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Birch House Chapter 7 --- Ann --- “Well, no.” Mom replied. “That wouldn’t be very modest now would it Molly Ann Smith?” “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get so upset. It’s only at night and you have to deal with it twenty-four seven... Robin Smith.” I sighed feeling like a butt and purposefully flipping the full name drop back at her. “Oh Molls. You have to stop this wallowing.” She said sitting next to me crinkling loudly. I can’t believe I didn’t hear that before. It’s not like the skirt did that much to muffle it. It’s as lame as Superman and his glasses. I scolded myself. Huh… I don’t think I know Mom’s middle name…? “Pretty aren’t they?” Mom asked poking at her crotch. “Very… I mean, for a diaper.” I blushed. “Pfft! That’s it! I’m not covering these up unless Trent’s home. I’ve got to desensitize you to them. Feels better this way anyway. It’s not like Daddy lets me wear pants around the house.” She laughed. “You mean you just run around in wet diapers all the time at home?!?” I asked feeling like I had uncovered some sort of scandal. I had a quick imaginary flash of myself with a press pass. “Daddy has been changing me since you were a little thing Doodlebug. I sort of stumbled into diapers a long time ago as a solution of sorts to a problem. If it weren’t for Daddy, I’d have had some expensive surgery or been on some drug or other for years. Those side effects are scary… anal leakage!” Mom said looking off blankly at the bed area shuddering. “Analyst here… the cost of diapers over a couple decades far outstrips the surgery cost. Well anyway, running around diapered and showing it will definitely force me to confront my situation.” I admitted. “What about Becca?” “Oh pish! Becca caught me diapered way more than you did. That one is very observant and maybe a splash of sneaky!” We laughed together because… yeah Becca was definitely sneaky. “There was never a point in hiding stuff from her. She smelled me out this morning. I couldn’t dodge her anymore.” I told mom. “Smelled you? You didn’t mess did you!” Mom gasped. “Yep… pooped all over myself. Seriously, no, but she did smell me even after a shower.” I told her the story suddenly bothered by my conversation with Becca, but unsure of why. “Well, I guess I’m a little nose-blind by now. I can’t smell you Molly. Even with all the hugging and crying!” She told me tickling into my sides a little. Mom got up, diapered booty on display, and walked over to my dresser with the package of diapers. She set about rearranging my underwear drawer to hold them. “No sense in leaving these lying about.” Mom chuckled. I pulled my feet up and dropped my skirt over my knees. I rested my head against my knees and got lost in thought. “Mom?” I eventually asked. “Hmm?” She responded without stopping progress on her task. “Is that why I always had to be in my room by eight?” “Part of it. Wearing just the diaper is much more comfortable for me. They can be a bit sweaty sometimes. Most of it was quiet time with Daddy. It’s not easy being a young attractive married couple with a kid sabotaging all your romantic efforts!” She smiled at me nodding and turned back to her task. “Yeah, I’m glad for you two. Everything in the romantic department still…” I floundered for words whirling my arms around. I was very proud that Mom and Daddy loved each other and had no fear of showing it with small touches and kisses. They taught me that tasteful PDA was totally appropriate. “Daddy would be devastated if it weren’t Molls.” Mom laughed. “Your unconventional underwear doesn’t put a kink in his plans?” I asked thoughtfully. “Well, it does put a kink in our love life, but probably not the way you think.” Mom laughed out loud hard. “BAH! I don’t wanna know!” I yelled hopping up and running to my breakroom for a snack sticking my fingers in my ears. La La La La “THAT’S WHY YOU REALLY WENT TO BED AT EIGHT!” Mom’s words and laughter chased me down the hall. I was grazing on a snack sized bag of Cheetos when Mom came into the room with me. She smiled and milled around the bedroom turned part kitchen and part dining room. She opened my refrigerator and pulled out some apple juice. “Cups are to the right on the top.” I told her. “Little help?” Mom asked looking at the cabinet standing there holding the juice. “Oh yeah. Pigmy Mom. I forget.” I chuckled and got her a glass. “Giraffe daughter!” Mom laughed taking a cup. I poured myself some juice and sat down with her at the little table. Mom wiggled every now and then lighting up the room with tiny diaper sounds. There was no getting around what she was wearing around her waist. They reminded me they were present everytime I caught a glimpse of Mom or when she moved and made themselves known. “Al, over at White Thorn’s, came in the other day on your recommendation.” Mom mentioned casually. She’d clearly switched to business talk. Mom adores talking shop with me since Daddy won’t have it. He doesn’t care about numbers and we don’t care about lumber, so it was a mutual agreement! “They’re my biggest client right now. I helped them invest in a new inventory management system that’s integrated with their supplier. The system tracks onhand supplies with a scanner. We negotiated three deliveries a week with their vendor and now Al floats less stock.” I beamed at mom proud of the accomplishment, but trying to keep it to the bullet points. “Oh he’s thrilled with your work Doodlebug. We have all his accounting now. He told me it was OK to talk to you about his accounts. Your advice and guidance increased his profit while reducing his risk and overhead. It was... impressive.” She told me her face flushing with pride. “I mentioned your company. I told him you’ll have quite a bit of experience with the lean management style and it’s financial impacts. His accountant was a friend from college. Frankly, they’d outgrown him.” I told her sadly thinking of the portly little bald guy. “Believe it or not, Al insisted we keep him in the loop. We sub him out for some of the face to face work so we don’t have to travel down all the time. I think Flemming, Al’s old accountant, will probably bring us some other business too. This town is growing in the industrial sector.” She nodded again. I loved the chance to talk about my business with Mom. I’d learned a lot from listening in on her calls over the years. I had a knack for efficiency and that will always sell. Every owner loves to do more with less! Admittedly, I was showing off a little for her though. “Al has a few friends that are itching for some time with me, but I have a couple smaller contracts I need to finish before I start another large project. You know how I hate to travel.” I reminded her but was happy to let her know my business was still thriving. “We are so proud of you, Daddy and I. I wish your Grams had been around to see you graduate college. She’d be so proud of you. Speaking of Grams, I… uh… I don’t like the distance between us dear.” She told me. “I’m sort of locked in now. I sort of own a home!” I laughed. “I don’t mean the physical distance Doodlebug.” Mom said a sadness in her voice. “I don’t mean to be distant.” I confessed. “You haven’t needed anything from me, except with your diapers, since you were eleven. So independent and self-reliant.” She shook her head. “Looks like they may always be a thing for me. Thank you for coming. Thank you for helping. Thank you for doing what I couldn’t.” I told her my eyes tearing up again talking about the wettings. “Oh Molls. Mommy will always be here for you.” She stood up and crinkled over to me pulling me into a hug. I was a little taller than her still sitting down. “You’re so short.” I laughed and patted her butt. “Uh… Mom. You should probably get a change.” I told her. “Oh Shit! I hadn’t… I… well, Daddy usually keeps an eye on that. I’m sorry honey. I don’t think much about them when I’m not at work.” She told me blushing furiously. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s just me Mom. How do you take care of it at work or out and about?” I asked suddenly curious. “If Daddy’s with me he… uh… he checks me. If I’m by myself out of the house, I can remember easier. We’re at home, well your home, so I just... didn’t think about it.” She laughed nervously. “Well, I don’t mind helping you keep an eye out, but help me cause I’m not used to it, like Daddy I guess.” I giggled. “I’m not embarrassed as much as I’m worried about embarrassing you. I gave up dry panties a very long time ago.” “Hey, Rebecca have anything to fix for dinner? I bet you never really cook for her.” Mom laughed. “You’re no chef either Mom.” I laughed thinking of all the pizza I ate growing up. “Well, Grams finally taught me while you were off at college.” “You any good?” I asked. “We eat home cooked meals more than we eat out. Just not by much.” She told me standing. “Let me go change. Then we’ll head downstairs.” I told her. “I’m just so proud of you Molls. So smart and successful at such a young age.” Mom said shaking her head. By six, we’d made Grams’ spaghetti and tossed a quick salad. I knew I’d have to restock Beck’s fridge, but it had been fun to cook for her for a change. Mom spent the entire time with her diaper fully visible. Her very cute pink booty shined making all kinds of racket. By the time Becca was due home, I’d begun tuning out the noise. Progress I suppose... The door rattled and Mom jumped up from the downstairs couch and sprinted for the door. She was excited to see my bestie. She yanked the door open before Becca could, leaving her keys still dangling in the door. “Oh Rebecca, your hair is so neat! I love it. Did you get another ear piercing? Holy Shit your nose! God don’t those hurt! I can’t believe how old you look. Such a beautiful young lady. Hey can you smell dinner? We made food! I even got Molls to help! She said you could smell her. What do I smell like?” Mom gushed like an over excited toddler greeting a parent just home from work. She literally bounced up and down firing questions faster than Becca could answer while crinkling all over the place. Ok. That could give a girl a cavity it’s so sweet! Serves her right! I giggled watching the conversation tables flip on Becca. “Oh My God! Robin! I mean Mrs. Smith!” Becca squealed and hugged her standing up pulling her off the ground. Becca was vibrating with happiness her ass wagging she was so excited. “You’re so cute!” She channeled her Despicable Me, ‘It’s so fluffy’ voice. “I’m so glad to see you.” Mom said from Becca’s embrace. “That diaper looks so fucking adorable on you! Bet you would still be in them even if your medical stuff cleared up! I just love it. So fucking cute.” Becca fed off Mom’s energy. “Alright you two, dinner’s getting cold!” I reminded them before one of their heads exploded in excitement. “Awe, it’ll keep a bit! I haven’t seen your mom since the wedding!” Becca laughed sitting Mom down on the ground. “Far to long girls. With all Trent’s traveling, I expect you both at the house more often. Just… call first. My diaper is one thing, Daddy in his underwear is a whole other ball game!” Mom laughed. “Speaking of! Run around a bit. You look adorable. I wanna see!” Becca insisted clapping her hands. “Run to the kitchen Mom. You two are like herding wet cats.” I laughed. “OK.” Mom said grinning widely and putting her hands down on her sides before sprinting off sounding every bit the toddler she was dressed as. “Your mom’s the best.” Becca said coming up next to me. Becca pulled me into a hug burying her face in my cleavage like she had this morning. I could feel a light kiss on the vee on my chest and hear a dramatic inhale. She shook just a bit and visibly relaxed into me. I hugged her tighter loving that closeness. “Mom seems extra nutty today.” I laughed. “You smell extra amazing today.” She laughed. “Do I still smell like pee?” I asked cautiously. “You smell like you. Wonderful with a side of meat and tomatoes.” Becca said immediately. “I smell the red sauce and meat and… Oh, and fresh garlic!!! OMG you used my farmers market tomatoes in a... salad… caesar salad.” “Amazing!” I shook my head. “Dinner is served madams.” I laughed. We ate in companionable silence. Mom felt more like another friend at the table than the mother figure. With her lack of height and the diapers, she seemed like the youngest one of us too. Sure, our faces were more youthful, but she’d abandoned the motherly vibes the moment Becca had arrived. Becca almost always had a positive impact on Mom’s attitude. They sort of fed off each other like a perpetual youth machine. “So, it’s settled! Cuddles and movies tonight right?” Mom asked us. “Of course. Upstairs though… Annie cleans up that way.” Becca giggled. “I’d clean up down here too.” I laughed. “Still sounds weird. Nearly a decade you’ve insisted people call you by your middle name and it still sounds weird to my ears Doodlebug.” She admitted. “Oh fuck! I haven’t heard that in years! Doodlebug…” Becca poked me in the side laughing. “Watch it. I’m willing to help with dinner dishes unless you keep on.” I poked her back. Mom just laughed, “You big girls just leave the dishes to Mommy and run upstairs to setup Movie Night!” Becca saluted my tiny parent and jumped up to leave before someone changed her mind for her. Becca hates doing dishes. She patted Mom on the butt and told her to get changed before she joined us cause she was getting soggy. Mom just nodded turning an amusing shade of pink and trundled off to the kitchen with a large armload of dishes. “Holy Frack Annie! She can’t get much fucking cuter. I know you hate ‘em, but she looks great in those diapers. She doesn’t look all that much older than you do now.” Becca laughed. “It’s her idea to desensitize me to them. She’s making me wear them at night.” I told her defeated. “She can’t make you do shit! You’re a grown ass woman! Piss your bed if ya want to, or wear diapers if ya want. Don’t blame your Mom! That’s not fair. I’ll take you to the doctor if you think you need one.” Becca said sobering toward the end. “I… I know. I called her and asked. I...” I took a deep breath, “I had to buy a new mattress.” “I know. I changed your sheets remember?” Becca reminded me. “It was just this morning. I didn’t forget. How’d you know it was a new bed?” I asked. “I could just tell.” Becca said quickly her cheeks warming in color. “I hate this, but Mom’s doing a good job of beating back the dread.” I admitted. “Do you think you should go ahead and put one on? Then you could hang out with us and I’ll be the odd bitch out, the only one not in a cutie ass diaper.” She laughed. “I don’t want to, but it’s probably a good idea. If I doze during the movie… Hey!” I said perking up, “you could wear one too!” I laughed totally kidding. Becca froze standing there in my bedroom. She seemed to be lost in a sudden thought. I didn’t want to hear her refuse while looking at her. Somehow, I knew I would feel rejected. She had no reason to wear a diaper with us. She was the only one with a fully functioning bladder after all! --- Becca --- Could I wear a diaper for Ann? Should I? I mean, if I did it would certainly help get her used to them. Yeah, I’d do about anything for her. Hell, I’d just promised myself to that very thing this morning. Hell ya, I’ll sit around in a diaper to make Annie feel better. I’d do just about any fucking thing to make this better for her. “What the hell?” I said shrugging my shoulders, “Where are they?” “Uh… whattttt?” Ann stuttered. “Our diapers, where are they?” I asked again. I smiled at the confused look on Ann’s face. This is already fun! I laughed. “Look, I was the one who fucking said you should change early. I don’t want to be the only chick getting up to run to the bathroom.” I laughed not thinking about what I was saying. “You know, I have these gorgeous hips Annie. If I put one of these diapers on, I won’t be able to take it off by sliding it down. I’m sure I’ll end up pissing one at some point.” I told her while she looked down at her feet too nervous to look up at me. “If I really have to get up and go to the bathroom and I can’t bring myself to piss the diaper, I’ll just take it off and put my undies back on. I’ll make sure and pee before I put it on, that’ll help too. Then I won’t be the only chick here without a diaper.” I laughed glad I’d left myself some wiggle room in case I backed out of wetting the diaper. “Just think, you can drink all you want. You’re covered, literally. Wet the bed… Who cares? That’s what they’re for! No way your overflowing these fluffy assed things!” I joked hefting the diaper in my hand. “I guess.” Ann said not convinced at all. “Eh, Your call babe. I’m putting one one so I can hang with Robin then!” I pushed. I knew this was tough for her. She hated the diapers, at least she had as an older teen. I can’t blame her. Fucking being a teenage girl was hard enough without dealing with her tiny ass bladder. The doctors had told her parents she’d have a very hard time successfully leaving the diapers behind without another form of treatment. I remember her freshman year of homeschool when she got the pull-ups. We went to the mall to celebrate and buy her some pants. Ann, Molly at the time, had been stuck in skirts and dresses her entire life. She went to the bathroom like forty times and still had to change once while we were there, but it was so liberating for her. It brought tears to my eyes remembering that day, but I’ll never forget the next summer when we went to the pool for the first time and she got to wear a swimsuit in public. It was amazing. She was terrified and thrilled at the same time. It had likely been the scariest moment in her life. In fact, I bet she had a hard time not telling everyone it was her first time out without a diaper… well, maybe not that hard, but she smiled at me a billion times. Huh… a lot of my favorite memories are with Ann. I wasn’t sure I could wet a diaper on purpose, but if I could get Ann to do it, it would be worth it. I’m wasn’t as squeamish as she was plus, her mom would be sitting there soaked in no time. I peed and then lay down on Ann’s bed while she followed up my bathroom performance. I didn’t care if she saw me naked, it’d happened a million times. I just wasn’t, you know… advertising. “Need some help with that?” Robin asked coming in Ann’s room catching me half wrapped. “I figured it would be good for Ann to push this a bit. Like tearing off a bandaid. Plus, I want her to know I don’t give a fuck what she wears.” I rushed to tell her explaining my halfway diapered ass. “I know dear. You didn’t even react to mine.” She nodded sagely and reseated my tapes adjusting the diaper I was wearing. “Shit that feels a lot better.” I told her sort of enjoying the crinkle, the naughtiness of it. “Well, you just do what feels right. I’ve loved you as a daughter since we moved in next door.” She told me. “I usually do.” I belly laughed. “What’s so funny?” Ann asked joining us. “Oh Rebecca here was just admitting to not thinking and acting first most the time.” Robin twisted the truth-knife in my gut, a Mom throwing around razor sharp words. “Well, she does usually do whatever she wants and figures the rest out later… that, or I do.” Ann laughed. I didn’t even care that the fun seemed to be at my expense. I only cared that the gorgeous woman was smiling with her hands held and arms twisted demurely. Ann started to ask us to leave the room and then I volunteered to step into the guest room while she changed. “Oh that’s not necessary.” Robin offered swiftly. “Let me help you with that while Rebecca gets us some of that pie from your refrigerator.” I felt a little strange about Robin helping Ann, so I just left. Not sure why it bothered me, but it did. I couldn’t tell if Robin was excited to diaper her adult daughter or was keeping her from the guest room or maybe she just didn’t want to leave Ann alone for this. I couldn’t read Robin’s mind so I did the next best thing. I checked the guest room sneakily. It’s locked? Why the hell would it be locked? How will she get back in? Oh, it’s one of those you can push a pin in and open it. Why locked though? I’m not sure what possessed me, but I dropped to the floor and sniffed for all I was worth at the crack under the door. I caught a strong whiff of baby powder, probably from her just changing. I could smell her hair products and body wash. I thought I could smell some toothpaste thinking she may have busted it in travel. Oddly, I could smell old rubber. Nothing seemed too out of place, so I went to Ann’s break room and took my time grabbing the paper plates, silverware, and the pie from the fridge. I wasn’t going to serve anyone, but I didn’t want to make any more trips. I had been so caught up in Robin’s little puzzle, I hadn’t thought about the diaper around my waste until I was walking back to Ann’s bedroom. God, I’ve wanted to try one of these for years. Sort of hot, but feels bulky and good. I love the poof of air when I sit down too. I knocked before being called back inside. There we all stood. Three adult women clad in varying tops and diapers, Ann’s mom in a really pink foo-foo one at that. I couldn’t help but laugh. My laugh set Robin off, and eventually Ann’s thin hands drifted to her face covering her own laughter. “What movie are we watching?” Robin eventually asked.

