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This is a new story about two mothers who happened to be ABDLs. I tried to write it as a fairly realistic depiction. If you like to read up to the good stuff, I'd recommend that you check out my Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/user?u=6660213 Otherwise, I hope you enjoy this story! Chapter 1: Pamela's Pacifier "I'll be right back, gotta grab my bud." The nineteen year old, Olivia Witherford grinned to her boyfriend as she got out of his old Honda Civic. "Sounds good, babe. I'll text Joey that we need some Swishers." Olivia nodded, and made her way up to her parent's two story suburban McMansion. The house was your typical suburban house, but only more expensive due to the fact it was located inside "Coral Cove"; an exclusive gated community that had its own Golf course. The young woman slowly pushed open the front door and stepped over the threshold. Normally she wouldn't be so secretive, but her dad was out of town which meant that she had to watch out fof her- "Olivia Ann Witherford!" Came the annoyed voice of her mother, Pamela Whiterford. The much older woman had a good fifty pounds on her daughter, but it was all situated in the right places. Her breasts strained against her dress shirt, barely hidden from sight, as the forty three year old woman sat up from the couch. "You've been seeing that boy again, haven't you!? Olivia sighed as she walked the short distance to the living room. "What makes you say that?" "Don't play dumb with me, young lady. I heard that piece of junk coming here from over a mile away!" "Whatever, mom. I'm just going to hang out with Oscar and a few friends up on the ridge. It's no big deal." "No, it is a big deal! I sit here, worried about you driving around in that death trap all night. Not to mention what the neighbors must think every time they hear you get dropped off. Seriously, it sounds like an old, busted vacuum that's about to explode!" "I wouldn't have to drive around in that thing if you hadn't talked daddy out of buying me a car for my birthday!" Pamela's eyes narrowed as her frown lines became more pronounced. It wasn't like she didn't take care of her face, but she was at that age where time was slowly starting to show itself. "Do you think you really deserve a car after dropping out of community college? How ashamed that made me and your father feel, but that big hearted man still wanted to spoil his little princess with a car." Pamela sighed. "If it was up to me, I'd have given you ten swats on your dumb little ass for every thousand dollars that car would have costed us." "Ugh. I'm not dumb, mom!" Olivia shot back. "So, let me take a guess. You just wanted to fail every class and look like an idiot?" "That's so fucked up! How could you say that about me?" Olivia felt her voice rise as she shouted at her mom. "Because I didn't raise a delinquent!" The forty three year old shot back. "I tried my best. I set curfews. Hired tutors to help you get good grades. I got you into soccer and paid for flute lessons! I've always tried to keep you out of trouble by setting strict guidelines since your father was always away on work when I needed him most. Then you turned eighteen and started this little bullshit rebellious phase of yours!" "I'm not a kid anymore and this isn't a phase!" Olivia shot back. "So, I can expect to see you for the next twenty years everyday? Living under my roof and eating my food?" "Look, I am trying to find a job, but-" "You can't even keep a job mopping floors at Burger Star! How are you supposed to be productive when you get fired from every job you've had this year?!" "Maybe because I want something more out of life than mopping up dirty floors, you ever think of that?" Olivia questioned. "How do you expect to find a good job when you don't have anything positive on your resume? When I was younger than you, I already had made numerous contacts from my years of babysitting after school and got a job as secretary of-" "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Secretary of Edelman Law Group. I've heard this story a million times before, mom." Olivia rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to change diapers just so I might get lucky and get a job answering phones!" "Ughhhh, I don't even know what to do with you anymore!" Pamela groaned. "One of these days, we're going to have a very serious talk." "Good. So I can go now?" "Yes. You can go straight to your room!" Pamela declared in a no nonsense tone. "You're such a bitch." Olivia shouted as she walked away from her mother and made her way up the stairs. Once Pamela heard her daughter slam her bedroom door, she sat back down and sighed. "That girl is going to be the death of me!" Eyeing her half sipped glass of red wine, the middle aged mother leaned forward and took another drink. She then waited until she heard Olivia's boyfriend take off in that loud hunk of junk. "Finally! I need this so bad right now." Reaching into her purse, the forty three year old woman fished out a rather large and uniquely designed custom pacifier. She kept it with her at all times, for situations like this, when she needed something to soothe her soul. Many a smoke break were spent with the buxom blond sat in her office, door locked, while she slurped on her pink paci in privacy. She let the infantile object dangle from her right index finger while she pulled out her dentures with her left hand. With her dentures sat on the table she pushed the big bulb of her binky home, letting her mouth go to work. A steady rhythm soon developed as she slurped on it, sucking it in and out while the large ring on the pink pacifier occasionally clacked against its mouth guard. 'I'm so stressed out. I have to try and get a spot tomorrow.' To Be Continued... Want to read more? You can read up to the part where diapers get introduced on my Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/user?u=6660213

This was so sweet I had to share .. first time this has happened! My daddy comes home from work in the middle of the night and comes to bed shortly after. Sometimes I wake up and sometimes I don't. Last night when he came to bed I barely woke up but he covered me up, then put his hand on the front of my diaper (I was kinda wet but not bad). Then he found my paci clip I had on my jammies and put my paci back in my mouth. He curled up behind me when I turned on my right side and patted my bottom. This made me feel so special but it didn't take me long to go back to sleep. ?

That pretty much describes where I am now. The acceptance during the day is pretty much complete, and its just normal now. Which is great. I hope you can get there.

