. Knowing he spoke out of anger didn't change the fact that he said he would get Kris diapers. Kris felt devastated. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing the wet patch running down the front of his pants. He never felt more embarrassed in his life. He had wet his pants a few times after potty training, but that was either in the snow so no one could tell or when he didn't want to stop playing. This was the first time he accidentally wet himself in a long time. His Dad looked so angry. He'd never seen his Dad like that before. All he could hope for now was that the time it took for him to take a shower would be enough for his dad to calm down. "Kyle, go grab some clothes for your brother," Kevin spoke coldly. He wasn't going to let this instance with Kris affect the way he treated the others, but he also knew they needed to leave sooner. The quicker they all got ready, the better. "Girls, could you get the Bibles ready? We're heading to Church a little early today. We need to make a stop first." "Okay, Daddy!" both girls replied, quickly getting up from the couch and preparing for Church. Their family attended a small home-based church with about five families. They found that there was more community that way. Church service started at 11 a.m. on Sundays, and it was currently 9:10 am. The drive usually only took 30 minutes. Giving them only 30 minutes or so to shop if they left by 9:30 or 10. "Kris, you better hurry up with that shower. We're leaving for Church in 30 minutes. If you're not out in 15, I'll come in there turn off the hot water," Kevin said, trying to incentivize him. Kris quickly hopped into the shower and gave himself a quick but thorough cleaning He didn't know how long it took, all he knew was his Dad hadn't came in. So it must have been under 15 minutes. Stepping out of the shower, Kris heard his brother, Kyle, knock on the door. "I got you a change of clothes." "Thanks, be there in a second." Kris felt grateful that his brother had gotten him some clothes to change into. He quickly dried himself off, and opened the door a crack to grab the clothes. Luckily for him, it looked like Kyle had picked something he would enjoy wearing. Kris got dressed and sat on the toilet for a few moments, trying to calm down from the craziness this day turned out to be. Kris's moment of peace was short-lived as he heard another knock on the door. "Don't forget to use the bathroom before we leave. I don't want you peeing yourself while we are at the store." Kevin spoke briefly on the other side of the door. He wanted to hit the road soon. He always hated it when they were late. In his mind, if you're on time, you're late. "I will," Kris felt numb to his Dad's remark, already feeling destroyed for the day. The jabs felt like nothing; he was already miserable, and no one could make him feel any worse. He flipped up the lid on the toilet and tried to get anything and everything out. But nothing came out except for a few small farts. Not wanting to delay them, he quickly finished up and got ready to leave for Church. Kris opened the bathroom door and looked around, trying to see if his Dad was around. Not seeing any sight of him, he ran over to his mom. "Why are we going to the store before Church? I thought shopping was next week?" Kris hoped the reasoning wasn't what he thought it was. "I don't know, bud. Dad wants to make a quick stop before we get to Church this time," Kim lied. She knew that Kevin finally lost it and wanted to get Kris diapers, but she didn't have the heart to tell him. She secretly hoped that Kevin would just drop the subject but knew that wasn't likely to happen. Kris knew he was on the smaller side for his age, weighing only 46 lb. and measuring 3ft 8 inches. He was mad that he got placed back in a booster seat; now, he and Sam were both stuck in them. For a short while, he was able to go without them, finally feeling like the older brother to his sister, despite his accidents. The roll back to a booster seat, was a huge shot to his ego. The laws had changed to be based on weight or height limits instead of age, so he had no choice in the matter, yet another thing stolen from him. With everyone ready, the family started to pile into the car. Kris crawled into the back seat next to his younger sister, Sam. Even though he often had trouble buckling himself in, he could still manage it himself. "Everyone buckled?" Kevin asked from the driver's seat. "Yes," all the kids replied. Kevin was happy that all the kids managed to get buckled and settled in without issues for a change. He felt a small smile forming on his face. "Man, if only they behaved this well all the time," Kevin thought, but he knew they were only behaving because he was angry. The drive to the store was uneventful, which shocked Kevin. Normally, they have some type of argument, but it was total peace back there for a change. Kris sat in the back, trying to stay calm, but his nerves were getting the best of him. He didn't want to disappoint his dad or cause any more trouble. He just hoped that everything would be okay. Kevin pulled into a parking spot at the megastore. Kris tried to keep his anxiety in check as he unbuckled and made his way out of the car, following his family into the store. He knew that his dad was probably going to buy diapers for him. "Kyle, could you grab a cart for us, please?" Kevin asked, his tone softened. The drive over was enough of a break to take off the edge. Kyle wasted no time grabbing the cart and quickly ran back over with it. Kris followed his Dad and family into the store. He kept his eyes down, hoping no one would notice him. He felt small and vulnerable, like a little kid. He noticed that they were heading straight toward the baby section. His heart raced as his worst fear was becoming a reality. They were really going to buy diapers for him. He felt a lump form in his throat as they approached the diaper aisle. "Daddy, I don't need diapers," Kris said, his voice shaking a little. "Sorry, bud, I told you we would get them. Besides, your actions lately would say otherwise." Kevin replied, trying to sound gentle. "They'll be for you to wear at night, just in case. None of us want to keep cleaning your bed." Kris felt his face turn red. He didn't want to wear diapers like a baby. He knew he was a big kid. "Okay, let's see what we have here," Kevin began scanning the shelves, trying to find out which ones would fit him. He picked out a few different options. He found some nighttime pull-ups and some size 7 diapers that looked like they might do the trick, even if it was just to scare him into behaving better. "These should do the trick," Kevin handed Kris each box and package from the shelves he wanted to buy. He kept the selection semi-limited, only grabbing three different styles. Kris saw his sisters giggle slightly as he placed the box of size 7 diapers into the cart. He felt tears forming in his eyes. He didn't want to wear diapers. He wanted to be a big boy like his siblings. He knew that his dad was doing what he thought was best for him. Even if it made Kris feel embarrassed and small. As they checked out and headed back to the car, Kris kept his head down, hoping that no one would notice the boxes of diapers in their cart. He felt ashamed and humiliated. He knew that his dad loved him, but days like today made it a little hard for him to be close to him. He tried to focus on the thought of playing with his friends when they got to Church, but knowing that the diapers were easily visible in the back of their Suburban made him feel nervous that someone would see it. Chapter 5: Stressed Out Kris tried to keep his emotions under control as they pulled up to the home where their Church was held. It was a small, cozy place with a white picket fence and a large backyard. Kris was relieved to see that all of the other families were already there. There was no way anyone would see the diapers then, as they were the furthest away from the house at this point. He had a feeling his Dad was upset that they were late, but he couldn't see any signs if he was or not. Kris grabbed his things, including his Dad's bible, racing his younger sister down the stairs around the side of the house. They had a friendly competition between them over who could get into the house the fastest. They always had to slow down slightly as they approached the sliding glass door, not wanting to damage it or the host family's home. Entering the house, they set their bibles on the seats. They wanted to play with the other kids, but before they got the chance, they heard the other parents call them back to get ready for service to start. Kris felt disappointed; he had hoped he would have gotten a chance to play a little bit, at least before service started. His family joined them shortly after the kids returned and took their seats. Kris wanted to be frustrated, but he knew he was the cause of their lateness. With everyone in their seats, the service started. Kris's heart sank as they took prayer request for the week. He couldn't believe his ears when his Dad asked for them to pray about Kris's bedwetting problem. Kris wanted to sink away in his seat, to just disappear. One of his friends at Church knew about his issue, but that was because they had sleepovers all the time. Out side of him, he didn't think any of the other kids knew about it. He had to fight his emotions to just run away and hide, as he heard some of the other kids giggle, quickly being hushed by their parents. Kris knew he could do nothing about the situation. He tried to bury his face into his bible, and song book every chance he got. He followed along with the lesson like he always did. Zoning out mostly, he joined, singing along with the songs, but everything else felt like a bore. Before he knew it, the service was over, and the families were chatting about their week. It was one of the things they did to connect a little bit more. Kris both enjoyed and hated this part. He counted how many families were left before they were finally done. But every time it got to them in the past, he would get excited. He loved it when his parents talked about him and his siblings. They normally just talk about the good highlights, which always makes him feel special. He felt his anxiety rise as his Dad started to talk about their week. He was worried that he would talk about his bed wetting again. He was shocked that his Dad hand't brought it up again. Kris was relieved that service was finally over, but he felt tired. Everything was stressing him out, and the boredom of service didn't help. He wanted to just leave and go home, forgetting this nightmare ever happened. Unfortunately for him, his parents wanted to stick around for a while, chatting with the other adults. Kris began panicking. Would the other kids pick on him for wetting the bed? Would any of them find out about the diapers? He couldn't stop thinking about the box of diapers in the car. He felt embarrassed and ashamed as if he was somehow less of a person because he needed them. "Hey Kris! You wanna come play with us?" Breaking from his thoughts, he was hesitant, worried they might just want to pick on him. Play house or something and make him the baby. Kris looked at his friend, who had broken him out of his worries. It was Ben. Ben had already known about his accidents, so there was no way he would be planning something. Pushing his worries aside, Kris ran over to play with his friend for a while, distracting himself. Kris felt normal as he played with the other kids. No one said anything or even implied anything about his bed-wetting. He thought one of his siblings would have said something, but it seemed like they were content just having fun with the other kids. "Time to clean up." Kris heard his Mom call down the hallway. He felt bummed that they couldn't play longer but was happy he at least got a chance to have some fun before they had to leave. He grabbed his things and his Dad's bible, just like when he came in. Walking out the door and heading back up to the car was less of a race. Kris suddenly felt his Dad's hand on his shoulder, standing behind him. "You okay, bud?" He asked reassuringly. His Dad wasn't angry anymore. Kris could see a genuine interest in him, and how he was doing. Kris nodded, but he wasn't feeling okay at all. He felt ashamed for needing diapers, and he was sure that everyone knew it. Kevin placed his hand on Kris's back and gently nudged him on. "Come on, let's go home,". Kris climbed into the backseat of the car, feeling small and defeated as his eyes made contact with the box of diapers in the back. He buckled himself in and watched as his family got settled in the front. They drove away from Church. Kris couldn't shake the feeling that he was different from everyone else. He didn't want to be a burden, but he couldn't help feeling like he was. Kevin glanced back at Kris in the rearview mirror. "Hey, I know this is tough," he started. "But you did great at Church today. We'll get this bedwetting thing under control in no time, okay?" Kris didn't respond. He just looked out the window, trying to hold back tears. He knew that this wasn't going to go away overnight. He wanted it to, but he had no control over the situation. Kris was glad when they finally got home. He took his bible inside. He thought his parents were going to make him take the diapers in the house as well, or take them upstairs, but they hadn't said anything. Exhausted from the lack of sleep and from the emotional turmoil of the day. Kris decided he was going to take a nap. He normally didn't like taking a nap, not even in the car, but today. He needed it. He made his way upstairs, and climbed up into bed. His mattress was still slightly damp from cleaning it. Not wanting to get cold, he grabbed an extra blanket he kept in their closet, and placed it down on the mattress. He lay there, staring up at his ceiling. He had posters up for different events they went to. He felt lost, and alone. Like no other kid knew what it was like to be like him. He felt he was the only one in the world with these issues. But, as he lay there, he remembered that there are millions of other kids all around the world. There had to be other kids like him. He knew there was no way he was actually alone. Even with how his Dad acted, he knew he still loved him. Slowly, he started to feel a little better. He knew that things wouldn't be easy, but he also knew that he had his family to help him through. He closed his eyes, tired of thinking, tired of remembering, tired from being tired, and slowly drifted off to sleep. Little did he know, it was a bad idea to have fallen asleep... Chapter 6: Not Again… Kris shifted in his bed, slowly waking up from his nap. Stretching his arms up after getting some much-needed shuteye, he froze, reality shattering in with the awareness of another bedwetting episode. "Not again," Kris thought to himself. The familiar scent of his embarrassment was in the air. He climbed off his ladder, connected to his top bunk, and over to his dresser after yet another accident. Trying to hide his shame. "This is the third time today." Kris thought with defeat. "This isn't fair; I don't want to wear diapers." Kris opened his dresser drawer to get a new pair of underwear and clean pants. "You can't be serious," He whispered while looking through the drawers, franticly looking for some fresh underwear and pants, only to find none. Not even the pair of pants he usually doesn't wear. "Where are they?" Kris changed his focus to the dirty laundry, but there was nothing there either. Kris begins to tear up. "No. It's not fair. Where are they? I can't even find pajama pants." While Kris was sleeping, Kim asked Kyle to grab all his pants and underwear. This way, if he had an accident, he wouldn't be able to hide and lie about it. Feeling flustered on what to do, Kris stood there, contemplating the next steps. The thought of going downstairs in his soaked pants made his stomach churn with embarrassment. The alternative, staying upstairs to avoid the potential judgment from his family, seemed equally daunting. It would only be a matter of time before someone came up to check on him; then what would he do? After an internal debate, Kris took a deep breath and decided to face the consequences. He carefully headed down the stairs, each step accompanied by the hushed rustle of fabric. As he approached the bottom, a knot of anxiety tightened in his chest. Kris's older brother, Kyle, was in the living room with the rest of the family, engrossed in the TV. As Kris cautiously emerged, Kyle's eyes widened, and a mischievous grin played on his lips. "Hey, Kris! Nice pants! Did you have a little accident?" Kyle called out, his voice carrying through the room. A flush of embarrassment painted Kris's cheeks as he attempted to play it cool, doing his best to shield his pants from prying eyes. The living room fell silent, the TV momentarily forgotten as the family turned their attention to Kris's descent. "Seriously, Kris? Did you pee yourself?" Tammi, his older sister, chimed in with a teasing tone. Kris winced but nodded reluctantly, "Yeah, okay, I did. Can we not make a big deal out of it?" The silence lingered briefly before erupting into laughter and an onslaught of teasing from the family. "Dude! Did you forget how to use the bathroom or something?" Kevin, his father, spoke up, feeling frustrated. Kyle added, "Good thing we got you those diapers, Kris! Looks like you can use one right about now." "No..." Kris began, his voice trailing as he realized he had no ground to stand on with his current state. His shoulders slumped in defeat. His attempt to argue back was halted by the reality of his soaked pants and the amused expressions of his family. He shot a glare at Kyle, who was reveling in the moment. Sensing Kris's distress, Kim stepped forward; concern etched across her face. "Come on, Kris. Let's get you cleaned up." She motioned for him to follow her. As they retreated to the bathroom, Kris couldn't help but complain, "Where did all of my pants go? I couldn't find anything!" Kim sighed, understanding the frustration in Kris's voice. "I asked Kyle to gather your clothes, sweetie. These accidents are just something we're going to have to work through together. Hiding them won't help." Kris shot back, "But it's embarrassing! I don't want everyone knowing!" Kim knelt to Kris's eye level, her tone soft but firm. "Honey, we're a family. We support each other. You're not alone in this; we're here to help you. Now, let's focus on cleaning you up, and then we can talk about how to make things a bit easier for you, okay?" Kris simply nodded, still having a heavy heart. As Kim started helping Kris change into dry clothes, she suggested, "Maybe, for now, you could try wearing one of the diapers we got. It might help avoid these situations, and you'll know what it'll feel like later tonight." Kris's face scrunched up with reluctance. "A diaper? Mom, I don't want to wear diapers. I'm not a baby!" Kim looked at Kris, her eyes filled with empathy. "I know it's not ideal, sweetheart, but it could be a temporary solution while we work through this. You're not a baby; it's about finding a way to make things a bit easier for you. What do you think?" Kris hesitated, conflicted by the idea of wearing a diaper. He didn't want to give in to the teasing from his siblings, especially Kyle's recent comment. The thought of it made him feel small and helpless. "I don't know, Mom. I just don't want everyone to think I'm a baby," Kris muttered, looking down at the floor. Kim sighed, continuing to help Kris change into dry clothes. She spoke gently, "Kris, I understand this is hard for you, but wearing a diaper doesn't make you a baby. It's just a temporary measure to help you through a challenging time. Let's try it for now, and we'll work together to find a better solution." Kris remained resistant, his brows furrowed in frustration. "But Mom, I really don't want to. It's embarrassing, and Kyle just made that comment about diapers. I don't want to prove him right." "I know, Kris, but we need to find a way to manage this. The diaper is just a tool, and I promise we'll keep working on a more permanent solution. It's not about proving anyone right; it's about taking care of yourself." "I can't," Kris protested, his voice shaky. "I won't wear a diaper." Kim looked at Kris with a mix of empathy and determination. "Kris, I need you to understand that this is for your own comfort and well-being. We're a team, and as a team, we need to make decisions that are best for everyone. It's not just about what you want right now; it's about finding a way for all of us to get through this together." Kris sighed in frustration, feeling the weight of the situation. "Mom, I really can't." Kim, maintaining her resolve, looked directly into Kris's eyes. "Alright, Kris. I didn't want to do this, but if you don't wear the diaper willingly, I won't be able to give you any pants, and you'll have to go out with just the diaper on. It's your choice, sweetheart. Will you wear the diaper willingly or choose the second option?" Kris hesitated, realizing that his mom wasn't going to back down. Chapter 7: The Reveal Kris stood there, his mind swirling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he dreaded the idea of wearing a diaper, feeling like it would only magnify his embarrassment. On the other hand, the thought of not being able to wear pants and still needing to wear a diaper felt unfair. After a moment of tense silence, Kim broke the standoff with a gentle yet firm voice. "I understand this is hard for you, but I need you to choose. Will you wear the diaper willingly, or do we go with the second option?" Kris hesitated, feeling the weight of his decision bearing down on him. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he nodded. "Okay, Mom. I'll wear it." Kim's face softened into a small smile of relief. "Thank you, Kris. I know this isn't easy for you, but I promise we'll work through this together." She reached over to the sink, where a package of pull-up diapers lay. "Now, there are two designs for you to choose from." Holding out the two different designs for him to see. "There's the Hulk, and the other is radioactive. Which one do you want?" Kris glanced at the designs, feeling a glimmer of amusement amidst his discomfort. "Um, I guess...the Hulk one." Kim nodded, setting aside the radioactive design. "Great choice! Let's get you changed into this; then, we can join everyone out in the living room. Dad has some exciting news he wants to share with everyone." As Kris pulled up the diaper, he couldn't help but notice how different it felt compared to his usual underwear. It was thicker and bulkier, and the sensation of it hugging his waist felt strange and unfamiliar. Despite his reservations, he found a small sense of relief in knowing that he would at least have a clean pair of pants to wear over it. Once he was dressed, Kim knelt to his level, her expression full of warmth and encouragement. "How does it feel? Is it comfortable?" Kris hesitated, searching for the right words. "It's...weird. But I guess it's not too bad." Kim smiled, relieved that Kris had agreed to wear the diaper. "That's good to hear. I'm sure it'll feel more comfortable as you get used to it." She handed him a pair of pants, and Kris eagerly slipped them on, grateful for the added layer of coverage. As he adjusted the waistband, he couldn't help but steal a glance at himself in the mirror, half expecting to see the diaper outline beneath the fabric. To his surprise, there was no obvious sign of the diaper's presence. It was hidden well under his pants. Kris felt a rush of relief wash over him, realizing that maybe this wouldn't be as bad as he had feared. Kim watched Kris with a knowing smile, seeing the relief wash over his face. She knew that Kris was still self-conscious about wearing the diaper, but she hoped that with time, he would come to see it as just another part of his routine. As they left the bathroom, Kim lightly patted Kris on the butt, a gesture of encouragement and support. "You're doing great, Kris. Now, let's go see what exciting news Dad has for us." As Kris walked ahead of his mom towards the living room, Kim couldn't help but notice the slight outline of the diaper beneath his pants. It was subtle, barely noticeable to anyone who wasn't looking for it, but to Kim, it was a stark reminder of the challenges Kris was facing. She hoped that none of the other kids would notice. The last thing Kris needed was more teasing and embarrassment from his siblings, especially after Kyle's comment about him needing a diaper now. Kim's heart ached for her son, knowing how much he dreaded being the center of attention for something he couldn't control. As they approached the living room, Kris's steps slowed slightly, his worry noticeable in the way he glanced around nervously, waiting for his mom to catch up. Kim could sense his fears of his siblings' reactions. Sure enough, as they entered the room, Kris's fears were realized. Tammi and Kyle were sitting on the couch, their eyes lighting up with mischief as they spotted Kris. "Hey, look who's here! It's diaper boy!" Kyle exclaimed, a smirk playing on his lips. Kris's heart sank at the sound of Kyle's taunting voice. He felt a surge of frustration and embarrassment, knowing that his siblings were already making fun of him. "Knock it off, Kyle," Kris retorted, his voice tinged with irritation. "It's not funny." Tammi joined in with a snicker, "Yeah, I guess he's officially a baby now, huh?" "I'm not a baby!" Kris retorted, his voice trembling slightly with frustration. "I just...I had an accident, okay?" But Kyle and Tammi seemed unfazed, continuing to taunt Kris with smirks and snide remarks. "Aw, poor baby Kris," Kyle taunted, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "Need mommy to change your diaper?" Tammi chimed in, "Yeah, maybe we should start calling you Baby Kris from now on!" Kris felt a surge of anger boiling within him, his fists clenching even tighter as he struggled to maintain his composure. He wanted to lash out, to scream and shout at his siblings for their cruelty. But deep down, he knew that wouldn't solve anything. Instead, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to stay calm despite the overwhelming urge to retaliate. "You guys are jerks," he muttered under his breath, his voice barely audible. As Kris fought to control his emotions, Kevin's voice boomed from across the room, cutting through the tension like a knife. "Enough!" His tone was sharp, his frustration evident as he glared at Kyle and Tammi. Kris looked up, relief flooding through him at the sight of his father stepping in. Kevin's eyes narrowed as he addressed his other children. "That was too far. Kyle, Tammi, apologize to your brother. Now." Kyle and Tammi exchanged guilty glances, their smirks fading as they realized the severity of their father's tone. "Sorry, Kris," they mumbled in unison, their voices barely above a whisper, gazing down, unwilling to look at him face to face. Kevin's stern reprimand seemed to deflate the tension in the room, and Kris let out a silent sigh of relief as his siblings begrudgingly offered their apologies. It was a small victory, but at least for now, the teasing had stopped. "Alright, now that is behind us," Kevin declared, his voice firm but calm. "I have some exciting news to share with all of you." Kris's ears perked up at the mention of exciting news, momentarily distracted from the lingering discomfort of the earlier confrontation. He glanced at his father, curiosity sparking in his eyes. Kevin's expression softened into a warm smile as he gestured towards the envelope in his hand. "Well, I ran into an old friend of mine the other day, and he offered us something pretty special." He paused for dramatic effect, relishing in the anticipation building among his children. "Tickets to Disney World." The words hung in the air, eliciting gasps of astonishment and excitement from Kris and his siblings alike. Kris's eyes widened in disbelief, his heart racing with anticipation at the thought of visiting the magical world of Disney. "Really? We're going to Disney World?" Kris exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement. Kevin nodded, his smile widening at his children's enthusiastic reactions. "That's right. We leave in two weeks." Kris could hardly contain his excitement, his mind buzzing with visions of thrilling rides and beloved characters. He glanced at his siblings, seeing the same spark of excitement mirrored in their eyes. Tammi let out a squeal of delight, imagining herself posing with her favorite princesses. Kyle grinned from ear to ear, eager to experience Disney World for the first time. Even Sam, being oddly quiet this whole time, jumped about with excitement. As the initial shock wore off, the room erupted into a frenzy of excited chatter and planning. Kevin watched with a sense of satisfaction, grateful for the opportunity to create cherished memories with his family. But amidst the excitement, Kris couldn't shake being nervous about wearing diapers at night now. The thought of exploring Disney World with his secret being left at the hotel for anyone to find weighs heavily on his mind. What if someone found them? Would his friends back at home find out? What would others think of him? Nevertheless, as he watched his family eagerly discussing plans and packing lists, Kris couldn't help but feel excited. This would be the first family vacation they have gone on, and to Disney World, no less! With that thought in mind, Kris was swept away in the excitement of the impending adventure, determined to make the most of every magical moment at the happiest place on earth. Chapter 8: Night One As dinner time approached, Kris's stomach churned with a mix of excitement and anxiety. The smell of his mother's cooking filled the air, giving him a temporary sense of peace. He took his seat at the table, feeling the soft padding under his butt as he sat on the hard wooden chair. It was both comfortable, and awkward having this newfound softness added. Shortly after, his siblings gathered around as they eagerly anticipated their meal. "So, Kris," Tammi began, her tone teasing as she shot him a mischievous grin. "Do you think you'll be able to handle all the excitement at Disney World without having any accidents?" Kris felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks at Tammi's remark, his heart sinking as he braced himself for another round of teasing from his siblings. Before he could respond, Kyle chimed in with a smirk, "Yeah, I heard some of those rides can be pretty intense. Are you sure you won't need a diaper change halfway through?" Kris clenched his jaw, his fists tightening as he fought to maintain his composure. He desperately wanted to sink beneath the table, away from the prying eyes and taunting remarks of his siblings. But despite his frustration, Kris knew that retaliating would only fuel their teasing further. So, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to plaster on a fake smile as he replied, "Ha-ha, very funny, guys. I'll be fine, thank you very much." His words sounded weak even to his ears, but Kris refused to let his siblings see how much their teasing truly affected him. Instead, he focused on his dinner, silently praying for the conversation to shift away from his bedwetting struggles. "That's enough, you two!" Kevin's voice is firm and authoritative. "I just told you two to knock it off in the living room a minute ago. If you keep doing this, you'll get a spanking." His siblings fell silent under their father's stern gaze, and Kris breathed a small sigh of relief. He appreciated his dad's intervention, even if it was a temporary relief from their teasing. With the topic changed, the family was able to enjoy the rest of dinner without incident. Despite the anxiety bubbling in Kris's stomach, he managed to put on a brave face and join in the conversation, even mustering a few laughs at his siblings' jokes that weren't about him for a change. Once dinner ended, Kim instructed Kris and Sam to help clear the table. Kris nodded as he gathered up the empty plates. Sam skipped over to him, a cheerful smile lighting up her face as she grabbed a stack of dishes. "Come on, Kris! Let's race to see who can finish first!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious as she ran towards the kitchen. Kris chuckled, the tension easing slightly as he followed his younger sister's lead. He focused on the task at hand, determined to prove that he could handle the simplest of chores and beat his little sister. As they worked, Kris felt a familiar pressure building in his bladder. He glanced toward the bathroom, noting his need to go, but he also knew that helping his mom with the chores was important. Ignoring the discomfort, he continued to clear the table. But as the minutes passed, the urge to use the bathroom became too strong to ignore. Kris excused himself, intending to quickly relieve himself before returning to help Sam. However, as he made his way toward the bathroom, Sam's voice rang out behind him, her tone accusatory. "Hey! Where do you think you're going? We're supposed to be cleaning up together!" Kris paused, turning to face his sister with a sheepish expression. