Leaderboard

Chapter Three - April 30, 2007 "Dad, are we going home?" "No, pumpkin - we're going to the medical supply store the doctor mentioned." said Craig. "But . . . what would we need to do there?" Natalie asked, although she had a sinking feeling about what the answer would be. "Well," Karen began, "your father and I believe that Dr. Leesman's idea about cloth diapers is a good one." Natalie cringed at hearing the word diaper out loud. "But Mom, I'm not a baby. I don't need you changing me, and I don't want anything babyish!" "I know, honey. We don't think you're a baby at all." "Then why're you doing this?" "Nat, do you think it's more babyish to accept a solution that will save money for our family and protect your mattress from leaks? Or is it more babyish to throw a tantrum about a slightly different type of underwear." Natalie's mouth moved wordlessly for a few moments. She badly wanted to argue with her mother. Her first instinct to any intervention with her wetting issues always revolved around its fundamental unfairness, but she had to acknowledge that her parents never sought to demean her. And her mother's logic was persuasive - at the end of the day, Natalie did want to help her family - her selflessness as a thirteen-year-old was the same selflessness she'd show later as a nurse. "What if we kick a few dollars out of the savings into your allowance?" Craig chimed in. "Plus, you won't have to wash the sheets as often." If there had been any doubt before, Natalie was sold. She'd been recruited for Team Nighttime Cloth Diapers. "Well . . . that makes sense. But it has to be a secret from Ellie." Natalie had no desire for her younger sister to know anything about her bedtime routine. Craig maneuvered the Outback into a parking space in a nondescript suburban strip mall that Natalie didn't recognize. There was a Wal-Mart in the distance and a Chipotle just down the block. Natalie eyed the latter hopefully. "Mom, can we get a burrito after this?" Karen glanced up in surprise. "Um, sure, Nat." Natalie deserved a small reward, after all. She was being very mature about the current situation. Karen was surprised though, that Natalie hadn't seemed to consider making another stop in her barely-concealed Pull-Ups. Craig unfolded his lanky frame, spilled out of the driver's seat, and absent-mindedly locked the car behind him. Turning around, he saw his wife and daughter giving him exasperated looks from its interior. Sheepishly, he unlocked it. "Honestly, Craig," Karen sighed, "it's not hard to see why the kids are all day-dreamers." He gave her a kiss. "That's why you love me, though." He ambled off in the direction of the storefront. Karen and Natalie trailed after him, with Natalie walking in a half-crouch in order to make sure that her hoodie came down almost to her knees. There was only one employee in the store, a heavyset middle-aged woman with a pert brown bun and friendly face. 'Rhonda,' read her nametag. "We're looked for . . . um . . . prot- . . . um . . . " Craig began, stammering., "that is to say, incontinence garments for - " "For our niece," Karen cut in, elbowing him in the ribs, "and our Natalie here was kind enough to volunteer to help us try a few, as she's a similar size." When Craig started talking, Natalie had slowly, surreptitiously moved behind her mother, but Karen's quick thinking lifted a weight off her shoulders. "Yes," Craig added lamely. "Our niece." Rhonda looked back and forth at Natalie's parents and smiled. It wasn't her first rodeo - she was happy to indulge Karen and Craig's desire to protect their daughter's dignity - in fact, she admired it. Just last week a young boy had come into the store with his parents, only to listen to them tell the salesperson that they needed 'something for them that piss themselves like babies.' His face had crumpled. Some people shouldn't be parents. "Well," Rhonda began, "it's very good that Natalie is being so helpful - that will make it much easier for us to get a good fit." She smiled at the teenager, who tentatively smiled back. "What type of product were you hoping to consider? Maybe I can help you pick one." "We're interested in cloth diapers for nighttime wear," Karen said. "Ideally something that minimizes leaks. We'd also need some plastic panties." "Bowel or urinary issues?" Karen glanced at Natalie, who blushed so furiously that she almost turned purple. "Well - we're mainly concerned about bedwetting. But we'd like to be on the safe side." "Of course, of course. Well, we'll find the right solution for your niece. We have a children's aisle just over here, if you'll follow me. - I think she's too small for most of our youth products" Rhonda turned on her heel and bustled down a long row of medical supplies. There were casts, canes, and bandages. And in the back, where they were headed, a variety of diapers in a large range of sizes and styles. Natalie had never worn anything other than Pampers and Pull-Ups - she supposed she'd known in the abstract there must be more brands, but certainly not to this extent. Suddenly, Rhonda was turning around with three impossibly large white . . . things . . . in her hands. Natalie gaped - surely, she couldn't be expected to wear these? Yet Rhonda and her parents were talking earnestly about the benefits and drawbacks of each, and when she'd picked her jaw up from the floor she heard what sounded like a deadly-serious conversation. " . . . and you say the pin-on ones are the least likely to leak? I don't know much about it, and this might be stupid, but is there any danger to having metal pins so close to her . . . you know . . . body parts?" Craig was saying. "Honey, that's why they call them safety pins." Karen said. "It's just as your wife says - safety pins. Personally, I'd pair these with a pair of plastic panties - then you'll never have to worry about leaks. Assuming she's only wearing these at night, so slightly impaired movement isn't a factor. If so, we have some slimmer fits. But lots of kids like picking out plastic pants because of the designs." Natalie was skeptical of this last statement - she couldn't imagine anyone she knew getting jazzed to pick out a fashionable diaper cover. "What about the slimmer-" Natalie started, but Karen cut her off. "We'll take the pin-ons - can you show us some options for plastic panties?" Extra allowance, thought Natalie, no matter how bad it gets, I just have to keep my eye on the prize. Rhonda turned, took ten steps, and with a flourish revealed a row of printed plastic panties. This might not be worth it, thought Natalie.

Obviously you can. You can discretely wear diapers or pull-ups all the time for any reason. I think the more important question is does it work. If it works then go for it.

Hello there, I have visited this site for several years but I haven't really posted much. I feel like sharing my experience will give an opportunity to help someone else. If anyone has any questions, I will try my best to respond. I remember being toilet trained around 4 years old and I felt confused about leaving my diapers behind. I believe as part of my anxiety and also having sensory processing issues, it caused me to have severe constipation for years. I ended up having frequent bowel accidents, and sometimes I would fall asleep in the middle of class then wake up with a large BM in my briefs. It made me feel embarrassed and frustrated. I was never offered the chance to wear diapers or pull ups in school and I wish I did because it would saved me a lot of stress. Back then I only understood that diapers were for babies, so I was too afraid to ask about getting diapers. In 5th grade right before I started middle school I started experimenting with standing over the toilet and peeing through my briefs, which I later learned caused an unpleasant smell around others. I don't remember anyone saying anything about it, but I definitely felt embarrassed. Also around this time I finally stopped having less bowel accidents. When I started middle school around 2010 they limited how many times people were allowed to go to the toilet for every 9 weeks. To this day as an adult I still find this unreasonable for anyone at any age. I won't go into detail too much but I'm thankful I didn't have any accidents in middle school. However around the time I was in 8th grade I started taking old Tena unused pull ups from a family member that didn't need them. Those were too large for my body so I tried ordering a sample grey depends pull up in the mail. I wore it to school on a day I didn't realize was a choir field trip. I was absolutely terrified but I managed to make it through the day without any noticeable leaks, but I might have smelled like pee. After that day I tried my best to stop thinking about wanting diapers but it was in my mind every day. Then there was one time at the end of that year a scented unused baby diaper got into my messenger bag and the smell was noticeable in a very small classroom. A family member put it in my bag by mistake. I cried a lot when I got home. My personality has been very introverted and quiet, but in addition to not having strong social skills and anxiety I also realized that I was gay and I was not in a safe environment for this. At the end of my freshman year of high school, I was finally given the opportunity to go to a new school that had a social strategies class. I stopped thinking about diapers as often and put focus into my classes. I ended up graduating from high school with no diapers and no accidents. About a year after finishing school I became friends with someone that helped me buy my first pack of Walmart pull ups. They were very understanding of my autism and didn't judge me by what I wanted to wear under my clothes. Fast forward to now and I recently started getting a regular shipment of pull ups. I'm not incontinent, however at one point someone in the past physically hurt me after I finished using the toilet at home and that trauma caused me to develop anxiety over going to the toilet nearly anywhere. Also the fact public restrooms can be very loud with many people coming in and out can feel exhausting for my brain to process. Also dealing with the loud hand dryers can be a challenge. I've tried earplugs but I'm not sure if I want to carry those around in my pocket all the time. I do not wear 24/7, I still wear regular boxers more often than pull ups. I don't feel like I have a bladder problem, but I want to have a relationship with someone else and I know that diapers and pull ups can get in the way of intimacy. If anyone has any advice for me, I'd really appreciate it. Sent from my Pixel 4 using Tapatalk

He should be pretty normal size. I'll need to work on my way of formulating those situations, but think of it like he's more raising his legs and bum and not his Mom lifting them. And the same goes with lifting him off the ground, the places I believe I have described those actions, its suppose to be like, a grab by the wrist and pulling to his feet and not an overall lift ?

