Trading Post

I have tried them.  They're decent for short time wearing but no more than 2 wettings.  

Now that's some Monday Motivation! Diaper up!

Sorry for the late post. Been really busy with a lot of stuff. Though I finally figured out how to paste Rich Text!   Arc Three: The Calm Chapter 19: Unexpected I am Elyse. The thought surged forth from the depths of my consciousness. For days, I had been adrift in my own body. Yet, as I stepped through the portal, memories rushed back to me. Entering the dimensional tear at Gate 4B was intended to be nearly instantaneous. A mere, seamless blink was all it took to transition from the sterile, brightly lit safety of the Central Earth terminal to the enormous, dystopian halls of Amazonia. It wasn't. The moment my legs pushed through the silvery, liquid-mercury membrane, the physics of the space around us simply ruptured. The shimmering wall of the portal felt like thick, boiling molasses closing over my skin, adhering to the synthetic fibers of my black tracksuit. Then, our forward momentum snapped into a violent, agonizing halt. The 'floor' beneath us collapsed. The seven of us stumbled forward, suddenly weightless and violently disoriented, tumbling into a vast, swirling tubular void. It was an endlessly stretching spatial corridor made of shifting, kaleidoscopic geometry. The atmospheric pressure dropped drastically, stealing the breath straight from my lungs, replacing the sensation of gravity with a sluggish, viscous resistance that made dragging my limbs feel like swimming through warm syrup. "Hold the line!" Veronica’s voice shrieked, slicing through the dizzying hum of the tunnel. Her iridescent dragonfly wings were furiously beating against the lack of air resistance, her pink hair whipping around her face as if caught in a hurricane. "It’s spatial turbulence! The Aether channel hit a massive blockage! Just brace yourselves!" For me, however, bracing wasn't an option. I had been floating near the center of our pathetic, waddling formation. Ever since that fateful nap on the park bench in Kichijōji, my mind had reverted to the simplistic, unquestioning acceptance of a toddler. But spatial turbulence held absolutely no respect for the System. As the corridor shuddered violently around us, the spatial anomaly inadvertently acted like a cosmic vacuum. It latched onto the absurd, ocean-sized excess of Aether that had been inundating my mind and violently sucked it out. It leaked from every pore of my body in a thick, bright pink mist, ripped away by the turbulence. And as the suffocating excess was purged from my cortex, the dam broke. I snapped awake. I sucked in a sharp, horrified gasp of thin air, my eyes flying open. The profound, anesthetizing blanket of sweet stupidity dissolved utterly, leaving behind an agonizingly clear, brilliant lucidity. I was Elyse Aoki. Nineteen years old. Supposedly. Memories collided with the force of a train wreck in the front of my skull. Oh my god... I remembered sliding down the concrete office steps on my heavily padded backside explicitly just to hear the plastic crinkle. I remembered willingly letting an alien baby-voice coo over my scrambled brain. I remembered trading raw, miraculous aetheric magic for a pork bun. But infinitely worse than the memories was the present, visceral, inescapable sensation of my own physical body. My black tracksuit was stretched taut across my hips. With horrifying, hyper-focused sensory clarity, I realized exactly what I was strapped into. It was an oddly big overnight diaper... and it was loaded. The sheer panic of the violent deceleration upon entering the corridor had caused my body to involuntarily release whatever fluid my bladder had been holding, flooding the already strained padding. The diaper felt ready to burst along my inner thighs. The crotch of the diaper was so thoroughly engorged, so heavily sagging with the sheer weight of urine. If there had been gravity in this turbulent void, it would have dragged down to my knees. Added to this inescapable physical weight was the smell. The distinctly sharp, acrid musk of heavily saturated pee practically fermented in the airtight seal of my garments. "Oh my gosh," I whispered. My actual voice cracked, sounding frail, raspy, and profoundly terrified. "Oh my god. I'm… I'm sitting in it. I shat in the park and I didn’t… I never…" I instinctively clamped my legs together in a desperate bid for some semblance of modesty, only to feel the hot, swollen diaper between my thighs violently resist the motion with a loud, squishing crinkle. The