Diaper References

"Sliders" By Tali "In the 19th century, two British scientists made an amazing discovery," said the teacher, reading out loud from the physics textbook. "moving a magnet near a  loop shaped conductor causes an electric inflow in the loop..." High-school junior Michelle Williams yawned in the classroom. She sat next to her desk, laid her chin on her wrists and tried not to fall asleep. She already knew all that.  And why wouldn't she? Electromagnetisem is one of the easier fields in physics, and  when it came to that, Michelle was a real expert. She wasn't a nerd or something, she was just very good at physics, that's all.  "...So a magnetic field can be caused not only by a magnet, but also by an electrically  charged partical in motion," Came back the teacher's voice, which brought her back to  attention. "Which causes the Lentz force", Michelle thought, yawning again. "That field causes a radial electromagnetic force, which is also known as the Lentz  force", continued the teacher. Michelle thought she was going to be the first person  ever to die out of boredom. Luckily, the bell rang, indicating the end of the final  lesson for that day, talk about saved by the bell. "OK, your homework for the vacation is chapter seven and the work sheets I handed, I  wish you all a nice vaction, I'll see you in a week. dismissed" Ms Johnson said as everyone headed towards the door. "Now, Scott, Michelle, can I see you for a moment?", The two teens reluctantly approached their teacher. "I understand you'll be working with Professor Berg this  week", "Yes Ms Johnson", they said. "Okay, so good luck with that. I'm sure you'll study a lot from him, he's a real genius". "Sure he is", Michelle thought to herself as Ms Johnson left, "That's why YOU are only reading the textbook he wrote while HE is doing some actual work. The only thing YOU know is how to give homework". Scott gave Michelle a gloomy look. At 6'2" she was taller than him by a head. He watched as she tied her silky blonde hair in a bunch. Scott sighed and picked up his black Nike schoolbag, put his shiny sunglasses on and said "Okay Michelle, are you coming?". Whenever she stood next to Scott, Michelle always felt how sloppy she is. Michelle had to wear her older sister's hand-me-downs, clothes which her mother bought in dimes long long ago. She even had to wear Emily's old sneakers, which were so tattered and dirty than even the washing machine couldn't clean them entirely. Michelle washed and ironed all her clothes; her mother never had enough time. Her mother wasn't even at home most of the time. They didn't live in extreme poverty, but they were "white trash", nonetheless. She gave Scott's new designer's clothes an envious look and sighed. However, despite the envy, they were good friends. Michelle was the only person in the class who didn't call Scott "Wolfgang", a nickname which was given to him because of his German ethnicity. As a matter of fact, Scott didn't know anything about Germany nor did he understand German. His granfather immigrated to the USA just after the Nazis won the elections in 1933, and that's it. "So I'll see you in the university in a couple of hours", said Scott while Michelle got on the bus. "Why don't you stay at my place?", Michelle said, "It's closer to the campus". Scott was only at her place once, and if it hadn't been for Michelle, he would have been robbed. Twice. "Nah, I think I'll pass...", he said. "My mom's expecting me anyway...". Michelle gave  him a funny look as the bus doors closed. "My mom's expecting me anyway...", he imitated himself as the bus drove away. "What the hell was I thinking?". As she got off the bus, Michelle passed the neighborhood basketball court. Derek was  there again. "Does this guy EVER go to school?", she wondered. "Yo white bread, how 'bout a little 'one-on-one'?", he asked, passing her the ball.  "Nah, I really gotta go", she replied, passing it back. "So you be chickening out on me again, huh Michelle?". She stopped and smiled. "You know I can kick your black ass anytime". "Not anymore you can't", he said. "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is?". He simply pulled out a 5$ bill. "Oh, what the hell", Michelle said, "10 points, no bounds, anything goes. Your ass is mine!". 7 minutes later the game was over. "10-6, not bad Derek", Michelle said, "Not good enough though, you just never learn", she continued as she took the money and left. "That white chick is one hell of a gal", he thought, "She can still cream out any brother in the hood". Michelle opened the small appartment's door. Her mother wasn't there, as usual. She undressed and took a quick shower. When she got out she grabbed a bite and looked at the clock. "Oh, shit!", she thought, "I'm late!" When she got to the physics lab in the university, Professor Herman Berg and Scott were already there. In fact, they were then only people there. "You're late...", said Professor Berg. Being German himself, didn't like it when people were late. Professor Berg was a tall person in his early 40's. A little chubby, your typical absent-minded