Stinky, Squishy & Proud

At the conclusion of season 1 (scene 41, The Searchers), we discussed the difference between Ego Love (controlling) and Authentic Love (generous and without expectation of return).  Sarah is definitely controlling, but it is her mind set as she deals with Tippi that suggests a closet sadist.  In contrast, Priscilla and Vickie are models of true love, not only in their dealings with Ian but also in their dealings with one another.  We have yet to see where Rita falls on this scale-- and what about Ian?  How can he protect his loved ones unless he controls their day to day lives?  This is the price that Priscilla is willing to pay.  How will the others respond when they learn the truth? 

Thank you for the kind words here! I like the thoughts about the Power X lacing and maybe you're onto something.🤔   7: Karma Hath No Mercy   That night Zoey slept with the weirdest and most vivid dreams she could have ever dreamt. One about being at school and wetting herself, other students laughing and making fun of her. She had another dream of going through a haunted house and looking down to find herself in a puddle of urine, only to be whisked away by a ghost and put in a diaper. She woke up from that one at 3AM, confused that she felt almost a… post orgasm glow? She hurriedly went to the bathroom, checking her panties to see them wet again like the day before. Zoey was a bit sweaty as she looked at herself in the mirror, wondering why she had such a hot and bothered dream about wetting and being diapered by a ghost. The weirdest part to her wasn’t even the ghost or the diaper but the warmth and excitement that traveled to her chest from embarrassment. Why did she have this uncanny desire to wear a diaper suddenly? The fuck was wrong with her? Zoey laid on her bed, feeling still hot and bothered. She decided to take care of the feeling, masturbating until release. She was breathing heavily after her moment of sweet release and felt parched. Zoey clambered off her bed and slowly crept out of the room. She padded down the stairs and to the kitchen, pouring some water in a glass she found in one of the cabinets. She walked out of the kitchen and almost peed herself as she saw a figure on the couch with a reading light on their book. Dr. Grey looked up and over to Zoey who nodded to him as he smirked, in an almost all-knowing way at what she had just done a few moments ago. His smirk vanished in seconds, “Are you okay, Zoey?” He asked in a quiet voice near her, as if he didn’t know why her cheeks were flushed and she had deer in the headlights look in the darkness. She gulped, a bit embarrassed as she nodded, “Yeah, just woke up and needed water is all.” He smiled warmly in the dark as he got up, “You should go back to sleep, little girl.” Zoey blinked at the end of his sentence… did he just call her a little girl? She shifted her weight onto one leg, feeling wet in two simple words leaving his mouth. The dream she just woke up from and the timing of his statement made her a bit woozy to think about. She didn’t say a word and went past him, up the steps. She went back into her room and went under her covers, still thinking of why she just touched herself moments ago to a ghost diapering her and why she wanted to touch herself again by a handsome doctor who just called her a little girl. Why did these things suddenly turn her on? She was tingling from the embarrassment, and it made no sense! Maybe she’d sleep it off… she thought to herself, getting comfortable and closing her eyes. She woke up that morning to smell of bacon from the dining hall. Zoey slowly got up, taking a shower, and getting into light blue jean shorts and a white v-neck. She ate her usual breakfast of a cinnamon roll with bacon, not bothering to talk to anyone, and went outside to the beach. She sat on the ground of the beach near the water again, letting the water wash over her feet spread out before her. She could hear someone approach as she looked back and up to Trident walking over with a half-crooked smile. He offered, “Hey.” He sat next to her on the beach, although not invited to join Glow, “What are you doing out here?” “Enjoying silence that you just broke.” Zoey said, standing and dusting the sand off her knees. “Your kind of bitchy, you know.” He said, looking forward. “Calling a woman a bitch is misogynistic. Setting boundaries for my mental health is different.” “I didn’t call you a bitch, just-“ “Ah, now mansplaining.” She was known on her social media platforms as a feminist influencer and knew how to bite back. Zoey cut him off with a roll of her eyes, “Go find some fish friends in the water, they are more willing to bed you than I am.” “I’m not just an animal, Zoey.” Trident said, standing as well and taking off his shirt. He looked back to her as she crossed her arms and looked at his six pack and gills that lined his abdomen. “Maybe I am to you, but maybe if you went in the water with me you’d know I’m as fun as I'm as good in bed. Maybe if you join me, I'd reconsider my statement from earlier.” He winked, stepping back as he turned and ran towards the