No work today! I woke up in a soaking wet Fabine (still in it too cuz daddy said he'll change me when he wakes up), so I'm on the play blanket downstairs watching Doc McStuffins until then. Then we'll probably go for lunch at some point and I'm meeting up with littles friends tonight for dinner. I'll be playing a ton of Fate/Grand Order on my phone between then. I love days off without responsibilities or errands

Chapter 4 It is an interesting but often overlooked bit of trivia that the most adept of magicians throughout history are either extremely young or extremely elderly. Merlin, the most famous Wizard known to mankind (that wouldn’t be considered blasphemous in labeling his mystical prowess as “magic” as opposed to “divine miracles”) was born an old man and was said to age backwards, making him BOTH very old and young at the same time. History and fiction is filled with such examples of arcane practitioners being either notably old and frail or fantastically young and inexperienced. To the less talented, less aware among us it might be thought that magic is so difficult that it either requires years of experience and wisdom, or else can only be wielded by child prodigies. This conclusion is patently false. The idea that magic is something that requires either tremendous talent or immense practice couldn’t be further from the truth. All that real magic needs to turn human desire and fantasy into hard, cold reality is strong enough belief. It’s really just a matter of a bumblebee in flight; just ignore what the rest of the world says about you and do as you wish. And therein lies the rub: Even before the twin tyrannies of science and cynicism, people of a certain age eventually learned that the world doesn’t bend to their whims just because they wanted it to, and in learning so, robbed themselves of magic. Ergo, the people most capable of casting magic are those who are too naïve to know that they can’t, or too senile to remember. - An excerpt from “Do You Believe in Magic?” by Cornelius Crowley. Susan Susan waddled into the “Big Little Daycare”, holding her mother’s hand as tightly as any small child on the first day of school, with Flopsy clutched to her chest. The world had gone mad yesterday, with everyone she could remotely consider part of her peer group now being reduced to a particularly large toddler complete with all the trappings: bottles, highchairs, strollers, cribs, playpens, rattles, and yes, diapers. Susan had already endured one day of such indignities, and since everyone on planet Earth couldn’t remember a time when she and her peers weren’t expected to behave like someone under the age of two, there was no end in sight. In the face of this unrelenting madness, it could be forgiven if she went a little crazy herself; or at least fell back on long abandoned habits. “Susie,” her mother said, “why are you holding onto my hand so tightly? You’re just going to daycare. You’ve come here ever since you were eight.” The former future accountant’s hand did not loosen its grip, though the hairs on the back of her still neck bristled at being called “Susie”. By God, she hated that name. “I know,” she lied, “I’m just nervous, that’s all.” “About what?” Mom asked. “Is something different today? I don’t remember any special activities being mentioned in the bulletin.” As far as everyone but Susan was concerned, today was par for the course, but to Susan it was like being on another world. Her room, long since abandoned since she’d gone to college had, of course, been a scaled up nursery. Bath time had been…interesting…but being naked and scrubbed down by her own mother was nothing compared to having her ass wiped in public. The latter had been red hot humiliation. The former, mentally, could be written off as something that might happen in a hospital. Going to sleep in a crib wearing purple footed pajamas had been deceptively easy. Waking up wet the next morning had even easier. Getting dressed- correction, BEING dressed- for the day came too fast for Susan’s groggy brain to fully appreciate. As soon as the shoes were on her feet, Mom had shuffled her outside, strapped her into a ridiculously big carseat, shoved another bottle of big baby formula into her mouth, and driven off into the pre-dawn morning. Susan hadn’t even had time to process that she wasn’t being taken back to Ma’s Diner and Pie Shop; she was expecting to have another boring day of quiet contemplation stuck in a playpen. Now, as other so-called forever babies trickled into the building with their parents, their pants all bulging with bulky diapers (if they were wearing pants at all), the enormity of Susan’s predicament had fully dawned on her. What was she going to do? In front of the rather large building- just yesterday Susan remembered this place being an abandoned bingo hall- was a large screen T.V. where several other forever babies (other forever babies) laid on the floor watching the opening previews; evidently, whatever DVD had been popped in had yet to play the feature presentation. Not quite fifteen feet away, other Forbies sat at long tables eating grainy pre-packaged doughnuts and cheerios. No spoons. Just finger feeding. Hovering around them, a woman in her thirties passed out juice boxes and sippy cups, taking a moment here and there to open up the plastic wrapping of a doughnut or tear the paper lid off of a single serving bowl of cereal. The infantilized twenty-somethings seemed to know at least to raise their hand and whine for help, rather than attempt the feat themselves. What if this was all some advanced form of brainwashing and conditioning rather than a virus? Maybe this was a kind of mass hypnosis or global hysteria. What if the non-Forbies were just as mesmerized as the millennials content to poop their pants? “Go get some breakfast,” Susan’s mother nudged her forward, giving her a pat on the rear. Susan barely felt it through the plastic, padding, and diaper cover she’d been dressed in this morning. Under the humming of old fluorescent lightbulbs, amidst the sky blue walls with fluffy white clouds and different “activity centers” and toys pushed up along the periphery, Susan finally got a good look at what she was wearing…and had to fight back the urge to vomit. Mom had dressed her in a sleeveless red dress with white polka dots. The hem was longer than yesterday’s frilly pink number, but it still only barely covered the bottom of her diaper area. Pulled up over her taped-on absorbent underwear was a matching cover – she immediately loathed the idea of thinking of it as “panties”- and the elastic in the leg bands was already starting to chafe her inner thighs. On top of the shoulder straps of her dress and on the hips of her diaper cover were two superfluous bits of material tied into a rough knot, giving the approximate illusion that her clothes were tied together like some kind of cute country bumpkin child. It was supposed to be cute, Susan guessed, but the only thing it would really accomplish was make it harder for her to sleep on her side during naptime. (Please let there be a naptime. Unconsciousness was the sweetest mercy she could expect today.) Tucking Flopsy under her armpit, she brushed her backside with the tips of her fingers. No stupid ruffles on her butt. At least she had that going for her. The young lady released her mother’s grasp just long enough to feel the top of her head. Sure enough, her fingers clasped on a headband, with a bow big and floppy enough to act as a set of wings should she fall out of plane. A mirror wasn’t needed for Susan to guess that it matched the rest of her outfit perfectly. Her hand swept back underneath her hair, pawing at the glasses now strapped to the back of her skull. Susan was all but blind without her glasses, but that would have been preferable to being dolled up like a friggin’ baby version of Minnie Mouse. Janet seemed to have read her daughter’s thoughts. Mother grabbed daughter’s hand, and pulled it down to her side. “Susan Leann Collins,” she chided, “quit fiddling with your glasses.” “But Mom-!” Susan whined. Mom wasn’t having anything on it. “Don’t you ‘But Mom’ me, baby girl,” Mom interrupted. “You’re never gonna grow up, but you’re gonna grow out of this backsass phase real quick. Understand?” Flashbacks of yesterday’s public spanking sprang to the forefront of Susan’s mind. “Yes ma’am.” She whimpered. That and hearing her full name had a subduing effect on her. “Mrs. Collins!” A new voice entered the fray. Both the forever baby and her forever mommy looked up from each other. An older woman with big straw-colored hair came out of a side door and into the main floor of the old Bingo Hall. “Glad that I caught you!” “Actually, I’m glad I caught you, Miss Donna,” Mom replied. “Susie has been acting strange lately.” Miss Donna- Susan’s “teacher” in this brave new world, she deduced- stopped in front of the pair and frowned. “Strange?” she repeated Susan’s mom, grimacing like it left a bad taste in her mouth. “Strange how?” Now it was Susan’s turn to blanche as Mom gripped her hand a little too tight for comfort. “She’s just been a little too focused on growing up, lately. Lots of talk about not being a baby, and whatnot.” Mom said. A relieved breath puffed an errant strand of hair out of Miss Donna’s face. “Oh,” she said. “THAT. You had me worried for a second, Mrs. Collins.” “You mean she’s been doing it here, too?” Mom asked the teacher. “Not here,” Miss Donna clarified. “Not yet, anyways. Susan is twenty-two, correct?” Susan found herself nodding emphatically, and Mom was kind of enough to just point to her, instead of talking over her for once. “That happens at around this age,” she said by way of explanation. “When our oldest group was about Susan’s age, they went through the same phase. We thought it might have something to do with how they used to be potty trained, but then our twenty-three year olds did the same thing last year and a lot of them had gotten as far as training pants.” “And Susie never came close to getting out of diapers,” Mom piped in. Susan felt her face flush and her mouth go as dry as she hoped her diaper was. (Yikes! She wasn’t even sure if she was wet just then!) Miss Donna seemed to agree. “Must be something about being a forever baby at twenty-two. Which means,” she paused and looked back at the not-so-little tykes watching the opening credits of Pinocchio, “I’ve got at least two more years of this to look forward to.” “You mean, you’re not trying to do potty training with them?” Mom asked. The other woman snorted “Of course not,” before thinking better of it and adding, “That is, if you’re wanting to, we’ll give it a try, but they don’t make forever baby disposable training pants so our best bet would be to switch to cloth diapers and plastic pa-“ She was cut off by Susan’s mom waving her hands and saying “Oh no, no, no. Not what I’m looking to do at all. I just wanted to know. I’m not interested in Susie potty training at all. My baby girl just doesn’t have it in her, and besides-” “It’s a fad,” both women said simultaneously before pausing and laughing a little too heartily for Susan to feel comfortable. After the relieved laughter from both women died down, Mom asked “So Susan’s not the only one at this age?” “Not at all,” Susan’s new/old teacher assured. “I’ve got more than a couple here right now that are starting to act a little too big for their britches.” “What about the cursing?” “Cursing?!” Both adults stopped and shot Susan a stern look. “I didn’t know about cursing,” the teacher said, while still looking pointedly at Susan. “I assume she heard it from one of her little friends here,” Mom said, giving Susan’s hand a squeeze. Both women were shaking their heads in self-righteous disappointment. “I would assume the same thing. Some parents assume that just because their children are never going to grow up, that they won’t learn naughty language,” Miss Donna said. “Thank you for telling me, Mrs. Collins. I’ll be on the lookout for that from now on. We’ll try to nip it in the bud.” She then looked Susan in the eye. “If you hear any of your classmates saying bad words, you don’t copy them, okay? You come right to me or another grown-up.” All Susan could do was nod. Miss Donna nodded back, and then looked to Mom. “Anything else I need to know?” Janet loosened her grip. “No, that’s about it, and I’ve gotta go get ready for the breakfast rush at the diner.” She went to go, then stopped herself. “Oh yeah, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?” The older woman primped her hair a bit and just said, “I just wanted to tell you that we’re starting to run low on diapers for her,” gesturing to Susan. “We’ve got enough to get through today, but we’ll need more for tomorrow.” Knees locked. Teeth gritted. Eyelids shot open. Oh shit! She was in diapers. She’d lost most, if not all of her potty training. She’d need to be changed. And Mom was about to leave her. Susan hadn’t had time to consider this. It was bad enough when Mom had changed her and someone else had been looking on. Unless she could hold it all day (she couldn’t), a complete stranger would be the one wiping between her legs today. Even if she were dry, that wouldn’t stop some rando from groping her pelvis to check her. “Oh, right,” Mom replied, not noticing or not caring about her daughter’s obvious distress. “I’ll make sure to bring another box by when I pick her up this afternoon before the dinner rush.” She turned around to leave. LEAVE! Due to how far her diaper spread her legs apart, Susan didn’t leap at her mother as much as she stumbled over herself and latched onto Mom’s waist. “Mommy!” she yelped. “Don’t leave! Take me to the diner. I’ll be good! I promise!” The idea of Miss Donna- or anyone else, really- laying her down and stripping her threatened to send her into a panic attack. “Susie!” Mom laughed, nervously. “What has gotten into you?! You haven’t cried when I left you at Daycare since you were twelve.” “I’M NOT CRYING!” she shouted, despite herself. The possible future violations flashing in her mind’s eye caused her physical eyes to start watering. Wrinkled hands with shiny red fingernails took hold of Susan’s skinny shoulders. “Looks like someone’s feeling like a bit of a Mommy’s girl this morning,” Miss Donna tutted. “It happens.” Susan got her feet back underneath her and stood ramrod straight. “MOMMY’S GIRL?!” she screeched, whirling around to face her accuser. “MOMMY’S GIRL?!” Her mother was already walking away towards the exit, but Susan didn’t care. “I. AM. NOT. A. MOMMY’S GIRL!” A patronizing pat on her head was her reward. “Of course not, Susan,” Miss Donna cooed. “I just said that that’s how you were feeling. How we feel and who we are aren’t always the same thing. Just like sometimes people at your age feel that they’re big girls.” “I…” Susan stopped. There was no point in arguing, was there? She crossed her arms and pouted. “I want breakfast.” “Of course you do, sweetie. Go find a seat and I’ll bring you some cereal.” Susan stomp walked to the nearest table, the frills on her socks jiggling up and down just as the Blue Fairy made her grand entrance on the big T.V. The constricting diaper cover made it so that her diaper didn’t crinkle as much when she sat down on the hard wooden chair, but the wet squelch that she felt as much as heard was unaffected by it. “Great,” she muttered as a bowl of dry Cheerios was slid in front of her. Now she had something worse than being abandoned by Mommy…her mother…to look forward to. As the bland blonde bimbo waved her wand and granted the demented old clockmaker’s wish that his marionette was a real boy, Susan thought about wishes. Silently, several wishes came to mind. She wished yesterday had never happened. She wished she was continent again. She wished that her diaper was at least dry. She settled for voicing a lesser wish. “I wish I wasn’t wearing all this girly crap,” she whispered. But Susan knew that wishes didn’t really come true. Not hers, anyway. Whatever was happening to her was definitely magic; she’d run out of logical explanations, and so magic seemed to do just fine. Though who in their right mind would wish for this? The other grown toddlers munched on dry cereal and drank orange juice from sippy cups, constantly glancing up at the big screen T.V. at the front of the room, their eyes all but glued to the screen as if they were afraid to miss important plot points involving consciences and singing crickets. Adults prodded them on, saying things like, “When you’re done eating you can go watch closer.” This caused a few to shovel whole grain circles into their mouths faster than their chewing could handle, sending crunched up bits of cereal spilling out of their mouths and into their laps and the floor. Seriously? Was everyone her age now that enthralled by an old cartoon? Had their cognitive functioning or emotional maturity diminished that greatly? Was she the only one her age that still had any trace of adult sensibilities left to her? Susan Collins might not have asked the question out loud, but she got her answer all the same. “UGH…” A voice rang out across the room. “DID YOU JUST SHIT YOURSELF? THAT’S FUCKING GROSS!” Kelsey Kelsey did not like being a baby. That much she knew. She found that she’d liked ball pits, and playgrounds, and kids’ books, and comfy clothes, and stuffed animals just fine, and as a matter of function sippy cups made a lot of sense, but when you crossed that line into babyhood you could count her out. Yeah, her parents were even more supportive and nurturing than Kelsey could remember, and the weird looks about liking those silly things had blinked out of existence, but the pendulum had swung too far in the wrong direction. She couldn’t go anywhere in public without an adult escort or supervision; with every adult determined to bar her path or limit her movement. She didn’t mind holding her Daddy’s hand, but as of yesterday it wasn’t an affectionate request as much as it was a social expectation. Speaking of her parents, no one who wasn’t her age or close to it bothered to talk directly to her. Other Forbies talked to her, (or tried to; Kelsey was in no mood to converse with her peers after the incident with Dragon Jammies and Darling,) but the adults looked right through her so long as there was another grown-up to talk to. Complete strangers “complimented” her by talking about how cute she was to her parents instead of her. It seemed every apparatus with her in mind, from chairs to beds to doors, was designed to limit her movement and stop her from escaping. Kelsey hadn’t even been allowed to buckle herself into the car when she went back home with her parents. There had been a special harness waiting for her, which Mommy buckled her into while Daddy started up the car. Even worse, the devices worked flawlessly, as if she really were a baby. Back in middle school she’d gone through a coin trick and sleight of hand phase after watching a Penn and Teller show on T.V. She’d been nothing special at it, but she could at least make a hanky disappear and pull it out of somebody’s ear. As of last night, she couldn’t get her hands to properly coordinate the grip and