As would most reasonable people. To me this looks like a problem silhouetted by the silence around it. I just wonder if a "push it until it breaks" regime of destructive testing is going to take you where you want to go. To me, that doesn't seem like an unreasonable line but I should warn you that I have sometimes been accused of having the emotional repertoire of a Dalek so maybe take that feedback with salt. I suppose it was a bit different for me. I didn't ask about her questions or concerns. There seemed little point. I didn't waste a lot of time trying to negotiate for approval or validation. I realised I'd never get that from her. The outcome I was looking for was to be given the tolerance, avoidance, just the "just ignore this" air-space to let me go back into nappies and scratch that itch to see if it stops. I didn't want compromise on that score even in the unlikely event it was offered and I considered that marriage counseling (not that it was ever mentioned) would inevitably finish up with an inadequate compromise upon which she would then promptly begin fresh efforts to erode. I figured that discreetly-hidden nappies under adult clothing was a lot less than some other ABDL were asking from their partners and a realisation that I was running out of life and possibly not being considered fairly fueled this fire. It's a limited kind of technical victory. And now, having taken Hamburger Hill, I must defend it. Have you figured out exactly what you want?

68.) …I'd had worse afternoons. I mean, I didn't like being treated like a goddamn baby, but… but the thoughts were gone. Temporarily. The memories didn't bother me. I was too lost. I watched Dora and let Anni play with my hair for hours. When Nora finally made an appearance, I had just gotten the strength to move again, but walking was still out of the question. I sat up and looked at her as she came into the room. I pouted. "Hello, Princess." Nora was looking very well-rested, which was a well-deserved feeling for the woman who'd been up all the previous evening, and much of the morning. "Marta tells me that you've been a very good girl today, and it looks like you had fun with Anni — did she do your hair?" The pigtails were uneven and sloppy, but still pretty amazingly cute. "…I wanna go home," I muttered, trying to pull myself to my feet. Ultimately, though, I only got as high as my knees before giving up. I didn't like her towering over me like this… it made my words sound less powerful. And what was worse: I'd let myself get this way. Stupid milk… stupid, stupid milk... The woman smiled down at Josie and then motioned to the walls of the living room. "This is your home for a while now, princess. Until you're better. You asked for my help, and I'm going to make sure that you get all the attention you deserve." Marta had taken Anni out of the living room discretely during the conversation, and that just left the two of them together for now. I rubbed my eyes and shook my head. I tugged myself up to my knees again, and with great effort pulled myself onto the couch. I was so exhausted from all of it, though. I couldn't believe I'd let myself get like this. "I'm not staying here. You can't keep me here." Jeeze, everything was so hazy… "My sweet, you asked to stay here, you asked for my help. And I'm going to do just that, and once you're properly treated, you'll be allowed to go, just as Rissa did this morning." Luzy knew just how things worked here, though, but not how it began, not what the early stages were like. Not the progression from autonomy to eventual dependence. She just saw the end results. "I'm not like Rissa! I am not a child!" Rissa left…? I didn't even notice… but I supposed she wasn't out here. She should have been out here… "Rissa's still…" I had to take a breath. Breathing was as hard as staying focused when you had so much to say… "Rissa's still got problems. She should be here. Not me. I have school. I have work." Okay, I didn't have work. But I needed work! "I have an apartment, and furniture… I'm not staying here!" "Everything is taken care of, princess. Rissa is going to stay with Koi for a spell, and then she'll take care of your apartment. Don't you worry too much about school, that's what Mom's are for." The word Mommy was still tenuous to the woman, she knew that it would be okay, logically, but she didn't want to rush the girl into things. She'd come to call her Mommy in the natural course of things. "…Rissa's staying with… with Koi?" Rissa. The girl who literally put her entire hand in my ass. The girl who had me lick her pussy ten times a day. The girl who basically took every ounce of my sexuality. Was living with the girl who kissed me? MY BEST FRIEND?! "I AM LEAVING!" The yelling didn't do me justice. It brought stars to my vision… "You must remember that Rissa is not the girl that she used to be. She's Ister, for the most part, now as an adult. You mustn't worry so much about others at the moment, princess. The sooner you can focus on your own recovery, the sooner you'll be cleared to leave." There was paperwork for Josie, things that had been lodged, treatment manifests, school forms, and legal custodianship. She quite literally could stop the girl from leaving, but that was a fact that didn't need to be shared right now. "…how long? A week?" The woman shrugged her shoulders. I looked harshly at her, or as harshly as I could with looking like I was going to cry. "I have class. I'm close to graduating. If you want me to start being happier and dealing with things, I need to move on, right? So I need to graduate." I'd put so much work into this program, to keep me on track despite my setbacks… "You're here under emergency medical suspension. You won't forfeit any of your classes, and you will be able to complete your current classes upon leaving the program, be that in a week or a month or more. The paperwork has been lodged, and the approval given. Your apartment is being taken care of, your school is handled, and you lost your job at Subway, so unless there's something else you'd like to worry about, I think we're safe to move on to your treatment program, don't you?" This would be the first of her twice-per-week talks. At first they'd be very direct and adult, but over time they'd become much more abstract. "I AM NOT STAYING HERE FOR A MONTH!" I went to stand, to yell more, to hit her, maybe! To fight for my right as an adult. But my legs gave out and I fell onto my hands and knees. I exhaled harshly, closing my eyes tight. Everything was spinning… everything was falling apart… "…I'm not… s-staying here…." "You're going to stay here as long as it takes for you to get well, princess. And our first step in that goal is to give you your new name." The woman reached into her pocket and took out a plastic-beaded bracelet with letter-block charms that read Josie. She fastened the bracelet around