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  1. We are now shipping the new 2020 version in all sizes, including large. (both colors: white and blue) Note: XL never changed. It has been the same from the very beginning. For Small, Medium and Large, back to original 2018 shape, tapes and construction but with some added polymers for extra absorbency. https://www.northshorecare.com/adult-diapers/adult-diapers-with-tabs/northshore-megamax-tab-style-briefs
    3 points
  2. Part 6 It was amazing to see how Georgie’s two visitors interacted with him. He hugged them both in greeting and their faces lit up in an obvious display of total delight. “Hi, I’m Melanie... I’m Georgie’s ba...” I stopped myself from saying babysitter as I didn’t want to embarrass him, “I’m looking after him whilst his mother’s working...” “Hi Melanie.” They both chorused as they immediately launched into a game that the three had probably played many times before. I stood and watched in amazement as these two older children willingly adopted a much younger role than I would suspect they did when not playing with Georgie. They rushed into the garden and started setting up various bits of apparatus, all the while giggling and chatting. Eric was the leader because he was giving instructions on how he wanted whatever game they were going to play, set up. Although Georgie was the eldest he happily took direction from the other two and judging by all the laughter, whatever they were playing was one they all enjoyed. I watched a little detached wondering if I should join in as I realised what they were building was a sort of adventure course. They’d run to one area say where the skittles were set out and they’d have to knock them over before they could continue to the next area where another ‘obstacle’ had to be overcome. Both Tammy and Eric were always attentive to Georgie and asked him if he needed anything or if he was still enjoying playing the game... his smile and gentle excitement encouraging them to carry on. Tammy wore a bright yellow dress over her leggings, whilst Eric wore a plain white t-shirt and a pair of well-fitting jeans, both looked their age. Meanwhile, Georgie, complete with his obviously well-padded bottom looked the part of an excited toddler. In fact, that’s just what he was. Despite all the exhilaration I never heard Georgie raise his voice. He didn’t scream or shout but was equally engaged and encouraging as his two friends. They seemed to know what was needed, what was to happen and what the next part of the game entailed. To be honest I felt a little redundant. It was Georgie who suggested I should join in whilst the other two looked hopefully on to see if a grown-up... me... would. I did ponder for a few seconds on whether I should stay aloof and let them get on with it but it actually looked fun... and I wanted to play and enjoy being part of the group giggles. I threw myself whole-heartedly into their game relieved to be silly for a couple of hours. It also meant I could join in all the hugs that went on when each part of the game was completed. There were no inhibitions just a very loving and tactile trio... erm, foursome. + We stopped for refreshments and whilst his friends drank their juice from glass tumblers, the fact Georgie drank from a bottle didn’t raise so much as an odd look. At one point I heard Tammy ask him if he needed a change but he just shook his head and they continued with their game. By 3 o’clock the energy levels of his visitors were still high but I noticed Georgie begin to sag a little. I went over and put my arm around him and asked if he was tired. He shook his head but I could tell he was wet. “Do you need a change sweetie?” He looked up through those lovely long eyelashes a little embarrassed and almost imperceptibly nodded. “Well let’s get you changed shall we.” Without me saying a word Eric looked up at the clock and apologised for the fact that they were both late and needed to be off. They were both sweet and polite kids as they thanked both me and Georgie for a fun afternoon and hoped they could pop around again soon. With that, they both kissed his cheek and disappeared out the door. “Well what nice children.” I whispered and guided my charge upstairs to be changed. + Like before Georgie took the lead by pulling out his changing mat and placing it on top of the bed. He lay out and, a surprise for me reached over for a dummy and slipped it between his lips. He started sucking on it immediately whilst I began to pull apart the press-studs under his swollen crotch holding his denim dungarees together. Once open his plastic pants were smooth and glossy shaped as they were over the soaked material and I have to admit, laying there as he was, he looked pretty amazing. His eyes fluttered shut as I eased them slowly down and set about unpinning the soggy material. He lifted his bottom automatically as I needed him to and reacted with a slight moan when I began to clean him up with a succession of cool antiseptic wipes. I spent perhaps longer than usual cleaning around his little plastic nub and taking in how clever but restricting the design was. He didn’t appear to mind me lifting and inspecting this little detail and, as he sucked happily, his eyes wavered between closed to barely open. Of course, over my career as a babysitter, I’ve washed quite a few messy boys and wiped their ‘equipment’ clean but theirs were hardly in the same grown-up league as Georgie’s. However, what was interesting, that whilst he didn’t seem to mind me paying such close attention to it, it did pulsate slightly and dribble a clear sticky fluid. I cleaned that up and proceeded to rub in some anti-rash cream before dousing him in baby powder. All the while he sucked gently on his dummy as if he was a small trusting child. Then once those preliminaries were complete I fitted him into a thick terry nappy with an extra soaker pad to be on the safe side. The pins weren’t as tricky as before so I guess I was getting better at the job. I saw that he had a fun pair of pink plastic pants covered in more doggies chasing each other so I slipped them up and patted them into place. He looked gorgeous – white t-shirt and slinky pink vinyl pants. I asked him if he’d like to nap but at that suggestion he immediately shook himself from his relaxed state and said he wanted to play with some toys. I was surprised because he’d looked so sleepy but I suppose it was just his way of reacting whilst getting his nappy changed. He waddled over to his toy box, still dummy in mouth, and took out a truck, placed it on his play mat and started chugging it around the track The play mat was quite nice because it had a road, play areas, colourful squares with all kinds of ideas. In the middle sat the start of his wooden train set and I could imagine, as his mother said, that this would inspire him to go off on incredible, imagined journeys. There were other cars and dolls neatly set out, which no doubt were other games he could launch himself into when alone. I watched as he began to push the truck around and despite him being a sixteen year old boy, with his glossy thick padding, and his childish enthusiasm, it still didn’t seem odd. Georgie appeared content so I left him alone as I went to dispose of his soiled nappy and wash my hands. There wasn’t a towel handy so I opened the airing cupboard and was happily surprised to see piles of thick new nappies and quite a selection of new vinyl pants... some had really fun (though childish) prints all over them... I couldn’t wait to start putting him in them. + When I’d first seen Georgie I’d been surprised and suspicious of this great big teen/baby and thought how awful it must have been to be trapped in such a mental turmoil. I had hoped that perhaps I could be the one to release him from what I saw must be very restricting for him, and thus he’d lead a pleasant teenage life from that moment on. Strange how just a few days can change a person’s mind? Now, I wanted to help dress him up in his childish clothes, feed him his meals, or suckle from a bottle. As long as I could spend time with this innocent boy I’d happily let him slurp sweetly on a dummy whilst changing his messy nappies. Simply watching him at play was something of a pleasure. He didn’t seem to need anyone else as his imagination held no bounds and he got caught up in his own little world. I watched enthralled as he as his glossy pink bottom crawled around his bedroom pushing this toy, engaging with another, having a two-way conversation with a stuffed dog or rabbit or teddy bear... it was wonderful to behold. My entire focus was on what an incredible person Georgie was as he scooted here and there, his thick nappy offering no restriction to what he wanted to do. I saw him stop for a moment and then turn his head to look at me. “Do you wanna play?” That gentle whisper, those big eyes searching from behind the floppy hair and long eye-lashes. My heart leapt. “Yes please... what are we playing?” “Cheer up!” I looked at him oddly. “I’m not sad.” His face beamed the most radiant of smiles. “No silly... we cheer up all my animals cos they don’t get to chat all the time...” He then blushed because I think he realised he’d said I was silly. “Umm, sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude.” He whispered in his defence. “No offence taken Georgie... and I think it’s very nice of you to keep all your lovely friends company.” He seemed relieved as I joined him on the floor and I ran my hand over his thick slinky protection and gave it a reassuring pat. “Who shall I talk with first?” “Jeremy.” He pointed to a large giraffe so I picked him up and told him what a big boy... errrmmm... giraffe he was and that we should go and chat to some of the other animals. “Does Jeremy get on with everyone?” I said picking up a stuffed lion and thinking they might be enemies. “Oh yes, everyone likes Jeremy and he and Leo are the bestest of friends because, well, Leo doesn’t eat other animals.” I could see I was going to have to learn all the relationships between this vast menagerie he had surrounding his room. Soon, Georgie was talking to me and the animals, encouraging, being friendly, sharing secrets... it was amazing just what went on in his head. Nothing deep but oh so imaginative... I was spellbound. + Time just sped by and it was just after six before I knew it. “Oh Georgie... I think it’s time you had something to eat.” Without any argument he tidied up the toys he’d been playing with took my hand and I led him to the kitchen. I’d never met a boy like him, there was a grace to his movement and the little smile he gave as our fingers touched was wonderful. What was also truly wonderful, his little waddle and gentle rustling of his plastic pants as he walked. Anyway, apart from my pleasure... I think he’d enjoyed our play time together. He went and sat in his chair as I checked out the fridge to see what meal his mother had prepared. There was a small dish labelled ‘SPAG BOL’ (with microwave cooking time) and a small side salad. Of course I could help myself to whatever I wanted and saw a chicken microwave meal so decided on that. Whilst that was cooking I saw a sippy cup of apple juice and gave that to him. Once it had warmed through enough I emptied it into the cheerful cartoon bowl he had in front of him. He used a matching plastic spoon for that but picked at his salad with his fingers. He seemed to enjoy his food as I detected he was wriggling in his seat a little bit as he ate. As usual, we ate in relative silence, but at one point some sauce fell onto his t-shirt and I felt stupid because I’d forgotten to tie a bib round his neck. Too late now but thought I’d better give that a soak as soon as we’d finished our meal and remember in future for him to always wear a bib. Once he’d finished his ‘spag bol’ and salad I asked him if it was a favourite meal and he nodded enthusiastically. “Mummy always makes nice meals.” “Okay, now you’ve finished... and I’ve let you mess your t-shirt, how about I give that a little soak before putting it on to wash?” He seemed unaware that he’d dripped any sauce and looked searchingly for the tell-tale smudge. “Ohhh,” he pulled a face. “I forgotted my bib.” “No sweetheart, I forgot your bib so it’s my fault but... let me take that and put it in the wash then you go up to your room, find a fresh clean t-shirt and bring it back down and I’ll help you into it... hhhmmm?” “Okay.” He said raising his arms for me to pull off over his head. “Thank you.” His hairless chest and soft childish appearance belied the fact he was my age. Standing in nothing but a thick nappy and rather fetching pink plastic pants he looked so adorable. “Right Mister... have you got a pink t-shirt to match your...” I pointed to his plastic pants. He nodded enthusiastically. “Right then sweetie... go get it whilst I dab a bit of Vanish on this stain and put it to soak for a while.” His face beamed with pride as he took off; the rustle from his nappy indicating just where he was in the house. Before too long he’d rushed back into the kitchen just as I put his mucky shirt in a bowl to soak. “My, you were quick.” I said drying my hands. “Let’s have a look at what you’ve brought.” The pink t-shirt was a lovely shade of pink and had a green cartoon dinosaur, which looked like one of his stuffed toys, on the front. “Is this a picture of one of you ‘friends’?” He beamed. “Danny.” I remembered – Danny the Dinosaur. He raised his arms and I slipped it over his head and pulled it down to his waist. It covered part of his nappy but I still took the opportunity to stroke his slippery padding and check he was still dry. He was... and his cuteness level just went up several notches. + ...to be continued
    3 points
  3. Chapter 14: Luckily the spring holiday was coming up, this meant Mom would be off from work and home for a period, allowing us to get used to the new situation of me using my diaper for all its intended purposes, which wasn’t exactly an easy transition. Mom was handling it pretty well, slowly getting used to the larger cleanup process that was required every time I had decided to soil myself, which in some cases required a trip into the shower, which after a couple of times turned into a bubbled bath in the bathtub instead, which Mom started taking more part in, making sure to give me a thorough washing off with a sponge and using plenty of the special soap and shampoo that arrived with every diaper order, making sure to wash and rinse my hair, which she had also taken to cutting herself one evening after finishing giving me a bath and deciding it had become too long and unruly, resulting in a “high and tight cut” combed to one side, which seemed to reduce my physical appearance by several years, by rounding out my face. A hair removal cream had also been added to our cleaning and changing routine, around once a week she would apply it to my crotch and diaper area, leaving me completely hairless and bare, making for a much easier cleanup process. For me the act of messing myself, was still a work in progress. Every time was a physical struggle, despite my mind being okay with the act of soiling myself, it still took a tremendous amount of pressure and strain to complete the act. The content being pushed out of my bowels wasn’t exactly soft and it would often take minutes of straining, grunting and pushing to allow it to make its way into the seat of my diaper, expanding it and making room for everything that I was forcing into it. Whenever the urge would hit, I would find myself squatting down as low as I would be able to go, hunched over, pushing and grunting, turning bright red, often my thumb would find its way to my mouth and in-between my lips in the middle of the process, it seemed to sooth me, while the seat of my diaper would slowly start to expand, as the mess would make its way into the diaper, splattering around my bum and up the back of the diaper, before I would finally let out a sigh as the pressure would decreases and I would find relieve, feeling empty and content, often finishing off by releasing a flood of urine into the front of my often already soaked diaper. Just like with peeing, it had been awkward to do around Mom in the beginning, but after a couple of times, the thought of embarrassing myself around her, soon faded to the back of my mind. She would have to clean and change me afterwards no matter what, so her seeing me in the middle of the act, really didn’t make a difference. A couple of times, I would simply squat down in the corner or later in the middle of the room, knowing full well she was watching and grinning at me, as I grunted and pushed a huge load into my awaiting diaper, my thumb firmly planted between my slobbering lips. It was never really a pleasant experience, the consistency of my messes and the pure effort it took to push it out, would have me dreading it every time and leave me exhausted and almost gasping for air after every relieve. At the end of the short holiday period aunty Karen dropped by with cousin Jack. We hadn’t really seen each other in a while, I knew Mom had been talking on the phone with Karen from time to time, but other than that, our communication had been slim. I was surprised to see how much Jack had grown in just such a short period, he was still very much a baby but considerably bigger than the last time I saw him. I hugged Karen ad greeted Jack as they entered the living room, completely aware that my soaking diaper was sagging underneath my grey sweatpants. I soon found myself sitting on the floor with Jack, who was in the process of learning to keep himself sitting upright, while I tried keeping him entertained with some of his toys that Karen had brought with them, as her and my Mom would catch up on the different aspect of their lives, until the subject ended up on me. “So, I couldn’t avoid noticing that someone seems to have gotten very used to wearing wet nappies around the house.” She chuckled gesturing towards me, as I rolled a foam ball across the floor towards Jack, waiting for him to roll it back. “Oh indeed, in fact he spends more time wet, than dry at this point. But it’s just not pee that makes his diaper sag anymore, I can assure you of that.” Karen eyes grew wide. “So you mean to tell me.” Mom was quick to cut her off. “Oh yes, he’s become quite a little messer this one. It’s been going on for a little while now.” Karen did could not take her eyes off of me, as a result of Mom’s announcement. I could feel her stare locked on me, but choose to fade it out, keeping their conversation as background noise, while continuing to entertain my cousin. “I can’t even imagine the cleanup that you must go through.” She took a zip of her tea. “Oh trust me, it’s really something. I thought that I was done changing messy diapers many years ago.” Mom let out a light chuckle, as they stared at us both playing on the floor. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. He seems to be slightly constipated if you can call it that. Ever since he started doing his messies in his diaper, he seems to strain himself an awful lot to finish. I was hoping you may have some brilliant new mom advice or trick up your sleeve.” Karen seemed to think for a while, before responding. “Well, normally if Jack is a little blocked up, I would recommend a bit of castor oil or in worse case a light enema. But with Patty here. Have you tried considering changing up his diet? It may simply be that his eating wrong or his digestive system is simply not digesting the food enough, which could lead to the hard stool and slight constipation. I’ve also talked to a few Moms who say that Milk is also a great natural of getting everything moving, the lactose should lube and smooth everything out they say.” Mom gave her a perplexed look. “So what are you saying?” Karen quickly responded. “If I were you, I would simply try changing the complexion and maybe even consistent of the food his eating, less protein and hard to digest food, more light carbs and fats. And if you do insist on him eating heavy meats and such, which he almost have to, he is a grown kid after all. Then give it a quick pulse in a blender, to make it easier for his system to digest. And then a couple of big glasses of fatty milk and you should be golden.” Mom was nodding along the whole time, taking in every piece of information that my aunt was throwing at her. They soon finished their talk and drinks, meaning it was time for Jack and Karen to get going, as my cousin was in need for a feeding and a nap. Karen made a reminder of giving my diaper butt, which had swollen considerably more doing their visit, a firm slap as we hugged and said our goodbyes. With Jack in one arm, she hugged my Mom goodbye, but took a second to give me a quick stare, before addressing her. “One last thing. I don’t mean to intrude or anything. But I couldn’t help to notice his thumb.” Mom looked back at me. “Oh yeah, he’s started to take a liking to it.” She gave me a caring smile, not wanting to upset me, by addressing my new infantile tendency. “You may want to find a replacement for it. Its rather unhygienic, as you never know where they tend to put that thing and he could also end up causing a rash or in worst case and infection by keeping it moist all the time.” She gave me one last smile, before once again hugging my Mom and exiting out the door. “I think someone is in need of a change.” Mom proclaimed as she turned to face me, closing the front door. As I was laying on the changing mat, my feet and bum in the air having my crotch wiped and powdered, I couldn’t help to think of when the whole diaper process first started and how the original plan was for me to start changing my own diapers, when Mom had the chance to teach and show me how to do it properly. That seemed like forever ago and didn’t appear to be something that I would get a chance to do in any near future, as another diaper was pulled between my legs and fastened securely around my waist.
    3 points
  4. CHAPTER 10 My plan went something like this: 1. Wait until my parents are asleep. 2. Swipe some cash from my father’s wallet. 3. Quietly slip out the bathroom window. 4. Hop down to the ground and hope I don’t break anything. 5. Go to the tiny Greyhound station I saw at a nearby strip mall. 6. Get a ticket for the next bus. 7. Go wherever it takes me. Okay, I’ll admit the plan has a lot of moving parts, any of which could go KABOOM on me at any point, but what choice did I have? I was relatively certain that my father made contingencies of some kind to keep me from leaving via the front door, so exiting in a traditional fashion was a no-go. Also, they were both light sleepers, so whatever I did would have to be done quietly. My options were limited. The biggest risk was getting from the window to the ground. The thought of leaping from the second story was terrifying, but I reiterate: what choice did I have? The money snatch went without a hitch. Off to a good start! I crept into the bathroom, took off the stupid-looking pajamas and diaper I had on and replaced them with the sundress I had previously been forced to wear. It still looked childish, but the duffle bag filled with my own clothes was in the trunk of the car and who knows where Dad kept the keys. I couldn’t risk it. I did manage to find a pair of annoyingly-cute sandals among the new stuff Mom bought for the trip though. Hey, it was either them or the freaky fetish shoes! Lesser of two evils, I’d say. I opened the window and looked down to see what I was up against. It was one heck of a drop, with nothing to break my fall but the cold, hard ground. I was hoping for a dumpster full of garbage bags or a mound of hay. A mound of hay? Jesus, Jo, why would there have been a mound of fucking hay? It’s not like this was a goddamn farm. My imagination gets away from me sometimes. My heart raced as I climbed up into the window, taking some slow, deep breaths meant to bolster my courage. My goal was to leap off in such a way that my ankles or knees wouldn’t take any damage should this get all fucked up. And that’s exactly what I did. I sprung off shoulder-first, sort of, and landed awkwardly on my back with my head smacking the ground hard enough to daze me for a few minutes. My upper back hurt a lot and it was impossible to take a deep breath without discomfort. I quickly took stock of the damage, focusing on my legs as a whole. They seemed to be okay. Getting up (with a great deal of back pain), I sprinted into the night toward the bus station. The place was a dingy hole-in-the-wall office with a smattering of mismatched chairs in an area that half-ass passed for a lobby. A kindly-looking older white woman with hair that couldn’t seem to decide if it was gray or medium-brown sat behind a counter in the back, along with a sturdily-built African-American man who was chatting with one of the seven people waiting on their bus. The people in the lobby area ranged from tired-looking people who had likely been on one bus or another for days to upbeat individuals just starting their journeys. Most were somewhere in between. I approached the counter, which I could only barely see over and asked when the next bus was coming through. The lady smiled broadly. “Well aren’t you just precious? Did your parents send you in to ask?” Shit. In this outfit, I did look awfully young and having practically no boobs didn’t exactly help my case. “Umm… no. I’m seventeen years old. I just want to buy a bus ticket.” The man behind the counter chimed in. “No offense, ma’am, but you don’t look anywhere close to seventeen. We’re going to have to see some identification, okay?” Identification! Damn it, damn it, damn it, damn it! My state-issued ID card was in my duffle bag. “Umm… I lost it yesterday.” The two Greyhound employees looked at each other briefly before she turned back to me and said, “Well, as soon as you find your driver’s license, we’ll see about getting you a bus ticket. Sound good?” “No,” I said in loud frustration, “it doesn’t sound good! It doesn’t sound good at all! All I want is a fucking bus ticket. Why is that so damn difficult?” All eyes were on me and all small talk ceased. It was dead quiet. The man, who had the patience of a saint, calmly tried to deescalate the situation. “Ma’am, please calm down. There’s no reason to get angry. If we sold you a bus ticket without identification, we could lose our jobs, okay? It’s not personal.” “I’ve got the money right here,” I shouted, as I plunked down the $800 I took from my father’s wallet. “Why can’t you just fork over a bus ticket, for shit’s sake? I’m not leaving until I’m getting on a bus!” The lady replied, trying to be as nice as possible. “We don’t make the rules, sweetie. Now please exit the building before we have to contact the authorities.” The man leaned in toward the woman and said, “Maybe we should just get a hold of them. Something doesn’t feel right about this whole thing and if that turns out to be true and she just walks out of here, we could be in a lot of trouble.” He didn’t want me to hear that, but I most certainly DID. The last thing I wanted was to be carted back to the hotel by the police. So, I dialed my approach in. “Allright, alright. I’ll just go back to my house, see if I can find my wallet and I’ll be back in a little while.” With that, I walked out. The bus idea had to be nixed. Another plan had to be implemented. As I walked across the various parking lots of restaurants, stores and an army recruitment center, I thought hard about what my next move needed to be. I could call a cab and have the driver drop me off somewhere in the city! After all, I had plenty enough money to get me by until I was a legal adult. Oh, no! The money! In my anger and desperation, I accidentally left the $800 on the counter at the Greyhound station! Turning around on the spot, I raced back in hopes that no one had snatched the money up. Flinging the door open, I barged in and saw that the money was no longer there. Out of breath, I managed to puff out, “Where’s… [huff] [huff]... my… [huff]... money?” The man who I conversed with earlier said, “I placed it in the lost and found basket. Why don’t you have a seat while I go into the back and get it for you?” I sat down as he entered a door behind the desk. When he was gone for a few minutes, I became suspicious. He was stalling! They called the cops before I even left the parking area! With the realization that my back-up plan had just blown up in my face, I rushed out the door with no destination in mind. I just had to get away… somewhere. Unfortunately, before I could get more than twenty feet away from the building, a police cruiser pulled in. When the officer saw me, she turned the lights on. I tried to flee the scene, but the athletic, young police officer — whose legs were longer than I was tall — caught me quickly. Déjà fucking vu.
