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CRY BABY I sat in my room pondering the mess into which my life had evolved. I tried to figure out just where it went awry. It was a long time ago I was sure. I tried to think back to when things seemed normal. I tried to recall the first indication that things had gone sour. “If you don’t stop crying, I’ll give you something to cry about.” That was it. I remember that threat as a small child. At first, it was just a threat. And it didn’t do much good to stop my crying. I have to admit; I cried a lot. I don’t know the reasons why. However, any injury or injustice started a feeling welling inside me I couldn’t usually suppress, and then I’d start bawling. My father would make that threat most. But my mother did as well. Finally in exasperation one day she yanked down my pants and did spank me. It didn’t help. It just made me cry harder. From that day further they were quicker on the draw when I started crying. I tried to hide it from them, but then I’d switch from whatever had started that crying spell to the upcoming spanking and that would make me cry as well. I thought I was making progress, but I did cry enough at school to be teased as “Cry Baby Randy.” I still cringe when I think of those taunts as well. They hurt nearly as much as the spankings. Things were in sort of a status quo for years. I’d cry from time to time and more often than not get spanked. Finally, in fourth grade, I remember my teacher, Mrs. Jones, sending home a letter to my parents expressing her concerns. “You’re crying too much at school,” my father told me. “How often do you think you do that?” I bluffed. “May every other week?” “Your teacher tells us it is several times a week. What are we going to do about that?” I had no answer, and I suspected the question was rhetorical, anyway. I found out a few days later. It was dismissal time, and I had cried earlier in the day. The teacher came to me with a small envelope and pinned it to my shirt. It was like I was a preschooler. When I got home, my mother saw the note and read it. She immediately stepped forward and yanked down my pants. I was crying before I was even fully across her knee for the spanking. That evening I heard my parents talking between themselves. “Spanking him doesn’t seem to be the answer,” was one snipped I heard. I was hoping they’d abandon the spankings. I didn’t see the point. A few days later I found out the new “answer.” I don’t recall what led up to the incident, but I remember starting to cry and my father snatching me up. “I’ll get his clothes off. You get the stuff,” he said. At first, I thought I was getting a spanking, but my father fully removed my pants and then pulled off my shirt and then just waited. Then my mom came in. I was pushed over onto my bed, and mom slid something under me. It only took seconds. When she stood back, I realized I was wearing a diaper. I started crying anew. “If you’re going to cry like a baby, we’re going to treat you like a baby,” I heard my father say. They left the room, and I just sat there and wept. Later I heard her call that dinner was ready. I tried to compose myself before I went down. I got to the kitchen, and my sister sat there smirking at me. She’d have loved to tease me, but she knew that if she got caught, she’d get consequences. My mom set plates in front of my father and my sister. She then came and wrapped a bib around me. While the plates in front of the others had hamburgers and fries on them, mine had some sort of mush. My mom took a spoon and scooped some up and pushed it towards my mouth. “Open wide,” mom said. I kept my mouth closed at first, and mom pushed the spoon at my lips. I got some of the mush on my face. Finally, I opened up and allowed the stuff in. Yech. Spoon after spoon was fed to me. I heard giggling from my sister. After dinner, we moved into the living room and started watching TV. When the commercial came, I stood up and started to leave the room. “Where do you think you’re going?” I heard my father ask. “To the bathroom,” I replied. “No, you’re not.” “I have to go.” He just pointed at me. Then I realized he was pointing at the diaper. I was expected to use the diaper. I started to cry, and after a few seconds, I started to pee. Great, I was a baby. Here I was crying and wetting a diaper. After the show was over my mom took me back to my room and changed the diaper. “You see how silly you are behaving. Do you want to spend your life as a baby?” Again, I suspected this was rhetorical and just stayed quiet. I slept that night in the diaper. I woke up and had to pee, so I wet again and cried myself back to sleep. In the morning, mom came in and asked if I was ready to be a big boy today. I told her I was and she took the diaper off and told me to get showered and dressed. And so, this new routine started. If I cried at home, I was taken to be diapered and would spend a day or more as a baby. If I cried at school, I’d get one of those dreaded notes pinned to me at the end of the day, and I’d be diapered when I got home. Mom added more things to the mix. Almost immediately, a pacifier would be shoved in my mouth if I started to cry. Mom also made me some babyish clothes to wear over the diaper if I had to leave the house. When I was in baby mode, mom would even carry a diaper bag, or have me carry it. She’d change me if I needed it. I would protest the injustice of it all but the sad truth was, it seemed to be working. I was able to fight back the urge to break into tears when I realized what it would get me. I have no idea why the humiliation worked better than the physical pain. Still, from time to time, it did happen. I remember one time we were out shopping and I couldn’t stop the tears in time and saw mom reach into her purse and pull out a pacifier and pop it in my mouth. It was a reminder that I’d be a baby again when we got home. The pacifier also replaced the pinned notes at school. I started to cry, and the teacher opened her desk and extracted the pacifier and walked over and pushed it into my mouth much to the giggles and guffaws of the rest of the class. I’d walk home with it in place, and mom would greet me with diapers when I arrived. At this point, I was rarely crying at home, but I was still coming home from time to time with a paci in my mouth. Then my life hit a major turning point. I remember being teased by some of the other boys in the class one day and it started the crying cycle in me. The teacher came in and stuffed the pacifier in my mouth and then said “Principal’s Office.” Tears streaming down my face, I left the room. When the secretary saw me coming with the plug in my mouth, she just directed me into the office. Mrs. McMahon, the school principal, was always a kind lady. I didn’t know what she was going to do. She just shook her head. “I’m sorry it has come to this,” she said. “Please take your clothes off.” I didn’t comprehend what was happening until I saw her go to the cabinet behind her desk and withdraw a bag. A diaper bag the same style as the one my mom used when we were out. She placed it on her desk and unzipped it and removed a diaper. I started to cry anew while I undressed. The principal laid me on the sofa in her office and placed the diaper on me. She picked up my clothes and neatly folded them. “I’ll hold on to these. You can pick them up from the secretary on your way home.” It took a second for this to sink in “I can’t go to class like this,” I said waving my hands over me standing in just a diaper. “Of course not,” she said. She reached into the bag and pulled something out. She threaded it over my head and then pulled it down and snapped it between my legs. It was a onesie like a baby would wear. She reached into the bag again. I was hoping for pants or shorts or something but what she took out was a pair of slippers. Baby booties. She pushed me down on the sofa and put them on my feet. “Your mother wanted you to wear just the diaper, but we settled on this as being the most appropriate.” I then realized I was going back to class as a baby. I started crying again. Mrs. McMahon retrieved the pacifier from the edge of her desk and put it back into my mouth and then marched me back to class. There were more laughs when I entered the classroom. I shrunk back into my seat and tried to become small for the rest of the day. When the final bell rang, I stood and headed for the door. I had to get out of this place. “Oh… my… gosh…” I heard some girl say slowly. “He’s wearing a diaper, too.” There was laughter. I heard the “Cry Baby Randy” taunts. I pushed my way home and ran up to my room. Oddly, when I got to my room, I didn’t cry. I got mad. After a while, I calmed down, but I thought about it. I went to the mirror and looked at myself. I started getting that feeling inside me but rather than cry I diverted it into anger. Maybe this was working, rather than feeling hurt myself, I was angry at everybody else, my parents, the teacher, the principal. This perhaps wasn’t healthy either, but I could keep it inside. That pretty much was the end of my crying. By the time the next school year came around, I’d not been in diapers for some time. I was cured. My parents probably were pretty smug about their “answer” to my problems. And that was the way it was. I got angry and even when I couldn’t suppress my rage, yelling at the person causing my issue was somehow more socially acceptable than breaking down in tears. My life became somewhat normal. Normal, that was until my Junior year in high school. I had been out sick for several days with a stomach bug. Nasty thing, puking, and diarrhea. Wasn’t able to hold much down for days but I was feeling better and went back to school. I had a science report that had been due while I was out and I turned it in at the beginning of class the first day back. That Friday morning in homeroom the teacher started passing out envelopes to some of the students. She dropped one on my desk. I opened it up. “Interim Progress Report,” it said. We students had called them “Failure Notices.” It was an indication that you were going to fail a class. I was a good student and had never received one. I’d hardly gotten a C in a class, let alone fail. It had to be a mistake. The class in question was Science, one of my best subjects. This had to be a mistake. I got to class early and asked Mr. Walter about it. “This was a mistake, right?” “No mistake. You hadn’t turned in the research paper, and that’s half of this quarter’s grade.” “I did turn it in.” “You hadn’t at the time I had to submit the progress reports.” “I was out puking my guts out.” I could feel the rage building inside of me. “It’s just a warning. It doesn’t mean anything since you did submit the paper.” The rage was still building. I understood what he was saying, but I still took the failure notice as an insult. I was one of his best students, and he couldn’t trust that I had written the paper. We argued. He told me to stop shouting, or he’d send me to the principal. That broke the dam. I started to cry. He leaned over and quietly suggested I go see my guidance counselor. I decided to take that advice. I made my way to the guidance office and asked the secretary if I could see Mrs. Thompson. Mrs. Thompson was always friendly to me. We’d talked about where I’d be going to college a number of times. I was sent in to see her immediately. Initially, she smiled, happy to see me. Then she saw my face and got concerned. “We’ll talk about this. But, let’s get you changed first.” Changed? I thought. I had no idea what she was talking about until she reached into the bottom drawer of the file cabinet and retrieved the diaper bag. I was shocked. I’d not seen that thing in six years or more. It was coming back to haunt me now. I started to tear up again. Mrs. Thompson reached into the bag and pulled out the pacifier and handed it to me. “Put this in for now while you get undressed.” I undressed in silence as she pulled the diaper out of the bag. It was suitably large so that it would fit me now. An adult size I guessed. Had my mom been restocking this bag as I grew over the years? I shivered standing there naked in front of the guidance counselor. She came forward and fitted the diaper on me. “My mother is seventy-five years old,” she said. “She wears these, too.” I don’t know if that was supposed to make me feel better or just explain how she was so adept at putting them on. She went back to the bag and returned with something else. It was a scaled up onesie that she held up so I could put my head and arms through the holes. She snapped it under my crotch. I was pretty sure that her mother didn’t wear one of these. She returned to the bag one last time and passed me the booties. I slid them on, and she directed me to the office chair. “So what happened?” she said. I spat out the pacifier and recounted the story. We talked about my history of crying. I explained the various “answers” my parents had provided and how I had turned my urge to cry into anger. I looked at the clock. This was spinning out nicely through the final period. If I played my cards right, I could spend the rest of the day here and not have to return to class dressed up as a sixteen-year-old toddler. Finally, Mrs. Thompson said she would have to talk to my mother. She said that if I wanted I could wait as long as I wanted in the conference room adjacent to her office. I thanked her and moved to the next room. I watched the clock and right before dismissal Mrs. Thompson returned to the room and handed me the diaper bag. “Your clothes are inside. Your mother wants you not to change before you go home, but you can wait here until you are ready.” I thanked her again. I knew my mother would want me to be humiliated by walking home like this. I was thankful Mrs. Thompson would let me wait. I’d wait until the school emptied before leaving. About twenty minutes after dismissal I figured I’d be safe. I made my way out of the conference room. The outer office was empty. I opened the door and looked out in the hall. Nobody was in the immediate vicinity. I made my way down to the main lobby and just before I got to the doors I came across two girls. One of them saw me and her eyes grew large, but she didn’t say anything. Her friend noticed the reaction and turned to look at me and burst into hysterical laughter and started moving away quickly. I turned red and started to make my way past the remaining girl. “Why?” I heard her say. I didn’t want to discuss this. I started to push past her. I just wanted to make the door. “Wait,” I heard her call. I paused, and she ran in front of me and looked into my eyes. I was crying again. I didn’t know what she wanted. Was she going to tease or laugh at me? We stared at each other. Me as the big baby and her, well, she was cute. Frankly, if I wanted to ask her out, I’d have figured she was out of my league. She was very pretty. Straight blond hair and those giant blue eyes staring at me. She was neatly dressed, not just the t-shirt and jeans many girls wore to this school. What happened next I would have never expected. She stepped forward and threw her arms around me and pulled me into a tight hug. She patted me on the back and said: “There, there.” We stood that way a second and she moved her hand down to my rear and felt the diaper. I pulled back a bit, and she just stared at me with the confused eyes. I tried to pull away, but she just pulled me back into the hug. There was a bench behind me, and she pushed me gently back on to it. After I was seated, she kneeled straddling me and pulled my to her, so my head rested on her breasts. I’d never been that intimate with a girl. They were firmer than I had imagined. He patted my back and said, “Tell me about it.” I spat out the pacifier, still in my mouth and drew a breath through my mouth and explained. All through this, she held me close, stroking my hair or rubbing my back. It felt good. Once I’d given her the full story, she stood up and said, “Let me help you get home.” She took my hand, and we walked home holding hands, very close. It was almost like having her next to me made my predicament invisible. I felt safe. We didn’t talk over the few blocks to my house. We stood at the sidewalk. “This is it,” I said. “I don’t even know your name.” “Crystal,” she said. It was a fitting name for a gem of a girl like that. I smiled. “Randy,” I said. She then leaned forward me and hugged me again. “You’ll get through this. Just think of me,” she said. She pulled back a bit and smiled at me. She leaned in again and kissed me. Kissed me on the lips. It was like being struck by lightning. “See ya,” she said and headed down the sidewalk. I smiled and then went inside. Mom was waiting with that judgmental look. “Well, you just couldn’t stay mature,” she said. “Well, you couldn’t have enough faith in me not to keep the school stocked with diapers.” I was back to being angry. “Watch your tone with me, boy,” she countered. “We’ll see how a weekend in diapers works for you.” I just stomped off to my room. The whole weekend shot. Ugh. I thought about Crystal. I remember her eyes in those seconds right before she kissed me. I smiled. I could get through this. I wet the diaper. I knew the bathroom wasn’t an option. The full-scale treatment returned. Baby food for dinner and the bottle. I downed the bottle dreaming of Crystal all the time. The next morning I knew I had to poop. In the old days, I could usually hold it until mom declared that I was going to be a “big boy” for the day. I knew I couldn’t make it through the weekend like this. I gave a push and felt the old sensation. Relief at first and then the mess of the mass mushrooming on my gut. My mom called up that breakfast was ready. I went down and asked for a diaper change. She said she’d do it after I ate. Great. I sat down and felt the mass of excrement gush around my rear. I waited as my mother shoveled some gruel into me. She took off the bib and wiped my face with it and handed me the bottle and told me to go drink it while she cleaned up the breakfast dishes. Great, more time in the poopy diaper. I went and sat on the sofa and started to suck. The doorbell rang. I wasn’t inclined to answer it dressed only in a diaper. My mom went and got it. I couldn’t see who it was, but then Crystal walked into the room. “You have a visitor,” mom announced. Crystal was wearing a very smart dress, silver, and flowers. Crystal looked at me with the big eyes again. I guess she didn’t expect to see me in just a diaper. Mom went back to the kitchen. “I just wanted to see how you were doing,” she said. Taking a seat next to me on the sofa. “I’m managing. Barely,” I said. She looked at the bottle in my hand. I held it up. “The rest of my breakfast.” “Let me help you,” she said. She guided me down do my head was on her lap. She took the bottle from my hands and held it to my lips. I started to suck on the nipple, all while looking up at her. With her free hand, she started stroking my hair. This was very peaceful. I was unhappy when I sucked the last of the milk from the bottle. My mom re-entered the room and saw this. “Isn’t this a cute scene,” she said. I think she meant it as an insult, but Crystal refused to view it that way. She just smiled. “His diaper needs changing,” she said. “Do you want to do it?” my mother asked. “Yes.” I led her back to my room and pulled out the changing supplies. She pushed me gently on the bed and made sure the changing pad was centered beneath me. She carefully untaped the diaper and used part of it to remove most of the mess. She carefully rolled it up and set it aside. She took the wipes and started cleaning up my rear. She started to hum a song. She took her time and did a good job. She then took another wipe and started to clean my penis. It nearly instantly became erect, and she smiled. She gave it a little twang and giggled. She then took the clean diaper and carefully and snugly did it up. She held up the used diaper. “There’s a diaper genie in the closet.” I winced. The thing had been lurking in the back of the closet for years. But mom had dug it out yesterday when she changed me. It was front and center. Crystal disposed of the dirty stuff. “I’m going to wash my hands.” She headed to the bathroom and returned a short time later. “Is that all you’re wearing today?” I pointed out a set of clothes that my mother laid out on the bed. A t-shirt with a bear on it and a pair of short overalls. Crystal helped me into it and then smiled at the result. “There, you’re all ready for the day.” She leaned forward and kissed me. She tugged at my hand and as I stood she patted my bottom. “All nice and clean.”