sound echoed in my own ears like a sound of pure humiliation. "What…" I gasped, my chest heaving as tears of absolute mortification prickled my eyes. "What the hell is happening?!" Hearing my panicked screaming, Veronica’s head whipped toward me so fast her neck popped. The fairy's augmented sight zeroed in on my face, and I saw the horror dawn in her enormous eyes. Several glowing readouts blinked aggressively above her head. Veronica's face flushed a deep, embarrassed shade of magenta as the realization hit her. I hadn't been a natural airhead toddler this entire time! When she had initiated that first, desperate transversal to pull me from my apartment, she had accidentally blasted my brain with the raw, equivalent volume of a star-system's foundational Aether. She had basically drugged me! Oh no, Daddy is going to kill me... Veronica's thought had broadcasted loudly through our shared synapse connection, her wings buzzing with panic. She hurriedly swiped at the air, attempting to dismiss the glaring holographic error windows. "E-Elyse! Sweetie! Don't fret! It's just some mild turbulence, nothing to—" "Quiet, Ronnie. You’re embarrassing yourself." A new voice smoothly severed the panic. Directly ahead of our tumbling formation, the starry fabric of the spatial anomaly simply ripped. A jagged, perfect crack opened in the reality of the tunnel, revealing a pristine, blinding white void beyond. Stepping through the tear, the terrifying zero-gravity environment seemed to instantly stabilize and bow to her presence. The woman possessed a predatory, statuesque grace. She was dressed in a sharply tailored, high-fashion coat that seemed woven from the night sky itself. Her features, which initially blurred as shifting silhouettes, quickly settled into the striking, smirking, devastatingly confident visage of an older woman who knew every secret the universe had to offer. "A-Auntie Aria?!" Veronica squeaked. The fairy instantly halted her frantic hovering, her wings snapping stiffly to her back. Plot, also known to the System as Auntie Aria, looked over our floating mass of petrified, diapered teenage girls. Her perfectly painted lip curled upward in a sneer of pure, unfiltered amusement. Her sharp eyes drifted from Nina, whose thighs were forced apart by the sheer padding between them, down to the sodden sags straining the pants of Mia and Liana. Finally, her gaze settled squarely on me. I was currently wrapping my arms around my head in a state of sheer mental shock. "What an absolutely pathetic, dripping bouquet of failures you've cultivated here, darling," Aria purred. She began striding across the empty, gravity-less void as if carelessly walking down a grand marble staircase, the imaginary clack of her stilettos echoing loudly in our minds. She arrived right in front of the trembling Veronica and raised a single, manicured finger, flicking the fairy hard right in the center of her forehead. "OW!" "You over-juiced her," Aria stated, her tone dripping with disappointment. "Did you skip the orbital transversal seminars again? You placed a mature, fragile consciousness into a localized Aether stream without instituting full monitoring buffers. It's a genuine miracle her cerebral cortex didn't turn to literal mush. You effectively drowned her in Aether." "I was in a hurry!" Veronica whimpered, rubbing her forehead, her pink hair drooping pathetically. "You're sloppy," Aria corrected effortlessly. "But you are also exceedingly fortunate. My arrival halted the transit specifically so we could bypass your profound negligence before this tunnel threw you out of the queue and dumped you into Amazonia completely, embarrassingly defenseless." I finally found my breath. My chest labored against the restrictive bulk around my waist. "Y-You," I stammered, my face burning with a shame so hot it felt like a fever. I clawed weakly at the damp, sagging front of my sweatpants. "Who are you?! Make it stop! Get this... this thing off me!" "Silence, little rabbit," Aria commanded. The words weren't cruel, but they were laced with an absolute authority that demanded immediate compliance. I felt my jaw snap shut against my will. "You are currently masquerading as a native tourist, and right now, your suit is sitting at an estimated 120% saturation level. If you remove that garment, you instantly void the physical barriers that protect you against the Amazonian atmosphere. In fact, all of you need to pay immediate, rapt attention to the ecology of our destination, because your survival entirely depends on it." Aria waved her elegant