Other Fetishes

This is a PREVIEW of a brand new and exclusive 69 page story! When Stefan makes a stop on his way home from college to see his friend, Aaron, from school, he couldn't have imagined how it would turn out. After making shocking discoveries, firstly about Aaron's brother Ollie and then about Aaron himself, he gets curious. When Aaron discovers what his friend knows he quickly sees an opportunity to improve his own position. All it will take is a little discomfort for Stefan... but surely he'd be willing to do that to help his friend, right? This story contains humiliation and diaper swapping as Aaron uses his friend to finally make some progress of his own. Will Aaron get what he wants? Will Stefan be able to endure it all to get home? Can Stefan cope with the embarrassing position he finds himself in? Find out in this brand new 69 page story! If you enjoy this preview and want to see what happens next you can find the full story on either my Ream or SubscribeStar pages. Writing is my only income and I'm only able to do it as much as I do thanks to the support of all my wonderful subscribers. If you would like to read this, along with 35+ other exclusive stories, you can find them below. https://reamstories.com/elfy https://subscribestar.adult/elfy ---  Stefan’s Worst Christmas By Elfy Stefan stepped off the bus and looked around at his old neighbourhood. It was somewhat strange to be back in the town he had grown up in after being away for the last few months. It always felt like stepping through a portal back in time, there were a lot of memories on those streets and whilst Stefan had changed, it felt like the town was as unmoving as a rock. What really interested Stefan was the house directly opposite the bus stop. The bus pulled away as Stefan gripped his small suitcase, and as the vehicle departed the scene he was left with an unobstructed view of his best friend’s house. Stefan had known Aaron for as long as he could remember. They had remained friends all throughout school, but they had gone in different directions. Stefan had good grades and ended up going to college, Aaron was never quite as gifted academically, though it was mainly due to his lack of application, Stefan knew his friend was unemployed and still lived at home with his father and brother. It made him a little bit sad, if he was honest, because Aaron could’ve done so much more. He still could, he was only in his early twenties after all. Stefan crossed the street and hauled his suitcase up the steps to the porch. He was only going to be staying for a day or two before returning to his parents’ house for Christmas. The doorbell rang and soon afterwards Stefan heard feet coming quickly to the door. It opened and there was Aaron, wearing a pair of baggy pants that seemed at least one size too big and a shirt that was a lot more form fitting. Stefan’s first impression of his friend was that he hadn’t been completely idle he was jobless. Aaron’s arms and chest were looking decidedly toned. He didn’t get a chance to get much more of an impression though, as Stefan stepped forward to give his friend a quick hug. Before he could do so, Aaron took a step back and looked rather spooked. Perhaps it was too much after not seeing each other for ages, Stefan tried to move on quickly to prevent any awkwardness. “It’s great to see you, man.” Stefan said. “You too. I’ve been looking forward to you coming for weeks.” Aaron replied as he held the door open and stepped aside, “Come in, it’s freezing out there.” Stefan walked into the old house. He had spent countless days running around the place when growing up. Memories flooded back of late-night video game sessions in the basement, sleepovers in the bedrooms upstairs and even of Stefan’s little brother, who had always seemed so annoying when they were younger. “Ollie!” Aaron shouted into the house, “Stefan’s here!” Stefan heard a small banging noise from upstairs until Ollie leaned over the banister. He gave Stefan a quick wave and mumbled greeting before apparently returning to whatever he was doing. Stefan gave a little snort of laughter and Aaron returned the look of half-amusement. The pair of them hadn’t always been the kindest to Ollie, seeing him as an annoying kid clinging on to them when they hung out. “Where’s your dad?” Stefan asked. “At work.” Aaron replied, “Come on, let’s get your bags into my room, then we can catch up… Erm, you go first.” Stefan noticed that his friend seemed oddly reluctant to go up the stairs despite being right next to them. In fact, Stefan accidentally banged his suitcase into Aaron as he manoeuvred enough space to reach the stairs himself. Aaron came up behind him. “It’s the same room as before.” Aaron said, “I wanted to set up the basement for you to stay in but dad’s using it as an office…” Stefan reached the landing and walked down past the familiar doorways. He came to one that had the same “Keep out!” sign on it that he remembered from when they were teenagers. He couldn’t help but smile, though he was a little surprised to see it there still. Aaron squeezed past Stefan and opened the door just enough to stick his head in. Stefan frowned, it was as if his friend was checking to see if someone was already in there or something. After a few seconds he pushed the door open. “Wow…” Stefan said as he carried his bag in and put it down on the floor. If seeing the neighbourhood had created an odd sense of familiarity, stepping through the door into Aaron’s bedroom was like going through a time warp. It hadn’t changed at all. The same posters were on the wall, the same beanbag sat in the middle, the same books on the shelves, it looked like the same sheets on the bed, hopefully washed. Stefan felt a sense of a person stuck in a rut when he looked about the place. “Put your stuff down.” Aaron said as he hovered in front of a chest of drawers. Stefan noticed a couple of them were lopsided, “Do you remember “Gunsters”?” “Of course I do, man.” Stefan laughed, “We played that game from sunup to sundown on some days!” “Want a game?” Aaron smiled as he held up the cartridge for the old game. A couple of minutes later Stefan and Aaron were sat in front of the television and playing Gunsters together like they had on so many days of their youth. They talked a lot and caught each other up with what was going on in their lives. It was just like old times. After a couple of hours, the front door opened, and Aaron informed Stefan that it was likely his father coming home. Stefan asked if they should go down and say hello, but Aaron seemed hesitant. A few minutes after returning to the game Aaron paused it and suddenly stood up. He told Stefan to wait right there whilst he went downstairs for some drinks. Stefan offered to help but Aaron told him to stay where he was. Stefan was a little confused, his friend had become strangely tense. Aaron closed the door behind him as he left and Stefan had the impression that, if he’d had a lock on the outside, he’d have locked Stefan in the room. When Aaron returned to the room a few minutes later, he looked sheepish and nervous. He went back to the spot he had been sitting in before and said very little. Stefan just shrugged it off; it was probably always going to be a little awkward after they hadn’t seen each other for a little while. The plan was for Stefan to stay the night before returning home to his family, it would be like their old sleepovers, a nice nostalgic throwback before Christmas. Stefan barely moved except to go to the bathroom. Time seemed to flow by and the longer he was there, the more natural everything felt. Aaron seemed to chill out a lot, though he remained noticeably stiff when Stefan was near him. Once dinner rolled around and they went downstairs, Stefan found Aaron racing ahead again. As he was walking down the stairs Ollie appeared at the top, he looked over his shoulder and gave the eighteen-year-old a smile, Ollie didn’t seem to keen on returning it. Stefan was struck by just how strong his friend’s younger brother looked. “Ah, there he is.” Vince, Aaron’s father was setting the table, “It’s great to see you again!” Stefan smiled and sat down next to Aaron. Vince had always been nice, if a little overbearing, and it was nice to talk to someone who looked and sounded like Stefan remembered. He asked Stefan how college had been going and was really the only person keeping the conversation going as they ate. The two brothers remained quiet most of the time unless prompted to say something. As dinner came to an end, Stefan sat back in his chair with a contented smile. “Alright, do either of you…” Vince started as he looked from left to right at both his adult sons. “No!” They both exclaimed together. “Well, OK then!” Vince chuckled as he stood up from his chair and collected the plates. Stefan frowned at the sudden outbursts. He looked at Aaron and Ollie, they both seemed a little rosy cheeked and were avoiding eye contact. Aaron was distracted when the plate in front of him was picked up. “Thank you.” Stefan said, “That was very nice.” “You’re quite welcome.” Vince replied. Stefan stood up to head to the bathroom as everyone dispersed. He wasn’t having a bad time at all, but something just seemed… off. He wasn’t stupid. Clearly something had changed since Ollie and Aaron were acting so strangely, but he wasn’t going to pry. If they didn’t want to tell him what was going on, well, that was their business. Aaron was oscillating wildly between the guy he had known growing up and an anxious, twitchy stranger. Ollie seemed surly and had definitely grown in Stefan’s years away, but he also seemed somewhat distant and wary. It was only Vince who hadn’t surprised him. He finished up in the bathroom and flushed the toilet. Stepping back out on to the landing he saw that Ollie’s door was ever so slightly ajar. The curiosity was too much for Stefan to ignore and as he walked past on the way back to Aaron’s room, he peaked inside. What he saw made him stop dead in his tracks. He had to quickly cover his mouth to avoid making a noise. Ollie was standing in his room, naked, with his back to the door. What really drew Stefan’s attention was the pull-up he was unfolding and stepping in to! Stefan’s eyes went wide. There was no mistaking it, that was a pull-up. Ollie must’ve been a bedwetter! Now, Stefan never saw himself as a bully even if he took part in some teasing of his best friend’s younger brother that sometimes went too far, but he couldn’t help but find the image of the big strong surly man needing a pull-up a particularly funny one. Stefan was still standing at the crack of the door, looking in and trying not to laugh when Aaron’s door opened. Stefan quickly waved his friend over. Maybe it was being back in the home of a childhood friend, but he couldn’t help feeling like a kid again. Seeing an adult require protection was something he found very funny. “What’s going on?” Aaron whispered nervously as Stefan told him to keep it down. Stefan, looking like he was about to burst out laughing, pointed at the crack in the door. Aaron joined him in looking through, seeing Ollie with the pull-up around his waist. He thought his friend would have a similar reaction, but Aaron, from the glance out the corner of his eye, seemed to have gone white and wide-eyed. It must’ve been a shock to see Ollie that way. Stefan was having real trouble holding the laughter in. Eventually he just couldn’t do it anymore, and he let out a loud sound, as he covered his mouth, that made both Ollie and Aaron jump. Ollie