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So, this is a fun little BDSM-ish romp I did about a year and a half ago. It's actually fairly light on diaper content, so if that was your primary purpose for reading, I'm afraid you'll be disappointed by the end of this little 5k short. The story's plot line isn't particularly original, but it is a bit of a fable, as it exhorts us all to make sure we read... The Fine Print Amanda was the very definition of a slacker. When she started puberty at the tender age of 10, she discovered that the very boys who used to make fun of her clothes and call her “icky” now would do virtually anything she asked in exchange for a bit of attention, a bat of the eyes, occasionally a kiss on the cheek. She reveled in the attention she got, though at the time she didn't really understand why. Her body shape was nearly perfect, her face so symmetrical and proportioned one might have thought she was sculpted out of clay rather than born. Her sunny blonde hair had just the right amount of natural curl; she needed only wash, condition, and run a brush through it and it would lay perfectly across her shoulders. Even though she all but stopped getting taller at the five foot mark, all the boys wanted little Amanda. Except little Amanda didn't want boys. She was 15 when she discovered this little fact. At a cheer camp, on a dare, she made out with Maria Sanchez. Everyone in the room was laughing and joking and catcalling as they watched, but inside Amanda, sparks flew like they'd never flown before. At home, though, it was made clear that bringing girls home would get her homeless. That brought it all into focus for her. It wasn't about love, it was about power. Daddy held the purse strings; he had all the power. So she had to find her own power, and in high school, all her power was between her legs. Boys were her tool, a tool to keep her father happy, a tool to get she wanted. And she used and abused those stupid, horny tools. She'd kiss a boy, closing her eyes and imagining Maria when she did. But when she ruined and discarded them, breaking their little hearts before they could reach the big prize, it was Daddy she saw in those tragic faces, powerless and pathetic, with no purse strings to pull. Still, she graduated with honors, and her parents bought her a car and gave her an allowance that would continue so long as she was attending college. And she abused that as well; taking 6 credit hours a semester at community so she'd have plenty of free time to continue exacting her revenge on the male species while she waited for the chance to meet her own knight in shining armor, the one that would save her from this hell of denying who she was and what she wanted and needed. After her 21st birthday, Amanda started sneaking off to lesbian clubs in the big city, away from the prying eyes in this little religious fishbowl of a town. And she'd party, and she'd drink whatever the butch girls bought for her, teasing them the way she teased the boys in school, except she'd let them take her home and fuck her, which was every bit as glorious as she imagined it would be that fateful day at cheer camp. Only another woman could know exactly where all her little buttons were that gave her pleasure. But in the morning, if she didn't wake up in a palace, she was gone. Her fifth year at Community complete, still without even an Associate's degree for all the different classes she had taken in so many different fields, Amanda was looking forward to another summer of partying, debauchery, and deflecting her parents' probing questions about where she'd been for three, four, six days at a time. At yet another new lesbian club, drinking and dancing and flirting on yet another someone else's tab, someone very, very interesting caught her eye. The woman that strode through that door was dressed to the hilt in designer clothes, and she had a supreme air of confidence in her step. From the stark white Louis Vuitton skirt and top to the flaming red Gucci handbag, everything about this woman screamed “money” and “class”. And Amanda had to have her. This was her knight, the one that would save her from her evil dragon parents and whisk her away to a modern castle in the hills. She had to be coy, though. This woman was sophisticated, worldly, savvy. If she came on too strong, she'd give herself away. No, she had to keep doing what she always did, just do it closer to this woman's table. She can't want what she doesn't see, right? Unbeknownst to Amanda, Monique Freitag had already seen her. She saw Amanda when she walked into the club. But she had seen her before, at other clubs, where she was content to observe from her VIP suite rather than mingle. Monique had been watching this flighty little thing for a long, long time. She knew what Amanda was about. Amanda wanted to be someone's arm candy. Monique had other plans for this woman-child, however. Tonight, she'd let the little moth flit around her, though. She found a table far enough from the dance floor where talking was at least not an exercise in sustaining maximum lung power and settled in to watch the little moth come and try to impress her with her teenage antics. And Amanda tried. What a show she put on to try and get Monique to notice her! Every move the girl made near Monique's table was an obvious effort to show off her tight little ass, from the “shake it” duck waddle to the hand-clap-and-bend-over laugh as she mingled with her little friends in the vicinity to the reach-around-the-booth-back-to-shake-a-hand-and-show-my-tits maneuver, it was all so obvious. Monique just coolly sipped on her martini and enjoyed the show. Amanda, on the other hand, was getting rapidly frustrated. No one had ever made her work this hard to get a little attention. What was with this chick? Did Amanda have her read wrong? Was she not a butch type? Because she sure carried herself like a top, not a bottom. Either way, she should have picked up on the hints by now. Either that or she was so self-absorbed she just didn't care. Did she already have a girlfriend? Was she just waiting for her to show up? The night dragged on, and Amanda floated back and forth between the dance floor and Monique's table area, alternately watching from afar and trying to throw signals from up close. Last call was fast approaching, and Amanda had no interest in going home alone, especially not having to drive in this state. She had to either make a play or settle for one of her several pursuers. If this chick was taken, Amanda would blow her chance to get laid tonight. But if she walked out that door, this may be the last Amanda ever saw of her. No, she had to try, even if it meant sleeping in her car tonight. Then the unthinkable happened. She turned her eyes back toward that table, and rich chick was nowhere to be found! Nothing but an empty glass and a few bills were left where she'd been perched all night. NO! She'd blown her chance, trying too hard to be... Monique hooked her arm from the other direction, leaning over. “Come with me, little girl,” she commanded. Amanda turned, ready to slap a bitch, then her eyes widened, and she let Monique lead her out of the club, waving to friends as she awkwardly staggered behind Monique's swift movements. The June air outside was thick and hot, but what captured Amanda's attention was the waiting driver of a black sedan with an open door next to him. “Wh... where are we going?!” “You've been trying to get my attention all night, little one. Now you have it. Are you coming home with me, or would you rather go back in there and try your luck with one of your little floozy friends?” This was exactly what Amanda wanted. But it's definitely not the way she was expecting to get it. “I... I don't even know your name!” “Monique Freitag. And you are Amanda McDowell, the progeny of a proud Irish Catholic family out in the suburbs, gone wild ever since you were old enough to legally drink.” “Wait... how the hell do you know that?!” Fear rose up in Amanda, clashing hard with her excitement over being scooped up by a rich and beautiful partner. Monique stopped and turned, staring down at the short blonde. “I know many things about you just from listening, something you don't do very much of, because you're too busy trying to get what you want. I know exactly what you want, and I'm offering you exactly one chance to get it from me. Now, are you going to get in the car, or are you going back in the club?” Force was something every girl like this understood, and force was something Monique used to her advantage in every encounter. Half of winning a negotiation was being stronger, more forceful than your opponent at exactly the right moment. “I... okay... um... let's go...” Monique was saying horrible things about her, but the idea of passing on an opportunity was too much for Amanda to resist. She figured she was in for a rough night, but then again, she liked it rough once in a while. This might be fun. Terrifying, but fun... “Good choice, Amanda. After you.” In the back of a towncar with a rich, beautiful woman, drinking champagne, Amanda was in her glory. They talked the whole time, well, more accurately, Amanda babbled about the inane details of her daily existence while Monique sat back and nodded, offering an occasional empathetic comment: “Yes, that must be so difficult for you.” “I completely understand.” “Oh, you poor thing, I don't know how you manage.” How utterly oblivious the child was to her condescension was amusing to Monique. When they finally arrived at Monique's suburban compound, it was like all of Amanda's little fantasies coming true at once. Illuminated only by the security spotlights, it was still a stunning piece of architecture, a huge sprawl at the top of a hill, nested right on the treeline of a huge forest. And Amanda wasted no time. The second they were through the front door, her hands were all over Monique's svelt body. She wanted this tall, dark woman to ravage her, and from the very moment Monique grabbed a lock of Amanda's hair and pulled her head back to kiss her fiercely, she knew that was exactly what was going to happen. She got all she bargained for and more that night. By the time the sky began to turn from black to navy, hinting at the coming dawn, Monique had reduced her to a sweaty, quivering puddle of naked humanity in the middle of the California King bed upon which she lay, the implements of Amanda's destruction scattered around her like evidence at a crime scene. But as Amanda gave in to exhaustion and fell asleep, Monique merely grinned and went off to shower. Oh yes, this one would do just fine, with a little training. When next Amanda opened her eyes, it was noon, by the digital clock at the bedside. Monique was sitting on the edge of the bed, crisply dressed in a short-skirted business suit, watching a financial news show on the wall-mounted flat screen in the corner of the room, sipping coffee. The evidence of last night's lovemaking was nowhere to be seen. Amanda's heart soared. It wasn't a dream! Her chance to become a trophy wife was right here in front of her! “Mmmm... morning, my love,” Amanda said softly. “Your love?” Monique raised an eyebrow as she looked down at the stirring little blonde. “You're a fast mover, aren't you?” Still half-asleep and hung over, Amanda's wits were hardly in any shape to manage snappy comebacks, but it didn't stop her from trying. “Only when I meet the woman of my dreams.” She slid over and clumsily tried to stroke Monique's back. “Uh-uh. I have meetings this afternoon, little one.” Was Monique throwing her out?! No, this couldn't be happening! “Was I not good enough? What did I do wrong? I'll try harder, I promise! Just tell me!” “Oh stop, you were more than adequate. Feel free to have coffee, or ask Dmitri to fix you something to eat if you like, and when I get back this evening, we can discuss more permanent arrangements. I rather like you, and I think I'd like to keep you around, pet.” And Amanda was back to the top of the roller coaster again. “Oh Monique! I'd love that! I can hardly wait!” “Yes, I'm sure of it. Go on and have a shower, get yourself cleaned up. I'll have Martina bring you a change of clothes; I'm sure we have something around here that will fit you, tiny as you are. Perhaps tomorrow we'll look into a wardrobe for you, if you decide to stay.” Why wouldn't I?! “Of course, love. Should I...” “Silly child, you throw that word around so casually, don't you?” A bubble of anger rose up in Amanda, but she swallowed it. “I... what do you mean?” Monique reached over and grasped her up under the chin, drawing her face close. She kissed her long and deeply, then held her fast. “Don't worry your pretty little head about it. I will make sure you understand what I say when it is necessary. Be a good girl and go wash up now.” “Oh... okay...” Amanda crawled off the bed and headed into the en-suite, Monique giving her a sharp swat on the bottom on the way by. She had a long, hot shower under the waterfall heads, and when she came back out wrapped in towels, Monique was gone, and where she sat there lay a very cute strapless white dress with a playful floral print, and on top of it lay a note: Amanda, Feel free to give yourself a tour. The east wing is locked down for renovation at the moment, kindly avoid that area. Wouldn't want you getting hurt with all the construction going on. I'll see you very soon, my sweet. Amanda dried herself off and slipped into the dress. It was super comfortable, loose and flowing, and barely reached her mid thigh. Without her padded bra, her sad little A-cup breasts were dwarfed by the sweetheart neckline, but the cut flattered her anyway. She looked and felt very girly in it, and she did a little twirl, her bare bottom flashing briefly as the hem flew up. She blushed and giggled in spite of herself, then flopped back onto the huge bed, soaking in the luxury which surrounded her. If Monique wanted her girly, she'd be a damn Disney princess, if it made her buxom dark-haired mistress happy. Meanwhile, Monique was in the back of her sedan, watching, enjoying the little show. The girl looked like a tweener playing dress-up, which was about appropriate for her maturity level. She'd give Amanda a chance to prove her instinct wrong, though she was certain the girl would fail miserably at the attempt. While Monique met with her high-profile legal client, Amanda explored the mansion, marveling at the expensive appointments detailing each room. Monique had an incredible sense of style; Amanda could tell that much, even if she had no idea of the various periods the décor faithfully reproduced. All she knew was every room seemed like it came from a completely different house, and each was filled with so many little treasures and details. She could get lost in a place like this, and she rather was looking forward to doing exactly that. She found her way to the kitchen and began to explore, her appetite awakening as the fog of the previous evening's drinking lifted. “Shall I fix lunch for Miss?” a booming voice came from behind her, jolting her up from examining the contents of the huge refrigerator. She spun around to see a towering man in a crisp white uniform. “Um... I am kind of hungry.” “I'm afraid I'll need more specifics than that, Miss.” “I don't know, like, a salad or something? I, like, totally suck at cooking and stuff.” “Understood. Shall I send it up to your room?” Her room. She rather liked the sound of that, though she definitely hoped she'd be sharing Monique's bed whenever possible. Oh, the things that woman made her feel. “Oh... um... yeah... I guess.” She wasn't sure if that was a hint by the huge man, but she decided she'd better take it as such and find her way back to her suite. Her suite. Her own little piece of this opulence. And it'd only taken her one delicious night to reel in this prize. She grinned as she opened her door, doing another little twirl before she flopped backward onto the bed. Monique was such a strong, powerful, but so very sexy woman. Amanda would have been willing to sleep with the most butch dyke on the planet to have this, but Monique being gorgeous and mysterious and an amazing lover was so much of a bonus! She could easily imagine herself falling in love with the lady of this manor. Martina brought her salad and a nice glass of white wine to go with it, and Amanda casually munched while watching a reality show about brides shopping for wedding dresses. Little visions danced in her head about being in her own lavish wedding gown, marching down the center aisle of an outdoor wedding filled with the sorts of high-society people Monique probably associated with regularly. Monique would be standing there in a smart but still feminine pantsuit, while all eyes would be fixed on Amanda, and they'd gasp at how stunning she looked. “Well hello there, little pet.” Monique's voice came from the doorway, and Amanda jumped a bit at it. “I didn't expect you back so...” Amanda looked at the clock; three hours had passed in a blink. “I mean... how did your meeting go?” She stood up and attempted a seductive pose as she walked toward the taller woman. “My meeting went as expected.” Monique accepted Amanda's embrace with a smile. “Looks as though the outfit I chose suits you well, little one.” “It's really comfy. I don't really own anything girly like this, but if it turns you on, then...” “Yes, yes, dear, I know how much you need your little itch scratched. But you and I have business to attend. Playtime comes later.” “Wait, business? What business?” Amanda staggered a bit as Monique grasped her arm and led her out into the hallway. “I told you this morning, we would need to discuss the terms of our relationship. Unless you've decided that you'd rather go back to your overbearing parents and your little double life.” “No! I love you, Monique! I want to be with you!” Monique laughed. “There you go again with that 'love', pet.” She led her into the massive library Amanda had briefly glimpsed before, and waved her to a chair in front of the huge desk. Monique seated herself in the massive leather executive chair behind. Amanda sat down and looked at a stack of paper, the top sheet of which was titled, “In consideration of this cohabitation agreement...” “A contract?” Amanda asked, confused. “Yes, yes, dear, we can't go around not knowing what is expected of us, can we?” Most of the page was weird legalese, but one section caught Amanda's eye: “Amenities for Ms. McDowell” Her eyes widened. There were various allowances for clothing, food, and entertainment, and use of a Mercedes, and her own personal assistant, and... her head swam at the possibilities. “Yes yes, dear, this is my offer to you for our living arrangements. It's just a list of what you can expect to get and what I expect of you in return. If you'd be so kind as to sign off on each page right there at the bottom.” Monique knew the girl was far too ignorant to understand the legal minutiae that filled the ten pages, which is why she made sure the benefits were obvious and on page 1, and the consequences were buried on pages 9 and 10. “Oh, Monique, you're so kind and generous!” Amanda stopped reading at “Mercedes” and was already inking her name. She rifled her way through the pages, barely lifting them enough to plant her signature, never mind reading the crucial titles. A fancy car, an allowance, and her own gopher? Monique could do whatever she wanted to Amanda for that! “Yes, I suppose I am. I propose we celebrate this little negotiation over dinner, and later you can fulfill some of your obligations as my concubine. How does that sound?” “Mmmm, I'd rather fulfill my obligations now,” Amanda purred. “Oh of course, you are insatiable, aren't you? Unfortunately, per the terms of the contract you just signed, I'm the one who decides when we have sexual interactions, and I've already made us reservations at La Plaza. So you're just going to have to contain your urges, darling.” La Plaza?! The most exclusive restaurant in the city? And she got reservations on the spur of the moment? “Oh my god, yes!” Amanda looked down at herself. “But... is this appropriate? I mean...” “Yes, pet, you look fine. We haven't time to dawdle, though, or we'll be caught in evening traffic.” “But... my bra... and panties... I don't even have any shoes to wear to match this!” “I took the liberty of checking your sizing this morning while you slept. I procured appropriate footwear and delicates for you while I was out, darling. They're in the car waiting for us outside.” Monique stood up. “Shall we, then?” “Oh... well sure...” Amanda followed Monique out to the drive, and there was the same black sedan that brought her here yesterday. At once, the driver popped out and opened the rear door for the two women, Monique striding confidently while Amanda awkwardly stumbled, her tender toes complaining with each step on the hard payment. “My goodness, should I carry you next time?” Monique laughed as she stood aside and ushered Amanda into the car first. As she got in, Amanda spotted a white bag from one of the high-dollar department stores in the downtown area. Her eyes got big. “Oh you shouldn't have!” She clasped her hands and turned to Monique with a huge grin. “Yes, yes, well, go ahead and get yourself sorted out.” Amanda went straight for the shoebox. In it were a pair of wedge sandals, but... Amanda knew she had small feet, but these were little girl sandals! The white latchet across the toes was punched with little flower stamps and trimmed with eyelets. These were footwear for a third-grader! She looked up at Monique, confused. “Sorry, dear, they had nothing in a white sandal in a size 4, so I had to go to the girls' section. It was either that or a garish floral print sneaker. I chose the lesser of two evils.” “Oh, okay.” She reached back into the bag and pulled a pair of panties on a hanger. White boy shorts. With a daisy right in the crotch. Ew. When she was ten, boy shorts were her mother's idea of a compromise when she asked for bikini briefs instead of the high-waist full briefs she'd been made to wear since she was toilet-trained. The first things she bought with her graduation gift money were a bunch of sexy thongs from Victoria's Secret, and she religiously handwashed them and kept them well out of sight from her mother's prying eyes. “I was in a hurry, and they were the first thing I spotted that I knew would be invisible under your dress. Sorry they're not as revealing as you prefer.” Monique's stiff response made it clear she was running out of patience. “I'm sorry, Monique. Thank you for taking the trouble to go shopping for me.” The apology felt like the ones she was made to give her grandmother when she knitted her some hideous wool sweater for Christmas. Amanda grimaced as she slipped the spandex garment up her legs and pulled it into position. She felt like an old maid in granny panties. Or a little kid. Yeah, definitely a little kid. She buckled on the sandals and felt the heat of a blush rise up in her cheeks. “Amanda.” She looked back up at Monique. There was distinct displeasure on her face. “Do you know why I am one of the richest, most powerful people in this city?” “N...no...” “Because I am confident. And that confidence is not derived from the clothes I wear, or my makeup, or anything else external. I am confident in myself. I would be as confident walking down the street in my birthday suit as I am in this pantsuit. Do you understand what I'm saying?” “Y... yes... I think so...” “Self-consciousness makes you small and weak, like a child in need of a caretaker. Is that what you are, Amanda?” “No!” Amanda was much more emphatic. “Then stop behaving like one. Be confident in you, dear, not what you're wearing. I expect you to stride into that restaurant at my side, proud of who you are, not meek and ashamed because you think your clothes make you look immature. You make you look immature when you blush and fidget like a tweener on her way to her first day at middle school. Am I making myself clear?” “Yes, perfectly!” It was clear alright, but it didn't help any. If anything, Monique's fierce scolding made Amanda feel even more self-conscious. Amanda's confidence had always come from how she looked. Before she had boobs, she'd been a timid, scared little girl. And that's exactly how she felt now, in the shadow of this powerful, fearless woman. Monique, meanwhile, could read it all over Amanda's face. Failure was part of this child's DNA, and repeatedly setting her up to fail was going to be a delicious side dish in this relationship. And Amanda failed. Oh, did she fail. She didn't just fail at Monique's command that night in the restaurant, she failed over and over again. She failed to get up the next morning for Monique to introduce her to her personal assistant, Veronica, who instead waited four hours for Amanda to drag herself out of bed. She failed to heed her assistant's warning that she had gone well beyond her allotted clothing budget as she raced from store to store building the wardrobe of her dreams, and blew off the appointment made for her with a personal trainer. Over and over she failed over the next two weeks, violating the contract she signed repeatedly and with impunity, blissfully and willfully ignorant of the consequences she was piling up. And Monique, in all her subtlety, merely featured more and more discipline in their nightly sessions. The floggings and the paddlings and the progressively rougher sex, though, put Amanda in an even higher state of ecstasy than she ever imagined possible. Monique never once tipped her hand, never gave Amanda a clue how deep she was getting. The final straw came when Monique had to fly to Hong Kong for an important sales meeting. Amanda wanted to blow off some steam, not to mention show off her fabulous new status as a member of the city's wealthy elite, so of course she headed straight for a lesbian club. And she partied like she'd never partied before, soaking up all the attention she could get, flirting and dancing and drinking the night away... Except she didn't make it home that night. She got pulled over driving the wrong way down a one-way street, and was promptly arrested for DUI and destruction of property after the damage to the passenger's side of her Mercedes matched up with numerous parked cars that she sideswiped in her wake. Her one phone call was a desperate plea to Monique for help. And Monique did indeed clean her mess up for her; enlisting a company attorney to represent her, wiring bail money, and most importantly, arranging behind the scenes a requirement for house arrest with an ankle monitor. Amanda was crestfallen; she'd be stuck in the house until her trial date? Fortunately, her lawyer managed a plea arrangement that got the ankle bracelet off, but Amanda had much bigger problems four days later when Monique returned home in the late evening. Monique spoke not a word to her when she arrived, retreating into the library and locking the door in Amanda's apologetic face. It was Martina who suggested the girl stay out of the way until Monique called for her; trying to get her attention now would only agitate the woman even more. Monique didn't call for her that night. Amanda sat in her room, terrified that Monique would put her out of the house, call off the relationship, banish the princess back to the dragons' cave. Martina came to Amanda's room around 9 pm and encouraged the anxious girl to take a sleeping pill, per Monique's instruction. Amanda was too afraid to disobey now, so she did. By 9:30, she was so groggy, all she could do was strip off her jeans and crawl under the covers. It seemed like only a minute or two later that she was being shook violently. “Wake up, Amanda! Quickly! Monique is waiting for you!” Amanda forced her eyes open as dread filled her. The sun blared through her window, and she dragged herself out of the bed, reaching for the jeans she discarded. “No time for that!” Veronica snapped. “She wants you in the library NOW!” Confused and now blushing in her halter top and lace thong, Amanda staggered to keep up with the longer-legged woman. This was how she was to present to her very angry lover for what was apparently a formal meeting? Maybe Monique might forget how angry she was over the car when she saw Amanda looking all cute? That could work! Well, it could if it weren't for the fact that her halter was a wrinkled mess and her hair and makeup a disaster. This was just not going to go well at all. Veronica knocked on the library door. “She's here, Miss Freitag.” “Come in, Amanda.” The voice was crisp and even, like it was the first time Monique spoke to her. “Veronica, please join us.” Maybe she wasn't as mad as Amanda thought. Maybe she calmed down. She opened the door gingerly and stepped in. Monique was at her desk, as expected. Amanda walked over and started to sit in the chair. Veronica stood back a few feet, behind Amanda, out of her peripheral view. “I didn't tell you to sit down.” Amanda popped back to her feet and stared at the desk. “Sorry. I thought...” “No you didn't. The only thing you think of is your own pleasure.” “That's not...” “Do not speak again until I invite you to do so.” The tiny girl fell silent. “Let's see here. Miss McDowell agrees to notify Miss Freitag if a need arises that requires her to exceed her monthly spending limits. Nope. Miss McDowell agrees to maintain her level of fitness, and a personal trainer will be provided for her.” Monique looked her up and down. “Pfft. What've you gained, fifteen pounds already, you little piglet?!” Shame burned in Amanda's face as Monique continued. All those lovely desserts Dmitri made her when she was bored during the day were catching up with her. “Miss McDowell agrees to wake up with Miss Freitag and have breakfast with her. Not once. Miss McDowell agrees to behave responsibly with Miss Freitag's vehicle. Ha!” Monique slammed the papers down on the desk. “Were you trying to sabotage our relationship, girl? Was it your goal to just use me until I got tired of you and threw you out on the street?” “No! I... I love you, Monique! I didn't mean to...” “Lying bitch! You love you, little girl. And you love the idea of someone you find attractive taking care of you the rest of your life. That's what you love. If you loved me, you'd have some kind of consideration for what I ask you to do. If you loved me, you'd want to sit up and have coffee with me in the morning before I left for work. If you loved me, you wouldn't have gone out carousing with every dyke at 6th Street then crashing my car on your way home. If you loved me, you'd at least have the goddamned decency to listen to the woman I hired to teach you how to be an adult, to keep your unstructured, self-absorbed little life together for you. You don't know anything about love, you only know about fucking your way through life to get what you want!” Amanda's mouth moved, but no words came. Tears did, though. “I should throw you out on the street in your goddamned skivvies just like you are right now, Amanda. That's exactly what you deserve, isn't it?!” “Y... yes...” “Is that what you want?!” “No!” “Last chance, Amanda McDowell, you want out?!” “No, please, Monique, I'm sorry! I want to be with you! I want to be good to you! I want to learn how to love you!” “Then sit down.” Amanda sat as though someone had pushed her into that chair. “I'm glad to hear you want to learn how to love, because that's exactly what I'm going to teach you. And I'm going to start at the level you clearly are right now.” “Wh... what do you mean?” “Until I say otherwise, you are not to address me as Monique. You will call me Mama, or Mommy, or whatever other colloquial term for mother you choose. You will be disciplined immediately and harshly every time you fail to do so. Understand?” “Yes... Mama...” Amanda's mind blurred. Where was she going with this?! “Veronica, come forward please.” Veronica stepped out from behind Amanda and stood next to the desk facing the sniveling girl. “Until I say otherwise, Veronica is no longer your personal assistant. She is going to be your nanny. And that is what you will call her. Again, you will be disciplined immediately and harshly every time you fail to do so.” “My... Nanny?!” “Yes, and you are to obey her every instruction without question, if you ever want to earn your independence back again. And she has my authority and your implicit permission, per the terms of our original agreement, to discipline you however she sees fit if you resist her. Understand?” “I... wait... discipline... I mean...” “DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!” “Yes Mama!” “Very good. Now, Nanny Veronica, will you please take Mandy here to her new bedroom and get her dressed please? Please present her to me in the kitchen in 30 minutes.” “My pleasure, Miss Freitag.” Veronica stepped over and grabbed Amanda's hand. “Come on, Mandy. Time to pretty ourselves up for Mama!” “See you soon, Mandy! Mama can't wait to see how pretty you are in your new clothes!” That was a sound Amanda had never heard from those lips. It was the cooing sound of a mother speaking to her 3-year-old, and Amanda didn't like it one bit. She liked it even less when Veronica led her into the wing that was supposed to be closed off for renovation, a wing she'd never seen before. And when Veronica pulled her through that door, Amanda began to jerk and pull away. “Oh my god, no fucking way! This is like a scene from one of those creepy diaper fiction stories I saw on Reddit! No fucking way!” Veronica's hand crashing down on her bare bottom rapidly in succession all but confirmed it. “TIME for BABY to GET DRESSED!” Veronica commanded in rhythm with her swats while Amanda yelped and tried to squirm out of her iron grip. “Do I need to get the paddle already, little girl?!” Veronica demanded as Amanda collapsed to the floor, squealing in protest. “No!” Veronica slapped her sharply on the cheek. “Who am I?!” “No... Nanny!” “Then get up off that floor and come get dressed, now!” Twenty minutes later, she stood in the kitchen in front of Monique. Her hair was parted into curly pigtails high on either side of her head, a puffy pink bow nestled between them. Between her flaming red cheeks, covering her pouty lips, was the powder pink mouth guard of a large pacifier. She wore a white cotton blouse with a lacy collar and puffy sleeves, and over it draped a pink corduroy jumper dress with a pocket on the front, and on the pocket was a little white embroidered bunny with a pink bow of its own nestled between its ears. A short, white, lacy tether attached via a suspender button back to the ring on the pacifier. The hem of the jumper barely crossed Amanda's hips, which gave a clear view of the stark, white, comically thick diaper between her legs. A pair of lace-trimmed pink ankle socks and white patent leather Mary Janes completed the ensemble. Monique sized her up. “That will do fine. Be a polite little girl and thank Nanny for helping you get dressed, baby.” “Fank you Nanny for dreshing me.” The sting of that paddle was still very much present on her bottom, and the fear of it motivated her to obedience. “Now come here and sit with Mama, let's have a little talk.” Amanda practically ran to Monique, who opened her arms and pulled the sniffling little blonde right into her lap. Amanda clung to her like her life depended on it. “Aw, did my little Mandy-baby have a tough time getting dressed?” “It was a little challenging for us to learn our new place in the house, but she and I reached an understanding.” Veronica smiled. “Well I'm sorry you weren't happy about your new clothes, Mandy, but you do look very pretty!” “Why 'o I have to wear zhish shuff... Mama?” “Mandy-baby, Mama's giving you exactly what you've always wanted. You wanted to be with someone who would take care of you and love you and give you presents and toys and treats, and all you'd have to do is be your pretty little self in return. And that's exactly what you have now. You're my little baby Manda-bear, and all you have to do is play and have fun and be a good baby, and you'll get treats and hugs and toys and anything else your precious little heart needs or wants.” “But I don' want zhat, Mama!” “Then I suggest you listen carefully to Nanny Veronica, and do everything she asks of you, because that's the only way you're going to prove to Mama that you're ready to be a big girl in our relationship again. Or, you can fuss and whine and cry and fight with Nanny like you did today, and you'll get spankings, and you'll stay just like this for as long as it takes. But Mama will still love you and take care of you if you decide that's what you want. Now, let's get some breakfast in you before Mama has to go to work. Nanny, would you hand me her breakfast please?” Amanda perked up fearfully as Monique popped the pacifier out of her mouth. Veronica strolled to the refrigerator and produced a baby bottle, filled with some sort of thick, tan liquid. “Mama what is that?!” The nipple went straight into her gaping mouth. “Nothing scary, Mandy. We're gonna be on Slim-Fast for a while until we get rid of all that baby fat, that's all. If Mandy plays along with the gym teacher this afternoon, it'll go away faster, and Mama will let her have real food again sooner.” It didn't take Amanda long to lose the weight on that horrible liquid diet. But it took her a lot, lot longer to finally knuckle under to Veronica's demands. For a few months, there was never a moment in her day that her bottom wasn't sore, especially when Mama Monique finally got tired of the noncompliance and started giving Amanda nightly spankings before bedtime when she got poor reports from Nanny. It's been two years now, and little Mandy finally has learned her place. She knows that Nanny is just keeping her safe and clean and dry and happy and pretty for her Mama, even when she puts her in the playpen, or makes her take naps in her crib, or when she takes her to the park to get exercise. She knows that all those people staring at her are just surprised that she's still a baby at her age, but she also knows it's the truth. Deep inside, she hopes Mama will let her be a big girl again, but Nanny says that she has a lot to learn before that happens, and the stuff Nanny tries to teach her is hard, and it makes Mandy cry to think about it. So... being a baby isn't really so bad after all...

