Baby Talk

Hi again! Apologies for my delay in response, and it's pretty great reading my commitment to a regular release schedule and then immediately failing to meet that mark. That's definitely a good way of looking at things! Sometimes I can get bogged down in perfectionism, but also sometimes it's better to just move on with a solid 95%. I'm happy to hear I've inspired, just as tons of other folks have inspired me! Thank you and best of luck with your endeavors! And also, please enjoy two more chapters!

Candy 

I didn't #2!! 

Thank you very much for reading, and I really appreciate the kind words! Apologies for the delay on this response! I've been a bit quiet on this site lately due to IRL things! As for specific timelines, unfortunately I'm no good for that in this story. It reaches multiple points where the whole point is that some amount of time goes by, so it could be in the realm of a couple/few weeks to maybe a month or so. This is assuming I did not seemingly indicate a much larger jump than that... Thank you very much! 48 - Being Brave “So…” Amy slowly set down her needle and thread, and Emily on her toes as she reached for a bin tried to look extra busy right then. “You…dripping wet, butt naked, started running all over the apartment?” “Y-you…you had to be there…” Emily grunted especially hard just to hide the stutters. “Be careful, by the way; I wasn’t kidding when Joyce said I had to stick to some rules,” Amy said again with her watchful eyes still on Emily. “I won’t climb on anything, I promise,” Emily assured right back and dropped back to the flats of her feet. “And yeah, Joyce went running after me, but I was faster,” it felt really good to say that. Finally getting a one-up on Joyce! Well, sort of. Joyce had longer legs and bigger strides, but Emily used the house like a playground. Just because mama bear could sprint didn’t mean she could swing from vines… “But then I slipped and hurt my nose…” Emily reminisced a lot less fondly. “...There’s a saying, you know,” Amy raised her eyebrow, maybe thinking twice about the things she was letting her assistant handle, “about playing silly games and getting silly prizes?” “And now I’m not allowed out of the bathroom until I’m completely dry…” she dodged the criticism and finished her grand tale. “But get this: Joyce doesn’t have to be dry! She can walk out whenever she wants!” “Sounds like you’d run?” “Not anymore! I don’t wanna break my nose!” “You won’t if you just dry off in the bathroom. And maybe run in the house a little less…” Still choosing either to ignore or just not see the problem, Emily sighed. “Joyce is such a hypocrite at times…” “You know, I said I’d listen and all, and I will, but I’m almost starting to think that Joyce is as overbearing as she is for good reason…” And as Ashes strolled by, the seamstress brushed her hand across his back. “No, she’s not!” Emily claimed, and Amy hung a hand on her face just to hide her oncoming smirk. “Like, some rules make sense, but other ones are just ridiculous! Like…! Oh! Yeah! So whenever she wants, she just decides what time we’re going to bed!” “Both of you?” Amy would have guessed Emily being sent ahead first… “Yes! And whenever I try to argue or debate it, she always somehow throws it back at me and uses that as a reason just to build up her point.” Joyce was rubber and Emily was glue… “Well, she’s…” Amy sighed as she smiled, never quite realizing just what kind of reasoning she’d be getting herself into, “...crafty?” “Yes!” Emily nearly jumped as she worked. “Don’t you see what I mean? It’s so unfair! She makes up all the rules whenever she wants, and I just have to listen! I think it’s only fair if I get to make some rules too…” In all fairness, Emily did make rules, only when they were having adult discussions, though. Given that this was somewhere…in-between, her credibility and authority were beneath the threshold. “I think if you’re wanting rules just for the sake of having them, that kinda defeats the purpose, Em,” Amy chuckled. “Oh, can you hand me that swatch right there?” Like a gopher, Emily spotted the destination with her eyes, grabbing a small stack of squares off a nearby table and handing it over to her boss. “Is this what you needed me to try on?” Emily couldn’t help but look on from the side. It did look like a pretty dress… “Mhm,” Amy answered quietly, leaning out and in from her chair, holding the sample under a light and away from it across the outfit. “Just playing with some options right now, though. But– oh, where were we? Right. How does the saying go? Made your bed, so sleep in it?” “Joyce doesn’t let me make the bed,” and Emily certainly rolled her eyes at that. “W-well, sometimes she does. When it’s my chore for the day...” “Oh that’s good; keeping busy around the house?” Amy played sort of dumb. She knew about the chores since that one time she spoke with Joyce. Though, she wasn’t looking to divulge any details about that. She only made clothes, but surely that still fell under client confidentiality? “Yeah, but–” she paused for the sound of the sewing machine. “It’s okay, I can still hear you!” Amy encouraged. “But it’s just little stuff. Nothing major. And it’s weekdays only. Otherwise Joyce wants to do it.” “Gosh, the battery that woman must have…” Amy shook her head hopelessly. “Guess we’re all built pretty differently.” “Mm…” Emily nodded, going quiet and contemplative. Her work for the day has mainly just been waking up, eating breakfast, doing a chore, browsing the computer a little, and waiting for Joyce. It wasn’t as boring as before, now with just a tiny bit more structure, but it was far from filling up her entire day. Searching for work was harder now, too. She was as earnest as she started, truly, but now due to certain parental locks it was just another hurdle trying to get in… If she wanted to use the computer when Joyce wasn’t home, somehow she could “request” for permission, whatever that meant. It probably sent something to Joyce’s phone, but she didn’t like bothering Joyce during work, as much as she loved to bother her now in general. “Enough about Joyce, though; let’s go back to us,” and she killed the machine and held up her handicraft. “Think you can try something on for me?” “Yeah, of course,” and Emily was about to take it, but Amy playfully tugged it back. “Sorry, this one has a zipper on the back. Might be easier if we do it as a team,” Amy smiled, and Emily nodded. It was one of those once in a blue moon situations where she could actually go down to just her underwear without totally blushing. “Want some help stripping?” “No thanks, I’m uh, fine. So should I go…?” Emily looked around, like there was a dedicated changing room. “Oh, no, it’s fine to do it right here,” Amy nonchalantly waved. “Let me go lock the front door though, actually…” Maybe it was weird to admit, and maybe it was definitely weird to be feeling, but Emily couldn’t help but have a sense of unease as she lifted her shirt. Almost like…she was doing something wrong? Only because Amy was here. Another body, another person that was watching her or at least being near her while she got naked. Guilt? Was that what she was feeling? The intent was honest and pure, but that wasn’t enough to affect the strangeness. If Joyce saw me like this…would she get jealous? Infidelity? Was it cheating if her seamstress saw her undressing? “Emily? Everything okay?” “H-huh?” Emily perked up with her rolled shirt halfway down and off her arms, bringing out the red spots on her cheeks. “Y-yeah, I…nevermind.” Amy made it clear she was fine with the personal stuff, but Emily still wasn’t cool sharing her stupid. Stupid Joyce and her stupid jealousy… Apparently other things were starting to rub off on the girl. “By the way, uhm…Amy, do you have any family, or anything?” “Hmm?” Amy’s interest had been piqued. “What makes you ask that?” “Just…cause you’re a person that makes clothes, and all…” and with still a small bit of trained and learned hesitation, Emily undid the button on her jeans. “I was wondering if you make stuff for your family, or anything.” “Ugh, believe me, Emily,” Amy sounded with playful disgust, “the less my family knows about what I do, the better.” “They don’t know?” “They do…but I don’t go around reminding anyone, you know? Here– let me take those, I’ll fold them…” She moved Emily’s clothes in a neat pile to the couch. “Great family, and I love them, but with so many of them, just doing one favor for every person would ab-so-lutely destroy my schedule!” “Do they ask for big stuff?” She scoffed and Emily nearly flinched. Apparently they’d hit a passionate tangent. “Big, small, medium; all of it! And difficult stuff, mind you! I’ve had cousins before that want me to essentially build a whole new outfit over an existing one! I couldn’t even save the fabric!” Emily listened as she stepped into the dress on the floor. “Put it like this:” Amy started, but stopped so she could pan them over to a mirror, “when a mechanic finishes up work for the day, the last thing they wanna do when they go home is work on another car. Make sense?” “Yeah it does… What…what you do for me and Joyce…that’s not off-work stuff, is it?” “Nope, that is very much my work,” Amy haughtily chuckled as she lifted the outfit up Emily’s legs. “You, my munchkin, have given me a whole new branch of things to play with, and I cannot be excited enough for it! Do me a favor: if Joyce ever thinks about dropping me, try and warn her discreetly that I’m gonna throw a tantrum, ‘kay?” “Uhm…yeah…I will…” Emily hesitantly agreed, and while she felt conflicted about a line being crossed, she didn’t notice Amy’s smile. “Joking! Just jokes,” she laughed, and Emily swallowed another bitter gullibility pill. “But no, Joyce and I kinda have a special deal going because I’m kinda into it, too. She’s got me on retainer, so I get paid to play around with ideas and Joyce can request something specific if she wants.” “Has she done that before?” More backdoor dealings without Emily knowing? Or if Amy told her, was it not that secret after all? “What, requested something?” Emily nodded. Some of Amy’s gears were turning, as the question was processed the dress fitting had stopped. But she spoke and said, “Uh…can’t say,” then zipping her lip and tossing the key. “Confidentiality, and all.” “Can you really not say anything about Joyce at all?” Emily finally started to give the woman a sideways look in the mirror. “I’m telling you a lot…” Seriously, shouldn’t they be trading secrets here? “I won’t tattle about your detective work, but I’m not gonna get in the crossfire,” Amy held up her hands, ready for arrest. “Intentionally, at least,” then she went back to tugging the dress in places. “Does it feel comfy?” “Uhm…kind of, I guess?” Emily tried not to turn, but she did try to get a fettling of the fabric. “It’s a little loose though…” “That’s fine. Like I said, you’re similar to another client, but not exact. They’re a bit bigger than you.” And Emily stood there and watched herself a bit longer while Amy muttered and took notes. “You’re kinda different when you’re serious…” Emily thought out loud. “Yeah?” Amy giggled, “am I?” “I– All I mean is that when you’re taking notes and stuff…” “I gotta be if I’m gonna make nice things…” she murmured as from a lower pedestal step she lifted a piece of the dress’ hem. “You don’t even wanna know how much research I’ve done for you, kiddo.” “You do research too?” “The ideas don’t come completely from trees!” Amy laughed, and Emily felt embarrassed for not realizing the obvious. “That’s usually how I start new projects. Hear from the client what they want, gather and study some references, sketch it out, then make it! Sometimes though, I might just strike lightning and go straight to the sketching part.” “W-well…” Emily went meek as her hands fumbled with themselves. “What…stuff did you research for me?” Was Amy getting into the kink side of things, too? Did she have to dive in the deep end like that because of her and Joyce? For what Emily knew her to do, pushing this woman off the deep end like that didn’t seem fair for what normal stuff she is likely used to… “Oh, kid’s fashion!” Amy said it simply and cheerily, and Emily almost fell over. “What?” she held her model up by the shoulder, “not what you expected?” “Not really…” Emily mumbled, not keen to mention her thoughts. “You look at kid’s fashion?” “Ya-huh. Lots of cute ideas to take from there. Though, that kinda brings a new challenge to it, which is I’ve never had to quite ‘age’ up my references before…” “What’s aging up…?” Could Emily be blamed? After all, Joyce only ever taught her how to age down. “Just taking something and considering how it might change for someone older,” Amy explained. “For example, you’re not gonna find a toddler or kid with adult breasts or curves. Depending on what we’re going for, those are just a couple things to consider. And also, that day that I came over to your house to see the clothes; were you wearing a different diaper?” “H-huh?” “Do you guys use different ones, or just the same kind?” “I-I think we use the same kind,” Emily answered, though nervously just a few steps behind the casual introduction of her diapers. “I don’t know where Joyce gets them, though…” Somehow through Sheila, apparently. “Mm, well, I wish Joyce would have told me so I could account for it…” Amy said with the slightest bit of annoyance. “Does it really affect that much?” Who was Emily, the not-seamstress, to ask? “No, it doesn’t,” Amy admitted with a defeated sigh, “but if you like perfection you gotta scrutinize the details.” Things had been moving so fast that Emily didn’t register what Amy said until she had time to digest. “W-wait,” she turned her head to