spun around in his room and saw that the door was open a little. He quickly tried to cover himself up as he ran to the door and pushed it closed. No longer holding the laughter back, Stefan bent over and let it all out, Aaron joined in, but it seemed a bit more forced and strained, he was still drained of colour. “Pervert!” Ollie called from the other side of the door, “Go away or I’ll tell dad!” Stefan had no reason to stay. He walked away from the door and down the landing, still laughing. Aaron led the way back to the bedroom and stepped inside. His smile was more like a grimace as he perched on the edge of his bed and Stefan sat on the floor where he had been when playing video games earlier. “Man, you never told me your brother wore diapers!” Stefan exclaimed as laughter threatened to spill out again. “Pull-ups…” Aaron replied quietly. “Whatever.” Stefan waved a hand dismissively, “Is he a bed wetter?” Aaron shrugged. It was an awkward movement, as if his muscles weren’t responding exactly as he wanted them to. Stefan noticed his eyes darting around, looking at everything except him. It was a little weird, but then, Aaron had been acting slightly strangely all day. “What’s up, man?” Stefan asked as he reclined against a chest of drawers, “You’re acting weird.” “Nothing.” Aaron replied quickly, “Just, erm, surprised, I guess.” “What a baby.” Stefan said as he shook his head, “I wish I had my phone with me. Did you know he wore diapers?” “Pull-ups.” Aaron said again, “No, I didn’t.” Stefan noticed that Aaron had partially pulled his cover over the top of himself. It seemed a little early to be going to bed though. He picked up his controller from the floor and went back to the game, Stefan followed. He really wanted to talk more about Ollie, but he couldn’t ignore how uncomfortable Aaron appeared to be. He picked up his own controller, and they soon moved on to other topics, ones which seemed to allow Aaron to act a little more like his old self. Perhaps Ollie had gone too far, maybe he had let old impulses take over in this familiar setting. He resolved to apologise the next morning. They carried on playing their games until they were both getting tired. It was about ten o’clock and all Stefan’s travelling was starting to catch up with him. Aaron seemed to grow noticeably more fidgety as Stefan talked about getting ready for bed. “There a sleeping bag and a blow-up mattress in the landing closet.” Aaron said, “Did you want to get that?” Stefan stood up and stretched. It had been a while since he’d allowed himself to have an evening where he did absolutely nothing except play video games. It had been nice, and in a way, it was a shame he was going to have to leave to continue home the next day. He had promised to spend Christmas with his family though; he couldn’t back out of that. Maybe he would see if he could leave a day early and spend some more time with Aaron before heading back to college. Stefan stepped out of the room and walked down to the landing opposite Ollie’s bedroom. The door remained fully closed. Stefan shook his head and chuckled before opening the closet and pulling out the airbed and the sleeping bag. It was just as he was reaching for the handle on the door to Aaron’s room when it suddenly opened. Aaron appeared in the doorway looking slightly out of breath and with his backpack. “Going somewhere?” Stefan asked with a frown. “Just, erm… to the bathroom.” Aaron replied. “With a bag?” Stefan continued. Aaron didn’t say anything, just nodded quickly. Like a lot of things that evening, it certainly seemed odd behaviour, but he wasn’t going to push too hard. He stepped aside and let Aaron come out on to the landing. Stefan walked into the bedroom and pulled the door closed. He immediately noticed something had changed but it took a second to see exactly what. Stefan walked into the centre of the room and put down the airbed. He looked at the chest of drawers, the ones he had been sat next to all day and saw that something white was sticking up out of the middle one, just a little bit, but next to the dark colour of the drawers it was very obvious, and he was certain it hadn’t been there before. Unable to contain his curiosity, Stefan reached for the handle to the drawer and pulled, sliding it open. His mouth dropped open. The bit of white he had seen poking up belonged to a diaper. The drawer was stuffed full of them. Not just discreet pull-ups like he had seen Ollie pulling up his legs earlier that evening, but thick diapers with tapes, wetness indicators and a hell of a lot of padding. He stared at them, almost unable to comprehend what he was seeing. As if finding the last piece of a puzzle he hadn’t been aware he was solving, everything slid into place. All of Aaron’s odd behaviours, the seeming reluctance to join in certain things, it all made sense. Stefan reached down and picked one of the diapers up. He could hardly believe his friend wore such things. Had he been wearing one all day? It would explain why Aaron didn’t want to walk in front of Stefan, why he shied away from contact. Stefan felt an immediate curiosity. He had never thought about diapers at all, but now he was wondering what one would feel like. His fingers felt the smooth outer plastic and the cotton feeling of the padding inside. He knew he wouldn’t have long, but maybe, if he hurried, Stefan could try the diaper on and then get rid of it before anyone figured anything out. He couldn’t say what was driving that curiosity, all he knew was that it was there. Maybe it was a desire to feel what Aaron and his brother were feeling. Stefan pulled the diaper out of the drawer. It unfolded in front of him, falling open and revealing the padded centre with papery wings on the sides. He hurried over to the bed and laid down. For just a second, he hesitated, maybe it wasn’t such a good idea. His curiosity got the better of him. He slid the diaper underneath his butt, then lifted his hips and turned it when he realised, he had it the wrong way round. Stefan pulled the front of the diaper up between his legs. It felt very weird, the padding pushing his thighs apart as he laid there. He was tempted to stop right there, he had a pretty solid idea of what wearing a diaper would be like, it didn’t seem particularly pleasant. Something kept him moving though. He never liked to leave things half-finished. The tapes stuck to the front of the diaper with much more force than Stefan had been expecting. Then it was done. He had put a diaper on himself. Shifting his hips a little, he felt the diaper shift and heard it crinkle. It didn’t take long to realise that he didn’t much care for the feeling. It seemed crazy that Aaron had been wearing them. He couldn’t always have been wearing diapers. Stefan remembered times when they were younger when he saw his friend in much more normal underwear, which meant this was a more recent thing. Stefan was still thinking, his hands on top of the tapes that held the diaper to himself, when the door started to open. Panic flooded Stefan’s system, he did the only thing he could, he pulled the covers up and over himself just seconds before Aaron stepped back into the bedroom. The long shirt he was wearing over baggy pants made a lot more sense in light of recent revelations. “Did you want to help me with the airbed?” Aaron asked. He remained on the opposite side of the room to Stefan, seemingly trying to keep distance between them. “I’m, erm, pretty tired.” Stefan faked a yawn, “Is it OK if I just lay here?” “Sure, I guess.” Aaron replied. It all seemed so obvious. Now that Stefan knew that Aaron was wearing a diaper, or at least he deeply suspected it, he could see the outline occasionally when he bent over. It seemed much noisier now that he knew what he was listening for. Unfortunately, none of that made Stefan feel any better. The diaper he had put on felt very obvious, even under the covers. He wondered what exactly Aaron would say if he found out. It was a very awkward situation and Stefan dealt with it by remaining absolutely still as Aaron used the electric pump to inflate the mattress. “I guess I’ll take the airbed.” Aaron said as he dropped a cover and some pillows on it. “OK.” Stefan replied. He remained as still as a statue and knew he must seem pretty odd to his friend. “Everything OK?” Aaron asked. “Yeah, why?” Stefan fired back a little too defensively. “No reason.” Aaron said as he slipped under the cover, looking relieved to add a barrier between himself and Stefan, “You’re just… Never mind, it doesn’t matter.” There was a pregnant pause. Neither of them said anything. It was a ridiculous situation to find himself in, but all Stefan could do was wait in the bed and hope a chance arose in the morning for him to dispose of the diaper without anyone discovering what had happened. “Well… goodnight.” Aaron said finally. The darkness in the room almost total except for a few LED lights from different sources. “Goodnight.” Stefan replied. He remained rigid and barely daring to breath lest he give the game away. It didn’t take long for sleep to start weighing on his eyes. --- Aaron laid on the air mattress. He was exhausted. All day he had been tensed up, terrified that his old friend would discover a secret he desperately wanted to keep. The fact that Stefan hadn’t noticed that he had been wearing a diaper all day seemed nothing short of miraculous. It was only in the darkness, with the soft breathing of his friend indicating that he had fallen asleep, that he was finally able to relax. More than just relaxed though, Aaron feels annoyed, perhaps even angry. He’d always seen Stefan as a good guy. Sure, they’d got up to some mischief growing up but what teenagers didn’t? It seemed like something had changed, perhaps it had occurred when his friend had gone to college. He just couldn’t quite believe that Stefan had so openly mocked Ollie. It had been all Aaron could do, after excusing himself for the bathroom, to go and speak to his brother and practically beg him not to tell Stefan about the crinkly underwear he was wearing. As Aaron laid in the silence, watching the blinking of the digital clock on the chest of drawers, he heard something that instantly drew his attention. A crinkle. Aaron froze in place. If it had come from himself then he needed to be much more careful, because to his ears, highly tuned for such sounds, it seemed unmistakeable as a diaper. He must’ve shifted position without thinking about it and was lucky that Stefan was already asleep. Stefan moaned slightly and then rolled over in the bed. There it was again. The crinkling noise. Aaron was certain that he hadn’t moved that time, but that could only mean one other thing. It seemed like an option that was too absurd to even contemplate. Aaron slowly pushed himself up into a sitting position, rocking slightly as his bodyweight caused the air mattress to dip. In the dim light of the room he could just about make out the back of Stefan’s head, his friend was facing away from him. Aaron quietly reached over to his phone and picked it up. He pressed the button to turn the screen on and then shined it at the bed. The cover was completely over Stefan; it was impossible to make anything out. Aaron considered putting the phone down and going to sleep, but then he heard another soft crinkle as Stefan’s leg twitched. There was no way he could leave this alone. With a slowness that made it seem like he wasn’t even moving, Aaron pinched the edge of the cover nearest him and started to lift it up. He shined his