twist safety lock on her bedroom-turned-nursery’s doorknob. Opening a bottle of Tylenol was beyond her right now. She could still move her digits with perfect coordination if she imagined herself playing a piano; miming years of practiced chords and drills. Yet, her fingers got a case of the dumb when she’d tried to fiddle with the buckles on her shortalls. That was another thing: Based on her current outfit, the shortalls she wore yesterday were the most adult thing she’d be wearing in the foreseeable future. Today she’d been dressed in (not dressed herself in) a short blue T-shirt that stopped just short of her belly button, a diaper (of course) and a waterproof plastic lined cover with Cinderella on the cover. Under normal circumstances, Kelsey liked Cinderella. A lifetime ago (as late as a few days before), she’d been wearing Cinderella printed underwear, but this was too much. The plastic pants snapped into place along her hips instead of being pulled up. That meant that Kelsey had to endure the sensations of being diapered twice in a row. Legs up. Bum up. Hear something sliding underneath. Bum down. Another layer of padding. Legs down. Spread ‘em. Hold still. Snap up the left side. Snap up the right side. Ta-da! Sit up. Aaaand there’s now two sets of crinkles; one from the plastic of the diaper, one from the plastic inside the cover. Daddy referred to this ensemble as a “casual play outfit”. Mommy said it was “borderline stripper”. Kelsey would have agreed, if not for all the extra material in the way of her private parts. She might as well have been stuffing a bum-bra. It was like weight training with her ass. When she walked (if she could call it walking) she felt the extra weight yanking her down even more so than when she’d filled her pants up at the playhouse. And this was when she was dry downstairs. When the inevitable happened, how heavy would her hips feel? It was inevitable, too, Kelsey had quickly learned. The psychology major had learned quickly through experimentation that unless she paid special focus to the task of holding her urine, she was just as likely to flood her diaper as keep it dry. Her bladder control had atrophied to near incontinence in a matter of hours. She well and truly needed diapers. She couldn’t even begin to dwell on the diapers, lest she break down into a sobbing fit. It wasn’t just the incontinence aspect, either. Plenty of people were incontinent (plenty more since yesterday, Kelsey reckoned). Since reality had gone ca-ca, she had lost all rights to privacy and bodily autonomy. Strangers had groped her and manhandled her in the name of checking and maintaining her hygiene. While getting her ready for bed, her mother rubbed a cold, smelly paste onto her buttocks, followed by perfumed cornstarch dusted onto her mound without so much as a warning, all in the name of keeping her from getting a rash. So yeah…count her out of this whole “forever baby” thing. The cons far outnumbered and outweighed the pros. If only she could be counted out. Being in her early twenties and in college, she never fully considered herself an adult, even if she was legally allowed to go out to a bar, get completely sloshed, and have unprotected sex with a total stranger (not that she ever did). She didn’t even have that kind of reckless behavior now. This morning alone, Kelsey had been stripped, wiped, diapered, effectively diapered again, dressed, carried, restrained in a chair, force fed what was effectively semi-liquid bread, unrestrained, carried again, restrained in a DIFFERENT chair, transported to the old abandoned Bingo Hall (now a Forby daycare), unrestrained again, carried AGAIN, and then left with a bunch of other twenty-something toddlers who really ought to know better. Kelsey herself wasn’t getting to DO anything. Everything was happening TO her. “So this is life now,” Kelsey mumbled as yet another daycare worker (too many grown-ups to keep track of) popped a disc into the big screen television’s DVD player. “Might as well watch some cartoons.” Walking towards the front, Kelsey’s eyes scanned the room, looking for familiar faces. No such luck. No such curse. Again, she was awash in a sea of strangers as parents brought in their adult/baby children. An adult that she didn’t recognize- but certainly knew Kelsey’s name- waved to her and asked if she’d already eaten breakfast. The former college senior nodded and she was told to go sit on the carpet and watch the movie (In other words: What she was planning on doing anyways). Kelsey almost jumped out of her skin and screamed when the adult hurried her on her way with a light pat on her padded rear.. AGAIN with the casual space violations! Was it this bad for real babies or did they just not mind as much? A glance of other kids being sent off with playful swats told her it didn’t matter. This is how it was for the time being. The other Forbies didn’t have her sense of modesty or didn’t know it should end and none of their parents had any expectations that they should grow to mind it. Little kids were only taught about stuff like “private parts” and “personal space” when they were considered competent enough to at least partly advocate for themselves and when sanitizing their genitals wasn’t someone else’s job. “Play it cool, girl,” Kelsey told herself. “Play it cool.” The young woman unclenched her fists, and resorted to grabbing two handfuls of her wild, curly hair. Wearing almost nothing, she continued unnoticed among the infantile imbeciles and took a seat on the rug up close to the big screen T.V. as the first wave of previews ended. It was little like that dream that a lot of people had: The one where they’re at school or work, and either underdressed or completely naked, but no one else seemed to notice. Most psychologists that still put stock in such things, said that that a naked dream was tied to feeling unprepared or vulnerable, even more so if the dream was set at a school or other childhood setting. That was true in this case; Kelsey did indeed feel vulnerable, and the setting was certainly childish. Speaking of which: Kelsey looked around and started counting bodies. First Forbies, then daycare workers. By the time the latest advertisement about what was coming out of the Disney Vault was done, Kelsey had a rough count. There were twenty-four giant babies, and six grown-ups. That was a one-to-four ratio; the exact recommended number of caregivers to toddlers recommended by the state curriculum guidelines according to her Sophomore year childhood development class. “Well I’ll be,” she said to herself. “You’ll be what?” an unfamiliar voice caught the psych major’s attention. Kelsey pivoted in her seat and made eye contact with another young woman behind her. The blonde girl sat there, legs splayed out, taking up as much space on her section of rug possible. Her ample breasts were likely a benefit in the life before this one, but were worthless underneath her mint green onesie that had the leg gathers of her diaper poking out a bit at the edges. The blue pacifier dangling from the clip almost perfectly matched her intense, unblinking eyes. The pouting scowl on her lips looked like something damn near close to “adult”. Had they been seen as adults, the other girl would have been described as having “resting bitch face,” but under current circumstances would likely just be labeled “cranky”. “You’ll be what?” the blonde forever baby asked again, her face a mask of seething anger. Bitch must have been constipated or something. Kelsey might have answered her honestly, but fresh memories from yesterday’s antics of Dragon Jammies caused her not to trust big blonde babies. It’s not like she’d understand or appreciate how closely this second infancy was starting to mirror the first one. As far as everyone but her was concerned, this WAS their first infancy. “I’ll be uh,” Kelsey did her best to manufacture a convincing lie. “I’ll be uh....uh…a unicorn.” The woman in the green onesie rolled her crystal blue eyes like a mean girl from a high school flick. “Whatever,” she said dismissively before popping her pacifier between her lips. Kelsey directed her nastiest thoughts towards the spoiled brat of a woman and turned back to face the screen. The main menu came up, and a teacher quickly pressed “play”, sending it to the main credits. “Pinocchio,” Kelsey said, smiling despite herself. “At least it’s a good one.” Kelsey had a special place in her heart for the more nostalgic aspects of childhood; hence her fascination with Dr. Seuss. Walt Disney’s second feature length animated film was no exception. The petite little girl wiggled her fanny on the carpet a bit, trying to get herself more comfortable. Space was quickly running out of room as Forby after Forby came and laid down on the floor, their faces propped up in their hands. Darn it. She should’ve laid down, too. Rookie mistake. On the bright side, she discovered, her diaper and cover had all the crinkle of being fresh and none of the telltale pulpiness of being wet. So she had that going for her…for the moment at least. “You know this one, too?” A slender girl with her long black hair in braids tapped her on the shoulder. Kelsey turned her head to get a look at the newcomer. Relatively speaking, she was less babyish than the others. There was still the padded bump between her legs that they all shared in common, but she was wearing a black t-shirt and pink leggings; which made her look a far site more adult than the boys and girls in their onesies and rompers, or Kelsey herself if she was being honest. Kelsey took a deep breath, instinctively hoping against hope that she’d found a peer. “Yeah,” she said, “as an adaptation it’s very loose, but it establishes its own mythos and the Disney formula had yet to be codified yet, so any tropes it demonstrates could hardly be…blamed…upon….” The words were going right over the other girl’s head, and the ex-psych student felt her enthusiasm waning. “Everybody oughta see…it…once.” Only the childlike innocence and ignorance of a pre-kindergartener shone in the other woman’s eyes. “It’s my second favoritest,” the girl agreed. “I really like the songs and the cartoons.” Songs and cartoons. The goalposts were really close with this girl. “Uh-huh,” Kelsey sighed. “Me too.” Then she asked, “What’s your favorite movie if this is your second favorite?” The other girl grinned. “Alice in Wonderland. It’s my favoritest cuz it has my name in it.” A pause. “I’m Alice.” Kelsey’s hand reached out in greeting. “Hi Alice, I’m Kel-“ “Shhhh…it’s starting,” Alice cut her off. “This is my favoritest part.” Kelsey had the impression that every part of this movie was going to be Alice’s “favoritest” part. Oh well. At this point, a less whimsical soul might continue their spiral into existential crisis, devolving into further madness, or at least a temper tantrum. But Kelsey liked cartoons and songs too, even if she was more articulate about it than Alice. Awash in an impossible situation, Kelsey used the cartoon as a crutch, letting the songs and familiar story distract her from how bad everything had gotten. “When you wish upon a star,” she sang softly, dreamily, “makes no difference who you are, when you wish upon a star, your dreeeeeeams cooooome truuuuue.” Just let the dream take you, girl, she thought. Let the dream take you away. Numb the crazy. “How are you doin’ that?” an awestruck Alice asked in a hushed whisper. “That’s amazing!” It took a moment for Kelsey to realize that she was being talked to. She shook her head, sending her hair every which way. Giggles coincided with it, showing that at least some of the others were mildly amused. A muted growl, likely the bitch in the onesie indicated that at least one was not. “Whaddya mean?” she asked Alice, “Singin’?” “No,” Alice shook her head, flapping her own braided hair across her face. “How do you know the words?” The ex-psych major bit her bottom lip. It was a question that was too simple to answer easily. She decided to code switch into the local dialect. “I uh…have seen it a billion billion times…?” “Me too,” Alice replied, “but I still don’t know all the songs. You must be super smart.” Kelsey scoffed. Girl was impressed that she knew the lyrics to one of the easiest and most iconic songs in a musical that wasn’t particularly lyrically complex? Girl said this was her second favorite movie, and didn’t know the words to “When You Wish Upon a Star”? Then again, it’s not as if Alice, or any other forever baby, was a terribly reliable narrator. Another snippet from her child development class bubbled up to the surface of her mind. It was possible that Alice was telling the truth. Toddlers often liked watching or doing the same activities again and again, because the repetition gave them time to analyze and lent a sense of predictability to their life, even if the act itself wasn’t properly memorized. Yup. That was about on target with how Alice was acting, all things considered. “Naw,” Kelsey finally said as Geppetto finished his wishing prayer. “I’m just…developmentally advanced…for a Forby.” “Huh?” “Never mind,” Kelsey groaned softly and turned her head back to the movie. Time to ditch this nightmare world for a fantasy one. Time to tune out the voices of Freud and Piaget, and tune into Jiminy Cricket. A sharp pain in her stomach and a building sensation of uncomfortable fullness ripped her out of the fantasy world by the time the Blue Fairy twinkled onto screen. “Not again,” Kelsey said a little too loudly. “Shhhhhh” came a reprimand from a nearby adult. An older woman with red polished nails leaned over and whispered, “I know you’re restless, but you have to be patient. After everyone is done with breakfast, you can go to the playground before class if you want, but watch the movie for now. Okay hon?” Kelsey had learned too quickly that arguing in her current state with someone over the age of thirty was futile. The poor thing just bit her lip and nodded, and was given a pat on the head for her trouble. I’m gonna poop, Kelsey thought. I’m gonna shit myself. That’s a fact. Don’t know why, but it’s a fact. I can’t stop it. It’s inevitable. She was trying to make peace with the idea. But if I try hard enough, maybe I can last until we go to the playground. Maybe I can have SOME form of autonomy. Finding a corner outside to fill her pants in was the closest she’d get to excusing herself to go to the restroom. Poop your pants at the playground, she thought as the pain started to build in her gut. Just make it till then. Poop your pants at the playground. You can do it. You can wait. You’re a big girl. Big girls decide when they poop their pants. “What’s wrong?” A sympathetic Alice whispered, dragging Kelsey out of her bizarre medication. “Gotta poop,” Kelsey hissed, feeling a heat rise to her face. Another heat was filling up her diaper at the same time. In trying to control her bowels, she’d left her bladder unguarded. Fuck it. That’s what diapers were for, anyways. She still hadn’t lost. Alice smirked. “Okay. So poop.” “Don’t wanna,” Kelsey growled. “I’mma big girl.” She popped her thumb into her mouth and bit down on it to balance out the pain in her guts. Alice’s smirk widened. “Why’s everybody sayin’ that?” Lower cheeks clenched in defiance, Kelsey ignored what her new theatre companion just said. “Just poop. If you know you gotta go just get it over with.” A dour expression flashed across the other girl’s face. “It’s not like you’re gonna get to finish the movie anyway,” she said, thumbing at the screen. “Some grown-up’ll just drag you to a changing table or somethin’.” Like a ledge jumper looking for a way out, Kelsey desperately sought relief. “They’ll…change…me…?” The less articulate girl looked absolutely incredulous…not that she knew what that meant. “Course they will. That’s what dumb grown-ups do. They change you even when you don’t wanna get changed.” “But everybody’s…” Kelsey stopped talking as another wave of cramps reared up…then continued, “…watchin.” “So…?” Kelsey couldn’t argue with that logic. No one else seemed to mind when a guy or gal stopped and dropped a load in front of everyone. Some of the further gone ones even announced it. According to philosopher Albert Camus, the solution to suffering in an absurd existence is to accept the absurdity and enjoy it. No matter how many times Sisyphus pushed that boulder up the hill, it would roll back down and he’d have to push it up all over again for all eternity. His suffering would never end if he continued to struggle against the boulder. Camus believed that the only way he could end his suffering would be to choose to take pleasure in the act. As things were stacking up, Kelsey could not stop herself, or even properly delay the act of humiliating herself in public. The only way she could stop herself from despair would be to find some other way to feel about filling her diaper up. In other words: Fuck it. When in Rome and all that. No need for modesty. Modesty was dead. Internally, Kelsey focused on the pressure building up inside her body. How good it would feel to release it; to just let go and not care! She remembered the warmth that coated her as she did what came so naturally. And it was all contained, too. Nothing on the floor, nothing on her clothes (when she had to wear them), and nothing to be ashamed of. The diaper around her hips contained the mess. It was efficient. It was clean. A few moments of pressure, then release and catharsis, and then she could be laid down and gently cleaned and renewed! Before then she might even take some pleasure in the little sensations and textures that encased her. All she had to do was stop fighting herself internally, and be like Sisyphus: Enjoy her absurd, impossible, and endless task. Keeping her pants clean. Yes, she thought. Let’s do this. Let’s enjoy pushing the boulder up the hill. Let’s. Enjoy. Pushing. Wild haired and wild eyed, Kelsey gathered her feet underneath her and stood to her full height. Eyes drooping closed, she took a deep breath, and with a kind of quiet dignity (all things considered), she ended her struggle. Just like yesterday, the mess escaped into the back of her diaper, spreading out along her backside as she pushed more and more out of her. Unlike the previous incident, there was a kind of peace that settled over her as she did it. It was as if all of her anxieties were draining out into the thick padding and spreading harmlessly across her backside. Eyelids fluttering and spots dancing in her vision, Kelsey mumbled something in tongues under her breath. Even she didn’t know what she’d said, and in the heat of the moment, she didn’t particularly care; it’s not like anyone would have heard her anyway. Just then, Kelsey was glad for the heavy plastic diaper cover; the thicker, stiffer material supported her messy diaper and made it sag and balloon less as she deposited her mess into her clothing. Discretion was key. Damn, that felt good! What happened next didn’t. “UGH...DID YOU JUST SHIT YOURSELF? THAT’S FUCKING GROSS!” The words rang out like a gunshot. Shocked gasps and cries of “oooooooh” echoed over the daycare floor. Bowlegged and messy bummed, Kelsey pivoted towards the source of the