physics professor. "I'm sorry Professor", she said. "Well, come join us. I was just explaining the experiment we'll be doing today to Scott". Michelle was surprised. Usually when they worked with Professor Berg they just carried stuff around, xeroxing material from the library and stuff like that. She qickly sat down next to Scott and listened. "Have you ever heard about the parallel-worlds theory?", The Professor asked. "Yes", Scott said, "There is an infinite number of dimenisions and therefore there is an infinite number of parallel worlds where it's the same year and you're the same person, but everything else is different". "That's right", he said, "Well, today you'll help me prove it's not just a theory". Michelle and Scott were in shock. "You mean that's possible???", Michelle asked, "But how?" "Simple", he said, "Teleportation". Scott and Michelle stared at each other, not  believing what they've just heard. "You see," The Professor continued, "Until recently, physicists had all but ruled out  teleportation, in essence because all particles behave simultaneously like particles and like waves. The trick was this: they presumed that to produce an exact duplicate of any one particle, you would first have to determine both its particlelike properties, such as its position, and its wavelike properties, such as its momentum-" "But it's not possible because it'll violate the-", Michelle cut him off. "I know, I know", he said. He hated to be cut off. "You didn't let me finish. Doing so would violate the Heisenberg uncertainty principle of quantum mechanics. Under that principle, it is impossible to ever measure wave and particle properties at the same time. The more you learn about one set of characteristics, the less you can say about the other with any real certainty". The Professor paused a little and continued. "In 1993, though, an international team of six scientists proposed a way to make an end-run around the uncertainty principle. Their solution was based on a theorem of quantum mechanics dating to the 1930s called the Einstein-Podolsky-Rosen effect. It states that when two particles come into contact with one another, they can become 'entangled'. In an entangled state, both particles remain part of the same quantum system so that whatever you do to one of them affects the other one in a predictable, domino-like fashion. Thus, the group showed how, in principle, entangled particles might serve as 'transporters' of sorts. By introducing a third 'message' particle to one of the entangled particles, one could transfer its properties to the other one, without ever measuring those properties". "That made teleportation possible only for photons", he said, "But about a week ago I found out a way to make it possible for any other particle, including human-beings, I've given it the scientific name 'Quantum Translocation', but I like to call it 'Sliding' ". "So how does it work -", Scott said, "You just slide from world to world? This is SO cool!". "Well, basically yes, but...". "Here we go...", Michelle rolled her eyes. "I knew there was a 'but' ", said Scott. "Theoretically, some problems may occur - For instance, it's impossible to alter the  constant mass in a certain universe. And by sliding, one will affect the constant mass. Not significantly, but enough to suck this whole universe into the sliding vortex, causing it to collapse". "Oh, shoot! We wouldn't want THAT to happen, would we?", Michelle said. Scott started laughing, but when he saw the stern expression on the Professor's face he coughed. "Well, no. That's why I tried to keep the vortex as little as possible, and limited the time you can spend on each parallel world to up to one week, but the time changes automatically and depends on the world's quantum stability amongst other parameters". "The sliding vortex can cause alter your body so it could fit in its destination world. for instance, it the gravitational constant in some world is very low, your body would gain mass, and if the people on this world are gigantic, you body would grow as well in order to fit in". "Now, I'm going to get myself a cup of coffee, and when I'll get back we'll get  started". The Professor left. Michelle was getting bored. "What's taking the professor so long?", she thought as she picked up a metal ball from the Kinematics display and started tossing it from hand to hand. "Hey Scott!", she said, "Catch!", she threw it at him. Unfortunately, he was off-guard,  he turned around to see the ball almost hitting his face. He managed to duck. The ball hit a button on the big machine the professor said was the sliding machine. Suddenly a bluish vortex opened as if from nowhere, sucking Michelle and Scott into it. Michelle woke up, feeling a little drowsy. She found out was lying next to a tall tree.  She shook her head a little as she felt a cool breeze against her body. Her naked body. "Wha-?", she quickly got up, trying to find her clothes. They weren't there. Neither was Scott. "There you are young lady!", she felt someone very big grabbing her wrist. Someone  with a very familiar voice.

