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It was another month before they got an new message. Surprisingly, it was met with more groans than when they had received the one from Oz. They were sitting around the base just after dinner when Happy informed them they had a visitor at the gates. Rain had been sitting around in a simple shirt and her diaper. Everyone knew anyway, and with all of them living so close together, everyone had seen them at one point or the other. She watched from the door as Miles and Gabriel met the messenger. The man was dressed in thin, brown clothing, and he only spoke a few words before running off. Miles was running his hands through his hair, looking hesitant to deliver the message. That was never a good sign. She followed him to the training yard, where Miyuki was “teaching” Rocco some of her moves. Rain knew from experience how painful those lessons could be. To his credit, Rocco gave back as good as he got. Though less disciplined, he had a more rough and tumble style that was still effective. They stopped as Miles approached, and Tali had followed as well to hear the news. Miles sighed as he reached them. “We've…..been summoned.” A collective groan ensued, and Rain couldn’t help but chuckle at how the team seemed to dislike so many of their clients. Rocco cursed and Tali shook her head in denial. Miyuki had gone nearly rigid, frozen in place with a look Rain had never seen in her companion, but she couldn’t say what it was. “Anybody want to fill me in? Who has summoned us, and why do you all look like a brahmin took a dump in your Sugar Bombs?” Miles scratched his chin idly. “The Oro Tribe. They're a major power around here. Between their tribe, and those that swear fealty to them, they can host a sizable force. They are not to be trifled with.” “Plus they're cannibals.” Rocco added, pretending to bite Miyuki’s arm. She yanked her arm away and turned her back, looking more unsettled with every moment. Rain felt herself pale at the thought. “We're going to go to a tribe of cannibals?! To do what, help them?” The idea of walking into a camp full of cannibals did not appeal to her. Tali rolled her eyes. “They aren’t cannibals….not exactly. They practice a ritual form of cannibalism, on their enemies.” “Do they have a lot of enemies?” Rain asked quietly. “Not really……not anymore. There's always troublemakers, people who want to test the boundaries. It doesn’t end well for them. The Oro pride themselves on……problem solving. If they called us, we have to go. They don’t take rejection well, and believe me, we don’t them coming to us.” “We've worked with them before. They are a matriarchal society. All power lies in the oldest female of the ruling family, who they believe carries the essence of their goddess. When she passes, the power goes to the next in line.” “What’s old Lady Oro’s heir’s name again? Its her granddaughter right?” Rocco pondered. “Miyuki? Do you remember?” He had a wolfish grin on his face, but Miyuki wasn’t laughing. She glared at him angrily, but still managed to squeak out a reply. “Her name is Surra. You know that. Her two brothers are Arax and Hanno.” “Oh, that's right. Well, like Tali said, we have to go. It will be a thoroughly unpleasant experience for all of us.” Rocco said. “Especially me, but not so much for some people, right Miyuki?” To Rain’s surprise, the beautiful Asian actually blushed, and she gave one final frustrated look before she stormed off. Rocco watched her leave with a look of triumph. There was an awkward silence among the group after she left that Rain couldn’t stand. “Uh….so why is it going to be so awful for you, Rocco?” She asked finally. “Well, Lady Oro is of the belief that ghouls aren't people, but ghosts. She thinks acknowledging my presence will invite evil spirits or some bullshit like that. I find the idea just a bit insulting. It is a little funny though. Wait and see, she won’t react to anything I do.” Miles put a hand on her shoulder. “Just stay close and be careful. Lady Oro is….different, and Surra and Arax love to fight.” Rocco scoffed. “The whole bloody tribe loves to fight, bunch of bloodthirsty savages. Goddamn, this is gonna suck.” “We leave tomorrow.” Miles said, sparing a glance at Rain and smiling. “You look pretty soaked, kiddo. Have Tali change you and then get packed. Pretty bold by the way, walking outside like that.” Rain froze and realized she was still in just a diaper, out in the open. Anyone passing by the compound would be able to see her! With a squeak of terror, she bolted as fast as she could back to the safety of the inside. She could hear Tali and Miles laughing, but she didn't care. “I'll be in to change you in a few minutes!” Tali yelled after her, amusement in her voice. She had almost made it back to the safety of her room, when Mr. Happy blocked her way. The hallway was small, and the Mr. Gutsy was hovering right down the middle. When she tried to go around him, he moved to block her again. She was uncomfortable around the robot anyway, and seeing as how she was unarmed, his silent hovering made her more nervous. “Miss Rain, might I inquire as to what the ruckus is all about?” “Ummm….I guess we got a job. From some tribe of cannibals. Miyuki seemed freaked out.” “The Oro?” Oh, capital! I hope I get to go this time! Seeing Miss Surra is always such a delight.” Rain could feel her jaw drop. “You're telling me there’s actually a human you like?” “I'm offended, Miss Rain. I like humans. I like plenty of humans. You for example, I enjoy you and your defective bladder, it makes me laugh. I just think I would enjoy killing you more. There’s nothing wrong with that right?” “There’s so much wrong with that. So why is Surra so special?” “Miss Surra is one of the few humans I've met that shares my enthusiasm for…..violent pastimes. She is an artist with a knife I'll tell you that! A battle to the death with her would be a dream come true.” The robot sighed happily. “Okay…..well it sounds like love. I’m gonna go now.” “Indeed! Your defective bladder is at it again from the looks of things. I need to make myself presentable for Miss Surra. I wonder if she remembers me.” He moved aside so she could pass, before continuing down the hall, humming a cheery tune. She glanced in Miyuki’s room as she passed, seeing her comrade sitting on her bed, staring into space mindlessly. Despite her discolored diaper, Rain couldn’t turn away. She stepped in and sat down on the bed as well. Miyuki glanced at her slowly, but neither of them said anything for a few minutes. “You're gonna leak on my bed. Go get your supplies and I'll change you real quick.” Rain reluctantly stood and headed to get her supplies. She didn’t really want Miyuki to change her, but it would give her a chance to probe her a bit. She didn’t seem in a teasing mood anyway. When she got back, Miyuki seemed a bit more composed, sitting with her legs spread, awaiting Rain to get into position. With a sigh, Rain climbed on the bed and handed the new diaper to Miyuki. Miyuki tore the tabs of the wet diaper, before beginning to clean her up with the wipes. She was gentle, but a bit mechanic. “You might as well just ask. I know you're here for a reason. You always wiggle and look embarrassed when I change you, and you definitely don’t just sit around creepily and wait for me to offer.” “You seemed upset about going to the Oro. I wanted to make sure you were okay.” It wasn’t exactly true. Miyuki was feeling a lot of emotions, Rain could sense it. Her emotions were out of control, with fear being a primary one. But there were other feelings beneath the surface. They were complicated and Rain wasn’t sure what they were. “It's Surra, Old Lady Oro’s granddaughter and current heir. Listen to me, Rain. When we get there, I want you to be very careful. Surra is dangerous, and she doesn’t take lip lightly. She'll try to bait you, then punish you if you rise to it.” Rain took a breath as she felt the baby powder being rubbed into her skin. She didn’t know how the Vault made it, but it was wonderful. “You seem really nervous, Miyuki. It's not like you. You’re the one that told me I needed to be a badass, but you’re practically shaking in your boots.” Miyuki stayed quiet until the new diaper was taped on, then took Rain by the shoulder. “You listen to me, dammit. This isn’t about being tough, it’s about being smart. There’s only three people in the world I'm scared of and Surra is one of them. Behave. Don’t provoke her okay? No matter what.” Rain nodded, feeling more uncomfortable than ever about meeting these people. Miyuki didn’t say another word. She took the rolled up used diaper and left the room to dispose of it. Rain figured she wanted to be left alone, so she headed to her room. Tali was there already, looking for her probably. “There you are! I guess you got tired of waiting. Sorry about that.” “I had Miyuki do it, but I was really just trying to figure what has her so frazzled.” Tali looked away, giving a nervous laugh. “Yeah, she's……well it's…..I mean it's…….tough to explain.” Rain sighed angrily, tired of being in the dark. “Do you know how annoying it is to be constantly confused as to what the heck’s going on all the time?” Tali sat on the bed and invited her to as well. With a sigh, Rain laid back into the woman’s arms. “The Oro…..they're…..very intense, I guess is a good way to put it. Surra’s brother Hanno is a sweetheart though. Nothing like his twin, Arax at all. You'll like him.” “I always feel out of the loop.” Rain insisted, pouting. Tali giggled. “Well, you were late to the party, baby. We were doing this for two years before you came along. We know some people you don’t. You’ve only been here what, a little over six months? Trust me, in time you'll know everyone, and you'll be no better off for it.” They sat together for a long time, enjoying the silence. She could hear the others making ready, and knew she would need to pack as well soon. Aside from her weapons, she would have to pack at least a week’s worth of diapers. The weight of those alone were tremendous, but she always carried them herself. They were her burden to bear. Tali had her own. “Miles finally looks back to normal, and here we go again to jump into another fight. Is it weird that I’m a little excited? It gets a bit boring otherwise.” Tali shook her head. “I know. The others are the same, always looking toward the next fight. I’m probably the only one who loves the quiet. It means everyone is safe and whole.” “Why do this then? We could stop, right? We don't have to do this all the time, anyway.” “Miles won’t stop, so I can’t either. We're making the world a better place, right? No matter how much blood we spill.” Rain was a bit surprised at how much doubt and bitterness she heard in Tali’s voice. Knowing what she did about Miles and Tali now, Rain figured her friend would like nothing more than to settle down with Miles and stop all the fighting. Maybe he would even get better if he were out of harm’s way. But that wouldn’t happen. Miles had his mission, a need to keep fighting, and it wasn’t likely to end anytime soon. “So…..how long have you and Miles been an item?” Rain asked, hoping to get to a better subject. Tali thought for a moment. “I guess we got together about a year before you came? It's sorta been an open secret ever since. Miyuki suspects it, and I think Gabriel does too. Rocco is totally oblivious though.” Rain grabbed her bear from the bed, still pondering over a name. “Do you think you'll ever get married?” Tali laughed at that. “Married? Where did that come from?” Rain shrugged. “Why not? That’s what people do when they're in love, right?” “I don’t know….seems silly, doesn't it?” Tali asked, but her blush gave her away. “I doubt Miles would be interested, not in me anyway.” Rain turned, grabbing Tali’s hands. “How could you say that? I've seen him look at you, he's crazy about you. I can’t believe I never saw it before.” Tali’s cheeks reddened even more. “You think so? I don’t know. Sometimes I feel like……like I’m a distraction, walking beside him, but not with him. If I died tomorrow, would he grieve for me, or would he just keep moving on to the next battle? Does he really love me, or am I just someone to keep him warm at night?” Rain didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know how to sooth such insecurities. She remembered how Tali had once said that Miles was always so focused on his mission, sometimes he missed what was in front of him. Maybe he was. Here was an amazing woman who would follow him to the end of the world, and yet she wasn’t sure how much she meant to him. “You need to talk to him then. Tell him how you feel, or you'll just drive yourself crazy.” “Hmmm…..maybe. A wasteland marriage ceremony. It's a funny thought isn't it?” “Life is short. Especially out here. You deserve to be happy.” The mood was broken by loud singing coming from the hall. They peeked out and saw Mr. Happy spinning around and while singing in a foreign language. It was erratic behavior for an already strange and erratic robot. Tali shrugged and grinned. “It's opera. Sometimes when Happy is….well…..happy, he likes to sing opera music.” Rain watched as the robot hovered and spun wildly. “Somehow that's the most weird and disturbing thing I've learned today, and I just found out about these cannibal people.” Tali wrapped an arm around her, and kissed her on the head. “We need to pack. Oh, by the way, I wouldn’t call the Oro “cannibal people”. I doubt it would go over well.

I suggest what ever diaper you get (it sounds like you haven't yet worn diapers) that you experiment at home in a place that won't cause you to wet furniture or anything like that. Perhaps put down a plastic trash bag and a towel before you sit in a chair or lay in bed. Different brands of diapers will absorb differently. The premium brands people have mentioned will absorb a lot while the store brands you get at Wallgreens and CVS won't absorb as much. Also it's best not to do what people call "Flood" your diaper. That means if you have to piss like a horse don't just let it all out at once fast and hard in your diaper. Your diaper may not be able to absorb it all that fast and leak. Better to let it out slowly a little at a time over a minute or two and give your diaper a chance to absorb it. Also with different diapers some can handle many wettings over several hours and others will leak sooner. Before venturing out and about with diapers on, test them at home and see just how much you are able to wet them over time before they start to leak. Same goes for diapers if you plan to mess in them. Gennerally the store brands of diapers will do better when you mess in them as absorbency isn't as critical, but the consistancy of your stools can play a roll. If you mess a big load and it is loose, your diaper may leak it out weather it's a store brand or a premium brand. Firmer harder stools will be better in your diaper but even then if you have a huge load you poop out into your diaper, it could leak out the sides and crotch area. For messes you want a good diaper with a wider crotch and full seat for containment. Just experiment with any diaper you decide to get in order to learn their limits and capacity. Some will be better than others for absorbency but they may really be thick and bulky and swell up the more you wet them. Fun, but maybe not as discreet under thin cotton shorts in the summer if you are around people. In that case, it may be better to go with a thinner less absorbent store brand and just change your diaper more often.