Josie’s wrist and smiled, allowing Luzy the opportunity to look at it, read it, understand what it meant. I ripped at the little beaded plastic, to snap it, to shoot stupid block letters across the room like I did the cookies. But it didn't move. The bracelet was familiar. Very familiar. Ister had one on her wrist, too, when I'd gotten here, and Anni had one on her ankle. I never paid them any attention before… but the bracelet didn't come off. It didn't snap. It didn't even budge. It just left marks on my wrist where the beads pushed into the skin. Josie…? I… I wasn't… "Josie. You will be Josie until you're ready to leave, at which point you get to choose who you become. Josie is a four year old girl, a sweetheart who enjoys playing with her sister, and very much enjoys her milk. Josie is aware of what has happened in the past, and doesn't hide from it, or ignore it. She understands, however, that her Mom knows best, and her Mom will tell her when it's okay to think about those things. Josie is pretty." Josie is pretty. At first, those words would be followed by something to cause positive feelings, an external tool — a shot, in this case, one to bring a sense of warmth and contentment — but in time, the association would be made, and those three words would trigger happiness all on their own. I pulled at the bracelet again, but for whatever reason, it didn't come off. I looked for a clip or a latch, but I didn't find anything. How had she put it on? I should have been paying more attention… "I'm… my name is Luzy…" I muttered, biting my lip. I pulled myself off my hands and knees, on just my knees, and looking up at the woman. She was so much taller than me… "I'm not… not staying here…" The shot, under her bracelet, the warmth, it was had a similar impact as the milk as most pure contentment would, in that it made the world seem quite a bit more lovely than it was. "Josie, you'll be praised for accepting your real name, because your old name is hurt, it needs time to recover and heal. You don't want to be in the way of that healing, do you?" "…cut it out…" I rubbed my eyes a little, but things felt weird. I felt weird… I felt… calmer… "…you can't…" I fell back on my bottom, rubbing my eyes a little more. Everything was hazy, but it was bright. I knew I was blushing, but I didn't know why. I looked at my feet, playing with my fingers… "Why don't you try saying it? I know it seems a little bit new right now, like a new pair of socks, but maybe you hearing your voice say it will help. Go on, now, tell me your name, Josie." Of all the things at work in the program, it was often the imprinting of a new name that people resisted most — even more so than doing all their bathroom, helplessly, in diapers! "…it's not… that's not my name…" I pouted, rubbing my eyes. I looked up at the woman and blushed. She smiled down at me, on my level now, kneeling, perhaps. She put her hand on my cheek and I fell into it, curling up against her fingers. I didn't feel right... "Isn't it possible you only feel that way because you haven't heard yourself say it in your voice, princess? Isn't it possible that… it is your name, and you're just not used to it, yet?" Josie was putty, barely able to move, nuzzling into the woman’s affectionate touch. She was prime for this sort of therapy, even chemical influence aside, she was such a naturally affection-starved girl. “It's not…" But my tone was a little lost. I couldn't even remember what I was arguing anymore. I'd never been in such a state, such blatant… disarray. I bit my lip and rubbed my eyes again. "Just say it one time.” One time. I could do that. I mean… why not? It didn't change anything… "…Josie…" "Josie is Pretty." The delivery mechanism for the chemical was ingenious — two nubs on the inner side of the bracelet that wouldn't break the skin, pressed lightly and the cocktail would be pushed through the girls skin, an instant rush of warmth and happiness. No pain, no needles, no obvious external influence. "It's such a pretty name, and even prettier in your voice, such a good match, doesn't it make sense to be yours?" "…I…" I couldn't even see things right anymore. Everything was a blur of colors and noise and prettiness and I couldn't remember any of those memories that haunted me. I nodded my head, slightly, and closed my eyes to regain some thought. "… I guess it's.. it's fine…" What was fine? What was I even saying…? "Tell me your name, Josie. Names are such funny things, you need to hear yourself say that it's your name, and soon it starts to be truth." Over the coming days, the woman would teach the girl the differences between Josie and Luzy, about how they shared memories, but Josie was going to protect Luzy and learn how to handle them for her, and keep her safe. For now, it started with the name. "…name is… Josie…" The woman played with my hair and helped me up on the couch. Honestly, I couldn't tell up from down. Nora pulled my head into her lap. She played with my hair for a long while while she reiterated, over and over: "your name is Josie". Sometimes I'd repeat her. Sometimes I'd enjoy the colors. All in all, it wasn't a bad afternoon.

Chapter 9 Cho woke up again in the hospital wing, and she saw Harry, Hermoine, and Marietta all sitting there, waiting for her. She looked first to Marietta wondering what was wrong. “Harry and Hermoine feel awful about the accident at the DADA club, so they came to check on you. Well, I’ll let them explain.” Hermoine stood up first, and she walked a little closer to Cho. “I am really sorry. I didn’t know that that charm would cause you to get hurt. I mean, it wasn’t in the description at all, that it would cause….” “Relax,” Cho said sitting up slightly. “It wasn’t your tickling charm that got me here, okay? It really wasn’t.” Harry frowned. “Was it the old hag?” “Harry!” Hermoine chided him in a whisper. “She might hear you!” Harry sighed. He didn’t care if the old hag heard him or not, but maybe it wasn’t best to get in trouble around his friends and especially Cho. The last thing he needed, was for innocent people to be punished because he was being a little brazen lately about the Inquisitor. “Anyway,” Cho looked up at Hermoine and then at Marietta. “The matron told me that if you are doing anything to… um… hide problems from the matron….” She blushed and looked down not wanting to accuse Hermoine or Harry of needing to hide something like that, nor of wanting to out Marietta for taking precautions. “It’s okay,” Marietta told Cho. “The matron told us what she told you, and I’ve been checked along with Hermoine and Harry, too. Hermoine is very clever, and if you let her treat you, instead of doing it yourself, you can probably still get away with… not wearing regular diapers and not having anyone notice when you… have problems.” Harry put a hand on Cho’s shoulder after standing up. “None of us think the less