accusation. Arms crossed, still scowling with a case of resting bitch face, and newly dropped pacifier now swinging from its tether, the blonde girl in the mint green onesie sat there while everyone else stared in disbelief. “What?” the blonde witch asked the room of shocked onlookers. “It’s gross. I’m right behind her, too, so it’s like ground zero. If you gotta shit yourself,” she looked straight at Kelsey, “at least have a little dignity and try to do it in the corner. Be an adult about it.” Emotionally laid low and stripped bare, the future psychologist saw her ideas moments ago as nothing but mental gymnastics meant to justify her actions. Those ideas were just reinforcing her own learned helplessness. They weren’t meant to help; just to stencil on a smiley face onto an existential crisis. Humiliated, Kelsey felt her own heart drop down into her diaper along with the rest of the mess her life had become. She looked around, trying to find some comprehending or sympathetic face. All eyes were on the mean blonde girl though, as if she had spoken some kind of arcane hex. How could she be brought so low by some dumb blonde in a onesie? Even more astounding, had she just been saved from herself by a tactless peer calling a spade a spade? Despite all of her education and her superb vocabulary, Kelsey was at a loss for words. Like every other Forby, she could only gaze, slack jawed at the young woman who’d so crassly shamed her in public. It figured; in a world where self-defecation is the norm, it’s cussing that gets all the attention. Only Alice didn’t seem to notice what was going on, having stretched out onto her side and taking up both her own space and where Kelsey had been sitting. Alice kept watching the movie. “DAKOTA!” a teacher yelled, breaking the spell. “THAT KIND OF LANGUAGE IS NOT-“ “FUCK YOU!” This time it was Kelsey screaming the obscenities. ”FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID JUDGEMENTAL CUNT! I BET YOU WERE ONE OF THOSE FUCKING SHALLOW SLUTS THAT PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOL BEFORE WE-!” The pendulum had started swinging again. It had swung to full on pants filling toddler, and the immense injustice of her situation had caused Kelsey’s emotional compass to right itself back in the direction of dignity, sophistication, analysis, and ultimately adulthood . Unfortunately, (or fortunately as the case may be perceived), that meant a quick side trip through the wild west of middle school, when pure brazen audacity and emotional intensity beat out social niceties and intellectual sparring. It was extremely difficult (and ultimately futile in Kelsey’s case) for someone to go through what Kelsey had endured and maintain their composure when even the small comfort of “everybody’s doin’ it” is taken away. So out the window composure went. Fuck it. “KELSEY!” the teacher positively BOOMED. “THAT! IS! ENOUGH!” Kelsey and the other girl stole a look at each other, two gladiators in a stunned silent coliseum . Great. Now they were both smiling. As if sharing a thought, both babied women said the same thing to each other. “BI-!” “TIIIIIIME OUT!” As two adults ran in and carried them away- one scooping her legs out from underneath her, the other one going for the blonde bimbo- Kelsey hoped that she was going to a changing table before going to a naughty stool. Even if not, worth it. Totally worth it. By God, it felt glorious to actually DO something again, instead of have something HAPPEN to her. Cussing that bitch out had been the most adult thing she’d done all day. Dakota Dakota started the day in a foul mood. In truth, she’d been in a foul mood since yesterday when her entire social standing had been reduced to “diaper wearing moron”, but this morning it was particularly bad. When she got home yesterday, she’d learned all too well that the difference between being waited on hand and foot and being treated like an idiot incapable of caring for herself was all a matter of the people tending to your needs. A cute boy with rich parents wanting to slip into her pants wasn’t the same as her dad and younger sister. “Not having to” was much more fun than “not able to.” And there was so much that she wasn’t able to do, despite her protests that lasted well into the evening. She couldn’t dress herself, or feed herself, or bathe herself. Her hands seemed to go full on retard every time she tried to do something involving her own independence. The lack of a bra and the soft, comfy clothes she’d been dressed in had a nasty one-two punch of giving her ample physical stimulation, but she couldn’t so much as masturbate last night. Her fingers lacked the strength and coordination to rip the tapes off her diaper- she’d found out the hard way- and the Maggie Simpson sleep suit she’d been zipped into that night had been complete overkill. Even AFTER she’d gotten over the sensation of a wet diaper (it actually felt kinda nice if she didn’t think about it, she had to admit), she couldn’t properly rub herself through two layers of fabric because of the damn baby monitor perched above her crib. She’d bluffed Daddy into believing she had just had an itch- and that earned her an early change and another layer of cream and powder on her cootch- but when she’d been bold enough to try again and Virginia checked on her, she was punished. “Nice try, baby sis,” Virginia had cooed in the dark of her (of course) babified bedroom. “But that’s just for us big girls.” Then came the mittens. Then came the pacifier. Then came a long night of quietly moaning into the rubber gag while trying not to hump her mattress till unconsciousness claimed her. Lack of sleep was decidedly a factor in her temperament. This morning was no better, for her, unfortunately. The soft, mint green onesie clung to her curves, and air conditioning in the giant mental ward (this was NOT a daycare, fuck that) made her nipples as stiff as anything. Not that anyone noticed. The shirt with crotch snaps only covered up as much as a bathing suit (more than her typical bathing suits, but still…) and no one gave her a second glance. Diapered or not, all the boys (and some of the girls likely) should have been drooling all over themselves. They weren’t though. A bulge in a boy’s pants now just meant he needed to be changed, and she’d been among the first to be sat down at a long table, given a bowl of Cheerios to finger feed herself, and then be ushered towards a big screen T.V. with the other “Forbies”. (What a stupid name). Her body craved release, but she couldn’t get the privacy (or intimacy) to allow herself to indulge. Instead, she had to settle for sucking on a pacifier and pretending she was sucking on something else. (God she never thought she’d miss Brendan this much this soon.) The sex-kitten had been declawed. “Hey Dakota,” a familiar (and unwelcome) voice called out to her. Now dressed in pink leggings and a black t-shirt, the little brat that had ruined Dakota’s attempts to reclaim her dignity saddled up beside her on the carpet. “How ya doin?” If Dakota had given the other girl any more side eye, she’d be seeing the inside of her own skull. True to form, Alice was completely unfazed and played at misunderstanding. (At least Dakota thought it was playing…never could be too sure with a twat like Alice) “Are you still mad about yesterday?” Alice asked. “Come on. I was just tryin’ to stay outta trouble, same as you. No hard feelings.” Dakota snarled, “Oh there’s hard feelings, alright.” “Oh no,” Alice shot her hand up to her mouth. Her voice was dripping with concern. “Did you get spanked when you got home? I did and even my extra thicks make it hard to sit.” She pointed to the extra big diaper she wore, the top poking out of her tights. “Pfft…” Dakota said, “I’m used to having people beg to spank me. You,” she leveled a finger at Alice, “humiliated me.” The dark haired ditz actually managed to cock an eyebrow. “How did I humiliate you?” Alice asked. “You didn’t see that public shaming?” “You mean, ‘time out’?” Alice asked, clearly unimpressed. “Time out is nothin’. I can do time out standing on my head.” “They were laughing at me!” Dakota hissed, digging her nails into her forearms in order to maintain some form of composure. “Everyone! Even the grown-ups!” (Dakota hadn’t meant to refer to the ones not pissing their pants as grown-ups…but the word fit.) Alice shrugged. “If you say so. I ‘member one or two, but not everybody.” Was this basic bitch trying to gaslight her? “So,” she continued, “can I sit next to you?” Dakota’s finely tuned instincts kicked into gear. When you were losing the game, change the game. “Sure.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.” Alice scooted up to Dakota, her braids clacking against each other as her enormous diaper rustled against the floor. Like a cat nipping at its owner’s heels so it could be fed, Dakota reached out and pinched Alice just above the elbow. “Ow!” Alice exclaimed. She rubbed her arm. “What’d you do that for?” Playing with her pacifier, turning it over in her hands, Dakota looked up and said “Did what for?” “You just pinched me.” “Did I?” “I’m gonna tell,” Alice threatened. Dakota stared her new rival dead in the eye. “Do it and see what happens.” The two stared each other in the eye, the DVD previews flashing on the screen just in front of them as more and more forever babies toddled in and took their places on the carpet next to, in front of, and behind them. It was Alice who blinked first. Wordlessly, the other girl looked away, and scooted forward and off to the side; closer to the T.V. but with her back to Dakota and where Dakota could see her. As sure a sign of submission as any she was likely to get. “That’s right.” Dakota whispered to herself. “You move, you dumb cunt.” “Well I’ll be,” a new voice wormed its way into Dakota’s ear. Dakota tensed up immediately. Had someone just seen what had happened? Now that the world had gone bonkers, it was back to literal playground politics. Snitches wouldn’t do. Directly in front of her, all but blocking her view of the movie was this little tart with hair almost bigger than the rest of her body. The only thing she was wearing was a blue t-shirt and matching diaper cover with a Disney Princess on it. If Dakota was in a singlet, this chick was rocking a bikini. A tiny lifetime ago, Dakota might’ve seen that as a challenge, but the more merciful side of her reminded her that the dumb sap probably didn’t know her colors, yet alone dress herself. Still…couldn’t be too careful. “You’ll be what?” Dakota spoke up, trying to get this new competitor’s attention. The girl turned around, eyes brimming with something resembling hope and then dimming to disappointment. Upon closer inspection of the girl’s chest, Dakota deduced that this chick wouldn’t have been competition. Alice was already scooting closer to this new girl, (a potential sidekick or just another patsy? Did it matter?). Dakota locked eyes with her prey and repeated herself. “You’ll be what?” Eyes timidly darted around the other girl’s skull. The idiot HAD heard something, after all, and like a cornered little rat, she was scrambling for an excuse. “I’ll be uh…uh…a unicorn.” Unicorn? Really? This chick couldn’t have been that bright. Did she really expect Dakota to believe that tripe? Still, a lie meant she’d been cowed for the time being. Dakota rolled her eyes and let the idiot off the hook with a “Whatever,” before popping her paci between her lips; sucking on it and thinking of Brendan. Big hair and tiny breasts turned away and looked back at the screen like a good little kicked puppy. In front of her the screen finally got to the main menu and the feature presentation started. Great. Pinocchio. Dakota rolled her eyes yet again, feeling it was the only way of properly venting frustration left to her. At least it was a real movie and not Baby Einstein or whatever garbage kids were subjected to these days. She could deal with Disney before she could deal with more kiddie crap. Alice and her latest patsy started jabbering, not that Dakota minded terribly. She couldn’t hear what they were talking about, and only saw their chins wagging. But just knowing that Alice wasn’t in tears was enough to make her skin crawl. Dakota promised to concoct an appropriate level of torment and revenge for Alice…right after the movie. The ex-gold digger cocked her head to the left. Then to the right. Damn it. Unicorn bitch kept fidgeting in her seat and shaking her head when she talked. Her hair was like a friggin’ flag and kept flapping every which way, blocking her view. Losing patience, she curled her lip and let out a low warning growl, knowing that the lesser woman would hear it. That seemed to settle her down a bit; even if she was still whispering junk to Alice. The movie hadn’t been on ten minutes when the new girl crossed the line from minor nuisance to major problem. It all happened so fast. The new girl gathered her feet up underneath her and stood up, completely blocking Dakota’s view of the Blue Fairy. She didn’t stay at her full height long, though. Almost as soon as she stood up, she widened her stance, and squatted down, her well padded rump jutting out behind her…right where Dakota was sitting. Oh no. Dakota’s eyes widened in fear, and she felt herself biting down on her pacifier. New girl started grunting, and decidedly rude, unladylike noises started sneaking out from her backside. Oh God, please no. “POOOOOOPIE!” the girl announced to everyone within earshot, as her own backside trumpeted the arrival of a load in her pants, the back end noticeably bulging even with the extra layer of “protection” that the girl had on. And front and center, there for the whole show, was Dakota. The blonde sex-kitten could only watch, unable to properly react as the disgusting little freak slacked a bit and sighed audibly while she wiggled her backside like a tail, spreading the stink of her own loaded diaper around the room. The girl’s knees were starting to buckle, like she was about to sit right back down like nothing had happened. Oh hell no! There might not have been a way to properly react, but Dakota decided to act. “UGH…DID YOU JUST SHIT YOURSELF?” she called out. “THAT’S FUCKING GROSS!” Her righteous words seemed to snap the little twat out of her hypnotic crap trance, causing the girl to stand ramrod still. Like a group of school children who’d just witnessed the cardinal sin of cussing in a classroom, the other dumb babies audibly sucked in their breaths and cries of “oooooooh” washed over her. Inwardly, Dakota smiled to herself. She was exactly where she wanted to be now. In control and at the center of attention. If she was gonna be stuck as a giant toddler, she’d at least be the Queen Bitch Toddler. Bowlegged and dumb, the girl who’d just shit herself and announced it to everyone turned around, blushing furiously and giving Dakota a pathetic death glare. As if it was Dakota’s fault this idiot had just acted the fool. For some people, this whole diaper thing was surely a needed improvement. “What?” Dakota addressed the crowd. “It’s gross. I’m right behind her, too, so it’s like ground zero. If you gotta shit yourself,” she pointed to her latest victim, “at least have a little dignity and try to do it in the corner. Be an adult about it.” She hadn’t slapped the girl, but to Dakota’s thinking, and based on the reaction, she might as well have. Meanwhile, predictably, Alice had just laid down where the new girl had been sitting and was still watching Pinocchio. Girl was a real sociopath and a true eye of the storm. She stirred shit like a pro, but was never there for the blowback. Dakota kind of admired that. Shame she couldn’t be friends with her. “DAKOTA!” an orderly (or whatever you called someone who got paid to wipe adult asses) called out. Dakota was already preparing a heartfelt apology to the adult and little miss poopy pants. The ‘dumb baby’ card could be played to her advantage. “THAT KIND OF LANGUAGE IS NOT-“ “FUCK YOU!” The orderly was cut off, but not by Dakota. The ex-man eater actually jumped a little bit. It was the new girl. Dakota didn’t even think these forever babies knew how to swear anymore. ”FUCK YOU, YOU STUPID JUDGEMENTAL CUNT!” The new girl piled on. “I BET YOU WERE ONE OF THOSE FUCKING SHALLOW SLUTS THAT PEAKED IN HIGH SCHOOL BEFORE WE-!” Another grown up cut the other diapered woman off. “KELSEY! THAT! IS! ENOUGH!” Kelsey, huh? Dakota made a mental note to remember that name, so she’d know who to mentally pick apart over the coming days. (How else was she supposed to keep her sanity?) Dakota had known girls just like this. Jealous, ugly girls, who weren’t good looking or charming enough to get by on their own. The ones who were the Mathletes and the Spelling Bee Champs who swore they’d go on to “own” girls like Dakota, but really just ended up marrying some other obscure loser. Dakota looked in the other girl, and saw a fire in her eyes. This chick really wanted a fight it seemed. Good. Let’s fight. As if sharing a thought, both babied women said the same thing to each other. “BI-!” “TIIIIIIME OUT!” Like a kiddie version of a prison riot, two fully functional (relatively speaking…they worked here) adults ran in and separated one scooping her legs out from underneath this Kayla girl (or whatever her name was), her diaper already starting to sag despite the extra layer on her ass, and the other one rudely yanking Dakota out of the T.V. area and towards a corner cordoned off with painter’s tape, a sign made out of construction paper and permanent marker labeling the area “Time Out.” Worth it. Totally worth it. A tiny little plastic stool, not that different from the one at Mrs. Jay’s house yesterday was yanked out, and Dakota was forced to sit down on it. “Now, you just sit there and think about what you’ve done,” the orderly said. Gladly. Dakota popped her paci and started sucking on it contentedly as the rube walked away. While she was an island of calm on the outside, Dakota’s heart was pounding with excitement. A real catfight was looming; Dakota could feel it. Girl was so angry she was close to swinging, Dakota knew. That’d be all the excuse she’d need to wreck some face. It’d been years since she’d gotten to do this, but starting a fight was like riding a bike. She held onto that anger. She sipped at it like a fine pinot noir. She nursed it like the milk in one of the bottles she’d be undoubtedly force fed at some point today. She didn’t understand why the world had changed around her, or why she was the only one that noticed it, but right now she didn’t care. Conflict. That’s what would keep her going. That’s what would keep her from cracking. That’s what would keep her sane. As she stewed in her anger, Dakota’s concentration was broken when another big baby entered her sight from the periphery. Like everyone her age since yesterday, the girl waddled as much as she walked from all the swollen thirsty padding strapped between her thighs. The big polka-dot bow and matching dress made the wobbling more apparent, with the hem and edges of the ribbons swaying and bobbing left and right with every step. It’d been kind of funny if it weren’t so sad. Despite herself, Dakota sucked harder on her paci. She was having flashbacks from the previous day. Soon, she feared, more big dumb diapered idiots would come up and start pointing and laughing her. Soon, she’d be out of control. No more Forbies came with her though. No one else came at all, unless you counted the stuffed rabbit that the girl clung to like it was her lifeline. For a tiny eternity, the two women stared at each other. “Whaddya want?” Dakota asked, mumbling behind her binkie. The chick in the Minnie Mouse getup cleared her throat. “I’m Susan,” the new girl said. “I wasn’t a big baby until yesterday. None of us were.” Dakota spat out her pacifier, indignantly. “I know that!” “Yeah, but that puts us in the minority, doesn’t it?” The ex-gold digger stopped the rubber nipple swinging on her neck. “Fair point.” “Thing is,” this other lady, Susan, said “I think that other girl is in the same boat.” “You think so?” Dakota asked. “Yeah, I do.” Come to think of it, maybe the chick with the stuffed bunny was right. Didn’t her new enemy mention something about high school? How would she even know to use those same old useless arguments unless she remembered them? You didn’t bring up high school to a baby (or a retard, for that matter). It just wasn’t done. That meant that Dakota wasn’t really alone in this madhouse. There were others. “Hmm…” Dakota allowed herself to smile. “…maybe we should all be friends, then.”