I'm kind of an old guy (young at heart) and have been wearing diapers for decades. For the most part I've only wet my diapers and could count on one hand how many times I've soiled a diaper as an adult. Lately though i've been soiling my diaper on a much more regular basis. Can't figure out why all of a sudden i'm into soiling. Anyway, no big revelations here just sharing.

Hi just out of curiosity I was wondering how many other lesbian/bi girls there are into AB DL stuff? I sometimes feel like I am one of few though there does seem to be a growing amount of bisexual women into this. I feel like being a woman, ok maybe a little girl rather than a women, who love dominate women and diapers is a kinda rare.

David is going around a factory with his college class. He is less than interested in whatever educational value the trip was supposed to have and is easily distracted. When he gets separated from his group he accepts the help of an employee to direct him. Surely the employee wouldn't lead him in the wrong direction... --- If you enjoy my stories please consider subscribing to my Patreon page where I post a 2000+ word update every four days or so. For $5 a month you can read all of my updates a week before everyone else and for $10 you get early access plus exclusive stories only available to my patrons. There are more tiers and rewards available on the page. https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 Thank you to everyone who is already a patron of mine: DannyDazzler, Joe, Jerry J, Jack C, Fernando L, Conta, Mike S, Carter B, Dr J, Paul F, Trish C, John D, Archibald B, Bojack D, John, Georgia C, Blipp, Duncan G, Jake W, Daniel, Jeffrey G, P, Joe, Tabbi, Anon, Kent J, Nick C, Brandon G, P74_1986, Pat M, LuvsSissy, DreaR, Alex B, Malcolm E, Pete W, Tim, Cless, Frank S, Scott S, John D, Pierre-David G, M, Joshua M, NunyoBC, Txdiapered, Kim, Chris, Dorian G, Ceneroz, S Miller, Britnee L, Tim F, Chris B, WillNotWill, Orion F, Tom H, Sterling W, Ryan, Jens B, Matthew S, Pierry L, Paul C, VoidofContext, ReiofLight, James K, Lin J, Plus M, Orange, Joe V, Daniel O, Anne Mette B-H, Kirk H, Mikkel L, Eric D, Bruce D, Tim, Alice W, Sophie S, SB1275, John Z, BuffaloBill, Findlay, Rob, Bob S, Nathan, Timothy A W, Erik P, Ben R, Ben F, Steven H Prisoner of the Machines By Elfy “David, are you paying attention?” Mr. Healy asked with exasperation. “Yeah, of course…” David replied as he tried to pretend he hadn’t been bored out of his mind during the tour he and his college classmates were on. In all honesty the eighteen-year-old David couldn’t be less interested on this tour of a manufacturing plant. When he signed up to the Business Management course at his local college he had done so just as an excuse to put work off for longer. He had very little actual interest in his course and even less interest in walking around a factory making all sorts of boring things. David was slouching along at the back of the group and paying more attention to his phone than anything going on around him. In the absence of paying attention he was planning his evening, he wanted to go to his friend’s house for some video games before they went out later in the evening. It would be pretty much the same evening he always did. “You can learn some really interesting things about managing a company here.” Mr. Healy said loudly as the disinterested students milled around. David rolled his eyes as the tour continued. The group started walking away and David was going to follow until something else grabbed his attention. “Boring tour, eh?” A man in his forties was looking up from some kind of large cutting machine and wiping his hands on the messy shirt in front of him. “Yeah.” David nodded his head and smiled, “Like, Mr. Healy is just the most boring person in the world.” “I can see that.” The man said as he nodded his head. He smirked and walked over to where David was standing, “My name’s Steve.” The man wiped his hand on his pants and held it out. David hesitated before grabbing the hand and shaking it. It seemed like he had found a kindred spirit and David looked at the thing the man was cutting. He seemed really friendly and disarming, even though David was usually quite shy he had no problem talking to this man. “What do you do here?” David asked as he let go of the man’s hand. His fingers hurt a little from Steve’s strong grip. “I cut shit.” Steve let out a loud bark of a laugh, “Metal, mostly aluminium. Cut it into the exact shapes and sizes so the guys down the line can put it all together.” “Sounds interesting.” David was lying but he didn’t know what else to say. “You’re not a good liar.” Steve smirked, “But that’s alright. I enjoy my work and it pays well. Your group are business students, right? Maybe you’ll be my boss.” Steve laughed and slapped David on the back roughly. David smiled uncomfortably in return, he had changed his mind. Steve wasn’t a kindred spirit after all, he was someone who gave David a really weird feeling about everything going on. David looked around and suddenly realised the group he was with had all disappeared. He had no idea where they had gone. He felt very alone. “I’d better get going.” David said as he started walking away, “I don’t want to miss anything.” “Mmhmm.” Steve nodded as he watched David moving away. David looked around to see if he could see any sign of his professor or classmates but they were nowhere in view. He looked around nervously feeling very out of place within the unknown factory. He could see some of the other workers looking his way and he felt vaguely threatened. “Lost?” Steve’s distinctive voice came from behind David. David closed his eyes and nodded his head without turning back around. There were several doors and he wasn’t sure which one his group had gone through. He cursed his lack of attention but blamed his professor for being so boring. “I think they went through that door.” Steve pointed to a door a little off to the side of the others. There was a sign on it that said “No Admittance!” “Really?” David looked doubtful. He knew how factory workers liked to play practical jokes on outsiders and he felt like he was being set up to get in trouble. The door looked different to all of the other ones around the room. It looked stronger and whereas the others were old and wooden, this one seemed very new. It even had a digital lock, it looked very out of place in an otherwise rather uninspiring factory. “Cross my heart.” Steve said. “It says “No Admittance” though.” David tried to see any hint of a smile or some sort of tell that Steve was playing with him. He knew people like this liked to prank outsiders. “That’s just for the general public.” Steve said, “Seriously, I’ve seen a bunch of these things in my time and they all go down there. It’s where we store the raw materials. I’ll even come with you if you don’t believe me, hold on a second…” David watched as Steve lowered the cutting machine and grunted with effort as he pressed it down. Bits of metal fell away to the floor around the cutter as it lifted up again. Steve quickly swept up the fallen metal and indicated for David to follow him. David hesitated but realised he had no other leads to follow in this bustling factory and he was getting in the way of all the workers trying to move around him. He was getting some evil looks from the people he was holding up. Steve walked around his machine and over to the door he had pointed at. It was behind another machine and looked fairly hidden from view, there was an overweight man operating a large drill in front of it. David moved a little closer as Steve unlocked the door and pushed it open, the corridor beyond was very dark. David walked over to stand next to Steve and looked into the darkness. It didn’t look likely that anyone had been down there in a while, David was unsure but when Steve indicated for him to step inside he decided to do so. “Just head down there.” Steve says. “Its pitch black…” David replied sceptically. “Hold on a second…” Steve fiddled with something on the wall and several small lights hanging from the ceiling flickered into life. Their light didn’t reach the floor. “Are you su-” David turned back to the doorway and was about to ask if Steve was sure this was the right way but the door was closed and Steve was gone. David hurried up to the door and tried to push it open but it was locked. Even worse than that the little window was covered by some card. David trying yelling and banging on the door but no one could hear him with all the machinery going on. David didn’t know if this was a prank or not but he turned to look at the dark corridor with worry. This didn’t seem right but he could either walk down there or stay here for who knows how long. “Great…” David’s voice echoed around the walls of the dark and bare corridor. Walking down the hallway rather gingerly David looked around for anything which might show a way out. He slowly walked through the darkness and expected Steve to suddenly yell that he had pranked him but there was nothing, the sound of the factory sounded like it was getting further away and David didn’t understand how he could’ve walked so far and still be in the building. In the almost complete silence of the hallway David felt like he heard some clanging from somewhere ahead. He could hear a low hum of electricity going through the walls. David suddenly found a staircase leading downwards. It seemed impossible that this was where his group had been taken, the guys in the factory must be playing a prank on him. Whatever they were doing David was determined to continue forwards since he was sure it was the only way he would spring their trap and get out of this strange and dark place. He walked down three flights of stairs and then continued down another hallway, he thought he was walking back towards the factory but it was easy to lose your bearings in such a dark place. --- “Hey! Tom! Get over here!” Steve called down the line of machines which were stopping for lunch making the factory an eerily silent place. “It’s lunch time.” Tom replied with his older voice. He was in his mid-fifties and his hair was greying quite dramatically. “It’s an emergency.” Steve said rather pointedly. His eyes shifted to the door he had sent David through a few minutes beforehand. Tom’s whole demeanour changed and he looked around conspiratorially as he put the sandwiches he had begun unwrapping on his work bench and started walking over to Steve. With the factory now silent the two men withdrew away from everyone else and spoke in hushed voices to each other. “I just sent a fresh one down.” Steve whispered. “Did you tell the guys upstairs?” Tom asked as he nodded towards the offices with windows overlooking the shop floor. “I was just about to do it.” Steve said as he hit the button on his machine to power it down, “I know they were looking for someone to send. I might get a nice little bonus for it.” “And I guess you want me to do the dirty work?” Tom looked mildly annoyed at his younger co-worker. “Don’t be like that, man.” Steve said as he clapped his friend on the back, “Help me out here and I’ll split the bonus with you. We need to make sure he gets into the room.” “Fine…” Tom put the tools he was carrying down on Steve’s workbench. “Good luck.” Steve said, “And don’t look so miserable. This is a nice little earner for the pair of us.” Tom nodded his head and stretched. He lifted the card that blocked the small window to make sure the person Steve had sent through had walked away from the factory. He keyed in the code and opened the door. Rather than walking down the hallway where David had gone Tom turned immediately to the right where there was a heavy slab on the floor. As the door closed behind him he pushed the slab out of the way to reveal a hatch with a ladder, he climbed down quickly until his feet hit the floor again. He quickly pushed the ladder up and it went up into a ceiling where it was hidden by a hatch. The hallway Tom was now in was illuminated by light shining through the window in another door. He made sure to give the door a wide berth as he hid behind some boxes nearby. He prepared for action because he was never sure what he would have to do. All he could do now was wait. --- David was thoroughly creeped out by the hallway he was in. At the bottom of the stairs the corridor was much different to one he had previously in. This corridor was much colder and looked like it had been abandoned for a long time, it was pitch black apart from a light at the far end of the corridor. David could see no other doors or anything else so he started walking forwards towards the light, he assumed he would walk through that door and end up in another part of the factory or something. As the door got closer David felt like something was wrong. He couldn’t be sure what exactly was going on and he was starting to feel increasingly fearful of what might be happening. This was all so weird, he should’ve just paid more attention to the tour he was on. He had always had trouble listening to others and he was always described as being off in his own little world. When David was a few feet away from the door the corridor opened up a little bit. He saw some large and heavy looking boxes to the side of the wall and they disappeared into the darkness. It was next to impossible to see anything in that murky darkness. “Is anybody in there?” David called out towards the door in front of him. His voice quivered slightly with the nerves he was feeling. There was no answer. If anyone was in the room in front of David they were staying quiet. The door in front of David looked heavy and was made of steel. Just above the door handle was a frosted glass window, the eighteen-year-old couldn’t see what lay beyond the door but the light was pouring through and almost blinding in the otherwise dark hallway. David reached the door and gently pressed against it. The door, much to David’s surprise, opened with ease. The door swung slowly open and David covered his eyes as they adjusted to the sudden light. He tried to see what was happening in the illuminated room but it was all coming into focus very slowly, he eventually saw a long padded table and in the centre of a large room with other things around the edges. “What the hell!?” David asked to no one in particular as he saw a small cage against the rear wall. What kind of room was this?