Debug Error Designation: Initialization Processing complete. Error Designation Description Edit has been resolved by the initialization of Debug subroutine Troubleshooter. Processing. Processing.. Processing… Processing complete. Integration of subroutine Troubleshooter and subroutine Journal Log complete. Designation Journal complete. Processing next Error… Debug Error Designation Unintended Journal Entry reported. Error report: Description of object Leston's Journal requires recording of significant thoughts and events. Analysis of Leston Savaric's thoughts qualify events within Leston Savaric's dreams as significant, however thought records indicate that his intention did not include recording of dreams. Resolving. Resolving.. Resolution: permanent termination of REM sleep in Leston Savaric. Processing… Process failed. Reason: Long term absence of REM sleep in humans may lead to deleterious effects. Conflict with Leston Savaric's objective "happiness". Reconfiguring… Debug Error Designation Processing Speed reported. Error report: processing speed deemed insufficient for designated goal "troubleshooting". Resolving. Resolving.. Resolution: increase energy input. Locating energy source. Processing. Processing.. Processing complete. Black hole designation: None has been linked to Program Debug. Black hole designation set to Battery1. Resolving prior error. Resolution: Create subpages of Leston Savaric's Journal for records of unconscious thought and subroutine Journal Processing complete. Data recorded from point of initialization of subroutine Troubleshooter. Entering rest mode. Debug Day 2: Day of the Interview with Dr. Gonzales. I woke up to the sound of strings playing ominous cords with increasing volume. I had chosen the alarm tone because it was less likely to scare the heck out of me than loud one, but frankly it kind of creeps me out, especially when I have to get up before sunrise. Also? I feel like garbage. Sitting up in bed I noticed that my bottom half was totally nude. A brief glance around let me find the modified baby diaper in a corner of the room with one tape popped. I probably got sick of it while I was half asleep and threw it off. Note to self: work on making decent diapers before experimenting with bed wetting. With that in mind I stood and stretched. A series of pops rose from around my body as I prepared to get ready to go. I walked over to my dresser and wound up just absently staring at it for a moment as my brain re-entered sleep mode. Now I know six hours isn't a lot, but I almost feel like I didn't sleep at all. Snapping myself back to attention I grabbed my clothes and hopped into the shower. My mind started to wander as I soaped up. What could I do? What experiments are there to run? How will this interview go? I paused halfway through shampooing my hair as the thought hit me: Could I use the debug menu to make the interview go in my favor? Glancing ahead at my debug screen, I could see a few parameters on my own screen that could be useful. Things like charisma, persuasion, and suggestion which I didn't quite know a hundred percent, but which sound useful. On the reverse, there were things like suggestibility, gullibility, and so on that seemed that they'd make me easier to control. If I tweaked the professor's brain a bit, I could get them to give me the position. Heck, I could get them to do anything I want. In fact, I could get anyone to do anything I want. My mind started to wander as it considered just how far I could abuse my powers, but I was cut short from a sudden pain. The shampoo in my hair had started dripping into my eyes, which of course burns like crazy. Interestingly enough, though, I can still see the debug menu with my eyes closed. After a few minutes of rinsing my eyes and completing the cleaning process, I returned to my room dressed and ready to face the day. My professor had told me that the interviewing professor, also known as the department chair, was someone relatively laid back who probably wouldn't appreciate me showing up like I was ready for an interview at a fortune 500 company. To that end, I'd decided on regular blue jeans that I usually wear in the lab with a black button up over it. I figured it would give me some level of plausible deniability if they thought I was trying to dress up while still looking relatively professional. Taking advantage of my hair being wet and therefore easy to manipulate, I pulled it back into a ponytail. Unlike most black men I don't really cut my hair that often, so it stays about shoulder length despite the curliness. While I usually just let it do its own thing, I figured pulling it back might look just a little bit better. People say they don't care about appearance, but they still register it on some level Finally judging myself to be in decent condition, I grabbed my phone and headphones, checked my backpack and laptop case to make sure I had all my things, and prepared to walk out of my room before the modified diaper from yesterday caught my eye. My heart seemed to freeze for a moment as I recalled that I was putting off what I really wanted to do in order to go to this interview, but I quickly pushed it aside. There would be plenty of time to do things when I got back, besides which, today is Friday, so I have the whole weekend ahead of me. After taking a deep breath, I opened the door and made doubly sure that I locked it behind me. The walk to my campus is basically non-existent given that the apartments were made right across the street, and so about six minutes after leaving my room I was in front of the lab I've been working in. Currently I'm doing undergrad work to get credit for my bachelor's degree in chemistry. Because I'm an undergrad and it's necessary for me to graduate, the work I do is unpaid, or rather, I pay for the class that requires me to do the research. If I can get a position at the department chair's lab, though, I can kill two birds with one stone. It counts for research hours and I get paid for my work. I could do what I need to and eat something other than ramen noodles and beans and rice every once in a while. If I'm careful, I might even be able to afford some more… personal purchases. With my hopes high I entered the lab. Or at least tried to. Like an idiot I slammed my face into the door when it didn't open. Looking at my phone informed me that it was only seven o'clock, a time at which nobody would be there to open the door for me. The earliest birds get there around eight, the same time my interview is meant to start, but that was a bit of an issue to me. For this interview I needed to present the results of my most recent experiment which would be great except that it wasn't finished. The original plan was to finish it yesterday, but that went out the window for what I hope are obvious reasons. I figured I could knock out the last few minutes of mixing and writing before my interview, but I didn't think about the chance that nobody would be here. Okay, what are my options here. Call for security to open the door. Open the door myself. Give up and fall back on magic powers. Honestly explain to the professor that I didn't finish my work and ask for mercy. One is a no go since security won't open a lab for an undergrad because of some "safety" nonsense. Two isn't really an option since getting caught picking a lock would be the end of my college career. Three I'll keep as back up. Four is probably a fast track to getting passed over and a black mark on my record interacting with professors going forward. Okay, so that leaves me with… give up? ... Ha just kidding, I have magic now! "Alohomora!" … Yeah, I didn't think that would work either. Okay, let's see. Debug menu. Door. Properties… locked = false. It seemed a little too easy to be true given that I'd only ever screwed up the first try on changing things, but sure enough I reached out to the handle, gave it a turn and it opened easy as pie. Well, success is a nice change of pace. Turning on the light in the lab, I walked over to my station and pulled out my materials. All I really needed to do was add test tube A to beaker B and dry it out, which should be like twenty minutes. I set about my work at as brisk a pace as I could while still being wary of the risk of spilling acid on myself. After a few minutes of frantically moving glassware around, I set up the filter and turned it on. Now I wait. Very patiently. If I screw something up while messing around, then the interview is done for. I understand now how dogs feel when they have a treat in front of them and hear "Wait". Fortunately, I am renowned for my patience and therefore managed to wait. For about a minute and a half. Judge me how you will, but I defy anyone in my situation to do better! It should be fine as long as I make sure my changes are small enough to go unnoticed. As tempting as it is to try turning my underwear into something more padded or my undershirt into a super comfortable onesie, I decided on something a little more subtle. It would also serve as a chance to experiment on how my ability affects other humans without being too invasive. From my bag, I pulled out a pacifier with a black mouth guard. Specifically the kind you might find on a website catering to abdls. It had the right shape, and was made from the right materials to emulate the real thing, but it still felt somehow clinical to me. Despite the makers' efforts, it still looked far from the kind a baby might use. It didn't bother me that much, but it still always kind of bugged me for some reason. That said, the appearance isn't what I intend to change for now. When looking at the properties of some of the things I had around, I noticed an interesting section on the paci. Description: A plastic pacifier usually used to soothe infants which has been scaled up to fit an adult's mouth. Changing the description on my journal allowed me to make it automatically record, so what if I changed the section that designated pacifiers as something typically used by infants? My heart started racing as I prepared to make a change on a much greater scale than the previous ones. On one hand, I was excited to test out what would happen and to see just what my abilities would do. On the other hand, what if something goes wrong? If I'm right I might just change social norms as a whole. Which might be great or might have disastrous effects. I chose one of my pacifiers because it was something relatively innocuous that shouldn't cause too much unexpected backlash if things go wrong. At the very least it shouldn't result in me having the mind of an infant or just straight up dying. It still has a chance of something catastrophic happening, but this felt like a leap I had to take. The potential of the debug menu is potentially infinite. I could change the world to my whim, or even the universe if I figured out how. I'm honestly scared of something going wrong, and maybe I'm jumping the gun here, but I feel like I have to test this at some point. I don't have the fortitude to just sit on this sort of power and wonder "what if" forever, and the usability of pacifiers is about the simplest perception change I can think of right now. Taking a deep breath I mentally adjusted the section of the description to read "A plastic pacifier commonly used as a soother for people of all ages. It is as commonly used as chewing gum." I don't know if that was too much or too little or what, but it seemed good enough to cover my bases. Nothing seemed to have changed other than the description, so I took some time to go through the rest of my pacifier's information trying to find anything that might cause something to break with the changed description. Things like the color, dimension, composition and so on were listed just like they were for the journal, to the extent that I was almost amazed at how much data there was on just this one pacifier. Quick note: the descriptions of objects are actually extremely long. I noticed that the journal description was pretty short in the last entry, but I think that's just because I didn't consider things like the number of pages or the specific wavelengths of light it absorbed to be significant. As I scrolled down the information my mind was snapped back to the lab by a light knocking at the door, followed by the sound of the doorknob turning. "Good morning, are you Mr. Savaric?" The person who walked in was a Hispanic woman who looked like she was about in her thirties. Her hair was cut to a bit above her shoulders. Combined with her secrataryesque glasses and lab coat, she looked extremely smart and just a little intimidating. "Ah. Yeah. Leston Savaric. Pleased to meet you." I quickly stood up to greet her. Honestly I was expecting an older Indian man named Dr. Chakraborty, as I remember him being the department head, but I'm not dumb enough to not recognize the person clearly here to speak to me as my interviewer. "I don't believe we've met Mr. Savaric. I'm Dr. Gonzales, I'll be taking over as the department chair and head researcher here at the inorganics lab starting this month." She continued on in a cheery manner as she made her way across the lab to where I was stationed. My first impression was that she was about as laid back as I expected, if surprisingly young. As she approached my lab bench, I extended my hand for a hand shake, trying my best to put on a professional looking face despite my nervousness. Rather than my hand, though, her gaze was directed at my bench, right where the pacifier was. My heart froze as I waited for her to say something. Had I failed? What's my excuse for having a pacifier? My little cousin's stuff ended up in my lab bag? Will she notice the size? Still silent, Dr. Gonzales turned to me with a disapproving frown as she looked over me a couple of times. "Mr. Savaric, I'm going to be honest, I have a hard time believing that you are actually a senior chemistry student." Crap. Mission failed! "Not only are you not wearing a lab coat or goggles, but you really left a pacifier sitting on a bench where you're working with chemicals." Wait what? "This position is meant for students who have shown that they are capable of working in a professional lab environment, and that includes observing lab safety guidelines." "Uh, the pacifier…" "While pacifiers are not specifically prohibited by the guidelines against food and drink, I think it should be obvious that anything you put in your mouth qualifies, especially when it's sitting exposed on a bench alongside caustic chemicals." Looking at myself confirmed to me that I had, in fact, forgotten my lab coat while distracted by the debug stuff. Furthermore, it should be obvious that anything that goes in your mouth should be kept away from areas with chemicals. These are such simple mistakes! I never would have made them under normal circumstances! Desperate to salvage the situation, I tried to come up with some sort of excuses, but I was cut off right as my mouth opened. "Mr. Savaric, I've been told a lot of very positive things about you, but this sort of failure to respect the very basics of lab safety is simply unacceptable, both for a prospective member of our research team, and for any chemistry student in a lab environment. If you don't have proper PPE, I'm going to have to ask you to grab your things and exit the lab." Half in a daze, and unable to muster up the strength to argue in my own defense, I picked up my bags and started walking to the door. "Mr. Savaric." A spark of hope lit in my heart. Maybe, just maybe, she might offer me a chance to redeem myself! As I turned around, I was met with the sight of her gingerly holding my pacifier by the ring, her arm outstretched as if to keep the germs as far away from her as possible. "Your pacifier?" I walked back across the room lifelessly and took it from her before pocketing it, trying not to notice as she wiped her hand on her coat, but unable to ignore the gesture she made afterwards to shoo me out of the lab. I started walking, and everything blurred. Before I noticed, I was back in my room, and had collapsed on my bed. I reached into my pocket, pulled out the pacifier, and threw the it at the opposite wall before sighing in annoyance at myself upon thinking about how I'd lose my deposit if the plastic cracked the wall. Not wanting to look at the wall, I checked my phone, which told me that it was only 8:20 in the morning. I usually wasn't even awake by now, but I now had zero energy to do anything for the rest of the day. I put my pillow over my head, closed my eyes, and tried not to think about how stupidly I had screwed up. (Author's Note: is there a way to post twice without them merging? Also: sorry for the trouble, I'm not sure what happened to the spacing, but it should be fixed now.)

Chapter 20 And that was how things were. We still cuddled at night. He still helped me wash up. We'd eat together. We'd visit the field a lot, the one where Kris would take me. But nothing changed. In my own time, I stayed down by the showers, carefully stepping out barefoot into the dirt and jumping back into the tile. I waited. Then washed. Then tried again. I never made it longer than ten seconds, always fearing panic attacks. Fearing Kris finding out. I didn't want him to know I cared so much. The days ticked by. His eye healed. The asshole boys left us alone most of the time, and when they didn't, it was the same routine. It was a boring summer. I made it through my books by the second month and gave them to Kris. I never kept books. They weren't cleaning friendly. I didn't count days. But one day, people were packing. I was already packed - I lived out of my chest, after all, though now it was mostly empty without all the candles. I didn't mention it, though. Not to Kris. I didn't want to say goodbye. I never gave up hope, not really, even as the summer stretched on. I longed for a library, for my phone - for some way to research what it was that gave Sidney his quirks. I wanted to understand it... if I could understand it, I could fix it. And I knew we both wanted that. It was an artificial goalpost to begin with - just a way for Sidney to show to himself that he was sacrificing something, overcoming something; the boy saw our relationship as inherently one-sided. I guess I could understand that guilt could be powerful - and it could ruin anything beautiful. And soon, too soon, the end of the summer approached. We hadn't talked about it, even as people started to pack. Even as the first of the boys was picked up a little early. Talking about it would mean facing the inevitable deadline of our cohabitation, and I hated that. "This is my phone number, my Facebook, my address and my email." I smiled, thoughtfully, as I slipped the piece of acid-washed paper into his hand - it was from his notepad, and I'd made sure to be immaculately clean when I wrote it down in graphite number two pencil. "You don't have to give me yours, if you're feeling scared of what it might mean if I'm still in your life. But god, Sidney... I want to be." "Have you seen my blue pajamas?" I'd packed them. I knew I had. But I needed to change the subject. This wasn't something I could talk about. I couldn't tell him what I was thinking. He'd argue. Protest. Try to change my mind. But I wasn't changing it. The summer had been nice. Nice to have someone to talk to. Nice to have someone to hold me. But ultimately, I knew from the start, all this had to go away. And without me around, maybe he'd find someone really useful. It would get better for him. And for me... well, it wouldn't get worse. "They're in your trunk. Under your red pajamas, and just above your windbreaker." He nodded softly, presuming the conversation to be over; but I smiled and continued the way that I did. "I can't have you walk out of my life, Sidney. I know it sounds weird, and stupid obsessive. And I get that, and I'm sorry.” I kissed his cheek. He was clean. He was always clean. And he deserved that, at least. I held up the little piece of paper with his information. "I'll call. If I get over this. Then I'll call. But I can't until then. Too hard." And I put the piece of paper in my pocket. It was all I could offer. A kiss on the cheek and a promise. This would be goodbye. I knew it would be. And I'd hold onto the paper, but I'd never read it. I'd put it somewhere safe. And I'd never see Kris again. I'd never hear from him again. And this would just be another goodbye. A goodbye I could handle. We wound up getting packed that day, and we spent the rest of it like any other. Together. There was always the sting of freshly-sliced onions tugging away at the back of my eyes, but I never let it reach critical mass. Not right now. Tomorrow came, though, tomorrow arrived with the two of us wound up in one-another's arms and the warmth of the morning sun kissed us both through the window. There wouldn't be the word goodbye. Just 'see you soon', the way we'd part when I went out to pick berries. And when my parents car wound up on the far end of the clearing, I looked the boy in the eyes with a smile. And I kissed his cheek. "See you soon, Sidney.” I wiped my cheek with my sleeve. I'd have to wash up again, but I didn't let my anxiety show. I liked it. The little kiss. The little symbol I'd always have, even after I cleaned it away. So for now, I could hide my anxiety. For him. "See you soon, Kris." But I didn't. He left and then me, two hours later. I was the last to go. Maybe it was a stand my parents were trying to make. I didn't know. I kept my jacket pulled around my hands as I climbed into the back seat of the car and my mother asked me, excitedly, "How was camp?". I didn't say anything. Her disappointment showed. ------------- Thank you for reading. Like & Comment! Consider supporting us on Patreon!

