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Just moved states, new PCP, transferred medical records which had my history. Told them of all my diagnosis including OAB. No questions were asked and yes I was wearing a diaper at the appt. To the previous comment unless you bring it up they are going to tend to stay in their lane.

I typically use a pocket diaper with the absorbent part removed.

Sarah finally has some pangs of conscience? Maybe she told her mother that it is because of this therapy that Eddie has regressed so much that is why she has softened. She needs a course of psychotherapy, she understood that following this therapy has totally worsened the situation of the son, but she cannot admit that he was wrong. So she is prey to frustration because she sees the damage she has caused.

As the title says I'm looking for any diaper lovers or aBDLS that live in the Indianapolis area

As the title says I am looking for some pull-up style diapers that fit a adult that weighs about 300 lb

It's a long time until Saturday's filming now, so I'm curious to see what happens on Thursday and Friday, it looks like both Amanda and Nikky have some kind of bad premonition. I feel sorry for Neveah, the only way to help her at this point is probably to provide her with a good mommy who will never feed her from a jar of pickled eggs and durian. At least it looks like Ava and the other girl from our dimension are safe, thanks to Neveah, because almost all the mother fever from Nest Hen in that nest is being absorbed by Neveah. Oh, and I'm curious about spring break, too, to see what's in store. I can think of 2 things, either a trip to Selegnasol and a potential reunion with Kelly or a visit with Kacey, Katie and Kendra, Chloe's little ones. Translated with DeepL.com (free version)

"Honey I don't know why you are having so many daytime accidents today but I promise we will work through it. I love you princess." She hugs sarah tight in a very warm motherly hug. After all she ment every word even if during the hug she put some non tasting serum into Sarah's drink without sarah seeing. The serum will further promote the leaking of Sarah's bladder and bowel muscles.

I mean I don't like Karen and she isn't supper nice or gentle. However so far it sounds like she is judging everything kind of fair and by the letter of the law (for Kat5 DD standards), so for now I want to give here the benefit of the doubt and just find here a bit over zealous?. I do however agree with Guilend that its good that MeMaw is here to keep an eye on things. Also I heard something about pretty cookiessssss.

Yay MeMaw to the save. I had a feeling she was already headed that way. I was just hoping she’d get there in time. Yay John peed on her. Too bad it wasn’t on her pants/skirt. Or her face. She definitely isn’t experienced in changing diapers. I hope she gets a look at John’s “nice” picture he drew of her 😂 Of course I’m curious to what MeMaw has in the bag. John assumes it’s groceries, it’s possible that it’s something else. Now she probably can’t just tell this woman to go f herself with the car she drive in, but she knows what’s what and possibly brought some stuff to change things. Get some points in her daughter’s favor. But I’m not against blackmail either. I did notice that the test Karen gave John is the same test MeMaw gave him and that she’s given him everything he needs to keep practicing it even without it looking the same. One smart cookie. Speaking of, I want a cookie, chocolate chip with sprinkles to make it look pretty. I DEMAND MY PRETTY COOKIE!!!! Thank you. 😁

I'll be wet frequently around my wife and others, but no messy diapers. My wet diapers remain odor free and in fact very pleasant smelling because I use 3-4 drops of baby powder scented oil in side my diapers. Poopy diapers are reserved for the solitude of the early morning when I get out of bed well before my wife.

Kennan climbed the slope and sat down. He guessed he had to wait for long. Priscilla’s cleaning would take longer time. -------------- Earlier that day, Michelle opened her eyes and stretched her limbs. “Mommy, can you change me please?” she got up and waddled to her mother; the wet package between her legs was dropping. “Hey, are you serious? Should I change diapers of my adult daughter?” her mother sighed and continued making breakfast. Michelle sighed heavily and returned to the bedroom to change herself. She cleaned her wet crotch, put on a clean diaper and headed to the kitchen for breakfast.