If you know what "chikan" is in Japanese, then you know what fun diapered adventure lays ahead. If not, you could always google it, or leave it as a surprise. This story has been available on my Patreon for the last few weeks. Part 2 of this one, an update on Pumpkin Patch, and a new Valentine's Day short story are posted on patreon as well. The entire story is available on my patreon, along with many others (Bad Seed, Beach Baby, along with 4 new stories for first tier members and 6 (2 short stories) for 2nd tier members) https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten Or you can purchase it individually on Kindle (or read it for free on Kindle Unlimited). https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WNHL5L8/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i0 THE CHIKAN by CK Cute Kitten Amber was on her last pullup. For the past few hours out shopping in Shibuya, she’d managed to keep it dry. She was on the train heading home, so she was certain her pink pullup would stay dry. Maybe when she walked in the door and Aunt Lisa checked her pullup, she’d praise her for keeping it dry. Three wet pullups, and their deal was Amber went to diapers full time, just like her cousin. Amber already had two wet pullups this morning. She winced at the thought. Those wet pullups hadn’t been accidents. Now, she felt guilty for intentionally wetting them. Peeing in a pullup was so much easier and preferable to trying to figure out the all the buttons on those fancy Japanese toilets. The last time she’d tried a toilet in public, she’d hit all the buttons and got sprayed in the face by a bidet. Maybe she’d figure it out in time. She’d only been in Japan for a month. There was a lot to get used to; new culture, new language. But it was tougher than she’d been expecting. Her love of anime and three years of Japanese in high school had made her feel confident that she was well prepared for such a big transition in her life. The move from America to Japan was not going as smoothly as she’d anticipated. Her trouble with the toilets was proof of that. The train slid to a smooth stop, but the change in motion still rocked her sideways. People near her pressed in, squishing her while other people slid past as passengers shuffled off the train and more squeezed on, politely pushed in by platform attendants. Her full bladder twinged with each jostle. She clenched her inner thigh muscles together, squeezing the dry padding. She was almost home; she could make it. Next time, she was so not having those extra cappuccinos. The café she’d stopped at was one of those limited time only, specialty pop up cafes Tokyo was famous for. This one had a Sailor Moon theme. How could she say no to that? She’d had to buy- and drink- four coffees to get the exclusive Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask matching mug set, along with the matching Luna the Cat and Artemis the Cat sets. The artwork was exquisite, plus put the mugs side by side and it looked like they were kissing. Amber sighed, thrilled by the romance of her purchase. Her otaku friends back home in America would be so jealous. She couldn’t wait to show them next time she talked to them online. For a moment, she felt a pang of homesickness. But America wasn’t her home anymore; Japan was. Her American friends were now her online friends. She bit her lip at the thought. The train pulled out of the station. Standing passengers swayed to and fro; she clutched the pole she stood next to tighter. Aside from her friends, she didn’t miss home much. She knew she should, but the fact that she didn’t bothered her. Maybe she just needed more time. It’s why she’d come here, after all- to put distance between herself and her past. To give herself time to heal and be a normal girl. That’s what Aunt Lisa told her to do. America held nothing but pain, anger, and bitter loneliness. Her mother had just started serving a long prison sentence for a large amount of cocaine. Growing up, her mother had been more into chasing her next high than raising her daughter. Amber had mostly raised herself. Her grandparents lived in a Florida retirement home; they couldn’t take her in. At 18, Amber was a junior in high school in the American school system; in Japan, the equivalent was her second year of kotogakko school. She had flunked a year in middle school after a lot of problems at home, fighting with her mother a lot, trying to make her get sober. That was the last time Amber had tried to get her mother to care more about her than her damn drugs. After her mother’s latest arrest and cocaine charge, Amber had been prepared to drop out of school, go full time at McDonald’s and get another part time job so she’d have enough money to keep a roof over her head and food in her belly. Then Aunt Lisa showed up at her apartment door out of the blue. Aunt Lisa was her mother’s younger sister. In college, she’d fallen head over heels for a Japanese man studying abroad; they’d had several classes together. At the end of their time together, he gave her a diamond ring and she followed him to Japan. All that happened before Amber was born; she only knew her aunt through family stories, photographs and very rare Skype calls. Aunt Lisa had always sent Amber birthday and Christmas gifts, at least until age 11, when Amber told her aunt to stop because her mom just pawned the gifts to pay for her drug habit. Aunt Lisa offered Amber a place in her house, to be a part of her own family. A chance for a new life. A chance to finish school. A new start in a new country; something Amber had been praying for. She hadn’t hesitated to say yes. The train pulled into another station. She swayed with the stopping motion. Her full bladder protested and she squeezed her muscles tight. People pushed past her; an elbow jabbed into her lower back. A small spurt of pee warmed the front of her pullup. Her heart fluttered and she clamped down tight with her pelvic muscles to stop the yellow tide. The thin padding soaked her pee up but it still felt wet and clammy. She winced- would Aunt Lisa count this as a wetting? Or would she let Amber slide since it was only a few drops? A few big drops. Would diapers full time really be all that bad? Her night diapers were so thick and comfortable; she could pee all she wanted without worrying about leaks or leaving her cozy bed. Full time diapers meant no more worries about those fancy toilets with all those buttons and kanji. Her cousin was the same age as her and diapered full time, so she wouldn’t be the only one in a diaper. Diapers also meant a longer time between changes, so she could go shopping all day without worrying about changing her pullups or finding a toilet. Diapers also meant thick and noisy underwear peeping out from under her short skirt. Her eyes widened at the thought. Pullups were so much thinner and discrete. They didn’t show. Right? Nervously, Amber smoothed down her flouncy skirt. She certainly felt her pullup if she pressed in enough, but it was so thin she was sure no one could see it. Pullups were thicker than panties, like wearing several pair at once, yet they were so much thinner than her bulky night diapers. All of her wettings in her pullups and her diapers were not accidents. The only true accident she’d had was on the long flight over. Travelling by herself for the first and only time in her eighteen years, she’d been nervous. Toss in a gnarly bout of air turbulence and she’d been too terrified to leave her seat to get up and pee. Fear had convinced her the plane was going to crash and she was going to die. That was her kind of luck. Surviving the plane and waiting in a very long line for the ladies’ room, she hadn’t been able to make it. One little leak had turned into a massive flood. Her luggage had been misplaced, so she’d been stuck in wet pants until her aunt found her. From Narita airport all the way home, nobody had said a word about her wet, pee-smelling jeans. Strangers stared covertly. Only foreigners openly gawked. No one teased or taunted her and they all looked hastily away when she made eye contact. A few people might have taken photos, but they were very covert about it so she never noticed. At her aunt’s house, Amber’s new home, Aunt Lisa had told her to take a bath and gave her some of her cousin’s clothes to borrow. The clothes were a little too small, but she managed to squeeze into them. Amber had felt so ashamed and embarrassed- so much for making a good impression. Her only consolation had been seeing the way her cousin’s pants poofed out and hearing the tell-tale crinkle. Settling into her new life, Amber noticed how doting Aunt Lisa treated her cousin. He was the same age as Amber- eighteen- but Aunt Lisa treated him much younger. She even checked and changed his diapers, like she didn’t trust him to manage his own diapers. He never fought her- he seemed to enjoy the attention. And when Amber had her accident, Aunt Lisa had been just as tender with her Amber’s heart had ached with yearning and jealousy at her cousin’s treatment. In those loving moments, Amber saw flashes of her mother when she was growing up- rare moments of sobriety and regret, when her mother remembered she had a daughter. Aunt Lisa treated Amber like an adult, but Amber secretly wanted the gentle warmth her cousin and his diapers got, something she never had enough of in her own childhood. So she’d purposefully wet her pants again, just to see how her aunt would react. No yelling, no judgement- just tender care. A few more wet pants during the following days found Amber in pullups. A couple of wet nights landed her in diapers, along with a plethora of hugs and kisses. Amber had wanted and craved that attention. Now she found herself enjoying the added feelings of security and comfort her extra padding provided. Her new dilemma; should she stay in pullups during the day and put more effort into figuring those damn toilets out, or just give up and go diapered full time?

I awoke early and had a hard time placing my surroundings. I was in a crib, but it wasn’t mine, but then I felt someone moving next to me. Ah, yes. I’m in Lexie’s crib. “Are you up?” she asked “Yes,” I said. With that, she launched into a long kiss. This was interrupted by Lexie’s mom entering the room. “Time to get up. Jakie’s dad will be here in a short while to pick him up.” I was disappointed that my stay was coming to an end. Like my mother, Lexie’s mother held a running conversation while she was changing me and getting me dressed. I wondered where my mother was if dad was picking me up. “She’s got some errands to do this morning. Besides, it will be easier getting your high chair and the like back to the car with your father.” She put Lexie and me into playsuits, and we went down for breakfast. I got another turn at being breastfed, and then my father was there. He loaded up the car and finally led me out. I was clutching on to Oliver and turned for one last look at Lexie. She blew me a kiss. As soon as I got home, I wrote Lexie a note telling her what a great time I had. For the first time since this whole thing started, I felt good. Elated. Perhaps I could get through this. As the morning wore on, my diaper was getting progressively wetter. I also needed to poop, but mom wasn’t home yet. I held it off as long as possible, but finally stood and released my bowels. I went downstairs. “Um, Dad,” I started. I hadn’t yet had to ask him for a change, and while he had watched while Mom did it a few times, he hadn’t done one himself. He looked at me, and I looked at him. “I really need it.” He nodded and led me upstairs. He wasn’t chatty like mom was, but he methodically cleaned me up and got me into a fresh diaper. I looked for signs that maybe he would think that this was just too much to continue with, but I saw nothing. Mom still wasn’t home at lunchtime, but dad gave me some PBJ sandwiches and a bottle. I killed more time and Mom finally came home in the late afternoon. “How was your night at Lexie’s,” Mom asked. “It was fun,” I admitted. “Did you and Dad do OK this morning?” “Well, he had to change a poopy diaper, but he seemed to do OK.” Mom just smiled. “Yes, well he had to sooner or later. I’m not supposed to be the one doing all the changes. It was pretty much the same the first time you were a baby.” I bristled at the “first time” part of this. Mom continued. “I hear you got to breastfeed over there. How’d you like that?” I nodded. “It was, um, different.” I had kind of liked it. “I hadn’t decided yet if I should go through the process, but I think now I will. It’s going to take a bit of work to get me lactating again.” Well, there it was. More effort. I wasn’t getting out of diapers any time soon. I moped around the house until it came to Monday morning. My mood improved at the thought of seeing Lexie again. As I was walking into the school, I caught sight of another baby boy ahead of me, and I hastened my pace to catch up. When I got to see who it was, I realized it was Mark. He glared at me. “Get away from me, freak,” he said. “But, Mark,” I pleaded. “Get away. It’s your fault I’m dressed up like a freaking baby.” “My fault?” I said with incredulity. “Yeah, your fault. It was bad enough that the doctors told me I likely would need diapers as a result of the injuries from the crash. But then your mother talked my mother into turning me into a baby like you. I hate you.” And with that, he hustled off. I just stood there confused. I was shaken out of my state when I felt someone grab me. I turned in anger but then saw it was Lexie and smiled. “What’s up with you?” she asked. “Sorry, Lexie. You surprised me. That, and I just saw my old friend Mark. He’s now a baby.” “Really?” Lexie said. “Yeah, but he’s not any friendlier toward me. He blames me for it happening.” “Well, it was probably them going on the joyride that killed a kid that did it,” Lexie rationalized. “Yeah, but it still hurt.” We talked until we had to go to class. At lunchtime, I headed to the babies’ table but noticed the Mad Men all sitting by themselves. They were all babies now. I went over to say hello, but Mark intercepted me. “I told you we don’t want you around. Get it through your head.” I was taken aback but went back to my regular table to sit with Lexie. “It appears all the Mad Men are now babies,” I told her. “But they don’t want anything to do with me.” “They’ll come around, eventually,” Lexie said. “They always do. They’ll find they need to.”