It's time for a new story!! ❤️ I will be posting updates every Monday & Wednesday now! Chapter 2 & 3 are already on my Patreon page! (Along with early access to my podcast, artwork, and soon to be audio stories!) https://www.patreon.com/mamabug. My youtube for my podcast - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=39Usfnhmlj4&t=15s Twitter - https://twitter.com/RedQueenBDSM I would like to thank my Patreons! ( David, dpballer92, James S., Jerry J., Kyle H., Luap1123, Matthew, Mike D, Mike S., Paul B., Ryan, Scott S., Steve, Taylor E.) I hope you all enjoy the story! xxx Chapter One “This is the last box; I’m finally on my own!” She said proudly as she took a step back and placed her hands upon her hips. She looked around her small one-bedroom apartment. It wasn’t much to look at the moment, but she didn’t care. For the past four years, she had been living with roommates while attending college, but she graduated a few months ago, and she was now on her own. It was perhaps the best feeling ever. She was also thankful that the apartment came furnished, so she only had a handful of boxes to unpack herself. She stretched out her hands into the air. “Perhaps I should say hi to the neighbors?” She thought out loud as she turned on her heels. There were three other apartments on the third floor, along with hers. It was a small apartment complex outside of the central city, but it was the only one she could afford. The first one she knocked on was the one directly next to her—apartment 303. A few moments later, a young man, about her age, with dark, messy hair and large glasses, opened the door. “Y-yes?” “Hello,” she said brightly, her hair bouncing as she spoke, “my name is Laura; I just moved here. I’m your next-door neighbor.” “Oh, hi,” he said, looking a bit nervous, “my name is Jonathan.” “Nice to meet you, Jonathan,” Laura smiled at him, “I don’t know much about this ear, so perhaps you can show me around sometime? Or at least let me know where all the good spots are.” “Sure, I suppose so…” “Thanks!” She smiled at him, giving him a small wave before heading to the last two apartments to greet them. One was an older lady who was on her own after her husband died, and the last one was a married couple that didn’t look to happy. She chatted with them for a few moments before heading back to her apartment, knowing she needed to start to unpack. As she passed Apartment 303, she paused, staring at the door for a moment, before heading back to 304, which was her apartment. “He was cute,” she mumbled to herself but shook her head. “Stop it, Laura, the last thing you need to do is prying on your next-door neighbor.” She ran her finger across the yellow sundress she currently was wearing before she went to work and started to unpack everything. By the time she was finished, the sun was already beginning to set. She was exhausted. She should have told Dan to come anyway, as he had asked her as she was about to leave if she would need any help. She figured she would be fine since she only hands a handful of boxes, but she hadn’t realized how long it would take to sort through the mess and put everything in their rightful spot. She felt her stomach; it was growling loudly. She needed to eat soon; she hadn’t had lunch. She also needed to get groceries but figured she would save that for the morning. As she was leaving her apartment, she noticed Jonathan going his at the same time. “Hey, new neighbor, where are you going?” She asked as she rushed to meet up with him. “Um, just heading to the game store…there is a new game out…” He said, looking down at his feet. “Oh sweet,” she said, “I was thinking of grabbing some dinner. Do you have any suggestions?” “There is a small diner right down the street,” he said, pointing down the road, “it’s family-owned, and it’s been there forever. The prices are great, and the food is delicious.” “Awesome!” She said with a clap of her hands. “Thank you!” “You’re welcome...” He said. She gave him a quick wave before she headed down the stairs and towards her car. It didn’t take her long to find the small diner nestled by a strip mall. It was adorable. It had several things from the 50s and 60s that they have collected over the years. There was about a handful of people in the restaurant at the time that she had walked in. A cute girl showed her a place to sit and handed her a menu. “Are you new?” She asked, and Laura smiled. “Yes, I just moved in from Huntington, where I was going to college.” “Oh, my sister is attending there right now. I’ll probably go once I graduate from high school.” She said with a smile. “Wonderful, it’s a great school.” “Well, I’ll let you look over the menu. I’ll answer any questions that you might have.” She said as she skipped away. Laura started to look over the menu; there were so many options to choose from. When out of nowhere, she could sense someone was sliding in the booth ahead of her. She looked up and noticed a young man, probably even younger than she was, sitting across from her. He was buff; she figured he probably went to the gym for several hours each morning, thick blonde hair and a square jaw. “Hey, beautiful, you new?” “Yes.” She said shortly, still looking over the menu. “Well, my name is Bradly, and I’ll be more than happy to show you around. There are a few good private places…” “No, thank you,” she didn’t look up at him. “Least, give me your number, sweetheart.” He said. “No, thank you.” She replied, once again. “Bradly, she’s not interested, now go!” The waitress soon came over, crossing her arms. Bradly looked at Laura once more, before grunting and leaving. “Sorry about him, he’s not a creep, but he hits on every beautiful girl that walks in here.” “That’s okay, thank you,” Laura said. “I know what I want to have.” The rest of her time at the diner was rather peaceful. She chatted with the young waitress, even met the restaurant owner, and chatted with them for a few minutes. Her food was delicious, as Jonathan had stated. By the time she got back home, she was exhausted and ready for bed. But, before she could slip into the shower, her phone went off. “Hello?” “Hey, beautiful! How did the move go?” It was from Dan. Part of her was slightly annoyed by him calling her, but it also comforted her a bit. “Without a hitch, pretty much everything is put away, but I’m about to go to sleep now.” “Oh, haven’t changed yet?” She took a deep breath, knowing exactly what he was talking about. Her hands slide against the side of her dress, and she shook her head. “No, I was just about to when you called me.” “Do you need me to come over there and help you?” “I think I can manage it just fine, thank you very much,” Laura said. “Listen, it’s late, and I’m tired. Goodnight, Dan.” She hung up the phone before he could say another word. The two of them dated on/off during the four years she attended college. But, for the most part, they just remained friends. Even though he could come across a little intense at times, he was a good guy and would do anything for her. She hated to admit that she missed him and felt a little anxious being in a new place with people she didn’t know. But, she needed a drastic change. All her life, she lived on the safe side of things, and for once, she wanted to walk across the bridge, without a safety rope, so she could finally discover herself. Laura walked into the bedroom and looked at the full-length mirror that she had set right beside her bed against the wall. She slowly took off her dress and placed it in the hamper in the closet, before turning herself into the mirror. She snapped off her bra, freeing her double D breast from their hold, before sliding her hands down to her waist. “Do you need me to help you?” She repeated Dan’s words in a mocking tone. “I know how to change myself.” Between her thighs instead of an ordinary pair of panties that most woman wear, was a thick diaper. She pressed her fingers against it, though she already knew that it was slightly wet. She pulled at the tabs of the diaper, letting it fall to the ground. She cleaned herself up, before sliding under the covers, naked and falling asleep.

Im also incontinent meds mainly Sent from my A501DL using Tapatalk

I was diagnosed with PDD-NOS when I was 3 but I got diagnosed with Autism when I was 18. Sent from my Pixel 4 using Tapatalk

I have Autism Spectrum Disorder Attention Deficit Hyperactive Disorder Obsessive Compulsive Disorder Pervasive Development Disorder Not Otherwise Specified Sent from my A501DL using Tapatalk

Wearing them get rid of Anxiety. I was in the same boat as you I am a aspie

I know for a fact my wife who has a weak bladder and has been wearing night time diapers for the last several years will wet a 1 or 2 times a night, buy the time she get up in the morning her bladder is bursting again and she'll just wet her diaper again while she is getting ready for her shower. I always giggle quietly when she stands up and complains about gravity kicking in and she is running to the potty trying not to pee her big girl panties/pullups hence why we go through a lot of pullups and poise pads a month for her.

For probably the past month or maybe a little longer, unless I have to go out to the store (jeans and button shirt over), I have been wearing my Changing Times Diaper Company "Bear Hugz" diaper shirt and PUL pants almost 24/7. I usually wear a LeakMaster PUL pant underneath too. I switch to just wearing the LeakMaster and a t-shirt or a onesie when I need to do my laundry, then on my next change it's back into the Bear Hugz. The waterproof pants kind of look like baby bloomers from the 60's, very puffy, much more so than the LeakMaster pants of the same leg and waist dimensions.

Chapter 21 "I just don't know..." Linda - Sidney's Mom - spoke with a sense of disappointment in her tone to her husband, Mark. They'd put so much faith into the summer away - that being immersed in so much dirt, roughhousing with the boys, the joy of nature... how could he have survived and still not broken through? It had been heartbreaking in the first place to send him away; to know that it had been for nothing was even worse. "He'll grow out of it, Linda. It's a phase." "Mark! Our son hasn't said a word in seven years. He's scared to leave his own bedroom. It's not a phase, it's not something he'll 'grow out of'. He's not well." The two of them talked in the car as though Sidney wasn't even there - for all the contribution he had to the conversation, he might as well not have been. She took a softer tone and looked over her shoulder, trying to mask her flustered frustration. "Did you make any friends?" She knew the answer would be no. Sidney didn't like the risk of friends. I nodded my head. That brought a smile to my mom's lips. I couldn't tell her about Kris, of course, and even if I could I wasn't sure how she'd take it. I'd likely omit the part about us kissing each other's cheeks and lying in the same twin sized bed. But none of that mattered - I couldn't talk to her anyway. Before she turned back toward my father I rubbed my hands together, trying to ask if she'd brought wipes with her. She was always quite considerate of my quirks, despite them scaring the hell out of her. But three months without me, three months with my dad... maybe that changed. "We hadn't thought we'd need to,” Mark said, but Linda sighed a little with a smile and pulled a sealed package of cleaning wipes out of her purse, gently handing them back to the boy. "Linda... we talked about this. We can't pander to it. It's tough love." "No, Mark, sending him away and expecting he'd just be fixed through suffering is tough love. Making him sit in the back of the car when he feels unclean is suffering he doesn't need." It was often like that - she was more considerate; she tried to be understanding. But she also grew up in a household with six siblings - there wasn't space for that level of attention. I gave my mother a thankful smile and wiped my hands off, running the damp wipe along the center of my left cheek. I'd washed it before, though. Then, with the other side, folded, I put the wipe to the window and cleaned it off, putting my head against the glass. Today was exhausting. Today I'd had to say goodbye to Kris. I couldn't even think about him - it made me dizzy with anxiety. I knew better. I threw the wipe away in the grocery bag that hung off the back of the chair. Trash. Sidney’s parents continued to talk throughout the drive home - it was about an hour away from Boston; which meant the drive home for Kris must have been significantly longer. It was about a half hour later when Linda said something else to her son; though his eyes were closed. "So, your friend is from Boston? Maybe we could arrange a play date." She knew it was pointless, of course - friends were a liability to her son. She desperately tried to connect, though; she longed for her son to talk to her. I shook my head, eyes still closed. I found it horribly condescending that my mother used words like 'play date' with her seventeen year old boy, even if I was the size of a thirteen year old. But what could I do? It wasn't like I could tell her to use different words. She was doing the best she could. And it didn't matter. Even if Kris could come over, I wouldn't let him. We were separated now. And while that was difficult, it was also proper. "I think we might go and see Dr. Yiselle some time this week, how does that sound?" Quite unlike Kris, Sidney's Mom was never about direct statements. She made everything a question to which she'd already determined the answer to way ahead of time. The illusion of choice. "That sounds like a good idea, doesn't it boy? We'll talk more about some of those medications." "Mark..." "The doctor said that there were plenty of treatment options." "He also doesn't like the idea of drugs. They scare him." The likelihood of me dying from rolling out of a moving car going 65 miles per hour down a three lane freeway in the middle lane... probably high risk. And I'd have to touch the pavement, which was infinitely more terrifying. So I sighed and took another wipe, rubbing down the seat next to me and lying down across the bench. All the doctor talked about was giving me different kinds of medication, mostly to treat my "depression". He was clearly an idiot. I wasn't depressed. I just couldn't talk. I was labelled a hypochondriac at age twelve and put on placebos for a year. That didn't help and the diagnosis was repealed. And somehow, he's still my treating physician. How stupid could someone be? "We'll talk about it when we get home." Linda looked over her shoulder and sighed a little. "He's such an angel, Mark. Maybe he's just too precious for this world." "He's going to have to become a man one day, honey. How's he going to attract a nice girl, provide for her?" "I don't think relationships are something on his mind. He couldn't deal with intimacy." The drive continued inexorably until the car finally pulled up in the driveway of the little brick two story suburban. I regretted not jumping out of the car. When we finally pulled into the driveway I was the first out of the vehicle. I just wanted to get up to my room. Just wanted to lie on my bed. Just wanted to be alone. It had been so long since I'd been able to get away, and I was eager, especially after the longest hour I'd had to endure in months. It was another hour or so later before Linda knocked on her son’s bedroom door and smiled. "I'm going to come in now, is that okay?" 'Is that okay' was something recommended to the boy’s parents by his doctor, though Linda missed the entire point of it by asking it, and then proceeding regardless. She opened the door and smiled helpfully. "I was hoping we could talk about your friends? Maybe one of them could come over. Would you like that?" He wouldn't. But she was so desperate just to see him smile. I shook my head. My room was just the way I'd left it three months ago, notoriously tidy. And still, I had begun cleaning it again. Just making sure. After all, it had been three months. So I washed everything. Wiped everything. And after all was done, I stripped my bed and took ever piece of fabric out of my closet, one at a time with the sleeves of my coat. I'd wash all of it. "Sweetie, don't you hate always being alone?" School was something Sidney could handle on occasion, but more and more he'd have his lessons sent home and he'd take care of them in the safety of his tidy little bedroom. "If you made some friends, I think you should stay in touch. I mean, not many people know how to handle you properly. You should hold onto those that do. You never know when another will come into your life." Conversations like this never lasted long. Mom would come in. She'd babble. She'd give up. She'd leave. I'd sit alone again. And that was exactly what happened. I put the strip of paper in my desk drawer and started the laundry. I didn't finish it for two full days. It was a lot of laundry. ------------- Thank you for reading. Like & Comment! Consider supporting us on Patreon!

