Story and Art Forum

I loved how sexualized it was but I hated how there was kidnapping and forced infintilism.

[I'm posting this chapter ahead of schedule, as I'll be traveling this weekend. Enjoy.] Sally earns another star on the calendar, quietly proving she’s potty training one small victory at a time. But Thursday brings a much bigger test. When she’s unexpectedly placed at the head of her father’s boardroom table, Sally gets a glimpse of the future everyone seems to expect from her. Then the real moment comes. A visit to the Porsche showroom reveals that her long-promised reward may finally be within reach: a rare Cayman GTS 4.0 built exactly to her taste. Yet sitting behind the wheel of a real Porsche makes one thing clear. Earning the prize is one thing. Being ready for it is something else entirely.   Chapter 165 – Some Serious Shopping Meanwhile, Sally collected stars. Little victories. The calendar inside her closet slowly filling. One night she woke up groggily in the dark. Stumbled half-asleep to the bathroom. Managed to tug down her diaper. It still felt strange to pee on the toilet with a diaper pooled around her ankles. Returned to bed. It felt even stranger to tug it back up, dry, and slide into bed in a dry diaper. In the morning her mother smiled quietly. “A star.” It was the first time Sally had woken herself up during the night. Progress. Life continued. Work. Study. Routine. Sometimes she drove. Sometimes she let her father handle the wheel while she watched the city move past the window. And then Thursday arrived. The Porsche day. By Thursday afternoon Sally’s brain had stopped cooperating entirely. Her laptop screen glowed with a half-finished literature assignment. But on another tab— Porsche. Another tab. Porsche. Another. Porsche. Jana noticed immediately. “Sally.” Sally froze. “Yes?” “You are researching vehicles again.” Sally winced. “Maybe.” Jana sighed softly. Ten minutes later Sally had opened another page. Jana closed the laptop. “That’s twice.” Sally looked up innocently. “I’m gathering automotive knowledge.” Jana stood. “You are incapable of concentration today.” “Correct.” Jana nodded once. “Go wait in your father’s office.” Sally blinked. “Am I being expelled?” “Temporarily reassigned,” Jana said calmly. Sally grabbed her backpack and walked down the hallway with exaggerated meekness. She knocked lightly and stepped into Adrian’s expansive office. Theresa stood near the large conference table mid-presentation, several people seated around it. She stopped when she saw Sally. One eyebrow slowly lifted. Sally froze in the doorway. “Hi.” Sally stepped into the office quietly, as if she had just wandered into a courtroom by mistake. Theresa stood at the far end of the conference table mid-presentation, a screen behind her showing a set of charts Sally didn’t even try to understand. Six people sat around the polished table. All adults. All dressed like people who knew exactly what they were doing. Every pair of eyes turned toward the door. Adrian was standing behind his chair at the head of the table. He didn’t hesitate. “Sit here,” he said calmly, holding the back of his large executive leather chair. Sally blinked. “Sit,” he repeated, already pulling the chair slightly away from the table. “Everybody,” Adrian added casually, “this is Sally.” He gave Theresa a small nod. “Please continue.” The group reacted with polite curiosity. A few nodded. One man adjusted his glasses. Another woman gave Sally a brief professional smile. Sally counted quickly. Six. Maybe seven including Theresa. She felt their attention follow her as she walked around the table. The chair was enormous. She slid into it carefully, trying not to make noise. Her father’s chair. She mouthed sorry toward Adrian. He only winked. Then leaned slightly toward her and whispered under his breath. “It’s almost over.” Sally nodded gratefully. Theresa cleared her throat. “As I was saying,” Theresa resumed smoothly, tapping the remote to bring the presentation back onto the screen, “the second phase of the rollout focuses on operational partnerships rather than direct capital deployment.” She paused briefly, noticing Sally now seated quietly at the head of the table. For the briefest moment their eyes met. Theresa gave the faintest nod of reassurance before continuing. “Which means,” she said, turning back to the room, “Weiss Enterprises is not simply investing money and walking away. We are identifying organizations and ventures already performing effectively and scaling them through strategic capital and operational support.” A chart appeared behind her. One of the men seated near the center leaned forward slightly, steepling his fingers. “And the selection criteria?” Theresa nodded, prepared. “Three filters.” She raised one finger. “Financial transparency.” A second finger followed. “Operational integration with our existing logistics and supply infrastructure.” A third. “And measurable