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By Little Sherri · Posted
Just dropped in to state the obvious, for anyone who's reading this: I don't know how I would get through my day without wearing a diaper. My job has become so busy lately, I have no time to get and do anything, let alone go to the bathroom. My wife has been bringing me my lunch at my desk when she's home. It's nice that I can simply forget about the plumbing department until I stand up to stretch, and realize that my diaper has bulked up a bit. It's also been a crutch for me psychologically - when I have to focus on a task that's not at the top of my list of things to do, I think to myself, "At least I can wear a diaper while I do this..." I think she had gotten used to seeing me up here in my office in a diaper and a golf shirt, dressed for Zoom & Teams meetings where the horizon line is conveniently mid-chest, although with the cooler weather, I have been tending to wear trousers. But it's getting nice out again and we are drifting towards the "pants optional" months, so I shall once again be testing her tolerance. I'm still kind of self-conscious about pacifiers during the day, or really anytime outside of when I'm actually in bed, under the covers. I've accepted that when I'm sleeping and she's watching something on her tablet or phone, that she can see I have a pacifier going, although putting it in is the second last thing I do, followed only by turning out my bedside lamp. As I've explained before, it's at least partially for her benefit - she used to elbow me away some nights because I was clicking my teeth There was a stretch a while ago - a couple of years, actually - where I was working on a big, detailed project, and I started using one while I was concentrating, almost like chewing gum, but once I got back to doing frequent online meetings, I stopped using one during the day. Forgetting your paci is clipped to your shirt could be a career-ending move. I may implement it again - I did find it relaxing, although I don't know if I could "get over myself" enough to actually use it in front of anyone, when I'm not sleeping. I have wondered if a pacifier could be a weight loss crutch, again, like chewing gum - if I used one while watching TV, would I be less compelled to snack? But then I feel like I'd look absurd. But then again, I'm also generally sitting there in a big diaper, so... The ultimate invention would be a pacifier into which you could pour Scotch. Sort of the baby bottle equivalent of a shot glass, with a really tiny orifice... I shall begin assembling the blueprints for the patent office. -
By Ishigreensa · Posted
Larry relaxed on the other bed, and he watched whatever she was watching. Whatever her problems were, and he wasn't really sure what to think about it, he hoped that maybe the wetting was behind her. The child had been through way too much in his mind, and he knew that even an eleven year old child couldn't feel good about being wet all the time. "Do you know any solitaire games?" Larry asked her while they were watching television. "You know, card games that you play against the deck rather than other people?" While traditional games were a thing of the long past, he knew that some computers and smart phone programs existed that not only mimicked the traditional solitaire game and a few other versions of it, but also mimicked Vegas card games, by dealing for more than one person. Larry went and got a deck of cards from his things and brought them over to her. "I can teach you, if you like," he told her. "It's not the same as having an electronic device, but it is something that can be fun when you don't have an electronic device to play with." -
Chapter 11 After uttering those words I was nonplussed by the initiative that milky wanted to begin, on one hoof I was rather curious for what Celestia den looked like, after all I only visited but a fraction of all the palace, but on the other hoof it meant that every servant and other denizens of the manor would see me in such a ridiculous outfit, after all I was their princess not a clown, even though by this point I was pretty sure that every pony knew about me, as I knew that rumors were faster than even the fastest of pegasus. Unfortunately, I did not have much time to linger on the question as Milky dragged me to start the tour of the castle. And what a castle it was, even though I only walked 150 meters before collapsing, the corridor i walked was full of art and luxuries that in the past I was too anxious to truly admire, as geometrical patterns and flowers blended masterfully all within the facade of the wall and roof, but not only that each room of the corridor was separated by statues, each one more beautiful than the other. Yet there was something more at hand, all of the decorations seemed like a facsimile, a way to convey power and status, it didn't feel heartfelt, how typical of Celesetia, even though she tries to change some things forever stay the same. After walking the previously mentioned distance, I was tired and fatigued as Milky picked me up and continued our tour. As we went from corridor to corridor, from section to section things stayed the same, the same dullness to all the decorations, the paintings that seemed to be there for the sake of having something rather than its meaning or the stained glass that portrayed only the uneventful. As Milky explained what each room was and its utility or the meaning of statue n°47, I've seen countless servants and other ponies that seemed of high status glare at me, and not in the most positive way. Some of them snickered and gossiped about me, others saw me with hate and disgust, whilst others simply didn’t care at all about my presence and simply continued with their duties, overall nothing unexpected. I was used to those types of things, it was normal after all, I am