Dyer here

Ch. 2 Kelly shakes her head coming back to reality, she is sitting in Laura’s lap in a fresh diaper, in one of the beanbag chairs. Laura is looking at her with an expression of amused contentment “So where did you go Kelly girl?” “Aspen” Laura looks at her knowingly and plants a kiss on top of her head. “Come on let’s finish getting you into your comfy clothes.” Laura goes into the closet and pulls out several different outfits, Kelly points to indicate the one she wants. “Always a classic.” Laura pulls a grey t-shirt over Kelly’s head that says, “Mommy’s Little Gamer” and helps her into pair of dark denim shortalls. Carrying Kelly down stairs Laura set’s them down on the couch. While Kelly fires up the game system Laura pops into the kitchen and pop’s out a few minutes later with snacks. “Ready Mom?” “Sorry Kelly I just got called in to put out a fire at the office something got screwed up with the course software and I have to go keep the TAs and IT people from killing each other. I’ll be back in a couple hours don’t worry I’ll have a special after dinner surprise to make up for it.” “Okay…” As Laura pulls out of the drive way Kelly can’t help feeling disappointed at missing their Friday afternoon gaming session, but sometimes shit happens and speaking of shit….. Kelly loudly breaks wind as a warm soft turd slips out of her into her shorts. Kelly couldn’t stop even if she wanted to. Smiling as she fills her diaper before cracking open her can of Coca-Cola Remix, Kelly sighs contentedly as she squirms feeling the warm soft mush spreading and coating her privates. Kelly now in full chill mode tucks into the small mini pizzas, basically the crunchy whole foods version of bagel bites, before starting her game session.

To help with becoming bowel incontinent, I’ve found that a very small enema will do the trick. This especially works first thing in the morning. I happen to use a vagina douche bulb for this. Use a 1/8th of a cup or less of very warm soapy water. It is the soap that stimulates your bowels to move. As soon as you wake or set you alarm early to administer the enema and return to bed. If you are at all worried about soiling the bed, it will get in the way of a natural bowel movement, so make sure that you’ve taken all the precautions necessary. The enema will stimulate your bowels very naturally. You will mess and it will be bacuse you can’t hold any longer (which makes you feel helpless and babyish) was and usually within a few minutes. It is a luxurious feeling to feel the increasing need to go. This urgency will gradually increase until your bowels will move and you will not be able to stop it. You will experience struggling to hold rather than trying to force yourself, which is what you want. You will mess your diaper uncontrollably. Because it’s more natural, you will be able to unpotty-train yourself and early morning messing will become simply a matter of just relaxing. This has worked for me.

Monday morning dawned with my wife standing over me. It was clear I was in a puddle. I was barely surprised. “That’s second and last strike, you know. If you do it again, you lose the bet.” She smiled. I yawned and stretched. “That’s OK, things are going better today, and I’ll be able to get to the bathroom as I need to. Tonight I’ll just pull an all nighter.” Getting up, I bundled the wet sheets and pajamas into a ball and brought it to the washer, starting the load. A quick shower and breakfast, and I was soon engrossed in work. Every 15 minutes, though, the alarm on my phone rang, and I would dutifully trek to the bathroom, shake off the uneasy feeling, and drain whatever I had. Lunch came and went, and soon it was dinner time. The interrupts kept my day from being very productive, but it was the only way I could possibly make it. “Good heavens, are you still trying to win?” My wife was in the door, doing her best Count Rugan impression from the Princess Bride. I had to laugh. “Want to go out for dinner? Pub?” It did sound good. It was not a good idea, though. “I don’t think I should. If I drink, I’ll lose, and if I don’t drink, Frank will annoy the hell out of me.” She laughed. Frank was the bartender, and as his regulars he felt the need to engage us in conversation. A standing joke was to tell Frank that he needed to shut up or bring us a beer. He’d usually bring us the beer and continue with whatever story he was telling. “We’ll grab a booth.” “No, I shouldn’t go” “I’ll go then. You can have leftovers.” “Well, that’s not fair.” “Come with me then. I really need a glass of wine, and we’re out of white.” “I don’t want another accident in public!” She switch to Black Knight from the The Holy Grail. “What are you going to do, pee on me?” My response was immediate. “I’m invincible!” “You’re looney.” She paused. “What if...” She paused again. “What if I let you wear a diaper, but it wouldn’t count against the bet. Well, the diaper wouldn’t but if you wet it it would. That way you can come with me, you can just have water or whatever, and if you do have an accident no one will know. Except me, of course.” That sounded like a horrible idea, really, but her mind was obviously made up about the pub. At least this way I wouldn’t risk a public accident. I sighed. She took it as acceptance and disappeared briefly, returning with a thin disposable that she handed to me. “Remember, if you wet it, you lose the bet. And you know I’ll check.” I put the diaper on, a onesie to cover it, and we headed to the pub. I only had water, and continued the 15 minute periodic pilgrimage to the to bathroom. Frank only bugged us slightly, especially after I told him that I wasn’t drinking because I had a bad case of whooping west nile virus, cough cough, and alcohol enhanced the transmission rates to ugly bartenders. He laughed, but took the hint and mostly left us alone. I have to say I was somewhat surprised when I managed to make it back home with the stripes still a happy yellow. My wife was in a frisky mood, and I was happy oblige. We started downstairs, but moved upstairs after a while, ending up on the bed in each others arms, both spent, her several times. It was as I was laying there that I felt my wife reach down and pat the mattress, then get up suddenly. “You wet.” “No I didn’t. That’s the wet spot.” “Urm. No. That’s a big pee spot. And you’re dehydrated.” I looked. It was a big spot. A big, clearly dehydrated-pee-yellow spot. That smelled like dehydrated pee. Clearly centered between my legs. “That’s two beds you’ve wet today. And a couch.” She smiled. “You know what that means...” I was stunned. It seemed so anti-climactic, especially after working so hard the last two days to not have a problem. And here I was, laying in my own pee. Again. I was still in my own thoughts as I realized with a sinking feeling that my wife was slipping something around my neck, and before I could react I realized the collar was locked with the tether attached. By the time I tried to sit up, it was too late. “Honey, one more chance. I’m sorry, it was just the sex, and the climax, I mean, you were so wonderful, and I just forgot. Please, give me one more chance.” I tried to sit up again, but the tether kept me on my back. “You lost. Say it with me. Yoooooou Looooooost.” She was definitely gloating, almost doing a little dance. “And here I was almost thinking that giving you that extra strike might have been a bad idea!” “But I’ve been so good, and got so close. C’mon, honey please.” I was whining, and I knew it. She stopped and looked at me, suddenly serious. “How about double or nothing?” I didn’t even hesitate. “Sure. Whatever, please just give me one more chance.” “Are you sure? You don’t even know the terms yet. Are you sure you want to do this?” I paused. She was right. “What are the terms?” She held up the cuffs and chain. “Lets get these on first. I don’t want to have to fight you later.” “Do I have to?” “Yes.” OK, then. If it meant I got another chance, so be it. She made me put the cuffs on myself, their little LEDs indicating that they were not coming off without the right signal. She attached the chain even shorter than usual, giving me just inches of movement. “So, here are the terms. You have until noon tomorrow. Since I don’t think that you’ll be able to make it, you’ll be wearing a diaper until then. If you wet that diaper, even a little, you lose. If you do lose, the trainer goes on until I decide to remove it. I will continue to have full responsibility for your diaper changing, and will be taking more direct control over when you can remove your diapers. You may lose certain other privileges depending on how cooperative you are. Lastly, and most importantly, you’ll become the first subject in Phase II. Do you accept these terms?” “Obvious question... what’s Phase II.” “Well, you’re doing very well I think, and I’ve actually gotten into this whole behavior modification thing. It’s amazing what kinds of changes in a person’s behavior we can cause just with some subtle carrots and sticks that are consistent and automated. It’s a really interesting experiment.” Again, she’s such an engineer. And I’m obviously the test monkey. Guinea pig. Lab rat. She continued, “Officially, the project I’m working on now at work is titled ‘Behavior Modification Through Automated Immediate Stimulus’, which sounds very academic but so far has been sold as looking for better ways to address bedwetting. The stopping of it, normally, but obviously your case is a little different. Phase II is a little more advanced... I will try to address some other behaviors of yours. No, I won’t tell you what.” She smiled sweetly. “How long will it last?” “Until the study is over. When I decide it’s over. I don’t know.” “And if I decline?” “Well, you’ve already lost, so as we agreed when we set up the bet you get another little while on the current program, and we’ll do our best to make your diapers a permanent addition to your wardrobe.” “And if I’m able to make it? What’s your double? A month in diapers for you?” “At this point, you’ve already lost that bet. The upside for you is only that you might not have to wear diapers for the rest of your life. If you make it, I’ll let you out, and maybe even help you by using you in the ‘official’ program to make sure you’re actually dry.” She held all the cards, I realized. The best I could do, I thought, was to try to make it to noon tomorrow. The only way out was if I was actually able to make it. Even if it meant I had to stay up all night. “If I take the bet, will you remove the trainer?” “OK. But the moment you lose it goes back on.” “Can I use the bathroom right now?” “Yes.” “Then I’ll take the bet.” She released the tether and the chain between the collar and cuffs, but of course the collar and cuffs stayed on. I got up, and since I was already naked I made it to the toilet, sat down, and peed. I returned to find my wife in the other room, laying out a diaper. I paused. She looked at me. “I don’t want have to wash the sheets again. If you want another chance, these are the terms.” She pointed at the waiting diaper. I went over and lay down. As she pulled up the thick cloth between my legs and pinned it, I realized that if I did lose, I was giving up the last night without a diaper for what would likely be a long time. After making sure I had on the plastic pants, she retired to her room. I threw a onesie on to hold everything together. Determined to stay up all night, if necessary, I went to my office to work. Every 15 minutes when my phone alarm rang I trekked to the bathroom, unsnapped the onesie, unpinned the pins on one side, peed what I could, and put everything back together. It must have been 4 in the morning when I woke with a start, nearly falling out of my chair. I panicked. Yep, I was wet. Crap. But my wife was asleep! If I simply changed out the diapers before she got up, she’d never know. I wasn’t wearing the trainer, so there was no electronic record of my failings! I just had to make it until noon. The pile of clean diapers was in my room, and I quickly grabbed dry ones, unpinned the wet diapers and re-pinned on the replacements. Now, what to do with the wet ones? It was too loud to run a load of wash right now. I’d have to hide them and wash them later. I got a plastic trash bag, and hid them in my office. I risked a cup of coffee; the risk of falling asleep and peeing again was worse than the risk of the caffeine causing other problems. Soon it was 7 AM, and I heard my wife’s alarm, followed shortly after by the sound of the shower. I started a cup of coffee for her. A few minutes later, she emerged, only a little bleary eyed. “Good morning honey.” The cup of coffee brought a smile to her face. “You look like you stayed up all night. Everything OK?” She looked meaningfully at my diaper. “So far.” She shrugged, and went into her office and closed the door. I figured it was that kind of morning. She stayed there all morning. I heard her on the phone for substantial parts of the morning, and it sounded like she was dealing with a pressing work issue. For my part, I continued using the toilet every 15 minutes, even though the lack of sleep was definitely catching up. At 11:30, though, I figured I had a chance to make it. I had even taken a chance and slipped a load of laundry with the diapers I had wet mixed in with a bunch of clothes. I had managed to get the load washed, dried, folded, and even put away before she emerged from her office at 11:50. She looked harried and annoyed. “Come into the bedroom”, she said quickly, in a way that indicated she was in a hurry and still thinking about something else. I followed behind her. “On the bed, let’s check and see if you’re still dry.” I lay down. This was the moment. I was still dry. She would check, and I would win. I watched her hand go down between my legs and unsnap the onesie. She pulled it up. She started to pull open the top of the plastic pants, when I realized that her other end had just clicked the tether to my collar. Dammit, she was getting good at that. She stepped back, the plastic pants snapping back against my waist. I tried to sit up, but once again I was held on my back, unable to move, by the tether to my neck. She looked at me, clearly disappointed. “I didn’t think you’d make it, but I expected you to try harder than this.” I acted innocent, of course. “What do you mean? It’s still dry!” “Why are you wearing a different diaper than what I put you in last night?” I paused. How to answer this. I didn’t have a good excuse. How did she know? She snickered, reading my mind. “You look like a toddler, there. Laying in a diaper. Trying to think up an excuse. There is only one diaper with a green serge at the top. All the others are blue or pink. You were wearing the green one last night. Now the diaper you’re wearing so proudly has a blue serge thread. Why.” I just looked at her. Why indeed. Busted.... “You could have just taken that one off, put a disposable in it... I can think of a bunch of ways you could have tried to cheat. Not that you would have gotten away with it, but I’m rather unimpressed with your lack of ingenuity. Oh well, come clean. You had an accident, right?” Sigh. “Yes.” “OK, then as we discussed yesterday, you lose the bet, as you know.” She left for a few moments, and then came back. She applied the chain to hold my hands at the collar, and proceeded to remove the plastic pants and unpin the diaper. The familiar trainer was quickly applied. I didn’t fight it. All I could do was watch in resignation. “What’s that?” I asked, as she was putting a thin paper thing on top of the diapers. She slid it under me after asking me to lift up. “Since you lied about when you changed your diapers, I’m going to be determining when and where you get changed. This is to make cleanups easier.” I was still confused. I looked at her. “You’re not going to be able to choose when to use the toilet. You will have to use your diapers for everything. This is to make cleaning your poop easier.” I was horrified. “Honey, I don’t like using my diapers for pooping! I’ve never done that! That’s disgusting!” She laughed. “Well, I’m glad that you accept that you like using your diapers for peeing. But you lied about changing your diapers, and the consequences are that you lose that privilege. The pooping in them is just a side effect. I’m sure it will be unpleasant for both of us.” For some reason I rather doubted that it would be as unpleasant for her as it was for me. She was pulling up the plastic pants, and I realized that the material was much thicker. The waist had a belt, and I was unsurprised as a little LED blinked green as it was closed. I looked at the on the clock on the bedside table. It was 12 noon. A strong shock signalled that it was time to pee. I did. =====

