ENTR' ACTE “What's up with Loretta? She's definitely off her feed.” Foregoing the chair permanently parked in front of the Chief's desk, Herb Canon sank into the couch against the far wall with a long, slow sigh. “Unlikely,” Chief Thornquist observed. “I have never known Miss Carlson to be off her feed.” “Yeah? Walt, she smiled at me on the way in; honest to God, she smiled at me!” “Probably setting you up to ask for Priscilla's autograph,” the Chief smirked. “Now that she's a celebrity, and all.” “It was just a cameo appearance,” Herb protested. “That damned Emmett Bailey,” he muttered under his breath. “I heard that,” Walt barked. “Bailey wants to interview Pris and Julia, both … the mother/daughter tag team that nabbed the notorious diaper thieves terrorizing Minneapolis and the suburbs. He's angling for a live broadcast … the Sunday morning time slot right before Meet the Press.” “Oh, God,” Herb groaned; “what next?” “So, Q-Ball called me last night-- after he got off the phone with Walt Mischof. Our esteemed District Attorney dropped Grady's name into the conversation … wanted to know what I knew.” “What did you say?” “As little as possible. Just a summary of the phone call I had yesterday morning with Fart, Barf, and Itch. Q-Ball got the message, and hop scotched it over to the sorority house. That's all I know.” “Julia was present for the whole shebang. Basically, Grady told the DA how it was going to go down, and made it clear that he would deal with Spats Belmondo, thank you very much. He softened the blow with a vague promise to lubricate Ballstrom's run for higher office. Apparently, Gareth left the room a lot happier than when he walked in.” “Figures,” the Chief laughed. “So, what happened in court? Who drew the ticket?” “Tom Reynolds.” “Who lives just down the street from you. Small world.” “And Spats dropped by, with his mouthpiece and that Toothpick Charlie character … never can recall his real name.” “Just a face in the crowd,” Walt snickered. “Did Grady get what he wanted?” “Yeah … complete with a one on one with Belmondo in the Judge's chambers while the rest of us stood around and looked dumb. I'm glad Bailey wasn't there for that one!” “Friendly conversation, you think?” “Looked like it, but I hope to find out more tonight.” “Now, that's quite a teaser!” “Priscilla, Grady, Doctor Robinson, and some hospital guy named Amos Waring are challenging our guys to a drinking contest. Tequila shots, no less. Priscilla wants me to put in an appearance, and for the two of us to get drunk and do a little male bonding. Julia's planning to come along to pick up the pieces and put everybody to bed, which could be a trace awkward since Pris and Grady are sleeping together.” “WHAT?” The Chief bounded out of his chair. “Say that again!” “Yep. Madly in love, and hoping to have a baby … this, with a guy she first met on Monday morning. But Julia says that it's the real deal, and we have to go with it. After what went down in the sorority last night, she's become one of Grady's biggest fans.” “Dear God! And Amos Waring is mixed up in this?” “Yeah. Why? Do you know him?” “You don't? My God, Herb; down in the Third, the guy's a demigod. He beaten up so many pinball machines in the Lake Street bars that the boys periodically pass the hat to raise money to repair the damage. He's serious competition!” “Duly noted … and I'll see what I can find out about Spats. After what Priscilla told us over breakfast, the odds are that Grady has taken him off the board.” “Why do I get the feeling,” the Chief observed as he settled back into his chair, “that we're now getting to the good part.” “Yeah. Grady's CIA all right, and get this … he picked up the phone, called someone high up the food chain, and presto! Priscilla's got a slot at Quantico waiting for her-- the embassy security course, no less. The plan is to have her head up the security detail that is going to be protecting Grady's wife, girlfriends, and above all else, any children born into this oddball household of theirs. Walt, we are going to be drowning in Stepford husbands, and wives!” “But why?” The Chief got up, and started to walk back and forth in the limited confines of his office. He liked to think on his feet, and what Herb Canon was laying out for him was an intricate puzzle that, so far, didn't make much sense. “Why,” he repeated. “Yeah.” Herb paused to rub his eyes, then his forehead. He badly wished that Julia was in the room. “This is all second hand, you understand. What Priscilla and Julia learned last night … what the whole sorority and a bunch of campus cops heard … is that Grady had a wife and daughter in Viet Nam, but while he was in the hospital, someone raided their village and massacred everyone except the babies and little children. His wife … his whole family except for his daughter … they're all dead. What Grady and his buddies back east think is that someone is hoping to cash in if it turns out that she's inherited his gift for languages-- cash in, big time.” “And I take it that we're not talking about My Lai here?” In the Chief's mind, the pieces were beginning to come together. “No. They've kept the lid on this one, and with good reason. Walt, if his daughter … if he has more kids … can you see where this is going? The Agency will want them to pick up where he leaves off ...” “The perfect spies … raised from birth to do the Agency's bidding. Now, it makes sense.” Walt Thornquist walked behind his desk, but he did not sit down. Opening a bottom drawer, he withdrew a