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Thank you. I am glad the story didn’t leave you feeling indifferent. It ripped me to write it. In fact, it ripped me so much, that I reinvented the ending in another ongoing story:  Trust me, having God in your life makes all the difference. It does to Sally in the story, and to those who follow her steps, in whichever way you open out to Him. Sally lives on, and I wish it to be a sign of hope, maybe that God always gives a second chance. And a third one. And a fourth, etc. Don’t let fake religion keep you away from the real God.  Thanks for your comment. 

So the best deal I liked. Ageconfort.com 15% off and free shipping in Canada. Bought 60 Crinklz diapers for $148.

There was someone selling what I assume are the Sams club ones on eBay, I want them but since there such a large pack shipping (to the UK) works out really expensive. I'll just continue waiting for Amazon to have alternative prints available at some point.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN Kaleigh lay back on the cold plastic of the changing table, her whole body still buzzing, every breath shaky and wet. Her eyes felt glassy and unfocused, like she wasn’t even there—like she was just floating in some pastel-colored nightmare that didn’t have an end. She could still feel it—the hot, sticky mess clinging to her skin, the squish of it pressing up between her legs each time she shifted. It was so real, so immediate, that her brain kept stuttering, trying to find some way to pretend it wasn’t happening. But there was no pretending now. No more illusions. No more lies. She’d done it. She’d messed herself. Like a baby. Vicky’s hands were gentle as she peeled back the tapes of the diaper, but Kaleigh could feel every mortifying second of it. The slow, sticky pull as the tapes came undone. The warm, heavy squish of the mess as it spread against her skin. The cool air kissing her thighs as the diaper was folded away, the shame of it all sinking deeper with every soft, methodical wipe. Kaleigh let out a soft, choked whimper around the pacifier, her cheeks burning so hot she thought she might pass out. Her eyes stung with tears she didn’t want to shed, but she couldn’t stop them—not when she could still feel it. The squelch of her mess being wiped away. The humiliating cold drag of the wet wipes against her tender skin. The way Vicky hummed a little tune under her breath, like this was just another Tuesday. Vicky’s voice was soft, too soft. “Such a messy little girl,” she murmured, her tone warm and patient. “It’s alright, baby. Let Mommy make it all better.” Kaleigh wanted to scream. She wanted to claw her way out of her own skin, to disappear into the cracked ceiling above her and never come back down. But all she could do was lay there, her body limp and trembling, her breath coming in ragged little gasps as Vicky’s hands moved with slow, unhurried care. God, it was so wet. So much worse than she thought it would be. She could feel it—how it stuck to her, how it spread with every tiny shift of her hips. The wipes were cold, almost too cold, and she flinched every time they dragged over her, every time Vicky’s fingers pressed just a little too firmly into the swollen skin. Her brain wouldn’t shut up, wouldn’t let her forget. I messed myself. I messed myself like a fucking baby.. Oh god, I messed myself. The words looped in her head, louder and louder, until they were all she could hear. She tried to focus on Elliot, on the soft weight of the plush elephant pressed tight to her chest, but even that felt like a joke. A comfort that didn’t belong to her anymore. She was a grown woman. She was a fucking adult. And she’d just shit herself in a playpen like a helpless baby. Vicky’s fingers were warm and gentle as she lifted Kaleigh’s hips, sliding a fresh, thick diaper underneath her. The soft crinkle of it was deafening in the quiet room, a bright, plasticky sound that made Kaleigh’s cheeks burn even hotter. She hated how it felt—the bulk of it forcing her legs apart, the soft, pillowy thickness hugging her in a way that felt… permanent. Like it was her skin now. Vicky dusted her with powder, the sweet scent filling her nose and making her stomach flip. “You’re such a good girl,” she murmured, her voice soft and soothing. “So sweet and small and perfect for me.” Kaleigh’s breath stuttered, a soft, broken sound that slipped out around the pacifier. She didn’t feel perfect. She felt ruined. She felt like she’d crossed some line she couldn’t ever come back from, like she was stuck in this pastel hell forever. Vicky taped the fresh diaper snug around her hips, the soft, insistent press of it a final, quiet humiliation. Kaleigh let her head fall back against the table, her breath coming in short, shaky little pants. She felt empty. Hollowed out. Like she’d been scraped clean and left with nothing but the hot, humiliating memory of what she’d just done. Vicky’s hands cupped her face, her thumbs brushing away the tears that clung to her lashes. “There now,” she whispered. “All clean. All safe. My pretty little princess.” Kaleigh let out a tiny, broken sob, her eyes fluttering shut. She didn’t want to be anyone’s princess. She didn’t want to be anything at all. But when Vicky scooped her up, cradled her like she weighed nothing at all, Kaleigh let herself go limp in her arms. She pressed her face against Vicky’s shoulder, the soft scent of powder and lotion wrapping around her like a blanket. She felt small. So small. And so fucking tired. Vicky’s voice was soft in her ear, a gentle hum that almost made her want to close her eyes and drift away. “There we go, sweet girl,” she murmured. “Let it all go. Just rest.” And Kaleigh did. o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o Kaleigh didn’t remember falling asleep. One moment she was sniffling, too spent and numb to do more than lay there on the changing table while Vicky cleaned her up—every soft, clinical swipe of the wipe making her skin crawl. And then… the next thing she knew, she was somewhere else entirely. She woke in Vicky’s