for you. Matter of fact, I admire your forethought in figuring out how to outsmart the…,” He looked around and lowered his voice to almost an inaudible whisper. “…hag.” Cho smiled up at him and winked. “The matron told ME no more magic though to hide it,” Cho told Harry and Hermoine. “Not that I don’t trust Hermoine, but I’m afraid of going against the matron’s orders. She’s there to help us, and so… I… I don’t want to let Hermoine help unless the Matron says she should.” Harry and Hermoine both smiled and nodded. “We understand,” Harry assured her. “We’ll just have to figure out something else when you get detention with her.” Cho frowned and blushed. “It’s not just detention anymore,” she whispered. Marietta jumped in trying to save Cho the embarrassment of explaining. “She’s having daytime trouble, now, but we didn’t know why.” “I know why now,” Cho corrected Marietta. “Like I said, Hermoine’s charm didn’t cause my problem at DADA. The Inquisitor’s punishment, well, one of her punishment pens caused it, and the matron says that she’s trying to counter it, but it’s going to take time, and likely, if I get that same punishment again, well, I probably won’t be cured while that old hag is here at the school.” Marietta frowned. Harry frowned. Hermoine frowned. Cho frowned. A moment of silence passed. The moment turned into a minute. A minute became two, and two became five…. “Well…, there is one thing we can do to keep anyone from knowing you pee,” Hermoine finally broke the thick quiet. “There is an imagery charm that will change what it looks like you are wearing. Maybe if we meet at the great hall before breakfast, lunch, and dinner, then I can cast that charm on any of us that thinks we need it.” Cho looked up at her. “But the Matron said NO magic.” “She meant, no magic that directly affects your body and clothes,” Hermoine frowned. “This doesn’t even touch your body. It’s just an imagery charm that changes what it LOOKS like you are wearing, not what you are actually wearing. Your pants will still be wet if you pee in them, but no one else will notice unless they inspect where you were sitting or standing the moment you peed after you move.” Cho knitted her eyebrows, thinking about it. Marietta frowned again. “If Cho gets caught going against the school rules, she can get in trouble.” “I don’t think it’s against the school rules to use imagery charms on yourself,” Hermoine told Marietta. “But if you are worried about that, we could go directly to Professor McGonnagal or maybe even Professor Dumbledore and asked. Marietta became quiet for a few minutes, and Cho nodded. “I think I like the idea of a charm that will hide it, but doesn’t go against what the Matron said. I’ll let you do it.” She looked at Harry. She trusted Harry, so if Harry didn’t stop Hermoine, then he must have faith in her ability to do exactly as she says. Cho wished she knew that charm, but then her parents had always been on her to learn what was sanctioned by the school and the teachers, and not to experiment on her own. Hermoine must have discovered this magic on her own. Madame Pomphrey came back where the kids were all gathered, and she smiled at them all. “Cho can go back to the dorms with you all in a minute, but I need you all to clear out for a minute so I can sort her and get her ready to leave,” she told the group. “I will have some herbs I want you to drink with your tea in the afternoons for a while,” she told Cho. Harry and the others went outside the door of the wing waiting for their friend. “When you say no magic to hide me peeing my pants…,” Cho started to make sure with the matron, the matron smiled. “Honey, what I mean is, nothing that directly affects your panties or your skin where you are healing. If you find anything besides doing something that touches your skin where you are healing, then I really couldn’t care less. I just want you to heal, honey.” Cho nodded. “Is it against the school rules to use illusion spells?” Cho asked the Matron. “That depends on what you are using them for,” she replied. “If you are asking about using something like that to hide it when you pee so your peers don’t notice, no, that is not against the rules.” “What if I used it to hide it from teachers or the headmaster?” “Honey, it is impossible to hide something from the headmaster like that. Most of the teachers also know what to look for when it comes to something like that, too, but no, it’s not against the rules to try to hide it. I’m just saying it won’t be successful if someone has been teaching a long time.” “But old Toad face might not be aware,” she muttered under her breath. “What was that, honey?” “Nothing,” Cho said innocently. “Just thinking to myself.” “Okay, well, I think you’re ready to go now. Just remember, nothing foreign touching your skin again until I say so, okay?” Cho nodded. Cho and the others were walking through the halls. “You can do the image spell you talked about on me,” Cho told Hermoine. “I thought we were going to find out if it’s okay, first,” Marietta frowned. “I already asked the matron. I even asked her if it’s okay to trick the staff with it. She said most of the teachers won’t be tricked by it, but it wasn’t against the rules to try. And she said it’s not against the rules to hide it from our peers. So, really, there is nothing the Inquisitor can do even if she figures it out.” Marietta frowned. “Okay…?” “And, the matron said it won’t hurt my condition either, so it’s okay for my health, too.” Hermione smiled. “Cool!” Cho could see it now, Decree, what… were they one now? 300? “No student will be allowed to hide accidents from…,” and she laughed out loud at the thought. It seemed impossible that the old hag would be able to enforce a rule like that. She had figure out who was hiding it before she could even act on it, and doubted the old hag had time to check every single seat after every single class to make sure someone had not used an illusion to hide something they did. Marietta looked at her in question. Cho just shrugged not even sure how to explain what she found so funny in a way that Marietta would enjoy the joke. Waiting at the entrance of the great hall, was the old monster mouth. “Did you kids miss a class this morning?” she said in her high pitch little girl voice. The four of them looked down. “You did, didn’t you? Now, as I understand it, Cho, you were sick and in the hospital wing, so you are excused, but….” “The others were there, too. They came to check on me.” “Hm…. I understand Marietta being a little concerned, but isn’t Harry and Hermoine a year under you, and in a completely different house? How would it be natural that they would check on you?” Cho shrugged. “Harry likes me, and I kind of like him.” “Oh, really? Is that all?” Harry and Cho blushed. “I told Harry, and the other girl was with him, that Cho was really sick from since last night,” Marietta