growth outcomes.” Sally sat very still. Her father’s chair felt impossibly large beneath her. Across the polished table, seasoned executives—people who ran divisions, markets, entire operational regions—were listening attentively. But every now and then their eyes drifted toward her. Not curiosity. Recognition. The heiress. The future. Behind her, Adrian had stepped away from the table and leaned casually against the wall, arms folded, letting Theresa run the room without interruption. “The Weiss family has always maintained one core principle,” Theresa continued. “This company does not move capital for appearances.” A few people around the table nodded knowingly. “It moves capital for results.” She let the words settle. “This is about stewardship of resources and long-term growth.” The word lingered in the room. Stewardship. Sally felt it land quietly in her chest. She folded her hands neatly on the table, trying to look like someone who had every right to be sitting in that chair. The meeting moved forward quickly now. Questions. Clarifications. Operational timelines. One executive asked about integration risk. Another about international compliance. Theresa answered each one with calm precision. Finally she clicked the remote and the screen went dark. “That concludes the overview.” Chairs shifted. Papers gathered. The tension of the formal presentation began to dissolve. Adrian stepped forward again. “Excellent,” he said calmly. He rested one hand lightly on the back of the chair Sally occupied. His chair. “Thank you, Theresa.” Then he looked around the table. “And thank you all.” His tone was calm but final. Several people began to stand. But before anyone moved too quickly, Adrian added almost casually, “And for those of you who haven’t yet met her…” He gestured lightly toward Sally. “This is my daughter, Sally.” The room’s attention shifted fully toward her now. A different kind of silence settled. Respectful. Measured. Sally straightened instinctively. One of the senior men at the table gave her a polite nod. “Miss Weiss.” Another followed. “Pleasure to meet you.” There was something else in their eyes too. Expectation. Adrian glanced down at his watch. “That will be all for today.” The room relaxed immediately. Chairs pushed back. Laptops closed. Executives offered brief farewells before filing out of the office. Theresa lingered near the end of the table, gathering her notes. When the last of the executives stepped into the hallway, she leaned slightly toward Sally. “You handled that well,” she murmured quietly. Sally exhaled slowly. “I didn’t do anything.” Theresa smirked. “You sat in the chair.” She nodded subtly toward Adrian. “And in this company, that already means something.” -- Adrian watched the room empty with the calm patience of someone who had spent a lifetime in conference rooms. The last of the executives shook his hand, offered a polite nod to Sally, and disappeared into the hallway. Theresa gathered her tablet and notes, gave Sally a quick conspiratorial smile, and followed the others out, quietly closing the door behind her. The office fell silent. Sally was still sitting in the large leather chair at the head of the table, her father’s chair, hands folded exactly where she had placed them ten minutes earlier. Adrian walked around the table slowly. “Well,” he said. Sally looked up at him. “Well what?” “You didn’t panic.” “That was an option?” she asked. Adrian chuckled and leaned on the edge of the table. “How did it feel?” Sally glanced down at the chair. “Big,” she admitted. “Like I accidentally sat on the throne of a small kingdom.” “Close enough,” Adrian said lightly. She slid out of the chair and grabbed her backpack. “Am I dismissed?” Adrian looked at his watch with exaggerated seriousness. “I believe,” he said, “we have a very important appointment.” Sally froze. “Oh.” Her face brightened instantly. “Oh!” Adrian smiled. “Yes. That appointment.” Five minutes later they were in the elevator, descending toward the underground garage. Sally bounced slightly on the balls of her feet, trying very hard not to look like someone about to explode with excitement. Adrian noticed. “You’re nervous.” “I’m not nervous.” “You’re vibrating.” “Maybe a little.” The elevator doors opened to the quiet coolness of the garage. Rows of polished cars waited under the fluorescent lights like obedient machines. The dark-blue BMW M5 sat exactly where Adrian had left it that morning, immaculate. Sally walked around it automatically, admiring the reflection of the overhead lights on the paint. “Still my favorite sedan,” she murmured. Adrian unlocked it. “You say that about every car.” “Not true,” she said, sliding into the passenger seat. “I said it about this one first.” The engine came to life with a deep restrained growl. They eased out of the garage and into the late afternoon Miami traffic. The drive to Coral Gables was short, but Sally spent most of it staring out