Diaper References

Last part of Chapter 114, enjoy. At least part one of Chapter 115 later today. Chapter One Hundred & Fourteen: Part Six The December light moved differently — it didn’t crash into the world, it settled over it even in Florida. Pale gold stretched thin across the quiet streets, catching frost along the edges of lawns like delicate lace, turning rooftops into something almost silver. The air outside the Range Rover carried the faint, crisp bite of cold that promised winter was finally arriving, the kind of cold that made every breath feel clean and sharp.   Inside the Range Rover — Lilly sat with both hands on the wheel.   The engine hummed low beneath her.   Familiar. Steady.   Unlike everything else inside her. The road curved gently through their neighborhood, the same streets she had driven a hundred times before — school runs, grocery stops, late-night drives when she needed to think. Today it felt different. Heavier. The leather steering wheel was warm under her palms from the heater, but her fingers still felt cold. Her heart hadn’t stopped racing since she left the hospital.   The house came into view at the end of the street.   And for a moment — She didn’t pull into the driveway.   She just slowed. Watched it. The windows. The front door. The quiet stillness of it. Her grip tightened slightly on the wheel as her thoughts driffted back to....Bryan.....Paul.   Her man. Her boy.   She swallowed. You just left them. The thought came sharp. Uninvited and utterly worthless but her mind went there anyway. He just got home. He fought a storm to get back to you — and you left. Her jaw tightened.   And Paul — That one hurt more. Because she could still feel him. The weight of him in her arms. The way his fingers had curled into her shirt without thinking. The quiet trust in it. And she had walked away.   Even if it was just for a few hours. Even if it was practical. Even if it made sense.   It still felt —Wrong.   Lilly blinked hard, forcing the thought back. The Bluetooth chimed. Soft. Familiar. Connecting.   And then — A voice. Warm. Thick with southern honey and something deeper than just tone — Love.   “Well hey there, sugar…”   Kim. The sound of her voice didn’t just fill the car —It softened it. Lilly exhaled in a way she hadn’t since she pulled out of the hospital, the tension in her shoulders loosening just a fraction.   “Kim…”   And just like that — Her voice broke. Not fully. Just enough.   “Oh, sweet belle…” Kim’s voice softened instantly, wrapping around her like a warm blanket. “Don’t you start apologizin’ before I even get to say hello, now.”   Lilly let out a small, shaky laugh through the tears already gathering at the corners of her eyes.   “I’m so sorry — I should’ve called you sooner, I just — everything’s been —”   “Mm-mm,” Kim cut in gently, but firmly. “No ma’am. We’re not doin’ that.” “You don’t owe me a timeline, Lilly,” Kim said, voice steady and sure. “You’ve been holdin’ your world together with both hands, and I know that kind of tired.”   Lilly’s throat tightened. Kim didn’t give her space to spiral. She redirected.   “How’s Paul doin’, honey?”   There it was. The question that mattered. Lilly swallowed. Looked out through the windshield as her house sat just ahead of her.   “He’s…” she started, then stopped.   She tried again.   “He’s stable,” she said finally. “He’s… better than yesterday.”   Kim exhaled softly.   “Lord, thank You,” she murmured under her breath.   Then, quieter —   “Mindy called yesterday. Didn’t say much, just —” she let out a breath. “Honey, when a sentence starts with ‘Paul’s in the hospital with a broken rib’…”   Her voice dipped.   “…child, what happened to that boy?”   Lilly closed her eyes for a second. Then — She told her. Not everything. Not the blood. Not the sound of it.   But the truth.   “He was bullied,” she said quietly. “At school.”   A pause.   “Humiliated.”   Her fingers tightened again on the wheel.   “They… pulled his pants down.”   The words tasted wrong. Even now.   “Exposed him. In front of everyone.”   Kim didn’t speak. But Lilly could feel her listening.   “He fought back,” Lilly continued. “Of course he did. That’s Paul — he doesn’t just sit there and take it.”   A small, broken smile touched her lips.   “My brave boy.”   Then —   “He got hurt,” she said. “One rib broken. Two more badly bruised. Cuts on his face.”   Her voice dropped.   “They had to put mittens on his hands in the ambulance…”   A pause.   “…because he panicked so badly. They were afraid he would hurt himself even more.”   Silence. Not empty. Heavy. Then — Kim inhaled sharply.   “Oh hell no,” she said, low and dangerous in a way Lilly hadn’t heard from her in a long time. Her voice dropped into that deep Southern steel, the kind that made the air feel suddenly colder on the other end of the line.   “You listen to me right now, Lilly Goldhawk. No child of mine or child of my dearest and best friend — blood or not — gets humiliated and hurt like that. Not on my watch. I raised three and now four babies, and I swear on every Holy Book up and down the Florida- Georgia line, if I find out who laid a hand on that sweet boy…”   Her words sharpened like a blade, the Mama Bear rising fierce and protective, the warmth in her voice turning into something fierce and unyielding. Lilly could almost see Kim pacing in her kitchen, one hand on her hip, eyes narrowed, the same fire she used when her own children were threatened now burning for Paul. Lilly almost smiled through the tears.   “Yes,” she said softly. “We do.”   A beat.   “The school’s investigating.”   Another.   “And if they don’t handle it…”   Her voice steadied.   “…Bryan and I will.”   Kim exhaled slowly.   “Good,” she said.   But the anger didn’t disappear. It just settled. Then Lilly added —   “He took a turn yesterday.”   That shifted everything.   “They found blood,” she said quietly. “Had to pump his stomach.”   Kim didn’t respond right away. When she did — Her voice was softer. But more shaken.   “Alright,” she said. “That’s enough.”   Not dismissing. Protecting.   “Charles and I are comin’ by this afternoon.”   No hesitation.   “Three o’clock.”   Lilly let out a small breath.   “Kim, you don’t have to —”   “I said three o’clock, sugar,” Kim replied gently, but firmly. “And I ain’t takin’ no for an answer.”   A pause.   “And I’m bringin’ food.”   That made Lilly smile. Of course she was.   “Leftover fried turkey,” Kim continued, voice warming as she spoke. “Sliced thin, just how you like it. Gonna sandwich it up between my carrot and apple vinegar slaw —”   Lilly laughed softly now, wiping at her eyes.   “—and fresh honey thyme biscuits,” Kim finished proudly.   “Oh my god…”   “You better believe it,” Kim said. “That boy’s gonna eat somethin’ that tastes like home today.”   Lilly shook her head, smiling through tears.   “You better have enough for Bryan too.”   A beat.   “He’s home?”   There was something in Kim’s voice when she asked it. Hope. Relief.   “Yes,” Lilly said softly. “Got in late last night.”   Another breath.   “He fought a storm to get here.”   Kim clapped once, sharp and joyful.   “Mm! That man.”   Lilly could hear movement on the other end now — voices in the background.   “Savvy!” Kim called out. “Help your daddy get Mya and Will ready for service, baby!”   Then back to Lilly —   “We’re gonna have Savvy drop the kids off at church. She’s on call at the clinic, but she promised she’s comin’ by for lunch too.”   A pause.   “She nearly cried herself to sleep when we heard about Paul.”   That hit Lilly deep.   “She’s beyond fond of him, Lilly,” Kim added softly.   Lilly nodded, even though she couldn’t see it.   “I just pulled up to the house,” she said quietly.   She was in the driveway now. Engine idling. The house in front of her. Still quiet. Still waiting.   “Thank you,” Lilly said. “Really.” “For all of it.”   Kim’s voice softened again.   “You don’t thank family, honey.”   A beat.   “You lean on ’em.”   Lilly closed her eyes for just a second. Let that settle.   “We’re gonna get through this,” Kim said gently. “You hear me?”   Lilly nodded.   “Yeah,” she whispered.   “We are.”   Kim smiled through the line.   “Now go get your things and get back to your boys.”   That word again.   Boys.   Both of them. And somehow — That made the guilt soften.   “Love you,” Lilly said.   “Love you more,” Kim replied.   Lilly turned the key in the front door and stepped inside the empty house. The stillness wrapped around her like a quiet embrace the moment the door clicked shut behind her. No voices. No beeping monitors. No distant hallway chatter. Just the soft, familiar hush of home —  the gentle creak of hardwood under her boots, the subtle scent of Martina’s Cuban and Spanish cooking still lingering in the air from Friday afternoon. Sunlight filtered through the tall windows in pale December shafts, painting long golden stripes across the floor and turning dust motes into tiny floating stars. For one brief, precious moment the house felt like safety itself: calm, comforting, secure. A place where nothing bad could reach them. Lilly let her shoulders drop half an inch and breathed in the quiet like medicine. She was carrying her Louis Vuitton overnight bag — the sleek, monogrammed canvas one with the gold hardware that always felt like armor when she traveled — and Bryan’s high-end rollaway business bag, the black leather Tumi with the reinforced corners and the discreet monogrammed tag he’d had made in Tokyo. Both bags felt heavier than they should have. She set them gently beside the entryway table, the soft thump of canvas and leather against marble echoing once before the house swallowed the sound. Her eyes caught on the baby-blue envelope resting on the table. Stamped in crisp silver foil were the initials ABU. She picked it up, the paper cool and smooth under her fingers, and slid the letter free.   She read it carefully.   The ABU Pre-School diapers were temporarily discontinued. The manufacturer had run into supply-chain issues and would notify her by email the moment production resumed. Enclosed was the receipt confirming the return of her deposit to the card on file.   Lilly lowered the letter slowly. Great. One more hurdle for Paul to have to deal with.   The thought landed heavy in her chest. Discrete, refastable diapers weren’t at the top of her mind right now — his health was. But the uncertainty still twisted inside her like a knot she couldn’t loosen. Besides, was Paul even going to go back to school? What does that even look like? Online classes in his bedroom? Playtime with his toys downstairs? Naps? Changes? And who watches him then when Bryan or I can’t? Does Harley become a live-in nanny?   The questions swirled, pulling her thoughts into a daydream so vivid it felt like stepping through a doorway. She was opening the front door after a long day of working. The moment the latch clicked, her senses were hit by the bright, familiar tune of “How do we get to Sesame Street?” floating through the house like a cheerful invitation. Lilly stepped inside and the living room unfolded before her like a full-blown daycare wonderland. Stuffed animals spilled across the rug — giant dinosaurs, soft Elmo dolls, stacking rings in primary colors, Fisher-Price toys that blinked and sang, scattered crayons and half-colored pages of trucks and trains. The coffee table had become a snack station with sippy cups and tiny plates.   And right in the middle of it all sat Paul.   More regressed than she had ever seen him.   He was wearing a soft white T-shirt that read “Mam’s Baby Boy” in chunky pastel block lettering — far too short, riding up to reveal the thick, crinkly safari diaper hugging his hips. The diaper’s cheerful jungle animals and ruffled leg gathers were on full display, the padding so bulky it forced his legs apart in that adorable toddler waddle. Paul didn’t care. He was too busy sitting cross-legged on the rug, eyes glued to the giant TV where Elmo was singing about letters, his pacifier bobbing happily between his lips.   Lilly turned — and there was Harley.   Bright pink hair bouncing, dressed in a sweet, practical nanny outfit: a soft pastel blouse tucked into high-waisted khaki pants, comfortable sneakers, and a little name tag that simply read “Harley – Paul’s Nanny.” No leather, no crop, no dominance — just warm, playful care.   “Okay who’s ready for baba to watch Big Bird?” Harley sang in a bright, sing-song voice, clapping her hands as she carried a warm bottle of milk across the room. Paul lit up, gurgling happily around his paci and reaching chubby arms toward her. Harley dropped to her knees beside him, tickling his belly until he squealed with pure little-boy laughter, the thick diaper crinkling loudly with every wiggle. “That’s my good wittle boy! Look at you being such a happy baby for Miss Harley!” Lilly shook herself out of the daydream, cheeks warm. We’ll cross that bridge if or when we come to it. But for right now she had a job to do. She left the bags by the stairs and headed up to Paul’s bedroom first. Since she had left his diaper bag at the hospital with Bryan, she couldn’t restock it, but everything she really needed was in his closet. She grabbed Paul’s own high-end smaller wheeled carrier — sleek black with the large Jacksonville Jaguars 90’s logo embroidered boldly on the back — and filled it with a pair of his favorite teal shorts and a pair of comfortable Nike track pants. She also thought it would be cute for the family to all wear Florida Panthers jerseys, so she grabbed Paul’s along with hers and Bryan’s. Then she reached up and pulled down a full case of his Critter Caboose diapers. Set them gently into the bag.   Did the math without thinking.   Four left at the hospital… twelve here…enough until Wednesday.   Lilly hated that they hadn’t told him yet, but they would today. After yesterday’s incident the doctors were demanding to keep him overnight until mid-week to ensure no other surprises. He’d be spending his 18th birthday in a room designed for an 18-month-old instead. She sighed but kept packing.   She left Paul’s suitcase by the door, then carried her and Bryan’s bags past the kitchen. Martina had left after her Friday; the faint, warm aroma of Cuban and Spanish cooking still lingered — arroz con pollo, maduros, maybe some ropa vieja. There would be family dinners for days when everyone finally came home. Lilly couldn’t wait. Finally she reached the master bedroom. She showered quickly, the hot water washing away the hospital smell and the weight of the morning.  Refreshed, she changed into an outfit that screamed early December in Jacksonville, Florida: a soft cream cashmere turtleneck sweater from Lululemon tucked into tailored black ponte pants, a lightweight quilted vest in deep forest green (perfect for the mild chill), and her favorite buttery leather ankle boots. A simple gold necklace and her wedding rings completed the look — expensive, functional, and quietly powerful.   She got to work pulling out her medium-sized Louis Vuitton roller bag. She packed her pink Panthers hockey jersey, another pair of Lululemon black pants, and a pair of cozy PJ’s just in case Paul wanted her, Bryan, or both of them to spend the night again. In truth, she could really use a nap in her own bed. Then she packed Bryan’s Panthers jersey, two golf shirts, a pair of Dockers and jeans, along with a few pairs of boxers for him and the satin panties she knew he liked.   