Chapter Fifty Seven John sat in his Fort Dogbreath, struggling to sit still as he listened to this absolutely awful woman be rude and snippy to his adoptive mother. She was so loud and condescending that he heard every word she said every step of the way through the house. The only cathartic thing John could think to do was to keep adding to his doodle of the horrid imp. So at first he just had a doodle of her holding Argo McDerpus out at arms length. Then he added horns to her head. Then he had leaned out of Fort Dogbreath to eye her before drawing a barbed tail on the evil Imp lady. It was around that time that John heard the LPS lady say that he needed to be moved to the playpen. So before he even heard Mommy approach, he stopped drawing and held up both arms. As she got him under the arms, she whispered “You’re listening?” While being carried to the playpen he whispered back “Hard not to, she’s louder than the dog.” Before she put him down, she asked “Hey, you know something?” He looked up at her with those glassy eyes as he asked “What?” With a kiss on the forehead, Amanda whispered “I Love you. What are you drawing?” John simply bit his lip. “John?” He looked away as he held up the drawing pad to show her his very unflattering doodle. She looked briefly like she wanted to laugh before saying “John, please … don’t … just flip to the next page when we come back through.” He simply nodded as he settled into the playpen, and back into his doodling to distract himself as Rupert was put next to him before she walked away. For the first time ever, he felt a bit safer being in the playpen where this awful woman wouldn’t come and bother him. With a smirk, John flipped the page over and quickly re-doodled the woman, this time adding a bump under her skirt to imply that she was wearing a diaper, the barbed tail had a pacifier hanging from a strap clipped to it. And while she was still holding Argo, he was swinging a folded diaper at her face. On a whim he added a little word bubble over her head reading ‘I’m allergic to being nice!’ The inspection of the house dragged on so long that he had enough time to press really hard and draw some of the background wall and ceiling. Somewhere along the way he had started to need to go in his diaper, but with it being almost halfway used, he held it in. The last thing he wanted was to need a change while this awful lady was here. Finally, he could hear that it was his turn to deal with her, so he put his pencils down and waited for Mommy to come and pick him up. Before carrying him to the table, she was whispering “It’ll be fine. You just need to answer her questions for a couple of minutes and then she’ll probably want to confirm things like we got rid of your body hair, and that you don’t have any rashes or anything. She just has to confirm that you aren’t being neglected. Can you be brave for me for a few minutes?” Taking it all in, he nodded and whispered back “Yes Ma’am.” As he was placed in the booster seat and buckled in, John couldn’t help making a face as the slightly swollen padding put pressure on his bladder and squeezed a bit of pee out of him. Off to a great start, this. As he looked up to see what was expected of him, John saw the woman simply holding out a cylinder with grooves on it, with a big ring going around the outside of it. “Take the ring off.” was all she said. Coldly. So, reaching out with both hands to take it from her, it was just big enough that he had to pin one end between his knees to stand it up and take a good look at it. It was a simple ring puzzle, where there were teeth on the ring that face inward, and you had to move the ring up or down while turning it. It looked a LOT like one of the 3D puzzles that he had been doing while he was in MeMaw’s lap. Identical, in fact. Mumbling “Huh. Okay.” John simply started. It took a moment to get the hang of having to grab the ring with both hands because it was obviously made for someone much bigger than himself, but once he had a good grip on the ring and the cylinder wedged between his thighs, he was able to work the ring patiently back and forth, and even back down at one spot, and he got the metal ring off after a couple of minutes. “Mm.” was all the lady said as she took the puzzle from him and slid his chair all the way up to the table. Reaching into the diaper bag, she then pulled out a box. A very familiar looking box. Once she opened the box with a wood block puzzle with 32 pieces in it and poured the pieces onto the table. This puzzle was identical to the wooden puzzle that MeMaw had brought. John didn’t even wait for her to tell him what to do, he just started putting it together. It took a single minute, since he remembered where everything went. “Mm.” was all he got as the puzzle was taken away from him. Next, she pulled a laminated piece of posterboard with some sentences on it, and a dry erase marker. At the top it said “Draw a line from the correct word to the sentence it belongs in” Looking at the sentences, John felt kind of insulted by the simplicity. Did this woman think he was a preschooler? With a deep breath and a sigh, John simply said “Mm.” and quickly drew lines with the awkwardly large marker from the words on the right to the sentence they belonged in. Having played the pipe game a lot, he made a show of routing the lines around one another so they didn’t touch. Twenty minutes into dealing with this woman and his bladder was starting to feel like it was going to explode, but he refused to let go until this woman left the house. After he finished the word puzzle, complete with embellishments, she made a weird motion with her head, almost like scoffing as she said: “Mm.” John couldn’t help himself, he looked up at her and said: “Mm?” Quizzically. She just stared down at him. He could feel the judgment in her gaze. Finally she said “I think we can take a break from this and do your physical examination, then.” “Uhhh….. My what?” John asked, entirely confused. But the Karen lady didn’t bother to explain anything to John. She simply unbuckled him from the booster seat, picked him up with no warning or consideration, and got her diaper bag. Somehow, being carried by this woman scared him. It was like her grip on his was too tight and he still felt like he was going to fall at the same time. He reached out toward his Mommy as they went past her, but all she could do was follow along. Being carried into the bedroom, John was placed sitting up on the changing table, and the large diaper bag was placed at the end of it, out of his reach. “What I am doing here is to inspect him for any bruises, scrapes, or inappropriate body hair. You may stand outside the room and wait.” Karen said not to John, but to Mommy standing in the doorway. As the woman reached for one of the buckles on his shortalls, John started scooting his butt back on the table, trying to get away from her while holding his hands over the buckles. He didn’t even make it back a single foot before she had grabbed both of his ankles in one hand and pulled him forward. With a quick swat to his left hand, the instant he pulled his hand away and shook it out of reflex, the buckle was undone. And the moment he reached for the unbuckled one, the other one was undone. The swat hadn’t hurt at all, it was just such a sudden movement that he reacted. Trying to protest, John said “I don’t want to be undressed by you!” a bit more loudly than he intended. Her glare shut him up. John stared up at her for a few seconds before he stammered out: “… please?” Quick as lightning, her hand flashed out, snagged his pacifier dangling off the clip of his shirt and the bulb was shoved into his mouth. He flailed for two or three seconds while the calming Littles Powder on the bulb hit his tongue and quickly made its way into his bloodstream through some sort of Amazonian science. Within ten seconds of the pacifier that Mommy had covered in calming medicine being shoved into his mouth, his muscles all started to relax on their own and his entire posture softened. The result was that he immediately looked less defiant. Staring into his eyes for a moment, Karen finally nodded in satisfaction as she mumbled to herself. “At least you were properly pacy trained. She gets plenty of points for that.” And without bothering to say anything else to him like his involvement mattered in any way, Karen started pulling his shirt up and off. Feeling himself lifted and rotated while she looked at his front sides and back made him feel like he was some sort of doll being inspected for flaws. Nodding in approval, the woman then pivoted him down and let the foam bars of the changing table pin him in place. When she started to push his hands into the wrist straps, he tried to resist as hard as he could, but if his resistance caused her to have to push his arms any harder, you couldn't