58. My Forward Planning I managed more house cleaning on Sunday than normal, but I was mostly just passing time. Something had come up, and then something else. It was only a few days since I had spent any time with Ffrances, but it was starting to feel like forever. I did my best to make sure Tess felt comfortable, but I knew that there was still something missing there. Almost like she wasn’t quite trusting me enough, and I knew that was something I had to work on. But turning someone into a little is a delicate process, and I knew I couldn’t rush. I knew that she was still wetting the bed whenever I told her to, but it was hard to tell if any of the triggers for daytime accidents had actually worked. And until I could be sure what was happening in her head, I couldn’t make proper plans to ensure she was in the proper emotional state to accept more babying. That was something else I wanted to talk to Ffrances about. But as luck would have it, I didn’t even need to ask. It was one of those times that I was really thankful to whatever divine being had set my life on a collision course with hers; because we were exactly on the same wavelength, and thinking about the same things. It was almost the first question out of her mouth, when she arrived just after four and found me hovering around the front door. “Wow, somebody missed me,” she chuckled. “You’re addictive. I need my fix.” “Sure, I’ll fix you. But I need to ask about Tess’s plans. Would you like to skip the cutscene and go straight to action, or have a sensible conversation like adults first?” “I… you know what I’d like,” I answered. “But that’s not the important thing right now. We need to make sure the little one is happy first, so if you think something needs discussing, that takes priority.” “Yes, Miss,” she chuckled, and I knew that I would be paying for that comment later. I always did; Ffrances liked to dictate the agenda, and when she made it easy for me to seize control I always knew that there would be consequences if I took her up on that. We sat at the kitchen table to talk. The lounge might have been a little more comfortable, but it also had more distractions. Especially given that I could hear the faint strains of music coming from the nursery. If we sat in the lounge we would be able to hear it more clearly, and we would spend some time just admiring how well she could play, rather than dealing with things that I should have organised earlier. “So, I think we need to do something nice for Tess for Christmas,” I said, once I had set the coffee machine running and got comfortable. “It’s a holiday for children, which means it’s even more important to littles. I should have organised something special, but I’ve been too distracted by work for the last few weeks.” “Distracted?” A raised eyebrow added more to that question than a hundred words. “Something stressful happened. Mostly because of my stupidity; but I nearly got myself in a lot of trouble. I know better now, I won’t do it again, and all the trouble has finally blown over. So there’s no need for you to worry about it, and I think I’d be too embarrassed to say.” “I could ask you,” she said, and I found myself getting more excited. She could, I knew. If she touched me in just the right place, it was impossible to lie to her. And that feeling of helplessness made me feel more alive than anything else. Being forced to confess that I was reading smut at work would be humiliating, but if it was Ffrances compelling me I could still get turned on by the proof of how much control she had. “Tess,” I said, bringing the conversation back on track. I didn’t want to let all of my ideas slip away. “She needs something special for Christmas.” “Right,” she nodded. “We can talk about the other thing later. First up, what’s the schedule? She’s put a sticker on the calendar for Friday, I assume that’s her last day of school. Now, when I first met her she said the plan was for her to visit her parents for a few days. Do you know yet when her flights are going to be, and if we’ll need to drive her to the airport?” I almost cursed under my breath, but stopped myself. A brief flash of a concerned smile told me that I couldn’t hide anything from Ffrances. I had to tell her: “Okay, I completely forgot about that. I’m not sure if I need to book flights or leave that to John Naylor. Heck, I don’t even know if she’s still planning to go. She certainly seems to be feeling more at home here, and she might decide to wait until they have a longer break at summer. I mean, isn’t the Mediterranean supposed to be lovely and warm in the summer, but awful in winter? That’s why so many people have summer houses there.” “I don’t know,” she shrugged. “But I did wonder. She’s been so nervous the last couple of weeks, I’m starting to wonder if… if there’s someone in her life now. Somebody she has real feelings for, and I could imagine her not wanting to be separated for a week if she’s close to the