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick. I'll be right back." But Sam wasn't convinced, her brow furrowing in suspicion. "Mom! Dad! Kris isn't helping!" she called out, her voice carrying through the house. Kris's heart sank as he watched his parents enter the room, their expressions questioning. "I just need to use the bathroom real quick." He told them, hoping they would understand. Kim's face softened with understanding, but Kevin's expression remained stern. "Alright. Hurry up and come back to help," he instructed, his tone leaving no room for argument. With a nod of gratitude, Kris rushed to the bathroom, relief flooding through him as he used the bathroom. But even as he relieved himself, he couldn't shake the sting of embarrassment at being accused of shirking his responsibilities by his younger sister. While washing his hands, he couldn't help but notice that the pack of nighttime diapers that were in here earlier was gone, nowhere to be seen. Even looking under the sink and trying to find them, nada, they were gone. As Kris returns to help Sam with the dishes, he tries to push aside the embarrassment of the earlier incident. However, unbeknownst to him, his attempt to discreetly readjust his pants wasn't as successful as he hoped. The diaper's edge peeked out from the waistband, visible to any onlookers. While walking back from the bathroom and heading towards the kitchen, Kris could see his two older siblings out in the living room. Unwilling to make eye contact, he quickly rushed past to get back to help. Tammi and Kyle kept quiet, not wanting to test their dad, but looked at each other and gave a small snicker, seeing the diaper sticking out of the back of his pants. Back in the kitchen, Sam was absorbed in her task and didn't notice the diaper until she leaned over to place a plate on the counter. Her eyes widened in surprise as she caught a glimpse of the telltale edge. She straightened up, turning to Kris with a curious expression. "Hey, Kris," she whispered, a curious expression on her face. "Are you wearing a diaper?" Kris's heart skipped a beat, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment as he glanced around to ensure no one else heard. Then, checking his back, he noticed his pants were down slightly, showing it off. His cheeks were now burning with embarrassment. After hesitating for a moment, he nodded sheepishly. At the same time, pulling his pants back into place. "Yeah, I am," he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. Sam's eyes widened with surprise, but she quickly composed herself and leaned in closer, her voice barely a whisper, "Is it because of your accident earlier?" Kris nodded again, grateful for Sam's understanding and discretion. He didn't know how he would have handled it if she had teased him like his other siblings. "Don't worry," Sam whispered, her voice filled with innocence. "I won't tell anyone. It's our little secret." Kris's shoulders relaxed as he let out a sigh of relief. He knew he could trust Sam to keep his secret safe. With that weight lifted off his chest, he felt a newfound sense of comfort in their relationship. "Thanks," he whispered back, offering her a small but genuine smile. With the dishes cleared away, Kris and Sam joined the rest of their family in the living room. They settled down on the couch, enjoying the warmth and comfort of their home as they prepared for the rest of the evening. As they watched TV, Kris felt a sense of normalcy return, the tension from earlier dissipating with each passing moment. He chuckled at the antics of the characters on screen, feeling grateful for the distraction from his own worries. While relaxing, Kyle's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Hey, Kris," Kyle said, holding out a bowl of popcorn. "Want to share?" Kris hesitated momentarily; he hated when the kernels got stuck in his teeth. Despite the teasing from earlier, Kris knew his brother didn't actually dislike him. With a small smile, he nodded and grabbed a handful. "Thanks, Kyle," he said, his voice sincere as he passed the bowl back to his brother. Kyle grinned back at him, their tension easing as they shared a bowl of popcorn while watching TV to end the day. As the evening wore on, the family went about their usual routine. They took turns showering and getting ready for bed, the familiar rituals providing comfort and stability amidst the chaos of the day's struggles. As Kris made his way upstairs to prepare for bed, he couldn't shake off the lingering discomfort from the events of the day. Despite the break from his siblings' teasing, the memory of his exposed diaper and their whispered conversations still nagged at him. How could he be so careless? Entering his room, Kris approached his dresser, intending to retrieve his pajamas for the night. However, as he pulled open the drawers, his heart sank as he realized they were still empty. "Mom must still have them," Kris muttered, his frustration rising as he realized he would have to confront his mother about it. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Kris made his way to his parent's room, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet hallway. He paused outside the closed door, hesitating for a moment before mustering up the courage to knock. "Mom?" Kris called out tentatively, his voice barely above a whisper as he knocked. The door creaked open, revealing Kim's tired but welcoming smile as she greeted her son. "Hey there, bud. What's up?" Kris hesitated momentarily, "Um, Mom, I... I need some pajamas," he stammered, his gaze dropping to the floor in shame. His cheeks flushed with embarrassment at the fact that he needed to ask his mom for clothes. "Oh, honey, I'm so sorry," she said gently, her voice laced with regret. "I completely forgot to give them back to you. Here, let me get you a pair." Kim momentarily disappeared into the room before emerging with a pair of pajamas. She handed them to Kris, her smile apologetic as she met his gaze. "Here you go, sweetheart," she said softly. "I'm sorry for forgetting. You can wear these tonight," she said while handing Kris the only onesie pajama he still had left. Kris hardly ever wears it, as it's a bit itchy. But he isn't about to argue, it's been a long enough day as is. "Thank you." Kris accepted the pajamas with a grateful but exhausted smile. "Do you need a new diaper too?" Kris's eyes got huge; he wasn't expecting his mom to ask if he needed a diaper so casually. He hesitated, his stomach churning with discomfort. He glanced down at the clean diaper he was wearing, feeling a surge of embarrassment at the thought of his mom thinking he might have had an accident in it already. "N-no, I'm okay," he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. "This one's still clean." Kim nodded understandingly, though Kris could sense a hint of concern in her eyes. She didn't press the issue further, offering him a reassuring smile as she ushered him off to shower. "Alright, sweetheart. Just let me know if you need anything. Even if it's in the middle of the night and it leaks, okay?" she said gently, her hand resting on his shoulder comfortingly. The weight of his mother's words settled heavily on his shoulders. The idea of his diaper leaking in the middle of the night sent a shiver of anxiety down his spine. He nodded silently, unable to find his voice as he swallowed back his fears. "Okay, Mom," he finally managed to murmur, his voice barely audible as he forced a weak smile. Kim's expression softened, her hand giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. "It's okay. Now go take your shower and get ready for bed. You'll feel better after a good night's rest," she encouraged. Kris nodded again, offering his mom a small but appreciative smile before stepping into the bathroom. As he closed the door behind him, he leaned heavily against the sink, his mind racing with worries and doubts. He couldn't shake off the worry about the possibility of his diaper leaking in the middle of the night. The thought of waking up in a wet bed, embarrassing himself further, sent a shiver down his spine. Pushing the thoughts to the side, Kris opted to get his shower done and over with. It's been a long day, and they have a trip in two weeks that he can't wait for. 13 nights until they leave. As he emerged from the shower, Kris wrapped himself in a towel, his thoughts consumed by the uncertainty of what lay ahead: would he have accidents at Disney World? Are the rides really scary? What will the plane ride be like? It's his first time, after all. He dried himself off mechanically, his movements automatic as he tried to push aside his fears. His fingers hesitated as he reached for his clothes, hovering uncertainly over the diaper. Did he really need to put it back on? Then he glanced at the onesie pajamas his mom had given him; why did she have to pick those of all the sets he had? Seeing the pair made him feel even more like a baby, a stark reminder of his vulnerability. With a heavy sigh, Kris reluctantly slipped into the diaper and his pajamas, feeling the scratchy fabric against his skin as he struggled to adjust to the annoying sensation. He couldn't shake off the feeling of being exposed and the helplessness of having his accidents and the solution to them on display for everyone to see. How did this day go so wrong? But despite his misgivings, Kris knew he had no choice but to soldier on. With a resigned sigh, he climbed up his ladder to his bunk upon reaching the top, a reminder from earlier in the day. No one cleaned up his accident from his nap. Kris hung his head low as he climbed back down his ladder to ask his mom for help yet again. "What's up, dude?" Kyle asked as he was crawling into his bottom bunk. "My bed is still wet from earlier," Kris responded, giving up on trying to hide anything at this point in the day. He just wanted to go to sleep and forget all about this day. "You didn't clean it up yet?" "No." "Dad just showed you how to earlier. Why didn't you just clean it up?" "I didn't think about it; I kind of forgot about it with everything that's happened today." "What's going on, you two? Lights should have been out by now?" Kevin came over to check in on his two boys. "Kris's bed is still wet from when he peed himself earlier today," Kyle told his dad nonchalantly. *Sigh* "Alright, grab the shampooer you're doing it this time." Kevin told Kris while looking annoyed but drained at the same time. Not nearly as angry as he saw him last time they cleaned his bed. Kris quickly left their room and went downstairs to get the shampooer from the laundry room. Luckily for him, it still had some cleaner in it from last time. "Do you remember how to use it?" "Yes, sir," Kris replied as he started up his ladder. "Good, hurry up and get it cleaned up. I'll be back in a minute with a towel you can put down and a new set of sheets." Kevin instructed Kris as he left the room. Tired and just wanting to be done with the day, Kris rushed in to clean the bed. Spraying down the cleaner, then using the nozzle to suck up the mucky yellow grime and bubbles laden in the fibers. The two scents swirled together, creating an unpleasant combination but leaving behind at least a milder scent on the bed. Once finished to the point where the bed was at least acceptable to lay in, he climbed down his ladder and set the shampooer to the side of their bed. He didn't want to return it downstairs. He was done and just wanted the night to end. He then stood in front of the ladder, waiting for his father to return with the promised towel. Kevin returned a moment later with a fluffy towel tucked beneath one arm and a new pair of sheets in the crook of his other. Looking to the shampooer, he tossed the towel up on the top bunk while reaching for the machine, he dropped the sheets to the floor. "Make the bed, and go to sleep." His father said as he exited the room without glancing at Kris. Not wanting the night to drag on any longer than it had to, Kyle got out of bed and helped Kris make his bed by handing him his sheets and a new blanket. "Night dude," Kyle told his brother, as he turned off the light and got back into bed himself, pulling up the novel he had been reading. Exhausted from the day, Kris felt himself drifting off to sleep, his worries and fears momentarily forgotten in the embrace of slumber. Chapter 9: New Routines A few days had passed since the family's decision to use night diapers for Kris. The household had settled into a new routine, one that involved Kris needing to greet his mom and siblings downstairs in the morning before he could get changed and take a shower. It was frustrating, needing to ask for his clothes each day as if he couldn't be trusted to clothe himself without trying to hide something. For Kris, these days were a mix of relief and anxiety. The diapers offered a sense of security, knowing he wouldn't wake up in a wet bed. The mornings were particularly challenging for Kris. As he woke up, he would gingerly check his diaper, his heart sinking at the realization that it was wet once again. He would silently curse himself for not being able to control his bladder like a normal kid—a constant reminder of his predicament, a fact that was not lost on his siblings. Kyle and Tammi had toned down their teasing, at least in front of their parents. Still giving Kris a knowing look or smirk on occasions whenever he had to ask for clothes or the topic of his bedwetting came up. On the other hand, Sam kept her promise and never mentioned Kris's diapers to anyone else. He was grateful for her loyalty, even if it didn't completely erase his embarrassment. However, the worst part came when he had to face his family at the breakfast table. He could feel their curious gazes lingering on him, their unspoken question hanging in the air. Was he dry this time? He ignored the whispers and glances, focusing instead on his breakfast. Despite his efforts to ignore it, Kris couldn't escape the sensation of his wet diaper as he sat down to eat breakfast. The crinkle of the diaper seemed louder than ever. Every shift in his seat brought a new awareness of the soggy padding between his legs. As he picked at his food, Kris felt shame and frustration. He hated the way his family tiptoed around the topic of his bedwetting, their sympathy only serving to highlight his embarrassment. He longed for things to return to "normal," to wake up in a dry bed and not worry about diapers or accidents. Across the table, Kris could sense the curious glances of his family, their eyes flickering briefly in his direction before hastily averting their gaze. He knew what they were thinking, even if they didn't say it out loud. He was the diaper boy now, the one who couldn't even control his bladder, just like a baby. After he finished breakfast, Kris sat in the lingering discomfort of his wet diaper, waiting for his siblings to finish eating before he could change. His mom broke the silence, her voice gentle yet tinged with concern. "Kris, how did you sleep, bud?" she asked. Kris shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Fine, I guess," he muttered, not wanting to admit that he'd been able to sleep more soundly through the night. His mom nodded, her expression softening. "That's good to hear. I know this is hard for you, but I'm proud of how you're handling it. You're being really brave." Kris forced a small smile, grateful for her words even as he felt a lump form in his throat. He didn't feel brave; he felt embarrassed and ashamed. But he didn't want to disappoint his mom, so he nodded, silently agreeing. As his siblings finished breakfast and dispersed to start their day, Kris pushed himself away from the table with a heavy sigh. He knew the routine by now: follow Mom to her room, get changed, and try to put on a brave face for another day. With a reluctant shuffle, Kris trailed after his mom, the weight of his soggy pull-up reminding him of his current reality with each step. His heart sank as he entered her room, feeling the familiar mix of embarrassment and resignation wash over him. Kim turned to him with a gentle smile, her eyes full of warmth and understanding. "Let's get you a change of clothes," she said softly, motioning for him to come closer. Kris hesitated momentarily, the knot of shame tightening in his chest. But he knew there was no use fighting it; the sooner he got changed, the sooner he could enjoy the rest of his day. With a resigned nod, he approached his mom, feeling like a little kid again, as she helped him pick out his clothes for the day and directed him toward their bathroom to get cleaned up. Despite the tenderness of his mom's actions, Kris couldn't shake the lingering sense of humiliation that clung to him. Each moment spent in that room felt like an eternity, a reminder of how different his life had become. Before, he would have loved to have story times; now, with his predicament, this room just meant he was a baby needing to rely on his parents. After changing out of his wet pull-up, Kris left his parents' bedroom, trying to shake off the feelings of embarrassment that still clung to him. He was determined to enjoy the day and joined his siblings for some schoolwork. Kris felt a sense of normalcy as they worked through their lessons. Being homeschooled meant he could focus on his studies without the added pressure of dealing with teasing or judgment from classmates outside of his siblings. He was grateful for this small comfort, even as he struggled with his bedwetting. After finishing their schoolwork, their mom gave them some free time, and Kris decided to relax by watching TV with his siblings. As he sat on the couch, the familiar comfort of their family room surrounding him, Kris felt himself beginning to relax. However, as the afternoon wore on, Kris felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. Despite trying to stay awake, he soon found himself dozing off. As Kris dozed off on the couch, his siblings exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of concern and mischief. "I think he's asleep," Kyle whispered, nudging Tammi with his elbow. Tammi raised an eyebrow. "Should we wake him?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Kyle shrugged, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Nah, let him sleep. The last time he fell asleep, he wet himself. Maybe this time, he'll learn his lesson." Tammi stifled a laugh, nodding in agreement. "Yeah, you're right. It's his fault if he wets himself again." Engrossed in the TV show, Sam was oblivious to their whispered conversation. She sat on the floor, eyes glued to the screen, unaware of her siblings' scheming. A few minutes passed, the room filled with the sound of the TV and Kris's soft snores. Suddenly, Kris jolted awake, a look of panic on his face. He felt warm wetness spreading in his crotch and realized with horror that he was wetting himself. Jumping up from the couch, Kris dashed for the bathroom, his siblings' laughter ringing in his ears. He could feel the wetness soaking through his pants, the shame burning hot on his cheeks. With all his might, Kris ran, hoping to make it to the bathroom in time to finish. Kyle and Tammi watched from the couch, their laughter growing louder as Kris hurried away. Sam, finally noticing the commotion, turned to see Kris's retreating figure, confusion clouding her face. "What's going on?" she asked, looking between Kyle and Tammi. "He wet himself again," Kyle said, barely able to contain his amusement. "Looks like he didn't learn his lesson after all." Tammi giggled, shaking her head. "I can't believe he did it again. What a baby." Sam frowned, feeling a pang of sympathy for Kris. "That's not very nice, guys. It's not his fault." Kyle shrugged. "Maybe not, but it's still funny." Tammi and Kyle exchanged a glance before getting up from the couch and following Kris to the bathroom. They stood outside the door, their whispers barely concealed. "He's such a baby," Tammi muttered, rolling her eyes. Kyle chuckled. "I know, right? How hard is it to control your bladder?" Kris was too late. He stood frozen, a trail of pee leading from the bathroom door, dribbles marking his path to where he stood, a growing puddle forming at his feet. Shame washed over him in waves, his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he heard the mocking voices on the other side of the door. "He must really like the smell of urine because he can't go one day without peeing himself!" Kyle teased from the other side of the door. Tammi bursting into laughter only made Kris feel worse about the situation. Why did they have to follow him over, just to tease him? "I can't believe this is happening again," Kris thought, his heart sinking with each passing moment. He knew the teasing would only intensify now. With a heavy sigh, he forced himself into action, his movements robotic as he hurried to clean up the mess. Grabbing a nearby towel, Kris knelt down, wiping up the puddle on the floor with shaky hands. He felt the weight of his wet clothes clinging uncomfortably to his skin as he worked, the humiliation of the situation nearly suffocating him. With each swipe of the towel, he tried to erase the evidence of his latest accident, but the shame lingered, staining him from within. Once the floor was somewhat dry, Kris turned his attention to himself, hastily wiping his legs dry with the towel before discarding it into a growing pile of wet clothes. Wrapping another towel around his waist, he tried to shield himself from the prying eyes of his family, though he knew it was futile. As he stood there, his heart heavy with embarrassment, Kris couldn't help but wonder when this nightmare would end. Outside, Kim noticed the commotion and walked over, her brow furrowed with concern. "What's going on?" she asked, looking at Tammi and Kyle. Kyle smirked. "The baby had another accident," he said mockingly, earning a stern look from Kim. "Kyle!" she said, exasperated by his attitude. Inside the bathroom, Kris's heart sank. He knew there was no way to hide his accident now. He slowly peeled off the towel, ashamed, and looked down at his pants. They were soaked, the wetness clearly visible. Defeated, Kris opened the bathroom door and stepped out, avoiding eye contact with his family. He knew he had to ask his mom for new clothes. There was no way to hide what had happened. Kim's heart ached with frustration as she saw Kris's situation. She knew how embarrassed he must feel. "Come here," she said gently, leading him away from his siblings. Once they were out of earshot, Kim crouched down to Kris's level, her eyes full of compassion. "It's okay, sweetheart," she whispered, wrapping her arms around him. "Accidents happen, and it doesn't make you any less of a big kid." As Kris stood there, his wet pants clinging uncomfortably to his skin, he couldn't hold back the tears any longer. They streamed down his cheeks as he buried his face in his mom's shoulder, his body shaking with the weight of his emotions. "I-I heard them," Kris choked out between sobs. "Kyle and Tammi... t-they were making fun of me. They called me a baby... they said I liked the smell of urine..." Kim's heart clenched at the pain in her son's voice. She held him tighter, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Oh, honey," she murmured, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm so sorry you had to hear that. You're not a baby, sweetheart. You're just going through a tough time, and it's okay to feel upset about it." Kris sniffled, trying to compose himself. "But it hurts, Mom," he whispered, his voice raw with emotion. "It hurts when they say those things..." Kim nodded understandingly, brushing away his tears. "I know, honey. It's not fair, and it's not right for them to tease you like that. You're being so brave, and I'm proud of you. Don't let their words make you feel small." Feeling a surge of protectiveness, Kim made a mental note to have a serious talk with Kevin about Kyle and Tammi's behavior. No sibling should ever make their brother feel ashamed like this. But for now, Kris needed comfort and reassurance. Kim took a deep breath, holding her son at arm's length so she could look him in the eye. "Listen to me," she said firmly, her voice gentle yet firm. "You are loved, you are valued, and you are not alone in this. We're a family, and we stick together, no matter what. If anyone dares to make fun of you again, they'll answer to me. Understand?" Kris nodded, his eyes wide with gratitude. "Th-thank you," he whispered, his voice quivering with emotion. Kim smiled softly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "Anytime, sweetheart. I'm here for you, always." Kim held Kris at arm's length for a moment longer. With a tender smile, she gently nudged him toward the direction of her closet, where his clothes were located. "Go on, sweetheart, get changed." she encouraged him softly. Kris disappeared into his parent's master bathroom for the second time that day. Meanwhile, his mom reached for her phone. She dialed Kevin's number, her mind racing with everything that had transpired. He picked up after the second ring, his voice tight with concern. "Hey, what's going on?" "Kev," Kim began, her voice wavering slightly with emotion. "It's about Kris..." She recounted the distressing events that had unfolded, the hurtful words from Kyle and Tammi, and Kris's tearful reaction. Her anger simmered beneath the surface as she relayed the experience and remembered the words from Kris and his tearful little eyes. By the time she finished, there was a heavy silence on the other end of the line. She could almost feel Kevin's frustration radiating through the phone. "That's it," he said finally. "I've had enough of this. Those kids need to learn some respect, and if they won't listen to reason, then they'll learn it the hard way." Kim's heart skipped a beat at the intensity in her husband's voice. She knew he meant business. "What do you want me to do?" she asked. "Tell them," he replied, his tone unwavering. "Tell them that if they dare to make fun of Kris again, about his diaper, about his accidents, by calling him a baby, or anything along those lines. They'll be facing consequences. And not just any consequences – they'll be wearing diapers themselves. Let's see how they like it." Kim felt a surge of relief wash over her at Kevin's words. It was about time someone put their foot down and stood up for Kris. "I'll talk to them," she promised, her voice firm with determination. "They need to understand that this behavior is unacceptable." Chapter 10: You Were Warned Kim took a deep breath, steeling herself for the conversation she knew she needed to have with her children. With resolve in her heart, she motioned for Kris to join her as she made her way out to the living room. "Kyle, Tammi, Sam," Kim called out, her voice steady but commanding. "Come here, please. We need to talk." The children gathered around. Their mother's serious tone piqued their curiosity. Kyle's eyes widened as he noticed Kris standing beside their mom, a flicker of apprehension crossing his face. "I spoke with dad about what happened." Kim's gaze shifted to Kyle, who squirmed under her gaze. His eyes grew wide, a mixture of nervousness and guilt flashing across his face. He had a sinking feeling that he was about to be in trouble. "I have something important to discuss with all of you," Kim began, her gaze firm as she addressed her children. "We've noticed some behavior towards Kris that is completely unacceptable. Teasing him about his accidents, his diapers—it's hurtful and unfair." Kyle shifted uncomfortably, realizing the gravity of the situation as his mother's words sank in. "Dad and I have decided that enough is enough," Kim continued, her voice unwavering. "Any teasing or making fun of Kris will not be tolerated. And if any of you choose to continue this behavior, there will be consequences." A tense silence filled the room as Kim's words hung in the air. Kris stood beside her, a sense of relief filling him up and refueling his spirit. "Consequences?" Tammi echoed, her brow furrowing in confusion. "Yes," Kim affirmed, her tone resolute. "Your father has made it clear that if any of you continue to tease Kris about his accidents or his diapers, you will be wearing diapers yourselves. It's time to treat your brother with the kindness he deserves." Kyle's eyes widened in disbelief, the weight of his mother's words sinking in. He exchanged a nervous glance with Tammi, realizing that their actions had serious repercussions. "Understood?" Kim asked, her gaze sweeping over her children, her authority unyielding. The siblings nodded solemnly, a newfound understanding dawning on them as they absorbed their mother's words. "Good," Kim said, her voice softening slightly. "Now, I want each of you to return to your studies. We'll discuss this further later." The children nodded, understanding the seriousness of the situation. They dispersed, heading back to the kitchen table to resume their studies. Kim watched them go, a sense of relief washing over her. She hoped that her words had made an impact on them, especially Kyle, who had such a bad habit of embarrassing his younger brother. As the afternoon wore on, the house was filled with the sounds of pencil scratches on paper and the occasional rustle of a textbook page. Kris focused on his work, feeling a sense of ease as his humiliation ended. He knew his siblings' teasing wouldn't stop overnight, but he hoped his parents' intervention would make a difference. After another hour or two of studying, the front door creaked open, and their father's voice filled the house. "I'm home!" Excitedly, the children abandoned their books and rushed to greet their father. Kevin smiled as he was bombarded with hugs and stories about their day. He tousled Kyle's hair and praised Tammi for her progress in math. Sam clung to his leg, chattering away about her drawings. Kim emerged from the kitchen. "Welcome home, dear," she said, kissing Kevin's cheek. "Thanks, honey," Kevin replied, returning her kiss. "Smells like dinner is almost ready." "Just about," Kim confirmed. "Why don't you go wash up? Dinner will be ready soon." Kevin headed to the bathroom to freshen up, and Kim returned to the kitchen to finish preparing dinner. The children chatted excitedly at the table while packing their school supplies, eager to tell their father about their day. Once dinner was ready, they all sat down to eat, the atmosphere light and cheerful. Kevin listened intently as the children recounted their day. Kris felt a sense of peace settle over him as he sat with his family, grateful for the love and support of his parents. As they finished eating, the clinking of utensils against plates gradually subsided, and a comfortable silence settled over the family. Kevin leaned back in his chair, a contented smile gracing his lips as he watched his children chat animatedly about their day. However, amidst the jovial atmosphere, he couldn't shake off the nagging concern that he had to address the incident from earlier. "You know, kids," Kevin began, his tone casual yet tinged with seriousness, "I overheard something earlier today." The room grew quiet as all eyes turned to Kevin, curiosity etched on their faces. Kris's heart skipped a beat, a flush of embarrassment creeping up his cheeks as he realized what his father was about to address. He had hoped his accident earlier would go unnoticed by his dad, but it seemed that wasn't the case. Kevin's gaze swept over his children, his expression solemn. "It seems that some of you were picking on Kris earlier," he continued, his voice steady but firm. "Making fun of him for wetting his pants." A heavy silence descended upon the room, punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Kris's cheeks burned with embarrassment, his gaze fixed on the tabletop as he avoided his father's penetrating stare. He hadn't expected his dad to find out about his accident, let alone address it in front of the entire family. Kevin's eyes softened as he observed Kris's discomfort, a pang of guilt tugging at his heart. He hated seeing his son squirm, knowing that he bore some responsibility for Kris's predicament. Kevin cleared his throat, his tone gentle yet authoritative. "I want to make something very clear," he began, his gaze shifting between his children. "Teasing Kris about his diapers, his bedwetting, having an accident, or anything like that is completely unacceptable." The children listened intently, their expressions a mix of guilt and understanding. "As a consequence," he continued, his voice firm, "if I hear of any more teasing or making fun of Kris, the offender will also be wearing a diaper. Is that understood?" The children nodded, their earlier joviality replaced by a sense of seriousness and respect. "Good," Kevin said, his tone softening. "Now, let's all pitch in and get everything cleaned up from dinner. We've got a movie to watch tonight." As the kids cleaned up the table and the dishes from dinner, Kevin headed to the living room to set up a movie for them all to watch. He rummaged through the movie collection, finally settling on "Spy Kids," a family favorite. In no time, the living room was filled with laughter and excitement as the kids gathered around the TV. They squabbled playfully over who would sit where eventually finding their spots on the couch or sprawled out on the floor. Kevin dimmed the lights, setting the perfect ambiance for a cozy movie night. As the opening credits of "Spy Kids" began to roll, the room was alive with chatter and anticipation. The kids traded playful jabs and teasing remarks, their earlier tension forgotten in the excitement of the movie. Kris felt a sense of relief wash over him as he settled in beside his siblings, grateful for the chance just to be a kid again. The movie played on, and the kids were soon swept up in the action-packed adventures of Juni and Carmen Cortez. They cheered and gasped at all the right moments, their laughter ringing through the room. However, in the scene where Juni calls Carmen a "diaper lady," Kyle makes a fateful mistake. In the midst of their playful banter, he turned to Kris with a mischievous grin and said, "I guess that makes you Carmen, huh Kris?" The room fell silent as Kyle's words hung in the air, the playful atmosphere evaporating in an instant. Kris felt his stomach clench with embarrassment and hurt, his cheeks flushing crimson as all eyes turned to him. Kevin's expression darkened as he glanced between his children, a stern frown marring his features. He had hoped that their earlier conversation would have made an impact, but it seemed that Kyle still had a long way to go in understanding the gravity of his words. "Kyle," Kevin said, his voice low and authoritative. Kyle's grin faltered, his earlier bravado replaced by a look of sheepishness. He glanced down at his lap, suddenly finding the rug pattern incredibly fascinating. "I'm sorry," Kyle mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. Kris met his brother's gaze, seeing the genuine remorse shining in his eyes. Despite the hurtful words, he knew Kyle didn't mean any harm. With a small nod, Kris offered his forgiveness. Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair as he tried to diffuse the tension in the room. "Let's just focus on the movie, okay?" he suggested, his tone gentle yet firm. The kids nodded, their earlier enthusiasm dampened but not extinguished. With a collective effort, they turned their attention back to the TV, immersing themselves once more in the world of "Spy Kids." As the end credits of "Spy Kids" rolled, the room was filled with a somber silence. The kids sat in muted contemplation, the earlier excitement of the movie night now overshadowed by the tension that lingered in the air. Kevin watched his children. His thoughts were weighed down by the realization that his threat hadn't sunken in yet. He knew he needed to address the situation before it escalated further. Sighing, he rose from his seat and motioned for Kyle to follow him. "Kyle, I need to talk to you for a moment," Kevin said, his tone gentle yet firm. Kyle nodded, his expression wary as he followed his father out of the living room and into the hallway. "Listen," Kevin began, his voice low but stern. "I need to talk to you about what happened." Kyle's brow furrowed in confusion, a hint of apprehension creeping into his features. "What do you mean?" "I mean your behavior towards Kris," Kevin clarified, his gaze unwavering. "Teasing him about his accidents and diapers is not okay. Your mom and I have made it clear that this kind of behavior will not be tolerated." Kyle shifted uncomfortably, a sense of guilt gnawing at him. He hadn't realized the impact of his words until now, seeing the disappointment in his father's eyes. "I'm sorry," Kyle said, his voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to hurt Kris. It was just a joke, you know?" Kevin sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I understand that, but thinking about how your words can affect others is important. Kris has been through a tough time, and he needs our support, not our teasing." Kyle nodded, his expression contrite. "I get it. I won't tease him anymore, I promise." "I'm glad to hear that," Kevin said, his tone softening. "But there's something else we need to address. As a consequence of your behavior, you'll wear one of Kris's pull-ups to bed tonight." Kyle's eyes widened in disbelief, a mixture of shock and embarrassment crossing his face. "What? But Dad, it was just a joke! He's fine!" Kevin shook his head, his tone firm. "I'm sorry, dude, but we must follow through. You need to understand the seriousness of your actions. I can't let you just get away with it. What would be the point in that, after what we just talked about at dinner?" Kyle reluctantly nodded, his shoulders slumping in defeat. They head back out to the living room, where Kevin instructs the kids to get ready for bed. The girls went upstairs while Kris headed toward their parents' room to get a pull-up and his pajamas for the night. Kris notices Kyle following him, which makes him feel a little uncomfortable. Kyle doesn't say anything as they wait for their parents in their parents' room. Kris looks at Kyle, unsure of what to say. He knows his brother is probably feeling embarrassed about having to wear a pull-up to bed, but Kris can't help but feel a sense of satisfaction, knowing that Kyle is finally getting a taste of his own medicine. As Kris and Kyle wait in their parents' room, Kris feels a mix of emotions swirling inside him—relief that his parents are taking action against the teasing, the satisfaction that Kyle is finally facing the consequences, but also a twinge of envy that Kyle seems to be treated with more dignity at this moment. His thoughts are interrupted when he notices his mom grabbing two pull-ups from the package and handing one to each of them. Kris's surprise lingers as he takes the pull-up from his mom's hand, his eyes flickering between the diaper in his hand and the one in Kyle's. Before Kris could dwell on his thoughts, his mom interrupted, handing him some pajamas and ushering him off to get changed in their master bathroom. As Kris heads towards the bathroom, he hears his mom's voice directed at Kyle. "Go put it on and go to bed," she instructs her tone firm but not unkind. "You better wear it. I'm trusting you to be responsible. If you're not, there will be worse trouble." Kris can't help but feel a pang of envy as he listens to his mom's words. Despite the embarrassing situation, Kyle is being treated with a level of trust and responsibility that Kris hasn't experienced. It stirs up conflicting emotions within him—on the one hand, he's glad that Kyle is finally facing the consequences for his teasing, but on the other hand, he can't shake off the unfairness of the situation. As Kris changes into his pajamas and pulls on the pull-up, he can't help but wonder how this night will unfold. Will Kyle wear the pull-up to bed? Will their parents follow through with the consequences if he doesn't? And most importantly, will this finally end the teasing once and for all? Chapter 11: This is Unfair As Kris entered the bedroom, he found Kyle already in bed, engrossed in a book. Kris paused, unsure of how to proceed. He glanced at his brother, who looked up from his book, meeting Kris's gaze with a glare. "What?" Kyle snapped, his tone defensive. Kris hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He felt a mix of emotions—anger, hurt, and a lingering sense of satisfaction at Kyle's predicament. He knew he should probably let it go, but the resentment he felt towards his brother was hard to shake. "Nothing," Kris muttered, avoiding Kyle's gaze as he changed into his pajamas. Kyle watched him, his expression unreadable. Kris could sense the tension between them, the unspoken words hanging in the air. He knew he probably shouldn't say anything but was so tempted to. Kris cleared his throat, breaking the heavy silence. "So, uh, how well does the pull-up fit?" he asked, his tone casual but with an underlying tension, wanting to confirm his brother was actually wearing it. Kyle stiffened, his eyes narrowing. "What do you care?" he retorted, his voice tinged with defensiveness. "I was just wondering," Kris replied, trying to keep his tone light. "I mean, it must be pretty uncomfortable, right?" Kyle's voice followed as Kris climbed up the ladder to his bunk bed. "You know, it's a little small. Must be because of all the extra padding they had to use for babies like you." Kris gritted his teeth, his hands tightening on the rungs of the ladder. "Shut up! It's not funny. If anything, it's because of your fat butt." Kyle's laughter echoed in the room. "You're such a baby. Always crying about everything." Frustration bubbled up inside Kris. "At least I don't tattle to Mom and Dad every time you do something wrong, like you do!" Kyle's face darkened, and for a moment, Kris thought he had gone too far. But then Kyle smirked. "Yeah, but at least I don't wet the bed like a toddler." Kris tried to think of a rebuttal, but Kyle wasn't finished. "I can't believe I have to share a room with a baby," he muttered. Kris took a deep breath, trying to control his rising anger. "At least I'm not a slob, like you." he shot back, unable to resist the jab. Kyle fell silent momentarily, and Kris thought he had finally gotten through to him. But then Kyle's voice came again, softer this time. "I'm sorry," he said, his tone surprisingly sincere. "I shouldn't have picked on you as much as I have been." Kris was taken aback by the apology. He hadn't expected it, especially not from Kyle. "It's okay," he replied after a moment, his anger dissipating. "I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have called you fat or a slob." They lay in silence for a few moments, their tension easing. Finally, Kyle spoke again, his voice barely a whisper. "Goodnight." "Goodnight," Kris replied, feeling a sense of peace settle over him as he hopped things changed for the better. As Kris lay in his bed on the top bunk, the events of the day played over and over in his mind like a relentless loop. He couldn't shake off the tension that had built up between him and Kyle, even after their brief truce. The next few nights were just as difficult for Kris. Sure, he managed to get away from anyone teasing him during the day. But his mind was reeling, tumbling with questions that only added to frustration after frustration. How long would that last? Why hadn't Tammi tried to pick on him? Was it because Kyle got in trouble? Did she even know about that? Would Kyle keep his word and lay off the teasing, or was this just a temporary ceasefire before the next round of mockery? And what about Dad's threat to diaper anyone who made fun of Kris? Would he follow through past the one instance with Kyle, or was it just an empty promise meant to scare them into behaving? Unable to sleep, Kris tossed and turned in his bed, night after night, his mind consumed with thoughts of how unfair everything seemed. He couldn't shake off the feeling of injustice within him. Why was he always the one who got called out in front of everyone? Why is it that when Kyle was called out, it was to the side where no one could hear? His sisters probably didn't even know Kyle was in a diaper! Why couldn't Kris have his clothes and the dignity to pick his own outfits? Instead, his parents stowed them away and chose for him. Deciding what he would wear, and when he could get changed. They wouldn't even extend enough trust to let him get changed in his own room, or the shared bathroom, making him use their master bathroom each time. Waiting, on the other side of the door to ensure he was listening to them. Just another nail in the coffin of his dependence on them. He thought back to how his parents had handled the situation with Kyle the night he was diapered. Replaying the events in his head multiple times. They had pulled Kyle aside after he broke their rule about teasing Kris. Kris couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. He didn't even know Kyle was getting diapered that night until he followed him to his parent's bedroom and got handed a pull-up. Why didn't he get the same level of consideration and trust from his parents? Why did Kyle seem to get special treatment? Kris's frustration grew as he dwelled on these thoughts. He resented asking for new pants and underwear every day, knowing none of his other siblings would have to deal with the same humiliation. He hated having to sit in his wet diaper first thing in the morning, feeling the discomfort and shame gnawing at him, just waiting for his parents to finally give him the dignity he deserved. Kris felt his spirit deflate as he woke up each morning in a wet pull-up. The discomfort and shame gnawed at him, a continual reminder of his situation. He couldn't help but think back to the one morning he woke up and found his pull-up had leaked. The embarrassment and humiliation flooded back as he recalled the wet sheets and the disappointed look on his mother's face. He wanted so badly to hide it from everyone, but in the end, he knew he stood no chance with all his clothes downstairs in his parent's room. He felt like he was failing. His parents tried to be understanding, but Kris could see the disappointment in their eyes. He knew they were trying to help him, but their attempts only made him feel more inadequate. He resented relying on them for everything, from changing in the morning to choosing his clothes for the day. He longed for the independence he once had, the freedom to be himself without fear of judgment or ridicule. Amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, a glimmer of hope flickered to life. Maybe, just maybe, things would get better. Maybe Kyle would keep his word, Dad would enforce his ultimatum, and Kris could finally find indifference to his situation. However, nothing over these last several days had pushed anyone to the point of needing to be punished with his dad's threat. As the days dragged on, Kris knew the likelihood of his dad keeping with what he said and punishing those who teased him grew less and less likely. Chapter 12: Packing List Two weeks had passed since the incident that changed everything for Kris. In that time, he had grown accustomed to his nightly routine of wearing diapers to bed, though the discomfort and embarrassment still lingered. Waking up in a wet pull-up every morning made him feel so small. It was as if he was a toddler who couldn't control themselves. Needing to wait until after breakfast before he could get changed only added to his humiliation. What was the point in that anyway? At least the one morning when his pull-up had leaked, and he had to come down in wet pants, he could change before they ate breakfast. All of that was behind him now. Now they were packing for Disney World! There was nothing that could ruin it for him. Except, as Kris stood before his dresser, sorting through his clothes for the trip, Kris couldn't help but feel belittled yet again that he needed to ask for his clothes so he could make sure they were packed. As Kris approaches his parents to ask for his clothes, he feels a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. Hesitating at their bedroom doorway, trying to summon the courage to speak up. Finally, he clears his throat and steps forward. "Mom, Dad," Kris begins, his voice barely above a whisper. "Um, can I have my clothes back? I need to pack for the trip." Kim looks up from where she's folding laundry, her expression softening at the sight of her son. "Of course, sweetheart," she says gently. "They're in the closet. Grab whatever you need." Kris nods, relief flooding through him as he heads toward the closet. But just as he reaches for his clothes, Kevin interjects, his tone tinged with frustration. "Before you pack, I want you to take this," Kevin says, holding out a pack of pull-ups. "You need to bring these with you." Kris's heart sinks as he takes the pack from his dad. He had hoped to avoid this situation. "Do I have to?" Kris asks, trying to keep his voice steady. Kevin sighs, his frustration evident. "You know you do. We can't risk any accidents during the trip. Just take them and pack them in your suitcase." Feeling defeated, Kris takes the pack of pull-ups and his clothes back to his room to pack. He's grateful his parents are trusting him for a change to do something on his own, like packing for the trip. If someone else were doing it, he would be mortified to see what was packed once they arrived. But at least this way, he knows he'll have clothes he likes and actual underwear to wear during the day. As he re-enters the room, Kyle notices the pack of pull-ups in Kris's hand. "What's that?" Kyle asks, a smirk forming on his face. "Are those diapers for the baby?" Kris feels his face flush with embarrassment as he sets the package on his bed. "No, they're pull-ups, and they're for me," he mumbles while avoiding Kyle's gaze. "For you?" Kyle laughs, his voice dripping with mockery. "You're going to wear diapers to Disney World? That's so lame!" "It's not like I want to wear them!" Kris retorts, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "I have to wear them because of you!" "Because of me?" Kyle scoffs. "How is this my fault?" "If you hadn't told Dad about my accident, I wouldn't need these pull-up!" Kris snaps, his anger flaring. Kyle's smirk fades, replaced by a look of guilt. "I didn't think you'd end up in diapers," he says quietly. "Well, I did," Kris replies, tears filling his eyes. "And it's not fair!" "Hey, the good news is you should fly for free now, being a baby, after all." Kyle's attempt at humor fell flat as Kris's expression hardened. Kyle's attempt at humor cuts deep, his words twisting the knife of Kris's raw emotions. Feeling a surge of anger and hurt, his words began tumbling out before he could stop them. "You're just jealous because you don't get the attention anymore! You're nothing but a stupid, selfish bully!" Kyle's face contorts with shock and anger. "I'm the bully?" he shouts, hurt evident in his voice. "You're the one who's always crying and making everything about you! You're such a baby!" Kris's hand trembles with anger as he balls it into a fist. Mad that his brother kept calling him a baby. Figures Kris was right to suspect that his brother wouldn't keep his word. Without thinking, he swings, connecting with his brother's arm. Kyle winces, more from surprise than pain, as his words echo in the tense silence. "I'm not a baby!" Kris shouts, tears streaking down his cheeks. "I hate you!" Without another word, Kris turned and stormed out of their room. Stunned by his brother's actions, Kyle lets what just occurred sink in, and shock quickly turns to anger. "How dare he hit him!? How could he even begin to blame him for the predicament he's in? He is acting like a toddler throwing a tantrum! I bet he is going to go tattle on me, to try and get me in a stupid diaper again! I'll show him! If he wants to get me to wear a diaper, I'll make him wear them the whole trip. Show him who the baby really is!" Kyle thinks to himself. Fueled by anger, Kyle storms over to his brother's suitcase and unzips it. Without hesitation, he removes all of Kris's underwear. Tucking them under the bottom drawer of their dresser, knowing full well no one would find them until returning from Disney World. In his mind, Kris deserves this. He deserves to be treated like a baby since he can't act any better than a dramatic toddler. Kyle's anger simmers as he carries out his plan with cold determination. He takes Kris's suitcase downstairs, carefully concealing his actions from the rest of the family. With a sense of vindication, he hands the suitcase to his dad, who loads it into the car without suspecting a thing. Meanwhile, Instead of tattling on his brother, Kris opted to sit in the car playing on his handheld gaming console. He feared retaliation from his brother and getting tattled on himself for hitting his brother. Which he knew his parents found unacceptable, no matter what the reason was. Wanting to drown out the world, Kris sat there with his headphones firmly in place, attempting to block out the family, not wanting to get teased by anyone else or cause any more arguments. He was completely unaware of Kyle's schemes, forgetting about his suitcase entirely. Kim notices Kris is in the car, absorbed in his handheld, and taps on the window to get his attention. Kris, startled, looks up and removes his headphones. "Hey, bud," Kim says gently, "are you wearing a diaper?" Kris's cheeks flush crimson, embarrassment overwhelming him at his mom's question. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, avoiding her gaze. "Um, no," he mumbles, his voice barely audible. Kim nods understandingly. "I think putting one on for the flight would be a good idea. It's going to be long, and you might fall asleep. We don't want any accidents, do we?" Kris shakes his head, his embarrassment deepening. "No, we don't," he replies, sounding slightly defeated, as his self-esteem deflates slightly. Kris's cheeks burn with embarrassment as he shifts in his seat, avoiding his mom's gaze. "But, Mom," he begins, his voice barely above a whisper, "I don't want to wear a pull-up on the plane. Can't I just use the bathroom before we board?" Kim's expression softens as she gently squeezes Kris's hand. "I know this is hard for you, honey," she says softly, "but it's just for the flight. We don't want any accidents to happen, especially so high up in the air. Where you can't get to a clean pair of clothes, no less. Please, for me?" "I...I already packed the pull-ups," Kris says, his voice barely above a whisper. "They're in my suitcase. I think I may have left it in my room." He glances back toward the trunk of the car, where their suitcases are neatly packed away. To his surprise, he sees his own suitcase already nestled among the others, the zipper securely closed. "Actually," Kris says, his brow furrowing in confusion, "my suitcase is already in the car." Kim nods, her expression sympathetic. "I understand. That was a new pack, we still have an open one in our room." Offering him a reassuring smile before motioning for him to follow her. "Come on, let's go get one for you." Kris nods, his heart heavy with embarrassment and frustration. He reluctantly follows his mom back into the house, wishing he didn't need to wear it. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to protest further, to run back to the car and ignore his mother's pleas, but there was nothing he could do. No one at this point would side with him, not with as many accidents he has had. Even a short nap wasn't safe from wetting himself. As they entered his parent's room, Kris couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness at the sight of the open package of diapers sitting on top of their dresser. He hates the reminder of his vulnerability, the constant need for protection from something as basic as using the bathroom on time. Kim reaches for a diaper, her touch gentle as she holds it out to Kris. "Here you go, sweetheart," she says softly. "I know it's not easy, but it's just for the flight." Kris takes the pull-up from his mom, his fingers trembling slightly as he holds it. With a heavy sigh, he heads toward the master bathroom, his heart sinking with each step. He hates this feeling of helplessness and inability to control his body. Entering the bathroom, Kris closes the door, shutting out the world outside. He stands in front of the mirror, his reflection staring back at him with resignation and frustration. With shaky hands, he begins to undress, peeling off his pants and underwear. He hesitates as he reaches for the pull-up, his fingers hovering over the soft material. He didn't want to wear this on the plane. But what choice does he have? He can't risk having an accident on the plane, and he can't risk further embarrassment in front of his family, let alone strangers! With a heavy heart, Kris finally gathers the courage to put on the pull-up, sliding it up his legs and securing it in place. The familiar feeling of shame washes over him as he adjusts the pull-up, the crinkling sound echoing loudly in the silence of the bathroom. Once the pull-up is on, Kris takes a deep breath, trying to steel himself for what lies ahead. He knows this won't be easy, knows he'll have to face the mocking stares and whispered taunts of his siblings on the plane. But he also knows he has to do this. With one last glance in the mirror, Kris pulls back up his pants, opens the bathroom door, and steps out to meet his mom. As Kris exits the master bathroom, Kim notices the slight outline around his waistline, indicating the diaper underneath his pants. Concern etches across her face, but she approaches the situation delicately. "Kris, sweetie, are you wearing the diaper?" Kim asks gently, her voice laced with empathy. Kris's cheeks flush with embarrassment as he nods sheepishly, unable to meet his mother's gaze. He feels humiliated at the thought of his mom asking, as if she did not believe he would put it on. "Um, yeah," he mumbles, his voice barely audible. Kim's heart aches for her son, seeing the turmoil he's going through. Wanting to help ease his discomfort, she gestures for him to come closer. With a reassuring smile, she kneels down in front of him, her hands instinctively reaching for the waistband of his pants. "Let me adjust your pants a bit, sweetie," Kim says softly, her touch gentle as she tries to conceal the outline of the diaper discreetly. Kris feels a mixture of mortification and gratitude as his mom tries to help him, not realizing her actions only intensify his embarrassment. He stands frozen, his cheeks burning with shame as he watches his mom's futile attempts to hide the pull-up. Despite Kim's efforts, the diaper remains noticeable beneath Kris's pants, a constant reminder of his vulnerability. Kris's stomach churns with unease, wishing he could disappear into thin air and escape. Sensing Kris's discomfort, she offers him a gentle smile. "There, that's better," she says reassuringly, though she knows it's not. Kris forces a weak smile, his heart heavy with humiliation. "Thanks, Mom," he murmurs, his voice tinged with resignation and defeat. Kim rises to her feet, her heart heavy with worry for her son. She wishes she could take away his pain and make everything better, but she knows it's not that simple. All she can do is offer him love and support as he navigates this challenging journey. With a gentle pat on Kris's shoulder, Kim leads him out of the bedroom and back toward the car, determined to make the best of their Disney World trip despite his problem. As Kris and his mom walk out to the car, Kris can't help but notice the crinkling sound with each step. He can sense his siblings' eyes on him, their silent judgment hanging heavy in the air. Kris's face burns with embarrassment as he climbs into his booster seat, the outline of his pull-up visible through his pants. Without a word, everyone else piles into the car. As the car pulls from the driveway, Kris tries to focus on the passing scenery, but his mind is consumed with thoughts of his pull-up and what his siblings must be thinking. He can't shake the feeling of shame that continues to wash over him, battering him like the constant waves on the shore, a continuous reminder of his bedwetting problems. In the front seat, Kim glances back at Kris, her heart breaking at seeing her son's distress. Feeling his isolation and exposure, his secret now on display for everyone to see. The car ride is tense, the atmosphere thick with unspoken drama. Kris's siblings exchange knowing glances, their eyes lingering on Kris with amusement. Kris tried to shrink into his seat, wishing he could disappear, hoping no one else would bring attention to his problem. Finally, they arrive at the airport, and Kris's anxiety reaches a peak. He knows he'll have to pass through security, where his pull-up may likely be detected by the scanners. The thought fills him with dread, and he can feel the panic rising. Chapter 13: First Flight Kris's excitement for the upcoming trip to Disney World was evident as he stood in line with his family at the airport check-in counter. The vibrant colors of the terminal buzzed around him, and he bounced on the balls of his feet, unable to contain his anticipation. Today was the day they were finally going on their adventure. His parents stood in front of him, their voices filled with cheerful chatter as they conversed with the airline attendant. Behind them, Tammi and Sam whispered excitedly to each other, their eyes wide with wonder at the prospect of meeting their favorite characters. But amid the hustle and bustle of the airport, Kris couldn't shake the gnawing feeling of unease in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't just the nerves of flying for the first time or the thrill of visiting the happiest place on earth that made him fidgety. No, it was something else entirely. As his parents handed over their suitcases to be checked in, Kris glanced around anxiously, searching for something he couldn't quite put his finger on. Then it hit him. He needs to go through security. While his parents handed over their suitcases, Kris couldn't help but notice the security checkpoint nearby. People were going through the scanner, and some were being moved to the side for a pat-down. A shiver ran down Kris's spine as he imagined himself in that position, worried that they might notice his diaper. He glanced around anxiously, hoping no one would pay attention to him. His heart raced as he tried to keep calm, but the fear of being embarrassed in front of so many people gnawed at him. 'Kris, is everything okay?' his mother's voice brought him back to reality. 'Yeah, yeah, I'm fine,' Kris replied quickly, forcing a smile. As they approached the security checkpoint, Kris's heart pounded like a drum in his chest, each beat echoing louder in his ears. He watched his family members pass through the scanner ahead of him, each seemingly carefree and unaware of the storm raging within him. Relief floods through Kris when he realizes they don't have any carry-on bags to be inspected—no diapers to be revealed. Still, the fear of getting caught wearing a diaper lingers in the back of his mind. As they inch closer to the security scanner, Kris's palms grow clammy, and he swallows hard, trying to quell the rising panic. His eyes dart around nervously, half-expecting someone to notice the telltale bulkiness of his diaper beneath his clothes. Finally, it was his turn. Kris stepped forward, his legs feeling like jelly beneath him, and he raised his trembling hands above his head as instructed. The scanner beeped, and his heart skipped a beat. A security officer motioned for him to step aside for further screening, and Kris's stomach churned with dread. Kris followed the officer to the side, feeling like all eyes were on him. His cheeks burned with humiliation as he realized what was happening. The security officer began a gentle but thorough pat-down, his gloved hands brushing against Kris's diaper with a feather-light touch. Kris closed his eyes, trying to block out the sensation of exposure and vulnerability. He wished he could disappear, vanish into thin air, and escape this moment of mortification. The TSA agent's soothing voice offered little comfort as he explained each step of the procedure, but Kris was too embarrassed to truly listen. Through half-closed eyes, Kris stole a glance at his family. They stood on the other side of the security checkpoint, waiting patiently, or so it seemed. He could see the subtle curve of his sibling's lips that barely contained laughter dancing in their eyes. They were snickering! The realization hit Kris like a sledgehammer to the gut. They knew. They all knew about his diaper, about his shameful secret. His cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of crimson, and he fought back the sting of tears threatening to spill. The TSA agent's voice broke through Kris's thoughts, pulling him back to the present. "All set, buddy. You did great," the agent said with a reassuring smile. Kris blinked, surprised by the agent's kind words. He glanced at his family, expecting to see mocking smiles or looks of pity, but instead, he saw genuine smiles of encouragement. Even Kyle's usual smirk was replaced by a nod of approval. Finally, the pat-down was over, and Kris could rejoin his family. Feeling relief, Kris managed a weak smile and thanked the TSA agent before hurrying to catch up with his family. As he joined them, his mother enveloped him in a warm hug. 