tell. Stopping with him now restrained, he saw her getting something out of the diaper bag below his feet. Producing a small notepad, the woman spoke softly to herself while she took notes. Occasionally she would lean and look at him like a piece of meat. “Subject appears intelligent, defiant. Properly pacy trained. Body hair properly removed. Subject appears to be scrawny, but fed well. I suspect emaciated when arriving in this dimension.” The note pad was put down above his head she took a moment to don some disposable gloves from her diaper bag. Even through the sedatives and calming agents, John found himself chewing on the pacy nervously as his diaper tapes were pulled and the diaper was laid open. As he saw the woman grab a wet wipe, he couldn’t help picking up his knees and pinning them together and tilting them away from her. Not really sure what he hoped to accomplish, he just hoped she wouldn’t start scrubbing his privates and would call Mommy back in. Apparently that effort was fruitless as the woman reached down and simply pushed a pressure point inside of one of his knees until he gave up and moved his legs back down. Going to work scrubbing him in his diaper area very thoroughly, she then started to tilt him this way and that. Apparently she was satisfied to find that he had no body hair on his legs and then she used a warm wet wipe to move his member to one side and then the other to confirm that there was no body hair. Much to Johns humiliation … his little friend began to respond to the attention in the most natural way. It started getting hard. Karen blinked. “Huh. I guess she hasn’t done anything about that.” Looking around the changing table, she asked herself “Where does she keep her spray … No matter.” Unzipping the front section of her diaper bag, she pulled out a small spray can and quickly sprayed up one side of his genitals and down the other. The instant the spray hit him he shivered as it felt cold. But then quickly didn’t feel at all. Not even numb, just … no feeling. Nodding in approval, Karen said “That will keep that thing under control for an hour or two.” as she put the can back. Trying to twist around to see what was happening did no good with the foam bar across his chest. Then while she was about to pull the diaper out from under him, she suddenly squeaked, and folded the front of the diaper back and started grabbing wet wipes to scrub her arm off, and then more wipes to scrub the changing table as all the pee he had been trying to hold in had no resistance when the numbing spray kicked in. Once she was done, Karen pulled her gloves off and picked her notepad back up while he lay there helplessly as his bladder emptied entirely of its own accord into the already slightly wet diaper loosely placed around him. John felt entirely demoralized. It only go worse as she mumbled as she wrote. “Subject is perfectly hairless, skin is free of marks. Defiance to being changed by unfamiliar grown ups.” Stopping to look at his diaper laid over him, she added to her notes “Subject also has no control over his penis.” And after a moment, added “… Which seems typical.” Apparently he was fully done after a minute, because she opened the diaper back up and set herself to changing him. She pulled out one of the thick overnight diapers, and looked at it like she was very obviously contemplating putting him in it. He could only imagine that she would cherish the thought of him not being able to even walk. But ultimately she got out a rough pup and popped it out with one hand before sliding it underneath him. After powdering him, she spent a moment getting everything lined up just right, pulled up high, and pushed down a bit while pulling the tapes in snug. When she was done the diaper he was wearing was so tight on him that the leg gathers were uncomfortable. He already knew he was going to waddle because of how tight this thing was, and sedatives or not, he was already grumpy about it. Once he was in a fresh rough, she spent a moment feeling his belly and sides. Almost as if to prove that she was not done with him, she pushed gently on his belly while getting a hand under his knees and pulling them up toward his chest and then gently rocking his lower body side to side like she was trying to work something out. After less than a minute, some gas escaped him in an involuntary fart. “Oh!” she said before addressing him directly like one would a baby “It looks like somebody’s Mommy is going to need to give them a suppository soon! Yes she will.” Even more embarrassment, but she didn’t care at all as she finally released his wrists and bumped something to make the bars pop back up. Half deciding to intentionally go limp, and half just emotionally dead after all of his humiliation, he didn’t help the woman put his shirt back onto him. Which did not phase her at all, as she threaded his limp arms through the holes in his shirt. She did not bother with his shortalls at all as she picked him up and got him against her chest. While she got her diaper bag, John wondered if he could somehow intentionally drool on her chest. Once they made it back to the living room, he was placed down in the playpen, where he simply crumpled and lay there staring through the mesh. The indifferent woman then turned to explain things to Mommy. “So you have done well to remove his body hair. His little friend stood up, I don’t know if you plan to do anything about that, but it’s not required like removing the body hair is. He was a bit defiant, but you seem to have pacy trained him well.” Mommy came over to the playpen and leaned down to pick him up and cradled him up against her chest. She gently stroked his hair as she tried to make sure he felt comforted. Which he definitely appreciated right now. He could hear the woman behind him further explaining things. “All that I would like to do from here is see if he has enough coordination to stand while doing a toddler level puzzle on the coffee table, and see if he can compose a couple of sentences in a meaningful way. He could feel Mommy nodding along above him. “Miss Taylor, I will admit that I do not believe that he has toddler level maturity in all ways, but as long as he can do these last simple tasks, he will manage to clear the goals enough. He certainly has the sass of a toddler down, but he’s not learned to just go in his diaper yet instead of trying to hold it.” With his head a bit clearer now, John looked up at Mommy, who was busy locking eyes with the LPS lady. With a slight huff he just let his head flop back against her chest. Within a couple of minutes, John found himself standing in front of the coffee table, and a notepad was placed in front of him. And next to that notepad was a crayon. A frickin’ crayon. John looked up at the two bigs before asking around the pacifier in his mouth “Penciww?” Mommy did not even hesitate to go get his small sketch pad and two pencils from his playpen and put them down in front of him. Looking up at the LPS lady expectantly, he pointed at the paper with the pencil and asked “Wha yoo wanf?” around the pacy. In a moment of frustration, he tried to push the pacy out with his tongue, with only made it grab his teeth in that weird ‘suddenly this bulb has all the friction’ way that it did. With a sigh, he sucked on the pacy while he listened to what the lady wanted. “I just need you to write me a few sentences. I want to see how literate you are.” She explained as if it weren’t some demeaning test. “Fine.” Was all he said as he leaned forward to write. Making sure to read out loud as he wrote, John started without even caring that the pacy was forcibly giving him a childish lisp: “My … name … is … John … I … wive … wigh … my … Mommy Fhe … if … a … very … nice … perfon … and … I … wove … her We … have … a … dog … namef … Xerxef. And … he … if … preggy … awefome. We … have … a … squirrew … named … Fgeve. Fomehow … even … ghe … squirrew … if … a … begger … perfon … ghan …” But before John could even finish writing out an insult aimed at the mean woman, the door opened. There was no knock, the door simply opened. As John turned, he immediately saw MeMaw walk in with her purse on her left shoulder and a grocery bag in her left hand. John did not hesitate. The pencil in his hand went airborne as he immediately went as fast as he could across the living room, waddling because of how tight the stupid diaper was. Screw the inspection. Screw the inspector. Definitely screw the stupid invasive exam that left him feeling humiliated. In fact, in that moment, to hell with most of this dimension and their rules and expectations. John made it to MeMaw in time to be scooped up with one arm, waited for her to drop off the groceries and her purse on the counter, and was then scooted up into a GREAT BIG hug. As far as John was concerned, everyone would have to wait. MeMaw was here.

