Critiques and Writer's Discussion

Interesting chapter ... i did not even consider annoying press during the trial, but it makes perfect sense ... I really do not like Lauren and do not want to see her mother, seeing Lexi's reaction ...  I would like to see more of Lexi, but do not see it as best idea, given how her mother is ...  It is really interesting to see the inner monologue of Greg in regards the comparison with Samantha situation ...  I look forward to seeing how the trial will conclude and to the previously mentioned side story, when it will be finally spoiler free ...

COMING CLEAN Breakfast served, Ian slipped out of the dining room and returned to the nursery. What he was looking for was resting inside a battered shoulder bag stored in an old suitcase at the back of the closet. Retrieving the shoulder bag, he rejoined the others and helped himself to two slices of the French toast that he had prepared earlier. He would have liked more, but his breast milk cocktails were taking the edge off his appetite. Rita caught his attention and cocked her head. Was Ian following up on the pledge he had made late in the night, when they were getting ready to sleep? Did the bag house the guns that she had not even known were in the house? Ian nodded slightly, confirming her suspicions. He had meant everything he told her the night before. It was time for the household to start preparing for war. Eating quietly, waiting for the others to move on to coffee, Ian mentally rehearsed his pitch. The trick was to get them to take him seriously without causing a panic. He knew that Carlie and Priscilla were weapons trained and would keep their wits about them, but the others were a complete unknown. He was counting heavily on Sarah to be the cool, calm and collected voice of reason who would restore order if things started to spiral out of control. Finally setting his plate aside, Ian picked up the bag, opened it, and removed two oily rags. He unwrapped them and laid them on the table. His six companions found themselves staring at a pair of Colt M1911A1 semi-automatics. “Moisture is a gun's worst enemy,” he began. “Whether we're talking the rainy season in Panama, where I completed Advanced Infantry Training, or the constant humidity in Southeast Asia, it takes a lot of work to keep your firearm and ammo dry and combat ready. Carlie, what are you carrying?” “Standard department issue … a Colt 38.” “Get much range time?” “Once a year is the requirement. I'm good for four to six.” “Priscilla?” “.357. Dad and I visit the range quarterly; Mom goes every month. She's a regular Dirty Harry.” “Good to know,” Ian smiled. "Anybody else?” Francine quickly raised her hand. “Mister Belmondo insisted that Harry and I learn how to defend ourselves. In the wintertime, it's pitch black dark outside when we close up, and we sometimes have money in the till.” “Do you have a gun on the premises?” Carlie's tone was sharp. “We do,” Francie admitted. "And we've both taken classes in gun safety as well as spending time on the range.” “And if someone comes in out of the dark to rob you? What then?” “We give them the money. But we will draw the line at personal assault. Backs literally to the wall, one of us will pull the trigger.” “I'm better with a rifle than a pistol,” Sarah cut in, “but I know how to use both.” “When's the last time you handled a weapon?” Ian figured that Sarah had spent some time in the woods, both hunting and fishing. “It's been a couple of years ...” “Then I want you and Francie to visit the range I use out in Bloomington. The owner is a Korean War vet, and he will take your measure. My job is to train all of you mentally. The men who will be coming for us are enemy combatants, here either to kidnap or kill you. So don't waste your time on the 'stop or I'll shoot' bullshit. You draw a bead on the target, you pull the trigger, and you keep shooting until the target is dead. It's really that simple. There will be no police involvement unless I order them in, which is most unlikely. I have a team standing by to dispose of the dead, and if we can identify any of them, a second team will go to work systematically erasing them from every data base we can access. Again, if anything happens to me, call Tran. He will put the machinery in motion.” “Ian, what you're saying runs counter to the whole of my training.” Carlie was shaking her head. She could see herself putting someone down, but not pulling the trigger a second time to finish them off. “Carlie, your training will get you killed. We are talking about close quarters combat on a battlefield. We do not have the luxury of taking prisoners; we kill them all.” “I have no problem with