phone underneath and saw it, right there, as plain as day. “I don’t believe it…” Aaron mouthed in the darkness. A diaper. Stefan was wearing a diaper. Aaron lowered the cover and tried to calm his suddenly racing mind. The diaper was the same brand that he wore. Same size as well, judging from the “L” printed up near the waistband. Aaron looked over at the set of drawers that his diapers were kept in, he could see that it was ever so slightly open. He was sure he wouldn’t have left it like that, not when he knew his friend would be staying in his room. Aaron’s first thought was that Stefan was wearing a diaper because he had to, just like himself. However, he dismissed the idea when he remembered the way Stefan had made fun of Ollie. There was no way Stefan would’ve have made such a song and dance about the pull-up if he himself needed a diaper. It also mostly ruled out the idea that Stefan was one of those weirdos Aaron had read about online, the people who enjoyed wearing diapers even when they didn’t have to. It must’ve been sheer curiosity that had got Stefan into that diaper. Aaron remembered how his friend had been quite insistent that he stay in the bed when he had re-entered the room. Now it seemed clear. He had put the diaper on and couldn’t move for the same reason that Aaron had been afraid to let his friend get too close. Aaron laid back down and thought about what this revelation meant. It didn’t take long for an idea to ferment inside his brain. Aaron checked that Stefan was still asleep and then crawled out of his own bed. The thin pyjama pants did little to hide the bulging diaper underneath, it shouldn’t be a problem though. Stefan was asleep and everyone else in the house already knew about the diapers. Once out on the landing Aaron moved a little more easily. He went downstairs, avoiding the one step that always creaked, and into the kitchen. He knew exactly what he was looking for as he opened the medicine cabinet. There were some powerful sedatives in there and though the recommended dosage was one, Aaron knew that taking two basically temporarily paralysed the person who had ingested them after accidentally taking a double dose once when struggling to sleep. The effects wouldn’t last long, but it would be long enough. “Make fun of people who need protection, eh?” Aaron said darkly as he filed a glass with water, “Let’s see if we can give you a change of heart.” Aaron crushed up the pills and used the straight edge of a knife to scrape the powder into the liquid. It didn’t take much stirring to make the water look completely innocuous. The plan would be simple, and not only would it teach Stefan a lesson, but it would also finally free Aaron from one of his dad’s stupid rules, one which left him padded all the time. --- Stefan woke up slowly. It felt like it was still early in the morning, Aaron was lying on his air mattress still. His eyes were closed but as soon as Stefan moved, they seemed to open, he must’ve been a very light sleeper. Stefan’s mouth felt dry, and he shifted to sit up. The movement caused a lot of crinkles from his waist, a reminder of what he was wearing. His heart nearly stopped but as he looked down at Aaron, it seemed like his friend had somehow not heard a thing. “Morning.” Aaron said with a theatrical yawn. “Hey.” Stefan swallowed down his nervousness. He would really need to find a way out of the diaper and soon. “I woke up in the night.” Aaron said, “Brought you some water.” “Thanks.” Stefan replied. Stefan moved very slowly as he twisted on to his side whilst doing everything to keep the diaper from making any noise. It was nerve wracking stuff, but he reached out for the glass and lifted it to his lips. Almost immediately, Stefan could taste that something was different about this water. He couldn’t put his finger on what it was, just that it didn’t taste like the water from the faucet at college or back at home. He assumed it must’ve been mineral water or something. When he saw Aaron taking big gulps of his own glass of water, he relaxed a little and finished his off. It didn’t take long for Stefan to start feeling weird. He felt a wave of coldness going over him, it started at the bottom of his feet and spread upwards, as if he was slowly sinking into a bath of cool water. He didn’t shiver though, instead he felt a numbness following the temperature change. He looked down at his legs and tried to move them, only to find that they were unresponsive. The feeling spread as his arms became heavier, he tried to roll over but halfway through he just collapsed. He couldn’t move a muscle, just blink. “Stefan?” Aaron’s voice came from the mattress on the floor. Stefan didn’t reply. He tried but he couldn’t make a sound. He was in an awkward position, halfway twisted with his legs flat on the bed but his upper body facing where Aaron was lying. He saw his friend sit up. He wanted to call for help, his panicking mind praying that Aaron recognised there was a major problem. Instead of trying to get help or anything, Aaron seemed to see that Stefan was looking at him and paused. A hand waved in front of Stefan’s half-closed eyes, and he followed it slowly. A lot of things felt slow right then. He was terrified he was having some sort of major medical problem. “It worked?” Aaron said. Stefan watched as Aaron reached out a hand and give him a push on the shoulder. His body, as lifeless as if it was dead, flopped against the mattress. The indent in the pillows being the only thing that had him looking up at the ceiling, otherwise he was sure his head would’ve rolled to the side. He tried with all his might to move a limb, to just make something twitch, and failed completely. Stefan heard movement on the air bed. He moved his eyes to try and see what was happening but couldn’t. He tried to make a sound, a plea for help, and found little more than breathy exhalations coming from his mouth. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw movement, Aaron was standing up and looking down on him. He couldn’t understand why his friend was smiling. “Oh, Stefan…” Aaron said, “You just had to be a dick to my brother. Then to snoop through my private things, well, that’s just rude.” Aaron grabbed the side of the cover and pulled it off the prone form of Stefan. Stefan’s breath caught in his chest as he was left exposed to the room. He would’ve preferred to have been completely naked. He may not have been able to move but he could feel the blood rushing to his face as Aaron stared down at the diaper. Stefan desperately wanted to explain, but it was impossible to get his vocal cords to work. He noticed that Aaron didn’t seem surprised to see the disposable. “Didn’t anyone tell you that stealing is wrong?” Aaron asked as he poked the diaper. Whilst Aaron pulled up his phone and started taking some photos, Stefan saw that his friend was very obviously wet. Soaked might have been a better descriptor. The diaper was hanging low off his hips and had rounded out; the previous whiteness having become darker. “Let me tell you, I really don’t appreciate you making fun of Ollie, or anyone in diapers.” Aaron said as he put the phone down, “Do you think I want to be wearing them? Do you think I like having this thing taped around my waist all day?” Stefan was a useless spectator to whatever was going to happen. He hadn’t seen his friend like this before and didn’t know what was going to come next. He had noticed that Aaron wasn’t the least bit concerned or surprised that Stefan was paralysed. The empty glass was still sat on the table, in the corner of his vision, and the dots started to connect. Aaron had drugged him! “I started having some trouble a few years ago.” Aaron explained, “Just occasionally, most of the time I would wake up in the night to go to the toilet. The problem was, when I didn’t wake up, well, let’s just say pull-ups weren’t going to hold everything…” Aaron knelt down next to Stefan’s face. Stefan had been rendered mute anyway, but if he could’ve spoken, he might have told his friend that there was a strong smell of urine coming from him. Stefan was horrified by the situation; he had no idea what Aaron was going to do. He hadn’t thought his friend was capable of drugging him like he had, now it seemed that all bets were off as to what might happen next. “Dad gave me diapers to wear.” Aaron was blushing as he spoke, “Obviously I didn’t want them, I certainly didn’t need them most of the time, but he insisted. Well, they aren’t easy to get on or off in a rush, and when I woke up in the night and needed the toilet right away, I’m sure you can guess what happened.” Stefan tried to say he was sorry, to ask for forgiveness for making fun of Ollie, and to express sympathy for his friend’s plight. All he managed was a small groan that he wasn’t sure Aaron even heard. “After a while I had a couple of accidents in the day.” Aaron continued, “They weren’t my fault! Once was on a road trip, I was dozing in the back of the car, half-asleep, and wet myself. The other time was because I didn’t change out of my nighttime diaper and I leaked. Anyway, the upshot of those incidents was dad making me wear the diapers during the day as well.” Aaron shook his head at that. His lips were pursed, and he seemed genuinely resentful over it. Stefan really wished he could move, that he could get up and run away, he was worried that Aaron had been driven insane and had no idea what was going to happen next. “But I don’t need these stupid things!” Aaron exclaimed. He was stood up, and his hand went down to cup the heavy padding in one of his hands, “You understand, right? My dad was being overzealous and it’s only because of him that I’m wetting myself everyday. It’s a vicious cycle. How can I prove I don’t need diapers when I’m forced to use them? That’s where you come in.” Aaron smiled and nodded his head as he looked up and down Stefan’s prone form. It was as if he was seeing his plan laid out before him and confirming to himself that it was fool proof. He moved down the bed a little, so that Stefan could barely see him from where his head was facing and sat down on the mattress. “You’ve always been a good friend.” Aaron said, “You’d want to help me, right? I mean, you put one of the diapers on yourself, you must understand what’s it’s like or want to help… Maybe you’re one of the perverts who LIKE to wear these things…” Stefan desperately wanted to refute that. He wanted to say that it was only dumb curiosity that had got him to put the diaper on, and he simply hadn’t had time to take it off again. He certainly didn’t want his friend to think he was weird, even despite everything else that was happening. A line of drool dripped from the corner of his mouth on to the pillow his head was propped against. If Stefan could’ve jumped, he would’ve done, when a hand was placed on the front of his obviously dry padding. It crinkled and he could feel the material shifting against his sensitive skin. “Yeah, you can help me.” Aaron chuckled, “Don’t worry, you don’t have to do a thing. It’s simple really. All I’m going to do is swap diapers with you whenever I’ve had to use mine. Then I’ll appear to have been dry, and dad will finally give me a chance to get out of these things. You might have to stay here a few more days, but that’s cool, right?” A lot of thoughts went through Stefan’s mind, and he wanted to vocalise them all. He wanted to tell Aaron he was crazy, he wanted to say he wouldn’t help, he wanted to plead that there must’ve been a better way. All of these thoughts disappeared