That's why Mom wants Sarah to come along. Dad is mostly harmless and almost entirely useless. He cooks a mean set of ribs, and access to the press box is pretty cool.

Yes the Billboard .......Can I read about that?

I really like the story

Dady needs to take the diaper bag

Saturday, September 3, 2016: My Birthday! My birthday was on Thursday, but we celebrated it today. I’m sixteen years old; that’s old enough to drive, but it doesn’t feel like it. I sleep in a crib, wear diapers, and use a highchair! I’m not even allowed to open a door. I have to wait for somebody to open it, and they have to stay with me. I feel like I should be in kindergarten, but I’m not potty trained. I don’t use the potty or change my diaper at school, and that makes my mom really mad. Teachers don’t like it when we ask to go to the bathroom, and I’m afraid other kids will see my diaper. I’m supposed to go to the nurse’s office, but it’s on the other side of campus. It takes a long time to get there, and I hate changing my diaper. I went there once and missed fifteen minutes of class. I think Caitlyn was right, and nobody can tell I’m wearing a diaper. I thought it would be obvious, but it’s not. Nobody has said anything, and nobody notices when Sarah changes my diaper in her car. I didn’t use the potty the first three days of school, and Sarah had to change my diaper every day. I peed in both first and second period, and Sarah checked me during break. Since it was wet, we went to her car to change it. She got mad at me on Monday, because the same thing happened. She said, “Eddie, you’re ruining my break. It’s not fair that I have to do this every day. It’s my break and I don’t want to spend it changing your diaper. You should do this by yourself.” I asked, “Why?” “Stop that, you know why. Why won’t you go to the nurse’s office?” I shrugged, “I don’t know.” “Are you afraid?” I mumbled, “Kinda.” I wish I knew why but going to the nurses office is scary. I didn’t know what I wanted. I whined when Sarah took me to her car, but I didn’t want to go to the nurse’s office either. She said, “Well, the only way you’re conquering your fear is to go there.” I cried, “It doesn’t feel that wet. I don’t need to do it yet.” “Eddie, it’s too wet. You either go to the nurse’s office, or I have to change you.” I begged, “Don’t do that.” Sarah shook her head, “I’m not going to. Just go to the nurse’s office.” I walked away and made it look like I went to the nurse’s office, but I didn’t. I went to my history class, and hoped my diaper wouldn’t leak. Fortunately, it didn’t, but it was close. When Sarah picked me up from Ms. Lisa’s house, Ms. Lisa said, “Eddie’s diaper was almost leaking when I picked him up. I’m surprised it didn’t leak.” Sarah asked, “Was it a Pull-up, or a diaper?” “It was a diaper. I didn’t think Eddie wore Pull-ups?” “Eddie can’t handle the tapes on his diaper, so there are Pull-ups in his backpack. He wears them when he changes his diaper by himself, which he was supposed to do during Break.” Sarah glared at me, “Eddie, you told me you were going to the nurse’s office.” Technically that wasn’t true. I never said that I would go to the nurse’s office. I just left the table and made it look like I was going there. I started to defend myself, but Sarah plopped a pacifier in my mouth. “Don’t bother defending yourself. I don’t want to hear it.” When mom found out what happened, she made me stay in the playpen for the rest of the day. I had to do my homework there, and I wasn’t allowed to talk. After that, I had an early bedtime and ate baby food at dinner. The next morning, mom said, “Eddie, don’t tempt me. That was just a warning. If you try something like that again, I’m putting you in the playpen for an entire week.” I don’t think I peed during either first or second period the next morning. I might have peed a little bit, but it wasn’t very much. Sarah didn’t say anything when she checked, nor did she tell me to go to the potty. When Ms. Lisa picked me up, my diaper was wet, but I didn’t get in trouble. She just changed it like she usually does. The next day, I was wet when Sarah checked. She grabbed my arm and said, “Let’s go.” I thought she was taking me to her car, but we walked the opposite way. I asked, “Where are we going?” “We’re going to the nurse’s office. This time I’ll make sure you get there.” I pulled back and said, “No, please. I don’t want to go.” “I don’t care. You’re going to beat this fear. Eddie, I promise. It’s not as bad as you think it is.” I begged, but she kept walking. She whispered, “Don’t worry, it will be okay. You can do this.” After we got to the nurse’s office, she hugged me and asked, “Do you want me to go in there, or can you do this by yourself?” I knew it would be worse if Sarah was with me. I had to do it by myself. I shook my head and said, “It’s okay, I can do it.” Even though the nurse was nice, it was embarrassing. When the nurse saw me she said, “Eddie, it’s the first time I’ve seen you. I wondered if your problem wasn’t as bad as your mom let on. Are you here for the bathroom, or do you need a change?” I mumbled, “Change.” She sensed I was nervous and gave me a reassuring nod. “That’s fine. Just remember to toss the garment in the trash. Don’t worry, this is a private zone, so nobody will know.” I messed up the tabs and touched the inside of my diaper. It was gross! I didn’t use baby wipes, so I was still a little wet when I put the Pull-up on. It also took me a long time, and we were late for class. Fortunately, Sarah got a pass from the secretary, so we didn’t get in trouble. Once we left the office, Sarah whispered, “How was it?” I mumbled, “okay.” I didn’t want to tell her the truth. She gave me a side hug and said, “I’m proud of you.” Unfortunately, the Pull-up leaked. It wasn’t enough to show, but Ms. Lisa noticed. At first, she was proud of me. She said, “Eddie, you changed your diaper by yourself. That means you are a big boy!” Then she felt the side of my shorts and said, “Uh-oh. You sprung a leak. I’m afraid you have to wear a diaper and be a baby.” The next day, I used the potty in the nurse’s office. It was during Chemistry, which is really far from her office. It took almost fifteen minutes. When I got back, my teacher asked, “Did you get lost?” Fortunately, my diaper was still dry when Sarah checked, so it didn’t need to be changed. I was still a baby after school, because I was wet when Ms. Lisa picked me up. Last Friday, I thought about going to the bathroom before Chemistry, but I didn’t have to go. I’m not good about that. I can’t use the potty when I don’t have to go. My mom used to get mad because I wouldn’t go potty when we stopped the car, and then we would have to stop because I had to pee. I had to pee halfway through chemistry. Based on what happened that Thursday, I didn’t want to ask the teacher, so I peed in my diaper. I already peed a little in first period, so my diaper was pretty wet when Sarah checked. She started to take me to the nurse’s office, but I pulled the opposite way. I didn’t mean to; I couldn’t help it. Sarah asked, “Why are you pulling away? Is something wrong?” I mumbled, “I don’t want to go.” She calmly asked, “Why not?” I mumbled, and Sarah couldn’t understand. I had to say it a few times. Finally, she heard, “It’s better when you do it.” I thought she would be mad, but she wasn’t. She said, “Okay, if that’s what you want.” She turned around and walked to her car without saying anything else. She was quick. It took less than five minutes to change my diaper, and we still had time left in Break when we got back to the quad. Cole doesn’t wear Pull-ups during the day and doesn’t wear diapers at night either. He doesn’t sleep in a crib and hasn’t worn Pull-ups all month. Ethan still wears diapers to bed, but not during the day. He started wearing Pull-ups last week and this week he got to wear underwear. If he doesn’t have any accidents next week, his mom promised he can go back to a normal school. Unfortunately, that means I’m the only baby at their house. Mom said, “As long as you change your diaper, you can be a big boy the whole day. If you’re dry when Ms. Lisa picks you up, you can be a big boy. But, if you need your diaper changed, you’re a baby the rest of the day.” Being a baby means that I eat lunch in a highchair, and I have to take a nap. Ethan doesn’t take naps anymore, and neither one of them sits in a highchair. Sarah picks me up after my nap, so I can’t play with Ethan and Cole. I don’t get to play with Tara until I finish my homework, and sometimes that’s after she goes home. Tara had a big accident on the second day of school. Her Pull-up leaked, and her mom had to pick her up. She didn’t go to school the next day, and I didn’t see her over the weekend. When I saw her the following Monday, she was back in diapers. Now she won’t use the potty. When somebody asks, she screams “No potty! I don’t want to be a big girl, it’s too hard.” She won’t tell us what happened. When we ask, she cries, “I don’t want to talk about it,” and won’t say anything else until we stop asking. Emily asked her, “Why don’t you want to use the potty? Isn’t it embarrassing to wear a diaper?” Tara shook her head, “No! When I wear Pull-ups, my mom makes me sit on the potty a really long time and gets mad when I have an accident. When I wear a diaper, she makes Ashy take care of me and doesn’t talk to me.” I asked, “What do you do when you need to change your diaper at school?” “I go to a classroom with other kids who wear diapers. They want me to use the potty, but they don’t get mad when I don’t.” When I got home last Friday, Mom said “Since you don’t want to be a big kid, you can spend all weekend in your playpen. That’s where babies stay.” She put a pacifier in my mouth and demanded, “Get in! Don’t whine, it’s your fault. Don’t even think about taking the binky out.” I sulked quietly, because I was too afraid to say anything. Sarah argued, “Mom, Eddie didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t do this.” Mom retorted, “Sarah, not now! He’s not trying, and I don’t know what else I can do.” That scared Tara. She cried, “But I want to play with Eddie.” My mom almost snapped back but realized she was talking to Tara. She took a deep breath and said, “I know honey, but Eddie can’t play right now. He’s in his playpen, and babies can’t play with other kids.” Sarah pleaded, “Mommy, please! I know why you’re frustrated, but you don’t need to do this. Can we talk about it?” “This isn’t up for discussion! He’s my son, and I will decide what we do about this.” The playpen is super boring. I only get to play with one toy, and I’m not allowed to talk. I have to keep a pacifier in my mouth the whole time. I couldn’t even choose the toy; mom gave me a toy meant for a baby. When Emily asked if I wanted a better toy, my mom snapped, “Don’t talk to the baby. He needs to know what it’s like to be a real baby.” My mom is strict, but she isn’t mean like that. It felt like a long time, but time drags when I’m in the playpen. Mom used a sing-song voice meant for babies to announce dinner. “It’s time for din-din, than it’s time for