Kelly is actually glad for the excuse to stay late given how hard it’s been raining today she’s not eager to go out into what’s turning out to be one hell of a late summer thunderstorm . Kelly's never been one to ignore a buffet, still she’s feeling a little bloated and crampy. She makes the rounds trying to keep her mind on the small talk. About an hour into the party however there is a peel of thunder and the rain starts coming down even harder. Kelly is just about to leave for the bathroom. When there is a loud bang and the lights go out briefly, then emergency lamps kick on. Kelly goes to pull on the door and finds it locked. “Oh god no, not now.” The lightning strike had accidentally tripped the security system and locked everyone in. Dominque is trying to get the manual override to work but the power surge apparently fused the lock. Kelly spends the next half hour fighting her colon she can feel the building pressure as several days backlog pushes her against her exhausted sphincter. Of course Millie notices her desperation. “You know we have diapers in the breakroom right Kelly?” “Wait what?” “You don’t have to be embarrassed I’m about to do a pee in my pants rights now.” “Aye same” Kelly squeaks in embarrassment as Mack from accounting joins the conversation. “Tell you what ladies I’ll be a gentleman and take the first hit.” He winks at the two. “Ah screw this fickin’ shit, I know these are mint for Littles and people with control issues, but I’m holding several liters of lager in here.” Mack grabs a diaper from one of the cabinets unfolds it on the counter and unzips pulling out a sizable Amazon member proceeds to hose it down using it as an impromptu urinal. Whistling the entire time. He finishes with a few shakes and a theatrical sigh of relief “Shit that feels better.” Everyone laughs at the office comedian’s performance. Which allows Millie to grab a couple diapers and lead Kelly behind some potted plants. Kelly is quite fast enough and freezes as she feels a shart hit her panties. Millie is fast to react however and spreads a diaper under Kelly before rolling her dress up and pulling down her panties. Kelly let’s go unable to hold it as several massive logs slide out of her curling onto the spread diaper. Kelly is still going as Millie finishes peeing next to her using some wet wipes before dropping them onto the diaper. She watches as Kelly finishes pushing the last bit from between her thick curvy cheecks. “I’m so sorry you had to see that I couldn’t go these past gew days I think it was the stress and I ruined my panties and…” “Shhh it’s all good look.” Kelly can see several other people using the impromptu facilities. “I’m here for you Kelly, I’m your friend. Let’s get you cleaned up, I’ll bag your undies for you take home. Kelly spends the rest of the party diapered and in an Amada Tech t-shirt. Actually most people seem to have gone casual dress after they got the doors open. With the storm so bad Laura agreed she should overnight with everyone else. So, she’s been casually chatting, snacking playing games on the breakroom T.V. She’s also been getting her buzz on which has led to a thoroughly saturated diaper. A booze-soaked diaper, Kelly giggles at the thought. At close to midnight she finds herself pulled into a poker game with several other fems and woman in the supply room for that floor. “So I want to make this interesting.” says Hoshi from sales. “Strip poker?” “Nah we’ve already done that.” Kelly is legit shocked by Millie’s suggestion “I’ve got an idea but it’s super wild.” She has this evil grin on her face. Each person eliminated has to mess a diaper and be changed by the next person in line. Several stunned people look at eachother before grinning “Fuck it I’m in.” “Same” “What the hell yolo right?” Millie turns to Kelly. “That’s not even a punishment for me.” Everyone laughs. “Damn girl your kinky even for an offworld Little.” One of them chimes in. Everyone laughs nervously as Millie starts to shuffle the deck.