Amy, “you noticed a difference?” “Had a hunch,” Amy answered like it was asking for the weather, “your bum looked a little bit more puffier! Which is cute, by the way!” and Amy, the master of damage control, made a loop with her fingers and signaled the universal “OK” sign. Though her attentiveness opened the door for more questions, but ones that Emily was far too embarrassed to ask. What, “how did you know that my diaper just wasn’t wet?” What a great argument that would make; built all on the stage of self-sacrifice. “If I know what the bare minimum is like, I can consider the stretchiness for stuff that wraps around it,” Amy explained. “Too much and it either gets too loose, or suddenly your diaper isn’t getting the support that it needs.” Amy stayed calm and casual, even when indicating the obvious and terribly embarrassing. Diapers only needed support if they were hanging on to extra baggage. Either way, she sounded just like Joyce, but without all the tension, but the same exact lack of reservation. So instead of calling a bluff or doubting her claims, it was far more worth Emily’s pride and dignity if she just let Amy be right. “That’s another thing I kinda had to study, by the way,” Amy included, looking like the brunt of the burden was Emily’s fault. “Figuring out diapers isn’t easy, you know?” It was like layer after layer of discovery for the poor girl that just had to stand there and model a piece of clothing. While it was interesting to listen to Amy talk, she was completely unprepared to introduce or contribute anything to it. Diaper studies? What, was she supposed to talk about how comfy hers felt, or snug and secure they could be? Maybe they were on the same subject, but the lenses were totally different. “L-like what?” “Again, it’s all tiny stuff, but it’s worthwhile information. Just knowing the difference between plastics and cloth. Disposable and cloth. Oh– those are two huge differences, by the way! Maybe I was kinda going down the rabbit hole, but it also helps with my sketches if I know one is kind of non-negotiable for the model. Otherwise she gets punished,” Amy grinned, and Emily blushed. “If it’s like a onesie or sleeper you’re in, I need to consider the types of fabrics that I’m using if I know what kind of underwear you’ve usually got. Helps avoid extra wear on friction between materials. Lets me know if I can keep certain spots fluffy and soft” “Oh…well…uhm…you thought of a lot…” Emily was rightfully at a total loss for words, and Amy was at least self-aware to a point. “Sorry! Did I overwhelm you? I have a little file built on you, is all I mean. You and Joyce are pointing me in new places, but as a seamstress I’m better for it!” “Glad we can help…” “Glad I’ve been blessed with this work! Mmm…okay! Ready to get that dress off?” Emily blinked, and apparently that’s how long it had taken. “That’s it?” “That’s it!” Amy nodded. “Easy though, right?” “It was easy, yeah…” the girl agreed, but it didn’t change that an entire day was reserved for what, just ten minutes of her time? On some level it felt very much like a “Joyce’s assigned one chore of the day,” but where they differed was at least Amy supplemented with other things… “So…now what?” Emily asked while she let Amy undress her. Unlike where she was just obedient for Joyce, this was Emily fearing that she might ruin or tear an unfinished product. Maybe that’s why Amy also offered her help at the beginning… “Now, we take this off, you can put your normal clothes back on, and…mm, well, I guess that is kinda it then, huh?” “Are you gonna have me come back again?” Emily asked, wondering if her need had been exhausted entirely. “Oh yeah!” Amy nodded assuringly. “I’m gonna be making some tweaks to this over the next little bit and have you try it on again. Sorry in advance if that sounds boring!” “No, it’s not,” after all, chatting with Amy for the most part was pretty fun, “but I’m just a little surprised, is all.” Not that anything they discussed over the phone could’ve been false advertising, but maybe Emily’s expectations got ahead of themselves. “I know, I know,” Amy apologized, “it’s not a whole lot… I’ll see what I can do about giving you some more stuff to do for next time!” Amy said it confidently, and Emily nodded as she started to re-dress herself. Emily had the chance to look at the time, finding the new predicament that came with a light workload. “So…that’s it then?” Emily stood, taking that as her cue to leave. After all, the work was done and the day was over. “Oh, Emily, that doesn’t mean you have to leave!” Amy exclaimed, finally catching on. “Stay and be comfy! We can still hang out while I work? I have some stuff I can do down here anyway. Or, if you get bored of me you’re more than welcome to the TV upstairs.” “Yeah, but…I don’t wanna interrupt anything… Should we write down the time, or something? I think I got here at around nine, so…” and while she was nearly ready to resort to her fingers, Amy had a hand on her shoulder and forced her to sit. “Don’t worry about the hours; I have that all taken care of,” Amy dismissed. “And no, you are not imposing! Don’t be afraid to use your phone or anything, by the way. Sorry though; this doesn’t quite fill up your day like work normally should…” “Really, it’s fine,” Emily insisted, and in fact, “Besides, if I wasn’t here, I’d kinda be at home by myself…” she watched her leg for a minute, wondering if what she would say was all that workplace appropriate, “I like getting to talk with you, so…I don’t mind.” Her words must have fired like bullets out of a gun. Amy held a hand to her chest, delightfully taken aback by such a small but meaningful gesture. “Well I like getting to talk with you, you know!” Amy laughed. “Besides, you were nice enough to invite me over to your house, so obviously I should make the same gesture, shouldn’t I?” “Well…that only sort of happened because I was too scared to come over here…dressed like that.” “Everyone’s got their comfy space, right?” Amy shrugged, dusting off worry and wonder every time Emily could muster some kind of doubt. “So you’re gonna stay, right? Otherwise it’s between you and the cops once Joyce can’t find you here to pick you up,” she taunted with a grin, and Emily couldn’t help but reciprocate. “Okay, fine, I’ll stay.” “Perfect.” Amy smiled, and all was well again. For only a little bit, however. A matter of seconds, really. “...Hey, actually…Emily?” It felt like the first meaningful pause she’d heard from Amy ever. Emily’s hand stopped petting Ashes and she looked up almost nervously. “Y…yeah?” “First: you can refuse, okay?” she held out a halting hand. “If this sounds like too much, just let me know. It’s just…well…I may have one other thing that I might need you to try on…” “For a client?” Emily was already getting up from her seat. Another chance to model was another chance to work. Contribution felt good, after all. “Yes, for a client,” Amy chuckled, “but specifically for you.” “For me?” The groundwork was already laid that made it clear Amy was producing for her, but that wasn’t to say she ever expected an opportunity to see it. Especially without… “But…I thought I couldn’t see anything Joyce was having you make?” Eternal Christmas presents that wouldn’t be under the tree until Joyce said so. It’d be enough to make all the good boys and girls unionize. Amy was already flipping through pages on her table and tidying up her fabrics, then finally folding the dress. “How about I go get it, then I can explain.” “O…kay…” and Emily watched Amy hurry upstairs. The woman was still forward and cheery, but there was an air of reservation, only now coming from the other end. And as Emily heard her feet coming down the stairs, Amy was already jumping straight into explanation. “So normally– no, I can’t show you stuff; both because that’s what Joyce wants, and I don’t like sharing unless it’s fully finished, but this is something very close…” The white box Amy was holding was nondescript and hardly an indication of anything, but Emily could tell it wasn’t normal attire that was inside. After all, Joyce didn’t pay to make Emily look mature. “And, well, I wanna be extra sure this is just right.” “Is it another…onesie?” Emily, feeling daring and brave, asked the question that just might dispel the suspense. “No.” Amy said. Apparently the suspense was not dead yet. “It’s a diaper,” she continued. Apparently it was dead now. “A diaper?” Emily paused, but Amy didn’t, who took the top half of the box and lifted. Like a royal treasure atop a fur-lined pillow, Emily waited to see a diaper with a nervous beat in her chest, but was quite surprised and confused by what she saw. It definitely did look like underwear, but not the disposable kind. The colors were loud and proud. Purple, yellow, red; clashing foes that somehow perfectly encapsulated the chaos that a kid could be. Panties didn’t feel accurate, but nothing else sounded better in her head. High-cut, all-encompassing ones. Buttons were studded along the sides, and at the waist and legs there were elasticized trims of thin and light material. Most importantly, though– the most confusing part: it looked…thin. While Emily would never elect herself as the authority on diapers, surely wearing them was enough to allow her an opinion on the matter. And while she looked down at the garment confusedly, Amy with bated breath was patiently holding her hands together. “This is a…” Emily looked up at the woman, “...diaper?” “Yes!” Amy enthusiastically nodded, and Emily slowly looked down at it again. Emily went quiet, slowly reaching out her hand, waiting for Amy’s command to stop that never came. Soon she was touching the “diaper,” rubbing the material between her fingers. Though, she could hear the friction, like tiny thin fibers were rolling and sliding against each other. Sort of like… “It kinda sounds like a bathing suit,” Emily commented, and the proprietress merely laughed. “That’s the inner layer; I added some waterproofing to it! Because…well…” They each shared an uncomfortable look, “just in case! But the inside is soft! Feel it!” The idea of it being a diaper was still hardly sold on the girl. Was it an invention? Where was the padding that got the job done? That made the diaper a…a diaper! She hooked her finger around the leg band, feeling the inside. “It does feel pretty soft…” Emily agreed, but sounded like she didn’t know much else to say or how to expand on it. No way other than the kind of skepticism she felt bad giving. “Amy, I really like how it looks, but I…I don’t think this’d really do what…what a diaper is supposed to…” Where was Joyce to back her up on this? “Well, it is a prototype,” Amy slowly admitted, like a magician that begrudgingly revealed their own trick, “But I do stand by it! It’s my first time with some real functionality in clothing. Does something seem wrong with it? It works like a normal diaper, see?” Emily watched Amy reach out, making it a show of the button areas. Each side erupted in loud metal pops from where the buttons unsnapped, going off and off until none remained connected. Only then did Amy slowly but deliberately show that the buttoned fabrics unfolded and came apart, like wings on a disposable diaper. “See? There’s snaps that let you take it on and off!” Amy emphasized, flipping and flopping the wing with her hand multiple times. “Cool, right?” “Yeah, but…mm…” Emily went quiet again. “What? What is it?” Amy verbally pushed and shoved. “You’re beating around the bush, silly. You won’t hurt my feelings!” “You promise…?” “Yes, I promise,” Amy held up her hand  “So? Break the news! What’s so bad?” “It’s…it’s kind of thin… Like…a lot of thin,” Emily broke the news, and as welcomed as it was it didn’t change her guilt. “Thin?” Amy asked to confirm, and Emily nodded again. Half the reason she didn’t want to say it was in fear of having to get specific, and they were already toeing a dangerous line. It’s thin! So what if it’s thin? If it’s thin it won’t…absorb! Absorb? What do you mean? When I pee myself! Or something like that. The at-home video in her head was traumatic enough. But Amy was still quiet, like she was waiting for something else, and that only made the girl more nervous. Did she want more explanation? Was she insulted? “Well…” Amy sounded like she was trying to be careful. Oh no, did I hurt her feelings? Should I apologize? “That’s because we didn’t add the padding, yet?” “O–” Emily stammered. “O-oh! Oh! That’s why?” she went for an embarrassed laugh. “S-sorry! I just thought since you said it was done and all…” Stupid! Stupid! “So…wait, how does that work then?” Amy tilted her head. “How does what work? The padding?” “Well…yeah?” Was there some kind of misunderstanding? “Don’t…doesn’t that stuff go in the diaper before you finish making it…?” Maybe she needed to ask Joyce about that when she saw her. Again, she was a diaper wearer and nothing more. “How are you supposed to get it in now?” For all she could tell, it looked pretty sealed up. “Emily?” ever so sweetly, Amy asked. “Mhm?” “Honey…do you know how cloth diapers work?” Emily blinked. “Sorry?”A cloth what? Amy’s eyes widened and Emily’s oncoming embarrassment grew just a little bit bigger. “Awh! O-oh my gosh, you don’t know? Ah!” and in a hasty rush Amy lifted the box’s interior filling, revealing varied sizes and thickness of thick cloth squares and strips. “See these?” “Y-yeah…” “These are the padding!” Amy explained with a whole new wave of enthusiasm, all because she had a sadly ignorant girl who was a product of the modern age. “Look– pick up the diaper, see?” In Emily’s hands she looked at the interior of the front face of the diaper, and Amy’s hand stuck out at a place where Emily could now see a seam