and was replaced by sheer horror as Aaron started to peel the tapes on Stefan’s diaper. He could feel it getting looser with each pull, every synapse in his brain communicating the message to get away, and every muscle in his body ignoring them. The diaper was lowered between Stefan’s legs, and he was exposed to Aaron. Stefan felt himself turning bright red. He clamped his eyes shut, one of the only things he could manage to do, as Aaron made a snorting noise. “Wow, I’d have never guessed you were packing this!” Aaron said with a small laugh as he poked Stefan’s penis, “Hmm, might make some things a tight squeeze but I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Stefan had no idea what his friend could be referring to. It was humiliating enough to be ogled in such a way by Aaron, he didn’t need any comments, even if they were positive. He just really wanted to be covered up as soon as possible. “I know you probably have concerns at the moment.” Aaron said, “But don’t worry, this is all going to work fine. Just a few days and then we’ll be all good. It’s something we’ll laugh about in the future.” Stefan heard Aaron’s phone take another photo. He let out a strangled whine and then felt his hips get rolled back so the diaper could be pulled away, and he was left completely naked. Stefan heard more tapes getting pulled and the reality of what was going to happen hit him sharply. Aaron was going to put a diaper he had USED on to him. It was a gross enough idea that Stefan felt nauseous. With his legs rolled back yet again, Aaron’s diaper was laid underneath Stefan, and his butt was lowered on to the still warm disposable that his friend had soaked. Rather than being taped straight on though, Stefan heard Aaron fiddling with something, and then, completely unexpectedly, he felt hands on his balls. “I have a little something to assist with changes.” Aaron said. He was trying to hide it, but Stefan could hear the hint of laughter in his voice, “I found it in my brother’s room. I don’t want to know what he and his “friends” get up to in there when they visit, but I’m starting to think those banging noises I’m hearing through the wall aren’t them practising wrestling.” Stefan was more confused than anything. He could feel Aaron touching him and, as off-putting as that was, each time the hands moved there seemed to be a new tightness left behind. He could feel something around the back of his balls, and then his dick was pushed into something that felt like a tube. It was only belatedly that he realised what Aaron was doing. Stefan was not a kinky person, but he had seen chastity cages online, with a start he realised he was now in one. It felt tight and uncomfortable, almost enough to distract him from the fact that he was lying on his friend’s piss-soaked diaper. He moaned as much as he was able to as Aaron’s hands moved away but the tight feeling remained, there was another noise of a photograph being taken. “Don’t worry about the photos.” Aaron said as if he could read Stefan’s mind, “These are just an insurance policy. I don’t want you blurting out everything that we’ve decided to do. As long as you are a good boy, nobody will see these pictures.” Blackmail. Stefan was being forced to go along with the insane plan otherwise Aaron would expose him being in a diaper and in a chastity cage. He was supposed to see his parents later that day, though it seemed like he was going to have to delay that a little, he would never be able to face them if they saw the photos Aaron now had possession of. He was trapped. The diaper was pulled up between his legs until his entire crotch was covered in the warmth of the wet padding. Stefan desperately wanted to tear it off, even as the tapes were applied. He felt disgusting. “Don’t worry. Urine is sterile, and I make sure to stay hydrated.” Aaron laughed as he took another photo, “Oh, and that cage I put on you? I’ve got the key, so you don’t need to think about that either. I’ve thought of everything, alright?” Stefan opened his eyes when he heard Aaron walk in front of him again. Lying on the bed, his head was at crotch height of his friend, and he couldn’t help but notice Aaron was significantly bigger than he himself was. Aaron laid down on the airbed and taped himself into the dry diaper that Stefan had worn all night and, of course, hadn’t used. “That should be everything.” Aaron said as he sat up again, “Now we just have to wait for my dad. Oh, don’t worry, the medicine I gave you will wear off in a few hours and you’ll be back to normal.” Stefan couldn’t believe what was happening. He was completely grossed out by the used diaper he had been taped into; he could feel the cool wetness against his skin and whilst every neuron in his brain told him to rip it off and throw it away, but he couldn’t move a muscle. It seemed like Aaron had gone crazy. Even as Stefan continued to remain motionless, his friend was taking more photos. Aaron scrolled through the photos and chuckled. He even leaned down to show some to Stefan, leaving him to see his prone form, completely vulnerable to the man he had thought was his friend. His eyes focused on the diaper, the discoloured padding and wetness indicator making him feel nauseous. At first Stefan was certain that as soon as he was able to move, he would get dressed and get out of there, run away and never look back to his clearly insane former friend, but the more he thought about it, the more Stefan realised that running away really wasn’t an option. Aaron had photos of him, and they could do a lot of damage if they were shown to Stefan’s family and his friends back at college. How on Earth would he explain this madness? Stefan’s mind was reeling with the possibilities. His parents weren’t the most conservative people in the world, but he wouldn’t describe them as liberal either. They might disown him or kick him out of the house. His friends would surely ghost him, hell, the college might drop him altogether. If he could’ve shuddered, he would’ve done. He was trapped. Even when he had control of his body again, he was stuck until Aaron deleted those photos and let him go. It wasn’t long until Aaron was sitting back on the inflatable bed and idly scrolling through his phone. Stefan noticed that he crinkled as he moved, his diaper remaining fresh and dry, just as he wanted. It was difficult to say exactly how much time passed; it felt like hours to Stefan who remained completely helpless. Eventually, he heard footsteps approaching the bedroom door and his heartrate sped up as he strained his eyes to see the entrance to the room. That was until Aaron reached up and turned Stefan’s head, so he was looking at the wall, his eyes hidden from the room. “Aaron?” Vince called out with a knock on the door. “Come in.” Aaron replied. “Hey, I was just about to do breakfast and…” Vince froze. “What’s up?” Aaron asked innocently. Stefan couldn’t see what was happening in the room, only hear as Aaron got to his feet. His diaper crinkled loudly, Stefan assumed it must’ve been on display, apparently he had no problem with his dad seeing him like that. Stefan was once again left thinking that this was one seriously messed up family. “I had no idea.” Vincent said. He had lowered his voice a bit, perhaps thinking that Stefan was still asleep, “You should’ve told me that he needed diapers as well.” “I didn’t know.” Aaron replied in a similarly quiet voice. “Well, it certainly looks like it was a good thing he was wearing one.” Vincent chuckled, “He really soaked it!” Stefan could feel himself blushing. He wanted to scream that he hadn’t done it, that he hadn’t wet himself at all. He would’ve jumped out of his skin if he’d had the ability to move, a hand cupped the wet diaper and pressed gently upwards against his body, squeezing out some of Aaron’s urine where it ran against his skin. “With what he’s done to this, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s never used a potty before.” Vincent commented with another small chuckle, “He makes your accidents look tiny in comparison.” Stefan felt the hand leave him but wished it was all over. He couldn’t believe he was being talked about like he was, he hadn’t wet the bed in living memory and now he had his ex-best friend’s dad mocking him as if he was some big overgrown baby. “Speaking of…” Aaron said, a definite note of pride in his voice. Stefan didn’t hear another voice, but he did hear a footstep and then the sound of rustling. It didn’t take a genius to work out that Aaron was having his diaper checked. Of course it was still dry, Stefan wasn’t a bed wetter after all, despite what Vincent now thought. “Dry as a bone.” Vincent said happily, “Well done. Proud of you, son.” “Thanks dad.” Aaron replied. “Keep it up and maybe we can see about getting you some pull-ups like your brother.” Vincent continued, “Anyway, breakfast is ready if either of you want any, I’ll leave before Soggy Stefan wakes up, don’t want to embarrass the poor guy.” If Vincent only knew how mortified Stefan already was. He had his eyes squeezed shut and prayed the nickname “Soggy Stefan” wasn’t going to stick. He heard the door open and then close again a minute later. For a few seconds he thought he was alone, until Aaron’s hand turned his head back to face him. “Did you hear that?” Aaron said with raised eyebrows and a big smile, “It’s already working! With your help, I’ll be out of these diapers in no time.” Stefan could do nothing but stare daggers at the man who was summarily humiliating him for his own gain. He did all he could and closed his eyes. Aaron laughed and stood up, he announced he was going to down to breakfast and that Stefan was unlikely to go anywhere until he got back. Stefan prayed Aaron was wrong, but as the door closed behind him and he was left in the silent bedroom he could only wait and hope it would all be over soon. ---  If you enjoyed this preview and would like to read the full story you can find it EXCLUSIVELY at:  https://reamstories.com/page/lpjgftb4y2/story/mjjtjaatfbbd75 https://subscribestar.adult/posts/2250073

There's only so much I can say this morning. A typical morning, day before Christmas, not working today, and I am sitting here in a wet and messy Crinklz Aquanaut diaper. I am not incontinent so when I wet my diaper in bed I know that I am wetting and I love the warmth spreading in my diaper, then I simply fall back to sleep. When I get out of bed, I am "trained" to go poopie in my diapie within 10-15 minutes. I relaxed in the kitchen while getting coffee and checking emails on my phone and in such a natural way, I went potty in my diaper. Feeling my diaper get full, warm, and squishy settling in the bottom of my diaper, nestled and warm against my perineum made me tremble with pleasure. I don't ejaculate, but the psychophysiological catharsis of pooping my diaper is like an orgasm. Sitting here is soooo warm and squishy with no immediate plans to change my messy diaper. Thank goodness for the Vaseline and J&J Baby Lotion I spread over my diaper area before bedtime. Fortunately, I don't mind changing and cleaning up, simply a perfunctory responsibility that only takes me a few minutes to get clean and fresh, smelling so sweet with another application of baby lotion, and a sprinkle of baby powder in a fresh pristine diaper destined to get wet during the day often without my wife knowing that I am wet. No more poopie diapers, however, because my wife's nose is too sensitive and our boundary is poopie diapers in solitude out of courtesy. How do I feel? 