worthless as i’ve always been, the difference is that i now knew my place. But it wasn't until three hours later that the only place that I remotely cared finally showed up. “And these are the gardens, they are considered one of the most beautiful places on Equestria and it's also the place where Celestia spends most of her free time” She said with the same enthusiasm as she had 3 hours before the start of the tour. And indeed i could clearly see that being truth, as we entered i saw a string difference between the garden and the rest of the propriety, as Milky guided me through the large gardens, it clearly seemed heartfelt wich was in contrast to the rest of the castle, from the golden apples that i remembered Celestia once threw to me in the head whilst i was out napping, to sunflowers that were her favorite flowers funnily enough. But as we started reaching the end of the garden, a large blank space that had a sign saying “Reserved” appeared, as such I curiously asked Milky. “What i-s it?” “That is a gift from Celestia, she took a spot from another noble and gave it to you so that she could commission the gardeners to plant your favorite flowers” She calmly said. Unbeknownst to myself, I started crying towards the kind gesture, the Celestia I once knew would never ever do something like that. Yet she did, and I felt my body warming itself by her act, especially the lower part. It was probably the first time that I could at least remember doing something truly good to me. Quickly catching my tears, Milky said. “Are you okay?!” She said borderline hysteric. “Blue eucalyptus lilies” I said, still in tears but not ones from pain, embarrassment or sadness but happiness. “I want Blue eucalyptus lilies” I reiterated without stuttering. “Understood” Milky responded, catching that my tears were issued from happiness rather than anything else. “May w–we go ba-back to my room” I said tired after such a lengthy day. “Of course, plus you need a change” She said joyfully. And i indeed needed a change, the warmth from earlier wasnt from my heart but my leaking bladder, figures. As such Milky carried me to my room whilst I was already half asleep, and didn't even react when she changed me to my night diaper, which by some twist of fate, showed prints of a sun, 3 minutes later i fell into morpheus domain. ___________________________________ -Bright Lamp- I was pissed, why some may ask? Because I as a guard had to endure the pain of seeing a demon of the night in proximity to princess Celestia without doing anything. If I had the chance I would without a doubt erase that blight from existence. Fortunately for me, the introduction of nightmare moon to the palace upset many nobles and other politicians who feared losing their power, knowing that it would not be long before they strike. I just had to be patient. ~I just firstly wanted to say thanks for reading my fanfic, but i also wanted to please ask some of my readers if they could please PLEASE reply or at least make your presence known, even a hi would be apreciated, only if to know that there is someone actually reading my works, thanks for reading trough my rant and have a good night!~
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By SashaButters · Posted
“What?” was all Jennifer could manage to get out. Poisoning her? Poisoning her how? “She, she gets confused when she comes out of it.” she explained when she had found her tongue. But she couldn’t get the words out of her head for the rest of the day. The accusation hung over her head all the following week as well, and the weeks after that. Hortensia hadn’t said anything more on the subject and Carol had taken her word for it, but as they sat at the dinner table, another untouched plate in front of the preteen, Jennifer started to wonder. “Tens, we need to talk after dinner.” Jennifer said. “I didn’t do anything.” Hortensia mumbled, elbow resting on the white dining room table cloth, head propped up by her fist. “Yes you did!” Matilda said. “What did I do?” Hortensia argued. “What didn’t you do?” Matilda insisted. “We can talk about it later when Matilda’s in the bath.” Jennifer said. “Tell me now.” Hortensia said in a bored voice. “I don’t care.” Matilda looked up from her plate, hopeful to hear what trouble Hortensia had gotten herself into now, but Jennifer only shook her head. “Later.” Hortensia made a dissatisfied noise. “You can’t just drop a, ‘we need to talk’ on me.” Matilda giggled. “She thinks you’re breaking up with her.” “I do not!” Hortensia grumbled. “Can’t you tell me what it’s about?” “We have a meeting at the police station tomorrow.” Jennifer said. Hortensia’s eyes briefly flicked over to meet hers before looking away. “Matilda, if you’re done eating, please go upstairs and get ready for bed.” “Bed? It’s only six!” “I didn’t say you had to go to bed, I said please go get ready for bed. Take a bath, brush your teeth, put on your pajamas, read.” Matilda slowly slid off her chair and turned to leave. “Put your plate in the sink, please.” Without a word, the plate rose into the air and into the sink before she made her way up the stairs, visibly sulking as she did so. “She’s going to be a handful when she’s a teenager.” Jennifer said, but Hortensia didn’t react. “Why do we have to go to the police station?” Hortensia mumbled after a minute of silence. “I think we’re meeting with the detective, I’m not sure. I just want you to be prepared in case they start asking you questions.” “I don’t know anything.” Hortensia said softly. Jennifer gave her a sympathetic smile. “I know it’s difficult to talk about, trust me, I know, but it’s important they have all the information.” “I don’t know anything.” Hortensia repeated. Jennifer didn’t believe her. There were too many injuries. Too many inconsistencies in her story. Too much pain in her eyes. And the odd erratic behavior. She knew. Drugs