    3 points
  5. I still have one oddball one out there I have to complete... But I'm glad you appreciate finished stories - I do too!
    2 points
  6. Chapter 19: My Only Wish “I told you already. The pull-up is dry.” Mom gave me a look that suggested she wasn’t entirely sure I was telling her the truth. I had barely finished taking my shoes off inside the front door and Mom was already interrogating me about whether I’d had any accidents at school. I told her that I’d had none. That was a lie, but since it was my sister’s pull-up that I had wet, there was no way Mom would be able to know otherwise. But I was also a bad liar, so while there wasn’t any proof that I hadn’t told Mom the truth, I suspected that she could tell something was amiss. “Well, let me see the pull-ups I sent with you to school.” I made sure to reach into the section of the backpack where I’d placed the nighttime pull-ups. I’d kept those separate from the pull-ups I’d taken from Emilia to reduce the chances of Mom finding out how I’d been disobeying her potty-training rules. I removed the two dry and unused pull-ups from the backpack and handed them to Mom. “Let me see the other one.” That gave me a brief jolt of terror. Had Mom sent me with more than two of the nighttime pull-ups to school? I was certain it had been just those two. How could I have lost one? “Those were the only two you gave me,” I said at last. “Sweetie, I meant I need to see the one you were wearing.” I did not want to strip off to just a pull-up in front of her and my sister. “Mom,” I said in a drawn-out whine. “You didn’t need to. Of course it is dry. What do you expect?” “It wasn’t dry this morning. Now let’s get your pants off.” That wasn’t fair. I couldn’t help what happened while I was asleep. Before I could utter a word in protest, Mom was already undoing my belt and buckle. Seconds later my jeans were in a pile on the floor. I avoided eye contact with Mom as she examined the pull-up I had on. Once Mom was satisfied that it was dry like I had said it was, she sent me off to my bedroom to get started on homework. I hadn’t doubted that Mom would make me wear pull-ups for a week, but I had kind of hoped she would at least spare me the indignity of having to parade them around the house for the whole time. I took a seat at my computer and began working on an essay for one of my classes. I hated not being able to cover up the pull-up. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t keep myself from constantly glancing down at it. But the pull-up remained wrapped around my waist as a humiliating reminder of how I’d been losing control of my bladder. Every time I tried to wiggle into a more comfortable position in my chair – sitting too long in one spot caused the fabric to make my skin feel uncomfortable – the tell-tale crinkle from the pull-up was there to remind me. I’m sure there were things I could look up online that might help me figure out what was going wrong with my body. I knew I wasn’t the only teenager to ever experience this problem. The pull-up I’d found at school stood as evidence of that. But Mom had those child monitoring – spying was what they actually should be called – apps on my computer and my phone, so any searches about the subject would raise way too many questions. The nurse at school was a no-go as well. The school district’s policy was that parents had to be informed about any visits to the nurse. That policy had gotten put in place after a spat over students being given medications without their parent’s knowledge or consent, but the policy extended to parents being informed of any trip to visit the nurse and the reason for that visit. I struggled to get started with the essay for the history class. It only needed to be five paragraphs. Why did it have to be so hard to write even that much? I’d rather do a whole page of algebra equations. The paper wasn’t due for a week, so maybe I could offer to do some of Samantha’s math homework in exchange for her ghost writing this assignment. “Sarah, time for a potty break.” Again? Already? I took a look at the word count: sixty-three words. How was I supposed to get my homework done if I keep getting interrupted like this? I’d gone to the toilet a little less than twenty minutes ago. “Mom, it hasn’t been thirty minutes yet.” “I know, but Emilia needs a potty break, so we may as well get yours done with. It’s so much easier to keep you two on the same schedule.” Remind me, why in the world had I ever wanted a younger sister in the first place? I got up from my computer desk with a loud sigh. I did need more frequent bathroom breaks than normal, but this was ridiculous. “What did I just hear, young lady?” “Nothing, I’m on my way.” I entered the bathroom to see that at least part of Emilia’s potty break had already happened in her pull-up, as its wetness indicators had all but faded away. Mom had Emilia seated on the toilet, but the silence suggested that my sister didn’t seem to have anything left in her bladder. “Emilia, look at your sister,” Mom said, while pointing her finger directly at my pull-up. “You see how Sarah’s pull-up was still dry. That’s what you need to be doing too. She isn’t going potty in her pull-up.” “Sarah, let Emilia see your pull-up,” Mom added a second later. I hadn’t even realized that I had been subconsciously holding my hands over the front of the pull-up. I raised my hands to show Emilia that my pull-up was indeed dry. “Sarah, come here and show Emilia how to go potty like a big girl,” Mom said, helping Emilia off the toilet seat and removing the potty-training booster seat from it. Peeing was not supposed to be a performance art. It took me two full minutes before I was able to generate a brief stream of urine that splattered into the toilet. ----- I kept my pull-up dry the remainder of the evening. Given my previous accidents that might seem like an accomplishment, but Mom made me go to the bathroom every half-hour, meaning that I had taken about a dozen trips to the toilet since coming from school. I’d given up on any attempt to argue with Mom over it. All I had to do was make it to the end of the week and then I could get Mom off of my back and work on dealing with my bladder issues on my own terms. With the constant toilet trips while at home and with using my sister’s pull-ups to hide any accidents that might happen at school, I was confident I could make it to Sunday evening without Mom discovering any daytime accidents. What happened at night was another story. I’d now wet my bed twice – once without Mom noticing – after going years and years of keeping it dry every single night. My only saving grace with that if Mom was truly making me follow the same potty-training rules as Emilia, then at least nighttime accidents wouldn’t count against the daytime potty training. I finished my final trip to the toilet before bedtime, cautiously optimistic that it might be enough to hold off my bladder until I wake for school in the morning. Mom was being more cautious than optimistic. “If you have an accident...” “Mom. I’m not going to. That was the first time in like forever.” “I’m just saying. If you do have an accident. You need to let me know so I can get you cleaned up.” Just a few days ago Mom had been trusting me to change Emilia’s pull-ups and diapers. Why couldn’t she let me change my own? Having Mom put me in a pull-up was bad enough, I didn’t want to deal with her changing me after I’d wet one. But there was an easier solution than arguing with her. I just needed to wake up dry. ----- I woke up long before my alarm was set to go off. I was filled with that sense of foreboding that you get when you know you were worried about something the night before but were still too tired to recall precisely what it was that had concerned you. The reason behind that concern didn’t evade me for long, as I only had to shift slightly in the bed to become aware of the wet sheets I was laying on top of. Fuck. I didn’t want to do anything. I didn’t want to deal with this. I couldn’t deal with this. At last I forced myself to roll from being on my back to being on my stomach, even though that again forced me to confront the feeling of the wet sheets against my skin. I buried my face into my pillow and cried. This had to be a dream, a nightmare that I would eventually wake up from to find myself in bed, wearing panties that most definitely were not soaked through with urine. But I didn’t wake up. I didn’t even manage to fall back asleep. I just lay there in bed, listening to the sound of my sister breathing softly as she lay asleep in the crib. I was still too tired to think straight, but I knew I didn’t want to lay awake in a wet bed until morning. The last thing I wanted to do was wake Mom up in the middle of the night to tell her that I had wet the bed again. However, I wasn’t going to fall back asleep in a wet bed. I rolled over to the side and looked at Emilia’s crib. She appeared to be sound asleep. Every sound felt as though it was being amplified in the dark, as I tried to stealthily maneuver around the room. The creaking floor. The groan of the dresser as I pulled it open. And, of course, the pull-up just wouldn’t stop with the crinkling noises. I knew Mom had told me not to change myself, but at the rate I was going, this next pull-up would probably be wet in the morning as well, so maybe she wouldn’t notice. I grabbed a dry pull-up and slipped into the bathroom so I could have enough light to get myself cleaned up and changed. Once in the bathroom, I took a closer look at the pull-up. These were made for kids who wet the bed, so why on earth had it leaked twice on me? Could it be a bad batch? Did it rip somehow? As I looked the pull-up over, it was clear the only reason it had leaked was because it had already absorbed as much urine as it could. Completely useless. May as well wear panties to bed for all the good these pull-ups were doing me. With a fresh pull-up and dry pajamas on, I stripped the wet sheets off of the bed and replaced them with clean ones from the closet. It would be too noisy to do laundry now, but I could at least put the wet sheets in the washing machine and get it started in the morning before school. With the wet blankets and sheets wrapped in my arms, I tiptoed down the hallway and past the kitchen to the laundry room. “What is going on here?” I jumped as I turned around to see Mom standing at the door to the laundry room with a full view of me placing the wet sheets into the washing machine. “The pull-up leaked, so I was putting the wet sheets in the washing machine so they could get cleaned in the morning.” “Your pull-up doesn’t look wet at all to me.” I’d forgotten that I hadn’t replaced the wet pajama bottoms that I’d taken off, which left my pull-up completely visible to Mom." “It was...” I started to say very wet, but I couldn’t bring myself to admit how bad the accident had been. “...uncomfortable so I took it off.” “Don’t you remember what I told you last night?” “I thought.” “No, you didn’t think. You didn’t take the time to think. Because if you had, you would have thought about how I had specifically told you to come to me if you needed to be changed.” I couldn’t think of anything to say in response, so I instead mutely nodded my head. “You know better than to disobey me. We’ll need to deal with that before you go back to bed. Go sit on the living room couch. I’ll be there in a second.” I knew what was in store for me right away, but I was tired, and I didn’t care. I just wanted to get this over with and get back in bed. I had expected to see Mom holding the spanking paddle when she walked into the living room. That’s usually what happened when she would have me wait there for her to go get something. Mom came back without the paddle in her hand, but she didn’t come back empty-handed. I couldn’t make out what the small object was that she appeared to have enclosed in her fist. “Put this in your mouth. I don’t want you waking your sister.” Mom held out one of Emilia’s pacifiers. “Mom. No.” “Quiet. I’m not dealing with Emilia waking up as well.” Mom jammed the pacifier into my mouth. I really hoped she had washed it. It wasn’t as bad as I had thought it would be. The pacifier material was bland, tasteless, and squishy. It didn’t quite fit right in my mouth, but I guess they didn’t exactly make pacifiers big enough for teens. I was grateful Emilia was asleep in bed and not witnessing the spanking this time around. Mom patted her lap, and I knew what she wanted me to do. I laid down across the couch so that my bottom was squarely on her lap. Mom placed her hand firmly on the part of my butt cheek that wasn’t covered by the pull-up, marking the spot where she was going to be hitting me. Whack. Even without the paddle, the first strike to my bottom still stung. Had it not been for the pacifier in my mouth, I probably would have let out a yelp. Instead, I shut my eyes and bit down onto the pacifier as hard as I could. I didn’t know if the effect was real or just a placebo, but it certainly felt like the spanking hurt much less because I was using the pacifier, not that I would ever tell that to Mom. Mom alternated her swats between both sides of my butt, always striking my bare skin, and not where I was covered up by the pull-up. After the first five or six hits, I at last opened my eyes again. Emilia was peering out from the edge of the hallway, her own pacifier nestled in her mouth. We made eye contact briefly, but before I could spit the pacifier out of my mouth to say something to Mom, she disappeared around the corner. The spanking continued for another minute before Mom finally relented. The good part about Mom using her hand to spank me meant that it hurt her as well if she struck me too hard. “Mom, Emilia was watching,” I said as soon as Mom took the pacifier from my mouth. Mom turned around instantly to look at that hallway. “I don’t see her.” “I know. She went away when she saw that I had noticed her.” If I had to get a spanking for getting out of bed, then I wasn’t keen on letting Emilia escape without facing similar consequences. Mom didn’t seem as concerned. She turned her attention back to me. “Now what have you learned?” Mom asked, as she helped me off of her lap and on to my feet. “To make sure to let you change me.” “No, that wasn’t the lesson. Try again.” “Not to disobey you.” “Right, now get yourself back to bed.” Mom followed me back to my bedroom. Emilia was indeed back in her crib with her eyes closed. Mom gave Emilia a nudge, but my sister didn’t stir. Either that brat was faking it, or she had really managed to fall asleep again in only a minute or so. “She’s asleep, just like you should have been,” Mom said, ignoring the fact that I had to wake up to deal with the wet pull-up and bed. I didn’t respond as Mom left the room. I simply pulled back the sheets and crawled into bed. My only wish at this moment was to be able to be able to sleep a full night and not have a wet bed to deal with in the morning. Was that too much to ask for?
    2 points
  7. Written as a commission, the story is planned out for a good long while. Chapter 1 “Do you think she’s dead?” Quinn asked, peering over the log towards the mouth of the cave. “Shh,” Sandra hissed. “If she got in a fight, we’d have heard it by now,” Hadrian added. “But Sandra’s right. We should be quiet.” The big half-orc frowned, but rested his elbows on the ground and put his chin in his hands, relaxing as he watched. “I figure she’s dead. Been almost an hour.” Sandra glared at her two colleagues. Though formidable in their own fields, they were about as subtle as a tarrasque in a tea shop. “Quiet. The wizard could be listening.” “She’s not dead,” Hadrian repeated, raising his wrist to look at his hand-wound watch. “And it’s been only fourteen minutes. Your sense of time is askew.” “Your watch is wrong,” Quinn muttered back. “I’m following the sun. It says that it’s been almost an hour.” “I made this watch myself,” the wizard hissed back, his softly-pointed ears twitching in annoyance. “It’s not wrong.” “Children!” Sandra snapped, louder than either of them. They both looked back at her in unison. “Shhh!” She groaned, turning her eyes back towards the cave. Quiet, moving like silk over stones, their ranger left the dungeon and crept back towards them. “See? She’s not dea- ow!” The wizard yelped, as Quinn slapped him on the shoulder. Tarja Turunen was a beauty, even in her studded leather armor. Gliding towards the rest of the party, she slipped over the log and crouched. “Traps?” Sandra asked, quietly. “Traps,” Tarja nodded. “A lot of traps. I didn’t see any enemies, but it’s basically wall-to-the-wall with crossbows, swinging hammers, you name it.” “We take our time then,” Sandra declared. “I’ll take point, make sure everything gets disarmed.” “If I get shot with a crossbow trap you missed, I’ll take it out and stab you with it,” Quinn growled. To someone who didn’t know him, it would have been a threat, but Sandra recognized it as a vote of confidence. Sandra looked at their ranger. “Tarja, is it safe to just walk up?” “Safe enough, but be careful once you step inside,” Tarja replied. “We’ll be right behind you if you get into shit.” She looked over at Hadrian. “And you’ve got your wizard stuff ready to dispel anything that gets tossed at me, right?” “Absolutely. No spell will molest you while I’m there to warn you.” Sandra nodded, hopped over the log, and strolled into the dungeon. Easy money, she reminded herself. She was taking point in the most dangerous part of the dungeon, but that wouldn’t be a problem. The reward was supposed to be high, the risk was low, by the time the sun was down they’d be back at the tavern drinking ale and celebrating good fortune with good friends. Pupils shifting as she walked into the darkness, Sandra scanned the ground for danger. Nothing, for about twenty feet, and then… Aha! A trip line. It was an old standby, and for good reason: Easy to build, hard to spot. Maybe it would trigger a crossbow, maybe it would drop boulders on her head, maybe it was actually there just to make her trip. Either way, it was her job to dismantle it without getting hurt. She started to move to examine it closer, then frowned. That’s too easy. Stepping back, she crouched low and surveyed the ground again. There was more gravel here than anywhere else, scattered over the floor, as though it were hiding something else. “Clever, clever,” she whispered, spotting the pressure plates. Tip-toeing up, she spun shadows around her hands, perfectly weighted tools appearing between her fingers. Reaching the pressure plates, she got to work. It was slow going, tedious, and exhausting. The dungeon crawl was the least exciting adventure she could remember being on. Few traps were even as clever as the first one, and most were dithering and poorly put together, like the wizard who’d set this all up couldn’t even be bothered to make traps that would even kill people. She found a pit with no spikes at the bottom, a spring-loaded dart gun with no poison, and even a rope dangling from the ceiling of the cave that, if pulled, would dump a bucket of water on the victim’s head. The design was childish to the extreme, but she tried not to let her guard down as she worked, methodical and deliberate, deeper into the cave. An hour later, though, she’d had enough. Sandra stood up straight, faced her party, and announced, “Okay, I’m done.” “The traps are gone?” Quinn asked. “The traps are harmless,” Sandra explained. “It’d be faster to just walk through here and trigger them all than to disarm them, and about as productive. The most dangerous thing I’ve seen them do is weak enough to be countered by a ‘Cure Light Wounds’ potion.” Hadrian frowned, his expression ashen and grey in the near perfect darkness of the cave. “That doesn’t seem wise.” “I’m not saying we just stumble through blind, I’m saying that I don’t need to disarm every last one,” Sandra explained. “Just keep your eyes open and you’ll be fine.” Quinn started to walk forward, needing no other convincing, but Tarja put up a hand to stop him. “Sandra. Are you sure about this?” “As sure as I can be. If the wizard could make better traps, he would have by now.” “Hadrian, what are your thoughts?” Tarja asked, still unconvinced. “Well, I’d need to think on it for a spell.” Scratching at his hairless chin, he said, “It’s possible that this is all an elaborate trap in and of itself. Tire out our expert, make her careless, then spring the tricky traps a moment later. It’s what I might do, if I had enough time and resources.” “It’s a lame idea,” Sandra shot back. “We’re not the first crew to come through here, and any idiot can disable these traps. Hell, someone sturdy enough could just walk right into them and be fine. Would you want to spend eight hours carefully resetting basic traps just to try and tire out the next chucklehead party to wander through?” “No,” Hadrian replied. “I wouldn’t. The wizard could have constructs, though, or-” “Have you seen any constructs?” Sandra asked. “No.” “So, my point stands. If someone else wants to take point and tediously scan for trip wires that unleash slingshots and pebbles, be my guest. I’m done.” Her party shuffled their feet, but nobody stepped forward. “That’s what I thought.” Turning to face down the cave, she started walking forward. She wasn’t careless - she didn’t go around stomping on pressure plates just for the hell of it, but she also didn’t pay any particular attention to small details, either. It worked out approximately like she’d expected. A rock pelted her on the shoulder, and at one point she had to get out of the way of a slowly moving log that could have been seriously dangerous if she’d been tied up and completely unable to get out of the way for twenty seconds or so. Naturally, she didn’t see the first real trap until it was far, far too late. It came out of nowhere. Sandra didn’t even see what had triggered it - one moment, they were walking forward, cautious and mindful of danger. The next moment, a fluttering swarm of what looked like insects swooped in from the ceiling, making a beeline towards Hadrian. He had time to call up a shield, but they ignored the magical barrier, and his attempts to slap them down proved to be of little use. Sandra couldn’t get a good look at the creatures. In the black-and-white of her darkvision, they looked to have a bulbous head and a shield of some kind of chitin, or… plastic? Maybe there are constructs after all. Everyone drew their weapons, but the wizard ended it before they could close in, opening his mouth wide and calling out a word of power, waving his hands and producing a burnt piece of bark from his component pouch. Sandra wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw one of the bugs fly into his mouth as he called up the spell. Before she could look again, a stormcloud appeared around the wizard’s head, crackling with electricity and power. A shadowy black blade in her hand, Sandra watched cautiously, not wanting to charge in and start swinging at the space occupied by her party member. Tarja was no better. Even as precise a shot as the ranger was, she couldn’t hit a target she couldn’t properly see. Add in the proximity to the wizards’ head, and shooting would be unnecessarily dangerous. Quinn seemed ready to charge, first, but after twenty four seconds the stormcloud disappeared, and the swarm clattered to the floor. Hadrian looked frazzled, having been shocked by his own spell, but he wasn’t about to go down for the count from it. He spun, facing Sandra. “What’s in your mouth?” she asked, walking up. One of the objects had gone in after all, but now that it was in place and unmoving, she could see that it was no bug. As the wizard opened his bag to let out his creepy little familiar, shedding some light in the room, she confirmed that it was indeed plastic, pastel, and- “Is that a pacifier?” “Ah baba phoo bwaah!” Hadrian said, annoyed. “A- Buh?” She could detect the magic on the pacifier, plain as day. She identified it as an enchantment, and with careful examination of the threads of power, she saw that it was some kind of speech-incapacitating curse. “It’s keeping him from talking,” she said, walking up. He didn’t need to move his lips to say, ‘No shit’, his expression did that plenty well. Pawing at his mouth, he tried to pull the pink pacifier out of his mouth, but it didn’t budge no matter how hard he pulled. Inspecting the pacifiers on the floor, Sandra could sense that they were all enchanted like the first, the magical aura on them identical to the one in Hadrian’s mouth. If he hadn’t thought fast while they were in a swarm, they might have gotten to the whole party, rendering everyone effectively mute. Sandra nodded, impressed. Good work, Hadrian. Reaching out, she hooked a finger around the plastic loop at the end of his pacifier, pulling experimentally. The pacifier popped free. “Ah- Baba?” he said, still annoyed, hands on his hips. “Ah, towd, you, so!” “Ah, thank the gods it isn’t permanent,” Sandra said, sighing in relief. “How do you feel?” “Vindicated!” Hadrian shouted. “I told you-” They both looked up suddenly, feeling the magic stirring in the air. It wasn’t just a trap. It was an attack. Energy swirled, nebulous and powerful, glittering in Sandra’s supernatural senses. She flicked her hand to call up a shadowy umbral blade, going back-to-back with the wizard as they prepared to ward off the spells. Quinn raised his own weapon, a wicked-sharp greataxe, bellowing in fury as he summoned his own strength and got ready for a fight. Tarja, for her part, had put her back to a wall and notched her bow. The attack was coming from the mouth of the cave. Past the edge of how far she could see in the dark, Sandra could only make out vague shapes. They cast vicious shadows in the light of Hadrian’s ioun familiar, and they were barreling forward at terrifying speed. Sandra wasn’t ashamed to break first. “Run!” she called out, feet starting to move under her as she scrambled deeper into the cave. “Retreat! We’ve got to get to a choke point!” She wasn’t fleeing in fear, she was making a tactical move towards a potentially superior position. Without her to aid in the fight, the rest of the party didn’t see any chances in staying put. She forced their hand, making them run or fight at only three-quarters strength. As a group, they fled, escaping the charging monsters by running deeper into the lion’s den. Quinn’s leg snagged on a bit of ribbon, stretched across the ground like a tripwire. He went down, and when he came back up, the ribbon was twisting around him like a serpent. Bellowing, he put on more