The roller was packed.   But as Lilly was heading back down the hallway, she paused again next to what should have been another home office or guest room and just stared at the empty space. The late-morning light poured through the bare windows in soft, forgiving shafts, turning the plain beige walls into a blank canvas that seemed to wait for her. Her thoughts echoed what Dr. McGinnis had mentioned to her yesterday afternoon about Paul’s recovery: “Given his current condition… someone should probably be close. At night. Just in case.”   The blank space was almost like a siren’s song, drawing her in as her mind began racing with possibility.   The last month had seen an escalation in Paul’s condition—the neediness that tugged at her heartstrings every time he reached for her hand, the frequent wet diapers that were no longer occasional but a quiet, constant signal, his increasing desire to slip into little space rather than fight to stay big.  His closet already told that story better than words ever could: the little wardrobe, including his diapers and toys, were beginning to take over. The changing table and diaper pail in the corner no longer felt like they belonged to an eighteen-year-old boy trying to hold onto adulthood. They felt like the beginning of something deeper, something she was only now brave enough to name.   But what if we could give him that space separate from his adult self? The thought bloomed warm and certain in her chest. Close to her and Bryan at night. A safe space with a real bed like the one at Kim’s, where he had slept in complete peace. If he rolled out, rails would keep him safe and unhurt. With his ribs now, they couldn’t afford the scare—but what if?   Lilly stepped fully into the room, her phone already open, fingers flying like a skilled contractor sketching blueprints in real time. She began looking up rail beds for larger toddlers. She didn’t want Paul on the floor like at Kim’s. He needed some elevation so he could get in and out without hurting himself, without that extra ache in his bruised ribs. Her eyes grew wide as she found it. The Luca Montessori Floor Bed with Safety Rails—toddler size, crafted from solid pine wood with a water-based stain that smelled faintly of fresh-cut timber even through the screen. Low-profile for independence, built-in vertical guardrails spaced safely below 2 3/8 inches to prevent falls, and optional 4-inch legs to raise it slightly. High weight capacity tested to support at least 500 pounds. Easy assembly.     She pulled up the augmented-reality view on her phone and the room around her seemed to shimmer and transform in the digital overlay. The bed materialized right there near the fall left wall just as you opened the door—beautiful natural wood frame glowing softly in the imagined light. Things started comming across cleaer, like the green bedding tucked neatly, the fabric whispering with imagined softness, a cheerful dinosaur quilt draped over one side with cartoon triceratops and T-rexes marching across white fabric, the kind of blanket that promised safety and wonder all at once.  A pair of his Jordans sat next to the bed on the floor as if he had just taken them off, the worn leather still carrying the faint, earthy scent of grass and play, as if Paul had kicked them off after a long day of “big boy” adventures before crawling into bed. The rails stood protectively like gentle arms, cool and smooth under imagined fingertips. It fit perfectly. She could already feel the low hum of the sports mobile turning overhead, its soft instrumental lullaby filling the room with tinkling notes of tiny footballs and basketballs spinning in lazy circles, the gentle whoosh of air as they rotated above his peaceful face.   Selfishly, Lilly could feel her maternal side shift into overdrive. Was this for him? Or was part of her craving the chance to fully embrace this new role she had stepped into three months ago—the role that had quietly replaced her old ambitious dreams of red carpets and sponsorship deals? The question brought a flicker of guilt, the echo of her former self whispering that she was losing herself again, that Bryan was away too much and her modeling shoots were already squeezed between changes and playdates. But the guilt was quickly overtaken by something fiercer and truer: protectiveness. Paul needed this. They all did. This was the support that let a normal life—his life—feel possible again.   She could almost smell the faint baby-powder sweetness that would cling to the air after every change, hear the soft crinkle of a fresh diaper as she tucked him in, feel the warmth of his palm curling into hers while she rocked him.   Her mind raced ahead, painting the space in vivid strokes that carried every sense. The wood floor could be covered with soft foam mats that snapped together with a satisfying click, their plush texture yielding under bare feet like a cloud—a perfect play space for when he wanted to spread out with his toys without worrying about hard edges or bruised ribs. The closet would be ideal for housing his diapers, supplies, and clothing, tucked away neatly so his big side never feels crowded. Upstairs could be his sanctuary for his future,his online classes, where he could get lost in his video games, pick out the adult outfits that gave him pride, and a bathroom where he only needed to shave his face. Here, the faint rustle of plastic packs and the clean scent of wipes drifted out whenever the door opened. The changing table could be brought downstairs, along with the rocking chair, its gentle creak already echoing in her ears. She was picturing Paul’s very own nursery/playroom, basically, and with a half-bath attached. If he needed to potty—wait, did I just think “potty”?—whatever. It would be there for them. Paul would be closer to them, on the first floor in the east wing, where she and Bryan could hear every little sigh in the night, every soft gurgle around his pacifier.   Lilly’s mind drifted one last time, the vision blooming fully like a film sequence bathed in warm golden light. An accent wall of Batman and his partners and villains painted in a soft, child-friendly art style—bold but gentle colors, no darkness, just heroes keeping watch, their capes seeming to flutter in the imagined breeze from the ceiling fan. The rest of the room in light teal with elegant gold trim on the baseboards and crown molding, the same warm honey glow from hidden LED strips that Kim had used in her playroom, casting everything in a soft, sleepy radiance. The changing table folded down permanently, waiting when needed, stocked and ready like a quiet promise, the faint powdery scent already rising in her imagination. A drawer unit for toys, stuffies, and odds and ends, their soft fabrics brushing against her fingers as she arranged them. In the center, a plush sheepskin rug where Paul could snuggle if he was too tired even to climb into bed, its wool thick and warm under his cheek.   She could picture both her and Bryan standing over that bed at night. Bryan tucking the blankets tight around Paul’s shoulders with that quiet, steady fatherly care, the fabric sighing under his hands as he whispered with a gentle smile,   “You’re my little slugger in the recording booth, kiddo—sleep tight.”   Lilly winding the mobile, the soft click of the key turning, then leaning down to kiss Paul lovingly on the cheek and forehead, cooing in the softest baby-talk voice.   “Night-night, my precious special boy… Mommy’s right here, always. Sweet dreams, sweet pea… you’re safe… time for sleepy eyes now….”   Bryan joining in with his own quiet kiss on Paul’s forehead, both of them watching as Paul’s eyes slowly drifted closed, the pacifier bobbing gently between his lips with a faint, rhythmic suck, the quilt rising and falling with each peaceful breath. The image filled Lilly with a warmth so profound it almost hurt—deep in her chest, like the first sip of hot tea on a chilly morning. This wasn’t just about practicality. This was about giving Paul a place where both sides of him could finally breathe—where the little boy who needed safety could rest without shame, and the young man rebuilding his future could know he was still loved exactly as he was. For the first time since the fight, Lilly felt something steady click into place inside her: not loss, not sacrifice, but purpose. She had grown into this. She was choosing this. And it felt right.   Lilly was finally jolted out of the daydream when she checked her watch. It was almost 11:45. It was time to head back to both her boys, and she couldn’t wait to kiss and hold them again.   The television in Paul’s hospital room flickered with the bright greens and golds of the Jacksonville Jaguars’ home field, the roar of the crowd pouring through the speakers like a living thing. The camera-like angle of the mounted television captured it all in vivid high-definition: “…AND LAWRENCE DROPS BACK—PRESSURE COMING—HE STEPS UP—THROWS—”   The roar of the crowd spilled through the speakers like thunder rolling across the pediatric ward, the bright green of the Jacksonville Jaguars’ field cutting sharply against the soft pastel tones of the walls. Helmets clashed with a distant crack. Pads thudded. The Jacksonville Jaguars versus Indianapolis Colts—a Sunday ritual that refused to care what was happening in the rest of the world, its energy pulsing through the small space like a heartbeat.   For a moment— It almost made the room feel normal. Almost.   Paul sat propped up in bed, held upright by a combination of pillows, tension, and stubbornness. The turquoise cotton of his hospital gown—soft, almost too soft—wrapped around him like something that didn’t belong to someone his age. Cheerful puzzle-piece bears scattered across the fabric in red, blue, and green stared back at a world that didn’t feel cheerful at all. The thin material whispered against his skin with every shallow breath, carrying the faint antiseptic tang of the hospital laundry and the warmer, underlying scent of his own skin still flushed from yesterday’s ordeal.   His tracker blinked beside him. Yellow.   12:50 PM. Lunch. The tray slid into place with a quiet click, the plastic legs locking against the bed rail like a cage door. Paul stared at it. And the word came to him immediately. Clear. Sharp. Unfiltered.   “…that looks anemic.”   It wasn’t even said with anger at first. Just disbelief. The saltine crackers—animal-shaped—sat in a neat pile, their edges already softening in the humid hospital air. A bowl of salad drowned in ranch dressing, the creamy white pooling like spilled paint around limp spinach leaves and carrot shreds. Orange Jell-O wobbled slightly with every small shift of the table, catching the overhead fluorescent light in trembling reflections. And—chicken noodle soup. Steam rising faintly. Thin. Pale. Unconvincing. The broth carried a watery, almost metallic scent that made Paul’s stomach twist even as it growled loud enough for both of them to hear.   Paul’s stomach growled. Loud enough that even he noticed it. Because that was the problem. He was hungry. Really hungry. But this? This wasn’t food.   Not to him. Not right now.   His jaw tightened. And the adult side of him—the part that knew what his body needed—tried to step forward. Eat something. Just eat. You need it. But the other part—the part that had been raw, exposed, shaken loose from everything yesterday—that part didn’t care about logic. It cared about control. And right now—this tray felt like losing it.   Bryan stood nearby, arms loosely crossed, watching his son with a patience that had already been tested more times than the day deserved. The faint scent of airplane coffee and the crisp December air still clung to his rumpled button-down; the storm he’d flown through lingered in the faint tension around his eyes. He followed Paul’s gaze. Looked at the tray. Then—“…yeah,” he admitted, scratching lightly at his jaw, the stubble rasping under his fingers. “I mean… I’ve seen better.”   Paul’s eyes flicked to him. A flicker of validation. Exactly. But Bryan didn’t stay there. Didn’t let it settle. “But,” he added, stepping closer, voice shifting just slightly—firmer now, grounded, the same steady tone that had anchored them through worse. “You still need to eat something, bud.”   Paul exhaled sharply through his nose. Turned his head back toward the TV. Avoidance. Classic. “I’m fine.”   “You’re not,” Bryan replied calmly, the words heavy with the weight of every mile he’d crossed to get here.   Paul’s jaw tightened. “I said I’m fine.”   Bryan didn’t bite. Didn’t escalate. But he didn’t back off either.   “You’ve got three bruised ribs, one broken, your body’s been through hell, and the only thing you’ve had today after breakfast is electrolytes, good job finishing it, by the way—but you need real calories” he said, nodding slightly toward the emptying bottle of Pedialyte, its plastic still cool from the fridge. “So no… you’re not fine.”   Paul huffed, the sound half-exasperated teenager, half-petulant toddler.   “Dad, I’m watching the game.”   His voice cracked on the last word, the little side slipping through. The big side wanted to argue like an adult—I can feed myself—but the words came out whiny, petulant, like a seventeen-year-old who’d rather die than be babied. The tracker ticked up a shade brighter yellow, the glow catching the edge of his vision.   Paul grabbed the remote. Turned the volume up slightly. “…AND IT’S CAUGHT—FIRST DOWN—” The crowd roared louder, the sound crashing over them like a wave trying to drown the tension in the room. He focused on it. Clung to it. Because it was easier than this. Bryan watched him for a second longer. Then moved. Slow. Deliberate. He reached for the bib. Safari print. Soft. Familiar in a way that carried weight now. And the spork. Plastic. Light. Practical.   Paul saw it. And everything in him rejected it. “No.” It came out fast. Sharp.   Bryan paused. Looked at him.   “I’m not doing that,” Paul added, eyes still on the TV but voice tighter now.   Bryan tilted his head slightly. “Doing what?”   Paul finally looked at him. “That.” A nod toward the spork. The bib. The implication. “I can feed myself.”   There it was. Not just resistance. Pride.   Bryan studied him. Measured the moment. Because this wasn’t about food anymore. It was about something deeper. Something fragile. “Alright,” Bryan said after a beat. “Then feed yourself.” He set the spork back down on the tray. Didn’t force it. Didn’t push.   Paul blinked. Caught off guard for half a second. Then—he picked up the spork. Dipped it into the salad. Too much ranch. Of course. It slid. Dripped. Uncooperative. He tried again. The movement awkward. Stiff. Careful. Because every small twist of his torso sent a dull ache through his ribs, a sharp reminder of Friday’s violence that made his breath hitch. He lifted it. Halfway. Stopped. His grip faltered just slightly. Not enough to drop it. But enough to feel it. To know—this wasn’t as simple as it used to be.   His expression shifted. Frustration creeping in.   