or no drugs. She knew. “Okay.” Jennifer said. She wouldn’t push her. “Can I ask you something?” Hortensia wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Are you aware you’ve been, what’s the word, dissociating?” “I don’t know what that means.” Hortensia said into her still full plate as she moved mashed potatoes back and forth with her fork. “Spacing out… intently.. to the point you…” She could see the girl freeze in place even without actually verbalizing it. “Hey, It’s okay.” Jennifer whispered. She could see her eyes growing glossy. Jennifer had obviously struck a sore spot, but it was time it was addressed. She had tried to fish for answers on numerous occasions, but all she had ever accomplished was shutting her down even more. So Jennifer had held her tongue and passed on her symptoms to her doctors, but even she was growing more reluctant. More and more medication was being added, which left her scrambling even more trying to distinguish symptoms from side effects. Repeating words of others? Side effect. Switch medication. Fixes problem. Mood Swings intensify. Increases medication. No energy. Lowers medication and adds a secondary pill. Stomach ache. And on and on it went. But it all still hadn’t fixed the original problem of the trances. Not a side effect. Get referred to a neurologist to check for seizures. Not seizures. Told the source is psychological. Referred back to Psychiatrist. Same run around with the accidents. Everything had healed and there was nothing physically wrong. Which was a relief, in a way. She didn’t have a head injury from the attack, no swollen blood vessels ready to pop, no hemorrhages, no lesions. She had dotted her i’s and crossed her t’s, but It had caused a bit of contempt in their relationship. Doctor’s appointments, medicine, nappies and food. That’s what they always fought over. Not homework, or curfews and bedtimes. Hortensia mumbled something unintelligible before pushing her plate aside and burying her face in the crook of her arm on the table. Her shoulders began to rise and fall as her breath came in great heaving sobs. “So you are in there?” Jennifer asked gently. Hortensia nodded. “Would you tell me what’s going on when it happens?” Jennifer asked. She got up from her spot on the table and came around. “I feel funny.” “Are you upset when it happens?” Hortensia shrugged. Her psychiatrist said it was stress triggered, her way of escaping a difficult situation. “Is it because you’ve had an accident? Are you panicking?” It’s what she had always assumed was going on. Because it didn’t seem like arguing with her set it off, lord only knew how much they fought, and not once had she froze as an out. (And give Jennifer the last word in an argument? Ha!) No, she had never seen Hortensia retreat from any visible stress. She had seen her freeze during dinner while being forced to eat, and while doing lessons, and while yes, that could be seen as a stressful situation, she had also seen her freeze mid Mario Kart race, but she had been doing terribly, crashing into walls and such ( even Jennifer had managed to keep her cart on the track) so maybe losing to your headmistress was considered a stressful event. But, sometimes she just stumbled onto her like that, slouched over on the couch or lying in bed. Or sometimes, she’d smell her from the kitchen and she’d know what she’d walk out to. The soiled nappies were the only constant. Usually she was just wet, but sometimes… she wasn’t. It was… difficult, cleaning those up. Usually Jennifer would put her in the shower and stay with her until she woke up, but sometimes it wasn’t an option. And it wasn’t like she had to clean up every bowel movement. It was more like once a week. Her fecal continence had come back, well mostly. (Rest In Peace to her second favorite throw pillow) Jennifer had enacted a new rule. “No one is allowed to run around in their knickers.” “It’s just like a big pad that wraps around. It’s really not that different.” She tried to say. At first it was only when they left the house, but after a few mishaps on the rug and the couch, she had made her keep it on. “But the heat!” Hortensia had protested. So she had made the rule in solidarity. If Hortensia had to roast, so did the rest of them. At least it was cooling down now. Jennifer had gotten rather lax around the girls and had found herself downstairs…not prepared to receive company. The markings on her skin no longer even garnered a second glance from either of them. The summer had been an unbearably hot one and one horrifically miserable night had left them all downstairs in their knickers as Hortensia lamented to Matilda about how terrible getting boobs were. Matilda hadn’t responded, she had been nestled tight against Jennifer’s chest despite her hot, sticky skin and was utterly sacked out. Jennifer hadn’t minded. She had laid on her back and stroked the girl's hair from her sweat streaked face. “I’m going to be sad when she’s too old for this.” Jennifer had said softly. Hortensia glanced over for a moment and resumed her drawing. “How old is too old?” “I don’t know. Nine or ten?” Jennifer could have sworn she saw something on Hortensia’s face then, but maybe she only imagined it in the dark room with only the telly to see by. Maybe it had only been wishful thinking. She had been glued to Jennifer for the first three days she had come back, but then as things settled down she had gone back to her usual ways of keeping her arm length away. She was hesitant to touch her even now, sure Hortensia would smack her hands away or scream obscenities before locking herself away in her bedroom. “Would you tell me what’s gotten you so upset?” Jennifer asked softly. Hortensia shook her head, still hiding her face in the crook of her arm. “Is it about tomorrow?” Shake. “Tens, please talk to me. I only want to help.” “You can’t. You just make