hand over the cosmos containing us. The walls of the spatial corridor dissolved into an overlay, projecting a staggering, swirling simulation of a green and deep purple miasma floating over an impossibly massive cityscape. "Amazonia," Aria declared, her eyes flashing with a terrible wisdom. "The most robust, titan-class civilization in this clustered quadrant. Most of their populace is delightfully ignorant to the true underpinnings of Reality. But here is the crux of your miserable little lives moving forward: The ambient Aether here? It is not pure. It is heavily contaminated." "Contaminated by what?" Nina choked out. She was shivering as the wet core of her own massive padding cooled menacingly against her skin in the drafty void. "By the collective Will of the population," Aria explained slowly, enunciating her words as if speaking to a classroom of particularly slow toddlers. "The Amazons' psychology is one of overwhelming, oppressive, tyrannical maternal instinct. When you arrive, you may want to cultivate this atmospheric Aether into your cores to refill your energy." Aria's smirk widened into a grin. "But processing that energy comes with a somewhat physiological penalty." Alina pushed her oversized glasses up her slipping nose, a loud squish sounding as she nervously shifted her weight in the mid-air float. "P-Please define… physiological penalty." Aria laughed outright. It was a cold, beautiful sound. "Internal aetheric purification, my dear little scientist. Your biological systems have to act as filters for the 'Will' radiation within the aether before your brains can safely process the raw power." She began to circle us slowly, observing us. "The side effects of this purification cycle? Your bodies will be wracked with a sudden flush of baby-fat as your cells bloat to handle the load. And, to be brutally honest..." Aria paused, gesturing lazily with a flick of her wrist toward our incredibly swollen, crinkling midsections. "...a bit more accelerated digestive cycles. Your bodies will slowly accumulate, then unapologetically push out the aetheric impurities through your physical waste tracts." Mia moaned, pressing a trembling hand to her forehead in pure despair. "Let me be clear," Aria leaned in close, tapping a long acrylic nail directly against the bulging front of Mia's tracksuit. Mia whimpered. "If you draw aether from there, plan on inevitably flooding those thick, crinkling diapers you're currently strapped into. If you absorb the energy within close proximity to one another, your ambient purification fields will overlap and magnify. The effects are unknown... But resistance to it will only cause agonizing internal pressure until the dam bursts anyway." "..." "It's a bit poetic," Aria chided cheerfully. "Which brings us to our next order of business." She snapped her fingers, glaring at the shrinking System Administrator. "Veronica. Override the developmental safety limitations on their Inner Source matrices. Open it all up." "I—I'm not supposed to do that!" Veronica stamped her foot mid-air, or at least tried to, looking panicked. "Daddy explicitly specified the progression! They have to reach Phase Two before we arm them first—" "Oh, screw Orion," Aria scoffed, rolling her eyes. "If I drop these six quivering piles of squish into the central concourse right now with only ‘babble’, ‘scribble’ and 'spatial fingerpainting' to defend themselves, the Amazonian intake guards will have them collared, chained to reinforced cribs, and forcefully breastfed into clinical depression within the absolute hour. Do you want them to be adopted as pets, Veronica? Unlock it. The Toys. It limits their aether expenditure while maximizing structural effect according to localized reality definitions!" Veronica scowled, her lower lip jutting out in a pout, but she dutifully raised her hands. She tapped violently at the empty air, creating a scrolling holographic command strip that blazed to life in neon pink. Six distinct, brilliantly colored orbs snapped into existence overhead. Before any of us could brace or scream, the spheres plummeted down, slamming directly into our respective chests. The sudden injection of foreign data and unrestrained physics raced straight down my spine. It was a wave of pure energy that was so strong it affected my mind and affected my body directly. "Observe and use it well, girls!" Aria declared, acting as the ultimate games-master, relishing the sound of our collective crinkling as we futilely curled in on ourselves. "Understand your Toys! If you fail to utilize your classes