this,” Sarah spat out. “I'm good,” Francine added. “Priscilla, what about you?” Ian didn't know where Pris was going to land. “Carlie's thinking like a cop … and you're right, such thinking could get us killed. I say we treat this like a war zone; it's kill or be killed.” “Good girl,” Ian smiled. “Ian, should I even bother asking whether you have a concealed carry permit?” Carlie still couldn't wrap her head around what Ian was preaching. “No, but I haven't carried since I left the service, at least not in this country. Overseas? Yeah, many times. The guns travel in a diplomatic pouch, and I collect them from the embassy or a consulate. Sorry to disillusion you, but secret agents aren't in the habit of waltzing through immigration control armed with a Beretta in a shoulder holster.” “Oh, shucks,” Vickie giggled. “And here I thought 007 went everywhere with his Walther PPK. What a bummer!” “Sorry,” Ian laughed. It was so like Vickie not to be fazed by any of the gloom and doom that he was setting out. “Carlie, if it will make you happy I'll fill out the paperwork, but it's not really necessary. You can take my word for it: when the shooting starts, the cops aren't going to show up. The seventh floor in DC has spread the word.” Carlie nodded, thinking it through. “You want a clean field of fire, which means no local interference.” “Right. If you run the course at Quantico, you'll learn how all the pieces fit together. Bottom line: we police ourselves.” “Then we really do need to get out of the city. We can't have our neighbors caught in the crossfire.” “Good point. Now,” Ian clapped, “from now on I want my guns to be within easy reach. I'll go on sleeping in the crib, but we have to disable the locking mechanism so that I can get out without waiting for someone to let me out.” “We can change out the side railings,” Rita commented. “There's a version that locks from the top, and it can easily be opened from the inside.” “Let's get it done soonest. In the meantime, I'll figure out where to stow the hardware. And Francie, I'm going to talk to Spats. I don't like the setup at Lullaby, so I want him to have one of his more trigger happy crew there during business hours. If an ordinary thief shows up, someone like Walley should be able to deal with him.” “Walley's not much for brains,” Francie tittered, “but he can bench press a school bus. Uncle Spats doesn't employ light weights; everybody's got brains or brawn.” “Just how real is the threat, Ian?” Sarah wanted what Ian called a sitrep. “Hard to say. You heard Spats. The Outfit is putting eyes on every harbor that services the Channel Islands. They're talking to truckers, barkeeps and hookers. If somebody gives off the wrong vibes, these guys will catch it. They'll report to whoever is running this operation, and he'll weigh the risks and consider his options. What we don't know is the degree to which paranoia will influence his thinking. The children have already been moved at least once; we know that because Linh said that she has been on an airplane. They may have still another base of operations to which they can evacuate, or this island may be the end of the line. There are too many variables for us to weigh, so we assume the worst and prepare accordingly.” “Could they come after you on campus?” Priscilla was weighing a specific set of risks. “I'm vulnerable in my office and classrooms, but we're down to the last three days of classes before finals and term break, which takes us into the latter half of January. So they would have to move fast … probably too fast. Better to bring in a South African hit team, which will scout us and then attack under cover of darkness.” “We need reinforcements,” Sarah decided. “No.” Ian was emphatic. “Start from the presumption that we are under surveillance. If we start to act suspiciously, that might set them off. Which reminds me … be on the lookout for people who seem out of place, both here and at work. If you see someone sitting in a parked car anywhere in this neighborhood, try and take down their license plate. Once you've tagged them, surveillance becomes a two way street.” “Will it always be like this, Ian? Will we always have to live in fear?” Ian looked at Rita, wondering if she was thinking about bailing. “Anyone who becomes pregnant is going to have a bodyguard … probably female, probably Secret Service. The kids will always have protection, but it will be low key, not intrusive. Once these guys are dead, the organized threats will cease. We'll be down to life's run of the mill risks.” “You're going to kill them, I hope.” “Count on it Sarah. After that, probably the biggest threat we'll face is a demand from Washington that