Diapers in the News

The scale of this party exceeded anything Rebecca had expected! This was a full form party for with loud noises, punch, etc. Thank god for Olivia and Lauren setting up that quiet corner because if it wasn’t there Rebecca would be having a panic attack! Regardless, Rebecca seemed to be doing fine for now, though clearly a little drained.    “Mhm..” she nodded before asking the leader this, “What do we have?”

Hannah comes to get the guest of honor so they can give her her shirt.  In a quick ceremony, they give her a purple shirt rolled up.  And then the party starts   "Would you like some food, Rebecca?" She asks, trying to be a good host

Absolutely right! That is why I recommended the Sissy Room. Books are read through the prism of the author, with what they thought is important. Forums contain the words and thoughts of those living the life, what you might call "ballet slippers on the ground". Somewhere in that would be access to the sissy sites which have more information and even some sissy lit although that would be more likely in Story and Art. As usual DD has a line on what you can use. You can pick out the sissy sites from the Knowledge Base in my siggy. When you and she have all that, you have the basis for discussions since you will be operating from the same data and premisies So there is plenty of first-hand material right at home here

Jennifer had never seen Matilda look so excited. The girl was bouncing up and down in her seat, torn between giving her mom a grand toothy smile and glancing out the little airplane window. It was both their first time flying and her energy was contagious. Jennifer held her little hand in hers, rubbing her thumb across the top of her knuckles to ease her own nerves.   “Did you know airplanes fly at 35,000 feet because the thinner air saves fuel?” Matilda asked.  Jennifer couldn’t help but laugh at Hortensia’s dismayed face.   “It’s a short flight.” Jennifer reassured her. “Only three hours.” Three hours until they’d be safe on the ground.   “Three hours with D.Y.K.?” Hortensia lamented. “Where’s the parachute? I’m bailing out.”   “Did you know…”   Twenty minutes after taking their seats, the plane began to taxi its way onto the runway. In another five, their bodies were pressed back from the force of the speed. Both girls began to giggle like mad, but a weight began to form in Jennifer’s stomach. She couldn’t shake the growing sense that something was wrong. Instead of looking out the window as the plane began its ascent to watch the landmarks below begin to disappear, her eyes were searching the cabin.   The unseen sense of dread was beginning to spread as they climbed, but no matter how much she inspected the cabin and other passengers, she couldn’t quite put her finger on why. The hair on her arms began to rise. Her legs were antsy. Why did she cave to a twelve-year-old and agree to the middle? She was the one who was eight months pregnant. The things she did for love… With her left hand, she gripped the armrest separating her and Hortensia and with her right clutched Matilda’s.   Higher and higher the plane climbed. They had left the city far behind and were now making their way through the white puffy clouds. Jennifer stole a glance out the window. The view was breathtaking. If only she could enjoy it…   “At least D.Y.K. crawled back into its hole.” Hortensia said, stretching her legs (as much as one could in an airplane). Jennifer frowned. Matilda had grown very quiet in what should have been an exciting moment for her. She turned to look, expecting the small girl's face pressed against the glass in wonder. Instead of enjoying the view- something she had fought Hortensia over for days if not weeks leaving Jennifer no choice but to step in and host a rock-paper-scissors tournament for the window seat- she had her head in her hands.   “Oh, honey you’re not getting motion sickness are you?” If she was already feeling ill this early, it was going to be a very long flight.   “My head hurts.” Her voice was quiet. Jennifer had to lean close to hear her over the roaring plane engines.   “It’s just the altitude.” Jennifer said, not sure if she believed it herself. She put the seat divider up and placed an arm around her daughter and held her head to her chest, gently stroking her arm up and down. “Just close your eyes and rest; we’ll be on the ground before you know it.”   