everything worse!” Jennifer bit back a frustrated sigh. “How am I making things worse?” No response. “Tens?” “You just do.” How helpful. “Would you answer my earlier question?” “Wh-what question?” She mumbled followed by a wet sounding sniffle. “When you have an accident are…” Jennifer trailed off as Hortensia’s sobs intensified. Ah. “It’s okay, Tens. Really, it is.” she whispered. “It’s not okay!” Hortensia wailed. “Tens, is this why you’re starving yourself? To try and avoid having accidents?” Hortensia shook her head, but she wasn’t sure she believed her. “You need to eat. Starving yourself is only going to make you more miserable. If you have an accident, you have an accident. It’s not the end of the world. You don’t have to be afraid.” “I’m not afraid!” Hortensia growled. “Then tell me what you feel when it happens.” “Tired.” Hortensia mumbled. “Tired?” Too tired to get up and use the bathroom? No. “What else?” “Dizzy, and sick, like I need to lie down.” Interesting. She did often find her sprawled out. “So you feel it coming on? These…episodes?” Nod. “And then what happens?” “I don’t wanna talk about it.” Came the mumbled response. No. She was shutting back down. It was so difficult to get her to open up. “It’s important.” “I don’t wanna talk about it.” “Tens, please don’t shut me out. We need to get to the bottom of this. If it’s stress, that’s fine, but I need to know there isn’t something else going on.” “Leave me alone!” Jennifer sighed. “Tens, you can tell me what’s going on. No matter what it is. I’m here for you.” She placed a hand lightly on her back. “I love yo-” Jennifer gasped in pain and held her stomach. That little… Hortensia had taken her elbow and slammed it into her stomach. Jennifer grabbed her wrist and held it up before grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet her eyes. “Look at me! I don’t care how upset you are. We do not hit people!” Jennifer said. “Don’t touch me! Let me go!” The girl began to wriggle out her grasp. “Then don’t hit me!” Jennifer shouted back before releasing her. “Don’t tell me what to do! You’re not my mom!” She was glaring daggers now, not in defiance, but rage. “One more word out of your mouth and you’re going straight to bed!” Jennifer turned away and leaned over the sink like she was going to be sick. She took a deep breath before turning back around. Hortensia was pacing back and forth in agitation like a bull ready to lunge. So it was going to be that kind of night. Jennifer opened the cupboard and grabbed a bottle of pills from the top shelf. She slowly shook one out in her palm all the while staring pointedly into her face. Night night Hortensia. “No. No. I’m sorry. I’m fine.” Hortensia held up her hands defensively. Twenty minutes and she’d be out like a light. Her medication to pull her out of a rage attack worked a little too well. Getting her to take them was another story. It was like trying to give a cat a pill. Sometimes the sight of the bottle was enough to calm her down if she wasn’t too far gone. Other times she needed Matilda’s help if she felt like Hortensia was a danger to herself or others. Psychic powers really came in handy pinning her down in an emergency. An elbow to the gut would have earned her a tablet, but Jennifer wanted to salvage the conversation. “Are you?” Jennifer asked, a note of skepticism hung in the air. “Yes!” Hortensia said, eyes rolling and voice thick with enough attitude and resentment that Jennifer debated giving it to her anyway. “Are you going to sit back down and talk to me?” “I don’t want to talk to you!” “You can drop the attitude, take a seat and answer my questions, or you can take your medicine and go to bed. Those are your options.” Hortensia made a series of whining noises and stomping gestures befitting a child half her age. Jennifer had had enough. She pointed to the back door. “Go. Outside. Twenty minutes. Go hit your bag or something, I don’t care. Just go.” Hortensia remainted where she was, glaring defiantly up at her. “GO!” Jennifer yelled. Finally the girl began to move, not towards the back door, but further into the house. “Where do you think you’re going? I said go to the backyard!” “The lou!” “No, you’re not going to the lou!” “I have to pee!” Jennifer knew her better than that. It was a stalling tactic. She often said she needed to pee before disappearing for twenty minutes. For someone clever enough to tape a Gameboy to the inside of a toilet tank ahead of time, you’d think she’d be smart enough to turn the volume down. “You can hold it for twenty minutes.” “No, I can’t! I really need to pee!” But she exhibited no outward signs of distress that Jennifer could see. No wigging, squirming, or dancing. She was calling her bluff. “Good thing you’re wearing a nappy then. Out!” “No, I’m not!” Hortensia lied despite the clear outline under her shorts. “OUT!” “FUCK YOU!” Hortensia screamed. “I HATE YOU!” She stormed out of the house, slamming the back door on the way out. Jennifer collapsed into the nearest chair at the table, passing the prescription bottle from one hand to the other. Place one tablet under tongue as needed for outbursts. Her vision began to blur. She felt like she was failing. Hortensia was slipping away more and more everyday and there was nothing she could do. Was this normal preteen behavior? She stared at the bottle and debated taking one herself. The thought of a dreamless, drug induced slumber sounded like heaven. An intrusive urge to dump the entire bottle in her mouth buzzed around in her head like a fly that kept returning no matter how many times she batted it away. Eventually, she stood up and put the bottle away, save one tablet which she slipped into her pocket just in case. For Hortensia, she told herself before setting the kettle on the stove. She had just finished pouring herself a mug of tea when the doorbell rang. She stared