uhhm, well my friend told me that these forums are really nice!! So I figured I'd join up and see what it's about ? I'm Lavender, but you can call me Rose or Lily/Lilian or Flower or any other floral name you like :3 I'm a little from BC, Canada, looking to make new friends and become more comfortable with my little side. I love to wear diapers and dress up all cute!! I take care of many littles in my area but don't have a caregiver myself. I love dragons, video games, plushies, and making my home really cozy. I live with another ABDL and it's really nice to have her around. Can't wait to meet you all!! Lav ?

I'm trying something out, an anthology of short stories where we join our protagonist after the events that would have been the larger story. These are probably just going to be scenes and nothing too fancy. I figured Halloween might be a good place to start since magic and witches or whatever, but I don't plan on that being a common thing, so if you're anti magic maybe the next one will be better for you. I really just kind of like the idea of joining characters already in or done with whatever main event had happened and seeing what their lives are like afterward. Maybe it's a dumb idea or maybe it's a great idea, I dunno but I got the urge to write something and I did. The Next Day: Tricked and Treated The familiar pounding in my head signaling excessive consumption of alcohol woke me up, well, it brought me around to consciousness at least. I opened my eyes slowly, my lids resisting like old rusted out garage doors pleading loudly with their mechanical screeching against the disruption of their infinite slumber. The world blurred and tilted as my newly regained sight struggled to recalibrate itself after the previous night's events. I closed my eyes and tried to remember the party from the night before, the images fluttering through my mind enshrouded in a thick haze to the point that the only thing that stood out was my girlfriend. I remembered her hovering around me the whole night, being a part of everything I was doing despite our normal routine of separating and having our own fun, meeting periodically throughout the night to touch base and then coming together at the end of the night to leave. The whole thing allowed us to experience the same party completely differently and have things to share with one another that weren't already known. Thinking on our normal routine and the breaking from it for the prior night caused me to remember an argument we'd had, no, it wasn't an argument, I didn't say anything to her, it was more of a lecture, but I couldn't remember the reason for it. I could remember standing in front of her and she was talking to me, yelling at me? We weren't in the main room with everyone else, we were somewhere else, a room that was quieter, I remembered the music being muffled through the door behind me and remembered being thankful that no one outside that door could hear us, but why did I care so much that someone overheard us fighting? My vision finally came into focus and the room had found a stable axis to rest on and I sat up slowly, rubbing my throbbing temple as I propped myself up with my other hand. I sighed and worried about my vision again as the sight of pink flooded my field of view. I wasn't seeing pink elephants though, I was seeing pink everything else, bedding, walls, carpet, my shirt, everything had been drowned in Pepto and it did little to help my aching head. I sighed as I had to assume that I'd found a child's bedroom to crash in at the party and for whatever reason had changed shirts with someone, my skeleton bone bodysuit was obviously nowhere to be found amid the torrent of little girl decoration. I threw the princess sheets off myself and saw more pink in the form of the bottom of my shirt held together with buttons and stretched tightly over a massive bulge with pink plasticky material peeking out either side of the shirt. A tentative poke confirmed that I was indeed wearing a diaper, and the feeling of it led me to believe that it was less than pristine beneath the surface. The argument, or lecture, began to clear up in my mind. I remember standing in front of my girlfriend, looking down at my feet and feeling very ashamed and very sorry. She was chiding me for embarrassing her, my skeleton bodysuit in her hand, shaking at me as she yelled. I remembered seeing my underwear and the large wet spot on the front of it and then I remembered that I'd wet myself waiting outside the bathroom. She'd come from nowhere almost as soon as I'd started peeing and dragged me into the bathroom that I thought had been occupied, hence the waiting, like I was an overgrown toddler. A warmth down below brought me back to the present and I realized I was wetting the diaper I was currently wearing, no feeling other than the warm tickle on my sensitive flesh, which was followed by the sight of streams of yellow liquid coming out from beneath me, soaking into the sheet and pooling where I sat. Freaked out, I shot up from the bed, my knee banging on the short rail on the side, sending me tumbling to the floor face first. Everything was white for a brief second, and as I pushed myself up from my stomach I saw the door to my left open and as I got up onto my hands and knees I saw my girlfriend standing in the doorway with a look of concern on her face. "Baby, did you fall out of bed again? Mommy really should put you back in a proper crib, shouldn't she?" she asked rhetorically, talking to me as if I were too little to comprehend what she was saying to me. The memory of her going from being called "girlfriend" to being called "Mommy" flashed into my brain. She had thrown the skeleton bodysuit into the corner and had removed my underwear and the tub was running. I remembered thinking it was strange that she wanted me to take a bath in a house that wasn't ours while people had a party downstairs, but she was so disappointed in me for having an accident that I didn't argue with her. I remembered that fear shifting from her breaking up with me to her spanking me and then my thumb was coming up to my face, entering my mouth as I fought back tears. She was kneeling next to me now, I was still on all fours, my mind not concerning itself with standing up at the moment, but working on something else entirely. I could hear myself grunting, my hands clutching the carpet as I bore down and pushed. Her hand was stroking the top of my head and moving down the length of my body, stopping on my padded rear as she gently patted the crinkly garment beneath my button connected shirt. "Oh, is Mommy's little girl making a special present in her diaper?" she asked in a singsongy voice. I remembered her helping me out of the tub and wrapping a big, fluffy towel around me as she hugged me. The warmth of that embrace continued to calm me as the bath had, and I felt safe and loved as she dried me off and took my hand to lead me out of the bathroom, my concern about my nudity forgotten as I walked behind her with my thumb once again in my mouth. She picked up a diaper bag that was next to the bathroom door, one I hadn't remembered seeing before, and dug into it, producing a pacifier that she replaced for my thumb, continuing to lead me by the hand down the stairs to the party. I remember the people in the room moving back from us as we entered, clearing a path for us as we went to the center of the large living room and she set to pulling items from the diaper bag, the first being a pink plastic changing mat that she laid out on the floor and guided me down onto my back in the center of it. I looked up at the surrounding crowd of faces and sucked nervously on my pacifier as Mommy set to the task of getting me into my diaper so we could go home. Phones were held up and flashes went off as I was powdered and taped into a thick pink diaper with little princesses on the outside of it before I was sat up and a pink onesie was pulled over my head and unfurled down my body to be stretched over the diaper and snapped shut. "Alright, everyone, now that my little girl is dressed for bed we'll be off. Wave bye bye to everyone, sweetie." she insisted. I was noisily sucking on my pacifier and waving passively, a warm tickle in my diaper making me feel calmer and more sleepy that I had been a moment prior. By the time I was strapped into the carseat in the backseat of the car and we were at the end of the block I was so close to sleep that Mommy's words didn't even make sense to me. My task completed, my body was able to focus on moving again, but instead of standing up, I pressed my bottom against her hand and she followed me down as I sat onto it and the newly deposited contents of my diaper spread across my bottom. I smiled dumbly at her, drool running down my chin as I moved my butt forward and back slowly on her hand. "There we go." she cooed. "I was wondering when everything was finally going to hit you." she said, her doting, sweet tone replaced by a normal speaking voice. "I was worried I hadn't done the spell right when I saw your confused look when I walked in here." she told me. I was struggling to understand her, but that concern was superseded by the growling of my now empty stomach and I whimpered and started to cry as I pawed feebly at her now ample chest tucked away beneath her shirt. "I know," she said, "Mommy will give you a nice full tummy in a second, but before you're totally gone, I want you to know that all of this is for you." she told me. "I found your box of, I guess they were drafts of suicide notes, I couldn't stand reading more than one because of how badly they made me hurt for you." she explained, her eyes brimming with tears. "I've known for a while about your baby side, but I didn't want to bring it up because I didn't want you to feel guilty or ashamed and I figured that once you felt comfortable enough in our relationship that you'd talk to me about it and we'd try some things and have some fun, but you didn't and I got worried because I knew you were keeping a big part of yourself from me and I couldn't understand why." She was crying in earnest now, and her hand had come out from beneath my bottom and she was hugging me to her and I was crying because she was crying and also because I was hungry and that equal partnership was beginning to become less and less equal as the more instant gratification centric baby side of me took over more and more of my thoughts. "I did this to you to save you from doing something terrible to yourself and to me. I didn't feel confident that you could keep yourself safe so I took that worry from you and now you'll be my happy baby forever and ever." she told me, her tone returning slowly to that soft motherly one she'd started with. "Now," she began as she removed her top and undid the clasps on her nursing bra, guiding me backward into the crook of her arm as she held her nipple to my lips, "be a good baby and drink all your milk and then we'll take care of that yucky diaper." she lovingly commanded. I latched on and looked up at her smiling down on me as I began to nurse, the warm, sweet liquid hitting my tongue and rolling down my throat as the world began to close in and become a warm, fuzzy cocoon of love and calm. My life was complete, and it would be forever onward.