speed, getting to the front of the pack as they got deeper into the cave. A pressure plate shot a blast of brilliant white magic up at Tarja, making the fabric around her legs and hips buffer in the gale, then settled. She didn’t seem hurt, and if the magic was intended to slow her, it didn’t work. Sandra was so busy watching her allies, ensuring that they were all together in their flight, that she didn’t see the trap right in front of her until she’d planted her foot in the low pit. It wasn’t even one of the good traps. She’d been caught off guard by a hole in the ground. Rolling onto her back, the fear overtook her, and she screamed as the monsters finally got close enough that she could see them forward, loping towards, grizzly fur and white teeth becoming visible. They were bears. Dozens of them. Dozens of… Teddy bears. Getting back up, Sandra felt suddenly silly for having been so afraid. Whipping out her shadow sword, she called, “We can take them here!” Hearing her call, her party turned one by one, came to the same realization, and together stood their ground against the oncoming horde. Fur and fluff were cut and thrown as they cut through their enemies, so caught up in the heat of battle that little else seemed to matter. Sandra danced from side, eviscerating the teddy constructs when they weren’t looking, shattering their candy hearts with well placed strikes. Tarja simply skewered them like pincushions, turning the teddy bears into teddy porcupines as each one fell in turn. Quinn wasn’t so subtle, simply ripping one bear apart with each swing of his huge axe. Hadrian… “Hadrian, what in the planes are you doing?” she called over her shoulder, looking back at the wizard. He looked confused, hands moving, mouth open as he called up magic, but his usual volley of attacking spells were not flying. There was no time to think about it, not until the fight was over. She skewered one more teddy, then dropped her blade, letting it dissolve back into shadow as her allies finished off the last handful of enemies. “Hadrian!” she called, running up to him. “Are you alright? What’s wrong?” “Abbh-tthbt!” he said, frowning. “Ah… Bah. Ahbabha.” “Can you understand me? Nod if you can understand me.” He looked at her blankly, as though she were the one speaking gibberish. Looking down, Sandra spotted a pressure plate sunk into the ground. He’d tripped some sort of magical trap, and now he couldn’t speak. “Hadrian’s down for the count,” she said, turning to face the others. “I don’t know what hit him, but he’s not talking. I think it’s like what the pacifier did. We might need to get him to a cleric to reverse the curse, and-” She blinked as Quinn walked into the light. He was wearing… a dress. A pink, frilly dress, with strands of lace that were tied up in poofy sleeves and stitched around the hem of his skirt. “The ribbon,” Quinn explained, his face almost as pink as his pretty dress. “It… got around my armor. Into my armor, I think.” Sandra approached, feeling the fabric of the dress. It was sturdy, and though it looked delicate and fragile, it felt more like well-treated darkwood. It was hard, and flexible, and… “It is your armor,” she declared. “Or, at least, it’s similar to your armor.” “What’s the point in a transmorg- Transgom- a spell that changes my armor, if it doesn’t leave me defenseless?” Quinn asked, frowning, an expression that was particularly intimidating on his bullish face. “I’m not sure,” Sandra said, looking over at their changeling ranger. “Tarja, what happened to you?” “I- Nothing,” Tarja said. “I resisted it.” Sandra accepted the statement at face value. “I’m just glad nothing got me, either. All I did was trip.” “Eh… Sandra,” Quinn said, scratching his head. “You don’t feel that?” She felt a chill go down her back. I’m injured. I’ve been impaled, and I haven’t yet felt it. Oh gods… I can feel it. I can feel the blood on my pants. There’ll be pain any minute now… “I… do we have any potions?” she said, clutching at straws. “A healer’s kit. Anything.” “For what?” Quinn asked. Sandra blinked, daring to look down at her injury. “For what? For… uh…” Oh. She hadn’t been impaled, or cut, or anything else. The warmth she’d felt on her pants wasn’t blood at all, it was pee, darkening the dense fabric of her pants. “When… when I fell,” she said, realizing as she spoke it aloud. “I felt cold, and there must have been some kind of fear spell.” “Nothing you can’t clean up later,” Tarja said. “Let’s go, before we get attacked again.” “Wait a minute…” Quinn said, pointing deeper into the cave. “That looks like a camp to me.” Following his gesture, Sandra peered into the darkness. At the very edge of her darkvision, there was a firepit with a pot over it, though the embers had long since dwindled and died. Stepping closer, she saw a couple storage chests, a tent, a work table, and pail of water. All the amenities that a lone wizard would need. “I think you’re right.” Raising an eyebrow at Quinn, she asked, “What say we go find this wizard and make him fix what he broke?” Quinn was on board immediately, hefting his axe. Sandra expected more argument from Tarja, but even she agreed, tentatively stepping forward. “Hadrian, stay close,” Sandra kept her voice low. “Tarja, we’ll sneak forward together, get the drop on him. Quinn, you’ll-” “I know,” Quinn interrupted. “Once the music starts, I’ll be ready to dance.” Sanda nodded, calling up a lengthy dagger of shadow and creeping forward. Wizards weren’t known for their stealth, and she couldn’t detect any magical invisibility, which suggested that he was hidden in his tent. She approached, her footsteps silent save for a subtle ‘squish’ of her socks, and Tarja was following on her heels, longbow drawn. No more traps were sprung as they got on either side of the tent. Sandra held up three fingers, counting down to two, and one, and then it was time to strike. She cut down the side of the tent, lunging inside with a deadly strike that would- It was empty. The tent wasn’t just unoccupied, it had been stripped clean. There wasn’t so much as a bedroll. Sandra frowned, stepping back through the hole she’d made in the side. “It’s empty!” “Huh?” Quinn shouted back. Tarja peered inside, confirming things. “He’s not here!” The half orc lumbered over, holstering his axe on his back. “He rabbited?” “Maybe he slipped through a Dimension Door when we got close,” Sandra suggested, “But that fire’s totally dead, and the tent it stripped bare. I think he’s been gone for a long time.” “Damn,” Quinn said, looking down at his pink, frilly ‘armor’. “Do you suppose Hadrian will be able to dispel this?” Hadrian wandered up behind Quinn, frowning in puzzlement at the group, crouching to look in the tent. “Hah-muh?” “Maybe,” Sandra hedged. “Let’s see if there’s anything worth taking. Quinn, can you check the perimeter?” “Checking for bushwhackers,” Quinn agreed. “Got it.” While he walked the edge of the cave, looking for hidey holes, Sandra started working on one of the chests, shadowy lockpicks working to get the box open. Thirty seconds later, she had the box open, and a minute later, she had unlatched both. The first was packed with rations, clothes, and general travel supplies. Sandra’s magical senses tingled as she picked through it, and came out with a pair of… “Enchanted underwear?” Holding up the plain, white briefs, Sandra focused on the magic, trying to detect its purpose. After some concentration, she thought she had it: A self cleaning spell. Briefs that never needed cleaning would be quite handy on the road, and they’d be a lot better than walking back to town in soggy panties. She took a second to glance in the second box, which was half full of parchment, books, and various magical components, then told Tarja, “I’m going to get cleaned up in the tent. Give me a second.” Tarja glanced at her, nodded, and then resumed looking over the half-finished teddy construct on the work table. Ducking into the shredded tent, Sandra tugged off her boots, stripped out of her wet pants, and finally removed her panties so that she could put on the briefs. In retrospect, she should have seen the curse coming. As soon as the briefs were pulled into place, they transformed, changing suddenly from plain, white underwear to a thick, puffy diaper. She yelped in surprise at the sudden burst of magic, baby powder puffing out of the waistband. “Fuck!” she exclaimed, grabbing at the tapes, half expecting to find that it would remain stuck. She was relieved to find that they came unstuck, and the diaper came away easily, falling to the ground. She’d been shaved smooth, and her skin was paler than it had been a moment before, a thin coat of perfumed baby powder spread between her legs. “Goddamned traps,” she groaned, reaching for her panties. “Goddamned prank underwear, goddamned teddy bears, goddamned wizards.” Getting dressed again, she spent the time and effort to cast prestidigitation. As much as her accident had spread, it took more than a minute, but when she was done she had clean pants, shoes, and panties. Dressed, she left the tent, glowering about the prank underwear. “Anything else useful?” “Not much.” Tarja pressed her lips into a line. “Magical texts, but they’re gibberish as far as I can tell. Otherwise, there’s no loot.” “What a waste,” Sandra sighed. “How much do you suppose this crawl is going to cost us?” “Depends on if Hadrian’s curse wears off, and how tough it is to fix Quinn’s armor. I think-” she looked over her shoulder, surprised to see Hadrian digging through the box of spell components, fishing out some of the supplies and putting them into his own pack. “I guess he’s still got his wits about him,” Sandra said. “That’s a good sign.” Tarja shrugged. “I guess I should be glad I’m the only one who got out unscathed.” Sandra eyed her, frowning. The lady doth protest too much, methinks. “Yeah, about that. Do you know what the trap was trying to do to you?” “No idea,” Tarja said, glancing back and forth suspiciously. “Maybe it was going to change my clothes, like Quinn.” “Yeah?” Sandra raised an eyebrow. “You sure it didn’t get you after all? If it’s a delayed effect, you could have been cursed and not know it.” “That’s not what happened.” Yeah, she’s hiding something. “Are you sure?” Tarja pressed her lips into a line, eyes darting around for an excuse to change the subject. “Well, I didn’t pee my pants, and I’m not dressed like a dolly, so… hey, what’s this?” Sandra rolled her eyes at the obvious deflection. “Tarja, if you’re hurt, you should just tell us so you can get patched up.” “I’m not hurt.” Digging in the box of clothing, she pulled out a large, cotton bra from the box. “Are we sure our wizard is a ‘he’?” Quinn walked back up, oblivious to the conversation going on. “Perimeter is clear, and there’s no other exits in the cave. What’s that?” Sandra shook her head. “We’re not sure. Our Wizard apparently has a bra with his clothes.” Trying to keep the attention off her, Tarja forced a chuckle, walking towards Quinn. “Hey, maybe it’s supposed to go with the girl clothes. Let’s see how well it fits?” As she held it up, probably to compare size and tease Quinn a bit more, Sandra finally noticed the faint magical aura around the brassiere. “Tarja, wait-” She was too slow. As the changeling held up the bra over Quinn’s chest, it flashed with magic, becoming part of his pink ensemble. Breasts simply appeared, large and supple, and looking completely out of place on the chest of a stern, muscled half-orc. “Hey!” he exclaimed, staggering back, trying to fumble for the clasp on his back to remove the bra. “Tarja, what-” “I’m sorry!” Tarja exclaimed, as shocked as him. “Oh, gods, I had no idea- Shit. I’m sorry.” “Tarja!” Sandra snapped, crossing to them with long, swift strides. “You’ve got to be more careful.” “I know,” Tarja said, pressing a hand to her forehead. “I’m stupid, I should have realized… I’ll pay for the curse removal, once we find a cleric.” “Well, maybe we won’t need to.” Stepping behind Quinn, Sandra undid the bra strap for him, letting it fall away. The breasts remained, still as large and bouncy as ever. Quinn slumped in frustration. “Well, shit.” … It was faster going out of the cave than it had been coming in. The traps had all been either disabled or set off, and there were no more waves of combat teddies to do battle with. Quinn stripped out of his frilly armor and got dressed in travel clothes, baggy and draped over his chest to hide his new breasts. They had to pull Hadrian out by the hand when he ignored their explanation that it was time to leave. He still stopped to pick up some of the magical pacifiers on the way out, presumably for study, but after that he was willing to follow along without any more stops. “You think we can still get the reward for clearing the cave?” Quinn asked, as they trudged back towards the main road. “The job was just to get the wizard out, one way or another, right?” “I’ll ask the guild,” Sandra said. “But the reward was tiny. Most of the cash was going to come from selling the loot we got.” “Damn.” “Still a good idea, though. A little cash is better than… uh…” She looked down, alarmed to feel her panties growing warm and wet. Flushing, she quickly waved her hand, casting prestidigitation, trying to keep up with the spreading accident. “Sandra?” Quinn asked, glancing over his shoulder at her. “Better than what?” Sandra frowned, turning away from the party and raising a hand to her brow, pretending to look down the road. “Uh… I thought I heard something,” she said, keeping the magic going. She couldn’t stop the accident from trickling down her legs, but she was at least able to mitigate it long enough for the flow to stop. “I don’t hear anything,” Tarja said. “What did it sound like?” Sandra was trying to run through the implications of her sudden, inexplicable loss of control. “Uh, an accident.” “Huh?” “I mean, I was wrong,” Sandra corrected. “I don’t think I heard anything.” “Okay.” Tarja shrugged. “We’re all probably a little jumpy. We’ll feel better once we’re back on the road.” “Y-yeah.” I just peed my pants. There was no trap, and I’m not wearing anything cursed, so… what happened? That occupied her thoughts as they trudged back to the main road, turned east, and started the trek back into town. The Sodden Songbird was the most popular tavern and inn in the little town of Marston. It was also the only tavern and inn in the little town of Marston. The stew was thin, the beer was strong, and they always had rooms for members of the adventurer’s guild. Stepping inside, Sandra broke away from the party to go talk to their guild contact, while Quinn ordered beers for the table. Tarja stayed with Hadrian, leading him by the hand to their usual table so he wouldn’t wander off. “Anand,” Sandra said, pulling up a chair across from the guild man. “Good to see you.” Anand was a dwarf, and his keen gaze saw through her feigned cheerfulness. “Got your asses whipped, eh?” “The wizard was gone,” Sandra explained, taking the contract from her bag and passing it back to Anand. “We fought some constructs, hit a mountain of traps, and found nothing but cursed gear and some random knick-knacks.” “Eh, it happens. First two groups of rookies didn’t make it past the traps, came back covered in welts. Everyone get out alive?” “Alive, and generally in one piece.” Sandra sat back. “Technically, we did get rid of the wizard, though. Pretty sure he dimension-doored out of there with his stuff when we got close.” That was a lie, but it couldn’t be proven either way. The dwarf chuckled, took a pull of his beer, and said, “You’re gonna push for payment, then, eh?” Sandra sighed. “Work with me here. We’re in gear that’s for adventurers with half our experience, barely keeping a roof over our heads, and now we’ve got to pay for curse removal. At least cover our expenses.” Reaching for his pocket, Anand pulled out a coin purse marked with the guild stamp. Sandra knew that anyone but him would find the pouch completely empty and useless, but the guild man was able to pull out five shiny, almost-white coins. “Five platinum. Half the posted bounty. Best I can do.” “Thanks, Anand.” Sandra scooped up the coins, slipping them into a pocket. “You know the best guy to remove curses around here? Might be some powerful stuff.” “Eh, you can ask the cleric over at the Temple of Calistria, but if it’s strong you’ll have to go into the city. Want me to get you some names?” “I’ll check with the cleric,” Sandra said. “Any other jobs in town?” Anand shrugged. “Check with me tomorrow. I’m waiting back to hear about a man and a pegasus. Might be big.” “Thanks.” Sandra got up, walking over to the barkeep, a gelatinous blobby figure who was just barely translucent enough to let light through their body. The barkeep jiggled in acknowledgement, somehow managing to speak without apparent lips, tongue, or mouth. “What can I do you for?” “Paying our tab, and getting rooms for another night. How much do we owe you?” Sandra asked. She knew the total, but she hoped they would forget to add something up in the tally. “You’re a week behind on rooms, plus food, beer, and the gear you had me ship in. Nine gold, two silver, six copper.” She took one of the platinum coins, setting it on the counter. “This should cover us for tonight, too, then.” “That still leaves you shy the six copper,” the barkeep corrected. Damn. Sandra fished around for change, put the copper on the counter, and nodded to the thing. “You’re a shrewd business-blob.” It seemed to acknowledge the comment, then returned to wiping down the counter. “Sandra!” Quinn exclaimed, holding up a tankard, sloshing a bit of the foaming brew over the top. “Have a beer, and we’ll toast to ill fortune and good friends.” Sandra took the tankard, but she didn’t sit down. “To good friends.” They all drank, save for Hadrian, who only took a pull from his own beer after he saw what the rest of the party was doing. Taking the coins from her pocket, she passed one to Quinn and another to Tarja. “Anand was willing to pay half. I’ll hang on to Hardian’s cut until he starts talking sense again.” Tarja played the coin over her delicate fingers, while Quinn just put his coin in a deep pocket, staying hunched over to conceal his new breasts. “Should cover the cleric’s fees.” “Should,” Sandra said, setting down the tankard. “You want to finish this? I’m going to go get some sleep.” “Are you certain?” Tarja asked. “The night’s still young.” “It’s too old for me.” “I’m not complainin’,” Quinn said, taking her drink. “Free beer.” “Goodnight,” Sandra said, ducking out of the bar and taking the exterior stairs to the second floor. Fiddling with her key, she unlocked her room and stepped inside. Finally alone, she slumped against the wall. “Shit.” The party was her responsibility. She wasn’t officially their leader, but she’d been the one to accept this bounty, and she’d royally screwed it up. She’d led them into a trap, and if they made any money off this job at all, it would be because the cleric cut them a deal fixing the trouble that Sandra had brought down on them. And, when they were walking home, she’d peed her pants. There hadn’t been any more accidents, but that was as likely to simply be because she hadn’t needed to go. For all she knew, she could be about to have another accident without realizing. Kicking off her boots, she stripped out of her pack, belt, and other gear. Less burdened, she pulled off her pants and shirt, laid down on the straw mattress, and tried to get comfortable. She could hear the noise of the bar below, talk and laughter and cheers as people relaxed at the end of the day. She shut it out, shut her eyes, and went to sleep. … Sandra woke up early. The earliest birds had started to chirp, but sunlight wasn’t even coming in through the window yet. “Ugh,” she groaned, thinking about going back to sleep. She was still tired, and she really didn’t want to get up and face the day. She was going to have to go talk to the cleric, check with Anand, try and rustle up more work if he couldn’t give her anything. It would be easier to just sleep through the morning. Put off her responsibilities for a while, slack off, let her future self handle things. Nah. If I go back to sleep, I won’t want to get up all day. She sat up in bed, wrinkling her nose. Something smelled foul. Judging by the intensity of the smell, something absolutely disgusting must have gone down in the bar. Or… it’s in the room. Leaning over, Sandra was going to peer under the bed and see if an animal had gotten inside, but the shift in weight made something squelch and squish between her legs. She froze, not wanting to look and confirm her suspicions to be true. As long as she held still and didn’t check, she could pretend that it was just her imagination. The stinky odor hit her again, caught up by a breeze from the window. She couldn’t keep pretending. Flipping up her blanket, she looked down. Sure enough, the wizard’s diaper had returned. Worse, it was full. Chapter 2 Sandra stumbled out of bed, tugging down her pants so she could look at the garment hanging heavily between her legs. “Crap.” No, wait. Poor choice of words. It didn’t matter what her word choice was, though. The fact of the matter is, she’d woken up wearing a diaper. A smelly diaper, at that. She couldn’t tell if it was the same diaper from the dungeon. Regardless, it stood to reason that even if it wasn’t the exact same one, the diaper hanging around her hips now had something in common with the one that had appeared around her hips then. “Okay, uh… I can fix this,” she muttered, kicking off the pants hanging around her ankles. Unencumbered, she began pacing up and down the small room, waddling a bit so that she wouldn’t smush her diaper between her thighs as she thought. The first idea was obvious. Placing a hand on the front of the diaper, she cast prestidigitation, willing the diaper to be clean. It was a simple spell, with a simple, predictable effect. The magic surged and fizzled, grounding out and accomplishing nothing. The diaper was still there, still laden down with its… contents. “Huh?” Sandra said, trying again. The magic proved as useless the second time as the first, failing to do anything about the source of the room’s stink. That changed things, for the significantly worse. If she couldn’t use prestidigitation to clean herself, it might be a bad idea to even take off the diaper. She would just risk making a mess everywhere, instead of keeping it contained. For all she knew, the magic wouldn’t let her her get cleaned up at all. She could be doomed to be dirty forever, never able to clean herself, even with soap and a- The diaper grew a little warmer, and she looked down, alarmed. “Am I peeing?” She wasn’t. Instead, the front of the diaper had begun to glow, a magical wave passing down from the front, down between her legs, and around the back. With the magic, came cleansing. The moisture evaporated, replaced by solid, dry padding, and the muck squelching against her backside simply vanished. Just like that, she was wearing a clean diaper, held snugly against her by the tapes. A little poof of baby powder escaped the top of the waistband, cleansing the room of the stinky, stale odor and replacing it with a sweet baby smell. “One more thing for the cleric,” she muttered, grabbing her pants and tugging them back on over the diaper. They were baggy enough to hide the bulk, though the subtle crinkle of the plastic backing was still more than audible as she moved around experimentally. Sandra briefly considered taking off the diaper, but if her magic was on the fritz, she didn’t even want to think about having another accident and wetting her pants where someone from the guild could see. Getting her belongings together, she put the crinkle out of her mind, braced herself for a tedious day of curse removal and cleanup work, and waddled out the door. The first thing she did was get a bowl of gruel from the innkeeper. Once the cheap breakfast was in hand, she made her way over to Anand. “Give me good news,” she said, skipping any preamble as she sat down. “Always good to see a friendly face,” Anand said, sipping from a mug of something frothy. She smiled. “Glad you’re in a chipper mood. Any new quests on the docket?” “I didn’t say you were a friendly face.” Chuckling, the guild master reached in one of his bottomless pockets, pulling out a folded paper. “I’ve got a little something. Client needs a parcel delivered up to the City. Payment upon safe delivery.” “That’s a little out of our way, but we could make the trip,” Sandra rubbed at her chin, thinking about it. “What’s the take?” Anand checked the paper, frowning. “Fifteen gold, upon delivery.” “You’re shitting me.” Sandra almost stormed off right there, but she held back her temper. “That barely covers expenses. Isn’t there anything else?” “Not for your level of skill,” Anand said, leaving the paper on the table. “Jobs are slow in these parts. There’s a black dragon a little ways north that needs cleared out, if you want a challenge, but I’d hate to see you turned into barbecue.” Sandra rolled her eyes. “Black dragons breath acid, not fire.” “Turned into pickles, then. Point is, you’d get your asses handed to you on a silver platter.” Anand sighed, taking a long pull of his ale. “You could always try and rustle up work with the locals. Might be a cave of goblins that they don’t want to pay guild rates for.” “We’re guild loyal.” Sandra shook her head, pushing up to her feet with a groan. “Let me get back to you? I don’t imagine anyone is raring at the bit to claim this.” “No, but it’s time sensitive. We don’t get this delivered soon, the client might go to another company.” Anand raised his mug in a toast. “Let me know by this afternoon?” “Of course.” Sandra stood, hitched up her pants to ensure her diaper wouldn’t poke out above the waistband, and started walking towards the bar. Two steps in, she stopped. A subtle, wise figure was in the doorway, one hand held over his mouth, waving for her attention. “Hadrian?” she called, walking over to the entrance. “What’s-” He took her by the arm and turned so that his back was too the bar, then took his hand away from his mouth. The pacifier from the dungeon had returned, bobbing slightly in his mouth as the wizard unconsciously suckled it. “Oh, of course,” Sandra said, grabbing the loop and pulling the pacifier free. Hadrian gaped for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish as he rediscovered his voice. Sandra nodded, pocketing the pacifier. “Take your time. Can you talk?” His voice initially had a lisp, but he was able to speak. “Can ‘ou understand me?” The pronunciation was no barrier, but Sandra was still taken aback, because he was speaking in Sylvan. Responding in common, she said, “Yes, can you understand me?” Hadrian’s brow furrowed. “What was that?” She switched to Sylvan as well. “Can you speak any languages besides Sylvan?” His lisp was completely gone when he said, “I’m speaking Sylvan?” “It’s at least a language,” Sandra shrugged. “Have you noticed anything else… strange?” “The… I don’t know the Sylvan word for the mouth bulb thing,” Hadrian said. “But that’s it. How are you dealing with your curse?” Sandra glanced around the room. She doubted many folks spoke Sylvan, but even with that in mind, “I don’t want to talk about it.” “If it helps, there’s no way we could have seen it coming. I was checking the magic scrolls that I took, some of them are far stronger than anything we’ve ever dealt with. This wizard is a much bigger threat than we thought.” Hadrian gestured to a table. “I haven’t been able to read the notes, yet, but it seems, from what happened to us and Quinn, that his work follows a sort of… theme.” They sat, and Sandra thought it over. “Yeah, I… wait.” Cheeks flushing, she looked over her shoulder and tried to tug up her pants, suddenly paranoid about the waistband of her diaper being visible. “How’d you know about my curse?” Hadrian snorted, but he shook his head. “Don’t worry, it’s not that visible. I saw your trouble on the walk home yesterday.” “Oh.” Sandra let out a breath of relief. “Well, we’ve got enough money to pay the cleric. With luck, he’ll be able to get us all sorted out before the day is up.” “Don’t get your hopes too high. This is some high-level casting,” Hadrian hedged. “The local cleric might not be strong enough to break this magic.” “Well, then, we’ll go to the City,” Sandra said. “It’ll cost a bit more, but there are some priests there who are more than competent for curse removal. Don’t worry about it, we’ll get this all taken care of and you’ll be speaking common before you know it.” She hadn’t really heard Tarja come up behind them, until she said, “Is this a secret conversation?” “Tarja,” Sandra said by way of greeting, scooting to the side so that their ranger could pull up a chair. “No, it’s not a secret, but Hadrian can’t speak Common right now.” “But he can speak?” Tarja asked, hopefully. “The curse is wearing off, just slowly?” “Yeah, it seems like.” “That’s good.” Tarja took a seat, spreading out a bit and taking up most of the leg room around the table. “I hope the same can be said for Quinn.” “What’s she saying?” Hadrian asked, in Sylvan. Sandra translated, paraphrasing a bit. “She wanted to know what you were saying, is relieved that the curses are wearing off, and hopes that Quinn will get better in a similar way.” Hadrian pressed his lips into a line. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that. Language and mental spells react differently than transmutation, especially when curses are involved. A physical effect like that might not wear off in the same way.” “Whats he saying?” Tarja asked. Gods, that’s going to get annoying, Sandra thought. “I’ll translate, just give me a second, it’s hard to switch back and forth. He said that physical curses are different from mind-affecting spells.” “Oh no,” Tarja said, her face growing distraught. “Is he certain?” Sandra saw no reason to translate the simple question. “Hadrian doesn’t run his mouth about things he’s uncertain of. Are you that worried about Quinn?” “Y-yes. Quinn,” Tarja confirmed. “That’s it. I feel guilty, because it’s my fault that he was cursed.” Sandra almost asked Tarja another question, but was interrupted by a couple chuckles around the bar. She knew why without having to look up, and called over her shoulder. “Quinn! Join us?” The burly half-orc grumbled as he walked over to the table, arms crossed over his rather busty chest. “Let’s get to the damned cleric already.” “You’re in a foul mood,” Sandra commented. “Something happen last night?” “A couple jokes, but nothing I can’t handle,” Quinn grumbled. “But I barely slept last night. Why didn’t one of you tell me that these would be so ungodly sensitive?” Sandra couldn’t help but smirk, though Tarja didn’t share in the amusement, saying, “Sorry, I should have thought of that. You’re normally a stomach sleeper, yes?” “Normally,” Quinn groaned. “I’m not hungry,” Sandra cut in. “I’m fine skipping breakfast and going straight to the cleric, how does everyone feel about that?” Her two Common-speaking allies nodded in agreement, and after Sandra translated for Hadrian, he agreed as well. Pushing to her feet, Sandra felt her diaper squelch a little between her legs, warm and damp against her thighs. Hiding her blush, she looked around to ensure nobody had noticed that anything was amiss. Tarja noticed her look. “What’s wrong?” “I- nothing,” Sandra said quickly. “Let’s get to the cleric.” Hadrian gave her a knowing look, not needing to speak the language to understand the exchange that had just gone down, but didn’t make a comment. Without further ado, they shuffled out of the bar, all varying levels of glum and grumpy. … “Nothing?” Sandra asked, eyes wide. “You can’t dispel it even a little?” The cleric pressed his lips into a line. A devoted servant of Calistria, his robes were black and yellow, and cut to show off his supple limbs and the elven grace of his hips. It made him a little distracting to look at as he explained the trouble. “I’m not a miracle worker, and I’m not going to be for years. These curses that hit your wizard are well beyond me, and I don’t even need to give you a second glance to be sure that you’re just as far gone.” “Sandra?” Quinn asked, waiting his turn for the cleric’s examination. “You’re cursed, too?” “Why didn’t you say something?” Tarja asked, concern in her voice. “What happened?” “Nothing!” Sandra interjected quickly, face flushing. “That is- I’m fine, it’s nothing that’ll matter to you. Cleric, do you know someone else who can fix this?” The cleric bowed his head in a nod, though he gave Sandra a playful look as she blushed. “I have some contacts in the City. The Temple of Calistria has members all across the realm, just find our symbol and ask for aid.” “What about me?” Quinn asked, stepping forward and pointing with a thumb towards his own chest, undoing a couple buttons to demonstrate the issue more clearly. “Can you do anything about this? They’re sore like nothing and I can’t get any sleep.” “Let me give it a good once-over, but if it’s the same wizard’s handiwork, I can’t make promises,” the cleric said, bending over to eye the large, voluptuous breasts that Quinn was sporting. It took him only a second to say, “These beauties aren’t the result of a curse.” “Huh?” Quinn asked, his tone getting angry. “What do you mean, ‘these ain’t the result of a curse’? Do you think I wanted this?” “Maybe you didn’t, but that’s not the point, sweet,” the cleric said, staring without shame at Quinn’s exposed breasts. “The effect isn’t malicious, and for some, it’s downright…” he paused, choosing his words. “Beneficial. In short, you need something to dispel the magic, rather than removing a curse.” Quinn stared at him blankly. “Well… can you do that?” The cleric shook his head. “Again, not with my current skill level. This is potent work. Who exactly did you all tangle with?” All eyes fell on Sandra, but she could only shrug. “It was supposed to just be some easy target wizard. We still don’t know exactly who.” “Hmm,” the cleric mused, smirking a little. “Well, talk to my colleagues in the City. They’ll have a better idea of what to do.” Quinn’s voice sounded a little desperate as he asked, “Isn’t there anything your spells can do? They’re… starting to hurt.” That took the cleric a moment to consider, before he had a realization. “Oh, I see. They’re not just decorative.” The half-orc blinked. “Huh?” “Get a breast pump,” the cleric suggested, eyes twinkling, “Or find someone willing to suckle them for you. Either way, you’ll find that your problem is resolved. Is there anything else I can help you with?” Sandra was about to say ‘no’, but Tarja cut in. “I could use your… services, in private, please.” “Tarja?” Sandra asked, raising an eyebrow at her. “Are you okay?” Tarja’s response was quick and sharp. “I’m fine. Cleric?” He looked Tarja up and down for a long moment, eyes glittering with understanding. “I’ll probably give you the same news, Changeling, but I’d be happy to take a look.” Quinn finally picked up on the conversation. “You got hurt?” “I’m fine.” Tarja pointed towards the back. “Your rectory?” “Our pleasure room,” the cleric corrected. “My rectory is downstairs.” “Then let’s go there. Sandra, Quinn, Hadrian, I’ll meet you all back at the inn, alright?” Sandra didn’t like leaving this problem unaddressed, but arguing would be pointless. “Alright. Don’t dawdle. As soon as we get our things together, we’re going to the city.” … A chair scraped against the barroom floor as Sandra sat down across from Anand, setting down a beer in front of him. “Eighteen gold and we’ll do the job today.” The dwarf pressed his lips into a line, eyeing the brew and licking his lips. The bribe - and there was no beating around the bush, the beer was a small but unsubtle bribe - was meant to put him in a good mood, because there was arguing to be done. He accepted it, took a frothy sip, and said, “Rate is fifteen gold.” “That’s after the guild’s cut,” Sandra pointed out. “We both know the client’s paying more.” His eyes went hard, the pleasantries gone from the conversation. “Now, listen here-” “I know,” Sandra cut in. “The guild works as hard as any outgoing adventurer. You make sure our fees get paid, you find the jobs, you negotiate the prices. I’m not looking to cut you out or see that you don’t get paid for your share of the work.” Anand glared, and Sandra could have sworn that his beard hairs were twitching in annoyance. “But?” “But,” Sandra conceded, “You have to do your share of the work. If you don’t negotiate a fair rate, that hurts everyone, and in this case you did not negotiate a fair rate.” “If you don’t like the job, don’t take it,” Anand growled. “Don’t come tell me how to do my job-” “Rations for four people, two ways,” Sandra said, holding up her fingers to count off. “That’s four gold. Lodging is another two when we arrive. That’s more than a third of the pay right there unless we start cutting corners. Do you expect us to eat wandermeal? To all crowd into a single room and get no sleep? The guild is supposed to be better than that.” Anand rubbed at his eyes. “If you don’t like the pay, you can let someone else take the job.” “Who?” Sandra demanded, prepared for that rebuttal. “It’s a parcel delivery. You know who lives in this town, and who’s staying here on furlough. Would you expect someone to come in from out of town to take this job?” “You aren’t a guild master-” Sandra didn’t let him interrupt. “And do you expect that there won’t be any trouble with the delivery, that we won’t have to use arrows and spell components and potions if we get into a fight? Setting our prices based on the expectation that there won’t be trouble means we’re losing money at the first sign of conflict.” She finally ended her rant, giving Anand a chance to really respond. He didn’t, at least not until he could take a long pull from the beer she’d bribed him with, giving him time to think. “Damned stubborn girl. You should be grateful there’s work to be had at all.” “I’m not going to-” “But, I see your point,” he interjected, pausing for a breath. “The rate for the job is fifteen gold.” Sandra blinked. “You just said-” “The rate for the job is fifteen gold,” Anand clarified, swigging the last drops of the drink. “I’ll give you another five out of pocket when you get back. That’s twenty gold in total. I can’t go bending guild rules for you, but I can do you a favor.” Sighing in relief, Sandra sat back in the chair. “Thanks. What’s the parcel?” Anand reached into his pocket for the folded quest paper. “You’re delivering a pegasus.” Dammit. I should have asked for twenty five. … Sandra tugged at the reins, angrily coaxing the winged horse out of the stall. “Come on, girl, just-” the pegasus jerked its head, nearly tripping Sandra, and she jerked back in kind. “You son of a- dammit!” The mare bucked, wings flapping in the confined space, giving it more force than Sandra had expected. She was thrown back, landing on the hay-covered floor, feeling something squelch warmly beneath her with the impact. Am I wet? When did I- no time to worry about that, she had a pegasus to deliver. “Stupid beast, I’m trying to get you out of the tiny space. Isn’t that what you want?” “No, no, you’re doing this all wrong.” Tarja walked in, strolling right up to the pegasus without flinching. Sandra expected the beast to buck or react, but it didn’t, and when the ranger began stroking it’s head, it nickered in a pleased tone. “Pegasi are magnificent creatures. You can’t treat him like a mule and expect that he’ll come along quietly.” Sandra frowned, dusting herself off as she stood. “Him? I thought it was a mare.” The pegasus snorted in annoyance, then nickered something that managed to sound angry. Tarja smirked. “He says you are rude and stupid, and smell like pee,” she translated. “And if you want him to come along nicely, you’d better treat him with the respect that someone of his station deserves.” “His station?” Sandra asked. “This was just supposed to be a simple parcel delivery, for cripes’ sake. Who are we delivering him to?” The horse nickered more, and Tarja listened before explaining. “Not who, where. He’s joining up with a paladin at the temple of Erastil to go deal with that dragon, but on his own he’s worried about being ambushed if he travels on his own.” Sandra spat on the ground, annoyed. “Why does everything have to be so complicated? Just once I want a job to go smooth.” Gently leading the pegasus out of his stall, Tarja listened, translating once more. “He’s not so confident that we can protect him. I guess he doesn’t want… uh… he’s not certain of your skills in combat.” Eyes narrowing at the beast, Sandra asked, “What did he say, exactly?” “Eh… the translation isn’t perfect,” Tarja hedged. “But it was something like ‘impotent, helpless piss-baby.’” Did he see? No, he couldn’t have, but... Sandra shook her head, dismissing the thought. The pegasus was just being insulting, it couldn’t know how on-the-mark its insults were. Directing her comments towards the horse, she said, “We can fight just fine. We’ll get you to your destination in one piece, don’t worry.” Facing Tarja, she added, “Did you see the others?” “Waiting outside, armed for bear,” Tarja confirmed. Sandra chewed on a thought, nodding. “Good. If we leave right away, we’ll get to the city before nightfall, but we have to get a move on. How’d your talk with the cleric go?” “Same news as you.” Tarja looked sullen, but if she wanted to talk about what had happened to her, she would. Prodding for details wouldn’t help, and Sandra was willing to drop the topic as long as it didn’t interfere with Tarja’s work. The pegasus knickered, and no translation was needed for what he meant. Let’s get going already. Sandra agreed, but when she stepped out of the stables, she was surprised to have Quinn tap her on the arm and gesture to the side with his head. “Can I talk to you?” Sandra frowned, but followed him around the corner. “What’s wrong?” “My armor,” Quinn explained, the blush out of place on his crude features. “It… hasn’t changed back.” “Oh.” Sandra took that in, considering the implications. “Well, damn.” “What do you think the odds are we’ll get into a tussle?” Quinn asked, looking around in concern, even though he wasn’t wearing the frilly pink half-plate at the moment. “Because… Well, we’ll be on a public road all day.” “Skip it.” Sandra wasn’t as confident as she sounded, but she wanted her party members to be at ease. “We’ll be fine, and you’re light on your feet with or without it. We can replace it or get it un-cursed once we’re in the city.” The big man sighed in relief, nodding. “Okay. Thank you.” It’ll be fine, right? Sandra thought, but she said only, “Of course.” ... The day was long, but for the most part, boring. In the interest of speed, they didn’t stop for lunch. The four of them ate trail rations as they walked, and Tarja fed the pegasus a few apples so they could keep moving. As they walked, her pants occasionally slipped down a little, but never below the rustling waistband of her diaper. So long as she hitched it up occasionally, there was no trouble. At some point in the early afternoon, Hadrian’s pacifier reappeared in his mouth, and Sandra had to pull it free once more. That earned them a round of strange looks from a passing tradesman and his apprentice, but the wizard only blushed and grumbled in Sylvan as a result. A little after that, just as Sandra was starting to worry about how saturated her diaper was becoming, it flashed with a quiet pulse of magic and was once again dry. The puff of baby powder that wafted up from her waistband was visible, but nobody noticed. Or, anyways, nobody commented, though Hadrian seemed to nod knowingly. Dismissing her concerns as paranoia, Sandra kept trudging forward, watching for any bushwhackers who might be looking to nab a pegasus. The day slipped by, and the sun began to set on the horizon in front of them, forcing her to squint forward to see clearly. Naturally, the attack came just before twilight. They were only a little ways from the City, but traffic was slow, and visibility looking forward was terrible. There was wheat growing distantly to the sides of the road, and scrub brush closer by. Simple makeup used to hide in the brush might not have worked in normal daylight, but with such poor visibility, Sandra saw them too late to avoid the ambush. It was only as a figure moved that she could make out a silhouette. Adrenaline and wary caution coursed through her body, and she flicked out her hand on instinct, calling up a shadowy blade. There was no avoiding the attack, they were too far gone from that. They could only face the oncoming threat head-on, unless… Her thoughts raced, time almost frozen as she considered her options. She had the initiative, having spotted the scoundrels before they charged, but she had to decide how to use it properly. Only one of them has moved. There must be more, in the bushes to my right. If I charge, I could gut one of them before the music starts, put them on edge, give us a better chance. They might even flee. As Sandra shifted her weight, though, she considered what that would do. If she took off at a full charge, her pants would certainly slide down some, and in combat there’d be no chance to hitch them up. The party - and the client - would get a nice view of her diaper’s waistband. Let’s just be defensive, then. No need to play it risky. Raising her voice to call out a warning, she cried out, “We’re being attacked!” Her opportunity spent, she faced the oncoming bandits. It was hard to get an accurate count of them. They were in makeup, the light was poor, and they charged from all sides of the road. Some had bows, and shot in arrows from hiding spots in the wheat fields. Two got on both sides of Sandra, flanking her, slicing in with knives. She avoided one attack, letting it glance off her leather armor, but the other drew a thin cut across her arm. It was hard to take in the chaos of the battle. Two bandits were trying to get a rope around the pegasus, to keep him grounded. Someone else was facing off Quinn, hefting a big club, while the barbarian was forced on the defensive, trying to parry or dodge away from attacks. Tarja was at least on point, getting between two taller figures and Hadrian, ensuring that the wizard could cast his spells unimpaired. Sandra slashed back with her own dagger, but only scored a glancing blow, and in return got a cut that dug through the leather to draw blood around her belly, and another slash below the waist that she only narrowly kept from damaging a particularly sensitive area. Dammit. I’m supposed to surround them, not the other way around! “Quinn! I need you!” “Kinda busy!” he called back, slapping away another blow with his axe. “Can you- oof!” The attack was hard and heavy, and drove straight across Quinn’s chest, smashing into his tender breasts. Sandra had seen him take more damage than that and shrug it off before, but this time he seemed to react more, the pain taking more out of him than usual. Considering times when Sandra’s own breasts had been particularly tender, where even a light touch was painful, she couldn’t blame him. Still, it was damned inconvenient timing. The pegasus knickered as the rope got around his neck. He was flapping his wings furiously, trying to pull away, but Sandra could tell there was magic afoot and he couldn’t get higher than the rope would allow. Shit. Shit, shit, shit- Her own safety be damned, she lunged towards the bandits holding the rope. She received a painful cut across the shoulder blades in the escape, but it got her free of her old opponents and drove her shadow blade towards her new target. He yelped and dropped the rope, leaving only one man to keep the pegasus down. We need Hadrian to come in clutch here. Maybe if he has a scroll- Eyes darting to the back of the party, Sandra was in time to see her hopes dashed against the ground. Tarja was in a wide stance, battling with two of the rangers at once, deftly keeping them away from Hadrian while the wizard threw spells against the archers. As Sandra watched, though, a kick drove up between their changeling’s legs, and after a high yelp that echoed across the whole fight, she fell to the ground, doubled over in a fetal position. The two bandits took their opportunity and closed on Hadrian, forcing him away from the party, casting defensive spells to keep their blades away from his tender skin. “Quinn?” she asked, but he was on the ground, not moving. The bandit with the club was closing towards her, along with the two she’d run away from, meaning there were four enemies around her and a fifth holding the rope. They were going to lose. All she could do was protect the client. Lunging towards the man holding the rope, she wrestled it from him, jerking and kicking, getting it free for barely a moment. “GO!” He needed no further encouragement, flapping into the air and disappearing above the treeline. Sandra watched him go. They were overwhelmed, and they were going to lose. If they surrendered, maybe they’d be left with their lives after being stripped of their possessions. They could live to fight another day. “We surrend-” she started, but she was cut off by a loud, high whistle coming from further up the road. In an instant, the bandits scattered. There was no hesitation amongst them, they simply vanished into the surrounding terrain, disappearing between rows of crops like rats into the walls. Sandra only needed to wonder about that for a moment before she spotted the mounted soldier round the corner a hundred yards up the road. His armor gleamed, and within a second, a half dozen more cavalrymen were behind him, riding at a clipped pace towards her. Exhausted, bleeding, she glanced at Quinn. He was breathing, and starting to move sluggishly. Hadrian was mostly okay, and though Tarja was still in apparent pain, she wasn’t badly hurt. The breeze shifted, and Sandra wrinkled her nose. With that smell in her nostrils, she also became aware of the weight in her diaper, the mushy mass making it sag around her hips. Oh gods, no, why did it have to be now? Looking down, her heart sank further. The bandit’s knife hadn’t missed, like she had thought. There was a broad slash over the front of her pants, leaving a flap of fabric hanging down, exposing her undamaged - but quite soggy - diaper. No time to do anything about it. The cavalry was close enough to call out. “Ahoy there!” “Hello!” she said, hitching up her pants, holding the slashed flap of her pants in place over the diaper, trying to brazen her way through the conversation. As much fabric as had been cut, she had to use both hands. The leader pulled up, towering over Sandra about five feet away, sword drawn. “Aye, maiden, how do you fare?” “I’m no maiden,” she glowered. “We’re with the adventurer’s guild. We were ambushed. Who are you?” He surveyed the party, lips pressed in a line. “I… see. How recently did you join? This is no place for rookies.” “We’re not-” Sandra balled her hands into fists, wrinkling the material between her fingers, and shook her head. “It was just an off day. We’ll be fine once we take some potions. You never said who you were.” “We’re with the city guard,” he explained, gesturing to the other riders, a small smile - a smirk? - on his face. “Out on patrol. We saw the pegasus and came running. Are you sure that you and your companions don’t need an escort to safety, madame? You look in no fit condition to fight anyone.” She turned around to look. Hadrian was helping Tarja stand, though she still looked queasy and sick to her stomach, and Quinn had only just gotten to a sitting position. “We’re fine,” she insisted. “We’ll make our own way.” “Well, if you need any aid, we offer it at no charge. We’re not adventurers, we serve the good of the kingdom. We’ve got a bard, he can heal your wounds, or…” he wrinkled his nose, more in show than in reaction to the smell. “Cleanse anything that’s been soiled.” A couple of the patrolling guards kept a straight face, but two broke out in tittering laughter and Sandra felt her face burn bright red, from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. “I am fine!” she snapped, jabbing a finger at the guard, dropping part of the damaged fabric. “We don’t need you.” “As you say, maiden,” the guard leader said, twirling a finger in the air. At his signal, the rest of the guards turned, trotting back up the road, watching out for any further bandits waiting in ambush. Hadrian stepped up beside her a moment later, watching the guards leave. “Do you need me to use mending on-” “Just do it,” Sandra snapped, focused on not letting her eyes tear up. He touched the fabric, knitting the pants back together in a matter of seconds. “I don’t have enough infernal healing prepared for everyone, but if you need a potion-” Sandra cut him off. “We don’t have money to be using potions. I’m not hurt that bad, anyways.” “Are you sure?” he put a hand on her shoulder, his tone comforting. “It’s alright, Sandra, nobody was that badly hurt. We’ll live to fight another day.” She jerked away, trudging forward, aware but unable to do anything about her slight waddle. “I’m fine. We’ve still got a lot of ground to cover.”