I know it's like, only my third thing on here, but bear with me. This one's a bit more lengthy, and isn't done. But this one's a bit more revised than where I'm posting it elsewhere. Shouldn't take too long to catch this up to where it is right now, though. Please enjoy and let me know what you think! DISCLAIMER: If it is not officially declared to be, the story is NOT DISCONTINUED. I don't expect it to ever happen, but until you hear from me directly whether a project has been ended or not, just assume it's either taking longer than usual or is on hold. Please enjoy! Sheltered 1 - Joyce “Listen, Emms, I just think we should...start seeing other people.” Jack awkwardly spoke, his half-hearted breakup airing through the speaker of her phone. “We just don’t have that connection anymore, ya know? So I figured it’d be best if we just broke up this way and have it be easier on the both of us.” “Jack you fucking asshole!” the livid girl shouted, kicking the door to a home she no longer had ownership of. What a sick joke, finding to have been kicked out of your own home before even trying to step a foot inside. It was one thing for wanting to break up, but for doing it in such a shallow and sleazy way? Breaking up by voicemail and changing the locks was what really took the shitlord cake! Unbelievable! “Listen er,” The voicemail continued, and his digitized voice made Emily seethe. “I had the locks changed to the...apartment. I know you have stuff in here, but I’d rather someone else came for them. So you know, uh, we wouldn’t have to see each other…” “Ugh, you piece of shit! Can’t you at least face me if we’re gonna do this?” Emily raised her voice again, pounding on the door, unable to reciprocate her feelings. The outlet for anger that should have been her now-Ex was a block of wood, and she could only express that anger through her fists. It was so unfair! Being dumped so one-sidedly, and stepping out of the picture before she could even catch a breath--so suddenly. There was certainly sadness from losing her significant other, but it didn’t do a single thing to dampen the frustration and rage she was feeling towards him right now. “And um,” Of course there was more. “I’ll be gone for the week doing some stuff, so one of your friends won’t be able to reach me until next Sunday. Sorry about that.” As if there was actually any remorse. “And I’m really sorry about this Emily, I just think this is the best for the both of us…Bye.” The voicemail clicked, and his spiel was over. Emily’s heart was being tossed and turned by a tornado of emotions. She was hurt, yet bitter, since the poor sap couldn’t even face her to give a proper breakup. To the very end he was an inconsiderate, self-absorbed douche that only ever gave a damn about how he felt! In the short term for what sucked the most, all of her clothes were in their--his, apartment! Emily was already kicking herself for having lingering attachment. But how could you sever almost a year’s worth of love in the blink of an eye? Even she knew their relationship wasn’t in the best of spots...but not bad enough to think that this would happen. Unfortunately, the place was signed under his name, and she had no legal authority to be in there; no authority to get all of her clothes...That’s what sucked the most! Unable to even change, as she moved closer to the exit, the anger burning inside Emily turned into frustration, then finally sorrow. So much of her life had been turned on its head in one fell swoop. Emily moped along the sidewalk as she was still in the blouse, dress pants and hard-sole shoes she’d been hoping to change out of since she sat in her desk this morning. The bustling of cars, people, and city construction blended into white noise as she was deep in sorrowful thought. The little things like not being able to change clothes, get something to drink or even take an after-work shower in her former home seemed to be all that she could think about. The passing faces and noise by this point had all meshed together into white noise. An even darker reminder in the back of her head was how just because her life stopped, that didn’t mean the same for the rest of the world. She had work tomorrow, and there was no chance in hell she could wear the same clothes twice! She took out her phone, hoping someone could help her out; observing her very small list of contacts… “Candace, please, it’s just for one night. I just need a place to stay so I can freshen up for work the next morning…” A repeated string of failed attempts were already plummeting her expectations. “Oh...you said there’s no space at your place? Alright, sorry to bother…” “...You moved? Where? Denver? Alright, sorry for calling…” “The place is being renovated...Mhmm. Okay, thanks anyways.” “Vacation...Okay.” A new piece of her heart would chip, as each and every one of her friends let her down; the many lifelines she thought she could count on in times like this. Her mom and dad were not an option either, as it was thanks to her own life decisions--so long ago now, that would put the width of almost an entire country between she and her guardians. She was sitting on a park bench, becoming more glum as the minutes passed and the oranges and yellows from above started to mix with emerging blues and purples, until it all became a muddled black. Taking a deep breath, Emily tried to minimize the overbearing panic over work in her mind; diverting all the energy she had focused towards being mad at Jack. She tried her best to use it in a much more productive sense. What she needed to worry about the most was finding a place to stay for the night. She reasoned that a hotel or motel room would have to do; whatever she could find at the cheapest price. Standing up from the bench, she then noted her phone had only 13% of its battery left. Fucking Jack! If he hadn’t royally screwed her day up, she could have tended not only to herself, but her phone too! But that wasn’t an option right now, like all other avenues of hope. All Emily could do was work with the time she had. The clock read 7:06, and the sun was setting. And speaking of the sun setting...the clouds suspended above looked to resemble her mood an awful bit. Almost like… Rain. The raindrops were crashing onto the brick sidewalks with such force, that they would explode into little mini water bombs; snaking their way into the cracks between Emily’s exposed foot and shoe. Without an umbrella, Emily’s body had become ice cold with her business attire doing little to protect her from the raw elements, as she became drenched in every sense of the word. “N-Need t-to find a motel…” She shivered and shook with each step. Upon the research done on her phone, any of the nearby hotels were far too expensive to spend a night in. Yes, she needed shelter, but not the kind that would break the bank. Practically swimming in her shoes, Emily felt alienated by the few people that still walked the streets, the difference between them and her being they had umbrellas. “S-Somewhere, please…” Emily quaked as she was on her last leg. She couldn’t stop anywhere, because another wasted moment would be the potential rest she would lose out on. Everything had gone wrong, and there didn’t seem to be any sign of that changing in sight. What was supposed to be another day off of work had transformed into something much more unforgiving, and became a night filled with unforeseen obstacles that challenged her in every which way. Emily could only let out a pout as she saw the time on her phone read 8:28. But as long as she could get through this, everything would be okay, until--! “Wha!- agh!” Emily yelped as she was swept off the ground, and collided with the brick path face-first. Getting up on her knees shakily, she turned around to see the small opening in the sidewalk she managed to trip on; a puddle of water disguising the evil trap. She looked at her foot which now had a throbbing pain, but it was too dark to clearly see just how bad it was. Either way, her ankle hurt. What made things worse was when she noticed something on the ground, closer inspection revealing it to be a phone. Her phone. “No...no, no, please!” the damaged girl whined as she held the broken remains of her phone. The screen was cracked, and the now lifeless screen reflected her helpless situation. The feelings of despair truly started to sink in at that point, tears edging out of her eyes as bitter defeat embraced her. It was impossible to distinguish what were her tears and the rain, the mix of misery rolling down her cheeks. Bracing herself, Emily picked the phone up and started to stand. Putting weight on the wounded foot however was a mistake, feeling a sharp jolt of pain erupt from her left foot Emily quickly fell again. She looked around for anyone that could help her, but she had truly reached a new low now, as no one was walking in the area. Only the occasional car would drive by, much too busy to stop, much less even notice a person in the pouring rain. Not that she’d expect them to. Just like everyone else, she should be able to handle this. Streams of indistinguishable liquid ran down her cheeks. Did it matter though? Without any goal in mind now, Emily stood herself on the uninjured foot this time, limping to the doorstep of a building that was covered by a small overhead. Silently, interrupted by sobbing every now and then, she watched the rain crash into the ground as if it were hypnotic, and was devoid of all thought. Too miserable to think, too damaged to move, she ran out of stamina to consider the future, and was too preoccupied with digesting the present. Somehow, despite being covered in water and chilled to the bone, exhaustion must have taken her over, and she dozed off for who knows how long. “Excuse me? Hello?” Emily, still groggy from sleeping, looked up to see a mysterious figure tower over her. “You’re awake, thank goodness…” The womanly voice sighed in relief. “Wh-who are you?” Emily was still shaking the sleep out of her head, trying to collect herself. “Come on now, can you stand?” They were concerned for her, as they leaned over to pick Emily up by the shoulder. Leaning on the woman as a crutch, Emily quickly found herself on her bad foot again, letting out a yelp of pain as she quickly readjusted. The woman seemed to take notice as well, taking care to ease their pace towards who knows where. In one arm she had Emily’s torso and the other a hand occupied with an umbrella--something Emily would have appreciated as a silver lining ages ago. It hadn’t been but only a few minutes until Emily found herself being shuffled into a car and laid down on a row of seats with a towel surprisingly ready for her. Emily’s rescuer shut the door behind her and moved to the front seat. Then driver’s door shut, and the car made a quiet hum as the vehicle began to move. “I know you’re a bit out of it right now hon, but if you can hear me, I’m going to take you ba…” And that was it. Emily dozed back off into sleep, relishing that she was somewhere much more comfortable than the hard steps on the city streets. Either way, her current bed was thousands of times better than what she was just dealing with, and it felt amazing. Despite all the turmoil she’d experienced this day, Emily finally felt at peace, if only for a short while. “Mmmmmm” Emily softly moaned as she stirred beneath the covers. She rolled her body from one large pillow to the next. The mattress felt like a cloud that supported her entire body and everything around it. And the covers felt warm, yet so loose and free. Light from somewhere aroused her eyes, causing them to open, and force the realization that this wasn’t her bed, or room. Or...clothes? Emily looked over to the light that poured through a glass door balcony, and onto her and the light brown covers that blanketed her. She looked down at herself, dressed in a slightly white oversized nightgown, and lifted the hem to also see she wasn’t wearing the same panties as she was from when she was last awake. Unfamiliar with where she was, Emily racked her brain trying to think of what happened. She looked at the digital clock by the nightstand, seeing it was the early morning of tomorrow, or rather, today. Someone had picked her up last night, took her to her car and…nothing. That’s all she could remember? Emily looked down at herself again, reasoning she must have been pretty dazed to go under a transformation like this without being disturbed. It was also clear then she wasn’t wearing a bra, if she didn’t already feel vulnerable enough. Emily whisked the cover to the side as she stepped out of the bed onto the thickly carpeted floor, and walked over to the door leading into a hallway; reminding herself to stay on her good foot. The floor was now wooden (And cold, she almost sheepishly noted), and there were a couple of other doors that were closed. She walked into an open area decorated like a living room. On all of the white walls, she noticed the occasional empty space would be occupied by some abstract art piece or another. She walked past the large couch and coffee table, into a much shorter hallway, through another opening and into a kitchen. “Finally awake, are we?” The woman from the night before said to Emily, causing her to jump slightly from surprise. She was sitting at a table next to the island, sipping what permeated the wonderful aroma of coffee and was scrolling through a tablet, reading who knows what. “Uhm, hi.” Emily could only stifle a response. Being in a stranger’s home and comparing their attire, the woman couldn’t help but feel intimidated, and also well-underdressed for the exchange. “Well? Don’t be a stranger. Sit!” She commanded in a friendly tone, slipping off what were probably her reading glasses as she excused herself and moved over the counter. Emily was still taking in the woman’s appearance and her surroundings, trying to get things up to speed for herself while she adjusted. This room’s interior was dressed in tiled backsplash, and the many metal tools and appliances seemed so stainless...and expensive. “Excuse me?” Her savior suddenly asked, breaking Emily’s train of thought. “Oh! Yes?” Emily quickly responded, slightly embarrassed for being so out of tune. “I asked how you liked your coffee.” She looked back at Emily waiting for an answer. “Do...do you drink coffee?” “Yes! Yes, please,” Emily was quick to answer again. “I’ll just have whatever you’re having.” “Are you sure? I really don’t mind making something extra.” “No, please, I’ll be fine with yours.” “If you insist…” Emily stared down the back of the person she didn’t even know the name of yet. Her brown hair ran a bit past her shoulders, and was wavy and free, yet was tame and professional. Seeing her stand, even minus the heels, the woman looked like she had quite a few inches on the very small-feeling Emily. She was already dressed in a gray two-piece suit that hugged her curves, ready for the day, much unlike Emily who felt very exposed at the moment. She pulled a mug from one of the cabinets and poured the rest of the coffee pot into it, setting the drink in front of Emily. “Bon appétit.” She chuckled, returning to her own seat. Black. Of all the kinds of ways she could drink her coffee, it was black. The least of Emily’s favorites. But she couldn’t turn it down now, not after already being offered the drink. That would be impolite of course...and childish. Emily took a sip of the still-hot coffee, taking in the bitter taste as she sat the mug down. “You looked pretty banged up last night,” The woman broke the silence. “It was a good thing I found you when I did.” “Yeah, that’d have to be an understatement. I can’t thank you enough for what you did last night. Believe me, I felt like I’d reached the end of my rope…” The woman smiled again at Emily’s return of gratitude, taking a sip from her own drink now. “And you’ll have to forgive me,” She started again. “I didn’t even catch your name last night?” “Emily, Emily Sen.” Again, Emily internally cursed herself for not even giving her name before spending the night. Not that she was even in the condition to have done so. “And I didn’t get yours either…?” “Joyce, Joyce Summers. Sorry for not telling you any sooner, you seemed a bit out of it to try and make any conversation.” She laughed, as Emily’s unfortunate night was already starting to feel like a thing of the past. “Thank you again. And your house is so lovely, from what I’ve seen at least. For letting me stay in your room, thank you, really! I can’t appreciate it enough.” Joyce was still smiling, but with a tinge of curiosity she asked, “It’s really no trouble, but what do you mean? You didn’t sleep in my room last night. You slept in the guest room?” What? She had to be joking! Joyce looked amused as she could see the surprise morph Emily’s face. “But it was so huge! Everything in that room looks way too nice to not be a master bedroom!” “Better believe it hon, I just like my guests to feel comfortable.” Joyce sipped her coffee again, taking a moment to check once more on her tablet. Now that Emily thought about it, this apartment did seem awfully large, and didn’t look cheap in decor. Judging from what she had seen, it didn’t take long for Emily to connect the dots that Joyce did in fact live some kind of lavish life to an unknown degree. “Wow…” It was all Emily could do for a reply. Being in such a big home really put things into perspective with what she and Jack had at their relatively much smaller apartment. Jack...She then felt a pang of sadness at the sound of his name. Jack truly was an asshole, but she couldn’t deny how long they’d been together, and how much it hurt to now be apart. She felt the tears coming on as she never had a moment to process her emotions. “Is everything okay?” Joyce was already getting up from her seat, ready to come to her aid. “Yes,” She sniffled. “Everything’s fine...I was just thinking about last night, that’s all.” Emily half-lied, quickly drying her tears and doing her best to stay strong and keep up appearances, in front of the one person she wanted to look good to. Joyce sat down again, seeing she was more or less alright now, and said: “Well please, I want to hear all about it. It’s the least you could do. I’d like to know how something as wonderful as yourself could have been dealt such a bad hand.” Emily warmed to the kind tone of her words. For in what felt like forever, things actually felt like they were stable. And she was right. The least Emily owed Joyce was an explanation. Emily took a deep breath, then started. “So I was just coming home from work the other da…” “Well…” Joyce briefly spoke, taking in Emily’s entire story. She stopped, and got out of her seat, wrapping her arms around the surprised Emily. “It’s alright now, we’ll get you fixed up.” She continued, comforting Emily in the middle of her kitchen. She couldn’t help but blush, feeling even smaller now for being hugged like a child as if they needed consoling (considering her eyes could see just only above her bosom). But she couldn’t deny it was nice to have someone that actually felt like they were there for her. “Th..thanks…” Emily responded. While she couldn’t reciprocate the awkward embrace totally, she at least hung her hands from Joyce’s arms. The two were still far from really knowing each other, but it felt like Joyce was making an effort to shorten that gap of strangeness. “Now,” Joyce released Emily from their hug. “Let me clean our drinks up. I’m sorry I didn’t make anything more...‘extravagant,’ but I’m a bit rushed for time, you see…” Joyce was quick to take both mugs (Emily’s being hardly touched) and empty whatever was left into the sink and wash them out. Snapping back to reality, Emily then asked, “Also, how were you able to find clothes that fit me?” “As you can see the nightgown doesn’t fit since it’s in my size,” Joyce joked as she turned off the faucet. “But other than that, I just bought you a package of underwear when I got you back here. And how did I know your size? Well…” Joyce gave an exaggerated look as if she were sizing Emily up. “I have a knack for clothes!” She laughed. Then as an afterthought she included, “And sorry about the bra, I was a bit preoccupied on getting back to you with the bare minimum. I didn’t want to put you for a total scare by being alone in a stranger’s apartment.” “Wait, you bought this for me?” Emily looked down at herself. “Please, just let me know how much I owe you. I promise I’m good for it, and--!” “Nonsense.” Was all Joyce said. “Your money’s no good here. Only I will provide to my guests.” Emily then remembered her chest was currently bare under a single article of clothing, and was suddenly thinking about how Joyce had dressed her at some point last night; coloring her face in a new shade of embarrassment. But such thoughts were quickly chased by another one. Work! Ohgodohgodohgod, she totally forgot! Emily remembered checking the clock that morning and it was somewhere around 7:00, and she had to be in for 7:30! A look of panic took over Emily’s face and Joyce seemed to notice too, asking what was wrong. “I’m gonna be late for work! I need to be in by 7:30!” Emily worried as she was quick to slide the chair back over the tiled floor and unknowingly step on her injured foot. With a wince and jolt of pain, she fell back into her seat however, Joyce following over to her. “Emily,” She politely yet sternly said as she knelt and made eye contact with her. “You can’t go to work today.” Gently, Joyce lifted Emily’s red and slightly swollen ankle. “Did you forget about this?” Emily then looked too, and realized that she was being foolish for thinking she could work. But there wasn’t any way for her to call in! Not with her phone at least... “But my phone is broken, and I can’t-” Emily was interrupted as Joyce was already taking out hers. “What’s the number to your workplace?” Joyce asked, patiently waiting for an answer. Hesitantly, Emily gave the number to her. But why would she need to know? Emily was the one who had to call in. Joyce dialed the number and put the phone to her ear while she waited on the line. “Joyce really maybe I should be the-” Emily was again halted by Joyce when she mouthed the words “it’s fine” to her. “Hello?” Joyce greeted to the person over the phone. “Hi, this is Joyce Summers calling in place of a worker named Emily Sen?” There was a short pause on the other line. “ Yes, I’m calling to let you know Emily won’t be in for work today.” Another pause. “She injured her foot last night and can’t stand on it properly.” A sudden flashback struck Emily: whenever she would visit the nurse’s office at school, and have to hear the nurse explain her sickness or injury to her parents over the phone. Yes, she’s scheduled to be having it looked at today. Perfect, thank you for your help.” There was another long pause over the phone. “Who am I to Emily? A...close friend. Yes. Alright, I will be sure to let her know, thank you.” With that, Joyce hung up the phone and Emily was free for the day. “You didn’t have to call for me, really.” Emily stammered, feeling as if Joyce crossed a line that felt oddly foreign. She strangely felt the need to assert some sort of maturity she now felt was lacking. “I know I can seem overbearing,” Joyce admitted, “But please, let me do whatever I can to take any stress away from you. Let me help you.” Emily felt better once she explained herself and was somewhat put at ease. “Okay...Thank you, again.” Emily couldn’t express her gratitude enough. In a span of less than 24 hours, Emily had come to meet a person that was willing to bend over back for her on all fronts. Frankly, she feel deserving of such generosity. Not a single bit of it. “But they did tell me to relay to you that you still need to send an email stating that you won’t be in today. Just so they hear from you. And so, please, please, please!” Joyce raised her voice with each and every please, “Take it easy today?” After a brief pause, Emily conceded and nodded her head with a sheepish smile. Their moment was interrupted by the ringing of a doorbell. “Oh?” Joyce turned her head away. “Just a moment, if you will?” Joyce walked out of the kitchen and a little bit down the hallway to what was likely the main door. Emily didn’t dare budge from her seat, lest she cause even more trouble for the kindest stranger she’d ever met. She could hear a conversation begin. “Ms Summers, I don’t mean to rush you, but the car has been waiting for half an hour! I understand maybe taking a few minutes, but don’t you think this is a bit much?” “Calm down George, what are they going to do, fire me?” Emily could hear Joyce laugh a bit at her own remark. “Either way, we need to go, please!” The man sounded as if he were almost begging. “Okay, okay. Just a second, I have to say my goodbyes.” “Goodbyes?” The sound of a door suddenly closing made itself known, and Joyce appeared back in the kitchen. “Did I make you late?” Emily asked, already beginning to feel seeds of regret. “No, you kept me company.” Joyce corrected as she grabbed her handbag off the counter. “Time’s obviously a little short right now, though, but here’s the rundown: I want you to rest here today. Feel free to use the couch, tv, kitchen, bathroom and so forth. If I were you, I’d want to change right about now, but unfortunately there isn’t anything for you to wear that’d fit, so you’ll have to make do. There’s a computer in my office for you to send out your email whenever, and feel free to browse if that’s your thing.” Joyce took a brief pause, reaching the end of her laundry list. “And also, I didn’t bathe you last night, so don’t forget to take a shower!” Joyce joked as she was already walking out. “I’ll be back at around 5!” She shouted to Emily, farther away now. Emily could hear the doorbell ring once more. “I’m coming George!” Joyce yelled in an irritated tone, opening the door and quickly shutting it behind her. Emily sat there blankly, taking everything in once more. She now had this giant home to herself for hours, and was being told to enjoy it to the fullest extent. She was fine being dressed this way since it was just her; all she had to do was rest. But wait, bathe her? Emily remembered what she hoped was a joke made by Joyce. Emily blushed, already trying to forget about the thought. 2 - Relaxing Emily walked down the hallway, searching for Joyce’s office. She may have the entire day to relax, but she could get it started sooner by doing the one small task entrusted to her first. Emily looked at her choices, there being four doors (aside from the room she slept in) to choose from. Turning the knob of the nearest one, Emily opened the door to find a large bathroom, but that was for later. Either way, not an office. Shutting the door and moving on to the next, it was another room, probably Joyce’s. She didn’t take time to ogle out of respect for her rescuer’s privacy. The next door was locked, meaning it probably wasn’t that either, but the final door out of process of elimination looked to be it. An L-shaped desk was set up in the corner, and was mounted by a few monitors, notebooks, binder, and the rest of the office essentials. Emily pulled out the chair and faced herself in front of the monitors, looking down to see there were in fact two computers. On the rightmost one there was a small sticky note attached, labeled ‘BUSINESS’ “A computer just for business, and another for everything else…” Emily muttered to herself in amazement. Living life lavishly truly had its perks, and was especially intimidating to witness firsthand. The computer tower was already humming softly to indicate it was already on, and Emily shook the mouse to bring the computer out of its slumber. Instantly the screen lit up and she was quick to write and send out a proper email. Putting the computer back to sleep, Emily closed the office back up and was ready to start her day. It was only then though did the hunger really start to hit her. She’d barely had anything to eat or drink since lunch at work yesterday. It did feel a bit impolite, invading Joyce’s fridge; but she did tell her to, after all... Keeping it simple, she made some eggs and toast with a glass of orange juice. Biting into her food, she couldn’t help but note its unexpected quality! Be it the ingredients or appliances used to prepare them, it was certainly a better meal than she could ever prepare back at her old place. After finishing, she looked longingly at the fridge once more, already aware of how she was restraining herself from indulging too much. Yes, she was hungry, but then she’d not only feel like a glutton, but she was also taking advantage of Joyce’s kindness. Despite being told to relax, her actions needed to be careful and calculated, so not to make Joyce regret her own kindness. The dishes and pan were washed, and next on her checklist was the bathroom. It was a spacious, tiled room with orange lights that gave the atmosphere a warm glow. The centerpiece to the room was the tub itself; surrounded by steps, and a lowered ceiling that was an expansive shower head! On one end of the tub there were two handles for a faucet, and one for what Emily assumed to be for the shower portion. Near the sink was a pair of two large cabinets, opening them to find countless towels and amenities. Grabbing just the essentials, Emily set them beside the tub and started the water; the gushing flow already warm to the touch within seconds. It wasn’t every day Emily had a chance to bathe. She’d always have to be on the go and couldn’t afford a long soak, but today she could--and, it was also convenient for her foot. After enough time, when the water was filled to a reasonable height, Emily cut the water and had already stripped herself of her two articles of clothing and stepped into the water. It was pure bliss as she eased into the large tub. Easily she could have fit four more of herself in the tub; the sheer size was almost overwhelming. She rested her head along the curved edge where there was already cushioning attached. With her legs splayed out, and almost sitting up, the water coasted just beneath her shoulders; tiny waves bobbing from the shockwave of her entering the glorified hot tub. This home truly was like a fantasy and a dream to many much like herself. She knew it couldn’t last, but she knew to enjoy it for as long as possible. It was almost funny to imagine what she’d do if Joyce had told her to stay put. With the soap and conditioner she took out, Emily performed her routine (much slower than usual, of course) and allowed herself to simply soak. The euphoria was indescribable, just from lying there. She even let out a yawn, and then her eyes started to feel a little droopy. “Maybe for just a second…” Emily bargained with herself as she closed her eyes, clearly for more than just a second. Alone with her thoughts, and the noise of a bathroom fan, she quickly dozed off and fell into a slumber. “Hnnn….ah!” Emily stirred for a moment, then jolted herself awake from the swishing of water. “Ah…?” Emily looked around, confused for a moment, trying to remember what she was doing. “Aww...damn!” Called back to the task at hand, she somehow fell asleep while in the bath. Feeling all pruny, Emily was quick to press the drain button on the mounted console, as water slowly swirled into the center drain. “How long have I been in here?” She wondered, stretching away the fatigue. Emily looked at a high set window on the other end of the bathroom, and from what she could tell, not too much time had passed. Reluctantly, she stepped out of the water and draped a towel that seemed to fit quite well around her figure, and walked over to the sink to wash up while she dried off. She grabbed a smaller towel for her hair; it being somewhat shorter than Joyce’s--something she oddly noticed. After enough time, her blacker-than-usual hair was returning to its original shade as most of the excess water was gone. Unsure of what to do with them, Emily folded her towels and placed them next to the tub and returned the other things she had used. Reminding herself to ask Joyce what she should do with the towels when she gets back, Emily put her sole pair of panties back on and then the nightgown. It did feel kind of strange being in practically pajamas during what felt like daytime, but it was all she had to work with. The light was flicked off and the fan came with it, as a much cooler draft welcomed her back into the rest of the apartment. With really nothing else to do, Emily flopped onto the thick-cushioned couch and looked on at the tv as she gave it life with a nearby remote. Flipping through channels, it took a bit of searching until she could find something to be satisfied with. From then on it would be a day of lounging and relaxation. She stared at the high ceiling, still trying to accept what has happened to her and what has been done. A total stranger, someone she’d never met before was so willing to stick their neck out for her. The idea felt foreign to her, and the same could especially be said for the irony of a stranger treating her better than Jack did. Without even glancing at something that could give her an inkling of what time it was, Emily listened to the sounds of the tv and fell into sleep again. But before she could do that, the apartment was filled with a doorbell’s ring. Huh? Who was that supposed to be? Sitting up from the couch, carefully walking over to the door, Emily stepped down into the shoe area and on her toes peeked through the peephole. Of course, she had no idea who this person was, nor what they wanted. Warped by the wide lens, she could see they were wearing some kind of white lab coat. A doctor’s coat maybe? “Hello? Emily? Are you in there?” The new stranger knocked on the door this time. How did she know her name? Emily was puzzled as she reluctantly turned the handle and opened the door. She was adjusting her glasses when she saw Emily open the door, putting on a happy face. “Great, you must be Emily.” She greeted her, giving a small wave. “Hi,” Was all Emily could say for a moment. “I don’t mean to be rude, but how do you know my name?” The woman was a bit taken aback by Emily’s confusion, brushing past Emily and already entering the apartment with a bag about the size of a normal purse. “You’re kidding, right?” The woman asked as she made her way into the kitchen, already knowing the way. Emily shut the door behind her, following her in tow. “Did Ms.Summers not tell you I was coming?” “No, she didn’t…” Emily trailed off. She didn’t know how to feel. This person seemed familiar with being here, but she had no way of knowing who they were to Joyce, but at the least they were on a professional level. “I apologize for the confusion,” She was sifting through her bag on the table. “Ms.Summers called me earlier this morning, asking me to make a visit here to look at your foot.” She was pulling out a pair of latex gloves. “You can call me Doctor Hall.” she stretched out her hand, Emily shaking it in reply, still caught off guard by an in-home visit from a doctor in a stranger’s home. “I’m Emily, it’s nice to meet you.” While Doctor Hall was washing her hands, she said to Emily, “If you could just sit in a chair for me, please? That way I can take a quick look at the injury.” Not wanting to waste the woman’s time, Emily pulled out one of the chairs and turned it from the table, sitting down. It felt awkward not having to do anything else, but the sudden reminder of what she was wearing returned a few shades of embarrassment to her face. The doctor either didn’t care, or knew too well how to pay no mind to it though, as she slipped her gloves on and set her bag beside her on the floor while taking a professional, yet gentle hold of Emily’s foot. Nonetheless, it caused her to wince out of reflex, and tried to take a deep breath in the solace that she was still likely in good hands now. Doctor Hall poked and prodded her foot in certain spots and gave other areas around the ankle light taps. She’d ask Emily to try moving her foot and roll it, sizing up what she was looking at. Satisfied, she set Emily’s foot down again and went back into her bag. “Well, it’s nothing serious, just a minor sprain, it seems.” Doctor Hall said, pulling out what looked like gauze. “However,” she continued, beginning to wrap Emily’s foot. “Better to nip the problem in the bud before it has time to bloom, as they say…” “Will I be able to work tomorrow?” Emily asked. “Tomorrow?” She took a moment to consider. “What kind of work do you do?” “Office work. But some days I have to move files from different departments in my building, so I guess walking is part of the job.” “Coming from a doctor that cares for her patients? If you stay off your foot today, and keep it well-iced, I would say you would probably be in decent shape to be working at the desk. But in the long-run and for what possibly may come your way? It’s a definite no. I’d give it a couple of days, at least.” “A couple of days?” The estimate was a little shocking. “Do I really need to wait that long?” “In the end you’re your own person.” The doctor shrugged as she finished wrapping Emily’s foot. “If I were you though, I would wait until my foot is back in good shape before I start going back to my daily routine. Worst case if you do choose to work tomorrow, you could potentially prolong the injury and find yourself in a position even worse than now. Best case? Well, consider it a lucky gamble you shouldn’t have been making in the first place.” Emily still looked unsure as Doctor Hall discarded her gloves into the trash bin and grabbed her bag, standing up. “You can ask Ms.Summers for my contact information if you’d like a direct referral to take some time off of work. Just remember what I said, should you choose to bite the bullet. Don’t forget to keep ice on your foot for today, regardless of what happens tomorrow. She was already making her way to the door when Emily suddenly realized she was leaving unpaid. “Wait!” Doctor Hall turned around for a moment to look at her. “Don’t you need my full name, credit card or something for the bill? The address might be an issue though, so-” “Already taken care of. Ms.Summers insisted on the bill going under her name. She requested that I didn’t even talk numbers with you. Enjoy the rest of your day!” With that, Doctor Hall took her leave, and Emily was alone again, dumbstruck. Already paid for? Why was Joyce doing so much on her behalf? That woman was of a breed Emily couldn’t even begin to understand. However, she quickly resigned the thought, for now, and grabbed some ice from the freezer. Resting her foot on a pillow and an ice pack on top, Emily was able to find comfort once again with where she lie, with a slightly less irritated ankle. Emily opened her eyes to find she’d slipped into another nap for, again, who knows how long. Turning a bit to notice the blanket that had been draped over her, she also noticed how her foot was just as numb from the cold as it’d been when she slept. Did someone change the ice out? Her ears then picked up on the humming from the kitchen, accompanied by a wonderful smell dancing past her nose. Looking out the large windows that lined the wall of the apartment, the sky was of a much more orange shade now. Not wanting to leave the blanket, Emily carried it with her like a cloak to the kitchen. Sure enough it was Joyce, her hair pulled back as she worked on some sort of meal. She was in a much more relaxed outfit now, a long sleeve shirt and smooth charcoal pants. Joyce turned around to see her, and if she was surprised to see her, she did a good job of hiding it. “Finally awake, are we?” She smiled. “How long have I been asleep?” “Since I got home a few hours ago, that long, at least.” Joyce stirred something in a nearby pot. “I’m sorry for being asleep, if I had known you were back I…” “Don’t even think about it,” Joyce was quick to respond, but just as focused on the cooking. “You’re doing exactly as I instructed, and you’re making yourself at home. Anything less and I’d have been sure to scold you.” Joyce again let a small laugh at her own teasing. “But I’ve been dying to know, what did Doctor Hall say about your foot?” “Oh, well she said I would technically be fine to go back tomorrow, but she said I should wait a few days for a full recovery…” Granted, if it were a few days, Emily would have to start thinking about where she could stay for a more long-term situation. It stressed her out even thinking how she should have already gotten started on this earlier today. “Okay then.” Joyce blankly replied as she unloaded a tray of what looked like garlic bread from the oven. “I’ll have to know what you like in advance for what to eat then.” “Wait, what?” Emily almost broke into a stammer, Joyce yet again being a box full of surprises. “Well, if you’re going to be staying here I should at least accommodate you properly.” She nonchalantly spoke, looking to Emily as if it were a given. “Joyce, I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve already done. I’m already in your debt so much there’s no way I can make you do more for me! I’m practically a stranger to you!” “First,” Joyce was getting plates out of the cabinet. “There is no debt, only kindness from one friend to another. Second,” The silverware came out next. “You already said yourself that no one was around to take you in, yet here you are with someone more than willing to do that. Third,” Then the glasses. “Having company here for an extended time is rare for me. You might think it’s weird, but I like having company every once and awhile. These opportunities aren’t exactly common for me. And finally,” She opened the fridge. “What would you like to drink?” “Joyce, please. I can figure something out on my own. I can’t be a burden to you like this anymore. You paid my medical bills!” “Emily,” Joyce assumed that firm tone from earlier this morning. “I appreciate your thoughtfulness for how I handle my finances, but frankly, they are mine and not yours.” It certainly was a bold, yet factual stance. “What I choose to do with my money is my business, and I choose to use it on you. Instead of worrying about what I do for you, it’d make me much happier that you take the time to enjoy the things I do for you. In the end, I can’t make you stay; but I want you to know how happy it would make me if you did. Think about today. Didn’t it feel good? Being able to take the day off for once? I know it’s only been a day, but I really don’t mind becoming something more than strangers.” Joyce didn’t feel like waiting and was already pouring some kind of drink for her, finishing her little speech. “Joyce…” How was she supposed to respond? She had trouble finding the words. Joyce wanted this, and Emily knew it would be convenient for her, so why was she fighting this? Was it a matter of values or something? She didn’t even know herself. “Please. Let me take care of everything?” Joyce finally stopped to look at Emily sincerely, giving what felt like her complete, undivided attention. With a final sigh, Emily sat down in the chair and hung her blanket over the back of it. Her bare thighs felt cold making contact with the bare wood, the adjustment in temperature feel being a bit hard to make. Joyce seemed to have sensed her compliance, because she took their plates and already started to load them. “I hope you like pasta,” She said, moving on to the pot of sauce. “It’s one of my all-time favorite dishes.” Pasta did sound good, and if it was anything like the breakfast from this morning it was sure to be good. “Sounds great.” Emily said, part of her mind still hanging on their conversation from a moment earlier. “So I’m curious,” Joyce finished their plates and set them in their respective spots, once across from the other. “What did you have for lunch today?” “Lunch? Oh,” It then occurred to her she really didn’t have anything. “I actually didn’t have anything.” “Well you should start. My food is your food, and sticking to a constant meal cycle is good for you.” Yes, this was true. Yet this wasn’t something she didn’t know. Emily took her first bite into the angel hair pasta, covered in a layer of rich sauce and lightly powdered in parmesan. The first bite was amazing. Everything blended so well together in an indescribable taste. She felt like she was eating at a restaurant right now! What was the secret? Was it the cook? The ingredients? Emily was dying to know. “How is it?” Joyce took another casual bite of her food. “It’s...amazing!” Emily exclaimed. “How do you get it to taste this good? It feels like I’m sitting at a restaurant right now!” Better put a luxury hotel. After using much of Joyce’s apartment, it was clear that this wasn’t a far cry from being one--maybe even better. “Glad to hear my cooking receives such high praise!” Joyce continued eating. “Do you eat like this every night?” “Not every night,” Joyce pondered the thought. “Sometimes I have business dinners to attend, or I like to eat out instead. Food’s always better when someone else makes it for you.” It went without saying, but did Joyce honestly not consider this good food? “For times like this I don’t mind cooking for a guest. It’d be poor etiquette otherwise.” “Speaking of business,” Emily took another bite, and then another. “What do you do for work? If you don’t mind me asking.” “Oh, I…” Joyce seemed to be calculating her answer. “I have a high position in a company that helps manufacture things for hospitals.” “Oh, okay. Like, bioengineering or something?” Emily poked further, wondering why the answer was so dumbed down. “In a way, I suppose.” Joyce kept to her cryptic answers. “But what about you? What do you do for work? “I have a desk job at this real estate office, not like I could ever afford anything there haha.” “Oh? Any company I might know?” “It’s called Luxury Estate?” While the company did handle high-end properties, it did include much more down to earth and affordable ones as well. “Oh right, now I know. The international one!” “Mhm,” Emily took a sip of her drink, finding it to be iced tea; equally as delicious as her meal. “Now if you don’t mind me asking, how old are you?” Emily couldn’t help but feel curious to find the answer. She couldn’t put her finger on it. Joyce looked so full of youth, had a great figure, and was tall...Unlike others who could not be as blessed. Yet, she had this aura around her that made her seem so...mature? Maybe that’s what it took to survive at the level she worked at? “My, you’re being quite forward aren’t you?” Joyce gave Emily a little grin as the pair ate. Her remark quickly had Emily backtracking, suddenly realizing how rude she was being. “If it was too much to ask, I-” “32. I just turned 32 last month.” 32?! Emily was shocked for different reasons. She looked so young, but she seemed to be at an age where she wouldn’t look as great as she did now! And to be so young at the same time, wouldn’t it take years upon years to reach the kind of place she was in now? The kind of time that’d make your age closer to 40 at the minimum? “Wow…” was all Emily could say. “Wow?” Joyce raised an eyebrow. “Now I’m worried, is that good or bad?” “Good! It’s good, really. You just seem so...accomplished.” “I hope so,” Joyce chewed her food. “ To reach somewhere like this has been some time in the making. I know it usually takes others a bit longer, but both luck and skill play their parts for something like this. But now I need to know, how old are you?” “26.” Emily said. The age gap was only six years, but it was a whole six years. She felt light-years away from the kind of success Joyce had, and highly doubted that she could ever reach something like Joyce’s stature. Still, Joyce seemed almost as young as Emily was, apparently Joyce has brains and beauty on her side. “Looks like I’m six years your senior.” Joyce spoke in an almost playful voice, with her plate almost cleared. They continued their small talk as dinner came to a close. Despite Emily insisting that she help, Joyce took on the task of cleaning up all by herself, happy to do something for someone else every once in awhile. Emily then excused herself to the bathroom, walking in and by the tub, quickly realizing that she forgot about the towels, and yet they weren’t where she had left them? “Joyce, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask you what to do with the towels.” Emily said, finishing her business a second ago. “That? Don’t worry about it. I saw them on the way in to take a shower. I don’t remember telling you what to do with them, so you’re not at fault,” Joyce had just finished washing the dishes and set them out to dry. “Still though, you must have been in there for a good two hours? What did you do, fall asleep in there?” “How did you know I was in…?” Puzzled, she stared at Joyce for a response, but suddenly felt her eyes drifting around the room, connecting the dots as she could see a tiny security camera mounted in one of the corners. “You were...spying on me?” Emily suddenly felt a sense of betrayal. Realizing how she made Emily feel, though, Joyce was quick to try and amend the situation. “No, no, please don’t misunderstand! These things were here long before you arrived. They’re for security purposes, of course. It’s my daily routine to review the footage, with you in the shot or not. And...it’s not that I don’t trust you, but on some level as you said earlier, we’ve just met. And if it makes you feel any better, I don’t have a camera in the bathroom, or any of the bedrooms.” The air certainly felt awkward now, even though part of Emily knew Joyce was justified in her actions, it wasn’t pleasant to suddenly find out she’d been on recording for the entire day. But it had been only a day. She was still a complete stranger despite their brief yet meaningful interactions. She paced her mind trying to remember if she’d done anything worth worrying over, but if she hadn’t been confronted over something now, there wasn’t anything noteworthy to begin with. “I’m sorry. It was something I should have told you earlier. Just being here for so long makes it second nature, I suppose. But believe me, your privacy is assured while you’re here.” “It’s fine.” Emily said, not even sure if she believed what she was saying. “Like you said, it’s no biggie. It was just a surprise hearing there are cameras. But you have your reasons, of course. “Thank you for being so understanding. Truth be told, they came with the apartment when I got it. But let’s not talk about that anymore. I’m going to finish up cleaning here. In the meantime, you can take a look at some of the clothes I got for you to start wearing. “Joyce! Please!” With a few simple words, Emily’s stress had already kicked back into high gear. Coming from a lifestyle where she was just a few steps away from pinching pennies, it didn’t sit well with her to have so much money be spent on her. “I know you loved wearing my nightgown all day,” Emily blushed at the ‘my’ part. “But I figured you would start needing some more appropriate clothes, be it for work or anything else. And stop worrying! It’s only just a few things until that Jack fellow is back from whatever he is up to.” Anxiously, Emily walked to the door where there were a couple of large shopping bags from store brands she’d only dream of shopping at casually. “Take them into the living room!” Joyce shouted from the kitchen. “I need to see how they fit so they can be tailored if need be!” Tailored? She had to be joking. Yet, judging from her track record thus far...it wasn’t likely. Maybe she was back at 5 because she was doing all this shopping for her… “I said I got you some clothes, yet truthfully some of it was ballparking.” Joyce followed into the living room. “I know I said I can have a knack for sizes, but it’s not usually my forte to take these sorts of gambles.” She sat herself on the couch. That was hard to believe. Emily sifted through one of the bags, already pulling underwear and socks out. “The underwear should be fine though, I was able to get your size for that this morning. After getting you that pair last night I wanted to be sure before I made any real commitments.” “Joyce...thank you so much…” She had no idea how she would ever repay Joyce for all of this--not that Joyce ever intended to let her. “Like I mentioned earlier, this is nothing hon. Now enough about the price tags and try some stuff on! I need to know if any adjustments need to be made.” Emily took all the sets of bras and panties with her into the bathroom, individually setting them apart to try each of them on. Shockingly, Joyce had gotten her seven sets, one for each day of the week. Looking all of them over, each was some shade of dark blues, purples, pinks, grays and black. Unlike what she was used to wearing, they all had some form of design be it in stripes or small white dots all across. She slipped the nightgown off and so with the panties too. Grabbing the first pair, she slid the bottoms on and sure enough they were a perfect fit, and the bra as well. She even noticed the stark change in quality feel, as the material felt wonderful to the skin, and hugged her figure. Cycling through all the other pairs, they were sure enough identical in quality and fit. “Like you guessed it, everything was perfect.” Emily said, back in the simple nightgown and underwear. And as she returned them to the bags, she wasn’t positive, but almost could have sworn she heard maybe the slightest bit of disappointment in Joyce’s voice, when she said “You tried all of them in there?” “Mhm, they feel really nice too.” Emily shrugged off the thought. How was it realistic to be sad over something like that? “Great then, let’s have you try the rest on.” And so she did. After excusing herself to put one of the new sets of underwear on (feeling stupid for having taken the last pair off, anyways), Emily showcased herself in the rest of the clothing, much to the approval of both. “Well, there could be a few minor adjustments to be made on some of the clothes, but I’m thankful I could get away with as much as I did.” Joyce looked content, as Emily packed the rest away. “I’ll say,” Emily meant it too. Truly luck had been on her side when Joyce shopped for her. It felt otherworldly to have such high quality clothes, and for such a pleasant fit too. Her normal clothes fit, of course, but there was something about expensive clothes that separated themselves from what was pristine, and what was...well, generic. “But I think that button-up should at least stay like that.” Joyce pointed out to the pajama set Emily was wearing. The top and bottom were light purple and made of silk (a wonderful feeling), and had sleeves that stretched just up to her palms, giving it a slightly oversized look. Other than that, the pants were just as form-fitting as the rest (and even accentuated her bum, a bit), and had the slightest bit of extra length on them as well. “You think?” “Definitely, not everything has to fit the figure to be cute, you know.” Emily blushed at Joyce’s remark, trying to casually play it off, as Joyce couldn’t help but eat up the flustered girl’s emotions. “But with our last job for the night finished, all that’s left to do is relax.” The pair laid themselves on the couch for the rest of the night, and it was spent watching tv and lounging. It didn’t take long though for Joyce to stay on top of Emily for not having ice on her foot, which was quickly rectified. Becoming drowzy, Emily finally nodded herself off on the couch, just awake long enough to feel suspended in the air, and then gently crashing her head into something soft. It was only her first day meeting Joyce, but she already felt like an irreplaceable person in her life. Not for the money, but for the genuine care and concern she had for her. Who knew what tomorrow would bring? 3 - A Night Out Time truly did seem to fly, being with Joyce. Agreeing to take the next few days off with the aid of Doctor Hall’s referral, Emily was able to receive three more excused days off work. She would have been fine with one or two, but both Doctor Hall and Joyce pressured her to take more time to heal. Every day Emily would perform her daily routine, then have a scheduled nap and wake up to find Joyce cooking another wonderful meal for dinner that night. In this time the two had grown closer and the transition from strangers to friends had been fast and swift. Emily still continued to fret over staying in Joyce’s company for too long, but Joyce would only shoot down every complaint she made. And sure enough, what was considered Emily’s life now started to feel normal; even if it had been days since she stepped foot outside, there was comfort in the solitude of Joyce’s home. Doctor Hall came back on Emily’s last official day of recovery to inspect her foot again, satisfied with the results. What was once a red and slightly purple sight, had now receded considerably and was more pink than anything else. Regardless, Emily was much more happy with their second interaction compared to the first, considering she was much more “clothed” now, snug in jeans and a t-shirt--both articles of course sporting their expensive logos. “Looks good, Emily.” Hall discarded the bandages in the bin with her gloves. “Just keep ice on it for the rest of the weekend and there shouldn’t be a problem going back to work.” Work. The idea felt almost foreign to her now. It had only been a few days, but she already felt so out of her usual rhythm. What’s more, the weekend was already here, meaning she would have two more days off until she went back; surely making the adjustment even tougher on her. The two said their goodbyes and Emily was on her own again for a short while, until Joyce soon came walking through the door in her usual business attire. “Good to see you after working all day,” Joyce let out a sigh as she took a moment to sit on the couch. “Well, you know where I’ve been.” Emily took a sip from her bottle of water, tapping her feet rhythmically on the wooden floor. “Well?” Joyce looked at Emily with an expecting look, a cue Emily didn’t pick up on. “Don’t you want to tell me what the doctor said?” Feeling dumb for not noticing sooner, “Right! She said my foot is more or less fine now. Just take it easy for the rest of the weekend and I should be ready to go back Monday.” “You’re already going back?” Joyce said with a small tinge of disappointment in her voice. “Well I mean, yeah. My foot definitely feels better, and I’ve already taken off so much time from work. It wouldn’t feel right prolonging this kind of thing.” “I suppose…” Joyce seemed a bit lost in deep thought over something, but seemed to snap out of it quickly, exclaiming, “But we need to celebrate,” She said it in a matter-of-factly kind of voice. “Your foot is all better now.” “Celebrate? My foot is still in recovery, she said it was going to be fine with some more rest.” “Kids have early birthdays all the time, it’s the same thing with a foot recovering.” Joyce reasoned with the absurd connection. “And don’t worry, I know just the place we can go. That way you won’t have to do much walking. Just leave it all to me.” “Joyce, we really don’t have to-” “Think of it as a celebration to our friendship then.” She seemed adamant about this whole, ‘going out’ thing. “Had it not been for your mishap we wouldn’t have met, no? To happy accidents, as they say.” It was clearly another argument Emily was not going to win. With a little more convincing, she agreed to Joyce’s terms, knowing that she’d not be allowed to spend a single dime on their “little dinner” that night. Joyce had outfits prepared for them in advance. A black, charcoal cocktail dress for herself, and a skater dress made up of shades of blue for Emily. With a little makeup, the pink blemish on her ankle from before was just about completely undetectable now, and after slipping on their shoes for the night they were ready. Right before exiting the apartment, Emily caught her first glance of Joyce in her outfit; a magnificent form, and only complimented by her masterful makeup work. “Wow, you look amazing.” Was all Emily could say. “You look nice yourself. Maybe we should do these things more often?” Out of concern for Joyce’s bottomless finances, Emily hoped they didn’t. For the first time in days, Emily set foot outside of Joyce’s apartment, and made her re-entry into reality. Joyce must have been thinking the same thing too, when she said, “Welcome back to the outside world! I know it’s been a while, so let me know if you need to be brought up to speed on things.” She laughed, and so did Emily. They walked down the hallway, lined with a patterned rug, half-circle tables decorating empty parts of the walls, topped by vases filled with plants. They reached an elevator and Joyce pressed the down button, waiting in brief silence. Seeing the distance they had walked and riding the elevator to the top, it was a tough feat to comprehend how Joyce could have carried her all the way up here… “Did you really carry me all the way up here by yourself?” “Believe it or not, I did. I may not look strong, but I like to fit some exercise into my work breaks whenever I can. And you’re pretty light, I should add.” Was she really? Last time she had checked she weighed maybe about 110lb for being only 5’6”, but apparently Joyce really did work out for that to be doable. Not only that, but how could she be this heavy of a sleeper? Her thoughts were interrupted by the ding of the elevator opening--no one being inside to greet them. Pressing the ground floor button, Emily watched as the digital number descended from 27 to 1. The entire time, all Emily could hear was Joyce’s soft humming, a tune she’d grown quite accustomed to. She didn’t know what it reminded her of, but it was soothing nonetheless. The doors opened, and they rounded the corner into a very wide lobby with a shorter than expected ceiling. It came off as very minimalist: just enough to make the place look nice, but not feel cluttered. But it was all relative, of course. She may have called it minimalist, but it was leagues upon leagues better than the lobby to her old place. There was a large black rug leading to the entrance, and black leather couches for waiting lined on top of the white marble floor. They walked past a desk worker and straight to the door, where a doorman was already waiting with an open door. “Thank you, Charles.” Joyce politely thanked him in a reserved tone--nothing like how she spoke to Emily. With her, there was a sense of...care in her voice when she spoke. But to this man and like the one who complained to her for being late, she seemed to be more or less stone cold to them. There was gratitude, but also...distance. Out on the sidewalk a black car was parked and waiting for them. A chauffeur was holding the backseat door open, and Joyce gave Emily the privilege of sliding in first. Joyce followed suit and slipped in next, having the door shut behind her. The chauffeur entered the driver’s seat and politely asked, “Where will it be tonight, Ms.Summers?” “Carmine’s.” Was all Joyce said. “Sure thing. We should be there soon.” A divider suddenly rose between them and the driver, allowing the two some privacy. The windows were also tinted as well, reminding Emily of the movies where the bad guy would always unroll the window to his limo to talk to the protagonist. Other than that, Emily could almost instinctively feel the tension around Joyce dissipate now that they were alone. “Sorry about that. I didn’t tell the driver in advance where we were going.” “That’s fine…” Emily was still taking in her new situation. “What kind of place is Carmine’s anyways?” “Italian. If my cooking already wasn’t a tell, I’m quite fond of the cuisine...and wine.” Emily harbored no objections to the choice in food. If Joyce figured it was worth showing, it was more than likely out of this world compared to Emily’s standards. Staring out of the window at the city nightlife, it was a spectacle to be seeing all of this from the other side. Not once had she driven a car in the city for the time she had been there. Her job paid well enough, but not enough to support the upkeep of a car in the city. Buying one was one thing, but paying the price to conveniently store it and gas upkeep was another. To Emily it was far more convenient to rely on walking and public transportation. After about 15 minutes of driving the car came to a halt, the driver coming around to let Emily and Joyce out of the vehicle. Without even looking back at him, Joyce said: “Come back to pick us up in a couple of hours.” “Yes ma’am.” Without question, and like an obedient servant, the chauffeur got back into the car and pulled back onto the road. Staying close by Joyce’s side, they weaved through the passerby on the sidewalk. Stepping into the restaurant, the walls were decorated with traditional landscape photos and art of iconic locations and sights from Italy. The place was packed with people as equally dressed for the occasion as they were, if not more. Walking up to the receptionist with a book set on his podium, he was busy reading through the list to give Joyce any notice. “Do you have a reservation?” He asked, his eyes still busy inspecting the paper. “I’m sorry, I’m afraid we don’t.” His expression didn’t change, but he already seemed ready to turn them away. “But I was hoping you’d be able to squeeze my friend and I here into one of your booths, perhaps?” “My apologies ma’am, but we cannot seat you without a-” His voice trailed off as he finally took the time to see who he was speaking with. “Ms.Summers! It’s wonderful to see you again! Please forgive my rudeness a moment ago, you know how the regulations are!” He tried to laugh off what looked like a big mistake. “No problem at all. So is a booth doable for us tonight?” Joyce didn’t seem fazed by his attitude, not that Emily could understand why their interaction seemed so off. Had Joyce forgot to make reservations? “Most certainly! Please, come this way.” Personally, the receptionist escorted them to a booth in the corner of the restaurant. Emily couldn’t help but notice Joyce’s face had gotten a few more heads to turn. Just who was she in the public eye? The man handed each of them a meal and drink menu, plates and silverware already being set up for them. “Please do take your time. Whenever you are ready, just flag down one of the servers, they’ll be sure to forward your order immediately. And also, you ladies are both looking quite lovely tonight.” Joyce playfully laughed at his remark as he walked away, and Joyce quickly turned back into the person Emily so familiar with. Emily leaned in and asked, “What was that all about?” “Oh, him? Nothing to worry about. I’m a bit of a…’valued guest’ here. Good friends with the owner.” “Okay...but some of the people eating here looked like they knew you too?” That ‘high position’ was starting to sound a bit higher... “Some of their new items sound absolutely delicious, don’t they?” Joyce politely dodged her question, looking busy with the menu, and also dropping a hint that she didn’t want to talk about that right now. “Anything look good to you?” Emily looked down the menu, doing her best to avoid the prices that followed them. There was some stuff on here she had never even heard of before. What was an ‘ossobuco’? “I’m not really sure…” Emily admitted. “I don’t even know what some of the stuff on here is…” “Pick whatever sounds good to you hon,” Joyce already put down the food menu. “It’s my treat, so feel free to explore if you so choose. Don’t forget we’re here to celebrate.” Emily browsed her menu for a little bit longer and finally decided on a plate of what she thought was pasta. Yes Joyce had just made it for her a few nights ago, but she didn’t want to risk wasting food this expensive on Joyce’s dime. “And what do you want to drink?” Joyce asked her next. “Oh, um...I’ll let you choose for the both of us.” Already feeling challenged enough by the food menu, she wasn’t going to try and tackle the wine choices next. Joyce merely smiled at her answer, continuing to browse. “Did I say something weird?” Emily had no idea what she’d done to amuse Joyce. “Nothing. It’s just you being yourself, that’s all.” Was that a good thing? Or a bad thing? It didn’t sound mocking, but that didn’t make it any much more clear to her. Completely unsure, Emily pried a bit more. “What do you mean by that?” “It’s one of the many things I really appreciate about you, Emily,” She looked from her menu to the girl. “In my line of work it’s hard to meet people as nice as you without them having an ulterior motive. The difference between you and everyone else being that I’m the one who found you, and I know you’re trustworthy.” “I mean, how can you be so sure?” Emily was starting to become a bit embarrassed from such high praise. “For one, you didn’t try robbing me on day one. Two, no matter what I do for you, you always try and fight tooth and nail to somehow repay me for what I do. And three, even when I tell you to lean on me, you’re always so self-conscious about being the perfect house guest. It’s simply adorable!” The ‘adorable’ part felt a bit off, but it was still honest compliments from Joyce and that made Emily feel all the better. “Thank you Joyce, that means a lot to me. I’m...I’m glad I met you.” “Likewise.” It didn’t take long for Joyce to flag down a waitress and submit their orders under her name, leading to their meals arriving at most maybe half an hour later. A different waitress came with their meals, and then back again with a large bottle of red wine, pouring a fair amount in each of their glasses. The food was unsurprisingly delicious. Even more than Joyce’s cooking, would you believe it. Had she been told that there was something better than Joyce’s cooking a few hours ago, Emily would have likely called bull. Joyce could see the pleasure on Emily’s face, as after each bite there was a small window reserved for only the occasional sip of wine. “Slow down there kiddo, we’re not in any rush you know.” Joyce laughed as she took a few bites from her own plate, moving onto her second glass. Soon, Joyce turned her head away to see a larger man approaching them, dressed in a chef’s attire, someone who Joyce instantly recognized. “Antonio!” “Ms.Summers!” Joyce stood up from her seat to give the big man a proper hug. “It’s so good to see you back in my restaurant again! Why didn’t you tell me personally? I would have had you in the VIP room ages ago!” “Oh Antonio, sometimes I like to try living life on the ‘normal’ side,” she joked. Emily couldn’t help but laugh at the irony of her statement. Joyce’s ‘normal’ was Emily’s once in a lifetime experience. “Either way, allow me to at least serve you and your friend some of my special wine? Free of charge!” The chef’s voice boomed throughout the restaurant, catching the attention of a few people sitting nearby. “Well, I couldn’t possibly turn down a bottle if it was recommended by you Antonio! I’m sure we’ll love it!” “Magnifico! I’ll send it to your table after you’ve finished your entrées! A great way to end the night! Bah! Listen to me talk, interrupting your time together! Please, please, finish your dinner and enjoy the rest of the night.” Antonio then turned back towards the kitchen, and the two were alone once again. “Just how popular are you?” Emily took a quick glance at the rest of the restaurant, everyone seeming to have resumed their own dinner conversations. “I already told you, I know the owner of this place. He just came to see me, that’s all.” Joyce maintained her relaxed tone as she treated the encounter as commonplace. “And he really does have great wine. You’ll be sure to like it, I’m positive.” Emily wasn’t much of a wine drinker, nor was she a high-class restaurant goer either, but tonight was certainly full of exceptions. They traded bites of their food, both being equally pleased with the other’s choice--not that anything they served here could even be considered bad. While Emily started her second glass of wine, Joyce was already on her third, showing no signs of change at all in her composure as she took a sip from her glass. On their last round, the glasses were soon empty and so were their plates. Their table was cleared and then came a small plate of what looked like gelato with a light chocolate sauce striped across it. The gelato itself had a strange pink tint to its whiteness, and was decorated with a graham cracker-looking type of square, sticking out of the side, looking oh-so absolutely delicious. On each side a small spoon was already plunged into the sweet-looking treat, and a bottle of wine came grasped in the hands of the chef they met earlier. “Antonio, you didn’t have to get us dessert too!” Joyce exclaimed as she seemed to be eyeing the gelato as well. “Nonsense! How do you expect to enjoy my wine without something sweet to go with it? Not only can you share a drink, but a personal favorite dessert of mine as well!” He tore off the paper wrapping to the bottle, and used a corkscrew to open up the bottle’s contents. “Only the finest for my dearest customers.” He said, pouring the dark red substance into two new wine glasses. “Now please, I’ve disturbed you for long enough! Take the whole bottle for the night! I would not have it any other way!” “You’re far too generous Antonio! Please, keep some for your other clients.” “A bottle’s past its prime after the first time it’s been opened and drank, and therefore you must do me the pleasure of finishing it off! Hahaha!” He chuckled as he walked away. “I look forward to seeing you again, Ms. Summers!” A spectator to their conversation once again, Emily felt a tad bit giddy over the man’s generosity and insistence to make the night so special. What they had alone was enough, but to even push beyond that was amazing! Emily’s focus turned back to their dessert, and already the smallest bit of rich, creamy goodness had begun to roll off the top of the perfect scoop and pool at the bottom of the plate. She couldn’t wait any longer for a taste as she went for her spoon, but was cut short when one was already inserted into her mouth. Following the handle, she saw Joyce had already made the first move, feeding a spoonful to her currently hypnotized friend. Joyce slipped out the spoon with a grin as Emily’s mouth didn’t allow the frozen dessert to leave like the spoon, and swallowed. Absolutely amazing. It slowly melted at the touch of her tongue, as little gelato warriors in chocolate sauce armor assaulted her innocent and vulnerable taste buds. Her face melted into pure ecstasy as she completely digested the small sample. Joyce looked quite happy to have seen the spectacle, but Emily was too preoccupied to even mind. She wanted another bite, and badly. “I can take it by the look on your face it’s quite good?” Joyce stifled a laugh as she took a spoonful for herself. Joyce had a similar reaction, albeit much more reserved, quite pleased with the taste as well. Emily took a sip of her wine next, followed suit by Joyce, to receive a just as amazing taste. The residue and aftertaste of the cream was washed away by the flavor of grape mixed with the light taste of alcohol, cleansing her throat with sweetness. The drink was beyond delicious! It was not sweet nor bitter, and had just the right consistency to be the perfect accent to their dessert. Emily had to reconsider her thoughts on wine after trying something as amazing as this, but to achieve this kind of quality would probably be a bit out of her budget. “To a wonderful night, and our pleasant meeting.” Joyce raised her glass towards Emily, who returned the gesture with the clinking of glass. “To us.” Emily giggled. The two were making good on Antonio’s request to finish off the the entire bottle of wine. After a good amount of refills later from the both of them, the bottle became quite light in the ice bucket, and so did their heads. The gelato was finished off and Joyce’s cheeks were a slight bit redder than they were on the way in. Clearly a little bit intoxicated, Joyce was a bit more giggly around Emily, though she still maintained her composure towards others, like when calling for the check. Emily had done her best to limit herself, but she was feeling the buzz a little bit as well, knowing she was past her normal threshold. Their check came quickly, and Joyce slipped a black card into the pocket of the check holder without hesitation. The transaction was quickly processed and had the girls on their way in only a few minutes. “Joyce, I had such an amazing time,” Emily said, walking by Joyce as she held open the door for her; a torrent of cold, city air washing over her. As if he knew, the chauffeur was already waiting with the car door open, the two slipping in and headed home. “Emily, you have no idea how much I love having you here…” Joyce sighed as she stared off in clouded thought. “Er, thanks, Joyce…” Emily wasn’t sure how to take the compliment, whether Joyce meant it 100%, or if that was partially the alcohol talking. “I mean it,” She turned to face Emily. “It can just feel so...lonely at times being in that apartment alone. I know I helped you, but you have repaid me in full with your kindness and company…” Did she really feel that way about her? Emily couldn’t help but feel happy over such kind words. Here she thought herself to be a complete freeloader, when in-fact she’d been doing something in return all along… The rest of the drive was silent as they pulled up to the front door of the apartment building. They stepped out of the car while Emily took a second to find her land legs from all the alcohol she’d had that night. Joyce seemed to be taking it like a champ, however, drinking even more than Emily, and not showing so much of a sign in her motor skills. Just her emotions, mostly. “Home, sweet home!” Joyce half-shouted as they walked into her apartment. Emily closed the door behind them, kicking off the shoes Joyce specially ordered for the night. Emily eyed Joyce as she shuffled off into the kitchen, noting the subtle, yet obvious differences when she was drunk. If anything she seemed more relaxed, yet still had this...maternal vibe about her. They were certainly friends, but Emily could always feel this motherly aura linger around Joyce. Not that it was a bad thing… “I need to go undress.” Emily announced, walking to the room she’d been staying in. Everything felt a bit wobbly; still trying to assume her not-drunk self for long enough to just take her dress off. She scanned her hand across her back, trying to search for the tiny zipper that kept her locked in the dress that hugged her torso so well. It had almost been a minute of searching, and Emily’s heightened emotions got the better of her as she was becoming visibly and audibly frustrated. “Come on...come on...damn it! Stupid zipper!” She sat down on the bed to take a mental breather, so not to throw a complete fit over something so trivial. “Everything alriiight?” Joyce popped her head in, her shoes being taken off as well. “No,” Emily pouted. “I can’t find this damn zipper on my back. Could you do it please?” “Let me see what I can do sweetie…” Sweetie? That was a new one. Emily stood up, while Joyce ran her finger up and down Emily’s back, searching for the zipper. The feeling was pleasant, having such sensitive areas touched by someone else...But then it stopped, feeling the light tug as Joyce pulled at the zipper. “Down we go…” Joyce cooed as the zipper slowly followed suit. “Joyce, I think you’re a bit out of it…” Emily said, uncertain of the new person she could feel behind her right now. “And next we slip off the dress!” Joyce playfully continued, lowering Emily’s dress and exposing her in just her underwear. “Um, that’s enough Joyce. I just needed you to get the zipper.” Emily said, starting to feel a little uncomfortable. “Shhh…” Emily grew wide-eyed as she felt Joyce’s arms loosely wrap around Emily’s neck. “Let Mommy get you all ready for bed…” “Joyce! Stop!” Emily was suddenly shouting, shoving Joyce away. Emily stared at Joyce from her bed, dress at her ankles as she was practically naked in her underwear, unsure of who she was staring at right now. Joyce came to her senses too, her sober thoughts catching up just a bit too late before the damage had already been done. She stared at Emily in disbelief of what she’d just done to the poor girl. “I-I’m so sorry Emily, I don’t know what…” Her voice couldn’t find the words as Emily still looked confused and scared. Voice choking on tears, Joyce could only mutter an apology as she left Emily’s room, shutting the door behind her. Idiot! idiot! idiot! Joyce couldn’t hold back the tears after she left Emily’s room, locking herself in her own. She laid down in her bed, sobbing for her mistake. Why did she do it?! Joyce internally berated herself, angry for doing what she did. Tonight was supposed to be special! So why? Why did she have to let her deepest desires get the better of her? Please forgive me, Emily. Joyce teary-eyed, laid into her pillow, chasing out her fantasies and replacing them with terrible thoughts; flashes of her likely now permanently-damaged friendship. Even if she couldn’t have Emily in the way she really wanted, she didn’t want to lose such a precious friend...Emotionally unstable, Joyce wept silently until she tired herself out, and fell asleep in her dress from the night that had taken a turn for the worse. 4 - Confessions Emily groggily stepped out of her room with a throbbing headache. Like with the fallout of any fun night, it was never pleasant. She hoped Joyce had an aspirin or something to make the pain go away… Mommy. She suddenly felt herself become uncomfortable after remembering last night’s events. Yes, she was confused, and yes, she was a little freaked out. But this was Joyce she was talking about. Maybe just she wasn’t the best with alcohol, or something...Emily racked her brain with reasoning for some kind of excuse or explanation that could somehow make her feel better about last night. It was 10:00 AM and Joyce wasn’t anywhere to be found. Emily grew a little worried over not being able to find her. She wanted to talk about last night, and do something to get rid of these negative feelings about Joyce. She wanted to do anything in her power to know somehow that last night was a misunderstanding, and they could still be friends. Hopefully Joyce felt the same...Longingly she stared at the couch where they would always lounge about together. Why did things have to be this way? Joyce rapidly typed away on her keyboard in her office, quite a distance away from her home--from Emily. She couldn’t bear to face Emily right now...not after what she’d done to her. Joyce didn’t even know how Emily felt about last night...She was such a terrible person, leaving a small and confused girl without any context about last night. She must be- No no no! Stop thinking about it! Joyce started typing faster, trying to occupy her mind from such thoughts. She still felt the lingering hangover, the curse that tempted her into slipping Emily into her own personal fantasy; taking advantage of her like that, how could she? Joyce could feel the tears coming. No matter what she did, she couldn’t stop thinking about last night. She didn’t even come in on Saturdays, but she was willing to do anything to get these awful thoughts out of her head. She wanted everything to go back to normal. Where she would come home to see Emily peacefully lazing about, so she could know that she had someone to come home to--to care for-. Joyce suddenly stopped typing, covering her face as she couldn’t keep her emotional front up. It was the best having Emily in her home, but all those times she called her a friend she really knew what she meant on the inside. She was lying to herself. What she had with Emily was only a tease of what she truly wanted. She wanted to be friends, but in reality, she just couldn’t bring herself to admit how much she wanted Emily in that way! God, please make these awful thoughts stop! Emily could only pace around the house as she was filled with more and more uncertainty. She didn’t know where Joyce had gone, how she was feeling, or what she herself should do. Was she supposed to leave? Was this her way of saying to leave quietly? Frustration pushed her over the edge, as she wasn’t able to reach the one person who could answer these questions. Her cellphone was still broken, and Joyce did have a house phone, but Emily had no idea who to call to find her whereabouts. Emily was absolutely powerless and she hated it. The hours passed from 11 to 12, and then to 1. From 1 to 2, and from there to 3. It had been five hours since Emily woke up, and her mild feelings of unrest only grew into a small panic for her dear friend. She hadn’t left her, had she? No, that was impossible. This was her home after all. Emily was still in her pajamas from this morning; purple-striped shorts with a thin short-sleeve to match. Another outfit Joyce had bought for her… Emily couldn’t understand why she was experiencing these feelings she felt. The more time she had to stew on her own, it meant the more time she had to convince herself last night that Joyce’s “roleplay,” as Emily reasoned it, was something she probably didn’t want to show her...Was that all? Emily hoped so, because if it were, it would be only a small mishap that did nothing to their friendship! She stopped for a second to consider another thought: what would it take to threaten their relationship? Emily shook the idea out of her head, doing her best to stay positive. All she wanted to do was see and talk to Joyce… Deep breaths. Deep Breaths. Joyce tried to calm herself as she walked down the hall to her apartment. Why was she so scared? It was her home. Emily was a guest there! Or so she told herself, knowing very well she was scared nonetheless to see Emily. Joyce could imagine it now: Emily had probably already packed up her things and left; a sensible thing to do. She was already gone, and their friendship came to an end like that. All on account of Joyce’s foolishness. Reaching her door, heart beating a mile a minute, Joyce braced herself for the worst and most likely outcome in her head as she turned open the lock and opened the door. It was silent. She’d be able to hear the sound of a pin hitting the floor. That’s it. She’s gone. You stupid, stupid-! Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of feet rushing across the floor, still registering the sound of running before she could feel herself be embraced in the arms of a black-haired girl that came up to just above her chest. “Emi…” Joyce was beyond surprised to see her in front of her right now, much more in her arms. “Where have you been?” Joyce could hear Emily choking back a few tears. She had hurt her even further. Joyce’s heart broke to pieces. Joyce returned Emily’s embrace and hugged her tightly as well. “I’m so sorry, Emily,” Joyce maintained her composure and did her best to stay strong. “Last night I crossed a line with you, and…” “Please!” Emily interrupted her, turning her head to get the words out properly. “Just talk to me. I want to know what happened. I haven’t been able to reach you all day!” Joyce kept beating herself internally, no evident she kept Emily so isolated. She had the convenience of being able to leave with her thoughts, whereas Emily was forced to sort them here. Emily had proved her wrong once; it was only right to come clean with her. “Okay.” Emily loosened her grip around Joyce to give her some space, her heart rapidly pounding in her chest. Why was her heart beating so fast? Why did she feel so relieved to see her again? Nothing made sense, but now knowing that Joyce was still here put her somewhat at ease. “Let’s just, sit down first…” Joyce started to feel a bit uneasy again, having to give one of the biggest confessions in her life, to someone she started to feel increasingly sensitive towards. The pair walked over to the couch, unsure of what Joyce had to tell her. Emily didn’t know what to expect, but this kind of build-up instinctively made her feel that it was significant. Emily sat on one end of the couch while Joyce did the other. There was a bit of silence between the two, while Joyce looked more focused than she had ever in the time Emily had known her. “I…” Joyce’s voice fell flat. “I...have feelings for you…” Emily could see Joyce’s cheeks blush, as she pensively stared into her lap. Emily for some reason felt her heart strike a chord, hearing that, unsure of the turmoil in her own chest now. “But, what I want to tell you even more...After I tell you, I’m afraid I don’t know what it’ll be like between us…I’m scared of what might happen between us…” Emily felt scared too, but the feelings to stay connected were even stronger than that. She couldn’t deny her own uncertainty as well, but she wanted to dive in headfirst, believing nothing could damage their bond. “Please,” Emily said. “Tell me.” Joyce took another moment, still avoiding Emily’s eyes. She took a deep breath, and put everything on the line. “I have a...fetish…” There was no turning back now. A fetish? All sorts of people had fetishes, what was the big deal? And how did it involve Emily? “Okay. It’s totally fine if you have a-” “No, I still haven’t been clear yet…” Joyce seemed to tear up a bit, revealing her true self to the first person in over a decade of knowing. She wished more than anything she could stop there, but Pandora’s Box had already been opened. It was the first time she’d ever exposed herself, face-to-face to boot. “I have a...caretaker fetish…” Her voice started to grow quiet from embarrassment. “...A mommy fetish…” She hated every moment of it. Her words felt vile and vulgar. She could only imagine how disgusting she looked now. But she knew it had to be done for the sake of moving forward. For better or worse. A mommy fetish? What...what did she mean by that? Is that why she referred to herself as “mommy” last night? “Last night was about that…” Joyce suddenly broke the silence, as if reading her thoughts. “I…” Joyce openly choked back some tears as the thoughts of self-disgust spread to her face. “I think about you as more than a friend…” She sobbed. Emily wasn’t sure why, but she could feel herself starting to cry too. She couldn’t understand what was going on, but she wanted to somehow alleviate Joyce of the pain she was feeling right now. She wished she could have done anything for her sake right now. “Emily,” Joyce cleared her throat. “In the time we’ve been together...I’ve been fantasizing about us non-stop...wishing I could...could…” Emily waited in silence, and unsure of how to help her finish. Her thoughts were moving faster than she could process the information being given to her. “...baby you.” She said it. The hardest part was over. “Non-stop, I’ve been wanting to take care of you, on a much more...intimate level…” Take care of her? Baby her? The entire concept was foreign to Emily, and she didn’t understand entirely, but was able to see how important this was to Joyce, and that made it matter to her. Is that why Joyce seemed so motherly though? Was it because she had this kind of fetish or was it that Emily was being drawn into it? Or both? Regardless, the idea wasn’t a turnoff, rather, an unknown idea... “I know you’re an adult, and you have every right to be angry with me--but I just wanted to-” “Wait, stop.” Joyce’s voice halted on command, now trying to count the tiny, minuscule, holes she could see in the machined threading of her clothes; doing anything to occupy her mind. She felt ready to burst with anxiety. “I don’t completely understand what feelings you have for me.” Joyce felt bitter for what was likely to come next. “But...I don’t understand my feelings for you either.” What? She finally lifted her downward gaze, caught off guard yet again. “You said you have feelings like a mother for me…” It sounded even more repulsive, hearing it from another person’s mouth. How could anyone ever think of her as normal after confessing something like that? “I don’t know anything about this side of you…” Joyce waited. Then, she was suddenly pounced by the 110lb girl, pinning her on the couch. “But..” Her hesitant tone suddenly didn’t match her aggressive advance. “I want to try it with you.” Joyce had to have a double-take, so to make sure she heard Emily correctly. Her mind was still catching up, despite her body and heart already knowing the truth; fresh tears running from her eyes out of pure relief and happiness. As Emily’s hair dangled over Joyce’s face, she could see the tears beyond her glasses and she seemed to be in pure bliss. Emily had no idea what she was getting herself into. But the fact that it wasn’t necessarily a turnoff, and more so the unknown is what tempted Emily to take the plunge. What wasn’t knowingly hurting her, and only putting Joyce at ease was all that mattered. She would be Joyce’s baby any day if it could made her feel like this. A monstrous weight had been lifted off of Joyce’s shoulders. Minding herself so carefully as to how she acted around Emily, it was all okay now. The feelings of acceptance from who she felt such a deep maternal love for felt better than any sensation she’d ever experienced in her life. The two laid there on the couch as Joyce pulled in the girl who now had such a special place in her heart. To some, a fetish could be only temporary feelings for while they are in the mood, but to Joyce it was an undying desire that was part of her very personality, and something she wanted to be part of her lifestyle. Never would her feelings for Emily wane, and she would never, ever let her girl feel alone ever again. For that brief moment, everything felt perfect, and an unbreakable bond had been formed. Emily was simply happy to be emotionally reunited with Joyce again, and felt as if their bond had been deepened and renewed after such a stressful trial. And the more she thought about it, the idea of being loved by Joyce in such a way piqued her interest in a way she’d never felt before. The more she thought, she herself never had a “fetish” before. Maybe this could be it? Either way, the two just laid there in each other’s arms, as they began a new chapter in their lives together. In a single night their relationship felt as if it went under a special transformation they had both come to appreciate. It was the perfect night to make up for such a terrifying one before. “Now come on,” Joyce had dried away most of her tears. “Let me make us something to eat.” Happy to go back to their routine, Joyce cooked another pleasant meal while Emily laid there on the couch. Being so much more open with herself, Joyce couldn’t help but smile knowing now she had someone to truly dote on and could be honest with. It was a mild form of satisfaction to the levels she wanted to take things, but after tonight, Joyce felt that those kinds of goals weren’t as impossible as she thought. The two enjoyed dinner like any other night, and Joyce had promised to go into further detail in the morning; tonight already taking such a toll on the both of them. It just felt so good, knowing it was alright to take charge now…After dinner, Joyce changed into her own pajamas where the two spent the rest of the night on the couch watching tv like any other night. Only this time, Emily’s head was resting in Joyce’s lap, their connection feeling quite pleasant to Emily as well. It went on like that until Emily was the first to fall asleep again, Joyce being more than happy to carry her special girl off to bed. “So, what does being your baby entail?” Emily pensively asked. She was loaded with questions, and was urged most by curiosity than fear. “Well…” Joyce was still adjusting to being so open about what she was used to hiding for years. But Emily’s acceptance wanted her to be more open. “For one thing...I would have you wear diapers…” Emily felt a bit awkward hearing that. Of course she expected it, but hearing it finally be put out in the open still felt strange. “Okay…” Emily said. “Will I have to...use them?” Emily knew she it was a stupid thing to ask, but she couldn’t help but want to clarify just how she would be treated. “Ideally...yes…” Joyce felt a little bit uncomfortable as well. “For all intents and purposes...at some point, at least.” It was difficult to comprehend what it would be like pissing and messing herself, Emily strangely pondered the thought. Admittedly it didn’t sound very thrilling, at all. The last time she did that was before she was even old enough retain the thought of remembering what it was like to use diapers…Guess she would be finding out soon enough. But diapers were diapers. Taking the first step was for Joyce, she’d see where it went from there. “What else would I have to do or wear?” Was being a baby hard? She’d have to do her best to make this pleasant for Joyce. “Apart from diapers, whatever I clothe you in.” Clothe her? Then again, Joyce did say she wanted to mother her, which didn’t sound all that bad--being cared for. “But all I want from you is for you to enjoy yourself. I may find pleasure in babying you...but I want you to find pleasure in me babying you as well...” Emily couldn’t believe the terms Joyce was setting here. It only felt like to Emily that she was supposed to be benefit from Joyce’s kink, and Joyce was simply caring for her even more than she already did. But it being so unconventional was what made it a kink, Emily reminded herself. It was weird thinking that her own happiness made Joyce happy, but if that’s what it took, Emily was prepared to explore this uncharted territory. “It would come with dressing you, changing you, bathing you...and feeding you.” Emily could almost imagine the orchestrated scenes, popping through her head, only feeling curiosity for them rather than distaste. She figured that was a good sign. “And also...I might change a bit how I talk to you…” What did she mean by that? “What do you mean by that?” Emily asked, unsure. “In a tone more..age..appropriate.” Again, Joyce felt caught up, laying her intentions bare in front of the person she was going to do these things to. “Okay.” Hearing it from Joyce was one thing, but experiencing it was on a whole different level. There wasn’t much Emily could get out of a table discussion rather than experiencing the thing firsthand. “Do you have any requests from me?” Joyce asked. She wasn’t even entirely sure herself how their first time together doing this would be. She would need time to plan. “How often or long would we be doing this?” Emily wondered. She knew both of them had work which could interrupt long-term “play,” which wasn’t exactly bad to Emily, as she was currently fond of adulthood, and wouldn’t mind returning to it regularly. “Let’s just try it first, then we’ll see where to go from there…” Joyce decided, again, uncertain herself. If she were to take this seriously, she’d need to be much more decisive and prepared for her sake and Emily’s in the future. “Okay. Alright then,” Emily couldn’t think of anything that needed to come now; most of her questions either being trivial, or would ruin some kind of surprise Joyce may have already cooked up. “So when do we start?” “Since it’s already Sunday, I figured we should wait until this Saturday coming up. That way we both have time to prepare...mentally and physically.” Whatever that meant, Emily trusted Joyce. She was willing to be surrendered to her care if that meant she would be happy, and would even have Emily’s best interest at heart as well. It would be a long week in anticipation, but the both of them would tough it through. Who knew what Joyce had cooked in store. And so the week was quite slow, but with the help of Joyce’s chauffeur, Emily was commuted to and from work with ease, as the pair could meet each other at home each and every night. There was always dinner together and cuddles, but both of them knew with each passing day that their special time together was coming closer and closer. On the days Joyce came home before Emily, she would use the time to openly strategize and move some newly purchased items into her locked room down the hall... Late Friday night, when Emily had been carried to bed some time ago, Joyce reviewed her plan with satisfaction, and knew everything was ready to go. Joyce set her alarm clock for 9, and drifted off to sleep. For the both of their sake, Joyce would ensure that tomorrow was perfect.