and where the cream-colored fabric was bundled up. She watched the woman’s fingers go near the anomalous spot, close and closer, until… Her fingers! They disappeared! Gone! Into the void! Gone and forever– then her fingers came back out. “See this? This is where you slip in the diaper inserts! Let’s put one in now, actually,” and Amy with Emily as her vise grip parted the inner mouth of the diaper, slipping the long thick strip of material in. “Everything is safe to get wet,” Amy explained, “and all you have to do is just wash and dry it! Cool, right? It’s an infinite diaper that can look exactly the way you want it to!” And in admitted amazement, Amy’s efforts helped Emily cross the mental bridge that brought her from skepticism to the finished product the seamstress was trying to communicate. Instantly she felt the still soft and malleable, but sturdy pad fill out the diaper, going from thin and baggy to thick and taut. Suddenly she was holding a diaper, except…washable? “See what I mean now?” Amy couldn’t hide her teeth, sounding more eager by the second. “Isn’t it so cool?!” “Y-yeah…” Emily nodded, ultimately in an embarrassed place all over again. After all, Amy said it was made for her. There were no secrets about whose diaper she was holding, and yet it did nothing, or maybe even caused Amy to be so cheery. Was she expecting the girl to cheer right alongside and be just as happy? She was, and she was grateful, but… Being excited about what she got to pee in… “Ah…!” Amy stepped away, making a dramatic sigh. “Maybe Joyce would’ve been better to show!” “W-wait, no!” Emily in a hurry spoke up. “I-It’s not that I don’t like it, it’s just that…that I’m…” A hand was on her wrist, setting the diaper down. “Relax, it’s fine,” Amy chuckled, back to her sincere self. “I know you can be a little nervous about this stuff at first. Sorry for teasing too much~!” she sang. “But I still wanted to show you. “So does Joyce know about this?” Emily asked in her direction, but her eyes couldn’t stop going elsewhere. Somewhere specific though. Directly down at the diaper…sitting unfolded and open… It was made for her. Would it fit? Of course it would…Amy made it. It was her diaper. Tailor made and thought of. A silly, stupid design; something reminiscent of the way Joyce got her into making a messy minefield of crayons in her coloring books. …Stylish… “But it’s a prototype…” Amy sorrowfully explained. “Close to being done, but it needs a couple more things…” Her statement was leading, like there was more to it, and just maybe, Emily was expected to pick up on it. “Like what? It…looks done to me?” “Well, it’s yours,” Amy seemed to chuckle to herself over that, “so I still need to put your signature on it.” “Signature?” “Yeah; a little something that shows I made it and it was made for you. I do it with everything I make. Anything from me that Joyce got has her own signature too. I don’t write an actual name, or anything. Remember that denim dress of yours? The front pocket with the paw print? That’s your signature!” Then the explanation clicked. The one reference was all she needed as a reminder to what Joyce explained way back when in the beginning. The day she got her big and bountiful birthday present. “Oh…I guess I never remembered seeing it on Joyce’s clothes, though…” Not her dresses, which is what she imagined Amy did most for her. “Well…” Amy averted her eyes, taking a playful finger to her chin. “Yours may not be as…discreet as what I do for everyone else.” “Discreet?” “Most of what I do is for formal or high-end events, so little personal touches like that are sort of a no-no. I keep that somewhere on the inside of the outfit. But with you, I don’t have to worry about that!” she laughed. “I can’t imagine you’d wanna wear your footie pajamas to a party, right?” “N-no…” Emily agreed with a blush. “Right, well, it started off as a small idea, but I really like how it turned out. The little pet paw I give all your stuff works great as part of the overall design. Think of it like…like your own fashion brand, yeah!” Amy sparked with glee, and Emily with far less context and passion to ride the highs smiled nonetheless. “Your own chique set. Mwah, fantastique~!” And finally her charades were infectious enough to make Emily laugh herself. “Long story short,” Amy chuckled a little bit more after finally settling down, “it’s what turns all your clothes into a branded set. Sorta for style and identity.” “Okay, I think I get it,” Emily nodded. “That’s…I…I mean…I know you’re being paid for this, Amy, but…thank you.” “Hm? Of course! I’m happy to do it, but yes, being paid certainly makes me happier,” she laughed again. “Right, but…I’m…I’m sorry for taking so long to show any of that to you.” “Huh?” Amy’s smile sank, “hon, what are you apologizing for?” “Ever since my birthday, Joyce told me how you made all those outfits for me… The onesies, dress, and pajamas… She said from the very beginning how much you wanted to see them…see me in them… And…only until it actually happened, I really didn’t wanna show anybody… I was nervous, scared, and embarrassed, and I still am…but none of that was being fair to you. So…I’m sorry.” “Emily…” Amy said in a warm voice, reaching out for the somber and withdrawn. Her hand landed on the girl’s shoulder. “You don’t think I was upset at all, do you?” And all the girl did was shrug. “Maybe? I mean, you have every right to be…” “Emily…yes, I really did want to see you all dressed up, because, well, that’s something new for me, and it’s obviously something new to you too. But even if I made it, the fact that Joyce paid for it is as far as any obligation or responsibility you or she has for me goes. Period. Don’t feel like you had to do anything for me, okay? Because while I might say things to Joyce, I don’t want you to think I was pressuring for anything to happen, okay? ” “Mhm…” Emily nodded. “Thank you… I’m sorry for saying all that; I guess I can overthink things a little…” “Believe me, I think you’re the only one who’s kind enough to be honest about it. I bet half the things that go on inside your girlfriend’s head would make me go cooky…!” In a dramatic fashion she stuck out her tongue, corkscrewing the side of her head with a finger, leading to Emily’s laugh. “You better watch what you say,” Emily giggled, “what happens if I tell Joyce?” “Then I tell her you climbed on something high without my permission,” Amy narrowed her eyes. “Do it and I promise you mutually assured destruction.” And the staring match lasted all of three seconds before both burst into laughter. “I’m glad I’ve got you in a good mood again! Because…” Amy’s hand went near the corner of the box again. “This needs something else other than a signature…” Emily waited without saying anything, but she made eye contact with Amy. “Emily, do you wanna try this on for me?” “Try it…on?” Emily said the words back at her, like she didn’t hear her right. “In private, of course!” Amy suddenly stammered. “I’m not gonna make you do that here. I don’t wanna embarrass you, but since we’ve already done a fashion show once before, I figured this might be fine? You’re more than welcome to use the bathroom upstairs, or I could go up and wait for–” “I-I can’t…” “Sorry? You can’t?” It wasn’t doubt in Amy’s voice, but self-surprise from something she somehow overlooked. Emily shook her head. “I…I guess I’d be willing, but…I’m…not allowed to…” Amy blinked once, then twice, then she remembered lunch. “O-oh! That’s right…! You’re not allowed… Joyce takes care of that, doesn’t she?” It wasn’t in such explicit terms, but Emily bashfully nodded nonetheless. Amy glanced down at the garment, having all the pieces but a single, tiny bit of technicality that sat in the way of her testing. “Sorry, Amy…” Emily looked genuinely apologetic. “I’d do it, but…I like to joke a lot about rules with Joyce, but I think this one really does matter to her.” It was the one thing that truly felt inalienable and unbreakable. She could imagine herself doing it intentionally haphazardly, or taking one off in just a moment of bratty fun, but while they would undoubtedly bring harsh consequences, she could see it all as part of the lifestyle. But deliberately putting one on without mistake or some ulterior, immature motive? That was…well, it was supposed to not be Emily’s job. Babies didn’t put on their own diapers. It was their last bastion to what made this all so real, and it was one of the most important pillars that defined Emily’s willful dependence. But that wasn’t to say this wasn’t a moment without good reason? It wasn’t actually wearing a diaper, right? It was just a fitting session? One she could do in private, but one that if Joyce ever found out about would certainly lead to questions. It wasn’t about the problems of trying to hide the lie, though, but the act of lying itself. No more secrets. Honesty. “Let…let me call her,” Emily decided, and Amy looked surprised. “Oh, Emily, you don’t have to do that. I appreciate it, really, but we can just do this later?” “No, it’s okay,” Emily answered, then nodded as if affirming herself. “Besides, the worst that can happen is she’ll say no?” “Yeah, but maybe we shouldn’t bother her while she’s at work…” That did make the girl pause, being the very thing she did not like doing either. But this was important. And the same reasoning applied; if Joyce couldn’t pick up, then that’s all there was to it. “I’m gonna try calling her,” Emily decided again, and with a sense of determination, she pulled out her phone.   “Uhm…can I ask you something?” Emily’s voice sounded hesitant over the phone. Joyce creased her brows while she walked, “Of course you can?” Was something wrong? “Can…” as much as she hyped herself up before calling, simulated training could never seem to match practical experience. “Can I wear a diaper?” There was a long pause over the phone. Silence, and Emily’s toes couldn’t stop rubbing against one another while she watched the battle from above. “Emily?” Joyce spoke, but she sounded conflicted… Confused? “Y-yeah?” “I’m headed to my office now… Just give me a second please, okay?” “Okay… Are you mad?” “No, I’m not.” But she sure was confused as all hell. What would Emily need to wear a diaper for, and why was she asking something like that when Joyce wasn’t there? “Sh-Sheila,” Joyce called for her assistant with the phone held against her shoulder, “I’m sorry, but I think I left one of my binders in the conference room? Would you mind going down to get it?” “Of course,” Sheila nodded, and she was off, and Joyce was alone as she stepped inside the room. “Emily, are you still there?” “Yeah.” “Sweetie, what did you ask again?” Maybe it was just the jam-packed schedule of the day getting to her. Joyce in her many moments of failure was finally learning to try and hear things out fully and completely. “Can…I wear a diaper?” Okay, maybe she hadn’t misheard… “Sweetie, I’m a little confused…are you at home right now?” Amy didn’t mention anything about her leaving. Did she miss a message? “No…I’m at Amy’s.” “And you want to wear a diaper…?” Was this Emily? “...Yeah.” “Emily, honey, is Amy with you?” She had to be. There couldn’t be any other reason for this, even if Joyce had no idea what it was. “Yeah, she is.” “Could you please put her on?” “Is this taking up your time?” Emily asked with a guilty voice now. “It’s okay– I don’t have to.” “No, no, I’m glad you called. Sorry…today’s been a tiny bit busy. Not because I brought you over to Amy’s,” good lie, Joyce, “I’ve just had some unexpected things drop on me at the last minute. But could you give Amy the phone, please?” “Mhm…” Emily agreed, then silently held it out for Amy. “Joyce? It’s Amy.” “Amy? Is everything okay?” “It’s fantastique, one might say! We’re doing fine! I’m sorry about calling like this; I suggested we shouldn’t, but Emily wanted to.” Joyce without much back and forth cut straight to it and asked, “Why does she want to wear a diaper?” “Look, Joyce, I know… It’s not the most exciting thing for a parent trying to potty train to hea–” “--Amy?” Joyce cut in, sounding awfully serious. “Did you say something?” As much of a friend as she was, absolutely no one or anything would stand between her and Emily. Emily didn’t ask to do things like that on her own. Not unless provoked, pressured, or…or something else? It felt far too uncharacteristic, and the fact that Joyce couldn’t be there to understand why was making her more upset by the second. “Joyce, everything is fine!” Amy tried to calm her. “No, so I showed Emily something from my workshop; something you haven’t seen either, nor asked for, so it’s fair game! But it’s different from what I usually do, so I wasn’t sure how it’d fit. I was willing to wait, but Emily wanted to try it on now, but she wanted to ask for your permission. I promise, I didn’t try to force her into this, and if you say ‘no,’ then I pack it up and we’ll wait.” “...So she asked? All by herself?” Emily did? Joyce’s Emily, the girl that throws tantrums over going to the dentist? “Yep, she did.” “...Could you please put Emily back on?” The phone was exchanged again. “Joyce?” It was Emily’s voice again. “Emily…you know we have a rule about this.” “I know…but, I figured it might be okay, since it’s just to try something on? It comes off! It’s like clothing!” Like clothing? Joyce shared a confused look with herself. A cloth diaper? “Emily…no, I don’t want you putting one on yourself. Even if it’s just for a fitting.” “I–...okay.” As much as Emily could try and debate, not only did she expect not to win, but also how much it would bother Joyce in trying to poke, prod, stretch and twist what she’d rather remain unspoken, untouched and understood. And yet, as much as Joyce didn’t like the initial feeling, with great reluctance… “...But yes,” she sighed, “you can wear one.” “I-I can…?” Emily stammered. “B-but, you said…” “Yes, you cannot put one on, Emily. That hasn’t changed,” Joyce frowned, dreading the next part. “But…if it’s an adult that I trust…then it’s different.” “J…Joyce?” “I’m going to need you to put Amy back on in a second, but I need to explain something else to you, Emily. Are you listening?” The girl suddenly felt fidgety from all her nerves about to go haywire. “Yes…” “Emily, when you wear a diaper, it’s not pretend, okay? I know you understand how much this means to me, and I know how much it means to you. That’s why I just don’t want to make any lighthearted habits out of this. It’d be different if I was there, but…this is something new for me, so I feel like I have to be strict about it.” “No…I understand,” after all, Joyce somehow not being part of the equation that involved diapers did sound unthinkable. “That’s why when you put Amy on, I’m going to tell her that the only way you can wear a diaper is if she puts you in one.” Her words came down like a bombshell. “W-what?” “A trusted adult, Emily,” Joyce reminded her. “If you want to wear one, then Amy has to put it on you.” “But…but she doesn’t…I…” “I’m not trying to be difficult, Emily, but you’re the last person I want putting you in diapers.  