lap, her head resting against the soft slope of her chest, Vicky’s gentle hum of a lullaby vibrating through her bones like a spell. She could feel the new diaper under her, thicker than before, the warm weight of it hugging her hips like a quiet, permanent promise. The yellow dress she’d once thought was humiliating now felt… weirdly comforting. Like it was part of her now. Like she was supposed to be this girl, soft and small and held close. Kaleigh blinked up at Vicky, her eyelids heavy, her breath coming in slow, shallow pulls around the pacifier still stuck between her lips. Vicky’s hand was stroking her hair, soft and patient, her fingers tracing over the bright yellow ribbons she’d tied in Kaleigh’s pigtails. It was sweet and soft and so, so fucked up—and Kaleigh hated how her body leaned into it anyway, how the gentle rhythm of Vicky’s touch made her chest loosen in a way that was both shameful and… kind of sweet. “You had a big morning, baby girl,” Vicky murmured, her voice a soft croon that made Kaleigh’s breath hitch. “But you did so well. Mommy’s so proud of you.” Kaleigh’s stomach twisted at the word, but she was too tired to fight it. Too tired to do anything but let herself be small in Vicky’s arms. The Sheriff had told her there was no coming back from this, and Kaleigh believed him. She believed him in her bones. Vicky shifted, pressing a kiss to the top of her head before slipping one arm under her knees and standing in one smooth motion. Kaleigh whimpered softly around the pacifier, her arms tightening around Elliot, the stuffed elephant’s soft fur the only real thing in the world right now. The room blurred around her, her head swimming as Vicky carried her across the nursery, each step slow and gentle. “I have something special for you,” she said, her voice warm and bright. “Something to help you feel pretty again.” She reached for the small table beside the crib and pulled out a delicate, pink hairbrush—its handle shaped like a little heart. Kaleigh’s stomach twisted, a soft, breathless whimper slipping past the pacifier. She didn’t know what she’d been expecting, but… a hairbrush? Vicky sat on the edge of the crib, her legs tucked under her like she was settling in for story time. “Come here, baby,” she said softly. “Let’s make you all pretty again.” Kaleigh didn’t resist as Vicky pulled her close, her breath catching in her chest as she felt her pigtails fall away and the gentle tug of the brush through her hair. Each stroke was slow and careful, the soft bristles dragging over her scalp in a quiet, rhythmic lullaby. She felt her shoulders loosen, her head tipping forward a little as Vicky hummed softly under her breath. “You’re such a good girl,” Vicky murmured. “So sweet and soft. Just like you’re supposed to be.” Kaleigh let out a small, shaky sigh, her body sinking into the gentle comfort of it. It felt stupid—like she was a kid again, being fussed over and pampered. But it also felt… good. Soft and warm and safe in a way that made her chest ache. She didn’t know how long they sat there. She didn’t care. The warmth of Vicky’s hands, the slow drag of the brush, the syrupy sweetness of the lullaby—it all seeped into her bones until Kaleigh wasn’t sure where her own thoughts ended and Vicky’s began. Kaleigh blinked sleepily as Vicky gathered the long strands in her soft, practiced hands. The quiet tug of it felt almost soothing, each gentle pull of Vicky’s fingers steady and calm. She watched through heavy-lidded eyes as Vicky wrapped a soft yellow ribbon around the base, tying it into a neat, high ponytail that brushed against the back of her neck. When Vicky finally stopped, she smoothed her hands over Kaleigh’s hair, her fingers gentle and warm. “There we go,” she whispered. “So pretty, baby girl. Mommy’s pretty girl.” Kaleigh let out a soft, breathless sigh. She didn’t have the strength to fight it anymore. She just… let it be. Let herself feel pretty, even if only for a moment. Dinner was quiet after that. She sat in the highchair, the padded straps snug around her wrists and ankles as she let Vicky feed her slow, spoonful after slow, spoonful of sweet potatoes and carrots. She didn’t even protest this time—she was too soft, too tired. Too wrapped up in the quiet sweetness of it all. And when bath time came, Kaleigh let herself relax—let the warm water and the gentle scent of baby soap pull her under. She closed her eyes and let Vicky’s soft hands cradle her, her breath slow and steady as she sank into the quiet comfort of it. Later, diapered and dressed for bed, she let Vicky carry her to the crib, her body limp and soft in her arms. Vicky climbed in beside her this time, holding her close as she pressed the bottle to her lips, the warm milk filling her mouth in slow, sweet dribbles until she could no longer keep her eyes open. “Good night, baby girl,” Vicky whispered, her voice soft and warm as she brushed a kiss over Kaleigh’s forehead. “Tomorrow’s a special day—you’re going to get to see your friends.” Friends. The word settled heavy in Kaleigh’s mind, like a half-remembered dream and her eyes fought to flutter open but she was too tired to chase the thought, too drowsy to let herself panic. She could feel Elliot pressed to her chest, soft and warm and real in a world that felt increasingly surreal. She let the question fade with the rest of her thoughts, drifting down into that sweet, syrupy darkness that Vicky’s lullaby had woven for her until the world slipped away. ------------------------------ The Sweet Hollow series is a psychological thriller mystery. Follow along as Kaleigh and the other girls from the bus discover the mysteries of this sleepy little town that seems determined to turn them into helpless little girls.  Check out the ENTIRE 55k word story RIGHT NOW on Ream or SubscribeStar or grab the entire 5 book series (and counting) on Amazon.  You can read the first few chapters of each book for free on Ream or SubscribeStar.  Read more here: SubStar | Ream | Amazon

In a damp pamp, a Rearz Alpaca to be exact.   So comfy, why do we give in to potty training?