at the clock before deciding to ignore whoever it was. Now wasn’t a good time for company. But the doorbell rang again. And again. And again. Feeling irritated, she went to the backdoor to make sure Hortensia wasn’t playing a trick on her, but she was outback with her punching bag where she was supposed to be, not hitting it but holding it against herself in a tight embrace. Jennifer frowned. She debated going out there, but they both needed time apart to simmer down, so she wiped at her eyes and decided to see who it was that couldn’t take a hint. Jennifer opened the door to find her neighbor who lived across the street from her. He was a short, balding man with gray hair and glasses who fancied himself as a type of neighborhood enforcer. She would often see him going through the neighbors rubbish bin, making sure they recycled and calling the cops for any excessive noise. “Mr. Fern, “ she said, plastering a fake smile on her face. He made no move to return the gesture. She let her smile fall and waited for him to talk. When no words came, she began with “Is there something wrong?” “Unfortunately, yes, there’s been a number of break ins along the street in the last few weeks, myself included. I'm going door-to-door to warn the others. I know it’s just you and the girls, so I wanted to let you know the neighborhood’s not safe anymore. Please make sure you lock your doors and windows.” “Oh.” Jennifer said with a frown. Her aunt had installed a security system in the midst of one of her manic episodes, but Jennifer hardly remembered to set it before bed. “Thank you for telling me.” He nodded his head in acknowledgement. “Did the police ever find out who was responsible for vandalizing your car?” “Oh, that. Just some neighborhood kids.” Jennifer lied before letting out a nervous chuckle. “I work at the school. Easy to make enemies when you’re the one handing out punishments.” “I thought you teach little kids?” he asked skeptically. “Oh, I used to, now I’m the headmistress. But breaking in? That's terrible!” He must be having a field day. Maybe now he’d stop harassing her about her rubbish bins not being a full meter from the curb. “How did they get in? I hope they didn’t break your window.” “No, um” he looked away, seemingly embarrassed. “I left my front door unlocked.” “This isn’t a ‘lock your doors’ kind of area, I understand.” At least it used to be. She couldn’t remember the last time she had heard about an actual robbery being committed on her street. “What did they steal?” He frowned at her question. “Nothing valuable.” “What kind of burglar doesn’t steal anything valuable? He wasn’t a very good burglar then.” “It was more unsettling.” He explained. Jennifer nodded. The thought of someone coming into her home uninvited and going through her things sent a chill up her spine. “They only took…” Please don’t say knickers. Please don’t say knickers. “Food.” She gave him a confused look. “Yeah, I think my wife scared him off before he could root through the place. Came downstairs and found some guy rummaging around in the fridge. She didn’t get a good look at him, ran upstairs and locked herself in the bedroom as soon as she saw him. He was long gone before the cops arrived. Only thing missing was a bag of deli meat and a jar of pickles.” “How odd. Do you think it was a homeless man?” “No, I think he was just brazen enough to make himself a snack before turning the place. It reeks of confidence. I think he’s done this before and didn’t expect to get caught. Mrs. Prett said she’s missing 200 pounds out of her desk drawer.” “How horrid! That's a lot of money!” She exclaimed. Her couple of years living destitute had taught her to appreciate living modestly. The most expensive thing in her home she had bought was the Nintendo 64 she had gotten the girl’s to celebrate her one year anniversary with Matilda. It was a much adored purchase by both children and the heartache of coming home from school to find someone had broken in and stolen it would break them. Not to mention it was her and Brian’s main tool to slip away unnoticed. Other than that, a burglar would be rather disappointed to break into her house. She had either sold, or given away most of her aunt's possessions, except the odd pieces she knew her aunt had an attachment to, like her Precious Moments porcelain figurines she kept in a glass cabinet. Those she smashed with a hammer in the backyard while the girls cheered her on and laughed. Hortensia had the right idea, smashing things to bits was cathartic. “JENNY! I NEED TO PEE!!” she heard bellowed from the back followed by the backdoor slamming shut. Jennifer winced. “Haven’t seen her in church for a while.” He said with a sniff. “Might behave herself better if you went to her church instead of your own. I bet she misses her church family.” What she missed was her real family. “We don’t go to church.” she said automatically. He looked scandalized at the very thought. “Well that’s why she’s misbehaving! All that yelling coming out of your house. She’s crying out for Jesus!” Jennifer’s eyelid twitched. “Take her back, see if she doesn’t straighten out. She never acted this way when her momma was around. She would have smacked that attitude right out of her.” It had been a rough few weeks. The whole street must know she had some kind of behavioral issue with her hollering. Police had even been called several times anonymously to do a welfare check, thank you Mr. “Your-Bins-Aren't-Two-Meters-From-The-Curb.” “You know Eve?” She asked. She didn’t even know he had known Hortensia before. “How well?” “We’ve gone to the same church for the last ten years.” Jennifer’s lips pursed. He went to that church. The one Hortensia had gone to. The one where Hortensia had been… And he wanted her to go back? “No, it’s not safe there, haven’t you seen the news?” Her posture had gone from defensive to offensive