Florida sunshine, open roads, and a decision that’s about far more than horsepower pull Sally back into orbit around home as a simple errand turns quietly momentous. What starts as helping her father choose a sensible car becomes a reckoning with who they are now, who they’re becoming, and where they belong—father and daughter circling sleek machines, unspoken emotions, and the thrill of something new waiting just ahead. Between polished showrooms and palm-lined streets, Sally finds herself caught between past and future, responsibility and temptation, realizing that moving home isn’t just about a house or a set of keys. It’s about choosing what kind of life fits—and who gets to ride along.   Chapter 139 – Choosing Cars Bridget finished her circuit of the bedroom with the decorator—pillows lifted, fabrics approved, a final nod at the bath fixtures—then turned just in time to catch the unmistakable gleam in Sally’s eyes. “Oh no,” Bridget said, already smiling. “I know that look.” Sally froze mid-bounce. “What look?” “The one that says you’re about to abandon me for something with an engine,” Bridget replied dryly, folding her arms. “You’re far too eager to ‘help’ your father.” Adrian lifted his hands in mock surrender. “In my defense, she’s volunteered.” “More like ordered it,” Bridget shot back, amused. “Do you think I haven’t noticed you scrolling car listings at night? On our honeymoon?” Adrian pressed his lips together, caught. “Those were Connecticut cars,” he said carefully. “Florida is a whole different ballgame.” “At least you don’t need winter tires,” Sally added, very pleased with herself. “Or to argue about storage. Or battery trickle chargers. Or—” “A car lover’s dream come true,” Adrian sighed happily. “No seasonal exile. No hibernation.” Bridget laughed, then grew mock-serious. “My only condition is simple. It fits the three of us. Comfortably. And an extra passenger, when life happens.” “So,” Adrian said, feigning a wince, “no 911.” “No 911,” Bridget confirmed. “Maybe later, honey.” She leaned in and kissed him, soft and familiar. “Later.” Sally clapped once. “This is happening.” Bridget shook her head fondly. “Go. Both of you. I’ll be with the decorator.” She nodded toward the driveway, where a sleek Tesla waited. “We’ll be shopping for furniture and things that don’t make vroom-vroom noises.” As Bridget disappeared down the drive with the decorator, Adrian lingered a moment, watching her go, then turned to Sally with a conspiratorial grin. “Lead the way, chauffeur.” Sally beamed as he slid into the passenger seat of her Fiesta. She adjusted the mirrors with exaggerated seriousness while Adrian reached over to set the GPS on her phone, tapping in the address with care. “Seatbelt,” he reminded gently. She clicked it in place. “Don’t worry. I’m a professional now.” Adrian chuckled, settling back. “Then let’s go find your father a sensible family sports car.” Sally started the engine, smiling to herself. Florida sunlight, open roads, and a shared secret between a daughter and her dad—this was already her favorite kind of errand. -- The drive took just over half an hour, the kind of pleasant stretch where traffic thinned and conversation filled the space instead. Sally drove with relaxed confidence now, one hand light on the wheel, the other resting near the shifter. Adrian watched her with quiet pride. “Mercedes or BMW,” he said at last, as if declaring the only two reasonable choices in the universe. “Everything else is… noise.” “No Bentleys?” Sally teased. He snorted. “I don’t need to announce my arrival from three zip codes away.” “And Alfa Romeo?” she pressed. “Temperamental,” he replied firmly. “I like my cars like my watches. Beautiful, precise, and not in therapy.” Sally laughed as she pulled into the Mercedes dealership. The building was all glass and brushed steel, pristine to the point of intimidation. Sally parked her Fiesta neatly in the front lot, well within the lines, and cut the engine. “Well,” she said, upbeat. “Here we are.” Inside, the air felt cool and faintly perfumed. Polished floors. Spotlights aimed like interrogation lamps. A few salespeople glanced their way—at Adrian, then at Sally, then, unmistakably, back out the window toward the parking lot. No one approached. They wandered among E-Classes and EQ models, Adrian’s hands clasped behind his back, his expression politely neutral. Sally read window stickers, raised an eyebrow at a few prices, and waited. Even the AMG GT four door looked out of place. Like a slap on the face. The wrong kind. Minutes passed. A saleswoman eventually drifted over, enthusiasm clearly rationed. “Let me know if you have any questions,” she said, already halfway turned away. Adrian murmured, “I think I do.” “Oh?” she said, brightening just a fraction. “Yes,” he replied calmly. “Why I feel like I’m inconveniencing you.” She blinked. “I—well—here’s my card,” she recovered, sliding it toward Sally. “Call if you’d like to schedule a test drive.” Sally took it with a polite smile and tucked it into her pocket. “Thank you.” They walked out in silence. Once back in the Fiesta, Adrian exhaled. “No.” “That bad?” Sally asked, pulling out of the lot. “It wasn’t the cars,” he said. “It was the feeling. Like I was auditioning to be allowed to buy one.” Sally grinned. “Welcome to my world. Want to try BMW?” He nodded. “Yes. But properly.” He pulled out his phone and called Priya, voice efficient and calm. “Hi. Quick favor. I’d like an appointment at the BMW dealership near Coral Gables. Today. Someone senior. Yes, we’re on our way.” He ended the call and glanced at Sally. “I don’t mind being ignored. I do mind wasting time.” Sally shifted gears smoothly. “Don’t worry. They’ll be expecting us.” Adrian smiled, settling back into the seat. “That’s my girl.” The Fiesta merged back into traffic, sunlight flashing across the windshield—headed somewhere that, already, felt more promising. -- The contrast was immediate. Before Sally had even finished easing the Fiesta into the BMW dealership driveway, a man in a tailored dark suit stepped forward, hand already raised in greeting. Another followed, opening doors with practiced ease. “Mr. Weiss, welcome,” the first said warmly, as if they’d been expecting him all morning. “And you must be Sally.” Sally blinked. “I am,” she said, mildly amused. “If you’d like, we can valet your car,” the man added, glancing at the Fiesta—not with judgment, but with professional courtesy. “Complimentary, of course.” Sally looked at her father. Adrian’s eyebrow lifted a fraction. “Why not?” he said. “She’s driven enough for today.” Sally handed over the keys, half expecting a joke, but the valet accepted them with a respectful nod, as if being entrusted with a Ferrari. Inside, the showroom felt different. Less sterile. More intentional. Wood accents softened the glass and steel. Coffee appeared without being requested. Names were exchanged, hands shaken, pleasantries made. “This way,” said their guide—Marcus, according to his discreet lapel pin. “I think we have something that might interest you.” They walked past tidy rows of sedans and SUVs, Adrian attentive but reserved, Sally drifting just behind him, hands clasped behind her back the way she did when she was observing rather than participating. And then Adrian stopped. He didn’t say anything at first. Just stopped. The car sat slightly apart from the others, angled as if it had chosen its own position. Carbon Black Metallic—deep, almost liquid, shifting between ink and graphite under the lights. Black and silver wheels, sharp and unapologetic. The stance was athletic without being aggressive. Confident. Controlled. Sally felt it before she saw it fully. “Oh,” she breathed. Adrian stepped closer, eyes narrowing—not critically, but appreciatively. “M5,” he said quietly. Marcus smiled. “Competition package. Latest model. Twin-turbo V8. All-wheel drive, but with a rear bias. Civilized when you want it to be. Wild when you don’t.” Adrian circled the car slowly, fingertips hovering just above the paint. “Carbon black,” he murmured. “Always my weakness.” Sally peered inside through the open door. The interior was a precise balance—white leather seats with black accents, stitching subtle, purposeful. No excess. No shouting. “This,” she said thoughtfully, “is you.” Adrian glanced at her, surprised. “Is it?” She nodded. “Fast, but not flashy. Serious. But you could still take Mom and me to dinner without feeling ridiculous.” He laughed softly. “High praise.” Marcus gestured toward the driver’s seat. “Would you like to sit in it?” Adrian hesitated—just a second—then did. The moment he settled behind the wheel, something in his posture shifted. His shoulders relaxed. His hands found the wheel as if they’d been waiting for it. Sally leaned against the doorframe, smiling to herself. “Well,” she said lightly, “I think we found the family sports car. It’s huge in the back.” Adrian looked at her over his shoulder, a spark in his eyes she hadn’t seen in a while. “I think,” he replied, “it found us.” -- Adrian stayed seated for a long moment, hands resting lightly on the steering wheel, eyes fixed forward as if the showroom had dissolved around him. “You know,” he said at last, almost to himself, “I have spent my entire adult life buying the wrong cars.” Sally tilted her head. “This sounds promising.” He glanced back at her, one corner of his mouth lifting. “Every sports car I’ve ever owned had two seats. Two. As if I were permanently auditioning for a midlife crisis.” “Speed,” Sally supplied. “Aggression. Rearview-mirror trauma.” “Exactly,” Adrian said, pointing at her. “Cars that announce themselves before they arrive. Cars that make promises they fully intend to keep.” He shifted in the seat, thoughtful now. “Five-door cars were… tools. For meetings. Airports. Zurich traffic. Chauffeurs. The S-Class. Necessary, but soulless.” Marcus pretended not to listen, which meant he was listening