the window, watching palm trees and Mediterranean-style houses pass by. “So,” Adrian said casually, “tell me everything you know about the car.” Sally straightened. “Mid-engine.” “Good start.” “Flat-six.” “Correct.” “Last of the naturally aspirated Caymans.” Adrian nodded approvingly. “And?” Sally hesitated. “…fast?” Adrian laughed. “Yes, that too.” She leaned back in the seat. “I mean, I’ve read about them,” she admitted. “But reading and… having one are different things.” “That’s usually how it works.” A few minutes later the BMW turned onto a quieter street in Coral Gables. The dealership appeared ahead like a glass pavilion—clean lines, polished stone, large windows revealing the silhouettes of cars inside. Porsche. Sally felt her stomach tighten. “Wow,” she whispered. Adrian pulled into the entrance and handed the car to a valet who seemed to recognize him instantly. “Good afternoon, Mr. Weiss.” “Good afternoon.” They stepped inside. The showroom smelled faintly of leather and polished metal. The lighting was soft and deliberate, reflecting across the curves of several cars arranged across the floor like sculptures. A silver 911 sat near the entrance. Next to it, a deep blue Taycan. Across the showroom, a bright red 718 Boxster caught the light like a jewel. Sally stopped walking. Completely stopped. Adrian noticed immediately. “Problem?” he asked. Sally didn’t answer. Her eyes moved slowly from one car to the next. The shape of the fenders. The stance. The details she had seen in photographs now suddenly real in front of her. “Dad…” “Yes?” “They’re… smaller than I imagined.” He smiled. “That’s because they’re built around the driver.” A man in a tailored suit approached them with an easy professional smile. “Mr. Weiss,” he said warmly. “Welcome back.” Adrian shook his hand. “Daniel, good to see you again.” Daniel Moreno turned his attention to Sally. “And you must be Miss Weiss.” Sally blinked and nodded politely. “Hi.” “It’s a pleasure,” Daniel said. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” He gestured toward a glass desk area. “If you’d like, we can sit and go over the configuration and delivery details.” Adrian nodded. “Of course.” But Sally didn’t move. She had taken two slow steps toward a dark grey 911 sitting under a spotlight. She leaned slightly closer, studying the lines of the rear fender. Her fingers hovered a few inches above the paint but stopped short of touching it. “Is this…” Daniel smiled. “911 Carrera T.” Sally nodded slowly. “Wow.” She circled it halfway, still hesitant, like someone in an art museum who had just discovered that the paintings were real. Then she looked across the showroom at another car. Low. Compact. Sharp. A Cayman. Her Cayman. Sally swallowed. “That one…?” she asked quietly. Daniel followed her gaze. A small smile appeared. “Yes,” he said. “I believe one like that might be yours.” -- Daniel Moreno watched Sally study the cars for a moment longer before gently steering the moment back toward business. “Miss Weiss,” he said with a polite gesture toward a glass desk set slightly apart from the showroom floor, “shall we sit? Your allocation deserves a proper introduction.” Sally tore her eyes away from the Cayman across the showroom. “Right. Yes. Sorry.” Adrian chuckled quietly behind her. “That will happen a lot in this building.” They walked to Daniel’s desk. The glass walls allowed them to keep seeing the cars while they sat down, which Sally suspected was very much intentional. Daniel opened a laptop and turned a large screen toward her. “First things first,” he said calmly. “Your vehicle is already allocated. The factory has confirmed the slot and production planning. It will be a 718 Cayman GTS 4.0.” Sally nodded slowly, trying to look composed. Daniel continued. “This is important, because production of the 718 series is ending. Porsche is transitioning the platform to its next generation, and naturally aspirated flat-six Caymans like this one are… nearing the end.” He paused just long enough for the weight of that to settle. “Your car will be among the last Cayman GTS 4.0 units built.” Sally looked up. “Seriously?” Daniel smiled. “Yes.” Adrian folded his arms quietly, letting Sally absorb the moment. Daniel tapped the screen and the configuration page appeared. “Now,” he said, leaning forward slightly, “because the production slot is fixed, the model itself cannot change. It must remain a GTS 4.0. That is already locked.” He gave Sally a reassuring look. “But the personality of the car… that is still yours to create.” Sally leaned in. “Okay.” Daniel scrolled to the exterior section. “Color.” A palette appeared on the screen. Blacks. Blues. Greys. Special paints. Sally studied them for a long moment. “Crayon,” she said finally. Daniel nodded with quiet approval. “Excellent choice.” Adrian glanced sideways. “Crayon?” “It’s classic Porsche,” Sally said quickly. “It’s like a soft grey but not boring.” Daniel smiled. “Exactly.” He selected it. “Crayon exterior.” The image on the screen changed immediately. Sally leaned closer. “Oh wow.” Daniel continued. “Wheels.” Several designs appeared, many of them finished in black. Sally frowned instantly. “No black wheels.” Daniel paused. “No?” “They belong on race cars,” she said firmly. “Not on road cars.” Adrian hid a smile. Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “I agree.” He changed the selection. “Twenty-inch wheels. Finished in silver.” The image updated. Sally relaxed immediately. “Much better.” Daniel moved to the next section. “Interior trim we can finalize later if you wish, but the GTS already comes very well equipped. Alcantara, sport seats, the GTS interior package…” Sally nodded, letting him continue. “Now,” Daniel said, “sound system.” Three options appeared. Standard. BOSE. Burmester. Sally blinked. “What’s the difference?” Daniel answered patiently. “BOSE is excellent. Burmester is… extraordinary.” Adrian leaned back slightly. “You do like music.” Sally hesitated for about two seconds. “Burmester.” Daniel selected it without comment. “Very good.” He continued scrolling. “Sport exhaust is already included on the GTS, which I suspect will please you.” Sally nodded eagerly. “Yes.” Daniel paused again. “One more small but surprisingly important detail.” He turned the screen slightly. “Rear wiper.” Sally looked up immediately. “Of course.” Daniel smiled. “I thought so.” Adrian looked amused. “You didn’t hesitate.” Sally shook her head. “It’s a hatchback. You need the rear wiper.” Daniel nodded approvingly. “A practical Porsche enthusiast.” He added the option. “Very rare.” Sally sat back slightly, looking at the configuration taking shape on the screen. Crayon. Silver wheels. Burmester sound. Rear wiper. Daniel folded his hands calmly, looking at the configuration taking shape on the screen. “Crayon exterior. Silver wheels. Burmester sound system. Rear wiper.” He gave a small approving nod. “A very thoughtful configuration so far.” Then he paused. There was one line left on the screen. Daniel looked at Sally with a slightly more deliberate expression. “Now,” he said, almost ceremonially, “the crucial question.” He turned the screen so she could see the two options clearly. Transmission. Manual. PDK. Daniel rested his hands lightly on the desk. “Which would you prefer?” Sally frowned. Not a thoughtful frown. More like the expression someone might make if asked whether their car should have two doors or four. She leaned forward slightly. “Manual,” she said immediately. Daniel blinked once. Adrian chuckled softly beside her. “Of course,” Sally added, as if clarifying something obvious. Daniel allowed himself a smile. “I suspected that might be the answer.” He clicked the option. Manual transmission selected. “Six-speed,” he said. “The traditional Porsche gearbox.” Sally nodded with quiet satisfaction. “Good.” Daniel glanced at Adrian. “You’d be surprised how many people hesitate.” Sally tilted her head. “Why?” Daniel shrugged slightly. “Convenience, mostly. PDK is very fast. Technically faster than the manual.” Sally waved that away lightly. “It’s not a race car.” Adrian looked amused again. “And you’re learning clutch control in the Fiesta.” Sally nodded. “Exactly.” Daniel leaned back slightly in his chair. “Well,” he said, looking at the finished configuration, “Miss Weiss…” He turned the screen fully toward her. “Your Cayman GTS 4.0.” -- Daniel looked at the finished configuration on the screen and rested his hands together, the quiet satisfaction of a man who enjoyed watching a car take shape exactly the way it should. “Crayon exterior,” he recited calmly. “Twenty-inch Carrera wheels in silver. Burmester sound system. Rear wiper. Six-speed manual.” He turned the screen slightly so Sally could see the full rendering. “There are not many GTS cars ordered this way anymore,” he added. Sally leaned closer. On the screen sat her car. Low. Compact. Almost purposeful in its simplicity. It looked fast even standing still. Daniel continued, shifting from the poetic to the practical tone of someone who had delivered this explanation many times. “Your build slot has already been confirmed by Porsche,” he said. “Production planning is firm. That means your Cayman is already scheduled on the assembly calendar in Zuffenhausen.” Sally blinked. “So it’s… real?” Daniel smiled slightly. “Oh, very real.” He tapped another line on the screen. “Production week is currently scheduled about four weeks from now. Once it enters the line, the car is essentially built within a few days, then goes through final inspection.” Adrian nodded quietly, listening. “From there,” Daniel continued, “it travels to the port of Emden in Germany, where it boards a vessel to the United States. Shipping to Florida usually takes about two weeks. After port processing and transport to our dealership…” He looked at Sally. “You are probably looking at six to eight weeks before