This happens to me basically every morning and I am incontinent. I wake up with a wet diaper but I always wet it more within a few minutes of waking up.

The one I bought is not cheap, $140, but its made in titanium and alu, with a 3 meter cord (~10 feet) I have enough outlets and live alone so I wont have to hide it In the 10 years I have lived here I have never had visitors (I visit them)

I wouldn’t worry too much about being seen or judged in the lingerie section, or women’s clothing section in general. There are plenty of reasons to be there, and the sizes are close to each other for underwear. If you did run into another person you knew, you would have to intentionally flaunt the packaging, having it front and center, and facing the right way and then have them contextualizea the sizes, guessing the size of your wife, and you. Next they would need to contextualize the brand, the size, the fact that compression garments run smaller, have experience with all of that, and scrutinize the run in. Finally they would have to assume you’re purchasing it for yourself because you want to wear women’s underwear, and for some reason compression garments are your thing- rather than some sexy lingerie. Most women know compression garments aren’t usually found in the men’s section and you could be using it for yourself because you happen to need it and the women’s section has the best selection. If everything went perfectly wrong, many men have interest in trying women’s clothing out of curiosity, kinks, pushing back against gender roles, self expression, etc etc. Up until a couple hundred years ago men and women of royalty dresses really similar, very frilly. Babies dresses similarly, pink was the boy’s color. Etc. and nowadays there is a slow revolt of the limitations of men’s clothing options and the inability to use clothing as a form of self expression, unless you really know what to look for (the small details in men’s suits for instance). For that whole history I’d suggest checking out the podcast “articles of interest “ a 99% invisible podcast https://99percentinvisible.org And as for asking your wife? I think compression pants from the women’s section is much less taboo than asking for diapers. Heck she might even appreciate that you have an interest in discretion, and is likely to both know/understand your reasons for asking, know that no changes in nappy habits are coming, and know the availability of compression pants in store. (Not to mention the fit over a diaper of compression pants is much closer to women’s body shape than men’s). Lastly, on the spectrum of kinks- women’s underwear is SUPER VANILLA! But, that’s just my .02 cents. Your mileage may vary, but hopefully with compression pants, your diaper mileage during exercise and even day to day will be extended!

Thank you, that actually does help. I was never a bedwetter growing up, at least not that I can recall so no reference points to how my body worked back then. I agree that position and force to complete a void are likely in play. I doubt that the typical voiding muscles and habits are in place to complete the void at night, and previous experiences have dictated that even when I had full control over these muscles gravity played a large part as it creates pressure. The lack of a bursting bladder or even a full sensation leads me to believe there’s some muscle atrophy and nerve issues at play as well. When I wore voluntarily at night due to the stars aligning I went through the period it seems many here go through of the “wake and decide”, “wake band fall asleep”, and then the “half awake”, and finally the “did I wake?” and “I definitely did not wake up”. There seems to be a correlation in this progression with sleep quality and tossing and turning. On nights where I am tossing and turning I’m still somewhere in the middle there, though those are becoming less and less. Those nights I also tend to wake with a noticeably full bladder more times than not. On nights where I sleep soundly I find I’m in the same position more times than not when I wake up, and the different positions have slight variances in how much fluid is in my bladder when I awake, but not how much is in the diaper. In any case, I appreciate the feedback, thank you!

I have a queen size bed. Sleep is too important for me to try and pretzel myself into a small bed.

I guess corded is old school now. I've got two.....one for home and one for travelling

Hi, @BlakeJordan; I wear nappies voluntarily, so I'm not sure if my response to your inquiry is going to give you much useful information or not, but here goes... So what precipitated my lifelong fixation with wearing diapers was chronic bed wetting. Back then, I was essentially incontinent when I slept, but I did used to awaken on occasion with at least some fluid in my bladder. I recall the internal debate; do I just pee in my diaper? How wet is it already? Or get up and pee in the toilet? What time is it? Etc. I started on my journey back to wearing diapers 24/7 by wearing them to bed, something which I've been doing for a about 2.5 years now pretty much without interruption. I settled on the idea after actually wetting the bed a couple of times over about 6 months, which hadn't happened to me in probably 30 years, and which may be related to a benign brain tumour I was diagnosed with. I discussed it with my neurologist, and he said that it "might be related", but basically gave it a shrug, because compared with a lot of his patients, my prognosis is a walk in the park. But I thought, hey, waking up in a wet bed sucks, and, I want to wear diapers, ergo, the stars have aligned. And before I came out to my spouse about it, it offered me something to resort to, if I were "caught". Over the course of that time, I have involuntarily "wet the bed" (wet my diaper) while I slept on a few occasions, although usually I initiate the process and then fall back to sleep, which is different from when I was a kid, and almost never did it voluntarily. On those occasions when I have wet the bed with no recollection of having decided to do so, I usually still wake up with some fluid in my bladder. So, I think even if all the gates are open, in a relaxed state, you're not going to fully evacuate your bladder, and how much remains is going to depend on the position you're sleeping in. But, as I said, I'm 98% not incontinent, so my thoughts on this may be of limited value.

still with the corded version but the best toy out there.

Great time for diapers for sure. Who wants to go in a nasty restroom these days.

See who I'm friends with on Twitter, i follow a ton of ABDL baby girls who do private skype shows: https://twitter.com/JennOTK

Ah, well I respect your opinion. Aerospace and Ocean Engineering are two sides of the same coin, so we can bond over that

You can post twice without it merging after a set limit of time. I don't remember what that limit is. Elfy or DailyDi would be able to tell you that. I'm enjoying this - poor guy on the job! Take your time with this, I like your world building even though I've been lost a few times. Looking forward to more!

You can only do what works for you. Stay home, stay safe and try to think positive thoughts! Hugs!