As this is my first story, poorly written and unedited, I debated whether to post this or not. In the end, I decided to go ahead and post it. All criticism is appreciated. Thank you for reading, and, please, try to enjoy. -- I was having serious doubts about this. It went against everything I tried to be. Everything that an independent Little should try to be. Mature, a word that usually described me, was not applicable here. A baby stared back at me from the standing mirror. My costume was infantile. A cutesy, poofy, pumpkin outfit. My legs were bare, as the costume acted more like a onesie. Matching booties adorned my feet. My hair, usually a bob cut, was done up in short pigtails. I looked, for all intents and purposes, like an adopted Little ready to go trick-or-treating with her Mommy. That was the point, though. I wasn't really adopted, and my parents were still related to me by blood. I was ready to go trick-or-treating, however. Eighteen year olds didn't go trick-or-treating, though. Especially not eighteen year old, independent Littles. But, that wasn't to be the case this year. I wanted to do something festive for Halloween. I didn't want to go to some crazy party. I didn't want to watch horror movies at home, with my best friend, for the fourth year in a row. I didn't want to go to the school-sponsored dance. I did like candy, though. When my best friend, Leah, suggested her silly, almost-demeaning idea, I was initially all for it. We couldn't trick-or-treat, because we were too old. Adopted Littles could go trick-or-treating. I was a Little, and Leah was an Amazon. If we went trick-or-treating, acting like an adopted Little and her Amazon, we could definitely get away with a haul of candy. And, we'd be going across town, to make sure that we wouldn't see anyone we knew. It made sense at the time. It made sense, until I put on the costume Leah picked out. A pumpkin. At least it's more festive than a princess costume, or something else. I had been prepared, but it was much more humiliating in person. The costume itself was bad enough. The babyish hairstyle was pushing it too. The worst part was the diaper, that she insisted I wear underneath the costume. I made a fuss about it. Letting my emotions get the better of me was something I didn't let happen often, but a diaper was too much. It had bad connotations to Littles, even in a country as progressive as ours. But, Leah calmed me down. To fool people, she said, the costume had to be really authentic. It did make sense. However, despite my apprehension, I did intend on making use of the costume. Candy was much more important than my pride. "Where's your costume?" I stopped looking in the mirror, and turned to Leah, as she walked into the room. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt, normal clothing. "I'm wearing it. I'm a Mommy." "Please. I thought you were supposed to be my babysitter?" "Mommy sounds cuter, though." "Leah, we're like the same age. No one's gonna believe you're my mommy." "There's tons of 'Mommys' and cute Littles, who've fallen in love at our age, Giselle." "I guess." "Plus, no one's gonna care about me. How old I am, or what costume I'm wearing. All they're gonna care about is the cutie in the stroller. Now let's get going, we don't want to keep you up past your bedtime." She winked at me, before swiftly taking me into her arms. "Bedtime? It's only five o'clock. I don't normally go to sleep until eleven." "Cute, babied Littles usually go to bed at eight." I rolled my eyes. This was already too much, and we hadn't even gotten out of the door. I really wanted to back out. I didn't mind her carrying me much, she's picked me up and carried me many times before. I did mind the teasing. The mature thing was not to react, though. I knew she didn't mean anything by it. I stayed silent as we moved towards the front door of her house. "I feel like you're gonna go baby crazy." I said. Leah shook her head. "I'm sorry for teasing you, Giselle. I promise I'm not catching baby fever or anything. Even if I was, I doubt I'd want my best friend." Even if she was, it'd be nonpermanent. It was hard to just snatch an unwilling Little in our country. It'd be embarassing, sure, especially with the position I put myself into, but nonpermanent. I took solace in her words, though. "I slipped your phone into your diaper-bag." It took me a second to register what she said, and another to spit out my question. "Diaper-bag?" "Yes, adopted Littles have diaper-bags, right? If you're gonna pretend to be adopted, you need all the accessories." "Where did you even get one?" "Spare, from when my cousin stays over. Just like everything else." "Everything else?" "Yep. The diaper you're wearing, and the two in the bag, are hers. The stroller, pacifier and bottles too." That was a lot to process. I really hadn't thought about what tonight would entail. My lust of candy blinded me. She must've seen my reaction, as she just stood in the entranceway, waiting for my response. "A stroller?" I finally eaked out. "Yes. You don't espect me to carry you, a diaperbag, and your candy pail all night, do you?" "I didn't expect any of it!" I didn't mean to yell, but I was getting flustered. It was getting too humiliating. Neither of us said anything for a moment. Quietly, I said. "I think I don't wanna go out." "Aw, c'mon Giselle." She said. "I don't wanna force you or anything, but think about this. No one's gonna know it's you. We're going all the way across town. No one we go to school with lives over there. No one will find out. It's going to be embarassing, still, but think of all the candy. Think of how fun it'll be. Way more fun than staying at home watching B-rated horror movies, right?" She was right, but- "Candy. Halloween. Candy." "I guess." "Then it's settled." Leah bent down and picked up the diaperbag, with me in hand, and then left the house. I was worried about this part, due to the high chance of someone we knew seeing us, but I was in the car in seconds. She buckled me into the carseat, that was a permanent fixture of the backseat of her car. It was plain, black, and comfortable. A necessity for all Little passengers, she needed to have one in the car to drive me around. It got a lot of use. She picked me up and drove me home from school every day. She placed the diaperbag on the floor, before getting into the driver's seat. The car started, the radio was turned on to some generic pop station, and we were off. Leah and I talked briefly about class, but her attention was focused on the road. Without a phone, I was got bored quickly. I wanted to worry more about tonight's events, but that wasn't exactly good conversation. For the twenty minutes it took to get across town, I listlessly stared out the window and hummed along to the radio. By the time we were parked in a community center parking lot, my nervousness had increased. Butterflies weren't just fluttering but flinging themselves around in my stomach. Candy. Halloween. Festive. Repeated over and over again in my mind. Leah didn't immediately take me out of the car. Instead, the trunk was opened, and Leah got something out. I guessed that it was the stroller, as I hadn't seen it yet. After a moment, Leah walked to my door and opened it. I was unbuckled, picked up, and deposited in a pink monstrosity. The canopy was bright pink. The tray in front of me was bright pink. The eight point harness was bright pink as well. The cushioning around me was a muted pink. From what I could tell, the rest of the device was the same shade of pink as the cushioning. The seat faced forward, making me unable to see Leah. It did make me visible to everyone we would pass by. Leah moved to the side of the stroller, and leaned down to talk to me. "Are you ready?" "As I'll ever be." "Alright then, let's get trick-or-treating." This neighborhood had a good number of trick-or-treaters. The parking lot was packed with cars, and there seemed to be some tents and booths set up in a section of it. I didn't know what they were for, and there wasn't a lot indicating their purpose. Lots of mothers, probably in their thirties or older, and lots of Littles. Some normal Amazonian children were running around, but not many. Most were probably accompanying their mothers and Little siblings. Leah pushed me towards a two-story, yellow house. Despite it not being dark yet, the porchlight was on. It didn't have much of a porch, with just two steps leading up to the door. She pushed the doorbell, and waited. Only a couple seconds went by before an older woman, probably in her mid-fifties, opened the door. She didn't say anything, but looked at me expectantly. Leah looked down at me. "C'mon sweetie. I know you're shy, but you want some candy, don't you?" It took me a second to register what she meant. I blushed, and said. "Trick-or-treat." "That'sa girl." Leah held out the candy pail, which she must've been holding on to. The woman threw a few Amazon-sized pieces of candy in the bucket. "Now what do we say to the nice lady?" "Thank you, Miss." The lady responded with a "Happy Halloween" and we departed towards the next house. It went much the same way. Eventually, I got into the swing of things, and my candypail increasingly got filled with candy. The embarassment didn't fade, but I managed. We were doing something festive. We were getting candy doing it. I could deal with looking like a baby for a night. When we walked up to the fifteenth house, Leah stopped, which meant I stopped too. "What's wrong, Leah?" I tried to look around, but the harness limited my movement and the canopy restricted my view. She leaned down to whisper to me. "I don't want you to get upset, but I just remembered something that I wanted you to try." That didn't sound good. "Yeah?" "One second." She disappeared momentarily, and then came back into view. Next thing I knew, she was waving a pacifier in front of me. "Oh no. No. What'd even be the point?" I asked. "To make you look cuter? More candy, maybe? Look at it. It matches." She was right. It was a jack-o-lantern styled pacifier. Orange, green, with black eyes and a black mouth. I really didn't want to be sucking on a pacifier, though. "Didn't you say it was your cousins?" "Yep." "Isn't it weird that it matches me?" "Not really. She has a pacifier for every holiday. I picked the pumpkin costume out with this in mind, too." That was a good enough, excuse, but still. "Just try it. Cute Littles get more candy." She was right. "If I didn't know better, I would swear you were easing me into this, trying to really turn me into your baby." I sighed. Another concern popped into my head. "Isn't that unsanitary?" "Don't worry. I washed it. You really think I'm that bad of a Mommy?" She smiled jokingly. I groaned. "Ok, ok. Babysitter." With no good excuses, I reluctantly accepted the pacifier into my mouth. I gave it a test suck, but it was kinda hard and uncomfortable. "Cute. Very authentic. Try to keep it in, ok?" Leah finally rolled me up to the house. It was the same style as the previous nine, but it was a different color. Blue, this time. A man opened the door. "Trick-or-treat." I tried to say, but the pacifier muffled what I said. It came out sounding lispy and babyish. The man dropped a few pieces of candy in the candypail. He smiled at me as I thanked him. "Is she yours?" He asked Leah. "You seem awfully young." It took her a second to respond. Probably deciding what to say. "No, I'm just babysitting her, while her parents stay at home." I was glad she chose that answer, as I absolutely did not want to call my best friend "Mommy." "Well, that's good for them to get some alone time. My wife's out with ours, right now. Anyway, I won't keep you guys. Have a Happy Halloween." We returned the farewell, and then headed towards the next house. This repeated, until we did a full circuit of the block. By this point, the sun was getting low in the sky. We had been trick-or-treating for at least an hour. I wasn't even walking, but even I was getting a bit tired. Tired of being embarassed, but also tired of the repetition. Even Leah seemed to be lagging a little, even if it was barely noticeable. We stopped at the corner of the block. "Do you want to rest for a minute?" I let the pacifier drop from my mouth. "Yeah." "Here." Leah audibly fiddled with the bag behind me. A baby-bottle was hung in front of me. "Something to drink. You have to be thirsty." She was right. I was a bit thirsty. It was a huge bottle, though, and I doubted that I was that thirsty. I took it from Leah. Even both my hands didn't completely wrap around the bottle. I examined the bottle. A clear liquid was contained inside. Water, obviously. I put the nipple into my mouth. It was a struggle to get the water to flow through it. I had to tip my head back, and suck in a certain rythm. Even then, the bottle didn't drain very fast. It felt like an eternity to drink just half of the bottle. I looked at Leah, who had sat down in front of the stroller to rest. I popped my lips from the bottle's nipple. "Are we about done?" "Well, the candypail is only half-full." said Leah. "Only half?" She nodded. We had been around only one block, but it felt like we were getting a lot of candy. I sorta wanted to call it good. We've had some festivity, and we got some candy. Then, I thought for a moment. Half of a pail full of Amazon-sized candy would be more than enough for me. Leah, on the other hand, wouldn't get hardly any candy. She'd be better off buying some at a convenience store. The whole idea was for us both to get a load of candy, and to do it in a festive manner. We'd have to keep going, then. "Alright, let me finish drinking this, and then let's keep trick-or-treating." While I drank the other half of the bottle, Leah stood and grabbed something else out of diaperbag. "Here, another bottle. Just in case you get thirsty later." She placed it next to me in the stroller, and took the other bottle once it had been emptied. We then took off towards the next block. It was much like the first block. Same style of house, and same demographic. The affinity of Amazons for Littles made sure that our candypail was full by the time we visited every house. Embarassment was still a problem, but that might have contributed to our haul. Amazons love humiliated, embarassed Littles, after all. Either that, the Amazons of this neighborhood were just expectionally generous, or I forgot how fast candy accumulates when trick-or-treating. Despite taking only another hour, the moon replaced the sun by the time we had finished. The bottle that Leah had left with me was empty. I had suckled on it inbetween houses. It was a lot of water, but it kept my mind focused on something other than the situation and candy. I was definitely not thirsty now. I had a slight urge to pee, but it could wait until I got back to Leah's house and out of this costume. We had been out here two hours, though, meaning it was probably around seven o'clock. Leah and I both normally ate around this time. We would probably be leaving soon, as there wasn't a whole lot of real food here. "Do you want to visit the booths in the parking lot?" Leah asked. "I was wondering what those were for?" "The community center here holds a fair on Halloween, as well as other holidays." She said. "Do you want to go?" "Not really. I was hoping we could get some food." "They have food at the fair." "Well-" My stomach audibly growled. Hunger was winning out over my other need. "That settles it, then. Unless you really want to go somewhere else?" I didn't. I didn't want to go to the fair either, but I could handle being humiliated for some food. There was no argument from me, as Leah pushed us towards the booths and tents. The small area of parking lot that made up the fairgrounds was packed with people. I could hardly see the booths and tents through the crowd. Leah seemed to know where to go, however. We eventually stopped at the end of a line. A delicious smell wafted through the air. The pressure on my bladder was increasing, but the idea of food took my mind off it. I definitely wanted whatever this booth was selling before we left. By the time we got to the front of the line, I was starving. Even if it was, as I discovered, just generic fair-food. Leah ordered for both of us. A Little-sized corndog and some home-made chips in a basket for me, and an Amazon-sized version of the same thing for herself. She handed me both baskets to carry. Hers dwarfed mine. Holding on tight to both baskets, I felt Leah begin to push the stroller again. We moved towards the edge of the parking lot, and away from the fair. Leah stopped us in a grassy area by the road. The food was delicious, as fair food usually is. It was greasy, hot, and filling. I scarfed mine down quickly. Leah was only half-way through her corndog and chips by the time my basket was empty. While basking in the afterglow of fullness, I remembered my other need. I had to pee, and I had to pee really bad. Littles have never been renowned for their bladder control, and I was no exception. When I had to pee bad, I had to go right then. I'd already held it for a few hours, which was a pretty big feat. "Leah." "Yeah?" She popped a chip into her mouth. "I need to go to the bathroom." She raised one of her eyebrows questioningly. "Why not just use your diaper? That's what it's there for." "Leah!" I fidgeted. "This isn't a joke. I'm not a baby, I need a restroom." Despite being best friends for most of our lives, I don't think Leah had ever seen me this desparate. I was usually very careful about my toilet needs. "And I'm not joking either. Wouldn't it be weird to see a Little, just seconds ago diapered, using the toilet?" "No one would know! Please, Leah, take me to the restroom." I was getting really desparate. "I'm sure someone would hear the tapes being ripped off. It's a crowded event, with one bathroom." I thought about it, and I guess she wasn't wrong. "It'd kinda defeat the whole point of this, if someone found out that you aren't an adopted Little." I don't know if it was just that I agreed with her, or if my bladder just gave out. A warm, wet sensation spread across my privates and my butt. Tears welled up in my eyes, and my face turned to a deep shade of red. That was the most embarassing thing that had ever happened to me. Wearing a diaper already had bad enough connotations to most independent Littles, but basically being forced to use it too? I wanted to curl up and die. I wanted to be changed more, though. "Leah," My voice was soft, and waivering. "I want out of this diaper, please." "Alright, just one second." She popped the last of her food into her mouth, before grabbing my basket and putting it in hers. She held onto it, as she started to push the stroller towards the community center. The whole way there, I could feel the wet, slick feeling of my piss-filled diaper. I felt like everyone was staring at me. They knew what I'd done. They knew what I was, and what I felt like. A puny, dumb, babied Little. The curling up and dying almost sounded nicer than a change. Leah deposited our trash in the trashcan outside of the community center's restrooms. She wheeled me into the restroom. I had expected it to be very crowded, but it seemed to be empty. I almost protested to her about earlier, but decided against it. There was no way she could've known, and, with the amount of people mulling around, even I assumed it was going to be crowded. Three stalls occupied the rightside of the room, while the left wall had two changing stations. Seemingly unconcerned for my wants, we headed towards the changing stations. "Leah." I whined. "Take me to one of the stalls." "No." I knew she already had some reason lined up to deny me privacy. I sighed. "Why not?" "If someone came in, it'd be suspicious." "Of course. Fine." I acquiesced. She unbuckled me and lifted me out of the stroller, before placing me on the changing table. In just seconds, she had me out of my pumpkin costume. I was now naked, except for my wet diaper and an undershirt, that I luckily decided to wear under the costume. While this bothered me, I didn't care too much. All I wanted was to be out of this diaper, and if I had to be nearly naked, then so be it. She placed the costume off to the side, before gently pushing me onto my back. Leah untaped the diaper, exposing my crotch to cold air. I wasn't particularly upset at Leah seeing me naked. We'd been nude around eachother before. The diaper was slide out from under me, and Leah quickly got to work cleaning me up. I felt a lot better because of that. I did not feel any better, when the door to the restroom opened. A woman walked in, carrying a Little girl about my age and a diaperbag in her arms. The girl was dressed in a witch's costume. I was not very pleased that both of them were getting a great view of my naked bottom. My face turned the same shade of red from earlier. The woman carried her Little to the next changing table, and got to work. I couldn't see anything, unlike them, but I could hear her working. Leah began to get a new diaper out for me, when the woman spoke. "Is she new?" "I'm sorry?" Leah froze, leaving me with nothing on still. "Was she just adopted?" The woman motioned towards me. "Oh, uh, yes. She was just adopted a couple of weeks ago." "I could tell. They're always so blushy when they're new." Leah nodded, still ignoring my bare form. "My Elodie was the same way at first. Is she yours?" "No. I'm just babysitting." Leah started paying attention to me again, and a new diaper was slipped under me. I was quite thankful. "That's awfully nice of you. Taking her out Trick-or-Treating, and letting Mommy and Daddy get some rest." Leah smiled in response, while she finished up. The woman must've noticed that Leah was done, as she then said. "Sorry to bother you two, dears. Happy Halloween, have a nice night." I was placed back into the stroller, and we left the restroom. It was late now. By my guess, it was around seven thirty. The crowds were dissipating, and the parking lot was much emptier. "Ready to go home?" "Of course." It wasn't long before we were back at Leah's house, and I was out of that pumpkin costume. I was back in normal clothes, a simple t-shirt and jeans. A dumb, b-rated, horror movie played on the the television, as I unwound from the rather unpleasant night. The candpail was sat between me and Leah, and we both picked at it for the occasional piece of candy. Being in a constant state of embarassment was much more tiring than I would've though. As I popped an over-sized piece of candy into my mouth, I wondered if tonight was worth it. The candy was good, but we could've just bought some at the store. Then, we could've been watching a silly horror movie three hours earlier. It was festive, though. In the end, I decided it didn't matter. I was duped into doing it, by both Leah and myself, but I got some free candy in a festive manner. It was as happy of a Halloween as I could hope for.