bed. Babies need a lot of sleep, so it’s off to bed for you.” She purposely chose the most disgusting baby food. “Oh, isn’t this nice. Beef, broccoli, and peas.” When I blew a raspberry in disgust, mom said, “When you decide to be a big boy, you can eat what you want. Until then, you will eat what I tell you to eat. This will make you big and strong.” Usually, Emily is quite happy to help, but she wasn’t this time. Mom asked, “Do you want to feed the baby?” Emily replied, “No, I’m playing with Tara.” Mom waved her off, “Okay, I guess I get to feed him.” She held out the spoon and said, “Here comes the airplane!” I kept my lips pierced, but mom pinched my nose. When I tried to breathe, she put the spoon in my mouth. I gagged, and spit most of it out. Mom replied, “Whatever you spit out is going back in your mouth. You’re eating all of this, even if it takes all night.” Sarah pleaded, “Mommy, please. He’s miserable.” Mom barked, “Sarah! That’s enough. Stop, unless you want the same thing to happen to you.” Sarah shook her head in disgust, “Whatever mom. I don’t want Tara to watch this, and Emily shouldn’t either. We’re going to my room.” I think that helped a little, because mom wasn’t as mean after that. She still made me eat the whole thing, but didn’t jam the spoon as aggressively as she did the first time. I ended up eating about half of it, and the rest was on my face and bib. After the disgusting mush, I got some rice cereal. It was bland, but there was a little bit of vanilla and enough sugar and salt to give it some flavor. It was a lot better than dinner. After dinner, mom gave me a bath and got me ready for bed. She was gentle and used a lot more lotion and baby powder than she usually does. Before she pulled up the rails, she caressed my hair and said, “Eddie, I’m very disappointed in you. You need to be a big kid, and you’re not acting like one. I hope after this weekend you realize it’s time to grow up.” I could see the sun from the window, and it was even brighter than Monday night. Even though I went to bed early, I didn’t sleep very much. Normally, I fall asleep after the lights are turned out and don’t wake up until it’s time to get up. I’ve trained myself to sleep when the lights are out, but I barely slept that night. I knew mom was mad, and that scared me. I just wanted to get through the weekend. The thought of spending a whole weekend in the playpen was awful. I slept a little bit and then woke up. I didn’t know what time it was, so I tried to sleep some more, but I kept waking up. Finally, mom let me out of the nursery. I was wide awake and sitting in my crib. I was afraid that she would be mad I wasn’t sleeping, but she wasn’t. She said, “Look at you, all bright-eyed and bushy tailed. Did you sleep well?” I nodded, even though it wasn’t true. Then mom said, “Eddie, I shouldn’t have put you in the playpen. The playpen is only when you’re naughty and you weren’t naughty.” “I wasn’t?” Mom shook her head. “No, you weren’t. I let frustration get the best of me. I wanted you to be a big boy, but you aren’t ready for that. I’m sorry. You shouldn’t get punished for something you aren’t ready for. That’s not fair.” For some reason I replied, “That’s okay.” Mom shook her head, “No, it’s not okay. I was wrong, and I need to make it up to you.” I asked, “But I’m almost sixteen. I should be a big kid?” Whenever I say that, mom gets mad and tells me to stop pouting. This time she hugged me and said, “I know, but age has nothing to do with it. If you were ready to be a big kid, you would act like one.” I asked, “Does this mean you won’t treat me like a baby anymore?” “Are you asking if I’m going to treat you like a big kid?” I nodded. Mom shook her head. “No, I’m sorry, I can’t treat you like a big kid until you’re ready. You’re not ready, but you don’t have to sit in the playpen. You’ll be treated like you were this summer.” Tara and Ashley spent the weekend with us, and we played the whole time. I watched a football game, and we watched a movie on Saturday night. Nobody made us use the potty, and nobody was mad when we used our diaper. On Saturday, Tara and I got to stay up until nine o’clock. At school this week, I only needed my diaper changed once. I peed just a little bit on Monday, and not at all on Tuesday. When Sarah checked it, my diaper was dry, and I could wait until Ms. Lisa picked me up. Sarah changed my diaper during Break on Wednesday, but she wasn’t mad about it. On Thursday, I used the potty during third period, so my diaper was mostly dry when Ms. Lisa picked me up. She said, “I don’t know if I should do this. It’s your birthday and you used the potty, so I’m proud of you. Your diaper is only a little wet; I’m going to let you wear Pull-ups this afternoon.” That meant I was a big boy at lunch, and didn’t have to sit in a highchair. I also didn’t have to use a sippy cup, but I spilled. I haven’t used a real cup since June, so I’m not used to it. I felt sorry about it, but Ms. Lisa didn’t seem mad. Since I didn’t have to take a nap, I got to play outside with Ethan and Cole. I got distracted and had a big accident. My Pull-up leaked, and Ms. Lisa put me back in diapers. I was a baby the rest of the day. That night my dad made spareribs. His birthday was on Tuesday, so we celebrated together. Spareribs are my favorite, and he let me choose the meal. That’s also what he wanted, because that’s his favorite. I had to sit in my highchair, but the ribs weren’t cut into small pieces. I got to eat the whole rib with my hands, which made my face really messy. Tara ate them as well, and her face was just as messy as mine. Birthdays aren’t a big deal in our house. A meal and a small gift are usually all I get. Since my dad’s birthday is so close to mine, we celebrate them together. I’ve never had a birthday party, because it’s always so early in the school year. I didn’t know the kids in my class yet, so it was hard to know who to invite. My dad said the same thing use to happen to him. I tried to have one in fifth grade. I invited kids to Chuck E. Cheese, but one of the kids said that Chuck E. Cheese was just for babies and nobody came. Mom decided to give me a real birthday party this year. She let me choose between kids my age, and doing something appropriate for teenagers, or kids from Play Group and doing something appropriate for little kids. I asked, “Can I invite both?” Mom replied, “No, you can’t have big kids and little kids at the same party. If you invite big kids, it’s just for big kids. And if you want a little kid party, it’s just for little kids.” “What about Tara? Can she come?” My mom shook her head, “No. She’s not old enough for a big kid party.” A little kid party is funner than a big kid party. I’m sixteen, so I shouldn’t want a little kid party, but I don’t have friends my age. I know some kids from soccer, but they aren’t really friends. I just know them, but I don’t fit in with them. They do stuff I don’t like and talk about things that I don’t understand. I think my friends from Play Group are better friends than anybody at school and it didn’t seem right to not invite Tara. Caitlyn, Tara, and Emily had a sleepover last night. It might have been partly for me, but I wasn’t allowed in Emily’s room. Mom said, “That’s only for girls.” I got to play with them, but I had to sleep in my nursery. I asked Caitlyn, “Have you had any accidents? What about school?” She replied, “Sometimes, but I wear Pull-ups, and nobody knows when it happens.” “Does your mommy make you wear them?” She blushed, “Not really, it’s my choice.” I looked confused. She remarked, “I still have accidents, and I don’t want other kids to see. Besides, it’s better.” “Why?” “I can change my Pull-up whenever I need to, and I don’t have to wear a diaper. I only have to be a baby when I leak, and that hasn’t happened yet.” Before dinner, Emily meekly asked, “Mommy, can me and Caitlyn be babies, like Tara?” That surprised me. Caitlyn is proud of her big kid status, and Emily hasn’t been curious about diapers since she wore them in June. She prefers being a big sister to Tara and me. I think mom was confused as well. She asked, “What do you mean, honey?” “Can we wear diapers and use baby bottles and get treated like Tara? That way, she won’t be alone.” Mom was reluctant, but didn’t say no. She explained, “But Tara isn’t alone. Eddie is with her, and you and Caitlyn can be big sisters.” Emily pleaded a little more, but not with much passion. Eventually, mom replied “If that’s what you really want, it’s okay with me. Remember, if you wear diapers, you have to stay in them all weekend. And then, you’ll need to be potty trained. You can’t go back to big girl panties until I know you are ready for them.” Caitlyn replied, “No, my mommy might make me go back to diapers all the time.” It didn’t matter, because they got to wear diapers anyway. Caitlyn still wears a diaper at night, and mom let them get ready before dinner. That meant Caitlyn and Tara were both in diapers, and Emily got to wear one as well. All of us had our pajamas on, and we sat at this little table. We each had a sippy cup, and our pizza was cut into small pieces. After dinner, we watched a movie while sucking on baby bottles. Tara’s crib is too small for three people, so they slept on the floor. I think Emily used her diaper, because she was still a baby in the morning. They didn’t get to be big girls until they finished breakfast. The party was really fun! It was in our backyard, so I wasn’t a baby in public. The only people who saw me already know about this. Everybody from Play Group came, as well as Ethan’s little sister. Mom let me drink soda, which she never does. We had cake, ice cream, hot dogs, chips and candy. All the foods that I like, but mom never lets me eat. We played outside, and then we played pin-the-tail-on-the-donkey. I haven’t played that game since I was a little kid. They sang Happy Birthday to me. I didn’t like that, but I pretended to like it. It was awkward when everybody looked at me. I’m sitting in the press box at the A’s game tomorrow. Sarah and I are coming along with my dad while he works. Since it’s in the press box, I don’t have to be a baby. I still have to wear a diaper, but I’m wearing the same clothes I wear to school. I’m not sure if Sarah really wants to come, but mom won’t let me go unless she does. I feel bad because the other girls are going to the spa with my mom. It’s the first time that Tara and Caitlyn have ever been to a spa, and they are super excited. My dad tried to convince mom to relent, but she won’t budge. “Alice, he’ll be fine. I can take care of Eddie, and Sarah can go with you to the spa. I think that’s what she prefers.” Mom laughed, “George, it’s not just Eddie I’m worried about, and he needs an adult to watch him.” My dad protested, “Alice, I am an adult. You and the girls can go to the spa together, and we can have a father-son outing. It will be good for him.” “George don’t push this. You already know how I feel about it.” Sarah replied, “It’s okay, daddy. I want to go to the game. It will be fun, and it’s been a long time since I sat in the press box.”