Bryan saw it. Didn’t comment. Didn’t step in. Just watched. Let him try as he took a seat beside Paul’s bed. And then—something changed. Subtle. But real. The frustration didn’t settle. It twisted. Turned. Found somewhere else to go. Paul’s eyes flicked to Bryan. Then back to the tray as if his adult & little side stopped being combatants and instead   conspirators. Then—without warning—“Bryan.” Bryan blinked. “…what?”   Paul didn’t answer. He just—flicked the spork. The leaf of spinach—heavy with ranch—launched. Perfect arc. Perfect aim. Time slowed just enough—to appreciate it. And then—splat. Right. In the center. Of Bryan’s face.   Silence.   For half a second. Then Paul tried to laugh—a deep, devilish cackle that started in his belly and died instantly in his ribs. The pain slammed into him like a linebacker, turning the laugh into a sharp, suffocated cough that rattled his chest and made his eyes water. The laugh broke into a cough. Then another. Pain flashing across his face as he instinctively curled forward—“Ah—shit—”   Bryan didn’t move at first. Ranch dripping slowly down his cheek, the cool creamy texture sliding toward his jaw like an unwelcome tear. He blinked once. Twice. Then—“…okay.” A pause. “…that was a nice shot.” He wiped his face with the back of his hand. Looked at the mess. Then back at Paul. “But it’s gonna cost you.”   Paul was still trying to catch his breath. Still half-laughing. Half-wincing. Which made him slower. Vulnerable. Bryan had the Safari bib unfolded and wrapped gently but firmly around his son’s neck. The soft fabric settled against Paul’s collarbones with a quiet rustle, the Velcro tabs clicking into place. Bryan took the spork back, dipping it into the soup with calm determination.   Paul’s eyes widened. “Oh no—no—no—”   “Open.”   “I am NOT—”   “Paul.” There was a tone there now. Not angry. But firm. Grounded. The kind that didn’t ask twice.   The little side and big side finally aligned in perfect, horrified unison. “Daddddddddd—” The whine came out long and drawn-out, half-protest, half-plea, the word stretching like taffy just as the door swung open.   Lilly stepped inside, the faint scent of her fresh shower and the crisp December air from outside still clinging to her cream cashmere sweater. She froze mid-step, her eyes took in the scene in one sweeping glance: the ranch smear still glistening on Bryan’s cheek, the bib now snug around Paul’s neck, the half-eaten spinach leaf lying innocently on the tray table like evidence, the TV still cheering another Jag first down in the background.   For a heartbeat, the three of them simply stared at one another.   Then Lilly’s lips twitched. The maternal warmth that had been building inside her all morning—the same warmth that had bloomed while she stood in that empty room picturing Paul’s future nursery—spilled over into something soft and helplessly fond. She saw it all at once: Paul’s big side fighting for dignity, his little side grabbing onto mischief like a lifeline; Bryan’s travel-weary patience stretched thin but never breaking, the same steady love that had carried him through a Pacific storm to get home. And herself—standing in the doorway, no longer the ambitious woman who once dreamed only of spotlights, but the woman who had chosen this messy, complicated, beautiful family. She set her bag down quietly, the soft thump barely audible over the game.   “Well,” she said, voice warm and laced with that gentle baby-talk lilt she couldn’t quite hide anymore, “looks like I walked in at exactly the right time.”   Paul’s whine died in his throat, replaced by a sheepish little grin around the edges of his cough. Bryan wiped the last of the ranch from his face and met Lilly’s eyes across the bed, the exhaustion in his shoulders easing just a fraction at the sight of her.   Paul froze. Mortified.   Bryan exhaled through his nose. “…he started it.”   “I did NOT—”   “You launched a vegetable at me.”   “It was a warning shot!”   Lilly set the bags down slowly. Calm. Measured. Eyes moving between them. Taking in more than just the moment. Reading the layers underneath. Paul’s frustration. Bryan’s concern. The way both of them were trying—and missing each other just slightly. She stepped closer. Soft. Grounding.   “Hey,” she said gently, resting a hand against Paul’s arm. He looked at her. And just like that—something in his expression softened. Not gone. But eased. “Hey,” he muttered. Quieter now.   Lilly glanced at the tray. Then at Bryan. Then back to Paul. “Okay,” she said softly. “Let’s reset.” She picked up the spork. Not taking it from Bryan. Just placing her hand lightly over his for a moment. A silent exchange. He let go. Not because he had to. Because he trusted her.   She crouched slightly. Closer to Paul’s level. Voice softening. But not babying. Not fully. Just enough. “You don’t have to like it,” she said. “I don’t like it either.” A small exhale from Paul. Agreement. “But your body needs something,” she continued. “Not everything. Just something. Plus we’ve got a surpise for you later today but first a little a lunch.”   She scooped a small sporkful. Simple. Manageable. Held it there. Waiting. Not forcing. Not rushing. Paul stared at it. Then at her. Then away. His jaw tightened. Loosened. Tightened again. And then—slowly—he opened his mouth.   Behind her—Bryan watched. Quiet. Still. Not stepping in. Not correcting. Just observing. Learning. Adjusting. Because this—this was different. Not losing control. Not giving it up. But sharing it. And for the first time since the tray arrived, Paul ate. Not much. Not fast. But enough. And for now—that was a win.   The game continued in the background. “…TOUCHDOWN JACKSONVILLE—”    The roar of the crowd swelled once more, but inside the room the real victory felt smaller, quieter, and infinitely more important: a family learning, bite by reluctant bite, how to hold each other together.

Anything can be difficult to clean up, that's why you've always planned for a shower after. Oatmeal works great, especially if you can inject it up your rear!

Hey everyone! Sorry for the sporadic posts here. My circadian rhythm has been about the same since 2013 and now, I need to change it back to what it was almost 15 years ago now. It’s not easy but I think I’m slowly getting there. This story should also be picking up a little bit very soon. I know it’s a slow burn and I knew it was going to be a risk telling this from a Big’s perspective. Lots of introspection and conversations. It’s a tough needle to thread and definitely something I’m going to keep in mind with my future stories. Less caregivers and more of the regressed I think would be better for you all. I could be wrong, but it’s the beauty about writing more than one story. One works less than the others and you can always change the next one. Further, this chapter is a little longer than I was anticipating. I had to hit some points and that’s just how these things go sometimes. Also, remember that there’s another poll up right now. You can find the link and the options back in chapter 14, and as a reminder, my choice for my next story will be announced with my final chapter. A reminder will go out before and the poll will close once I announce it. Now… last but not least and as usual, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter of my story! Chapter 18: Those Feelings Deep Down “… and Philosopher Leopold tells us that feeling bad about something can in fact make us a good person in many circumstances,” Dr. Pepperidge continued in her guest lecture at UCA in front of a packed audience… as usual. “It is in our ability to feel guilt that we show our empathy… for everyone; from a snail to a Little to a fellow Big. And there, if possible, we can find the truth of the matter and discover how to improve for the next time we face such a decision.” She clicked the slide to a humorous cartoon about a man hammering his thumb. The audience chuckled heavily at that. After seeing Addy up in the audience and smiling and nodding to her, Dr. Pepperidge smiled back to the class in turn. “Yes… I thought you all would like this…” She took a sip of water. “But here we can see a simple man hammering his thumb once… twice… but on the third? He takes it away… only in the next panel to then walk headfirst into a door.” Dr. Pepperidge walked to the center of the stage and looked up at her audience. “As Bigs, we may be blessed with superior intellect and physicality, but that does not make us better people. We are subject to the same idiocy found in all walks of life. Doubly so, it also doesn’t remove our burden of guilt or responsibility toward others. If we truly see Littles as helpless and as surrogates for the babies that so many of us are sorrowfully denied these days… then we must also accept the responsibility to be better beings for them. Sometimes, that makes us feel bad about ourselves but do yourself this favor… listen to your conscience and ask yourself if what you are doing to your Little you would be willing to do for a sick family member. It is only then that we truly become the great species of these multiple dimensions that we claim to be.” She smiled and nodded. “Thank you.” The audience erupted in cheers. Being Calidaforna, her lectures on Big guilt and responsibility toward the Littles of this dimension and on Earth almost always went well. In the south, not always so much, and Addy was always worried for her mom’s safety when she went down there, but today… she just smiled and skipped down the steps to greet her mom. “Pumpkin!” her mom warmly greeted Addy, almost ignoring the line in front of her for further questions and going over to hug her daughter tight. “Hey… mom…” Addy could feel her breath escaping her… but she didn’t mind. With her mom mostly on the east coast and her on the west coast these days, they didn’t get to see each other as much as either would like. “Mom… can’t… breathe…” “Wha…? Oh!” Dr. Pepperidge released her daughter and studied her for a moment, only after, then adjusting a strand of her hair out of her face and smiling back. “It’s just so good to see you. And…” “Uh… mom?” Addy gestured behind her before she rambled on. “Your students?” “My…?” Dr. Pepperidge wheeled around and laughed. “Oh! Oops!” It was almost hard to believe that she was a board member of one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the country, an adjunct faculty member and honorary professor at nearly a dozen universities around Libertalia, and had now successfully established an entire chain of facilities to help the most sick and needy Littles back on Earth right here in this dimension. “Ginny!” Dr. Pepperidge called out to her assistant. “Please… take their names for me and their phone numbers and email addresses. I will be in 30 minutes early to my next lecture in…” She glanced at her watch. “Gosh… an hour and a half… Give them priority passes to ask me questions then. I can show up 20 minutes early to help them out then. Now…” She turned back to Addy and gave her traditional motherly smile to her daughter. “I have a very important lunch date.” Sometimes, Addy felt guilty taking her mom away from her students and admirers. They could learn so much from her and a presence like her was needed in this world. With so many pushing forced regression onto Littles, Dr. Pepperidge was the force to push back and hold the tide from Little’s rights from becoming a lost cause entirely in some circles of society. “Now then…” With Ginny attending to the students, Dr. Pepperidge turned her attention quickly back to her daughter as she escorted her out of the classroom. “Tell me all about your classes. Your dad tells me that you want to go into medicine. A specialty in pharmaceuticals.” Addy was almost shocked to see her mom so happy over that. “You mean… you’re not upset?” Dr. Pepperidge paused for a moment and seemed hurt and shocked. “You think…?” She almost looked out of breath. “Addy-bear… I would never be upset with you and what choices you’re making if they make you happy and are safe.” She paused and followed her daughter to a nearby diner they both enjoyed off campus. “Now… I won’t say that I’m not a little disappointed that you’re not going into Little’s studies…” She sighed but still seemed more than thrilled in seeing her daughter, a speck of pride shining through constantly. “I mean, you were always so good with them during the summers when you…” “I know mom,” Addy interrupted hastily, hoping to not drag this conversation out yet again since she had been accepted here. “I just… I like my course load. It challenges me and I love the sciences.” One thought did pop into her head though. “Although…” She trailed off. Dr. Pepperidge caught it though. “Although… what, dear?” Addy winced, almost wishing she hadn’t brought it up. “It’s just… this one professor here… Dr. Halgen… she keeps hounding me over a spot with her personally in Little’s studies. Not for me, but a great teacher no doubt… I think you would love her, honestly…” “Hmmm…” Dr. Pepperidge stroked her chin as they paused at a traffic light before crossing the road. “Halgen, huh? I’ll have to look into her…” “Yeah…” Addy didn’t want to be the cause of another faculty member being taken away and swept off their feet by her mom. Already, she had lost two teachers to Psyche who were now head of their own facilities in other parts of the country. “I just like the medicine side is all. Teachers there say I have a knack for it as well. Two paths I guess, but with you and dad, I guess I shouldn’t be so supri… mom?” Addy looked over and her mom had paused after they had crossed the street. Now leaning against a nearby tree, her mom looked in pain. Quickly, Dr. Pepperidge reached into her purse and pulled out a bottle of some kind before popping two pills from within. “Mom?” Addy asked with a fair amount of concern. “Are you… okay there? What are those?” Her eyes were glued to the pills. They looked familiar… like something she had once seen at the hospital or in one of her more recent textbooks. Swallowing dryly, Dr. Pepperidge quickly looked relieved. “Yes, sweetie. I’m fine. Just… some problems our doc back home picked up on my last visit. Just a little hiccup and nothing more. You know meds these days and how fast they work. No need to worry…” Not a moment later, she was back on her feet and nearly sprinting down toward their usual spot at the diner, her hunger seemingly already set on her usual chicken Caesar salad there. And as Addy looked at her mom, she wanted to be happy. She was happy seeing her… she just felt an incredible amount of unease as her mom walked off. Her own heart suddenly felt heavy and in pain, like it knew what the eyes couldn’t make out and understood the words her ears might have been mishearing. But after a second, she just passed it off as hunger pains and quickly joined her mom. *              *              * “Did you see Yolanda yesterday?” Casie asked, adding her last earring to complete her ensemble for the night, hurriedly trying to attach the backing behind her ear to secure it tightly. “I thought she might have passed out or something!” “I did,” Addy confirmed with a little sadness as she added the last of her blush in front of the vanity mirror. “I didn’t think she was going to come tonight after