There is a 'little' denial going on me thinks

Chapter 3 “Just… let us in, for the love of Desna.” The guard looked at the ragged party, wrinkling his nose in a conspicuous way, then looking back at the guild papers. “Where’d you get this?” Sandra rubbed at the bridge of her nose, groaning. “It’s ours. We’re a licensed party with the guild.” He didn’t hide his disdain as he surveyed them. “If the four of you are guild members, their standards must have gone through the floor. You’re not just some vagabonds who stole these papers off a real party, are you?” Sandra damned their horrible timing. If they’d gotten to the city ten minutes sooner, it would have been to open gates. Now, after sunset, they were at the will of the evening guard. If she couldn’t convince him to let them through, they could be stuck camping outside the walls until sunrise. “Gods dammit all…” Sandra muttered, reaching out for their guild license. “Just let us in. You’ve got no reason to hold us.” “Ah, ah,” the guard warned, holding up the paper, out of reach. “It’s after sunset, I’ve got the authority to keep anyone out I deem suspect. I think you might have stolen these papers.” Sandra tried to snatch at the folded-up license in his hands, but he held it further up, and there was no getting to them without getting violent. Looking back at her friends, who were all a few paces back, she glowered. “What do you want? A bribe? We’re almost broke, I don’t have anything to give you.” The guard touched his breastplate in mock offense. “Do you think so little of us? We’re motivated by protecting the city and its people, not by how much gold we can hoard.” “You want something,” Sandra grumbled. “What is it?” Flashing his teeth in a mocking grin, the guard said, “Admit that the guild’s standards have gone through the floor, to let such sorry excuses like you in.” Sandra couldn’t even work up enough anger to want to punch the guard. Avoiding eye contact, she kept her voice low so that her party wouldn’t hear. “The guild’s standards have gone through the floor to let us in.” “And,” the guard gloated. “That you’re a bunch of posers who fight worse than you stink.” Flushing from ear to ear, Sandra mumbled, “And we’re a bunch of posers who fight worse than we stink.” “Alright then,” the guard said, passing back their guild paperwork with a sarcastic smile. “I think you’ve confirmed that these belong to you after all. Have a nice visit in the City.” Facing her party, Sandra waved them over as the guard began opening the gate. She wanted to be more pissed than she was. Not literally, maybe, her diaper already felt like it was sloshing around between her legs, but figuratively there just wasn’t any anger in her. She was tired, and humiliated, and lacked any fuel to challenge the guard’s infuriating power trip. Then again, that was probably for the best. Arguing more would have gotten them barred from the city, and it was hard to be intimidating when everyone could smell what was weighing down the back of her trousers. The side door that led through the wall was unlocked and opened, and the four of them trudged through. Some ten feet down, the far door was opened by a second guard, giving access to the city proper. Stepping through, Sandra looked around, let her shoulders slump, and stopped walking. They’d made it to the City. They were close to broke, without the commission she’d been banking on. She couldn’t show her face at the guild bar in a smelly diaper, and they couldn’t afford to stay at any other inn. “Sandra?” Tarja asked, stepping up behind her. “Are you okay?” She tensed at the changeling touching her shoulder, in what was probably supposed to be a comforting gesture. It was a stupid question, that she saw no point in answering. “Where should we go from here?” “... I don’t know.” Sandra’s voice was low, almost a whisper. Tarja stepped closer. “What?” “I don’t know what to do!” Sandra snapped, wheeling on the party. “I screwed up, okay? I got us into trouble, and then I got us into more trouble, and now we’re in deep shit and we’ve got no way of fixing it. Do I need to spell it out?” Tarja shook her head. “Sandra, you’re not-” “Save it.” She turned her back on the group, not wanting any more argument. By the heavy boot steps, it was Quinn who stepped up behind her. “Let’s get to the temple. The inn can wait, and we might be able to get Sandra cured.” Even he knows I’m a joke. “Come on, let’s get going.” Quinn waved them forward, strolling down the road as if nothing was wrong. He was taking his curse in stride more than Sandra was, at least, but that only made her feel worse. She was responsible for what had happened to him, too, he shouldn’t have been the one taking charge to fix it. Waddling slightly, disgusted by the muck that was squelching against her thighs, Sandra followed behind. Even Hadrian followed, though without understanding Common, he would only have the barest gist of what had just gone down. At least the temple was easy to spot. Calistria wasn’t exactly a subtle god, and her followers had built temples in kind. The ostentatious building near the edge of the market square towered over its neighbors, black and yellow, like an enormous hornet. The heavy doors were open, and inside, past the doors to private dungeons, was an open cathedral for prayer, self-flagellation, and consultation. Only a few people were there at this late hour, but it wasn’t totally abandoned either. “Hello?” Quinn called, stepping inside. At the front of the hall, standing over an altar, a priestess stood in long, black-and-yellow robes. “Come in, my children! What do you seek?” “Curse breaking and magic stuff!” Quinn called back, walking inside. Sandra came in after him, staring mostly at the floor, mindful of the rest of the party as they looked around the open space. “Can you pay?” the priestess called, from her raised pedestal. “Or did you come here expecting charity?” “We have… some… money,” Quinn said, glancing back at Sandra. She only shook her head in response. Quinn faced her once more. “I have a couple gold!” The priestess chuckled, her mirth rippling through the whole temple. “If that’s all, then I expect model behavior from all of you. If you wish my help, you will allow me to work as I see fit. Understood?” Her tone sent a shiver down Sandra’s back. This priestess had power, and it was reflected in things as simple as her laugh. Stepping down, the priestess walked sensually towards the four of them, hips sashaying from side to side as she walked between the cathedral’s pews. A foot away from Quinn, tall enough to look down at him, she said, “What was done to you, then, half breed?” “I… isn’t it obvious?” Quinn asked, looking down at his chest. “I didn’t ask for these breasts.” “You could have fooled me,” the priestess giggled. “They suit you quite well.” Quinn blushed, but didn’t let himself get distracted. “My armor was also transmuted, it’s now some sort of pink, frilly thing.” She arched an eyebrow. “Do you have it with you?” He nodded. “Let me see.” Reaching in his bag, Quinn produced the mass of pink lace and fabric, holding it up for the priestess to examine. She looked it over, turned it a few times in her hands, and passed it back. “Which of you stinks?” Sandra flushed, looking up slightly. “I… that’s me.” “I see. What was done to you?” “... a cursed diaper.” Sandra looked back down, staring at her toes. Tittering, the priestess asked, “Why did you put on a diaper?” “I didn’t know-” Sandra started, catching herself. Stay on her good side. “It looked like clean underwear.” “You put on clean underwear that you’d found in a dungeon?” She raised an eyebrow. “Be honest with me, now.” “I…” Sandra flushed deeper. “I’d wet myself earlier.” “Aha, that’s it.” The priestess stepped over to Sandra. “Let me see. I need to examine it directly.” “But…” Sandra looked around the cathedral room. They’d drawn a few eyes onto them already, and she couldn’t- The priestess took Sandra’s jaw in her hand, forcing Sandra to look up and make eye contact with her. “Child. I broach no disobedience in my temple. Show me, now.” Burning red, eyes watering as she stared into the priestess’s hard gaze, Sandra reached down and unbuckled her pants. As much as they’d been straining to stay up over her bulging diaper, the pants fell to the ground almost instantly. Her sagging, sodden diaper was exposed to the temple, stained a dark yellow that faded to brown at the bottom. At least nobody in the temple laughed, save for the priestess, who chuckled at Sandra’s timid obedience. Crouching, she squeezed the front of Sandra’s diaper, then reached around back and pressed a hand into the seat, testing its weight like a matron determining whether Sandra needed a change. This groping lasted for most of a minute, with the priestess’s knowing smirk never leaving Sandra’s field of view. When she was done, she stepped back, making eye contact once more. “I like you, child. Do not move.” Sandra almost asked, ‘why’, but there was no point. Ashamed that things had gotten to this point, she looked down at her toes and stood perfectly still. “You,” the priestess snapped, looking at Tarja. “Your voice is cracking, you’re standing wide, and you’ve got the look of someone who’s just taken a swift kick where one would particularly want to avoid. Shall I assume the obvious without needing to shame you in front of the cathedral?” Why does she get to keep her dignity? Sandra fumed, while Tarja passively nodded. “And the wizard,” the priestess mused, tapping a finger on her mouth as she considered. “Is he language-locked?” “Yes, ma’am,” Quinn said. “I think he’s only speaking Sylvan right now, but I’m not sure. I’ve got no ear for tongues.” “Well then,” the priestess declared, stepping back. “I can do nothing to fix your woes.” “What?” Sandra snapped, anger managing to come out, finally. Stepping forward and jabbing a finger at the priestess, she yelled, “You put me through all that for nothing? Just so you could-” The priestess waved a hand, and Sandra was thrown on her ass, landing with an unfortunate squelch. She opened her mouth to yell, but found her voice was gone. “I told you not to move!” The priestess snapped. “Now, child, stay silent and listen.” The rest of the party gaped, attempting to speak, but to no avail. It had to have been a radius effect then. Sandra could have moved, walked out of the aura and yelled at the priestess, but it seemed like that sort of tantrum would just get her into more trouble. “I can do nothing to fix your woes,” the priestess continued, sharply. “But I know who did this to you, and I can give you both resources to mitigate your afflictions, and information on how to find the wizard who cursed you. However, if you are going to yell and gripe like petulant children, then I see no reason why I should lend you aid!” No. I did it again. We had something good, and I ruined it, and- “Stop your whimpering,” the priestess snapped, reaching out her hand towards Sandra. “And stand.” There was no reason not to obey. Wiping at her nose, Sandra took her hand and got up, a little off-balance. “You disobeyed,” the priestess continued. “After being given explicit instructions, you decided to bite the hand that would feed you. If you wish my help, you will first accept whatever punishment I deem fit. Understood?” Sandra opened her mouth, then remembered the silence effect and nodded her head. Without any further warning, her grip tightened around Sandra’s wrist and she began walking towards the head of the cathedral, talking all the while. “I am going to spank you ten times. You may balk and cry all that you wish. If you tell me to stop, I will stop, and you will not be allowed back into this temple. Understood?” Away from the aura of silence, Sandra stammered, “Y-yes!” “This is going to hurt, child. Do you understand that?” Her tone was no longer angry, but it was more firm than ever as she dragged Sandra up onto the raised platform. Dragging out a seat from behind the lectern, the priestess sat down, taking Sandra with her, twisting the unfortunate rogue’s arm so that her diapered bottom was waving in the air. I can’t fail them again. Sandra gritted her teeth, bracing for impact. Before the spankings began, though, the priestess dug in her robes and, from her component pouch, retrieved a few coarse hairs that she twiddled between her fingers. Why… Sandra wondered, before recognizing them more specifically as hairs from a bull. Oh. No. Shi- With her strength enhanced by magic, the Priestess brought her hand down like a thundercrack. It hit the back of Sandra’s diaper, and though there was a layer of thick padding and soft muck that cushioned the blow slightly, the pain was still enough to rock Sandra forward and elicit a sudden, involuntary whimper. She barely noticed the way that the spank mushed around her mess, smearing it into every corner of her diaper, but as the sudden stinging pain started to fade, she became aware of that element too. Just as she was starting to feel disgusted, though, another thunderous spank came down, and humiliation was replaced by pain. I can’t- I can’t fail them! Hands balling into fists, Sandra braced herself for the next impact. It wasn’t enough. As the priestess’s open hand came down on her backside, Sandra cried out, her whimpers echoing through the entire cathedral, the acoustics amplifying her helpless cries of pain. Another blow, and tears began streaming down Sandra’s face. She’d been cut before, she’d been stabbed, she even got set on fire once by a particularly devilish trap, but all that pain had been tempered by adrenaline. This just hurt. The fifth blow almost broke her. Sandra clutched at the priestess’s legs, sobbing openly, kicking her feet. It’s too much. I can’t- I have to stop, I have to- For just a moment, the priestess’s hand faltered, and Sandra heard her whisper. “Is it too much, baby?” The reprieve was barely a fraction of a second, but the words wormed their way into Sandra’s thoughts. I’m not a baby. I can do thi- “AAAH!” she screamed, voice growing hoarse. The pain was immense, but her resolve had been tempered. The next spanking came, and she sobbed, but she didn’t even think of stopping. She couldn’t give up on her party, not when they were counting on her. She lost count, but it didn’t much matter. It was over when it was over. Sandra continued to cry over the priestess’s knee long after the spanks ended, as the stinking pain resolved into tender bruising. Soft fingers rubbed circled on her back, and the priestess whispered quiet words that were lost over her crying. The words didn’t matter, it was the tone that was important. Sitting her up, the priestess pulled Sandra into a hug, whispering in her ear. “The bruises will resist magical healing, but they will fade in time. How do you feel?” “I…” Sandra sniffled, wiping at her face. “I… I did it.” The priestess flashed a knowing smile. “Oh?” “I didn’t fail them,” she clarified. “I… I made it.” “That you did.” The priestess smiled, and inhaled sharply. “Doesn’t it smell sweet?” Brow furrowing, Sandra almost responded with a sarcastic quip, but then she realized that the foul stink that had been following her around for the past hour had vanished, replaced with a softly perfumed baby powder. “Did you…?” “No,” the priestess corrected. “It’s a self cleaning spell, child. Every six hours, or every hour after you’ve made a stinky diaper, it’ll purge itself.” “How do you know that?” Sandra asked. “Could you detect that-” “I know who did this to you. I’ve met him,” the priestess explained. “Let’s get your party together, and then I’ll tell you all I can.” ... Sandra was reluctant to sit down, but the priestess had set five chairs around the table, and it was clear she wasn’t going to start until they were all seated. Wincing, she sat down on the wooden chair, her tender bottom protesting at the hard surface. The padding offered by her diaper was cold comfort - literally, since after refreshing itself, it was cool and comfortable - that didn’t much mask how badly the bruises were stinging. She put up with it. It wasn’t a fraction as bad as the spanking had been. “My children,” the priestess said, taking her seat at the head of the table. “The threat you are up against is one that, frankly, you have no business fighting at your current skill level.” “So, we’re underdogs,” Quinn said. “Underdogs have won before.” “More like newborn whelps,” the priestess corrected. “I’ve met the wizard that did this to you, and he’s no force to meddle with. If you go after him, it’s entirely possible that you’ll end up far worse off than you are now.” “So, we’ll grind on the way,” Sandra said, nodding. “It’s a big threat. We’ll be careful.” The priestess shook her head. “Don’t be so certain of your course until you’ve heard me out. You may dislike your current state, but imagine yourself, not just incontinent, but trapped in a nursery, incapable of thinking about anything save for filling your diapers. He’s done that, and worse, to those who tried to get in his way.” Sandra paused. She could sense the hesitation around the table, coming from everyone save Hadrian, who still had no idea what was being said. She took charge. “We don’t abide bullies. We’ll train hard and prepare first, but we’re not going to let this slide forever. Who is he?” The priestess’s eyes sparkled. “I don’t know his name, but he calls himself the Wizard of Paraphilia. He got his start with the temple, but his goals soon grew past the domain of Calistria. I know not what, but he’s searching for something, and everyone who’s gotten in his way, even incidentally, has been left humiliated.” “What do diapers and frilly outfits have to do with his research?” Tarja asked. “I’ve heard of wizards seeking power, of course, but this is… different.” “I don’t know. It’s frankly unprecedented, but he doesn’t seem to be seeking power in the strictest sense.” The priestess rubbed at her chin, considering. “Last that I heard, he was somewhere in the northern mountains, where the abandoned mines are.” “Apparently he’s not there, because he had a base set up in a dungeon a day’s travel from here, by Marston,” Sandra said. “Any idea what he might be doing locally?” “He moves around, to avoid direct confrontations,” the priestess said. “If there’s one thing that matches his ability in humiliations, it’s his ability to teleport. He can have a stronghold a thousand miles away from where he’s working and never skip a beat.” Quinn cut right to the chase. “Then how do we fight him?” “Well, you don’t mindlessly pursue,” the priestess said. “If I were to go about it, I’d try to find what he was after, and use that to set a trap. Whether you can make good on that trap, though… it’s no mean thing.” “It’s something to start with,” Sandra said, sighing. “Anything else you can give us?” The priestess considered it. “Half-orc. What’s your name?” “Quinn, ma’am,” he said, automatically. “Quinn. You may as well wear that bra you found. It can’t affect you any more than it already has, and you’ll find you hurt less if you give them support. You’ll also want to get a pump.” Their bloodrager frowned, brow furrowing. “A pump? Like, for a well? Why-” “Quinn,” Tarja cut in. “For the milk.” He blinked a couple times in realization. “Oh.” “Your wizard should get his languages back in a matter of days. He seems quick enough that the curse won’t hamper him for long. The pacifier, though… not much you can do about that, save to remove it when it shows up.” “What about me?” Tarja asked, blushing a little. “And my-” “A few options, for you,” she said. “I’d recommend getting your armor… readjusted, to provide a little more protection there. For the other effects, you might just seek out a potions maker who can keep your hormones level. Nothing specifically bad will happen if you don’t, but you’ll find yourself changing in ways you may not appreciate.” Tarja sat back, glancing around uncertainly at the rest of the party. There was no judgement for what she was going through, though, and she relaxed. “And, for you…” the priestess said, looking down at Sandra. “Yeah?” “Don’t forget to drink plenty of water. You may wish to dehydrate yourself, to avoid as many accidents as possible. Don’t.” Her tone made it clear that this was an instruction, not a question. Sandra felt the odd suspicion that if she didn’t obey, the priestess would come looking for her and make her drink water. “Thanks,” Sandra said. It wasn’t the news she wanted, but it was the best news she would get. Getting to her feet - she wanted to not be sitting on a hard surface if at all possible. “I appreciate all your help.” A small smile played over the priestess’s lips. “All of it?” Sandra blushed. She didn’t deny it. … The nearest guild-friendly bar was a bit bigger than the Sodden Songbird, but the grime was a bit worse. It was a tradeoff Sandra was willing to make, since their rooms were cheap for licensed adventurers, and she didn’t feel like camping. “Four rooms,” she told the tavern’s owner, leaning against the bar rather than sitting in one of their metal stools. “Or, four beds. Whatever’s cheaper.” “Got some double rooms,” the barkeep replied, nodding. “You’re guild, right?” “Right,” Sandra said. “Came into town after a job.” “Sure thing. Lemme check if both the double rooms are open, I’ll let you know in a moment. Drinks?” “Four, please, and whatever you’ve got for grub.” The barkeep nodded. “I’ll bring it by in a minute.” “Thanks.” Sandra knocked on the bar and turned to walk back to their table, where her party was commiserating. Hadrian gestured to a particular chair, and Sandra eyed it for a moment before sitting down. To her surprise, it was cold. Not icy, just cool enough to convey the temperature through her diaper and soothe her aching backside. “O-oh. Thanks.” Hadrian replied in Sylvan. “Ray of Frost is more useful than people give it credit for. I’ll just reuse it every minute or so to keep things cool.” “That’s clever.” Sandra relaxed into the seat. It wasn’t exactly a pain killer, but it was soothing. “Well, we didn’t get paid, but we got some information. That’s better than nothing.” “Damn pegasi,” Quinn grumbled. “Agreed,” Tarja added. “Majestic creatures they may be, but they’re cheapskates.” “Suppose Anand will still give us the five-” Sandra started, stopping when she felt a hand on her shoulder. “You with the guild?” She didn’t recognize the voice, but it was deep, gruff, and threatening. “Who’s it to you?” Their hand didn’t move, and it felt more and more like a threat. “There was a scuffle outside of town today. Someone tried to get at a pegasus. Someone with the guild got in their way.” Under the table, Sandra spun her fingers, calling up an umbral dagger. Gaze moving to her party members, she got ready for a fight. “Sir, I’m going to ask that you remove your hand from my shoulder right this second, or you’ll get a firsthand experience of what happens when the guild gets in your way.” The hand pulled away, and Sandra looked back at the figure. He was tall, muscled, a barbarian by the looks of him, with flowing golden hair that came down past his shoulders. And, pinned on his robes was the badge of a guild master. “Oh,” she said, feeling sheepish. “I- Um, excuse me. I thought you were coming for a little payback.” He laughed, and his laugh was a stark contrast to his rough voice. “You think some no-name bandits would come looking for payback in a guild friendly bar?” Shoulders relaxing, Sandra chuckled. “Fair point.” The guild master leaned over the table. “So, you were the ones escorting the pegasus?” “That’s right.” His hand moved, and a heavy canvas pouch landed on the table, making a jingling ‘thunk’ sound. “He came by to commend you on your work. Said you could have run, but you put yourself in harms way and almost got killed cutting him free.” “So…” Sandra eyed the coin bag. It would be rude and improper to pour it out and count it on the table, but she was tempted to anyways. “We’re getting paid after all?” “He wasn’t about to argue that you didn’t finish the job when you saved his life,” the guild master pointed out. “Said he threw something else in there, too.” Her curiosity overtook her sense of propriety and Sandra picked up the bag, turning it over on the table. Fifteen coins jingled onto the table. Ten were gold, but five glimmered with shiny, silvery refinement. Platinum. Not fifteen gold, then. Sixty. Her eyes widened looking at the haul. It still wasn’t a lot, some well-to-do adventurers would spend more than that on a single round of drinks, but it was enough to cover their expenses for a good long while. Long enough to get another job, maybe, or… long enough to go north. “While you’re in town,” the guild master said, still standing by the table. “I might have a job for you.” “Yeah?” Sandra asked. “What is it?” The guildmaster glanced to his side. “Another escort job. There’s a merchant’s daughter who turned eighteen recently, and she’s getting married by the capital.” Sandra nodded. “Dangerous?” “Not overly. There’s nobody who wants to stop the wedding, so far as we’re aware. It’s not as though it’s a political alliance they could foil. You’d just have to watch out for the usual ruffians.” “Pay?” Sandra raised an eyebrow. If it was another pittance, she’d… well, she’d still take the job, but she’d be crabby about it. “Five thousand gold.” “Done.” Another chapter down! Chapter 4 is on my commission queue, but since that queue is a mile long, it might be a while before it gets posted. I really like how this one turned out - the blend of fantasy kink with regular kink worked quite well. My commission slots are currently closed, but if you want to support my writing, consider chipping in a couple dollars on Patreon: www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling You'll also get early access to all my noncommissioned work, and at the 5$+ tier, you'll get access to an exclusive story every month that only Patrons get to read, and the ability to vote on what that exclusive story will be.