water, diving in as his body rippled in scales. Zoey took a moment, her mind buzzing on if it was worth proving to Trident she wasn't so 'bitchy' and could be fun too. Zoey looked down to what she was wearing, knowing she didn’t have a bathing suit. It was a hot day and she could use something to cool her down after all. The water was quite tempting as she walked forward and muttered to herself, “Fuck it.” She did something unlike herself and took her shirt and shorts off. She was sure Trident saw many other women naked or in their underwear and she was no different. She walked to the water gradually until it was at her hips. She saw Trident’s head peak out of the water from far away, “C’mon, in farther Super Lightning Girl, I thought you were fearless!” He taunted, going underneath the water and quickly swimming towards her. Zoey glared in his allusion to her old ad campaign with the Agency about  Zoey decided to go forward that went off a sand bank and she was fully submerged. After a minute or two of swimming past the area where waves crashed, she got to an area where she was only floated by the water as it rose and fell, giving her stomach butterflies. Trident popped out a few feet away, “So the Lightning girl can swim, huh?” He asked, a flicker of mischief in his piercing blue eyes. She treaded the water, feeling a bit tired already, “This was fun but I think I’ll go back.” She began swimming back to shore as she felt a yank from his scaley hands and yelped, “Hey!” She then felt her bra undone and panties pulled off her in two rough pulls. She gasped and tried to claw them back as Trident had already artfully stolen her undergarments and swam away. “This is so not funny Trident!” She gasped as she realized she was now naked. He popped out of the water in a snicker, “Have fun going back naked.” He said before going back underneath the water and easily gliding back to shore. Zoey was beginning to feel that her roommates her were not friends but enemies, that was becoming apparent after one day. She watched Trident get out of the water, holding her panties and bra like a prize as he grabbed her other clothes on the beach. He turned to her and charmingly smiled, waving to her before heading back to the beach house. “Fucking asshole.” She muttered in the water as she treaded for a few moments later before she decided it was time for her to get to shore. She swam to the shore and covered her breasts with one hand and her lower half with the other hand. Zoey jogged to the beach house, hoping no one would see outside their balconies or windows. That’s what she didn’t need was Joey, Ivy or even Dr. Grey seeing her like this. It was beyond humiliating and embarrassing! She got to the door and braced herself for embarrassment as she walked briskly into the cool house. Zoey didn’t look as she quickly ran up the stairs to her room. By the time she got inside, she closed her door and sunk onto the ground as she cried from the humiliation. Lucky for Zoey, she didn’t think she saw anyone on the way in. After her cry, she took a long shower and got into new clothes, wondering what Trident would do with hers he stole. She redressed and looked at her bathroom’s clock, realizing it was almost time for her morning session with Dr. Grey. She briskly went down the stairs to his office as she passed Trident, Joey and Ivy snickering to themselves as she passed the living room area they all sat in. She flicked Trident off quickly before walking down the hall. She could hear the group mutter to each other as she approached Dr. Grey’s room. She knocked and heard him say, “Come in.” Zoey closed the door behind her and sat on the couch. She could use a nap after this morning and was slightly happy to know she’d get some good rest now with someone she felt safe with… well, the safest she could feel at least in the house at this point with two Supers who seemed to hate her. “How are you feeling Zoey?” Dr. Grey looked up from his laptop he was consumed in and saw her puffy eyes as if she just cried. “Okay.” She said as her eyes shifted down, thinking about what just happened. Dr. Grey’s eyes shifted, studying her lost green eyes and pouty pink lips. He’d love to coddle her in his arms but refrained from stepping out of line just yet. He got out his pocket watch and stood, walking over and handing her the pocket watch, “Let’s start then, hm?” She looked down to the watch with a nod and laid down, looking to the watch without hesitation. She didn’t notice Dr. Grey didn’t go back to his chair but stood over her, crossing his arms and smiling down at how adorable she was. She easily fell into an entranced state as her mind became consumed by the watch and his eyes glowed dark purple once more.   