properly, you might find yourself permanently locked in an Amazonian 'Time-Out' corner until your fiftieth birthday!" A series of translucent system panels flared before our eyes, projecting incredibly dense principles masquerading under embarrassingly infantile names. THE INNER SOURCE CLAN - PSYCHE CLASSES 🔹 Target: ELYSE Psyche Class: Imperial Cuteness Conceptual Law: The Law of Emotional Manipulation (Bio-Magnetic Resonance / Aetheric Empathy Drive) — "You are putty in my hands." Function: By deliberately weaponizing endearing physical mannerisms, the user resonates with the target's neuro-chemical dopamine centers. Reality bows to the user's emotional state. Your tears become invisible shackles. Your smile compels absolute servitude. "Elyse..." Aria's voice slithered specifically into my ear. "You are awake now. Adulthood relies on structure. But your core power demands you ruthlessly weaponize the very thing you loathe: total subservience. Make them adore you until their free will snaps." 🔹 Target: NINA Psyche Class: The Inevitable Tantrum Conceptual Law: Acoustic-Kinetic Overload via Resonant Subjugation Function: Channeling rage into specialized acoustic frequencies. The user can scream at a pitch that shatters molecular bonds, disrupts Aetheric shields, or selectively flattens targets based on an adjustable radius variable. "Your anger cannot be contained, Nina," Aria smirked, watching the fiery girl read the prompt. "So, don't hold it back. Pout, scream, and make it beautifully corporeal." 🔹 Target: ALINA Psyche Class: Imaginary Alchemist Conceptual Law: Transmutative Sublimation Synthesis (Objective Realization of Subjective Will) Function: Matter manipulation requiring utter suspension of scientific rigidity. True Imagination. If the user can picture the atomic rewrite through the lens of pure imagination, the localized reality alters to match. "We don't draw with chalk anymore, Alina." 🔹 Target: MIA Psyche Class: Messy Fortune Cookie Conceptual Law: Probabilistic Fortune & Karmic Alignment Function: Bending probability curves through "clumsy" or "unlucky" accidents. Spilling a cup, tripping over a block, or messing a diaper generates an opposite, intensely positive reaction in the localized probability field. An embarrassing fall today guarantees a miraculous escape route tomorrow. "A bizarre manifestation of karmic alignment, little raincloud. Learn to love the spills." 🔹 Target: LIANA Psyche Class: Finger Paint The World Conceptual Law: Viscous Spatial Rend (Chromatic Conjuration) Function: Utilizing any semi-liquid, viscous medium (paint, mud, pureed foods... etc.) to manually draw tears in spatial geography. Requires single-minded childish seriousness. "Why stick to paper, chaos engine?" 🔹 Target: LILY Psyche Class: The Dual Face Conceptual Law: Sympathetic Karmic Discipline (Retributive Transference Principle) Function: Absolute karmic redirection. If the user is mistreated or mischievously causes trouble while feigning innocence, the user can force a target to experience the exact physical or social phenomenon if the target harbors ill-will. (Clause Limit enabled: "Bad Girl! Sit!" If the user purposefully soils their own diaper and blames another entity, the targeted entity will immediately and uncontrollably evacuate their bowels in the exact same manner, regardless of biology or species). Aria's eyes twinkled darkly. "Execute it with a sweet little giggle, Lily." 🔹 Target: EVELYN Psyche Class: Peek-A-Boo Conceptual Law: Phasic Obscuration (Object Permanence Nullification Field) — "Survival through unseen genius." Function: By covering one's own eyes or face and genuinely believing they cannot be seen, the user entirely removes themselves from the target's object permanence, turning functionally invisible, intangible, and undetectable by scanning technologies. Aria nodded at the trembling girl crushing her stuffed toy. "Just cover your eyes." The text boxes faded, sinking directly from my retinas right down into my mind. The enormous, crushing pressure of this new imposed reality clicked loudly in the quiet space of my head. If I wanted to use these Toys... I would have to endure the humiliating purification. I stared down at my gloved, painfully small, mittened hands. I looked back over at Aria, my eyes tracing the impeccably clean lines of her expensive coat. Then my perception shifted back to myself, feeling the sickening, hot, sloshing weight of my completely saturated, soaked medical diaper clinging stubbornly to the skin of my thighs. It pulsed with the awful purity of the aether I was