Part 5 Suddenly realising that she had left something on the stove she quickly guided Peter down the stairs and into the kitchen. He sat at the table a little self-conscious. Wearing just his diaper felt strange, he hadn’t even had time to put on a t-shirt before she had rushed from his room. However, as he sat waiting for the meal to be dished out he stroked the new plastic covering. Like the blue pair he’d worn the day before, its slippery smooth, almost silky texture was most pleasant to handle. The bulkiness made him sit higher in his chair but he was cushioned comfortably and any misgivings of his diaper situation seemed to float away as, with each gentle touch, he enjoyed the glossy thrills engulfing his mind and body. Janice had got her way. Without having to do much at all she now had her son shuffling around the house wearing just his thick protection. To her, the memories such a spectacle brought back were most pleasurable. After her husband was no longer with them it was the sheer delight her children gave her that kept her from falling into a deep depression. Dressing up her new infant, whilst keeping her older son entertained, took up all of her time but it stopped her from thinking about her cheating spouse. Thankfully she didn’t transfer any of her hate to her kids like some separated or divorced parents do; she just immersed herself in making sure they were the happiest kids around. For the most part she succeeded but when Damian had started bed-wetting again, and the doctors could find nothing wrong, even though her hubby was around then, she had a slight pang of guilt wondering if it was something she’d done to cause it. However, the doctors said her eldest son was fine so she tried to see it in a positive light which gave her a chance to almost re-baby Damian. Not totally of course but she actually enjoyed all the changing of diapers and getting him suitably wrapped up for bed. A precaution it may have been to begin with but it became a necessity as usually his diaper was wet come morning. She loved all the bustle and cleaning and thought it brought mother and son closer together. Perhaps it was no wonder Damian didn’t stop his bed-wetting until he was fifteen. Damian was so used to wearing diapers for bed that he often wondered around the house in them. His bolstered, waddling bottom never stopped entertaining Janice so those times when little Peter was fast asleep in his bed, she and Damian cuddled on the sofa watching TV, were magic moments and moments that she didn’t realise how much she missed. Now with Peter going through something comparable she jumped at the opportunity to have those times back. Inwardly she prayed that he would wet for quite some time but recognised that such a prayer was being a bit unkind to her son. She was eager for this scene of her heavily diapered son and his shiny plastic cushioned bottom to continue for as long as possible so was determined to make the most of the days, weeks, months or however long it might last. * Peter wasn’t aware of his mother’s fervour for his current situation. He just thought that as she’d been through it before with his brother, therefore she was doing what needed to be done. Despite the thickness that swaddled him as he slept he never once thought it wasn’t needed. If his mother believed that’s what was required then he wasn’t in a position to complain and besides, his mother hadn’t made him feel guilty about wetting the bed at his age. She hadn’t ridiculed or made it an issue; she’d simply taken the precautions to make him safe and dry whilst he slept. He was thankful that he had such a caring mother who wasn’t judgmental like he was sure many of his buddy’s parents would have been. He remembered that Damian had just got on with wearing his diaper on a night, he didn’t recollect him ever worrying or acting up about his situation it was something that just happened. He decided he would adopt his brother’s attitude; react the same way and not let it worry him, although he hoped that his problem would pass a damn sight quicker than his brother’s. However, each morning he woke up and he was wet but on Friday he was both wet and messy. This was a huge dent to his self-image. He had absolutely no idea why he should have pooped his diaper. He could recall no bad dreams or situations, in fact, he’d never slept better, perhaps that was the problem, sleeping too deeply and not knowing when he needed the bathroom. However, that messy realisation had also made him do something he hadn’t experienced since he was a toddler, he cried for his mommy. She was quick to comfort her distraught and confused son but before she set about changing him she held him tightly wanting him to cry away any possible stresses. Janice knew this was a massive deal and would be a huge upset to her twelve year-old son and wanted him to get any and all his pent-up frustrations, anger and emotions out. As he sobbed into her chest she casually patted his cushioned and full bottom, whispering reassuring words and telling him not to worry; mommy was there and she’d make it all right. Perhaps not surprisingly, Peter was exhausted after expressing such deep seated emotions. He had no idea how long he cried for but it seemed an age. He lay docile and sucked on his thumb (something his mother didn’t expect) as she cleaned him up and without thinking re-diapered him. She phoned the school to say he was ill and that he’d be staying home for the day and when she returned Peter was already fast asleep on his bed. Seeing him wearing just the diaper his mother found another pair of new plastic pants and, without disturbing him, snapped them into place. Making sure he was all tucked in and leak-proof she kissed her sweetly slumbering son and gently guided his thumb back between his lips. She exited his room to the sound of soft slurping noises. * Whilst he slept the mailman delivered both the book and new plastic pants that Janice had ordered earlier. She opened the book and found that Diane’s colourful illustrations were just as wonderful as she remembered and she was even happier that both Peter and William had lost none of the childish charm. As the toddler princes took on their adventures she loved that their diapers could be seen under their little tunics. Each bright and lively image showed the boys as they went in search of some treasure; climbing up mountains, crossing streams, fighting with hobgoblins. The stories seemed aimed at children older than toddlers but the vivid images would have been loved by everyone, especially little children who might just have identified with these sweet little heroes. Enthralled, she read the book a few times and as she did so unwrapped the new gold plastic pants. They weren’t quite as shiny as those in the story but they did look thick and well made. As Peter slept on upstairs she began to wonder if perhaps she might be pushing him into an area he wasn’t happy with. So far he hadn’t said anything and appeared to have accepted his diapers without much comment but perhaps this, the golden diaper cover, might be a little too far. Forty minutes later the rustling was the first thing she heard as Peter slowly waddling down from his room, he was still fairly tired but hungry and in search of food. He’d managed to slip on a blue t-shirt but it wasn’t long enough to hide his diaper which hung below. He didn’t appear wet and when his mother asked him he nonchalantly pushed his hand down the front, looked up and confirmed he was dry. For some reason he thought that was some kind of victory and welcomed his mother’s praise as if he was still a toddler. Over milk and sandwiches she asked him if he remembered the dream he’d had of him and William. He nodded and said that he had no idea why he was dreaming about all those years ago but it had been fun. She then produced the book and Peter was completely fascinated. She explained that after he’d told her of his dream she searched to see if Diane had actually produced anything and, guess what, the book was available. Peter’s grin stretched from ear to ear as he slowly turned each page and could hardly believe his mom had discovered what he was convinced was his dream. Like his mother had done he read and reread each page, pointing out to her just how fantastic the artwork was. “You’re a star,” She announced proudly, “My little Peter is in a book, and such a fabulous book.” She ruffled his hair and he loved both the book and the attention from his proud mother. “I wonder if she did any other books… she had a lot of stories…” Peter wondered aloud. “Sorry sweetheart but that was all I could find… and that was published six years ago.” Peter looked disappointed. “However, we can search the internet together as there might be something else that I just haven’t found yet.” He cheered up and went back to reading the book. The pride he felt that she ‘d used the same images as when they had known her all those years ago pleased him and he began to wonder about what William might be up to these days. His mother, taking her cue from his excitement, then produced the golden plastic pants and gently asked him if he wanted to put them on. It was like ten years fell away from him as he eagerly insisted his mum snap them into place. Joyously he paraded around the room in them and, much to his mother’s amusement said that, with the blue t-shirt he was wearing he almost looked like he did in the book. She couldn’t disagree and he spent the rest of the day wearing his golden protection and remembering some of the other stories William’s mom had made up for them. When it came to bed time he was already dressed and didn’t want to change out of his new outfit. His mother smiled to herself and thought how little things had changed over the years because he was just the same when he was two… he knew what he wanted to wear and insisted, even if it meant a little tantrum, to have his own way. * His wetting and occasional messing continued. The most he ever went was three days dry but, just as they thought about putting him back into PJs for the night; he’d have another damp morning that put any such plans on hold. Perhaps the strange truth was that he enjoyed being diapered, even though he couldn’t explain why he wet so much. He wondered if Damian had felt the same and wanted to talk to him next time he came home from Uni, until then, he was happy to spend every night tightly wrapped in a secure diaper and wonderful colourful plastic pants. THE END

I had planned on chapter 10 being at least twice this long by going into what happened but I haven't gotten that half finished. On top of that I have already redone this half so many times. I'll release what I have so far since I did kinda leave it on a cliff hanger last chapter Chapter 10 Warm, clear drool dropped from her chin. Her infantile mind couldn’t understand why smacking one object against another was funny, but she enjoyed it none the less. Blinking at the object in her hand, she realized she knew what it was. Yes it was a shape, she knew which one, just needed to concentrate. Her focused shifted as an all too familiar smell wafted into her nose, instinctually Becky bounced on her bottom, the mushy substance squished inside her diaper. “Poopy!” Giggles emerged from her pacifier, remembering what the thing in her diaper was. While she bounced the realization of the item in her grip was a triangle. Wet, warm liquid touched her inner thigh, she wiped away her own drool before patting her own diaper with the yellow triangle. Finally Becky looked at the item she had been hitting the triangle against and put it through the hole that was made to fit through. Hearing the plastic item hit the bottom caused Becky to giggle again and bounce in her messy diaper. Bouncing caused a feeling of pleasure started to wash over her, she started moving her bottom back and forth on the ground. It started slowly at first and then fast and faster until her infantile mind was assaulted by a body quivering orgasm. Closing her eyes, she fell backwards, still feeling the mess in her diaper. “That felt wonderful,” she thought as her eyes finally opened. She quickly sat up with her diaper squishing under her. She felt like she had just woken up from a rather pleasurable dream. Looking down the brightly colored baby toy were still in front of her, she saw the room was filled with diaper girls. Some had pacifiers in their mouths other were just sucking on their own fingers or their whole hand. Some had a bright pink shirt on some were just topless, but what they all had on was massive D5 diapers, and from one girls back side had bubble letters that’s read PLAYPEN. “I’m in da pwaypen?!” The pacifier in her mouth made talking hard, and for some reason talking felt strange. She pulled the massive pacifier out of her mouth, it felt strange not having it there. How long had she been here? Why was she here? The last thing she could remember was going to work and then… “That Bitch!” She had been injected with something, and Ms. Jones had said something about Lily but that was the last thing she remembered. She rolled herself onto all fours and started crawling to one of the women who was cleaning up. Before Becky could say anything, the women noticed her clawing toward her. “Did Becky make a stinky?” The women didn’t wait for a response, it was clear she didn’t expect one and suddenly pulled back her diaper. “Yep that a big stinky girl you are.” She gave her bottom a few pats making the mess squish under her hand. As much as Becky want to say something rude each pat of her messy bottom had caused pleasure to pulse through her body again. “Well sweetie you can go play, you’re not going to be changed for another two hours.” Without saying anything else the women went back to cleaning. It took Becky a moment, but she was able to shake off the pleasure from her bottom, “Why am I here?” The women stopped for a moment with a confused look on her face. “Did you say something?” “Why am I here?” “Wow,” the women bent down waving her hand in front of Becky’s face. “Is it really you?” “Yes, it’s me!” Feeling frustrated she pulled the women’s hand down. “Why are you waving your hand in my face?” “I can’t believe your back, stay right there I have to go get her.” The women suddenly rand out the door, and with nothing else to do Becky just sat down on her messy diaper again. A few moment later Brianna came running in with tears in her eye. “Becky is it you? Are you really back?” “Did I go somewhere? Why am I in the play- “Brianna hadn’t let her finish before she got on her knees hugging her like old lovers that hadn’t spoken in years. Becky just hugged back and didn’t try to stop Brianna, she just waited. “What’s the last thing you remember? Becky thought for a moment, “I remember being dropped off at work and going in to start testing. Ms. Jones put me back in a D5 diaper and then I felt a sharp prick on my neck. It gets fuzzy from there, I remember she said something about Lily’s mother…” “Kayla Samson,” Brianna finished. Becky was taken aback, “how do you know Lily’s mother?” Brianna just smiled and pointed behind Becky, when she turned she saw two topless diaper girls one with a pacifier in her mouth and the other had no teeth and was drooling all over herself. Becky started for a moment before she realized she was looking at Ms. Jones and Mrs. Samson. “What the hell is going on?” Becky was blown away, it was like she missed the middle of a 3-part story. “It’s a long story, let me change you out of that stinky diaper and I can tell you everything.” The women who had left suddenly stepped forward. “Ma’am she’s registered to the playpen and changing time isn’t for another two hours she can’t be changed until then.” “That’s ridicules she’s- “ “Ma’am are you questioning the Matriarchy?” The question had stopped Brianna dead in her tracks. “No, but she’s not a mindless baby. Look what can I do to have her diaper changed?” The women looked at Becky for a moment. “She's registered to the playpen, so she can’t be changed here. If you want to sign out as her guardian for a day you can do whatever you want once she leaves the building, but she has to be back the day after tomorrow.” “What do I have to sign?” Brianna turned to Becky before she left the room, “I’ll be right back a promise.” After Brianna left Becky figured she would explore the playpen while she was stuck here. Normally when she came she would just come to see Jill and not look around but now it seemed so… familiar to her. Any girl that wasn’t sucking on a pacifier clearly didn’t have any teeth, it wasn’t something she had noticed much before. Becky found herself crawling over Jill who had found the plastic toy she had been playing with before. Sitting in front of Jill she picks up another colorful plastic item and went to put it in the hole. She wasn’t sure why but this time it wouldn’t go in the like the last one did. She banged it against the plastic hole a few times, but it didn’t go in. As she was doing this her tummy started to rumble and a wet fart escaped her bottom and she felt a little more mess was added to her diaper. She found herself giggling, she couldn’t remember what the sound was, but it was funny and made a funny smell. She bounced on her bottom mindlessly shoving the plastic item into her mouth. She heard someone speaking but she was too focused on the taste of the object in the mouth. A hand gripped her chin and faced her head to turn, a beautiful looking woman was staring at her. It was a face of concern and fear, but more then that it was a face she recognized. The woman was speaking but Becky couldn’t understand, she found herself focusing on her lips until suddenly she understood. “Please Becky, come back.!” Becky found herself blinking several times in rapid secession, she pulled the chunk of plastic out of her mouth. “Brianna? What just happened?” Brianna wrapped her arms around Becky so hard it made it hard to breath. “I was gone a few minutes and when I came back you were like a baby again. What happened?” Brianna was looking at the playpen employee with her question. She however was just shaking her head. “I don’t have a clue. The drugs we use to regress people sent here have no cure, this might be a side effect of whatever they used.” Brianna and the women worked together to help Brianna stand long enough to put her in a strange wheelchair/stroller hybrid. Brianna seemed shaken by the whole event and Becky was more confused. Brianna was busy buckling her into her seat as Becky found her moving like she was chewing on something. The women who worked her seemed to understand and she picked up the pacifier Becky had dropped and shoved it in her mouth again. Becky wanted to spit it out but found herself sucking on it uncontrollably, like it was something she always did. “Does she really need that?” “She’s had it since she arrived, you saw what she was doing. It might take time to wing her off the pacifier.” After she finished with the buckles Brianna stood up straight to look at the employee. “She’s not a baby!” The kindness in her face and voice had been replaced by a hard sharpness that she had only seen a few times before at work when she was extremely mad. The other women didn’t seem to care for the confrontation or the statement Brianna opinion. “Just have her back day after tomorrow. As long as she is registered here she’ll be treated like anyone else.” Though the pacifier in her mouth was helping her feel clam the idea of returning to this place made her feel uneasy. Becky was pushed out the door and through the building until they went through the front door. She didn’t say anything as Brianna help her into the front seat of her car and the moved to put the large stroller into the trunk. Brianna got into the drivers seat but quickly rolled down her window, the smell coming from Becky’s diaper seemed much worse in such a small space. As they started their drive to wherever they were going Becky was going over everything again, she there was clearly a gap of time had passed. “How long was I in there?” Brianna took her eyes off the road for a moment to give Becky a sad glance, “It was getting close to three months.” “THREE MONTHS!?”