Pilot It’s said that a single, seemingly insignificant event can alter the course of person’s life. A ripple in a pond leads to a tidal wave; a butterfly flapping its wings makes a hurricane half a world away. For Carla Garcia, struggling actress, it was something as simple as what underwear the director wanted her to wear. “Nick?” Carla’s voice echoed off the pickle green bricks of the studio hallway. “What the hell is this?” Carla’s manager and agent looked up from his phone, giving a passing glance to the soft plastic-backed bundle she held in one outstretched hand. From the way she held the thing, one might think it was a hungry piranha wriggling around and trying to bite her fingers off. “That,” Nick stated plainly, “would be a diaper.” He gave Carla a little smirk like he thought he was being cute or something. Of course it was a diaper. What else could it have been, with its white plastic backing and nauseatingly pink and purple flowers and butterflies? Even from arm’s length, the scent of its lavender perfume wafted into Carla’s nose. This was either a diaper meant for a particularly large baby or a maxi-pad for an amazon. “I know it’s a diaper, Nick,” Carla growled, “but what the hell is it doing in my dressing room?!” Nick slicked back his chestnut hair. “I’m not an expert, but I’m betting that’s part of your costume. Just guessing.” “I know it’s part of my wardrobe,” Carla hissed, “but why?!” Nick furrowed his eyebrows in concentration and confusion. For a brief moment he was a dog that had been asked to pedal a unicycle. He wanted to make her happy; he just didn’t know how. Her gaze followed his as he looked conspiratorially over his shoulder. “I snooped around and saw some other packages in Wardrobe,” Nick whispered like he was a spy in one of those cheesy prison break movies they’d watch together. “They’ve got diapers with teddy bears on ‘em, and owls; even ones with clouds and balloons and stuff. Say the word, and I make a call. We’ll get you the right kind of dia-“ “I AM NOT TALKING ABOUT WEARING DIAPERS IN THE HALLWAY WHERE EVERYONE CAN LISTEN IN!” Carla’s shouts rattled the door to the dressing room behind her. She was suddenly acutely aware of exactly how loud she had just been. Several stage hands and technicians had stopped dead in their tracks and stared in horror and disgust at her. Her first acting gig in months, and they likely already thought she was being a diva. All that was missing for them was the popcorn. “Dressing room!” she scolded him as quietly as she could. “Now!” With her free hand, Carla grabbed Nick by his tie and dragged him into the dressing room the studio had provided; any harder and the tie would have unclipped from his shirt. “I get that you’re upset about something,” Nick said after the door to Carla’s dressing room was closed and Carla had released his tie, “but I just don’t get what it is or why.” Carla puffed out her breath in frustration. Now it was her turn to be perplexed. What was so hard to understand? “Why do I have to wear a diaper in the first place?” “Uh…because you’re playing a baby…?” Nick offered sarcastically. “Says it there right in the casting call: ‘Big Baby Bella’.” Nick had gotten Carla a part for a T.V. pilot. It was some kind of kid’s show, targeted for late bloomers and immature types who didn’t want to grow up, or something. Nick had described the show as a variation on Lazy Town, only for children that didn’t want to move up to “big kid” status instead of ones who didn’t want to exercise. And just like Lazy Town, all the characters for Little Land were being played by adults. Only one part was available: “Big Baby Bella”. The downside was that Carla didn’t know anything else about the part. It had been a last minute gig, with the original actress dropping out suddenly and Nick managing to get Carla’s headshots into some casting director’s lap. Carla had yet to meet any of the other actors, or do a table read, or anything other than make it to the studio. She’d managed to get a glimpse of the director- Max Hammerschmidt, a local legend in children’s programming- before a few stage hands shuffled her into a dressing room while Nick walked behind them playing on his phone. Worse yet, she wasn’t going to get the chance to properly prepare for the role, it seemed. Max Hammerschmidt had a reputation for being particularly demanding when it came to keeping on schedule, and today was the first day of filming. No rehearsal, no nothing. Carla was going to have to read the script moments before the cameras started rolling, hope that she could memorize the lines, and let her natural talent carry her through today. That had been the plan, at least, until Carla had seen her wardrobe: a lavender colored dress with puffy sleeves, a matching wig with its artificial hair in pigtails, some baby bootie socks with grips on the soles so that she could walk around without slipping, and a diaper big enough that it could actually fit her. It wasn’t even an adult style diaper like something found in the “embarrassing personal products aisle” at the grocery store. It was, for all intents and purposes, a baby diaper that had been blown up to scale. The moment she found the dreadful thing waiting for her in the dressing room, Carla had gotten a pretty good idea why her predecessor had suddenly quit. “This is ridiculous, Nick,” Carla whined, shaking the diaper in her hand for emphasis. “Why do I have to wear a diaper?” Nick glanced at his phone, like he had somewhere better to be. More than likely, he had one of his games on pause and was itching to play. “It’s for the part. You’re ‘Big Baby Bella’. You wear diapers. It’s kind of in the name.” “Yeah,” Carla allowed, “but I didn’t expect to have to wear a real diaper for the part. I figured that they’d just give me some kind of puffy pants, or maybe the old white-cloth-and-giant-safety-pin bit. Y’know? Like in the cartoons?” Nick sighed. Why was he the one acting exasperated? He wasn’t the one expected to trade in his undies for Pampers Size 26. “This isn’t a cartoon, and it’s supposed to be educational,” he told her. “How are the little two and three year olds of the world going to know that being in diapers is a bad thing if your diaper doesn’t look like something they’d wear? How many kids wear diapers without some kind of cartoon on them? How many kids wear safety-pinned diapers?” “If it’s supposed to be realistic, then why is this diaper plastic?” Carla countered. “I’ve got a little niece, and all of her Pampers are that fake cloth-like shit.” There was a pause. Nick’s eyes searched the room for an answer. “It’s part of the aesthetic, I guess. Your other stuff seems kinda plastic to me.” Nick levied a finger at the dress and wig laying on the countertop. Gingerly, Carla picked up the dress and rubbed the material between her fingers. It didn’t crinkle like a raincoat, or a…well, Carla didn’t even want to think the word if she didn’t have to…but there was definitely a kind of shimmer and sheen to it. Maybe Nick did have a point there. Still, she wasn’t about to admit defeat. “That’s not the point,” she moaned. “This is degrading and embarrassing.” “That’s showbiz,” Nick replied flatly. There was another ten full seconds of tense uninterrupted, unblinking silence between the two. Nick let out a long sigh and rubbed his temples. “Look, babe; you’ve basically got two choices: either put on the diaper, or give up on being an actress.” Carla’s heart was in her stomach in an instant. “I have busted my ass trying to get you good, speaking parts, and for some reason, this is the only one that’s panned out. And…and…and…” he seemed to search for words and came up wanting. The young actress felt like she was going to throw up in her mouth. Even Nick was close to giving up on her. Nick never gave up on anyone. Anyone. He had a mime as a client for God’s sakes! She was about to be brought lower than a mime all because she wouldn’t wear a diaper. “Other than this,” Nick broke into her train of thought, “best I can do is get you a gig as an extra in a herpes medication commercial.” An extra? In a herpes commercial? She wouldn’t even be the one talking to the camera about how she had herpes. Best case scenario, she’d be bike rider number four in a crowd of bike riders to demonstrate that yes, even people with herpes could ride bikes. She wouldn’t even get to say “…But not anymore.” “Do you want the part, Carla? Do you want to at least get your foot in the door? Or do you wanna go back to waiting tables at the shit bar where we met?” Nick was right. This might be her last chance. That’s when the fight went out of her. “Fine,” she conceded. “I’ll put the damn thing on. Now get out. I need to get…” she paused. “Changed” would have been a poor choice of words on her part. “I need to get dressed.” “Atta girl,” Nick grinned, stifling a laugh as he went for the doorknob. “That’s very mature of you. I’m proud of you.” Carla gave him a look and Nick slapped his hand over his mouth. This is why they hadn’t worked out as a couple. Never one to restrain himself too much, Nick waited until he was almost completely out the door, leaned back in and said, “Now you just let your Nick-Nick know if you need any help getting your diapee on,” before fluttering his eyes coyly. Son of a bitch managed to get out and slam the door right as the diaper came flying at his head. The young actress turned to face the dressing room mirror and took a deep breath in through her nose before letting it out quickly through her mouth. “Nick…” she whispered to herself. Sometimes that man’s own name could be used as a curse word. But as infuriating as he could be, Carla still liked him, at least as a friend and agent. He had gotten her plenty of auditions over the past few years and it wasn’t his fault that she was never “quite what the director was looking for.” An old Mitch Hedberg joke came to mind just then: “You know what keeps me from acting? Fucking auditions.” It had been funny when Mitch had said it. It wasn’t nearly as funny when Carla was living it. The irony that she hadn’t auditioned to get this part wasn’t lost on her, either. Regardless, she had gotten a speaking role, and something about her was what at least one person had been looking for, even if it had been as a last minute replacement. What did it matter if they had also been looking for someone desperate enough to wear a diaper on camera? She could do this. She could totally do this. With a last look at herself in the mirror and a huff, Carla pulled her midnight black tank-top over her head; folding it neatly, almost ceremonially, before setting it down on the counter in front of her. She pondered leaving on her matching sports bra for a moment before double checking the dress she was supposed to wear. Twisting her lips to the side, she frowned slightly as she examined the childish costume. Her bra would definitely show if she left it on; not camera appropriate in the least. It was a stupid mistake on her part. Should’ve brought something strapless, just in case, she thought. But, she reminded herself, babies don’t wear bras, so it made sense to go without. It wasn’t a mistake, it was a character choice. Further inspection of the front of the dress revealed that it had a little bit of padding up top, too, so it was likely meant to be worn without any additional support. The actress sighed in relief, and the bra soon joined the sacrificial altar of her dignity. Her sneakers, socks, and jeans were added shortly after. Carla was about to take off her panties when she remembered that their replacement was still lying on the floor. Shimmying her panties down her hips while she tiptoed to the door, Carla picked up the tacky, padded, plastic, monstrosity and turned it over in her hands. Once again, the faint smell of lavender wafted up into her nostrils, bringing with it memories of babysitting her niece and perhaps even long buried memories of being babysat herself. It did smell nice, if you didn’t think about what its intended purpose was. Not that she’d be using it, of course. This was a costume piece; a prop and nothing more. For the first time since discovering it, she completely unfolded the adult baby diaper in her hands. Opening up the sides revealed even more purple plastic around the waistline and leg gathers; God, but this thing looked gaudy! Still, if meant getting the job, then… Carla froze. She didn’t actually know how to put a diaper on herself. She knew how to put a diaper on someone else, but she quickly realized that she didn’t have the slightest inkling of how to be both the adult and the baby at the same time. Perplexed, she looked at the thing in her hands and studied it like it was some sort of puzzle. She could tell where the back was by the tapes, but didn’t get much further than that. How to put this thing on? What secrets did it hold?! At first, she tried to pull it up between her legs and fasten it standing, but whenever she reached for a tape in the back, the front drooped down like a wet noodle. Likewise, when she pulled the front up to her waist for a nice snug fit, the backside inevitably fell before she could fasten it properly. Carla considered squeezing the middle between her thighs so she might hold the damn thing in place long enough to fasten it together, but that might wrinkle it up and make it unappealing to the camera. Did diapers wrinkle that much? She’d never thought about it before. This wasn’t working. Carla was Sisyphus pushing a boulder up a hill. “Wish there was a spare,” She whispered quietly enough so that she was sure Rick wouldn’t hear her. “That way I could worry less if I made a mistake.” The irony that she was now wishing for more diapers wasn’t lost on her. Defeated once more by this simple task, Carla decided to go at it from another angle. She lowered herself down to the floor; the carpet tickling her spine while the padding cushioned her backside like an overstuffed pillow. Better. Much better. Carla reached between her legs and pulled the undergarment up past her belly button. So far, so good. But as she twisted around to try and grab at the tapes, she felt the underside of the diaper tickling at her thighs. How the hell had that happened?! She was doing it wrong, again! Well past the point of frustration, Carla sat up only so she could throw herself back onto the carpet with a thud; her forearms brushing into the carpet in a miniature tantrum that resembled making a snow angel. Damnit! Damnit! Damnit!She might lose this job just because she couldn’t diaper herself! How was she supposed to play Big Baby Bella if she couldn’t get a damn diaper on? That was the rub though: babies didn’t diaper themselves. Carla picked herself off the floor and went to the door of the dressing room; opening the door just enough so that she could see Nick leaning against the wall, playing on his phone. “Nick,” she whimpered through the crack in the doorway. “Heeeeelp meeee.” Nick looked up from his phone. Her agent did a double take. “Seriously?” he asked. Her throat dry from embarrassment, Carla nodded. In the space of a heartbeat, Nick was a through the door and in the dressing room. Carla didn’t even have time to blink before Nick was picking the repulsive padding up off the floor and walking towards the counter where the rest of her costume laid. “Right,” he nodded, more to himself than to her. “Let’s do this.” Nick placed the rest of the costume on a nearby stool while still managing to knock some strips of lavender plastic and a bottle of spirit gum to the floor. “Over here”, he patted the countertop. “Come lay down.” Carla looked at him indignantly. “What?” Nick scoffed. “You asked for my help, now come lay down.” The countertop was cold as she hoisted herself up onto it. Carla shivered a bit as she laid her head down using the pile of her adult clothes as a makeshift pillow, and closed her eyes. “The things I do for my clients,” Nick muttered loud enough for her to hear. His hand gently moved hers away from her pelvis; she had already started to cover herself in a kind of second nature to preserve her own modesty. “Relax, you literally don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,” Nick reminded. “Or have you forgotten those couple of months when we tried being more than actress and agent?” Sadly, Nick had a point. However in her current state of vulnerability, his words made Carla feel less like an ex-lover and more like a little girl at the doctor’s office. She shut her eyes all the harder when she felt her agent slip an arm under the back of her knees and push her legs up over her head. Just relax. Let him do his job. Carla heard just as much as she felt when Nick used his free hand to slide the diaper under Carla’s rump. She let out the slightest breath of relief as her naked skin touched the soft inside of the diaper and cringed a bit when she heard the accompanying rustling of the soft plastic. “Just a second,” she heard Nick say. Carla didn’t even have time to respond before her senses were overwhelmed. The sickly sweet lavender scent from the diaper multiplied tenfold in her nostrils and her skin was assaulted with the sensation of cool flakes pelting her backside. Baby powder? Carla opened her eyes to see Nick sprinkling baby powder on her, coating caramel skin with a layer of powdered sugar. “Hey,” she coughed, “what gives? I already smell like a baby.” Her nose twitched as she suppressed a sneeze. “You’ll thank me at the end of shooting when you haven’t been chafing all day,” Nick told her. “Besides,” he continued talking after he lowered her legs and began sprinkling the stuff on her crotch. “I really think it’ll help you get into character.” There was a knock on the door. “Miss Garcia?” A muffled voice from the hallway interrupted their banter. “Five minutes till they need you on set!” “Thank you, five!” Carla called back, using theater lingo as a matter of habit. Her entire body tingled with embarrassment as Nick pulled the diaper up between her legs and pulled the tapes taught over the front. She was acutely aware of the new and invasive bulk between her legs. His hands reached out to her, and she accepted them, pulling herself up into a sitting position before hopping off the impromptu changing table. There was a distinct change in her gait, Carla noticed, as she took a few tentative practice steps in the bulky thing strapped around her waist. “How’s it fit?” Nick asked. Carla’s ears rang with the crinkle of thin plastic. She twisted her hips a bit and bent and stretched to see if the noise could be reduced through use; like breaking in a new shoe. It couldn’t. On the bright side, it showed no sign of slipping off, so there was that at least. “Fits pretty good,” Carla replied before picking the purple baby dress and slipping it on over her head. “It’s been awhile since I’ve worn one of these, so I don’t know how it’s supposed to feel.” She smoothed the material down and adjusted herself so that her breasts fit comfortably. Absentmindedly, she ran her hand down the down the hem of her dress and noted that her hand hit smooth plastic far sooner than she would’ve liked. That could be a problem. Not having the luxury of time to fully examine herself yet, Carla quickly went about the business of pinning back her hair and