'You did amazing,' she whispered, squeezing him tight. He was still embarrassed that he had to go through that but grateful he didn't get exposed in such a public place. Astonishment hit Kris as they gathered their things and walked to their gate. No one said a word about the incident. His parents were encouraging, Acting like it was no big deal. Even his siblings, who had been giggling just moments before, now wore masks of innocence, their laughter silenced. Kris couldn't understand it. How could they know and yet say nothing? Were they playing some cruel joke on him, waiting for the perfect moment to pounce? Or were they simply too wrapped up in their own excitement for the trip to notice? As the family made their way to the gate, Kris couldn't shake the unease lingering from the security checkpoint. His bladder felt slightly full, but he resisted the urge to use the airport restroom until they got where they needed to go. Since an unpleasant encounter in a public bathroom when he was younger, Kris avoided using them whenever possible. He preferred to wait until he got home or to a familiar place where he felt more comfortable. However, as they reached their gate, Kris realized he couldn't hold it for the whole flight. He tugged at his dad's sleeve, trying to get his attention. "Dad, I need to use the restroom," Kris whispered, hoping his family wouldn't overhear. Kevin glanced down at him. "Sure. Let's go." Kris followed his dad to the nearest restroom, his heart pounding with anxiety. The memories of past taunts and jeers echoed in his mind, making him hesitant to enter. But he knew he had no choice. Taking a deep breath, Kris entered the restroom, his dad waiting just outside. He quickly found an empty stall and locked the door, grateful for its privacy. As he relieved himself, he tried to push aside the memories and focus on the present. As he finished and stepped out of the stall, he noticed a line of guys waiting for their turn. Kris felt a pang of embarrassment, realizing he had taken up a stall when others were waiting. He hurried over to the sink, avoiding eye contact with anyone in line. As Kris hurriedly washed his hands at the sink, trying to avoid eye contact with the line of guys waiting for stalls, he felt the weight of anxiety pressing down on him like a lead blanket. His heart raced as he fumbled with the soap dispenser, his movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Out of the corner of his eye, Kris caught a glimpse of movement and glanced up at the mirror. His breath caught in his throat as he saw a boy in line, about the same age as Kyle, pointing in his direction, his expression a mix of curiosity and amusement. Panic surged through Kris like an electric shock, sending shivers down his spine. He quickly averted his gaze, cheeks burning with embarrassment as he realized his pull-up was visible to everyone behind him. How could he have been so careless? Frantically, Kris tugged at the hem of his shirt, getting it wet from the hands he was washing, trying to cover up the telltale bulge of his diaper. But it was too late. The damage had been done, and he could feel the weight of their stares bearing down on him like a heavy burden. Feeling exposed and vulnerable, Kris's hands trembled as he reached for a paper towel to dry them. Each movement felt like an eternity; his senses heightened and on edge. He couldn't shake the feeling of being watched, scrutinized for his perceived weakness and shame. As he finally finished drying his hands, Kris dared to steal another glance at the mirror. The boy in line was still staring at him, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. Kris's stomach churned with a mixture of humiliation and resentment. As Kris rushed out of the bathroom, his heart still pounding with embarrassment, he found his dad waiting for him just outside, a reassuring smile on his face. "Good, bud?" his dad asks, concern evident in his tone. Kris nods quickly, forcing a smile to mask his discomfort. "Yeah, I'm good," he mumbles, avoiding his dad's gaze. Together, they return to the gate where the rest of the family awaits. Kris sits next to Tammi, his fingers tapping nervously on the armrest as he tries to distract himself from the lingering embarrassment. Pulling out his handheld console, Kris immerses himself in the digital world, his mind seeking solace in the familiar sights and sounds of his favorite game. But even as he loses himself in the virtual adventure, he can't shake the memory of the boy in the restroom; the mocking smirk etched in his mind like a scar. Minutes pass in a blur as Kris tries to lose himself in the game, but a sudden screech of laughter catches his attention. He looks up to see the same boy from the restroom sitting just a few seats away with his family. The boy is engaged in animated conversation with his siblings, his laughter ringing out loud and clear in the bustling terminal. Each of them looks shocked and amused, their eyes darting from their brother to Kris and back with barely concealed amusement but concern from getting caught looking at him. Panic grips Kris's chest as he assumes the worst, his mind racing with thoughts of ridicule and mockery. But before he can dwell on it any further, an announcement blares over the PA system, signaling that it's time to board the plane. As Kris and his family line up to board the plane, his heart sinks a little as he sees the other boy and his family getting up to board the same plane. He tries to keep his head down, hoping to avoid further embarrassment. As they make their way down the narrow aisle of the plane, he can't help but feel self-conscious, hoping no one else will notice his diaper. He quickly finds his seat and settles in, trying to focus on the excitement of the trip rather than his embarrassment. He watches out of the corner of his eye as the other family passes by; the boy seems oblivious to him, then suddenly does a double take, shooting him a smirk as he passes. Kris felt a knot form in his stomach, but he brushed it off. He knows he can't let this random boy's thoughts ruin his trip. Taking a deep breath, he closes his eyes and tries to relax as the plane prepares for takeoff. Chapter 14: Trouble at 30k Feet The steady hum of the airplane engines filled the cabin as Kris settled into his seat, trying to push aside the lingering embarrassment from the restroom incident. He glanced out of the window from his middle seat, watching as the ground gradually fell away beneath them, feeling the G-forces for the first time, noting the weird sensations across his body. As the plane rose higher and higher, he could feel the air shift and the odd sensations easing up as the vast expanse of the blue sky came into sight. Beside him, in the aisle seat, his mother sat, her comforting presence a soothing calm to his nerves. She smiled reassuringly at him, her eyes filled with warmth. Kris couldn't help but feel grateful for her support, even if she was the one who suggested he wear a diaper while on the flight. He could feel the plane leveling out a few minutes in as they reached cruising altitude. The seat belt sign came off, notifying passengers that they were free to move about. Bored, Kris pulled out his handheld to help pass the time, and Kyle, who sat to his right with the window seat, did the same. After an hour or two of flying, Kris started to feel thirsty. He turned to his mom and asked, "Mom, do we have anything to drink?" Kim glanced at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, bud, we didn't bring any drinks with us. But I think the flight attendants will be coming around soon with beverages. You can ask them for something to drink." Sure enough, the flight attendants began their rounds a few moments later, pushing their carts down the narrow aisle. Kris waited patiently for them to reach his row, feeling excited. When the cart finally arrived, a flight attendant looked over to their row, her smile bright and welcoming. 'Would you like something to drink?' she asked, cheerful. Kris nodded eagerly. "Can I have an apple juice, please?" Kim signaled to the flight attendant, who nodded and reached for a chilled bottle of apple juice from the cart. She poured a generous amount into a plastic cup before handing it to Kris with a warm smile. "Here you go, sweetie. Enjoy," she said kindly before moving on to the next row of seats. Kris accepted the cup gratefully, taking a sip of the cool, refreshing liquid. As he sipped on the refreshing drink, Kris tried to focus on the excitement of the trip and push aside the embarrassment of wearing a diaper. He glanced out of the window again, over Kyle's console, marveling at the vastness of the sky and the beauty of the world below. Despite everything, he was determined to make the most of this experience and enjoy every moment of their family vacation. Kris continued to sip his apple juice and play his game. He gradually lost track of time, engrossed in the digital world unfolding on the screen in front of him. An hour passed in a blur of animated characters and bright colors, the steady drone of the airplane engines fading into the background. But as another hour ticked by, Kris felt pressure starting to build up in his lower abdomen. It was a familiar feeling he had experienced many times before—a sign that he needed to use the restroom. Kris took another sip of his apple juice, trying to distract himself from the growing discomfort in his abdomen. He glanced at his mom, who was engrossed in a magazine and hesitated before speaking up. "Mom, how much longer until we land?" he asked, his voice tinged with uncertainty. Kim glanced at her watch before looking back at Kris. "About an hour and a half, honey. Why? Do you need to use the restroom?" Kris felt a wave of panic wash over him. He knew he should probably use the restroom, but the thought of walking down the narrow aisle in his diaper filled him with dread. He shook his head, forcing a smile. "No, I'm okay. I can wait." Kim raised an eyebrow but didn't press the issue. "Alright, just let me know if you change your mind." Kris nodded, turning his attention back to his handheld. He tried to focus on the game he was playing, but the pressure in his abdomen was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. He shifted in his seat, trying to find a more comfortable position, but it was useless. Kris's discomfort grew as the minutes ticked by, but he was determined not to use the restroom. He glanced at his siblings, who were all engrossed in their own activities, unaware of his predicament. He felt a pang of envy, wishing he could be carefree like them. As the captain's voice crackled over the intercom, announcing they would begin their descent shortly, Kris felt relief, knowing they would be landing soon. He glanced out of the window, noticing the change in altitude as the plane started its gradual descent. But as the plane descended, Kris felt the pressure in his abdomen intensify. He tried to ignore it, focusing on the game in his hands, but the discomfort was becoming unbearable. As the pressure in his abdomen continued to mount, Kris's anxiety heightened. He clenched his teeth, determined to hold on until they landed. But with each passing minute, the discomfort grew more unbearable. He shifted in his seat, trying to alleviate the pressure, but it only seemed to worsen. "M-Mom," Kris stammered, his voice shaky with desperation. "H-How long until we land?" Kim glanced at him, concern etching her features as she noticed his distress. "Not long, honey. Just a few more minutes." "C-Can I please get up to use the restroom now?" Kris stammered, his voice shaky with urgency. Kim looked at him, concern deepening as she observed his distress. She reached out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry, honey," she said gently. "But the seatbelt sign is on now, and we're beginning our descent. You'll have to wait until we land." Kris's heart sank at her words, a sinking feeling of dread settling in his stomach. He clenched his fists, trying to suppress the rising panic threatening to overwhelm him. With each passing moment, the pressure in his abdomen grew more unbearable. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to hold on a little longer. He tried to distract himself, looking out the window at the passing clouds, but the discomfort was overwhelming. He shifted in his seat again, feeling the pressure in his abdomen reaching a critical point. Panic surged through him as he realized he might not be able to hold on much longer. Desperate, Kris tried to push up on his seat with his hands, hoping to relieve some of the pressure. But just as he did, he heard a loud, unmistakable sound—a sound that made his heart sink, and his cheeks burn with shame. Squelch... pfft... plop Kris's eyes widened in horror as he felt a heavy weight pushing down in his diaper, warmth spreading rapidly. He froze, unable to comprehend how he had let this happen. Beside him, Kyle looked up from his game, his eyes widening in shock as he realized what had occurred. He turned to Kim, his voice filled with disbelief. "Mom did Kris just..." Kim's eyes widened as she turned to Kris, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. "Kris, did you...?" Kris shook his head, his face burning with embarrassment. "I-I don't know what happened," he mumbled, unable to meet his mother's gaze. "I-I didn't mean to..." Kim's expression softened as she reached out to comfort him, but Kris pulled away, mortified by what had just transpired. He sat back in his seat, feeling the mess squish against him, the smell wafting up to his nose. He wanted to disappear, to escape this humiliating moment, but he was trapped, unable to leave his seat due to the seat belt sign. Tears welled up in Kris's eyes as he realized the extent of his embarrassment. He had just pooped his diaper on a crowded airplane in front of his entire family and several strangers. He felt shame unlike anything he had ever experienced, and he knew that this moment would haunt him forever. As the plane continued its descent, the smell of Kris's accident began circulating in the cabin. Kris felt his face burn with shame as he realized everyone could smell what had happened. He hunched over in his seat, trying to make himself smaller, wishing he could disappear. Every movement sent shivers down his spine as the mess squished and oozed under him. A few rows back, Kris heard a familiar voice—the boy from the restroom, the one who had seen his diaper. "I bet it's the diaper boy from the bathroom who pooped," the voice spoke loud enough for Kris to hear. He felt a fresh wave of humiliation wash over him, knowing that the boy was talking about him. Around him, Kris could hear murmurs and complaints from other passengers. Some were complaining about the smell, wrinkling their noses in disgust. "What's that smell?" one person complained. "It's disgusting," another voice chimed in. "Why do we always have to sit near a baby who poops?" someone else grumbled. Kris's cheeks burned with shame as he listened to the complaints. He wanted to sink into his seat and disappear, to escape the judging gazes and the whispers. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, but he blinked them back, refusing to let them fall. Beside him, Kyle shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his expression a mixture of embarrassment and sympathy. Kim leaned closer to Kris, speaking in a soft, soothing voice. "It's okay," she said gently. "Accidents happen, and it's nothing to be ashamed of. We'll be landing soon, and then we can get you cleaned up, alright?" forgetting that she had no way of doing so. Kris nodded, grateful for his mom. He knew she was trying to make him feel better, but the shame and embarrassment lingered. He closed his eyes, waiting for the minutes to pass so he could escape this humiliating ordeal. As the plane finally touched down and taxied to the gate, Kris felt a sense of relief wash over him. He couldn't wait to get off the plane and away from the prying eyes and judgmental whispers. As soon as the seatbelt sign turned off, Kris unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up, eager to escape. As Kris stood up from his seat, the urge to pee hit him with a vengeance. His bladder felt like it was about to burst, and he knew he couldn't hold it any longer. He glanced around frantically, panic rising within him as he realized the humiliating situation he was in. With a deep sense of shame already engulfing him from his recent accident, Kris made a split-second decision. He knew he was already in a dirty diaper, and with the passengers beginning to gather their belongings and make their way off the plane, he felt what's the difference at this point if he used the bathroom or his already soiled pull-up. At that moment, Kris decided to let go, allowing himself to release the pent-up urine into his already soiled diaper. He felt a rush of warmth spreading throughout the diaper as it became increasingly heavy and sagged noticeably. The feeling was both comfortable and mortifying, but Kris couldn't bring himself to care anymore in his overwhelmed state. As Kim gathered her belongings and prepared to exit the plane, Kris couldn't help but notice the stares from several passengers. Some looked disgusted, their noses wrinkling in distaste at the smell emanating from his soiled diaper. A few teenage girls giggled behind their hands, casting mocking glances in his direction, while a group of boys burst out into laughter, their eyes alight with amusement. The boy from the restroom, the one who had seen Kris's diaper earlier, stared at him with a knowing look, nudging his family members as if to say, "I told you so." Kris felt a surge of humiliation wash over him, his cheeks burning with shame as he realized just how visible his predicament was to everyone around him. As Kris waddled off the plane, his diaper heavy and sagging, he felt the weight of his humiliation pressing down on him with each step. His siblings glanced at him, some with pity, others with amusement, but none dared to speak up as they followed their parents through the crowded airport terminal. Kris couldn't bear the stares from the other travelers, their judgmental eyes boring into him like daggers. He kept his gaze fixed on the floor, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he shuffled along, feeling every squish and squelch of his soaked diaper. "Mom," Kris whispered, tugging at Kim's sleeve as they reached the gate. "Can we please go get cleaned up?" Kim's heart sank as she looked down at her son, his face flushed with shame. She glanced around frantically, realizing they didn't have any spare clothes or diapers with them. They hadn't brought carry-ons, and their luggage was being forwarded to the hotel. "Oh, Kris," Kim murmured, her voice filled with regret. "I'm so sorry, sweetheart. We don't have anything with us right now." Kris's eyes widened in dismay, his heart sinking even further as the reality of their situation sank in. He felt exposed, vulnerable, and utterly humiliated, standing there in the middle of the bustling airport terminal with his dirty diaper on display for everyone to see.

Well, here goes nothing. I have posted on ABDL sites before but I don't think my heart was really in those stories. That has changed now, this story is one that I have put plenty of work into and I am finally ready to test it out on a real audience. I have a few chapters ready in the coming weeks but, based on how things go I hope to move to a regular schedule as I have lots of plans! Note regarding grammar, well I am terrible at it. I don't have an editor and rely mainly on re-reads and free web grammar checks so, don't judge me too bad, ha! Hope you Enjoy! ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ The sound of a flip-flop smacking the bottom of a foot and the ground in an annoying, repetitive beat filled the car as they approached their destination. “Tara, stop that!” her mother spoke sharply. Tara leaned up from the clenched position she was in at the back of the van and pressed her foot down hard to stop the tapping. She had been holding back her bladder for the better part of the trip. The freeway separating Tara’s house from her mother’s best friend was legendary. She had been holding back the two colas she had pounded at lunch and was thankful the end was nearly in sight. “I keep telling you it's not healthy for you to keep doing this to yourself; I thought we were past this.” Diane continued. In her current condition, Tara couldn’t help but agree with her. Ever since she was little, she had issues with bathroom breaks. As a small child, she was potty trained early, but that did not stop her from constantly having accidents. Her mom always said she had her ‘head in the clouds’; she would be so focused on something that nothing else would matter… nothing. As she grew older, Tara continued to have accidents that would go up and down in frequency. When she started school, she earned the unpleasant nickname ‘Tinkle Tara’. Between accidents and a bout with bedwetting when she was 7 and 9 years old, it looked like she was doomed to it. However, for whatever reason, a switch had flipped, and it had been nearly 8 years since ‘Tinkle Tara’ was uttered. On the other hand, in the last few months, Tara has been putting her bathroom training through the ringer. Time after time, she found herself holding her bladder and aching from the effort. Whether it was at the mall, watching a movie, or sitting through classes, the urge to go was becoming more frequent and urgent each time. She had not told her mother that she almost always felt the need to go ‘right now’ whenever she had to pee. It never helped matters that her mother was a health nut and had drilled into her to keep hydrated, so she always was drinking water. It was a habit, but then again, it was only in the last few months that things started to go sideways. Now Tara was also going to be playing ‘big sister/babysitter’ to a 10 year old. Her mother and Brittany’s, had been friends since High School and now work for the same company. Both had been married and are now divorced. With lucrative jobs and a daughter, they were about as close as any family member. So when they both were chosen to go overseas to be in charge of operations in a new business move for the company, they quickly decided the plan. As Tara was 18, she would watch and take care of Britteny until the two mothers got back, which would be around the beginning of the summer. “Now remember, you have to be in charge of Brittany and keep up with your school work. Those are the two most important things,” her mother said, for about the hundredth time. “Mom, I know. I have hung out with Brittany plenty of times before,” Tara countered. “Not for this long and with this many responsibilities. Plus, Cathrine has… Well something else that you are going to have to keep track of,” her mom finished. “Oh?” the girl raised her eyebrow. “She will tell you,” her mother said giving her a look that said, this is serious. As the van pulled into the garage of Cathrine and Brittany’s home, Tara shot like a bullet out the door into the house. Catherine was blurred as she shot for the bathroom in the room she usually stayed in on the second floor. Scrambling through the door, the sight of the bathroom made Tara relax. “No!” she gasped, hurriedly tired to get the button on her shorts undone. She had relaxed too early, and now things were out of control. Finally sitting on the seat, a sharp but blissful relief crept over her. She had not realized how much and how painful this time had been. Tara knew that she should stop doing this but, for now, inspected the damage to her shorts. The whole crotch of the garment was a darker shade of blue and was a lost cause. Luckily, she had one other pair close to these that she could grab from her bag and slip into. This was only the third time this had happened, but it certainly was not something she enjoyed. Slipping into fresh clothes, she made her way back down to the living room to ‘officially’ greet Cathrine and Brittany. “Whew, sorry about that,” she greeted Catherine. “It’s alright, pretty on par for you, ha!” Cathrine jested, then her voice went low,“Follow me to the kitchen.” Her mother was talking with Brittany, and the girl was looking like she did not have much to say, so she followed Catherine. “So there is something that I have been keeping from you; I just told her mother last night,” she let out with a long breath. “Oh no, is something wrong?” Tara blurted out. “No, no, nothing serious, but… Brittany has been having some troubles. Bathroom troubles,” she responded flatly. A heat rose in Tara’s cheeks, and she simply said, “Oh…” “Now I know that you had your own issues, but I recently saw a book about accidents among older children and teenagers. I have Brittany following some rules that are designed to help her get through this phase.” Cathrine explained as she put a hardcover book on the counter. “The front of the book explains how the rules work - the ins and outs as they were. And in the back there is the list of rules and a little chart if you need it,” she went on. Tara picked up the book, and before she could utter a word, Cathrine continued, “You obviously don’t have to read it, and Brittany knows the first two rules by heart now, but you should read them and she has to follow them. Supplies are in the upstairs hall closet.” “Supplies?” the girl questioned. “Well, in a nutshell, Brittany has to use protection whenever she has accidents. The more accidents, the more protection, and the more…eh… privileges she loses.” the older woman explained. “Ah, well, I guess that makes sense.” Tara concluded. She couldn’t believe it, Brittany was in diapers! It was a shock only because there had never been a hint to her that her little friend may have had such troubles. Well, Tara herself was smaller, but not terribly so, but she was still taller by a couple of inches. Brittany had a heart shaped face, round blue eyes, and shorter brunette hair, while Tara had sandy blonde hair past her shoulders, brown eyes, and a longer face. Both had followed their mother’s genes, like matched sets. “Cathrine, we need to get to the airport,” her own mother called out. “Oh yes, coming!” she replied, and then to Tara, “Just read the rules and make sure Brittany follows them, simple as it gets!” With that, she hugged Tara and made her way to the living room, where her daughter and Tara’s mother were. There were the usual tearful goodbyes, as the realization of how long it would be before they were all together again sunk in. All too soon, it was just Tara and Brittany watching TV in silence as the girls both recovered from the painful departure. Tara ordered pizza as a way of cheering them both up, and by the time the large pizza and sodas had been consumed, it was close to bedtime. She, Tara, knew it was time to broach the subject. She decided to do so in a manner that showed she trusted Brittany to know what she had to do. “Well, I guess it is time for bed, Brit,” she stated. Brittany yawned. “Yeah, I guess so.” The girl got up from the couch and made her way to the stairs. “Wait, Brittany!” she called to stop the girl. “Is there something we need to talk about? Some rules?” The younger girl froze, and she stiffened as she turned to face Tara, so she went on the offensive. “Before you say anything, it's alright. I had problems when I was around your age,” she tried to soothe Brittany. “I don’t want to follow the rules without mom,” she almost spat back at Tara. “Look, this will go smoothly if we just follow what your mom wants you to do.” Tara countered. “But… it's just… It's so embarrassing, and I want to just be normal.” Brittany pleaded, “Please don't make me do them.” It nearly broke Tara’s heart to see Brittany clinging onto a small hope that she would be out of whatever she had been enduring. “What exactly are the rules you are supposed to follow, i haven't read them yet because I want you to tell me,” Tara said. “Well, umm… you… There are five rules, and if you have any, you know. Then you start at 1 and go from there.” Brittany mumbled. “I see, and what rule are you on now?” She questioned further. “1B,” Brittany said out of the side of her mouth. “1B?” “Yeah, the first rule has three parts… some kind of like grace period before the rest of the rules, I guess.” Brittany had crossed her arms and had not looked at Tara since she started talking about the rules. “How far have you gone down the list?” Tara asked with complete curiosity. “Just two, but it was awful.” Brittany huffed. Tara was in a bind; she didn’t want to fight Brittany for weeks on end. And she didn’t want to have to deal with Brittany having accidents she could prevent. But most of all, she did want to have fun with Brittany; she really was like a little sister. The girl shouldn’t have to feel alone in this… then it hit her. It was drastic, but it just might work. “Alright, let's look at 1B,” Tara announced. Going into the kitchen, she opened the back of the book and found the page with 1A at the top. She read out, “1A - a single day-time accident will result in a pull-up for 1 day and night.” Turning the page, she also read, “1B - a single night-time accident will result in regular pull-ups for 2 days & night-time pull-ups for 2 nights.” Brittany was bright red but Tara talked fast to ease the embarrassment. “So you…” “The night before last, this is my second night. Mom let me go without during the day today because she was leaving,” the girl clarified. “Good, then we will both follow the rules going forward.” Tara stated. “Both?” Brittany asked. “Both,” she replied. “What good is that? It's still just me that will have to do any of it!” Brittany screeched. “Hold on. Did you see me dash upstairs when I got here?” Tara asked, and the girl nodded. “Well, I didn't quite make it, and my shorts got a bit wet. So I guess that puts me on 1A, right?” she said, matter of fact. “You're lying,” Brittany huffed, but Tara was prepared for this. A quick trip to her room and her shorts from earlier presented to Brittany were all the evidence she needed. “Whoa!” Brittany exclaimed. “Told you, so we will both be in pull-ups tonight. Your mom gave you a break, so we will just go with the pull-ups tonight. And if we are both dry in the morning, this all resets, right?” She asked cheerily. “Yeah, but… but… “ Brittany couldn’t come up with an argument. “Now come on, we are still about the same size; let's see if they fit and we can get off to bed.” Tara led the dumbstruck girl up the stairs and to the closet. It was packed with white boxes, each labeled in the upper corner. The shelf at chest height had two opened boxes, one of the left read ‘Slims’. Thinking these must be the pull-ups she grabbed two, and handed one to Brittany. “Let’s both get pjs on, i will come to your room in about 10 minutes.” Tara said as she closed her door behind her. Throwing the pull-up on the bed, it suddenly hit Tara what she was about to do. It had been so long since she had worn something like that she almost felt as if it stared back at her. As if this meant more than just a means to an end. Shaking her head, she inspected the pull-up; it wasn’t any of the major brands she knew. In fact, it only had an “R” in the center of the waistband to indicate a brand. The sides were just a bit longer than the width of her hand and the padding looked fairly thin, but then it was just a pull-up. Changing into a tank top with thin shoulder straps, she placed her usual PJ pants next to the pull up on the bed. Stepping into the pull-up she began to doubt that she would fit, yet as she dragged it up to her waist, it never seemed to tighten. Standing there, 18 years old, and in a pull-up, it may as well have been fitted for her. It clung to her a bit but didn’t feel tight, and she felt the leg holes conform around her leg just below her butt, a perfect fit. She walked around and noted the extra padding and the overall ‘bulk’ she was not accustomed to as she moved. Satisfied, she pulled her PJs over the pull-up and went to see Brittany. Knocking on the door, the girl called out that she was ready. Tara was momentarily taken aback as Brittany had some small shorts and the diaper spilled out of the top and the sides. “All set?” she asked. “Yeah… I guess,” but Brittany kept glancing at Tara's PJs. Pulling the band of her pants down a bit, Tara showed the top of the pull and said, “Fitted just fine.” Tara began to giggle, and a smile reached Brittany's face as well. Soon they were laughing hard at the situation, and the tension was broken between them. “Night, Brit, see in the morning.” Tara chuckled out. “Night, Tara” was the reply as the younger girl got into bed. Back in her own room, Tara turned off the lights and got under the streets, exhausted. However, she almost immediately realized why Brittany’s shorts were so small. Being under covers, in pants, and in a pull-up was not the most comfortable thing. But tiredness eventually overtook Tara, and she drifted off.