Zoey woke up an hour later with a cute stretch, shifting as she felt the same wetness as the day before in her panties. She felt euphoria from the nap, as if it were the best nap she’d ever taken. The meditative state she was put in must have been doing wonders! Zoey rubbed her eyes and looked to the doctor who was just watching her wake from her entranced state, “I fell asleep again, didn’t I?” “Mhm, it seems you did.” Humor played on his expression as he paused and she gave him a confused look, “You’re dismissed.” She stood with a nod, pausing for a moment at the door, “Uhm, Dr. Grey?” She looked back at him as he tilted his head to her. “Mhm?” He said, brown eyes studying her wild green ones behind his glasses. “Nothing.” She said, deciding to not say what was on her mind as after thinking about it, it seemed silly to ask. She was going to ask him about having weird and vivid dreams was normal after these sessions, even if she was asleep during them. She left before embarrassing herself any further than she already had done that day. That day progressed like the one before, she stayed mute during lunch and kept to herself, either reading or staying in her bedroom. At dinner she ate a pesto pasta quickly in silence as the other house mates talked amongst themselves. Joey tried to include Zoey in the conversation, “So… Zoey, where did you grow up?” Zoey looked up to the three who looked to her, “Uh-“ She swallowed a noodle, “Some small town in Indiana.” “Ahh, the classic storyline they like to spin.” Trident said, referring to they being the Agency. “Something like that.” Zoey said, swallowing another bit. “You know, I think I’ve always hated you since you act like you always have a stick up your ass.” Ivy said quickly, eyes glowing in annoyance, “Then, well, you electrocuted me and that just reenforced why I can’t stand you.” Ivy said in a monologue as Zoey drank her water in a few gulps, getting the feeling it was time for her to leave. “Well, you kind of had a turtle move to put roots on the ground and didn’t get anywhere close to Marcus. Someone had to finish the job and I had things to do-” Zoey stopped talking as she felt a vine wrapping around her ankle and encircling it quickly with an itchy and prickly feeling as it wove up her leg before she could move away from it. Zoey tried moving as she was planted on her chair and felt pain on her leg from a spiked vine digging into her soft flesh. She winced and quickly grabbed her water, “Don’t fuck with me and I will do it again.” The lights flickered as Zoey felt the energy of the room, knowing her threat couldn’t be empty with someone like Ivy. She felt the vine suddenly let go and retract as Ivy said, “It was just foreplay.” She winked and got up, leaving the room. Zoey felt her heartrate slow down after Ivy left, realizing she was grasping the other side of her chair and her knuckles were white. Zoey had taken many Super defense classes but had never fought a real Super outside of a setup Villain versus Hero duel. This was a new tier of crazy than Zoey was used too. Trident and Joey looked at each other, “Well, that was intense.” “I don’t get what her problem is.” Zoey said, drinking her water. “She’s probably jealous of another girl here or something.” Joey said sarcastically, going back to his pasta. Trident stabbed a noodle and looked to Zoey, “It’s because you’re more powerful, I’m sure. Ivy likes to dominate.” “Ew, didn’t want to know that.” Zoey said, throwing her napkin on the empty bowl, standing and glaring at Trident, “Also, if you steal my underwear again and the same threat stands for you.” She glared at Trident for a moment before she saw in the corner of her eye Dr. Grey walk over to the dining room. “And what threat is that?” He crossed his arms and leaning on the wall with narrowed eyes focused on Zoey. Zoey felt suddenly small and powerless near Dr. Grey. It seemed like he could discipline her in that moment, that’s the look he was giving her at least. His brown eyes smoldered as if awaiting her response. “Uhm…” She opened and closed her mouth in trying to think of making up a lie. “Electrocuting me.” Trident said, throwing Zoey under the bus quickly. Dr. Grey’s voice hit the air in a thick authoritative tone, “The rule of the beach house is not hurting others. If any of you would like to go against that rule, you will face consequences of your actions, understand?” Dr. Grey said it as if addressing the group, yet Zoey felt that it was solely directed to her as she wanted to curl in a ball from the sudden reprimand. Zoey nodded, walking past Dr. Grey briskly to not be reprimanded further and heading to her bedroom. She locked the door and hid underneath her covers from the situation she was in. She had never been in a facility that held people who made fun of her and threatened her… yet she had also never been somewhere that she wanted to stay for the comfort and feeling of freedom from social media, other’s opinions and her new lifestyle to do what she want, eat what she wants and act how she wants, even if it were offensive to others. For once, she didn’t have to act like something she wasn’t and that was nice. Zoey fell asleep early that night after an hour of ruminating in her bed over her living situation that made her feel conflicted internally.   