carrying. I sighed. A long, broken, entirely tragic exhalation. "Remember, your Aether capacity here is finite," Aria said seriously, her posture finally losing an edge of its humor. Her regal form began to glitch and pixelate, and the spatial corridor resumed its violent trembling around us, signaling the end of our pause in this Spatial Corridor. "Use your new 'Toys' wisely. Once you empty your reserves, pulling from the aether here will make you all squishy. If you need pure, unadulterated Aether, wait until you enter the Genesis Realm. You can absorb as much as you need while those poor giant Amazons think you're just taking a helpless little nap in your cribs." "Ah... Auntie!" Veronica squeezed out one final, desperate question, clinging to her clipboard as gravity began to violently reassert itself. "Where... where does this messed-up corridor push out?! This trajectory is ruined!" Aria didn't answer right away. As the edges of her localized portal snapped shut, she offered one final, terrifying smile. "Right into the true heart of the Grand Arrival Hall, Ronnie. The epicenter of the Amazon Intake Bureau." She faded out completely. The spatial vacuum holding us in suspension instantly and violently collapsed. The viscous, sticky feeling of zero gravity abruptly vanished, replaced by the relentless, invisible hand of a massive, gravitational pull. We screamed. A chorus of helpless, entirely undignified wails cut through the roaring air as we fell. It wasn't a long drop. The bottom of the tear spat us out scarcely fifteen feet above the freaking ground?! We landed in a sprawling, tangled heap of violently colorful tracksuits, our impacts muffled entirely by the loudly squelching, squeaking explosion of seven massively padded rear-ends hitting a highly polished, gleaming expanse of white marble flooring. I groaned in absolute agony. Tangled beneath Liana's leg, I pushed myself up onto my trembling palms, my breath hitching in my chest. Immediately, the vast, horrifying difference in gravitational and spatial scale became agonizingly obvious. My vision traced the clean lines of the marble floor upwards. Towering far, far above our heads were grand arched pillars carved from impossibly thick, what looked like quartzite, rising hundreds of feet high into a vaulted, sun-drenched ceiling that looked large enough to encompass an entire city block. But looming much closer, standing directly in our path and staring down at our tangled, whimpering pile, was a woman. She was colossal. Spanning at least ten-and-a-half feet tall, she was corded with dense, statuesque muscle perfectly fitted into a sharply tailored, deeply imposing blue and gold Customs Bureau uniform. Her shoulders were broader than a doorway, and her expression was a mix of terrifying professional respect, bored bureaucratic annoyance, and extremely analytical scrutiny. My eyes drifted in total terror to her right. Towering above the gargantuan desk separating her from the queue was a glowing sign set in intimidating, sky-blue neon letters: The giant Amazonian woman stepped forward. The sole of her colossal black combat boot hit the marble with a loud clap that vibrated up through the floor and rattled my very teeth. She peered down, adjusting a pair of square-frame glasses that rested on her nose. Her sharp eyes scanned the ridiculous, plastic-wrapped lanyards hanging crookedly around our necks marking us a 'Diamond Tours: VIP Package.' She leaned her monolithic frame forward, resting hands the size of dinner plates on her knees to get a better look at us. Then, her nose wrinkled. Even from six feet above us, she instantly caught the unmistakable, undeniably pungent scent of wet diapers radiating directly off our pathetic little pile. She stood back up to her full height, her gargantuan chest expanding with a deep, frustrated sigh. Her lips twitched tightly. "Diamond Tours. Of course it is," a velvety, towering voice boomed through the air. "Cleanup crew to Gate 4 immediately. We have seven Code Yellow intakes... and apparently, not a single one of them is potty-trained."

I believe I was in 6th grade when I finally stopped wetting bed.  My brother continued to high school and stopped like around 10th grade.  

No rules.  well, I am not to wake up my parents if I wet my bed.  Mom and dad told me to just go to the bathroom to take off wet pajamas and underwear, put on dry ones, grab a bath towel and then cover the wet spot and go back to sleep.  I will then tell my parents in the morning about it and my mom takes care of the laundering with no issues.