her Christina so easily chose… what’s his name again? Brad… something?” Erin nodded. “Brad Pennyworth,” she confirmed gleefully. “Looks, charms, and more than enough money to satisfy her with toys a plenty for years to come. My money’s on that she’ll never want to go back to Earth at the end of her contracted stay.” Addy had to keep herself from rolling her eyes. Erin tended to think of things in black and white. Sometimes, that was to her advantage but with Littles and staying or going in this dimension with their caregivers, it was hardly ever so cut and dry. “Maybe, but don’t discount the pull of wanting to be an adul…” “Oh!” Deidra exclaimed, her panic full and mounting as she searched the floor. “I dropped my earring. Anyone see where it went?” The group of nurses in the back room all getting ready for their party tonight looked at the floor. Most shook their heads, but Wendy popped to the floor and picked up a small gold object she had just spotted. “Here it is, Dee!” She then hurried over and gave it to her fellow nurse. Deidra beamed at the found object and quickly put it in her ear with the locking backing right away before it dropped again. “Thank you so much! I just don’t know where my head’s been lately.” Addy had a guess. “Izzy giving you trouble lately?” Deidra sighed loudly and nodded her head grimly. “I think so…” She briefly winced. “I… I was hoping it was just a phase. You know how these Littles get sometimes when they go through this process… they watch a cartoon one day and drop in their maturity like a rock before bedtime but then hover there at the exact same spot for weeks on end. With Izzy though… just seems like a straight drop down.” “Maybe she’s more susceptible to the programming Dr. Tracey’s go them on?” Erin suggested, her concern almost unusual at this stage with another Little. “I’ve seen that it’s got some serious power behind it and if she’s more vulnerable… Could be something there.” She then smiled, a little notion of her old self resurfacing briefly. “Or maybe she’s just one of those Littles.” Deidra shook her head after she put on the last of her lipstick. “No… I don’t think so. Former honor’s student… she had just graduated with her master’s degree in biology with a concentration in botany. Smart cookie, but now… she just can’t seem to keep her pull-ups dry for more than an hour for the life of her. I think she’s headed toward diapers with a day or two now.” “So soon?” Cassie asked, looking genuinely worried. “Our class just started having potty problems a few weeks ago. As the last batch to enter, she should still be two weeks away per the schedule we always follow.” “Changing times…” Wendy mused with an undercut of worry and dread. “I’m not so sure that Dr. Tracey really cares about that old schedule. And for that matter… the board doesn’t seem to care either…” Addy sat on her bench and finished her makeup. She viewed her fellow nurses, and she could already hear the rumblings of dissatisfaction and confusion in their ranks with the newer Psyche and Juventas policies. ‘I could bring them in with Cass and I, but…’ She looked over and saw Erin, usually not seeming to mind the changes one bit, but now seemingly genuinely worried about what it all meant. Still… for every Wendy or Deidra or Cassie, there was a Penny. Even if the room wasn’t even half the nurses, they might still be outnumbered by the others who had already gotten ready or elected to stay behind tonight back at the facility to watch over the Littles. So, for the moment at least, Addy merely excused herself and waded outside and to the nearby party being held in their honor, or more specifically, the honor of the nurses who just finished their final rounds with the latest batch of Littles at Psyche. Happening once a month, Addy sometimes went… sometimes she stayed back. Before she reconnected with her dad, she almost always stayed behind and watched over the Littles. Now though… she wanted to be here. Not only did she want to support her dad… she wanted answers. And she knew, however worriedly, those answers could only be found at these parties and with the board. Outside now, she could feel the ending-chill of the winter and the coming of nicer weather in March as she walked from the prep room to the main hall where the party was being held at Juventas HQ. From her time growing up around here, she knew sometimes March was essentially Spring with warm days and events filled with sun. Other times, they could get multiple feet of snow by the end. As she wandered around though, trying to stay warm in her sleek sleeveless dress and making her way over to the party, she saw multiple nurses from the other facilities around the country. For every four or five states now, much to their pride, there was at least one facility. One in each time zone and definitely one in every type of walk of life, from the urban to the completely rural. Here in Crescentia, they rode the line between the two, being nestled snugly between Baltimorum and the nation’s capital of New Columbia. “So… you’re the Big who started breastfeeding their Little, huh?” one of the taller nurses asked her suddenly, nearly scaring Addy into spilling her drink. Fortunately, her hand was posed just right to cap off the stop to prevent any spillage. “Gosh! You scared me there,  but… yes.” Addy knew she had to stand firm on what she had done. The board had voted to keep her, and she didn’t want to be seen as some doormat everyone could just walk over because she had saved Oliver’s life in a more unusual way. Instead of angry though, the woman smiled broadly and jutted out her hand to shake. “Pleasure to meet you. I’m Delia… from the facility out in Calidaforna. Heard about you and your Little, and let me just tell you…” Her hands clutched her chest, slightly justling the curly red locks that draped down from her head. “You are an inspiration to us all out there.” “I am?” Addy was more than a little shocked to hear so. “You are,” Delia said while nodding. “You just went for it, consequences be damned. A true nurse just looking out for her Little. I wish others could be so bold and follow your lea…” “Excuse me?” another nurse interjected, this one another nurse interjected, this one much shorter, broader, and with more closely cropped blonde hair. “Did I hear that you were the breastfeeding nurse?” Addy nearly had the mind to blush at such a direct question, but she managed to let out a small nod. “I am…” She could already sense the admonition in this new nurse. “Well… I never!” She stuck her weathered hands on her hips, a seemingly homemade bracelet clacking as she did so. “We from Colorubrum heard the same and we couldn’t believe a nurse would be so selfish to jeopardize their own Little and the whole program like that!” “But I didn’t!” Addy quickly protested, quickly feeling under fire. “Hmmph!” she scoffed. “Name’s Josie. You best remember it because it will be the one who will be writing a formal complaint to the board about you! We have enough trouble from all those conservative Bigs. We don’t need you making us all look like a bunch of predatory creatures only out to find our next victim of a Little for our own desires!” “Now you just wait right there,” Delia budged in right as Addy was just about to defend herself. “She did what was right for her Little. She saved his life as far as I can tell.” Her head then snapped to Addy. “Right?” “Right,” Addy answered quickly though more diminutively this time, wishing she was nearly anywhere else, her desire to mingle now totally evaporated. ‘Why did I come here tonight? I’d rather change a thousand smelly diapers than deal with these other nurses judging me…’ She didn’t regret saving Oliver’s life… she just didn’t like the fallout now from others over it. For many she was finding, it painted her in a very negative light. To some, she was just an opportunistic nurse, who was solely deadest on regressing Oliver and trapping him here forever by addicting him to her milk. Ridiculous but the rumor mill had been working overtime lately. “But she’s a menace to every independent Little out there… not to mention those back on Earth,” Josie continued angrily. “Wait until they get ahold of that news story! How many do you think are going to be knocking on our doors now because of her?” “Nonsense!” Delia fired back, continuing the trend of almost nearly ignoring Addy entirely now. “A desperate Little will do anything. Rumors have been floating for years and from what I’ve heard… the Flosus location would have given them fear enough in the past five years. And have our numbers gone down?” Addy knew they hadn’t. In fact, they almost had to turn awa other Littles or redirect them to other organizations now. There’s was the best and most democratic and had the least number of strings attached to it or traps a Little could fall in, but they weren’t the only ones anymore. Still, Addy didn’t like what she was hearing, and she quickly got overwhelmed with the guilt of her actions. Save one life, yes, but now… how many others would hesitate because of a rumor started because of her? Her intentions were honestly pure, but the notion of others suffering was more bitter than Addy had at first realized that it would be. Fortunately, Delia and Josie were too at each other’s throat to even notice as Addy started to slip away… only for her to be confronted by another nurse almost right away. “Well, hello there!” a curvy brunette woman said with a slight tinge of an accent on her lips. “Did I hear those two correctly and that you’re the one who fed a Little from their own body to save their life?” Now, Addy was more than a little hesitant to confirm. “Yes…?” “Oh goodness me!” she exclaimed, on of her hands touching her chest. “I can’t believe it. You’re really here!” She nearly shot out her hand to shake. Addy shakily shook it back. “I can’t tell you what an honor it is to meet you!” she said excitedly, nearly seeming to vibrate from the energy buzzing inside of her.   “Well… thanks?” Addy felt a deep swell of hesitation meeting this new nurse. The woman seemed to notice. “Well, strike me down! What am I thinking acting all like we’re first cousins or somethin’! I’m just a complete stranger to you,” she noted quickly, looking sorry in the blink of an eye as she clutched her chest tight before giving Addy a little wave accompanied by a cutesy yet almost devilish smile. “Name’s Carol Ann. I’m from Georgia and… well, let me tell you! You’re quite the celebrity down there these days.” “I am?” Addy kept to herself and while she had gotten a little bit of a brush with celebrityhood from who her parents were, and then just now with Josie and Delia, this felt far more than any of that. “Most definitely, sugar!” She then plucked out her phone and showed several images to Addy before she could even tell her no. A fact that haunted Addy most sincerely with what she saw. “Aren’t they just grand?” Carol Ann showed off maybe a dozen Littles, and each was in various states of regression. That might have been a little odd considering Psyche’s low numbers in most facilities policy, but that wasn’t what struck Addy the most. What soon became clear to her was that each of them was breastfeeding from a nurse… sometimes even two paired up with one woman. “I… I…” Addy wasn’t sure what to say. She had done it to save Oliver, and considering the old technique and how well it worked, she couldn’t fault anyone else from trying it. ‘But more than 10?’ It sparked a warning flag in her brain. “I… I don’t understand. Are you all… trying more natural methods?” she asked, trying to not outwardly accuse Carol Ann of straight-up forcible regression on her account. “Oh!” she exclaimed before winking. “That’s right… natural methods.” She then giggled and swiped to show off her Littles even further, one photo even showing Carol Ann with her own Little. From her voice and her expression, it was clear she felt no shame… no remorse… no regret in the slightest with what she had done. “Ain’t they just beautiful?” “Yes…” Addy could feel the heat rising in her collar. “Very cute, but…” She hesitated to even ask, but she knew that if she didn’t, it would keep her up all night out of her own form of guilt. “Did they… need this? Like as a last resort like I did with Oliver?” Before she even said it out loud, Addy felt it sounded like a stupid question on one level. Georgia plus Littles hardly ever spelled out freedom or Little’s rights, despite the recent laws passed. Still, Addy also knew that she needed all the facts first and that sometimes, some facilities accepted groups in batches from a single place. For example, a facility up in Lygonia… what Littles always seemed to call Maine, brought in a whole group who had been zapped by a nuclear reactor melting down. It was tough and grueling, but each Little was saved. ‘Surely this had to be something like that… right?’ “Sure…” Carol Ann said more than a little suspiciously. “They all needed it so very badly.” She grinned widely, clearly not feeling any guilt over what she had done to them. “We all read about what you did in the monthly journal. We all felt inspired really! So, we all tried it and let me tell you… between the milk and the new TV programs we’ve got on the board advised us with… our Littles are just so easy to push around now. No fights. No tantrums… it’s bliss with all the babies we’ve got now. We’ve even got a little fashion show each week, and not one Little even remotely cares. They just want more milkies and TV time! Isn’t that precious?” Addy could see straight through her. She wasn’t even trying to hide her mixed words. Maybe one or two truly needed it, but the rest… the rest had been regressed in some kind of sick homage to Addy, following her example. She nearly wanted to puke on the spot… “You okay, hun?” Carol Ann asked, her nursing ways likely seeing the sickly green pallor coming over Addy right then. “You look like you could use some air.” “Yeah…” Addy confirmed, feeling faint all of a sudden. “I need to…” Her eyes shot to the nearest exit outside. “Just felt dizzy all of a sudden there…” “Well, then let me come with you.” Carol Ann might have been a Little abuser and a law breaker with what she was doing, but she was still a nurse and her desire to care for others was coming in strong. “Here… let me help…” “No!” Addy almost shouted before wincing and lowering her volume. “I mean… no thank you. I just… I need some air. That’s all.” She limped away, trying to breathe deeply through her nose to calm herself down. “Been running with the Littles all day. Might have just hit me. Nothing more…” “Oh… well, maybe we’ll catch up soon!” she called out as Addy slunk to the exit doors. “Would love to show you more photos. Can’t wait to show you feeding time or when one of them made messies all helplessly for the first time. You don’t want to miss it!” Addy only waved back at her, not bothering to look at the monster she had somehow created. The steady but gentle breeze outside instantly made her feel better… but her soul was a different story. Something she had never counted on in all her calculations with Oliver… she knew about the possible regression, the addiction, the attachment, the damage to potty training. It was all a calculated move to save his life, but now… now others in the country were following her ‘lead.’ Addy felt the pinpricks of all the new Littles now subject to her own inadvertent cruelty. She could practically see the longing and fading intelligence in the eyes of everyone she had now affected for the worse. ‘How many will go to bed tonight with empty minds and full diapers now because of what I did to save one life? Unintentional or not… I bear some of the same responsibility that Dr. Tracey does with her newly implemented TV time policy…’ Addy didn’t like that one bit. Fortunately, the party inside continued without her. Her Little hadn’t just gone through their choosing ceremony, so she wasn’t one of the main nurses on display today. That would be next month, and at this point, she wanted Oliver to come with her… but a month still felt like such a long way off and so much could happen until then. Just as Addy got her breath back and her feet under her again, she heard a familiar and relieving voice call out to her. “Addy? Are you okay?” Addy turned out on the patio overlooking much of the valley below Juventas headquarters and saw Cassie creeping up to her, caution and worry written all over her face. Addy smiled at her friend. “Cass… I’m fine, thank you. Just…” Cassie stepped closer and shook her head when something seemed to catch in Addy’s throat as she attempted to answer. “No need to tell me. I saw it go down. Those three…” Her face pinched with disdain. “They do keep the rumor mill going around here, don’t they… idiots…” Addy smiled and nodded. “I know I shouldn’t be surprised. It was just… that Carol Ann…” Memories of the pictures she had been showed flashed in her mind and she momentarily winced. “I just can’t believe she’s leading her facility down in Georgia in honor of me like that. I mean… I did it to save Oliver!” She looked at her friend with pleading eyes. “You believe me about that… don’t you, Cass?” Cassie stepped forward and took Addy’s hands as quickly as she could. “Of course I do,” she answered without hesitation as she stared back into her friend’s saddened eyes. “Don’t you pay any attention to her. Tomorrow, we can send an agent from LPS to look into them. The board will say she’s a rogue or something… cover its butt and all…” “Turn her in?” Addy didn’t like the honorifics that were being bestowed on her, but there was also a part of her that strongly felt like she was betraying the conglomeration of nurses or something of the sort. Carol Ann was wrong, no doubt, but it just didn’t feel right. “Yes,” Cassie replied without hesitation. “We can’t let her continue like that. She continues and who knows who many people will take up her cause. You just denounce her and she can turn right against you. Besides…” She grinned and took a step toward the railing, looking up at the night sky. “I can make the complaint. She never has to know it’s from you. After all…” She then turned back to Addy. “You never know when you could use someone like her or that facility to be on your side in the future.” “But your name would be attached.” The plan was tempting, but Addy also didn’t want to just throw her friend under the bus like that. “She could come after you.” “Nah!” Cassie said dismissively, waving her worries off completely even with a dash of a hand gesture. “I’m perfectly fine where I am. Now… ten years ago or more? Yeah… I would be running for the hills after I did the right thing. But with the Little’s Laws…” “Perfect protection against reprisals without consequence…” Addy could see her friend’s plan laid out before her and she now felt much better. “Exactly…” Cassie then shifted and crossed her arms before giving Addy the same sort of look a parent would give their child who just stole a cookie from the sacred jar above the refrigerator. “But that’s not what’s bothering you entirely… is it?” Addy sighed, knowing she had been caught and she hung her head down for a second. “No…” Cassie smirked. “That’s what I thought. It’s about Oliver, right?” Addy nodded. “I just… I still feel I did the wrong thing with him sometimes… especially when I hear others talk about it all. I know I saved his life, but…” She trailed off. But Cassie had no problem picking it back up again. “But you feel like crap about it still.” Addy sighed. “Yeah, but… am I just being stupid about all this, Cass?” Cassie let out a snort. “Nah. You just feel bad and honestly? That’s the part that makes you a good person in all this. You know you did right ultimately, but you also know you hurt Oliver as well. Worth it in the end, but you wouldn’t be the kind person I know you to be if you didn’t feel at least a little bad doing it.” “I suppose…” Addy of course knew she was right. She knew it in her bones and even her mom had said something similar in one of her guest lectures back when Addy first arrived at college and the many other times that she had heard them in the years following. “Guess I just need to be thankful that he’s okay, that he still likes me, and that he hasn’t once been truly mad at me.” “Yes…” Cassie suddenly felt very distant. “Yes, that’s amazing. It always could be worse…” This time, it was Addy’s turn to read between the lines. Of course, Cassie could have been referring to another Little… maybe even Robin, but given the odds, she doubted it heavily. “Cass? Is Xander okay? Did he do something… wrong? Or… more wrong?” Cassie sniffed and shook her head, but her shoulders now seemed like they were bearing the weight of the entire world down on them. “I just… I was hoping things would get better with him.” “You mean after Damien left last night?” He had chosen some woman, and no one seemed too upset about his departure… except Xander. “I thought I saw him last night. Almost looked… broken up, I guess? I didn’t think that was possible with him at this point to be honest.” Cassie sighed. “Neither did I. I know that’s a shit thing to say about your Little but… he’s just so different than so many of my others. Like Robin… she’s typical. Hurt and depressed when she came to me. And now? She loves to dance and steps on my feet as we dance slow in her room and she’s always humming this cute little tune from one of her favorite cartoons. Not even hypnosis if you can believe that!” Addy could feel her heart reaching out to her friend. She could feel that something was about to drop… something about Xander. “And Xander…?” she asked, almost not even wanting to know. “And Xander…” Cassie shook her head. “I saw him too last night. Seemed all moody. Barely spoke to me at all yesterday and then at night? I thought I saw him crying.” Addy had to try all her might not to keep her jaw from dropping. “You did?” “I did!” For any other Little, not a big deal. But for Xander… Xander the criminal… the drug kingpin… the former gangster. It was nearly unprecedented for such a big change. “I couldn’t believe it, but when I tried to help him… he pushed me away.” “And today?” Addy had to know if it was just a heat of the moment situation. “And today… I tried to help him again. He seemed to…” Cassie seemed to almost not believe it herself. “He almost seemed to be slipping. I swear I caught him watching a cartoon… even crack a smile during story time today. I nearly fell over when I saw that. But when I confronted him…” “He just pushed you away again…” Addy hoped she wasn’t right. But Cassie nodded. “Told me to drop dead.” “Yikes…” Addy wanted to be of some comfort, but she was coming up blank. She only had one go-to at this point. “Well… maybe he’ll go fast now. Maybe he’ll drop.” “Maybe…” Cassie shook her head, clearly still in disbelief. “I just… Xander… you know? Hard to believe that Damien of all people was his anchor. Sure, in the beginning they were close, but by the end… well you and I both know that Damien was anything but untouched by this place. Penny even said the Little was sucking his thumb the last week. But now? I guess he was just enough for Xander to hold onto.” “Maybe he felt superior?” Addy suggested. “Maybe… I just…” Cassie winced. “I want to think he’ll drop fast and be giggling by the end of next week, but…” She paused for a moment and then looked back at Addy with pure dread. “What if instead he just becomes more dangerous? Like a mad dog with nothing left to lose?” Addy didn’t like the sound of that, and she knew she was going to have to loop in Dr. Halgen and some of the other nurses with what was happening. He could be dangerous… a loose cannon ready to blow in all their faces and take everyone down with him. Sadly, it wasn’t unprecedented. And as much as that thought haunted Addy, remembering many of the times it happened before, she didn’t want to dwell on it tonight. Already, she could see the party was heating up and doubtless, her dad would be here soon and start looking for her. Hiding wasn’t in their nature, and besides… this party was for them. So, after a little encouragement, comfort, and some gentle coaxing, both rejoined the party. Curiously though, almost as if their arrival back had been expected, they were immediately greeted by two familiar faces from before. “Addy!” Elena shouted, her shiny name badge practically declaring her position as head of product testing. “I was looking for you earlier. Must have just missed you!” “Yeah… kinda had to slip away there for a moment.” Addy worriedly then scanned the room for any sign of Carol Ann, Delia, or Josie. “Don’t worry,” Josh reassured her after twiddling with an unruly strand of his own fiery red hair. “Those three that were hassling you earlier kind of got into it after you left. Apparently, they had a very different philosophy and couldn’t come to an agreement. If you can believe it, security had to split them up.” “Holy heck!” Cassie commented. “I guess they were a little more passionate than what I was seeing.” “You could say that again, Cass,” Elena said, smiling to her old friend from college. “But… did you ask her yet about we talked about earlier?” Cassie shook her head. “No… go a little too distracted by our own problems. Didn’t get a chance to…” “Well, there’s no time like the present, huh?” Josh quickly added before Addy could even ask what was going on. Now was her chance though. “What are you…? What’s going on?” Addy could smell a secret hiding under her nose when there was one. “What are you three up to?” Cassie sighed and for the first time, almost looked nervous as she looked as if she was actively avowing Addy’s glance. Elena merely looked at her feet… which left the apparent task up to Josh. “Ugh! You two owe me for this…” He pulled the group to the side of the party out of earshot of most and then looked at Addy after searching the room frantically for something. “I would love to politic and schmooze you all night, Ads, but… time is short. The board is everywhere… at least the members against us.” “Against? Addy questioned. “Us? Shit! Just tell me this straight.” Josh reluctantly nodded. “Sorry. Just… the board is getting more regressive in their policies. I’m sure you’ve noticed…” Addy’s silence seemed all the evidence he needed to here. “Right, well… we’ve seen it too. We’re on the board and votes are getting closer than ever. And this Dr. Tracey… her policies should have never been passed.” “We’re agreed on that,” Addy snaped. “But what’s this whole big secret you three have got going?” “Well…” Josh was beating around the bush in a big, awful, and annoying way. “We know you’ve go the inside scoop. You’re connected with your dad, Dr. Halgen, and we’re almost positive you have another lead… right?” Addy sighed. She had been in correspondence with Elena and Josh after the last party and various board decisions. Her dad was complicated but the two seemed more pliable and passionate about Little’s rights. And Cassie… she was one of the few people on the Psyche facility that Addy had been trusting nearly completely lately. “Yes,” she confirmed, praying she was making the right decision in trusting these people. “And I have an insider with Dr. Tracey.” The number of questions thrown to her nearly made her want to flee and never doing this crud again… no matter the cause. But Addy held her ground and yelled. “Shut it!” Everyone quieted around her. “Damn, that wasn’t stealthy!” she complained. “You people… damn. But yes. I have a contact. And no… I won’t tell you their name.” It almost felt funny protecting Penny, but Addy knew that she was their eyes and ears into all this and she couldn’t be sacrificed, accidentally or otherwise in all this. She was a tool and needed to be wielded properly in the fight. “Fine… keep your secrets. In this business, we get it. But…” Elena hesitated. “Please tell us what you discover. With your contact. Right now, Josh and I feel we’re on the outs within the board. We’re the youngest and most pro Little. Your dad is playing politics wisely, but that doesn’t always mean a guaranteed vote. And your brother… we’re not sure what’s going on with him. So, if we want Juventas to be anything more than a place where Littles go to get their minds scrubbed clean, we need an ace up our sleeve as well… at least to push the board in our favor when we need.” Addy could sense her guilt, fragility, and hesitation about all of this. While she always wanted to put Juventas on a high pedestal as a great company her parents founded, especially these days, she knew it was far from perfect. What’s more, it was dangerous. So, a little exercised caution was disheartening but also good to see. Juventas had the power and influence and wealth to make nearly anything that they wanted to happen. It was quite spectacular to see… if not downright scary as well. If Elena and Josh were wary and wearing their armor 24/7, they might just make it through all this. Still, with the company’s reputation, Addy knew that to move the board all in their favor, they needed help and she knew she needed a way onto that board in some capacity. Sure, she could take her dad’s offer and join herself… but given todays events, she felt she didn’t need to bathe in the glow of the spotlight, for better or worse. Giving them a little information could give cement both of them as allies as well in this fight everyone seemed to know was coming. “Very well… I’ll loop you all in. Just be warned… I have my own agenda right now and I’m not going to deviate from it, but…” Addy looked around to make sure no one was snooping. “I’ll give you a nugget from this morning.” The trio leaned in. Addy took a breath and recalled what Penny had told her. “Juventas is going to be pushing their new drug in the next few weeks. Before the end of the month. I’m still trying to determine where it beta tested, but in one of the states south of Tanassum.” “Shit.” Elena’s tiny notion of release was well felt by the others more silently. A new drug paired with TV time would be a major blow to all Littles. It wasn’t much intel, but it was enough to get the ball rolling and give everyone against them a big headache if it was exposed. The trio seemed to ponder the deal on the table with the intel they had just received for a moment, but after a quick head nod amongst them, they turned back to Addy and Josh spoke up first. “We accept. Now though… blasted concerning and we need to know more, but I think us working together will help us both out in the long run. And for