bottle of aged Scotch. He poured two fingers into a pair of glasses sitting on the window ledge, and held one out to Herb. “There's a part of my conversation with Fart, Barf, and Itch that I most definitely did not share with Q-Ball,” Thornquist reluctantly admitted. “And remember, this guy was the head honcho in Counterintelligence.” Herb looked at him, knowing that a very hard punch was about to land. “I was told … bluntly told … that if Grady suddenly begins to rack 'em and stack 'em, we are to observe, but not to interfere. Hell, I got the distinct impression that if Grady needs a quick reload, we're supposed to help him out. Then, when the dust settles, I pick up the phone, call a certain number, and order up a disposal unit. Apparently, it's on permanent standby.” “And here I thought that the Agency's charter prohibited domestic operations. Silly me.” “Yeah.” The Chief swirled the scotch around in his glass, and then suddenly gulped it down. “Remember Jack Ruby?” “Sure. Talk about amateur hour. They must have been desperate.” “Langley and the Mafia have been in bed for a long time, maybe from the beginning. So be careful when you talk with Grady about Spats. I'm thinking that, whatever's going down, we're probably better off not knowing the details.” “Walt, we're talking about my daughter here-- and maybe about my grandchildren.” “I know,” Thornquist acknowledged. “And, if it comes to it, we'll do whatever we have to do to protect our own.” . . . . “Janis, we have to stop meeting like this,” Ian laughed. “People are going to talk!” Freshly diapered and arm in arm with Vickie and Priscilla, Ian was en route to Rita's office when he nearly collided with Rita and Janis in the corridor. Rita eyed the makeshift diaper bag slung over Priscilla's shoulder, “Did you get what you needed,” she asked. Priscilla nodded. “For now, but if we are going to go on using these hospital diapers, we'll need a more reliable supply.” “Agreed, but things should get a lot easier once Ian moves in with me. I'll bring some more to the bar … say around eight?” “Seven would be better; I'm treating Ian to his first Juicy Lucy, complete with gourmet fries and onion rings. It would be nice if you could join us.” “Thank you; I'd like that.” “Uh … excuse me, but do you two know each other?” Ian would have sworn that he had yet to perform the introductions. “Only by reputation,” Priscilla smiled. “My Dad thinks the world of Doctor Stevenson.” “He's a fine officer.” Rita smiled in turn. “And I'm hearing a lot of good things about his daughter.” The two women shook hands, and then Rita stepped back and gave the trio the once over. “So, are you also going to be moving in with us?” Seeing that Vickie and Priscilla had already come to some kind of agreement, Rita chose to be diplomatic. “Not right away.” Ian wanted to nip this particular conversation in the bud. “Rita, I have a lot of explaining to do ...” “We're going to use the conference room. Becky is rounding up the whole team, and Janis and I will join you as soon as she is properly diapered, complete with locking cover. She'll leave one key for Marcia, and you'll have the other three. Have you … uh … have you and the sorority house mom figured out how you are going to change so many diapers? During the day, when they're not here, your forty-one newly adopted daughters must be spread out all over the campus.” “I'm not going to be changing them!” Ian held up his hands in protest. “But you're right. Bernice and I have discussed this, and she pretty much told me that she would take care of it. Works for me!” “Figures,” Vickie chortled. “Another dad in the making who thinks that changing diapers is strictly women's work.” Ian flinched, involuntarily closing his eyes to keep the pain at bay. The memories … holding his daughter in his arms … the memories were still so intense. Priscilla gripped his arm more tightly, and Janis paled, her eyes filled with pity, knowing how much he was hurting. Rita stepped back, staring at him. Her arm came up, and then fell limply to her side before she could reach out to comfort him. Vickie, she reminded herself, had yet to hear the story, and could not possibly know how deeply such passing comments might wound. “Ian, when Becky showed me the photograph, the psychiatrist in me fled the room. Maybe my feelings for you are getting in the way, clouding my professional judgment, but all I want to do right now is take you in my arms and somehow make all this pain go away.” Rita swept the back of her hand across her eyes, wiping away the tears that had finally started to fall. “Right now, Candy is wrapping up a morning group for abused women. It's her specialty, although all of us have led these sessions at one time or another. They're heartbreaking, and they always run long because there's so much pain finally coming out into the open. But none of us … none of us ...” Rita slowly, slowly reached out to grasp his arm. “None of us,” she choked, “have ever sat down with a parent who's … who's … child has been taken. I don't know what to do, or say ...” “Rita?” Vickie's eyes bulged as she began to glimpse the truth. She had known Rita for more than ten years, and not once had she ever seen her friend cry. Not once had she so completely lost her composure. Standing so close to him, her arm still wrapped in his, Vickie could feel Ian shaking, his eyes once more tightly shut to ward off the pain. In vain. Inside his mind, it was like a slide show, one brightly lit image yielding to the next. His wife