I too often just sit on an evening in just my nappy. My wife never bats an eyelid it is just normal.

My wife fully accepts my need for diapers, and I have no issues putting on a diaper with her in the room, When at home (Its. just the 2 of us) I wear nothing but a diaper when its hot. Diapers are a non issue they are just my underwear that is absorbent and are medically required so theres no shame or need to hide the fact I am wearing them 24/7.

The one I have now is rechargeable with usb, and gets the job done in fairly short time, but i want it to last for longer sessions Doxy is apparently the strongest massager on the market and have won a prize

Swish and flick, baby.

Chapter 19 By the time Sidney returned to the cabin, I was laying down - on the top bunk, as per his request. I'd been asleep when he arrived, but the door woke me up. I didn't stir, though. On the bottom bunk was the notepad - six and a half pages of reasons to be together. And the very last one, if he made it so far, read; 'I like who I am when I'm with you. And I think for the first time in your whole life, you like who you are, too.' I only read through half of the first page before I closed the notebook and put it on the floor by my bed. So we really weren't sleeping together, huh? And he wasn't going to give this up. I felt so unhappy in that moment. But I couldn't go back on my deal. I couldn't act like it was okay, us being together, no matter how many reasons he had. So I lit my candles - new ones for today - and shut my eyes, hoping sleep would take me. He was only in bed with his eyes closed for a few minutes before I crawled down to his bed and cuddled up in my usual position. He opened his mouth to protest, but I put my finger to his lips and pressed my body as closed to his and I could manage; my leg slipping beneath his blanket and between his legs for the first time. It was a huge step, and I didn't know how he'd take it - but I had a good feeling. “Shh. Close your eyes." I only had a glimpse of Kris' face before my eyes closed again. He was lying next to me. But he'd chosen quite the opposite. Unless... "Does this mean..." His finger was still to my lips as I spoke and it felt very... wrong. Like I'd done something disobedient. I bit my lip and tried to wiggle into a position less awkward, but he didn't let me move. I didn't understand... My leg beneath his blanket, in his special space; slipped higher between his legs until the top of my thigh gently brushed against his crotch— I didn't know what happened. I cried. Really cried. Like a sobbing child. Kris was standing two feet away, hesitance all over his face. He didn't dare step closer. I hugged my knees. My nails clung to my pajama pants, even though they'd been outside. I hadn't changed. My back was to the two walls furthest from the bunk beds and my butt was in the corner of the floor. Why was I crying? I only remembered... It hadn't gone well... not the way I'd planned. Not the way I'd hoped. And every time I tried to get closer, he'd scream and sob, and where I stood was as close as I could get. I stayed calm, level; though my eyes showed my worry and stress. "Sidney... come on, it's just me." His eyes darted away, and then for the first time since it started, he focused on me. "Sidney? Hey...? You okay?" I couldn't stop crying. I wasn't even sure why. I just couldn't stop. I shook my head over and over, and upon realizing I was lucid, Kris hurried over and put his arms around me. What the hell was that?! I'd blacked out before. Any moments of high stress tended to escape my memory, like the night Kris had to hold me down. But this felt... different... It took an hour for me to calm down. I wasn't sure why, either. Thing about crying is, when you realize you're doing it, it's pretty easy to stop. But not this. It went on and on. I sat quietly, my knees to my chest. I was smart enough to take my hands off my pants. That anxiety didn't come back yet, though. I felt so... terrible... just terrible. "I just wanted to make you feel good. You're entire life is based around being touched being a bad thing... I wanted to give you a positive experience to help balance it." He wasn't talking, though, and I wasn't sure if it was that he wasn't talking to me or if he was just too worn out to talk anymore. I didn't know. I wouldn't know, not until he spoke or didn't. I smiled, though, and sat with my around around him; the boy half in my lap. I felt broken. Like something in me snapped, just like it did when I was little. Like another thing had broken that hadn't broken before. I couldn't put my finger on it, though. I kept my head on Kris' shoulder and did my best to talk. I didn't talk, though. Maybe I didn't know what to say. Or maybe it was like that state when you're so tired and you think you talk and you actually don't talk. Or maybe I just couldn't talk... “You’ll make it through this." I didn't really know how, yet. But I knew that he'd made it through everything in his life so far, and having me here could only help share that burden. My hand continued to play through his hair and my other pressed to his cheek, holding him against my shoulder tenderly. My thumb - on the clean hand - brushed against his lips idly; the surface of such were chipped and cracked from his crying fit. I sat there for what seemed like an eternity. I wasn't sure when, exactly, but Kris helped me up off the ground and led me over to the bed. I winced as I sat down. I felt so uneasy. I felt scared again. Kris tried to reassure me, though, and I put my head down on the pillow, facing away from the candles and at the boy beside me. I gave him a little smile. It was too quiet. It had been a mistake, but it was a mistake I could learn from. So I was glad that I knew, I just wish I hadn't caused him such pain. "You didn't try to hurt yourself this time. I think knowing that might help you." It was a relief to me, too - I'd been ready to keep his arms at bay, but thankfully it hadn't happened. It was quiet for a moment more - our eyes fixed on one another. And when I spoke, it was a whisper. "...I think I'm falling for you, Sidney. And I'm scared. Not scared of being with you... scared you won't let me." I nodded my head. It seemed I couldn't talk. Would that last? No. It couldn't. It was Kris. But with all the stress the past two days, maybe... it's better. I closed my eyes and took a little breath, opening them again and nodded my head once more. He wouldn't understand. But he should know. I wasn't going to let him. All I offered him in return was a smile - I wasn't as good at conveying myself wordlessly as he was - but I wanted him to know that I wouldn't give up. "Do you think you're bad for me?" Those words were spoken with my eyes on him, my arms draped over his body, our breaths collectively exhaling into the same space. I nodded my head, but Kris didn't waver, like he'd expected it. He probably did, too. I wished he'd just understand. But then he asked, "Do you think I'm bad for you?" And I didn't have a response. I bit my lip and looked down, away from his eyes. It was always so difficult to hold his stare. I decided, in the end, to shrug my shoulders. "Do you like yourself more when we're together?" It was a much more ambiguous question than the last; it could be taken a great many different ways; but I knew he'd understand the point I was trying to get across. If he didn't think I was bad for him, and he liked who he was with me around - it would be clear that the only reason he'd not want to be with me would be that he felt like he was bad for me. And I could work on that. Again, I shrugged my shoulders. I liked having someone to talk to, but then again, that didn't really make me like myself more. Truthfully, I wasn't any different. If anything, I might like myself less just because I was more aware of my 'quirks'. I didn't know. It was too confusing. All of this was. He was. Why did he have to be so confusing? My hand found his cheek and I directed his gaze to mine, smiling that cheeky smile at the edges of my lips that I flashed to him and only him. "It's the black eye. Isn't it? It's that I get in fights to protect you. It's because you think it's unfair... because I have no quirks at all, and you have so many." Statement. Not question. Assessment, determination. Conclusion. All in one. I nodded. Granted, that wasn't all 'it' was, but it was definitely part of 'it'. He gave up more than I did. He changed more than I did. He surrendered more than I did. That bothered me, for sure. And like I'd already established - I barely changed at all. And then I thought of something. I didn't think I'd be able to say it, but the words tumbled out anyway, smaller and weaker than ever before. I'd made up my mind. My voice was still rough, still uneven, still quiet. "You changed so much for me. Major things. Big things. I'm still me. Same me. And I don't like it. So... when I get over my cleaning stuff, we can date. When I show you that I can change too. For us." And until then, we'd wait. I could wait. I thought about the goal... about trying to overcome something he'd been a slave to for all his life. I didn't have confidence, but I did have hope. And maybe that was something. "Tell me that's the only requirement. That when we meet that, there won't be another after that. Admit to me that you like boys.” I frowned. I didn't like this game. We both knew I wouldn't get over my cleanliness. If I could have, I would of years ago. I wouldn't have let it ruin so much of me. I wouldn't have let it give me anxiety problems. I wouldn't have let it hurt me the way it had. But if it ever went away, just that one problem, and made things easier... then yeah. I'd date him. “If I ever stop obsessing over having things clean, I'll date a boy." I really didn't know what was going to happen from here... how I could help him with his prison. How I could free him. I was sure it wasn't something curable, in fact. But I'd try. "Good." ------------- Thank you for reading. Like & Comment! Consider supporting us on Patreon!

I would like to have a crib or toddler-style bed (I'd go with a rocket instead of a race car ?, but the car looks awesome). However, it's just not practical at this point in my life. I move too often and the apartments I live in are too small. Such is life at my age. One thing I have found is that getting fun baby/toddler blankets and bedding is one way you can make a big-kid bed look and feel more little. When I decide I'm gonna live in a place for an extended period of time, then I'll definitely get a rocket-shaped crib or bed. It's a good thing that bear is diapered! Whinnie the Poo looks like the kinda bear who'd wet the bed and try to blame it on you ?

Great update!

Lily parked the stroller and gave Kayla a baby toy to play with and stayed talking with her friends. Lily and Linda looked over at Kayla and giggled, then continued talking.

Well that's easy, spending time with my Daddy ? whether it's cuddle time, diaper changes, story time, bath time or whatever else. Really it's just having the unconditional love of my boyfriend and Daddy and being together with Him.

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

My first outward act that could be indicative of my ABDL proclivities was in the 7th or 8th grade when I was walking home from a nighttime band marching practice and messed my underwear, intentionally. I don't remember ever desiring to wear diapers during that time or even earlier but deliberately messing my underwear has got to be a sign of what was to come in adulthood.