very closely. Adrian exhaled and looked around the cabin again, slower this time. “And then somehow,” he continued, “I get married.” Sally’s smile softened. “And suddenly,” he said, “I don’t want to be alone in the car anymore.” That landed quietly. “I want Bridget next to me,” he went on. “I want conversation. Music. Arguments about directions.” He paused, then glanced toward the back seat. “And I want you in the back, comfortable, safe, complaining about my driving.” “Generous of you,” Sally said dryly. He laughed. “This is not a compromise,” he said, surprising even himself. “This is an upgrade.” Sally stepped closer, resting her hand on the door frame. “You’re still getting speed. And power. And attitude.” “Yes,” Adrian agreed. “But now I get it without sacrificing the people I want in the car with me.” He looked at her then, really looked. “That feels… new.” Sally’s voice softened. “That feels like family.” Adrian nodded once, decisive. He turned back to Marcus. “Let’s talk specifications,” he said calmly. “I think my two-seater phase is officially over.” Sally grinned. Somewhere behind the glass and steel and polished floors, a chapter closed—not with regret, but with room for three. -- As Adrian and Marcus slipped into a quiet, numbers-heavy conversation about specifications, delivery windows, and paint protection, Sally’s attention wandered. It wasn’t boredom. It was gravity. She had drifted a few steps away when she noticed it—parked just to the side of her father’s M5, close enough to feel intentional. Alpine White. Clean, sharp, unapologetic. Where the M5 felt composed and authoritative, this one looked like it wanted to move even while standing still. She frowned slightly. “Oh.” This corner of the showroom was different. No polite sedans. No compromises. Just M cars, lined up like athletes stretching before a race. Sally stepped closer, drawn in despite herself. “M4 Competition Coupe,” a voice said pleasantly behind her. She turned to find a woman about her mother’s age, crisp blazer, low heels, calm confidence. Her name tag read Karen. “Do you want a closer look?” Karen asked, already reaching for the door handle with practiced ease. Sally hesitated. “I mean… sure. But full disclosure, I only have a learner’s permit.” Karen smiled, unfazed. “Then we’ll admire responsibly.” The door opened, and Sally inhaled before she could stop herself. The interior was striking—Silverstone and black full Merino leather, cool and modern, contrasted by carbon fiber trim that felt more aerospace than automotive. “These wheels,” Karen said, gesturing outward, “are the forged 826M dual-spoke set. Nineteen in front, twenty in back. Staggered. High-performance tires.” Sally nodded slowly, fingers brushing the door frame. “It’s… very white. I like it.” “Alpine White,” Karen corrected gently. “Timeless. Aggressive without being loud.” Sally leaned in further. “Carbon ceramic brakes?” “Yes,” Karen said, impressed. “Most people your age ask about the horsepower first.” Sally glanced at her. “I already know it’s more than I should be allowed near.” Karen laughed. “Fair.” Sally slid into the driver’s seat before she fully realized she was doing it. It fit her. Not literally—she had to scoot the seat forward—but emotionally. The wheel felt alive under her hands. “This,” she said quietly, “would absolutely tempt me out of my Mustang.” Karen raised an eyebrow. “Mustang?” “Future Mustang,” Sally clarified. “V8. Someday.” “And what do you drive now?” Karen asked, curious. Sally looked up at her, almost sheepish. “A Ford Fiesta. Manual.” Karen froze. Actually froze. “…I’m sorry,” she said carefully. “A manual Fiesta?” Sally nodded. “Light blue. Very obedient.” Karen stared at her for a beat, then laughed outright. “You’re full of surprises.” Sally grinned. “I like learning things the hard way.” “That car,” Karen said, nodding at the M4, “would not be forgiving.” “I know,” Sally said. “That’s part of the appeal.” “Well,” Karen said, leaning casually against the door, “when the time comes, this one has the M Driver’s Package. Track-ready. Respect-demanding.” Sally sighed, hands still on the wheel. “Dangerous information.” “That’s my job.” “Excuse me.” Adrian’s voice cut in, dry but amused. Sally looked up to find her father standing there, arms crossed, one eyebrow lifted in classic parental disbelief. “Are you… sitting in an M4?” he asked. Sally didn’t move. “Just looking.” “At a car you cannot legally drive,” he added. Karen stepped back smoothly. “Your daughter has excellent taste.” “I’m discovering that,” Adrian said, then looked at Sally. “We are buying one car today.” Sally pouted. “I know.” He leaned closer, lowering his voice conspiratorially. “But tomorrow is a different day.” She brightened instantly. He straightened and addressed Karen. “She’s not wrong, though. That one’s dangerous.” Karen smiled. “They usually are.” Adrian shook his head fondly. “Come on, future race driver. Let me finish my grown-up purchase.” Sally slid out of the M4, giving it one last lingering look. “We’ll talk later,” she murmured to it. The car, predictably, said nothing. But it waited. -- By the time the last signature was placed and the final nods exchanged, the decision felt inevitable rather than impulsive. “It’ll be ready in a couple of days,” Marcus said smoothly. “Final prep, detailing, registration. We’ll deliver it directly to the house.” Adrian smiled, satisfied in a quiet, contained way. “Perfect.” Sally blinked. “That’s… the same timeline as the house.” Adrian glanced at her. “Apparently, Florida believes in momentum.” They stepped back into the afternoon light, where Sally’s Ford Fiesta waited at the curb—freshly washed, tires gleaming, looking almost proud of itself. The valet returned the keys with an exaggerated little bow. “She’s all yours.” Sally caught them neatly and grinned. “Still the underdog.” Adrian slid into the passenger seat, adjusting himself with mock ceremony. “For now. Don’t let the M4 hear you say that.” Sally started the engine, the familiar clutch-and-key routine grounding her instantly. As she pulled away, Adrian checked his phone. “Message from Theresa,” he said. “We’re meeting your mother at the Biltmore Hotel for dinner.” Sally glanced at the clock on the dash. “It’s barely five.” “Exactly,” Adrian replied. “Which means we’re early.” A pause. Then a smile. “Theresa suggests a staging area,” he added. “Staging area?” Sally echoed. “Her words,” Adrian said, amused. “The Shops at Merrick Park.” Sally’s eyes lit up. “Window-shopping?” “Walking,” Adrian corrected. “Stretching legs. Pretending we’re not killing time.” “And maybe gelato,” Sally added innocently. Adrian sighed, already defeated. “This is how it starts, isn’t it.” Sally eased the Fiesta toward Coral Gables, the road smooth, the light golden, the day still generously unfinished. Ahead of them: palm-lined streets, polished storefronts, and the pleasant luxury of nowhere urgent to be— just father and daughter, a new car on order, a new home waiting, and time to spare. -- They stayed two nights at the Biltmore, and somehow those two nights felt like a pause the universe had intentionally built in for them. The hotel wrapped itself around Sally the way old places sometimes do—cool stone floors, high arched ceilings, the echo of history softened by palm trees and sun. The air was warm outside, steady and forgiving, but inside her room the air conditioning hummed low and constant. She slept deeply, cocooned in crisp sheets, the kind of sleep that came without bracing for cold mornings. Days drifted. Lazy breakfasts on the terrace where the light filtered through bougainvillea. Sally swam in the pool without counting laps, the water warm enough that it felt indulgent. She floated on her back, eyes closed, listening to distant voices and the rustle of palm fronds. “This is cheating,” she said one afternoon, toweling off. Theresa lounged a few chairs away, stretched out and sun-warmed, her sunglasses pushed up into her hair. No cane in sight. She’d traded it for a simple one-piece swimsuit and a slow, deliberate confidence that came from muscles remembering their job. “Enjoy it. I’ll make you pay once we move into the house.” Sally groaned. “I knew there’d be a catch.” “You’ll thank me later.” The nights were slow and kind. Family dinners. Long conversations. The feeling that nobody was rushing her toward anything—not recovery, not decisions, not adulthood. And then, on the last morning, the sound of something unmistakable rolled through the circular drive. Low. Controlled. Confident. Sally looked up from her coffee just as a flatbed tow truck eased into view near the valet station. “Oh,” Adrian said calmly, setting his cup down. Sally stood. The cover came off with deliberate care, revealing the carbon black metallic BMW M5 beneath the Florida sun. The paint shifted between shadow and light, every line precise. The car was lowered gently to the pavement, wheels catching the light like they’d been waiting for it. Sally’s hands flew to her mouth. “It’s real.” Adrian didn’t even try to hide his smile. “Very real.” She bounced once on the balls of her feet. “Can we—” He was already reaching for the keys. “Let’s go for a ride,” he said. The valet opened the door. Adrian slid into the driver’s seat, familiar already. Sally settled into the passenger side, running her fingers along the stitching, breathing in that new-car scent mixed with possibility. The engine came alive—not loud, not showy. Just… sure. They pulled away from the Biltmore slowly, then out onto the road, the car gliding like it belonged there. Sally looked out the window as the streets unfurled, palms giving way to canopy, traffic thinning, the world softening. “Where to?” she asked, though she already knew. Adrian glanced at her, eyes warm. “Home.” Home to Old Cutler. Home to Solano Prado. Home sweet home. -- Thanksgiving crept in quietly, without ceremony, settling over the house