lied. “I don’t like Harry that much, but I told him because I thought he should know since Cho likes him.” Professor Umbridge gave Marietta a look that caused her to look down and to the left, an indicator, that if you knew Marietta as well as Cho did, you would know she was lying about at least some of the story. Professor Umbridge sighed. “Go eat lunch, and no skipping your afternoon classes. Understand?” All four of them nodded and walked into the lunch room. Cho saw that Hermoine and Harry had found the red headed kid, one of the Weasley boys, and sat next to him while she and Marietta sat at the Ravenclaw table. Professor Dumbledore was at the head table as always, and he seemed to be in insistent communication by one troubled Professor McGonaggal. That was curious because the most severe of the teachers almost never showed concern in front of the students. She wondered if they were talking about the High Inquisitor or something, but whatever it was, they spoke low enough, or maybe had a magic charm around them, that they couldn’t be heard. “Does Professor McGonaggal look troubled to you?” Cho eventually patted Marietta on the arm and nodded up at the staff table. “Yeah, she does,” Marietta had probably noticed the way she kept shifting in her seat, and had her eyes narrowed, and kept stealing glances to the great doors of the hall and she whispered something almost every minute or two at Dumbledore who nodded. “Professor Dumbledore doesn’t look agitated at all,” Cho observed watching his sit with a serene smile on his face and his eyes twinkling in the candle light filled hall. “He’s never upset,” Marietta said as though she knew something. “We could be attacked by several dragons, and he would sit there as if nothing at all were happening.” Cho nodded. He did seem to hide problems pretty well from the students when he had to, like in their third year, when people were being attacked by some magic creature that had gotten lose in the school, and was later defeated, according to the headmaster himself and some others, by Harry Potter. Cho glanced sideways in time to see that the High Inquisitor was walking up towards the head staff table to take her place on the end. The way she walked with her head held high, you would think the place reserved for her at one end of the staff table was the place of honor, but then again, it didn’t matter where she sat. Cho and all the other students knew that she was basically in charge of the school at the moment. It was only a matter of time before she got rid of the Headmaster, then she would appoint herself as his successor. It was an honor she didn’t deserve, but it was one she would have in the end, if she had anything to do with it. Cho wished that somehow, Dumbledore’s Army, as they had nicknamed their DADA study group could find a way to dethrown this interloper and get her thown as far from education as possible in the future. “Yeah, like we can really find a way to convince the ministry to listen to us let alone find a good enough reason for them to get rid of her,” Cho chided herself softly. “What?” Marietta asked scooting closer to her wondering what secret her friend was trying to share. “Nothing,” sighed Cho. “I was just daydreaming, you know, about the nickname of our club. I know it’s not really meant to be against her, but I wish it was.” Marietta smiled and nodded. “Don’t talk about it here,” she warned Cho pointedly looking at the Slythern table. “I think the old hag has a few spies that are resting among us.” “What do you mean?” “Oh! You haven’t heard, have you? While you were in the hospital wing, she had made another decree.” “Yeah, I knew she would. She’s made almost a decree or two a day since she’s taken over, hasn’t she?” Marietta nodded. “Well, she has made a new post for students that she can trust. It’s even above prefects, and they are basically her snitches.” “What? That’s against what a prefect stands for,” Cho said. “A prefect is like an officer of order to keep the grounds safe and orderly. They can’t abuse their power or use their power to influence the professors because that wouldn’t be fair!” “That’s exactly why she made this new thing called the Inquisition Squad. The squad is supposed to report to her about anything they find suspicious, and she has promised that anyone that joins the squad will be above any suspicion, and that she will investigate and even punish without proof, anyone that is indicated by the squad.” “That’s just stupid! What is to stop someone on the squad from just accusing someone of something made of lunchmeat because they just want to get them in trouble?” “Do you mean, accusing someone with a bologna accusation?” Marietta asked. “Exactly!” “Nothing.” “How do you know so much about it?” “The old toad tried to tempt me with joining. She said I’d get extra credit and that my parents would be proud to hear that I’m setting a good example by enforcing the rules.” “You didn’t join, then?” “Of course not. One of the things I’d have to do, is spy on you, and she made it well known, that anyone on the squad that is found to know of something bad going on, but hides it only to have it come out by another on the squad will risk being in even worse trouble. There is no way I’m telling on the DADA because that will get you in trouble.” Cho nodded. She knew that Marietta was taking a big chance by objecting to join and placing herself in suspicion just to protect her big secret. “I’m sorry you were put in that situation.” “I’m not,” Marietta smiled and nodded towards Harry. “He might be leading us all to eventual doom and expulsion, but the more I see what is going on, the more I’m starting to agree with you, that we should fight it.” Cho nodded. As they were standing up to head for their afternoon classes, Cho noticed a group of green robed cadets marching towards the red and gold table to confront none other than Harry and Ron. “Marietta, there’s trouble,” Cho whispered. “Yeah, and we better get going or they will think we are involved.” “What do you mean?” “See those crests on those Slythern kids? Those are some of the High Inquisitor’s Inquisition Squad.” “No…. Not Harry!” Marietta frowned. “We can’t help him right now. If Harry sees you getting into trouble, he might fight and get in worse trouble. The best thing we can do, is avoid what is happening right now.” Cho looked in Harry’s direction, worried, but she knew that Marietta had a point. Harry was the kind of person that would fight more to get all the attention on himself in order to try to save his friends. Draco’s last words to Harry before Cho stepped far enough not to hear, was, “You know what this means, don’t you Potter?” Cho turned to Marietta. “From what I know of that Malfoy and his two goons, they should be the ones being interrogated by that frog, if she wants to find something wrong with the students! Their always causing