and child. Inside Janis, something snapped. Shrieking, she collapsed into Rita's arms, Rita instinctively hugging the distraught child close, trying to shield her from the awful realization that the monsters lurking in the deepest recesses of the human imagination turned out, far too often, to be only too real. Two orderlies, responding to her cries, rushed down the corridor. . . . . “Mission accomplished?” Suzie looked up from the mass of paperwork scattered across her desk as Wendy Stafford slid into a chair opposite her. “Mission accomplished,” Wendy confirmed. “Any pushback?” “None. All the other house moms I spoke with will follow your lead, no questions asked. Professor Grady is now off limits.” “Good … that's good to know.” Suzie leaned back in her chair, gazed up at the ceiling, and briefly shut her eyes. In the cold light of morning, nothing had changed. Ian's casual admission that he had been ready to die on that long ago, far off battlefield had rocked her to her core. For the first time in her life, she had been brought face to face with the cold, hard truth: war was not a movie or a TV show but real life, with real, enduring consequences for good people. And it had felt wonderful to cradle him in her arms and hold the baby bottle to his lips. With a house full of teenage girls to shepherd through college, year after year the hard work of guiding them into adulthood had satisfied her maternal urges. She had never met the right man, and had given little if any thought to having children of her own. Until now. Without warning, holding Ian in her arms had triggered something dormant deep inside her. Quite simply, she wanted to have a baby. And she knew exactly who she wanted the father to be. The problem was, he was already spoken for, and many times over. What to do? “The sheets were a little wet this morning,” Wendy confessed, bringing Suzie out of her reverie. “I think I need that heavy diaper Professor Grady wears,” she added, “ the one from the hospital. Do you think we could buy some?” “I'll ask Vickie … er … Doctor Robinson, to put me in touch with their purchasing department. But for now, what we'll do is line your adult diaper with baby diapers. They'll give you the extra absorbency you need, although the added bulk may take some getting used to.” “Anything's better than a wet bed! And Miss Marshall? What are we going to do to help ZAP? I heard that they're losing about a dozen members; can the house survive this?” “I'm not sure, Wendy; I'm not sure at all.” Suzie knew that she would have to have this conversation with Bernice at some point during the day. “I have a suggestion.” “Go on,” Suzie encouraged. She was intrigued to learn what Wendy had in mind. “Suppose … since all the girls staying in the house are going to be kept in diapers ...” “Where did you hear that,” Suzie asked sharply. “The girls who are bailing are telling everyone what happened last night. It's all up and down the Row … about the diapers, I mean, and what happened to Professor Grady out there … his wife being murdered and his baby kidnapped ...” “WHAT?” Suzie came halfway out of her chair. “YOU DON'T KNOW?” Wendy was equally stunned. “But I thought that … I thought that you knew.” “No,” Suzie admitted. “No, I didn't.” Her planned conversation with Bernice Miller had suddenly taken on new urgency. “I'm sorry; maybe I spoke out of turn.” Wendy was staring at the floor, retreating into her shell. “It's all right, Wendy … and thank you for telling me. Now, let's get back to your suggestion.” Suzie could see Wendy withdrawing into herself, and she wanted to prevent it from happening. “Since all the girls in the house are going to be kept in diapers,” Wendy repeated, “suppose that we transferred all the sorority girls who still wet the bed to ZAP. We could get everyone who wears diapers under one roof, and maybe there are enough girls like me that we could make good their losses … keep the house financially afloat.” “You'd do that, Wendy? Leave PISS to help a rival house?” “I don't want to leave, Miss Marshall, because I really like it here! But I'll do it, if that's what it takes to save their house!” Suzie was dumbfounded, and found herself literally at a loss for words. It took her several seconds to come up with a response, and it was heartfelt. “Wendy? Over the years, I've watched hundreds of girls come and go. But if I could adopt only one girl to be my daughter, it would be you. I am so proud of you … so really, really proud. I'll take this up with Bernice, and with the other house moms. We are not going to let ZAP fall by the wayside. That won't happen. I promise you: that won't happen.” . . . . Vickie had the presence of mind to hold up her hand, and halt the orderlies in mid-stride. “We're good,” she yelled out; “we're good.” Still hugging Janis. Rita caught Priscilla's eye. “I think that you should take charge,” she said. “Go with Vickie. If you need to make calls, there's a phone in the conference room. We can put it on speaker, if you think anyone out there needs to listen in. I'll take care of Janis.” “Maybe I ...” “No, Ian. I want you to go with Vickie and Priscilla … please. I'll take care of Janis.” Ian nodded, slowly and reluctantly, his concern for the girl trumping his anguished memories. The two parties went their separate ways, Ian looking back over his shoulder, wanting assurance that Janis would be okay. “All right.” Rita patted the changing table. All of the supplies that she would need were in the supply room next door. “I want you