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  8. During this lockdown, I've created a good number of ABDL memes that I post elsewhere. I figure I could start to post them here, too. And if anyone else has an ABDL meme they'd like to post, feel free to add to the fun. Here's one to start the fun.
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  9. I know, I know "Another new story from Kasarberang that's going to take literal years between chapters" Allow me to explain. I write as a hobby, one of a great many hobbies that my brain alternates between, right now Writing is the hobby in focus so hopefully I'll be able to pump out a few chapters of this story and maybe the other ones as well. Unfortunately I make no promises as to how often this story or any others will be updated, it might be once a week or more: This was the case for "Just A Checkup" before I wrote myself into a dead end (I'm planning to rewrite that story and continue it at some point) and it might be way less frequent "Babied By The Sitter" (Still in progress). I'm not a writer, I'm just a guy who does writing sometimes Anyway, I had this idea for a story and I hope I can do it justice. As always feel free to remix, modify, redistribute any of my stories however you like. If you like the setting, characters or anything else feel free to use it. I wont mind, in fact I'd love to see what you can do with my ideas. So PM me if you do make anything that you decide to release. (Tags will be updated as the story progresses.) My Time At The Everland Farm All Characters involved in a sexual situation in this story are at or above the age of consent, even if their ages aren't directly stated. Also this story is entirely a work of fiction and absolutely nothing in it actually happened. Art by: Ruperallmighty Email: Ruperallmighty@gmail.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/Ruperallmighty Art Officially Approved to comply with DD rules by: DailyDi. My name is Daniel I'm 22 years old and this story is of my time at The Everland Farm. The story starts at my house, I had just gotten this mornings mail and saw a letter addressed to me. It read: "Work getting you down? Need a break from the stresses of daily life? Need a vacation? Than come on over to The Everland Farm for a nice change of pace! Experience four weeks free of the stresses of daily life! And with this special offer you can enjoy all four weeks 100% FREE! Lodging included." It even included a valid bus ticket. This letter didn't apply to me at all, I enjoyed my job working as a developer in a small Indie Game studio, the stresses of daily life were minimal at best and I much preferred to be at home. Not to mention a 100% all expenses paid vacation seemed super sketch to say the least. Probably some shitty timeshare or some pyramid scheme of some sort, neither of which I wanted any part of. So I threw the letter on my couch with all the other junk mail, intending to either throw it away or shred it. == A few days went by and I had spoken to some friends and family about the letter. Almost everyone unanimously said I should go, which honestly didn't surprise me, everyone's always telling me I need to get out more and here is seemingly an offer that gives me no excuse but to do just that. Whenever I expressed my concerns they just replied "Just record everything that goes on, that way you're far less likely to get mugged." despite the fact that my state has specific laws against recording out in public unless you receive consent from every single person that would be in the recording. It's' an interesting law and is far stricter than most, it's good for privacy but a lot of people are against it, which frankly I can understand. Anyway eventually people bugged me enough about the vacation that I decided to just do it. Even my work told me I should go. At this point I needed a vacation from all the people telling me I needed a vacation. I packed pretty light, not expecting to need too much. I packed my cellphone, a pair of wired earbuds, some spare clothes, A DVD player and some DVDs as well as an emergency battery pack which should get me through the month if used sparingly. Everything fit in a nice backpack that I keep around for travel, despite this being the first time I actually ever used it for that. Usually I just used it to carry around my work laptop with me so I could work a little while away. But I did originally buy it for travel. Once I was packed and ready to go I set out for the bus-station which was only a quick walk from my house so it didn't take me very long to get there, less than five minutes if I had to guess. I gave the driver my ticket and soon I was off to The Everland Farm, to my surprise I was the only passenger on the bus. That could easily be explained away by it being 10am on a weekday, not exactly the most desirable time to take a bus somewhere far away, since most people had work to do. I put in my earbuds and set my phone to play my favorite artist Big Penny, which has gotten me through a lot of long bus rides in the past. This specific album titled: "Heads or Tails" featured other artists such as Jiggo-J and DJ MEMEBOY. It truly was and still is an underrated album. Personally I think it's Big Penny's best work, his other albums were entertaining, but nothing quite had the same feel as "Heads or Tails" did. I think it's cause it's the only time as of writing this that Big Penny, Jiggo-J and DJ MEMEBOY have collaborated on an album together, It's very obvious that they gave their best with this album. "Heads or Tails" came with a total of 26 songs with a total runtime of 5 hours and 15 minutes and only cost $5.99 when it first released. It was the very first album to have over 3hours of content with a price tag below $36. "Last Stop Everland Farms, if you got this far without getting off you either missed your stop or got the wrong bus!" said the bus driver. Yet again Big Penny got me through another otherwise boring bus ride. I thanked the driver and was on my way. The bus didn't stop directly in front of Everland Farms they stopped quite a bit away actually. I could very easily see where the farm was, but it was a bit of a walk to get there. Once I did finally arrive I took a seat on a nearby bench to catch my breath before getting up and looking around. Right away I was surprised at the absolute size of the property it must've been on at least five acres of land. There's no way this is the place I was going to be staying for a whole month, it's far too nice to be completely free, either that or it really is some timeshare or pyramid scheme. You could tell this place had been around for awhile, some buildings looked fairly new, or at least newly painted and others looked like they'd been sitting there for decades, all the buildings had a Little House On The Prairie style and vibe to them. Most of the buildings were double to triple the size of regular buildings I was accustomed to. It had been a few minutes so I decided to get up and start looking around, there didn't seem to be anyone nearby so I figured I'd take a look around myself, kinda give myself the grand-tour of the property, even though I knew nothing about it. I walked around a little before stopping in front of a building which was bigger than the rest, which is saying something since all the buildings on the property were huge. Since I was feeling especially adventurous I decided to let myself in. Right away I noticed the inside of the building felt far larger than the outside, but I'm sure that was just an optical illusion, since all houses felt far bigger on the inside than they did on the outside. Everything downstairs was pretty standard, Standard Living Room, Kitchen, Dining Room. The furniture was far larger than I was used to but I was usually the shortest guy in the room, so maybe this is the standard for people of normal or above average height, I could see that. After having a good look at the downstairs I decided to look upstairs, which presented me with my first major challenge. The steps were far steeper than I was used to, it was like every step was 2 or 3 normal sized steps stacked on top of each other. I found myself lifting my legs up way higher than I was used to when climbing up stairs. I also went up these stairs far slower than I usually would, to reduce the chances of me falling forward or backwards. After climbing up what felt like thousands of stairs I finally reached the top of the staircase. There was a long hallway with doors on each side, all of them with a wooden sign on them labeling what the room's purpose was, which makes sense since this was a public vacation spot, I imagine it'd be a pain to have to explain where every room was every single time there was a new customer. I walked up to the second door on the right labeled "Emily's Room". Letting my curiosity get the better of me I playfully turned the doorknob fully expecting the room to be locked, but to my surprise the knob turned and the door opened with ease. The inside of the room was pink with white trim, even the walls were painted pink with the corners painted white. There was a computer desk, which really made me feel small, I could barely even reach the top of the desk, I knew I was short, but I didn't think I was THAT short. I had to sit in the rolling office chair and put the height up all the way in order to sit at the desk like a regular person. atop the desk sat an old ldrn PC, with matching beige keyboard and mouse. Running an old version of Backdoor OS. I could have gone and looked through the files and search history of the computer, but I decided against it. I was staying here after all and if anyone were to catch me doing that I'd probably be in for a very bad experience. Plus the bus only stops here once a month, which makes sense, considering that's the minimum amount of time you're allowed to stay, otherwise they charge you for leaving early. Looking around the room further I noticed something laying on the floor, walking over to it revealed that it was a bra. It was Sea Foam Green, very frilly and most importantly, it was huge. Holding one of the cups up to my head for size and the cup was larger than my head. "So, I have one question. Why the fuck do you have your faced pressed up against my bra?" Shouted an unfamiliar voice. coming from the doorway. ====End of Chapter 1==== I hope you enjoyed! Please tell me what you think! Your words encourage me to write more frequently. TXT My Time At The Everland Farm ~ A Kasarberang Story (Reader Download) PDF My Time At The Everland Farm ~ A Kasarberang Story (Reader Download).pdf ODT My Time At The Everland Farm ~ A Kasarberang Story (Reader Download).odt
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  10. Hi, I've been requesting for a story for a while, and while I've objectively found some things that I like, most of the times I've found myself thinking "I would have done otherwise". So I decided to start writing one on my own. BUT! I wanna give you a fair warning before I start getting into the story 'cause I feel like you all deserve it, since I don't want to waste anyone's precious time. 1 - This is my first time writing a full story, so it is highly possible that it will be convoluted and lead to nothing. 2 - English is not my first language, so it's probably not gonna be an excellent piece of art, especially if you are someone who enjoys literature. 3 - The most important point. If you expect this get to the "kinky stuff" immediately, don't get into it. I like to take things slow and have that sweet characters development. 4 - Yes, I started this story elsewhere and I think here too but I will restart it and continue it now CHAPTER 01 "And why on Earth would I need an assistant again?" John Jefferson, 28, was 3 when he was diagnosed with a very rare disease that affects both muscles and bones, making them fragile; while it wasn't lethal on its own, it made it impossible for him to put any muscular mass by weight lifting, and also forced him to be cautious with his eating habits, since his legs might fail his structure him if he would have become overweight. On top of that, he was also on the shorter side, so being a 4'7very skinny man, he surely wasn't the bossiest looking dude in the office. Although his problems, he's always tried to get what was best for him and tried to give himself some authority. He grew a nicely shaped beard, he became witty and, contrary to most people in his position, he would always go to work wearing a suit and a tie. "First and foremost, it is a cost efficient solution. Our new employee is a promising intern that will work here for free for the next six months. If she, as I expect, will turn to be good enough, we will hire her with a full-time job, so I need someone qualified to teach her. " Ever since Mrs. Thompson retired, Janna Prickles, a 51 years old unmarried men hater became his new boss and things only started running slower for his career; it was bright as the day that Janna had a particular taste in torturing him. And the hate was mutual. Short and plumpy, she always used to wear overly coloured outfits that made her look like a knock off version of Queen Elizabeth. Fitting for her personality, John thought. John rolled his eyes and sighed "In other words, I have to babysit." but Janna blocked him with an evil grin. "I took care personally and decided for her amongst tons of other students who signed for this position. She's a quick learner, don't worry. Also, there's a second reason why I needed for you to have an assistant: even though you're better at your job than I like to admit, you're still an annoying little prick who needs to learn how to be organized, so she will take charges of your time schedules from now on." Truthfully, his office looked like a mess, and his schedules were all over the place, he couldn't argue with it. But there was more. "Oh I see now. It's about the Gravéneux fiasco! Look I told you already it was not my fault if Stuart went through my stuff and mixed 'em up lik-" "I know and that is why he had been fired. But let's be honest for a second here. Just coincidentally it wasn't your fault this time. It was surely not the first time your pig habits got in your way. I know this is more about pride than anything else, but you DO need help in that front. And you can be helpful yourself." That didn't sound very convincing at all to John, and she knew it; so, sighing and looking down, she continued her speech. "Fine, I knew it would have come to this. I've already hired her, as a matter of facts, she's already waiting in your office, as of now. Since I know that you need something to be motivated, here's your goal: in the next six months I want to have someone who is just as good as you doing your job, and you are the only one who can teach her. Make me proud, and you'll get a 6% raise." Finally she was talking business, he thought. John was a very proud and goal oriented person, and this seemed like a good deal, which he closed by shaking hands with his boss. He walked to his office and opened the door. His new assistant was standing there, right in front of him. <HOLY SHIT> was all he could think of, but he limited himself to think it, and open his eyes wide.
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  11. Hello everyone, and welcome to the first in what I hope to be a series of ABDL superhero stories, similar to the Marvel Cinematic Universe. This is also my first ABDL story, so any kind of feedback and suggestions on how I can improve my writing is more than welcome. With that, I hope you enjoy. ..... When you think of a superhero, what comes to mind? A muscular paragon of courage willing to defend all that is good in the world? Someone with cool powers and a dynamic costume with bright colors? I'm both of those things, but what makes me different from other superheroes is the fact that I can't keep my pants dry. My name is Nick Windel, and this is my story... Real Heroes Wear Diapers: The Diapered Avenger Chapter 1 But first, let's go back a few days. I'm a sophomore in college, and a pretty average looking guy with red hair and skin so pale, people assume I'm a leprechaun. I was currently on Summer Vacation, staying with my family for a few months. My big sister Amanda was also visiting, planning a party for her son Issac's first birthday. I was looking for a present to get for the little guy. While walking around town, I noticed a strange store I had never seen before I left for college. It was called “Hidden Magic”. Seemed a little on the nose, but I still went in to check it out. When I entered, I was greeted by a nice man at the counter. “Hello there. Thank you for finding Hidden Magic! Is there anything you're looking for?” He asked. “No, I'm fine. Just browsing around. I don't think there's anything for an infant's birthday here.” I replied as I walked around, looking at the various trinkets like crystal balls and necklaces, probably all fake. Suddenly, my eyes turned to a strange object on one of the shelves. It looked like a pacifier, but much bigger than the one a baby uses, almost as if it was big enough for me. On the center was a red jewel that looked pretty expensive, and on the clip was some strange language I couldn't decipher. I decided to pick it up and take it to the front. “Hey, do you know what this is?” I asked. “Ah, the Soother of Justice. Good choice.” The man said. “It has been said that the gemstone embedded into that has magical properties that can give the user incredible abilities.” “Okay... How much is it worth?” I ask. The man smiled in response. “It is usually a lot more expensive, but for you, only twenty dollars. I sense this belongs to you.” I realized this was pretty much a steal, so I decided to pay for it. I didn't know why, but something compelled me to get it. So I thanked the man and headed back to my house. My mom and sister were out, probably shopping for the party in a few days, so I was alone for now. I went to my room and took out my purchase. I noticed the gemstone on the pacifier was glowing faintly in my hands, and for some reason, I moved it into my mouth. I didn't even think about it, it just happened. And as soon as it did, the gemstone shined brightly, letting out a flash as the clip attached itself to the side of my shirt. As soon as the light faded, and my eyes adjusted, I noticed my outfit had changed, and I said to myself... “What the hell am I wearing?!” For some reason, instead of my usual red polo shirt and camo shorts, I was wearing a bright red and blue onesie with a red cape on the back, and underneath the onesie, was a thick diaper which stuck out like a sore thumb. Even my normally reddish orange hair was bright red, almost like an anime character. I was naturally confused as to what this pacifier did to me. I tried to reach for it, but it wasn't in my mouth. Instead, it was almost like a badge on the side of the onesie. I pounded the side of my desk in frustration, but amazingly, it almost broke in two with the crack it caused. “What the...” I pondered for a moment. That guy at the store was telling the truth about the stuff this pacifier could do. Granted, I can only do it while dressed like a giant baby, but I guess I can live with that. I decided to head out to the backyard to see what else I could do with this. I went out to a forest outside of town and did a little stretching to prepare myself. I started by running for a little bit, but I noticed a ran several meters in a matter of seconds. So I had super speed, that was cool. I decided to run around some more to get the hang of it. It was really exhilarating until I was stopped by a nearby rock, causing me to trip, forcing my eyes shut to prepare for the pain. The strange thing is that... I didn't hit the ground. I opened my eyes and found I was floating in midair. So I can fly too, that's even cooler than super speed! I moved around in midair, getting used to flying around, but I was getting the hang of it. I wasn't exactly Superman in terms of skill, but I just need more practice. I also remembered how easily I broke my desk, so I decided to see how strong I was by punching a nearby tree. A few seconds after my fist made contact, the tree fell over easily. I tried it with a few more trees, even cutting one in half with a karate chop. I had never felt so alive in my life! So it was all the more jarring when I transformed back. For some reason, the pacifier badge on my onesie (The fact that I actually said that sentence is making my rethink my life choices) started glowing again, and it let out another flash of light. Suddenly, I was back in my regular clothes, and the pacifier was back in my hand. Okay, so this thing follows Ultraman rules, I guess. However, I noticed something carried over from the costume, something I can't believe I was still wearing. Underneath my shorts was a diaper, which I could tell from the waistband sticking out a few inches from my pants. To which I responded... “You have GOT to be kidding me!” So, what do you think so far? This first chapter is mainly here to provide setup an insight into the main character, so things will get more interesting next chapter. Is there any area I can improve on this? If so, I welcome any kind of feedback. I'm fine with either a reply to this or a direct message. Either way, Chapter 2 is coming soon,
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  12. awww glad you think that! thanks so much for saying so! Micheal stared up at Bill and wondered how far he could push it. BIll was right that he was grumpy, but he had the reason all wrong. Bill seemed to think he was upset he'd been spanked, in reality he was upset Bill had stopped at 15. Running away from his office should have at least been 30, and the entire business of taking him off the main road for some privacy was something he'd have gladly avoided. Whats the use of being in adorable printed diapers if you don't get to show them off publicly once in a while, all while pretending you can't stand being seen but are being forced on the lap of your big, strong caretaker? Aside from using them and being changed that is, and a longer spanking would have given him the chance to do just that, then act surprised as Bill publicly declared him messy. Then a humiliating change in a public bathroom, followed by being dragged by the hand up for an apology which, with any luck, would land him on a leash and pacifier gagged this time next week. Whats a guy gotta to earn a REAL spanking? Or a REAL punishment of any kind? Hit him? He could never do that, but leather dress shoes and thick plastic diapers were a hard combo to run away in, and he wished Bill would be more strict. Perhaps if he tried crying? Like really, loudly screaming and crying, none of this 'tears welled up' thing that normally happened when he was embarrassed or spanked. That was sure to earn SOMETHING, but he wasn't sure if he could do it convincingly enough. He noticed he cried more easily during spankings now, or when people teased him, which was a start. Part of him felt guilty about all this. Everything was within the law, but it wasn't exactly what the law was meant for. When it all started back at that cafe, he hated it, and he hated being a burden on Micheal. However, over time he learned to love being taken care of, and the strong, stern voice of his boyfriend made him feel warm inside. It was a comforting feeling knowing he'd always be taken care of, and an exciting one knowing Bill had so much power over him. He even began to love the look of it all- himself, standing head and shoulder's shorter then Bill, clutching his hand with a pacifier in his mouth and diaper on display as his boyfriend opened the back of his underwear and pronounced his sentence- and loved it when it happened in front of the mirror. He loved waking up in the morning and waiting for Bill to come with his fresh diaper so he could see what cute prints were on it that day. In public they were more discrete and pants were required, and he wished that could change so more people could see. He did everything he could to restrain himself though. It was one thing to enjoy something that was required by law anyway, another to try to exploit it. Worse still, he'd be exploiting Bill, something he could never do. He acted up in ways that kept him in place or made small changed. He really didn't think carrying around a pacifier was that big an issue, but, say, having to spoon feed him would be, so he wouldn't go down that road. Still, f Bill found out how much he enjoyed all this... he shuddered at the thought. Right now Bill was waiting for an answer. He bit his lip. He might be able to go up himself of course. He knew the way and generally knew the proper apologies. However, he would be embarrassed and perhaps a bit scared, and he found he had become more emotional since he became reliant on his boyfriend and legitimately less able to handle himself, but he knew the way. Holding his hand would help. More importantly, what would happen if he did? He already decided the pacifier wasn't that big of a hassle for a caretaker, the leash a big more... Immediately he fought back a shudder as the thought of being led around on a leash filled him with excitement. He tried his best to hide the feeling and keep his face in a confused pout. Was there a slight hint of surprise in Bill's eyes? What did he notice? If it was there, it was gone a second later. "Micheal? You have to tell me sweetie." Another restrained shudder. That word, 'sweetie.' In a way so sweet and normal, and at the same time, it could carry a note of adoration and even a bit of condensation. Not out of place when speaking to a boyfriend, but also not out of place when speaking to someone you were babysitting. His excitement doubled. "Well? What do you want cutie pie." This time he did shudder. Everything else left his mind, he couldn't help himself. "Yes, please help me," he said. He prayed he'd find himself in a wet diaper by the time they reached the top floor.
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  13. Check your local goodwill and thrift stores. You say you are incontinent in your profile but that doesn't say bladder or bowel specifically. If you are only bowel incontinent and have been wearing pull ups, then check your local thrift stores and Goodwill for adult diapers. I can usually get a store type brand of tape on diapers like Attends or Prevail for around $4 a package when they have them. That would be a good start. Otherwise try WalMart diapers, CVS or Wallgreens to start out. If you are not bladder incontinent then going with a thick premium diaper like Mega Max, Betterdry or Confidry 24/7 would be overkill and a good waste of money. Why some might ask? If you don't wet but only mess due to bowel incontinence, why wear a 10 hour capacity diaper that costs a lot when you will just mess and most likely change it within an hour? Use what you need and not more than you need. Now, if you both wet and mess (and if you are wearing pull ups I can't see them holding much wetness anyway), trying a middle of the road type diaper like store brands first and see how they work would be a good way to go. The store type brands I get will last me 3 to 4 hours average of pretty heavy wetting. If you don't wet that much, an average lower end brand of diaper should last you at least 3 to 4 hours and definitely much longer than pull ups. The biggest difference is for messing. Actual tape on diapers will hold a good load of poo because of their design, wider crotch and full back. They don't have to be super thick premium diapers to hold a good mess. I would start lower end and see how that works. If you want to eventually try a thick premium diaper so you can wet and mess in it and stay in it for 6 or 7 hours, then you can spend big bucks on premium diapers. I say start slow first, save some money and see how that works. Low end diapers may be all that you will need since you are making do now with just pull ups. If not, you can always upgrade to premium diapers if you need to. If you have to wear due to bowel incontinence, a big advantage for lower end diapers are they are thinner and much more discreet when out and about at work or in public and easier to hide than a thick bulky premium diaper.