start of a new relationship.” That was something I hadn’t even considered. But after what had happened on Friday, I was pretty sure that the guy calling himself Spike was the only one she had spent significant time with. Was he grooming her in spite of all the safeguards I had tried to put in place? But at the same time, I realised that he might end up helping me. My plan didn’t include losing touch with the little girl for a week; and if she could go longer than a week without any reminders of her little status, she might start to realise how far out of the ordinary it was. Her resistance to being called baby had started to fade through constant exposure, and it could undo a lot of that work if it surprised her after a break. So perhaps it would help if this boy could tempt her to stay in town. “I can imagine that,” I answered, not venturing a guess as to who it might be. She hadn’t seen them together, and it seemed she still believed his claims to be gay. “But if she’s going, we’ll have to work around that. Maybe we could have like a mini Christmas party first. Put the decorations up while she’s still here, and give her all the kind of treats of a kid on Christmas morning. A Christmas suitable for a little girl, to help her relax before the real one.” “I don’t know if they’ll have obnoxious relatives coming over, in San Lorenzo. That’s a long way to travel, so it could be just her and her parents. Still, I do agree that if she wants to feel like a child, it would be a shame to miss Christmas. We could get her some toys, and let her play. But…” “But?” I asked, taking a deep breath. I knew from the tone that Ffrances had both a problem and some guess at a solution, but she was reluctant to bring up one of them. “She’s been very nervous about admitting this little side of her. She said before that if I was hypnotising you like that again, she’d love to go along with it. But she seems more than reluctant to do it alone, and that worries me. Are you sure that she genuinely wants this, and isn’t just going along with it to please you?” “She was the one who raised it,” I pointed out. “Before she even came here, she voted a whole bunch of posts about caregiver and little stuff on my FriendSpace history. And she told me that she was curious, as soon as I admitted to being into it. Maybe my embarrassment masked hers for a moment, or something, but she said she didn’t think she would be able to ask to be little. Or even to admit that she’d said she wanted it. She asked me right out to make that judgement for her, and to push her when it seems she’s ready.” I hoped I hadn’t repeated myself too much there, or contradicted what I’d previously told her. I was improvising on the spur of the moment, and I just couldn’t get over the fact that Tess had told Ffrances she wanted to be regressed again. Even if it was in the context of helping me with some perceived little side, that was a really good sign. But how could I get her to do that without being little myself. “Well, I think she might go with it, anyway. But not alone. And that makes me wonder. She’s an only child, right? Could it be that it’s not lost innocence she’s chasing? I mean, she’s pretty innocent still. It might be that she feels she’s missed out on something. The sibling bond? She wants to relive her childhood with the little sister she never had.” “I… Yeah. I could see that,” I answered. And I really could. She’d been reluctant to try regressing to start with, to the point that I’d pretty much had to beg her to go along. I’d let her believe that I was a little, and perhaps she’d found a hole in her heart where teasing a little sister filled the void. That could give her a real reason to keep on trying, and if it were true I wouldn’t even need to trick her anymore. There was only one problem with that, which I suspected was why Ffrances was so nervous to mention it. I’d told her that I felt absolutely degraded by being younger than my little; and it was unlikely I could cope with that again. Perhaps I would be able to convince Tess to regress by promising to be regressed, but tell Ffrances that I needed to stay on the right side of my teen rebel years. Would that be close enough? “There might be a way to give her what she wants,” Ffrances said, choosing her words with care. “To give both of you what you want, really. But somehow, I don’t think you even want to hear it.” “I know. But I’m sure there must be another option.” 