the way warm light did in the afternoons—soft, reflective, unannounced. Sally was still learning the rhythms of the place. Not because it felt foreign—quite the opposite. The house had absorbed her faster than she’d expected. Too fast, according to her mother. She was barefoot in the kitchen, hair still sleep-tousled, a wet diaper and an oversized t-shirt brushing her thighs as she poured coffee. Comfortable. Unselfconscious. Entirely at ease. Bridget paused mid-reach for a mug and raised an eyebrow. “I expected you to feel at home,” she said lightly, “but not this quickly.” Sally handed her a cup and tugged the hem of her shirt down with a shrug. “Dad’s not back until this afternoon,” she said. “And it’s Saturday.” Bridget smiled into her coffee. The kind of smile that carried relief in it. “Well,” she said, leaning back against the counter, “since it’s Saturday… there’s the yard to hose down. Your car needs washing. Mine too, while you’re at it.” She ticked each item off with her fingers, mock-serious. Sally laughed. “Wow. I move into my dream house and immediately get assigned manual labor.” “You wanted responsibility,” Bridget reminded her gently. “No pampered-princess regression.” “I never said I wanted chores,” Sally countered, grinning. Bridget pretended to think. “I could call Jana. Have her come supervise. Maybe act bossy.” “Help?” Sally scoffed. “You mean supervise and intimidate. Let her enjoy her Saturday. She’s taking Theresa shopping, then meeting friends for dinner.” Bridget studied her daughter for a moment, warmth settling in her chest. Sally spoke of the people around her not as staff, not as obligations—but as part of her world. As friends. “All right,” Bridget conceded. “Just you and the hose, then.” Half an hour later, Sally was outside in cutoff shorts, a tank top, thong sandals, and a blue J. Marks cap pulled low against the sun. The stone yard glistened as she sprayed it down, clearing leaves and debris left by the night’s rain. Water pooled briefly, then disappeared into the seams of the stone. She worked unhurriedly, humming to herself, pausing now and then to admire the way the light caught on the house—her house—before turning back to the task at hand. It wasn’t glamorous. It was perfect. -- There was something oddly meditative about washing cars. Sally had always liked it—the rhythm, the repetition, the sense that you could make something visibly better with patience and soap. It wasn’t easy, exactly. She was still on the shorter side, and when it came to the roofline, she fetched the small folding stool without a shred of shame. Practicality beat pride every time. She climbed up, sponge in hand, and leaned over carefully. Soapy water ran down her arm, slipped past her elbow, soaked her armpit. She flinched once, then laughed at herself. At least it was cool. Florida heat had a way of making even inconvenience feel welcome if it came with relief. Her own car was manageable. The Fiesta felt almost friendly—compact, cooperative. A quick rinse, a careful scrub, wheels last. Inside, she barely needed to do much. A fast vacuum, a wipe of the dashboard, special attention to the windshield. Clean glass mattered. Visibility mattered. Her mother’s GLE, on the other hand, was a different beast. “This thing is basically a condo on wheels,” Sally muttered, stepping back to take it in. She attacked it methodically, moving from panel to panel, climbing up, climbing down, hose looping around her ankles. By the time she reached the rear, she was damp, warm, and strangely content. Her mind drifted, as it always did when her hands were busy. Next week. Birthdays. Clara was easy. Small, tasteful, no spectacle. Her family liked things quiet—cake, friends, maybe a backyard dinner. No fuss. Katrina, however, was a different universe entirely. Katrina lived for drama. For entrances. For chandeliers and whispered excitement. For moments that lingered. Sally smiled to herself as she rinsed the hood. Mayer Delibes. She still couldn’t quite believe she’d pulled that off. The Colombian pop star had come into her orbit through foundation work—polished, charming, serious about philanthropy beneath the stage lights. When he’d casually mentioned wanting to expand his involvement in Colombia and Central America, Sally had seen the opening instantly. One careful conversation. A few discreet calls. Coordination with Katrina’s parents, sworn secrecy. Clara, when she’d found out, had nearly choked. “No drama for mine,” she’d pleaded. “Please. Just bring a present.” And then there was Amélie. Editor of SYLVIA. Always impeccably informed. Always one step ahead. She’d leaned in conspiratorially over a call. A few select press contacts. Very controlled. Just outside the hotel. Only if Sally agreed to a brief appearance. Sally rinsed the soap away and leaned against the car, hose dangling from her hand. The price of friendship, she thought. She shook her head, smiling despite herself, as sunlight glinted off the freshly cleaned paint. -- Sally hosed down the last stretch of her mother’s GLE and stepped back, watching the water bead and slide off the paint in clean, obedient rivulets. She shut off the hose and reached for the drying cloth, working it over the hood in long, careful strokes, letting the fabric drink in the remaining moisture. Her thoughts drifted again, uninvited. Erika. Milano. The word alone carried a different weight—stone streets, sharp winter air, espresso taken standing up, voices that rose and fell with feeling. Erika herself came into Sally’s mind just as clearly: expressive hands, quick laughter, the way she spoke as if every sentence mattered. Thanksgiving, then Milan. Just a weekend, officially. A short visit. Nothing dramatic. Except it wasn’t nothing. Last June, Erika had canceled her birthday party. The party Sally had been flying to. The flight she never arrived on. No candles. No crowd. No music. Not even a quiet dinner at home with a brave smile in photos that never quite reached her eyes. Sally pressed the cloth harder against the glass, jaw tightening. She owed Erika more than a visit. She was going to give her a birthday. Not belated—restored. A surprise, layered carefully so it didn’t feel like pity or obligation. Just joy. Celebration. Presence. She was already coordinating quietly with Erika’s parents, exchanging messages across time zones, looping in her brother with strict instructions about secrecy. Every detail had to feel effortless, natural—like Sally had simply shown up, and happiness had followed. The cloth slid over the door panel. Clean. Finished. Sally stepped back and surveyed the car, sunlight catching on the polished surface. She smiled to herself, a small, resolved smile. Some things couldn’t be undone. But some could be answered. And she was learning, slowly, how to do that. -- Sally stepped out of the shower, skin still warm, hair wrapped loosely in a towel. For a moment she lingered, tempted by the memory of the pool—sunlight on water, the slow rhythm of floating—but the clock on her nightstand pulled her back to reality. Today mattered. She was driving to Opa-locka. With her mom as copilot. Her dad, coming in from Dubai. That thought alone sent a little current of excitement through her. She dressed quickly—jeans, a soft T-shirt, Converse All-star—comfortable, uncomplicated. As she moved through the hallway, the house smelled like home in a way it hadn’t yet learned to do consistently. Butter. Tomato. Cheese. Lunch. In the kitchen, Bridget stood at the stove, stirring with the calm efficiency of someone who enjoyed feeding people she loved. A pot of tomato soup simmered gently, steam curling upward. On the counter sat a generous bowl of mac and cheese, still glossy and molten, dusted with shaved Danish cheese like a final indulgent touch. Sally slid onto a stool and reached for a spoon. “I hope Dad’s not completely wrecked,” she said between bites. “Dubai’s brutal. What is it—fifteen hours?” Bridget nodded. “He left just after midnight our time. Morning over there. He said he’d try to sleep.” Sally hummed thoughtfully. “Flying with the sun helps. Jet lag’s less vicious that way.” Her mother smiled at her. “You sound like a consultant.” “Occupational hazard,” Sally said lightly. They ate in companionable quiet for a moment, until Sally slowed, then glanced up with studied innocence. “So,” she began, casual to the point of suspicious, “if we’re heading north anyway… do you think there’s time to stop somewhere? I heard there are some interesting outlets on the way.” Bridget’s eyebrow rose. “Oh, I’m sure you did.” Sally grinned, busted. “I may have… looked.” “Coordinates and traffic patterns?” Bridget asked dryly. “…Maybe.” Her mother laughed, shaking her head. “You are far too prepared for someone who claims spontaneity.” Sally took another bite, then ventured, “We won’t be late. I mapped it. Efficiently.” “Mmhmm.” Bridget wiped her hands on a towel and turned fully toward her. “Well. Let’s see how you handle a change, then.” Sally paused. “A change?” Bridget picked up her keys from the counter and let them dangle casually between her fingers. “You’re not taking the Fiesta.” Sally’s eyes widened. “What—really?” “You’ve earned more trust than you think,” Bridget said calmly. “Between Adrian, Theresa, and my own eyes, I’m impressed.” Sally sat up straighter. “So…” “So,” her mother continued, “you’ll drive my car.” Sally’s mouth fell open. “Your car.” “Yes, my car.” Bridget smiled, amused and proud all at once. “I want to see how it grows on you. Different size. Different feel. More responsibility.” Sally’s excitement was immediate, barely contained. “I’ll be careful. Extra careful. I promise.” “I know you will,” Bridget said softly. “And I’ll be right there.” Sally exhaled, smiling wide. Jana’s words echoed in her head—diplomacy with truckers and moms. She grabbed her water bottle, keys already warm in her palm. “Okay,” she said, steadying herself. “Let’s