Meet Alice. An 19 years old college girl who, recently has been having some troubles with a slightly leaky bladder. Regular bathroom trips have frustratingly become the norm for her in recent times, as well as frequent sudden urges to go. Which when you're often stuck in a 90 minute class can be a problem.... The last thing she ever expected at her age was to be worried about peeing herself in class, it's the sort of thing she would of happily teased someone other unfortunate student for, but the reality is that the cute college chick now finds herself terrified that with her seemingly misbehaving bladder, she might end up doing what in her mind, would probably totally destroy her all so-important social life. Yesterday was the final straw. She had struggled with every fibre in her body to hold it until the end of class, trying desperately hard not to make her predicament obvious to the rest of her class, as she fought against her throbbing weak bladder. The only way she held it was to constantly remind herself of just how much it would ruin her life if she peed herself in front of everyone. Alice hated History any way, she didn't even know why she picked it. That stupid teacher Mr Slater would never let her leave from the moment the class started. Perhaps because of his perceived perception of her as being one of the more rebellious students in his class, which to be fair to him was probably justified. It was seemingly his way of trying to teach her some much needed discipline... The second her class was dismissed Alice literally ran down the hallway, barging past people. There were a few chuckles as some students noticed the pretty girl clutching between her legs. Eventually she made it into the girls toilets where she charged into one of the cubicles, however before she could even lock the door, or pull down her panties, her baby-like bladder decided to let go...... She stood frozen on the spot only a mere few inches away from the toilet , as if to add insult to injury, as she helplessly let out a huge gasp which was followed by a torrent of uncontrollable pee which gushed out from beneath her pleated skirt, quickly forming a large puddle which spread outside of the cubicle She felt like an embarrassed, un-potty trained child as the reality of what she had done set in, causing her make-up covered cheeks to instantly burn red. The puddle was huge, and there would be no mistaking what it was if someone came in and saw her stood there.. "No no no this can't be fucking happening" shouted the distraught girl as she looked at what she'd done, completely oblivious that she wasn't alone.... She soon heard some giggles from the stall next to her.....her heart instantly skipped a beat as a feeling of dread rushed through her....... In her desperate rush she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed there was someone in the next stall..... Whoever was in there obviously knew about Alice's accident. To be fair no one could of missed the sound of her pee hitting the floor though. It had been like someone putting a tap on full power and left it running for about 20 seconds... Looking down Alice almost died when she saw her accident had crept under the partition wall and into the cubicle the other girl was in...... Knowing now that the girl could potentially ruin her if she knew who she was, Alice, in a complete panic thought hard about what to do. Then she heard a voice.... "Oh dear looks like someone needs some pampers, did Mommy not put one on you this morning little one?" came the condescending voice of the laughing girl Alice fought hard to hold back the tears in her eyes.... Judging by the horrible rough voice the cruel words had been spoken in, Alice thought she recognised the voice as a girl called Lisa Phillips. This was bad news. She was a rather large girl known not to be backward in coming forward. Probably something to do with her own shortcomings, she wasn't afraid to try and bring other people down if she had a chance. If she found out it was Alice, she knew news of her accident would be common knowledge by tomorrow morning.... She decided that she now had two options.. 1. Wait it out until Lisa leaves and hope to god she doesn't wait for her outside or go and get her friends..... which knowing her would probably be extremely wishful thinking... Or 2. Just grab her bag and get the hell out of there before Lisa has a chance to come out of the cubicle and see her..... A concerned Alice examined her skirt realising to her surprise it was pretty much dry, and her shoes had also avoided being soaked. Visually she felt relieved there were actually no signs of her having just peed herself. She knew her expensive blue Victoria's Secret panties were obviously completely soaked, but no one need ever to know about that. She would just stick them straight in the washing machine when she got home. Suddenly, panic set in...........as she heard a click from the stall next to her. Meaning the cubicle door had been unlocked......... Without any time to think, Alice knew she had to act quickly. She grabbed her bag, swung the cubicle door open and ran, with her hands on her head to cover her face.... She bolted for the exit door trying to catch Lisa by surprise, who hadn't expected her to quickly run away. She managed to catch a glimpse of the running Alice from the side and back as she saw her dash for the door, with the girls hands trying to cover her face and her dark brunette coloured hair flying all over the place.... Alice quickly made herself disappear into the crowds, as the toilets were fortunately situated right by the college main entrance, and thankfully it was now home time, meaning what looked like half the college were either stood waiting for friends or headed home for the day.... Lisa charged out of the toilets hoping to get a better look at who the panty pisser was but felt disappointed to be met with nothing but crowds of students walking about.... The question is, did she, or did she not get a good enough look to know which college girl had just had a little pee pee accident?

Here we go again. As I had just started writing my first story ever (Whispers in the Dark), I already learned a ton. While I still uses crutches (AI), I thought I could already use what I've learned with Whispers in the Dark and apply it to a new, more thought out story. This one is already mostly outlined, has longer chapters and a completely different theme to it. I will still continue Whispers in the Dark of course, but while that one is only roughly planned in my head, this new one is fully planned out on paper. Except for one wetting scene, the build up is rather slow, but it will be worth it. I have a lot planned for this story. You can view the first 3 chapters as some kind of very long prologue. Let me know what you think! Under Pressure Innocence in the Shadow of Power Chapter 1 - Birthday Under the soothing rush of the shower, I felt the weight of today pressing down on me. It was a pivotal moment, the divide between the life I'd grown accustomed to and the uncertain horizon ahead. Each droplet mingling with my tears seemed to underscore the harsh reality: I was saying goodbye to the comfort of my tiny apartment, facing the daunting prospect of nowhere to belong. "Happy birthday, Feli," I murmured to my reflection as I emerged from the steam. Felicity von Sterntal—that's my full name. The "von" part adds a touch of German flair, a nod to nobility, though our family's far from royal. My grandparents, German immigrants who made their way to the USA in the 60s, christened me with the nickname "Feli," though it's pronounced more like "Fehly." I never really knew them, as they passed when I was just a baby. Still, I've grown fond of my name. It's distinct, and it ties me to something, even if it's just the echoes of the past. Drawing upon every bit of strength I could muster, I willed a smile onto my lips, hoping to cloak the uncertainty gnawing at my core. The girl in the mirror, barely reaching five feet tall, her deep blue eyes framed by unruly black hair cascading down to her mid-back, reflected my forced composure. Despite my 18 years, she seemed more like a lost teenager navigating the tumult of adolescence rather than on the brink of adulthood. As I locked eyes with her, the facade faltered, exposing the raw loneliness lurking beneath the surface. She lacked the confidence she sought to project. Stepping into my living room—well, my only room—a wave of sadness engulfed me. Today marked the end of calling this place home. Glancing around, memories flooded back, stirring up a mix of nostalgia and sorrow. In one corner stood my tiny kitchen, equipped with just the basics: stove, sink, fridge, and microwave. It had witnessed its fair share of culinary experiments and mishaps. Opposite the kitchen, my bed nestled into another corner, its modest size a testament to the limited space. Despite its smallness, it had cradled me through countless nights of rest and contemplation. Across from the bed, my desk stood, once housing my PC which I'd already packed away. It had been my sanctuary for studying and coding, a space of productivity and focus. And lots and lots of gaming. Now, everything else was neatly packed in boxes, except for my trusty backpack holding the essentials: phone, laptop, and a few changes of clothes. As I surveyed the remnants of my life here, a shroud of uncertainty settled over my thoughts. I scooped up the final crumbs of cereal from the box, a stark reminder of dwindling supplies in my modest kitchen. With a sigh, I sank into the worn chair at my desk, spoon in hand, and retrieved the letter once more. Its contents had been etched into my memory since its arrival on the day of my high school graduation, just weeks ago. As I savored the last bites of cereal, I read over the letter one last time. Dear Felicity, We hope this letter finds you well. It is with careful consideration that your mother and I have reached a decision regarding your financial support. As you have successfully completed your high school education and are soon to reach the age of majority, we believe it is appropriate to adjust our financial arrangements accordingly. Regrettably, we must inform you that, effective immediately, we will no longer be providing you with financial assistance, including your allowance. Furthermore, in light of your impending 18th birthday, arrangements have been made for movers to assist you in vacating the apartment that we have provided for you. We view this transition as a gesture of our support and encouragement as you embark on the next chapter of your life. Please be prepared to surrender your keys to the designated representative upon their arrival. With warm regards, Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal It was a cruel slap in the face, a harsh reminder of my parents' indifference, their decision to cut off the last lifeline of financial support right on the brink of my adulthood. As I absorbed the cold, impersonal words of the letter, a surge of anger and resentment boiled within me. This wasn't just about money; it was a final abandonment, a deliberate shove into the abyss of independence. The memory of how I came to live in this apartment at such a young age flooded back, stirring up a blend of bitterness and resignation. My parents, consumed by their careers and absent from my life, had effectively abandoned their parental duties when I was just fifteen. Their presence had never been significant anyway; nannies had filled the void left by their absence, their faces blending into a blur of caretakers who had come and gone over the years. Despite their neglect, the apartment had provided a semblance of stability in a chaotic world. It was my sanctuary, my own space amidst the turmoil. And now, as they callously stripped away even that small comfort, I couldn't help but feel bitterness at the injustice of it all. With a heavy heart, I folded the letter and set it aside, its implications casting a palpable weight in the air. The cereal in my bowl had lost its appeal, each spoonful a bitter reminder of the uncertainty looming ahead. As the minutes stretched on, I pondered the cruel irony of their supposed "birthday gift," a gesture tinged with spite rather than kindness. And as the harsh reality of my situation settled in, I steeled myself for the turbulent road ahead, resolved to carve out my own path despite the hurdles in my way. As the doorbell shattered the quiet of my apartment, I braced myself for the inevitable. With a steadying breath, I crossed the room and swung open the door, greeted by the stern gaze of a man in his mid-fifties, dressed in a somber suit. His presence filled the doorway, a forewarning of the chaos awaiting me. Introducing himself as a representative of the von Sterntal family, a bitter irony settled over me at the shared surname, a reminder of the tangled connections binding me to this tumultuous moment. Behind him, a group of movers stood with downcast expressions, their sympathetic glances betraying their discomfort at being complicit in my forced eviction. It seemed they had been briefed on the situation, their professional demeanor tinged with a touch of empathy. "Miss von Sterntal," the representative began, his voice laced with formality. "I assume you're aware of the purpose of our visit," he continued, his gaze drifting to the neatly packed boxes scattered throughout the apartment, silent witnesses to the impending upheaval. I simply nodded, the lump in my throat stifling any words that threatened to escape. "Very well," he said briskly, his tone businesslike. "If you could just sign here and hand over the keys, we'll take care of the rest." His smile carried a hint of reassurance, emphasizing that the movers' services came without cost to me. With a resigned acceptance, I took the document and signed it, my signature a stark acknowledgment of my departure from the property. Handing over the keys, I watched as the movers sprang into action, loading my belongings into the waiting truck. It was a transaction devoid of choice, a forced relinquishment of my home, as I stood by, a silent witness to the unraveling of my life. As the movers finished loading my belongings, I slung my backpack over my shoulder, the only link to the life I was leaving behind. With a final click, the representative locked the door, marking the end of an era. As we headed towards the waiting truck, he spoke up once more, offering me a semblance of choice amidst the chaos. "The movers will take you wherever you want," he said, his words a small act of kindness in the midst of turmoil. And just before we parted ways, he added, "Oh, and Miss von Sterntal, happy birthday by the way." His well-wishes hung in the air, a bitter reminder of the cruel twist of fate that marked the day. With a handshake and a farewell, he left me standing there, the taste of bitterness lingering. As the truck pulled away, carrying me towards an uncertain future, I couldn't help but resent the hollow birthday wishes, a stark reminder of the emptiness awaiting me. I directed the movers towards a storage unit I had booked online for a week, a temporary sanctuary for the fragments of my past life. It was a pragmatic solution, born from necessity with the scant funds left to me by my parents. As we navigated the bustling streets of the city, I couldn't shake off the irony of my circumstances. Despite being the offspring of the private owners and executives of a multi-billion-dollar tech empire nestled in the heart of NYC, their generosity towards me had always been in short supply. Their reminders of my status as their "accident" reverberated in my thoughts, a persistent reminder of my position on the fringes of their world. It was a bitter pill to swallow, realizing that despite their wealth and influence, I was little more than an inconvenience to them. And as we unloaded the remnants of my former life into the storage unit, I felt the weight of their neglect bearing down on me, a burden I carried with me into an uncertain future. As the movers drove off, leaving me to face the stark reality of my situation, I gazed at the orderly array of boxes in the storage unit. Each one contained memories and possessions, now symbolizing the entirety of my existence. This was it – my entire life condensed into a confined space, a tangible manifestation of the upheaval that had swept through my world in a single day. Overwhelmed by the enormity of it all, I sank to the ground, tears streaming down my cheeks as emotions flooded over me. Time seemed to blur as I sat amidst my belongings, the weight of my newfound homelessness crashing down on me in relentless waves. In that moment of vulnerability, every suppressed feeling from the day – the abandonment, the betrayal, the uncertainty – converged, drowning me in a torrent of despair. I couldn't tell how long I stayed there, lost in the abyss of my anguish. All I knew was that this was my reality now – adrift in a sea of uncertainty, with nowhere to call home. As I closed the storage unit, a heavy sigh escaped my lips, mingling with the chill of the morning air. My backpack felt like a lifeline, its weight a reminder of the few possessions I still possessed. While my plans for the days ahead seemed meager, tinged with a sense of futility, I trudged along the bustling streets of New York City. Each step carried the weight of uncertainty, a burden I had grown accustomed to bearing alone. As I rounded a corner, my gaze inevitably fell upon the towering silhouette of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper, its imposing presence etched into the city skyline. I knew every facet of that building all too well, a monument to the wealth and success my parents had achieved. Yet, it also symbolized the stark divide between their world of privilege and my own neglected existence. High above, on the top floor, lay the domain of Alexander and Victoria von Sterntal, my parents, seemingly peering down on me from their ivory tower. The shadow cast by their empire seemed to mirror the shadow they had cast over my life, leaving me in the darkness of their neglect. Shaking my head to dispel the troubling thoughts, I stepped into the warmth of a nearby cafe, seeking refuge from the chill of the city streets. Dwelling on the weight of my circumstances was a luxury I couldn't afford at the moment; practical matters demanded my attention. With each passing moment, the reality of my situation loomed larger—I didn't even have a place to rest my head for the night. The uncertainty gnawed at me, fueling a sense of urgency as I scanned the bustling cafe for a temporary respite from my troubles. Choosing a solitary spot by the expansive window, I couldn't help but feel drawn to the lone chair stationed beside the table. It seemed to mirror my own isolation, a silent companion in the midst of a crowded cafe. As I settled into the seat, I signaled the server and placed an order for a simple tea, mindful of my dwindling funds. The price felt steep for such a basic beverage, but I knew the cost was necessary to gain access to the cafe's WiFi—a lifeline in my current predicament. With a sense of resolve, I awaited my order, hoping that the warmth of the tea would offer some solace amidst the uncertainty of my circumstances. Taking a cautious sip of the steaming tea, I set my laptop upon the table and powered it up, the soft glow of the screen casting a comforting light in the dimly lit cafe. With a sense of determination, I delved into the task at hand, my fingers flying across the keyboard as I navigated through job listings and online applications. The simplicity of my plan belied the daunting reality of my situation—I was an 18-year-old with only a high school diploma, adrift in the competitive landscape of New York City's job market. Yet, despite the odds stacked against me, I poured all my energy into the search, knowing that every opportunity seized could mean the difference between survival and succumbing to the shadows of my circumstances. As I sifted through yet another round of discouraging rejection emails flooding my inbox, my focus was abruptly shattered by the boisterous entrance of a man engaged in a heated phone conversation. His voice carried above the ambient chatter of the cafe, drawing the attention of patrons with its intensity. Despite my initial reluctance to eavesdrop, I found myself inadvertently tuning in to his conversation, snippets of disdain toward a VIP client punctuating the air. Intrigued, I observed him as he made his way to the counter, his animated gestures betraying the gravity of his conversation. With a sense of curiosity, I couldn't help but wonder about the complexities of his world, momentarily distracted from the weight of my own struggles by the drama unfolding before me. Feigning engrossment in my laptop screen, I diverted my gaze as the man collected his coffee and turned in my direction. Discomfort prickled at the edges of my consciousness; I loathed the idea of being caught staring, a violation of the unspoken etiquette of public spaces. With practiced nonchalance, I buried myself in the facade of productivity, my fingers tracing absent patterns on the keyboard as I scrolled through meaningless content. As the man fell silent, a fleeting sense of dread coiled within me, only to be shattered by the resumption of his conversation moments later. Relief washed over me as he departed the cafe without so much as a second glance in my direction, leaving me to exhale a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. The brief encounter served as a stark reminder of the delicate balance between privacy and observation in the bustling landscape of city life. As the hours slipped away, so too did the fragile tendrils of hope that had buoyed my spirits earlier in the day. Despite my best efforts, the job search yielded little more than a string of rejections, each one serving as a stark reminder of the uphill battle I faced in securing employment. With a heavy heart, I conceded to the reality of the situation—I had made little progress, and time was slipping away. Gathering my belongings and tucking my laptop securely into my backpack, I steeled myself for the next hurdle: finding shelter for the night. The uncertainty loomed large, casting a shadow over my already precarious existence, but I refused to succumb to despair. With determination fueling my steps, I pushed open the door of the cafe and stepped back out into the bustling streets of New York City. With a bag of chips clasped tightly in my hand, I embarked on a solitary journey through the labyrinth of city streets, my footsteps echoing against the pavement as I wandered aimlessly. The neon glow of storefronts illuminated the impending darkness, casting fleeting shadows that danced across the concrete. Hunger gnawed at my stomach, a constant reminder of the meager sustenance I had managed to scrounge up for dinner. Yet, as I roamed the unfamiliar terrain, a sense of helplessness washed over me, amplifying the weight of my circumstances. The prospect of renting a room or even a bed felt like an impossible luxury, far beyond the reach of my limited means. Lost in the sea of uncertainty, I struggled to discern a path forward, the cityscape looming around me like an insurmountable obstacle. Sitting down heavily on a bench, I sought solace in the simple act of munching on the salt-flavored chips, their flavor resembling the silent tears tracing paths down my cheeks. As I gazed into the distance, my eyes inevitably landed on the looming presence of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper once again, its towering silhouette a constant reminder of my own inadequacy in the shadow of my parents' success. A surge of defiance rose within me, driving me to shake off the suffocating weight of helplessness that threatened to engulf me. With a resolute shake of my head, I refused to surrender to despair. Pushing myself upright, I continued to scour the streets for any glimmer of hope, a beacon amidst the darkness that threatened to consume me whole. Rounding a corner, my weary eyes alighted upon a surprisingly pristine alleyway nestled beside the imposing facade of a law firm. Shielded from the harsh gaze of the bustling street and buffered from the relentless gusts of wind that swept through the city, the alley offered a semblance of respite amidst the chaos of urban life. With darkness descending upon the cityscape and exhaustion weighing heavy upon my shoulders, I knew that this secluded alcove would have to suffice for the night. Despite the pang of discomfort that gnawed at my conscience, I resolved to make the best of the situation, clinging to the fleeting sense of security offered by the sheltered confines of the alleyway. With a weary sigh, I nestled against the unyielding coolness of the concrete wall, my jacket wrapped tightly around me in a feeble attempt to stave off the chill of the night air. Clutching my backpack to my chest like a lifeline, I sought solace in the familiar weight of my belongings, their presence a source of comfort amidst the uncertainty that loomed around me. As exhaustion weighed heavy upon my eyelids, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to drift into the welcoming embrace of sleep, the cacophony of the city fading into the background as I surrendered to the oblivion of slumber. In the solitude of the alleyway, I found a fleeting sense of peace, a respite from the trials and tribulations that had plagued me throughout the day. And so, beneath the watchful gaze of the moonlight, I surrendered myself to the darkness, seeking refuge in the sanctuary of dreams. Chapter 2 - John I woke up to the raucous symphony of the waking city, my body stiff and sore from the uncomfortable concrete floor of the alley. The cold seeped into my bones, a reminder of the unforgiving night that had passed. Determination surged within me as I made a mental note to invest in a sleeping bag, albeit a budget-friendly one. Luxury was a distant concept now. Every expense had to be carefully weighed against necessity, but not freezing to death seemed necessary enough. The distant rumble of a garbage truck echoed down the street, prompting me to glance towards the nearby dumpster that had offered me some semblance of privacy throughout the night. Taking it as my cue to depart, I pushed myself up from the cold concrete, aching muscles protesting the movement. With a determined resolve, I reaffirmed my plan for the day, the same as yesterday, unaltered despite the discomforts of the night. With my trusty backpack snug against my back, I traversed the bustling streets, a lone figure amidst the throngs of morning commuters. The aroma of freshly baked goods wafted from a nearby bakery, tempting me with its promise of sustenance. Yielding to the growling protest of my stomach, I indulged in a modest yet satisfying sandwich, procured with the meager funds at my disposal. Satiated, albeit temporarily, I continued on my journey, guided by a sense of familiarity towards the same cafe that had become my refuge the day before. Entering the cafe, I was greeted by a comforting wave of warmth and the familiar aroma of brewing coffee. It felt like a sanctuary amidst the chaos of my current circumstances. Glancing over to the corner where I had sat the day before, I breathed a sigh of relief to find it still vacant, my spot waiting for me like an old friend. With a sense of quiet determination, I settled into the familiar surroundings, ordering another one of the overpriced teas that had become a guilty pleasure amidst my frugality. Opening my laptop, I delved once more into the relentless task of scouring job listings, navigating the virtual labyrinth in search of a beacon of hope amidst the sea of rejections. It was a bitter irony that plagued my thoughts as I sifted through the digital landscape of job postings. The online forums, where praise flowed freely for my coding prowess, seemed worlds apart from the harsh reality of my current situation. Despite being self-taught and garnering accolades from virtual strangers, I had faltered in monetizing my skills, relegating them to the realm of mere hobbyism. Coding and gaming had long served as my refuge, a sanctuary from the tumultuous years of high school and the suffocating grip of loneliness. Yet, as I now grappled with the daunting task of securing employment to sustain myself, the weight of my perceived failure pressed down upon me like a suffocating blanket. If only my parents had told me sooner, I would’ve probably had something figured out by now. Lost in the labyrinth of my own thoughts, I found myself gazing absently out the window, the passing scenery a blur against the canvas of my mind. It was then that I noticed the familiar figure of the man from the day before, striding purposefully towards the entrance of the cafe. A pang of apprehension gripped me, prompting a swift diversion of my attention back to the glowing screen of my laptop. Tuning in to the ambient sounds of the cafe, I couldn't help but overhear his order, a simple request for a coffee to go, mirroring his routine from the previous day. A subtle sense of curiosity stirred within me, mingling with a tinge of unease as I pondered the significance of his presence once more. As I remained engrossed in my task of scouring job listings and dispatching applications into the digital void, the absence of the man's departure did not escape my notice. Despite his initial intention of ordering a coffee to go, the distinct lack of movement behind me hinted at his lingering presence within the confines of the cafe. Resolutely keeping my focus trained on the flickering glow of my laptop screen, I resisted the temptation to steal a glance over my shoulder, preferring to remain ensconced in my own world. Time drifted by in the steady rhythm of keystrokes and mouse clicks, punctuated only by the murmurs of other patrons and the occasional clink of ceramic against tabletops. It wasn't until a considerable while later that I observed his departure from the corner of my eye, his enigmatic presence departing as quietly as it had arrived. A fleeting curiosity stirred within me, fleeting thoughts of his peculiar aura and expensive attire crossing my mind before swiftly dissipating amidst the urgency of my own endeavors. As the day wore on and my focus waned, I made the decision to call it quits, at least for the time being. With a newfound determination fueled by a semblance of planning, I bid farewell to the comforting confines of the cafe and ventured back out into the bustling streets. Remembering the necessity of securing a sleeping bag for the impending night, I retraced my steps to the store I had spotted that morning. Scanning the shelves for the most budget-friendly option, I finally settled on the cheapest offering. Though it offered no protection against dampness, it was a small comfort knowing that it would stave off the biting cold, leaving me with enough funds to sustain myself with nourishment for a few more days to come. With a sense of resignation gnawing at my insides, I purchased another bag of chips, though acutely aware of their meager nutritional value. As I trudged back towards the alley that had become my makeshift refuge, I couldn't help but cast a glance towards the towering spire that housed my parents' corporate empire. Biting down on a chip, the taste a bitter reminder of my circumstances, I felt a surge of despair welling within me. The sight of their skyscraper loomed over me like a mocking specter, a constant reminder of the chasm that separated us, both physically and emotionally. With clenched teeth and a fervent hope burning within my chest, I prayed that this dismal routine would soon become nothing more than a painful memory of a bygone era. As the sun dipped below