The unease continued to expand in her chest until she could hardly breath normally. Matilda had gone from slightly moaning to full on sobbing. They needed to get off this plane! She didn’t even know why they were flying. Why couldn’t she remember? She turned towards Hortensia to ask, but the girl was no longer there. Instead, her seat's occupant had been replaced by a clown holding a single red balloon the size of a basketball.   Matilda pushed herself away from Jennifer and began to rock back and forth in her seat, head clamped between her hands. Jennifer searched the aisles for a flight attendant, but the clown’s red balloon (Was it bigger now?) was blocking her view. Matilda began to scream, her fingers stretched into claws which pressed down into her face. Up and up the plane soared, rising higher and higher into the air. Her daughter’s agonized wails of pain filling the cabin.   Still no one turned. Not a single curious glance. Not one reproachful look. No concern. No notice. The red balloon was now hovering between her and Matilda, pressing against her face and torso now the size of a beach ball and pinning Jennifer’s arms to her sides. She fought against it, desperate to get to Matilda. She could just make out her figure through the red latex. “Matilda!” she cried.   Five things happened in quick succession. The captain came on over the loudspeaker and announced they had reached their cruising altitude as Jennifer dug her teeth into the latex barrier, making it pop. The seats, window, and Jennifer were now coated in thick chunky red substance. She let out an ear piercing scream. Matilda’s head had just exploded.   …   Carol jolted awake at the sound of a woman’s terrified shrieks came from the baby monitor perched atop Matilda’s dresser. Another one? She lifted her head off the pillow and strained to hear if Matilda would call out for help or not. She could hear her trying to wake Jenny up and calm her down followed by cries of pain. Finally it came.   “Mrs. Rodgers, I need your help.” She took a deep breath before pushing herself up and out of the warmth of the blankets and into the chilly air. Shivering, she threw her bathrobe on and made her way towards the master bedroom.   Carol was up at least three times a night with her either dispensing pain medication or helping her to the restroom. Matilda offered to do it, but Carol didn’t trust giving her any responsibilities quite yet. She was hoping to let her sleep. Her face had lost its sag, and her speech was returning to its normal cadence, but it was still clear the kid needed a break (whether said kid in question knew it or not). Although how much sleep Matilda was getting was another story. She looked as exhausted as they all felt. If it wasn’t for her back, she’d offer to let Matilda keep her room and she’d sleep on the couch, but it would all be for naught if she needed to be waited on as well. She briefly rapped her knuckles on the door before entering, pill bottle in hand.   “Y-y-y-our head exploded!” Jenny sobbed as Matilda was trying to comfort her. She had her elbow craned around the girl's neck and was holding her as close as she could without making contact with her stomach. It looked like she was putting the kid in a headlock, and judging by her face turning a bright shade of red it was having the same effect. Carol stepped in before she could choke the girl out.   “Jenny, it’s alright. It was just a dream.”   “I know.” she said with a sniffle. She wiped at her face with the back of a hand, but still held on to Matilda as if she feared letting her go would mean the end of her.   “Jen, she needs to breathe. Let her go.” She held up her hands in a placating gesture feeling like a hostage negotiator. Jenny looked down, noticed the grimace on Matilda’s face and released her with a nearly endless stream of apologies. She rubbed her back as Matilda coughed and tried to catch her breath.   When it rained it poured, and for Jenny it seemed to be monsoon season. The day they had returned from the hospital Carol had found nearly a dozen messages on the answering machine ranging from the staff of Town Truth asking her for an interview to the school board wanting to set up a meeting to talk. Sensing nothing good would come from either, Carol had promptly deleted them all, but not before Matilda (who had been sitting at the table working on a puzzle) had heard. They had both exchanged a look of worry. This couldn’t have come at a worse time.   By the time she had administered Jenny’s medicine, helped her to the restroom and got her settled again, Matilda looked to be fast asleep. “Are you going to be alright?” Carol had been asking her that a lot lately. Waking up the house by screaming seemed to be becoming a habit of hers. While she did say she suffered from nightmares on occasion, they hadn’t been this frequent in years. They seemed to have a recurring theme-Matilda’s untimely demise. Last night had been by choking, and yesterday afternoon she had drowned.   “She’s going to be fine.” Carol whispered. “She’s doing a lot better.” Still Jenny’s eyes never left Matilda.   “It’s killing me that I can’t hold her.” She reached over and softly brushed the girl's hair with her finger tips, but even reaching over seemed to cause her great discomfort.   “Do you want to try going back to sleep or do you want to read for a bit?” She wanted to know if she should flick off the light on her way out or not. Jenny’s eyes drifted to the book on her nightstand ( a ginormous paperback the size of an encyclopedia)  and her lip curled with distaste. Curious, she peeked over at what she had been reading and shook her head. “Horror novels before bed may not be the best thing for you in your current state, especially not ones about children getting murdered.” Jennifer flashed an apologetic grimace of agreement.   “I wanted something long I wouldn’t finish in a single afternoon and it’s not like i’ve never read Stephen King before. It’s quite good, but I wasn’t expecting it to get under my skin like this. Now I’m dreaming about clowns and red balloons.”   “How far are you?”   “A couple hundred.” Jenny yawned. “One of the characters has a dad that really cares about his daughter. It’s sweet.” She yawned again. “Maybe I will go back to sleep.”   Carol tiptoed over and took the book away before flicking out the light. She sure as hell wasn’t reading this right now.   “Goodnight girls.”   “I’m a grown woman.”   “Only children see the clown.”   As Carol returned to her room and climbed back into bed a thought crossed her mind. Jenny didn’t seem very focused on why she was in this situation to begin with. She only had eyes for Matilda. She hardly even mentioned the baby when before it was all she could ever talk about. Carol thought she’d be more…enthusiastic when she learned she was still pregnant. Life had finally thrown her a bone. But she seemed more reserved than normal. She didn’t know what Jenny had been thinking, letting a non-viable fetus grow. She didn’t know then and she didn’t know now. All she did know was Jenny’s mental state seemed to be deteriorating. She jumped when the phone rang. Cowered when someone approached the door. Just what had been going on around here?   …   Carol stopped at the landing at the foot of the stairs to admire the view outside. A thick white frost covered the lawn and trees outside. The air was quiet and still that morning-until it wasn’t. A pair of giggling girls could be heard coming from downstairs. At first, she was relieved. Their near constant bickering was driving her mad, but then a new feeling overcame her. Suspicion.   Curious, she stalked down as quiet as a mouse and poked her head into the kitchen. There she could see both of them sitting atop the washing machine as it rumbled underneath them. She pinched the bridge of her nose in exasperation before coming into view.   “What do you think you two are doing?” Carol asked, hands on her hips. Both girls fell quiet. “And whose idea was this, I wonder?” Hortensia pointed to Matilda, causing Carol to raise a brow in doubt. “Right, sure it was.” she said, half teasing.   Finally, Matilda spoke up in a timid voice, “you said to go have fun.” Well, she did say that, but that was because she saw her ironing Jenny’s dresses, and even Carol was growing tired of her OCD-like cleanliness. Just because there was a single crumb on the floor did not mean she needed to run the vacuum. And Carol herself had come to discover there was no such thing as a spotless house with Hortensia living there- the kid had a dirt cloud following her like Pigpen from Peanuts.   “I meant go play outside or something- not pretend to be Annie Oakly on the appliances. Both of you should know better. Get down.”   Matilda frowned. “I saw mom doing it.”   Carol froze for a moment before pressing a fist to her mouth to keep from laughing. Oh, was she now? She gave the room a glance, put a finger to her lip and turned the knob on the washing machine from normal load to heavy. Both girls burst into giggles as their ride began to double its effort to buck them off. At least they weren't fighting…   …   By the time Jenny had woken up and hobbled her way downstairs on this particular Thursday morning, they were all snowed in. School had been canceled for everyone in the district according to the news anchor. Hortensia hooped and hollered in excitement. Carol didn’t know what she was so happy about. Wasn’t she practically homeschooled at this point?   “Well, good thing you live with your teacher.” Carol teased, before laughing at Hortensia’s crestfallen expression.   “Jenny! Do I really have to do school when everyone else gets the day off?”   “Yes.” Matilda butted in from her place at the kitchen table, school books already opened. Hortensia rolled her eyes and muttered a few choice words under her breath, earning herself a flick in the forehead from Carol.   “The only one that can get away with language like that is Olivia.”   Hortensia scowled and rubbed at her head. “Who’s that?”   “My granddaughter, she’s coming down this weekend. She’s only a year older than you.” Carol seemed to frown for a moment. “I don’t know if you two meeting is a good thing or not.”   “And why does she get to swear and I can’t?”   “She can’t help it; she’s got tourette’s.” Matilda finally surfaced from her book.   “Olivia’s coming? Really?”   “She still hasn’t forgiven you for creaming her at chess by the way.” Matilda grinned, her eyes going wide with excitement.   “She has the coolest chess board, Tens! The pieces can move on their own and they talk and-” Matilda stopped as Carol gave an almost panicked cut throat motion. “Oh, sorry.”   “She can’t bring her, um, electronic chess board this time. School rules.” Matilda deflated at this. “She wasn’t supposed to bring it last time either, she told me she got in a spot of trouble over it with her professors. Oh, and if you can, try not to do your, um, thing. They can’t seem to differentiate you two, and we don’t need a flood of owls at the house.”   Hortensia’s head swiveled as if she was watching a tennis match. “Why would there be owls?” She finally asked.   Jenny finally seemed with it enough to join in on the conversation. “You don’t need to stay here this weekend. If you want to spend time with Olivia, please feel free.” Carol eyed them all for a moment. She didn’t think it was such a great idea leaving them on their own quite yet. It was fine to run errands for a few hours, but a whole weekend was still out of the question.   The phone began to ring and Carol stood to get it before Jenny could ask who was calling. She had a feeling she was starting to get suspicious of her and Matilda’s antics. Before Carol could get out of the room, Jenny spoke. “Carol,” she said softly, “just let me get it over with. I know.”   She eyed her for a moment. “Know what? That you could save fifteen percent if you remortgage your house with Evershield?”   “I know.” Jenny said. Carol was about to refute this, but Jenny held up the newspaper in her hands. “I made the paper.” she said, a bitter smile on her face. Tears began to fill her eyes, but she blinked them away. “I can’t avoid them forever.”   Damn small towns with nothing better to print, Carol thought as she answered the phone. It was them. She looked to Jenny who was motioning for her to bring her the phone. “Yes, I’ll get her. Please hold for a moment.” She went upstairs and brought her the cordless handset and went into the kitchen, dragging Hortensia with her to give her some privacy. She could hear Jenny going back and forth listening to her one sided conversation.   “No, I did not have an abortion.” “No, I am not kidnapping children.” “No. I did not have an incestuous relationship with my aunt- no, I didn’t kill her either.” There was silence for a few moments. “Can I go back to teaching or- I see.”   After what felt like forever, Jenny hung up and let out a large sigh.   “I hated that job anyway.” she said in a small voice when Carol returned. “Management isn’t for me.” She could see tear tracks down her face.   “The kids loved you.”   “And I loved them.” Jenny let out a humorless laugh. “In the end, that’s what they're afraid of. I can’t even come back and teach. I’m not allowed within a hundred yards of the school.”   “They can’t possibly believe all that nonsense.”   “They said they understand the allegations are most likely unfounded, but they can’t risk someone with those kinds of rumors floating around  the kids.”   “I’m sorry, Jen.” She squeezed her hand before putting an arm around her and pulling her close. That’s when Jenny began to cry in earnest. “I don’t know why this is all happening to you, but it couldn’t be happening to a less deserving person.” She let Jenny cry herself into exhaustion until she laid out in her lap as she brushed strands of hair from her face.   “You don’t need to hide things from me.” Jenny said, stirring before getting comfortable again.   “You had so much going on. All this stress isn’t good for the baby. Or you.” She could feel the muscles in her shoulders tense. All the nightmares and crying jags. She could easily chalk it up to hormones, but this wasn’t like her eating half her body weight in pickles. Things could get even more tricky from here on out. She seemed likely to suffer from postpartum depression, and that was if the baby made it to full term. She didn’t want to know what would happen if she lost this one too.   “I’m afraid to get attached.”   “You already are. I saw that room.”   Jenny let out a soft chuckle, but her next words were so full of despair Carol could physically feel it like a weight on her chest.  “I lost him. And I almost lost her, all because she thought I wanted a baby more than her. I did that. I put that thought in her head. I never meant to send her that message. Carol- she- she was trying to sacrifice herself for me, that’s why she’s like this. It’s all my fault! She was trying to give me her powers to save the baby.”   “Jenny,” Carol crooned, rubbing her shoulder. “That’s not possible. As much as I condone your actions, this isn’t your fault. This is neurological. This has probably been building up for a long time. I don’t know what higher power you pissed off to make this happen now of all times-”   “The councilman.”   “The councilman isn’t a God. And what in the bloody hells is going on with the councilman? Matilda says he’s evil and hands me a drawn picture of, well, It needs not repeating. Another Hortensia creation, let’s leave it at that. I’ve had a talk with her about keeping her artwork away from underage children by the way. I’d tell her not to draw stuff like that, but-”   “Her therapist wants her to get it out. I think it’s her way of telling her story. She may not always be honest, but something I noticed, her sketches don’t lie. I don’t think even she herself is aware of it. And they're not all obscene. There’s so much raw emotion in them. Ask her to show you the ice cream comic and you’ll see. She may not show it, but she loves Matilda.”   “I hope your art criticism is better than your reading comprehension right now.” Carol said. (I care about you Bev, I care a lot.) “Those two never stop bickering.”   “Yeah, they bicker, but they never fight. She never takes her aggression out on her. Sometimes, yes there’s words exchanged, but I don’t have to worry about her physically hurting her. Maybe I’m just fortunate she doesn’t know French, Matilda likes to save the worst of her insults in French.’   They sat in silence for a few minutes until Jenny broke it by announcing she’d do a great number of unsavory things for a shower.   “I can’t wait for these staples to come out!” she groaned. “How do they expect people to go two weeks without a shower!”   Carol let out a chuckle. “My offer still stands.” Jenny groaned. “Feel your hair, girl!” She held out a clump of it between her fingers. “Birds are going to be moving in to nest in it before you get these staples out.”   “I know but…” she grumbled the last part.   “There’s nothing weird about someone washing your hair. Hell, it’s my favorite part of going to the salon.” There was silence.   “Oh, Is that all?” Jenny chuckled. “I was worried you were going to give me a bath.”   “You let me put my fingers inside of you. Would me wiping you down with a washcloth really be that bad?” She could see her face turning a bright shade of red.   “Don’t say it like that!” She grumbled, hiding her face underneath her palms. “And yes. I haven’t shaved in like two months.”   “And I haven’t shaved since 1986, after I wipe you down we can go out in the backyard and burn our bras.” Jenny gave her a puzzled look. “Before your time. Up. I didn’t want to tell you this, but you smell worse than Hortensia’s bedroom.”   “I do not!” But she had gone quiet once she pulled the collar open on her nightgown and sniffed. “Okay.” she said softly, relenting.   After commadering Matilda’s plastic chair from her bedroom and placing it in Jenny’s bathroom, she got to work. She was halfway through washing her hair when she said. “So what’s this I hear you have a new boyfriend?” Jenny, whose eyes had been clamped shut briefly opened them and gave her a confused look. “First name Ken. Last name Moore.” Carol said with a grin. She could see the gears slowly turning in her mind as she put the two names together and finally the connection was made. Carol laughed as Jenny’s eyes widened with horror and her mouth hung open, letting out a pitiful moan. “You know they make these things called vibr-”   “Yes, yes I know.” Jenny grumbled. “It was a moment of weakness.”   ”Have you let your baby daddy know he’s still on the hook?”   “Ugh, no. I haven’t even thought of him with everything going on.”   “I have to admit I’m impressed with how well you handled the break up, but I thought you’d be more…I don’t know, heartbroken. He was your first after all.”   “No time to dwell on it, really. Everything with Hortensia, then Matilda, and then the baby, there’s nothing left in me. Maybe I would have been heartbroken if there weren't a million other more important things to worry about.”   “So there’s nothing holding you here. Good. Have you given any thought of moving?” Jenny scrunched up her face.   “Why would I move? This is my home.”  Carol sighed. She didn’t want to have to spell it out.   “Jenny, this thing with the councilman… how far are you going to take this?” Jenny creased her eyebrows. “He’s the one who's been making your life hell, hasn’t he?”   “I tried calling the NCA, but they said there’s nothing they can do without proof. I said what about Hortensia? Isn’t that proof enough and they said they would look into it. Next thing I know I’m getting pulled over by the bobbies and accused of being intoxicated.”   “Jen,” Carol shut off the sink and looked her in the eye.  “Is there any chance at all you're mistaken? Any chance he’s only retaliating for getting in the way of his re-election?”   “It’s what I wanted to believe at first. I kept going to the police after… after… after that night in the emergency room.” Her voice broke down. “ Tens’  was so scared. She slept in my bed with me for a week. She would hardly leave my side, and she was even soiling herself for weeks after.”   “I know she was…assaulted. That’s a fact. But I thought the guy was already captured. She said it was the youth pastor and he tested positive. Where does the councilman come in? ”   “Rumors started spreading about Hortensia. Members of her old church started to harass us, but the police would do nothing about it. They stopped talking to me, and then one day I found a note on my car that said pressure was coming from the top to drop the charges. The councilman’s personal lawyer has told me to stop.”   “Then maybe you sho-”.   “I can’t leave and just let him get away with…whatever he’s done.” Jenny said, but then her shoulders slumped forward. Her arms were still covering her chest as she sat naked in the chair. “I don’t actually know how he plays a part.” She admitted. “But Hortensia says he does- and I know what you're thinking, but you haven’t seen her. She won’t even turn on the telly out of fear of seeing his ads. And Matilda- she was screaming when he walked past her. She feels things. I know it’s not proof that would hold up in court- but It’s enough for me.”   “Okay, then let me ask you this. What’s your hard line?” Jenny gave her a blank stare. “You said you called the NCA, you’ve put the ball in their court. You’ve done your due diligence. I wouldn’t keep poking the bear with the stick; nothing good will come of it.”   “But what if the councilman lets them all out? And what if they go on to hurt other children because I didn’t make the right phone call, or warn the right people?”   “You’ve done everything. If you want my honest opinion, I think you should take the kids and get the hell out of here. There’s nothing here for you. You have no job, the kids have no school. You’ll find better doctors in the city anyway.” Jennifer frowned and was silent for a moment.   “I suppose it would make visitation easier if I moved to Aylesbury, both for Hortensia to see her mom and for the baby…”   “Farther.”   “London?”   “Farther.” “Carol, I can’t just leave the country.”   “Farther.”   “You want me to move overseas? I-literally have no connections there.”   “Yes you do. And she’s coming over tomorrow.”   “Carol, no-”   “I’ll ask you again. What’s your hard line?” Jenny was silent as Carol washed her body, until finally she spoke up.   “Matilda.” she said quietly.   “Jen, they're already coming for her.”          

I consider myself fortunate insofar as I did quite well with behavioral and psychological techniques worked.  I know others who’ve tried every Jedi mind trick they could think of to no avail.   I wish I knew what the secret sauce was because then I would proudly announce it.  Instead I would say that I had a good results once I started to “accept” that I’m incontinent and my control will never again be normal.  That allowed me to give my poor tired achy bladder muscles all the time off they needed.