She slept deeply and had more weird, yet vivid dreams about being diapered. She was captured and diapered this time by stuffed animals and they came over to her with sexual toys. The dream ended as she woke up moaning softly to an orgasm in the morning. She writhed as she rustled awake in her euphoric state, brushing her hair stuck to her face from the heat of the moment away. Zoey was shocked by how she woke, she had never woken up like this before! Zoey looked at the sun coming up that cast in a light pink and blue glow in her room. She looked to her alarm clock and saw it was 7AM which was early enough for her to get up. She got up and noticed a wet spot on her bed. She squinted at it in her slowly awakening state, gasping that she had not only orgasmed but may have wet the bed. Zoey touched the back of her pajama bottoms in horror to find they were also wet that confirmed she had peed in her sleep. Zoey went into the shower first, then gathered her sheets that were wet. She snuck out of her room to find the laundry room in the back left of the mansion she saw the cleaning ladies and chefs go, passing the workout room that someone was in. She cursed under her breath when she saw Dr. Grey inside working out. What were the odds he was awake and nearby!  Zoey thought in annoyance. Her eyes grazed him for a moment and how sexy he looked sweating and lifting weights at a shoulder press machine. She shook her head at herself before continuing to the last room that she found the washer and dryer in. She looked for detergent but couldn’t find it, wishing she had a light to see things. Zoey cursed at herself, wishing her superpower was better than just playing with lighting. That seemed to be as far as she could go and it was limited to what was already lit. If there was no light, she couldn’t do anything. It was a worthless power, truly. Zoey snuck back up to her room and debated what to do. Should she risk bringing her dirty sheets down and Dr. Grey seeing? Or should she wait and have her housemates potentially see? She didn’t have much time before the rest awoke. Zoey cursed to herself and gathered her sheets, shorts and panties wet from her sleep. She shuffled quietly down the stairs and to the back left hallway. Zoey froze as Dr. Grey was leaving the indoor gym, headphones still in. He paused as he saw Zoey standing with her sheets bundled in her hands. Dr. Grey tried to suppress his smile, knowing quickly why she had sheets in her hands, “Good morning, Zoey.” He nodded as she walked towards him, hoping he wouldn't follow and inquire what happened. “Good morning.” She said quietly, nodding to him but not looking up to him as she was about to pass him. She brushed past and he, to her demise, followed her to the laundry room, “I got the switch, no worries.” He flicked on the light, watching her walk to the washer. “Thanks. I don’t need help.” She muttered, holding the sheets and other things with now sweaty palms that he was so close. Dr. Grey watched as she looked to struggle opening the washer while still holding her dirty laundry. He opened the washer door for her as she quickly shoved her sheets and other items inside. “Thanks-“ Her eyes shifted around the room for detergent, “do you know where the detergent is?” “Here.” He said, grabbing the detergent from the shelf above that Zoey would have never been able to reach on her own and pausing as he saw her colorful pajama bottoms and other garments inside with the bright white sheets, “Colors and white shouldn’t be mixed-“ He lunged in, not giving her a moment as he picked up the bottoms and panties in a quick swoop, feeling the wetness of both, soaked in her urine. “I- uh- don’t! ” She said it too late as his face went thoughtful, eyes shifting down to hers in question of why her underwear and pajama bottoms were wet. Her face felt hot, like, really hot. That one look told her he knew and she didn’t have an option to get out of this one with a good lie anymore. Dr. Grey began the white load and placed her soiled clothes in the sink nearby, washing his hands after setting them down. He was silently relishing this sudden timidness of Zoey as she didn’t move, she didn’t speak and she just stood, awaiting his words. He turned to her and leaned on the sink in his dark grey workout shorts and black t-shirt that showed his muscular arms lined in veins Zoey couldn't help but glance quickly at, “How long have you been having these issues?” Zoey opened and closed her mouth, a bit taken aback that he was acting as if this wasn’t her first time ever doing this as an adult. “This was the first time I swear!” She said quicker than she intended in defense, slightly nervous by his tone and concerned look that she may actually need nightly protection. A flash of her being diapered by this specimen of a man made her knees weak by the thought. What was wrong with her? She didn’t like diapers until she showed at this place, damnit! He crossed his arms, studying her flushed face with a humorous flicker in his eyes, “Hm.” He nodded and began walking away, “If it happens again, I think we’ll need to revisit this conversation.” Dr. Grey stated before leaving her alone in the laundry room. “Fuck.” She said underneath her breath, not understanding what was going on with her and, most importantly, why she felt wet in excitement by the conversation.