our end?” Josh looked around the party for a moment and then leaned in close. “Don’t tell anyone else this… not even your dad for the moment, but the board is planning on partnering with Diamond Technologies. Some big project that needs both mechanical parts and a working drug. Sounds big and more importantly, devastating to any Littles.” After that, the group more or less seemed exhausted from the bad news that had just been dropped on all of them. Not only that, but most of the group also now seemed too paranoid to continue talking about anything… especially once most of the old guard of the board waltzed in. Seeing them, Addy immediately felt her heart rate skyrocket. Back-end conversations and conspiracies in trying to salvage both Psyche and Juventas, and not even to mention their more recent shady underhanded dealings with the likes of Dr. Tracey… they nearly seemed to carry a black pallor of dread with them wherever they walked. She started to backtrack, hoping to find something to brace against without seeming too obvious. No doubt, with their reputation, they had spies looking around the room and searching for any whisper of disloyalty. After the incident in Losantiville, someone had turned evidence against them from within apparently and the elder members of the board had never seemingly recovered afterward. Finally clutching a column, Addy watched the board, including her father, stalk in. He had developed his role well over the years, always the political maneuver when he needed to. A fast talker and sharp wit to cover up when he couldn’t otherwise, he could vote his conscience and yet still stay connected enough to play golf with them every other weekend. Addy also suspected her dad had something on them and it was the proverbial scythe above everyone’s heads that didn’t dare drop from going after him first. Addy couldn’t prove it, but she was beginning to wonder if something more was happening with him. Still, she could feel the same faintness that she did before. Between the assaults with the three other nurses, the ominous warnings about Xander, and now the connection between Juventas and Diamond Technologies, she nearly felt seasick from everything going on. ‘I… I shouldn’t have come. I should have stayed with Oliver. He could need me and no one would have batted an eye if I wasn’t here and…’ “Take a few breaths, miss,” a voice came down from below. Addy realized she had closed her eyes, and when she opened them, she looked to where the voice had come from… and spotted a Little. In fact, it was the same Little from the last ball she had attended that directed her to her dad to quickly leave and check in on Oliver back at the facility. “You!” “Shhh!” he quickly hushed her. “Not so loud. Eyes and ears everywhere, miss.” Addy scanned the room and saw several scanning cameras, and while she couldn’t see the microphones, she knew they were still there. So, she nodded and made a mental note to stay quiet. “Who… who are you?” The Little smirked. “A friend for now. I work with others here. There’s a movement. Something bad is coming and we all need you to take a breath and go easy here. Confront the board if you will, but don’t panic. It might even be interesting to see their reaction if you do. Might shake things up. Could be useful for later, but… definitely don’t run now. Keep it together… just for a little longer.” Addy looked up at the board. “Confront the board? What do you mean by…?” She looked back down at the Little… and he was gone. Frantically, she searched around… but he was nowhere to be seen. ‘What the…?’ Addy was more than a little confused. For the second time, the same Little had come into her life, instructed her on something, and then completely vanished. He was obviously someone on her side, his interests seemingly aligning with hers now twice… but it left the same question still of who he even was. Normally, Addy was smart enough not to take unsolicited advice from people she didn’t know… but with all her knowledge, she was itching to confront the board. Turns out, she didn’t need to find them. “Addy!” Mr. Bouras called out to her, his white hair nearly bouncing like little springs on the top of his head. “So good of you to make it tonight!” Addy stared back at the man she had known for like the longest at this point. A fast friend of her parents, she had seen him far more than their original partner, the now president, Mr. Drakos. “It’s good to see you. I…” She looked around and quickly noticed her dad was away and schmoozing other people right then. “How have you been, sir? The VP position still working for you I take it?” He smiled, his deep etched wrinkles stretching tautly over his face. “Why yes, as a matter of fact. Could hardly be better these days. You’ve seen Dr. Tracey’s new program I take it? Just marvelous, huh?” “For some, I suppose…” Addy worded carefully. “Personally… I prefer my Littles with a pulse.” His smile dropped a little. “Ah, I might have guessed. Your mother’s daughter with that mind of yours. Quick and likely a large heart to match her own. Pity she didn’t stay on the board like your dad. A voting member, but not active. She could have done so much more…” Addy knew he was trying to get under her skin by now. Her mom was always a trigger point for her dad, brother, or her since her early death. Still, Addy merely cracked her knuckles and smiled back. “Yes. Who knows what she could have done? Maybe she’d be VP these days… don’t you think?” Now, she was lightly attacking his position, something he seemed to hold in higher esteem than most anything else in his life… except maybe the approval of Mr. Drakos and money. “Yes… yes maybe. But still… pity you don’t approve of her policies…” Addy had seemingly won that match and Mr. Bouras was switching back to something more comfortable apparently. “Seems like you might have a foot stuck in the past.” “Well, what would you expect, George?” Mr. Allen asked, nearly sneaking and snaking up skeletally from almost out of nowhere. “The daughter of John and Celia… she was bound to be a softie.” Mr. Bouras cracked another smile, his face seeming ready to stretch apart any second now. “Yes… I should have known. But shame… the old order getting left behind…” Addy didn’t like the sound of that. “New Little Laws don’t have you all worried?” she asked, her skepticism as to how some of their new protocols were legal still bugging her. “I’m surprised LPS hasn’t drove into that little lab of yours, Mr. Allen.” This time, it was his turn to grin, his sallow skin stretching tightly over his bones like webbing or a sodden canvas between boards. “All perfectly legal. They sign on the dotted line. What’s the phrase again?” He stroked his bony chin. “Ah yes… agree to any and all methods to heal them. So broad… so tempting for our shareholders as to what that can me. Our lawyers had fun with that one…” Addy fumed. She hated the Psyche contract and its wording. It was broad, and worse, it allowed Psyche to do any and all to them as stated. Yes, it allowed her to breastfeed Oliver and save his life… but it was more used for evil amongst the Bigs than good. “And you should know…” Mr. Bouras pushed forward, his eyes looking at Addy like a hungry lion to a gazelle. “Your Little… Oliver, was it? Dying… what a shame. Though… I heard you did something that… also stretched the boundaries. Would be a shame if someone was to stop you now because of a little old contract, right?” Addy knew he was playing with her now. Her mind working fast, the three nurses she had seen earlier, though forceful against her, two had been on her side. Carol Ann wasn’t great, but support from other nurses around the country meant pull in the company. She had a voice and a willing audience, for better or worse. And for a board member that meant one thing: power. Simply put, and as much as Addy didn’t want to admit it to herself, but from their perspective, it meant she was a threat. If she was on the board, it was such an outlandish idea… but she could swing her weight around. Mr. Bouras knew it… Mr. Allen knew it… they were like two birds of prey circling her… trying to find her weakness. And unfortunately, Oliver was it. And Addy knew it. They had just threatened Oliver. One slip of the contract and he would be ripped away from her like it was nothing. A longshot maybe with her dad on the board… but possible. Her hand cracked more under its own weight of pressure as she squeezed tightly. “You listen here… you go near him at all, and I’ll…” “And there you are!” a cheery and familiar voice called out to Addy before a hand nearly snapped onto her shoulder. Leaning forward, it was perfectly clear that Cassie was intervening. “I think your dad wants to talk to you about something.” Cassie then looked back at the other two board members. “Mind if I steal her away?” “Well, I… I…” Mr. Bouras bumbled a little, seemingly unarmed from Cassie’s abruptness and forceful yet gentle and kind smile. “I… we were just…” “Excellent!” Cassie exclaimed, quickly pulling Addy away before another word could be uttered. Addy could hear the two muttering to themselves, and she didn’t dare look back, but she could have bet anything that both were steaming now. “Hold crud, Ads!” Cassie finally confronted her; her arm still wrapped around Addy as she used her slight height advantage over her friend. “You trying to get yourself erased or kidnapped tonight? You know what they say about Mr. Allen’s little inconveniences…” Addy swallowed hard and knew just how many problems his R&D department had ‘taken care of’ over the years. ‘Volunteers’ all officially but how they started might not always have been so virtuous or noble… or even above board. Finally dropping down one hallway, Addy could quickly see her dad standing there and immediately looked both pissed and relieved when he saw his daughter. He let out a huge breath of air. “You know… if you want to give me a heart attack, feed me more beer and pizza and chicken wigs, Addy. Don’t just confront two of the most powerful men in there and throw little facts and snide comments at them!” “I… I’m sorry, dad,” Addy choked out, with Oliver being threatened, the full weight of their power and morally bankrupt ways now on display. “I just… everything that’s been happening…” Her dad sighed and nodded, his face’s tension easing up a little. “I know, pumpkin… I know. Just… next time, bring in some backup. You need someone and for the record, I saw you making friends tonight…” He turned to Cassie. “Speaking of which… thank you, Cassie. You’ve been a big help tonight to me and my daughter.” Cassie nodded and smiled. “It’s no problem, Mr. Pepperidge. I saw a friend in need and I intervened. Besides… I couldn’t just let her take a swing at those two. I mean… what would happen to Oliver then?” Addy winced at the notion and shied even further when her dad looked at her with a raised eyebrow. “Took a swing at them?” he asked, a little amused yet more than a little concerned. “I…” Addy wasn’t really sure what she was going to do. She just didn’t like them threatening Oliver. “They threatened Oliver, dad…” “Oh…” He sighed and thrust his hands in his pockets. “Seems like some things are shifting around here, not least of all… you, pumpkin.” “Me?” Addy knew that she was feeling different, but not so different as to spark a note from her dad. “You…” Her dad then smiled, almost looking proud. “I overheard you tonight. Popped a bug on Bouras’ shoulder. Always could get lucky with what that shit says, but… I did hear what you had to say. And… you were playing the game tonight. If you were only on the board… you would have the power to back up your words against them…” Addy had never really thought about it that way before. Yes, she knew a board member was a powerful tool on the proverbial chessboard, but only now, was she seeing how much weight each person could throw around. Mr. Bouras dictated policy on a national, even worldwide scale. Mr. Allen was powerful and sly enough to disappear all his enemies without a trace. Evil yes, but most definitely powerful as well. “I… I never really thought about it that way. I guess…” She sighed and looked at the floor. “I just don’t like what’s happening. Something needs to change… something needs to be done. I just… I don’t know about a board seat of my own. I don’t think I could leave Psyche like that…” Cassie took her friend’s hands and smiled gently at her. Her dad smiled and patted her on the shoulder. “I’m proud of you kiddo for standing up for Oliver. It might have been foolish what you were about to do, but I can’t say that I wouldn’t have done the same if they had threatened you or your brother…” He smirked once more and then turned away for a moment, before taking a breath and looking back at Cassie and Addy. “There’s nothing more than I would want than for you to come on the board with your brother and I. But tonight? Tonight was nothing compared to the dodging and debating you would have to do if you came on board. You would have the power to dictate whole swathes of policy… but you would also have the pressure that came with it also.” Right before Addy could even reply, her dad held his hand up. “No answer tonight. We’ve had enough excitement today. However…” Her dad then lowered his hand into his pocket and pulled out a single key. Only about as long as the width of his palm, it still stood out as something old and yet new with a few circuits seemingly embedded in its spine. “I want you to have this…” Addy eyed the key for a moment but then reached out to the object offered. “What… what is it?” she asked at last after looking at the key from all angles under the dim hallway lighting. Her dad smirked. “All in good time. I was hoping to do this differently, but for now… you keep that key on you at all times. It might be more of use in the future, but today, just think of it as a gift from father to daughter.” Addy examined the key again, fascinating and yet so confused about what was happening. Clearly it meant something, but based on Cassie’s expression, she didn’t have a clue as to what either. It was a mystery… one that might never be solved from what her dad was saying, but regardless, she still trusted him. So, without hesitation, she quickly popped it securely inside her purse. Not seeming to want to hover on anything for too long, her dad shook his head. “Now… enough of that.” He then smiled and checked his watch. “Yeah… party’s winding down soon. You two should go back to the facility and stay there after all this. Take the time… hold your Littles close tonight…” He then looked out at the sky, the stars now covered up by large clouds with a few even lighting up with sparks of lightning in the distance. “Something tells me that a storm is coming and that moments of calm like these might not happen too much more…” Addy looked out and saw the same storm. She could still feel the panic she had felt after talking to Mr. Bouras and Mr. Allen and could feel the extra weight of the key in her purse now. Things were moving into place… that was for sure. Something was about to happen, she could feel that deep down if nothing else, but Addy still didn’t know what exactly. All she did know now was that she had to prepare for whatever it was when it finally happened.