I'm very happy people are still interested in the story. I've had some gnarly writer's block on this, but I'm hoping to get back to it soon, hopefully around Thanksgiving time.

Chapter Eleven: Betsy carried me into the hotel, with my diaper pressed firmly to her hip. After the incident, the rest of the day felt like a blur. Whenever I tried to move past it, I couldn't help but think about it. And when I thought about it, I felt myself slip further away. Was I really such a baby now? Wasn't I an actress? I put my face into Betsy's shoulder and tried not to think at all. It was easier if I didn't think... There'd been some changes since we were here last; the crib was still there, dressed up against the door wall, framed in petty curtains, and the bed was where I remembered it being... only it was a twin now, and not a full size. How had they done that? Was this the same room? How did Abe convince the hotel to swap out the bed? And more importantly, why? There was something new, though, something I didn't expect to see - an adult sized changing table, stocked on left and right with diapers in different designs and colors, little holsters holding baby powder and oil, lotions and accessories, and a large colored plastic ring with at least a dozen pacifiers hanging from it like a keychain. "Here we are, Baby Luvs.” The film crew followed Betsy with the Baby who'd been Leona, catching every detail as she was sat down on the changing table. They missed nothing about the scene as Betsy checked Leona’s only recently changed diaper, as though the adult would have had an accident in the past hour. Betsy pushed me down on my back and stuck a finger in the leg-band of my diaper to feel the soft, dry padding. I didn't slap her or push her away. I just let it happen. Like I was proud. Proud to be dry, and proud to have proven I wasn't a baby! Even if I was having my diaper checked on camera... "There's a good girl, nice and dry for now so you'll be nice and wet for Mommy by morning now, won't you?" Then, like this was some big joke, she looked at the camera and winked, “Maybe even more than wet, as you all now know." I wanted to throttle her. I didn't get the chance, though, because once the cameras went off, she left. She left with Leona up on the changing table, me sitting on the bed, and a lot to discuss. "Are you okay?" "Fine," I muttered, struggling to sit up in the thick pink diaper. I wasn't wearing pants - Betsy didn't think it was necessary. Fighting her was too much work. I slid off the changing table and looked down at the t-shirt, stained with baby food and sweat. "I'm going to shower..." I really, really, really needed it. "Are you allowed to?" Which was a worthwhile question, because last night she certainly wasn't allowed to do anything of the sort. Admittedly, this time there were diapers in the room, plenty of supplies to replace what she was wearing. But at the same time there were complications - I had to take amateur video of her, and if in the morning she was wearing a different diaper to the one she was in now, they'd know anyway. "I don't care!" I said sharply and slammed the bathroom door behind me. I didn't even have to pee, but I ripped off the diaper and sat on the toilet all the same, acting like I might. I just... I just needed something grown up. But no matter how long I sat there, it didn't make up for what I'd done earlier. I stripped myself of the dirty shirt and climbed into the hot shower. I just needed to relax. I didn't know what to do. On the one hand, this was a job. Just a job and nothing else, and she was just a model, and I was already crossing the line on professionalism. But whatever I felt for her... whatever fucked up little sentiment it was, be it lust, longing, love, maternity, I couldn't exactly ignore it. So while she showered, I went downstairs to the lobby and ordered food to bring up to the room. Maybe eating like an adult would cheer her up. I wrapped the towel tight around my perky breasts and stepped out into the hotel room, between the crib and the small dining table with only two chairs. Jackie was sitting on the far one, eating a little box of take out. Across from her, by the other seat, was another box. I snatched it up and walked over to the edge of the twin-sized bed and ate alone. I shouldn't have said anything, because I knew she was riled up still, but I'd spent a lot of money on this meal and the gesture besides. "Oh yeah, you're welcome Leona, oh no don't worry about it, I don't mind helping out a friend, especially when everyone around her obviously treats her like she doesn’t deserve a voice.” Snarky didn't even begin to describe my tone. "We aren't friends," I said sharply and shoved another chunk of chicken in my mouth. We were work friends at best. Acquaintances. She took pictures of me and I posed in diapers. Symbiotic relationship. I didn't even want her here. "I guess if we're not friends, then I'm just what Abe hired me to be at night - a babysitter." I snapped a picture of her right there, scowling in her towel. "And if that's the case, then things are going to be a little different around her young lady." I was no Betsy, but I did have a pretty good firm tone from growing up in a big household. And that tone carried extremely well as I got up from the table and approached her on the bed. Young lady? I looked up at her nervously and pulled the towel tighter over my chest. "I'm not a baby, Jackie." Unlike my employer, I knew her name, even if I didn't say it often. "And I don't need you here. I'll make sure I'm dressed properly for tomorrow," I said with harsh cynicism. I was never so bothered by my work, not really. But today... a blush touched my cheeks. Like her words didn't mean anything, I took the food from her hands - the box and the chopsticks - and set them down on the side table of the bed. "I'm the babysitter, which makes you the baby, Baby Luvs." Ugh I hated that name. Where was this even coming from? "Unless you'd prefer to be friends?" Tone drop. Happy smile. And I kissed her on the forehead. Was she blushing? “Listen. I’m not Betsy, I'm not going to like... force you to do stuff, or embarrass you, that's not me. But you know we could use these nights together like aftercare? I could give you a bath, and brush your hair, and we could watch TV together. You know, soft stuff, to help you recover for the next day?" I pulled away from her and crossed my arms over my chest, looking down at my bare feet, an inch or two off the carpet as I sat on the edge of the bed. I really was small... "I dun need a babysitter," I said more to myself than to Jackie. Maybe... trying to convince myself. "Then we'll be friends?" Jackie asked. Begrudgingly, I nodded my head. Better than the alternative. I put my hand to her chin, guided her eyes to meet mine, and smiled softly. Wow was she ever beautiful. "Then let me take care of my friend, okay? Let me help you get ready for bed, and once you're dressed, I can put your hair in braids to stop it tangling when you sleep. And while I'm doing that you can finish eating dinner and watch TV? Right here on the bed, okay, me and you?" I mean, my dinner would go cold, but I'd ate a lot when she was in the shower. And I was very good at justifying things to myself. "...whatever," I muttered, but it was as much of a concession as Jackie would get. She got up and went to the hotel closet, only to find it empty. But on the changing table, to the left of the diapers, was a small stack of onesies, the sort that snapped between your legs. I'd noticed them earlier, but I didn't say anything. I'd rather be naked than wear that stupid stuff right now! With a sigh I approached the changing table, looking for something of a middle ground, something to show that I was different. But there were only the sorts of clothes Betsy would dress her in, only the sorts of embarrassing things a baby would wear. Only the things that made me tingle in places I didn't want to. Fuck. If I couldn't pick something different, I'd just act different. I snatched up a mint green onesie, and a diaper to boot, even though I'd never had any experience with either, and came back to the bed. "Alright you little cutiepop, lay down, let's get this over with and I'll show you how my Mom used to do my hair when I was younger, alright? You'll love it, I promise." "I'm not wearing it," I said flatly. I'd already made up my mind. Tomorrow, I was going to have a serious talk with Abe. He crossed a line today. And if he wanted me to keep wearing these stupid diapers for his stupid website, he was going to treat me right! Until I spoke to him, I wouldn't wear another diaper. I had a lot of logic, like how the snaps on that onesie would be utterly awful against her body without anything between them and her, or about how Betsy would be mad, or about how she wet the bed last night. What I said, though, was none of that. "You wouldn't wear it, not even for me?" Batted lashes. Wow, was I doing this? "I just always thought you were so cute, Leona, diapers and all.” I looked at her from the corner of my eye. Was she being serious? She was acting like an idiot. But... "I'm not a baby," I muttered. "But if you break the rules, and I don't enforce them, I'm the one that gets in trouble you know." I.. didn't think about that… "This has nothing to do with you." “Maybe Abe will find another photographer, or he'll have Betsy babysit at night?" I let that sink in. "And I don't know about you, Leona, but I had a great time in the park, and I wouldn't want my friend to be left with someone awful like that." I motioned for her to lay down. ...Betsy at night? I felt my hair stand on end and swallowed hard. Betsy for five more days... I bit hard on my lip and looked at my feet. "W-well... I... I guess..." I didn't want to wear the stupid diaper though! I reached to take it out of her hands and she pulled it away. I pouted. "What? I can do it on my own... I've done it a thousand times." Before Betsy, no one changed my diapers on set. I took care of it myself. "I should learn how to do it, though. I mean if I'm going to stay with you at night, if I learn how to do it, then Betsy won't need to change you in the mornings, right?" It was circular logic, and I knew it, but she was blushing and receded into herself and her voice was soft, so maybe I'd get away with it. "...but..." I looked down at my body, still clad in the damp towel, and played with my fingers in front of me. This felt... weird. I thought we were friends, and she wasn't my babysitter, but here she was diapering me? Before I could think of a way to argue, though, Jackie gently pushed me backwards onto the bed. I looked up at the ceiling nervously. "I don't like this," I muttered. "New experiences can be scary, don't worry." Like she had anything to worry about compared to me, though! "Talk me through it, okay?" And then, I whispered. "Maybe with your thumb in your mouth because you're so stinkin' cute like that. It might make me feel less afraid of messing this up." I gave her a sharp glare, but she laughed it off. Jeeze, she was irritating sometimes... "Just don't be a pervert or whatever and stare at my cunt, alright?" But despite the very grown up words, I felt no less a child being diapered. She took off the towel and I lifted my butt. "The side with the tapes goes down first..." Alright, I could do that! Just like origami, really, except instead of making a swan I was... yeah, okay, nothing like origami. But I got her positioned on the padded inside, got things lined up, and did my best to keep my eyes away from her nudity (although I did wonder if she shaved or waxed or just never had any hair below her waist.. ugh, don't think about that!) Phew. What next? You can do this, Jackie! Unlike Betsy who kept a stern face, who said mocking things, who lifted her ass and moved her around by force, I was everything the contrary. I asked her to move her butt. I smiled genuinely, maybe to put her at ease or maybe I was just proud of myself. And I told her how much help she was being. "Powder..." I always used baby powder, but now it was a necessity. I would wet this diaper too, sometime tomorrow morning. Ugh, I already detested it! "And put that tape here, and this one here..." I would have been more embarrassed if she was any good at this. Honestly, her ineptitude made me feel a whole lot less incompetent. “Like that?” “Yep, that's it." A nice, warm, dry diaper was firmly taped around my waist. I had basically done it myself, but... well, I guess Jackie did an alright job. And I was sort of happy she helped. Just a little.