go pick up Dad.” -- Sally was already in the driver’s seat, practically humming with energy. She adjusted the seat with small, precise movements, testing the distance to the pedals, the angle of her knees, the way her arms settled on the wheel. She rolled her shoulders once, then once more, checking for tension. Mirrors. Click. Perfect. Apple CarPlay lit up the dash. Waze appeared. Her acoustic playlist queued quietly in the background, low enough to feel more like atmosphere than music. She sat back and waited. Patiently. Mostly. Inside, she could imagine her mother moving around, the unmistakable rhythm of last-minute decisions. Sally smiled to herself. Bridget always dressed like she might run into someone important, even when running errands. Sally, meanwhile, was content in blue jeans, a soft T-shirt, and her Converse All-Stars. Saturday uniform. Her stainless-steel Casio sat snug on her wrist, familiar and grounding. Memories of Zurich. Good memories. Finally, the front door opened. Bridget stepped out, bag on her shoulder, paused, went back a step, then returned again. She climbed into the passenger seat, settled, fished through her bag, and triumphantly produced her sunglasses. She slipped them on. Sally mirrored her, sliding on her Ray-Bans and grinning sideways. “Ready?” Bridget asked. Sally nodded, suddenly serious. “Okay,” her mother continued, voice calm but attentive. “This is an automatic. Which means easy does not mean careless. Feather the gas. Always feather it. Just the tip.” She smiled. “And it will… waft.” Sally pressed her lips together, suppressing a laugh. She held the brake, shifted into drive, released slowly. The SUV rolled forward. She tapped the gas lightly. “Cool,” she murmured, more to herself than anyone. They eased out of the driveway, Sally steering with deliberate care, getting a feel for the weight of the car, the responsiveness of the pedals. Everything was smoother than the Fiesta. Softer. More forgiving. She waited for commentary. None came. She glanced sideways. Bridget was watching the road, relaxed. No notes. No corrections. Good sign. They passed the guard post and merged onto Old Cutler Road, sunlight filtering through the trees. Sally navigated the local streets, adjusting to the size of the SUV, enjoying the wide digital display, the quiet hum of the engine. Her mother offered the occasional nudge—gentle, well-timed. “Little more space there.” “Watch that truck.” Sally nodded, unfazed. “Saw it.” The car ahead slowed abruptly. Sally had already eased off the gas, maintaining distance. “Good,” Bridget said simply. Sally smiled, a small surge of pride warming her chest. On the freeway, she engaged cruise control. The car adjusted smoothly, matching speed, keeping its lane. The steering wheel offered subtle resistance, like a hand guiding rather than correcting. “Oh,” Sally breathed. “This is… nice.” “It helps,” Bridget agreed. “But don’t let it think for you.” “I won’t,” Sally said, eyes steady behind her lenses. “I’m still here.” The mall appeared ahead. Traffic slowed. Sally took a breath. Parking. She signaled, spotted a space, and eased in, correcting once, then again. The SUV slid neatly between the lines. She put it in park. Silence. Then Bridget turned to her, smiling. “Well done.” Sally exhaled, laughing softly. “Okay. I like this car.” -- Even after only two hours, Sally and Bridget managed to fill the GLE’s trunk with shopping bags stacked like careful evidence of good intentions gone slightly off the rails. Sally claimed she did not need new Converse. Her current pair had character, thank you very much. But twenty minutes into the shoe store, seated on the low bench with a mirror angled just right, resistance gave way to logic. And comfort. And color. “Just try them,” Bridget had said mildly. The salesman, overhearing the word tennis shoes, materialized with the precision of a magician. Soft soles. Lightweight builds. A spread of colors that somehow all looked right. Sally surrendered. “I hate that I love these,” she muttered, admiring her feet. “You don’t hate it at all,” Bridget replied. By the time the last receipt was tucked away, Sally’s phone buzzed again. She opened her flight tracker and watched the little plane icon inch closer to Florida airspace. “Okay,” she sighed, reluctantly. “We should go.” They left the mall just as the sun began to lower, the drive to Opa-locka smooth and purposeful. Sally checked the tracker twice more, then once again as the FBO came into view. The private terminal sat apart from the chaos of commercial travel, polished and discreet. As Sally parked among a row of gleaming vehicles, she glanced around and felt a quiet relief. Good call not bringing the Fiesta. Inside, the atmosphere shifted the moment Adrian’s name was mentioned. Polite efficiency sharpened into attentive care. “Oh—Mr. Weiss?” “Yes, of course. Right this way.” They were ushered into a private waiting room with soft lighting and wide windows. Drinks appeared. Snacks followed. Despite Sally’s polite refusal, a chilled bucket of assorted cans and a bowl of chips were placed within easy reach. “Just in case,” the attendant said kindly. Sally watched her leave, then reached for a can. “I wasn’t hungry five minutes ago,” she admitted. Bridget smiled. “You are now.” Sally popped it open, eyes flicking back to the window as the distant hum of engines carried through the air.  Sally moved to the window without realizing she’d stood up. She rested her palms lightly against the cool glass, eyes fixed on the runway beyond the tarmac. Then she saw it. The matte gray Gulfstream G700 cut across her field of vision with unmistakable authority, sleek and muscular even in deceleration. The engines roared briefly as the thrust reversers deployed, a deep, controlled growl that vibrated through the air and into her chest. Heat shimmered behind the wings as the aircraft slowed, tires gripping the runway with practiced precision. There was something almost intimate about recognizing it—not just another jet, but his. The color. The profile. The way it seemed to own the space it occupied. Sally’s breath caught, not from awe, but from familiarity. She tracked it as it rushed past the window, powerful even in restraint, and felt a quiet, steady warmth settle in her chest. He was here. -- A concierge slipped into the room with practiced quiet, his posture already deferential. “If I may have the car keys, madam. We’ll have Mr. Weiss’s luggage loaded and the vehicle brought around.” Sally startled, then fumbled in her pocket, producing the keys with a touch of ceremony, as if they belonged to her by divine right. She placed them in his palm. The concierge appeared startled as Sally handed him the keys, and accepted them with a slight bow and disappeared. Minutes later, footsteps echoed down the hall. Sally looked up just in time to see her father emerge, jacket draped over his arm, shoulders squared despite the long flight. He looked tired in that specific way only intercontinental travel could produce, but his smile was immediate when he spotted Bridget. They met halfway, her hands already on his coat, his arms closing around her without hesitation. Sally paused, giving them space, watching the embrace with a faint, disbelieving smile. Married. Still married. Still real. Then Adrian turned, and Sally was pulled into a hug just as warm, one hand firm on her back. “How was Dubai?” she asked as they started walking together. “Hot,” Adrian said, deadpan. “Hot and dusty. But glamorous in its own excessive way.” “You should take me someday,” Sally said lightly. “Soon,” he replied. “And you might even enjoy it.” Outside, the GLE waited at the curb, trunk open. Two attendants were attempting to puzzle Adrian’s luggage into the remaining space, negotiating around shopping bags like a complicated game of Tetris. Adrian stopped short. “How did this shopping get here?” he asked, peering inside. “It doesn’t look like mine.” Sally made a face and looked at her mother. Bridget shrugged. “Quick stop at the mall.” Adrian pressed his lips together, a theatrical sigh escaping him. His eyes, however, were amused. “Good thing it was quick.” The attendants managed it at last. The trunk closed with a soft, final click. Sally accepted the keys back and slid into the driver’s seat without comment. Adrian paused, looking at her, then at Bridget. Bridget nodded once. Adrian smiled and climbed into the passenger seat. Bridget settled into the back, comfortable, already relaxed. Adrian buckled in and turned to Sally. “So. I hear you’re proficient with an almost four-hundred-horsepower SUV. Let’s see.” Sally inhaled, hands steady on the wheel. The rain had begun lightly, warm drops streaking across the windshield as she eased onto I-95 southbound. The sky was molten gold and violet, the sun sinking low behind thick clouds. Traffic moved fast but predictably, tires hissing against wet asphalt. Sally adjusted her speed smoothly, eyes scanning mirrors, maintaining distance, her movements controlled and deliberate. She merged cleanly, corrected gently, anticipated brake lights before they flared. Adrian watched her in silence, one eyebrow lifting just slightly. In the back seat, Bridget smiled to herself. Told you so. Sally stayed focused, the road unfolding ahead, rain and light and motion blending into something calm and precise.

Thanks for your feedback. And yes, I could write a lot more chapters, but I like a story to be not too long. Personally, I loose interest in a story after a certain amount of chapters/words. And that's for both writing and reading a story. I rather skip some parts and give it a nice ending... and then move on. 🙂  And yes, I most likely will post some more stories later on, but that takes time.

Not as warm, but low 60's for us.  The wind comes back in the afternoon.  It's normally windy here, but it's been crazy the past few weeks.  Took off a chunk of the hotel's siding.