34.) "I'm almost there, don't you worry. Your Daddy called me and let me know you were having a bad day, so I'm going to take care of you today. I'll talk to you soon." Ginger didn't leave much option for argument or complaint, that was for sure. "I don't need--" But she'd hung up. It was only fifteen minutes after I gave Remy the keys back. I had managed to calm down enough to call Ginger. She still hadn't replied to my text from yesterday. I still wasn't completely sure what happened was a dream. But it had to be a dream! It just had to be. I tore off the pull-up and threw it away, burying it deep in the bottom of the trash can, along with that horrible pink strawberry dress. I shut my bedroom door, where the sheets had been removed from my bed. I changed my clothes, even though the clothes I was wearing were fine. I was a ball of anxiety with Ginger knocked on my door. I didn't want to answer. I couldn't do this right now! I just wanted everyone to leave me alone! "Come on now, let me in, I know you're in there." Ginger did have her own key, but she really wanted Wednesday to answer the door voluntarily; it would help drive things forward from here. Honestly, she'd expected the girl to breakdown a lot earlier than this, so this wasn't any big deal. I opened the door. Ginger closed it behind her. I looked up at her with frustration, like I was mad at her or something, but I wasn't. I was just confused. I went back to the kitchen to wash the dishes from breakfast. I was doing anything I could to keep from thinking about last night, thinking about today... "I don't need you to be here with me," I told her simply. "I can take care of myself." "I believe you, you're very independent for a girl your age, and we're all really proud of you." That statement she got away with, but Ginger didn't push. "Tell me what's going on, let me help you, okay? I'm like a Mom to you recently, so let me help out." I slammed the dish down in the sink and the sound of shattering glass rang through the kitchen. Fuck. I hadn't meant to do that... "It's... everything. It's wrong! It's all wrong! A month ago, all this was normal! Remy wasn't trying to make me dress like a little girl and I didn't call him Daddy and I never fucking wanted to! And now everything is messed up and I..." I held my hair in my hands. "It's all wrong. Something is wrong. I just don't know what. And it's... it's infuriating me. I'm furious about it!" "You're furious at the man you love, for entrusting you with his secrets? That doesn't sound like the Wednesday I know now, does it? You're much kinder than that, and much more gentle. Let's finish the dishes later, come sit on the sofa with me, alright? We can play therapist." "See! You say things like that! And part if me just wants to hit you! I just hate you so much for saying it! And the other part knows you're right! And I don't..." She took my hand and I tugged away from her, on instinct. But when she left the room, so did I. I sat next to her on the sofa, balling my hands in fists in my lap. "You said I don't sound like the Wednesday you know. Well I don't feel like the Wednesday you know either! I don't... feel... right..." "You feel different? Is different a bad thing, would you say? Do you think you feel worse, or just different?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully and waited for a response; she wanted her little project here to dig deep inside of her for answers. And then, any answers that were incorrect would be corrected by Ginger. I bit my lip and looked up at Ginger. Part of me wanted to climb onto her lap and have her hold me. Part of me wanted her to make it all better. I knew she could. She had a magic power. But there was another part of me and that part was winning out. A part of me that thought... "I think... this might be your fault," I mumbled. "I don't know how. And I don't know why... but... this is your fault, isn't it?" I looked up at Ginger in bewilderment, like I didn't believe the things I was saying. But when I said the words, suddenly, I knew they were true. Pieces were coming together. Every mystery of the past month was answered perfectly by her. "It is, yes, but you won't remember knowing that." Her answer was candid, honest, and bold; she didn't seem surprised at all to have that accusation leveled at her, and truthfully she was actually pretty happy that Wendy had revealed that loose thread so soon for her to hide away. At any point she could click her fingers three times and drop Wendy into a deep as night trance space. At any point she could make her forget this conversation, and her realization. I stared at her. Blankly. She... admitted it? My mouth was wide open. Shocked. Appalled! But a part of me had always known... "Y-you... you want... Remy?" She nodded her head. "I... I don't understand. I thought you liked me? I... I don't understand any of this." But I did. She was using me. She was changing me. Was she changing Remy? But how? She couldn't just... wait no. She was a hypnotist. But I never-- the MP3 players. Remy working late. I didn't... I didn't understand just one thing... "Why...?" "Because you're awful for him. You're an awful, selfish, needy person, who doesn't ever put him first. You hold him back; he turned down three promotions because of you. His career is at a standstill because of you. And you're not without potential; you're impulsive, clingy, needy... you need nurturing. You're a child, Wednesday. And as you refused to give him any, it seems fitting to... restructure things." "...this is about not wanting to have kids?" I was... I was at a complete loss for words. I... "I said I would... I told him I would! I am not a child! And I'm not awful for him! I love him! And I am not letting you do this to us! I am his fiancée! I am going to be his wife, Ginger! And you are never going to keep us apart you fucked up basketcase!" I had stood up. I was on my feet without thinking. My phone was in the kitchen, on the counter. I had to tell him. I had to tell Remy. I ran out of the room, but before I could get my phone, Ginger spun me around. "You're happier this way, Wendy. I'm doing this for you, as well. I promise. I'm not an awful person, and you're not either. You just need some help." She could have clicked her fingers at any time, and still she would, but Ginger honestly wanted to see if any of this had sunk in with her little project. "I am not happier! And you are an awful person!" I reached for the phone again but she held my hands firmly in front of me. I struggled to pull away but she didn't let go. I kicked at her thighs, but she hardly flinched. I was scared. I was out of breath. "You. Are. Evil. And you won't win. I'm telling him everything. I'm telling him what you are, what you did to us! He won't ever talk to you again!" "Do you think that will make him happy? Or do you think he'll just think you're continuing your tantrum?" Because she wet the bed and leaked, because she refused to leave the house, because she screamed out Daddy in the hall. This was all simple facts that Ginger knew. "He's happy now, he's happy for the first time. He feels like he knows you, he feels like you love him. Are you going to take that away from him? Will you be so selfish?" I opened my mouth to argue, but I shook my head instead. I... I wasn't winning this fight. Everything she said had two sides. A side that made sense and a side that didn't. The side that made sense was fake. It was made up. But it was a very strong side... "I.. I'm..." "You're Mommy and Daddy's little girl." My stomach flipped at the words. Butterflies. I struggled in her arms. "Stop it... stop right now! Let me go!" "You love Daddy, and you want him to be happy. You love Mommy, too, and you want to be our little girl. We're going to be a family, Frosty, we're going to be a family and we're going to see the world together, the three of us. You're going to wear the prettiest dresses, and you're going to have all the toys you could ever want. No responsibilities, no worries or cares... just cute clothes and thick padding between your legs... happiness and crayons." Everything was muddled. I knew it was getting worse. She shouldn't have come. I should never have let her in. I was only now noticing my mistake, but it was too late. She let go of my wrists, but I didn't reach for my phone again. I was shaking. "Y-you're not gonna get away with this," I mumbled quietly. "I'll tell him.. tell everyone... you'll go to jail, or... or..." "You wouldn't want Mommy to go away, would you? Mommy knows best, little Frosty, and you love Mommy, right? You love Mommy." She paused for a moment. "Say it. Tell me how much you love me, be a good girl. It only makes sense, doesn't it? It makes sense to you, don't fight it." Don't fight it. I'm happy when I don't fight it, I remembered. I remembered last night, when I let Daddy take care of me. But no, this was different... this was... I shoved Ginger off me, which took a lot more energy out of me than I'd ever want to admit. I grabbed my cell phone and opened a text with Remy. "She's manip--" Ginger clicked her fingers in rhythm, and the phone dropped from the girl’s hand, landing on the floor with a sickening crunch. Not to worry, though; girls her age didn't need a phone, right? Her arms were limp, and Ginger spoke very slowly and clearly. "It's time to let go. You're a little girl, Wendy, you always will be. You want Daddy and Mommy to be happy, you love them more than anything. You obey them both. You're sweet and cute, you never want to change. You wear diapers to bed because you wet the bed every night, and pull-ups the rest of the time because accidents happen. Wendy, you tried to pretend to be an adult, but the game is over now. You'll never try again... you just want Mommy and Daddy to get married, so we can all live happily ever after." ~~~ Please continue on in this thread to read Small Frosty: Intermission! ~~~ Small Frosty Pt. 1 is available on our Patreon in ePub and PDF format! Please consider supporting us! And special thanks to all our commenters and readers! You guys are amazing. More Frosty will be coming your way in the near future, and it will DEFINITELY make up for the lack of diapers in this one.