59. My Beautiful Assistant “I don’t think I can do it,” I said. I’d given it a few minutes thought, but I really didn’t want Tess to see me regress again. I’d done it the first time because it might help her to accept it if she saw someone else doing it; but I really hadn’t liked feeling like a little kid. It had only ever been for show, and I needed Tess to see me as an adult. Maybe it was the best way to persuade her to take part, but if it diminished her respect at the same time it wouldn’t bring her any closer to accepting me as her Mommy. “You didn’t hear the idea yet.” “I could be a baby too. But I really didn’t like it. And if you know what I was like when I was her age, you wouldn’t want me hanging around her when it’s supposed to be a joyful time. I would have been a bad influence.” “How about me?” She raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting an answer. It took about two seconds before she realised that I was still in the dark, and that she needed to give a little more detail. “I mean, if you want to be Nice Auntie Gabby, I can be her little sister. Like last time, but the other way around. If she’s still seeing this as a weird thing that’s only for a small group of people, knowing that I’d be happy to try it too might help her to accept it. Do you think you’d be okay with that?” “I can’t ask you to do that,” I shook my head. I could imagine Ffrances dressed up like a baby, helpless and innocent, but I didn’t want those images in my mind. It was just wrong, she didn’t know how degrading it could be to lose control like that. Especially for someone like her, naturally dominant in all parts of her life. “You’re not. It was my idea, and I’ve thought it through. It would give Tess the opportunity to find her littlespace again, and get more comfortable with it. And at the same time, I think that if I knew what it feels like, it would be easier for me to understand it. Last time it was so hard thinking how you expected me to act. If Tess is going to be our little, I need to have a better understanding of what kind of things she would enjoy.” “It’s not that easy, though,” I tried to explain, even though I’ve never been so good with these abstract concepts. “You’re always in charge. You walk into the room, and I know you’re the one with all the power. If you’re a natural dominant, I don’t think it’s possible to really understand the attraction of helplessness. You can’t just change roles so easily, you need to explore the side of the dynamic that fits your personality. You don’t have to degrade yourself, just to understand some new activity.” “I don’t see it as degrading. Didn’t you say, when you were explaining what Tess told you, that it’s about reclaiming a feeling of innocence? But you’ve got a good idea, I think. If there was someone we knew locally who might be curious about the lifestyle, it might be good for Tess. To have a second opinion telling her that there’s nothing wrong with the way she feels.” If there were someone around here who would try being a little just once, I was sure that would help to normalise the concept for Tess, and make it harder for her to argue against going through with it. Like Ffrances had said, she was more likely to try something new if she was doing it for someone else. I wondered how hard it would be, if I could find out a little about her friends, to trick one of them into suggesting it. I’d only need to get them curious, and then hint that Tess was interested too but ashamed to admit it. “I think there’s one other person who might have some feelings in that direction, but hasn’t fully realised it yet.” “One of the neighbours?” I answered, startled. I was sure that if I’d met a little, even someone who hadn’t come out to themself, I would have known about it. Or perhaps Ffrances meant someone I’d only briefly met. “Oh, you mean one of your colleagues, the intern maybe, what’s her name? I don’t know them that well, but–” “I’m not telling you who. I respect other people’s secrets, especially if they haven’t realised it yet. But someone who knows both of us a little. I wondered how they would react. I wanted to know whether they would freak out if they figured out about the things we already did for Tess. So I kind of mentioned some things about different coping mechanisms that people might have for dealing with unusual stressors. Like it’s an academic curiosity, the more you know kind of thing. And they didn’t say anything, didn’t single out one thing in particular. But you know that look, when somebody first sees something, and it’s like it fits perfectly and they understand themselves in a new way. If they didn’t google ageplay after I’d gone, I must be losing my skill for reading people. There’s someone I know out there who’s probably wondering if they’re a little, even if they don’t yet understand what that means. Now, I wouldn’t invite them to join in something like this, because that would mean pushing them to dive in head first, when they should be taking baby steps to explore. But sooner or later, we might be able to have another little visit for an occasional playdate. If you’re okay with that.” “Of course I am!” I gasped. I couldn’t believe it. I did hope it was the young girl who was helping out the admin staff around Ffrances’s office, because she was close enough to Tess’s age that they might be able to be friends. A little positive peer pressure never hurt anyone. “But it looks like Operation: Kid at Christmas is going to be a