https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07WGJ1H9X/ref=dbs_a_def_rwt_bibl_vppi_i3 BAD MOON RISING by CK Cute Kitten “This shit hole hasn’t changed much in a century.” The noise of the crowd swallowed Prudence’s mutter. Fair booths lined both sides of the street. The Fall Harvest Festival was like a Halloween themed farmers’ market. Some booths had games, but most sold homemade goods and sweets. Hand-knitted sweaters and blankets, apple and pumpkin butters, summer jams, hand pressed ciders, homemade fudge and candied apples. Warring scents assaulted her sensitive nostrils. Fried fair food -burgers, corn dogs- mixed with freshly popped kettle corn and pumpkin flavored cookies, cakes, pies and mingled with scents of homemade candles. This bouquet of smells was underscored by the sting of homemade alcohol. Shrieks of excited children pierced her ears and the pungent aroma of dirty diapers filled her nose, drowning out the other scents. Little sugar-crusted snot goblins ran everywhere, too fast for tired parents to keep up. Prudence nimbly side stepped the kids as she slid between the gaps of people milling about. Her slim hand slipped into pockets as she passed, occasionally coming out with money. Mostly chump change from the locals, but she got quite a few crisp twenty dollar bills from the visiting yuppies. And a few wedding rings she could pawn, though the gold was low quality and not worth much. Her haul was better than the last time she strolled down these streets, pick-pocketing at the turn of the century. Newton was a small town surrounded by farmland and woods. Cornfields and wilderness as far as the eye could see. That hadn’t changed much; now there was more farmed land, less woods. The town had expanded as the population grew. Dirt roads paved over. More automobiles. No more horses and buggies. Telephone polls. Street lights. Cell phones. Girls in pants. Main Street was still the largest street, running right through the center of town. A couple of fast food joints. A few diners. One grocery store. Some gas stations. Feed store. The three bars in town still stood in their same spots. The names changed and buildings were modernized. Her hometown was still just a backwoods scratch on a map. Just a newer version of the same old shit she’d left behind. Even the Halloween Carnival was mostly the same. The name had changed; somewhere along the line, it morphed into the Harvest Festival. Main Street still got closed off and shut down so booths, a spook house, bounce castles and a few carnival rides popped up. A maze of hay bales and tables for pumpkin painting. Prudence noted one big difference as she walked around; a big increase in the number of attendees. Farm families were too far apart, so they used to bring their children to town for trick or treating. Adults took advantage of the time to trade goods, thus spawning the Halloween Carnival. Now, city-dwelling yuppies, enamored with romantic idealizations of the quaint, wholesome, rustic country life flocked with their broods to the small town. They drove for an hour or more for the honest, simple country folk to fleece them with over priced, hand-made goods. Prudence couldn’t fault the locals for their business savvy. The yuppies were ripe for the plucking; big pockets, small brains. No common sense. City living bred it right out of them. Not that she was complaining. She smirked and patted the pilfered money in her own pockets. “This Halloween sucks.” Picking the pockets of idiots with their guard down was the only entertainment this town had. She’d never wanted nor planned to return. Only once had she come back, in the 1940’s to burn a few records of her past and erase some evidence. Local police had labeled those fires as Halloween pranks by deviant youth. One of those fires occurred a few streets away from where she stood now. She recalled a full harvest moon in a starless black sky and the orange flames turning day to night. That night had been a ill moon for the town. Tonight was a full moon on Halloween, too. She stuffed her hands in her pockets, feeling all her ill-gotten gains. “Looks like it’s another bad moon for you, baby.” She grinned to herself then laughed. Hicksville was boring as hell, but all that she hated about this place made it the perfect place to lay low. She had pissed off quite a few dangerous, powerful wolves when her latest, not-quite-legal, get-rich-quick scheme went bust. The law got involved. The law breakers were not happy. Now Prudence was laying low until the heat- both from the cops and the wolves- blew over. The crisp autumn breeze shifted. Red, orange, and yellow leaves fluttered about. Costumed kids shrieked, tiny hands grasping for the dancing leaves. The change in direction of the wind brought in scents of earth, of rotting vegetation, pine needles, and animal musk. The forest. Fresh cut hay and pumpkins from the fields. Pumpkins everywhere. Just like when she was a child. A human. Pru struggled to recall happy childhood memories. Fought for nostalgia as her feet once more trod the soil of her birth, both as a human then as a wolf. All she felt was nausea. She’d discarded her childhood as easily as she’d tossed her humanity. All she had left were vague memories. A screaming mother. Fighting siblings. So many siblings- faces and names all blurs. A father who always reeked of soured whiskey and who was heavy handed with his belt. Constant hunger in her belly. She shook her head, brushing the cobwebs from her mind. They weren’t worth remembering. She crossed the street to another row of booths, looking around aimlessly. Three little ball jointed dolls in a glass display case caught her attention. These were collectors’ items, not toys for children to play with and ruin. The dolls were little children dressed up for Halloween in exquisitely detailed costumes. The faces and hair were realistic looking; little replicas of real life. She almost expected them to blink, to giggle, to move on their own. She drifted closer to the booth, standing right in front of it. She never took her eyes off those hauntingly beautiful dolls. Childhood memories frozen in porcelain. “Like the dolls, dearie? Win them in a raffle. Only five bucks a ticket. Helps out the firemen.” A middle aged lady with gray streaks in her ponytail shook a roll of tickets in Pru’s face. Pru took an involuntary step back, blinking and shifting her focus onto the lady. A sense of deja-vu hit her and she was swept back to her childhood. The woman was a dead ringer for her old teacher in the local one-room school house. Mrs. Fisk had been a strict but fair schoolmarm. Most of the kids liked her. Prudence often was on the receiving end of Mrs. Fisk’s switch; neither teacher nor student had liked each other very much. This raffle lady had to be one of her descendents; a great great granddaughter or something like that. “I’ve never seen dolls that detailed. They’re almost life-like. They should be in some high-end store, not a prize at a fair. “ “I thought the same when I first saw them. Lucas is such a talented boy. He refurbished these from a thrift shop. He should’ve just sold them on ebay. His cousin Rosie said he insisted on donating them to the raffle when she dropped them off.” The lady shook her head. “The dolls have been a big help. These tickets sell like hot cakes. We just might be able to get that new equipment after all.” Prudence tuned her out as she prattled on. A boy created such a treasure from junk? She wondered what kind of person this artist who created such beauty was. Trash turned into art. She wanted to meet him. She was tempted to swipe the dolls, but they were at the back of the booth, under glass. And the lady watched them like a hawk. Too much trouble... But if an opportunity presented itself, she’d be ready to pounce. “You look really familiar. Are you related to a Mrs. Fisk?” The lady blinked, taken aback. “Fisk is my maiden name. I’m a King.” She looked up from her tickets, giving Prudence a long, hard look. “You look familiar, too.” She squinted. “I swear, I’ve seen you before. But I know you’re not from around here. I know all the locals.” Her voice took on a touch of pride. “Oh, I was born here, but I haven’t been back in ages. Left plenty of family, though. The Pipers still around?” “There’s a few. You’ve got the look of a Piper.” “They still causing trouble?” “Never stopped.” Prudence laughed. She liked the lady. Maybe she’d let the old bat keep her dolls, as a favor to the very late Mrs. Fisk. “What did you say your name was?” “I didn’t. It’s Prudence.” “Prudence Piper?!” The lady’s grey brows rose nearly up to her hairline in shock. Pru smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “Something wrong with that name?” “You don’t know who Prudence Piper was?” Pru shook her head. The lady rambled on. “Whoever in your family named you has a sense of humor. Prudence Piper is something of a local legend.” She leaned forward to stage whisper. “She was a notorious girl. A bootlegger during Prohibition. Rumor has it she had ties to the mafia. Al Capone’s sweetheart.” Prudence laughed at that. “I’m not so sure about that last part. But I bet the rest is true. Well behaved women rarely make history, after all. She sounds like a fun gal.” She gave the dolls once last look then drifted away.