Yikes! Feel better my friend!

You probably thought I had given up on this story. Not quite. I have at least one more chapter, and this one is pretty hot! ------------------------------------------------------------------------ The next day unfolded with a sense of calm routine, but beneath that calmness, Dana had plans to make things just a little more complicated, a little more immersive. She wanted both Patty and her baby husband—dressed as a thickly padded baby girl—to understand that this nursery life wasn’t just a game. It was a structure, a discipline, and, in its own way, a family. The day began with dressing. Dana had already laid out the outfits the night before. For Patty, there was a fresh pastel romper, its fabric printed with dancing lambs and trimmed with lace around the collar. Alongside it sat a bonnet and a pair of soft booties with little rattles stitched in. For Dana’s husband, the baby girl of the house, there was no choice at all. He had a frilly dress that buttoned down the back, with puffed sleeves and a hem so short it revealed the bulk of his double-thick diapers no matter how much he tugged at it. Dana hummed softly as she dressed them both, patting each diaper, inspecting with sharp eyes, and making sure every strap, button, and ribbon was secured exactly to her standards. Once dressed, they were ushered together into the play area. The morning began with a session on the mat. Dana spread out toys: stacking rings, oversized plush animals, teething rattles. Patty had grown increasingly pliant, less embarrassed to crawl on all fours in her baby outfit, but today Dana gave her a little push further. “Baby girls don’t get to choose their toys,” she said firmly, placing a rattle in Patty’s mittened hand and guiding it to her mouth. “That’s it. Shake it for Mommy.” Patty obeyed, cheeks flushing as the sound jingled in the quiet room. Dana’s husband, already well broken in, rocked on his padded bottom and clapped for her, as though truly believing in the game. Dana allowed it, even encouraged it—her little husband was showing Patty the example of obedience she wanted. By mid-morning, Dana added something new: shared discipline. She had them both attempt simple coloring exercises on the floor, blunt crayons and thick coloring books of cartoon animals. Of course, mittens made it clumsy. Predictably, her baby husband scrawled outside the lines, while Patty fumbled with every stroke. Dana used it as an opportunity. “You see how messy you both are? Babies need correction.” She sat on a chair, pulled each of them over her lap in turn, and administered measured spankings to their diapered bottoms. The sound was muffled but unmistakable, the sting undeniable even through layers of padding. She alternated between them, making Patty watch as her husband was punished, then making him watch as Patty squirmed. The lesson wasn’t just about obedience—it was about shared shame, shared babyhood. When the spanking was finished, Dana did not allow them to sulk. Instead, she placed both babies in the playpen together, side by side, and set a timer. “Quiet time,” she announced. “No fussing. No pouting. Babies sit quietly until Mommy says otherwise.” The timer ticked on, and Patty felt herself sinking deeper into the role. Every day that passed, her sense of adult self seemed to blur at the edges. Her diaper was warm now, used unconsciously during playtime. Dana checked both of them when the timer dinged, tsking softly as she squeezed and prodded. “Two wet babies. Just as I expected.” Changing time became a ritual again, but today Dana decided to make it ceremonial. She strapped Patty on the padded table first, undressing her slowly, speaking in a cooing tone that contrasted with the firm buckles holding her in place. “Mommy takes care of everything, sweet girl. You don’t need to think. You don’t need to worry. Just lie back and let it happen.” Patty whimpered softly as the cold wipes passed between her thighs, as the thick powder clouded around her, and as the fresh diaper was pulled tight. Dana dressed her again in the lamb-print romper, retying the bonnet, sealing her fate as baby for the day. Then it was her husband’s turn. Patty, forced to watch, saw Dana go through the same steps, but with even more clinical precision. Her husband’s diaper was far heavier, his dress lifted high to expose the swollen padding, his legs pushed apart as Dana worked. By the time he was re-diapered, his humiliation was complete, and yet he looked only relieved, almost grateful. Patty couldn’t help but notice how natural it seemed for him now, how permanent. The doorbell chimed, its cheerful sound carrying through the nursery. Patty, sitting cross-legged in the oversized playpen beside Dana’s husband, stiffened instantly. Her pacifier bobbed nervously as she exchanged wide-eyed glances with her “sister.” Dana, unfazed, brushed her hands on her apron and strode to the front door. “Now remember, girls,” she called back over her shoulder, “you’re babies. Babies don’t worry about visitors—babies are just themselves.” The door opened, and in stepped "Auntie Carol". She was a woman in her early fifties, sturdy and practical, with kind eyes that nevertheless twinkled with mischief as she stepped inside. “Well, well,” she said with a chuckle, slipping off her shoes. “So these are your famous little ones I’ve heard so much about.” Dana beamed, ushering her into the living room. In the center, the giant playpen dominated the space—five-foot sides enclosing a padded floor littered with rattles, stacking rings, and soft plush toys. Inside, the two “babies” sat in their pastel dresses, thick diapers bulging obviously beneath layers of lace and ruffles. “This is Patty,” Dana said proudly, resting a hand on her shoulder through the playpen bars. “She’s still adjusting, but she’s learning quickly.” Her hand shifted to stroke the head of her husband, who was drooling happily around his pacifier. “And of course, you already know my little one.” Auntie Carol leaned down, peering through the mesh. “Oh my goodness,” she said softly, shaking her head in amazement. “You weren’t exaggerating at all. They really are just… babies.” Patty’s cheeks burned hot, and she ducked her head, trying to hide behind her bonnet brim. Her husband babbled cheerfully, waving a rattle as if to prove Auntie’s observation. Dana immediately noticed Patty’s retreat. Her smile sharpened just slightly. “Patty. Up. To the side. Now.” Patty froze. “Don’t make Mommy ask twice,” Dana warned. Hesitantly, Patty crawled to the edge of the playpen where Dana had opened the gate. She shuffled out, mittened hands trembling, pacifier bobbing faster as Dana guided her to the couch where Auntie Carol had seated herself. “Carol,” Dana said calmly, “sometimes shyness tries to creep in. But we don’t allow big-girl shyness in babies, do we?” Carol smiled knowingly. “Of course not.” Dana tugged Patty across her lap in one swift motion, lifting her dress to expose the bulky diaper beneath. Patty squirmed, muffled whimpers escaping around the pacifier, but Dana pinned her easily. The spanking was firm and deliberate—sharp smacks delivered to the padded bottom, each landing with a loud crinkle and muffled thud. Patty kicked helplessly, face burning hotter with every swat. “Babies don’t hide,” Dana scolded between spanks. “Babies are proud to be shown off. Mommy wants you to feel that every time you think about lowering your eyes.” When she was satisfied, Dana flipped Patty upright, settling her onto her lap. She kissed her damp cheek, rocking her gently. “All better now, sweetheart. No more shyness.” Patty sniffled, pacifier still bobbing, but she nodded meekly. Auntie Carol chuckled, clearly impressed. “You’ve got her well in hand. The discipline mixed with the cuddling—it’s remarkable.” “Consistency,” Dana replied smoothly, stroking Patty’s back. “They both need to feel structure as much as they need love.” To demonstrate further, Dana fetched two bottles from the warmer. She handed one to Carol, her eyes twinkling. “Would you like to feed her?” Carol’s brows rose. “Really? I’d be honored.” Dana guided Patty onto the floor, arranging her on a soft blanket with her head resting on Auntie Carol’s lap. Patty squirmed at the intimate position, but Dana pressed her pacifier-free mouth gently open. “There,” Dana said encouragingly. “Wide for Auntie.” Carol slipped the rubber nipple between her lips, tilting the bottle carefully. Warm formula filled Patty’s mouth, and instinct took over—she suckled, slow at first, then more steadily. “Oh my goodness,” Carol murmured, her expression softening. “She really does just drink like a baby.” “She *is* a baby,” Dana corrected firmly, smiling as she settled beside them with her husband across her lap. She guided his bottle into place, and soon both “girls” were nursing contentedly side by side, one from Mommy and one from Auntie. The room filled with the sound of gentle sucking, the soft rustle of diapers, and the occasional coo of encouragement. Carol stroked Patty’s hair with one hand while holding the bottle with the other, clearly moved by the simplicity of the act. When both bottles were drained, Dana burped her husband against her shoulder, while Carol—following Dana’s demonstration—patted Patty’s back until a small, embarrassed belch escaped. Both women laughed softly, praising their charges. “See?” Dana said proudly. “They thrive under care, attention, and discipline. It’s a full-time responsibility, but the reward is this—peaceful, happy babies.” Carol nodded, smoothing Patty’s bonnet. “I admit, I wasn’t sure what to expect… but now, I can see it. They’re truly content.” Patty, still warm from the spanking, full from the bottle, and dizzy from the praise, lay limply across Auntie’s lap, her pacifier tucked back into her mouth. Shyness had no room left in her. Only submission. And Dana, watching both of her babies bask in attention, felt a deep swell of satisfaction. This was exactly how it should be—her nursery, her rules, her babies, admired and adored by others. When the bottles were drained and both babies pacified with contented sucking, Dana rose and smoothed her skirt. “Come on, Carol. You should see the nursery—it’s the heart of the home.” She helped Patty to her feet, leading her by the hand like a toddler while her husband toddled behind, guided by a firm hand on his bottom. The thick bulk of his diaper forced him into a waddle, each step punctuated by a faint crinkle. Carol followed, eyes wide as Dana pushed open the nursery door. The room was a dream—or a nightmare, depending on perspective. Powder-blue walls with painted clouds and pastel rainbows. A towering white crib with high bars, large enough to hold either of the oversized “infants.” A changing table fully stocked with powder, wipes, lotion, and stacks of thick disposables. The shelves overflowed with pacifiers, bottles, rattles, teething rings, and stacks of frilly clothes. A colorful play mat stretched across one corner, scattered with building blocks and plush animals. “Oh, Dana…” Carol breathed, stepping inside slowly. “It’s… it’s breathtaking. Like walking into a daycare, but scaled for… them.” Dana’s chest swelled with pride. “Thank you. Every detail matters. Babies thrive when they’re surrounded by reminders of who they are.” Patty shifted uneasily at Carol’s awed gaze, trying to keep close to Dana’s skirts. Her husband plopped onto the floor without hesitation, immediately grabbing a squeaky toy and chewing on the rubber end. Carol chuckled softly. “Quite a contrast between the two of them, isn’t it?” Dana nodded. “He’s been mine from the start, so the conditioning is deeper. Patty still needs a firmer hand.” As if on cue, Patty whined softly, tugging at Dana’s hand in a subtle plea not to be displayed further. Dana’s response was swift. “Patty, naughty babies who whine need correction.” She pulled her over to the changing table and patted the top. “Up.” Patty hesitated, cheeks blazing, but Dana’s arched brow brooked no refusal. She scrambled onto the padded surface, legs dangling. Carol lingered nearby, fascinated. “Do you mind if I watch?” “Not at all,” Dana said warmly. “In fact—why don’t you help?” Carol blinked. “Help?” “Yes,” Dana said, already lifting Patty’s dress. “Babies need regular changes. Patty’s due. Hand me the wipes and powder, please.” Carol obeyed, retrieving the items from the shelf. Her hands trembled slightly, but she passed them with care. Dana unpinned Patty’s mittens, slipping them off just long enough to undo the tapes on her diaper. The heavy garment sagged open, releasing a faint but unmistakable odor. Patty whimpered, trying to hide her face in her bonnet. Carol’s eyebrows rose. “Oh my… she really does…” “She really does,” Dana confirmed briskly, wiping Patty clean with practiced efficiency. “Big-girl pride isn’t allowed here. Babies use their diapers, and Mommies keep them fresh.” She set the used diaper aside, then motioned to Carol. “Powder, please. Just a light dusting.” Carol carefully sprinkled the powder over Patty’s bottom, her hand surprisingly gentle. “There we go, sweetheart,” she murmured, surprising herself with the maternal lilt in her voice. Dana smiled. “Perfect. Now help me with the tapes.” Together, they secured Patty into a fresh, thick disposable, the tapes snug and firm. The loud crinkle echoed in the small room. Patty lay limp and crimson-faced, overwhelmed by humiliation. Auntie Carol had *helped* change her. She could never pretend she wasn’t just a baby again. Dana kissed Patty’s forehead, pulling her pacifier back into place. “There, snug and secure.” She looked at Carol. “Well done. You’ve officially had your first nursery duty.” Carol laughed, a little breathless. “I can’t believe I just did that. But… it felt so natural. Almost… right.” “Exactly,” Dana said softly. “People think discipline and diapers are strange. But when you see the peace it brings… it makes sense.” They