delivery.” Sally sat back slowly. Six to eight weeks. She looked across the showroom floor again at the Cayman sitting under the lights. Her Cayman. Daniel closed the configuration page and folded his hands again. “There is one more thing Porsche clients often enjoy,” he added. “Once the car leaves the factory, we can usually track the ship carrying it across the Atlantic. Sally smiled faintly. “That sounds… fun.” Adrian leaned back slightly in his chair. “You’ll check it every day.” “Maybe,” Sally said. Daniel stood. “If you’d like, we can walk over and take a closer look at the showroom car. It’s not the exact configuration, but it will give you a better sense of what you’re getting.” Sally stood too. “Yeah… I’d like that.” They crossed the showroom floor slowly. The Cayman sat quietly under the soft lighting, its proportions somehow both small and perfect. Daniel stopped beside it. “This one is a GTS as well,” he said. “Very close mechanically to yours.” Sally walked around it slowly. The rear haunches. The central exhaust. The low roofline. It felt like looking at something she had only known through photographs and articles, now suddenly real and three-dimensional. She leaned slightly closer to the rear window.  “You can see the engine from here,” she murmured. Daniel nodded. “Flat-six.” Sally crouched slightly to look at the badge. “GTS.” She stood again. Her hand hovered near the door handle, not quite touching. “You can open it,” Daniel said. She did. The door swung open with that solid Porsche weight. Inside, the cockpit looked tight and focused. Sally slid into the driver’s seat. Driver first. Everything angled inward. Sally stared at it. For a moment, nobody spoke. Then something shifted. Very subtly. The excitement that had been carrying her all afternoon suddenly tangled itself with something else. A small knot in her stomach. Adrian noticed first. He knew that look. “Sally?” he said gently. She looked up. “I’m fine.” But she wasn’t entirely. She took a slow breath. “I just… realized something.” Daniel waited quietly. “What’s that?” Adrian asked. Sally glanced at the car again. “This is real,” she said. “Yes.” She shifted her weight slightly. “I mean really real.” Daniel tilted his head slightly. “In what sense?” Sally gave a small awkward laugh. “I’m fifteen.” The showroom suddenly felt very quiet. “I mean… I know how to drive,” she continued quickly. “I drive the Fiesta, and the Range Rover, and Morgan says I’m good and all that.” She looked at the car again. “But this is a Porsche.” Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “That is correct.” Sally pressed her lips together. “I feel like I’m about to own something I’m not… fully qualified for.” Adrian stepped beside her and rested a hand lightly on her shoulder. “That feeling,” he said quietly, “never completely goes away.” Sally looked up at him. “Really?” “Really.” Daniel smiled gently. “The good news,” he added, “is that this car will teach you.” Sally looked back at the cockpit. “How?” Daniel shrugged lightly. “A Porsche rewards attention.” He gestured toward the steering wheel. “If you drive it well, it will feel like an extension of you. If you drive it poorly, it will politely let you know.” Sally let out a small breath. “That sounds intimidating.” “It’s also what makes it special,” Daniel said. She stood there for another moment. Then finally she nodded once. “Okay.” Adrian smiled slightly. “That’s my girl.” Sally ran her hand lightly along the roofline of the car. Carefully. Almost respectfully. “Six to eight weeks,” she murmured. Daniel nodded. “And when it arrives,” he said, “it will be one of the very last naturally aspirated Cayman GTS cars Porsche ever builds.” Sally looked at it again. The anxiety hadn’t disappeared. But something else had settled beside it now. A quiet determination. “Good,” she said softly. “I’ll be ready.” Daniel nodded thoughtfully. “Well,” he said, almost casually, “when the time comes, we may have another opportunity.” Adrian raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Daniel turned slightly toward him. “Porsche has been allocating a very small number of early production slots for the next model year.” He looked back at Sally. “For the 911.” Sally’s eyes widened. Daniel lifted a finger slightly, tempering expectations. “Not today. And certainly not before you enjoy your Cayman. That car deserves your full attention.” Sally nodded immediately. “Oh, it will.” Daniel continued. “But once you have it… once you’ve lived with it a little… we could discuss reserving a slot.” He paused just long enough for the words to land. “A 911 allocation.” Sally stared at him. “Seriously?” Daniel smiled. “Your father has been a good client for many years. And Porsche appreciates enthusiasts.” Adrian chuckled softly. “You’re creating a monster, Daniel.” Daniel shrugged politely. “It’s a Porsche tradition.” Sally looked back at the Cayman. Then across the showroom floor