Leave that stuff to the grownups, okay?” And with the might of her wisdom, Emily felt the electric tingle as a part of her brain somehow melted. And if the blow hadn’t struck hard enough already, Joyce delivered a one-two-three right after. “And Emily, when you wear a diaper, it means the same rules apply, understood? Your diaper stays on. That means all day until I come to pick you up.” Obediently, she murmured into the phone, “Mhm… I…nevermind…I-I’ll just wait for you.” “Emily, could you please put Amy on?” “H-huh? B-but I can wait, Joyce. It’s fine, really.” But unfortunately, a door had been opened that would not be allowed to shut. Calmly, but firmly, Joyce insisted. “Emily? Baby? Put Amy on.” There was another long pause, and finally Emily’s head creaked up and looked at Amy, slowly, but eventually handing the phone over to her. Though, the girl was just about ready to jump ship and run. She didn’t know what kind of result she was expecting, but Amy as part of it was very much not that. “Joyce?” Round two for Amy. “Amy? Does Emily look upset right now?” “...Mm, yeah, I’d say so.” And suddenly the discomfort for both girlfriends was mutual. But at least in Joyce’s eyes it was deemed a necessary evil. “Well, it’s because of what I’m about to tell you. I said she can wear one,” and the fact she was in second place with being so open to Amy about diapers frankly threw Joyce for an even bigger loop. “But, Amy, and this is absolutely nothing I’m asking you to do. What I did tell Emily though is that she can wear one, but she’s still not allowed to do it herself.” If they were calling Joyce, she figured Amy knew as much about that rule. “The only way I’ll let her though is if you put her in one.” Boom, a personal bombshell for Joyce. “Sorry?” Amy spoke, but her mind was given a momentary lapse. “Amy, Emily’s not allowed to put on her diapers. I told her you’re the only one there allowed to do it for her right now. I think she’s upset because she’s getting exactly what she’d get if she were with me,” and the fact that Joyce wasn’t there made her heart ache, but teaching moments like this were also moments to teach herself. Begrudgingly. “But…me?” Amy repeated, at a loss, and a small glance over at Emily looking to be on the verge of tears made her even more taken aback. “Amy, if you’ve gotten her already talking about this kind of stuff around you, you’ve clearly broken down some of her barriers,” and that fact was certainly heartwarming for the busy mommy. “But this is something largely between me and Emily. It’s our relationship, and I don’t want to force you into that. That’s why this is completely at your discretion. Whatever it is that you made, I appreciate it and I can’t wait to see it, but I don’t want to ask you to become any more personally involved than that…” Yet she sighed again. “But…what I’m saying now…if…you wanted to…you may fill that role for Emily right now…” “I…wow…” Amy murmured. “Sorry, I…mm…I guess I wasn’t expecting things to go this way,” she chuckled. “I didn’t either, but since it did, I think it’s good, honestly… Since it’s you, Amy, I really would rather she’s comfortable around you like that. I don’t mean acting in any sort of way, but just…in the things that she wears. ” “No, no, I understand what you mean,” Amy nodded. “But so we’re clear…it’s up to me?” “Yes, and I’m about to explain that to Emily. But if she wears it, Amy, it has to stay on until I’m there. I…there’s a lot to this, but right now, with something like this, I want to be firm about it, for whatever might come of it.” “No…uhm…I understand…” Amy said again, though much more passively, like her mind was elsewhere. “And again, you can say no, but I want it to be your decision, not Emily’s. Since she brought it up, she decided that this was a possibility now.” And she knew how afraid it would make Emily, and how nervous she would feel, but it felt…necessary. Or possibly like a breakthrough? The next step? If it even came to that. Amy could always refuse, and that would be that. No harm no foul. Was this a misplay from Joyce? Knowing Emily at this point…it didn’t seem that way. “...Okay. Sure, yeah. Should I put Emily back on?” “Please.” Amy quietly walked back over to the couch where Emily was now huddled, petting Ashes in her lap, looking to be digesting some very difficult feelings at the moment. “Em?” Amy quietly spoke up, holding out the phone. “Last time, I think.” And slowly, Emily took the phone but still stayed curled up against the couch. “Joyce…?” “Emily? Baby?” There was a sniffle. “Mhm…” “Now above everything, you know how much I love you, right?” “Uh-huh…” Oh lord, her stomach was already turning. Emily hated sweet talks like this because she always knew it was just to make something bitter go down easier. “And you know that I’d only do something if I knew it was safe and in your best interest?” She felt like she was going to be sick. “Y-yeah…” “I just let Amy know what we talked about, but there’s one other thing, okay?” “...What?” “Emily, please, don’t be upset with me,”  Joyce was kind, but she knew the sound of a tone that wasn’t. Not that she held it against Emily. It was expected at this point, but sometimes bitter pills have to be swallowed. “Now, I trust Amy, and it sounds like you’ve started to trust her a whole lot more today, right?” “...Mhm…” “Well, that’s why I’m leaving the decision of diapering up to Amy. Whether you ask her to or not.” “Wh-what?” Emily stammered. Up to Amy alone?! “B-but–!” “But nothing,” Joyce said with finality. “Emily, if you’re not going to be honest with yourself, then I will. Amy’s in charge of that decision right now. If she decides to diaper you, then you listen, or that’s something we’ll deal with when I get out of work. Understood?” “...” Silence ensued, but what Joyce knew and Emily certainly knew was that as strict and solid as Joyce was being, there was a way to stop this. A single word that need only be spoken and the impossible would become possible again. Emily need only say it. “Do I need to hear anything else?” It was quiet on the other end for just a little longer. “...I…I understand.” “Good. And no matter what happens, I’ll be off of work in just a few more hours, okay?” “Mhm…” “And Emily?” “Yes…?” “Mommy loves you!” It made her feel fuzzy and warm, but she knew the moment they hung up that those warm feelings wouldn’t be there to protect her from her own reckless decisions that just landed her on a one-way street. “I love you too…” And while things had yet to stabilize, all was well again. Enough for Joyce to softly smile. “Okay, Mommy loves you too. Remember to listen to what Amy says. Bye.” And she hung up. And Emily stared at the empty phone in her hands. “She…hung up…” Emily said, suddenly feeling a vast chasm between the two now. Every sense of comfortability now was out the window and in the fire. With what knowledge that now plagued their minds, it scared Emily from even sharing the same room as Amy. But here they were, standing within a room’s width of each other. Amy was quiet for a long while, far more pensive than she’d ever been. She walked over to the desk, staring down at the box of gifts she had brought, suddenly seeing them in a whole new light. A peculiar one. She looked over at the couch, still with Emily and half her face hiding in the cushions while she self-soothed by petting Ashes. Then she looked down at the box again. “...Emily?” Amy softly called for her, right as she sat down upright beside her. Emily responded in a low, shaky and nervous mumble, “Mm…mhm…?” “Can you sit up for a sec? Look at me for a minute?” The one silver lining was that Ashes didn’t leave her lap while she adjusted; the last safe thing she had for comfort that didn’t judge her for her deepest and darkest secrets. Just a point of unconditional love.to get her through all her other worries. And Emily looked, but her lower lip quivered as her mouth imploded, seeing what she did not want to see. Resting in Amy’s lap. If only she had her cat. Too bad it was in Emily’s. Though her companion looked just as soft and just as comfy. A companion that offered a sense of security, and one that could support its owner in vastly different ways. “I…wasn’t expecting things to go like this…” Amy did her best to look at Emily, but even she was nervous. And yet, she couldn’t help but answer the distant call to be the lead and the authority. And Emily shuddered when she watched Amy’s hands tumble the object in her lap, spreading it and smoothing out the creases, just like Emily stroked Ashes’ back. The same comforting hand from before was suddenly back on Emily’s shoulder, making her jump at first, but immediately falling limp to the touch. “I know what Joyce said, but…well…” Is…is she not going to? “...If it really is alright with you, I…I think I do want to try putting this on you.” And it was a quiet moment of total vulnerability, the more Amy bundled the fabric, but finally, she held up the cloth diaper like a love letter, and tilted her head with an innocent smile. “Emily…do you think you could lay down for me?”   49 - The Places We’ll Go It was an uncomfortable silence. Very uncomfortable. It was warm, hot, confusing, and obscenely embarrassing. The world was spinning, there must have been an earthquake because her heart was thumping tremors. “H…” Emily breathed a sound, but her tongue felt numb. “H-h….huh?” Never. Not ever; not in a year, ten years, one hundred, one thousand, or in the lifetime of the universe did Emily even think she’d be faced with this. As dumb and stupid as she was to have skirted the line so carelessly, she didn’t actually expect the consequences. After all, what rule had she broken? But sitting on the same couch as her, just a few cushions down, Amy with her head tilted ever so slightly, creased her brows with the tiniest signs of a disappointed smile. Maybe if Emily wasn’t as frazzled as she was, she may have noticed even the slight blush from Amy herself. The bright yellow and purple diaper, made by Amy herself, was held against her chest by the edges where the tips of her curled fingers clutched it. “No…?” Amy smiled as sweetly as she was shy now, but somehow able to overcome all that and project an overwhelming sense of desire. “A-Amy…I…” The loose fabric on Emily’s legs started to collect and converge right where her hands were bunching whatever they could hold, over and over. A diaper. A diaper was offered to her. No, not even offered, but softly forced. She saw the diaper, the soft hands, well-kept nails and casual and comforting clothes. It almost made her reminiscent of whom she could only ever think of in a case like this, but looking any higher brought clashing headaches and confusion when it wasn’t who she expected it to be. It wasn’t her Joyce making demands. It wasn’t her mommy. She was across the city, doing other things as she saw fit, while simultaneously now ordering others to do her bidding. She couldn’t do that, but she did, and the predicament Emily found herself in now was a living example of that. This was a proxy, that’s all it was. Joyce multitasking from another body, doing what she did best and wanted most. But…the sensation was different. The feeling. “...Emily, I…” Amy’s lips retracted inwardly. “...I think I understand…a little.” Understand? Understand what? What could she understand? This…she didn’t do this! She…she made clothes! Not diapers…! The cloth diaper in her hands slowly dropped into her lap where she slowly smoothened it out over and over.  “When I make people clothes, I try to understand a lot of things about them. What they like, who they are, and how they might want to feel. I know it sounds a bit ridiculous, but I really do try and capture who they are as a person.” “But–” Emily bit her lip anxiously, “but you do this for Joyce? I…” she sighed worriedly, “I-I like it too…I do, Amy, I….I really do… b-but this is for Joyce?” After a quiet few seconds, Amy broke the silence. “Is it?” Her lowered eyes were saving her from the paralyzing feeling of direct contact, but her space was invaded again once Amy cocked her head out even further just to lower into it. It was uncomfortable and weird. Amy still felt the same and that was the most troubling. She felt just as gentle and just as accepting, only now different shocks were traveling down the same wire Emily let her plug into. Before she opened her mouth her chin was already shaking. All the progress they’d made felt completely undone, and why was that? Were they not just talking about all the things Emily did with Joyce? Maybe that was it. Talking. There wasn’t any physical evidence of the crimes or fingerprints to convict the culprits. Words were words and this was…real. Very real. Too real. In a silly, shortsighted way Emily went out on a limb without even coming close to fully realizing just what kind of chain reaction she could have set off. But again, miraculously, it could have been stopped. “When I came over your house just to see you all dressed up, I really can’t tell you how happy I was, but, well,” Amy stifled a giggle, then let out a small laugh. “I think I kinda made my point when I hugged you?” And Emily remembered it too. Yet another terrifying moment when she thought it was practically life or death whether she’d be eaten alive by an outside spectator. Christ, Amy volunteered herself as a participant at that. “Emily, I can’t get over how adorable I think you are. –And don’t think of this as a confession, or anything!” she worriedly blurted out. “Please don’t think of it like that,” she humorously moaned. “I don’t want Joyce hating me!” Amy’s artillery was strong, and her bunker-busting banter was unrivaled, but Emily’s self-conscious cage was just that much tougher. The seamstress mumbled, “It’s kind of embarrassing,” Ah, touché. Amy went on, “but…I can’t get that stuff out of my head now after visiting your place… I think a whole lot about my clients and how their clothes are going to fit and look, but with you guys, it’s just…different.” If only she knew how big the word ‘different’ seemed to be in Emily and Joyce’s lives. “B-but you…Joyce wants this stuff…” Emily muttered with the single card in her hand to play. Amy’s sudden and immediate retort was cruel, precisely because it felt like a knife in Emily’s back. “Is that why you wanted to wear those footie pajamas on your own?” It was far from unkind, and she delivered the blow gently but effectively. Nevertheless the wound made Emily wince. She certainly was stabbed in the back. Maybe only with a foam knife, though… “You’ve been so honest with me today, Emily, and I love getting to hear so much about you. I don’t want you to feel like you need to keep up your guard around me, because you don’t. I know what you two have. I get it. Not like get-get, but enough to know that I can tell when you’re lying, Emily.” Oof. The accusation was more electricity and Emily’s shoulders took the shock. “Yes, I do this for Joyce, but I do it for myself, and I do it for you. You don’t have to lie,” she stressed, and finally the flames were too strong for the girl to even look at the confrontation. “Hey, Emily…” Amy called and even reached out for her shoulder. “It’s…it’s not for me. It’s for Joyce.” “No? Is it?” Amy was a friend, and she was kind, which is why it made it so much harder to hear the sickening amount of doubt her few words were saturated in. “Should I stop, then? Do you want to pretend today never happened? That we didn’t talk and hang out? About all the silly ways Joyce can be a bully, and you can be a mischief-maker?” she chuckled, and Emily nearly felt herself be swept away by the urge to grin. “We are friends, aren’t we?” Amy asked, and finally she expressed the smallest amount of self-doubt, like there had been an unfortunate misunderstanding. As if her kindness had merely been borrowed to suit Emily for the afternoon, and nothing more. “W-we are!” Emily stressed, reaching out just enough to stop the wreck from derailing. Her chest rose and fell uncomfortably as the words stumbled and tumbled, but they came out nonetheless. “I-I…I want to be friends, Amy, a-and I don’t know why I’m so…s-so like this…! It’s…it’s j-just embarrassing, but I know you are nice and wanna help, but I…it’s just…!” “Wanna hug?” Amy asked with open arms, and Emily couldn’t have fallen for her faster. The moment her head came against Amy’s chest, she stared off to the side where all the fabrics, needles and threads were, and just beyond that the shelves of bins she sorted through. It wasn’t the same as Joyce, but it didn’t feel that far from just as comforting. It was just different. Her lips quivered and the sharp lines of the shelves and corners from the tables all started to go blurry like her camera was out of focus. The lens was just wet, though, because her whimpers went on to tears. “I-Ih’m sorry…!” Emily sniffled and whimpered, and Amy did the same thing that Joyce did and rubbed circles on her back. “Don’t be sorry,” Amy chuckled. “Also, how much practice do you have with Joyce? Do you know how good of a hugger you are?” “S-sorry…” Emily immediately softened her arms like wet noodles, but a sudden firm grip on her triceps forced them back to the tight way they were. “Did I say to stop?” Amy taunted, then laughed. “Nuh-uh, hug as much as you wanna.” So she did, and despite the embarrassment she felt there wasn’t a second attempt to go limp. Maybe she felt ashamed, but by this point she was too well-trained by Joyce to not crave physical affection. Physical affection simply made her feel too good now to not crave them. Not when she felt like this, no matter the circumstances. Her worst enemy or agent of destruction could somehow be her best friend with just a simple gesture. One that bled from Emily’s smaller and simpler self into her adult headspace. “You’re cute, Emily. So cute,” Amy hummed, holding her nearby the whole time. “Do I hug as good as Joyce does?” Maybe for many reasons Emily shrugged. It didn’t quite feel like a one-to-one comparison, and also she probably couldn’t forsake herself by criticizing either woman. After all, Amy was here to hear if she was criticized, and Joyce…well, somehow had omnipotent powers. “Good point. Probably shouldn’t make ya choose,” Amy pondered to herself, and finally the first smile shined on that dreary day. “Em, I like you, and I like Joyce. I met her first and I’ve known her for longer, but I feel like after today I’ve learned so much about you. I’m sure you can guess, but I don’t get all close and cushy like this with just anybody, you know?” “S-sorry…” “Don’t be sorry!” Amy admonished with a laugh. “I’m just saying that’s how it is. I like you two a lot, and I guess I like doing what I do for you two.” “But you don’t like this…” Emily whispered with her head half-submerged in a self-conscious muck, but one that even she didn’t believe herself. “Now you’re just trying to get me to spell it out,” Amy playfully scoffed. “I like this too,” she rolled her eyes. “I’m no therapist or anything, so I can’t pretend like I know why, but I just like it. I like cute things, Em, on top of liking you,” she emphasized, if there was any doubt that the appreciation was fleeting. “I want to see more of that side from you. The kind that can giggle and laugh, tell me all about the ways Joyce can be mean or silly, and let me make so many more things just to draw that side out even more. Hey, tell me, does Joyce make lunches like that for you all the time?” “Kinda…” Emily murmured, still leaning into Amy’s comforting embrace. “She…she wanted me to get a lunchbox…” Amy feigned a gasp. “And you didn’t get one?” “It’s…embarrassing…” “Yeah, maybe for like two seconds! You opened up to me, didn’t you? Awh…!” Amy laughed, and the woman’s comforting hug was just a little tighter. “You’re a real keeper when you’re bubbly, but feeling nervous over stuff like that is pretty good too,” she chuckled. “You don’t get it…” Emily mumbled next, and Amy sounded with disbelief. “Oooh no,” she refuted then shook her head. “I said that I didn’t understand some stuff, but I know exactly how you tick, missy. I can tell you like stuff like this. You like hugs, and you like feeling cute. I’m absolutely sure it makes you embarrassed, but I think you’re okay with that. If it makes you feel small and doted on, it’s your fit.” Amy’s lips were just starting to part, showing her toothy smile. “Th-that’s not…” Emily started to say, and even with enough bravery to finally look up at Amy, but she froze. She was met with a smug, eyebrow-raised grin from the same woman giving her the affection she very much indeed liked. And suddenly Emily was pulling away and retreating to her end of the couch. “Oooh? Now you don’t like them, huh?” Amy teased, and Emily’s mouth quivered. Finally Amy’s smirk softened into just a smile.  “I’m not gonna ask you to spell it out, but I have noticed something…?” And Emily, already with her tail caught by the trap, nervously waited to hear her captor’s words. “In all this time, after all these tears…talking to Joyce, me, and acting the way you have, you haven’t once asked me to stop?” She waited for an answer, but Emily’s tongue had been long since removed, and the tiny, but oh-so important detail that Amy was finally starting to see was that it was all by choice. Emily’s choice. It was the golden and unspoken rule, but Amy had gone and dragged it out in the open. It was the quietest she’d ever gone, and while Amy may have heard that she was making sound, the words not quite so much.  “Th-that’s becauz…I…” Emily was still close enough for Amy to pat her knee as she stood. Emily watched the woman in her primest element, looking over her workshop like a torture chamber filled with tools. She observed her arsenal and finally landed on something that was on a shelf too high for Emily to reach “This should work…!” Amy decided one-sidedly, looking down at a large bundle of purple fabric in her hands. She set the bundle on her desk and then grabbed the end of her coffee table, sliding it away from the couch and Emily, leaving a wide, open space right in front of her. Amy flung the fold of cloth outward, wafting it like a sheet until it was fully unfurled and laying wide, long, and flat like a big blanket. Almost like a… Emily was a second too slow to notice Amy grab what she left on the couch while on her knees, and then the music stopped all over again with a double pat on her thighs like a gentle beckon. “Emily? Down here, hon.” “Wh-...B-but Amy, I…” Emily stammered and started her retreat, tucking her feet under her legs, but Amy pounced, leaping and locking her hands on Emily’s ankles like they were shackled. “Nuh-uh! No you don’t!” she giggled, and Emily whined just barely. Her system was too shocked and the one thing she could hold on to was a cushion that popped right out of place and fell right with her. “A-Amy, please!” Emily cried from her new spot on the blanketed floor, but her puffy shield was swiped away next and set aside. And before Emily could try and escape her feet fell victim again once two anchors wrapped around them. Amy was the predator and Emily was prey, and just like textbook biology only one of them was enjoying it. “Emily,” Amy said it loud and clear in a way that cut through the mood entirely, like her core was being addressed. “Joyce gave me permission to do this, didn’t she?” Crap! No! Why is she saying that?! Her look of embarrassed discomfort went up a notch at the drop of the J word. Joyce said so, so Emily had to. “...D…” Amy started quietly, but her expression tightened just slightly some more. “Didn’t Mommy say so?” Then the girl’s heart skipped a beat, and then another. So many skips as all the caterpillars she had for lunch were blossoming into thousands of fluttery butterflies inside her stomach. The ants in her pants were marching for conquest and her face was on fire. The J word was always bad. All-powerful and seemingly invincible. And yet, there somehow existed a weapon of even greater mass destruction than that. Mommy. It was meant to be a secret that no one else knew about. Too powerful and too dangerous to be known by the masses, and even the upper echelons of the Joyce & Emily social circle. But the nuke came crashing down, obliterating everything indiscriminately. The imaginary gust of wind blew right over the bashful girl’s face, stripping layer after layer away by the immense heated shockwave coming from the unexpected tyrant right in front of her. It was the second in command. The incarnate of Joyce Summers herself. Everything went like a crumbling building. First her outward embarrassment was lost, then every hair on her body went erect. She felt paralyzed as the tingling sensation rocked her through in a matter of milliseconds. It was the shock from not realizing she was already dead. Emily was killed. Her entire self was wiped into smithereens, leaving nothing left but her rawest, most vulnerable self. “Sh-she…she told me to  behave…” Emily whimpered, barely even able to see straight now that her mind was melting mush trying to solidify under the blazing sun. Amy, of all people, had played a card in her deck that Emily didn’t even think was possible. The shock alone was enough to knock her over, had she not already been on her bottom. The mommy card. She was submissive before, but a dial was turned, a switch was flipped and a button was pressed. It didn’t go unnoticed by Amy, who looked taken aback for just a split-second, but no more than that. Emily wasn’t the only one swept into the momentum as the seamstress herself slipped into whatever she was feeling at a frightening speed. “Just…just think of it as trying on some more clothes for me, okay?” Amy smiled, now with the high ground and looking down at her little model. What kind of magic does Joyce work on her…? Amy waited for a moment, expecting Emily to undress for her. “Oh– right,” Amy stared through her with a slightly dumbfounded look. “I guess that part’s my job too, huh?” “I-I…I can help…” Another whisper from the quiet and conquered, laying back while the mood and circumstances assaulted her in ways that felt