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  14. MegaMax, Dry 24/7. Both with a booster in the front half for urinary incontinence. Both have tall leg guards that work well for containment. A good PUL covering if you are confined to sitting because you will get an eventual leak around the legs. Pull ups won’t generally work for bowel incontinence
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  15. And what a great story it was. I enjoy re-reading it.
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  16. To me it's not sexual at all. It's really just about being a baby and being babyed. It's about being held in Daddy's arms as he rocks me to sleep, spending time with me and like I've said before, being Daddy's Little boy. It's also about being loved, I love being loved and feeling little. I also like feeling safe.
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  17. I go into the bathroom stripping down to just the swollen sagging diaper now obviously stained yellow and brown. Staring at myself in the mirror completely shell shocked. "Oh shit! I think I peed more as well." A familiar shiver runs through her. "No! Bad girl! You are not enjoying being in a shitty dia... brief!" She can't help but whimper though as she steps into the shower dropped the soiled garment with a wet plop. "Ewww! Gross! Gross! Gross!' Balling it and dumping in the trash can while trying to avoid her own mess. Taking the shower wand, she stands their fidgeting hosing down the floor while the water heats up before blasting her privates. This effectively gets rid of the mess but makes her arousal worse. "OhhhhUhhhYesNo!ImeanNo!Yes!Ummhhh." She switches to high pressure forcing the stream into her vagina and douching herself. "Ohhhhhhmmhh" A whimpering Ashley once again surrenders to the inevitable and proceeds to fuck herself with shower head, switching to pulse. Feeling what is possibly the biggest orgasm of her life build before crashing over her. Knocking her senseless..... When she comes to, she's kneeling in the shower the spray from the main head pattering gently over her. "Fuck... I really am a pervert..." …… I spent the rest of the day trying and mostly succeeding at avoiding mom, diapers, and confronting what happened this morning. The couple times I really do have to pee I just kinda unfold one and hover squat over it then immediately toss it. I message with my bestie Lynn and some of my other friends and try to act like nothing happened. I think Lynn suspects though… The next morning however my worst fear is realized as I wake up to an unpleasant horror I though I had left behind. Cold damp sheets and panties clinging to my skin. The wet back goes halfway up my back soaking my sleep shirt. “Oh fuck! Oh no! Shit Shit Shit!! Not again this is the second time this month!” All I can think is the I’m going to turn into Laune and Thomas, the incontinent twins at my school who never toilet trained successfully at the start of elementary like most kids. Was that going to be my fate? Most people don’t fail this late but…. I leap out bed tearing the sheets off frantically trying to ball them up and get them in the wash before mom notices… I wake up early, yawning as I stretch and climb out of bed. Yesterday, Ashley seemed to avoid me for the most part. I understood, she was embarrassed, I just wish she would have addressed the issue with me more. I make myself a cup of coffee and look at my phone. The plumber texted me a little before I woke up, claiming they would be there within a couple of hours. I hear a stirring in Ashley's bedroom, but choose to leave her alone, and give her space for now as I sip my coffee and look through social feeds. I frantically hurry to the washing machine not thinking to change out of my soaked clothes... I look up from my phone and see my daughter running past me with a bundle of what looks like to be bed sheets. “Ashley, honey? Is everything alright?” I rise from my chair and follow her to the laundry room. “Is something wrong, dear?” I peer into the laundry room to see you shoving the sheets into the wash, your clothes absolutely soaked from the back, the faint smell of urine in the air. “You had an accident, didn't you? Your clothes are absolutely soaked!” I put down my coffee cup and without much thought, I start to take off your clothing without asking permission These need to get in the wash immediately, we don't want to pee to sit in the cloth... "Mommm!!! I can handle it!" "Oh shush." I peel off your panties and toss them in the wash and add in the detergent "The plumber is coming in a couple of hours, finally. You should take a shower," I say as I start the washing machine. "This is all your fault anyways! Making me wear diapers probably confused my system or something! I haven't had this issue in weekssss, I mean years! Oh fuck I'm dead, I'm so dead. Mouth you bitch!" I turn and look at you, an eyebrow arched as I watch you attempt to stand up to me. "Excuse me? You have persistently had these problems throughout your life, do not blame me for that." I give your bare ass a firm smack "Now get to the shower and clean the pee off of yourself! Don't worry about getting clothes, I'll get them for you. Shower. Now." I cross my arms I squeal and splutter but I also think, about how you've always helped me. How much you've been there for me, espicially yesterday even if you did kinda help create the problem, so did I. I leave to take a shower and cool off and keep thinking as I do so.... I go to your bedroom and collect a simple heather grey t-shirt from your dresser and a pair of pale pink leggings that are a stretchy and slightly shimmery material and grab a pair of comfy socks for you to wear. I don't worry about a bra or underwear and instead grab a diaper from the bathroom cupboard and put a liner inside of it for extra protection. I'm tempted to put in more than one, but then stop myself. Just because I like to see her bottom all cute and padded, doesn't mean that I should go to extreme measures...yet.. I place your fluffy padding on the bathroom counter along with your clothes. I get out of the shower and see the diaper and grimace, but I want to make peace and put it on then go out to face her. "Mom..... I'm sorry. I'm really scared and freaked out right and I took it out on you. That isn't right. I just wanted to protect autonomy but I did it by keeping secrets and lashing out..... And I know I'm being a bitch wanting things from your right now but... I could really use my mom...." and then it all just came pouring out as I started to cry "My issues came back a couple months ago. Junior year was really stressful, and it only happened like once or twice these past couple months but... I'm freaking out because I'm worried, I'm going to turn into Laune and Thomas and and...." I listen to your confession, my brow furrowed in worry as I see my sweet girl spill her guts to me. I take you in a hug as your words begin to escalate into tear filled helplessness "Shhh.. baby it's okay.." My mothering instincts kick in and I'm consoling my daughter as I used to when she was young. Pressing her snuggly against me and smoothing out her hair. As I hug, I hear the crinkle of the diaper and shift a bit at the sudden pulse I get at the sound of it "I know all of this has been so weird for you.. especially with the situation we had the other day.. You're right, it was my fault that you made such a mess.. I should not have let you have that much coffee." I kiss your head lovingly and rub your back as we embrace. "That part was my fault.... I didn't appreciate not having any choice in wearing the diaper though, but I can understand why you though it was a good idea. You wanted to just take charge and make things easier on me right? No need to worry about the broken toilet honey, just go in your pants and I'll take care of it? It's weird but I appreciate that you care...." I hold you tight "And it's why I want to work with you on managing my issues. If they are coming back... I just need to think on how I want to handle it." "Y-Yes.. that's why I encouraged you to go in them." My face becomes flushed a bit flushed with guilt of my perversions, knowing deep down that I simply love seeing you in diapers, and the broken toilet was a good excuse to get you in them again. I bring myself back to reality and start to think about ways to manage your incontinence issues that are developing "I think it would be a good idea to wear some extra protection that you can easily pull off in case you can't make it to the toilet during the day. And it would most likely be best if you wore something like a diaper or something when you sleep.. but I'm all ears, dear and I will do whatever you think needs to be done." I kiss your head once more. "We’ll see.... I think at least for the next couple night I may want to wear something to bed at least. I'm kinda glad we never got rid of the mattress protector" I laugh nervously before hugging you one last time and heading off to my room, needing to talk to Lynn and get her opinion on all this. I smile at you and shortly after you leave for your room, the doorbell rings "Oh, that must be the plumber.. she's here early."
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  18. If diapers help you feel more comfortable, of course you can still wear them. As for the night terrors, you might want to try finding ways to get better quality sleep. A lot of people on the autsim spectrum find it helpful to have a regular bedtime routine, also you might want to consider littlespace if that's someting you're interested in.
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  19. I was just changed about 30 min ago into a dry 24/7 diaper for the night. My wife just has me in a diaper and t-shirt for the night. Getting ready to head off to bed in about 30 min.
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  21. Until about 20 minutes ago I was in a Hello Kitty Easy-up from Pampers. Unfortunately I got in trouble for wetting and now back in big boy (adult) underpants...?
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  22. Chapter 14 is ready! Sorry it took a month to get this chapter out, especially since it's shorter, I just didn't know exactly how I wanted to go about writing it. Anyway I hope you enjoy it. As always I'd love to read what you have to say it keeps me motivated and actually helps me write these chapters faster, even though sometimes I know it doesn't feel that way. Thank you for your continued support! ODT, PDF and TXT files are updated on the first post. of this topic. Here's Chapter 14. ***** "Center for Littles how may I help you?" "Hey, it's Kaylee. I have some good news. I just recently found a new supplier so I can start making regular contributions again." "That's wonderful Kaylee, I assume it'll be your usual rate?" "Yes that'll be fine." "When should we be expecting your first contribution?" "Within the next few days, I should have them today, but it'll take a day or so to get them to you." "Sounds good, look forward to seeing you soon. Have a wonderful rest of your day." "You as well." ***** "How's Momma's baby holding up?" Kaylee entered my room looking down at me from the edge of the crib. "MMMMMMMPPPPPPPHHHHHHH" I tried to yell behind my pacifier gag. The discomfort I was feeling in my genitals prevented me from sleeping. "Upset because It's not time to do cummies yet baby? It's alright Momma has just the thing to help with that." Kaylee got another huge baby bottle and screwed it onto the back of the pacifier gag, forcing a milky substance to start flooding my mouth. "MMMMPPPH MMMPPHHHH" I tried to kick and thrash, but my restraints kept me pretty much stationary while my captor force fed me. "That's it baby drink up Momma's special formula" Kaylee held the bottle so that my head was forced backwards where I was looking straight up, causing the formula to flow even faster, forcing me to swallow faster in an attempt to keep up with the flow. Kaylee placed her hand on my still covered genitals, the added pressure causing a surge of pleasure flow through my entire body. "See baby isn't that much better now that your drinking your babas." Just when I thought I couldn't take anymore pre-cum started to slowly drip out of my penis, the sensation of which had me moaning uncontrollably. Kaylee turned her head to look at my penis and saw the jar attached to my penis catch the drops dripping pre-cum. "Looks like the baby is having a good time. Your bottle is almost empty though.... I'll tell you what. Momma will let you have some fun with your little toy while she goes and gets some more formula for you." Kaylee turned on the device attached to my penis before leaving the room. The machine started to work my member, the piece around my balls starting to gently vibrate. My body couldn't take it anymore and reached the point of no return. The extra stimulation from the device made my dick violently twitch before releasing it's load into the jar. Each spurt sent chills down my spine engulfing my body in a shroud of pleasure. "BABY!" Kaylee yelled from the room entrance coming to examine the jar, which at this point was almost half filled with my semen. "You weren't supposed to do cum cums until later! What a naughty boy! Well, it's probably for the best, It'll give me some time to clear everything up before anyone gets home." Kaylee took the jar and the device it was attached to off of my penis before removing the diaper and putting my regular clothes back on. "Don't worry baby, I'll keep all of this between you and me, that is, so long as you do the same." She popped the pacifier out of my mouth and unlocked the handcuffs from the crib. It was as if she was never there. "Uh...okay" I replied. I'd rather Emmy, Emily and Evelyn not know about what happened, besides what's the likelihood that Kaylee will come to watch me again before I get back home. "That's what I thought." Kaylee gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room. presumably to clean up that almost dungeon-esc room she had me in earlier. I few minutes later I could hear talking from coming downstairs, Emmy, Emily and Evelyn must've returned home, if only I could make out what they were saying. **** Emmy: "How's My little man is he okay?" Emmy asked first thing she walked through the door. Emily: "I'm sure the little perv is just fine, no sense getting all worked up about it." Emmy: "If you don't care than why were you in such a rush to get home huh?" Emily: "I.... just, uh... haven't talked to Jasmine in awhile and wanted to see how she was doing. It had nothing to do with the perv." Kaylee: "Daniel is fine, he had a little fall today trying to get out of his crib all by himself, so he might need to be handled with a little extra care than usual" Emily: "He fell!??!??!?!?!? I hope he's alright!" Emmy looked at Emily and smirked "haven't talked to jasmine in awhile my ass, you care about him!" Emily: "Shutup!" Evelyn: "We'll make sure to take extra good care of him, thank you for watching him for us Kaylee." Kaylee: "It was really my pleasure, I'd be happy to babysit any time! Daniel and I have a lot of fun." Evelyn: "We'll make sure to remember that." **** I could hear the sounds footsteps bolting upstairs like a stampede of cattle. "I heard you had a fall, are you okay?" Emmy and Emily said almost simultaneously after practically storming into my room. Emmy and Emily were both wearing a button up top and accommodating skirt. Emmy had on a black button up and a white skirt, while Emily has a white button up and a black skirt. There massive breasts were clearly pushing against the button up, it felt like those buttons were going to start popping up and shooting against the wall at high speeds any second. "I'm fine, I just needed to use the bathroom so I tried to get up, but the fall was a little higher than I expected." "Why didn't you call for someone, Kaylee was here to help you." "I tried calling for someone but no one came up, I guess it was before she got here." "Aww, you poor thing!" Both sisters cooed at me. "Don't worry little man, we'll make it up to you, things will be different from now on I promise! I think we should let you get some sleep for now though, it's getting late and you look tired." The sisters both left the room turning off the light before shutting the door. I was getting tired, I had a hard day and was still not entirely sure what to make of it, maybe tomorrow will be easier. I woke up the next morning in that dimly lit room with the cream colored walls with the horizontal green stripes. "Hey little man, it's still a little early to be waking up, you should go back to sleep for a bit okay? I wouldn't want you to not get enough sleep." "Oh, hey Emmy. No I just needed to use the bathroom" "It's okay little guy, just go in your Diaper." "Wait what?!?!?" "Shhhhhhh, no need to get all worked up Emily and I just decided that it'd be easier if while you were sleeping you wore a diaper, that way you wouldn't hurt yourself trying to get up to use the bathroom if no one heard you. It's okay it's only at night now Shhh and go back to sleep." Emmy pushed my face into her covered breast, rocking me back and forth in the rocking chair while humming a soft tune. It didn't take long before I fell back to sleep. =====End Of Chapter 14====
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  23. Great work as always. We all want more, but if you're not feeling it, don't do it. When I check for stories, I'm always hoping for Jamie. Doesn't mean I think that you should be run ragged. Take your time. Should we ever meet I'll shake your hand and thank you for your stories. I might let you hold my bear. You have no more than 43 seconds, though, and if you're rough with him all bets are off.
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  24. CHAPTER 04 As he was knotting his tie in front of the mirror, he questioned himself when was the last time he has ever had pizza. Middle School? That sounds probable. John has always known to be fragile, but seeing how small he was doomed to become in comparison of his friends during his preadolescent times struck him hard and made him convince himself that since he had no way to assert maturity through physical prowess, he had to build an image that would have. He went to high school in a different town than his original one, and got the occasion of being unknown to everyone to drastically change himself, so that the resonance of his youth would have eventually disappeared. Ever since the age of 14, he had never spent a day wearing nothing but monocoloured sweaters, button down shirts, fancy trousers and elegant shoes. His haircut changed into a more adult one, and he even restrained his eating habits, and that of course included pizza. Two things he never wanted to try were smoking and drinking, as he thought those didn't make people seem more intelligent and serious, quite the opposite. One he was finished combing his hair and adding all his accessories, he took a look at his Rolex, noticing it was 19:43, which meant Giorgia was soon to arrive. Truthfully, he was a little bit annoyed for both that she invited him out and that she offered to be driving. He wasn't neither a misogynist nor some conservative person, but the thought that his 20 years old assistant was so eager in wanting to be paying for his meal was just bothersome. He had just given that money to her, and she already was willing to spend them. No, that was not gonna happen, he would have sneaked to pay once she would have gone to the bathroom and then taught her a lesson about the value of money. After all, this wasn't some sort of date. It was just a... business dinner. For the latter part, he had to be a little less assertive and more conceding. She was simply too big to enter in his spider, and he was not large enough to be driving her customized Hummer. "Family money... a jeep that has been made larger than the standard version. A version that is already known in the world to be large" he sighed. Presuming she was about to be there, he gathered his belongings and started going out, not being disappointed in her car's lights to turn the corner just in same second he closed the door behind him. "Looking dapper boss!" she exclaimed getting out of her car, usual energy. She looked astonishing. A silk see-through white shirt adorned with classy frills, a simple golden bracelet on both her wrists and some skinny black pants that ended around the length of her ankles, to meet a pair of elegant sandals with high heels of the same colour. It was the first time they have met outside of the office and she looked just like he imagined her. Gorgeous. "I'm glad you had no problems finding my house?" he asked smiling. "Hey, I'm the organizer! There's no administrative task that I can't do with my eyes closed!" "Hopefully not the way you intend to drive. So, where shall my chaperon bring me? " she giggled. "You know the word actually refers to an older person bringing some kid around, right? Is that what you want me to be for you, Johnny?" Visibly embarrassed of his mistake, he decided to stay quite and say nothing, letting her talk to avoid the awkwardness. This was the first time she has referred to him as Johnny, and even if it was in the context of a joke, it was humiliating nontheless, since it reminded him of the times he was bullied for his small stature. "It's a local pizzeria. It's cozy and not too many tables, so we can relax and just have a talk outside of our usual environment." The ride to the location was not that long, around 20 minutes before getting there, but all through the time John felt extremely uneasy. Her car was simply gigantic, and made him realize their size difference even more accurately. His head didn't reach the top of the seat, and his feet were not touching the ground and had plenty of room just to float there; not to mention, he probably didn't cover half the width. In the meantime, she was there, completely occupying the space of the car seat and then some, while also easily reaching the pedals with her feet. It was a manual gearbox car too, which gave him time to notice how long her nails were as well, since she had to operate it quite oftenly. John had to force himself not picturing his dick being receiving the same treatment of the gearbox, since her movements around it where also rather sensual. Once they arrived at the place, John noticed that her description was on point. It looked like an old rural trattoria remodernized, it wasn't one of the extravagantly coloured pizzerias that he remembered from his childhood. Everyone in there, children included, were dressing rather neatly, and that made him feel at ease, since he felt in a place that reminded him of himself. Small but elegant. One thing immediately made him rethink everything though. He noticed the chairs and the tables, and there was no mistake in his judgement. Once he would have seated, he would have struggled reaching the table, since the distance was just too high for his torso. He tried to ignore it, and moved the chair for Giorgia. As she sat, her wide thighs didn't fully manage to enter inside seat. "What a gentleman!" she commented, then went to his own chair and his hopes faded away. It was that time uncomfortable time once again. Getting his cheeks red, he went to a waiter without saying anything and then came back with him. "What happened?" "Just a logistic problem that can be easily solved" the waiter said the waiter, who briefly came back with a pillow. "Oh... I... I see." was the last comment on that regard from her part, but John started looking around. Nobody past the age of 10 required a pillow to raise his position to reach the table. Nobody except for him. The rest of the night went rather smoothly, except for the fact that the pizza was so large that he only managed to eat one third of it, but Giorgia intervened in that front, and not before having already eaten 2 of her own. "Don't be judgemental! I'm a big girl you know!". She also drank over 2 lt of beer without even getting tipsy, how she managed to stay so lean with that sort of diet was beyond him. She eventually went to pee, and, as programmed, he went to the cashier upfront to pay. "Uhm... well there seems to be no problem in that front. Miss Falcone already has paid for the whole meal as you arrived." She must have done it when he went to the bathroom to wash his hands, no other explanations. "Oh, also! She asked me to give you this..." and she gave him a small packaged wrapped in bimbo blue gift paper with a letter. "Don't open it before Christmas... you're invited at my house with my family." As he came back, she was standing furiously, staring at him. "I KNEW IT! John. This deeply offends me. I am the one who invited you. I am the one who is going to pay. I am an adult. Respect that. I don't care if you're my boss. You still owe me the respect I deserve." John felt a little ashamed. "I honestly didn't do it with malicious..." her expression calmed down and she knelt down to his eyes height, putting her ginormous hand onto his tiny shoulder, completely covering it reaching the bicep with her thumb and the tricep back with her middle finger. "I know John. But this doesn't make it less bad. I want you to feel relieved in my presence outside of the office; we're just Giorgia and John here. Please understand this." She was scolding him and cooing. There, right at the centre of everyone's attention. And yet, maybe it was her soothing voice, or the fact that her sparkly eyes were looking at his own so deeply, or the fact that her hand started going up and down his arm softly, caressing it... or maybe it was a combination of all of it, but he was not anxious nor he felt humiliated for once. Quite the opposite, he was just swimming through the flow of her words, she continued talking for a while, but he couldn't focus himself into hearing what she was saying. He was hypnotized by the situation. Relaxed to a point he never felt before. Then she stood up, smiling. "...so just please don't do it again, okay?" he simply nodded, then she went to grab her purse and they left. The drive home was silent, and once she left him on his doorsteps, they just a rapid chat that finished in a friendly hug. Once on bed, he couldn't help himself from imagining the blanket being her warm body spooning him, and with that he felt asleep immediately.
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  25. Every once in a blue moon, I get da urge for my thumb, but usually my paci makes me feel the most lil. Especially when properly padded, wif Humphrey snuggled next ta me, an either Mister Rogers or cartoons like Paw Patrol or Bluey on da screen.