slipping a wig cap on so she could properly adorn the violet wig, pigtails and all. Nick chuckled to himself as Carla finished getting dressed. “You have no idea how pathetic you looked; all naked and afraid, begging me to help you put on a diaper. You couldn’t even get it on without me.” The eyes in Carla’s head rolled so much she almost got a glance at her own brain. “Ass,” she playfully spat as she pulled on the baby booty socks, complete with grips on the soles and frills on the edges. “When was the last time you wore underwear that required assembly?” “More recently than I’d like to admit,” Nick smirked, “but not nearly as recently as you. And I wouldn’t call what you’re wearing underwear. Underwear is typically…under something.” He pointed his finger and waggled it between her dress and the diaper. The actress caught her reflection in the full length mirror by the door. It was worse than she thought: Her “hair” was plaited into two dangling pom-poms, her feet were slipped into in little more than baby booties, and she was wearing a dress that Cindy Brady might call immature. She was a sight to behold, like something out of a cartoon. The dress seemed to flare out, making a kind of triangle at her hips. Only, more to Nick’s point, the hem of the dress wasn’t covering much of anything. To call this thing she was wearing a dress was an overstatement. It didn’t even completely hide her diaper; it covered the top half at most. There was absolutely no angle where one couldn’t see that she was heavily padded. Carla burned inside a bit once she realized she thought of the diaper as hers. “Ay, dios mio! I’m a friggin’ Kewpie doll!” Nick took a spot beside her in the mirror; comparatively the Ward Cleaver to her Cindy Brady. “I think you look kinda cute, actually.” “I look like I’m two!” “The two concepts aren’t mutually exclusive,” Nick said, adding a wink. Jackass. Flirt. Jackass flirt. “You’ve got less than five minutes to get to the set,” he quickly changed the subject. “So quit stalling, and go get ‘em!” Carla nodded, more to herself than to him, and shuffled over to the dressing room door and opened it, giving Nick one last look back over her shoulder before she left. “What?” Nick teased, “You need me to hold your hand and walk you there?” If he said anything after that, Carla couldn’t hear him over the door slamming. “Nick…” she cursed, before storming down the hallway towards the set. The word “storm” may have been an overstatement, though. It was actually very difficult to “storm” when every step you took reminded you that you were dressed more like your toddler niece than the adult you actually were. As embarrassing as it was being dressed like this, though, it was evident she was expected. Every crew member she passed in the hallway nodded at her politely as she passed, and when she asked, one of them confirmed that she was headed in the right direction. Maybe her earlier outburst in the hallway had gotten her a little bit of respect. “Aha!” a voice rang out as she approached the stage. “There she is!” Carla’s neck craned as she looked through the crowd of key grips, best boys, errand runners, and interns. Finally, she located the source of the voice. An older man, dressed most peculiarly, was rapidly approaching Carla; considering Carla looked like she wasn’t quite ready for potty-training, that was saying something. The old man was dressed less like what a director would actually wear to set, and more like what someone going to a costume party as “a director” would throw together. His brown riding pants were tucked into black boots. A too-tight banana yellow t-shirt clung to his torso. His wrinkled face wore dark aviator sunglasses and he had a curly mustache penciled on with what must have been eyeliner. His fire-engine-red beret was complimented by an equally obnoxious red scarf thrown around his neck. In one hand he carried a riding crop and the other held a giant megaphone that a cheerleader might use. The eccentric old codger made an exaggerated and genteel bow. “Miss Garcia, I presume? How do you do?” Carla’s lips smiled politely, but her eyes were frowning. She cocked her head to the side like she was looking at him from the wrong angle. Who was this joker? Looking past the aviator sunglasses and into his eyes, something clicked. She had seen this man barking out orders on set just moments before she had been shoved into a dressing room. “Mr. Hammerschmidt?!” The director’s mouth frowned while his eyes smiled, “Mr. Hammerschmidt is my father’s name. I insist that all the cast and crew call me ‘Max’. If the children who we make these programs for can’t be expected to pronounce my name, why should you?” “I’m so sorry,” Carla apologized. “I didn’t recognize you at first. You just look so…so…so…” Carla stuttered to a stop; using her arms to gesture at his outfit. “Ridiculous?” Max supplied the words Carla couldn’t quite spit out. “Quite right. It’s a bit of a superstition I have. If am to expect my actors to be comfortable in their borrowed skins, I must create one for myself.” He gestured dramatically, like a Shakespearean actor past his prime and drew her gaze to her current wardrobe. “Most of this cast is portraying a kind of caricature of childhood, and thus…” he paused for effect, “…I must portray a caricature of myself.” “Oh,” Carla said, feeling stupid. “That’s…cool, I guess.” “Indeed,” Max agreed, though Carla had the sneaking suspicion he was agreeing with himself more than her. “We must all sacrifice for art. Speaking of which…” His riding crop hovered to the hem of her dress and lifted it so that her diaper was on full display. Carla froze, her arms rigid by her side as if the crop were a poisonous snake. Max leaned in, examining Carla’s padded crotch as though it were a painting, before nodding. “Good!” he said, letting the hem of her dress fall back into place. “Everything fits as intended, and you clearly know how to follow direction. We were lucky to find you on such short notice.” Her mouth suddenly felt very dry. “Thank you?” This was a kid’s show, right? Max squinted his eyes from behind his sunglasses. “You also seem to be one of those Latinos. Also very lucky. Very popular with the target audience these days, thanks to that Dora cartoon and all. So, good for you! Very good. Very good.” Carla didn’t say anything to that, but felt her anger rising at the older man’s casual racism. Her hands became fists at her side. Her fearful trembling mutated into furious shaking. Max, for his part, did not seem to notice. Instead he looked over her shoulder, raised the megaphone to his face and then blared “Aha! There he is!” before walking right past her to the next cast member that had caught his attention. Her blood hot, Carla whipped her body around; the hem of her lavender dress angrily fluttering around her. A soft, feminine hand on her shoulder kept her from waddle-storming after Max to tell the old bastard off. “I know that look,” the woman attached to the hand said to Carla. She too, was older than Carla, with several strands of her otherwise straw colored locks giving way to a middle aged gray. “Let me guess, Max just said something casually stupid and or offensive.” Seeing a sympathetic soul, Carla nodded to the newcomer. “Yeah,” the older woman sighed, “Max does that sometimes. I don’t think he means to be that insensitive, he’s just a little out of touch with everything. Still, I’m glad he’s sworn off voting.” Carla frowned. “And you are…?” “Justine,” the woman held out her hand, “assistant director and one of the few people willing to put up with Max on a regular basis.” Smiling politely, but noncommittally, Carla shook Justine’s hand. “Max can be a little like everybody’s drunk uncle at Thanksgiving,” Justine explained, “but he’s brilliant and brings out the best in his actors. He wore his own paper-mache dinosaur head when he directed Barney & Friends and got a daytime Emmy nod for his work.” Justine’s nose wrinkled as if remembering a particularly bad dream. “Had to be taken off the show the next season, though, because the kids on set were heard repeating his theories on ancient Egypt. Long story…don’t ask.” There’s a fine line between “crazy” and “eccentric”, the measure typically being success. Obviously, Max Hammerschmidt was “eccentric”. The cold and calculating lizard part of Carla’s brain buzzed with ambition. She could handle some old white guy calling her “one of those Latinos” every now and then if it meant regular work on an award winning T.V. show. Justine leaned in closer and Carla flinched, preparing for yet another stranger to stare at her pelvis. Fortunately, the assistant director instead peered at the actress’s face. “Hmmm, you should have been given some prosthetic eyebrows to exaggerate your facial expressions. Didn’t Wardrobe leave them in your dressing room?” Carla’s brow furrowed in concentration. The memory of two little slivers of rubber and a bottle of spirit gum left being swept off the countertop as Nick readied to diaper her flashed in her mind’s eye. Shit… Carla began to fidget nervously. “Oh yeeeeah. I might have accidentally misplaced those when I was getting my…” she racked her brain for an appropriate euphemism, but couldn’t find any delicate way to get around it, “…diaper put on me. I must’ve misplaced them then,” she confessed. Justine pursed her lips. “You couldn’t put it on yourself?” Carla felt her cheeks heat up with embarrassment. So she hadbeen expected to diaper herself. “I was getting into character…?” Carla lied; the uncertainty showing in her voice. “Well, not a big deal,” Justine replied. “I’ll send someone over with replacements to make sure you’re camera ready. Just wait here.” Carla nodded politely and did as she was told. Camera ready. That was a laugh. No one would be noticing her eyebrows once they got a look at her bottom. Two people quickly ran up to her and glued the purple strips of silicone to her face, making her look even more like a cartoon character, while she continued to feel sorry for herself. Before the spirit gum had even properly dried, Max’s voice rang out over the set from his megaphone. “Alright, alright! Actors gather round for the Big Baby Bella scenes!” Carla walked over to the stage with purpose, the crinkling with each footfall buzzing inside her ears and the smell of baby powder wafting up from her bottom making her increasingly self-conscious. “It’s just the crinkling of money,” Carla whispered a prayer to the acting gods. “I’m getting paid for this. I’m getting speaking lines, and I’m gonna be famous someday because of this. That’s not baby powder; just the smell of success.” The set piece where they gathered looked like a giant nursery. Every trope was accounted for: giant crib, oversized rocking chair, a box of toys big enough to be a coffin, a bouncy harness that looked like it would fit Carla perfectly, a rocking horse the size of a Clydesdale and the usual assortment of gargantuan stuffed animals worth thousands of tickets at a carnival. All of it was painted in bright, simple colors. There was grass green carpeting, sky blue walls, and purple, yellow, and orange furniture pieces with not a single muted hue to be seen. None of that particularly surprised Carla, given the subject and theme of the show; though Carla did feel a pang of dread when she spotted the adult changing table with diapers identical to her own stacked and waiting on the shelves beneath. Please let that be just for decoration. “Ah, Miss Garcia,” Max Hammerschmidt motioned for her to come closer as she approached, “join us, please. Everyone, this is our Big Baby Bella for today. Miss Clark canceled after the incident at rehearsals yesterday.” There was an uncomfortable and knowing nod from the other actors, hinting at memories best not revisited. What incident? Max motioned to the two actors directly in front of him, “Carla, meet Randy and Miranda. They’ll be playing your parents, lack of family resemblance not-withstanding.” The hairs on the back of Carla’s neck bristled, waiting for some form of ignorance to spring forth from Hammerschmidt’s mouth. Thankfully, none came. The two actors playing Bella’s parents, Carla estimated, were about her age: mid to late twenties, early thirties at most. The campy old-age makeup couldn’t really hide that fact, even though Randy’s plastic looking eyebrows and mustache were dust bunny gray, as was the square top wig he had on. Miranda, likewise, wore a stiff wig which was styled in a ‘do June Cleaver might call conservative, and was a shade of tangerine that still came off as a bad dye job in a technicolor world. The “Dad” costume consisted of a boxy sweater vest the same nauseating pickle green color as Carla’s dressing room. His loafers were similarly the shape and size of shoe boxes. “Mom” wore a dress that was an orange hue only a few shades lighter than her wig. Like Carla’s dress, Miranda’s costume flared outward giving it a kind of triangle effect; with the main difference that being you couldn’t tell what kind of underwear Miranda was wearing at a glance. “Hello,” they each said, politely. Carla returned the courtesy. “And this,” Max indicated the actress standing beside him, “is our star, Debra Donaghy. She’ll be playing the part of ‘Little Miss Lucy’.” Carla’s jaw hit the floor. Debra Donaghy was quite obviously younger than all of them. If she was eighteen, she was only just eighteen. Her petite form only came up to Carla’s shoulder, exaggerating the perception. Her neon blue wig came down in bangs, framing her face perfectly and drawing the eye to her too perfect button nose. Equally as complimentary was her light blue plaid jumper with leggings and high tops that matched her wig. Carla bit the inside of her cheek to suppress a jealous scoff. This was the lead? Carla had never heard of Debra Donaghy, but she was instinctively certain that this was some ex-child actor who had gotten the part by sitting in some producer’s lap. She looked so young, Carla bitterly thought, that they should trade roles; girl looked like she just got out of Huggies anyways. Maybe that was the point, though: To have adults acting like babies while a baby taught them how to act like an adult. Visual Irony. “Hi,” Donaghy’s smile was saccharinely over-sweet and obviously fake, “I’m looking forward to us working together. This’ll be fun.” Carla returned the fake smile. “Same!” She’d met enough girls like this one in high school. Real queen-bee-mean-girl type who would kick dirt in your face the moment the teacher wasn’t looking. She hadn’t come here to relive high school, Carla reminded herself. The trick was to just keep things professional and everything would be fine. This wasn’t junior year of Drama Club all over again. “Alright! Now that everyone is acquainted,” Max spoke up, “let’s get to filming.” He looked over to Carla, but something about his gaze gave Carla the feeling that he was looking through her and not at her. “Now, Carla, I’m told that you haven’t had a chance to review the script yet. Correct?” Mutely, Carla nodded, suddenly feeling small and “less-than”. “Not a problem,” Max waved his hand Carla’s insecurity. “Your dialogue is fairly basic. Debra is doing most of the heavy lifting. We’ll give you a peek where needed before rolling. But just in case,” he went on, “we’ll start with a scene where you don’t talk.” Apprehensively, Carla licked her lips. “Okay. Let’s go with that.” “Places, everyone!” Max shouted. “Come with me, my dear. Let’s chat.” Suddenly the kindly grandfather, Max offered his wrinkled hand to Carla, the little girl. She took it and Max escorted her over to the toy box big enough to bury someone in. “This scene is fairly simple,” Max explained. “Little Miss Lucy has just come to Little Land and she’s staying with Mr. and Mrs. Petite. This scene is where we meet your character. You’ll be playing with the blocks, and generally ignoring them while they talk about you. I’ll have the camera following Debra around, but she’s the only one allowed to break the fourth wall. You just act naturally. Understood?” The directions were so simple, Carla didn’t know whether or not to be insulted. Besides, she hated it when people said “act naturally”. “Play with blocks. Don’t look at them or the camera. Got it.” Max’s lips puckered like he was sucking on a lemon. Once again, he squinted at her, sizing her up. “Let’s see if we can get this done in one take, shall we?” Carla toddled over to the pile of alphabet blocks and went down to her knees so she could begin properly playing with the little wooden cubes. The other thespians, meanwhile, gathered downstage and took their places closer to the camera. “Quiet on the set!” Max yelled into the megaphone. Soon there was complete silence and Carla was left with only the sound of the padding on her ass rustling as she gently shifted her weight. God, she hoped that wouldn’t be picked up by the boom mics. “Roll film! Aaaaand action!” The briefest of pauses loomed as the actors launched into character. “And here’s our baby girl,” Miranda said as Carla stacked blocks in the background. “She’s the apple of our eye.” “Gosh,” Carla heard Debra say with the most over-the-top delivery possible, “she sure is big, isn’t she? She looks bigger than me.” “She is,” Randy recited the script. “She’s our Big Baby Bella.” “How old is she?” Debra did her best impression of a curious five year old. “Twenty-two,” both actors playing Bella’s parents spoke in unison. Carla froze and looked up at the scene, her eyes wide. Her character was supposed to be how old?! Debra gave a fake, hollow laugh like a child who didn’t get the joke but knew something was supposed to be funny. “Hahahahaha! That’s too old to be a baby.” Carla had no idea that part of impersonating a child meant having the acting range of one. Why the hell wasn’t Max shouting cut? “Don’t you know?” Randy continued as if Debra hadn’t fed him the line like a total amateur. “This is Little Land!” “No one grows up in Little Land unless they want to,” Miranda said the next line. A wave of revelation hit Carla. The block she was holding tumbled from her hand, almost knocking down the pre-constructed tower. Ay, dios mio! Fuckity fuck fuck! Carla wasn’t an adult playing a little kid who didn’t want to potty train; she was playing an adult that couldn’t be bothered to stop pissing her pants! Debra kept the scene going, and Max wasn’t stopping her, despite her acting. “Gee whiz! Can I meet her?” Where was the cut? Someone should be yelling cut by now! Acting this bad couldn’t be considered star quality, even for a kids’ show. “Sure!” both “Mom” and “Dad” said in unison. Randy and Miranda followed the blocking and walked over to Carla and began murmuring coos and pantomimed pinching her cheeks and being deeply fascinated by her block tower. Meanwhile, Debra was mugging for the camera and talking to the little tykes in their living rooms once this show aired. “A big baby! I gotta see this for myself!” the ex-child star said to the camera. “Come on!” she waved the camera man to follow her. Debra trotted over to where the rest of the cast were waiting. Carla caught a glimpse of Debra staring down at her from the other side of the block tower; the trace of a sneer on the star’s face before the camera wheeled