rejoined her husband on the play mat, where he babbled cheerfully around his pacifier, stacking blocks in clumsy towers. Patty crawled beside him, her fresh diaper rustling loudly with every move. Carol lowered herself to the floor, picking up a plush bear. She dangled it teasingly in front of Patty, who, despite herself, reached out with mittened hands and squeaked in delight when Carol made the bear “kiss” her nose. The room filled with gentle laughter, coos, and the rustling of toys. For a moment, the world outside vanished—there was only Mommy, Auntie, and the two oversized babies being fussed over as if they were truly no more than toddlers. When at last Carol rose to leave, she hugged Dana tightly at the door. “I don’t know how you do it, but… they’re precious. Truly. And if you ever need another pair of hands…” Dana’s eyes sparkled. “I’ll know just who to call.” Patty, watching from behind the playpen bars with her husband, knew what that meant. Auntie Carol wasn’t just a visitor anymore. She was part of their baby world now—another pair of loving, watchful eyes who could spank, feed, and change her just as easily as Mommy. The room had settled into a quiet rhythm. Patty, still wobbly in her fresh diaper, sat cross-legged on the play mat beside Dana's baby husband, who was babbling happily around his pacifier, clutching a plush duck. Auntie Carol remained near the doorway, watching in wide-eyed fascination. Dana smiled at the scene, a slow, deliberate grin that carried authority. "Don't go yet," Dana said to Carol. "There's one more thing you should see." Dana moved to stand beside Patty. “Patty,” Dana said softly, patting her shoulder, “I think it’s time you learn something very important about Mommy’s rules. Sometimes, babies… help Mommy teach other babies how to fully surrender.” Patty blinked behind her pacifier, unsure what Dana meant. Dana reached behind her, producing the strap-on harness, it's dildo attachment protruding forcefully. Her husband babbled, hands clutching at his pacifier. Carol just stood there with stunned look on her face, unsure of what she was about to witness. “You’ll be gentle,” Dana said, kneeling behind her. “But it’s time for you to practice being Mommy’s little helper. Come along.” Patty’s cheeks flushed crimson, her small hands trembling. Dana took her baby husband's hands and directed him toward the changing table.  She helped him up onto the table and wen through the process of attaching his hands and feet to the built-in restraints. She patted his padded butt and he lifted it up without hesitation. She positioned the strap-on harness and cinched it around his triple-diapered crotch.  Lastly, she brought up the side straps of the table, attached them to the rings of the harness sides and pulled the straps tight.   Dana guided Patty to stand next to the table.  Dana squirted lube onto her hand. She guided her hand up and down the long shaft, until it was glistening. Dana stood behind Patty and removed Patty's diaper. With a light spank to Patty's butt, she encouraged her to climb on to the table. Auntie Carol stepped closer to see more clearly. “Oh… I… I didn’t realize…” she whispered, eyes wide. Dana’s tone was soft, firm. “Watch, Carol. Watch carefully. This is how babies fully submit. They don’t resist. They participate. And sometimes, they learn from each other.” Patty bit her lip, her mittened hands fumbling. Dana's baby husband babbled, kicking slightly, but didn’t resist—he had been trained to remain passive, to accept, to obey. “Now,” Dana instructed, “Patty, go slowly. Remember, she’s Mommy’s baby. Gentle. Keep her safe.” Patty scooted forward on her knees as Dana guided her movements, positioning her atop her husband and the glistening dildo.  Her husband babbled incoherently. Auntie Carol’s eyes followed every movement, initially frozen in shock. Dana turned to speak to her. “It’s okay. Watch her learning. She’s participating, submitting, and practicing her role in this household. Babies obey. Babies help. Babies accept.” Gradually, Auntie’s fascination shifted into involvement. “Dana… may I help? May I…?” Dana’s smile was approving. “Yes, Carol. Come closer. Guide her. Encourage her. Make sure she is careful. Show her how to respect her little sister—her baby sister, her responsibility.” Carol moved next to the table to assist, placing a gentle hand on Patty’s waist, steadying her. Patty’s body stiffened initially, then she began to move under Carol’s careful guidance. She lowered herself on the shaft slowly, but surely, drawing her breath in suddenly as she fully embraced it. Her motion was slow, deliberate, a mixture of control, eroticized submission, and ritualized practice. Dana's baby husband babbled and squirmed lightly but accepted every movement with passive, babyish compliance. Dana observed, her eyes calm and commanding. “See, Carol? Babies submit in every way Mommy deems necessary. They obey, they serve, and they nurse. Everything is part of the same routine—the same obedience. Every act of submission strengthens their place as Mommy’s little girls.” Then Dana took one of Patty's mittened hands and pulled it forward, to the corner of the table. Before Patty could understand what was happening, Dana produced another strap and had it wrapped around Patty's wrist. While Patty stared in shock, Dana did the same thing with Patty's other wrist. Patty was now bound to the table, leaning forward over Dana's baby husband, but still impaled on the strap-on dildo. Dana moved to beside Patty and pushed slowly on her butt to move her back down on the shaft. "There you go baby girl. No more choices. Now show Mommy you can be a good girl." "Would you like to help?" Dana asked as she turned to Carol. Carol's face was flush from excitement. She couldn't even open her mouth, she just nodded. Dana took Carol's hands and positioned them on Patty's hips.  "Show my baby girl how to teach her baby sister submission," Dana whispered into Carol's ear. Carol began to gently move Patty's hips up and down in an almost gyrating motion. Patty responded hesitantly at first. "Come on, baby girl, you can do it," Carol urged. "Show Auntie Carol." Carol began to move her hands more forcefully. Patty responded more quickly now, beginning to move her hips on her own, breathing more heavily, making low noises as her passion built up. "That's it, baby girl, that's it. Show Auntie Carol what you can do," Carol encouraged. Then she took one hand and gave Patty a slap on her behind. "Faster! Harder!" Carol said more forcefully. "Ohh!" exclaimed Patty. Carol slapped her behind again. "Harder I said, harder!" Carol barked, with a fire in her eyes. Patty responded by moving her hips more forcefully, quickening her pace. She was building up momentum. She started to moan more, and more loudly. "Ohh! Ohh!" She bit her lip. She tried to lift her hands, only to be reminded of her restraints. She started to lift and grind faster and faster. Carol gave one more slap on Patty's behind and she cried out, her body stiffening, then shuddering in orgasmic ecstasy, again and again. Finally she bent over, spent, nearly collapsing on top of Dana's baby husband. "Good girl," Carol cooed as she gently caressed Patty's behind. "Such a good baby girl." Finally, Dana raised a hand. “That’s enough for today.” She removed the wrist restraints and helped Patty dismount carefully.  All the while, her husband, babbled happily, pacifier bobbing. Patty collapsed onto her knees, flushed and trembling, but Dana immediately pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. “Good girl. You obeyed. You participated. You learned. That is what matters.” Auntie Carol stepped back, breathing lightly, eyes wide with awe. “I… I never imagined… it’s… it’s incredible how completely they trust you… and each other.” Dana smiled, gathering both babies into a gentle cuddle. “Trust, obedience, and submission. That’s the essence of babyhood here. Every act—discipline, care, feeding—reinforces it. And sometimes, learning comes in unusual ways.” She eased Patty to the floor and re-diapered her. Then she got up and removed her baby husband's restraints. She helped him off the table onto the floor. Dana moved to crib along the wall. She motioned for both babies to join her.  They each crawled over and up into the crib.  Patty rested her head against Dana’s chest, panting slightly, her diaper crinkling warmly. Her husband nestled beside them, soft and drooly, completely at peace. Auntie Carol lingered for a moment longer, watching, then nodded with a small, amazed smile. “I think I understand now… fully.” Dana’s eyes twinkled. “Good. That’s the lesson, Carol. The babies submit, the babies learn, and everyone thrives in their roles.” Patty’s cheeks were still flushed from the intense experience, her breath uneven around the pacifier. Her husband, ever the obedient baby, nestled against Dana’s side, babbling softly while clutching a plush duck. “Alright, my babies,” Dana said in her calm, commanding tone. “Time for aftercare. Every session, every lesson, ends the same way—with comfort, calm, and a fresh diaper.” Patty whimpered softly, still trembling. Dana lifted her gently, guiding her toward the changing table. “You did very well,” Dana murmured, kissing the top of her head. “Even when it felt overwhelming, you obeyed. That’s the mark of a true little girl.” Carol stepped closer, curiosity and awe on her face. “Can I… watch the aftercare too?” Dana’s eyes sparkled. “Yes, Carol. And you can help if you like. It’s part of the process—showing care, reinforcing obedience.” Patty lay down on the padded surface, the bulk of her diaper crinkling audibly as Dana unfastened it. Carol handed her a fresh diaper, mimicking Dana’s gentle movements. Together, they wiped Patty clean, lightly dusted her bottom with powder, and carefully taped on the new diaper. Each motion was deliberate, reverent almost, emphasizing the ritualized nature of care. Her husband was next. Dana lifted him, patting his back as he babbled incoherently, his pacifier bobbing. Carol assisted by steadying him while Dana unfastened the soaked diaper and cleaned him thoroughly, powdering and securing the new garment in one smooth flow. The three of them moved in harmony—Dana directing, Carol following, and the babies surrendering completely. When both were freshly diapered, Dana gathered them into her lap in the crib. She adjusted Patty so her head rested comfortably against her chest and encouraged her husband to settle beside them. Their pacifiers were returned, their bodies warm and secure. “Now,” Dana murmured, tilting her nursing bra into place, “it’s time to feed. Remember, babies don’t get nursing as a reward—it’s an essential part of being a baby. It’s what keeps you healthy, calm, and happy. You’ve obeyed, you’ve participated, and now it’s time to nurture yourself.” Patty blinked behind her pacifier as Dana gently brought her mouth to the nipple. Her husband instinctively latched on beside her, the rhythm of their suckling soft and steady. Dana’s hands stroked each of their heads, murmuring gentle encouragement. Carol crouched nearby, observing in awe. “It’s… it’s so… natural. Even after everything, they just… they trust completely.” Dana smiled warmly. “Yes. And the trust is earned through discipline, guidance, and structure. That’s why every spanking, every harness lesson, every diaper change matters. And every feeding reinforces that trust.” The room filled with the soft sound of suckling, the rustle of diapers, and Dana’s gentle murmurs. Patty relaxed under Dana’s touch, eyelids drooping, a contented warmth spreading through her. Her husband babbled quietly, occasionally making soft noises of pleasure at the calm attention. After several minutes, Dana shifted slightly to ensure both babies were fully latched and comfortable. “There,” she said softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from Patty’s face. “See? This is what being a baby means. Every need attended to, every lesson completed. And now, calm, warm, and safe.” Carol whispered, almost reverently, “I… I see it now. It’s more than just… play. It’s care, trust, submission… love.” Dana’s eyes twinkled. “Exactly. And it’s a ritual that repeats daily. Discipline, guidance, feeding, diapering—it’s all part of the same cycle. Every day, they grow more secure in their roles.” When the feeding was complete, Dana gently detached Patty, burped her, and laid her back into a soft, padded nest beside her husband, still clutching his plush duck. Their eyes were half-lidded with satisfaction, pacifiers bobbing softly, diapers warm and full. Carol stepped back, smiling in amazement. “I… I’ve never seen anything like this. Truly. They’re happy, obedient, and completely… themselves.” Dana nodded, tucking a loose blanket over both babies. “And that’s how it should be. Discipline, care, and feeding. Everything else just follows.” The afternoon light filtered through the nursery window, casting warm patterns over the playpen and padded mats. Both babies were calm, diapered, fed, and content. The lessons of the day—spanking, the strap-on session, obedience, nursing—had left them deeply immersed in their baby roles. Dana, standing with a satisfied smile, knew Auntie Carol had witnessed the full scope of her household: the authority, the ritual, the trust, and the surrender. Carol, smiling faintly, waved goodbye as she left, still marveling at the extraordinary care and structure Dana maintained. Patty and her husband remained nestled together, pacifiers in place, diapers secure, a picture of obedient contentment. Dana closed the door behind Carol, the quiet of the nursery settling back over the room. She knelt to stroke both babies’ heads, murmuring softly, “Good girls. Today was a big day, but you did so well. Mommy is proud.” And with that, the ritual of the day was complete: discipline, play, submission, and feeding—all integrated into the careful, structured life of her babies.