Depends upon where in the US you are. California is notorious for high gas prices and taxes. Where I live it's been weird. The town I live in hasn't had gas prices below $3.39 a gallon in a long time. Prices elsewhere in the area have dropped as low as $2.89 a gallon during the same time. They are currently in the $3.09-3.19 range, they can vary by 10-20 cents a gallon depending upon where you fill up.

Can that be right? I've just jumped through the math (I have to map it back to liters and then use an exchange rate) but 95 oct down here in my part of Australia works out at US$4.35 per gallon today. Australian fuel isn't crazy-expensive like Europe but in 25 years of regular travel to the US, I'd NEVER seen US fuel more expensive than Australia. What's going on?

Hi there, new member and longtime abdl sissy here. Would love to meet other abdl sissies and caregivers as well. I'm 58, educated, single and wish to make new friends. IMG_8361.HEIC

4.69 here in Washington state.

Cool, I hope you find the name of the file, I will also look on Amazon I never even thought of that.. I need cheap or free, as probably soo many on here. Thanks

Very true on both, I mostly need to go where they will make changes to my orders, I am gluten free, I have no teeth left, due to past oral cancer, and cat have spicy anything, pepper can be too much. My wife and son are very understanding, we have one place near s that's really good food etc, but on holidays you will be in for that long wait. I wish I could find a food and place like you have found. We live in a fairly small town about 14k, thats big to some people , our only big all purpose store is a Walmart I Hate it, we will shop at small grocery stores and pay more to avoid that place, but being a small town has advantages, like small town Service at a restaurant..etc..