around and put them all in frame. Carla did her best to continue playing with the blocks as the other cast members loomed over her. She wasn’t supposed to pay attention to them, she reminded herself. Only the blocks mattered. Only the blocks. Become one with the blocks. “So she’s really a grown up?” Debra, as “Little Miss Lucy” asked. “Oh yes,” Miranda said, “but she never really wanted to grow up, so she’s still just a big baby.” “But that’s not how growing up works,” Debra put her hands on her hips and stuck her bottom lip out in a bit of blocking and delivery that would make the Olsen Twins seem Oscar worthy. “It is here,” Randy kept the scene going. “So our Big Baby Bella still lives here with us. She sleeps in her crib, plays with her toys, and goes on walks with us in her stroller.” “Does she at least go potty like a big kid?” Debra recited. “Oh, goodness no!” Miranda laughed. It sounded genuine, too. That was how you laughed. “Bella isn’t potty-trained.” Even though it was in the script, Carla felt incredibly humiliated. She leaned back on her heels and pulled the hem of her dress downward, trying in vain to conceal her studio-mandated shame. “But whyyyy?” Debra as “Lucy” asked. If the embarrassment of being diapered on camera didn’t kill her, Debra’s “acting” just might. “She too busy playing to use the potty.” Randy said. “Speaking of which,” Miranda paused, standing over Carla. Carla was now acutely aware of the cameraman pivoting around the scene and getting Carla’s backside closer into frame. Oh no, oh no, oh no! She felt the actress playing her mother pushing down on her shoulder and Carla felt she had no choice; dropping to all fours. For all intents and purposes, she was improvising, and the first rule of improvisation was to never say “no”. Then, to Carla’s horror, she felt the tiny hem of her dress being lifted. No! Miranda wouldn’t, would she? No one had shared this blocking with her. She hadn’t been warned of this! She didn’t consent to this! This wasn’t part of the deal! Deal or no deal, Carla felt the weight of the camera’s gaze upon her, and feeling no other choice, shuddered in revulsion as Miranda’s hand reached in and gave the back of her diaper a firm squeeze and finished with a light pat as if to confirm A complete stranger had without warning just violated her personal space, and touched her as casually as any parent might check their own child’s Luvs. Carla cheeks flushed hot with humiliation at the act. The world went blurry as tears came unbidden to her eyes. “Looks like Big Baby Bella needs a diaper change,” Miranda’s words rang out in Carla’s ears. Diaper change?! They weren’t going to do that on camera, were they? This was supposed to be a kid’s show, not a porn shoot. Good God, what had Nick gotten her into? Her breathing became shallow and Carla felt herself beginning to break out into a cold sweat. Chest heaving, Carla inhaled deeply so that she could scream her head off. If no one else was going to stop this lunacy, she would. Thankfully, Max beat her to the punch. “CUT! NO, NO, NO! WE CAN’T HAVE ANY OF THAT! THIS IS A CHILDREN’S SHOW FOR GOODNESS SAKES!” The diapered actress leapt to her feet, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to give the director the biggest hug. Standing up from his chair, Max stomped over to her. Evidently, he wasn’t in the mood for a hug. Stone faced and silent, Max stood in front of them with his arms crossed. “Do you think so little of our target audience?” “Excuse me?” was all Carla could think to say. She looked over her shoulder, to check if Debra was standing right behind her or something. “Children aren’t stupid, Miss Garcia,” Max said. “They know what a wet diaper looks like; especially when said diaper has-fade-when-wet designs. You’ve still got all of your butterflies!” He pointed at Carla’s padded crotch. Carla lifted up her dress and gawked down at the gaudy purple and white garment wrapped around her pelvis. She hadn’t noticed before, but all the butterflies on the diaper went from front to back in a straight line right down the middle. They wanted her to pee in this thing? On T.V.?! No wonder her predecessor had quit so suddenly. “And while we’re at it, your acting left something to be desired too.” the director criticized. “Your manager led us to believe you were capable for this role.” Her pride at stake, Carla got defensive. “You told me to not say anything and play with the blocks.” “Yes, but what choices did you make?” Max pressed. “That wasn’t Big Baby Bella playing with blocks and then getting her diaper checked, that was Carla Garcia pretending to play with blocks and getting her ass patted. You need to get into your character’s head, more, Miss Garcia.” The absurdity of the situation was quickly being lost to Hammerschmidt’s scathing criticism. Her desire to defend herself was being superseded by the pain of her throat tightening up and feelings of helplessness as even more tears threatened to spring forth. Maybe she really wasn’t that great of an actress. Maybe she only thought she was good. Maybe the auditions had a point. Max turned on his heel and took a few steps. He looked over his shoulder at Carla. “Walk with me.” Suddenly numb and shocked into submission, Carla obeyed and waddled after him. “Your character isn’t some mentally invalid simpleton, Miss Garcia,” Max told Carla. “She’s both victim and victor. Like our target audience, she was faced with the pressures of growing up and was too afraid to even make the attempt. Just like a young child, she fears growing up because some part of her thinks that being more independent means her parents will love her less. The only difference between her and a real child is Little Land gave her the option to not grow up.” This production had gone from kids’ T.V. to a course in societal philosophy. “What does that have to do with me playing with blocks?” “At this point in the story,” Max elaborated, “Bella is in complete control of her tiny world in the same way that a baby is in control of its parents. She calls the shots. Her world is complete. She’s playing with her blocks in a wet diaper because she’s in control by being so utterly dependent. That’s why toddlers do it. Their diapers aren’t their problems. They’re their parents’ problems.” “Her diaper isn’t her problem,” the words came out of her Carla before she fully realized she had said them. “Her diaper is somebody else’s problem. Lucy isn’t my problem,” Carla slipped into character suddenly, “she’s Mommy and Daddy’s problem. And I’m playing blocks the same way that a Queen might play chess while waiting for her subjects to come adore her.” Max snapped his fingers. His eyes lit up. For an instant he was Professor Higgins and she was Eliza Doolittle I think she’s got it! “Exactly! Now you’re getting it. Now, go ahead and wet yourself so that we can get this on camera.” Reality came crashing back down on Carla’s head. He wanted her to do what? “Can’t we just pour a cup of water down there, or something?” “Water never really flows quite right,” Max shook his head. “It must come from the source, so to speak; more authentic that way.” “I…I…I…” Carla reached for an excuse. “I don’t have to go right now.” It was true enough. Max held his forehead in his hand and seemed aggravated. “Actors,” he muttered. “Very well. Let’s get you something to drink, and do another scene while things are…progressing. Someone get the big baby a bottle!” he yelled before walking back to his director’s chair. “We only have the nursery to work with today! So let’s get as many of those scenes in the can as possible. We’ll do the invitation scene in five minutes!” “Thank you, five!” a bevy of shouts came from the actors. Carla’s voice was the meekest among them. The almost motherly, but not unwelcome presence of the assistant director came up to the diapered actress. “Rough first scene,” Justine said. It wasn’t a question. “Don’t worry, if he’s berating you and having you overthink things about your character it means he likes you.” She shoved a particularly large baby bottle- close to two liters by the look of it- into Carla’s hands. “Drink this. Bottle is courtesy of the prop department for the kitchen scenes tomorrow. Apple juice is compliments of the caterer.” “Do I…” Carla gulped. “Do I really have to…you know?” “Now you know why the last Big Baby Bella quit,” Justine said before adding. “Just think of it as another way to get into character.” A loud crash then drew Justine’s attention and the assistant director jogged away to deal with some new disaster. “MAKE THAT TEN MINUTES!” Max’s voice echoed off the sound stage’s walls. “Thank you, ten!” Now with a whole minutes left to her, and still wanting the job, Carla had little choice but to insert the rubber teat into her mouth, tilt her head back, and drink herself sick. Carla hated apple juice, but she was on a mission. She had never consciously thought of her throat having muscles before but as she forcefully gulped down mouthful after mouthful of the amber colored liquid- a liquid very similar in color to what would end up splashing into her underwear – she felt she was really giving herself a workout. Breathing through her nose and not stopping until the bottle prop was drained, Carla guzzled down the stuff with roughly five minutes left; letting out a hefty belch that echoed so loudly several cameramen and sound guys stopped and nodded appreciatively. “Good one,” she heard one of them compliment her. Not exactly the kind of positive feedback she was looking for, but okay. “Someone’s getting into character,” Debra Donaghy sashayed over to Carla. “Careful or someone might accidentally think you’re enjoying this.” The girl’s eyes sparkled at Carla with a smug sense of superiority. “Max told me to come run some lines with you real quick.” “I haven’t read the-“ Carla began. “Don’t bother,” Debra held up her hand. “You’ve basically got two lines. First,” she said “you wait for me to stop talking, and you say ‘But I love my diapees’. Then, you wait for me to stop talking again, and when I hold out my hand, you take it and say ‘Otay’. Don’t fuck those up, and you’re golden. It’s so easy, even a…whatever-you-are could do it.” Between the director being an accidental jerk, and the star of the show being a royal bitch, the inside of Carla’s cheek was starting to get sore. It seemed her initial instincts about Debra had been spot on. Guiltily, Carla found herself wishing that a pacifier was a part of her costume. At least then she’d be chewing on a piece of rubber, instead of the inside of her mouth. A flash of chestnut hair, and glimpse of a well-worn clip on tie on the periphery of her vision let Carla know that Nick was nearby. “Well, she’s a little c-word, isn’t she?” Nick whispered. “Nick…” Carla warned. “I’m in no mood.” Evidently, Nick couldn’t resist himself. “What? Cutie is a c-word, too,” Nick said, winking. He paused a beat before continuing. “Sorry I’m late. Had a call to take, other clients, but I wanted to see how things were going for you.” “Your phone died, didn’t it?” Carla called him out on his bullshit. Nick blanched. “Yeeaaah. Also, I was bored, so I figured I’d come watch. Kinda sexy getting to watch you get felt up like that. Your ass looks bigger, too. In a good way, I mean.” Jackass. Flirt. Jackass flirt. “That c-word,” Carla told her agent, “is the star of this little circus.” “So?” “Yeah, that’s so.” Carla replied Her agent shook his head. “No. I mean, ‘so’ as in ‘so what? Richie Cunningham was supposed to be the star in Happy Days until Fonzie came along. Breakout characters are a thing, even in kid’s T.V.” Bullwinkle. Popeye. The Smurfs. Elmo. All of them hadn’t been meant to be more than bit supporting characters, and they all got their day in the sun. Maybe Carla could make this thing work. “Too bad this is a one shot deal, y’know?” Nick’s words were a sucker punch to Carla’s hope. If Carla had had any apple juice left in her bottle, she would have done a spit take just then. “One shot deal? What do you mean a one shot deal?” Nick cocked an eyebrow and then frowned. His normally casual demeanor was replaced with genuine concern. “Haven’t they let you read the script, yet? End of the episode, you get potty trained and move out. Whole show’s about Little Miss Lucy helping a bunch of people grow up.” “Nick…” Carla whimpered. The giant baby bottle slipped from her grasp and rattled around on the floor. She didn’t know if she was cursing him or pleading for his help. It might have been little bit of both. “Nothing I can do, babe,” Nick sighed, “This gig is a guest spot, not main cast.” “Places!” the call went out from Max Hammerschmidt and echoed around the set. The diapered actress sulked back to the set. This was supposed to be her big break, not a random guest spot where she barely got two lines. She no longer noticed the waddle she was forced to walk with. Nor did the crinkle of soft plastic ring in her ears. Her diaper wasn’t her problem; her dumb luck and high expectations were. The next hour or so passed by in a blur. Carla mindlessly recited one or two word lines and set up strawman arguments on the merits of not growing up while the star of the show butchered children’s programming. “But I love my diapees.” “Otay.” “CUT! Next scene! Are you ready to wet, yet?” “I don’t wanna be a big girl!” “I never thought of it that way.” “CUT! Next scene! Are you ready to wet, yet?” And so the dreary dance went. “Alright,” Max said, “let’s see if we can do the potty training scene. Miss Garcia, you’ll be relieved to know that you won’t actually have to relieve yourself in this scene. We can add the appropriate sounds in post production.” The prop department carried in a comically large pink potty chair and placed it square in the nursery. “Unless of course you’re ready to wet, Miss Garcia. Then we can delay the potty training scene for the introduction and the diaper change scene.” For what had to be the sixth time that day, Carla shook her head, even though by now the apple juice was working its magic and her bladder was crying out for release. Carla was just far too potty trained to use the garment imprisoning her waist. But her diaper wasn’t really the problem, was it? “Very well, places!” Carla walked to the giant potty and stood opposite of Debra. This was the big scene where Little Miss Lucy convinced Big Baby Bella to grow up and leave Little Town. To leave her diapers behind and go be a big girl. Her diaper wasn’t her problem. Debra leaned in close and hissed, “Look on the bright side, you can add today to your resume when you eventually get desperate and go into porn.” Her diaper wasn’t her problem. This bitch was. Carla was better than her. She was a better actress. Hell, she was a better person. But she wasn’t going to get a chance to prove it; not now, anyways. Her diaper wasn’t her problem. “AAAAAAAAAAND-“ Max’s voice rang out. Time slowed to a stop as Carla had what is often called “A moment of clarity.” Just as “crazy” and “eccentric” are separated by degrees of success, so too is it the case when something inside someone “snaps” and something in someone “clicks”. Between the ticks of the clock- when the potty training scene was about to be filmed- was when something in Carla either “clicked” or “snapped”. Time to roll the dice. “ACTION!” Carla finally relaxed her bladder, sweet relief filling her up as she filled her diaper. The thing gained weight as it absorbed her urine and was already starting to sag a bit. The newfound weight of the diaper felt like the weight of newfound confidence. If she could wet herself on command, she could do anything. The best part was, she felt like she was metaphorically pissing all over Debra’s performance. Also, it admittedly didn’t feel that bad. “…that’s why it’s time for you to grow up, Bella.” Debra finished delivering the stilted, poorly written lines. “Now are you ready to go potty and stop being Big Baby Bella, and start being Big Girl Bella?” “No.” There was a pause. Debra shook her head in disbelieve. This wasn’t in the script. “No? What do you mean no?! That isn’t in the scri-“ “I was fine until you came here, Lucy” Carla spoke over the brat in front of her. “I had a Mommy and Daddy who took care of me and I got everything I wanted. It was perfect! Nobody really wants to grow up, and I didn’t have to. But then you came along and ruined everything!” Debra tried to improvise to keep up with Carla. “But…but…your diapers…!” “My diapers weren’t my problem. Someone else always took care of them for me. I was a princess,” Carla said. She stomped up to Debra and poked her in the chest; the fantastic warmth in her nether regions emboldening her. “You. You’re my problem. I’m not growing up, and I’m going to stop you from making all the other people in Little Land grow up, too!” “CUT! CUT! CUT!” Max was waving his arms frantically. “What on earth was that?” Carla shrugged nonchalantly. “Just made some different choices is all.” Max’s face now matched his tacky scarf and beret. “I don’t like going off script, Miss Garcia.” “I had an idea about that, actually.” Carla told him. “The script sucks. This show sucks. It’s missing something.” Max wouldn’t let her finish. “You’re fired, get off my set. I refuse to deal with some prima donnas.” Carla lifted up the hem of her dress and gave the director a full view of her diaper; butterflies all gone. “I was just getting into character, Max. It’s like you said. Diapers aren’t my problem.” Max’s eyes darted down to Carla’s pee stained crotch. Then, perhaps for the first time, he made proper eye contact with the girl and something in his face changed. It was as if he were seeing her for the first time. “What did you have in mind?” “Show needs a villain,” Carla said. “It needs a brat to act as a counterpoint for Little Miss Lucy.” Debra started to whine. “But Maaaaax-“ “Not now, Debra,” Max shushed. He returned his attention to Carla. “Go on.” “It’s like you said, Max. Kids aren’t stupid. They’ll know a one sided argument when they hear it. Make Big Baby Bella be the one encouraging the kids to stay babies and Little Miss Lucy the one to talk them out of it. Little Miss Lucy wins in the end, of course.” Carla stuck her tongue out at Debra. Little Miss Lucy might win on T.V., but Debra Donaghy was losing this battle in real life. Max started stroking his drawn in mustache in contemplation. “That’s not in the script,” he finally said, “but it might just be better. This could be just the thing we need, like an evil Dora or something.” Carla smiled and shot Debra a look as Max began pacing. “Yeah, something like that.” “We’ll have to do rewrites of course.” “Of course.” “I’ll see if the monkeys in the writers’ room can make the necessary script adjustments.” Max declared. “You go ahead and freshen up. Get out of that costume for now. I’m not sure how long it’ll take, probably an hour at least for the scenes I’m going to need.” “No thanks,” Carla smiled, looking down at her wet diaper before giving the sodden thing a firm pat. “I think I’m going to go play with some blocks for a while instead. My Nick-Nick can change me on the table over there if I need it.” The End. The above story was done as part of my request thread and was a request by C.S. Fox. I hope he enjoyed it.