the horizon and the biting chill of the night descended upon the city, I nestled into the familiarity of my chosen spot within the alley. With the thin barrier of the sleeping bag offering a modicum of warmth, I settled down, leaning against my backpack for a semblance of comfort. Tears welled in my eyes, tracing silent pathways down my cheeks, as the crushing weight of my predicament enveloped me once more. In the darkness, surrounded by the echoes of solitude, I felt the suffocating embrace of hopelessness tighten its grip around my heart. Yet, amidst the despair, a flicker of determination burned within me, a stubborn refusal to surrender to the engulfing darkness. Clinging to that glimmer of resilience like a lifeline, I vowed silently to myself that I would not succumb, that I would persevere against the odds, no matter how insurmountable they seemed. For in the depths of my despair, I found a resolve that whispered fiercely in the silence: I could not give up. I would not give up. As I stirred from my fitful slumber, the city had already sprung to life around me, its bustling energy a stark contrast to the quiet solitude of the alley. Despite the persistent ache that clung to my body like a lingering shadow, I couldn't help but acknowledge the small comfort afforded by the sleeping bag wrapped around me. Unlike the previous night, the shivers that had plagued me were noticeably absent. The sleeping bag had proven to be a worthwhile investment. With a weary yet grateful sigh, I rose to my feet and carefully packed up my sleeping bag, folding it neatly as I prepared to face another day. Embracing the familiarity of my newfound routine, I steeled myself for the challenges that lay ahead. As I retraced the familiar steps of my routine, grabbing the same sandwich from the same bakery and making my way to the same cafe, I couldn't help but marvel at the swiftness with which humans could fall into patterns. Yet, upon entering the cafe, the comfort of routine shattered in an instant. Seated at my usual spot in front of the window, in the corner, was the enigmatic man who had piqued my curiosity the days before. His gaze was fixed out the window, lost in thought as he sipped on his coffee. A sense of intrigue tinged with apprehension washed over me as I hesitated in the doorway, uncertain of how to proceed in the wake of this unexpected disruption to my routine. With a resentful glance at the man's back, I took a seat behind him, my frustration simmering beneath the surface as I ordered my tea and opened my laptop to resume my job hunt. Sighing heavily, I couldn't help but feel the weight of disappointment as I sifted through the slew of new rejections that had flooded my inbox. Another day stretching out before me, seemingly destined to end in the same vein of fruitless endeavors and dashed hopes. Lost in the rhythm of typing out applications, I was jolted from my focus by the subtle stirrings of the man in front of me. Ignoring the uneasy feeling creeping up my spine, I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the screen, hoping to avoid any unwanted interactions. Yet, despite my efforts to feign indifference, I could sense his probing gaze boring into me, a silent weight that I could no longer ignore. After what felt like an eternity of silent scrutiny, I relented, lifting my eyes from the screen to meet his gaze. To my surprise, he had moved closer, now sitting directly in front of me, his eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "Hi, I'm John," he said, extending a hand in greeting, but I remained rigid, my gaze locked in a glare, still nursing my resentment for his disruption of my routine. His attempt at cordiality was met with my silent rebuke. "All right, all right," he continued, his tone laced with a hint of apology, "I apologize for taking your spot, but I needed an excuse to talk to you." His words hung in the air, punctuated by the weight of his admission. Despite my lingering irritation, a flicker of curiosity sparked within me, compelling me to lower my guard ever so slightly. "That's a pretty bad excuse," I retorted sharply, my glare unwavering as I remained guarded. "Yeah, probably," he chuckled in response, his admission punctuated by a hint of self-awareness. Yet, before I could respond further, he continued, his demeanor shifting to a more serious tone. "Anyway, I wanted to make you an offer," he stated, his eyes appraising me with an intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. "And I think you'd be perfect for this." Despite my lingering apprehension, the mention of an offer piqued my curiosity, stirring a mixture of intrigue and caution within me. His lingering gaze, however, remained a discomforting reminder of the unease that still lingered between us. "What kind of offer?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow in suspicion as he smirked in response, a gesture that already grated on my nerves. "It's something I can't talk about in detail here, but it will be very profitable for you and you seem perfect for this," he replied, his gaze lingering on me in a way that made me uneasy. He jotted down his phone number on a piece of paper and slid it across the table before standing up. "I bet you could really use some money right now," he remarked, his eyes trailing over to my backpack and sleeping bag beside me, sending a chill down my spine. As he made his exit from the cafe, he spoke once more, his parting words hanging in the air like a weight upon my shoulders. "Give me a ring, Miss von Sterntal," he said, the mention of my name sending a jolt of mortification through me. I watched in silence as he left the cafe, his words echoing in my mind, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable in their wake. As I sat there, grappling with the unsettling revelation that dawned upon me, I pieced together the puzzle in my mind. He had been watching me, studying my every move. Perhaps he had glanced over my shoulder yesterday, observing the desperation with which I scoured job listings and sifted through rejection letters. My name, Felicity von Sterntal, had undoubtedly been revealed through the numerous applications I had submitted, a detail he could have easily gleaned. And the presence of the sleeping bag, a symbol of my desperation and downtrodden circumstances, likely provided him with the final confirmation he needed. It became painfully clear that I must have appeared to him as the perfect victim for whatever scheme he was plotting. The realization sent a chill down my spine, a wave of vulnerability washing over me as I grappled with the unsettling implications of his calculated observation. With a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach, I resolved to proceed with caution, wary of the dangers that lurked beneath the surface of his enticing offer. As I continued to sift through job offers, the memory of John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind like a persistent whisper. Despite the reservations gnawing at my conscience, I couldn't shake the allure of his seemingly affluent demeanor and the enigmatic promise he had made. His professional attire and confident demeanor bespoke a level of wealth and influence that was undeniably intriguing, especially for someone who appeared to be in his late twenties. Yet, as I found myself briefly succumbing to the fleeting temptation, a resolute determination surged within me. I shook my head. I refused to entertain the notion of compromising my principles, even in the face of such uncertainty and desperation. The thought of possibly engaging in anything of a sexual nature for monetary gain was quickly dismissed, my self-worth and dignity too precious to be bartered away. Also it’s not like I have any sexual experience anyway. However, despite my resolve, a speck of curiosity about John and his mysterious offer lingered in the recesses of my mind. As I continued to sift through job offers, his presence remained a lingering question mark, tugging at the edges of my consciousness with a persistent allure that I couldn't quite shake. The day dragged on, each passing moment marked by the familiar sting of disappointment as my efforts yielded no success. Despite the mysterious interruption earlier, I quickly regained my focus, returning to the monotonous routine of job hunting. A while later, seated in the same spot, beneath the looming shadow of the skyscraper that towered above me and reminded me of my past, I found myself lost in thought, munching on the same kind of chips that had become a staple of my meager diet. As I chewed on the familiar salty snack, the memories of the past days flooded through me, a relentless tide of reminders of my struggles and setbacks. The relentless cycle of uncertainty weighed heavily on my mind, a constant reminder of the uphill battle I faced in clawing my way out of the depths of despair. Amidst the turmoil of my thoughts, a simple realization emerged: I needed to break free from the confines of this repetitive existence, starting with something as simple as changing my dinner menu for tomorrow. With a heavy sigh, I rose from my seat and began the familiar trek towards my secluded alley. As I passed by the office of the law firm, now a fixture in my daily surroundings, I couldn't help but steal a longing glance through the windows, pondering the lives of those within. Lost in idle daydreams, my attention was abruptly shattered when I found myself locking eyes with a man about to step into an elevator at the back of the lobby. It was John, and to my horror, he had noticed me too. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, flushing my cheeks with embarrassment as I hastily averted my gaze and bolted around the corner, seeking refuge in the safety of my alley sanctuary. The encounter left me rattled, a knot of apprehension coiling in the pit of my stomach as I grappled with the unsettling implications of our unexpected meeting. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me as I settled into my makeshift resting place behind the dumpster, seeking solace in the refuge of sleep. Yet, despite my weariness, rest proved elusive as I found myself caught in a hazy limbo between wakefulness and slumber. Memories of the day swirled around in my mind like a tumultuous whirlwind, refusing to grant me the respite I so desperately sought, leaving me in a disorienting haze where they swirled like fragments of a fractured reality. Amidst the fog of my memories, John's face emerged intermittently, a haunting presence that lingered on the fringes of my consciousness. Despite my best efforts to find respite in sleep, his haunting gaze seemed to follow me into the realm of dreams, casting a shadow of unease over the fragile sanctuary of my thoughts. And so, I remained suspended in a daze, trapped in the liminal space between consciousness and oblivion, grappling with the unsettling echoes of the day's events that refused to be silenced. As I drifted on the precipice of sleep, I was violently yanked back into consciousness by the sensation of someone shaking me with rough urgency. With a gasp, my eyes flew open to behold two looming figures, their silhouettes cast in stark relief against the feeble glow of the street lantern that pierced the darkness of the alley. A scream tore from my throat, raw and primal, as fear surged through every fiber of my being, rendering me paralyzed in shock. Tears streamed down my face in torrents, blurring my vision as I trembled uncontrollably, a helpless captive to the terror that gripped me in its merciless embrace. Frozen in place, I could do naught but gaze up at the looming shadows, consumed by a suffocating sense of vulnerability in the face of the unknown. "Hey girl, give us all of your money!" one of the figures demanded, their voice dripping with menace as a sinister smirk danced upon their lips, barely visible in the dim illumination of the street lantern. "I-I-I don't have a-any," I managed to stammer out through trembling lips, my voice barely above a whisper as tears continued to stream down my face, betraying my overwhelming fear. Before I could even comprehend their next move, they lunged forward, seizing my backpack from my grasp with ruthless efficiency. Despite my feeble attempts to resist, I found myself held down by unseen hands, rendered powerless by the shock that still held me captive in its grip. Helplessly, I watched as they emptied the contents of my backpack onto the cold pavement, their greedy hands sifting through my meager belongings with callous disregard. Each item strewn haphazardly before me served as a stark reminder of the fragility of my existence, a harsh testament to the cruelty of fate in a world that showed no mercy to the downtrodden. "HEY!" a voice suddenly pierced the tense air, echoing through the alleyway as the sound of running footsteps grew louder. "What's going on here? Leave her alone!" the voice thundered with authority, sending a shiver down my spine. "Oh shit, let's go," one of the figures muttered to the other, their panicked voices barely audible over the pounding of my heart. With swift movements, they fled towards the other end of the alley, their forms disappearing into the darkness as they vanished from sight. The mysterious man, who had come to my rescue, pursued them briefly before coming to a halt, realizing they were already out of reach. With a heavy exhale, he turned his attention back to me, his gaze softening as he took in the sight before him. I remained huddled atop my sleeping bag, my face buried in my knees which I clutched tightly to my chest. Shivers wracked my body as tears streamed down my cheeks, mingling with the remnants of fear that still lingered in the air. My meager belongings lay strewn around me, a pitiful testament to the vulnerability that had been laid bare in the face of danger. "Miss von Sterntal?" The words escaped the mysterious man's lips in a gasp of recognition, his hand instinctively rising to cover his mouth as he took in the sight before him. My eyes lifted for the first time, meeting his gaze, and the realization washed over me like a tidal wave. "John?" I spoke up, my voice barely above a whisper as a flood of emotions threatened to overwhelm me. Too many thoughts and feelings raced through my mind at once, leaving me reeling in the aftermath of the harrowing ordeal. In that moment, as our eyes locked in a silent exchange of understanding, the boundaries between us blurred, and I found myself clinging to the unexpected connection that had emerged between us in the midst of chaos. Chapter 3 - Luxury John crouched in front of me, his concern etched on his face. "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" he asked, his voice gentle yet firm. I shook my head weakly, huddling closer to my knees on the sleeping bag. His eyes scanned the alleyway, taking in the scattered contents of my backpack. "Is this where you've been staying?" he inquired, his tone filled with both curiosity and concern. I nodded silently, feeling a rush of shame at the admission. "I'm sorry you had to see me like this," I murmured, unable to meet his gaze. "I'll just gather my things and leave." As I started to clumsily gather my belongings and was about to stand up from my spot, I noticed the puddle underneath me and the wet clammy feeling of my pants. I must've wet myself out of fear. My face blushed crimson as another pang of shame overcame me. My pace quickened in an effort to get out of this situation as quickly as possible. "Felicity, wait," John said as he gently grabbed my arm, preventing me from packing any further. "Feli," I corrected softly, feeling a wave of vulnerability wash over me as I avoided his gaze. "I like Feli more," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. Slowly, I lifted my eyes to meet his, noticing the genuine concern etched into his expression. He released my arm, realizing he had my attention. "Listen, Feli," John began, his eyes holding mine with a mix of gentleness and authority. "I don't know exactly what your deal is, but I can see you're down on your luck. And I'm sure you have nowhere else to go, right?" he continued, his tone soft yet probing. I nodded meekly, feeling a knot form in my stomach as he scratched the stubble on his chin, his gaze sweeping over the scene before us. "I don't like intruding," he admitted, and I couldn't help but chuckle softly at his remark, recalling our awkward encounter in the café. "But I can't leave a young girl like you out on the streets like this." I looked down, feeling a fresh wave of shame wash over me, making me feel even more vulnerable. "How about you come to my place for tonight? I've got a guest room where you can clean up and get some rest." His gaze fell on the puddle underneath me, and I felt my cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Does that sound good?" John asked, his voice tinged with concern. I hesitated for a moment, weighing my options. Despite my apprehension, the thought of a shower and a bed was too tempting to resist. I nodded meekly, realizing I had little choice but to trust him for now. With a sense of gratitude mingled with uncertainty, I allowed John to help me pack up my few belongings. Together, we made our way down the alley towards the street where a car was waiting for him, ready to take me to a place that was entirely unfamiliar yet offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of the night. As we settled into the backseat of the car, the driver spoke up from the front. "Good evening, Mr. Harrington. Am I still bringing you back to your place?" he inquired, glancing at me through the rearview mirror. "Yes, please bring us home, Chuck," John confirmed, his voice carrying a note of weariness. The level of wealth where you could afford your own personal driver wasn't foreign to me, but it had been quite a few years since I'd experienced it firsthand. I sighed softly as I slumped back into my seat, feeling the uncomfortable wetness of my pants clinging to me, the exhaustion of the encounter finally catching up with me. As we passed through the bustling streets of NYC, my head rested against the cool window, my gaze fixed on the vibrant lights of the nightlife swirling by in a blur of colors and motion. A mix of uncertainty and hope tugged at my mind, a feeling that had become all too familiar to me lately. Amidst the chaos of the city, I couldn't help but wonder what lay ahead for me in this unexpected turn of events. We entered the underground garage, bidding farewell to Chuck as he drove off. The dimly lit space felt strangely quiet after the chaos of the city streets. Following John, we made our way to an elevator, and he pressed the topmost button. The realization dawned on me that John's wealth surpassed what I had initially assumed, a notion that left me both impressed and apprehensive. As we ascended in the elevator, a sense of awkwardness settled between us, the silence punctuated only by the soft hum of the machinery. Finally, the doors opened, revealing a narrow hallway with just one door at the end. A penthouse, I surmised, my heart pounding with a mix of curiosity and trepidation. John opened the door, inviting me into a world I had thought I would never see again. "Make yourself at home," John said, leading us through a small entryway into a sprawling living space. My eyes widened in awe as I took in the grandeur of the room. A luxurious couch sat in front of a massive TV atop a faux fireplace, exuding an air of opulence. One wall was dominated by a floor-to-ceiling window, offering a breathtaking view of the city below. I couldn't help but grimace as I spotted my parents' skyscraper in the distance, a stark reminder of the world I had left behind. An archway led to a spacious kitchen and dining area on one side of the room, while a few steps ascended to a corridor on the other. John guided me down the corridor and opened the first door on his right, revealing the large guest room. A queen-size bed occupied one wall, with a TV mounted opposite and a dresser beneath. In one corner, an en-suite awaited, offering a welcome respite from the chaos of the streets. "There's shower gel, towels, and spare toothbrushes. Do you need anything else?" John asked, his voice filled with genuine concern. I shook my head, still stunned by the luxury and overwhelmed with gratitude. "Alright, I'll let you get cleaned up then," he said, turning to leave before pausing. "Oh, and are you hungry?" My stomach growled involuntarily, betraying my hunger. I was about to decline, not wanting to impose, but John's grin softened my resolve. "I'll make some sandwiches. Just join me in the kitchen when you're done," he said, offering a glimmer of warmth in the midst of uncertainty. With that, he left the en-suite, closing the door behind him, leaving me to soak in the surreal reality of my surroundings. As the warm water cascaded over me in the shower, washing away the grime and weariness of the night, a sense of clarity began to seep back into my mind. "I guess now I have to at least hear him out on his offer," I mumbled to myself, the words echoing in the solitude of the bathroom. Stepping out of the shower, I dried myself off and donned a shirt and sweatpants from my backpack, feeling a semblance of comfort return with each familiar garment. With hesitant steps, I made my way towards the kitchen, where John sat at the dining table, enjoying a sandwich. An identical one sat on a plate opposite him, awaiting my arrival. I sat down, muttering a quiet "Thank you," before taking a bite of the sandwich, savoring the simple pleasure of a warm meal. As I ate, John began to speak, his voice calm yet determined. "Alright, here's the deal," he started, pausing between bites. "I'll let you stay the night and get some rest, and I'll be gone already when you wake up tomorrow." He continued, outlining my options for the following day. "Either you leave before I'm back from work, and I'll leave you alone from now on," he explained, his gaze searching mine for any hint of reaction. "Or you decide to stay and hear out my offer when I come home from work." I swallowed my bite of sandwich, considering his words carefully. "Why don't you just tell me about the offer right now?" I asked, my curiosity piqued. But John shook his head, his expression unreadable. "I can't," he replied firmly. "Not yet, at least. But I can tell you tomorrow evening. You're still free to decline once you've heard it, however." I nodded in understanding, realizing that there was more to this offer than met the eye. With a sense of anticipation tinged with apprehension, I finished my sandwich, knowing that the following day would bring with it a decision that could change the course of my life. "Go and get some rest," John commanded, his tone firm yet not unkind, as he cleared away our plates and brought them to the kitchen. I couldn't help but feel a shiver run down my spine at his authoritative demeanor, but in the face of his generosity, I complied with his request nonetheless. As I settled into the plush comfort of the bed, the warmth enveloping me like a gentle embrace, I made a silent vow to myself. I wouldn't let fear or uncertainty hold me back any longer. I would hear him out the next day, whatever his offer may be. "I just really, really hope it's nothing sexual," I whispered to myself, the words lingering in the quiet of the room as I drifted off to sleep, my mind filled with thoughts of the unknown future that awaited me. I woke up the next day, feeling surprisingly refreshed after a restful night's sleep. As I stretched and shook off the remnants of sleep, a sense of vitality surged through me. It had been a while since I had slept so well. Venturing out of the guest room, I found myself alone in the spacious apartment. John had already left, as he had promised. I made my way to the living room, drawn by the allure of the sprawling cityscape visible through the window. The sight of the Sterntal Technologies skyscraper in the distance stirred a mix of emotions within me, a constant reminder of my past. "Make yourself at home," John's words echoed in my mind, and I resolved to do just that. Pushing aside the thoughts of my parents, I strode into the kitchen, where a delicious breakfast awaited me. The aroma of bacon, eggs, and pancakes filled the air, making my mouth water in anticipation. To my surprise, there was a small note waiting for me on the table. "Make yourself at home. I'll be back at 6. See you then! -J," it read, a simple yet thoughtful gesture. I couldn't help but wonder if John already knew that I would stay to hear him out. With gratitude in my heart, I sat down and began to savor the hearty breakfast, allowing myself to indulge in the simple pleasures of the moment, grateful for the warmth and hospitality that John had extended to me. As the hours passed by, I found myself unable to shake off the nervous anticipation that gripped me like a vice. Despite my initial intention to relax and enjoy the comforts of John's penthouse, the looming uncertainty of the evening weighed heavily on my mind. I tried to distract myself by flipping through channels on the TV, but my attention kept drifting back to the impending conversation with John. What could his offer possibly be? And more importantly, what would it mean for my future? With each passing minute, my nerves seemed to intensify, the unknown stretching out before me like an endless abyss. Despite my best efforts to quell my anxieties, I couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of my stomach, reminding me of the high stakes of the decision that awaited me. I was sprawled out on the couch, a large glass of juice sitting on the table in front of me when I heard the front door open. Glancing at the clock, I realized it was only 5 pm. Curious, I craned my neck to peer over the back of the couch toward the entryway, where a woman emerged carrying two bags of groceries. Our gazes met, and a moment of surprise passed between us. "Oh, hello, miss..." she began, expecting me to fill in the pause with my name. "Feli," I replied, offering a small smile. "Okay, Miss Feli, my apologies. I didn't know Mr. Harrington had a guest over," she continued, her tone polite yet curious. I chuckled softly at that. "It's just Feli," I clarified, feeling a pang of discomfort at the formalities. "That's short for Felicity." She nodded in understanding, her warm smile never faltering. "Who are you?" I questioned, returning the inquiry. "Call me Marge," she replied with a friendly smile, radiating a sense of maternal warmth. "I'm here to cook dinner for Mr. Harrington... and you, I guess?" she explained, her tone tinged with uncertainty. "I guess so," I replied with a shrug, watching as she excused herself to the kitchen to begin her work. As the minutes ticked by, I found it increasingly difficult to focus on the TV, my nerves getting the better of me. The tantalizing aroma wafting from the kitchen only served to heighten my anticipation, each passing moment feeling like an eternity. Then, at precisely 6:05 pm, the front door swung open once again. "Feli, I'm home," John called out, his voice carrying a sense of warmth and familiarity. I couldn't help but marvel at how confident he seemed that I would stay, a realization that brought a small smile to my lips as our gazes met. Despite my lingering nerves, I felt a wave of relief wash over me at the sight of him. His warm smile was infectious, filling me with a sense of comfort and reassurance. While uncertainty still loomed on the horizon, the curiosity about his offer outweighed any lingering apprehension. I returned his smile, genuinely happy to see him. As he made his way toward me, I couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude for the unexpected turn of events that had led me here. Whatever lay ahead, I was determined not to miss out on the opportunity that lay before me, embracing the luxury and possibility that surrounded me in John's penthouse. Marge emerged from the kitchen just as John grabbed the TV remote and switched off the TV. "Did she behave?" he asked, his gaze directed at Marge. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks as he spoke over my head about me. "Yes, Sir, Miss Feli behaved like an angel," Marge replied with a warm smile, her eyes flickering between John and me. We both chuckled at her formal address using my nickname, but I couldn't help but feel puzzled by their conversation. Why were they discussing my behavior as if I weren't in the room? And why did Marge feel the need to comment on it when we had barely interacted since she arrived? "Good to hear," John replied, grinning down at me with that mischievous twinkle in his eyes that I had come to detest. "Dinner is served, Sir," Marge announced politely, breaking the momentary silence. "Thank you, Marge. You're excused," John replied, and Marge quickly gathered her things and left the penthouse. As John and I made our way toward the dining table, I couldn't shake the lingering sense of unease that had settled over me, a feeling that this dinner would bring with it more than just good food and polite conversation. We ate in silence for a while, savoring the delicious meal that Marge had prepared for us. The flavors danced on my tongue, and for a moment, I allowed myself to forget about the weight of the impending conversation. John broke the silence as he took a sip from his glass of wine, his expression warm and genuine. "I'm glad you decided to stay," he said, his smile reaching his eyes. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks at his words. "Well, the least I could do is hear you out after you've been so nice to me," I mumbled back, my voice barely above a whisper. I took another forkful of the heavenly food, grateful for the distraction it provided from the nervous tension that lingered between us. As John returned with two sets of papers and a pen, my heart skipped a beat at the sight. The weight of the moment hit me like a ton of bricks, the reality of the situation sinking in with each passing second. Just moments ago, it had all felt like a dream, but now, faced with the official-looking documents in front of me, it was undeniably real. He sat down opposite me, presenting one set of papers while holding onto the other. I could feel the tension in the air as he explained, "This is an NDA, a Non-Disclosure Agreement you need to sign. Once you've signed this, I can sue you if you tell anyone about what you're going to hear today. Marge also had to sign one before working for me." My throat went dry as I glanced over the paper, knowing full well the gravity of what I was about to agree to. I knew I needed to read it thoroughly before putting pen to paper. Skimming through the document, I confirmed that it was indeed just an NDA, outlining the terms of confidentiality regarding the information I was about to receive. Satisfied that I understood its contents, I took a deep breath and put my signature at the bottom of the page. Looking up at John expectantly, I braced myself for whatever revelation awaited me. As John placed the other set of papers in front of me, I felt a surge of apprehension coursing through me. But before I could even glance at the documents, he kept his hand on them and locked eyes with me, his gaze warm and sincere. "Now that you've signed the NDA, I can tell you about the offer," he began, his voice steady yet tinged with a hint of anticipation. My heart hammered in my chest, and I could feel the nervous energy building inside me as I awaited his next words. "Long story short: I want you to become my baby for a month," he stated, the words hanging in the air between us like an electric charge. My mind reeled at the unexpectedness of his proposition, and I struggled to comprehend the full implications of what he was suggesting.