The Nursery Trials A story by SolaraScott Chapter 30 - Babies' Modesty The air was thick with the scent of chlorine and sweat; the silence was broken only by the exhausted gaps and quiet groans of the contestants sprawled across the finish mat. Ivy’s limbs ached as though they were weighted down by iron, her muscles spent and trembling. Her breath came in shallow, ragged pulls, her chest heaving with the effort. She felt the clammy press of her sodden swimsuit clinging to her skin, the bloated mass of her swollen diaper squishing uncomfortably beneath her. It seemed impossible that she’d made it — that she was here, on the other side of that grueling, humiliating trial. She closed her eyes, her head resting against the padded mat. The room swam around her in a haze of exhaustion. Dimly, she heard Finn coughing somewhere nearby — a hacking, waterlogged sound that made her wince. The others were still sprawled out as well, their breaths thin and ragged, yet no one moved. And then, with a cold mechanical CLANG, a set of double doors at the far end of the room lurched open. Ivy’s eyes flickered open, her breath catching. The sound seemed distant, yet sharp — like a bell tolling in a distant hall. Slowly, her head turned, and she saw the faint gleam of metal. The doors had parted just enough to reveal the small anti-chamber beyond — dim, quiet, and utterly unwelcoming. It looked no more inviting than a prison cell. For a moment, no one moved. Ivy half-hoped they’d be allowed to just... stay here. Maybe if they didn’t crawl forward, they wouldn’t have to face whatever fresh horror lay ahead. But she knew better. They couldn’t stay here — not with Mistress watching. Ivy shifted her arm, her muscles quivering with the effort. She tried to push herself up, but her arms barely obeyed. Her body felt like lead, and her limbs were unwilling to respond. Even her fingers, freed from the mittens, curled weakly against the mat. She tried again. A grunt escaped her lips as she managed to turn onto her side, her bloated diaper squishing against her as she forced her arm beneath her chest and pushed upward. Her trembling muscles strained against her weight. With a strangled breath, she dragged her body forward, her fingers slipping against the wet surface of the mat. She barely managed a few inches before collapsing back onto her belly, breathless and shaking. The sound of movement reached her ears — a low rustling of limbs scraping across the mat. Another contestant, someone she didn’t recognize, had started crawling — slowly dragging themselves toward the open doors. His diaper bulged like an overfilled sack, the sodden padding forcing his legs apart and making every movement awkward and sluggish. He barely moved faster than a snail, yet he was moving. Ivy gritted her teeth and tried again, her fingers digging into the mat as she pulled herself forward. Her legs were useless behind her, splayed out by the sheer bulk of her swollen diaper. Every motion squeezed the padding uncomfortably between her thighs, the weight dragging heavily beneath her. The bloated diaper pressed against her stomach, her mess squishing unpleasantly with each awkward lurch forward. Finn grunted beside her, dragging his bulk with a determined grimace. His soaked diaper sagged beneath his swimsuit, the cartoonish frills of his inner tube making him look utterly ridiculous. Still, he pressed on, his gaze locked on the doorway ahead. Ivy clenched her teeth and forced herself to move again, dragging her damp, aching body a few more feet The others crawled too — slow, miserable progress from every exhausted body. They moved like a pitiful herd of wounded animals, dragging their bloated diapers and inflatable tubes behind them. The air in the anti-chamber was stale when Ivy finally crossed the threshold — warm and dry compared to the humid haze of the trial room. The floor was cold and hard beneath her fingers, but at least it wasn’t slick. She flopped onto her side, gasping for breath, her chest heaving like a bellows. Finn flopped down beside her, coughing into his hand. The remaining contestants trickled in one by one, each collapsing in their pitiful heap. The room grew quiet again — no cheering crowd, no mocking commentary from Mistress. Just the shallow breathing of exhausted contestants. The last of the contestants made their way in as the door shut behind them, sealing them in. Ivy’s legs still refused to obey her. The bloated mass between her thighs felt like a swollen sponge, waterlogged and swollen far beyond what any diaper should have endured. The bulk seemed to have taken on a life of its own — an oppressive weight dragging against her like an anchor. Finn broke the silence with a breathless chuckle. “I can’t believe... we actually made it,” he muttered between gasps. Ivy didn’t have the strength to answer — she only closed her eyes, willing her body to stop trembling. The mechanical arms whirred overhead without warning, their cold, lifeless movements filling the air with a low, metallic grind. Ivy barely had the strength to lift her head; her body still slumped against the cold floor of the anti-chamber. But then she felt the cold pinch of metal against her arm — fingers tightening just below her shoulder — and before she could react, the mechanical limb hoisted her upward. Her feet dangled for a moment, her legs like lead beneath her. Her swollen diaper sagged heavily between her thighs, the sodden padding clinging to her, heavily bloated and drooping, helped up only by the swimsuit, it seemed. Water seeped from the swollen material, trickling down her legs in cold, unpleasant rivulets. She winced as the arms twisted her upright, locking her in place as they began their work. The buckle at her chest clicked loose first — her life jacket peeling away in one swift motion, the jacket and the inter tube flopping uselessly to the floor, leaving her upper body bare save for the tight, waterlogged swimsuit still clinging to her frame. She barely had time to process that before she felt the mechanical fingers at her shoulders, gripping the straps of her swimsuite. Please... not here… The swimsuit was peeled away, the cool air rushing across her shoulders and chest. Her arms twitched, instinctively trying to cover herself, but the mechanical grips on her wrists kept her held tight. The arms stripped the swimsuit from her hips, tugging it down her legs and peeling it free like someone wringing water from a towel. Ivy's face burned with shame, but the mechanical arms showed no care for modesty — they tossed the sodden garment to the floor with an unceremonious splat. For the first time since the trial ended, Ivy got a good look at the bloated mass strapped to her waist. Her swollen diaper was grotesquely engorged, its surface bulging outward in misshapen lumps like some overfilled balloon on the verge of bursting. The once-smooth plastic was now wrinkled and distorted, pressing heavily against her thighs and waist. The color had shifted, too—the once-pale blue of the swim diaper had deepened to a dark, almost navy hue, bloated and saturated well beyond its intended limits. And yet, despite its sheer size, Ivy knew the swollen bulk wasn’t just water. Her mess clung inside, warm and sticky, squished deeply against her skin. She shuddered at the thought, the shame tightening like a coil inside her chest. The arms weren’t finished. The first tab peeled back with a RIP, and the tearing sound was far louder in the quiet room than it should have been. The second tab followed, and with that final pop, the diaper surrendered its hold on her. Ivy barely had time to react before the arms yanked the swollen mass away, dropping it with a wet, sickening splat on the floor beneath her. Cold air kissed her bare skin, and Ivy gasped—both in surprise and mortification. Her body trembled violently, and despite the exhaustion still dragging at her limbs, her hands shot instinctively to her chest and between her legs. Her fingers clamped tightly over herself as her face ignited with burning heat. Her breath hitched, and tears stung her eyes. But she wasn’t alone. All around her, the other contestants hung in the same state of miserable vulnerability. The mechanical arms worked their way down the line, stripping each of them bare with mechanical efficiency. Contestants squirmed and shivered as their swollen diapers hit the floor one by one, each slapping against the tiles with an unmistakable plop. Red faces turned away, hands fumbling in weak attempts to hide themselves, but the mechanical arms gave them no opportunity for dignity. Ivy’s eyes flickered to Finn. He stood a few feet away, his face red and miserable, his hands clamped tightly to himself as he shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. The space between them seemed to stretch for miles — every stolen glance a reminder of their helplessness. The arms weren’t finished. Cold, damp wipes dragged across her bare skin, scrubbing her without tenderness or care. Ivy winced, shifting instinctively to pull away, but the arms held her firm, methodically cleaning her from front to back. Her face burned as she stared at the wall, her body stiff with humiliation. The rough wipes dragged across her most sensitive places with mechanical precision, indifferent to her discomfort. Each stroke felt invasive — cold fingers stripping her of what little dignity she had left. And then, mercifully, it was over. The arms released her, and Ivy stumbled, nearly collapsing as her trembling legs struggled to support her. She staggered back against the wall, her arms still wrapped tightly around herself, her breath coming in uneven gasps. She felt cold, exposed, and utterly powerless. Around her, the other contestants mirrored her misery — silent, defeated figures hunched over themselves, their arms clinging to what little modesty they could manage. No one spoke. No one moved. The air was thick with shared humiliation broken only by the faint sound of mechanical arms retracting into the ceiling, carrying with them the swim gear, soiled diapers, and any other chance of modesty the contestants could have clung to. The silence lingered — oppressive and suffocating. Ivy felt it was pressing down on her like a physical weight; her arms clamped tightly to her body, fingers curled over her chest and crotch in a feeble attempt to shield herself. Her breathing was shallow, her pulse hammering in her ears. Around her, the other contestants stood frozen, their own hands gripping themselves in mirrored desperation. And then, Mistress’s voice slithered in from the speakers, a cruel purr that seeped into every corner of the room. “Babies do not have modesty,” she cooed, her tone syrupy sweet yet dripping with malice. “And so... neither shall you.” Ivy’s breath hitched, her stomach twisting into knots. “Drop your hands.” Mistress’s voice hardened, cold and sharp as steel. “Babies don’t care if they’re seen — naked or not.” Ivy’s eyes darted around the room, searching the faces of her fellow contestants. Some stared wide-eyed, and others squeezed their eyes shut like they could themselves invisible. But no one moved. No one dared. The shame was too thick, too heavy. Then, movement—subtle at first. Jamie, one of the boys, had a face flushed crimson, and the tension in his body coiled like a spring. He exhaled shakily and slowly, reluctantly, let his hands fall to his sides. His fingers twitched weakly before curling into fists, his gaze locked firmly on the floor. “It’s not like this is the first time I’ve been naked in front of everyone here,” Jamie mumbled, his voice low and bitter. The words seemed to sting more than he intended, but there was no hiding the truth in them. He’d been humiliated before — they all had — but somehow this... this was worse. A few others followed his example, lowering their hands with stiff, jerking motions. Their faces glowed red. Some turned away, and others stared down at their bare feet, too ashamed to meet anyone's gaze. Ivy swallowed hard, her arms trembling against her chest. Slowly — painfully — she let her arm fall from her chest. Her stomach twisted violently as though the very act of exposing herself was forcing bile into her throat. But still... her other hand