I know this chapter a little short compared to the other side but I swear the next chapter should be worth the wait. After you read this next chapter I would like to hear from you guys as to what you think will happen next or what you would like to happen next. I’m just interested to hear your insights. Chapter 7 Once again the uncomfortable padding of a diaper sat between his legs and despite how happy it seemed to make make Becky, Levi still hated everything about the padded garment. “Becky can’t I do anything else for you? Does it have to be a...” Levi couldn’t bring himself to say the word “diaper.” “Oh honey,” she reached down and grabbed his diapered crotch, which caused him to stiffen, “Like I said you belong in diapers little one. And just look at that cute little bottom.” She swatted his butt and he yelped. “And you had better get used to the word Levi because you will be hearing it a lot. Now, stop complaining and come watch some TV with me.” She walked over to the couch and grabbed the TV remote, turning it on. Levi hesitated, then slowly walked over to join her. Levi was at least glad her curtains were closed; as to hid the fact that he was naked except for the diaper between his legs. Levi made to sit down next to her, but she instead grabbed his arm and pulled him down onto her lap and wrapped her arms around him, cupping his crotch with both of her hands. Levi blushed at the position but he couldn’t deny it was nice cuddling with her. “I hope you like The Lion King because we can’t be friends if you don’t.” Becky put on the movie in question and gave Levi a peck on the cheek. Levi, in fact, loved The Lion King and was soon singing along with the movie. “You have a good voice little one. I think I may have to take you out to karaoke some time.” “I’m always up for karaoke, though honesty I’ve never been.” “Really? Well we must fix that!” The two’s conversation went on like this for about twenty minutes before the first cramp hit. Levi’s stomach growled loudly and he felt a twinge or pain deep in his belly. He instantly remembered the feeling of something being put in his butt during the last diaper change and he suddenly had a good idea as to what it might have been. Levi turned around to see Becky’s huge smile and he felt his suspicions were true. “Can I please...” “I’m going to tell you now,” she cut him off, “I gave you a chance to use the potty but you obviously don’t want to be a big boy. You are much more appropriately dressed now baby boy and the potty is off limits to babies.” “But,” Levi started to say, but at that moment a larger cramp hit and he doubled over in pain. “No buts little mister. Now hush and watch the movie.” Levi tried to focus on the movie, but every time he was able to focus even a little, another cramp hit and with it came a fresh bout of pain. Within ten minutes he felt himself start to shake as he tried to hold back the inevitable, and sweat started dripping down his forehead as well. Levi could have held it longer, if at that moment, Becky hadn’t started bouncing her leg. Once the bouncing had commenced Levi’s attempts were instantly thwarted. He felt the pressure release all at once and felt warm mush spread out beneath him, as he groaned loudly. At the same moment Levi’s bladder let go and the front of his diaper grew warm as he messed himself from both ends. Becky’s hands, which were still on his crotch, began to rub Levi’s wet diaper, and Levi heard a large intake a breath emanate from her. Even as he continued to wet and mess himself, Levi felt himself growing harder as her hands continued to tease the outside of his diaper. However, when it was all done and Levi felt like there was nothing left inside of him, Becky stopped rubbing and pushed him to his feet. Catching him off guard, Becky grabbed the back of Levi’s waistband and pulled out the back of his diaper. “Oh my! Did you really just poop yourself?” Levi knew well enough that she was the cause of his accident, but that didn’t stop him growing even more embarrassed. “I made the right choice in diapering you didn’t I? I never would have thought your potty training would be this bad.” Levi tried not to gag as he started to smell his own waste. “I think I may need to re-potty train you myself.” Levi looked down at his feet, unwilling to look up into her eyes. At that moment, he did in fact feel like an un-potty trained little toddler and all he wanted right now was to be clean and out of his, now sagging, diaper. “It will be a long process, but I promise we will get you potty trained Levi.” She put a finger under his chin and forced his face up to look at hers then, without a word, she kissed him full on the mouth. The kissed lasted, what felt like thirty seconds, and when they pulled apart, he felt a lot better. “Now I believe my stinky baby needs a diaper change.” “Wow I really do have a stinky baby,” Becky said as she opened up his diaper and revealed the mess within. She wasn’t wrong. As soon as the diaper was opened, the strong smell of poop hit his nostrils and he wanted nothing more than to take a shower and rid himself of the smell and the diaper. Levi looked away as she started wiping him down. It was a long process and it took another five minutes before she announced he was clean. Levi went to stand up but Becky put a hand on his chest and pushed him back down. “I never said you could get up little one.” “But I...” Levi’s words caught in his throat as she pulled out another diaper and started unfolding it. “Your stomach still has remnants of that suppository in it and I don’t want you making a mess on my floor.” She lifted his legs up to his chest and slipped the diaper underneath him. “So you will be in diapers for a next few hours at least.” She powdered his bottom again and then pulled he diaper up between his legs, taping it shut. “Or longer if I deem it necessary.” The rest of the day was uneventful compared to the events earlier. They finished the movie and during that time Levi, did in fact, have to deal with the the lasting effects of the suppository. Along with small messy accidents, Becky wouldn’t let him use the bathroom and he was forced to wet his diaper instead. By the time night came, he required another diaper change, and despite his protests, he was once again diapered for bed. “You have been such a good boy for your babysitter,” Becky said as she pulled the blanket over him. “Now I have some things to do before I join you, but I want you to try and get some sleep.” He opened his mouth to ask what kind of things she needed to do, but she pushed the pacifier in his open mouth and she just said “Shhhh.” Levi knew better than to speak once she brought out the pacifier and he did his best to obey and just fall asleep.