unimaginable. With Joyce there was always the unexpected, and by now Emily was prepared for that. Amy wasn’t though. She was an outsider, at least she was supposed to be. But henceforth she would certainly be “in” now., and to somehow be surprised by that was ridiculous. After all, it was Emily’s own fault. “Mmm, keep those hands where I can see them, missy,” Amy barked in a chipper voice, having the girl assume a surrendered pose. “Just do what you normally do, kay?” What she normally did. What, chit-chat with Joyce? Try and anticipate a wet raspberry or kiss on the cheek or forehead? For just a tiny moment Emily abandoned all sense of reason, truly wondering if Amy really did somehow have Mommy’s entire playbook. The feeling of another person’s nails gently digging against her sides made her shiver, and the talons sunk around and through the waistband of her panties, clutching her pants right with it. “And…down-down-down-down-down!” Amy continued the game, repeating jovially with each and every tug she made, bunching it up more and more, leaving more and more of Emily and her privates to see. Something only Joyce would regularly see. “Wanna keep your socks on? Actually–” Amy hung her head out, holding up her finger like she was testing the wind. “Nevermind. Don’t want cold feet.” And just when Emily’s feet were free and she was able to move, her knees slowly started to rise as she hoped to protect whatever she could. “Did somebody put rubber bands in these legs?” Amy laughed lightly, pulling them right back out, however. “Em, hon, it’s my job to work with clothes, so it’s nothing new seeing somebody naked?” she said nonchalantly, all the while making eye contact, catching Emily’s full lower naked half in view. Pop! Pop! Pop! Every snap that came undone was like a ringing gunshot. She flinched with each sound, knowing that the inevitable was closing in at a terrifying pace. “Then we go up…!” Amy soothed as Emily’s legs were suddenly mounted on the woman’s shoulder, taking Emily to the same extremes that Joyce always did. Wasn’t that difficult because she was…bigger than a normal baby? “Now I can see how Joyce might do it,” she chuckled, “you’re as light as a feather!” Emily was back to turning her head, watching the underside of the couch as her poor defense mechanism. After all, if she couldn’t see it, surely she wouldn’t believe it. Maybe from this vantage point she could see anything she may have missed… Oh, look, a few small tufts of thread… “And one-two-three!” Amy cheered as she lifted just a slight bit higher and Emily’s bum left the ground. She braced for the hard landing, but without seeing it happen, miraculously the soft fabric beneath her had somehow become even softer. “Okay…moment of truth!” Amy announced excitedly, making that only one of them, and right after Emily’s heels touched the floor they were nudged apart. Not a moment later and a very familiar yet presently unwelcome sensation hit her. Physically and mentally so. A soft and secure bulk grew between her legs, covering her crotch and resting just at the bottom of her stomach. It felt so familiar, like it was something she went through just this morning after waking up. Maybe because that was exactly the case, only slightly different. Her difference was the bulk was a different kind of soft, as if she was misappropriating a shirt or sweater. “The measurements should be fine, but I’m a little nervous…!” Amy grinned as that same softness Emily felt between her legs was beginning to go the same way about her hips. As it all joined into one, the snugness and comforting sense of security came forward, regardless of how nerve-wracking it really all was. With each pop into her padded prison she became one button more trapped in her diaper. Diapered not by Mommy, but by a friend, and not even in a familiar disposable, at that. She nearly kicked her foot out like a knee-jerk reaction when she found that the fitting wasn’t over. Amy’s finger slipped between her thigh and elastic gathering around her diaper. She traced the holes and finally clasped her hands. “Oh my gosh…!” The woman sounded ready to squeal, but her joy was already at an impressive height. “I think it fits! It looks so good! Wait-wait! Emily? Can you stand? Please?” She reached out her hands and reluctantly Emily offered up hers to let them be had. Because Mommy said so. Mommy said to behave for all of this. But the gravity of what’d been done was different depending on the perspective. Something like this was the kind of solid and heavy boulder that’d sit in her mind for the whole day, if only that, leaving her to chip away at it little by little just to decompress. Yet Amy despite being the agent of Emily’s newfound embarrassment was still speaking and moving like greased lightning. Like nothing was different. But how could everything not be? Every motion the blushing girl made was more fuel for Amy to hold her hands to her cheeks, fawning, gushing, oo-ing and ah-ing all over. “Awh…! Yes! Yes! This is just how I pictured it!” Was she really in a diaper? Emily didn’t have the strength nor the will to look. With a heave-ho she was pulled up to a sitting position, then finally stood. It didn’t feel exactly like the diapers she wore, but the bulk factor was more or less the same. Softer, maybe, but just as oppressive and in the way. When it bunched between her legs there wasn’t the audible crinkle, save for a muffled one. “Oh– honey, come on, let’s go over to the mirror, okay?” Amy took a hold around Emily’s farthest shoulder and steered her to the one place she absolutely did not want to go. “W-wait– please…!” Emily shook her head, finally staring down their destination with the fear of God in her. She could feel what she was wearing, but again, seeing was believing, and she did not want to believe one bit. Not that in any way could Emily end up the way she did when she was only with Joyce. Diapers just didn’t happen unless it was with Joyce, so this couldn’t be real, but Amy was about to give her irrefutable evidence. So with a stroke of brilliance, Emily employed the strongest tactic she had. Amy had Joyce, Mommy, but Emily had something maybe just as great. Like flicking a switch, the world around her went black. “Okay…let’s stand right here…! Ah!” Amy squealed, “perfect! Emily! Look at how– huh?” She was there, but she wasn’t. Gone. Disappeared. Everything. She could hear her surroundings but not perceive them. Seeing is believing, and she could not see, therefore she could not believe. “Em, why are your eyes shut?” “P-please…please don’t make me look in the mirror…!” “What? Why?” Amy asked with concern. “Is everything okay?” “I…I don’t wanna wear one…not like this!” Emily sniffled. “Why not? Didn’t you say you were gonna try it on? Do you not want to anymore?” “Th-that’s…that was different…!” she whined with a sniffle. “I-I said I was gonna do it…but then…then Joyce made you!” Amy went silent for a moment, then asked in a clear voice, “...And that must have made you feel pretty uncomfortable, right?” “Yes!” Emily stressed, and her world became no less dark. “It’s…it’s different when somebody else does it…and…and I don’t like it!” “...Is it because you don’t like me?” The suggestion was enough to make the girl’s eyes widen with horror. She spun her head and looked up at Amy with a deep sense of regret. “N-no! I-I didn’t mean it like that…! I-I just…I…” She was what? Embarrassed? Nervous? Obviously, but what else? Scared. Fearful. Being like this was one of the single-handedly most vulnerable states Emily could find herself in. By now she knew how malleable she could be when she was treated like a kid. The diapers just did something at this point, because it affirmed and reinforced just about every tiny tweak or installment Joyce made to her brain, her body, and emotions. And she loved it. She loved all of it. That moment right then made it clear what she loved, and why she was so scared to accept any of it in a strange place without her significant other. Every wall imaginable inside her heart and mind crumbled whenever it was time. By the time Joyce had her up on the changing table she was nothing but soft putty ready to be played with. There was no need for an iron box to keep herself together, held together by chains and locks; only Joyce was supposed to have the key too. But with how Emily’s younger half was trying to feel right this very minute, she realized shockingly that duplicate keys apparently existed. What Joyce could do to her…could others as well? It suddenly became a terrifying thought of a world without Joyce. A time and a place where Emily could be convinced to feel like the small little girl she’d been trained to be, yet all without Joyce having any part in it. But it was Joyce that made her like this, not Emily! This was Joyce that made her like being a baby, right? It wasn’t herself that liked it! She liked it because Joyce liked it! So her body felt physically ill. Her stomach was turning over and over, trying to fight the endorphins and fuzzy feelings that were essentially pavloved into leaking into her brain right when the babying began. She wasn’t allowed to feel like this, which is why it made her restless because her body wouldn’t listen. It needs to be Joyce! It can’t be anyone else! It has to be Mommy…! “Emily? Honey, look in the mirror?” Amy calmly pointed, and as much as Emily didn’t want to, for some reason, she did turn her head. Slowly her eyes fell on the reflection and there she was. Emily, wearing a diaper. The upper half was hiding underneath her shirt, but not enough to see the rest of the button snaps where the wings of her diaper fell in place. It was a cacophony of colors. Her puffy crotch was a pleasing purple, followed by her yellow buttons, and red trims. It looked weird for a second, like it was the utmost ridiculous fashion statement. Because it was, and that was the point. But beyond that, it was her normal shirt, bare thighs, and socks that she came in. Right beside her, holding her by the shoulder was Amy, smiling simply. “You know what I see?” Amy squeezed the frightened girl’s shoulder. “What I see is a very brave girl who was nice enough to let me indulge myself. But I also see someone a little afraid with how they might be feeling?” she phrased it like a question, but even her guesses were dead-on like her sense of size. Tearily, Emily nodded. “But what I also see is just Emily. Emily, the same gal that came over to my house today to hang out, help me with my work, and be a really good friend. You see her too, right?” See…herself? She…she saw the diaper. The flustered and embarrassed girl. The worried look on her face that just wanted Mommy, and so much more. But…maybe somewhere…was Emily, Emily Sen there too? “I-...” Emily started, but her soft voice trembled. “Take your time, it’s okay!” Amy comforted her. “I-I…I don’t wanna feel like this…n-not unless it’s with Joyce…!” “And why’s that?” “B-because…!” Emily balled her hands by her sides. “J-Joyce is why I’m like this! She made me like this! I-I…I wouldn’t do any of this if she didn’t start it…! And I do like it! B-but…! She’s the reason! S-so…so I can’t do it without her! It’s not fair!” “So the way she makes you feel…that’s how you’re feeling right now?” It wasn’t love that she was feeling. She loved Joyce. Loved-loved. Romantically, intimately, and innocently all the same like a child loved their mother. But she didn’t love Amy. Not like that. There was no romance, and that was clear. They were friends and that was as far as it went. But the babyish sensations and headspace…it made the poor girl exhausted with each second trying to reject what by now felt so instinctual…! “Yes…!” Emily cried, wiping her eyes. Was this what cheating felt like? Was she cheating on Joyce? “I’m…I’m cheating on her…!” Emily bawled. “Awh…honey…” And despite her cries, Amy hugged her even tighter. “Sweetheart, it’s not cheating? You’re not, I promise!” “H-how though…! I-I’m doing what Joyce and I always do!” “But honey, she gave us permission, remember?” “B-but…! But that’s…!” she breathed uncomfortably. “Emily, I’m absolutely sure that this is something special to you, because I know it sure is for Joyce. It’s okay if you’re nervous about feeling this way without her, but you gotta know that it’s not bad to feel like this?” How could it not be bad? She felt guilty, did she not? Wasn’t that more than enough reason? Joyce got jealous all the time, and she must have been fuming right this very minute! Wasn’t she upset on the phone? Angry? Were they going to fight when they went home? Was Joyce going to even take her back? “Honey, Emily? Look at me,” and with some steering via her chin, Emily did. “Loving Joyce, and…being a baby; those are two separate things. Joyce isn’t mad, and you shouldn’t feel guilty.” “B-but…! But Joyce…!” Emily whined like saying it again somehow made a difference. “She’s…she’s…!” Christ, why couldn’t she think of any other way to explain it?! “Sh-she’s my mommy!” “I…” Amy hung her words, freezing for just half a second, but holding herself together far better than Emily was right then. Either way, the woman was becoming fully aware of just what kind of box she’d opened. “I know, hon… I’m not replacing Joyce, okay? I’m not replacing Mommy. Just…think of it like this, okay? Joyce is Mommy, right? So…I’m Mommy’s friend, right? I’m just Auntie Amy. Yeah! I’m allowed to take care of you while Mommy’s at work, right? She said I could, didn’t she?” That she did, and bombshell after bombshell kept hitting the frightened girl. Amy said it herself: she wasn’t replacing Joyce. Babying was separate from loving Joyce. Cheating was loving someone else, but that wasn’t this. It was just babying, but with another