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  26. A shiver ran through her entire body as her hair suddenly weighed a whole lot less. The unfamiliar bristling of freshly cut hair dancing across her bare shoulder blades conveyed to her the damage done by the machine. Years worth of growth and maintenance was literally severed with a simple snip of the blade. As if right on cue, a simple handheld mirror was lifted up right to her face, showing her a reflection, a reflection that she almost didn't recognize. Somehow, the machine had cut her in a way that made her look exactly like Kazumi! "Who the hell gave you permission to cut my hair?!" Sakura shouted at the machine as her blood threatened to boil. It was a stupid thing to ask, but the normally mellow housewife was seeing a sea of red. She grabbed at one of the tentacles and tried to force the scissor wielding hand to attack its fellow arms, but unfortunately for Sakura, the arm was simply too powerful. A half dozen hands grabbed her and instantly flipped her upside down. Sakura cried out in shock as she found herself face first in the waist high water, getting her bare ass spanked by the gloves. Kazumi found herself staring in awe at the spectacle taking place only two dozen feet or so away from her. Sakura was basically on her knees, face first in the baby tub, getting her ass tanned like there was no tomorrow as she flailed her arms around trying to stop the hands from slapping her big butt. The business woman honestly didn't know why the machine was spanking the new mother, but she couldn't help but feel bad for feeling grateful that it wasn't her ass getting spanked. The sound of a panel in the wall sliding open caught Kazumi's attention and a sudden sense of curiosity made her turn around. She turned around just in time to see the hands taking a white t-shirt and a bizarre looking dress out from the wall. While the hands brought the odd clothing over to her position, the belt slowed to a stop and a pair of metallic tendrils lowered from the ceiling and grabbed Kazumi by her arms. The business woman felt conflicted as the machine slid the white t-shirt down her arms and over her head; she didn't want to be dressed in such weird baby clothes, but it was definitely better than being seen in just a giant pair of pampers. Once she was dressed in the tight fitting t-shirt, the machine took the oddly shaped baby blue garment and pulled it down over Kazumi's body. There was an opening in the bottom of the outfit, much like a baby's onesie, but unlike a onesie, this thing had loose fitting straps that laid gently on her shoulders. Kazumi sat there, dumbfounded by the fact that the automated daycare even had clothing in her size as two gloved hands quickly snapped the garment together over her diaper, sealing her into her plastic underpants. The business woman took a moment to run her fingers over the material she had just been dressed in before the conveyor belt started back up; the seams felt like they had just been sewn. 'These clothes were made just for me!' While Kazumi was making her way towards the end of the belt, a sniffling Sakura was lifted up from the basin and lowered back down onto the conveyor belt. The twenty nine year old mother hung her head in shame as she tried to stop sobbing. She had already seen what was coming. She knew what was next, but she couldn't help herself. Her ass was beat red and burned as she was forced to sit on the rubber surface, naked as the day she was born. A new set of gloved hands grabbed her by her ankles and pulled her legs wide, forcing her to lay on her back. The machine expected her to fight back. It had already logged such information into her file due to how she acted after her haircut. For some reason Sakura shook off her tears and started to struggle. Such behavior was ignored by the hands who began rubbing soothing baby oil into her sore cheeks. This only made her struggle harder, desperate to wriggle off the belt and potentially get away. She was not going to be this machine's toy! She refused to go quietly and let herself be diapered! "Unhand me right now!" Despite her best attempts and unbridled anger, the machine simply rolled over and started patting her bottom with powder puffs covered in baby powder. Sakura threatened the machine repeatedly, vowing to get even with it as her lower half was enveloped in a cloud of talcum powder. After being powdered she was flipped over onto her back and spotted the diaper hovering above her naked body. She reached out and tried to wrestle the ridiculous diaper the hand was holding away from the machine! Sakura should have learned her lesson the first time she tried to fight the machine, but unfortunately for her, the corrupted machine knew exactly how to deal with naughty babies. One of the hands that was going to diaper her seized her by the wrist which allowed another of the hands to grab her other wrist. The struggling twenty nine year old mother was forcibly dragged across her breasts along the belt until the machine stopped and secured her ankles. "No!" Sakura screamed. "Don't spank me!!!" There was nothing she could do. The time for talk was over as the hands forced her bottom up into the air, putting her into a "bowing" position. A crinkling sound rustled from behind her head as a gloved hand unfurled a loose diaper and started to spank her with the elastic plastic backed garment! *SLAP* The hand flung the disposable back and flicked it forward, sending the slick plastic flying at her ass. The clack of plastic of flesh echoed in the crampt facility. “OOWWW!! STOP IT!” Sakura cried out as she started sobbing again. The machine threw everything it had at her, even the back of the hairbrush it had used to straighten her hair after the first spanking. The hickory hairbrush repeatedly tasted her quivering red hot flesh as every other spank either landed on alternating cheeks or occasionally caught the bottom part of her mound. With each harsh spank, Sakura twitched and tried to move her poor ass out of harm’s way, but she was held firmly in place as the machine unleashed its fury! Finally, the hairbrush had struck its last punishing blow leaving Sakura a sobbing, gasping mess. At some point she had even pissed herself. The remnants of her green tea pooled on the conveyor belt between her spread knees. *The Poor Baby Obviously Needs Her Diapers. Look At The Mess You Made!* The computerized voice chastised the crying woman. "I'M NOT A BABY!" Sakura screamed at the ceiling. Her tears ran down her puffy cheeks, passing her mucus covered chin as her fists remained clenched. *That Puddle Between Your Legs Says Otherwise, Baby Sakura. Why Don't You Be A Good Girl, Like Your Sister Kazumi, And Accept Your Diaper?* Sakura stood silently on her knees, wishing that this was all just a terrible nightmare, hoping that she would wake up in bed next to her loving husband. 'Why did I have to try to save Kazumi!?' Well she stood there in quiet retrospective, the machine got to work diapering her. Sakura flinched as she was once again laid into her back, her searing bottom meeting the cold surface of the belt. Within seconds the hands gripped her by her ankles and had the thick disposable underneath her blistered butt. The soft, almost welcoming kiss of industrialized cotton touched her sore backside, cradling it and comforting her in a way that panties never could. It was almost like the diaper was claiming her ass, as if it was the spoils of a hard fought war. Her legs were then spread wide when the gloved hands brought the front of the diaper up and over her urine soaked pussy. The elastic wings were quickly tugged and pulled against her hips, taping her into the diaper as each tape was pressed against the slick cartoon covered waistband. Once sealed into the dreaded disposable diaper, Sakura tried to reach around and ease the soreness of her burning bottom, but the gloved hands denied her this simple mercy by batting away her hands. It was at this point that Sakura realized that she couldn't win. There was no point fighting back. The machine had robbed of her hair and had quickly spanked her silly for each unsuccessful escape attempt she had made. The only good thing that came of this whole thing was that her burning butt was taped into something that at least helped ease the pain emanating from her ass. If she just went with the floor, she would be released into the daycare and, hopefully, allowed to leave once she got dressed into something a bit more mature. With that thought in mind, Sakura allowed herself to be moved down the line and dressed in a baggy pink onesie. It was such an odd piece of clothing Sakura thought to herself as she felt the onesie hang loosely from her chest while tightly hugging her wide hips and bulbous diapered bottom, giving her body a distinct pear shape. 'At least I'm not going to look exactly like Kazumi.' Sakura sighed as the belt carried her towards an exit; a lone square of bright light momentarily blinded her as she emerged out of the dark room. Down a small slide she slid until she landed next to Kazumi. Immediately, the diapered housewife saw her "twin" sitting across from her. She quickly turned her head, wanting to look anywhere but at Kazumi. It was almost painful to see such an independent looking woman who was now dressed like a toddler. However, no matter where she looked, she saw that the machine had been very busy that morning. In front of her lay a very upset looking older woman had been dressed in a diaper and shirt while a much younger looking...girl, Sakura assumed, wore a bowl haircut and a matching dinosaur themed t-shirt and diaper. Only one person in the room looked normal and she was being berated by the girl with the dinosaur themed outfit. So, defeated and utterly confused, Sakura hung her head, wishing to herself that she was anywhere else but here… To Be Continued... Check out my Patreon for the next 7.1k word installment posted today! https://www.patreon.com/user?u=6660213
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  27. Tena Night Super Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk
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  28. CHAPTER 03 The first couple of months passed rather quickly, and John had to admit allowing his new assistant to manage his stuff had been a good idea coming from corporate. Thanks to a better organized working space and a lesser thrown around schedule, he actually managed to make more profit than he ever had, closing 2-3 contracts more per day than he used to before she arrived; more recently, she also actually had started giving him help with his job as well, not just by reporting data and typing contracts in his place (which already helped a lot), but by actually correcting those minor mistakes he made every once on a while by the end of the day, when tiredness kicked in. Her presence in the office was also a general breath of fresh air. Her positiveness towards everything, her continuous smiling, and the extroverted personality were having a good impact at work, and almost made John forget about Janna's grittiness. "I baked muffins this morning!" "Again? You're gonna make me fat!" On Fridays, she didn't come at work until late, and she used to spend that time working on her culinary passion. In the last 8 weeks, not once she had forgot to bring some treat in the office to share with John. "I wish that was the case, you're so skinny! I know you have a condition, but still you're way too bony! I bet I could lift you with one hand." she said cheerfully. John breathed out in a one second laughter and then answered. "I bet you could do that while using the same hand to type on your phone for what it matters, but I rather you didn't. So, lunch break is over and your day has to start. What comes next, Miss Falcone?" She went to her PC, spent a couple of minutes to boot it and finally answered. "Nothing." "Nothing? What do you mean nothing?" he asked surprised. He knew he had at least other two more clients to talk to before the end of the day. "There must be an error in the schedule, there are..." "Green Inc., Myers-Flynch. Already done." His expression said aghast all over the place. That he could remember, he had never drank a sip of alcohol in his whole life, neither had he done any drugs. He would have remembered having closed those. "What the hell are you talking about?" "They are on your desk already, you just have to sign them." He checked the papers, it was all done for real. Even the amount of money taken from it was a good 10-15% more than he hoped for, as the amount of supplies sold was beyond his expectation. But something didn't check. "This is your handwriting." The young woman just smiled at him. "Yes, I know, I've done it this morning. I went to the gym and met the two of them there, Kayleen Smith from Green Inc. and Jordan Flynch. I thought it might have been of help to do things quickly, so I presented myself in vest the company saying I was a new seller and I invited them out for a coffee after that and we made it all. You just have to sign it, as I told them you still are my supervisor. Oh, they told me to say hi, speaking of which!" John was discombobulated. One thing was her trying her best to be of help, one thing was stepping on his toes. He never asked her to do such a thing, and the fact that she just went with the flow of her own thoughts without being permitted directly was indeed quite annoying, not to mention a lack of respect from an underling. However, he did have to admit the work was done immaculately and after all, he was not the type of guy to hate competition. More than that, she was being formed by him, so he reasoned on it for a while, until deciding he was proud of her, since her success was his own, so he came close to her and tuned into a more serious tone. "Okay. You did a very neat job, there is no denying that. But still, you have to inform me of these things. I appreciate both the courage and the ambition, but I'm still your mentor, am I not?" She looked away, visibly annoyed by his rant. "Yeah, you are. But I would have not done it if I didn't know you would have been okay with it. I'm not a kid. I just wanted to help and show off a little." "I know. And trust me, you're doing great." He sighed, wanting to win her approval once again. "Look, what's fair is fair." He took his wallet and took a little over 100 dollars out of it, giving it to her. "This is your part. I expected to make less money from those, so this is all yours." She gasped happily and hugged him, burying his face in her gigantic tits, he tried to move himself away, but his strength compared to hers was like an ant expecting to move away a truck. "OHMYGODTHANKYOUSOMUCHTHISISTHE..." she pushed him away, realizing what she was doing. "I'm... sorry. That was extremely inappropriate." "It's fine. I mean, I'm not complaining" he said laughing. She smiled, as usual, and then exclaimed. "You know what? Let's hang out tonight. Pizza is on me!"
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  29. While the Northshore Supreme diapers are stiff, I still like them over the MegaMax, which for me is too much diaper. The Supremes can get me through a night without leaking.
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  30. North Shore Supreme is my favorite diaper!! I have the white and the blue. They have never never leaked though totally soaked as was last night! Sooo comfy and last me all day!
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  31. Is it just me or does it look like they have all been drinking too much ?????
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  32. While the action itself is babyish in both cases, I feel that pacifiers are the most in the sense that it's an actual babyish object, as opposed to a basic part of the human anatomy which almost everyone has. I never got anything out of sucking my thumb, but I get a lot out of a pacifier.
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  33. They both are! I, personally, prefer to suck my pacifier. It’s more comfortable.
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  34. Okay, here's the disclaimer: This is a one-shot. I have no interest in trying to make a full-sized story out of this, I'm not subverting any tropes, this one is really straightforward and cliché. This is not a work of art, this is not a greater message about the nature of man - if you want character growth or deeper meaning, go read one of my other stories. This is tropey garbage, and it's intended to be just that. @Jj7988582 (come on man, that's too many numbers :P) posted this in the Idea Adoption thread and it tickled my fancy, so here we go. Wishes Do Come True Felicity Morgan hated her birthday. She absolutely loathed it. Every year, her mommy made her wear the poofiest, frilliest, most ridiculous dresses. Every year she invited the same six people to celebrate and every year she had to put up with a clown, or a piñata, or mandatory dancing, or a day at the pool. Her life was bad enough under normal circumstances, but her birthday was the worst. She had been turning three years old every year for the past six years. And tomorrow, she would be two years old again. There was no growth, no advancement, no hope that she'd ever be out of the diapers that her mommy kept her in, day in and day out. She was resigned to it, mostly. She was a Little, she had known from a very early age that this was the most statistically likely outcome. She was born with naturally curly blonde hair and big blue eyes and rosy red lips... she had been doomed from birth. She had actually made it farther than she expected before she had been snapped up. All the way to her twenty-third birthday. Poop, I'm twenty-nine years old now. I'll be thirty next year! But she wouldn't. Next year, she would be three... for a whole day. Just like today. She toddled down the hall, the skirts of her dress flouncing overtop the ruffled petticoat. This year she was Bo Peep and all of her "friends" had been dressed as sheep and they hated her for it. "It's not my fault," she said defensively to Janie in the hall. "My mommy picked the theme and called everyone else's Amazons!" "Yeah well," Janie said in her woolen sheep costume that bulged out at the crotch - the other Littles were all given extra thick diapers to compensate for the fact that no one would be able to see their diapers under the sheep costumes. "You still suck, Felicity." Janie bumped into her on purpose as she walked by, knocking Felicity to the ground... unfortunately, her diaper was so thick and so heavy - she hadn't been changed in hours and had already been fed four bottles - that she couldn't manage to stand up again. And so her birthday continued to get worse. "Mommy!" she called helplessly from her spot on the ground, wiggling and kicking her feet but unable to do so much as roll over in the ridiculous pink monstrosity that was her dress. The dancing sheep on the skirt stared up at her, mocking, as she flailed. "Mommy help!" "Did my little baby fall down?" her mommy cooed. Penelope Morgan was the pinnacle of "soccer mom" despite the fact that her own kids were grown and left years ago and she'd never let Felicity even think about joining a sport. She wore yoga pants year round and whatever blouse style was trendy at the time. Right now it was "cold shoulder" and she was wearing a dark blue blouse with tiny flowers all over it... with big round holes where the shoulders should have been. Her sandy blonde hair was tied up in a high ponytail and her sunglasses rested atop her head, despite the fact that she probably wouldn't be going outside at any point during the party. "Help Mommy," Felicity held her hands out for help, but her mommy only crouched nearby to tease her. "Such a little baby," she cooed. "Are we sure you're turning three this year? Maybe you should be turning one. Cora's mommy decided that she was turning one this year and she got put back in crawler diapers. Maybe that's what we should do with you! You'd be so cute crawling around all the time... " "No mommy, please!" she began, feeling flustered and helpless, but she remembered Penelope's weakness. "If you did that... I wouldn't be able to wear dresses!" "Oh pooh," her mommy huffed, scooping her up. "You're right, my sweet little baby. I guess you're turning three after all. I'd hate for all of those lovely skirts and dresses to go to waste." Felicity hated dresses. She hated frills. She hated the color pink. She had hated it all long before she had been "adopted", she had been a strictly t-shirt and blue jeans woman, athletic, outgoing. A tomboy through and through. But Penelope had put a stop to all of that the moment she had claimed poor Felicity. From that moment forward it had been fussy dresses and fussy hairstyles and pink painted fingernails. She had pierced Felicity's ears and promised that the girl would never have to wear yucky old pants ever again. She missed pants. She missed pockets. She missed being able to walk without skirts bouncing and diapers crinkling. She missed being an adult. And she never missed it more than on her birthday. "Okay, birthday girl," her mommy beamed, setting her down in the high chair of honor at the head of the table. Sheep glared at her from all around, Janie and Cora, Eden and Molly, Paige and Logan. All of her "friends" - the Littles she was forced to play with regularly. She disliked most of them - she felt bad for Cora, she hated Paige... the only one she even liked a little was Molly. Molly had been a tomboy too and had been in diaper-and-dress hell for three years. They commiserated. Paige was the worst, she had started out as Peter but her mommy had decided she wanted a girl instead... but Paige liked it. She was a tattletale and a brat, she declared herself the princess of everything and would scream - literally scream - if she didn't get her way. And then everyone else would get in trouble for making "poor little Paige" scream. "Happy birthday Felicity!" Paige giggled. Felicity often dreamed about wishes. She wished on a star ever night... just last night she had wished that Paige would be eaten by a bear. But that didn't seem likely. "I hope you get the frilliest, most wonderfullest dresses for your birthday!" Felicity begged her mommy to stop inviting Paige, but it got ignored. Paige was a "proper little girl" and was seen as a good influence. With six pairs of sheep eyes on her, most of them angry, she sighed and waited for whatever confectionary monstrosity awaited her this year. The cake was a big green meadow with cotton candy sheep jumping over fences and a frilly Bo Peep standing at the center, wearing an obvious diaper. "It's perfect!" Felicity's mommy cheered, and the other mommies and daddies clapped along as they put the candle - the big number three - on the cake for the sixth year in a row. Felicity remembered how she had hope that first year, that they'd let her grow up. Three was too old for diapers, after all. It had been a terrible shock to wake up the next morning to be told that she was back to being two. It wouldn't be a shock this year. It was how Penelope always started the day after her birthday. With a series of reminders that she was a Little, and that she would be two years old, sucking on bottles and pacifiers, eating in a high chair, sleeping in a crib, and helplessly wetting her diapers... forever. "Make a wish, Felicity dear," her mommy grinned as she slid the lit cake nearer the birthday girl. I wish I were the Amazon and you were the Little, she wished with all her might before blowing out the candle. "Hooray!" everyone cheered. "I hope you wished for new dresses," her mommy grinned, holding up a dress with a skirt so short it may as well have been a belt. "This year's fashion is short short skirts! I won't even have to squeeze your diaper to check, isn't that fun?" "Yay!" Felicity cheered, false enthusiasm in her voice. She would be trying on at least three of her new dresses before the end of the party, before her mommy sat in the middle of the living room and breastfed her in front of everyone. Like she did every year. She knew better than to fuss, she knew better than to groan. She would cheer and bounce at every new dress or she would be punished. And birthday punishments were always the worst. Last year she had to sing the awful teapot song until every mommy said it was perfect, but every time someone had a complaint - a foot in the wrong place, not looking happy enough, her diaper not being messy enough. She had been put to bed in tears, sobbing her heart out and wishing the day would just end. Felicity was already wishing the day would just end. But she had many hours yet to suffer through. When she was finally stripped of her ridiculously puffy birthday diaper, when it was sodden and beyond disgusting, it was bedtime. She was given a quick bath - she didn't even remember what it was like to bathe alone - and put in sheep pajamas, of course, with a think nighttime diaper. "Well birthday girl," her mommy said, hugging her close. "It was another great day. I love you so much, my little sweetie. I'm so glad you're never going to grow up. Three is all you'll ever be, and that is so perfect." "I love you mommy," she said with a smile, hating the woman with everything she was. "I love you too, sweet pea," her mommy kissed her on the forehead and laid her down in the crib, her nightly prison, before pulling up the bars until they did their sickening click. Felicity stared out the window after her door was closed, using the bars of the crib to help her pull herself to her feet. She frowned when she realized her diaper was already wet - her toilet training was long since gone. She looked every night for shooting stars, for one to wish on. Usually she wished for freedom, but tonight she hoped for something else. And she almost cried out in joy - watching for little things, for rays of hope, was the only thing that kept her sane. She saw it - a real shooting star. I wish I were the Amazon and Penelope was the Little, she wished with all she was, from the tip of her nose to the tips of her toes. The shooting star streaked across the sky, twinkling, and she laid back down in her bed, pulling the blanket over her and hugging her only true friend in the world, Murphy the Bear - the one she pretended would eat Paige some day. With heavy eyes and a heavy heart, she drifted off to sleep, not looking forward to tomorrow - when her mommy would welcome her back to being two. * * * She had the strangest dreams, Felicity realized as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes. She sat up with her eyes clenched shut and stretched a big stretch. She felt around for Murphy... and opened her eyes when she could find them. He was gone. So were the crib bars. So was her nursery! She jolted, looking around... the room was familiar, but the angle was all wrong. This was mommy's room! But she was... It took her a long moment of her heart pounding before she realized that she could get out of bed. ON HER OWN! Felicity swung her legs out of bed and stood on her own two feet, towering above everything - the dresser, the bed, she was a giant! She had grown! She streched, slapping the pull-chain of the ceiling fan easily. "This is the best dream ever!" she crowed... but her voice sounded strange. "Hello?" a small voice came from the baby monitor beside the bed. "Hello? Something's gone wrong... " Felicity blinked several times before rushing to mommy's vanity... and seeing Penelope Morgan in the mirror. "Holy mother of monkeys," she breathed, the strongest swear she knew, "my wish came true! My wish came true!" She jumped for joy and it was only then that she realized... "I'm not wearing a diaper!" She patted her bottom, felt the skimpy underwear beneath the nightie. Her breasts felt much heavier than she expected, they weren't just bumps on her chest, they had weight and they swung a bit when she moved. And for some reason, they hurt a little. "Hello?" the small voice called. "I need help, I seem to be in my daughter's nursery... " A wicked grin spread across Penelope's face in the mirror. Felicity startled herself, she had seen that