I take over this rogue department and rebuild it to plug some hole or other in our intelligence network. How would you like to live on a horse farm in Maryland, or maybe a plantation in northern Virginia? Work at Walter Reed?” “I could go for a beach house on the Delaware shore,” Rita remarked. “It's not Lake Minnetonka, but it will do.” “Still thinking about your dream home,” Vickie asked with a broad smile. “Got to be on the water somewhere,” Rita countered. “But enough for now. Vickie and I have got to get to the office. Lessing's Folly awaits.” . . . . “Reiko, is there anything that I should know?” Professor Lessing had waited until the end of their Saturday morning roundtable to address his young intern's dramatic change in appearance. “The diaper, you mean?” Reiko was smiling from ear to ear. “I got the idea from Marilyn, my younger sister. She wore one to a frat party last Saturday night, and the boys couldn't keep their hands off. They ended up at a disco joint downtown … do you know Moby's?” Professor Lessing shook his head. Disco was most definitely not his cup of tea. “Anyway, guys kept coming by the table to whisk Marilyn away, one of them a colleague of yours in the History Department. Marilyn and John really hit it off, but because of the age difference between them, she wanted us to meet. The three of us had dinner earlier in the week, and the next day he called to ask me out. Since he liked Marilyn's well padded rear end, I thought that I'd give it a try. The two of us clicked.” “I hope that it's you he's interested in, not your … umm … choice of underwear.” “He couldn't care less what I'm wearing, and naturally there are times when he prefers me not to be wearing anything at all.” Thinking about what they had been getting up to in John's bed, Reiko couldn't help but smirk. “This sounds promising,” John smiled. “I look forward to meeting your suitor.” “Then join us for coffee. John's waiting for me in the cafeteria. This afternoon we're going to get cracking on our Christmas shopping, but I'm sure he'd like to meet you as well. He'll be meeting Ian … er, Professor Grady … tonight.” “Interesting. You know what, Reiko? I think I'll join you. This is my day to shop too, and putting a little caffeinated fuel in the old tank beforehand sounds like a good idea. You ready?” “Let me get my coat, and then we're off!” . . . . “Up for a little shopping,” Ian asked as he clasped Sarah's hands. At the breakfast table, she had openly backed his decision to take no prisoners if their household was attacked. He suspected that her clear thinking and blunt comments had won Rita over, and her experience hunting in the north woods led him to believe that in a fight she would be an asset rather than a liability. As a couple, they were well matched. “What have you got in mind?” “I'm doing Thai tonight, so we need to pay a visit to the Asian grocery store that your mother and I explored last Saturday. The stores around here won't stock much of what I need.” “I'd like to get out for a while, but let's wait a bit. Your next bowel movement should occur pretty soon. We can leave after I change you.” “Huh. Sarah, what are you talking about?” “Tippi and I have been timing you. Thanks to the breast milk, you're having five or six movements a day, and they are now quite regular … roughly thirty to forty minutes after you finish your feeding. But solid foods throw you off schedule. You finished your French toast about seventy-five minutes ago. It's easy to digest, much quicker than the veal we had last night, which has yet to show up in your diaper. I'm worried about a blowout, so let's see if the French toast will move things along.” “So now I'm just a well oiled machine.” Ian could only laugh at the absurdity of it all. In what universe did a guy's wife keep track of his bowel movements? “A well oiled machine who's poop is as mushy as a newborn's one time, and as messy as a toddler's the next. Face it, Ian. The more infantile your diet, the easier it is for Tippi and I to take care of you.” “Sarah, although it will never be my beverage of choice, I've come to terms with the breast milk. More than that, I can't wait for you to start lactating; I want to nurse at your breast … at all of your breasts! Talk about foreplay!” “We are all equally eager. I've been using the pump multiple times a day, and my breasts are already more sensitive. Want to take them for a spin while we wait for you to mess your diaper?” “Talk about making an offer that a guy can't refuse! My crib awaits!” . . . . John stood up as Reiko approached with an older, well dressed gentleman at her side. He swept her into his arms and hugged her tight, his hand gently