This little short was based on this picture over at tumblr (warning: messy), and is set in Princess Pottypants' fantastic Diaper Dimension universe. *** Anna stood frozen with one foot on the first step, looking up and steeling herself. "Okay, I can do this," she scowled, taking a deep breath, and then moved to the second. An uncomfortable shift of her underwear caused Anna to wince, grabbing the halfway-high-handrail designed for amazon kids and littles, and she paused immediately, staring up at the 4 stories of zigzagging steps which she still had left to go. Dammit, why had she bought an expensive penthouse on the top floor? Her chest pounding, she slowly tried to piece together exactly what had happened, just what had resulted in her - quite literally - crappy situation. It had surely been Kirsten, that mid-sized bitch at work. It must have been. She'd been after the same client contract who Anna needed to give the presentation to this afternoon, and if Anna was somehow out of the picture, to say, not return to the office after her long lunch break, well, Kirsten would just have to take over, wouldn't she? The higher ups would commend her for it, and simultaneously be displeased with the shorter woman in the process. The little scowled, and realised now that she should have known better than to accept a morning cup of coffee from her rival. If it wasn't laxatives, it was something close, something which resulted in a thick but entirely sudden and uncontrollable mess entering her panties, six blocks from home too. It was just lucky that she'd been checking in on her dry-cleaning. Didn't the mid-sized Kirsten know what messed pants could result in for a little in their world? Well, perhaps she did, and had been intending it in fact. Well, Anna thought desperately, she just had to get back to her apartment, get changed, and get back to the office like nothing had ever happened. Kirsten would never count on that, and would be left rather baffled by the inexplicable perfection of Anna's appearance after work. Anna moved another foot forward, and the third step squeaked ominously. It was going to be a hell of a climb, she realised with a sigh, her panties drooping heavily. Every step would pull the already tight panties even tighter, lifting her thighs each time, and she'd worn a damn short skirt today in the hope of impressing the potential client. "Just go," she growled. Another step, another damn squish of her underwear. "Anna!" a voice suddenly called from ahead, and the little looked up in nervous surprise. It was Mrs Paddon, the amazon giantess who lived on the first floor, and she was standing in front of her wide open doorway sorting through mail. "What are you doing home at this hour?" the giantess asked with concern, giving an almost knowing look which made Anna tremble. "Is something wrong?" Anna smiled sweetly, presenting a facade of false bravado in an attempt to not give the giantess any suspicions. "Nothing at all Mrs P, I just have to pick some things up for work." Anna's gaze travelled past Mrs Paddon and settled on the playpen inside the apartment, before quickly travelling back at the giantess's face and again giving her most confident smile. Inside, Mrs P's first grade daughter was playing loudly, calling out some fact about animals to her mother, and the playpen sitting in the living room there had once been hers. Had being the operative word. Anna knew full well that a little woman now resided within Mrs Paddon's apartment, heavily diapered and likely sitting in that playpen right now. As a busy career woman, Anna didn't much stick her nose in it, nor question it. She'd often seen the woman in passing through Mrs P's open door was all. Sometimes in a stroller out on the street, or sitting in the giantess's arms on the stairwell. The woman was usually dressed immaculately as a frilly dolly most of the time, albeit with a disposable diaper drooping between her legs when often not wearing the frilled diaper panties. Hell, Anna had even seen the huge overflowing bags of messy disposable diapers in Mrs P's bin outside, but knew not to question it. She'd sometimes heard the lectures and spankings when walking past after all, even sometimes from her own penthouse on the fourth floor, and just tried to ignore it, knowing that the woman had been living with Mrs Paddon for nearly 6 months now, and that Anna didn't need to know why. She liked to presume that somehow the woman had deserved it, and left it at that. Still, she gulped and smiled at Mrs Paddon now, knowing full well how her messy panties would be received, and resolved to waiting until the woman went back inside, no longer being in a position to get a good view of Anna from behind as she ascended the stairs. Thankfully, the woman seemingly got bored of the little in the hall, focusing on her mail and walking inside, closing the door behind her. The coast clear, the messy little pressed on. "Anna!" a voice called up ahead, and she glanced up in growing frustration to see Luke, guiding delivery men into his second story apart. He was one of the gay giant couple who lived there, and his husband Gary, it turned out, was just inside guiding the two delivery men with the large flat carboard boxes. Anna paused, knowing that she couldn't very well pass further up while they were there - not in her short skirt with the state of her underpants being as they were... "H-Hey Luke," she managed weakly, leaning against the handrail and trying to act casual, unable to help noticing the giant's rippling gym-sculpted physique through his stylish casual shirt. "W-What are you guys getting delivered?" He beamed. "Oh it's just wonderful. It's a crib, and baby furniture - we've decided to adopt! A baby girl in fact. We were babysitting a little one for a woman below you see, and, let's just say that Gary and I realised that we'd make excellent daddies! We have the most wonderful eye for fashion - already have a whole closet picked out for her in fact, when we find her - and learned the other night that going to the gym makes for an excellent spanking arm, enough to put a child in her place almost right away with even just a glance." He suddenly chuckled. "Hey, you're about the right size in fact, if you ever wanted to model her fashionable parade of... Say, are you alright? You look a little ill..." Anna stood, pale, feeling cold. "N-No, I'm perfectly okay," she lied, edging towards the next stair. "Are you sure?" he asked, "You look a little sick. Maybe you should come inside and sit down for a moment. We could do a little check up on you. Gary is a doctor you know?" She smiled and shook her head, feeling cold sweat prickling her back. If they found out... Well, she was sure that they'd decide that they'd found their baby girl... She could already see herself getting dropped off at daycare by the pair, sitting in their stroller while they went to the park together... Her two daddies pushing... Laying trapped in her crib while hearing them making love... "I-I'm late for work," she lied badly, "Just have to pick something up." And with that she began edging towards the next flight of stairs, walking up backwards and smiling down awkwardly at him, while he looked up at her with concern painted on his face. She was almost at the third floor when she heard a digital camera shutter from behind her. She whirled, finding herself looking at two giant teen schoolgirls sitting in the hall, who looked on the verge of laughing. What had probably just been a momentary private teen conversation while browsing phones in the hall had just turned into a sudden perfect camera opportunity. "Well would you look at that," the large resident teen smirked, the one who Anna knew lived below her, though for the life of her never knew the girl's name. "I think I saw a little surprise," remarked the other, shaking her head in apparent disappointment. Anna watched with a sudden chill as the teen yawned and stretched out her long legs across the hall, effectively blocking the rest of the way. "You know," the resident teen began, "I've always wanted to live in the penthouse upstairs." Her friend nodded, seemingly intent on listening to whatever fascinating story the local teen had to offer. "My Mom did too. Put in an application there in fact, but was somehow outbid, by a little of all things, if you'd believe it. It's a big-sized penthouse, and this little one is up there with ladders and stools, clomping about all night long, clomp clomp clomp. Living in somewhere clearly not suitable to her size, all so she can imagine what it's like to live as an adult, I suspect." The friend shook her head sadly. "But you're not an adult, are you?" the teen suddenly asked with a chilling jeer, eyeing Anna sternly, a look which sent her cold. Anna stood on the verge of trembling, the heavy weight in her panties feeling ever more present with each quiet embarrassing moment. "I don't-..." she began, not knowing what to say. "I am an ad-" The teen suddenly perked up with a smile. "Fortunately, you don't have to answer!" "I don't?" Anna asked hopefully. "No, of course not," the teen replied happily, "I know just who we can ask to decide!" Suddenly the teen was up, gripping Anna's wrist, and with her friend not far behind, the little found herself being marched into the third floor apartment. "MOM!" the teen bellowed, marching in at a pace that Anna found herself barely able to keep up with. "MOM!" the teen called again, "The little from upstairs needs your opinion on something, we need a grownup opinion. She messed herself!" "She did WHAT?" a voice suddenly shrieked, and a moment later loud footsteps thundered their way through the apartment. Anna stood trembling, her wrist held inescapably tight in the giant teenager's hand. A huge curvy middle-aged woman stormed into the room a moment later, her face a harsh scowl, which quickly settled on Anna in the schoolgirl's grip. "She didn't know if she was a grownup," the daughter explained with a sighing shrug. "Perhaps another grownup could check and decide." Suddenly the giant mother was crouching down and whirling Anna about with two hands on her shoulders, one immediately going to the skirt and giving a hard tug. "Oh my GOODNESS!" the woman nearly shrieked, delivering a hard smack to Anna's rear above the lower mess of her panties, getting a sudden shriek out of the small working woman, who already knew that her working days were over. "Jessica, you were babysitting tonight, don't you? Go to your room and get me one of those diapers, we need to get this little brat into some protection immediately. For the apartment if nothing else." "Sure thing Mom," the teen grinned, stepping into a door down the hall and returning a flash later with a big disposable diaper in her hands. It was a real kid's diaper, giant sized, and Anna could only stare at it while a growing numb realization inside. "You two get this one diapered up immediately," the mother barked, "Over her panties, I don't want to deal with those right now while we don't have a method of binning them yet. And get the phone," she added, "I need to call the building's corporation to discuss cleanliness codes, and those broken by the little one who lives upstairs. Though not for much longer, I should think, at least not as the official owner of the apartment." The daughter nodded, and with that the triumphant smiling teen handed the diaper to her friend, and went to fetch the phone. Anna stood stunned, realising that she was never going to make it up the stairs in the first place, it just wasn't the nature of their world. "And bring me something to spank her with," the mother barked, "I'm going to teach her not to buy adult-sized upstairs apartments where she clumps around all night." **Epilogue** Anna awoke to the sound of morning traffic, and stretched out in a stretching yawn until she hit the familiar bars of her crib. Blinking, she sucked hard at her ever-present pacifier, and brought a mittened hand up to her eyes to wipe the sleepiness away. The thick pink sleeper onesie unfortunately didn't give her much to work with, only a clumsy padded fist, but she rubbed until her vision came into focus, and then sat to the sound of a squish. Well, she was very wet, as usual, but at least her diaper wasn't messy. Those mornings were the worst, Mommy sometimes didn't change her till after breakfast, until Jessica had gone to school in fact. It had been hard getting used to the concept of having a big sister who still went to school, especially one who was nearly ten years younger than she herself was. But over the past six months, sitting in her highchair, Anna had learned to obediently give her sister a goodbye kiss on the cheek each morning before the teen left, and was beginning to thoroughly understand her new place in her family. The teenager and her friends had changed her enough times to remove any sense of modesty or superiority anyway, and Anna found herself sitting in her highchair after breakfast staring at her big sister in awe, already finding it hard to believe that she herself had ever had that much freedom, finding teenagehood a rapidly blurring accomplishment. Well, at least from her highchair, she still got her penthouse views from the squat apartment building, she thought with a smirk. Mommy entered, swiping on the kid's music box as she went. Anna looked over in surprise as the nursery tunes started playing, realising that she'd been daydreaming and hadn't even noticed the woman come in. Two huge hands came down to lift her up, raising her until she saw a triumphant middle-aged face smiling at her - a face which had never stopped looking that way once in the last six months. "Hello babykins," the huge woman cooed, moving a hand under Anna's sopping wet diaper to hold her. "Are you ready for your numnums?" Anna just nodded numbly and didn't know why she bothered to respond, it was a rhetorical question as with how most people talked to her now days. Women at the park asking if she was the cutest, shop assistants in the toy stores cooing and asking if she was the happiest as she held her new Mrs Molly doll. She just leaned passively against the woman's giant well-endowed chest, and waited as they went over to the regular chair where Mommy began the mornings, watching as the giant began to pull up her top. Hot and salty gushing breastmilk was the first order on today's menu, as always, and Anna only stared in momentary bewilderment at the giant nipple and even larger breast appeared before her, before taking to sucking obediently. It was remarkable, she thought in sudden surprise, just how many women's nipples she'd suckled from over the past half year. There was her Mommy, then Mrs Paddon downstairs, when she visited her new playmate Rosemary on the first floor, the one who she used to ignore, to barely glance at the stacked dirty diapers of. Then there were the daycare workers, and there was even the visiting wetnurse when she visited the three little women who Mr & Mr Stevenson downstairs had adopted. Hell, even a few of her own babysitters would pull up their top and... "Other side!" Mommy instructed, and Anna shifted about in her squishing wet diaper, realising that a messing had started without her even noticing it. Well, she wasn't likely going to last until after breakfast anyway, she thought in resignation, as the expanding soft warmth filled the back of her diaper. Hell, she couldn't even make it up the stairs that time, when she had first pooped herself. Oh she'd tried to insist that it had been a laxative, they'd even gone to the family court over it to hand over her apartment ownership, but the grownups were having none of it, and they had spanked the naughty lies and excuses right out of her. They'd at least investigated Kirsten, and found her reportedly suspicious and with a bad attitude, sending her off to a strict diapered boarding school last Anna had heard. But the messing, that was none of Kirsten's doing, they'd determined. No, while she still had her doubts, she mostly knew for a fact now that she'd messed all by herself that day, and that it had, in the end, just been a sign that she'd needed to be in diapers all along.

The Happy Family (A Diaper Dimension Tale) Mommy spotted an unoccupied park bench beside the narrow walking track, and, deciding that it was perfect, she primped out her 1950s-style housewife dress and walked over to sit down. The park wasn't particularly busy right now - it was only mid-morning on a Wednesday after all - but the current little corner was particularly quiet, and was the perfect place to do her reading. Snapping open her large purse, she slid out the heavy parenting manual within, then pushed the stroller to one side - facing it away so that she could still hold one handle - and began to rock it gently, pushing it back and forth ever so slowly. From within her purse, a few spare disposable diapers threatened to spill out alongside the book, and Mommy swiftly caught them and pushed the whole mess back down, scowling and thinking that she'd have to get a proper diaper bag soon. The giantess noted with a frown that there were some adult clothes in her purse too - albeit of little size - and she realized that she could really get rid of those now, they wouldn't be needed anymore, especially those black panties. A sudden kick came from the front of the stroller, the side facing away, and Mommy scowled at the back of the seat. "What did I tell you about behaving?" she warned, "Do we need to have more spankings already?" The struggling ceased, and Mommy waited in a warning silence for a moment longer, before finally resuming her gentle rocking of the stroller, pushing it back and forth, a motion which should calm down even the most disagreeable of young ladies. Perhaps it had just been about testing whether she was actually still there. Flicking open her newly purchased parenting manual, the stern giantess began browsing through the table of contents, nodding in approval at what she saw. Much of it was obvious, but some parts were already standing out. There was a chapter on nutritional balance in meals, another on inducing lactation, and another on the benefits of cloth & plastic pants versus disposables. Well, she'd already bought both, and right now the nice people from the Happy Family Store would be delivering them and setting things up in her home. Still, there was more, a chapter on how all littles regardless of station or age were realistically little better than babies, and comments on how nobody would question if somebody were to treat one as such, deciding that they inherently needed it. Part of being a good parent, the guide said, was knowing what was best for little ones, even when they disagreed. Patting footsteps approached, and Mommy looked up to see a jogger approaching, an athletic-looking betweener-sized college girl, wearing a midriff-baring jogging suit comprised of a spandex tank-top and mid-thigh tight black pants. Mommy wondered if the girl was aware of how translucent her pants had become from her sweat, and whether she knew that the pink princess pullup was nearly entirely visible. Mommy suspected not, given the confident swagger which the girl moved with. The young jogger stopped in front of the stroller, grinning, and crouched down to make silly faces and cooing baby noises on the other side, rhetorically asking who was just the cutest, and reaching in to pinch cheeks. Mommy couldn't help but smile, though also found herself fighting a desire to walk over there and check the college woman's pullup. No matter, there was probably a dorm matron waiting for the girl back at campus, who would point out just how visible her pink princess-themed pullups had been the entire time when she returned. Finally the jogger stood and moved back onto the path to resume her run, only for Mommy to reach out and grab hold of her wrist. Not even bothering to explain herself, the giantess simply reached over to yank the girl's black pants down, lifting a hand between the student's legs, and hearing a faint telltale squelch as she pushed. "Here," she snorted, thrusting one of the larger disposables from her purse forward, "You may need this." The young girl yanked up her pants in a frenzy and glanced down, her eyes growing wide as she realized how transparent the pants were, her face turning every shade of pink. In the inescapable amazon's grip, she had no choice but to reach over and accept the white diaper, rushing off a moment later with the disposable clutched to her stomach, unable to even drop it in the park with a lack of trash cans around - not unless she wanted to risk a misdemeanor notice for littering, and the likely boarding school sentence which would follow. Mommy sighed and shook her head, glancing back down at her parenting manual. The betweener sized folk sometimes stood a chance, but the littles were near useless. The book was stating that exact same thing, and Mommy nodded in firm agreement. Why, just that morning she'd been shopping at the Happy Family Store, and had overheard a little family arguing - a mother and teen daughter - over clothing of all things. The nineteen year old wanted to expand her goth look, but the mother was berating her, pointing towards something more formal like what she wore to work. Well, Mommy hadn't listened to their whining and arguing for long, marching into that little corner and taking true control. They'd both gone over her knee at once, each in squealing confusion and outrage, and Mommy had bared their bottoms to introduce them to how a real parent took charge. The little mother had obviously not been capable of handling her own daughter, little better than an overdressed child herself, and now the two sat strapped and gagged in the front of the double seated stroller, wriggling but finding their situation helpless. Mommy had set down the law of how they should be properly dressed in no time, getting each into nice thick disposables and denim overall dresses in a life-changing transformative flash. After hearing all that mutual arguing and whining in the store, she'd known straight away that neither was ready for anything more than the very basics - how could a baby mother raise anything but a baby daughter after all? No, she'd gotten them frilly trimmed denim dresses which rode up on the back, giving a clear view of the disposables when they waddled, and Mommy already knew that these two would need such a window for frequent checking, given their apparent lack of maturity displayed in the store. Musing over how nice the workers at the Happy Family Store had been, offering to deliver two cribs, highchairs, a playpen, wardrobes, stacks of diapers, and a changing table, Mommy was suddenly interrupted in her thinking by a loud reluctant fart from the front of the stroller. The giantess slowed her rocking slightly, hearing a horrified moan against a strapped-on pacifier gag, and gave a cold nod of approval. "Yes, that's right dear," she cooed, thinking that it didn't matter which she was talking to, "The enemas are coming through, and are going to teach both of you what it means to be starting over from basics." The panting moaning and loud wet farting increased, and the giantess continued her gentle pushing of the stroller, realizing that that was going to be one very full diaper. "It's okay," she cooed, "Mommy will change your diapers later today, probably before bed tonight. At least, if you're both well behaved angels until then. This is for your own good sweethearts, and in time you'll both come to understand that. Why, in a few years, we may even be able to enroll you at a local daycare school, while Mommy helps you grow up all over again - properly this time. Won't that be fun!" As if in answer, another loud series of desperate farts began, and Mommy smiled, resuming her gentle rocking of the stroller, back and forth. She knew then that they were going to be a happy family indeed, just as the title of the store had promised when she went shopping there, finding littles lured into the rather private little clothing section for just that, conveniently arranged into size, gender, and lifestyle, and she wondered how many other happy families the chain store had made.

Aaaand I just made another short cap -

I'm open to any questions or just stop by to say hello. Apologies if I come off so up front, my Aspergers may cause me to be so

wow, I can't believe what I have just read in the p.d.f. posted it makes great sense to me. But I achieved a true state of incontinence after 6 months just using a catheter. I must admit it did cost me a fair bit of money buying cranberry juice (1 litre per day for the whole of the 6 months) to reduce the risk of infection, but honestly after 6 months and 6 catheters I finally took out the 6Th catheter and I am truly incontinent. It was a bit weird and distressing at first thinking oh boy what have I done to myself because all of time I had the cath in I thought that I was in control and I could revert back just by taking the cath out. It took me a couple of days to talk myself around to thinking this is what I wanted to achieve and here it is, now stop being silly, I haven't looked back. I have tried to stop my pee from flowing but it is no use, it will now take quite some time to retrain my bladder. I don't pee like I used to it now constantly trickles out drip after drip. If you are going to try the 12 month plan, then all I can say is good luck and let us know what the results are.