as he spoke. “Oh, that’s a lot of bollocks. I know him, he’s a good man! He’s the pastor's son! That family has been a part of that church for generations. Someone’s trying to run his name through the mud. It’ll all blow over once the police realize it’s just some kid telling stories. It’s all a lot of bollocks.” Jennifer’s eyes began to blur. “There’s a kid in my house going through hell because of him.” She said through clenched teeth. “Her?” He rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment in thought. “That explains things.” He didn’t say it with pity, but with understanding. “She’d be the type.” Jennifer’s jaw dropped. “Look, I’m not accusing her of anything.” He held up his hands. Jennifer gritted her teeth in anger, fighting the urge to slam the door in his face. She was an adult. She could control herself better than this. “This is a good man’s life we’re talking about. He’s an absolute staple of our church community, and Hortensia, well, she clearly has her problems. We want you to be sure, you know, before you do anything hasty. Wouldn’t want you to make a big deal of this and it blows up in your face.” “So this is why you’re here? To intimidate me?” Jennifer asked. “No, not intimidate you, just to, you know, warn you. I wouldn’t want you to go through all this for nothing.” “Go through all what?” “Well you know, victims of this kind of crime usually get their reputation trashed just as much as the perpetrator. Her history with these kinds of stories and behavior are going to come out.” “Are you threatening us?” she demanded.“She’s only eleven-years-old for bloody sake! She’s just a kid!” “I’m just telling it like it is. Everyone hates lawyers for a reason. Eve’s asked us all to keep Hortensia in our prayers for her behavioral issues for years. Any damn lawyer worth his salt is going to find that out.” So much for “Eve would have smacked the attitude right out of her.” “Do yourself a favor and drop the whole thing. Even if it did happen, other people are pointing fingers as well. Let them bring the case forward and save yourself the trouble.” “You need to go.” Jennifer said. She was shaking now. “You come here with your fake story about a break in, pretending to care about us, and threaten me.” “No, no, that part was real, which reminds me, where was she two days ago? Where does she go when she goes out on her bike?” “You said it was a man.” Jennifer had her hand on the door, ready to slam it shut. “They were in a hoodie, and like I said, she didn’t get a good look at him.” “It wasn’t her; she hates pickles!” She said before swinging the door shut. She stood in her living room for a solid minute shaking with silent anger. How dare he. How dare he. To accuse her of lying. As if she could fake those injuries… To accuse her of breaking into people’s houses to rob them? An eleven-year-old-girl? She went to the backyard to see if she had come back yet, but surprise, surprise, she hadn’t. She peeked in the downstairs bathroom, but she was nowhere to be found. Someone’s earning themselves an early bedtime, she thought numbly as she climbed the stairs. She peeked in her room, but she wasn’t there either. She paused in the doorway and sighed. So messy. “Have you seen Tens?” Jennifer asked, coming into Matilda’s room. “Is she hiding in here?” “Restroom.” Matilda said. She was lying on her stomach with her feet curled behind her, an open book resting in front of her “Ran in while you were coming up the stairs.” Of course. “You’ve earned yourself a restart of your twenty minutes.” she called, knocking on the bathroom door. “G-go a-w-aw-way!” Jennifer grimaced and softened her voice. “Would you come out so we can talk?” But there was no response, only sobbing. “Can I come in?” “Go away!” They went back and forth for a few minutes before Jennifer gave up. “Okay Tens, I’ll go, you can come out when you’re ready.” She went into Hortensia’s bedroom and sat on the bed and waited. She wondered if she was still crying over their fight, but when a cold chill came through the room and she looked up to find the window open, she had a feeling she wasn’t so fortunate. She stood up and slammed it shut. He was standing across the street in his front yard, watching her. He waved. She shut the blinds. She needed something to distract herself so she bent and started tidying up. Why was there so much trash in here? All these Crisp wrappers and banana peels. At least she’s not eating only junk … She bent and picked up a half empty bag of sliced bread. Odd taste in snacks, but okay. And then she decided to move the bed away from the wall. Food wrappers of all kinds fell to the floor. “Hortensia…” Jennifer sighed and bent down to start scooping it up. She was obviously hoarding food, but…why? And not just junk, but bread, yogurt, and granola bars. There was an empty protein shake for diabetics, a half eaten tomato, and cottage cheese. And then she saw it. The pickle jar. Jennifer sat on the bed, put her face in her hands and cried. -