Bicycle 

I like small or long chapters better than no chapter. Poor John feeling overwhelmed but he still get there.

THE PLOT THICKENS “Normally,” Becky explained as she entered the six digit code and waited for the door to open, “we share the access code to the Psych ward with law enforcement personnel as a professional courtesy. But I'm wondering, Officer Canon, whether we should make an exception in your case. Technically, Ian is one of our patients, and we have a strict policy in place to prevent any patient from obtaining the codes. So, if you don't want to keep secrets from him, I'd suggest that we keep you in the dark.” “Good idea,” Priscilla agreed. “Somebody can buzz us out when we're done here, but right now I need to change Secret Agent Man's diaper, and replenish our stock. We're just about down to using paper towels from the men's room.” “If there's one thing this ward has in abundance,” Reiko grinned, “it's diaper supplies. When you have some free time, ask Ian to describe his visit to the diaper changing room in the secure ward!” “Oh, yuck,” Ian shivered, remembering the stench. “That place needs to be fumigated … several times a day!” “In we go, Secret Agent Man.” Becky held the door open, waiting for the others to enter. “Do you really call him that?” “Yep.” Priscilla had a smug look on her face-- one of those smiles that communicated in unmistakable terms that she knew things the others didn't. “IAN!” Vickie had been sitting in her favorite chair, working up a report on the morning session with her current crop of alcoholics, when she had spotted him coming through the door. Jumping up, she rushed across the room to hug him close, love and fear for his well being animating her in equal measure. Ian hugged her tightly in return, while gently patting her bottom. It was clear that Vickie was once again well diapered. “Are you all right,” she asked as she stepped back to study him. "Another seizure ... ” “Priscilla was on top of it. Priscilla and Bernice Miller. Some of the girls helped too.” “Thank you.” Vickie hugged Priscilla in turn, her feelings heartfelt. It was a relief to know that Ian was in good hands when he was on campus. “No; thank you! Vickie, you figured that this might happen, and you took the time to teach me how to respond.” Priscilla reached into her pocket. “Now I carry smelling salts with me wherever I go-- a simple but effective first line of defense.” The two women hugged again, and this time Priscilla felt Vickie's diaper. “Practicing for tonight,” she asked with a grin. “Nope. 24/7 until I'm pregnant, and after the baby comes, postpartum incontinence is a real possibility because ...” Looking around, Vickie paused in mid-sentence. “Wha … what …? Oh, damn! Did I just let the cat out of the bag?” Priscilla had winced so hard that, for a second, Vickie wondered whether she had slapped her and not even known it. Becky's eyes had gone wide, and Reiko was looking down at the carpet, determined to avoid eye contact. Something was very, very wrong. “Ian, I ...” Vickie's voice faltered as she turned to face him. “I'm sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. We haven't talked about this … I mean … I mean the three of us have talked about it, and it's a big part of what Rita wants to discuss with you this afternoon. Having children, I mean … Damn it, I'm making such a mess of this!” Vickie ran out of steam as she stood there, watching a wave of pain wash across Ian's features, tears welling up in his eyes. Something was very, very wrong indeed, and she didn't understand what or why. Gently, Ian reached out to pull Vickie into his arms. His kisses were just as gentle. “I love you, Victoria,” he finally managed to say. And, yes, I want to start a family … with you … with all four of you. But ...” “All four of us,” Vickie interrupted. And then she realized that Ian was staring over her shoulder-- staring at Priscilla. “Oh,” was all she could manage as the truth dawned. An involuntary spurt of hot piss began to warm her diaper, and she sensed that it was only a matter of time before she filled it with the mushy poop to which the bottles of breast milk now condemned her. “Does Sarah know?” It was a lame question, but Vickie was at a loss for words. Priscilla clasped her arm, and Vickie turned in her direction. “It wasn't planned; it just sort of snuck up on us.” Priscilla was patting her arm now. “And I want to have children, too … and for Secret Agent Man here to be the father.” She smiled at Ian, happier than she had ever been in her life, knowing now that he wanted more children. “But there's so much about me that you don't know,” Ian quietly continued, ignoring the interruptions. “So much that all of you need to know, and that I can finally share with you. So many sacrifices that you are going to have to make ...” “I don't understand.” Vickie was utterly lost. “Sacrifices?” “Loving Ian … having children ...” Priscilla did