i just go

Ok so I’ve decided to write today so I should have a chapter posted in a few hours. Just off to get in the mind set.

If you think you will do enemas more than rarely, I suggest PurEnema Silicone Enema kit, available on Amazon and other places. They do cost a little more but the quality is so much better. The cheaper ones, in my experience like to leak. The inside of their tubing is smaller. Their clamp is not adjustable. You get the usual small nozzle vs. a variety with the PurEnema. And in different capacities. I really only needed a 2 quart but the 4 quart was close in price so I bought that one. I don't get paid for this, but I've tried the usual ones and was disappointed. Buy the good one and in the long run you will be happier.

What rustypins said: i use girlsgoodnites and you can't flood those, but they are fun to wet a little at a time - ive gotten good at that ;-> Also, once you get comfortable wetting, you might find flooding and leaking an equal amount of fun.

So, I've been trying to find different narrative voices to try out and see what speaks to me. I did the sissy, typical abdl story thing, which I will continue, don't poop your pants! I did a dark short story that probably no one should read, it's seriously so dark that it screams "Wakanda forever!" after you read it. Now I'm here with something unlike either of those two things, a love story! Yay! I've never written a love story and I've only written one short story, so this may or may not be a complete dumpster fire outside the zoo on animal haircut day kind of terrible, but it made me happy to write it and maybe one of you lovelies will find it enjoyable. Anyway, I'd very much appreciate it if you told me what you thought in the comments below, if you liked it, great, if you hated it, also great, let's talk about it and see if we can't make me a great writer when I grow up. Anyway, here's my new jam! Her Lullaby By: RambleLamb The screen glowed in the dark of the room, bathing the bed and it's occupant in the cold light, destroying what useful eyesight she still had left. A quiet yawn competed with the sound of the laptop's fan ramping up as the young woman in the bed stared at the screen in anticipation. Without taking her eyes from the screen she felt around the bed, searching the sea of cutesy, colorful sheets for her prize. Her search ended with disappointment and had to be called off prematurely to rub her sore and puffy eyes, the hours she'd spent crying up to now having taken their toll on her physically as well as mentally. Her search resumed and quickly bore fruit as she found her pacifier down near her knee, her pale white skin glowingly in the monitor light making her look like some kind of primordial cave monster, a wretchedly adorable primordial cave monster, but a primordial cave monster all the same. Pacifier in mouth, she shifted her position, the plastic sheet beneath her childish bedding crinkling with deafening loudness in the quiet night air of her bedroom, and laid on her stomach, moving the laptop to the end of the bed. Fresh thoughts of her latest romantic failure bubbled up to the surface of her mind and the tears started to form again and she buried her head in her folded arms and began to sob. She wasn't sad that he'd broken things off with her, her low self esteem and shallow belief in herself and her value as a human being ensured that she was prepared for that inevitable outcome from the jump, no, she was sad because she'd made a fool of herself by trying to step out of her comfort zone and play the role of a sexy, normal girl and that had gone over about as well as a dog trying to teach a university calculus class. She knew her place. She knew her station in life. She knew that her role was that of cute little girl that can't seem to handle using the potty. How could she forget that when the thick padding around her waist was currently swollen with hours of reminder juice? No, she knew who and what she was and what was expected of her, or rather, what she assumed was expected of her, and she'd stepped up and out anyway and now here she was, alone on a Friday night waiting for a response from the person she actually wanted. She'd gotten together with Chad, the name voted "Most Likely To Ensure Your Kid Grows Up to be a Douche Canoe", out of desperation more than anything else. She was lonely and horny and he was there and conscious so she'd approached him as he left the counter at the coffee shop. Chad was a government issued "Red Flag Checklist", and she saw a lot of them but rationalized that since her loneliness was reaching Sarah McLachlan benefit concert for shivering animals in cages and alleys levels of depressing she needed to ignore his platinum blonde hair tied into a man bun and put aside the fact that he was dressed like a tennis instructor that was having a midlife crisis and decided he wanted to be in a 90's era Seattle grunge band. She had to overlook the "electronic cigarette" in his hand, ready to deliver that sweet sweet S'Mores smelling vapor into his lungs and into a cloud that everyone in the immediate area would just have to deal with because hashtag yoloswag. Despite being a completely socially retarded person and having the anxiety level of a chihuahua in a mosh pit when faced with the prospect of talking with people face to face, she'd done well, even though she asked if he wanted to get coffee sometime while standing in a coffee shop with her already holding her beverage and him waiting for his to be finished being prepared. She left the coffee shop with his number and practically ran home to share her news with her friend. The site was a forum for stories and discussions about the lifestyle and fetish of adults wearing diapers and pretending to be little kids and babies in their behavior. She'd joined the site to share her writings, but was also hoping that that would open the door to meet new people and make friends, possibly even find someone to be more than friends with. She wasn't sure whether a Mommy or a Daddy was what she wanted for herself, but she knew that she wanted someone compassionate and patient, someone that would be able to manage her emotional shortcomings and mental hangups. She sent her message sharing the accomplishment of asking a guy out and waited to see if she'd get a reply. She smiled to herself as she put her dirty blonde hair into a loose ponytail and heard the chirp from her phone followed by the little red number '1' popping up on the little letter icon in the top corner of the page. She wiggled her bottom happily, wetting her diaper a little as she clicked the icon and brought up the response. "Meeting" the girl that went by the username "ApexofEloquence" was something unexpected. The new girl, deciding to beat people to the punch, had decided on the name "BigDumbBaby" and had stumbled upon of one of the prolific writer's stories while posting her own first attempt at writing. She drank the story up, entranced by the deft use of language that was reserved for best selling authors, not someone on a diaper fetish story board. The juxtaposition of this unfathomably amazing writing prowess in a realm full of barely literate masturbatory fantasies given life was intoxicating to her and she shared her thoughts in a comment that basically boiled down to a small child babbling about how wonderful their new toy was while no one actively listened and just kind of nodded and smiled. Apex took the praise well and established similar interests in the response she'd posted, leaving Baby full to the brim with happiness over the spark of a connection, a chance encounter turning toward possible friendship. As more comments and more responses were filed Baby found herself feeling more than friendly toward Apex. She'd never been in love before and had certainly never been loved before, at least not by anyone that wasn't legally obligated to love her by the laws of shitting out a child, but no one had ever loved her romantically before. When the personal messages had started was when Baby realized she was in love with Apex. Every word that this woman used filled a role within a sentence and that sentence took its place within a paragraph of opulence, pregnant with emotion and raw strength to move a person at their very core. Baby read and reread each message, delighting in them as she swam in the feelings of infatuation, her face plastered with a ridiculously happy smile that nothing in her life had managed to ever come close to replicating. Baby had confessed her love to Apex on a whim one night, her heart racing and her diaper warming as she hovered the mouse over the "send" icon. Her mind swirled with possible outcomes, rejection mostly, imagining Apex turning on her in an uncharacteristically cruel manner, laughing at the naivety of this young girl that conducted herself in the general population of the forum like an overgrown toddler with the attention span of a piece of cotton. She imagined Apex posting the confession for all to see and everyone laughing at her and commenting about what a stupid baby she was for thinking she had any kind of chance with someone as universally respected as Apex. Regret filled Baby as she sat numbly staring at the screen, chiding herself for thinking any good could come of this gambit. She wished she could take it all back but assumed that the length of time between sending the confession and receiving a response was due to Apex reading it and possibly having to clean up an unfortunate wetting accident because she'd laughed so hard at Baby's expense and thus deleting it now would serve no purpose, the damage had been done. Baby had fallen asleep crying, her pacifier doing little to quell her embarrassed sobs, and she dreamed that night of Apex towering over her, pointing and laughing, the sound booming in Baby's ears like a thunderous drum. She found herself in a crib with a dunce cap on her head, pages of her story strewn about the crib bedding with large red F's on them circled hastily like a teacher with little time or patience for an underperforming student had graded them between sips of heavily "Irished" coffee. Baby had stood up and toddled to the side of the crib yelling pleas of mercy at the giant woman, but every word came out not as the intended word, but as a drool soaked, infantile babble which only brought further peals of laughter from her tormentor. Baby began to wail in earnest, dropping to her bottom in resignation as the air above the crib was filled with more giants, all laughing at her derisively, shrinking down and morphing into a mobile above her head as she looked up with tear blurred vision. She clutched her stuffed otter to her and began to suck her thumb, pausing as the stuffed otter struggled to pull free of her grasp, revealing Apex's head on the stuffed otter's body. "God, you're pathetic." the Apex otter spat in disgust. Baby tried to protest but remembered that her words were meaningless anyway and continued slurping noisily on her thumb as she watched the Apex otter climb her side and march across her tummy. "Did you really think I would want to have anything to do with a sniveling infant like you?" the Apex otter sneered. "What would we even talk about?" it asked as it sat down crisscross applesauce on her tummy. Baby hiccuped sullenly between sobs and babbled wetly around her thumb. The Apex otter laughed uproariously at her, falling onto its back and kicking its stubby stuffed legs, holding its stomach as it rolled around. "I-I-I can just imagine me starting the conversation with an insightful anecdote about the duality of man and you'll smile at me and fill your little diaper." the Apex otter said between gasps for air and giggles. Baby flushed crimson and munched her thumb as she began to grunt and- She'd woken up just as she'd fallen asleep, crying, her feelings of inadequacy and sadness compounded by her dream which was thankfully fuzzing out of her memory even as she rubbed her wet eyes with the back of her hands and retrieved her pacifier from next to her pillow and put it into her mouth sullenly. She looked up at her laptop, the screen black after hours of inactivity. She stuck her leg out and nudged the mouse with her toe bringing the screen to life once again, revealing a little letter icon with a red number "1" on it. She sucked nervously on her pacifier and leaned forward to move to the end of the bed and put her hand on the mouse, moving up to the letter icon and taking a deep breath before clicking onto it. Baby, I can't tell you how wonderful it is to know that you have feelings for me. I confess that I've been feeling similarly about you. I find you to be quite delightful to talk to, you're funny and I love the words you use in your story. Your writing style is very entertaining and I find myself rereading every message you send me just because of how lovely a picture it paints about who you are as a person. I would love to continue talking to you and learn more about you and see where things go from there. Thank you for reaching out to me, I greatly admire the braveness you've demonstrated by taking a chance to share your feelings with me, I think you're a wonderful girl and I'm very proud of you as I know how hard taking the initiative in this instance must have been for you. I can't wait to hear from you! All my love, Apex Baby squealed loudly, her pacifier dropping from her mouth as the near sonic frequency of her excitement filled the room and she flopped backward onto her bed giggling happily and kicking her legs. She wiggled her way back down to her computer and typed as fast as her excited little fingers could go. Apex, I am so ridiculously happy right now, you have no idea! She stopped typing, her mind working on the downsides of being overly eager with Apex, proving herself to be a silly little girl with no restraint that just vomited up all her thoughts without even trying to collect them into some kind of coherent message. She thought of all the wonderful words Apex used to describe her, wonderful among them, she thought of those words and the tone with which they were strung together. Apex obviously cared for her, that much was apparent even without the girl's admission, but the more Baby thought about it, the more she began to notice a pattern in the messages of the past and went back through them to confirm. She found that every message from the first to the most recent was written in such a way that it was clear Apex was more of a Big, the term for a caregiver or dominant partner in the community they were currently chatting in, to Baby's far more little demeanor. When Baby sent her messages out they were written by a girl that was happy to have a friend, excited to share things with that friend, eager to garner the approval and praise of that friend, like a small child with an older sibling or parent. The love was there, but it wasn't romantic. Baby didn't want to be with Apex in a carnal way, she just wanted to be with her. Rereading her confession message she found that she'd basically told Apex how great she was and how pretty her words were and how jealous she was of her talent but the important message, the one that she'd agonized over and had bad dreams about was relegated to one small statement at the end, "You make me feel little and safe with your pretty, soft words. I wish I could sew them into a blankie or jammies and have them keep me warm and safe all night always.". Baby wondered if Apex was romantically interested in her or if she simply saw her as a little girl to be cared for. Baby furrowed her brow wondering if that was such a bad thing, on the one hand she'd never been romantic with anyone before and the stress of that was something she wasn't sure she could deal with while also sorting out this tangle of crossed wires she found herself bound up in, on the other hand, if Apex was interested in being someone in her life that looked out for her and wanted to take care of her what would be the problem there? After all, Apex had been there for her when things had gone south with Chad, her words calming the crying girl almost instantly, the sweet sentiments about Baby's value and worth as a person making her feel as if nothing else in the world existed beyond the two of them and she was light as a feather being swaddled in the other girl's adoration as the words melodically flowed around bringing her serenity in her time of turmoil. She smiled as she thought of these feelings and started writing. My dearest Apex, I've been struggling to organize my thoughts and make them make sense to me so that I can present them to you in a way that will make sense to you. I thought when I wrote you that I was telling you how in love with you I was, but somehow I'd written something that came across to me after reading it later as a confession of love more akin to a younger sister talking to an older sister or parent and I think I've figured out why that is. I was an only child growing up so I never had a sibling to look up to and admire and think the world of, to love. When you talk to me I feel very little, but not in a bad way, not even a little bit. I never feel like you're talking down to me, more that you're meeting me at my level to talk to me, that you're tailoring your message to fit me and my level of emotional development, which is obviously quite stunted. I've never had anyone care enough about me that they crafted their statements just for me. I've never really had anyone talk to me rather than at me and you doing it resonates so strongly with me on a subconscious level that I instantly and completely loved you. You're so smart and compassionate and you take time to listen to me and to fold my feelings into your responses because you want me to be okay and to be happy. I come to you a blubbering mess and you don't get annoyed with me, you don't get frustrated with my myriad of mental and emotional issues, you embrace them as a part of who I am and assure me that I'm valid and my feelings are valid and that I'm lovely and deserve to be loved and that's not something anyone has ever told me before. I was trying to come up with a profound analogy for your words, something that would do them justice but that would also crystallize my feelings so perfectly that you would instantly know exactly how you make me feel and what you mean to me, and all I could think was that your words are like a lullaby. When I read your messages the world falls away and I'm at peace, no matter how sad I am or how anxious, the moment I start reading what you wrote I'm calmer and the more I read the calmer I get and by the time I'm done reading I'm content and feeling warm and safe. To say that your words make me feel little isn't entirely accurate as it doesn't fully capture the magnitude of the effect your words have on me. When I read your words I start wetting myself, not even intentionally, it's almost Pavlovian at this point. As soon as I see that the little red number belongs to you the trickle starts and as I start to read it grows steadily until I'm finished. That calmness is profound to me, even if it's completely embarrassing. This is probably going to sound weird, but trust me, it's meant to be wholly positive, you're the human embodiment of every item that brings joy to little me. You're the pacifier that stops my fussing and helps me to calm down. You're the soft, dry diaper that wraps around me to protect me from ruining the things around me. You're the baby shampoo that smells like lavender and helps me feel at ease before bedtime. You're the bottle of warm milk that warms my tummy on cold nights and puts me to sleep with a satisfied smile on my face. You're the soft melody being hummed to me as I'm rocked to sleep. I think all of this means that you're the perfect Mommy type person, but I'm not an expert or anything, I mostly just make awkward jokes when I'm nervous, so you might just be a living nursery...and there it is. I don't expect you to respond with anything like "OMG of course I'll be your Mommy!", I know that you're little too and I don't want to make you feel like I'm trying to encroach on that in any way, I mainly just needed to tell you how you make me feel in the best way I know how, and I hope that I did a good job. You mean the absolute world to me, and I thought you should know. Love always, Baby She hit send and flopped onto her side with a contented sigh, feeling incredibly free and good about her message. She didn't know what Apex would say, but she was sure it would be positive and she was sure that even if she wasn't interested in being a Mommy, given that Apex herself identified as a little, though she seemed so much bigger in Baby's eyes than Baby seemed to herself, she would more than likely have a lifelong big sister, and that was just fine with her. When the little red number popped up on the screen an hour later Baby smiled and calmly shifted herself into position to read it, no doubt or worry in her mind, just the warm happiness that she carried with her always in her heart and mind thanks to Apex's words.

My husband Don's late wife Jean was only 52 when she started to lose bladder control in 1986. At that time their older children were 24 and 22. Their younger son was 9 and of course living at home. After a few months of urinary incontinence Jean informed all of them that about her condition. She never told any of them that she was using AB as a coping strategy. Then Jean was killed by a drunk driver in March 1988. I met Don in May 1991. He admitted that his daughter is 4 months older than me. All of my step-kids know I have no bladder control.

I have 3 adult children. My eldest daughter knows I wear and knows I’m ABDL. She also knows I have a fetlife account because she’s the one that told me about fet and got me to join. Her younger sister is a nurse in a Urology office in a major regional hospital. She also knows I have control issues first hand as I was only 2 traffic lights from home and knew I wasn’t going to make it and asked her to fish a large empty to go cup from the back floor of the car and I used that at a light. I saw it as the lesser of two evils. My son I’m sure was told by his mother about my fetish but has probably forgotten about it over the years. Either way all three of my children love me so it doesn’t matter. Hugs, Freta

I wear "almost" 24/7, but don't wet 24/7. AKA convenience diapers. Maybe a few want to actually be diaper dependent, but I think most only have the fantasy as they would hope to get acceptance from others as they don't have a choice. As for me no I don't want to physically need them, it would then necessitate at least some people knowing as I would have to change when out and about and carry changes and such. As it is now, I can just wear one to work (hide it using black onesies) and not have to change until I get home as I still use the bathroom. Sometimes I do wet close to the end of the day, so its a short enough time that I won't smell in the office or at a clients. I generally don't wear to the doctors (have when I just need to get pill refills as I won't be taking off any clothes just to get script). Also vacations with other people as there wouldn't be a way to hide carrying a bag of diapers and changing and such and would be extra hard to dispose of them without anyone knowing. And these kind of things are probably what keeps most from going 24/7 without actually having something physical wrong that causes them to need them 24/7. My fantasy would not be having to physically need them 24/7, but be 24/7 as convenience diapers (using them when convenient, but using the bathroom when convenient). That would mean that some people would know though as doctors would certainly find out at some point. Trips that are more then a day would require bringing extra diapers and if traveling with others is almost impossible to hide (most are family type trips, where I'm not staying in a hotel, but with family/friends). Unless I become a baller and can afford to stay in my own hotel room on every trip, I don't really see wearing on these trips as an option without someone knowing about my diaper wearing. Sure there might be some people where their situation could hide 24/7 convenience diapers, but for most people at some point truly going 24/7 would necessitate someone else knowing about your wearing, but of course how you deal with the "why" factor when they do find out, is up to you. And certainly not a subject I'm brave enough to broach with someone when I don't need to physically wear them. Is there anyone here who wear truly 24/7 and doesn't physically need them? If so, you're my hero as that's the dream for me, not being diaper dependent, but still wearing 24/7 with a few who know on a need to know basis.

I suggest such a scenario of the game ... I'm a lonely mother, you're a schoolboy of 16 years old. You're a bully in school from whom all are tired and teachers and classmates. Assessments are poor. In the end, it bothers me and I decide to make you an infant again. How do you like the script. In the game there are: humiliation, swaddling, bathing, feeding and various types of punishment. If the game is interested. then we can play.

Most rashes should go away in 3-4 days keeping the area clean and dry as much as possible as well as using Zinc Oxide cream. Usually the very painful rashes turn out to be yeast infections, if a rash does not go away after 3-4 days with zinc oxide than its a large chance it is a yeast infection. Many yeast infections can be treated by using antifungal cremes found in supermarkets and drug stores, you can find them usually in the foot or feminine section. if the rash does don't clear up in 7 days with an antifungal creme or if you start feeling ill go see a doctor as Yeast infections can get bad.