trouble about the school.” “Yeah, them and a few other Slytherns,” Marietta agreed as they walked off towards their Herbology class. Finally, they had a break. The old toad was not seen in Sprout’s class, and they were able to work with a chemical that was sort of slippery and gooey, but not so dangerous that they needed gloves for it. It was likely that the ministry had toned down their Herbology class, too, but at least they could work in peace without the shrill laugh of that ministry lady interrupting and causing more mayhem in their class. The green house that they were in was quite hot and stuffy despite the chilled air outside. As they worked with getting the gooey slime to be the right consistency, sweat poured down sixth year faces, and Cho’s eyes stung a bit. Why were they getting this ready? It seemed that Professor Sprout needed to care for one of the other plants in greenhouse three. No one raised his or her hands in this class, and it seemed that most of the class feared even speaking too much or too loudly, as though raised sounds might mean that they were not doing the lesson correctly, and bring noisy old frog face in. Despite the fact that no one raised their hands or talked too much so that Cho or anyone would know what was going to happen, at the end of the lesson, another boy had trailing pee from his workstation, out of the green hours and ended in a huge puddle under him before he got to the steps to go back into the main castle. Cho just politely ignored him as did most of the other students. She did think a couple of Slythern kids were interested in what happened, but since she could really not do much to stop them tormenting the boy that peed, she just tried to forget about it. However, Marcus Flint, the Slythern in her year that was known as the most ruthless Quiddich player at school, poked his wand at the boy and caused him to float upward so he had no control over his movements, and then he started to push past anyone ahead of him, using the boy that peed his pants as a battering ram at those ahead so he could make his way towards the Inquisitor’s office. Cho rolled her eyes. Over the next couple of days, somehow, Cho and Marietta seemed to escape the attention of the Great Frog and her little toads. They even had a DADA meeting in the evening, where Cho met Harry. Somehow, since the old Toad had not punished her with her stupid pens for a while, it seemed that Cho had stopped having peeing problems, too, so when DADA was over, Cho was dry and in complete control of her bladder as she stood in front of Harry again. “There are rumors going around that you keep getting detention or something,” Cho told Harry. “They say that’s why there are not that many DADA meetings.” “I’ve had a few detentions, but it’s not only that. I’m also having extra lessons with Professor Snape, recently.” “Why?” “Professor Snape thinks I need a refreshing course in potions….” “Harry,” Cho looked down at her feet and blushed. “You can’t tell me that you are no good at potions….” “Why not?” “Well…, I just don’t believe it. Sure, you might not be as brilliant as your friend, but I doubt you’d need to take a make up lesson in potions or anything else. You aren’t hopeless at anything magic related, otherwise, you couldn’t teach us so well.” “Er… I’m not teaching potions, am I?” Cho gave him a stern look, her eyes watering and her face growing quite warm from being flustered and embarrassed. “You are not convincing.” “Fine. But you can’t tell anyone, not even your best friend. I am not allowed to let this get out, you see….” Cho nodded and crossed her arms waiting for him to tell her the truth. “I am learning to close my mind to mind altering magic.” “That’s got to be advanced stuff.” “I don’t know if it’s advanced or not, but I’m not doing very well with it, to be honest.” Cho reached over and took his hand and looked up into his eyes. “You are doing as well as can be expected,” she told him. “If you weren’t, they wouldn’t let you learn it.” Harry frowned. “I don’t think the old Toad knows I’m learning it.” “I know she doesn’t,” Cho whispered. “When I say they wouldn’t let you learn it, I was meaning Professor Dumbledore and the real people that are supposed to be in charge here, and not that Ministry Clown.” Harry smiled and chuckled. “How is your… um…,” he looked down at her bottom half of her robes not really wanting to say the words, but she could tell what he wanted to ask. “It’s getting a lot better, actually,” Cho told him feeling her warm face getting a little hotter. “I mean, I’m not wet every day now, and I only wet the bed the one time.” “I’m glad it’s getting better. Some of the fifth years are having a terrible time with that stupid ministry’s idea of how to punish kids. Ron’s little sister doesn’t seem to know how to stay out of trouble with the old hag, and I don’t think she’s been dry a full day since the hag started teaching her lessons.” “That poor kid,” Cho whispered. “And how is Ron doing? I… I hate to say it, but I noticed him at breakfast the other day.” “The whole school did,” Harry told her. “He’s doing alright now, but it was really hard to get him to come to classes that first morning.” Cho frowned. “I know how that feels. I may not have gone to breakfast in wet pants, but I’ve been caught in a few classes, wet, and I know exactly how that feels.” Harry nodded. “We have a Hogsmead visit coming up tomorrow,” Cho reminded him in a way of changing the subject. Harry nodded. “I know, right?” “I was thinking about our plan to meet in the great hall. I’m sorry, but Marietta thinks it’s a dumb idea to meet in the great hall together. She thinks Professor Umbridge would see us together and punish me just for hanging around you.” “I wish I could disagree with your friend,” Harry nodded with a frown. “But she is right. The old bat and her squad have it out for my friends or anyone that hangs around me. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen Hermoine in trouble before, she was in detention at least six times now, since classes started back up.” “So…. I still want to date you, if that’s okay. I just want to meet in Hogsmead instead.” “I agree. That would be safer. How about…. Do you know the Shrieking Shack?” “Of course, I do, Harry.” “Well, we can meet in front of that, if that’s okay with you. I’ll stay out of sight until I’m sure the Slytherns and anyone we know who is on the Umberbitch Squad is nto there, and then I’ll reveal myself to you, okay?” “Sounds good. First thing, then?” “Yeah.” Cho smiled delightedly.

For me it just sounds too much like exhibitionism and forcing people who dont want to be involved to be involved without their consent. I have no issue with what people wear but you just make it sound like the motivation is to force people to react to your diapered state and that doesn't seem respectful to be honest. Motivation is pretty important.