Chapter 1 "I know someone for whom it's time for bed," I interrupted the peaceful puppet show of my little sister on the living room floor in a tone that, to my shock, almost sounded like my mother's. "Please Emily, just a little bit longer, I'm not tired yet," begged Sophie, looking at me hopefully with her big, brown eyes. It was the usual evening drama she played when she had to go to bed. "No Sophie, it's bedtime now, there will still be a tomorrow to play," I explained to her clearly. I had more than enough of her daily, evening disagreements. "But...," she started to whine, but I cut her off. "No Sophie, it's bedtime now, no arguing!" Sophie pouted, but when I took her by her hand, she got up without any further grumbling and allowed me to accompany her to the bathroom without resistance. After a few meters, I noticed that her walk was a bit odd. She was walking with her legs much more spread apart than usual, as if she were imitating the walk of a duck. At first, I thought it was just another game of hers, a way to make the trip to the bathroom more exciting. A Game that she might have learned at kindergarten. But then, suddenly, I realized why she was walking so strangely. "Sophie, can you wait a moment please," I asked her with a sense of foreboding, and stopped. I lifted her summer dress and saw that her pull-up was completely soaked. It was almost a miracle that she hadn't leaked yet. " You're supposed to tell me when you need to go potty," I scolded her sourly. She looked down ashamed. "I was having so much fun playing, I didn't want to stop, and then suddenly I had to go potty before I could say anything." Sophie was a highly advanced child for her age of four. Her language skills were significantly above average, and she could not only read the entire alphabet, but also already write several words. Even simple addition problems were not a problem for her. Despite her remarkable intellectual abilities, she struggled with potty training. She still often woke up with a wet diaper and had more accidents during the day than a typical girl her age. My mother had tried every imaginable method to help Sophie overcome this issue, but with no avail. She even experimented with alternative therapies, like Bach flower remedies and Homeopathy, but as expected, they were of no assistance either. Typically, I would have put Sophie on the potty one last time before bed, like every night, but I could spare myself this step now. Instead, we just made a quick stop in the bathroom to brush our teeth. Then I took Sophie to her room, where I placed her on the changing table. I removed her dress, took off her wet pull-up, cleaned her privates, and sprinkled some baby powder on her diaper area. Finally, I put her in one of her nighttime diapers. "Is this the pajama you'd like to wear, my dear?" I asked my little sister, offering her the princess-printed sleepwear she loved so much. She beamed with joy and put on pants and top with my assistance. "And which story would you like for bedtime tonight?" I asked, giving her the option to choose, even though I already knew the answer. With a loud rustling of her diaper, Sophie scampered over to her bookshelf, and, as she does every night, pulled out the storybook about the adventures of a little princess. "What a surprise," I said with a touch of sarcasm as I took the book from her hand, but she simply smiled contentedly. To my surprise, Sophie was still enamored with the book, despite having memorized every story inside and out. "Will Mum come to give me a goodnight kiss?" Sophie wanted to know as I helped her into bed and looked at me hopefully. "Mum is still out and won't be home until later, but I'm here if you need anything". Immediately, any trace of a smile disappeared from her face, although this situation was nothing unusual for her. Our mother was a highly sought-after lawyer and often had to work late at her office. In such cases, I was often the one who had to pick Sophie up from kindergarten and take care of her until our mother returned. Only on days when I couldn't or didn't want to, a babysitter looked after her. "Mom will give you a kiss as soon as she's back," I cheered up Sophie. "Remember that your potty is right beside your bed in case you need to use it during the night. And if you don't want to go by yourself, you can always call me," I reminded her, as I usually did, in the hope of preventing any nighttime accidents. "I know," Sophie replied with a touch of frustration, having heard this reminder every night before bed. It would only have been nice if she had finally put this knowledge into action. "The little princess lived in a grand and magnificent castle," I started reading to Sophie, and before long, her eyes began to close. So much for her insisting she wasn't tired yet. I continued reading a bit longer, until I was certain that she was soundly asleep and wouldn't stir even if I stopped the story. I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead and tiptoed out of her room. Chapter 2 The pleasant chirping of birds in the garden woke me up from my dreams the next morning. Only two weeks ago I had finished my final school exams and it was still unusual for me not to be woken up by the annoying melody of my alarm clock. Finally, I was free, I was no longer forced to adjust my sleep rhythm to the early morning school hours. I could get up and go to bed whenever it suited me. Of course, I was aware that once I started to go to university, the morning sleep-in would also come to an end, but for now I was going to enjoy every moment of my temporary freedom. Unfortunately, this freedom was still quite lonely. As soon as I had finished my final exams, my mother, my younger sister, and I moved from the city to the countryside. My mother had long dreamed of a small cottage, and she took the opportunity provided by the end of my school years to start a new life in a more idyllic place. Admittedly, the old house and the surrounding countryside were beautiful, but it didn't change the fact that it now felt like we were living at the end of the world. There was no club or bar in the immediate vicinity and nothing else to pass the time as a young person. Without a car, you were completely helpless here and I had neither a vehicle nor a driver's license. As a city child, I had never seen the need to waste my time with tedious driving lessons when you could get around more quickly by bike or public transportation in an urban area. But in the end, it didn't matter that I was not mobile here, it didn't matter that I didn't know anyone my age yet, because in no time at all I would be moving far away to England, the location of my new university. I was about to drift back to sleep when I suddenly realized something was amiss. The area around my buttocks felt uncomfortably wet. Had I sweated excessively in my sleep, causing the mattress to become soaked? But why did only the area around my buttocks seem to be wet? I wondered if I had gotten my period, but it was hard to imagine that the little bleeding I normally had could have caused such a mess. I quickly realized what had happened as I lifted my bedspread and discovered a circular, yellow stain around my buttocks on the otherwise pristine white bedsheet. I had clearly wet the bed, even though it seemed surreal at that moment. After all, I had enough experience finding Sophie's mattress in a similar state when we tried letting her sleep without a diaper at night, to know what such a mishap looked like. Repulsed by the wet, already smelling urine that now also stung my nose, now that the bedspread no longer trapped the odor, I rolled out of bed and immediately stripped off my pajama pants, which were also soaked with urine. No one was ever allowed to know about this mishap. I was 19 years old, not four like my sister. There was no excuse for such an accident at my age. I couldn't even imagine what my mother or friends would think if they found out. I could already picture the rumors spreading through my social circle and my new village. "Have you heard, Emily still wets the bed at 19 years old." I had to act fast. I quickly thought through my options. If I threw my bedding into the washing machine before anyone saw it, no one would ever know about my accident. I quickly took off my sheet from the mattress and also removed the covers. However, now that the mattress was uncovered, my mistake was even more obvious. The big yellow stain in the center of the white mattress was unmistakable and would immediately reveal what had happened to anyone who saw it. I had to turn the mattress over to completely hide the urine stain, but just at the moment I was about to start, there was a knock at the door. "Emily?" I heard my mother's voice. "Please don't come in," I panicked, but as usual, she had already entered without waiting for my permission. "I told you not to come in! You always come in without waiting for me to say it's okay," I yelled at my mother while desperately trying to position myself so she couldn't see my bedding and bed. "I'm sorry, I just wanted to quickly ask if you could unload the dishwasher later, after all, you shouldn't have much to do otherwise," she explained apologetically, but didn't make any effort to leave my room and instead looked curiously inside. She must have just been about to leave the house to go to the kindergarten and then to her office, since she was already holding my little sister at her hand. "Why isn't Emily wearing any pants?" my little sister innocently asked my mom when she saw me. I blushed. Out of sheer fear that my sheets and my bed could be seen, I had forgotten that I was standing half-naked in front of them, giving them an optimal view of my uncovered vulva. I couldn't recall the last time my mother had seen me this exposed, but regardless of when it was, it must have been before I hit puberty. "Uh, I was just about to change", I stammered and quickly brought my hands down to conceal my privates. "Why did you make your bed so early?" My mother wondered as she noticed that my sheets were lying behind me. "Did you get your period and is there some blood on the bed?" "Uh, yeah, that's right” I lied, grateful for this plausible explanation. Unfortunately, it didn't have the desired effect, and she didn't leave me alone. "Is there any stain on the mattress too? You need to act quickly if you want to remove it completely," she explained and before I could do anything, she stepped further into my room and looked at my exposed mattress. She appeared stunned. "Did you wet the bed, Emily?" she asked, clearly in disbelief. The question was rhetorical, she didn't need a response to know what had happened. I was speechless. I stood there, my face red, covering my nudity with my hands and hoping it was just a nightmare from which I would soon wake up. Unfortunately, it was not a dream, and I had to confront the unpleasant truth. To my shock, my mother reacted in the same way she always did when my younger sister had an accident. "Oh Emily, it can happen to everyone," she comforted me in a loving tone. Most people would probably argue that my mother's sensitive and considerate response was a positive thing, something to be happy about, but I would have preferred if she had screamed at me from the bottom of her heart. By reacting to my misfortune in the same way she reacts to my little sister's, I felt like she was equating me with a toddler who was expected to wet the bed once in a while and could therefore not be blamed. "We really have to go now. Are you okay?" my mother asked me with such a soft and concerned voice that I almost started crying. Her caring and considerate demeanor only made me feel that the whole thing was even more of a disaster than I had initially thought. I could only nod silently, as I knew that one more caring word would finally make me cry. "Just put the sheets in the washing machine and let the mattress air out before putting on new sheets," she instructed as she was already walking out the door. "Don't worry Emily, it's probably just a one-time thing. We'll see you tonight," she said finally and in the next moment she was gone with my little sister. Hardly had I been alone when I could no longer hold back my tears. For the rest of the day, I was occupied with crying my eyes out. Why did this have to happen to me and why was I so stupid to get caught as well!?

Hi all - this is a new story I'm working on. It's going to be structured in a series of vignettes - I've always loved the "I'm not a little girl! (really!)" series by @Alex Bridges so this sort of draws on the same style. There will be more to come - and this is really my first foray into ABDL fiction at all. So I appreciate any thoughts on it. Thanks! “Mike?....Michael? Wake up…c’mon…wake up.” I stirred from my sleep…i was laying on the couch…there was an unfamiliar cold feeling around my crotch. I looked up; my girlfriend, Alix, was lording over me, a look of concerned frustration on her face. “Michael…um…I think you had an accident in your sleep.” “No…I couldn’t have…” I stammered, my hand slipping down to feel it; the whole area was soaked; my shorts…the blanket…the cushion…”I must have spilled something” “Michael, c’mon,” Alix looked down at me with her hands on her hips. “It smells like piss…come on now…let’s get up and get this figured out.” She pulled the blanket up; the damage was apparent in the natural light of the room. “Jesus Christ Michael,” she shook her head. I knew she was sort of pissed or frustrated because she was using my full name. “Does this normally happen? Are you OK?" I stood up; the air hitting the cool wet patch leading to a chilliness overcoming me. I had had problems with bedwetting as a teenager, but it had been years. I had been feeling ok too; we had just gone on a long hike and had come back and I had passed out sitting next to her on the couch. “N..no,” I sort of murmured. “It must have been exhaustion.” “Maybe,” she said. “We did go a long way today I guess.” She stood silently for a moment. “Let me go throw this in the washer and we’ll figure out what to do next.” She walked off briskly and returned somewhat quickly with some cleaning supplies. As I stood there, half stunned, she sprayed some cleaner and scrubbed the wet spot. Then she turned her attention to me, setting the cleaning supplies down on the floor next to the couch. “Come on baby…let’s go get you cleaned up and out of those clothes.” She led me back toward the bathroom and had me lay down on the floor. There was a tub of baby wipes she always had sitting in her bathroom for her makeup, and she grabbed them and set them down beside me and removed my urine-soaked shorts and underwear. “I…I can do this, Alix,” my face grew red. “I can totally do this, please.” “Shh,” she said. “Let me help you. Please?” I nodded. A smile came across her face and she began wiping me. After a couple times over the nether regions, she asked, “Michael, do you have any other clothes we can put you in?” I thought about it. I hadn’t actually brought a change of clothes since I was planning on going back home after hiking with Alix today as I had a bunch of calls to prep for the next day. Fuck, I thought. “Uh um, actually, no, I don’t think I do,” I shrugged. “I guess I can just go commando?” “God no,” she laughed. “And risk you peeing further on other furniture? I don’t think so. And my undies are out of the question too. I really don’t want them getting soiled either. What ever will we do?” “I can’t just have you lay here on my bathroom floor the whole time until your clothes are dry can I?” She laughed at her own quip. “Wait a minute,” she stood up, “hold on, I got an idea.” She walked out and back toward her bedroom. She reappeared with a rectangular object that she was unfolding…it was a Pull-Up - like something a toddler would wear. “A diaper?” I asked. “It’s not a diaper,” she smirked, “It’s a Pull-Up. I was watching my niece whos still got bedwetting problems as a teen…poor girl...and she had a bag that got left behind. I mean, the bag says they’re for people about your size…” I mean was pretty skinny…but I really wasn’t feeling this. “Nah Alix, it’s OK, I can just go home.” “Michael, come on, don’t be silly…I want to have you here. I don’t want you to run off. But I don’t want you running around my house peeing on my furniture either. How about this? You let me put this on you…and we can go lay and cuddle and order some food and then…I’ll take you out of it later and we can have some grown-up time…deal?” I gazed back up at her, she had a glow about her. She really wanted this. Cuddling did sound nice though. “Ok…deal….” I said. “But you can’t tell anyone about any of this…and this is for today only. I’m not a bedwetter.” “Of course you aren’t,” she chuckled. "big kids go wet-wet at night all the time..." “But yes, it’s our secret. Pinky promise.” “Ok, let’s get this over with then.” I said, resigned to my infantile fate. She kneeled back down and put the pull-up around my ankles and shimmied it up my legs. It strangely fit like well…a diaper. I was today years old when I realized that children’s diapers would fit adults. “Ok, stand up.” I stood up. The bulk of the Pull-Up was both foreign and…oddly soft and comfortable. The colorful, juvenile owl on the front looked at me tauntingly as she pulled at the waist and ran her fingers through the leg holes. Seemingly satisfied, she grabbed my hand and started to walk me out. “Ok cuddle time.” We got to the bed and she gave me a couple taps on my now diapered butt. I climbed in her large, soft bed bed wearing the pull-up and t-shirt (that had somehow missed the deluge of piss earlier) and she stripped down to an oversized t-shirt and boyshorts. She climbed in and I slipped up next to her. I laid my head on her chest. She put my mouth on her nipple, and as I began to suckle into a lull of semi-conciousness, she patted my diapered butt rhythmically as she whispered “good baby…good baby” while I returned to the land of slumber.

Here we go again! This story takes place in the same universe as Classified: A New Life, and if you haven't read that, you should read it first. This is a much less whimsical tale, but one that I hope fleshes out the universe a bit more, as well as being enjoyable to read. It covers some pretty dark stuff as the story goes along, so read at your own risk. Here we go, and please do tell me what you think! ##### Prologue: Starquake “Fuck!” Lily Bronsen snarls. She trembles with rage, wondering how the universe could possibly be so unfair. “What’s wrong?” One of her roommates, Alex, pokes her head out of the kitchen; her blonde hair is tied up in a bun. Alex is a Neutral, and does data-entry for the CLASS branch in their area. “Did you bang your shin on the coffee table again? I keep telling Darren to pick a spot for it.” “No.” Lily snaps, swiping angrily at her eyes and pushing her strawberry-blonde hair out of her face. “I got my results today.” Alex comes over to sit next to Lily on the couch. “What’d you get?” she wonders. “I’m a Little.” Lily says bitterly. “Did you not know that ahead of time or something? I mean...most people don’t suck their thumbs when they get stressed out. Not to mention what happened last week at Shue’s place.” “I was drunk, okay? It’s not like I piss myself regularly or anything.” Lily grumbles. “What about the week before that, at the movie theatre? Or at the concert? Or the theme park?” Alex continues, listing off other embarrassing incidents, as Lily refused to call them accidents. “Too much soda, drunk again, should have gone before we got in line.” Lily huffs. “You got a fucking point to make, ‘Lex?” She growls. “I think you know exactly what I’m saying. One is an anomaly, two is a coincidence, and three is a pattern. We’re at four in the last two weeks alone. I keep telling you to wear protection--it’s not like anyone will see it anyway. Besides, I’m not a Caregiver. I don’t mind helping you out or anything like that, but I shouldn’t have to carry around extra clothes for you either.” Lily blushes. She had been wearing protection on all those occasions. Pull-ups just didn’t work for the magnitude of incidents she’d had, and she’d ended up leaking. She pats down her pockets, looking for her cigarettes and finds them empty. Fucking Darren. “First of all, I didn’t ask you to do that for me. And secondly, what are you saying then?” Lily demands. Alex sets her jaw. “You’d better watch your attitude, Lil. I’ve had a shitty day at work, and I don’t need to deal with your tantrum on top of it.” she snaps. “I’m saying you should have seen this coming miles away. I’ll go and get the ELK, and we’ll figure something out.” Alex disappears for a moment, and then returns with the ELK and a small duffel bag in the same coloring. She opens the container, revealing four tablets, one each of green, yellow, purple, and a white one. Lily tastes each of the colored tablets in turn, mostly to placate Alex while she thinks about how to proceed. She absolutely refuses to become one of them, no matter what. She’s already managed to escape one hellish environment where her every move was decided for her, and she’s not about to go through that again. The yellow candy does taste pretty good though… “So, you’re an L-3.” Alex says. “At least potty training is an option for you, that’s at least something positive…” “How do you know that?” Lily wonders, smacking her lips at the taste of the candy. “That’s literally what the candy is for. The colored coating only tastes good if your biological markers match with that Classification, or something like that, I’m not familiar with the science of it. It’s just to prevent panic attacks over the news.” Alex explains. “You just gave me drugs?” Lily wonders. “It’s just an anti-anxiety thing. Don’t worry. There’s a pull-up in the bag, and I’d like you to put it on, just in case. You’re pretty worked up right now, and I don’t want to clean up any puddles.” Lily immediately stands up, offended and angry at the implication, even if it isn’t exactly off-base. “Oh, fuck you! Really, Lex? I’m not a goddamn baby, or a puppy or whatever, I’m not going to piss on the floor.” “Lily, you’re really trying my patience. I’m only trying to help you out. I might be a Neutral, but I’m this close to taking you over my knee, I swear. If you want to be treated like an adult, then act like it, and let’s have a civil discussion without all the cursing, okay?” “Try it and see what happens, Lex.” Lily snaps, and marches across the room to retrieve her shoes and jacket. “I’m going out. I gotta talk to Bongo and Riceman.” Lily says, double checking that her wallet has actual Coin in it, and not just her card. “Why? All Bongo’s going to do is try to sell you CHITs and fake IDs.” Lily nods. “Exactly.” She zips her coat, too aggressively and makes for the door. “Lily, what the hell are you doing? I know I’m not your Caregiver, but as your friend, this is probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever done. Those CHITs are really dangerous, not to mention illegal, and unless you plan on hacking the CLASS database to change your results, a fake ID is useless.” “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know.” Lily points out. “That’s what Riceman is for.” “Are you insane? You’re trying to prevent an inevitable biological process from happening with a drug that will at best, delay it, and at worst, kill you. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, you’re going to participate in cybercrime while you’re at it!” Alex’s voice gets progressively louder and she takes Lily by the arm. “Yep.” Lily replies flippantly. “I will not be a Little. Look, only like, three people have ever died from doing CHITs, and I’ll be careful. I refuse to end up as a pants-shitting crybaby who’s incapable of living a normal life. Better dead than useless.” she jerks her arm free of Alex’s grip “ I can handle myself.” She steps out into the hallway and slams the door in Alex’s face. ~CSR~ Bongo and Riceman’s apartment is surprisingly clean, Lily thinks. The furniture is old and well-used, but they take care of the things they have. She tries not to fidget as she sits across from Bongo at their kitchen table. Her bladder throbs, but not too urgently. She slides her pile of coin across the table to Bongo who counts it and nods, satisfied. “I’ve gotta go make your new ID and get the CHITS counted out. Be careful with that stuff, Lily, I mean it. Any more than one a day and you’re in for a real bad time.” Bongo say seriously, his dark eyes intense. “They’ll help with the incontinence part of things temporarily. Keeping your cool, and making smart decisions is on you. The Doctor could probably help with a more permanent solution, but he’s on sabbatical and not to be disturbed for anything. This is the best I’ve got.” Bongo says. “And some of the side effects can be pretty wicked, so like I said, one every day.” Lily nods again. “I get it.” She counts out another stack of Coin and passes it to Riceman. She’s just shelled out almost all of her savings, but if it keeps her from ending up in diapers, it’s worth it. “And I can alter some things in the CLASS systems without getting caught, but it’ll only be surface level.” Riceman explains as he scratches at his stubble, his round face serious. “Any kind of deep digging, and you’re fried. You’ll be able to buy booze and smokes, and get into clubs and shit. But buying a car or a gun or anything like that is a no-go. And, don’t get pulled over either.” “I can handle that.” Lily says, swallowing hard. “Is there anything else I should know before we do this?” Bongo stares at her. “Are you sure about this? There’s no reset button for this kind of thing. Once we do this, you’re stuck. You can live as a Neutral for the rest of your days, but if you fuck up at all, game over. And, we won’t be able to help you either, for obvious reasons.” “I understand. I’m sure.” Lily says, with a confidence she doesn’t actually feel. “Okay.” Bongo shares a glance with Riceman, and both of them stand. “Wait right here.” Riceman says. “We’ll be back shortly.” In another moment, they’re gone, leaving Lily alone with her thoughts at the table. What did I just do? Lily wonders.