The rest of breakfast is chaos manifest, all three teenagers leave still stuffing food in their mouths. Liam and Bri looking especially comical with donuts hanging out as they struggle to get their shoes on from their it’s a mad scramble to get into the Subaru that is the second family car. All three youths squeezed into the back with Renny riding shotgun. It takes them about 30 min to get into town, Brindmagarten is surrounded by twelve outlying villages like a clockface, a traditional Gnomish design. Cardend being the closest at 7’oclock. Gwen pointing out the local grocery cooperative and Callie the semi-enclosed row of shops with the arcade at the end. Brindmagarten itself is gorges. Leafy treelined streets with buildings done in the traditional gnomish style featuring soring peaks and gables with connecting bridges. Although there are quite a few modern glass office buildings. Tramlines split the roads in half. They pull into a gated lot in front of a large imposing limestone building. “Here we are the 22nd Territorial Civil Offices and Court House.” Gwen and Renny take Bri’s hands and lead her up the steps waiting for them are an elderly Gnomish couple. “Mom! Dad! So good to see you!!” Renny pulls the two into a hug. Bri can see the resemblance in the faces. The man goes up to Bri and pulls her into a hug despite the height difference. “Tagark Finnthighearn and you must be Bri! We heard so much about, you all good of course” He laughs a surprisingly deep tenor. “Hells, I haven’t heard them this excited since Liam was born.” “Thank you Sir.” “Please call me gramps or papa Fin. Tagark if it’s too early for that.” “My God this guy fits grandpa to a T even if I weren’t joining the family I’d probably think of him that way. Sounds good papa Fin.” He smiles back at Bri “Halvi, dear or….” “Mama Fin?” “Well isn’t she a sharp one.” Zeramar’s bureaucracy is relatively efficient by the standards of such things but it’s still several hours as they wait to meet with their case worker. During this time Bri’s grandparents give her the basics on clan Finnthighearn. Numbering close to five hundred total people, like most Gnomish clans it’s a quasigovernmental organization that defies conventional classification. It controls among other things a midsized pharmacy chain, a boutique accounting firm and several artificing and enchanting shops. Aside from the pharmacy franchise everyone working for Finnthighearn is in the clan, with the pharmacy franchises being largely independent cooperatives. Eventually their number is called, and they are ushered into a small office. Bri finds herself in the embarrassing position of sitting on Gwen’s lap. “So Brianna or Bri for short correct?” Bri nods at the large orcish man “I’m Mr. Maruk and I’ll be your case worker today.” His accent sounds vaguely British. Now let’s see you came through a natural portal and as a licensed ascensor I can see the trace energy and verify that no further questions are needed on that. And you Mrs. and Mrs. Daniels- Finnthighearn?” He looks at Gwen and Renny. “You wish to adopt Bri as your daughter?” “We do” The two answer in almost perfect unison as they squeeze each other’s hands. “Normally for someone your age Bri we’d be hesitant to allow an adoption so soon after entering Zerramar because it allows you to jump straight to citizen status.” Bri looks noticeably worried. “However….” He smiles. “The Multiversally Displaced Persons Act of 7557 provides for the quick resettlement and integration of persons involuntarily displaced by acts of others or the Supreme Mover against their own will and volition. You being scooped up by a Gnomish clan actually saves the government a lot of money, both of us paperwork, and you a huge amount of stress. You’re incredibly lucky. “Then there is the fact that in matters of family law we tend to strongly way each species culture in the decision.” Renny chimes in. “In Gnomish culture while you are technically an adult at around 18-20 your still considered a ward of your family until about 36-40.” “Ah so that makes it easier?” “Correct you would be our ‘Demkenara’, it’s a term for someone who has lost their family through some disaster and is taken in by a new clan. It’s been recognized by the courts for thousands of years. We tend to find the lost and fold them into our family’s. Something in our bones just won’t let us leave someone abandoned.” She smiles “Which means I am more than happy to approve the adoption.” Maruk is smiling as all seven people erupt into yelling and hugging. “Now just one final bit of business.” He activates some kind of arcane device and Bri feels a surge of energy. “Let it be known that all statements are now on the record and under binding oath, please raise your right hands or equivalent appendage.” He pauses “Gwen and Renny Daniels- Finnthighearn, do you take Brianna into your household as culturally customary making her your ‘Demkenara’?” “We do” In unison hands clenched “And Brianna do you accept this invitation of your own free will and volition, with all rights and responsibilities inherent?” “I do.” “Then by the power invested in me as clerk of his majesties court I do witness and make binding this adoption. Done and ordered in the in the name of the free people of Zerramar and their chosen sovereign Ullrich II, in this the year 7619.” The ‘kachunk’ of a stamp hitting paper punctuates his statement. “Conragtulations to you all and may I be the first to welcome Zerramar’s newest citizen Brianna Daniels- Finnthighearn!”

MarkSmith that's a great way, but how do you explain your pink diapers and sissy outfits. No matter how careful one thinks they are kids snoop and sooner or later we all drop our guards. Being discovered wearing a diaper by your kids or your kids discovering your diapers is one thing and easy to explain away as having a medical need for them......but pink sissy looking diapers? Well thats a conversation I like to be a fly on the wall for. My kid might know but I've never told. My kid was raised to respect ones personal space and has always done that. My kid is now 23 and still lives at home but if the topic ever came up (which I seriously doubt it ever would) I would kindly ask to drop the subject and knowing the respectful child I my wife and I raised the subject would be dropped. End of discussion. My kid can draw their on conclusions.

Part 42"Kimmy!" I woke up to Melanie shaking the bars of my crib. "Wake up, sleepy head!""Wha?" I sat up groggily, looking down at Mellie. I couldn't help but laugh, this angle was funny. "Mellie, you're so small!" I reached through the bars of the crib and patted her on the head. She was in pigtails again, this girl just loved pigtails."You're small too, goofus!" she giggled, "You're in a crib!"I used the bars of the crib to pull myself up and I glowered down at her in mock outrage."How dare you! I wet my diaper in your general direction!" And I did, the diaper was wet already as I had been wetting at night for a while but I generally still needed to go when I first woke up. There really wasn't much holding it any more, her timing was just perfect. Melanie collapsed on the floor in a fit of laughter. She really was my bestie and it was good to see her again. "I missed you, Melanie.""I missed you too, Kimmy.""She's awoken the beast!" April announced dramatically, striding into the room. She leaned down and squeezed the front of Melanie's diaper, the hem of her too-short lilac dress was flipped up from her rolling around on the floor, which caused Melanie to blush."Mommy! You should ask!" I protested on Melanie's behalf, April usually asked instead of doing a squeeze check, those were so humiliating."Aunt Lisa said Little Melanie likes to lie about whether she's wet, something about liking the feeling of a swollen diaper. So you have to squeeze to be sure." Melanie was blushing fiercely as April laid her down on the changing table. I couldn't help but peek, it would avoid having to ask myself... and I discovered that Melanie still had her boy parts! I looked away as soon as I knew, and sat down, waiting for my turn."Oh Kimmy," Melanie said softly, "Your new diapers are the best! They're so thick.""Yeah," I agreed grumpily, poking my own sodden padding. I loved Melanie, but she was weird sometimes. "You can have them, I like the thinner ones.""We'll get you back in those I'm sure, sweetheart. We just have to get all of that awful Catalon drug out of you. How are you feeling this morning?""I need some of the milk," I frowned. I didn't like needing it. "But I don't want it.""Let's have just a bit," she suggested, "and top you off with my milk, how's that sound?""Wonderful," I admitted."Mellie, your mommy brought some cuffs she said I can put you in if you're super good, would you like that?" April asked as she deposited Melanie in my crib. Mellie turned seven shades of red as I looked at her."No," she said, looking away from everyone, looking to a corner of the room instead."I think you should cuff Mellie to... the playpen while I eat. And put on some music!" I laughed. Mellie still couldn't admit what she wanted."No!" Mellie squirmed, but couldn't hide her grin."Mellie, you're so silly," I said as April lifted me and carried me to the changing table, "It's okay to like what you like. You're my friend!"It felt a little strange to carry on a conversation with Melanie while April changed me. I got one of my normal nighttime diapers instead of the extra thick ones.. the daytime ones were still denied to me. I was dressed in just a onesie with pink and purple hearts all over it. I got a short pink skirt as well after a little begging. It was really nice to have clothes, and it was really, really nice to have some say.--After the morning milk and feed, I was placed in the playpen with Mellie.. who had her hands cuffed behind her back. I pounced and started tickling her before April could remove the cuffs, laughing evilly as Melanie squirmed around."Kimmy, that's enough, let me uncuff her," April chided. I obeyed and sat back, but I refused to wipe the grin from my face. April removed Melanie's purple leather cuffs and put them on the end table near the couch. "You're so rotten," she teased me. She grabbed me by the wrists and held my arms up. "Okay Melanie, get her back.""No!" I squealed and squirmed, but I couldn't escape April's grasp. Melanie tickled me mercilessly until I was in tears, with a wet diaper. "I give, I give! I'm sorry!"April's phone rang."Girls, I have to take this, be good an play here in the playpen, okay?""Yes mommy.""Yes, Aunt April," Melanie said, she sounded like such a goody-goody with her new voice when she responded that way. April headed to the kitchen and answered her phone call. "Kimmy, may I touch your kitty ears?""Of course!" I smiled and crawled closer to her, wiggling my ears. "They're super soft.""They really are soft. Can you feel them?" she stroked the soft hairs on my ears gently."Yeah, it's part of the collar. Sunshine actually had a tail, too. She could move it and feel it and everything.""Sunshine?""Yeah.. " I rolled on to my back, laying next to Melanie, "She was so pretty, Mellie. She had this gorgeous red hair, her ears and tail were the same red. The color of the flame in a fireplace on a cold winter night, red and orange and gold... and her eyes were hazel, they changed colors during the day depending on how she felt. She was my friend... we were together every moment of every day for weeks. I... I think I love her.""She was a kitty with you? Did you get to talk to her?""No, we never spoke.. but she had this trill, I couldn't make a sound like it.. she made it when she wanted me to come closer," I blushed, "Her skin was so soft... she smelled so nice.. We would spend the nights together staring up at the stars and just purring." I felt Melanie reach down and wipe a tear from my face. "What if Opal hurts her? Will she be a kitty forever?" Melanie just stroked my hair softly, sitting next to me quietly as I fought the tears."I missed you, Kimmy. I'm glad you're okay. It wasn't the same without you around. You're my best friend.""Mellie.. why did you keep your boy parts?" I felt terrible for asking as soon as the question left my lips. Melanie's face scrunched up and she turned a dark red."I was scared," she answered, her voice wavering, "I don't know what.. girl parts feel like, I was afraid to get rid of my parts. I thought the nose and the voice and the chin would be enough, mommy said I didn't have to change anything I didn't want to... Am I not a real girl?" As the question came forth, the dam broke and Melanie started sobbing softly."Melanie Stephenson," I said gently, sitting up and taking her in my arms, "You were a real girl before you changed any of those things. You didn't need to change anything at all to be a real girl, you always were. You're the sweetest, most devoted person I've ever known, I'm so sorry you hurt over this.""I'm sorry you miss Sunshine," Melanie sobbed. We held each other and cried."Girls!" April sounded panicked as she came back in, "What's wrong? What happened? You two can't be left alone for a minute without you both ending up sobbing your hearts out!""We're sorry!" We cried in unison, which broke through the sadness. We melted into a strange mix of sobs and giggles until it passed."I have exciting news I'd like to share, if you two are okay... I honestly can't tell," April's expression was a mixture of confusion, amusement, and worry. We calmed down and faced her, staring up at her beautiful, giant visage looking down on us inside the playpen. Her expression softened. Melanie and I just held hands, waiting. "While you were missing," she choked a little on the word, "I composed a few songs. Well, nine songs. I called the collection 'Lost on Catalon' and I sent it to Billy from the Smash... and he liked it. He wants to produce it. I'm going to be an artist as well as a musician!"We clapped and cheered for her, it was amazing news. She played a few of the songs for us.. they were powerful. One was heartwrenchingly sad, we ended up crying again - pain and fear in the lyrics and the music, heartbreak and loss. One was pure anger thrown through the air by the acoustic guitar, sharp, staccato.. it was intimidating, I had never really heard anger from April.. not really. The third was bewildering, lost and meandering, the melody was haunting and the chord progression was nonstandard.. it was beautiful and mysterious, like being lost deep in the thickest fog on a sunny day. When she was done, we sat stunned. April was better than I had ever known. She took all her pain and sorrow, her anger and helplessness, her fear, her loss, and her love and poured it all into her guitar. The result was breathtaking."Mommy," I said with tears in my eyes, "I love you too."--And that was the start of our new life together. She had saved my life and then we had nearly lost each other, I was saved again, and in the ordeal April had found a deeper layer to her art than she had ever known. The world responded in kind. April Morris became a name on the lips of those who wanted to drink those feelings. April and Gwen recorded the album together with some of Gwen's friends, and I got to be in the studio to watch. There was even a tour, Lisa and Melanie went along... but that's a story for another time.THE END.

I'm in el paso

I'm in Alamogordo

I AM GROOT!