patting her well diapered rear. “John, say hi to my superior, Professor John Lessing of your Psych Department. Boss, this is my boyfriend, John Mortenson. John's on the History faculty.” “Coffee all around,” Reiko asked as the two men shook hands. “And then it's off to do battle with a shopping cart,” Professor Lessing joked. “As the grandchildren get older, the stack of presents in Santa's sleigh, otherwise known as the trunk of my car, gets higher and higher.” “And doubtless more costly as well.” John had two nieces of his own, and a list of much desired treasures in his back pocket. He expected his checkbook to get a workout as he and Reiko made their way around the mall. “Reiko tells me that she is taking you and her sister Marilyn to this evening's edition of Rita's weekly frolic. I wouldn't plan on getting too much sleep, if I were you.” “I've put a sleeping bag in the car, but we have to get one for Marilyn. Reiko says that there's a hunting and fishing outfit near the mall, so we'll make that our first stop.” “Good planning. Reiko mentioned that you are attracted to Marilyn as well, but hesitate to make a move because she is so much younger than you. It will be interesting to see how this all works out.” “Interesting for me as well,” John laughed. “I'm betrothed to both of them but can only marry one. This seems like a formidable obstacle, but I'm hoping that our colleague Professor Grady can give me some useful pointers. Perhaps the three of us will form a commune of our own.” “If both of them insist on wearing diapers, you would certainly be kept busy. Tonight you should talk about it with Sarah. She definitely has her hands full.” “Thanks! I'll do just that!” . . . . “Your breasts seem bigger,” Ian murmured. Having stripped down to his diaper and vinyl pants, he was cradled in Sarah's arm. He was waiting for her to get settled before latching on. “They are, and much more sensitive. I hope to start producing colostrum for you in another week or so.” “Colos … what?” “Colostrum. Think of it as my body warming up to produce true breast milk. In texture it's closer to skim milk than whole, more sweet tasting, but loaded with nutrients and antibodies. You're going to love it!” “Are we talking about the yellow gunk that Nguyen was putting out just before she gave birth? It kind of gradually started turning into milk about ten days after the delivery.” “That's the stuff.” “I sucked it down, Sarah, because Nguyen insisted that it was good for the baby and she wanted to come charging out of the gate. But I can't say that I enjoyed it; I was just doing my bit for the team.” “Your taste buds will adjust, Ian, the same way they have to breast milk. In the end, you may even find the taste addictive.” Sarah eased Ian's head into position, and as he began to nurse she slipped her hand inside his baby pants. As she rubbed up and down on a diaper that was wet enough to warrant a change, she felt his cock hardening. At the same time, her own body was responding to their breast play. “Such a good baby,” she whispered as she continued to stroke him. She wanted him to cum in his diaper before she redirected his tongue to her clit. “Our first freebie,” she added as his nursing became more frenzied. “Fill your diaper for Mommy; fill it.” Ian moaned as he came, but his lips barely paused. He couldn't get enough of Mommy's gorgeous tit. And Sarah discovered that she didn't want him to stop. There was a current flowing between her breast and her clit, and she didn't want it interrupted. Reaching down, she began to play with herself, and as his mouth became more insistent her fingers kept pace. She screamed when she came, but then she took hold of Ian's head with both hands and held him firmly in place. She was warmed up now, and she wanted to know if her breast would gift her with another orgasm. Could she cum without touching herself? She could, and she screamed a second time just as Ian's bowels relaxed and sticky poop began to fill his diaper. It wasn't quite a blowout but it did come close, and it smelled horrible. Sarah would have her work cut out for her. . . . . “Should we have told him that we're buying you an entire layette today-- diapers, pink baby pants, pink onesies … everything that my sweet baby girl desires?” “No,” Reiko smiled, “the details are best kept to ourselves. I'm still trying to decide whether I want a pacifier. Vickie really likes hers.” “Oh, just go ahead and buy it. In fact, buy two. You can keep one in the drawer where your IUD used to sit, and the other belongs in your purse. In a profession like yours, you never know when it might come in handy.” “You've talked me into it.” Reiko's laugh was wholehearted. “And