So I know the retail game is in rough shape against online retailers these days. But humor me for a moment. I was on the road one day dreaming about the perfect AB/DL retail store. Now I've been into the one in Albany, and ive heard about Tykables and the one in Vegas but have never been to a full blown ABDL store. I couldn't help answer the question of what would a decent size store look like, how would it operate. So here are some of my ideas. Feel free to add your input! It starts outside at the customers view...medium to large warehouse with minimal windows and rear/side parking for privacy. Some sort of logo so you know your GPS didn't just take you to Rick's mattress outlet. Festive entryway that brightens the mood and spirit, which brings you to two additional door ways with “AB” on one, and “DL” on the other. The AB one could be decorated with Disney themes or similar artwork. DL has a comfortable but serious feel while walking down it. Both entryways lead to the Diapers! And the plot thickens! How about a “Nilla” waiting room for your significant other? The store has demo ABDL furnitures, dressing/ changing rooms, and I'll let you fill in the rest of the inventory. Lastly, there would be knowledgeable ABDL staff waiting to ring you out in the semi-private counters. “Don't forget to grab your free case of dips, with your buy 10 get one coupon”. Oh and extremely important the exit is separate from the entrance because awkward possibilitiness. What would you like to see?

I'm on NSC's mailing list that's targetted at the normal healthcare client. They did run a small blurb suggesting that "Why use boring white diapers" and suggesting some of their AB line.

Purchased Baby Boy Banker. Hopefully it helps Mikey.

I wonder if she did some more research while away as to why she was so forceful? I like it though and love seeing how this is developing

Thanks. Membership has been purchased. Please don't bother sending me any pin -- I have no use for them.

I started with diapers to control night time accidents when I was twelve and by high school, I was using pads in the daytime. after High school my bladder issue kept progressing so I experimented with condom catheters, I had a lot of issues with the condom pcs coming off when I moved and the job I had required climbing ladders the leg bag and tube always pulled and I could not find a good way to work and use the catheter in a way that didn't constantly have me worrying about it or having leaks. During that time I had a few surgeries to try to correct my bladder issues and each time they left me with an indwelling catheter for extended time for me to heal and I had a terrible time with them from painful bladder spasms, infections and other negative aspects for me. Both products prevented me from doing the job I enjoyed so Diapers were and still are the best product for me. these products certainly work fine for many but I just had a rough time with them.

Closing in on 6 years now I’ve never one time considered stopping. I’m doubtful I could. Those who binge and purge must be so conflicted about it. My suggestion would be to stop & just give in as you already know how good it feels each time it happens. For me the 2-3 times per 24 hour period leaves me with many hours with a filled diaper. Managing it is simple and nobody knows. I also do not consider it wrong but moreso the right thing to do.

School trousers feels so lil childish and naught

Hi onsl, I just started reading this thread last night. I’m really enjoying your insights and experiences and plan to continue to read about your progress. I myself am flirting with 24/7 although my SO says that I’ve been 24/7 for some time. I retired this past November and at the point I retired I was wearing disposable pull ups to work every day because the washable incontinence briefs I had been wearing to work were experiencing leaks due to overcapacity. I say I am flirting with 24/7 because some of the time I will pull my diaper down to use a toilet because it extends the life and lowers the cost. One tip I can tell you from hard experience is to keep an emergency change bag in EVERY vehicle you use. I have a motorcycle, a pickup and my girlfriends car. I keep a small paper bag with one clean disposable diaper, a travel pack of baby wipes and a small plastic disposal bag to put the used diaper in in all 3 vehicles. One day at work I had an episode of very loose #2 which ended up in my pull up on the way to the ladies room. After the accident I detoured from the ladies room to the outside door nearest my truck to retrieve my “accident bag”. I went to the ladies room and used the handicap stall and ripped the sides of the pull up to remove it. I was covered in excrement but didn’t have any baby wipes! This is not a good time to recognize that I didn’t think out every detail. It took sooooo much toilet paper to get everything off me. It took multiple flushes to keep the toilet from clogging up. I didn’t have anything to contain the smell of the dirty pull up. I went out that day and bought 3 of the very small portable baby wipes they sell for carrying in a diaper bag. I have small plastic bags that come on rolls and I put 1 in each of my “accident bags”. Now if I have a messy accident I have wet wipes to clean myself up with, a clean diaper to put on, I put the used diaper in the plastic bag and tightly knot it so the odor is contained and lastly I put the plastic disposal bag into the paper bag and roll up the bag. Now I can walk out of the stall without having to worry about anyone seeing me drop a diaper into the trash. The paper bag also gives me the ability to just take the bag out of the bathroom to dispose of elsewhere because the smell is contained. I hope my painful lesson helps you to avoid what I learned the hard way. Also I’ve found myself having more frequent # 2 accidents and you might want to give this some serious thought too. It’s my experience that because I leave my muscles relaxed and unclenched that my anal muscles are weakening too. This may be just my own experience but still bears consideration. Hugs, Freta