I’ve just been focusing on other stories. Worth the wait. You can’t undo what you write. If I forced a chapter just to do it, it would throw off everything that happened after. ————- Chapter 24. Jordan. Ever don’t feel like it? Sometimes I don’t feel like it. Which is why I let a couple chores slide a bit. Not a lot, just a bit. I hardly noticed the difference after a week, but as Katie helpfully explained to me, I’m a guy, and guys would live like pigs in the mud if we weren’t trying to impress woman, or if the women in our lives let us. “Jordan, could you come here. Please.” What I lack in the drive to do chores sometimes, I make up for in powers of observation. When Katie wants to discuss something, she comes and finds me. When I’m in trouble, she calls me to her. I couldn’t think of what I’d done, or what I hadn’t done. “Where are you,” I called out, trying to sound like nothing was wrong, that everything was fine and that whatever was bothering her was not a big deal, that I’d take care of it, no effort on her part necessary. “In my bathroom.” We share a bathroom. I don’t know why she called it hers. “What’s up, honey?” “You tell me,” she said. “I’ll be waiting in the bedroom.” She walked past me, leaving me in our bathroom wondering what the issue was. I hadn’t cleaned it very well, but it wasn’t dirty. The sink could use a rinse, so I did that. The bathtub did have the beginnings of a ring around it, because we do have hard water. I grabbed the sponge under the sink and made quick work of it. I’d washed the towels and rugs just two days ago. The floor was clean. I only use the toilet to ... It’s not like everybody flushes the toilet and then waits to make sure it didn’t clog. I mean, literally no one does that. You flush, you close the lid, you wash your hands, you move on with your day. Once in a blue moon does that formula not work. So I fixed that problem, and I tried to play it off like it was no big deal, because it wasn’t. And knowing that it wasn’t, I gave myself 60/40 odds of Katie choosing to see it that way. I’m not stupid. I knew she had been purposefully strict, absurdly so sometimes, even as she’d also become a lot gentler and more involved with my diapers. We were both getting more of what we wanted, even if her getting what she wanted meant me wincing when I sat a lot of the time. “Sorry, honey,” I said as I went into our bedroom. “All fixed.” “Are you having potty problems?” “What?” Wasn’t expecting that question. Was expecting, sort of, to be told to go to the guest room and wait for her, but wasn’t expecting that question. “You must be having potty problems. Maybe you’re not ready for the big boy potty at all yet.” I felt my stomach flip. Even with her changing me almost every day, she knew talking about diapers still embarrassed me. That’s why she did it, to watch me squirm. I like it a little bit. She likes it a lot. “I-i-it’s-s-s n-not a bi-big d-deal. It won’t happen again.” “Come here, young man.” The part of me that loves and hates this had my breath suddenly shallow. I shuffled over to where she was sitting on the bed, not sure if I was about to be pulled over her knee or if she was just going to lecture me some more, driving her point home in the most humiliating way she could verbalize. “Sit,” she said, and I did. “I know it’s a big change going back to diapees at your age, and it’s okay if you have trouble remembering how to use the potty. Is that what happened?” “N-no.” My mouth was so dry I couldn’t make my tongue work right. “It’s not?” “N-no. Really.” I had the sense I was walking into a trap. “So if you’re not having potty problems, than you should know better than to leave a mess.” She may as well have drawn an X on the bedspread to indicate ‘trap here,’ and I sat right on it. I don’t think there was a right answer to her question. “No, it, w-wasn’t that.” “Well, either you don’t know how to use the potty, or you were just naughty about it. So which one is it?” I don’t know what would have happened if I said I don’t know how. Probably something I wouldn’t like. Admitting to naughtiness - does anybody even use that word anymore - would earn me a spanking. Probably not an overly harsh one. She was spanking me more often, but it was a lot of small ones, not a lot of major ones. I’d be fine a half hour after she was done. I still couldn’t bring myself to say it though. Instead, I said, “I know h-how to u-use the p-p-...” “Potty,” she finished for me. I know she wasn’t trying to be mean, but I’m a little sensitive about my stutter. The dirty look I gave her was just reflex. I quickly put it away and stood up. “Where are you going?” “Um, to my corner?” She reached out and took my hand, tugging me back to the bed. “It’s very cute that you’d put yourself in timeout, but we’re gonna let the punishment fit the crime.” Before I could ask what that meant, she volunteered, “No potty until tomorrow.” “Kate!” “The potty is a privilege for little boys in diapers,” she shrugged. “You know I don’t do that, though.” “That’s what makes it a punishment.” “But ...” I felt my panicky. “Can’t you ... just spank me instead?” “You don’t get to choose your punishments, Jordy.” She stood up. “No potty until tomorrow.” “C’mon! Just ... I’ll go get the paddle.” I started out of the room, and she grabbed me by my upper arm. “No, Jordan Allen. No potty until tomorrow. That’s final.” “This is such bullshit!” Okay, so my emotions got the better of me and I swore. Swearing is not a big deal. Swearing at your spouse, or sort of half at your spouse and half at the stupid thing your spouse is doing, is. Of course, in a domestic discipline marriage, swearing like I’d just done is the equivalent of setting something on fire. Her hand was connecting with my butt before I could even apologize. At least I was diapered. I tried to apologize, but I don’t think she even heard me over the THWUMP sound a spank on a dry diaper makes and her own lecturing. “You naughty, naughty boy!” She was beating out time to her words on the back of my diaper. “You’re really gonna get it now.” And then I was a half step behind her while she pulled me toward the guest room slash place I change my diapers slash place I get spanked. “I’m sorry!” “Not like you’re gonna be.” At least I was getting the punishment I preferred. She marched me right up to the edge of the bed. “Stay.” “Kate ...” “No!” Did she just tell me ‘no’ like a toddler? It did not seem like an affectation. It sounded like it rolled off her tongue like she was actually scolding a toddler. And I did sort of feel like I’d touched the stove. She got the paddle out of the nightstand. “You do not swear at me, understand,” she asked as she sat down. “Yes,” I said meekly. “When you get upset, you count to ten and you talk to me appropriately. You do not throw a tantrum.” She was unbuttoning my shorts, and there was I was, just in my shirt and diaper. “In fact,” she said as she felt the front of my diaper, “swear words are off limits. They’re not for little boys in diapers. Over.” I laid myself over her leg on the bed. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.” “Darn right it won’t,” she said as she reached under me and pulled the tapes open. She pulled the diaper down in back but left it under me. That paddle fell on my butt like a kinetic weapon. I swear I remember a flash of light next. It was like my brain couldn’t handle all the pain signals so it sent some to my visual cortex. “You! Do! Not! Use! Bad! Words! At! Me!” “It was an accident,” I pleaded. That didn’t even slow the paddle down. She worked that same pattern of spanks across my butt, top to bottom, side to side, leaving no skin unspanked. That was the first time I ever got teary during a spanking without first feeling really guilty about what I’d done. I knew I shouldn’t have sworn at her. I only did because the punishment she was going to give me instead was just anathema to me. I’d never done that. I didn’t want to do that. I was shocked she wanted me to do that. She was only recently okay with pee. So I was sorry, but I wasn’t really feeling guilty. “Please! I won’t swear again!” “You (SPANK!) had better (SPANK!) Not (SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK)!” And then she stopped. “Am I going to hear anymore potty mouth from you?” (SPANK!) “No!” I took a look sniffle. “Do you remember what soap tastes like?” (SPANK!) Oh god, not that again. “Yes!” “Then you watch your mouth, buster. Up you get.” I stood up, and my hands went straight to my butt. My butt felt swollen. It wasn’t the worst spanking I’d ever gotten, but it was the most intense, and it had only lasted thirty seconds. Katie looked at me and shook her head and she sighed. “Sometimes I don’t know whether to hug you or keep spanking you.” I knew how I would vote. I got a hug, and she as she pulled away from me she took the diaper from between my legs. “Lie down, Jordy. Let’s get a new diapee on you.” Very carefully, I lay back on the bed. There’s no way to do that that doesn’t involve putting your butt down at some point. When I was diapered, and after Kate gave given me a couple pats that felt like spanks to my traumatized rear, she sat down next to me again. “C’mere,” she said, opening her arms again. I got closer to her, and we embraced, and she gave me a kiss on the head. I love that. “I know it really must be hard being put back in diapers ...” So I guess we were just running with that scenario now, as true as my supposed incontinence. Okay then. “And I know you must get really frustrated sometimes because you feel like a big boy...” The pain I was still in was the only reason I wasn’t protesting. I’m not an age player. I’m not. I’m just a DL. Maybe I like some things that go along with diapers. Maybe that little re-enactment we did triggered something inside me. It didn’t turn me into an AB or adult kid. And she knew that. She just loved this part of the dynamic, the erotic humiliation. I think it was probably the part about me being put back in diapers - dammit! I mean, my choosing diapers - she liked. It seemed she tolerated the diapers at first. I don’t think she would say they were one of her fetishes now, but I think she liked at least this aspect of it. They gave her a new way to needle me. “But when I give you a punishment and you get upset, there’s a right way to deal with those feelings. You can try to be like a big boy and accept it, or you can ask me to talk calmly about it, but you do not throw a tantrum. Understand?” “Yes.” I said it knowing I’d be in trouble if I didn’t. “Boys who throw tantrums get their diapers pulled down and get spanked on their bottoms, don’t they?” I could sense she was getting excited with each question. “Yes.” “Isn’t that what happened to you? Did you get your diaper pulled down and your naked caboose spanked?” There’s a limit to what I’ll tolerate. I guess that’s not it because I swallowed and said, “Yes.” “That’ll give you something to think about while you’re waiting for your potty privileges back.” “What!” “I told you, your punishment stands.” “But, I got spanked,” I whined. “For naughty words.” Her voice was comforting, the way she said that, calm, like she was explaining it to me very gently. That, more than the spa king and diapering and lecture and loss of potty privileges, made me feel like a little boy. The gentle explanation of why I was being punished, like I was six again and didn’t understand. I fast forwarded in my head and pictured the inevitable. “But I don’t wanna!” How’s that for a stellar argument? Not that there was any point to arguing. “Shhh... punishments aren’t supposed to be something you want.” “But ... I should get to choose how ... they’re my diapers.” “Not anymore, Jordy. That’s what being put back in diapers means. It’s not a choice anymore.” “But ... That’s not fair.” Ya know who whines about fairness? Hypocritical politicians, little kids, and me, apparently. “The choice you get until this time tomorrow is whether to hold it or use your diapees. That should give you plenty of time to think about not leaving messes for me in the bathroom.” “What if I can’t hold it?” “That’s what diapers are for, sweetie,” she explained again like I was still six and didn’t get it. All that was missing was for her to ruffle my hair. Which she then did. I felt defeated. Thoroughly spanked, thoroughly chastised, and put back in diapers. I wonder if I’d said yes all those years ago if I’d have had to use them for everything. At least I’d already gone when I woke up. Sometimes I only go once a day. I could hold it that long. It’d just be uncomfortable by the time I woke up the next day.

Meth head.

Randy frowned. "Well, then, I guess I'm going to have to stay with my little sister all day at school to keep those jerks off of you as much as I can. Hopefully, the teachers teaching in classes will be enough to keep them from giving you much trouble in class." He walked her to her second period class. "I will not leave your room unless the teacher is there to take care of you, and I'll be right back to your classroom as soon as I can so I can pick you up and take you to your third period, okay?" He kept his hand on her back and rubbed her back periodically to try to keep her comforted. He eyed younger kids and some of the kids in his year with a look that made them look down and away from his little sister. If she felt like everyone was picking on her, then he was going to make sure no one got a chance to talk to her unless they were going to be nice about it. He walked her into the second class, and sat down with her. When the teacher came in, he walked up to the teacher. "Rachel needs some rest," he told the teacher. "She's really tired because the kids in her class won't leave her alone. She doesn't want to say which ones because even when they get in trouble, they just get meaner." The teacher nodded and started to watch Rachel a little more carefully while Randy went off to his own class so he wouldn't be late for class.

Miramichi here! :)