not want him to bear the burden of disclosing this truth alone. “There's a price to be paid, Vickie, and it's high. But I'm going to pay it ...” “So you know what this is all about?” Vickie looked at Reiko and Becky, and finally grasped that they must know at least a part of it as well. “I found out yesterday afternoon … sharing in a three way telephone conversation that was a tad unusual. And last night, Ian laid most of it out a second time, at the sorority house. That's why we're here, Vickie: there's a good chance that the story will get out, and if it does, it will spread like wildfire. Ian and I most definitely do not want you to hear about what really happened in Viet Nam at second hand. You and Sarah … Rita … the three of you … maybe others here … deserve to learn the truth from him, so we don't have the luxury of waiting until Saturday night. It has to be now; just let me change his diaper first.” “About Sarah ...” “No, Ian.” There was no give in Priscilla's tone. “She needs to be here. Marcia is right … you are punishing yourself to assuage your guilt, and I'm putting a stop to it. From now on, the four of us are in charge, and if you need a spanking or a time out, one of us will see to it. There will be no more self-flagellation-- not physical, not emotional.” “Marcia Mason,” Becky elaborated when she saw that Vickie had no idea what was going on. “I think we're going to need the conference room, so while the two of you are changing his diaper, Reiko and I will brief Rita, get Sarah up here, and track down Candy and Marge. And Ian ...” Becky held out her hand. “This will go a lot more smoothly if Rita sees the photograph.” Becky was right, and Ian knew it. He pulled out his wallet, removed the snapshot, and surrendered it without a word. “Let me ...” “No, Vic; not here.” Becky was adamant. “Please … wait for Sarah. Don't force Ian to explain this more than once.” Not giving Vickie a chance to protest, Becky and Reiko headed for Rita's office. Feeling abandoned and bewildered, Vickie led Priscilla and Ian down the corridor to the supply room. She stood tamely by while Priscilla helped herself to diapers, and then escorted the pair to a room equipped with a changing table housing an abundance of wipes, lotions and powder. Watching the policewoman efficiently attack Ian's dirty bottom with wet wipe after wet wipe before powdering him and pinning him into a nice, clean diaper, Vickie could not help but wonder whether Priscilla would soon be attending to her diaper changes as well. There seemed to be a lot of Sarah in the policewoman, but would that make them natural allies, or mutual enemies? . . . . For the Carlson household, the night had bordered on forever. After watching Cindy being perp walked in front of the ghouls who reported the late night news, her sister Andrea had run screaming to her room, slamming the door behind her, certain that she would never again be able to show her face at school. Her boyfriend would dump her, she had declared, and she would be forever banished from the cheerleading squad. Her locker would be overflowing with diapers (probably used), and Felicity Gundy and the rest of the Gloom and Doom Squad would hound her with pacifiers and baby bottles. Did convents take sixteen year old virgins? As for Cindy's parents, Andrew and Emily had stayed up all night, waiting for the phone call that never came. When Marilyn Marsden did finally telephone with good tidings, the two of them hugged and kissed before debating their next move. A small town in rural Kansas was beginning to sound awfully good. When Andrew finally summoned up the courage to drive to work, he knew that he was in for it as soon as he pulled into the parking lot. Having the parking spot closest to the front door was one of the perks of owning your own company, but this morning the sign prominently reading RESERVED FOR THE PRESIDENT was festooned with all manner of pink ribbons. The President's spacious office was on the fourth floor, at the end of a long corridor, facing west to capture the often splendid sunset through the floor to ceiling plate glass window. It was truly a magnificent view, but this morning he found himself sharing it with a teddy bear that appeared to be about four feet tall. Predictably, Teddy was sporting a diaper and ruffled pink baby pants, with a matching bonnet and a bib decorated with pink lambs and dancing unicorns. Andrew's desk was piled high with diapers and baby bottles-- all pink, of course-- and a variety of pacifiers. One of them was so large that at first glance he mistook it for a dildo, but on reflection he thought how adorable Cindy would look sucking on it at the annual family Christmas dinner. If Cindy truly wanted to go back to wearing diapers, he was certain that Emily would be delighted once more to have a baby in the house, if only for the few weeks between the fall and winter terms. Maybe Andrea would enjoy changing her, Andrew