person. Not a complete stranger, but someone between Joyce and Emily, and someone that Joyce trusted enough to tell Emily to behave for her. Auntie… She was Amy. Auntie Amy, and not Mommy. It was difficult to digest, all because it meant going off the good faith of a person holding all the cards. “Oh– I see those tears drying up?” And before Emily could feel herself, Amy’s fingers brushed the last few specks of wetness on her cheeks. “Emily, another thing,” Amy started in a soothing voice, “If Joyce was okay enough to let me do with you what she does, don’t you think that she would rather you feel the same way when it’s with her? Joyce can be…competitive,” Amy giggled for a second, “but you are the last, no– not even someone she would ever even consider trying to hurt. She wouldn’t want to see you feeling like this, sweetheart. I won’t pretend like I know her reasons, and you’re gonna get to hear them from her, but you should know that none of this was ever to make you feel upset?” And whenever Emily got carried away by her emotions or feelings, she quite never had the mental capacity to consider what felt so obvious. Joyce never intentionally tried to hurt her. It was always from a place of good intentions, no matter what the outcome was. So…she was supposed to feel okay with this? She was allowed to? “B-but…sh-she sounded mad on the phone…!” Emily’s voice went thick, near ready to cry again. “Because it sounds like she had some big feelings to go through herself, but that doesn’t have anything to do with you, hon. Joyce still loves you, and nothing’s changed. Give it just a couple more hours and she’s gonna be here to pick you up, okay?” “I-I…I wanna call her…” Emily squeaked. “Yeah?” Amy nodded softly. “Okay, let’s give her a call. Why don’t we head upstairs though? It’s a bit cleaner up there!” Amy’s hold on Emily wasn’t let go the whole trip up the stairs, and the silent spectator to the entire event was quietly following behind them, one paw at a time. “You just have a seat…right here,” Amy sat Emily on the bigger couch where Ashes pounced up right beside her, brushing against her naked leg. “He makes me feel better whenever I pet him,” Amy suggested, pointing at her friend which Emily couldn’t help but smile at. “W-wait…” Emily looked around with worry, like the weight of the world was coming down on her all over again. “I-I forgot my phone…” “Nope! Nuh-uh,” Amy softly refused and planted her right back on the cushion she sat. “You can use my phone. Just sit and relax, okay?” Amy pulled hers from her pocket, pressed a few things on the screen and shortly thereafter had it in Emily’s hands, soon to be cradled against her ear. Is…is she gonna pick up? A horrible worry made her heart ache, suddenly wishing she wasn’t using both hands to hold the phone, just so she could pet the cat for comfort. “Hello? Amy?” But there Joyce’s digital voice was in a hushed whisper. “J-Joyce?” Emily stammered, already feeling the waterworks ready to burst again. “Emily? Honey? Is everything okay?” More urgency, more concern. Like she always had whenever Emily got like this. Like things were still the same between them. The hiccups started and now the tears were free-flowing. “A-are…a-are y-you…nn…not mad at m-me?” “Em–...one second, okay?” On the other end, in a very tall building, in a room filled with blazers, blouses, glasses of water and secretaries, Joyce stood from the table. She wasn’t noticed however, courtesy of the darkness that allowed the projector facing the other wall to flourish. But of course her secretary noticed. “I need to excuse myself,” Joyce whispered into Sheila’s ear, and the tone implied no room for negotiation. So Sheila nodded, and Joyce quietly removed herself. The hallway was busy so she walked right down to the adjacent and empty conference room. After the soft click of a heavy door, she asked, “Baby, you still there?” “Mm-mmhmm…” “Sweetheart, why are you crying?” Joyce sat against the table. Her heart was already a mess after the first phone call, and now this? “I-I’m sorry I asked to wear one…!” “Sorry? Wearing what, a diaper?” “Y-yes…!” Emily poured out with a crying wail. “Wh…why are you sorry, sweetie?” “Because…! I-I made you mad…! W-we have rules, and…and I tried breaking them…!” “Emily, baby, I’m not mad!” Joyce softly assured, and the fact all she could do was offer her words and nothing more only heightened the frustration with herself. “You didn’t try to break any rule! Did Amy put a diaper on you?” “Y-yes… I’m sorry! I’m so sorry…!” “Don’t apologize! It’s nothing to be sorry for…!” “B-but I cheated…!” “Cheated?” Romantically? With Amy? Her impulsive self was triggered for just a second, but then she tried to imagine it. Cute little Emily, getting frisky with Joyce’s friend that was given the opportunity to diaper her? Her baby getting involved romantically? Needless to say, the image hardly fit in Joyce’s mind, despite her unbelievable jealousy. “Emily, sweetheart? You didn’t cheat, though?” “B-but I wore one without you…!” Her heart was cracking. Is that how it felt for her? “Emily, baby, it’s not cheating, I promise you. I’m not mad, and I love you just as much, okay? You didn’t do anything that made me mad or upset.” She could admit to her own faults of admittedly being that way at first, but she dared not mention something Emily would undoubtedly try to shoulder the blame for. “B-but…” “But nothing,” Joyce refuted, and Emily could practically hear the smile in her voice. “You enjoy yourself, Emily. Today’s a fun day, remember? I asked Amy to do what she did because I love you, and I still do. You know, if you’re gonna call me like this in tears it’s just gonna make Mommy love you even more?” And Joyce called herself Mommy, and that didn’t go unnoticed by the sobbing girl. Mommy. Joyce was still Mommy, and Joyce was Joyce. She was loved and nothing had changed. Was this really all just in her head? Were things really okay? “It’s just a little bit longer until I’m out of work, okay?” Joyce softly explained. “The first thing I’m doing when I leave here is I’m gonna drive right over there, and give you the biggest hug and kiss you’ve ever gotten, understood?” “Mm…mhm…” “Does that clear things up a little? You know I love you, right?” “I love you too…” Emily whimpered back. “And I know you do,” Joyce chuckled. “I know it must be scary right now…but I’m so proud of you, Emily. I want you to feel comfortable being yourself and enjoying all the things we do whenever you want. I…it’s too much for right now, but what you asked to do, and what I decided because of it…it’s what I wanted. It’s what I wanted, but I was too afraid to ask. You make me so happy, Emily, and there’s nothing you could do to change that.” “Uh…uh-huh…!” “And those better be happy tears I’m hearing!” Joyce giggled, wiping a silent tear of her own. “Are you okay now? Do you think you can tough it out for a little bit longer?” “Mm…mhmm…” “Good. Now, can you do me an extra big favor?” “Yeah…?” “Can you please put Amy on the phone for me?” “Mhm…I…I love you.” “And I love you so much too.” The phone slowly left her ear, and Emily departed from a conversation she didn’t want to end. She already missed the sound of her voice, but parental orders superseded her own emotions as she shakily held up the phone to Amy. Amy took it with a smile and held the phone with one hand to her ear. “Hey Joyce!” “Is Emily listening?” “One sec,” Amy paused, definitely noticing the curious girl on the couch. She grabbed the TV remote and brought the screen to life, quietly pointing Emily at the screen, then she left for the farther end of the apartment. “Okay, just us.” “What happened? Did everything go alright?” Now without the need to a big and strong front, the woman’s worries were out on full display. “As well as it could…” Amy spoke awkwardly. “I’ll be honest; I knew this meant a lot to you both, but I guess I didn’t fully realize that until, well…she started crying.” “Is she mad at you?” “No, not that I think, at least. I…admittedly, was a little excited… But I think she thinks she messed up, Joyce. Like she did something she wasn’t supposed to. But I did try telling her that what this is and your relationship are separate things.” Joyce sighed. “They are…” but they aren’t. “I knew this would be tough, but…that doesn’t make it feel any easier… A-Amy…I’m sorry, I…I didn’t make you feel uncomfortable, did I?” “You gave me a choice, didn’t you? Like I said to Emily: I don’t quite fully get it, but…I know enough that there’s things I like about it too, so…I guess being included some way…it felt…kind of nice, I guess.” It went the same way for Amy. Without a subjective child in earshot, it somehow made it easier to be more expressive. “I…I liked it.” “I’m glad…” Joyce sighed, then had a silent doubletake. What did she just say? She’s glad? “I-I mean…I’m glad that…it didn’t make you feel uncomfortable… Wait– what did you even put her in? What did you make?” “Didn’t I say it’s-a secret?” Amy finally teased. “Amy?” “Ou,” Amy’s joking fizzled out. “Okay, okay. I made her a cloth diaper. Something Idunno…just felt like doing.” “So she really is diapered right now?” “Mhm,” Amy nodded to herself. “And she hasn’t tried taking it off?” “None that I can tell.” “And…she didn’t say anything? Like…anything strange?” Amy hung her head. “Strange? Like…?” “Like…” Joyce frowned. It was easily her least favorite and most hated, but necessary evil. “Like a safeword…” Amy blinked. “Oh. Oh! No, nope. Nothing that I could tell. She did say a lot about how she didn’t want to or felt embarrassed after the fact, but…she never did say anything out of the blue.” So she really did go through all of it…without any hard or immovable issue… Another relieved sigh from Joyce. “Okay…good.” “And Joyce, believe me, I’m doing everything I can to make her feel comfortable, but what if I give her a breather? Take off the diaper maybe?” “...No. If she isn’t trying to get out of it, I want her to stay in one.” “And…you’re sure?” Amy asked skeptically. “It…What we do, Amy…it’s not meant to be a game, and Emily knows that.” There unfortunately wasn’t much time right then to talk. “We’re both committed in our own way… So when she’s in a diaper, she stays in one. And…whatever happens,” which as the past would indicate could certainly be a lot, “it’s only a couple more hours.” “Okay, Mommy, but don’t take too long,” Amy chuckled, and Joyce all by her lonesome was blushing with a quivering mouth. “Joyce,” she giggled, knowing exactly from the silence what she may have looked like right then, “she just called you that on the phone in front of me? That’s not including the few times she already used it with me a little bit ago.” “Sh-she called me that in front of you?” Joyce’s heart did a somersault, but the point still stood. Emily openly acknowledged her as Mommy? In front of other people? And she wasn’t there to hear it? Her heart melted as did her annoyance flare. “And sorry in advance, but in trying to calm her down, I may have appointed myself the Auntie position…” “What?” Joyce sounded confused, “Al…alright,” she dismissed the confusing subject. “Listen, what’s she doing now?” “Watching TV. Didn’t want her eavesdropping just in case.” “Is there a bed she could use? Or the couch?” “I can make that happen, yeah. Why?” “She needs a nap,” Joyce decided right there and then. “And if I’m lucky she’ll be ready to get up by the time I’m there. I think that’ll help her calm down the most…” “Yeah, I can do that. Er…should I say that you told her to have one, though?” “No,” Joyce sounded quite clear. “Don’t use the ‘n’ word around her. Just…can you think of some way to do it?” “Have her take a nap without suggesting she take one? What a tricky request.” “Please?” “I’ll get it done,” Amy laughed confidently. “Any last words I should give her?” “Yes. Please tell her how much I love her…” “Can do! Now go finish up work, Mommy!” Amy laughed, and Joyce silently hung up. “Okay…” Amy puffed out her cheek, putting away her phone. “Nap time… Nap time…” she looked around, then finally landed her eyes on a bedroom door. “Blanket.” And she disappeared from the main room, gathering what she needed, all the while reflecting on everything that had happened thus far. Why was she going to such lengths? She wasn’t even being paid. In fact, she was the one paying Emily, the girl she was somehow about to convince to take a nap without making it explicit. She made a diaper of her own volition, and even put the very girl that it was meant for into one. Then she held and consoled her; said anything she could just to keep her from crying. And even labeled herself as an authority figure. Auntie Amy… “An aunt, huh…” Amy murmured to herself, arms filled with a pillow and blanket. An aunt. Auntie Amy… “Emily?” Amy sauntered back into the living room. “Kinda chilly in here, right? How about a blanket to warm up a little, huh?”   