I'm so glad you're enjoying the story! This pronoun problem is due to the fact that this story was not written directly in English (Please don't ask me which language it was originally written. I prefer not to share this kind of information). The translation process often assigns the male pronoun to all the characters and sometimes mistakes to assign the right pronoun. When I have a spare minute, I'll look for all the errors and I'll correct them all. Thank you for bringing this to my attention and thank you for the comment! - Here is the new chapter! Enjoy! -FreezMilo - 13 The second and final week of Riley's punishment began with the dreaded doctor's visit. She rarely doctor's visits, the last few times were not stay visits but mandatory vaccinations that destroyed her every time. In fact, she would fall asleep in the car forcing her parents to lay her down on the couch when they returned. She would sleep until dinnertime. The most nervous was her father Greg; Dr. Heinz's waiting room brought back bad memories of which he hoped he had removed from his memory. The fact that he was not the patient in question calmed him, but not so much since the patient was his little daughter. Riley was slightly uncomfortable, it was the second time she had gone out in public in a diaper -which her mother forced her to wear - and, for the first time, a person other than her parents would see and look inside of it. Distracting herself was impossible, and squeezing her mother's hand gave her confidence. "Riley Bishop!" called a nurse with an angelic voice. The family got up and followed her. None of the three adults opened their mouths for that short walk down the endless hallway. (Riley thought she had been catapulted into a horror movie.) "Mom?" whispered Riley. "Yes?" "Is the doctor going to give me a shot?" Helen stifled a laugh and lowered her voice so as not to attract the attention of Greg and the nurse. "I didn't think you were still afraid of shots." Riley looked down at her feet in annoyance. What a stupid thought! A little kid would ask her such a question! Now I'm a big kid! "I didn't mean that... è... the other thing," Riley said uncertainly. Helen looked around, then at her daughter for a moment. She sensed something was wrong. She asked the nurse, "Where is the bathroom?" The young woman stopped short. "It is to your left, Mrs. Bishop." Riley and Helen turned their gazes in that direction. Quite a coincidence, thought the woman. "Riley and I will be right back," Helen spoke excitedly, and they rushed in. The nurse looked at Greg. "Dr. Heinz will think he has no more patients for today, I'll go and let him know you are here." "Thank you and I apologize for my wife's behavior," apologized Greg mortified. The nurse shrugged. "Children are like that, better to empty out before seeing the doctor. You think many have wet their pants seeing the doctor!" Greg chuckled unconvinced; he could have done without that information. * In the bathroom, the air grew even more heavy. The rose-flavored scent of clean made her sneeze as soon as they crossed the threshold. Riley sensed that her mother wanted to take a look at her there, so she stood in front of her and lowered her pants. She prepared a justification in case she found it wet - she thought it wasn't - , the usual "Sorry Mommy, I didn't notice!" excuse followed by reprimands and a clean diaper. Helen checked it for her and, surprised, reported that it was dry and still in perfect condition. "Just in case, try to make it to the toilet," he ordered her immediately afterwards unfastening it. The 11-year-old obeyed and waited; she could have told her mother she didn't have to go, however, the terror of doing it in front of Dr. Heinz convinced her to keep her lips tight. "I don't want the doctor to make fun of me," said the intimidated little girl. "Is that what you're afraid of?" her mother asked softly, little surprised. "He won't make fun of you." "They told me in school about doctors playing tricks on their patients," admitted the little girl, increasingly frightened of that idea. "I assure you those stories are all bogus," Helen replied decisively, remaining sweet. "But I don't think that's why we're here, right?" Riley pulled back unsure. How did she figure that out? She shook her head. "Then what is it?" Riley took a deep breath. "I don't want him to see me without the.... you understand." "The doctor has to see if you're hurt," her mother explained, "even if you tell him there's nothing wrong with you, he has to be sure you're telling the truth." "It's just that... only you and Dad have seen me without clothes..." "The doctor is a good person, and then Dad and I will be there in the room," her mother reassured her. "It's normal for you to be afraid, you haven't had so many visits to the doctor." Silence. "All done?" her mother asked. Riley looked down. The water was yellow, she had started peeing while she was talking to her mother and felt proud that she had noticed. She told her mother, "I made it while we were talking and I felt that I was making it." Her mother smiled at her. "I'm glad to hear you say that. Now let's get you dressed and then we'll join the doctor." * Dr. Heinz looked younger than he was, sixty-nine years old and barely fifty. Gray hair at attention and dark brown eyes behind square glasses. He looked more like a grandfather than a pediatrician. Entering his office, Riley hid behind Helen. This amused the doctor, so much so that he asked Greg curiously, "Did you also hide behind your mother when you went to the doctor the first time?" Her father replied nervously. "The only shield you had from the terror of needles was Mom!" After Helen and Riley took off their coats, Dr. Heinz got up from his desk and went to meet the latest arrivals. He shook Helen's hand, then tried to make eye contact with the little girl, but to no avail. Patience!, he said to himself and made his way back to his desk. "Hi," the little girl spoke unsurely. The man gave a semi-spirit and squared her. After that, he held out his hand to her, "You've grown since last time, you're a little lady." Riley nodded and shook his hand. "Thank you." Dr. Heinz returned to his feet. He asked the parents, "So to what do I owe your visit?" It was Helen who answered. "In the last few weeks, Riley has begun to wetting herself without realizing it. Both when she's quiet and when she's nervous." "To keep my clothes from getting wet, my parents diapered me," the little girl added, blushing. Dr. Heinz looked at her surprised. "Are you wearing one now?" Riley nodded, "I don't want to get my clothes wet, so Mom put one on me." The doctor cast a glance at Greg, then at Helen. He also told her to help her take off her clothes and put her on