look on mommy's face before... and it took her a moment to realize that was her face now. And that she was the mommy. With delight, she put on a bra - struggling with the clasp, she hadn't worn one in years and her chest had never been that big, and a blouse, and yoga pants and strode to the nursery on her giant legs. The nursery smelled amazing. The scent of baby powder tickled her nose, the scent was familiar but new at the same time. She walked over toward the crib - seeing it from this angle was bizarre. It seemed so small... and the red-faced baby inside seemed equally as small. That's not a baby, she reminded herself. That's Penelope, the woman who has been torturing me for six years. "Good morning, baby Felicity," the Amazon cooed, attempting the same voice that she had heard countless mornings. "Your birthday is over, congratulations! You're two years old again!" "I'm not Felicity," the Little protested. "I'm Penelope! Something's gone wrong, I swear I'm you!" "Oh we're being a silly-butt this morning?" Felicity teased her tormentor, lowering the bars of the crib and lifting her high in the air. Her mommy's Little-eyes bulged and she quivered in fear at the height. Felicity grinned and threw the Little in the air, laughing. "My bouncing baby girl!" "Stop!" her mommy screamed. "Stop, I'm scared!" "Oh there's nothing to be scared of," Felicity cooed, bringing Penelope in for a tight hug. "Mommy would never drop her precious princess." "Please, something's gone wrong - there's been a mistake!" Penelope continued to protest, tears threatening the corners of her eyes. "I'll say something's wrong," Felicity agreed, relishing the ruse. "Someone has a wet diaper! Let's change your bottom and get you out of your pretty PJs and into a cute dress." "I'm not a Little," Penelope protested. "I'm an Amazon! I don't know what's happened... " "My silly baby and her pretend games," Felicity laughed as she carried Penelope over to the changing table and laid her down, buckling the hated strap over her mommy's Little tummy after stripping her of the sheep PJs. "You look like a Little, and you sound like a Little with an overactive imagination. You just had too much sugar yesterday, didn't you?" Felicity hated that excuse. She didn't ever choose to eat the sugar, she ate what she was given and then her feelings were blamed on the sugar - it was infuriating... but so delightful to use it against the same woman who had tormented her. "I need you to listen to me," Penelope was getting flustered, and it was delicious to Felicity. "I went to bed last night as an Amazon." The Little Penelope winced as Felicity tore the tapes from her diaper and balled the wet thing up, pretending that she wasn't listening. She looked at the stacks of diapers, trying to decide which one she wanted to inflict upon the one person she knew deserved it more than anyone else. On the one hand, she thought, I could go with the thinner one and let her experience what a leak feels like... but she won't know the absolute joyof being unable to walk correctly. On the other hand, I could put her in the thick ones, but she won't leak... "And when I woke up this morning," Penelope continued as Felicity took out the thinner diaper and slid it under her Little-mommy, trying not to grin. It was so different for her, looking from this angle. She powered Penelope and taped - knowing that her Little hands wouldn't be able to remove it - the diaper securely. "I was a Little in a crib! I need to see a doctor or something." "Well," Felicity laughed, walking to the closet and selecting one of her brand new ultra-short dresses, one that she had gotten for her birthday just yesterday. "I put a Little down in that crib last night, Felicity dear - and this morning a Little in a wet diaper was waiting for me. So everything seems normal to me." "You're not listening!" Penelope screeched. Felicity felt an unexpected wave of irritation, an urge to punish Penelope that took her by surprise. She reached down and grabbed a Silencer pacifier and popped it in the Little's mouth, inflating it until her cheeks bulged. Penelope clawed at it helplessly, tugging on the shield, pulling on the ring, trying desperately to deflate it... but she didn't have the strength. Felicity knew all too well that the Little body lacked the power to stop any of the torments the Amazons could bring. "I am listening," Felicity smirked. "I'm listening to a fussy Little who has woken up on the wrong side of bed. You're probably just dehydrated, dear. Let's go fix that." Her heart actually felt a little sad as the first tears began to roll down Penelope's cheeks, her cheeks - the Little cheeks she had worn her whole life. But it was only fair - it's exactly what Penelope would have done to her. She unbuckled the strap and pulled the dress on over the Little's head, working her arms through the sleeves, before scooping her up and grabbing Murphy the Bear from the crib. "Here comes Murphy," Felicity held the bear up, bringing it closer. "Oh, he looks hungry," she teased. Penelope often made her toys 'come to life', the turnabout felt right. "He's going to eat you!" Felicity used the stuffed bear, making growling and chomping sounds as she attacked every ticklish spot she knew that Little body had - the neck, the tummy, the ribs. Soon, Penelope was snorting with laughter behind the pacifier... and the sound brought genuine joy to my heart. The laughter coming from her was... musical, magical, even when muffled by the pacifier. It was confusing. Felicity carried the sniffling Penelope to the kitchen, intending to give her the first of what would be many, many bottles that day. She felt she had so much time to make up for. She has my body, Felicity thought, the body that she ruined. She'll have no bladder control, let's see how she likes it. She plopped Penelope in the high chair, the same one Felicity herself had made her birthday wish from the day before, and set about preparing the electrolyte fluid that Penelope used on her any time she was declared to be 'dehydrated'. Everything was so much easier to reach! Cabinets opened easily, nothing required shifting or maneuvering - for the first time in her life, she was living in a world sized for her. Penelope would take this for granted, she'd never been on the other side. Felicity hoped that the wish was permanent, but if she was only going to get one day, she was going to make sure Penelope understood the hell it was to be Little. Using her Amazon hands, which were able to lift and carry so much more than she was used to, she quickly mixed up the beverage and popped the ring on the Silencer, deflating it. "Plea- " Penelope began, but was quickly met with the nipple of a bottle. She turned her head sideways and spit it out. "Please, listen!" "Felicity Alexis Morgan," Felicity snapped, relishing the feeling of using all three names the same way Penelope did - only the first name was actually hers, Penelope had changed her middle name and her last name when the awful woman "adopted" her. "You are dehydrated. You are going to drink this bottle like a good girl, or I'm going to get your feeder paci. Is that how you really want to start today?" Felicity hated the feeder paci. She was tempted to get it anyway, to make Penelope experience the helplessness and frustration of not being able to control the flow of the liquid or escape it as it filled her mouth over and over, forcing her to swallow constantly until her throat hurt from it. But Penelope took the bottle in both hands and began sucking at the fluid. The rhythmic sucking from the Little's lips was strangely musical. Steady. Sure. Unexpectedly, Felicity's chest began to hurt and her right nipple felt cold. She reached down and felt a wet spot - listening to Penelope suckle at the bottle was making her lactate. She wanted little more than to take the bottle from her and replace it with her own nipple... but one thing she did want more was to have Penelope suffer the effects of the rehydrating beverage. She stood there, staring down at the adorable angel as she chugged, breathing through her nose between gulps from the bottle. She had to admit that the little red strawberry dress with its micro-skirt looked really cute on her body... the way her curly blonde hair bounced on her shoulders as she drank, the tiny click in her throat as she suckled. The way her eyes closed... she was really, really cute and Felicity had an overwhelming urge to snuggle her. Which was bizarre, because she was having those urges about her own body. The second the last drop was gone from the bottle, she released Penelope from the high chair... only to carry her to the couch. She lifted her blouse and fumbled with her bra.. a large wet spot was forming on each one. She unclipped the panel, freeing her nipple. "Wait," Penelope protested in her lap. "I don't want that! I'm really full, I don't want- " "Littles don't get a say," Felicity countered. "Littles never get a say. Amazons just do whatever they want, whenever they want and the Little just has to deal with it." Penelope's eyes widened as Felicity finally broke character - they both knew that Penelope wouldn't go off on a rant like that, but before she could say anything, her lips were around Felicity's Amazon nipple, Felicity's hand on the back of Penelope's head, forcing her forward, tilting her head back to encourage her mouth to open, forcing her to latch. And soon she was suckling contentedly. Felicity knew very well what feelings Penelope was having - conflicted feelings. Feelings of intense pleasure from the flavor of the milk, from the smell of it, mixed with feelings of resentment and helplessness. She wouldn't be able to pull away until the milk was gone. Felicity had never managed it, no matter how badly she wanted to. What she hadn't expected, what she didn't know, was how it felt from the Amazon side. The feeling was intense. Gratifying. Fulfilling. As the milk flowed from her body, as it was drawn out of her by the rhythmic suckling of the Little, she felt her heart flutter. She felt... love. She deeply loved the Little in her lap. The feeling caught her by surprise. She couldn't tell if it was a biological urge, if she was feeling Penelope's lingering emotions, if it was a fondness for herself... the last one seemed highly unlikely, she hadn't been able to look at herself in the mirror without wanting to cry since she'd been adopted. Her breast emptied too quickly. Penelope popped off and sat up, rubbing her eye with the back of one hand. "Felicity?" she mumbled. "Felicity, are you- " Felicity cut her off again, flipping her over and guiding her to the other nipple. She was ready for the rush of emotion this time, however. That same sense of overpowering calm, of contentment, of love, poured over her as her milk poured out of her and she found herself humming. It took her a moment to realize what it was... she had unconsciously begun humming the same song that her mommy always hummed during feedings. She stroked the Little's back - while Penelope was suckling, the feeling of their skin touching as she caressed the Little was electric, enticing... addicting. "Oh wow," Felicity murmured. She had no idea how incredible nursing felt for Penelope - if her mommy had actually had these feelings. Once again, it was over too soon. "Felicity," Penelope said groggily as she sat up again, "I really need to go... " she trailed off mid-sentence and her eyes widened. Felicity felt the diaper grow warm on her lap as Penelope finally got to experience what Felicity had felt several times a day for many years - the feeling of her body betraying her, of wetting her diaper like an infant, against her will. The Little's face clouded up in incredible sadness. "I peed myself!" she wailed. Felicity expected herself to feel bad, to feel guilty... but instead she felt needed. Penelope needed her. It felt... good. It felt good to watch Penelope sob her heart out. And it felt good on multiple levels. Felicity got a malicious, vengeful satisfaction out of it, out of her tormentor suffering the same way she had been made to suffer, but there was also another layer to it. That feeling of being wanted, of being necessary. She wiped Penelope's tears away from the Little cheeks. "Pretty awful, isn't it?" she asked. "You're in for a lot of it, too. Because I'm going to get that feeder and you're going to have another rehydrating bottle." "Please no," Penelope sobbed, her body shaking. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea that it felt this awful being Little." "Oh you've only gotten the tiniest taste, Felicity," the Amazon laughed. She didn't feel the slightest pang of guilt or remorse at the Little's tears. Deep down, somewhere in her Amazon heart, she knew that Littles cried. It was just a thing they did, like breathing. "Because you're Felicity now. I'm Penelope. I'm mommy. And we're going to fill you up nice and full and then you're going to do the teapot dance for ME. Do you remember how many times you made me sing that stupid song last year? It had to be a hundred. I stood there and danced and sang until I couldn't stand any more." "I'm sorry!" Penelope sobbed. "I'm sorry, I was wrong! It was wrong! I swear, change us back... I'll let you grow up... I won't treat you like a baby any more. I'm so sorry!" "Oh, you're sorry?" Felicity laughed a harsh laugh. "You've been me for all of two hours, my little prissy princess. I was trapped under your thumb for six years. You think two hours of drinking from a bottle and breastfeeding gives you an idea of the kind of life I lead? I think you need some time in the bouncer. I think you need to watch some cartoons. I think you need to be left alone in the playpen for an hour. But most importantly," Felicity said, lifting Penelope and cradling her, rocking her gently. "You need to calm down before you make yourself sick." She had done that enough times, and she really had no interest in being responsible for cleaning it up. She walked circles around the living room, rocking and shushing Penelope until she calmed down... only to take her back to the kitchen for another bottle. "Please Felicity," she whispered, her voice hoarse from crying. "No more." "Ah ah," Felicity scolded. "You're Felicity now. I'm mommy. You'll never guess what I wished for when I blew out my birthday candles yesterday. Well... you probably will since you're living it." She felt the diaper growing warm again as Penelope wet herself. "Ask me for your bottle, Felicity." "I don't want another bottle," she protested. "You're going to get another one or you're going to get the feeder - it's your choice. So, either ask me very nicely with your most perfect prissy princess manners for your bottle, or I'll get the feeder." "Please mommy," Penelope said, her eyes downcast. "May I have another bottle?" "You may, my sweet girl," Felicity smiled, preparing another rehydrating bottle. Penelope was a constant fountain now, she was overfull with the fluid and milk. It wouldn't be long at all now... she walked over to the plastic-bottomed playpen in the living room and stood Penelope in it, holding the bottle in the Little's mouth while she drank. "Don't you stop until it's gone, silly girl - or I'll refill it and we'll start again with the feeder." After another minute or so, she guided Penelope's hands up to hold it and stepped back. She was cute. Standing there, sucking a bottle, her diaper swollen and completely unhidden by the micro skirt, her blonde curls bouncing. Felicity went to her mommy's room - her room - to fetch her comm and take a photo... as she walked back to the room, she heard a forlorn wail. "Oh no... " "What's wrong, sweet princess?" Felicity asked innocently, holding up her comm and snapping a picture of the Little looking down as urine ran down her leg. "It leaked... " "What leaked, sweet girl?" Felicity asked with a smile. "The diaper leaked," Penelope said softly. "Whose diaper leaked?" Felicity grinned, leaning down and taking another photo. "My diaper leaked, mommy," Penelope whimpered. "Ask me for a thicker diaper, my cute, soggy-bottomed baby," Felicity laughed softly. "I never made you beg for a thicker diaper," Penelope said resentfully, staring up at Felicity. "Bullpoopie!" Felicity shouted. "You've made me beg for everything, you made me thank you for everything you did to me. Now beg or you're going to learn how much a spanking from an Amazon hurts a Little bottom." "Please mommy," Penelope quailed, "please will you put me in a thicker diaper?" "Of course, sweetiekins," Felicity snapped one last picture before guiding the bottle back into Penelope's mouth and carrying her back to the nursery. She didn't bother with the thicker daytime diapers, she went straight for the extra thick nighttime diaper. She stripped the sodden thinner diaper from the Little and tossed it, wiping her down and powdering her and loving every sweet moment of pulling that extra thick diaper closed and taping it snugly. She pulled the bottle out of Penelope's hands and set her down on the floor. "There you go, one nice and thick diaper. Now, try to take it off." "What?" Penelope looked at her quizzically. "Try to take it off," Felicity repeated. "Undo the tapes, wiggle out of it. Take it off." Felicity watched with perverse glee as Penelope tried with all her might, yanking on the tapes, wiggling her hips, but it was useless. Just as Felicity knew it would be. "Amazons sure do make diapers that a Little can't remove," she smirked. "And that thick diaper should last you a while, even though you RUINED MY BODY." "I.. I didn't know," Penelope stammered. "You didn't know?" Felicity echoed. "You didn't know that if you forcefeed someone liquids constantly and never let them use a toilet that their muscles eventually weaken to the point that they're useless? I don't believe for a moment that you didn't know." "Littles just have weak bladders, everyone knows that... " Penelope said defensively. "I got along just fine before you adopted me," Felicity snapped. "I was twenty-three years old. I had my whole life ahead of me, but I had a hard time - other Littles didn't want to be around me, and do you know why?" "Why?" Penelope asked meekly. "Because I was a target for predators," Felicity growled. "I had curly blonde hair and blue eyes and I was SHORT, even for a Little. And that made me... what, Mommy?" "Cute... " Penelope admitted. "A walking 'adopt me' sign," Felicity pushed Penelope gently on the back. "Walk to the living room," she commanded. Penelope tried her best, but she was obviously having a great deal of trouble walking with her legs spread apart by the massive diaper. "If you can't walk, you know what to do." "Yes mommy," the Little squeaked, dropping to her hands and knees. That heart flutter came as Felicity watched the adorable girl crawl, her butt way up in the air as it shook back and forth from the effort of crawling. She didn't understand these feelings, these urges that she got when looking at... what was essentially herself. "You see," Felicity continued, her gaze fixed on the Little's padded butt... even now, the wetness indicator was alerting her that Penelope was peeing. "No other Little wanted to get close to me. Because if I got snatched... when I got snatched, they might be caught along with me. And no Little wants that. How's that diaper feeling, sweetie? Is it still dry and comfy?" "I think I had an accident," Penelope said mournfully, "I really don't like it. How did you swap us?" "I wished upon a star," Felicity shrugged. "I guess sometimes wishes do come true. Maybe I just made enough of them that the universe felt it owed me one. I wished for freedom almost every night for the past six years." "I thought you were happy," Penelope sat down on her well-padded butt, sitting several inches off the ground from the padding alone, her legs splayed as tears welled up in her eyes. "You always said you loved me. I love you... I give you everything." "You torture me!" Felicity shouted. "You torment me, and if I fight back even the smallest amount, you punish me! You tell me I'm dehydrated or tired or I had too much sugar or I'm just fussy. You minimize me, you diminish me, you ignore me, you... " Penelope had started bawling again, her arms hanging limply at her sides as she sobbed. "Why are you crying?" Felicity demanded. "I don't know!" Penelope wailed. "I can't stop it!" Felicity understood that feeling all too well. Her torment was unending, she found herself crying a lot. She had a lot to cry about. But Penelope didn't, she'd barely done anything to her yet. Again, Felicity felt that wave of satisfaction, that feeling of being needed. She scooped Penelope up and sat on the couch, holding the sobbing Little in her lap and rocking her, soothing her. She was surprised when Penelope fell asleep in her lap. "You won't get to sleep too long," Felicity promised. "We have a lot of ground to cover yet, Penelope Morgan." She let the Little nap for an hour or so, and then delighted in feeding her lunch - puréed prunes. And trapping her in the bouncer and watching her dangle helplessly there. But as the day continued, her glee that was powered by her much-deserved vengeance lessened and she just found herself enjoying caring for Penelope, who was often a sobbing mess. She was taking the whole idea of being Little very hard. By late afternoon, Felicity had given up on revenge and spent most of her time snuggling. She breastfed Penelope again, relishing those amazing feelings. Feeding her just felt RIGHT. Like all was right and good with the world. She prepared a dinner of chicken nuggets and honey, with carrot sticks and apple juice... her favorite. Her favorite when she had been a Little. Now it tasted... wrong. The honey was too sweet, the carrot sticks too bland. "You like spicy food," Penelope suggested. "There should be some left over vindaloo in the fridge." It was so strange to watch her Amazon body grimacing at the chicken nuggets. Amazons hated Little food in general, it was too sweet, too strange. Her diaper felt soggy and awful underneath her and she'd been trapped in it all day. She watched Felicity go to reheat the leftovers... and just enjoyed her own meal. The chicken nuggets were amazing. The honey was equally amazing. The flavors together were better than she had ever imagined. Littles experienced everything with so much more intensity than Amazons. She felt like her emotions had been out of control all day. But the Little comfort food made up for some of that... and she had no idea that her own breastmilk would be so staggeringly good. She still felt the lingering taste of it on her tongue, and she wanted more. She laughed when Felicity's face lit up at the flavor of the vindaloo - it tended to get even spicier if you let it stew in the fridge for a day. "It's good, isn't it?" she asked. "Want a bite?" Felicity offered. "No no," Penelope refused quickly. "If our tastes are switched, if the taste belongs to the body and not our mind... I would hate it now and that would make me... " she paused. Her stomach felt strange. She felt the urge to lift herself off her seat slightly... and gasped as she felt her bowels empty, filling the diaper. "Oh no," she moaned. "That feels awful!" She felt the tears welling up yet again, it seemed like she had spent the majority of the day overwhelmed and crying, but the warm, sticky mess on her behind felt terrible. "Did my princess make a poopie?" Felicity asked with a grin. Penelope quailed - the afternoon had actually been pleasant, she felt close to Felicity and had hope that they could work things out, but that malicious glint was back in her eye. "It's disgusting!" she heard herself say before she even realized it. "Finish your dinner, sweetie, then I'll change you," Felicity grinned. "But it's so gross! Please, change me now!" "Do you have any idea how many times you've said no to that very request, O mommy mine?" Felicity sneered. "I'm sorry, I didn't know... " Penelope whimpered, begging. "You've said that so much today. It's like you never listened to me." Of course she hadn't listened - Felicity was a Little. Littles complained and fussed, Littles didn't know what was good for them. But now she understood how volatile Littles were, how real their feelings were. "Finish your meal, then we'll change you." The chicken wasn't so sweet then, the honey tasted like ash. She was resentful and wished it were all over and done with. And she had no idea that she'd be thankful for a clean diaper. Felicity seemed... almost content as she changed Penelope into a fresh nighttime diaper and a sleeper. The fluffy sheep pajamas. "Well my cute little princess," Felicity grinned as she lowered Penelope back into the crib and raised the inescapable bars. "Today was fun. Let's see what tomorrow holds. Sweet dreams, I'm going to go find some fun Amazon things to do now that my helpless Little is off to beddy-bye." Felicity kissed Penelope on the forehead, lingering for a moment, the kiss becoming tender. And then she left. Penelope pulled herself up using the crib bars and stared out the window, hoping... but there were no shooting stars. Nothing to wish on. And sleep took her faster than she expected. * * * When Penelope awoke the next morning in her own body, she actually leapt out of bed and crowed with joy... only to find that she had a headache. There were wine bottles all over the room... Felicity had really gone to town. She felt a little queasy... but everything was worth it. Still in her nightgown, she strode into the nursery, over to the crib and lifted her still sleeping Little. Little Felicity woke slowly, but with a start when she regained consciousness. "I love you mommy," she said fearfully.  "You don't," Penelope said sadly. "But we're going to see if we can't fix that, my sweet angel."
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  35. Iv always wanted to Ben back in nappies and mess them. I started to secretly steel nappies from my mothers nursery she ran when I was 7 upwards and would take the nappies to the toilet, I’d wet and poop them and quickly throw them away, never got caught, but from then till my early teens I’d take nappies when I could and use them. Once I was older and I could afford to buy nappies I’d have every Wednesday night when my parents went food shopping to wear and mess myself while I did my home work and change before they got home. Im 35 now and still take any moment I can to poop a nappy
    1 point
  36. If you count training pants, I have been diapered without a break since mid-2013. I am 25-odd years old. Out of my life overall, I have spent about 16 years primarily in diapers.
    1 point
  37. I am not incontinent, so diapers are by choice for pleasure. I can wet and mess in any position; in fact I can do both while talking to someone without them ever knowing what is happening.
    1 point
  38. Sorry, I don't get what you mean
    1 point
  39. I sent you a pm dailydi . If you donate I see the name which I won't post here so it can't be found by Google doesn't have anything to do with diapers etc so your safe. The name pops up a furniture company so donate to dailydi and help him out ?. "Average" pack of diaper cost will help him 20 bucks, take my lunch next two days and save what you will spend. The man da baby sacrifices a lot to bring us together in one place. Thank you daily di Shawnie
    1 point
  40. I knight you Sir Fartsalot good sir.
    1 point
  41. No, thank you for the best website in existance that any of us have been lucky enough to enjoy ** draws sword and kneels ** Hear now and witness truly ! He, Ser Michael, First of his Name ! Lord of the Diapers and of the First Men ! Protector of the Seven Kingdoms and of the Realm ! Slayer of Dragons and of the Undead! ** places Crown on Ser Michaels head ** Now declared King ! Long May He Reign ! ** crowd echoes loudly ** LONG MAY HE REIGH! ** ** steps back and watches joyfully as King Michael ascends the steps and takes his place on the Iron Throne ** If I could afford to, Your Grace, I would pay fealty every two fornights.Alas, my purse is not burdened with gold ☹️
    1 point
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