Well you all met and exceeded the like count! Here is the Epilogue to the story! Epilogue: “NO MATTER WHAT keep your dreams alive, because without them you’ll never remember your destination!” the speaker finished the traditional commencement speech for our graduation at Emerson University. I looked around and could see the rows and rows of graduates behind me rising to their feet. Well, sort of – the huge TV screens that hung around the large indoor facility showed pictures high enough that I could see them above the platform. I had managed to reach graduation and was enjoying the accolades that came with that distinction. Names began being called, with mine being the seventh of those. “Stacy Slane Westerfield – Bachelors of Science in Computer Science – Magna Cum Laude!” I took my awkward stroll across the front area of the podium to receive the diploma that was actually almost as large as I was. I was so excited to have managed to make it to that stage and get that diploma, that I almost forgot to stop for my picture! “Come on Sweetie, smile for the camera!” The lady said as she pressed the shutter button and a flash went off. Something was off about the colors though, and I instantly sensed that without the protections I had there would have been hypnotic problems from something in that odd flash. ‘Great,’ I thought to myself, ‘make it to graduation and become an instant baby?!?’ “Congratulations,” Dean Sanders told me with a pat on my head as I passed by her to leave the platform. “Thank you Dean Sanders,” I told her with a smile. I impulsively hugged her legs right then, probably making every little wonder what the hell was wrong with me! As much as she was an evil woman, she had been kinder to me than I would have expected over the past few years. I figured it would also distract her from the lack of effect of the flash on me! She awkwardly patted my back and I continued back to my seat and enjoyed a quick view on a TV screen of her still stunned face. As I sat down I quickly got on my phone and sent a message to every little that was graduating that day. ‘The camera for your photo is rigged with something, close your eyes when they take it or something bad will happen!’ I was careful not to be seen as I sent it, but grateful that as littles came across the stage it seemed everyone followed that advice. There were only thirteen littles from my class that had even made it to graduation - ten of them were my Lambda Delta Pi sisters. One odd boy managed the feat, but he was also almost a betweener in height, so I think that helped him seem less adoptable. The other girl constantly looked on edge and was as skittish as a mouse, but managed to hide and blend in well enough to keep out of trouble. When everyone had been called to receive their diplomas the university president spoke for another moment. He gave us our final graduation speech and our hats flew through the air! I didn’t hesitate before I began hustling through the crowd to find Amanda and Fred. I had just about reached them when a tall brunette amazon girl picked me up, “Where do you think you’re going little girl? I’m sure after such a long big girl ceremony you have poopy pants! Let’s get them clean and then I’m going to have to take care you forever!” “Put me down,” I told her, “My mommy is right there and if I do need a change she’ll do it!” “Your mommy?” the girl asked, “What a load of shit – just like your diaper’s filled with!” I sighed but used a technique I had learned to twist out of her arms and kicked her ankle out from under her. I didn’t look back to see the broken ankle as she screamed in pain behind me. I ignored the stunned stares of those around me and just skipped to Amanda and put my arms up in the air to signal I wanted to be picked up. Beside her Fred held Bella, and Megan held an adorably dressed Meg. The diaper under the skirt of her dress was just a little bit visible with the way Megan held her, but I knew neither of them cared at this point. It had been startling to me, and more than a bit confusing when Meg had decided to suddenly begin seeking a safe adoption that last fall of our studies. She agonized over if she could pick someone instead of the other options, when we found out she could I had suggested Megan. She’d graduated two years earlier, had a good job, and a small house. Meg tended to be called Meggy more these days just to make discerning the two easier. She was diapered, and somewhat babied, but she was more like Bella or myself in that she was able to do whatever she wanted to at home. Really Megan and Meg played more video games together than engaged in a mommy and baby relationship! There had clearly been no future for her on her own though, and I was glad that at least it seemed to be working out for both of them. Megan had been the tougher party to convince as she had been so against adopting a little. In the end ‘best friends’ with mothering duties had to suffice to convince her. Last I knew Megan had even agreed begrudgingly to nurse Meg when she hadn’t stopped pestering her about it. I suspected her leaking boobs hadn’t left her with much choice! “Congratulations!” Amanda said with the hug as she scooped me up. I enjoyed the attention of my family as we stood around, and I was passed from one member to another. I said a number of tear filled goodbyes to a few friends and sorority sisters who saw me on the way to the car. I was sat in the carseat for what I knew would be my last moments with my adopted family. Amanda took the chance to change my diaper on in the back of the car when we arrived at the portal. “I’m going to miss you so much!” She told me as she hugged me tight. “I’m going to miss you too,” I told her. We could and would still take time to talk via the dimensional portal we decided, but my student visa was up the day I graduated – today. If I stayed any longer, then I wouldn’t be able to walk back through the portal ever again due to violating immigration laws! Fred took my bags, while Megan carried Bella and Meggy on her hips. The two of them had become good friends over the past few years. Meggy had been coming over to our house to work with me on homework and to get away from the crazy dorms up until she gave up being a student. She had been stunned when she realized that Bella had been allowed to sew anything she wanted in a secluded room in the house. Almost all of our clothing was made by her in the last year! Granny and Grandpa joined us at the doors to the portal. The automatic doors opened with Bella and Meggy setting off the alarm sensors… but not me. We had never fixed the Venture removal of the tag. It had been risky, but it saved us questions now. Once both were verified to be Amanda and Megan’s littles and we were allowed to the departure counter. I went through a similar process of going through an airport check-in. My family was able to walk me to the security lines, but only Amanda could pass that point with me. “I love you all,” was all I could say through my tears. “I’m going to miss you all!” I told them and hugs were exchanged all around. I had a few small presents that they handed me that I quickly added to my luggage. Little jewelry pieces, pictures, cards, and a couple stuffed bears were tough to stuff inside the full bags, but I managed. Once it was all inside Amanda walked with me to the security scanners. My luggage had to be searched due to electronics being present. It was prohibited to take computers and the technology from this dimension back home. As far as they could tell though the only electronics that I had in the suitcase were the ones I brought with me… I giggled at that when they let everything through though. The computer chasis of my laptop was the same that I brought four years prior, but the laptop I was taking home had nothing in common with that old clunker! Through security a couple people stared at me dressed up still in my uniform and graduation gown. “Did she just graduate from pre-school?” One of the security guards asked us as we waited to put me through the portal. “College actually,” Amanda said and the man had a look like a fish for the moment I cared to look at him. As we neared the actual portal there were very few bigs to be seen. Most of the people were littles and mids like I remembered when I’d arrived four years prior. The visa on my passport was checked and I was soon the next person in line to walk through. “I love you so much Stacy, I’m going to miss you!” Amanda said giving me a big hug. “I love you too Mommy!” I told her. “Now get going home so you can get on with your life and your future,” she told me. It was a teary eyed face that I left her, walking through the portal and after a flash I found myself back on my home side of the portal. I shook my head for a moment and looked up at the person ahead of me. ‘Looked up?!?’ I thought to myself. I felt my gut wrench and an ice cold feeling in my veins as I looked around at the other people waiting in line at the customs desk and realized they were all taller than me. I nervously approached the customs table where the lady looked at me, “What’s with the gown?” “Err… I just graduated from college a couple hours ago, heading home.” “College?” She asked stunned taking in my appearance, but then shook her head and said, “Passport?” I handed it to her and she looked at the two visa stamps, “Wow, I haven’t seen anyone stay that long in the other dimension and return before! You were at college you say?” “Yes ma’am,” I said politely. “Why does your passport say you’re 5’10” and male?” I sighed, “Long story, it is my passport.” I handed over some other documents, “Here is some information from a doctor there.” “I get the gender change… I don’t have a problem with anyone transgendered, but what’s with the height?” I shrugged, “Does anyone really understand the physical effects the portals have on people?” She shrugged, “True…” “Well I’ve seen stranger returns from that dimension. Have you brought anything back with you that you need to declare?” I didn’t have much but I showed her what she asked about. As far as they were concerned there wasn’t much they worried about people coming back. She didn’t say anything when she saw the packs of diapers I’d packed inside to be safe. I was looking forward to getting to somewhere I could measure myself though – I definitely wasn’t 5’10” anymore! As she cleared me I didn’t hesitate in hurrying as best I could with the cart of luggage I had to the security gates outside. I saw my Mom and Dad and was a bit dismayed that they didn’t spot me at first. “Mom!!!” I said and ran to her to hug her. “Stacy?!?” She asked, “Shouldn’t you be taller?” “I should be…” I told her with a frown. She hugged me nonetheless and it brought home the fact that I was now significantly shorter than Mom. The top of my head only barely reached my mom’s chest. Disregarding my shrunken height though, Dad and my grandparents took turns wrapping me in tight hugs before we made our way out of the station and out towards the car. My Dad and Grandpa took care of carrying my luggage and I found my mom’s hand wrapped around my own as we walked to the car. I noticed several sharply dressed men and their eyes following us as we left. At the car one of them approached, “I’m Agent Kraft…” he said to me while flipping open a badge. “Stacy,” I said politely, “What can we do for you?” “I’d like you to come with me…” he said. “Not likely,” I told him and stepped closer to my dad and grandfather. “We can make your life very difficult…” he said, “we just want to insure…” “No, I’m not going with you, and I’ll deal with you harshly if you push it further,” I added. “No you won’t…” he said. “You can’t do anything to me or any of us…” I took a second and got on my phone and said, “I can’t? Agent Kraft? You live at…” I proceeded to give him his life story in a quick summary and his eyes widened. “I managed to graduate from Emerson in that dimension. You might say I think I’m smarter than anyone in this dimension at this point. Information is a powerful thing that I can do a lot with!” I smirked at him, “We’re leaving now, have a good day sir,” I told him. “Let’s go!” I said again. He moved out of the way and I stayed hugged protectively hugged in Mom’s arms standing next to her as Dad took care of the luggage. The agents glared at us from a distance away while Kraft called on a phone. When Dad was done loading everything I climbed into the back with my mom and grandmother and we drove to our house. Throughout the ride home Mom kept her arm protectively around my shoulder, probably afraid I wasn’t real or would disappear again! Every now and then she would tuck a hair back into place on my head. We’d styled my hair into a really pretty updo for graduation that would have made any teenager look older. Amanda had used some pretty crystal topped pins and pearl combs to hold it in place. I was pretty sure in the other dimension it had made me look cute and like the equivalent of a Toddlers and Tiara contestant, but I loved that Amanda had spent so much time on it! It was like a last gift from her really… I felt a tear in my eye thinking of my goodbye to her, knowing I would never again go back to that dimension to be hugged by her. ‘I can’t afford to shrink anymore…’ I reminded myself. Back my dad carried all of my stuff with my mom leading me to my bedroom. There I received a big surprise! Mom had spent time redecorating it to look right for a teenage girl, as opposed to the boy décor that had been there before. She had placed a full length dressing mirror on the back of the door and I stared at my image. I definitely didn’t look like the college bound boy who had left home four years prior! I stripped the graduation gown off my body and looked like I was about ten or twelve at most in the school dress I wore. My face had changed some during the trip, leaving me looking younger in the face again – not a baby, but definitely not a teenager! The lack of shape of breasts only reinforced that I looked like I was an elementary school girl rather than an adult! Dad showed up with a tape measure, “Umm… Stacy, why don’t we check and see how tall you are?” I nodded and stood against the door, knowing I was probably getting an extra inch from my shoes. “Take your shoes off?” Mom suggested. I sighed but reached down and pressed on the hidden release of the shoes and smiled that the portal officials hadn’t caught onto my shoes or knives hidden therein! They slid off my feet and I groaned at the loss of height of another two inches. I put them to the side and stood against a wall that my dad pointed to. He pulled out the end and pushed it to the ground while measuring the top of my head. I felt him push down on my hair and said, “Hey… don’t mess up my hair please Dad.” “Sorry sweetie, but I wanted to get an accurate measurement. With your hair you would be four foot four…” I groaned, “Without my hair?” “You’re only four foot two,” he told me. I felt tears then and Mom embraced me, “I’m sorry honey…” “What the hell happened?” Dad asked me after I calmed a bit. “Shouldn’t you have returned to the same height as when you left? We did on our trip!” I shrugged and sighed, “I think it’s probably a side effect from the nanites,” I told him. “I’ve seen them shrink people when you do changes with them… It never really did anything to me in that dimension though… I’m guessing my body is this way for at least the foreseeable future…” “Can’t you use the nanites to grow?” Grandpa asked. I shook my head, “No, unfortunately not right now… it’s an energy problem. The same reason I shrink if I adjust them too much, the energy has to come from somewhere.” I was so concerned about my size I almost forgot about other needs. Luckily mom’s instincts caught my problem, “Umm… Stacy… do you have a diaper on?” I jolted, ‘of course I did?’ I blushed as I said, “Yes?” “I think it needs changed,” she told me. I sighed and realized that I had left the dimension fully potty trained with an extra foot and a half… oh and I was male before. But those facts seemed to be in the past, all that mattered then was the pee that was dripping down my tights clad legs from the leaky diaper. Mom shooed everyone else out of the room and stood there as I moved towards where Dad had sat my backpack down on a dresser. I opened the bag and discovered to my relief that the diapers seemed to have at least sized up to my current size when I came through. I had known that potty training wasn’t going to happen much in the other dimension. While I’d been living with Amanda and Fred I just hadn’t put a lot of effort into it. My junior year I’d almost lost control of my bowels too, but just barely nipped that in the bud. One day I had just left the classroom of a class when I’d had a poopy accident! It hadn’t happened until I left, but I’d been about three seconds from major demerits! I’d put more work on that side after that at least! But I hadn’t really stopped to pee in a toilet in four years, so I wasn’t stupid – accidents were definitely in the forecast! “You have more diapers in there?” Mom asked from the edge of my room. “Yes,” I told her. “You want help?” She asked nervously. I looked at her and knew that my four year absence had to have nearly killed her. Then add to that I wasn’t the same person I was when I left… I shrugged, “Sure,” I looked around, “Here?” She grabbed a towel from the hallway real quick and laid it on my bed before patting on it. I took the hint and handed her the diaper and wipes before lying down. She pulled the wet tights I was wearing off, the skirt of the dress I had on up, and then ripped open the diaper. “Haven’t done this in a while…” she said. I smirked, “that’s what I thought the first time…” She wiped me carefully, exchanged the old diaper for a new one, taped it and then sat me up as the doorbell rang. “Who is it?” I wondered aloud. I didn’t have time to wonder though because Mom had barely walked out the door to figure out what to do with my wet pamper when Gabby walked up the stairs. I stared at her and she asked, “Do you know where…?” Her jaw dropped, “Wait…” she breathed in, “Stacy?!?!” I smiled, “Hi Gabby,” I told her. She walked towards me and embraced me in a hug, “I thought you were going to return to your old height when you came back?” I laughed, “Me too…” The two of us talked for a long while that night, and over the course of the couple days she accompanied my mom and I shopping for a new wardrobe for me. Most of what I had brought home fit without any problems, the issue was that it was mostly meant for a babied little. Crotch snaps and short dresses with bloomers hardly seemed appropriate for a girl who appeared to be nine or ten. We had settled on being generous and saying ten… A week after I returned the portal agents came to our house and attempted to basically badger our silence. “You seem to think you have the upper hand,” I told them across our dinner table. “We have way more money and power than you do,” an older gentleman said as if educating a young child the facts of the world. “Money? Probably… Power…?” I smirked, “Not so much.” He gaped at me then, “How could you ever think to match us? We have…” “Nothing really, not when certain files, and a documentary, that I’ve prepared on the treatment of visitors and littles in that dimension gets out to the public.” “You’d never be able to…” I laughed, “You realize I went to that dimension to study computers, right?” I smirked, “I already have fail safes setup both with physical copies and digital copies prepared to automatically be delivered to media companies, politicians, and just straight to several thousand website pages if anything happens to me.” “Bullshit,” a younger man called. The older man motioned his hand at him though, “My associate in the dimension mentioned you were not an insignificant foe. What will it take to keep you quiet?” “Leave me and my family alone. If you want to help me blend in get me some documentation that says I’m some sort of child prodigy who has graduated high school and college. A new birth certificate and social security card would be nice, but I don’t have a real desire to get into a mix with you. If I don’t make contact with people and devices regularly though, the information gets sent. I would just leave me alone if I were you…” The older man looked at me and nodded, “Fair enough, you’ll have your documentation. Fail to keep your silence though and we’ll be coming after you and your family and sending you all back to the dimension. My colleagues at Venture could use some new stock…” I changed my mind on tactics then and leaped over the table, pulling my knife out from my shoe and holding it to the man’s throat. “Do you know what I did to the last men from Venture?” He looked at me with fear in his eyes and I moved the knife closer to his throat to make my point to his other two associates who were rounding on me. My dad was shouting in the meantime and I said, “Enough!” I smiled at the man, “Did I make my point? If you ever try to threaten my family again I will end your life.” “Understood…” the man gasped. I stood up and walked to the door and opened it for the men to leave. “Stacy what the hell was that?” My mom yelled at me. “Mom, Dad… I guess I need to tell you more about my time than I told you…” THE MEN WERE as good as their word and I soon had a new birth certificate. The only thing about it that I didn’t like was that it said I was eight years old. I think they did it to tweak me a little in revenge! The diplomas were real enough, but the problem was no one would accept them. I began just doing work online like a little would back in the other dimension. I mostly refused to speak to clients, which was odd to many but I quickly gained a reputation as an amazing coder. The software projects I was putting out and working on were quickly making me, and my family, very rich. In particular I was developing AI systems for all sorts of industries that were so powerful they could all but think for themselves! I stayed in contact with Amanda and Fred off and on over the proceeding years. One of the first conversations was a little bit awkward though, “So Stacy… what did you do to your cousins?” I batted my eyelashes innocently, “What do you mean?” “This past weekend when we met at my parents house they could all walk again, had teeth, and could talk intelligently. My sisters were kind and absolutely showering them with affection… What did you do?” I had smirked, “I just did what I could do to heal everyone.” I didn’t give more information to her, especially over the unsecured connection, but I had managed to inject all of them with nanites to repair the damage done to them at our last family gathering. I’d programmed a delay though so I’d be gone before any consequences! I’d also taken Bella’s parents project of making amazons to imprint on their littles, and given that set of nanites to Chloe and Cassie, along with their husbands. The two of them would have had no choice but to actually love their ‘babies’ and not hurt them or mistreat them anymore. In the coming months I heard that family gatherings had become a lot more peaceful! As much as I wanted independence from my parents, I had to accept that there was no way I could move out at that point. I appeared to the world a girl mid-way through elementary school at best. Mom seemed to enjoy having a daughter my supposed age to play with, go shopping with, and even forced me to do things like gymnastics and dance. Well, that actually wasn’t too much forcing as I had a lot of fun learning how to do both of those! We had to switch studios about once a year so that no one would get suspicious over my appearance not changing. The biggest problem with those classes though was that my potty training was a continuing disaster. No matter what we had tried I could not seem to regain my urinary continence! Further I seemed to miss with number two accidents one out of every four times… One doctor had suggested that the estrogen shot Fred said I needed to start my puberty might help matters. He based it off the idea that bedwetting tended to end in puberty for those who struggled. Sadly nothing happened with six-months of monthly and weekly shots, other than I would get violently ill and moody! My body refused to start growing, filling out, or to start up my reproductive system. Eventually I gave up and agreed with the doctor that I might look like I was nine years old for the rest of my life. The only positive thing was that he thought that might be indefinite… like I might live for a couple hundred years or more longer than I should! We tried some different options for protection to deal with my problems when my diapers from the other dimension ran out. GoodNights and UnderJams were the right size, and more discrete, but even my leaking accidents would overwhelm them regularly. I hated having wet marks on my clothes or bedding from leaks! The smallest youth and adult diapers fit, but just barely as I was really skinny now. I also hated the clinical way they looked too! Even just before I left I had discovered the ABDL community and began looking to see if they had any answers. I knew they had companies making cute diapers for adults and searched all of them. Sadly they were all made way too big to fit me. To my surprise searching one of those boards though I saw an out there suggestion that the largest size of baby diapers might fit someone larger than my size. Being under 60 pounds the largest Pampers was a cuter option, and because I was skinny they actually did fit reasonably well and worked. Most adults were pretty good about not calling out my diapers… About once a week though we would hear some comment about, ‘how sad that her mom hasn’t even potty trained that girl!’ or ‘Diapers? At that age?’ Inevitably one of those parents would brag about their daughter being potty trained before she was even two. It was the difference in the treatment between our dimensions really. Back in the other dimension they might heckle, but it was expected that a girl my size there would be in diapers. Here, my size meant I was an outcast in that I had to wear diapers. Over the years I became desperate to at least not have to stand in a leotard with a diapers edges showing when I went out to practice. I could handle the little girl part, but the diapers needed to go! I began looking at the one resource I still hadn’t tried – the nanites. They were still active in my body and I knew I could do some changes with them still. I theorized there might be a buildup of the one protein from nursing from Amanda for so long? I started programming the system to remove that again if so. I also researched and discovered a couple other points in my nervous system that might be malfunctioning and causing the problems. That was how five years after I’d returned home I told my mom I was going to try it. She too was desperate to help me get rid of the diapers and the rude comments, and encouraged the attempt. Late one afternoon she watched as I pressed a send button on the computer screen with the code and waited for the jolt that had usually accompanied an edit. It came, but it was a lot more than a jolt! I panicked and screamed as my body twisted in shock and pain for several long moments. Mom stayed back as I’d instructed her. I knew instantly that something had definitely gone wrong with the update. When the changes stopped I stood up - right through the neck hole of my dress! I looked up at Mom and said, “Oh no!” and upon listening to my voice I began crying heavily. She picked me up and held me in a tight hug until after a few minutes I managed to get control of my emotions. We both realized we had a big problem. “Can you undo this?” Mom asked me. I shook my head, “I don’t think so… what am I going to do? Or even wear?” “Well wear we can handle… stay right there,” she told me. “Where would I go buck naked?” I asked as she left… ‘Amanda always warned me something like this could happen!’ I thought angrily to myself. She went down the hallway and I heard a closet door opening, things being shoved around, before she returned with a pink diaper bag that looked brand new but looked a bit dusty. She opened up a compartment and pulled out a Pamper that seemed to be about the right size for my shrunken frame. “Why do you have that?” “I was afraid you wouldn’t grow when you came home… So I bought some diapers and outfits that would fit if you didn’t change size…” Given my success rate, or lack thereof, with the potty she quickly diapered me in the smaller Pamper. I caught a glimpse of a number on the diaper and saw that it was a size four diaper. As she closed it I told her, “I think this one may be a size too big…” “I think you’re right,” she agreed. “We’ll go to the grocery store in a minute…” I groaned, but was at least grateful we weren’t in the other dimension. She pulled out a cute sundress and leggings combination from the bag and dressed me in it. With that outfit we discovered that Size 2T was baggy on my thin frame. A quick check on a scale and with a tape measure provided us with my new height of thirty-four inches, and I was just twenty-three pounds now! I was officially smaller than I was in the other dimension! Mom had already picked up a carseat that she had never taken back to the store. She dug it out of the back of the garage and I watched as she pulled it from the box. She looked at a manual before setting it up to be rear-facing. That made me groan, once again I’d be looking at the backseat of the car, but I couldn’t deny I needed it… and it was my own fault! As she buckled me inside she handed me a familiar looking pacifier, “I know you’ve been sucking on this at night, do you want it?” I turned red but accepted it and nursed on it. Ever since I returned I hadn’t been able to give up on that habit… I’d thought I’d done a good job of keeping that secret while I was sleeping! What I missed more than anything was nursing from Amanda, and that was not going to happen again. She drove to the grocery store and I endured what would become a routine outing as a toddler with her mom. She wasted no time grabbing the next smaller size of Pampers and threw in a box of nighttime diapers too. We had plenty of wipes already, as nothing was really changing with my potty training, just the size of the diaper! She picked out some bottles and bibs before she pushed the cart to the checkout. There the lady smiled and cooed at me, saying how adorable I was! I just smiled back and pretended to be a little again! When we reached the car she checked my diaper. “Still dry,” she told me with a surprised tone. I started a bit at that, “Really?” “Really…” With that I could actually feel a need to go. Over the next few months the irony of my life was that I had been able to get my body able to potty train again… I used Pull-Ups, and later even regular big girl panties, for about a year before I ultimately decided potty training wasn’t worth the hassle. My bladder was just too small and I needed to go too often. I never woke up dry from sleeping, and car trips were hit or miss excursions that led back to Pull-Ups when we were away from the house. I decided it was also really tough to climb on toilets that weren’t training potties. I even fell in once at a store… We had a few doctors quietly examine me and run more tests. They found that my bones were fused together like an adult, so the likelihood of me growing was non-existent. Knowing that growth wasn’t going to happen I decided blending in was probably my most important move. She became Mama when I talked to her… I couldn’t call her Mommy, that would always be Amanda… Amanda… when I told her about what I had done she given me the strictest ‘I want to spank you’ look she’d ever given me. “Why did you mess with them?” She hissed, “If you’d asked me I would have told you not to risk it!” She couldn’t believe I had gone messing with the nanites when I spoke with her on that first video call. She told me if I’d bothered to ask she would have warned me they’ve theorized our dimensions have some different physics laws at play, and that this would probably be the result. “You might as well have stayed with me…” she commented sadly. In some ways I agreed, but I was happy being with my real parents at least. I gradually regressed back to old habits from the other dimension. My room at home transformed into a nursery, complete with a crib and changing table that Gabby had helped us pick out. She continued to come around and became the go to babysitter and second mother really when she wasn’t working. When I had privacy I continued to build my software company unseen by anyone. The large fortune I earned meant that meant we moved to a bigger house with an even nicer nursery for me. Another room was built with low counters for me that let me reach all of the computers and equipment that I needed to continue my software business. As time went on I became one of the wealthiest people on the planet… a mysterious one because no one knew what I looked like! Our new house also had the requisite indoor pool that made me happy as I swam in it at least once a day! In public though all anyone saw was a cute toddler girl who didn’t have a care in her diapered world. Days at daycare, playgrounds, playdates, and other typical toddler activities became a part of my life as much as my software business. I learned so much about computers from the other dimension that I got my dream of being one of the world’s best programmers, but in exchange for that I gave up the potty forever! Honestly I decided that it seemed like a good exchange to me! Finis ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I started writing this over Christmas a bit over two years ago, and I'm glad I was able to bring it to an end! It's turned into a 359,000 word monster that's over 600 pages long in my Word Document (I use 10 point font). It won't be immediate, but I will be going back through and editing this into three separate books and reposting them. Since this was a serial work I know there are things I need to go back and fix! I hope you enjoyed the ride of the story as much as I enjoyed writing it! Please let me know what you think! Thank you to everyone who has taken a moment to write a comment!!!! The full edited trilogy Exchanged, Little Hope, and Alterations is now available on Kindle. Please visit my new Author Page to purchase them! http://amazon.com/author/babysofia

I am fairly confident I wet my diaper while napping yesterday but I cannot prove it definitively. I woke up while having an infamous pee pee dream and reached down inside my diaper and noticed that it felt like I had just wet it. My diaper was wet before I laid down so it is impossible to know for sure but the wetness I felt seemed very recent as none if it had time to absorb yet. I did still have a full bladder when I awoke so it was not a full uncontrolled wetting. Really not much else to report. My wife and I are doing great after our last talk and she has been changing my diapers whenever I ask her to. I have tried not to wear out that welcome so I do not bother her all the time with changing me. My wife and I went to a bar last night for a birthday party for my best friend's wife. She messaged me and told me what bar it would be held at and I told her I did not care as long as they had a place I could change my diaper. She laughed and said yes they have a bathroom and I told her not all bathrooms are created equal. I wish there was more to talk about. I still do have a significant amount of bladder control after a year and a half of wearing diapers. For those that want to unpotty train yourself it is a long and windy road to the the mythical lands of incontinence.

In my 8th week now and Tuesday marked the first ever interstate business trip I’ve done as a 24x7 nappy wearer – no cheating. I’ve worn nappies on trips before but usually this happened after flights. Not this time. Not much room left in my travel bag either after nappies and associated infrastructure although I suspect I took too much after spending too much time mentally wandering down “what if” street. I had to move my alarm time from an already-intimidating 3:45am even earlier to accommodate the extra tasks of a quick wash and a nappy change before leaving home for the airport and a 6am flight. My weapon of choice was a BetterDry 24/7 under Gary PUL pants (for sheer cruise range) but I wore a compression stocking over the top and beneath my dress pants to assist with visual discretion. I was only the tiniest bit damp due to a dribble or two by the time I got to the airport but as Australian domestic flights do not use body scanners, I expected (and encountered) no issues through security. The flight down to Sydney was delayed (as usual) but I made it to our team conference venue in the CBD only a couple of minutes late to find most locals drinking coffee and chatting and a number of other interstate attendees also caught up in air traffic delays. A quick scout of the meeting venue showed it to offer bleak prospects for the incontinent. The oh-so-fashionable bathroom included toilet stalls narrow enough to be challenging for conventional use and the sole rubbish receptacle was a tiny mail-box style slot in a gleaming stainless-steel plate alongside the ubiquitous Dyson hand dryers. There was an adjacent disabled/uni-sex toilet but it was inexplicably locked for the entire two days of the conference (I suspect our company had re-purposed it as a storeroom). The BetterDry would just have to go the distance. Reluctantly, I restricted fluids but at least opted to keep my sphincter open as much as possible if nothing else, to ensure nappy capacity was maximised by the avoidance of flooding. This, in combination with high temperatures in Sydney limited my pee volume but even so, by 5pm I’d been in the same nappy for 13 hours and it was swollen. As near as I could tell, I did not smell but wo really knows. I certainly could not detect any body language from anybody else to suggest anything amiss. 5pm (the alleged finish time) came and went as I squelched about on my hard plastic seat being tortured by corporate waffle. Upon reflection, I was probably suffering far less on those hard seats than my nappy-free colleagues. I was worried about press-out leaks and was occasionally effecting a hopefully-subtle finger test but the BetterDry held against that as well: it is truly a super-nappy. Eventually, at around 5:40pm it was announced that as we were behind schedule, we would just go directly from the conference venue to the restaurant venue for drinks and dinner. Not in THIS nappy I wasn’t! Fortunately, other interstate travellers who had also started their days a long time ago baulked on my behalf and it was reluctantly conceded that we could check into our hotel for 15m or so to freshen up. I waddled the half a dozen blocks to my hotel, checked in and launched the world’s quickest rinse and nappy change. My BetterDry was 2/3 full of suspiciously dark and strong-smelling pee which my waterproofs had done a good job of concealing. I needed to #2 so took care of that using the toilet. At the same time, I thought I needed to pee again and as I don’t hold, that pee would finish up in the toilet but it was not to be. Although I had completely relaxed and felt the urge, all that happened was a steady stream of drips. It took ages and after what must have been 30 seconds, I ended up just putting on my Molicare and finishing in that as I dressed. I just didn’t have the time. The night went fine and fortunately nobody asked me how I could drink 6 beers and never need to go to the bathroom. On my return to my hotel room, I changed into my night nappies and fell into a deep sleep around 10pm. In the morning, I found myself to be much wetter than I remembered but there were no leaks. I changed into a BetterDry and checked out to return to the conference venue. I ditched a rubbish bag full of wet disposables in one of the dwindling number of street litter bins in the Sydney CBD. Day 2 itself went without problem but again, the disabled toilet remained stubbornly locked. Eventually I decided that my BetterDry would just have to go the distance and I would change myself at the airport club lounge around 5pm before my flight. In case anybody wants to know, the Qantas Club domestic lounge toilets are useless for adult nappy changing. The stalls are tiny, the rubbish receptacles are small and overflowing and the crowds attempting to use the facilities at rush hour are intimidating. My BetterDry was soaked. There was no way it was going to survive a couple of Club lounge beers and a 1.5 hour flight. There was one additional unisex/disabled/change room toilet adjacent resplendent with a small sign asking patrons to be thoughtful before occupying it. I was briefly thoughtful before letting myself in. I don’t like occupying limited facilities for the disabled but nobody seemed to be waiting for it, I wouldn’t be long and the alternative was likely to be a wet aircraft cushion. I had decided that in the (incredibly unlikely) scenario that somebody would comment, I would just tell them exactly WHY I used it and be amused by their reaction. Inside, I had plenty of space to strip my soaked nappy and change. There was a hand-shower and a thoughtfully-adult-sized sealed bin labelled “nappies”. I emerged in a dry Molicare that would last all the way home. At around 10pm that night, I made it home in time for a shower before changing straight into my night nappy and heading for bed. Also, on an upbeat note, my partner has been friendly and stress-free despite my perpetually-soggy underwear which has been nice. For my part, I am continuing to be non-confrontational, discrete, but hold my position unapologetically.