to get undressed, then crawl up on the table and wait for me. It's diaper time, and I'll just need a moment to collect what we need.” She dashed out the door without a backward glance, and returned just as Janis was draping her dress over the lone chair in the room. She waited for the girl to lay down, and then got to work. “You surprised me, Janis.” She had slid the heavy diaper under the girl's behind, and was busily coating her skin with baby powder. “What was that all about?” “When I was twelve, there was a little girl … nine years old? She lived a couple of streets over, went out to play in the front yard, and was never seen again. And now, I can't even remember her name. It's as if she never existed.” “It could have been me,” Janis shivered. “It could have been me. And now, no one would remember me. It would be like I never existed … no one would care!!” Janis broke down, and started bawling. Once she started, she couldn't stop. Rita pulled the diaper into place, and pinned it snugly. Then she began to work the baby pants up Janis' legs. “Lift your bum,” she commanded. Janis obeyed, and Rita wrestled the vinyl cover over the thick diaper. It took but a few more moments for the heavy diaper cover to complete the ensemble. When the lock clicked into place, Janis didn't even notice. Rita helped her to sit up, but she did not let go of Janis' hands. If anything, she tightened her grip. “It would have been eight years ago that Ian's daughter went missing,” she murmured. “Do you think that he's forgotten her? Do you think that your parents would forget you? Or would they go on, day after day after day, suffering the pain that poor man bears? Is there anything worse than losing a child?” “I guess not,” Janis whimpered, her eyes red and swollen. “We're going to talk about this,” Rita added as she squeezed Janis's hands, wanting to offer her reassurance. “And about how complicated your life has just become, because that man loves you. In a very real sense, you are what he has been searching for all these years.” Rita urged Janis to her feet, and reached for her dress. For her part, Janis was wiggling her hips, trying to get used to the unusual bulk between her legs. “In the beginning, you'll waddle like a toddler,” Rita warned, “but you'll get the hang of it soon enough. And you'll also soon discover that wearing your toilet around your waist has its advantages. At least, I'm assuming that the ladies rooms on campus are still the pig sties of old.” “They're gross,” Janis agreed, “and I won't miss them!” “Okay. Finish getting dressed, and dry your eyes. It's time for us to learn the truth.” Arm in arm, Rita and Janis headed back down the corridor, for what in her heart Rita sensed would be her date with destiny.

Hello! I've been into this for decades, but never reached for the comunity because I thought it was embarrassing. I hope we have fun here.

Katie Ann What do you do when you look seven years old but you’re actually a college student in your late teens? For Kathleen’s entire life, she had fought against people treating her much younger than her actual age. Feeling obligated to grow up fast to show people she wasn’t the age of her size, Kathleen never let her inner child out. Tired of fighting against the world, she explores the adult submissive world. What she finds, however, is an enjoyment of regression. Had she made a mistake? Would life be better if she just let people treat her the way she looks at seven years old? By Becky Anne ©2018-2024 ~o~O~o~ Chapter Thirty-Eight: Meet the Extended Family On the Monday before Thanksgiving, sitting around the table at dinner, Katie questioned her cluster mates about what they were doing the coming weekend.  Most people gave the expected answer of going home for the holiday. Unfortunately, Tiffany answered, “The holiday is too short to fly home to California, so I will probably hang out at the dorm.” Katie took her phone out and texted the person whose permission she needed to prevent that from happening.  Once she got the reply and read it, she said, “Daddie says you are welcome to spend the weekend with us.” “I guess I am spending Thanksgiving in Riverville,” Tiffany said.   Continuing to read her phone, Katie noticed that Daddie was asking her and Tiff to skip classes on Wednesday.  Looking at her friend, she asked, “Tiffany, we don’t have classes Wednesday, right?” “Correct, no classes from Wednesday to Friday. Why?” “Daddy wants us to skip classes Wednesday,” she said while texting that fact to her Daddy. ~o~O~o~ Tuesday evening, Katie was in the cluster reading a story while waiting for Daddie, dressed in pink bibs and a white sweatshirt with Snow White on it.  Her bottom crinkled from the diaper that Tiffany had just changed her into since her bottom was soaked. Once her little sister was dealt with, the older sister disappeared into her dorm room to finish packing. About eight o’clock, Daddie walked into the room and headed towards his daughter.  After checking the bottom, he walked towards Tiffany’s room to let her know he was there.  Returning to his daughter, he gathered up the young girl’s stuff and led her towards the car.  