Here's a short story I've been occasionally working on for a couple of months now. Please let me know what you think. ----- The future was not looking great for Hannah. She was 4 weeks into her first term of college and was already failing three of her four classes, with the fourth hanging on by a mere three percent. She knew she was in trouble but just couldn't find the motivation to go to class or do her homework. She tried researching online to see what she could do to get herself motivated, but often she lacked the follow-through to actually follow the guides. While making her way through the dining hall after lunch, Hannah came across a poster that caught her eye. "Failing your classes?" the large title read. Just below that in a smaller font was "Need help finding motivation? Need a helping hand to help keep you going? Call the number below for help!". At the bottom of the page was a phone number. Knowing that she was running our of time and options, Hannah took a photo of the number and went back to her dorm. When Hannah arrived back at her dorm she was the only one home. Her two other suite-mates must have been eating lunch or at class. Hannah's relationship with them was fairly normal. She wouldn't really consider them friends, but they all got along and could maintain conversation with one-another. After going into her room and closing the door Hannah called the number from the poster. After a few moments of ringing a woman answered, sounding not much older than Hannah herself. "Hello, Christa speaking." The woman said. "Hello! I'm Hannah. I'm calling about the poster at Henshaw University." Hannah responded, a little nervous. "I see. Are you looking for assistance with passing your classes?" "Yes, I am. It's my first term of college and I'm failing almost all of my classes. I just can't seem to force myself to want to pass." "That's perfectly normal for someone like you. College is a big adjustment and some people just need a little extra help getting their feet on the ground. What do you say we meet in person at the Henshaw dining hall in a couple of hours and talk a bit more in person?" "That sounds great! I get out of class at 3:00pm and can meet you right after." "Alright Hannah, I'll see you then. Bye bye." Christa said has she hung up. ----- Hannah was nervous all throughout her 2:00pm U.S. history lecture. She was having trouble paying attention most of the time, and when she actually tried she was so lost that it almost wasn't worth it. Once the class was over Hannah made her way to the dining hall, having absorbed nothing. When she arrived at the dinning hall she spotted a tall brunette woman standing right outside the cafeteria. The woman was wearing business casual clothing along with short heals, giving her an almost intimidating look. Hannah's gut told her that it was Christa. 'Hello. Are you Christa?" Hannah asked as she approached the woman. "Why yes, I am. You must be Hannah. It's nice to meet you in person." Christa said, reaching out to shake Hannah's hand. Hannah shook Christa's hand and took a moment to analyze Christ further. She seemed to be somewhere in her mid to late twenties. Her long, straight brown hair was hung up in a ponytail. Christa probably had a good 7 inches of height on Hannah, which contributed further to her intimidating aura. "Well, why don't we take a seat and we can talk about what you need and what I can provide." Christa said as she lead Hannah to empty table. Hannah sat down across the table from Christa. Hannah was having trouble making eye contact due to her nervousness. "Let's start with why you called me." Christa started. "W-well, as I said on the phone this is my first term of college and I'm failing nearly all of my classes." Hannah explained. "I see. And why is that?" "I have a hard time paying attention in class and I can never bring myself to do my homework. Every time I try I end up getting demotivated and can't focus." "Is that so? I'm thinking that my services would be a good fit for you. What classes are you taking?" "College Algebra, Beginners Writing, Art History, and U.S. History." "And what are your grades like?" "I have a 27% in math, 49% in writing, 72% in Art History, and a %36 in U.S. History." I answered, a bit embarrassed. "Oh, wow. If you don't get those up you won't be looking good for next term. It's a good thing you are taking action now. Midterms are next week, so you may still have time to turn this around. What I think this boils down to is a lack of discipline and motivation on your part. I'm guessing your parents helped keep you on track in high school?" Christ asked. "That's right. My mom and dad were always checking my grades making me do my homework. They're hundreds of miles away now, though." Hannah explained, realizing a little how much she was missing them. "And that's the case for a lot of people like you. You've had someone watching over you and making you do your school work your whole life. Without those hands pushing you to succeed, you're losing pace and falling behind. What I do is act as that hand. I'll give you the motivation you need to keep your grades up while also helping you develop routines and self-discipline so that you can be your own pushing hand. Do you want to know more?" Christa asked me. It was honestly all starting to make sense to Hannah now. Back in high school her parents were always threatening her with groundings for not doing her homework. They were always checking her grades and questioning her about low scores or missing assignments. When she had that her grades were fine. But her parents were hundreds of miles away now, and she had only herself to rely on. Realizing there wasn't any immediate consequence for failing, she let myself slip into a cycle of bad habits. "Yes. I think this might be exactly what I need." Hannah answered. "I think so too. Now, I will warn you that my methods are fairly unconventional. I have found that it's better if I don't explain them until it's time to implement them, as my clients sometimes get cold feet after hearing my plan. I want to assure you that I have a very high success rate though." That made Hannah even more nervous. What could be so bad about what Christa does? Would she also get cold feet if she knew what they were, she wondered? In truth it hardly even mattered to her at this point. If she couldn't change course then she was going to sink. This could be her only chance to turn her future around. "I'm still interested. As I see it this might be my only chance at staying in college." Hannah stated. "Then I think we have come to an agreement. I have some paperwork here for you to sign. Once it's complete I will work with the school to bill your financial aid account. I charge a flat fee of $60 a week and require payments for a full term." Christa explained as she handed Hannah multiple pieces of paper. The first form was a general information form. It asked for Hannah's personal information, as well as her student ID number and dorm room number. The second, third, and forth pages were all legalese, which Hannah was having a hard time understanding. Eventually she gave up, assuming it to just be consent to let Christa bill Hannah's account and other mundane information. At the very end it asked for Hannah's signature, which she penned in without a second thought. "Very good. I look forward to working with you Hannah. We'll get started tonight. I am going to come over to your dorm at 6:00pm. I want you to eat dinner beforehand and be ready for me, with all your uncompleted homework. I also want you to setup proxy access to your account for my email address, so that I can monitor your grades." Christa instructed, handing Hannah a business card that listed her email. "Alright. I'll see you tonight then!" Hannah said as she left, proud of herself for finally getting her act together. ----- When 6:00pm arrived Hannah was incredibly nervous. Honestly she didn't know what to expect. Was Christa going to act like a tutor? What were her 'unconventional' methods? Was this going to be worth the money? She had done everything that Christa had asked of her. Her homework was either sitting on her desk or pulled up on her laptop. She had granted Christa access to view her grades as soon as she got back. Hannah was waiting in her room when there was a knock on the door. Hannah got up to answer it, but one of her suite-mates who was lounging in the living room beat her to it. "Hello. I'm looking for Hannah?" Hannah heard Christa ask from the other room. "She's in her room right now. I'll go get her." Angie, Hannah's suite-mate, said. Angie didn't have a chance though, as Hannah left her room to welcome Christa inside. "Christa! Hello! Please, come inside." Hannah said as she approached the door. "Ah, hello Hannah." Christa replied. "Angie, this is Christa. She's going to help me get my grades up." I explained. "Wait? Christa Morris? I think you may have helped my sister when she was in college. She has never told me much about it, but she said you're the reason she got through college." Angie stated. "I am glad I was able to help her! What is her name?" Christa asked Angie. "Elanor Grace." Angie answered. "Oh I remember Elanor! Yep, I helped her get through her sophomore year. I'm happy to hear that she made it all the way through. If you see her please tell her I said hello!" Christa requested. After a little bit more idle chatter Hannah led Christa back to her room. Once inside Hannah shut the door and Christa placed the bag she was carrying down onto the bed. "That's a big bag. What's in it?" Hannah asked. "Just some supplies. You'll see when we get to it. Is that all of your homework on your desk?" Christa asked. "Oh, yes. I also have the online assignments pulled up on my laptop." "Very good. Now, let's get down to business. If you remember, this afternoon we talked about you having a lack of motivation and needing a pushing hand. Well, that's exactly what I plan on giving you. Tell me, Hannah, how did your parents discipline you when you were having trouble in school?" Christa asked. "They usually grounded me or at least threatened to." Hannah answered, a bit embarrassed. "I see. Well I am going to take a similar approach with you. Have you ever been spanked Hannah?" Christa asked with no hesitation. "Spanked?!" Hannah responded, a bit startled. "Yes. Has your parents or anyone else ever given you a spanking?" Christa asked again. "N-no!" Hannah answered, almost a bit defensive. "It's okay, you don't need to get worked up. I found in the past that groundings are too hard to enforce on a college student. That, along with numerous other reasons, is why I opt to use spankings as a punishment. Bad grades and missing assignments earn my clients a spanking, with the duration and intensity being decided by the severity. It helps give them a motivation to succeed, so that they can avoid future spankings. I think that's where we'll start tonight." Christa said, as if it was completely normal. "Y-you're going to spank me?" Hannah asked, her heartbeat rapidly rising. "Correct. Come on over." Christa instructed, taking a seat in Hannah's desk chair. Hannah was scared. She had never been spanked before and she certainly wasn't expecting them to be a part of this. Christa's reasoning made sense to her but she just couldn't imagine herself being spanked. Spankings were for kids and Hannah was an adult. "Come on Hannah, let's get your spanking out of the way. We have a lot to do tonight" Christa said, patting her lap again. "I-I don't know, Christa. Isn't that a little extreme?" Hannah asked, scared and embarrassed. "Nope. In fact, I think it's exactly what you need. Now come on. Don't make me drag you over here." Christa threatened. Hannah gulped as she slowly started approaching Christa. Once close, Christa took hold of her arm and gently guided the small girl over her lap. Due to Hannah's short stature she was left dangling well above the ground. Hannah's breathing and heartbeat increased even more once she was positioned. She felt like she was two feet tall. Hannah yelped when she felt Christa's fingers slip beneath her pants. Christa wasted no time in sliding them down to Hannah's ankles. Hannah blushed as her panties were exposed to the older girl. That couldn't compare to how embarrassed she was when she felt Christa's fingers hook onto the back of her panties. "H-hey!" Christa said as her panties were slid down to her ankles. "Spankings are given bare-bottom, Hannah. Now I'm going to explain how this is going to go. You'll be spanked one minute for every grade of yours below a 'C' and half a minute for every 'C'. Once we're done with that you'll get a paddle swat for every missing assignment you currently have. It looks like tonight's spanking will last three and a half minutes with 9 paddle swats afterword. Do you have any questions before we start?" Christa asked. "Will it hurt?" Hannah asked, more nervous than she'd ever been before. "Yes, Hannah, it will. The pain will help motivate you to do better and avoid more spankings in the future. You should think about what earned you this spanking and what you're going to do to avoid another one." Christa said, taking on a more domineering tone. "W-wait! Won't Angie and Sierra hear?" Hannah asked, trying to think of a way out of this. "I would be surprised if they didn't. Don't worry though. Once we explain to them that it's for your own benefit I'm sure they'll understand. Maybe in the future they will be willing to help with your spankings as well." Christa answered. "C-can't we think of something else?" "No, Hannah. Now no more stalling. I'm going to set my timer and start. Are you ready?" "N-no." "Well you have a few seconds to prepare." Christa rested her arms on Hannah's back while she set a timer on her phone. Once it was ready she clicked 'start' and used her right hand to deliver the first smack to Hannah's bottom. The first spank caused Hannah to let out a small yelp. The small girl clearly was not ready for what was about to come. Christa steadily delivered swat after swat to Hannah's exposed butt. Each one sent a jolt of pain through the smaller girl's backside and caused her to let out a whine. As the spanking continued the swats became harder and the speed picked up. It didn't take long for Hannah's whines to turn into expressions of pain. Hannah was terrified. She had no clue how long had passed since the spanking started and her bottom felt like it was on fire. Each swat was more painful than the last. Before long she could feel tears begin to well-up in her eyes. Not long after they were streaming down her face. Suddenly Hannah's door opened. Both Hannah and Christa looked up to see Angie standing there, flustered. "O-oh! S-sorry to interrupt! I was wondering what all that noise was!" Angie said before quickly closing the door. The interruption did nothing to stop Christa's flow. Hard swats continued to rain down on Hannah's defenseless bottom. Hannah's crying and embarrassment was worsened by Angie witnessing her being spanked. Hannah felt like she was half her age. How could she hope to see herself as equals with her roommates after being seen in this state? The spanking continued on with Hannah's whining growing even louder and more desperate. Her bottom was absolutely on fire with a pain she couldn't remember ever experiencing before. Eventually she was fully pleading with Christa for her to stop. unfortunately for Hannah her requests fell on deaf ears. Hannah had no idea how much longer the spanking went on for before she heard Christa's alarm go off. Relief washed over the smaller girl as the slaps to her bottom ceased. The pain was all still there though, radiating an intense heat from her bottom. "Now that that's done we'll move on to the paddle strokes." Christa said, motioning for Hannah to stand up. The intensity of the spanking had caused Hannah to forget all about the nine paddle strokes her missing assignments earned her. A new dread entered her mind as she was reminded. Christa helped her up off her lap and onto her feet. Hannah's legs were a bit wobbly so she had to try her best to maintain her balance while trying to rub the pain out of her bottom. Her balance wasn't helped by her pants and panties, which were still pulled down around her knees. The pain prevented her from recognizing how exposed she was. Christa went over to her bag and pulled out a large, long paddle. When Hannah saw it she became even more scared of what was about to happen. It looked like something you would see used for hazing new pledges in a college movie. When Hannah noticed the grid of holes on the head of the paddle her fear worsened even further. "Okay Hannah, go ahead and bend over and grab your ankles." Christa instructed. "Christa please! I can't take anymore! Can't we just get to studying?" Hannah pleaded. "No Hannah, not until we've got your discipline out of the way. Now bend over, or I may have to add more strokes." Christa threatened, getting a bit annoyed at the younger girls whining/ Hannah gulped as she slowly started to bend over. Her bare bottom becoming more and more vulnerable. When she was and low and she could go she grabbed hold of her ankles and did the best she could to brace herself. Her anxiety grew as she heard Christa approach her. "Tonight you're getting nine paddle swats. One for each missing assignment you have. I want you to count each one out loud. If you miscount or forget then we'll redo that swat. Understand?" Christa explained. "Y-yes." Hannah said, very much unready for what was about to happen. With no warning Hannah suddenly felt pain explode through her bottom. The spankings she got from Christa's hand earlier were nothing compared to what the paddle could do. Hannah involuntarily let out a scream in shock. "One!" Hannah yelled, not wanting any more awful strokes than what she was already getting. Christa drew the paddle back and harshly brought it back down. A loud 'THWAP' quickly followed. Hannah shot forward from pain. She was trying her best to mitigate it with a death grip on her ankles, but it didn't seem to be helping. "Two!" This rhythm continued for the next several swats. Each one drew more tears and painful screams out of Hannah. She was now truly understanding why Christa was so effective. Who the hell would want to suffer this every week?! "Eight!" Hannah cried out shortly after the paddle hit her. Just one more and she was done. It was all she could think about. "Nine!" Hannah yelled right after the final stroke made contact. Hannah instantly removed hold of her ankles and moved on to rubbing her butt. No matter what she did, she couldn't get rid of the pain though. If she thought it was bad after the hand spanking, then this feeling was truly horrid. "Now that your spanking is done we cam move on to part two." Christa said as she went back over to her bag. Hannah could have never guessed what Christa was about to pull out. Out of the bag Christa brought out a large, pink package. Hannah couldn't immediately tell what is was until Christa placed it down onto her bed and she could see the logo. It was a package of children's pull-ups. "W-what are those for?" Hannah asked, still trying to get her sobbing under control. "They're for you." Christa said, as if this was normal. "What? I don't need diapers!" Hannah exclaimed, almost sounding offended. "First off, they're not diapers, they're pull-ups. And second, they're the second part of your punishment." Christa stated. "What?!" Hannah almost yelled. "Calm down Hannah. The spankings serve to give you something to dread. They are to help motivate you to study and do your homework by making you fear a more painful spanking. The pull-ups are used to accomplish the same thing but in a different way. Until you're grades improve and your assignments are turned in your panties are going to be entirely replaced with these. The thick padding and childish designs will embarrass you, motivating you to study and do your homework so that you can earn your big-girl panties back. You can think of them as punishment panties." Christa explained. This was too much for Hannah. Not only had she just been spanked like a child, now she was expected to wear diapers meant for potty training toddlers? The logic behind it made sense to her in a way, but she was a college student for god sake! She was much too old to be spanked and wearing pull-ups. And calling them 'punishment panties' didn't make it any better. "Christa is that really necessary? I'm 18 for crying out loud. I'm way too old to wear those! They probably won't even fit me!" Hannah exclaimed. "Oh I bet you they will. And age has nothing to do with this. I don't expect you to pee in them or anything. They're just there to give you a goal to work towards and keep you motivated. The pain from a spanking will fade in a day or so, but these will always be there to remind you of what you're working towards. Now come here, we've wasted enough time already." Christa ordered. Hannah was trapped. She knew there was no way she was going to talk Christa out of this. Her only hope was that the pull-ups wouldn't fit and Christa would abandon the idea. Shamefully, Hannah waddled her way over to her bed where Christa was sitting. Christa started by pulling down Hannah's pants and panties even farther. She had the smaller girl grab hold of her shoulders while she worked the pants off of her. Next came the panties, leaving Hannah completely exposed from the waist down. Christa then ripped open the package of pull-ups. She pulled one out of the package and allowed Hannah to get a good view of it. The pull-up was all pink. On the front there were several Disney princesses and just below them was a white oval containing an outline of Cinderella's slipper. A wetness indicator. Christa pulled the pull-up open and slipped her hands through the leg holes. She stretched open the object and brought it down towards Hannah's feet, clearly intending for her to step into it. Praying that they wouldn't fit, Hannah hesitantly slipped her foot through the first hole and then the second. Christa then began to work the pull-up up Hannah's legs. To her horror, there was little to no resistance as it got higher. Hannah felt utterly defeated as Christa removed her hands and the pull-up conformed to her body perfectly. "See, I told you they'd fit. Now, as I said before, these are to be your only panties until your grades improve. The only time you're allowed to remove them is when you're showering or using the toilet. I don't care if you're sleeping, going to class, visiting your parents, or whatever else. Your punishment panties stay on. Understand?" Christa said. "Yes Christa." Hannah lightly said while starring down. "Good girl. Now let's get to work. Get started on your math homework and let me know if you have any questions or need any help." Christa said. Hannah was going to put her pants back on to try to hide the pull-up but was forbidden to by Christa. Humiliated, Hannah brought her padded bottom to her desk. The pull-up was much thicker than her normal panties though. As she walked she noticed that it was slightly forcing her legs apart. Not enough to give her a waddle, but enough for her to notice. She also noticed that every movement resulted in a slight crinkle sound. Hannah wasn't ready for the wave of pain that shot through her as she tried to sit down. The pain from her spanking earlier had minor subsided and became relatively unnoticeable as her attention was focused solely on the pull-ups, but when she tried to sit down it was reignited. Hannah quickly shot back up and began rubbing her butt through the back of her pull-up. "Sit down, Hannah. The pain will fade soon." Christa ordered. Hannah slowly lowered herself back down. She winced as her butt made contact with the chair. She kept going though until she was full seated. The pain was horrible at first, but like Christa said it slowly faded. Not enough to not be painful, but enough to where she could divert her attention away from it. Hannah began working on her homework as ordered. She was interrupted minutes later though when she heard activity behind her. She turned around to see Christa going through her dresser, removing all of her panties. "What are you doing?" Hannah asked Christa. "Confiscating your panties so that you aren't tempted to wear them. Don't worry, I'll give them back once your grades improve. Now try to focus on your homework" Christa explained. Hannah turned back around and tried to focus on her homework. She'd occasionally steal glances back at Christa though. At one point she noticed that Christa was filling up the dresser drawer with pull-ups out of the package. There wasn't enough room for all of them though, so Christa just left the half full package exposed on top of the dresser. Hannah could have never imagined herself like this. She though college was her chance to show that she was an adult, yet here she was wearing what was essentially a diaper for toddlers after being spanked like a little kid. The worst part was that she was PAYING for it. Hopefully in the end she would actually be able to pass. It was going to be a long seven weeks.

Hello folks, it has been a significant amount of time since I’ve posted on here or anywhere on DD. To be honest I may not even be familiar with any of the changes so please be honest with me if I’m doing something wrong. I’ve created a short story while I was without power during Hurricane Ian. I’m not going to dress this up but I’m very very new to writing short stories and I wrote this on a tablet so except the usual grammatical errors, spelling errors, etc. If I get enough responses for what I have posted I’ll post the final chapter later on. So please tell me what you like and don’t like, I’m a big boy and I can take the constructive criticism. All characters in this story should be considered 18 years or old. TARGET RUN Chapter 1 - Leaving Home “Come on Jack, baby, we need to get going” I heard the sweet voice of my girlfriend. Our relationship of 4 years had evolved from the traditional boyfriend/girlfriend to something much more involved and intimate. “Honey, mommy isn’t going to call twice. Please hurry up as mommy would like to go to the store and get back home quickly.” Rebecca said but this time with a much more demanding tone. Our relationship went from the “lovey-dovey” type of relationship to a mommy/toddler relationship. Before we even adventured down this path we both came to an agreement on dos and don’ts. Rebecca’s don’ts was a short list while her dos list was significant. However, I had a different mind set and my lists greatly differed then hers. As a compromise I agreed to do a trial run where we would go in levels. The starting level I agreed to start at was potty training. Rebecca would be in charge of my meals, clothing, entertainment, and of course my bathroom habits. I would be wearing disposable training pants such as “Pull-Ups” or “Goodnites” and I needed to ask for help going potty. “I’m coming Mommy, don’t leave me!” I shouted as I stood up off of my play-mat not taking my eyes off the switch’s screen. “If you’re taking your switch with you, you need to leave it in the car when we go inside.” Rebecca said as we walked out the door. Her keys jingled as she locked up behind us and we walked the short distance to the car. Opening the back passenger door would make you believe that the owner of the car had a toddler. a booster seat, “paw-patrol” window screen, and of course remains of gummy snacks and crackers on the floor all pointed to a little one. “Ok, up you go” Rebecca said as she lifted me into the booster seat. Being short and underweight did have some perks. It would be worth it if it didn’t come with so many health related issues that I have. Rebecca buckled me in and gave me a kiss on the check all while I kept happily playing on my switch unphased. “Mommy, where are we going?” “We’re just going to Target honey, Mommy saw that they had underjams in stock” “I roll my eyes as I’ve been trying to not to lose my big boy status and fall a level” With my current toddler / potty training level I was allowed to use the potty I mean bathroom if I could hold it. Rebecca also gave me the option of just going in my training pants and she would change me after. But in doing so I would lose some imaginary points that she keeps score of. Once I lost enough points the rule would be I’m back in diapers for at least one full day and one full night. “ok, but mommy I’m a big boy and I don’t need more training pants” I complain in a whiny voice. “Uhhh, yes you do honey.” “I only had two pull ups left from when I was babysitting my cousin” “You already peed in one and you’ve been wearing the last one since yesterday” “oh” I said shyly as I didn’t want to talk about my previous accident. Chapter 2 - The Home Incident I had been creating my very own mega blocks city with the blocks that Rebecca had gotten me. We had just started that morning with the potty training level that we had agreed upon and I was thoroughly enjoying myself. The minute Rebecca changed me out of my adult pjs into a disney themed pull-up, khaki shorts, and my Nickelodeon theme shirt our relationship flipped. I could already feel the new maternal instinct kick into full effect from Rebecca and I could already tell she was loving it. I had built a post office, fire dept, police station, even a school with how many blocks I had. I was just putting the finishing touches on the top of my skyscraper when all the juice I drank at lunch caught up to me. Wasting no time, I put the last block in place and decided to go look for Rebecca. I made my way into the living room to find Rebecca watching TV “Uhh, mommy, I…” “What is it honey?” “Do you need to go potty?” Rebecca asked as her eyes darted from me holding myself to the plastic white and blue potty in the corner. Just beside the potty on the wall hung a green frogged theme urinal. Rebecca had wasted no time in pulling out all the stops for her new potty training toddler. I couldn’t place where she got the stuff from so quickly which made me believe she must have had it from a previous job or a previous relationship. Mommy wanted to make sure I knew how to pee sitting down and while standing so I didn’t make a mess later when I graduated to big boy undies. “Yes” I stuttered out, It was beginning to feel like the back of my teeth were floating with how bad I had to go. “ok, do you need to go pee pee or poo poo?” Mommy asked, oblivious to the potty dance I was doing. “I just need to go pee” I said squirming around with my hands on my crotch. “ok lets try standing to pee this time and we will do sitting next time” Mommy walks over to me, puts her hands on my shoulders, and walks me over to the frog urinal on the wall. In one swift motion, my khaki shorts, and pull-up are pulled down. I instantly try to cover my pee pee. I mean penis with both hands. “move your hands silly boy, you’re going to get pee pee everywhere” Rebecca says as she swats away my hands and holds my pee pee in hers. “Ok go ahead and pee” she says as she aims me. I slowly let go and manage to pee a quick squirt of pee that turns into a slow steady stream. Just when I get a good stream going I close shut out of embarrassment. My body forgetting where it was due to the pressure on my bladder figured out that it is doing something that isn’t really adult oriented. “All done?” mommy asks as she shakes my pee pee. “Yeah, I guess so” I say red faced. “Ok then” mommy says as she pulls up my pulls-ups, shorts, and buttons them. “Let me know if you need to go potty again or if you need to be changed” she says as she removes the urinal from the wall and heads to the bathroom to empty it. I stare at mommy arms crossed as she walks away “I’m a big boy, I’m not going to pee in my pants”. I watch as mommy stops, turns around, and with her opposite hand pulls me in closer like she was going to hug me. “well big boy” mommy says rubbing my back. “Mommy wants you to know if you DO have an accident or you use your pants. Mommy will still love you no matter what.” Mommy says as she kisses my forehead before swatting me gently on the butt and heading back to the bathroom. I walk away from the experience with mixed feelings, happy but at the same time, still needing to pee. Walking back to my blocks in my room I was met with a decision. I could walk back to mommy to ask to potty again even after saying I was done. Or I could just pee in my pull-ups and pretend it was an accident. My internal thoughts were pulling in both directions before I made the decision. On one hand I would have to face the embarrassment of having to tell mommy that I wasn’t done and having to repeat the whole potty process. While on the other hand I could just relax and let it go but it would be so babish. In the end, my shyness won out and I let go into my pull up. I stood in the middle of the room as I stared downwards on my block set while also relaxing. A hot stream started and hit the front of the pull up before being absorbed. The front begins to swell outwards, taking on a yellow tint color, before starting to run down to the bottom. “Ahhhh” I said to myself as I peed. Just before finishing, a shiver runs down my back causing me to squirm in relief. “I must have had to go more than I thought” I wait a few minutes taking in the new sensations of having wet training pants. “that wasn’t so bad and now I can get back to playing” I thought to myself as I crouched down to begin stacking my mega blocks. “Maybe I’m on to something.” “Instead of going potty I don’t have to ask mommy for help and I get the bonus of not having to stop playing”. “Maybe it is better to go potty in my pants” I think to myself as I set my wet bottom down and begin stacking the tower. ———————————————————————————————————————- Three hours later mommy called for me to come have dinner. Mommy made for dinner chicken Alfredo with cheesy ravioli that you could smell before walking into the dinning room. I was helped into my booster seat before being pushed into the table. When I sat down I could feel the now cold wet training pants clinging to my skin. While eating I begin to squirm trying to get away from the feeling. “Jack do you need to go potty” Mommy asked, staring at me. “No mommy, I don’t need to go potty.” “This booster seat is just uncomf, uncom-fortable” I try adjusting myself to get away from the wetness by raising up and sitting back down. This only caused my pull up to squish more bringing back the cold wet feeling but now I could feel the wetness had traveled more up the back of the pull up. “Well I think we should try because afterwards I want to give you shower with mommy” Mommy says after she helps me down from my booster seat and pulls me over to the blue and white plastic potty.Before I can protest mommy is pulling my shorts down exposing my wet pull up. “Well no wonder you don’t need to go potty, you already went pee pee in your pull-ups mister” Mommy says while pointing out the “fade when wet” design was completely gone and an accompanying yellowish tint could easily be seen. “That also explains why you were so squirmy, not fun sitting in a wet diaper. is it?” Mommy says as she pokes the front of my pull ups. “They’re not diapers, they’re pull-ups and it was an accident” I said with a mean look while crossing my arms. “I bet, pretty sure I saw you shiver like you usually do when you get done peeing. earlier” Mommy said with a puzzled look. She must have peaked into the room after dumping out the urinal and saw me. I got bright red like a firetruck, “you saw that?” accidentally confirming her suspension. “Yes, but it's ok honey. If you don’t want to be a big boy you don’t have to” She said rubbing my back. “Let’s get you out of those wet training pants and into a nice hot shower” Mommy says as she helps me to step out of my shorts and pushes me towards the bathroom. We walk or I should I waddle to the bathroom with my sagging pull-ups. “If you still need to pee pee, go ahead and I won’t it count since you already peed” Mommy said as she dropped by shorts in the laundry hamper and turned on the water. Wasting no time, I let go of a stream that I had been holding during dinner. It wasn’t much but mommy did hear an audible “hsss” sound and chuckled. “You’re too cute” Mommy said, turning around and kissing me on my forehead

Okay everyone, these have been sitting around for a bit and I've had my fun with GoodNites for a while, so I'd like to sell these to someone who will really enjoy them. 1x15 pack of 2001 pre-Trim Fit XL GoodNites - This pack is immaculate, no tears in or on the packaging and all 15 pants are intact. The holy grail for some DLs. Let's say $150 plus shipping or best offer. 1x6 pack of 2004 cloth covered Trim Fit XL GoodNites - I bought these on a whim just to try, and I ended up using over half the pack. Very nostalgic and much cheaper because they are less rare. $30 + shipping or best offer. 1x12 pack of 2011 skater & camo print Boys XL GoodNites - For my money, some of the best GoodNites ever produced. Still very absorbent, strong side elastics, they can be a little tough to put on but they won't rip or tear during the night. $25 + shipping. My price on the 2001 pack is firm, I've done my research but let me know if you have any questions!

I like diapers better than pull-ups. I especially love how someone else has to fasten the tapes up. It makes feel like such a baby and I love it.☺️?♥️ I also love it when they're done changing you and they say "does baby feel better now that we changed his diaper?!"