The best advice I an give for wearing 24/7 is just get on with it and work it out as you go. Seven years on and it is just part of life for me now. I found out what works and what doesn't and have my own way of doing things. Everyone is different and you will work it out.

Very sound advice. My wife and I call it the worst case scenario which you should always be prepared for. In my case it would be one of my children or a close family member finding out. At this point now that I have started to become unpotty trained I can honestly tell someone that may find out that I am incontinent without feeling guilty for being dishonest. We have only had to deal with the worst case scenario once when my shorts accidentally feel down at my best friend's house and his son saw my diaper. My wife explained to him that sometimes adults need diapers too and interesting enough he never told his father about it. I just shared with my best friend recently that I wear diapers thinking he probably already knew but he did not. It is good to let a select few know especially those closest to you. It has made me much more comfortable being diapered around them by doing so.

Yeah, there's this myth that doctor's are bound by confidentiality, and that's all in the legalese world where they keep your stuff confidential, uh huh. But if you don't think that they go in the back room and share stories of the weird stuff that they see, you're mistaken. I'm an ER nurse, and I work closely with doctor's enough that they are my friends and coworkers, rather than the people just barking out orders, so we have a jovial atmosphere because it's the only way that we can remain sane in that kind of environment. If someone sees something weird, or interesting, or has someone say something totally batshit crazy, if you think that they are going to take it to their grave, I can assure you that it remains confidential between you and your doctor for about 1 minute before it is repeated to other people, such as the nurse, or the scribe, or their colleagues who are asked to give their opinion on how to proceed. Most of the time it is professional, and information being processed, but if you think you can walk into a situation like that wearing an ABDL diaper and not have them repeat it to others, you're mistaken. I'm not telling you this to report the entire medical field (and I assure you, it's the ENTIRE medical field), but to have you keep in mind that there is no magical law that keeps a physician from telling their colleagues or their wife or husband when they get home about what they saw. HIPAA laws prevent healthcare from giving out information that is privileged and could be used to identify patients, but weird shit that people see is a gray area when it comes to that law. So bottom line, if you don't want to get judged or have people tell their colleagues about you wearing an ABDL diaper, don't wear one to a doctor appointment.

I've exhausted all I want to say here ..to come back to the original point ..hope there's now no doubt in the mind of anyone who is reading this thread why the melting of polar ice caps leads to rises in sea levels globally.. the rate of rise & possible knock on effects including runaway climate change is open to debate...As Jason has pointed out there's a lot of material produced by scientists & climate specialists elsewhere on the internet.. I've provided a few links to videos which feature people who are much better qualified to comment than me.. I don't know for certain if what the doom merchants are predicting is going to happen ..I hope it doesn't .. but hopefully its satisfied everyone what I've posted here is based on some serious stuff I've looked at & I haven't been making it all up.

This. Pools have so many chemicals and chlorine that you do not have to wear a diaper if you are bladder incontinent. People pee in pools all the time even if they never say they do. So true. This also goes for those who like wearing a diaper in their bathtub or shower and letting it soak so much it just over flows. Once the SAP and pulp get in your drain it will clog things up and you will be paying a very large plumbing bill, as well as having your plumber know exactly where all that pulp came from! If you are bowel incontinent, as mentioned only wear a cloth garment large enough to contain your feces and I would also say waterproof pants over to also help containment. It will be noticeable when you get out of the pool with a thicker cloth underpant and plastic pant over it since water will still soak your cloth underwear and run out of your plastic pants when you exit the pool, but both are needed for sanitary reasons with bowel incontinence, even with all the chemicals in the water. I agree with Bettypooh about just wearing a swimsuit if you are bladder incontinent. It will be wet, no one will know if that's from being in the pool or from you wetting yourself as long as you don't allow it to dry out when you are out of the pool for any length of time. If that happens, people might just notice the front of your suit suddenly getting wetter and wetter and dripping on the cement if you start to pee yourself. If your suit is already wet, if you pee yourself it may not be as noticable. I would think very dark colors like deep navy blue and really dark black might help hide it if you should wet yourself out of the pool. By all means, never wear any disposable diaper or underpant in a pool.

The Journey Praise where it was due, and this was indeed cause for congratulation. A long, long car journey all the way to Verbier and the twins had kept their pull-ups dry. A stop at a service area every couple of hours had worked, and given Matt and me a chance to exchange drivers, but the girls had gone each leg of the journey and stayed dry. Well done girls! Normally that would have been the classic nappy-trip with possibly a couple of changes, but the girls were nine years old now and at last we seemed to be making some progress. Furthermore, they had managed to stay dry overnight as well, although they had been well padded, of course. I had brought enough disposables for the whole fortnight for both girls, and in addition - a major source of contention - enough pull-ups to last both girls for the whole day, every day. I knew from previous experience that the combination of cold, intense activity, and one-piece snowsuits made daytime accidents almost unavoidable and had made provision accordingly. I thought I had been clever in buying bright pink snowsuits for the girls, but had forgotten that almost every other girl on the mountain would have a bright pink snowsuit. At least all the other girls didn't have red hair, so I could still see which ones were mine as they flashed past. I took things more steadily, not that I couldn't ski but I wanted to stay in one piece, and kept myself to the intermediate runs. I let Matt go off down the black runs, but for him it was a matter of pride; I preferred a gentler life. The girls continued to object to having to wear pull-ups under their ski-suits, but I continued to insist - washing a ski-suit wasn't all that easy, and the warm filling suffered, so I stood my ground. I argued that nobody could see and so nobody would ever know. This lasted until the about the fourth day when they were approached by an American girl in the same class, who asked very discretely if they were wearing some form of protection. Both my girls went red, which, like me, they do very easily, but the girl went on that she too wore something just in case. Her mother insisted, blah, blah, blah. That broke the ice, and the three of them went off to discuss the iniquities of Mothers as a class, and to compare notes. After that, they were inseparable. One afternoon after skiing I went to their room to check on them, and found all three together, stripped to T-shirts and pull-ups, lying on the beds and discussing the disposable nappies that my two had to wear at nights. They agreed that it was absolutely outrageous that they should be treated in such a cavalier manner, and how it stopped them from going on sleepovers with their friends. In the following days they checked out the rest of their class, playing spot-the-diaper, which was surprisingly fruitful, especially with the younger children. I got some of my own back when I met Cassie's mother, and we compared notes. Her daughter only wet the bed two or three times a week, and she wore all-in-ones at night, so she could wear the same diaper several nights running until she wet it. That sounded like heaven to me, as my two were wet as often as not, but when they wet, it was copious. We discussed all-in-ones, and I found that she used the brand that Helen marketed, albeit under and entirely different brand-name to her bespoke couture of which I was a such sponsor. I told Jeri about this, and that the all-in-ones had originally been designed for my daughters, but their habit of sleeping on their sides had made them inclined to leak,. Jeri asked if I found that disposable tended to leak if the child slept on their sides, and so I told her that it was a problem, but that I usually put plastic pants over them to minimise it, and at home they still wore traditional terries, although they were now bamboo instead of cotton, and so the conversation rattled on. I didn't tell Jeri that I had Helen run up a couple of pairs in my size for me to try, which gave me some insight into their effectiveness. That is not a subject I want bruited abroad. Jeri told me that the largest problem with her daughter was maintaining her self-confidence, when she was so regularly humiliated by having to wear "diapers" for so much of the time. Fortunately my two had never suffered from that; self-confidence seemed have sprouted in reaction to their problems, and, frankly, it was quite hard work to keep them on the leash at some times. Mother, who had watched the children growing up from a safe distance, said that if you dropped my two into a pool of piranhas they would have the piranhas stripped to the bones within two minutes, and there were times when I thought she was right. We were both delighted that the girls had found kindred spirits with whom to share their woes, and we agreed to stay in touch. Jeri was married to a diplomat who was based at the Embassy in London, so it would be very easy. All went very well for the two weeks of our stay, but on the final day an old adage came to hit us; it is said that an Englishman will break his leg on the first day, or the third day, or the last day. Matt chose the last day. Bless Him! There was something of an irony in having an orthopaedic surgeon with a broken leg, and it wasn't lost on the girls. Having seen Matt being recovered on a stretcher by the ski patrol they clustered around asking a plethora of questions, finally asking that if his leg was broken, could he not fix it himself? This was perhaps, the wrong thing to ask while your father is being carried off on a stretcher, but then it was perhaps the best time to ask him - he couldn't do much about it. That left me with a number of problems; the hotel were very helpful in letting us stay another couple of nights, and the girls managed to enjoy even more skiing, but it meant I would have to do all the driving myself on the way home. That involved leaving before dawn, finding my way down the mountain in the dark on frozen roads, and driving hard for a long day along the French autoroutes. I told the girls to get themselves dressed and ready while I concentrated on manoeuvring my three-legged husband into the front seat and arranging his crutches safely, leaving the girls to grumble their way into their safety seats in the back. A quick check to make sure everything was packed and we started the horrible journey down the mountains. The Range Rover had our skis in a box on top, and was fully loaded inside, and I couldn't trust the handling. Lucy the Lotus it was NOT! As dawn broke we were clear of the worst of it and established on the autoroute. The French autoroutes are toll-paying, which means they are not too busy and we made good time for the first couple of hours. Then the dread cry came from the back: "Mu-uum! can we stop for a minute?" That usually implied urgent business. Fortunately there was a rest area just ahead, and I went for it. There are two types on the autoroutes; rest areas which are frightfully basic with just a toilet block, and often the dreadful stoop-and-poop toilets at that, and the big Service areas with fuel, restaurants, shops and so on. This was a very basic rest area, and I was quietly interested to see how the girls would react to the very basic amenities. The car park was empty, and Matt managed to sort himself out against the hedgerow while I took the girls into the toilet block there the full extent of the problem was revealed. Wet tights, wet skirts, and no pull-ups. Instant row. Protests from the girls that they had run out of pull-ups because of the extra days in the hotel. I took their wet tights off and made them use the toilets, then run back to the car. Once there I told Matt what had happened, and he was furious. My course of action was clear: into the back of the Range Rover, find the disposable nappies, and change the girls on the back seat. Take their skirts and tights and wipe down the child booster seats, which by dint of good design, were waterproof. Follow up with baby wipes in all directions. and reinstall the girls, strapped into their seats, with only nappies on their bottom halves. Ignore all protests and drive on. We made one more stop for fuel and lunch before we reached the Tunnel. I found some leggings for the girls, and their coats covered almost all of their nappies (except when seen from the back), but they still needed a visit to the Baby Changing room, which fortunately was vacant. We were now running very low on disposables, too, and I elected to press on regardless, stocking the girls up with drink and snacks, and leaving them to it. Fortunately, in the Tunnel, you stay with your car, unlike the ferry where you have to leave it in the hold and go up to the passenger decks. That made one more change possible on the back seat, using the last of the disposables and I left the leggings off, the better to keep an eye on those pillows between their legs and spot when they were wet. It was a sensible move. It was only an hour back to home from the ferry to home, but by the time we got there both the girls were soaking wet yet again, and their nappies were sagging as they ran back into the house. I got Matt into the house, and directed the girls to sort out their own baths while I unloaded the luggage. I left the skis and other kit inside; that was just too much for the day. I went to check the girls, and they said they didn't want any supper; they had feasted on snacks and soft drinks all the way to the Tunnel, and had slept thereafter, and were ready for bed. Just one essential ritual remained. There were no disposables left, so I folded terries across the changing table and sat the girls on top, anointing, powdering, pinning and panting in a production line, then both of them were tucked into bed where they fell asleep almost immediately. I made a quick supper for Matt and myself out of the freezer and microwave, and then escorted him on his crutches up the stairs to bed. Then I hit the sheets and passed out to a welcome oblivion. That's the joy of family holidays, they are so relaxing.