After placing the items in Escalade, he helped Tiff put her items in the car. Tiffany got in the passenger side while Daddie strapped the regressed girl into her car seat. ~o~O~o~ While they were getting out of the car in the garage, Daddie looked at Tiff and said, “I hope you don’t mind, but you will be joining Katie’s cousins in Katie's room this weekend. We are expecting a full house.” The regressed girl asked as she was following both of the adults into the house, “Cousins? How many cousins?” Daddie said, “There will be a total of five of you in your room, including you two. The youngest of the kids will sleep in a pack-and-play with their parents. Even at seven, you are the oldest of the cousins.” Katie just nodded and hid a yawn. ~o~O~o~ The next morning, Daddie got Katie up bright and early and quietly escorted her out of the room towards his room.  In his room, as he got her ready for the day, he said, “You are going with Stacy and your Aunt today. I think you will enjoy that more than being sent to work to prepare for guests.” “To school?” “Yes, to school. I expect you to be a good student today. I don’t want to hear about any bad marks on your record.” Katie just nodded, not knowing what to say, and headed to the kitchen to have a bowl of cereal. When she was almost eating the phone rang. After Daddie was done speaking about it, he said, “That was your auntie saying she was on her way.” She went to the mud room to get her coat and shoes, and then she followed her daddie to the porch.   Soon, Auntie was driving up the driveway with her car.  When she stopped, Katie walked up to the minivan and got into the back. As they got on the road, Katie said to her best friend, "I never thought I would be going to school with you, bestie."  "Umm," Stacy started before being interrupted by her mother. "I hope you don't mind, but you are not going with Stacy. Call me lazy, but it is a lot easier to get you approved to join me than your best friend." "I don't mind, Auntie, but I would like to know which age?" the regressed girl said while looking at her clothes. It appeared she was trying to decide what age she was dressed as. "Oh, I teach Kindergarten. I thought you knew." "I don't think it came up before, but that isn't what I was asking. Am I seven or nineteen today?" Auntie looked like she just remembered something and said, "I am so used to seeing you as a seven-year-old. I tend to forget that the other age exists. I told the school you were seven.” Katie just nodded and started another discussion with her best friend. ~o~O~o~ “Class, this is my niece Katie, and she is going to be joining our class today. Katie, please tell the class about you.” Katie, who was fighting her shyness, nervously told the class how she was seven and visiting for the holidays from Clearwater down the road. The young girl then found herself being led to a table to join some actual young girls.  “Katie, this is Tracy, Kelly, and Abby,” Auntie said, introducing them before handing out some craft materials to the class. “Girls, you should find a white piece of paper and a ribbon in front of you. Boys, you should find an envelope with some pre-cut pieces of paper.  All of you should find a few glue sticks on your table, and for the tables with girls, a hole punch.” She continued with, “Ok, boys,“ before describing how to assemble the boys' pilgrim hat.  “Very good boys,” she said, looking around. “Girls, it's your turn to shine. Take the white paper and fold the long side over an inch.  Bend it into a U-shape like this,” the teacher said while demonstrating on the one she was making.   “Perfect class. Now, overlap the opposite side of your original fold.  Not so much, Emily. You want it to fit your head.  Use a glue stick to glue those two bits together.  I will come to help you fold the top so it is smooth.”  After a bit, she continued by showing how the ribbon was done to make an under-chin strap. After the class had the proper hat on, she proceeded to teach the class about the first pilgrims and the first Thanksgiving. Katie thought it was very informative to learn about the foods that might have been at the first feast and how different it was from what might be on her table tomorrow.  She was surprised to learn that they knew how many people attended the feast.  She also learned ... or relearned … when Thanksgiving became a holiday. Once the Thanksgiving lesson was over, the regressed girl followed the class to the gym for PE after following directions and removing her hat.   As they were being escorted to the gymnasium, Mrs. Bullard asked Katie if she had taken her pill that morning, which was answered with a nod. After a brief introduction, the teacher left them with the P.E. teacher, Mr. Edison. "Today, boys and girls, we will start with playing 'OK, ready.' Katie, just follow along. You will soon get the hang of it." Since the other boys and girls were lining up against one of the walls, the regressed girl joined them. Mr. Edison tooted a whistle and said, "OK, ready," and pointed at the opposite wall. Next thing she knew, everyone was running for the wall that was pointed to. They had almost got to the wall when the whistle went again. She heard, "OK, ready," and saw the teacher point at the wall they had just come from. The other boys and girls then started running towards the pointed wall. Katie discovered that you couldn't assume the other wall when Mr. Edison pointed to the same wall they were running towards. This continued in a similar fashion for fifteen to twenty minutes before they were allowed to reach the wall. Because of all the switchbacks, Katie was one of the last to arrive. She next found herself starting one of two games of four squares.  Her fellow players in her game were her three table mates.  