Hi my name is Caleb and I am a diaper lover and the South Bend area. I would love to talk with others and meet up with others. Anyone in Indiana who likes diapers feel free to respond to this post.

I hope you get your operation soon and thank you for a very good chapter

It's great to see more of this story! I hope you get your liver very soon boo!

That's what I enjoy about the supplements; It's doing exactly what it should do to my system. When I feel the urge to go, it doesn't take much to push out a soft load. Sometimes it's on the smaller side, but today it was large and explosive, and one heck of a cleanup. I just leaned forward slightly and filled up the entire back of my diaper until it ran out of room and instead pushed towards the front as well.

This afternoon, not long after work. I've been partaking of messy diapers almost every day thanks to needing to take fiber supplements. I was put on them by a doctor temporarily, but if I can continue to take them afterwords, I will! Every day has been a super soft load that fills the entire back of my diaper, and its wonderful. (I can live with the cleanup)

My Mom didn't like doing the extra laundry but she seemed to reach the point where she believed me when I said I couldn't help it. Which I couldn't. Dad was a career military control freak and manipulator who didn't believe me. Nor would he allow me any form of protection. I was punished mentally, physically, given encouragement to stop- in short anything which might change the outcome but none of it worked. I was taken to the best Doctors and Shrinks the Military had and they could find nothing to cause this. In retrospect I believe much of it was because I slept so deeply. I was still bedwetting nearly every night into my mid-teens when it slowly started tapering off and became nearly dry (except when drunk) in my early to mid 20's. The worst for me was my siblings, who taunted me at home (that wasn't allowed in public because Dad was ashamed of my pants and bed wetting) without mercy. Most of my peers knew and rarely wanted anything to do with me. Even my closest friends (of which there were few) made fun of me at times. None of them realized that this would have a very negative life-long affect on my social assimilation. In short, they destroyed my chances for a normal life. I know they didn't intend that but it happened regardless and it's been very hard to forgive them but I have. Back then there were only cloth diapers in larger sizes- no disposables- and "incontinence pants" with a changeable liner. Dad wasn't going to have a kid in diapers so I never got anything to help. After he died Mom and us were too poor to have anything so I just had to deal with it. Everyone close to me knew about it- you can't hide something like this at that level- though it was rarely spoken of. It's a much better world for the kids now, with well-advertised products and medical understanding far advanced from then, and a far more general understanding that there is no specific age or point where everyone is dry; it happens when it happens. Kids do still have to deal with peer pressure (I have a grand-nephew who needed protection till he was about 9) and were it not for him having excellent parents he would have probably suffered nearly as badly as I did. He's becoming a fine young man now and I'm happy that he got the chances to be that way which I never did. Bettypooh