remained firmly between her legs. Not yet... Not that… Two of the girls hadn’t moved at all—frozen statues of stubborn defiance. One had her back pressed tightly against the wall, her fingers digging into her skin as if she could somehow disappear inside herself. The other had tears streaking down her face, and her gaze locked forward with a distant, glassy emptiness—a desperate refusal to acknowledge her reality. Mistress’s voice returned — this time quieter, yet colder, slicing through the room with pointed precision. “You will not be permitted to leave until every one of you does as you’re told.” Ivy’s fingers tucked more protectively over herself. “Drop your hands,” Mistress purred, “or we’ll stay here all night.” The room’s oppressive silence returned, each second dragging out painfully, filling the air with unspoken dread. Ivy glanced around again, noting the looks of panic and helpless frustration spreading among the other contestants. No one dared speak, no one dared move. And then... one of the girls — the one with the tear-streaked face — finally surrendered. Her arms shook violently as her fingers unfurled from her chest, falling limply to her sides. Her breath hitched — a quiet, shuddering gasp — before her shoulders slumped in defeat. The last girl followed a moment later, her lips quivering as her fingers uncurled and drifted to her sides. Her face twisted in open misery, tears streaking down her cheeks as she clamped her eyes shut, trembling from head to toe. Mistress’s voice returned — softer this time, almost smug. “All of you.” The words struck like a whip-sharp and deliberate. Ivy’s gut twisted painfully. The weight of those words felt aimed directly at her. She clenched her teeth. Her fingers trembled violently. The thought of what she was about to do left her lightheaded, her skin crawling beneath the sweat that clung to her. Every fiber of her being screamed to resist — to hold on to whatever shred of dignity she had left. With a choked breath, Ivy let her arm drop — slowly, reluctantly — her fingers curling helplessly at her sides. The air felt colder against her exposed skin, her nakedness no longer guarded by even the pitiful shield of her own hands. Her face burned. Her breath trembled. Tears blurred her vision, but she kept her eyes locked on the floor, unwilling to meet the faces of those around her. The silence seemed to stretch on forever — a deafening void of shame and humiliation. And then, finally… “Good babies...” Mistress cooed. The door at the far end of the room hissed open, the mechanical locks disengaging with a heavy clunk. The door creaked open, the stale air of the previous room giving way to a warm, humid breeze that carried the sharp scent of soap and faintly floral bath oils. Ivy’s eyes widened as she took in the sight before her — a massive, oversized infant tub, its glossy white porcelain gleaming beneath the overhead lights. It was impossibly large, clearly designed to fit them all at once. The sides were padded with soft, pastel-colored cushions, and the water inside shimmered faintly, bubbling slightly as if the tub had its built-in jets. A faint mist rose from the surface, curling lazily through the air like the steam from a boiling kettle. And then... Mistress’s voice. "My poor babies..." she cooed, the saccharine warmth in her voice laced with something colder. "You’ve had a long day. And what better way to end it than with a nice, warm bath?" Ivy’s stomach twisted. She didn’t trust this — not for a second. Whatever awaited them in that tub, it wouldn’t just be to "relax." "Relax... enjoy the waters," Mistress added sweetly. "They won’t last for long..." The metallic click of the door locking behind them turned that promise into a threat. The remaining contestants stood frozen, exchanging uneasy glances. No one wanted to be the first to move. Ivy swallowed hard, her throat dry, her skin still burning from the humiliation of the previous room. Her gaze flicked between the other contestants and the tub’s gently rippling surface. It’s just water, she told herself. It’s just a bath… Jamie shifted uncomfortably before giving an exaggerated sigh. “Screw it,” he muttered and strode toward the tub. Without hesitation, he climbed over the padded edge, lowering himself into the water with a grunt. His shoulders visibly relaxed as the warmth enveloped him, and for a moment — just a moment — Ivy believed that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly what Mistress had promised. A girl followed next, slipping in beside Jamie, her face twisted in discomfort but clearly unwilling to show hesitation. The warm water seemed to cradle her as she sank deeper into it, her eyes closing as if she were trying to will the day’s humiliation away. Ivy bit her lip and stepped forward. The tiled floor was cold beneath her bare feet, and her steps felt sluggish — like walking through mud. She caught Finn’s gaze as he moved alongside her. He gave her a faint, weary smile — one that barely masked the tension in his eyes. “We’ve come this far,” he muttered. “Might as well see it through.” Ivy nodded weakly. Together, they crossed to the tub. The warm steam clung to her skin, and when she climbed over the padded edge and slid her foot into the water, her muscles shuddered from the sudden contrast in temperature. The heat enveloped her like a heavy blanket, seeping into her aching limbs, washing away the soreness of the trial. For a fleeting moment, it actually felt... good. Ivy sank deeper, submerging herself to her shoulders. The water was soft, silky almost, and faintly scented — a blend of lavender and something vaguely sweet. It relaxed her in a way that felt unnatural — like her muscles weren’t just unwinding but surrendering. The tub filled quickly as the rest of the contestants followed suit, each one easing reluctantly into the water. The tub was large enough to fit them comfortably, but that didn’t stop Ivy from feeling vulnerable — too close to too many people, all of them bare, exposed. She tried to focus on the warmth, on the way the jets churned the water gently around her. For just a moment, her eyes closed, her head resting against the padded rim. And then... something shifted. The warmth seemed to deepen, growing almost too hot, like sitting too close to a fire. The silky feeling of the water seemed thicker now, clinging to her skin with an uncomfortable slickness. Ivy’s eyes shot open. The ripples on the water’s surface were moving unnaturally — slower, denser — like syrup swirling down a drain. “What... what is this?” one of the girls muttered, her voice thin with worry. Ivy rubbed her arm, and her fingers slid too easily over her skin. Whatever was in the water felt... off. Greasy, almost. A faint tingling sensation spread along her limbs. “Get out,” Ivy muttered, her voice barely above a whisper. “Get out.” But the water shifted again, bubbling more fiercely as mechanical arms extended from the ceiling — a dozen of them, each tipped with oversized sponges and bottles of pastel soap. Before anyone could react, the arms plunged into the water, scrubbing, lathering, forcing their way over skin, hair, and faces. Ivy flinched as one found her, a sponge pressing roughly to her scalp, working soap into her hair with humiliating precision. “Stop!” Finn shouted, batting one of the arms away — only for another to descend on him, scrubbing his chest and shoulders like he was some oversized toddler. Ivy thrashed as the sponge roughly scrubbed her arms, back, and face. Bubbles swarmed around her like foam in a storm, and the air grew thick with the sharp scent of soap and something... chemical. Her skin tingled more intensely now, and her muscles felt weak and limp like her body was turning against her. The water churned violently, sloshing over the edge as more mechanical arms danced through the chaos. Each one dutifully scrubbed and rinsed the squirming contestants like unruly infants. Ivy gasped for breath as her hair was rinsed clean, her face dripping with suds. Finally — mercifully — the arms retreated, curling back into the ceiling like spiders scurrying to their nest. The padded edge of the tub pressed into her ribs as she forced herself upright, her arms shaking, her muscles weak. “Such clean little babies...” Mistress’s voice cooed sweetly. “Don’t you feel so much better now? Soak and relax, I’ll be back.” she teases before the speakers cut out. The air was heavy with the scent of soap and chemicals, and the greasy residue clung to Ivy. She pressed her back against the padded wall of the tub, her muscles weak and trembling from the violent scrubbing. The water churned lazily, and the suds slowly dissipated, revealing the contestants sprawled around the tub’s edge—exhausted, shivering, and humiliated. Ivy’s breath slowed, her heartbeat still hammering against her ribs. She wanted out — needed to be out. But glancing around the room, she realized there was nowhere to go. No towels. No clothing. No privacy. Nothing but cold tile floors and bare walls. If she climbed out now, she’d be left standing there, exposed and vulnerable, and she had endured enough of that already. The others came to the same conclusion. No one moved to leave. Instead, they lingered in the tub, backs pressed to the walls, bodies low beneath the surface — especially the girls, who desperately tried to conceal themselves in the remaining bubbles. Their faces were pale, their eyes wide with exhaustion and silent dread. Finn was closest to Ivy, his chest rising and falling in deep, measured breaths. He’d drawn his knees up to his chest, his arms resting loosely over them, a quiet tension set in his face. Jamie now sat slumped in the corner, his head tilted back, staring at the ceiling with a hollow expression. Mason muttered something under his breath, his voice too soft for Ivy to catch and his face tight with frustration. The water had settled now, the last of the bubbles dissolving into a faint, oily sheen. Ivy shifted uncomfortably, feeling the slickness coating her skin. Her fingers twitched in agitation, and she rubbed her arm absently, trying to wipe away the uncomfortable film. Her hand glided too easily over her skin, fingers slipping over unnaturally smooth flesh. Her brow furrowed. Something felt... wrong. Curious, Ivy reached beneath the water, her fingers tracing along her leg. Her skin was smooth — far too soft. The fine hairs that should have been there were... gone. Her breath hitched. Ivy’s fingers darted to her arm, tracing along the skin from her elbow to her wrist. Nothing. Just slick, bare skin. She sat up straighter, panic surging in her chest as her hands moved frantically, feeling her calves, her thighs, her stomach — all of it... completely hairless. Even the thin patch of hair that should have been below her navel was gone. Her hand shot to her face, running over her cheeks, her upper lip, her chin — smooth and bare. “No... no, no...” Ivy whispered, her voice barely audible. “What?” Finn’s voice was low, edged with concern. “What’s wrong?” Ivy swallowed hard. “I... I think... I think the water...” Her voice faltered. She held her arm out to Finn, her palm up. “Look.” Finn’s gaze flicked to her arm. His brow furrowed, and his hand shot to his forearm. She watched his face tighten as he realized it, too. “Son of a...” His voice trailed off. The others were catching on as well. Murmurs filled the air as contestants whispered to one another, hands running over their arms, legs, and faces. One of the girls let out a strangled gasp, her eyes wide as she clutched her bare chest, realizing just how vulnerable she now was. “No way...” Jamie muttered, fingers running through his hair — the one patch of hair they all seemed to have left. Ivy’s stomach twisted. Mistress’s syrupy words echoed in her mind — “Such clean little babies...” Her breath turned shallow, her body curling closer to itself, her arms folding tightly over her chest as though she could somehow will herself back to normal. Mistress hadn’t just humiliated them — she had stripped away their very dignity, their humanity. Like children... like infants... reduced to smooth, soft, helpless babies. All chapters are posted in full. 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