As she walked back to the classroom with her new classmates after Mrs. Bullard returned, she thought she was ready for a nap. Back in the classroom, with their new hats on, the regressed girl got handed a book.  "Katie, could you read that book to the class? It is third-grade level so some words might be a challenge for you. I will help you with it if you find a word you don't know." The regressed girl saw the book was called 'The First Thanksgiving.' She started to read it out loud, trying to sound like an actual second-grader. She asked for Mrs. Bullard’s help with words that looked like they would be difficult for a seven-year-old. After she was about half done, she was thanked, and the teacher offered it to another student to finish up.  They had more difficulty than Katie because of its grade level.  Once it was totally done, the teacher told the class it was playtime. Abby and Kelly each grabbed the first grader’s hand and pulled her toward the play area. The first stop was the dress-up area, where Katie eventually ended up with a baby bonnet on top of her pilgrims' bonnet. Then, the four girls played a game of trouble. Meanwhile, Sara Bullard was watching her class and how her newest but temporary student was interacting with them. She thought to herself that if someone had told her that the girl was actually a college student, she would have said to stop pulling her leg. Looking at the time, Mrs. Bullard said, “Class, please clean up and sit in your chair.” As her newest student was heading to her chair, she continued with, “Katie, I know you look cute with the baby bonnet, but can you return it to the dress-up box for another day.” That was rewarded with a bright red seven-year-old and chuckles from a table of boys. “Class, before we go and enjoy our long weekend, let each of us say what we are thankful for this year. I will start by saying that I am thankful for my husband, daughter, her best friend, and my parents.” Katie listened to the class while deciding what to say. When it was her time, she said, “I am thankful to my Daddie, grandparents, and best friend.” Once she was done, the class was released to get their coats and hats and head home for the weekend.  When it was just the two of them, Katie struggled to untie her bonnet and heard, “No, young lady, leave that on to show your Daddie.”  She just nodded as she followed Auntie out of the room. “Sara, taking students home now?” “No, this is my niece. She joined my class today. She makes an excellent Kindergarten for a second grader. Katie say hi to Mrs. Sandberg. She teaches second grade.” Katie, who was fighting her shyness big time,  just gave a shy wave with a meekful “Hello.” Auntie could have said she was a college student and the teacher would have got the same results. The two teachers continued talking, basically ignoring that the seven-year-old was there. It seemed to her the subjects ranged from holiday plans, herself, Stacy, and their individual classes. ~o~O~o~ While Katie was at School, Adam kept Katie’s phone on and nearby in case some of the guests called or texted that phone. Hearing a text ding on the phone, he cleaned his hands off with a nearby towel before reading the message.  It was some guy he didn’t know named Mark Cooper, asking Kathleen if she was available Saturday afternoon to help set up for the Christmas event. Looking at the previous messages, he realized this must be someone at the Zoo. ~o~O~o~ As Katie walked into the house after school, still wearing her bonnet, she was greeted by her Daddie. "Nice bonnet, Buttercup. Did you have an enjoyable time at school?" "Yes, Daddie, except for P.E., that left me ready for a nap. It sure smells nice in here. … Oh, can you untie my bonnet? Auntie refused to help me untie it." "That would be the pies cooking in the oven. As for the bonnet, I think you will look cute like that when our company comes." The regressed girl just pouted and went to put her coat and shoes in the mudroom. When she came back into the kitchen, she was handed her phone. She looked at her Daddie quizzically. "Some guy named Mark Cooper texted you while you were gone." ~o~O~o~ Mark Cooper was roughhousing with one of his sons when he heard his phone dinged.  Looking at it, he saw it was a message from his favorite volunteer that he treated her like a young daughter. Not that he would ever tell her that, or anyone else for that matter. "Mr. Cooper: I am not home. I am spending the holidays in Riverview. I don't have my car with me right now, either. … " His face dropped when he realized she was an hour away and didn't have transportation to be able to help set up this weekend.  "... That being said, nothing is planned for Saturday afternoon. In order to come, I will have to bring a driver with me to help. Assuming that is ok, plan on me being there at one." Oh, he thought that was much better. I am getting two workers for the price of one. After texting his approval, he went back to roughhousing. ~o~O~o~ Ding dong went the doorbell.  “Katie, can you get that? We are busy right now,” Daddie yelled towards where she was reading her highlights. Opening the front door, she was surprised to see her mother?! … and … her niece?!?!?! standing there. “Mother and Heidi, how are you? Are you two by yourself?” “I believe it is currently your Grandma, young lady. Can you show your cousin the bathroom? She really needs to go.”  