It was on rare occasions, almost never when Joyce, Ms. Summers was the first one to announce their leave. “Sheila, I’ve wrapped up what I needed to. I’ll be heading out first.” Sheila blinked, far more accustomed to being the one to collect her boss first. “Okay. If it wouldn’t be an issue, looking at the briefings scheduled for tomorrow right now might–” “I’ve finished my work,” Joyce repeated, but quite more firmly, shushing her secretary into a silence. Her tone had not gone unnoticed, and finally Sheila nodded simply. “Good work today. I’ll leave those things on your desk for tomorrow.” “Thank you.” And Ms. Summers was gone. Her heels didn’t give her the opportunity to sprint, so she race-walked across the parking garage, beelining for her car and skirting just under the speed limit where traffic didn’t intervene, going as fast as she could to the one who needed her the most. Was she asleep? Napping? Did she cry at all any more after their phone call? So many questions, so few answers, and Joyce wanted to know the truth about everything so dearly and so badly. It didn’t take long to park, and not much longer to race through the empty front of the store and back through the showcase room. Things looked somewhat tidy, but she noticed the displaced coffee table and giant cloth rug. A cushion was missing from the couch and laying on the floor, and sure enough, Joyce spotted an article she recognized. She walked around and over to the items, picking them up and holding them in her hands. Emily’s pants, no doubt, and sitting inside them was also a familiar cyan pair of panties. After neatly folding them she walked up the stairs. She softly knocked on the door, and a few seconds later Amy answered. “Hey Joyce!” Amy greeted her quietly, “Come on in–!” “Where’s Emily?” Joyce spoke in a normal volume, but Amy quickly shushed her. “Shh! She’s right here!” Amy whispered, pulling the surprised woman by the hand and leading her inside. Round around the corner, there she was. An all too familiar black head of hair, cutely disarrayed by her head against a plush-looking pillow. She was against the arm of the long couch, covered by a blanket where she slumbered so soundly. So she really did go to sleep, and for that, Joyce was relieved. “You convinced her?” Joyce whispered, only barely taking her eyes off the angel. Amy looked unimpressed. “I tricked her. What, did you put some bad blood between her and early bedtimes, or something?” “She did it herself… It’s my job to make her do the things that she doesn’t want to. Was…was she good?” It felt inappropriate to ask, at first, but considering how much Amy had already done, was it not a fair question? “Mm…” Amy sagely nodded, right by Joyce’s side, watching Emily the same way she did. But suddenly Joyce noticed something, and Amy was already smirking. “Wait, is that…?” “Ya-huh,” Amy nodded. “Hang on…” Joyce mumbled, fumbling quickly with her purse. Where was her phone…?! “I charge, you know?” Amy joked. “Charge as much as you want…” Joyce couldn’t hide her smile as she aimed her camera. And while there was no one to say ‘cheese’, it didn’t stop Joyce from going, “one…two…three!” And like that another memory was immortalized and recorded. Joyce looked ready to gush as she was absolutely enamored by the picture on her phone, just peeking over it to see the real deal all over again. Hiding right beneath her short black hair was another mass of black, just as soft-looking and cuddly, only belonging to someone else. Sleeping just as soundly, save for the quiet purrs, was Ashes, right against Emily’s head and neck, halfway underneath the blanket. “Look at our two babies!” Amy giggled, and Joyce couldn’t help but smile herself. “Wanna get her up?” And while Joyce had one answer, just as she was about to give it, she hesitated. “Actually…do you want to do some coffee first? Would you mind making some?” “Should I get a cup ready for Emily?” Amy was already walking into the kitchen. “No…not yet. Was there any juice left in her thermos?” After a quick shake from it in the fridge, “Yeah, still some in here.” “Then she’ll be fine,” Joyce decided. “And…how much did you plan on paying her?” “Not a lot a lot, but I kept track of the hours…” Amy pondered, then noticed Joyce. “W-wait, Joyce, what’re you…?” “For everything today,” Joyce offered a small amount of bills on the counter. Clearly and honestly, she said, “Thank you.” “I…get the feeling you don’t know how this quite works…” Amy smirked, eyeing the money suspiciously. “I pay Emily. You don’t pay me anything?” “Amy, stop,” Joyce took on a serious look. “You’ve done a lot…this obviously isn’t the same as her working for you.” “Maybe, but she did work for me. And all this?” she glanced over at Emily. “It…” her expression grew softer. “It wasn’t work… So, no,” she gently pushed the money back. “I didn’t do this to be paid.” “Amy, but–?” Joyce sounded confused, but Amy continued the conversation in their lowered voices. “But nothing. Do I really have to spell it out? I…I liked it,” Amy admitted, but immediately turned her head the other way. “Gosh, even I can get embarrassed sometimes, you know?” “You…liked it?” Joyce blinked, sounding stunned. “What would you have done if I didn’t?” Amy taunted. “Yes, I did. I don’t know…once you offered me that choice on the phone, yeah, I was surprised, and maybe it was a little weird, but… I dunno…it just…clicked.” As happy and go-lucky as Amy could be, even she had places in her mind and emotions even she didn’t fully know, and her visible discomfort right then was a testament to that. Her playful way of lashing out was just to hide something deeper. Yet being hired as a designer for baby clothes, involving herself so deeply with befriending clients, seeing the beautiful baby herself model them, and lastly being given the chance to snap her into one of her own creations… “I would’ve liked an apology if I was against all of this,” Amy was clear, but again, her look started to falter and her hands held her elbows. “But here I am…somehow glad I could get your girlfriend to sleep…” Joyce listened silently in awe, unsure of what to say. “No? Nothing?” Amy asked expectantly. “I-I…” Joyce blinked. “Sorry…I’m just…surprised, I guess… I’m sorry.” “Did Emily learn to say sorry so much from you?” Amy sounded cheeky again. “Don’t be sorry. Just…I hope she doesn’t hold any of this against me.” “She won’t,” Joyce sounded adamant, and that truly did make some of the tension subside from the seamstress, even if she didn’t know she had it to begin with. “No matter what I say, Amy, it doesn’t change that you got this far with Emily… She really does trust you…” and the words came off on an almost somber note. “And that bothers you?” Amy asked, but she didn’t sound offended, but like the inquisitive friend she’d been for so long that just took Joyce even longer to realize. With a guilty look Joyce stared down at the counter, then up at Amy. “It did…for a few seconds… I can’t help but get jealous, but I’m not anymore. Not in the slightest about this. I know you wouldn’t try anything, and Emily wouldn’t either, but I can’t help feeling that way at first. I’m just…protective.” “Mmm,” Amy nodded. “Can’t say Emily’s my type. I guess I like mine a little taller, more muscle…no diapers?” Joyce raised a brow and Amy giggled. “Though, I guess as a kind of impromptu niece, she’s exactly my kinda type. I get to say that, right? Even if I don’t know why?” “Have you felt like this before…?” Joyce asked. “No, not really,” she shrugged, and pulled out the pot of hot coffee. “Not until after today…or I guess, maybe since I started working on her outfits, I got more curious. Call each extra step another ounce of curiosity, until…well, today.” Joyce nodded, accepting a warm mug for her hands to hold. “I don’t know if we feel the same, but…it feels good, right?” “It does,” Amy quietly agreed and nodded. “I don’t have even half the experience as you though, and I basically just got my foot through the front door on…all this weird stuff, but yeah, after today, I felt good. I…maybe I was doing things already, I don’t know. Taking off her jacket…helping put together her lunch…and…when…you asked me to do what…you know. I really got her to open up to me, and I can’t describe how good that felt, and I don’t know why.” “I’m sorry…” Joyce said again, and Amy rolled her eyes. “Didn’t I say to stop that?” “I’m sorry for involving you like this,” Joyce repeated, only with more clarity. “I involved you. Selfishly. This was for Emily. I…I’ve wanted her to get used to this. Eventually…involving diapers and this kind of treatment around other people. I…I used you to help Emily feel more comfortable with others treating her like a baby.” There was silence, save for Ashes very distant and quiet slumbering purring. “I know.” Amy answered simply, and Joyce’s mouth hung agape. “Y-you knew?” “Obviously. Joyce, I can tell how much Emily matters to you? How long has she been in your life now? Besides, call me selfish too, because I actually decided to listen to you and use your authority against Emily. I’m just as bad as you are.” “To make her behave…?” “To try and calm her down. If Mommy said so, then she has to behave. Don’t think that I liked doing that,” Amy partially frowned before sipping from her mug. “...I won’t put you through that again.” “I…I didn’t know if it was ‘okay’ to do, but I just did it anyway,” Amy muttered. “Is that what I’m supposed to do with her? Hold your name over her head like it’s some kind of end-all be-all?” “As a last resort, yes. But up until that point, no. Thank you for today… I won’t do that to you again.” Joyce offered a weak smile. “...Well…” Amy turned her head to avoid eye contact. Joyce raised her head in surprise. “I said I liked today, didn’t I?” “But…” “If…if it’s possible…and Emily is okay with it…again. I-...I want to do this again. The right way, and not start so…awkwardly.” “Amy…are you serious?” “Yes, I’m serious,” Amy answered, trying to wipe the small blush off her face. “It’s not like I’m going to stop making clothes for her, and I still want to be…involved. And fine, let’s call it what it is at this point: babysitting. Let me give it another shot…” “Bab–...A-Amy, that’s…you realize what that means, right?” “Yes, I do. Or, at least I think I do… What, just keep her busy, right? Come over, play a little, chit-chat, lunch?” She turned her head for a live example. “Naps? Can I have her still try some things on for me? Like, adult clothes? I could still use her help with that. But that’s all there is to it, right? I…I know I’m making it sound like a chore, but…ugh, yes, I want to do this again, but better, okay? I just want to see how I feel about it…” Today was just a tiny sliver, and like it was the forbidden fruit itself, Amy’s greed and gluttony simply wanted a greater taste. “But you know that she wears…diapers?” Joyce cautiously asked, and Amy herself paused for a moment. “So she does use them…” Amy concluded, exhaling with a nod. “That’s…okay. I…think. I can get used to that. Sure.” And Amy despite her bravery left Joyce giving her a slightly skeptical look. Quite frankly, it wasn’t much of something that one decided comfortability with in just a single moment. “Well…” Amy openly second-guessed herself, “maybe if I had an example…” Joyce quietly nodded. An example… “So will you bring it up to her?” Amy asked. “...Babysitting?” The intent was clear in her voice, and the desire was shining in her eyes. Amy’s thumbs were still sickeningly green, and she had merely only watched from the other side of the fence for so long. But Joyce could see it right away. Maybe it was only a fraction of herself, or still certainly a greater part, but it was clear nonetheless. The want to be in. The desire to partake and contribute. All this time Joyce had toyed with the idea of growing and expanding their circle. Safely and securely, somehow, and all of that on top of the impossible reality where Emily became comfortable with any of that. Yet the more she thought, the more the desires and wishes started to overflow, right up until she was in that convention in another state. She really did confront her selfish wishes and was scared because of it. And right now, leaning against the countertop and staring at her from the other side of the island was that very second chance. A golden goose that Joyce couldn’t have imagined as a better fit. Someone just as open-minded and self-electing. Maybe people just like or similar to Joyce really did exist. Maybe…maybe Isabelle was being honest? If Amy was genuine, what’s to say there weren’t others like her. Sh…a-and Sheila…? Emily opened a door, and Joyce found the key leading to one even bigger than that. Monumental in size, and hiding away a path and place that seemed frighteningly exciting. She saw Amy briefly glance over where Emily lay, eliciting a tiny smile from the woman, and it was another wonderful jolt for the woman sitting in her chair, leaving Joyce quietly astonished. A doorway… No, a gateway. A pathway so great, it wasn’t big enough just for two people now. So…so much bigger. So much… In the span of one morning and early afternoon, Joyce’s worldview, feelings, wants and wishes had been changed entirely. Fantasy farther away that hid in the void and recesses of her mind were suddenly being tugged forward, and phantom echoes of silly thoughts and dreams started to sharpen as tangibility took away their fuzzy shapes. She could see it. A miraculous, exciting future; one that she wanted so dearly with Emily, and one that she now knew was completely and totally possible. “Auntie…” Joyce quietly muttered, but loud enough for Amy to hear. “It– I just said it to help her calm down…” Amy mumbled with a flustered look. “I don’t even know if it worked… Joyce?” But Joyce didn’t answer. Her cheeks were rosy and her teeth were on full display as a smile grew in size on her face. “S-sorry,” Joyce chuckled, snapping out of it. “Would you mind getting that thermos out, actually?” she looked fondly over at the couch. “I think it’s time for someone to finish their nap…!”

It's the best we can hope for, but ... This isn't the stepmom from Hell surveying the landscape.  This is what we call "authorial voice."  This is the author, speaking directly to you from outside the narrative framework.  Frankly, an author should never use the authorial voice in this manner.  This looks like a rookie mistake, but Les is far too experienced a writer not to have noticed it.  He must be up to something here, so we shall just have to wait and see what he has in mind.