at a dark green 911 sitting under the lights. Her brain tried to process both ideas at once. “My first Porsche isn’t even built yet,” she said. Daniel nodded. “And you are already thinking about the second.” Sally looked slightly embarrassed. “Maybe.” Adrian placed a hand lightly on her shoulder again. “One car at a time.” Sally nodded, still staring at the 911. “Yeah.” Then she looked back at the Cayman again. Her Cayman. Crayon. Manual. Rear wiper and all. A slow smile appeared. “Okay,” she said quietly. “Let’s start with this one.” -- Daniel had just finished saving Sally’s configuration when Adrian straightened slightly beside her. “Well,” Adrian said calmly, glancing once more at the Cayman, “that takes care of Sally.” Daniel closed the configuration screen and nodded. “Indeed. A very fine GTS.” Sally was still staring at the car, mentally trying to picture it in Crayon instead of the darker showroom color. Adrian slipped his hands casually into his pockets and looked around the showroom again. Then he turned back to Daniel. “My turn.” Daniel raised an eyebrow with a polite smile. “Oh?” Adrian nodded toward the far side of the showroom where several 911s were sitting under the soft lighting. “I haven’t looked at what you have in stock.” Sally turned immediately. “Wait… you’re buying one too?” Adrian shrugged mildly. “I might.” Daniel chuckled softly. “Well, Mr. Weiss, you picked a good afternoon to ask.” He gestured toward the far side of the showroom. “We actually received several new 911s this week.” Sally’s curiosity instantly returned in full force. “What kind?” Daniel began walking across the showroom, Adrian and Sally following. “Let’s see,” he said, counting lightly on his fingers. “We have a Carrera S in Gentian Blue.” They passed it. Low. Elegant. Deep metallic blue under the lights. Sally slowed slightly. “That’s pretty.” Daniel nodded. “A very classic specification.” They continued. “Next we have a Carrera 4 GTS.” This one was darker, almost menacing. Wide rear hips. Center-lock wheels. Adrian stopped for a moment. “That one is interesting.” Daniel smiled. “It usually is.” Sally walked slowly around it. “GTS again.” Adrian glanced at her. “You seem to like GTS cars.” “They’re the sweet spot,” Sally said confidently. Daniel gave her a quick approving look. “Correct answer.” They continued further down the showroom. “And finally,” Daniel said, his tone shifting slightly, “we received one of these last week.” He stopped beside a car sitting slightly apart from the others. A 911 Turbo. Silver. Wide. Almost intimidating. Sally’s eyes widened. “Oh wow.” Daniel nodded. “992 Turbo.” Adrian walked slowly around it. His expression was thoughtful. Sally leaned toward him slightly. “Dad…” “Yes?” “That one looks… expensive.” Daniel laughed quietly. “That’s a fair observation.” Adrian crouched slightly to look at the rear intake. “Twin turbo flat-six.” Daniel nodded. “Very fast.” Sally looked between the cars. “So which one are you getting?” Adrian straightened. He looked across the showroom once more. Then back at Daniel. “What else do you have arriving?” Daniel’s smile widened slightly. “Ah.” He gestured toward his office again. “We may want to sit down for that conversation.”

"Hmm?" I didn't understanding the meaning of Milan's question until the point I'd lowered the binoculars and turned to face him, at which point I saw the camera in his hand and registered the Slovak word which sounded like photo. If Milan had happened to take a snap just as I turned around, then he would have taken a lovely candid portrait with a natural smile still fresh on my face following enjoying observing the scenery through the binoculars. If he hadn't, he would now only catch a scowl as I looked at the camera warily. "Je ne pensais pas que tu prendrais une photo de moi!" I pouted for a moment as I felt uncomfortable about having my photo taken, especially as I was still feeling uncomfortable and awkward with my new body, but after a minute I relented. My scowl gave way with a reluctant sigh. "OK." I agreed begrudgingly since there was no really harm in it, and I felt Milan deserved his own reward after kindly taking me up here. I stood a little straighter and made myself smile for the photograph. I wasn't sure if it was digital camera and Milan could show me the image he'd captured straight away, or if it was nitrate film and would need to be developed.  "Plus?" I asked him, unintentionally batting my eyes, wondering if he wanted to take more, and I would go on to allow him to suggest where and how he wanted me to pose or indeed if he wanted me to take a photo of him.

Hope you continue to try new brands and see what works for you.  Most incontinence stores offer free samples and I find that helps me so much find what works best for me.   

I guess you are- make sure to wash up and stay clean though especially if you are pooping those diapers.  can not stand the thought of pooping myself- ugh