bust.” “Don’t worry.” She hugged me from behind, squeezing me tight against her. “If Tess wants to be a kid at Christmas, I’m happy to do it with her. We only need to think about–” “No,” I insisted. “You’re the one who makes the decisions, remember? It’s great that you want to help Tess, but you don’t have to sacrifice–” “I want to,” she answered, and the tone of her voice shifted just a little. “And if I’m making the decisions, why are you arguing? Now, have you thought about age-appropriate gifts for us, and the logistics for this little celebration? Because if we’re doing it, we need to get it organised soon. Tess might be leaving pretty soon after the end of her classes.” There was a lot more to talk about, of course. But I knew it wasn’t so important. Ffrances would never accept being submissive; she always carried herself with a distinct aura of power. But she had said we were planning something anyway, perhaps in case her mysterious friend could be persuaded to join in. I didn’t think anything would come of it, but I was never going to disobey her. Not when she insisted in that voice. So I did my best to come up with something that would be fun for the little one, and also give her a subtle nudge towards her little persona. If I could get everything prepared right, get Tess to agree to hypnosis a few times in order to please others, and build the right associations when she was in littlespace, I was sure I could do it. I would be able to put her back there with a word, and cure her of all the pressure to act grown up. But after dinner, Ffrances had to go again. She had other commitments, especially over the next week, because she was doing a course to renew one of her health board certificates. So after watching Live From Palmerston! and laughing at their antics, Tess retreated to her room and the Internet, while I went to my office and phoned John Naylor. He was glad I’d called. He quickly explained that they hadn’t fully planned what Tess was doing over the holidays. It was difficult for him to book plane tickets, because they didn’t know when Tess would be free, or when it would be easiest to get to the airport. It would be so much easier to cross-reference different websites for flights, insurance, and travel to the airport if it was done by someone who was actually in this country. So when I suggested it, he said he would be happy for me to handle all the arrangements on this end, coordinating with Tess to fit in around any plans she and her friends had. This was the gift horse I hadn’t dared hope for. I would wait until she came back from school on Friday, I decided, and then offer to help her book her flights. The period immediately around Christmas was always busy, and likely to be fully booked. I estimated that the last flights available would be the weekend after next, and an application for a tourist visa to San Lorenzo would take six to eight working days to be processed. By friday, even if we tried our hardest, it would be too late. And a little cut off from her parents at a time traditionally reserved for families would be more stressed than ever. I would offer her a chance to be little, and she would jump at it just to avoid missing her family. Maybe I could even get her to call me Mommy, after I helped her to get through the disappointment of holiday plans ruined by cruel fate. Tess would get her little Christmas party after all. Just like we had planned, but without Ffrances or me needing to sacrifice our dignity. It would be her extra special gift to me, and she wouldn’t even realise it.     Seems to be a lot of twists packed in there; some more obvious than others. What do you think?

All is good for you; perhaps even some congratulations for being a little more toilet trained.

It's Monday morning and I haven't been able to wear a diaper since Thursday. I am not incontinent but very close to 24/7 in diapers. I went on a 9 hour car ride with two friends to visit another friend and of course they don't know about my diapers. The car ride was actually a little stressful because I am so used to just wetting my diaper as needed, often at the first mild urge to go pee pee. I almost wet my pants before we were able to stop at a rest area. This reminded me and reinforced how convenient my diapers are. Back to normal this morning in a wet and now messy Abena M4 diaper. I'll change in a little while and back to discreet diapers and wetting while at work. I missed the comfort, security, and convenience of diapers while on the trip with non ABDL friends. Now, wet, warm, and squishy again...so nice!

And napkins are made from a fabric with a deep nap, which is the small loops on both sides which provide a huge ammount of cotton to absorb liquids. "Nappy" is a discription of this absorbant fabric. Its a nice soft sounding word. As a kid hearing "Diaper" sounded harsh and made me think it was a tool, like screwdriver. So to diaper, sounded like it was the action of diaping.