the table across the room. The little girl was left in a white short-sleeved T-shirt and half-covered diaper. The table was a tiny bit hard, but the diaper made everything softer. The doctor squared her again. He lifted her T-shirt and took a quick look at her chest, seeing nothing unusual. He then checked her pulse and breathing, all in the normal range. Without saying anything to her, he laid her down and proceeded to tear the ribbons from her diaper. The cool air brushed her relentlessly. Riley felt vulnerable, with no defense in her most delicate areas. She began to breathe nervously. The doctor did his checks, then closed it back up for her. Thirty seconds, she counted. The worst, perhaps, was over. The man helped her sit up. "You look perfect," announced the doctor, and the atmosphere lightened. "How are you feeling now?" "A little bit nervous." "Do you feel the need to go to the bathroom?" "No. I'm fine." "Are you sure?" "I don't have to go," confirmed Riley firmly. "When was the first time you wet your pants? Also tell me how you felt." "Two weeks ago, at the supermarket. I felt down and then it happened," she lied feigning displeasure, then told him under her breath as if to tell him a secret, "Mom had gotten very upset." "I can imagine that," he told her playfully and looked at Helen for a moment. She smiled back at him. "The last time this happened to you?" "A few days ago at grandma's house. I was overjoyed," the 11-year-old answered honestly. "Even that time, Mama got very upset, but.... Hey! I was wearing a diaper! The clothes were dry! I wonder why you have to get so angry!" Dr. Heinz laughed. "I agree with Riley. Better a dirty diaper than dirty clothes." Her parents burst into a hearty laugh that lasted about ten seconds. "Your daughter is as healthy as a horse," Dr. Heinz exclaimed, "for now, the only advice I give you is to monitor her accidents and re-teach her how to use the bathroom. You guys don't spend that much time together, is that correct?" "We work five days a week all day, we only spend time together on weekends," Greg replied. The pediatrician assumed an understanding expression. He refuted, "I'm not prescribing medication, her problem can be solved with some training. Just like when she was younger." She remembered it well. When she was seven, during a game of soccer, Riley fell and broke her leg. Months in a cast and some physical therapy, Riley walked again as if nothing had happened. "When should I start?" suddenly asked Riley, still sitting on the table. "Right now, if you want," the doctor told her. "Do you have to run now?" Riley nodded, "Maybe... I don't know." The doctor allowed Helen to dress her and take her to the bathroom. Before she sat on the toilet, some pee got into her semi-open diaper. "Sorry, Mom!" she told her, and her mother let her pass, just this once. They went back to her office to get the last few things, said goodbye to Dr. Heinz, and headed home. On the way home, Riley struggled to keep her eyes open and fell asleep. He had not done any vaccines or shots, he had not prescribed her to take any medicine, only to pay more attention to her body. And without energy, this, she could not do it. * Riley awoke on the couch, his first thought was of the diaper was soaked and cold between his legs. She should have woken up and done it, not slept and done it. She felt discouraged; she had started her second potty training on the wrong foot. It was going to be hard, very hard. She got up, she knew they were in the office working. Sometimes, she did not understand why they would take the day off and, after doing what they had to do, they would lock themselves in the office to work. They could have spent time with her, laughing and distracting themselves from their boring jobs. Knocking and entering, she found only her father tapping on the keyboard. He seemed on the verge of cursing, an instinct that passed him by seeing Riley. "Good morning!" his father greeted her. "Sleep well?" "Very, thank you," she replied contentedly. "Am I disturbing you?" Her father glanced at his computer screen, put his right hand on the mouse, and began to move and click it. Confident that he had concluded what he needed to do, he replied relaxedly, "You never bother me, Riley. Tell me everything." "I need to be changed," he revealed to her and made an embarrassed face. It was one of the few times he had said that to his father. Greg smiled and got up from his chair, stretched his arms and took his daughter in his arms. "Your butt owes me a favor!" The change took very little time and was very pleasant. Dad changed her as if it were Mama doing it: same gentleness, same attention to her private parts, and guaranteed fun. Her father opened a drawer to get a clean diaper, but Riley stopped him at that instant and made her request, which he could not refuse. He gave her one more wipe with a washcloth, put her down, and helped her into her absorbent panties. "Do you remember what you have to do?" her father asked her. "If I have to go and do it, I have to tell you , go to the bathroom and do it," she replied putting on her pants. "Can I make the table for you?" The man raised his left eyebrow. "Table?" "Yes, the one to keep track of my route and accidents," she replied excitedly. "The doctor said so. If I want to wear diapers and listen to my body at the same time, I have to do it." Her father nodded. "If that's what you want, then go for it. Before you know it, you'll be back to being a big girl still wearing diapers." Her father walked out of his room, after telling his daughter he would see her again at dinnertime. His work was calling him back. He told her, "Mom is around the house, if you need something ask her." Riley greeted him, ran to her desk and set to work. This day is worthy of a meeting of the Diaper Trio.
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