Part 17 Saturday and my birthday arrived. Officially I was now a twelve year old and had cards with that printed on to prove it. I’d received a couple of presents – to my great surprise Joe had managed to find another Barnaby Blue annual in a second hand book store. It was a little tatty but I was quite overwhelmed he’d gone to so much trouble. Meanwhile, Geoff’s attitude had softened and I was surprised to find a badly wrapped globe as his gift. I’m not sure where he’d got it from but I loved it. It was another thoughtful present that I couldn’t believe came from my brothers. Mum and dad looked equally shocked and said they’d give me their gift later… I think it was a late delivery and were still waiting to collect it from the shop. Not surprisingly it was auntie who’d organised the restaurant and the entire family dressed up for the event. Of course, I wore my new suit. It was the first time the family had seen me in it and I was wearing a well-padded nappy and thick plastic pants just to be sure. I checked myself in the mirror and flattened the bulge down a little bit. At first I wasn’t too sure; the red braces, red tie, red and black checked socks… I knew from past experience that the longer shorts hid my protection to a degree but I was still nervous as I emerged from the bedroom for everyone to see me in all my ‘Italian style’ glory. # I knew I looked smart because of the comments from auntie’s friends but my family made me a little uneasy, thankfully Joe said I looked just like Barnaby, which pleased me no end. Meanwhile, mum and dad just whistled their approval and Geoff nodded his. My Italian styling hadn’t set everyone off into giggles, there were no snide comments, just positive remarks and any trepidation I’d had quickly disappeared. Auntie of course just beamed with pride as the birthday boy took up his position as the centre of attention. I loved it. There was no doubt about it; I was still very much the baby of the family. I was still growing into the shorts and jacket but despite this; it was something of mine, and mine alone, so felt quite proud of that. Now I’d worn it a couple of times I did feel ‘different’ than when I wore anything else… even my school uniform. That little boy in the original advert was all smiles and happiness as he trundled around Venice with his mother and, I got a similar feeling wearing my suit. So, despite all my worries about how I looked, I did feel pretty confident when out wearing it. Compared with what everyone else my age was wearing… I knew it was special. # I don’t think I looked anywhere near a twelve year old. Even when the waiters brought the celebratory cake and sang Happy Birthday, I think they thought they’d put too many candles on it. Anyway, we had a good time, the restaurant and food were both fun as the waiters kept us (and the other customers) entertained throughout the evening. They couldn’t see the thick nappy under my stylishly longer shorts and now Geoff had stopped his ribbing everything passed off really well. Mum and dad had got me a baseball cap that had a LED light in the rim, which lit up. This was completely unlike my parents, normally they’d be far more practical but I loved it. I’d never seen such a thing before so thought I’d be unique on the estate - trendy at last. To my surprise both Joe and Geoff were envious of my new acquisition and wanted to try it on. The cap didn’t go with my suit but I didn’t care, this was something different and I thought how wonderful my family was to have given me such nice presents. Auntie had bought me a very special looking fountain pen for school. I felt, for a few moments at least, quite grown-up, that is until I realised my nappy was soaked and I hadn’t known I’d done it. Well, I knew how I’d done it I just didn’t feel it happening, which was a worry. The fact that I now changed myself made me wriggle in the seat, nervous of going to the men’s room, in case it made for a bit of a downer on this special event. I also wasn’t sure if mum had brought spares because I hadn’t. Also, I didn’t want to give Geoff any further ammo and, as it was all going so well, didn’t want to draw attention to myself. So, I swished around in a very mushy nappy until we got home. Strangely, because my trendy long blue shorts were hiding my ‘accident’ so well, I felt really at ease. No one but me knew and the thickening material between my legs, although damp, was quite a comfort. I sneakily ran my hand over the front of my shorts and felt the slippery vinyl bulge beneath. I sighed in grateful relief that my wetness was so well contained. As mum would say: “Thank God for plastic pants.” # Before the party came to an end, auntie handed me yet another wrapped present and said she hoped it was just what I wanted but told me not to open it until I got home. I couldn’t wait. The package was soft so I gathered that it might be some more new clothes, perhaps something else the clever Mrs Goodall had concocted, but, after what auntie had bought me over the last few weeks, I was hoping she hadn’t gone to too much expense. All in all it had been a fantastic night. Despite the fact I knew Joe and Geoff thought a ‘fun’ restaurant was a bit uncool for them, they joined in with all the merriment. I don’t know if mum and dad had said anything (I hoped not) but I was just pleased it had gone off so well. As auntie left in a taxi I promised her I’d go and visit her again in a couple of weeks, which she was pleased about. She was also pleased when mum told her about the positive comments she was getting from the school even after only a week. They nodded knowingly to each other. My continued wetting wasn’t mentioned once, for which I was grateful though I’m not sure if either mum or auntie had guessed I was soaked. # When I got home I opened auntie’s second present, I’d expected some new colourful Mrs Goodall pyjama creation, or something similar, what it was were my first pair of long trousers. I slowly pulled them from the wrapping and was excited to see that they matched the shorts of my suit and clearly what I’d hoped for from the very beginning. My birthday was getting better and better and, typical of auntie; she’d got me something she knew meant a great deal to me. At last, when I wore my suit, I would no longer feel like a little kid. I was so excited. I eased down my suit shorts over my swollen nappy and kicked them onto my bed. I wasn’t sure if I should change first but I was just too eager and quickly slipped the special item up my legs. They were a little long and I found it difficult to fasten the catch at the waist. I realised that I’d only be able to wear them if I wasn’t wearing thick padding. Auntie had given me what I wanted but, in giving them to me, there was an encouragement to try and stop wetting. Mum was standing at the bedroom door as I tried them on. “Oh sweetheart… you’ll look terrific in them.” She came over and tried to fasten me in. “Ahh, I see what auntie planned here… do you?” I nodded. Actually, I wasn’t sure what to make of it. I thought I’d be grown-up about it but I felt disappointed, as if wetting was something I could stop. If I could, don’t they think I would have by now? # She poked a finger up the leg-hole of my plastic pants. “C’mon mister, birthday boy or not, we’d better get you out of this wet nappy and into something drier.” I was about to do it myself but mum took charge, slowly stripping me out of my best clothes (and hanging them up) and easing down my plastic pants. The thick fabric was well waterlogged so she got a towel and dried me down. Although mum had given me the independence to change myself, and it was something I was proud to do, I really liked it when mum did this and I felt quite relaxed as she powdered and tightly pinned everything in place. A new pair of blue vinyl pants was pulled up and over the padding and she asked if I wanted to come down and watch TV for a bit. It was well past my normal bedtime but was suggested as a bit of a treat because of my birthday. I’m not a late night person so I told her I was quite tired and that I’d like to go straight to bed. She kissed my forehead, said she hoped I’d had a terrific birthday (which I had) and bid me goodnight as she closed the bedroom door. After a couple of moments I got up and went to the closet. I reached in and pulled out the onesie and the matching shorts Mrs Goodall had made and put them on. I struggled in what little light there was to fasten the snaps between my legs but once they were closed my protection felt tight and safe pulled up against my crotch. I fed the shorts up and over the bulky material and crawled back into bed in fleecy luxury. My thoughts then went to my family and how well my twelfth birthday had gone and how brilliant they’d all been. Then I thought of auntie and how she could still surprise me with her kind-heartedness. Over the last couple of weeks she’d supplied me with so many wonderful things and, with the long trousers; she’d once again made me happy… and given me a target. I snuggled down under my blankets and felt fantastic. I was clean and cosy but before I fell asleep completely, I pushed my hand beneath the shorts and stroked the fleecy front of my slippery bulge and had to admit it was the best feeling ever. # Sunday morning I awoke having slept the best in a long time. My dreams had been fun; at one point Joe, Geoff and I were in the same football team and we all scored, which was something strange for me as I didn’t play for any team. My two brothers are both excellent players and in their school’s first team line-up. How I managed to get involved I’ve no idea but nonetheless I also scored. I was wearing a nappy (and I believe so did Geoff) but we still won with everyone cheering our success. Even with my nappy obviously visible as I ran around the field making some excellent tackles and passes of the ball, no one said anything. It gave me a feeling of belonging, which I don’t think I always felt. I also woke up and didn’t feel wet, which was another plus, so I wandered down to breakfast wearing what I’d slept in. Mum and dad were at the table but neither of the other two had yet surfaced. “Morning sweetheart.” Mum smiled, whilst dad smiled and nodded. I half expected the usual question of “Are you wet?” but it never came up. I suppose now I was twelve I should know when I’m wet and able to change myself if warranted. Mum asked if I wanted a cooked breakfast but I was still relatively full from the meal the previous evening so settled for a slice of toast and a cup of tea. I felt quite at ease with the way I was dressed and wriggled in the thick, padded comfort between me and the chair. I even quite liked the soft rustling of the plastic pants as I made myself even snugger. # Now I had a pair of long trousers I tried them on again, this time without the padding. Like the rest of my suit there was ample room for growth and I’d need to turn-up the legs when I wore them. I was very pleased I had them but realised that I was happy wearing the shorts version and this understanding sent a shiver through my body. I’d had this feeling before, where wearing shorts and protection made me feel okay, even if I looked the part of a much younger kid. This became even more apparent on Monday when at school because there was now only Graham Greenwood and myself in class who were still in shorts. Graham’s family were Jehovah’s Witnesses, I’m not sure why that made a difference but everyone thought that was the reason he was still in shorts, whilst mine was because of the nappy. It was also at this time that one of the other shorts wearers from another class came up and wanted to be friends. He was of the opinion that we shorts wearers should stick together to avoid any trouble from those who’d pick on us. As we were a small vulnerable group it did seem a good idea. We very rarely got comments from kids our own age but some boys, two, three and four year’s older thought it fun to take the mickey. We weren’t bullied, the school would never stand for such a thing, but the occasional baby talk and suggestions to ‘go back to primary school’ did surface. We didn’t have a ‘gang’ name as such but at break times we did tend to stick close together so any name calling wasn’t aimed at one boy. Daley was a tall boy and looked frankly ridiculous in shorts but his mum had said that whilst his shorts still fitted and were in good order, she wasn’t made of money so refused to buy him anything else. However, Daley was also good at football so was used to wearing his sports kit and it seemed very little bothered him. I asked him fairly early on how he coped with wearing shorts and being so tall where he’d obviously stand out in a crowd. He said that there was just him and his mum and he wouldn’t do anything that he knew his mum couldn’t control. Money was thin on the ground but she’d been so proud of him gaining admission to the school, he wouldn’t say or do anything that might upset her. They were a tight family… just the two of them. # I was asked by the group about my nappy-wearing so told them when it started but that I had no idea why. However, I confessed that most mornings since it had started I woke up soaked and because of the ‘accident’ in class, the headmaster insisted I wear protection whilst on school property. That is, until I could prove I don’t need them… and that was proving quite difficult. I’d had a few minor accidents at school but nothing that would have drawn the attention of matron or the teachers, I’d happily let my damp nappy and plastic pants take the strain. However, at home, night time things had gotten worse and waking up in very wet protection had become the norm. But now it was up to me to sort myself out, so I wasn’t bothering anyone else with my problem. I’d happily change myself and put the stuff on to soak and wash. The garden may well have been festooned with my drying white fabric nappies and fluttering plastic pants but despite wet mornings I felt I was in some kind of control. There seemed some sympathy for my plight but in general, as my bulky bottom and smoothly shaped crotch only occasionally became the centre of attention, it was forgotten about by the troop of shorts wearers. Money was the real reason the few of us were still in shorts. Our families simply didn’t have the funds for new clothes until what we had was worn out… and even then it might not happen. With my shorts still riding up over my thighs the plastic pants were regularly seen by everyone and although there were a few giggles and comments, most people had got past caring. I hadn’t told any of my friends about Barnaby Blue just in case they thought I was childish, although I was quite happy when I got home, and after all my homework was finished, to read another fascinating chapter about this nine year old’s powers of deduction. As the weeks transpired I was getting pretty good grades, nothing that would put me into the dizzying world of the clever Aziz, but enough for mum and dad to feel proud of me again. They may not have said that they weren’t proud of me but I could tell that although they believed a change of school was to stop me feeling pressure, they were a little disappointed I hadn’t adapted to senior academic life very well. However, they now saw that despite still wetting at night, the nappy I had to wear was no barrier to me getting on so it had become less of an issue to them and my brothers. #tbc#