mused, and I'd like to be a fly on the wall at Emily's next get together with Bernice Miller. Emily was a senior when Bernice took over the house, and over the years they have spent endless hours organizing the Winter Carnival, decorating for the Formals … wonder how Bernice is going to explain this disaster to all the alumnae who still regard the house as an extension of their family? . . . . “Knock, knock.” “What is it this time, Vic? I'm busy.” Enmeshed in her paperwork, Rita didn't look up until Becky cleared her throat. When she did, she grinned sheepishly. “Sorry, Becks, but I swear to God that you've got her entrance down cold. You even sound like … her.” Rita's voice trailed off when she saw the grim look on Becky and Reiko's faces. “What's up,” she managed to ask. “Is Marge still doing rounds inside?” Becky was referring to the secure ward. Rita nodded, still wondering what was up. “And Candy?” "In the conference room; her group is running late.” “Can we use it over the next hour?” “Sure … want to tell me what for?” “I'll go find Marge,” Reiko said as she slipped out the door. “The Circle can't wait until Saturday night. Call Sarah, and tell her to drop everything and get up her now!” “Becky, enough with the drama, already. What is this all about?” “Ian. He's here with that policewoman. Right now, Vickie is helping them replenish his diaper supply, which is running on empty. Then, after the officer changes him, she'll bring them here. Rita, right now Vickie is running on autopilot because it's clear as day that Ian and the lady cop are madly in love, but somehow, not at her expense. And that's the smallest part of what's going on.” “THE SMALLEST PART?” Rita was flabbergasted. “The smallest part,” she repeated more calmly. “Yes,” Becky nodded. “Right now, there are forty-one sorority girls down in the cafeteria being interviewed by Gayle Soderberg and Marcia Mason-- the diaper thieves. Ian brought them here; part of their punishment is to do community service as candy stripers until they graduate, and he's trying to arrange it.” “Typical Ian,” Rita sighed, her relief evident. “Anyone who needs a helping hand ...” “He didn't adopt Don and Phil.” Becky cut her off in mid sentence. “He's adopted all forty-one of these girls.” “That's ridiculous,” Rita scoffed. “You can see it in his eyes and hear it in his voice,” Becky went on. “Last night, at the sorority house, the girls were at each other's throats, and to pull them back from the brink, he told them what happened to him in Viet Nam-- the parts that we have yet to hear. And it worked! Forty-one of the fifty-two girls in the house went to court this morning and pled guilty, including some who weren't even involved! He took them into his heart, and they responded. So, now he's a surrogate parent to an entire sorority, and I pity the chances of anyone who threatens to harm so much as a hair on one of their heads. Rita, we tend to forget that Ian is a hardened combat veteran … a highly trained specialist in handing out death, with plenty of it in his background. And he's wallowing in guilt … guilt far worse than what we have imagined. If someone threatens one of his daughters ...” “He'll explode.” Rita nodded. It was all so obvious. “What have you learned?” She was on her feet now, thinking ahead to what needed to happen in the conference room. “Apparently only a small part of what Priscilla … what the policewoman has learned. She and Marcia went at it in the cafeteria. Priscilla says that it's so bad that he needs to dance around the edges, while Marcia correctly points out that it's the darkest parts of his trauma that are the wellspring of his guilt. She's urging him to get it all out, and to get a new therapist if it's too dark for Vickie … for any of us … to hear.” “Come on, Becky … what have you learned?” In response, Becky took the photograph out of her pocket, and passed it over. “Ian's wife. Her name was Nguyen. She's dead, Rita … massacred along with everyone else in the village except for the babies and smallest children. His daughter was taken … and all these years later, Linh is still missing. She must be nine or ten now.” “Oh, Dear God!” Rita could not stop her hand from shaking, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Oh, Dear God,” she repeated, choking on the words. “Was it My Lai?” Rita's voice had grown very small. “No, not My Lai. It's all being covered up, and in the shadows the CIA is looking all over the world for his daughter. They think that whoever did this was after the little girl, gambling that she would inherit her father's gift. None of us really appreciate how rare Ian is, and how valuable, though it's plain to see in his passport if only we stretch our imaginations.” “The guy's been everywhere,” Rita whispered, remembering how she had compared her own milquetoast existence to his just the night before. “He wants to have more children; that's the good news.   