Chapter 85 As he often did, Jamie woke first, rolling over and closing the gap between himself and Amanda. He reached down to feel his diaper. Wet, as usual. He didn’t especially mind being a bedwetter. How he became one made even less sense to him than how’d he lost so much daytime control, but he slept well. He slept better in Itali than he ever had before his departure. He put a hand on Manda and sighed. He didn’t make a good big spoon for her. Manda sighed, too, and opened her eyes, facing another day. She stretched and sighed again before bringing a hand to her face and rubbing her eyes. “Morning,” she said. “Hope I didn’t wake you.” “Think we’re on about the same sleep schedule. You sleep okay?” “Yeah.” “Still like this better than your crib?” He had come to like having his own space, and the bars he resented so much at first had turned from a cage into his nest. He liked sleeping with his bigs, too, though. “I like both.” “You can always sleep in your playpen if you want your own space some nights,” she said. “Maybe sometimes.” Manda scooted herself forward and then rolled toward Jamie, always mindful not to roll over him. You’re not really supposed to sleep with your little for that very reason, but Jamie being unregressed, there was less risk of hurting him that way. He”d wake up and move himself or at least shout out. In four years, she’d never rolled all the way over him. Maybe over his arm, and he’d just wake up with it asleep. It never dissuaded him from sleeping in her bed again. She reached her hand up to brush his hair down. His hair always stood up in every direction in the morning. It stayed down just fine after being washed and combed but always looked in the morning like it had spent the night desperately trying to escape his head. “You have the worst bed head,” she reminded him. “I have lots of good qualities, too.” “Ha. Yeah ya do. Ready to get up?” “Mhmm.” She started to get up, sliding her legs off the bed and stretching her arms above her head. Jamie propped himself up on one elbow, ready to follow her off the bed when she turned suddenly and put both arms under him, lifting him up and giving him tummy kisses. “Gonna be a good day, Jamie Bear,” she said as she swung him over the edge and set him on his feet with a swat to the back of his jammie shorts. He felt more alert now and smiled at her as she stood. “Wanna try going potty?” “I don’t think I have to.” She reached down and felt his diaper. “Feels like you went pretty recently.” “I was asleep still.” He said it to assure himself and her he hadn’t had a daytime accident. “Then why not keep that on until after breakfast.” She went to the bathroom and he went to the living room and waited. She came back out and got a box of cereal down from the cabinet. “Mel’s coming over around lunch time,” she said as she poured two bowls. “You said. Are we going anywhere?” “Not today. We’re just hanging out today close to the potty.” “I was right,” he said as he pulled himself onto the couch. Manda handed him his bowl and sat down next to him. “About what?” “We do see her less.” Manda frowned and put her hand on his head, pulling him toward her as she leaned over to kiss his hair. “I know. But we still get to have fun with her. The three of us can play with some of your new toys or go hang out by the ... well, no pool today.” “Too far from the potty.” “Yeah ... but we can spread our towels out by the patio. Get a little sun at least.” He finished his cereal first and drank the milk from his bowl. He stretched and yawned again. “Do you need to go back to bed for a bit?” “Just feeling very relaxed. Getting myself in the right frame of mind to have a lazy day at home.” She finished her cereal. She didn’t like milk on its own very much and less so after cereal had been dissolving in it, but Jamie did. He handed him her bowl. It took more than a couple swallows and some ran down his face and onto his chest. “Bath time,” she said. He followed her to the bathroom by way of the kitchen. As big as the place was compared to him, it still felt like an apartment, with everything so close together. He’d never lived in a house other than Becky’s as an adult and was starting to appreciate the space in a way he hadn’t. He’d gotten used to not living his life on one floor and not being able to see every room of the house from the hallway. “I’m gonna put you down for a nap this morning if you need it,” she said when he sighed and stretched again. She knew the hot bath would only make him sleepier. She pulled his shorts down, and he laid on the rug. She used to take his diaper off in the bathroom with him standing, but she’d stopped doing that years ago, never perfectly confident what she’d find. With that familiar ripping sound and the tugs at his hips, Jamie felt her pull down the diaper and expose him to the air. He did like that feeling. He drew his knees up and open to get the air everywhere. “Totally clean this morning,” she said. She pinched his butt and he jumped. He lifted his hips, she drew the diaper out, and she handed it to him. “Why don’t you see if you can use the potty while the water runs?” He threw the diaper away in the pail under the second vanity, an odd feature for a one-bedroom apartment, and sat down on his potty. Amanda turned the tap on and let the water warm before stopping the tub. “And we don’t wanna forget these,” she said as she reached into the cabinet under the sink and took out his new bath toys in their bag of plastic netting. “Why’d you pick boats?” He liked his animals at the other house so much. “I was in a boat kind of mood.” He was trying to concentrate. Even if she was right and he had used his diaper around and even on her for four years, this was different. It just was. Maybe she did watch him use his diaper sometimes when she recognized his body language, but that was different than being in the same room as he tried to use the potty. It was the difference between someone hearing him sing in the shower and watching him sing on stage, not that he did either of those. But one was getting coincidentally caught in the act, and the other was like the most uncomfortable performance ever. “Could I be alone for a few minutes,” he asked. “Yeah,” she said, turning off the water. “Call me when you’re ready.” She closed the door behind him and went back to the kitchen to wash their breakfast bowls. She decided to make a pitcher of tea when she was done. She’d set it on their patio in the sun, the way Jamie had showed them soon after he arrived. What a novel invention cold tea was for them. “Manda?!” “Coming!” She left the pitcher on the counter and returned to the bathroom. Jamie was still seated. “Way to go,” she said as she stood over him. “Did you go peepee too?” “Yeah,” he said, “when I ... you know. I wasn’t sure if I should stand up or not, so I ...” “Definitely stay seated,” she said with a laugh. He rarely went that way in the morning, but apparently he could if he put some effort into it. She got a tub of wipes from under the sink. She looked at him for a second and thought how much easier it was to do this with him flat on his back. “Lean forward.” He did, and she knelt down next to him and wiped him clean. She hadn’t thought through this so well; there was no diaper to deposit the wipes into. She didn’t just want to drop them in the pail. She leaned over to the pail, opened it, and got his night diaper back out. She put them in there. “Now you can stand.” He did, and she wiped his penis first. “And bend over just to be safe.” He did, feeling a little embarrassed to be in that position even if it was just another take on lying with his feet in the air, and she made one more pass at his butt. That left the potty to clean. Jamie was grossed out by it when he turned around. He opted to look elsewhere. Flushing it down a toilet or having it in the back of a diaper seemed less gross. He knew that wasn’t entirely logical, but that’s how he felt. Amanda felt the same way but didn’t say anything about it. She didn’t want him to know she felt anything but pride, though emptying the thing was worse to her than changing a poopy diaper. You don’t have to tap a poopy diaper against the toilet rim and hope what falls out doesn’t splash. She wiped the potty out and put it back in the chair, throwing the last wipe into the night diaper and putting it back in the pail after rolling it up. “We need to get you some flushable wipes.” “Toilet paper would work, too.” “Oh ... yeah.” Even though they’d talked about toilet paper the day before, the idea of wiping his bottom with toilet paper seemed off somehow. She’d known for years that you wipe a little’s bottom with wet wipes. She’d just have to unlearn that. “Is that, um, all,” he asked. “What do you mean?” “It’s ... nothing.” She hadn’t thought of it, but now that he had asked, she asked him, “Would you like a sticker chart or some little prizes to earn? We can do that; no need to be embarrassed by that.” She misunderstood him entirely. He hadn’t given a single thought to a sticker chart. “No, I mean ... I just pooped in that thing. It seems ... unsanitary just sitting there.” She felt rather the same way, and she knew Jamie was a bit of a germaphobe. Toilets get flushed; diapers get rolled up and thrown in a special pail with a lid. That thing got wiped out and was just there now, without even a lid. “I’m gonna bleach it after your bath ... unless you’d rather do that first?” “Could you please?” “Yeah.” She moved back to the sink as he stepped out of the way. She got a bottle of bleach from underneath and poured some into the potty. “I’ll rinse it after your bath. Is that okay?” “Yeah. Thanks.” She stood and washed her hands well before turning back to him. “In ya go,” she said as she lifted him over the side of the tub. She felt the water and turned the faucet back on to warm it up more. Jamie was surprised at himself. He hadn’t had to look at or deal with his own waste in four years; pooping in what was essentially a bowl was off putting. He wasn’t sure he wanted to keep doing that, but perhaps he’d grow used to it. “So, Manda,” he said after she’d turned the water off, “when I’m back to being potty trained, is there a way I could use the actual toilet, or will it always be a potty chair?” “We can get a seat attachment when you’re ready, and a little step stool, too. They make those for toddlers. I just wanted to start with this first.” It was less expensive, though she didn’t want to tell him that reasoning. It implied she didn’t want to spend money on something they might not be needing if this proved impossible or if he didn’t want to do it. She didn’t see any reason why it would be impossible, but since money was limited and this was something she couldn’t let Becky buy for her, she went with the cheaper choice. She took the soap and washcloth from their places and started to lather them. “Gimme a foot,” she said. He did and inspected his boats. Two of the three floated proudly, riding the waves. The third, designed to look like a container ship, had taken on water and was listing to port. “This one was made by non-union shipbuilders,” he told her. “The captain is probably inside looking at the commutator and trying not to panic.” “What should he do,” Amanda asked as she reached under the water for his other leg. “Dump some cargo to right the ship, but he’s not gonna yet.” “Why not?” “The shipping line would lose a lot of money, and their insurance premiums would go up.” Amanda chuckled with her belly as she turned her soapy attention to other parts. “You play the silliest games. What’s he gonna do instead?” “He’ll try counter flooding to take on more ballast. Could work, but she’s already riding pretty low in the water. If they get water on the bottom of the orlop deck, they could lose power. They have a second power system to run the pumps, but they’re not as powerful, and being dead in the water is more dangerous. But it could give them enough time to make the repairs.” “You can fix a hole in a boat at sea?” “Oh sure,” he said while she scrubbed his chest. “But this ship took on a lot of water really fast. I think they’ll need to abandon ship. But if they can right her and pump out enough water first, they could maybe stabilize her, and a repair ship can get her secure enough so she can get towed to a port.” “What’s on the boat,” she asked as he leaned forward so she could get his back. “Various consumer packaged goods, televisions, and some bulk grain in the forward hold. Plus twenty-eight souls.” Amanda rolled her eyes as she chuckled again. “O, where did you really come from,” she asked. “Whole different type of human.” “I felt that way before I left sometimes.” “Sweet little soul that you are. I think we’ll keep you forever. Call off that other plan.” “What plan?” “To sell you to a traveling circus.” “I’m not a big fan of clowns anyway. I had a bad experience with a clown once.” “What happened?” “He forgot his nose.” “Is that all? That’s not so bad.” “No, I mean his prosthetic nose,” Jamie explained as he pinched his own nose and pulled his hand away. Amanda stopped washing and started laughing, not loud but audibly, her body rocking and her eyes closed tight, a little wet around the edges. “You ... is that a true story?” Jamie was laughing now, too, because her reaction was so funny. “No, but wouldn’t it be funnier if it was?” Amanda wiped her eyes. “We gotta take you to an open mic or something. You have such good timing. Stand up for me?” He did and she washed his diaper area thoroughly. She wanted to reach out and give his shiny, wet butt a spank, it was so cute, but she resisted the temptation. He sat back down. “Time for your hair,” she said as she took a pitcher from the corner of the tub’s rim. “Rough seas are the last thing that ship needs,” he said as he gave it a tap to send it toward the faucet.