we need a diaper pail, rash cream, powder … the whole kit and kaboodle!” “Think we can get everything at the maternity shop in the mall that the girls mentioned to Marilyn?” “Absolutely. Vickie and Ian were both outfitted there.” “Can't wait to get you into a onesie. I think we will make that your all around wear.” “Diapers or no diapers?” “Exactly. Body suits have a long history, one dating back to the early days of the Industrial Revolution. You are going to look so cute.” “I would prefer sexy, but cute is better than nothing.” “Reiko, stop selling yourself short. In case you haven't noticed, I think your sex appeal is off the charts. Now, what about some lunch?” “Let's grab something at the mall. Shopping can wait.” “What about your diaper? Will I need to change you?” “Nope. Dry as a bone.” “Then let's get to it!” After buying a sleeping bag for Marilyn, it took Reiko only a few minutes to drive them to the mall. She opted for Chinese, and John for Tex-Mex. Since his was the more complicated Christmas shopping list, they opted to get his out of the way before heading off to Mary Dearing's Infants and Maternity Wear store. When they walked through the door, Reiko breathed a sigh of relief. There were no other customers in sight. “Can I help you young people,” Mary politely asked. She could tell at a glance that Reiko was heavily diapered. “Yes,” John said as he opted to take control of the conversation. “As you may have noticed, my girlfriend is wearing a hospital issue diaper. It's a good choice for overnight, but far more protection than she needs during the day. We're looking for something less revealing.” “Vickie Robinson, one of my friends and co-workers, is very pleased with what she purchased here. I'm hoping that you can put together a similar kit for me.” Reiko and John put their arms around one another, making it clear that this was what they both wanted. “Ah, yes. Doctor Robinson was a pleasure to work with. I'd say that you can make do with size medium, but I'd like to measure you just to make sure. You might be better off with a small. And do you want vinyl pants and onesies, or just the diapers.” “Everything,” John answered, “including pacifiers. Reiko's work is very stressful.” “Oh, I agree,” Mary smiled. “But you will need a larger size to cover these hospital diapers at night, and a smaller for what you wear during the day. So, let's get you into the storeroom. You can undress, then I'll take your measurements, and you will soon be on your way.” Opening the door, Mary beckoned for her customers to enter, then she went around the store picking up what she would need. She opted for pink baby pants and onesies without even being asked. “Right,” she said when she returned to the storeroom with tape measure in hand. “Waist and thigh, and we'll be good to go.” It took Mary only a few moments to confirm that Reiko would fit into a small but would be more comfortable in a medium. She spread a diaper out on the makeshift changing table, and beckoned for Reiko to hop up. “Even though these diapers are thinner, I recommend that you go on using the four pin method. It does help prevent leaks. I took the liberty of choosing pink baby pants and onesies, but I'll fetch some plain ones if that's your preference.” “Oh, no,” Reiko exclaimed. “I definitely want pink. The hospital issue is sooo dull.” “Colored materials definitely look less institutional,” Mary agreed. “I'd recommend two dozen diapers, half a dozen baby pants in each size, and four onesies in each size.” “Very good,” John agreed. “And do you sell the accessories that we need … diaper pails and the like?” “Sir, if you need it, I have it,” Mary laughed. “The only question is whether you have enough room in your car. Your order will take up quite a bit of space.” “We can make two trips if we have to,” Reiko pointed out. “But we're going to need two diaper pails, and they can go on the back seat. Let's fill them up if we can.” “Let's get to it,” Mary urged. Her cash register was having a very good day

When the manufacturer gives a size range it's usually best to shoot for the middle of the range.

No problem! And yes, it come accross well

Thank you, glad you're enjoying it. Yes, I try to blend some 'real world' aspects and feelings. Like how they had an outing to the museum and Carole/Mommy explained some thoughts about 'people don't always like looking into the mirror, seeing the real world around them'. And the internal dialogue helps us understand that Tom is 1)learning new things about himself while also 2)considers some possible motivations of Carole. He's not completely naive about life in general, but she's awakened some feelings and emotions.