But Priscilla says that there are strings attached, and that's what the three of you need to find out. And you probably don't have much time-- too many people have heard the whole story, including people in this building.” . . . . “Do I want to be present for this conversation?” Ian was lying on a changing table, with Priscilla hovering over him to the right, and Vickie to the left. Priscilla had removed his thoroughly soaked and dirty diaper, cleaned him up, and was now in the process of powdering him. She would be finished in less than a minute, and he was not at all sure what would happen next. “One hurdle at a time, Secret Agent Man.” Priscilla winked at Vickie, who had remained silent throughout the diaper changing ritual. “I haven't had a chance to tell you, but I had a heart to heart with my parents over breakfast. Last night? You won my mother over, Ian; after what you did for the girls, she's your biggest fan.” “And your Dad?” “He thinks we're all nuts, but he knows that he's outnumbered and outgunned. He's coming along tonight, so you'll have a chance to win him over too. I'm looking forward to seeing the two of you doing the male bonding bit over tequila shots.” “I'm a tequila snob,” Vickie confessed; “if we're doing shots, I want Don Julio Blanco.” “A true connoisseur,” Ian laughed. “Personally, I prefer rot gut, especially when playing by Hong Kong Rules. When I run out of cash, I want to be well and truly tanked!” “I'm with Vickie on this one!” Priscilla grinned. “After all, we ladies do have delicate stomachs-- and our bar is well stocked with high end tequila! Reposado, anyone?” “So, are you two going to make this work?” “I'm not possessive, Ian,... you know that.” Vickie was pensive. “If you love Priscilla, then she has my vote … to join our household, I mean. Of course, I can't speak for Rita or Sarah.” “Thank you, Vickie.” Priscilla reached across the table to grip Vickie's arm. “My Dad isn't thrilled, but my Mom is good with this, and that means a lot to me. And don't worry about Sarah and Rita. When we all sit down and Ian takes the floor, a lot of things that people take for granted around here are going to be thrown overboard.” “The photograph ...” “A good place to start. It's just that … some of the details … Vickie, I don't want you … any of you … to hear some of what he told me yesterday. Please, if his therapist has to know what Ian saw when he got out of the hospital and went back to Viet Nam, I'm begging you to send him to someone else. I don't want you to do this.” “I'm sorry, Priscilla, but I'm going to see this through to the end. I wouldn't be very good at my job if I couldn't handle blood and gore-- and the worst that the human imagination can summon to the surface.” “I didn't sleep well last night, and I've seen some bad car wrecks.” “And I've had sessions where I had to go out and get raging drunk in order to get the demons out of my head. Priscilla, this is part of the price that our professions demand of us.” “Vickie, it involves children,” Ian warned. Vickie reached out to clasp his hand, and stared deeply into his eyes. “Do you really want to have children?” “If I have anything left in the tank,” Ian said as he reached for her, “I want to have a family more than anything.” “Well, the good news is that, unless the lab botched the sperm sample that Candy collected from you in the hydrotherapy chamber, you are ridiculously fertile. And by some miracle, the three of us are still capable of bearing children, although the clock is definitely ticking. So, with four of us ...” Vickie paused to look at Priscilla. “Ready, willing, and definitely able,” she laughed. “So, with four of us wanting to get pregnant,” Vickie continued, “you might not get a lot of sleep once we all get settled.” “I, for one, am planning on keeping you very busy,” she leered as she ran a finger over his well powdered but still exposed shaft. “Your crib or mine,” Ian asked affectionately. And then he turned serious. “Right now, I don't want to plan too far ahead … not until you've heard the whole of it.” “It's that bad?” Vickie's eyes had grown large. Ian nodded. “On many levels” he added enigmatically. . . . . Rita swiveled in her chair, a nervous habit that told her colleagues and friends that she was deep in thought. She was peering out the window, but her eyes were blind to the view. She went over all of it in her mind. She had written the script, planned everything out. A heart to heart in the afternoon with Ian to explore his feelings about children … buying Vickie and Ian some time at the bar, and with it time for her to work on Sarah, get her to ease off. Then the grand finale on Saturday night, with Ian taking center stage and the Circle laying the foundations for their new household. And it had all just blown up in her face. “You're right.” Rita picked up the phone, and dialed Sarah's extension from memory. “Sarah, it's Rita. You need to get up here right now!”