5 - New Feelings Joyce’s clock buzzed quietly next to her, opening her eyes as the sleepiness quickly drained from her; her heart raced with anticipation. Slipping out of bed, she changed into a snug fitting t-shirt and pants with a similar effect for the day. First impressions for this kind of thing were important, and she wanted to look mature--but also stay comfortable when keeping up with her baby for the day. Everything had been calculated, down to the very cup she’d be drinking out of, and Joyce looked forward to every step of the way. While she and Emily both experienced their roles for the day, there was really one goal to achieve with Emily, and one only. She would, of course, ease her into things, step by step, but there was a point Joyce would be sure to reach to--truly know whether this could continue or not. She stood in front of Emily’s door; knowing that once she woke Emily up it was on her to see her through. With a deep breath, she quietly turned the knob and opened the door, seeing her peaceful little girl sleep without a worry. Joyce couldn’t help but feel devious, having known that Emily would still be asleep. She purposely kept her up late last night just to have this effect in the morning. Joyce knelt down on the carpet, knowing how heavy of a sleeper Emily was, and gently nudged her shoulder. “Emily, sweetie...it’s time to wake up…” She whispered into Emily’s ear. The girl stirred in response, still in a trance. “Honey, it’s time to wake up. We’ve got a very special day ahead of us…” “Mmmmm…” She mindlessly smirked at the noises. “Mm...nn!” Emily gave a little stretch, as her eyes finally opened to see Joyce looking back at her. “Joyce?” She mumbled. “What’re you doing in here? What…” She paused for a yawn. “ What time is it?” “Rise and shine, little one! Mommy needs to get her girl dressed for the day.” Even Joyce herself felt a bit awkward saying it at first, but her emotions and desires reaffirmed her resolve, as with each time it would only become easier and more natural. What was she talking about? Emily rolled over to stare up at the ceiling, trying to piece the situation together. “Now let’s see what we have here…” Joyce stood up, and with one hand peeled back the covers to reveal Emily’s body. She was in her button-up from the first night Joyce bought her those new clothes--which looked quite good on her, to Joyce’s mental note. “My, my! My little girl must have slept well, didn’t she? Let’s get you out of your nighttime clothes and into something more appropriate.” Emily only caught the last bit before she could feel the touch of someone edging their hands into the waistband of her pants and panties. As Joyce tugged them, Emily suddenly in protest went, “Wait...what are you doing? Hey…!” The protest was natural, Joyce reasoned in the back of her head. Joyce foresaw this as well, and it wasn’t anything outside her expectations. She knew the only way she could have Emily’s honest feelings was if she kept her out of the loop and tried to encourage her to simply just enjoy the ride. Surrender all control to her, let mommy take care of everything. Emily seemed to be catching on soon enough as well, suddenly remembering this was the day they were going to do this. But Joyce taking the initiative on her own was something she did not expect. She was surprised, yet she wasn’t denying what was happening either. “Such a fussy girl…” Joyce tutted, dismissing her adult shock as a little fit. “We’ll feel much better once we're up and wide awake!” Slowly teasing the girl, Joyce took her time sliding off everything below her waist, Emily being reminded every second of the way, as the fabric slid off her skin. And then they came off her feet; Joyce held Emily’s pants and panties in one arm while she looked over to the very exposed girl, who had already taken one hand to cover her most sacred parts for the sake of what dignity she had left. “Please give me my panties back…” Emily let out a sheepish plea, her voice choking up a bit from what seemed to be happening way too fast. She didn’t think her heart could start beating this fast so early in the morning! “Don’t worry honey…” Joyce rubbed her hand over her burning cheek. “We’ll get you sorted soon enough.” Joyce stared at the panties which used to be on Emily’s waist not even a second ago. The striped pattern that ran across the pink looked absolutely beautiful with exquisite craftsmanship. She fantasized seeing Emily clad in these, as she would walk around the apartment--but that was for another time--should it ever come. Something else should be around her waist right now; they weren’t panties. “Now let’s get that top off of you.” Joyce edged Emily closer to the bed, who was still trying to keep a hand in place from exposing her privates. Joyce paid her arm no heed, however, as she kept brushing it away; an unnecessary obstacle to getting Emily undressed. Constantly she’d try to readjust, to Joyce’s silent disapproval, until she settled by pulling a blanket over her legs instead. Meanwhile, Joyce made her way down Emily’s torso, button by button, as Emily became less and less clothed. Fighting very odd feelings of protest right now, Emily did her best to surrender to Joyce. It didn’t feel right, being undressed by someone else, yet she kept herself restrained nonetheless. Joyce noted Emily’s cooperation for the most part to be a good thing, and as the final button came undone it left her in just a bra. She’d leave that on Emily; lest she pushes her too far for one day. This time was all about taking just the right steps. “Arms up,” Joyce said as she guided Emily’s arms by pulling on the top and hanging it over her arm. “Such a good girl,” Joyce cooed further, tossing nearly all of her clothes into a hamper next to her dresser. Speaking of which… “Now let’s get you all dressed up.” Joyce pretended to look as if she were trying to decide on an outfit for Emily, when in fact she knew exactly what she was looking for; she simply wanted to add to the immersion. “Hmmm...Ah! I know!” Joyce proclaimed as she dug into one of Emily’s drawers. What did she find? Emily racked her brain, trying to think what could possibly be considered infantile in her wardrobe. Out of it, Joyce pulled a shirt, holding it by the sleeves just to give Emily a good look. The shirt was predominantly grey, and the sleeves and neck collar was pink, with a happy monkey playing on the front. Emily looked at the size, knowing full well that wouldn’t fit like her shirts normally do; unless that was her intention? And also, where had that been hiding in her drawers? “A cute shirt for my cute girl! And most importantly…” She fished into the drawers again, exploring depths Emily had clearly never known of before. But to Emily’s horror and knowing inevitability, Joyce held a large white rectangle in her hand, causing Emily’s heart to sink a little, yet skip a beat when she recognized what it was. “I need to make sure my baby is protected while we have lots of fun today,” Joyce explained in a motherly tone, taking the two articles of clothing over to the practically nude girl. Emily’s heart pounded heavily as she did her best to process such a quick chain of events. She wasn’t ready for this, but Joyce didn’t look like she intended to stop, and that made everything equally as intriguing as it was terrifying. She had to constantly remind herself that this was Joyce doing this; her only reason for agreeing to something so unimaginable to her. She was still waking up, yet from the way Joyce was acting, her sleep-induced drunkenness was switching out for something much more infantile. Soon, she would be committed to the role as soon as Joyce did what she needed to do…The final nail in the coffin--or rather, the final tape on the plastic. Joyce could see and feel the fear and uncertainty radiating off from Emily’s troubled situation. She dearly hoped those feelings would change soon enough, but she’d only know if she pressed further. She quietly cleared her throat, then proceeded. “Now let’s lie down for mommy, sweetie.” Gently, yet firmly, she used both hands and pressed on Emily’s shoulders as she eased her back, the blanket covering her falling out of reach and Joyce denying any attempts to get it back. Emily hated being so exposed, and turned her head away in shame as she felt tears sting her eyes. “There, there,” Joyce consoled. “It’ll all be over soon…” Out of sight, but not earshot, Emily could hear the crinkling noise as Joyce fanned out her new undergarment for the day. With both hands, Joyce gathered Emily’s feet together and lifted them up to Emily’s surprise, feeling more like an actual child with each step. Thighs and legs in the air, Joyce slid the white cushion underneath Emily’s bottom and slowly lowered her onto it. Emily could feel the goosebumps as she came into contact with the soft padding. It didn’t feel real, despite the obvious proof sitting between her legs. Joyce produced a bottle of baby powder and gushed a small cloud of mist as she gingerly covered Emily’s waist in sweet lavender-smelling powder. Going as far as to rub it in, Emily jumped a little out of reflex for being touched in such sensitive areas; almost feeling violated as she hated to acknowledge the strange, yet stimulating touch. Joyce paid no mind to her responses as she finished rubbing, and moved onto the closing stages as she drew the front of the diaper up and between her legs. Emily did too, as her face turned a shade of red while desperately trying to block out her senses. Next came the tapes, as one by one Joyce made sure to securely lock the four-tape diaper into place. She ran her finger through the leg waistbands (Causing Emily to jump again), and then it was done. Joyce stood back for a moment to admire the sight right now, while Emily still abashedly avoided eye contact. Joyce’s heart was gushing right now, melting at what she saw. Emily had gone so far to make this possible for Joyce, and it was living up to be everything she’d dreamed of. Joyce could have been the happiest woman in the world right now, as she was overjoyed with her new charge and loving friend. Joyce sat the girl up as she finally slipped the shirt onto Emily, hiding her bra but doing nothing to mask the white crinkly diaper secured around Emily’s waist. Emily picked up on it too, pouting how the shirt stayed just slightly above her belly button, openly hanging as the shirt was clearly not designed for the size of adults nor their curves. Seeing Emily blush was an obvious tell, but Joyce still couldn’t help but eat it up--simply too precious for words. Emily looked down at herself hesitantly. It was certainly a different look...the diaper felt much thicker than the panties she had been wearing moments ago, and made her feel very out of her element. The reminder of her helplessness refreshed some tears in her eyes. Whether this was for Joyce or not, Emily still felt troubled trying to adjust. “Okay...let’s talk.” Joyce calmly reeled back the persona, as she sat on the bed with Emily, putting an arm around her shoulder and over her waist. “Tell me, how are you feeling right now?” “I...I don’t know…” It was all Emily could say. It was so hard trying to describe the emotions she was feeling. To confine that idea of helplessness, fear, anxiety, uncertainty, safety. and thrill into words...Was there even a word for that? “Well, are you happy...sad...scared?” She rubbed Emily’s back. “I just feel so...vulnerable.” Even that didn’t feel like it did it justice. “I feel like a baby.” The irony was hard not to laugh at, but for Emily’s sake, Joyce stayed silent at that remark. “That’s the whole point, Emily. I want to take care of you so dearly like this, but I want you to enjoy it too. Yes, it must be a shock going through such a transition, but I want you to know that I will always be with you every step of the way. I want to care for you just as much, and if not, more. It’s okay to feel vulnerable when you’re like this, and in this apartment. It’s just you and me, and I would never take advantage of you.” The level of trust needed to feel like that though wasn’t easy to reach, of course, and it wasn’t something that could happen overnight. It felt better having Joyce treat her like an adult again; being able to collect herself, Emily nodding her head in response. She wanted to see what this was like and feel Joyce’s love for her as a child, yet nonetheless, it was scaring her to feel so defenseless, and naked. Never before had she ever needed to rely on someone in such a way other than when she were actually a baby. Now consciously being aware of the difference, she didn’t feel right. “I promise nothing bad will happen to you while you’re in my care. Just like with your ankle, remember? When you were hurt we made it all better? When you needed clothes, I provided, and when you needed food, I cooked. It’s nothing different now, other than both of us getting to enjoy it in a different way. It may feel scary now, but you need to give yourself a chance to enjoy today and see what it’s like.” “But the...diapers…” Emily’s voice drifted off on the last word. “Again, it’s just another thing that reminds you of how you’re in my care. I love the idea of taking care of you, and hope you can like me taking care of you too. You don’t have to think of it as making you a baby; it’s just a way you can put your trust in me to keep you comfy and safe. Besides, does it feel completely unbearable to wear one?” As much as she hated to admit it, Joyce was on some level getting through to her. Despite being thick and crinkly, the white diaper with a long strip running down the front was a bit of a cushion on the inside. It did feel soft to some degree, but not far from her high-end panties. Still, though, it was an awkward trade for comfort in exchange for being such a far cry from adulthood. And another thing she fought herself on was the wonderful smell of lavender emanating from the diaper; she couldn’t deny that it was a nice smell. And considering it as a sign of Joyce’s care was strange to process, but did offer a new perspective that slightly dampened the blow to her dignity. “Now that we’re feeling better do you want to go have some breakfast?” Breakfast did sound good right about now, and whatever they did have would likely help take her mind off of things. Emily nodded her head as she sniffled one last time, her stomach suddenly starting to feel empty. “Good, I know I could use a bite to eat right about now, too. Annnd up we go!” Joyce hoisted Emily up in the air with a sudden burst of strength she did not expect, quick to wrap her arms around Joyce’s neck and legs around her waist. She’d never actually been awake when carried by Joyce, and was surprised being able to witness the woman’s strength firsthand. Joyce supported her bottom with one hand and back with the other, and was in heaven as she carried her big baby out of the room. Wait, what about pants? “Hey, Joyce, wait!” Joyce suddenly stopped walking. “What is it, hon?” “What about...you know…my pants?” “Pants?” Joyce continued walking down the hall and into the kitchen. “Yes! Can’t I have something to wear over this?” Emily’s voice became quiet in embarrassment. She suddenly wasn’t feeling so brave when it came to referencing her underwear. “Maybe later,” Joyce reasoned. “I want you to be comfortable with being dressed as you are, and this is just about as intense as it gets.” Joyce half-lied. She could think of one more way to take things further, but she had no intention of doing such a thing to her already skeptical charge. “Please? Can’t I just have some pants, shorts, or even a skirt?” Emily begged for some kind dignity, as this wasn’t an adjustment she appreciated having to adapt to. “No means no, Emily. I’ve seen you in even fewer clothes than this; you shouldn’t feel embarrassed. I’m the only one who will see you like this, and frankly, I find you adorable!” She patted Emily’s back after that remark, unable to see Emily’s blushing face. “Now let’s stop thinking about adult things and look forward to breakfast!” Joyce pulled out a chair at the table with a cushion on it, setting Emily down onto it. Emily noticed the difference too; her bare thighs coming into contact with the warm softness that was replaced by the usually cold surfaces of the wooden chairs. Had she planned this? Emily wondered, pressing her hand against the warmed cushion. She must have, considering all the other chairs were like they’d always been: cushionless. Either way, Emily wasn’t denying the welcomed addition. Joyce hummed her usual melody as she took out various ingredients and appliances. Emily couldn’t see much as she watched in silence, only able to make out butter and eggs as Joyce stirred. “What’re you making?” Emily asked as she leaned from side to side in her chair. “That,” She hung the suspense in between her words. “is a surprise.” Joyce was becoming happier by the minute as it was beginning to feel less and less like a dream. There were a few issues with today, but assuming it all went well, they would be fixed later down the road. For example, she wanted to use a changing pad for Emily and much more appropriate diapers, but on such short notice and holding back her temptations to give Emily the complete baby treatment, she had to take things slow; even if the wait was painful. For all she knew, Emily may never want to do this again, and the thought honestly scared her. However, Joyce was too focused on simply making this one of the best experiences both she and Emily ever had. Speaking of Emily, sitting in her chair with little to do, she started to become much more attentive towards all the windows in the house now. Being dressed as she was, the glass that gave her a good look of the outside world felt so much more dangerous now; now giving the world a view of her, and her outfit. She had half a mind to crawl under a rock and die. But if Joyce had even thought to keep her seat warm, then that must mean the windows were fine to pass, right? There were certainly buildings that towered in front of every angle of the apartment, and they were in one of many homes to be seen. Putting things into perspective and realizing just how insignificant they were, her mind was put somewhat at ease; reminding herself that Joyce promised her safety and security. Joyce poured the mixed substance onto a griddle as she made four medium-sized circles just about equal in size. She dotted them with chocolate chips and flipped them over once one side had been cooked enough. Once the other side finished, she unloaded two onto each plate, one for her and Emily. With a knife, she buttered all four and took care to cut up all of the fluffy cakes on one plate, then apply just the right amount of syrup to the both of them. Satisfied with her work, she carried both plates to the table. “Ta-da!” Joyce cheered, as she placed a plate in front of Emily and then herself. She turned on the coffee maker as she grabbed napkins and silverware for the two, a fork and knife for herself, but just a fork for Emily. “Pancakes?” Emily looked down at her plate as she could feel herself begin to salivate. Joyce was truly a godsend from the kitchen heavens, as her food never failed to impress the eyes or taste buds. She had tried cooking for Joyce before during the week, as a sign of thanks; but it never turned out nearly as well with the practice and skill Joyce already had. She’d really need to get a few pointers from her... “We should start off the day with something delicious to get our big day started!” Joyce set out the utensils as the coffee maker finished doing its business. Emily noticed she was only given a fork, but decided not to protest, seeing as her meal was already cut up for her. She knew what Joyce was trying to go for, and didn’t not appreciate her kind gesture. Emily didn’t hesitate, as she already taking her first bite. It was as spectacular like all of her cooking was. The syrupy goodness blended so well with the bite of pancake that revealed a warm chocolate chip which melted on her tongue. Taking in every last bit of taste, she hurriedly moved onto the next bite. Joyce stared at her little girl as she poured their drinks, a bit disappointed in how she saw Emily sit in the regular chair. There was so much more she wanted to do for Emily, and she couldn’t chase the feeling away. Had it been Joyce’s way, Emily would at the very least be wearing a bib right now, if not also securely in a highchair. What were once fantasies, now felt like genuine possibilities with Emily. Joyce wanted to experience so much with her, but was afraid to break Emily with the pressures of unloading years of pent-up “mommying,” all at once. Slowly she would appease her own emotions, but Emily’s always came first. Joyce set her mug of coffee on the table while she gave Emily her’s, which was specially prepared. Emily eyed the cup as well, seeing it wasn’t ordinary. It was one of the cups she’d used in the house before, but now there was a rubber cap covering the opening, as there was a small top to drink out of. Almost like a sippy cup. Was it? Through the translucent plastic she could see a light brown substance, almost like chocolate milk. Curiously, she lifted the cup and took a sip, better put, sucked on the rubber top, to be rewarded with a stream of deliciousness. It was her kind of coffee that taste like it had been mixed with a generous amount of milk; a perfect balance between caffeine and a drink much more expected of someone substantially younger. She had been expecting something much more infantile, though, but was happy Joyce was making an effort to keep her feelings in mind, too. “Do you like your drink, honey?” Joyce asked as she sipped some of her own coffee, cutting a piece of pancake. “Mhm!” Emily mumbled through her chewing mouth, already eating more pancake. “Perfect. Only the best for my special girl.” Joyce happily cooed as they continued their meal. Emily was reluctant to drink from the cup at first, but she could stomach the embarrassment, knowing that this was what Joyce wanted, and probably the best she was going to get. With how Joyce had been describing it, this almost came off as a compromise. Did she have a bottle lying around somewhere, and decided against using it? Whatever the case may be, she considered it a blessing counted. It didn’t take long to get the hang of drinking from the pseudo-sippy cup, either; getting it down before she’d sucked it dry. Emily scooched her chair out from the table to get some more, walking over to the counter. “Oh, what are you up to over here?” Joyce was already behind the girl. “I was just refilling my drink.” Emily nonchalantly spoke, in the back of her head, wondering why Joyce would feel the need to ask. “Then don’t worry honey,” Joyce easily plucked the cup from her hand. “All you need to do is ask. Let me take care of it. You go finish your pancakes, okay?” “Okay…” Was all Emily could say, as she took her seat with the sound of a crinkle. She had almost forgot she was wearing a diaper, and wasn’t happy for being reminded. And it was weird, exploring her limits as Joyce’s...baby. The word felt so weird when referring to herself. Had she done something wrong by getting her own drink? Just how much did Joyce want to do for her? Emily was swirling in thoughts; the exact opposite of what Joyce wanted for her. “Here you go,” Joyce set down the refilled drink in front of Emily while she took the last bites of her food. “Just let me know if you want anything else.” “Thank you.” Emily said as she took a sip from her cup to finish off the morning’s breakfast. Joyce with the liberty of cutting larger pieces, finished a bit before Emily, and was just checking her tablet for any unforeseen work updates; not that anything would or could come between her and Emily today. She set her tablet down and gathered their plates, walking over to the sink and rinsing them. She set them aside and took out a washcloth next, wetting only part of it as she walked over to Emily. “You got a little bit of syrup on your mouth, sweetie.” Joyce was more than obliged to assist, taking hold of Emily’s chin while she wiped her mouth clean. Again a strange experience for Emily, she was thankful nonetheless. As the cold washcloth ran over her face, she needed to remind herself that it was okay to surrender like this; she let Joyce do her thing. Her face clean, Joyce left the washcloth on the counter while she lifted Emily again and moved her into the living room. Not seeing it before when they first walked through, there was a large quilt set up on the floor in front of the couch. It was decorated in ABC block designs on a powder blue background, and made for a better seat than the hardwood floor. As Joyce lowered her, it gave Emily a leveled view of what was on top of it: toys. There were a couple of things Emily recognized off the bat, like a toy ball, a speak-and-say, and a thick children’s book; very simple stuff. Her mind would vegetate if she were to mess around with the latter two as she were right now, and could only consider the possibility of being entertained by the ball for a short while. However, some of the other things she couldn’t recognize were things that maybe could occupy her for a bit longer. All different in shape and size, they all seemed to be logic puzzles varying in challenge and likely difficulty. Joyce could see her plan had worked to get some more “advanced” toys for Emily. Of course, it would be cute to see her use some of the more babyish things, but she knew she wouldn’t be very captivated with those few toys. Just because Emily was her baby didn’t mean she had the mind of one. Emily without paying too much mind to Joyce already started tinkering with one of the puzzles, a bit surprised by it’s genuine difficulty. Joyce was happy to see Emily engaging on her own without having to be pointed in the right direction, but also disappointed when looking at the quilt which Emily’s padded bottom sat on. Joyce wasn’t particularly a fan for superficial things. Whenever she needed something she could simply buy the correct item; she had earned the ability after all, and to resort to so many repurposed items for Emily was a terrible feeling. She wanted all the bells and whistles, and only the best of the best that was meant for exactly what she wanted to do. She wanted the best for her girl--her baby, but Emily seemed content, and that was enough to set aside her little peeves. Joyce flicked on the tv for some background noise while she joined Emily. She was tinkering with a puzzle shaped like a disc; three metal parts connected to look seemingly woven together, but they were supposed to detach, and Emily was trying to figure out exactly how she’d accomplish that. “Oooh that’s a tough one, isn’t it?” Joyce encouraged while on her knees, more than a head taller than her compared to the way Emily sat. “Mhm…” Was all Emily could say, busy trying to figure it out. She always loved puzzles, but at moments couldn’t be the best at them. This was one of those times. Emily openly sighed as she gave the puzzle another work-over, feeling as if she’d already tried every angle to pull them apart for the past ten minutes. “Here, how about we try it together?” Joyce suggested, as she repositioned herself. She stood up to move behind Emily, and sat in such a way where Emily was in between her legs, as if they were going down a slide together. As if Joyce were the back of a chair, Emily leaned slightly back while she used Joyce as a cushion to support her. Absolutely loving it, Joyce accepted the puzzle from Emily’s hands and began to work on it in front of her. This...didn’t feel so bad, Emily reasoned as she laid into Joyce. It almost felt like any other night when they sat on the couch together, but maybe a bit more intimate in some way? She always enjoyed the feeling of being with Joyce in some form, and that was no different even now. Maybe in a diaper, and sitting on a playmat, but it was still with Joyce. And she didn’t feel belittled by the puzzle either, as it really was challenging. Joyce may have been treating her like a baby, but she did it in a way where Emily didn’t feel mindless like she had expected. Yet she couldn’t understand why Joyce wanted this so badly? Emily did the like idea of being close to Joyce, but she had yet to see the charm in the approach they were taking. “And if I have it correct, I think it should go...like...this!” In just a minute or two, Joyce successfully unlatched the pieces, which then fell into Emily’s lap--her diapered lap, rather. Emily still wasn’t too thrilled about her new underwear, but there were the perks to it she acknowledged from earlier. Trying not to pay mind to it, she collected the pieces and was already fiddling with them, now trying to do the opposite of what Joyce had done. “How were you able to do that?” Emily questioned, already trying to fit them into their awkward sockets. “What you need to do is twist and pull.” Joyce explained while she watched Emily, stroking her hair. “Yeah, but, how do you put it back together?” Emily aimlessly tried any combination to get them to fit into place, relaxing to the hand running through her hair. Now she wanted it back in one piece to try Joyce’s method. She held the puzzle up, as if a gesture for Joyce to solve it for her. “I can’t give you all the answers, silly! That would ruin the fun, wouldn’t it?” There was some truth to this statement, but Joyce wanted these toys to last until she could acquire some more if this wouldn’t be the last day they did this. And if Joyce was reading the situation correctly, that may just be the case... Emily sulked a bit as she started fiddling with it again, wishing for the instant gratification of Joyce showing her how to solve it. But next as if Joyce had read her mind, she produced the cup containing her favorite drink from breakfast. Emily happily took it and set the puzzle aside to take a swig of the caffeinated beverage. It was already half empty, but she tilted her head back further and further to get every drop; Joyce’s bosom serving as a pillow to support her efforts. “Thank you,” Emily said as she instinctively wiped her mouth with her hand, finding it to be dry. Then she remembered she was drinking from a sippy cup. Normally, she’d get the stuff on her mouth while sipping if she wasn’t careful, but this rubber cap prevented that from happening. In its own way it was kind of a perk, Emily figured. “Could I have some more please?” Emily asked, trying to look up at Joyce’s face by turning her head. “Why don’t we try some juice instead?” Joyce suggested, taking her cup and standing up. “Why juice?” Emily questioned, not particularly thrilled to be denied her special drink. “Because, you shouldn’t be drinking caffeine all day. That’s for the morning to wake you up.” Joyce explained. She appreciated that Emily liked the drink she made for her, but she didn’t want to make that her exclusive beverage. As Joyce walked away, Emily could already feel herself kind of missing her personal backrest. She messed around with the puzzle some more, but was ultimately getting nowhere. There was no way she would be able to beat that dumb puzzle. Joyce popped off the rubber cover and washed the cup out before refilling it with apple juice from the fridge. Apple juice was one of Joyce’s particular favorites apart from water, coffee and wine. She hoped the same would go for Emily too. Joyce put the cover back on as she walked back into the living room. She felt bad in a way, as she took her seat with Emily again, as if she were tricking her. Emily probably hadn’t thought about it yet, but Joyce wouldn’t object to keeping her hydrated--rather encourage it. The inevitable would happen soon enough, and then they could put one of the hardest steps behind them. “Thank you,” Emily said as she accepted the drink from Joyce, giving it a taste. She could tell it was apple juice, and it was pretty good. She very much liked her coffee-milk, but this was an acceptable substitute, she supposed. Emily grabbed a new puzzle while she turned her gaze to the tv, and Joyce shifted them over to the couch as the more comfortable option. Joyce encased her as they laid there, absolutely at peace as everything in the world felt right. Emily watched the show with Joyce while she occasionally tinkered with the puzzle, paused by taking a sip from her juice, while sitting in Joyce’s arms feeling safe and secure. “So how are you feeling now?” Joyce broke the silence, wanting to check back in with the adult Emily once more. “Better. compared to this morning.” Emily admitted. “Everything you’ve done for me I can’t appreciate enough. Minus the diaper and clothes, this doesn’t seem too different than normal. I..” Emily started to blush. “I like it when we’re together like this…” Joyce was overjoyed to hear such words as she gave Emily a little squeeze. “I like it, too.” “What about you? How are you doing?” “Emily,” She sighed. “I can’t thank you enough for this. I feel closer than I ever have before, and am loving every second of our time together. Doing this for me makes me the happiest woman in the world. All I’ve ever wanted is a little girl to watch over and care for, and you allowing me to do that makes you the most important person to me right now.” “You...you mean it?” Emily wasn’t sure why she was asking, nor why her heart’s pace started to pick up, and begin to flutter. “Absolutely and wholeheartedly.” While Joyce couldn’t see, a small smile crept over Emily’s face as she found herself soaking in the moment. She wasn’t sure how she would react to becoming a baby like this, but the love Joyce gave her made it worth every second, and started to make it more than bearable; actually enjoyable. The two laid there after many juice refills for a few hours or so, until the clock had just about crept up on two. Joyce had been paying attention, as she flicked off the tv and gathered Emily in her arms. “Wait, what? Where are we going?” Emily asked, just in the middle of watching something. “It’s naptime, sweetie.” Joyce gave her a light bounce as they walked down the hall. “But I’m not tired.” Emily retorted as they entered her room, trying not to say the most cliché thing any kid in her position would. “Don’t you always take naps during the day, though? When you wait for me to come home?” Joyce had a point, but those weren’t until later. It was still about an hour before those even entered the realm of possibility. “Yeah, but, those aren’t until later.” “Then let’s get you into the habit for this time then. Soon enough you won’t even feel the difference.” Joyce explained as she set Emily down on her bed. “Do you want the shades open or closed?” She asked while pulling a blanket over Emily. “Could you leave them a little open?” Emily asked. She wanted to leave a sliver of light in, just to remind her that it was still daytime. “Sure,” Joyce said, doing exactly as she requested. “Now try to get some shuteye. I’ll come back to wake you up in a few hours, okay?” “Mhm.” Emily nodded as she was authoritatively ordered to sleep. That was about how long she napped for normally, but it felt different being told to. “Perfect. Sleep well, my princess.” Joyce cooed, as she lightly kissed the top of Emily’s forehead. Emily’s cheeks burned as Joyce quietly shut the door, now alone with her thoughts. Making a deep sigh, she reflected on the day’s events thus far, rolling over on her side. While she couldn’t fully comprehend what Joyce was getting out of this, Emily’s own enjoyment was starting to grow on her. Being treated like an infant was different, but she felt closer to Joyce than she had ever before. Up until now when they were together Joyce still always cared for Emily, just to a much lesser extent. It’s as if by intensifying the level of maternal instinct Joyce had for her, so did their bond, and the feelings she felt from it. She loved being with her like this; being cared for--the center of Joyce’s attention. It was unusual, thinking so selfishly, but it felt good to feel that way, because she knew Joyce felt the same too. Yet again though, Emily had trouble placing her feelings for Joyce. Was this love? The idea kind of scared Emily. She liked men...but was it possible she liked women too? No, no, maybe that’s not it. She didn’t like women in that way; she simply liked Joyce. She always felt like a mother figure to her; just on a more intimate level. Whatever they had between them right now was perfect. Nothing less, and nothing more. Satisfied with her emotional conclusion, Emily closed her eyes, and could feel herself working her way into her usual nap routine. Emily opened her eyes sometime later, in the partial darkness of her room, minus the light from outside. She quickly got to the bottom of what woke her up; feeling pressure in her bladder. Oh crap, no, please no! Emily hopped out of bed and crinkled her way to the door. Why did this have to happen? Being Joyce’s baby may be fun, but this part certainly wasn’t as well-received. She made a beeline for the bathroom like years of routine would command; twisting the handle to only have it jiggle in resistance. “No, no, no! Please!” Emily jiggled the handle further, having no idea why the bathroom was locked. Joyce! She needed to find Joyce. Quickly she opened the door to her room, finding it untouched and empty. She looked in the living room and then the kitchen, finding no one. This was bad! Where had she gone? Did she leave her? The worst of her fears were bringing on tears, as she paced around, unsure of what to do as her bladder ached more. Why did she have to drink so much juice? Why did Joyce let her drink so much? Ugh! This was so frustrating! Out of instinct, she wanted to take off the diaper, but unless she got into the bathroom, what’d be the point in taking the thing off? “Joyce…” Emily sobbed as she sat on the couch. “Emily? What are you doing up?” The missing figure had suddenly appeared. “You should still be…” Joyce trailed off as she took off her glasses. Emily looked at her in tears with a posture overwhelmed by stress. “I thought you left…” Emily sobbed, afraid of being left in such a dire situation and attire. “Of course I’d never leave you!” Joyce gave her a hug. “Is that why you’re so upset?” “No…” Emily whined. “I need to pee…” So that’s what it was...Joyce sighed as she pulled Emily into her lap on the couch. “Shhh...shhh...It’s okay, Emily.” “But I need to use the bathroom!” “Then let it go,” Joyce cooed into Emily’s ear. “Mommy’s here, there’s no reason to be scared.” “Please Joyce, I’m not joking, I need to go!” “I know you do sweetheart,” She locked eyes with her. “Which is why I want you to go right now.” Go!? Did she mean in her diaper? Emily knew she agreed to this, but saying and doing were different things! “Please! Don’t make me do this.” Emily started to plea and sob again, as she was fighting Joyce’s grip. Joyce didn’t feel great; forcing Emily to pee herself. But she’d need to do it at least once to know what it feels like. She wanted to push Emily at least that far before the day was over. This was it; the big moment. “Just relax. Instead of holding it back, give it a niiice...biiig...push.” She cooed into Emily’s ear, doing her best to calm her down. Emily’s body was rejecting everything Joyce tried to coax. It felt wrong, and she didn’t want to do something she hadn’t done in decades! “I can’t,” Emily begged between her sobs. “Please let me use the toilet!” “I know honey, it’s hard. Let mommy help you, okay?” “No! Please don’t!” Emily struggled as she knew what was to come. Her urge to pee was growing ever stronger and she did not want to do this in a diaper. Anything but that! This wasn’t right; she couldn’t do this! Emily’s fears only grew as the pressure built. Joyce couldn’t really want this! She’d be disgusted with her! With one arm still securing Emily, Joyce took her free hand and slowly rubbed her abdomen in a gyrating motion, applying a firm amount of pressure. “Please stop!” Emily was crying as Joyce pressed further, making the urge even stronger. Slowly she was reaching her literal bursting point. Joyce started to hum in Emily’s ear, as her struggling rapidly declined as it was already too late. Emily could feel a rush of pee escape her as it quickly broke out into a steady flow as if she were on a toilet. Only she wasn’t. She was in another woman’s lap. She tried to hold it back, but it was a losing battle, as once she started it was impossible to stop. The warm liquid crept up and down her front and all the way to her bottom. She cried freely as she thoroughly wet the diaper, her diaper. Joyce’s restraint turned into comfort as she stroked her hair and gave her a hug. The tenseness in her muscles had completely dissipated; too emotionally drained to bother moving. Not that she had anywhere to go anymore... “You did very well my good girl.” Joyce consoled the crying Emily. The stream stifled off into a few drops and then nothing. Emily couldn’t emotionally control herself, as she felt hot from her emotions and warm from the now used diaper. She could see the discoloration in the once white underwear as the strip had turned from yellow to blue. The initial shock had ruined her completely; this was too strange for her… “Good girl, Emily. I’m so proud of you! You’re my big strong girl...There, there…” She was...rewarding her? What Emily considered to be shameful and disgusting, was praise-worthy and delightful to Joyce. She was too confused right now, for betraying her body’s hardwired instincts and yet feeling the praise from her carer made everything seem okay. “You don’t...hate me?” Emily managed to hiccup through her tears. “Hate you? How could I ever hate my sweet Emily?” Joyce tightened her hug. “I want you to feel happy and safe; know that I will always love and care for you no matter what! I expect you to wet your diaper. I know it feels unnatural at first, but you took the first step, and it becomes easier every time…” Emily didn’t know how to feel about that, but there was comfort in knowing she had Joyce to lean on. Her diaper felt wet and squishy as she shifted, it was certainly a strange feeling on its own, but knowing that her urine was the culprit certainly didn’t help. “I feel gross…” Emily whined; she wanted to be out of this immediately. “That’s okay honey...it’s normal to feel that way at first. You haven’t done this in a long time, haven’t you?” “No…” “That’s right. But it’s all about rediscovering those feelings of being okay in a wet diaper. But, I want you to know that I love you all the same; no matter what. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed or ashamed when these sorts of things happen. They’re expected of you, and you should feel the same.” Emily still cried as she sorted through her feelings. Joyce was her emotional crutch right now as her world had just been turned upside down. But Joyce said it was okay...so she should feel alright… “I just want these feelings to go away…” Emily sobbed further as she turned in Joyce’s lap and cried into her shoulder. “I can help you feel better honey...would you like me to try something?” “Mhmm.” Emily mumbled from her shoulder; anything to make this situation feel good, or at least alleviate it in some way. “Mommy can teach you how to like wet diapers…” Joyce whispered into Emily’s ear; even feeling a bit apprehensive herself about what she was going to do. Like them? How could she do that? With one hand, Joyce cupped the front of Emily’s diaper as she slowly started to rub, up and down. Emily could feel the wet friction against her most sensitive parts as Joyce started to move her hand, up and down. “Joyce…? What’re you...doing?” She pulled from Joyce’s shoulder slightly, feeling a bit of stimulation in her nether regions. “Shhh, I’m making all the bad feelings go away. You did so well for me that you deserve a reward.” Joyce eased Emily’s head back towards her, slowly increasing the pressure and pace. “Joyce…” Emily started to take more breaths; starting to feel something...good. “Doesn’t it feel nice? Rubbing your diaper?” “No…” The shameful, yet aroused look on her face said differently, though. “Y...yes…” Emily was starting to pant a bit from the action Joyce was giving her. She wanted to say no after going through something so traumatizing, but she couldn’t help but embrace this rush of wonderfulness Joyce was creating. “I’m here to take care of you in every way…” Joyce said as she continued to rub. She didn’t know if this was the right thing to be doing, but she wanted to alleviate the pain Emily was feeling, somehow. Emily had put so much trust into her, she had to take her every step of the way. She could feel Emily start to tighten her grip on her body. Emily didn’t want her to stop...It felt so amazing, yet she felt so...naughty. What should be so embarrassing, Joyce helped her derive pleasure from. Was this right? Joyce said it was, so it had to be. Wasn’t that all that mattered? “You’re a good girl, Emily. I want to make you feel happy and to let you enjoy yourself when you’re in my care. It’s okay to feel this way, and to feel any other emotions when you’re with me. You’re my baby, and it’s my job to take care of you; I want to care for you. You don’t have to feel scared or embarrassed when you’re with me. I love you for who you are and will always, no matter what you do.” Emily couldn’t take it anymore. She started to moan and bury her face in Joyce’s shoulder. She simply clutched tightly as she let Joyce do all the work. She started to cry again as she reached an internal conflict. Her mind raced a mile a minute as Joyce rubbed more and faster. Finally, it stimulated her in just the right way, she reached her climax and felt a wave of pleasure wash over her body. Instantly she grew limp, the only thing supporting her being Joyce. Tears ran down her eyes as the sexual pleasure was overwhelming; shaking from the excitement. “You’ve done so well Emily…Such a good, good, girl.” Joyce now hugged Emily; happy to see Emily had truly felt pleasure. Emily knew she did something so embarrassing...but she felt so amazing right now. Her wet diaper was a thing of the past as she had now gone in it both ways, and it felt great. Being Joyce’s baby wasn’t so bad...Even at such an all-time low, Joyce made it feel amazing… “C-Can you...change me?” Emily said in a weak voice as she panted. “Of course, honey.” Joyce wasted no time taking her back to her room, laying Emily down, who was too tired to stir or really move. Up until now, she had the energy to move if Joyce didn’t guide her, yet feeling so drained now as Joyce did what she’d always done, Emily now knew what it was like to be cared for. She only had complete trust for someone who only made her feel such good things so often. She never knew what it could feel like to give someone else complete control; to be so submissive. It was scary--losing control, yet it felt so great to be guided by someone she trusted so much. Beyond her orgasm, Joyce created a whole new sense of feeling for her. This newfound pleasure Emily felt wasn’t sexual...it was simply being under Joyce’s absolute care... Emily felt a cool rush of air as the diaper was untaped and discarded, feeling the cool wipe guided by Joyce’s hand wash her clean. “Do you want to go back into panties, Emily?” Joyce asked, already accomplishing her goal for the day; not wanting to press her any further. “Yes please…” Emily spoke, still physically tapped; still shaken up. Emily looked to be in a state of pure bliss, as Joyce snaked a pair of panties up between her legs. Today had been a good day; turning out even better than Joyce expected. She slipped the monkey shirt off of Emily, even unclasping her bra and putting a new one on, met with little resistance from Emily. Joyce grabbed her some shorts and a T-shirt and dressed her in them as well, guiding the girl back to the couch as she came to her senses. Sitting down, Joyce asked: “So...how do you feel?” Emily looked as if she were about to cry again. “Amazing.”

The bulging pocket of a teenaged girl caught her attention. She fell in line behind the gaggle of local girls, keeping a few yuppies in between them for camouflage. It was easy to tell the locals and the yupsters apart. The city slickers tried too hard to fit in, making themselves stick out like sore thumbs. They passed a few game booths like Pop-A-Pumpkin with darts and orange balloons. Prudence drifted closer to the teens, easily weaving between people. She occasionally surveyed the crowd with a casual glance to make sure no one was watching. One eye stayed on the girl and her pocket. She was an older teen, almost grown up. Eighteen or nineteen, Pru guessed. So she might have something good on her, like cigarettes. Or junk like used, balled up tissues or bubblegum. Who knew with kids these days? They were such slobs. Not like when Pru was young; back then, society had standards. Now, she was often mistaken for an older teen or a young twenty something by the humans. It annoyed her to no end. Given her looks, her age when she’d been bit, been turned, it was only natural that the humans would get confused with her age. She still looked the same as she had a century ago. Her physical body was in her prime; hell, she was in better shape than when she was a human. Physical perfection; beautiful and lethal. A predator in her prime. A wolf in sheep’s clothing. The longer she lived, the less human she felt. Like that part of her was slipping away. Sometimes, she forgot herself and had trouble connecting with the humans. Blending in with the humans used to be as natural as breathing as she adapted to her new state of being. Now, that state felt natural and acting human was a foreign language, clumsy on her tongue. The girls whispered and giggled, heads bent together. The murmurs and laughter of the other pedestrians milling all around them should have drowned out their voices. Pru heard them easily from several feet away, as clear as if she stood right next to them. She picked up each voice as well as each individual scent. She sniffed the air, her nose and brain filtering and automatically cataloging each scent like a canine. “Rosie, you sure it’s okay to leave Lucas by himself?” A girl with acne asked the girl with the bulging pocket. Pru’s ears perked up at that. Could the girl with the bulging pocket be cousin of Lucas the doll maker? It was a small town; Pru was sure she’d just hit pay dirt. She paid closer attention to the girls. “He’s fine.” Rosie sounded annoyed. Like the topic was getting old. “He seemed pretty freaked out.” The tallest of the group chimed in. “Yeah, you know how he is. What if he has one of his anxiety freak outs or something?” Acne girl frowned at Rosie. “They’re called panic attacks. And he won’t. He’ll be fine. We’re just going through the haunted house. We’ll be back in like five minutes.” “I feel bad. Just leaving him like that. He looked like he was gonna cry.” Tall girl looked back over her shoulder. Prudence casually turned her head, like she was thinking about buying a candy apple from the nearest food booth. Just another face in the crowd. Rosie made a disgusted sound deep in her throat. “He’s got his fucking bear and a dry diaper. He’s fucking fine. Just because he’s in a wheelchair doesn’t mean he’s a full blown tard. Quit looking at me like I smashed one of his dumb dolls. Now, it’s Halloween. I’d like to have a little bit of fun with my best friends without my fucking cry baby cousin completely ruining my night. Is that too much to ask?” She rounded on the other girls. They met her eyes for a brief moment then looked away, awkward and uncomfortable. Rosie stared at them for several heart beats. None of them looked back at her. She sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m sorry. Look. Lucas even said it was okay. He said he didn’t mind if we went to the haunted house. So let’s just go and get back, okay? I’ll get him a candy apple or something.” That last part swayed the other girls. They nodded and continued walking. Pru drifted closer until she was directly behind the distracted girls. Foot traffic slowed. Bodies pressed closer together as they neared the spook house line. Ahead, a toddler writhed on the ground in the middle of a tantrum fit. Her fists and feet pounded the pavement, her face red as she howled at the top of her lungs. Pru’s upper lip curled in a snarl at the noise. She glanced around once. No one watched her. She stepped silently closer to the girls. Her hand dipped into Rosie’s pocket. Her fingers curled around a smooth plastic oval ring attached to something. She guided it out, hidden in the palm of her hand, then into her own pocket. She smoothly turned and walked away. All this occurred in the span of a few seconds. She walked between two food stalls and behind a bounce house before she examined her latest prize. A pacifier. A large one. Too large for a baby or child. Perfect for an adult. Little Rosie was a raver? She didn’t strike Pru as the type. Rosie wasn’t a kandi kid or a tweeker. First impressions could be wrong, but Pru considered herself a good judge of character. Girls like Rosie didn’t get high. They stole the occasional beer or wine from their parents. Cut school. Broke curfew. Acts of childish teen defiance. Pru turned the pacifier over in her hand, examining it. The shield was green. The button yellow with a cartoon turtle on it. The handle was blue. Colored more for a boy than a girl. A prop for a Halloween costume? There were some scratches on the plastic and teeth marks on the large rubber nipple. It was too realistic, too well used to be part of a costume. Could this belong to a diaper wearing, teddy bear carrying, anxiety prone, crippled doll maker? “Only one way to find out. Besides, returning it is the right thing to do.” She grinned, revealing very sharp looking teeth. She tossed the pacifier into the air, caught it and put it back in her pocket.