After all of the excitement of the recent past Nick and Sarah are grateful to have a period of calm. However, that period cannot last forever and soon real life comes crashing in. New dramas are on the horizon. Author's note: The writer does not agree or condone any of the views held by a certain character within this story. --- This story update, like every update, has been available on Patreon for the last week. I write a 2000+ word update every four days for Patreon and for just $5 you can get early access to all my stories. For $10 you get early access plus exclusive access to around a dozen exclusive stories! There are more tiers and rewards available on Patreon including free and discounted commissions, access to a discord server, story illustrations and more. https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 I want to take the opportunity to give a HUGE thank you to my patrons who support me and allow me to write as much as I do: DannyDazzler, Joe, Jerry J, Andy O, Miss Amy W, Dr J, Paul F, C Dom, Trish C, John D, Archibald B, Bojack D, PF, John, Georgia C, Blipp, Duncan G, Jake W, Daniel, Jeffrey G, P, Joe, Tabbi, Anon, Kent J, Nick C, Brandon G, Jason S, P74_1986, Pat M, LuvsSissy, DreaR, Alex B, Malcolm E, Pete W, Tim, Cless, Frank S, Scott S, John D, Pierre-David G, M, Joshua M, NunyoBC, Txdiapered, Kim, Chris, Dorian G, Ceneroz, S Miller, Carlota C, Kaiser S, Britnee L, Tim F, Chris B, WillNotWill, Orion F, Tom H, Sterling W, Ryan, Jens B, Matthew S, Pierry L, James K, Lin J, Plus M, Jason T, Fernando L, ReiofLight, Orange, Joe V, Calcal, Daniel O, Anne Mette B-H, Kirk H, Mikkel L, Eric D, Bruce D, Tim, Alice W, Sophie S, SB1275, John Z, BuffaloBill, Findlay, Rob, Bob S, Nathan, Timothy A W, Erik P, DiaperingDaddy, Ben R, Ben F, Steven H --- The next few days were very nice in Nick and Sarah’s home. A kind of peaceful happiness had fallen over them both and Nick was very much relieved that Sarah seemed to have calmed down, he didn’t know what had happened between Sarah and Kirsty but it had clearly had a positive impact. He wanted to ask but knew better than to pry into his mummy’s secrets. Nick’s baby position didn’t improve but he wasn’t sure he really wanted it to. Despite everything he had found a quiet acceptance of his position, his nappies were a security blanket for him and it was always nice getting them changed. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to be an adult anymore, all the messages of how bad he had been at it made him think this might be the proper position for him. Sarah seemed like a different woman. She felt bad about how much the power she had over her husband had gone to her head and was determined to make up for it as much as she could. There was no humiliation on the cards, they just spent a few days at home relaxing together. She didn’t know what their long term relationship would look like but she thought both of them were in need of a break after everything that had happened recently. It was after three days of this happy quiet life that real life came knocking. Sarah was watching television with her husband when her phone suddenly vibrated, she picked it up without really looking at the screen to see a text. Sarah gasped and suddenly sat bolt upright. “What’s the matter, mummy?” Nick asked as he spun his head around. Nick was in just a nappy that was partially wet and a plain white t-shirt. He had been sitting quietly and obediently, there was a lot less reason to fight or rebel when you were happy with how things were. He wanted to know what had suddenly breached their little idyllic situation. “It’s… It’s nothing. Just work.” Sarah stuttered, “Just give me a minute, OK?” Nick wasn’t too convinced but he sat back as his wife stood up and left the room. He couldn’t help but think something was going on but he didn’t want to question Sarah. Sure Sarah was no longer the tyrant she had occasionally been before the trip to Kirsty’s but she was still Nick’s mummy and in control of things. Sarah hadn’t even read the message. She had only seen who sent the message but it was enough to bring a flood of emotions down on her. She walked out to the kitchen and swiped on the text message to give it a read. “Hey, what’s up? Haven’t heard from you in a while.” Jack had written, “Not since that night! I was thinking maybe you want to come over again? I’m free tonight if you can find a babysitter for Nick.” Sarah’s mind flashed back to that night with Jack. She remembered the meal, heading back to his house and then a long night of sex. She remembered the text she had sent to husband, the picture that now brought her nothing but shame. How could she reply to a text from Jack now? He seemed to think they were a thing now. To Sarah it was just a regret she wanted to forget. With everything that had happened since that night she had completely forgotten to talk to Jack. Sarah thought up a dozen different replies but didn’t type any of them down. She held her hand to her forehead and tried to get her brain to think of something to send, a way to make everything that had happened alright. Most importantly of all Sarah needed to communicate that there was no way there would be a repeat of a night she now saw as a terrible mistake. She didn’t want to hurt Jack though, despite everything he had always been a nice guy and she had always known he was interested in her. Jack was also Sarah’s supervisor at work and the last thing she wanted to do was lose her well-paying job. Sarah covered her eyes as she regretted that one night of pleasure. She had to find a way of making everything normal again. “Is everything alright?” Nick’s voice suddenly came from the doorway. “Yes!” Sarah quickly said with a big smile, “Everything’s fine.” Sarah slipped the phone back into her pocket. Maybe she could message Jack back later, maybe not responding was the best option for now, some time without contact might lessen the bitter pill that would follow when she told him their one night stand was not going to be anything more. “Are you sure?” Nick asked, “Who texted you?” “I don’t think who texts mommy is any of your concern.” Sarah said with raised eyebrows, “Now, how’s that nappy? Need a change?” “No, mommy.” Nick quickly replied. He was a little wet but the nappy could take much more before it needed changing. “Then get back in there and watch the television.” Sarah said, “I’ll get us both some drinks.” Nick did as he was told and returned to the couch. He didn’t have to wait long for Sarah to come in and he was handed a baby’s bottle full of milk, he eagerly drank it. He could tell Sarah still had something occupying her mind though and as he cuddled up to her he could almost feel the tension in her body. “Look, it was Jack texting me…” Sarah eventually said when she couldn’t contain it any longer. “Oh.” Nick said rather dispiritedly. Just like Sarah he had a lot of bad memories from that night. “I’m not going to do anything.” Sarah quickly added, “We’ve been through that whole episode and I promise I will never repeat my mistake. He doesn’t know that though…” “You better tell him that nothing is going to happen then.” Nick replied rather indignantly. “It’s not that simple.” Sarah said as she pulled out her phone and placed it on the table, “He could get me fired and he’s such a nice guy, I don’t want to hurt him because of my mistake.” “Mummy!” Nick was frowning now and looked very annoyed, “I don’t care how nice he is! Tell him nothing’s going to happen!” “You’re right.” Sarah said with a sigh. She reached over and rubbed Nick’s face, “What would I do without you?” Nick wanted to be annoyed but he found it very difficult to remain angry at Sarah. He sighed and leaned against his wife again, he heard her tapping away on her phone. It was difficult to fully trust her but he knew it was better to do that then try to look over her shoulder. “Hi Jack…” Sarah typed before a small pause, “Look, I’m sorry but I have to tell you that nothing will come from that night. I know you like me and everything but I love Nick and I won’t hurt him again. I’m sorry and hope we can remain friends.” Sarah took a breath and hit send. She placed the phone in her pocket and felt extremely nervous. As the couple sat together and watched television she kept wondering what Jack would say. She really hoped he would be alright, he was a sensitive person and she meant what she had said, she didn’t want to hurt Jack when it was her that made the mistake. “Do you want to play a game?” Sarah asked after another few minutes in front of the television. “I’m actually kind of tired.” Nick replied. His eyes had been hanging half-closed for a little bit. “Oh yes!” Sarah checked the clock on the wall, “You’re late for your nap!” Sarah and Nick stood up together and the adult baby was led upstairs. His nappy was significantly wetter than it had been the last time he was checked, he couldn’t remember wetting it but the padding was undeniably heavier. Just as Nick clambered up to the nursery changing table the sound of a text alert came from Sarah’s pocket. He turned and sat down on his squishy padding as Sarah pulled out the phone and swiped to read the text from Jack. Sarah had been expecting Jack to upset or accepting. She would’ve expected pleading, whining or a thousand other types of responses but she didn’t expect what she saw on her screen. “?” That was the whole text message, a single question mark as if what she had typed had been ambiguous. Sarah closed it and reopened it thinking it hadn’t loaded properly but nothing changed. A single question mark sat on the screen. Sarah put her phone back in her pocket and instructed her husband to lay down. She tried to forget about the messages as she pulled the tapes off the front of Nick’s diaper. The padding was quite wet but it wasn’t all that bad, it could probably have lasted through the nap but there was no point risking things. Nick felt his diaper get pulled away as he looked up at the ceiling. He knew he shouldn’t worry about his wife but he couldn’t help but be anxious about what she was texting Jack. It was hard to recover trust when it had been so broken even though he really wanted to trust Sarah again, it would come in time. Nick lifted up when Sarah tugged on his diaper and then a new one was placed underneath him. He felt the front get pulled up and taped closed before he hopped off the table again. He pulled off the few pieces of clothes he was still wearing and clambered into his crib without a fuss. “I’ll come back to wake you up in an hour or so.” Sarah said as she raised the bars of the crib and locked her husband in. “I love you, mommy.” Nick said as Sarah started to leave. “I love you too.” Sarah replied. Sarah closed the nursery door just as her phone vibrated again. She pulled it out to see yet another text from Jack. “What the fuck?” Jack had typed. Sarah was rather put out by how rude the message was but she made sure to reply calmly. It was only natural that he would be upset after what happened. “You’re a great guy.” Sarah typed, “But you aren’t my guy. I really don’t want this to sour things between us.” Sarah pressed send and had received another reply before she had even reached the bottom of the stairs. She was starting to feel uncomfortable, Jack rarely swore and was always extra professional around her despite his feelings, this was a side she hadn’t seen before and it was very ugly. “So you’re just a slut?” Jack had sent, “Just another bitch who will use me when it’s convenient and then tell me to piss off?” Sarah could feel her temper rising now and she couldn’t help but gasp as she read the message he had sent her. This was beyond anger that he had every right to feel, this was pure rage that left Sarah feeling a little scared. She had never meant to lead him on or use him, she certainly didn’t mean to make him angry like this. “I know you are angry but this is very inappropriate of you.” Sarah wrote as diplomatically as possible, “I suggest we take a break and let some time heal wounds before this escalates.” Sarah barely had time to put her phone away before she received yet another message. She took a deep breath as she held her phone up again. She hoped Jack would see that his anger was over the top as she swiped up and read the message. “Fuck you.” Jack had written simply. Sarah didn’t want to resort to name calling so she turned her phone off and laid it on the table in front of her. She slowly breathed out and closed her eyes to relax herself. She laid back on the couch and put her feet up on the other end, before she knew it she had fallen asleep. It felt like just a minute had passed before Sarah opened her eyes again. She was strangely disorientated as she slowly woke and sat up. She looked at the clock on the far side of the room to see that two and a half hours had passed. She wiped she sleep from her eyes and slowly remembered the things that had happened shortly before her impromptu nap. Turning her phone back on revealed a dozen messages. She rubbed her eyes again as she saw they were all from the same person. Jack had been writing to her steadily throughout the last few hours. “I’m talking to you! Don’t ignore me!” “You’re just like all the other women.” “Your little cuck of a husband is man enough for you now?” “Are you saying I’m less of a man than him?” “Ugh… I can’t believe you’re just ignoring my messages now.” “Look, I’m sorry for what I said… Would you just call me?” “Fine, bitch. Don’t forget who your boss is.” “I don’t mean that… You’re a great teacher and a great person. Please just talk to me.” “I just don’t understand how you could choose Nick over me.” “I bet you’ll cry rape now. I know what women like you are like.” “God, I just really want you. You know that, ever since I first met you. Can we please talk? Maybe we can work something out?” “TALK TO ME!” If Sarah wasn’t awake before she certainly was now. She didn’t even begin to know how to feel. The rapid changes in mood and aggressiveness of what Jack wrote was both disgusting and scary. Sarah was shocked that her friend, former friend at least, had this in him. He was coming across as genuinely scary, like a crazy man. As if knowing Sarah had just woken up the phone vibrated again. Sarah already knew who it would be from and was unsurprised to see Jack’s name on the screen. “I’m really sorry for everything I’ve sent you. I let my emotions beat me and I regret that sincerely, I will stop messaging you and everything. I hope we can one day go back to what we were before all this.” Jack had sent. Sarah let out a long and deep breath. She climbed the stairs and found Nick waiting for her in his crib, he was very happy to see her since his nap had been significantly longer than planned. He had simply and obediently sat on his bed and waited for his wife. Sarah smiled as she lowered the railings and released Nick from his captivity. “Is everything OK?” Nick asked Sarah as he stretched. His diaper, a little damp, hung around his waist. “Yeah.” Sarah said as she hugged her infantilised husband, “Everything is fine.” True to his word Jack didn’t text Sarah again. The rest of that day was peaceful, the next day was the same and after a week without any messages from Jack Sarah started to relax. It seemed he had really just been emotional and now things were back to normal. As both Nick and Sarah sat in the living room on the Saturday morning there was a sudden knock on the door. Sarah stood up and walked to the window, she looked out at the front door and felt her breath catch in her chest.

After being bowel IC into my Uni years, it took me a long time to get over the mental block of pooping into my nappy again. That mental block gets less and less each time I do it, and I'm starting to regularly do it now. This was evidenced by today's poop. This morning, I''d not thought about whether I had any indicators that I'd have to do a poo (my BM's are really irregular). I had my sister and her hubby over this weekend, and this afternoon my sis was talking to me about stuff, when I got an urge to do a BM. I didn't want to do it in front of her, so I held it, just, but it was _really_ painful. About 20 minutes later, they said their goodbyes, and left for home. Ten minutes later, I was wracked by more bowel cramps and stood up from my desk. As I walked it came out, slowly, but more and more powerfully. It ended up being the biggest poop I'd ever done in a nappy, the amount which I was a bit shocked by. It ended up being so easy to do in the end, as I pushed the last of it out and the pain in my tummy was gone too. Just before I changed, it had seeped its way up to a few inches below the top of the padding on the front of the Betterdry I was wearing. Very, very weird sensations. As I do let go more and more, it all becomes too easy to not clamp up and try holding it in. As I'm not holding it in, I'm noticing my constipation disappearing. Is that a thing?

Thirty. I had been running for hours. Had there always this many stairs? The impending weight nipped at my feet, dragging me, pulling me. I kicked it away and climbed forward on my hands and knees. Then I finally reached the landing. Sweat dripped down my chin. I gasped for air. But I couldn’t stay here. I had to keep moving. I stumbled down the hallway as fast as I could go, as each muscle in my body caught fire. My constant struggle against gravity overwhelmed me and I slammed down onto the tile. But I had to get up again, I had to… Mirrors filled the walls, edge to edge, on both sides. Thousands. Endless. No, there had to be an end. There had to be… My heartbeat echoed in my ears. Tears mixed together with the sweat on my cheeks. Everything pulsed. Everything hurt. I couldn’t look at my feet or they would stop moving. I couldn’t look at the ceiling or all the mirrors would put me back at the beginning of the hall. I’d have to start all over again. No, I had to look straight ahead, at the darkness at the end of the infinite hallway. A darkness that never grew and never shrank. A constant, lonely, unending darkness. That was salvation. Face forward. Move. Something flickered in my peripheral vision. I shook my head. It was nothing. It was nothing… A light danced on the other side. The aching panic rose up in me, filling my stomach, cutting up my throat. Almost there. Almost there. Words I’d said for hours… My knees buckled and my forehead hit the hard tile. Everything started to spin. Blood pooled in the front of my head. But if I stopped now… I fumbled to my feet, disoriented, and ran straight into the wall. The wall? No—! I saw her in the mirror. Me. And then we switched places. She stood in the hall of mirrors and I was in the mirror itself. I pounded my fists against the glass. Break! Fucking break! The girl on the other side, the new me, smiled in at my prison. That same sick, condescending smile. I smashed my fists against the mirror. I swung at it with open palms. I dragged my nails across its surface. Nothing even made a sound. “Stay put.” Mom held me back. Tears poured down my cheeks like an early April rainfall. I didn’t understand. I didn’t know why he was leaving me. I struggled so hard to break out of my mother’s arms. I thrashed and kicked. I fell to the cement sidewalk. I fought to get up again. But I couldn’t get away from her. Until finally, he leaned down. His breath against my eyes was crisp and harsh, but no more than his words. Two words. “Jamie?” I snapped awake. I was breathing so heavily, but I wasn’t getting any air. My face was cloaked in a thin sheen of sweat and my hair stuck to my skin. Madison’s arm wrapped around me and she pushed her face into my neck. “Bad dream?” she asked. Exhaustion and sound sleep permeated her questions. I nodded my head, because my throat was too hot and sore to make words. Everything spun in the worst way, but I just knew throwing up would tear me apart. I’d dissolve from the inside. “Mm. Nothing to be scared of,” she said into my ear. And before drifting off to sleep again, she told me: “I’m not going anywhere.” I couldn’t remember if that was a night Madison Bell had been dressed little for bedtime or if that was a night Madison Bell hadn’t been dressed at all. Both were likely and both were her. But after I’d fallen back asleep, when my dream picked up where it had left off, when I had to return to my sentence alone in that mirror, Madison Bell was wearing a plain white dress. I’d been there for years, crying against the glass. Silently screaming. Pounding and hurting and freezing. In the mirror, everything was so cold. Everywhere, there was no sound. But when Madison came, she brought the sound with her. She brought warmth back to my skin. But she was not a flame licking the underside of a marshmallow. She didn’t burn or bubble. She thawed. “Why are you crying?” she asked me. “He left me,” I told her, in a voice I very quickly realized was not that of the Jamie Lawson that Madison knew. It was that of the young girl abandoned by her father. “He left for another mom, another me… a better me. And now I’m all alone.” “But I’m here, aren’t I?” Madison asked, for she wasn’t on the other side of the mirror. She was on this side of it. With me. “Why are you here?” I looked up at her with watering eyes and blubbering lips. “I gotta stay here,” I told her. “I gotta wait ‘cause if I go wander out there in the dark I might not find my way back.” “Well,” Madison began, with a smile on her lips. A familiar, warm, radiant smile and beautiful, sparkling, swirling eyes. “Do you know what I think you should do?” “Stay put?” I guessed. She shook her head and took my hand. She felt like I always wanted to feel. She felt like the rest of my life, as much as anybody ever had. “Come with me,” Madison Bell told me. And I did. [End] ------------- Thank you for reading! This story means a lot to me, and it has been such a positive experience sharing it with you all. To all the people who commented, who Liked, who joined just to give their two cents, you have somehow made a very special story even more special. Madison's Code in its entirety can be downloaded FOR FREE in PDF and ePub format from our Patreon. Please consider supporting us. Thank you so much for everything! ~Sophie