Blushing, the regressed girl just nodded and directed her four-year-old niece, scratch that cousin, towards the bathroom. As they went towards it, Heidi mentioned, “I like your bonnet. Can you make me one?” “I made it at school, but I can try to make one later, Heidi. I am not sure the supplies are here, though.” The regressed girl was helping the younger girl out of her jacket while this discussion was happening. After Heidi was done, the two young girls went towards the porch, where Katie saw her Uncle?, Grandpa? and Daddie walking up the path with bags from two different cars parked diagonally in the driveway.  Daddie obviously wasn’t too busy to help them. He just wanted her to be the first to greet them. Katie noticed that her aunt and uncle apparently had flown over from Wisconsin because that was not a car she recognized. They must've met up somewhere and caravaned to Daddie’s house. Her one-year-old cousin was walking slowly up the path next to her aunt. Once they were all inside the warm house, Daddie gave instructions about where everyone was sleeping, “Katie, if you be kind, show your grandparents to the guest room that Ally and Tiff normally sleep in. Heidi will be sleeping with Katie and the rest of her cousins. Tiffany is also in that room, so they will have some supervision.” As the seven-year-old was directing her grandparents upstairs with Heidi following along, she heard, “Sorry, Jim and Brianna, I have run out of guest rooms. You will be sleeping on the pull-out in this room, along with your infant daughter.” “Aunty Kathleen, your room is cute,” came a young voice when Katie opened the door to her bedroom.  Katie, not sure if she should handle the Aunty part and if she would get in trouble for it, just nodded.  She was saved by her grandma coming out of the guest room and pointing out the name above the bed. Once everyone was settled in, Katie went looking around the house for bonnet-making supplies.  She could find a paper, but Daddie apparently didn’t stock a hole punch. She also thought the glue she found would probably be too messy. She also thought Daddie might not enjoy her cutting a hair ribbon smaller. Ignoring the guys watching sports, except for the required eye roll, she headed to the gathered adults in the kitchen.  “Where is Heidi, and can I take her next door?” “She is watching television in the den, and why Buttercup?” “She asked for a bonnet like mine. We don’t have the supplies nor the knowledge, but I know who might have both.” “Your Auntie Sara?” Nodding, she was granted permission, so she continued to Den to collect her cousin … she felt it so different to think of Heidi like that.  Coming out of the mud room, Tiffany watched them as they walked through the snow towards the next door. “Katie, did you miss me already? Who is this?” “Stacy, this is my cousin Heidi, and actually, this time, we are here to see Auntie.” Rejected, Stacy let them in the house and led her best friend towards the kitchen. “Auntie, Heidi would like a bonnet like mine. I figured you would be better equipped to do that.” Leading all three girls towards her craft area, she helped Heidi and the other two girls make another bonnet. Katie wasn’t sure why she was making another one, but she was never the type to argue. ~o~O~o~ About an hour later, Katie looked up from where she was coloring with Heidi to the sound of a car horn.  Daddie came into the room and pointed out, “That would be your other grandparents, Buttercup.” Katie followed her Daddie out on the porch, where she watched him greet them from the porch. “Adam, she is an adorable little girl,'' the older lady told her son. The statement of her apparent grandma caused the shy little girl to turn bright red. “I am your Grandma Olsen. I have heard all about you, but you have been hiding from me. What are you … Oh, here comes your Aunt Alexa and her family. As I was saying before, I was distracted, what are you doing here in your socks and no coat?” She asked while slapping the naughty girl on her padded bottom. Jumping from the surprise, the regressed girl pleaded, “I was curious and wanted to meet my grandparents.” She went into her new Grannie’s open arms and enjoyed the hug. “Grannie Olsen, Grannie Olsen,” said an excited young boy running up the walk. Following behind him about ten steps was a younger girl. Grandma said, “How is my favorite grandson? … And my youngest granddaughter?” “Grannie, I am your only grandson, but I am great.” and “Good Grannie, but I am also your only granddaughter.” were her replies. Mike had just noticed Katie, “Are you Mrs. Bullard's niece who came to her class today?” Blushing, the regressed girl admitted, “Guilty as charged.” “Mike and Tina, this is your naughty cousin, Katie. She is the reason I called you youngest Tina, too,” Grandma said as she directed all three children in the house. “Naughty, Grannie?”  Grannie replied, “She was outside without her shoes and a jacket, Tina.” ~o~O~o~ “OK, Everyone, as you can see, we have a full house. Alexa and Brian, you are in the last guest room. Mom and Dad, you are in my room.” “Nonsense, you sleep in your room. We will sleep on the pull-out.” “Not possible. The pull-out is already taken, Mom.” That was rewarded with a one-word answer of oh before asking, “Where will you sleep?” “I will sleep on the futon in the den.” ~o~O~o~ “Katie, can you come in here,” the regressed girl heard back in the den, where she was watching a movie with the rest of the children. Coming back into the kitchen, she found all the adults looking at her. Very nervously, she asked if she had done something wrong, which was answered by another hug from Grandma Olsen. “No, Buttercup, you have been an angel for once. I just wanted you to witness what I have to say,” Daddie replied. Her raspberry in response was rewarded with a slap on her bottom, which sounded like a squish and caused her to jump. Daddie continued after a smirk, “I would like you all to treat Katie Anne like a seven-year-old, But I will not force you if you do not want to do it.”  Brianna mumbled under her breath, “It suits her,” which caused the seven-year-old to blush. Ignoring Katie’s biological sister and looking at the rest of the nods, Daddie went on with, “As for her cousins or niece, they can treat her however they want to.” After Daddie’s piece was spoken, everyone went back to what they were doing before. The young girl tried to go back to her movie, but her Grannie wouldn’t release her. “Young girl, you and I are going to deal with that wet bottom. And we will have a discussion about the fact you let it get that wet,” Grannie told her. She was led back to where the other kids were, and the older lady grabbed Tina and headed upstairs to the bedroom. After preparing a bubble bath, Grandma started to strip her youngest granddaughter. She noticed that her oldest was trying to be helpful and strip herself. "Katie, let me do that, please," she said before returning to Tina. Once the younger one was naked, she was helped into the tub.  Katie soon found herself being stripped and then helped into the tub.   "You two play nicely and try to keep the water in the tub. I will be back later to wash you both up." ~o~O~o~ Grannie Olsen was in Katie's room getting some pajamas for both the girls when her son walked in. "Mother, have you seen Katie Anne? I can't find her anywhere." "I put her and Tina in the tub. Her bottom was soaked, and if not leaking, close to leaking." "Pizza will be here in forty-five minutes, Mom." "Tina should be down by then. I will try to keep Katie's spanking and discussion quick so she can be down in time." "Spanking?!? I am not supposed to spank her, and besides, what did she do to earn one?" "One, that contract only controls you. Two, the retired Nurse in me can't ignore the bad diaper rash on her bottom.  It isn't healthy for her to continue in this way.  I just haven't decided if I am going to be dealing with the seven-year-old or the nineteen-year-old." Adam knew better than to argue with his Mother because she would have no problem punishing him at twenty-five, too. "Very well, Mother, please don't kill her." "I will do nothing of the sort." With her peace said, she put the pajamas on the changing table before stepping back into the bathroom. ~o~O~o~ Katie sat wrapped in a towel on her bed while she watched her new Grandma diaper and dressed her new cousin Tina for bed.  When Grannie was done, she sat Tina on the ground and then led her out of the room with instructions to go back downstairs.  The regressed girl found herself being picked up and strapped to the changing table. “Now, young naughty lady, you and I are going to have a little discussion about your wet diapers.” “Umm, yes, Grannie…” Katie said meekly, not sure what to say. Grannie continues with, “It is not healthy for you to ignore your wet diapers, just look at that diaper rash on your bottom.  Your butt must hurt, but if it doesn’t already hurt, it will when we are done giving you your spanking.” A very quiet eep came from the suddenly scared, regressed girl. She decided it probably was safer not to argue against the spankings. She listened quietly while her grannie lectured her.  When the lecture was done, Grannie had her hold her legs in such a way that her bum was exposed.  Next thing the young girl knew, ten quick but sharp spankings were doled on her exposed naked bottom.   “Keep holding those legs, Sweetheart, please,” Grannie told her while kissing her on the forehead.  Katie watched as Grannie Olsen put diaper rash ointment on her red bottom.  Once a diaper was under her bottom, Katie was allowed to release her legs.   Once dressed in her princess-footed pajamas, Katie found herself being cuddled.  Grandma said while they were cuddling, “Sorry, my angel, that I had to punish you, but you are old enough to inform someone when your diaper is wet.  You don’t need to tell us when it is just damp, but when it is wet, you need to tell someone.”   Looking at the clock, Grannie said, “Let's go downstairs. The pizza should be here soon.” She led her granddaughter, who had a slight limp, out of the room.  ~o~O~o~ “Pizza is ready,” Tiffany said into the den, where the children were watching another movie. Most of the children ran towards the kitchen, but her little sister seemed to walk slower than usual. “You ok, little sister?” “My bottom is sore from the spanking I got earlier for being naughty.” “Spanking? Naughty? What did you do, and who spanked you?” “I kind of ignored my diapers for too long and got a diaper rash. Grandma Olsen spanked me because of it since I am old enough to tell someone to change me.” ~o~O~o~ As the large extended family was gathered eating the pizza, Grannie Olsen addressed the adults of the group loud enough so everyone gathered could hear.  “Can anyone who changes Katie’s diaper for the next week make sure you cover her bottom with diaper rash ointment? Hopefully, her bad rash will heal after a week, and she doesn’t have to see her doctor for medicated ointment.”  Katie’s face turned bright red to match the red on her bottom with embarrassment.   

Seems like somebody has an impending trip over the knee, and then I would assume a fresh diaper just to be safe

Would this qualify as a Depend Fake?