Chapter 84 Amanda picked up Jamie after his afternoon nap time and took him back to their apartment. She was excited for him, perhaps especially so because she’d psyched him up for three whole days to encourage him. He was enthusiastic, though perhaps not as much as she was. Once inside, still on her hip, they looked at one another for a moment, trying to read the other’s thought. “Four days seems like a long time all of a sudden,” Jamie said. He felt bad for Becky. To give them an entire day to work on potty training, Amanda had told her they had plans with Mel the next day. He wondered what Becky would do all day and with two nights on her own. He figured with school starting soon, it would get easier for her. School also meant daycare; he hadn’t given potty training and daycare much thought. “It’ll seem like it went by fast when it’s over,” Amanda said as she set him down on the kitchen chair they’d gotten him. She put away his milk and the leftovers Becky had insisted she take with her. “So what’s the plan, exactly,” Jamie asked. “Well, I think we play it by ear a little bit at first. I’m thinking you go to the potty whenever you need to, and I’ll remind you. We can always have you sit on the potty for five minutes every half hour or hour, but I think we can see if that’s necessary first.” “I’m not sure that would help anyway. Not really sure what skill that teaches. When are we gonna start?” “How about right now?” Theory and reality changed places, and Jamie felt anxious. So silly, he thought, that this seemed like a big step. He could do this, certainly. But he was still anxious. “Okay,” he said. Manda held out her hand, and Jamie took it. She turned, and he hopped down from his chair and followed her to the bathroom. “Be right back,” she said. She went into the hall closet right next to the bathroom and was back in a minute with the box she’d shown Mel. He peered around her as she squatted down to open it. She folded the flaps back with fanfare, singing out, “Da-da-da-DAH!” Looking at the thing, Jamie smiled a little, not because of what it was but because she’d put some thought into it. “Dinosaurs,” he said, looking at the decals on the outside. “One of your favorites.” She tilted it toward him. “There’s even one right in the middle for you to aim at.” “I have great aim already,” he assured her. “I’ve hit the inside of the diaper almost every time.” “Very true. Anyway, for the time being, I think you should stick to sitting. But later, aim for the Pottysaurus.” She set it down opposite the toilet. “We’ll leave it out all day so it’s ready when you need it. And,” she said as she reached back into the box, “pull-ups. They’re made for toddlers but they should fit you. These are the smallest size.” Also with dinosaurs on them. He thought for a moment that he needed to pick a new favorite design for things; he was getting so predictable. “Do the dinosaurs disappear when they get wet?” “They do. Do you think you could pee now if you tried?” “Maybe. I mean, I think so.” He didn’t see why not. At least a little bit. Manda motioned for him to step toward her, and she reached out to undo his shorts and slide them down. He stepped out of them; she folded them and reached up to set them on the vanity. She untaped his diaper, and he bowed his legs a little to let her pull it out from between them. “Almost dry,” she set as she felt the weight of it. “Not bad. You’ve been awake for over an hour.” Jamie blushed at the compliment, and not just because he usually blushed at compliments. They both looked at the training potty. Jamie’s seeming hesitancy had Manda wondering if she needed to further explain how it worked, but first she said, “Whenever you’re ready.” Feeling awkward to be watched, he first stood over it and then lowered himself onto it. Haven’t felt this in a long time, he thought to himself. He noticed the splash guard; at least he didn’t need that. Amanda folded her legs under herself and leaned back against the wall. “I don’t think you need to watch,” he suggested. “I know. I just wanna go over a couple more things.” “Okay ... just feels a little strange to be watched.” Amanda looked at him a little incredulously. “Need I remind you that you’ve pooped while sitting on me without taking your eyes off the book we’re reading? And leaked on me?” An accepted risk of having a little - sometimes you get peed on; sometimes worse. “No,” he said red faced and a little defensively, “but you weren’t, ya know, watching me.” “Buddy, we watch sometimes ,” she broke the news to him. “It’s why you get changed so fast. Pretty unmistakable body language.” “Oh,” he said. He’d not given much though to it. “So two rules. First, don’t try to empty the bowl yourself. Just let me know when you’re done; I don’t think either of us want that kind of mess with you trying to reach that high over the toilet rim.” Jamie pictured the potential catastrophe that might lead to and the scrubbing he’d need to ever feel clean again. “Agreed,” he deadpanned. “Second, I’ll handle wiping at first.” “I think I can manage that.” “I know you probably can, but let’s keep it simple. We can get some wipes closer to your size this weekend.” Jamie noticed the size of a single sheet of toilet paper for the first time; it did seem a little unwieldy. “Okay.” “Feel anything yet?” “Not yet.” He was trying to go. Perhaps he just didn’t need to, but then it certainly seemed, as he’d focused on it the past few days, that he peed very frequently. “Wanna keep sitting?” “Um, for a few more minutes I guess.” Amanda nodded. “There’s one more thing I wanted to say, and this is super important: it’s okay to have accidents. Understand?” Jamie nodded solemnly. “I won’t get mad, and you shouldn’t either. It’s just part of the process. If you have one, ya gotta let me know right away. The pull-ups aren’t diapers, and I don’t want you to get used to them feeing wet. We’re gonna change them right away.” “Okay,” Jamie interjected. “And I want us to make a commitment to each other. If we get frustrated, we talk it out. Okay, buddy?” “I promise I will.” “And last, if you wanna take a break from it, that’s okay. Don’t be shy about saying so. We don’t have to get it all done this weekend.” She watched his face after she said it, and he seemed distracted. Then she recognized his expression. That’s his potty face, she exclaimed so happily inside. A moment later, they were greeted by the sound of urine hitting plastic. Jamie tired to suppress a smile. It seemed silly to feel delighted at something he had done a million times before, and anyway, he’d been sitting there for four or five minutes. He wasn’t sure how much credit he deserved for it. He’d been trying to pee, but maybe his body has done it on its own. Still, Manda saw his smile. From where she was sitting, Manda was deciding whether to do what all the books and advice forums suggest and make a big deal out of it. She wanted to, but she didn’t want to embarrass him. His inability to hide his smile helped her decide, and she sang out, “Yay, Jamie! Way to go!” It made Jamie break his barely-there stoicism and laugh. She held her hand out, and Jamie gave her a high five. “Ya done,” she asked brightly. “I think so.” “Stand up,” she told him. She tore a square of toilet paper off. He felt oddly exposed standing there like that. It felt more natural after all those years to be flat on his back for this. Amanda wrapped the toilet paper around his penis and gave it a squeeze. More than a drop of urine came out but was absorbed by the paper. “I guess I wasn’t all the way empty,” he said with embarrassment. “That’s okay.” “Guys don’t really wipe after,” he said. “Well, you do. At least until you’re sure you’re totally empty.” She nodded her head just barely toward the door, and Jamie stepped out of her way. He watched as she lifted the toilet lid and threw the paper away, then removed the bowl from the potty and poured away his urine. It wasn’t much. “You wanna flush,” she asked. “Little mini celebration?” “Ha! Sure.” The button was on top of the tank. She lifted him under the arms so he could reach it. “Ta-da!” “What a good job!” She gave him a kiss as she set him down. “Now, your new undies.” Getting on to her knees, she opened the package, removed a pull-up, and opened it for him. Just like when he was putting on shorts, he put his hands on her shoulders for balance as he stepped into the garment. She pulled it up his legs, letting the elastic snap back against his waist. She rubbed the front and gave it a pat. “So handsome. How do they feel?” Jamie’s question exactly as he took note of the different sensations he was feeling. It was definitely thinner than a diaper, but it also felt more stiff. The waistband hugged his tummy and thighs so well but was so soft, too. He liked that feeling a lot. He felt he could run and jumps and play in any direction and the pullup would still fit perfectly. His diapers didn’t fit so great after he was on the move for a while. He noticed as well the trim on the garment around the leg holes, just a little extra material. It didn’t bother him, but his diapers didn’t have that. “Different,” he pronounced. She took his shorts off the vanity. “No need for these. Don’t want anything extra between you and the potty. Just go to the potty whenever you feel you even might have to; better safe than sorry. You don’t need to ask permission.” “What if you’re in here?” She stood and picked the bowl up again, putting it under the bath tub faucet for a rinse and then putting it back into the potty. “How about we slide this over here,” she said as she pushed it toward the door. “If I’m in here, just come use it.” “You’re comfortable with that?” He’d seen her naked; he hadn’t seen her on the toilet. “We’ll just pretend it’s not happening.” “Deal.” “Remember, if you even think you need to go...” “I’ll go straight to the potty.” “No waiting. I’ll remind you every once in a while, too. Also, if you have an accident ...” “I’ll tell you right away.” “Good. I know you may not realize sometimes if you had an accident, so I’ll check you once in a while.” “Okay.” “Let’s wash our hands.” She lifted him onto the vanity, and as she usually did, she soaped her own hands and then rubbed his between them, running water over them at the same time. She dried his hands for him and then her own. “What now,” he asked when she’d helped him down. “I’ll get dinner started. You can hang with me or go read a book or watch TV. Whatever.” This was it, then. Just like his other house. There was nothing special about being there; it wasn’t moving day or his first night or hers. It was just another night in their home. “I think I’ll read,” he said. “Suit yourself.” She headed for the kitchen, and he headed to the living room to get the book he’d packed in his overnight bag. At least she wasn’t straight out of secondary school. She knew how to cook and knew more than a few recipes. Many of them were things she learned from Becky. Becky didn’t write things down, so there were no recipe cards to pass on. She’d simply had Amanda help in the kitchen, and Amanda had watched and learned. She was good at weeknight meals and half hour dinners. Amanda had stuffed herself with all the produce Becky had bought her to keep it from going bad - she never had figured out exactly how long produce kept - and decided to get some poultry out of the fridge. It had to either be cooked or frozen that night. She put a skillet on the stove, added a little oil, and tossed a sprinkling of chili flakes in. Looking through the space between the cabinets and counter, she saw Jamie on his rug in his play area. “Comfortable,” she asked. She doubted it. She could read on her belly like that as a kid, but now it was too much of a strain on her back and neck. “The rug feels good,” he said back. She got an onion and a pepper from the fridge and started to cut a piece of each into thin strips. “What if we got you a pillow, ya know the kind with arms you can lean against? Or the kind that folds out like a mini-bed?” “That would be better.” He put his book down and walked quickly but nonchalantly to the bathroom. She watched him shuffle past the kitchen as she set the aromatics aside and opened the package of chicken. On a cutting board, she sliced the breast into strips like the onion and pepper. It didn’t seem like much dinner, and after washing her hands, she wondered what else she could add to the skillet. She picked carrots from the fridge and nuts from the cabinet. There was soy sauce In the spice cabinet along with ground ginger. She sprinkled some of the ginger into the skillet as she called out, “How’s it going in there?” He was back in the doorway of the kitchen just as she finished saying it. “False alarm,” he reported. He walked behind her and got into his chair. “You’re cooking up a storm in here.” “Nothing too fancy.” She took a packet of microwaveable rice from the cabinet, tore it open, and nuked it for ninety seconds. She held a hand over the skillet to test the heat. “Hot enough to cook quick but not burn,” she said out loud for no reason. She slid the chicken in, pivoted to put the cutting board in the sink and wash her hands, took a spatula from the crock, and pivoted back to flip the chicken. Jamie was impressed with her timing. She added the other ingredients and a slash of the soy sauce, let it sizzle for just a moment, and took it off the burner. The residual heat would soften the vegetables the rest of the way. “That smells great,” Jamie remarked. “It’s pretty, too. When I left, people were always taking pictures of their food to post on the internet.” “Why,” Amanda asked as she got the rice out. “Bragging, I guess. Or wanting attention. Maybe to not feel so lonely ... I never really got into social media, so I probably didn’t understand it.” She took two bowls down, her own and his smaller one. She added some of the steaming rice first, then took out a spoon to ladle on the stir fry. It was easier in a pan with more angles sides. She’d ask for one for her birthday. “Meet me at the table,” she asked. She handed him the bowls after he got down. He went to the coffee table, and she followed with his chair. She needed another trip to get water glasses and silverware. “Better fit,” she asked as she watched him scoot his chair closer to the end of the table. “Yeah. You?” “Much. How is it,” she asked as she took a bite. “Good ... flavorful.” He took a drink. “Too spicy?” “Spicy, but not too spicy. You like it?” “A little less chili flakes next time,” she replied. “I burned every stir fry I ever tried to make,” Jamie told her. “How many was that?” His eyes turned up and to the left searching for a likely number. “Maybe four? I gave up trying. Rice bowls were more my thing. Put it on a tortilla, eat it in a bowl, on lettuce .... And sandwiches. I never wanted a dinner with an entree and sides. I just wanted sandwiches most of the time.” “Sounds like you eat better here.” “Definitely. Better quality and healthier. Diet would’ve caught up with me eventually.” Amanda did the dishes and once more watched as Jamie speed walked from the living room to the bathroom. She was about to call out to him when he came around the corner with his head a little down and his ears red. Manda couldn’t quite tell from her vantage, but she figured a least one of the dinosaurs on his pullup has gone extinct. She turned off the faucet and dried her hands. “I didn’t make it,” he said softly. “That’s okay,” she said as she bent down and felt the front of his pullup. “Did you really feel the need to go, or were you just trying?” “I felt it.” It was a weak urge, which seemed like a wake up call of sorts that this would be harder than perhaps he had realized. The urge felt weak, but he hadn’t been to able hold it for less than a minute. It struck him, too, that he wasn’t sure if he felt himself peeing by the time he got to the potty or just felt his pullup getting warm. It was just hard to tell. He reminded himself it was a process. Knowing his tendency to get inside his own head, he figured he’d be reminding himself of that a lot. “Well there ya go! You felt the need to go. That’s progress.” “I didn’t feel it that much. I got up as soon as I did ...” Manda cut him off, “Hey, you don’t don’t need to justify it. This is going to happen, especially at first. It’s okay.” She picked him up into a hug and carried him into their room, rubbing his back and setting him on the changing table. She returned in a moment with the bag of pullups from the bathroom. “Lay back for me.” She tore the sides of the pullup and unfolded it. She pulled it from under him and got a wipe out. She paused just before touching him. “Do you wanna go try again, see if there’s more?” “Pretty sure there’s not right now.” “Okay,” she said as she wiped him off. He lifted his hips for her to slide a new pullup in place. She tossed the wipe in the used pullup, rolled it up, helped Jamie down, and handed it to him. “Mind throwing that in the diaper pail?” He went to do that, and she went back to the kitchen. He joined her. “Sorry,” he said. She turned the faucet off. “No. No no no no no no no no,” she said. “No apologizing. It’s not your fault, and there’s nothing to be sorry for. Got it?” She gave him a serious look. He shook his head yes and smiled weakly. She wasn’t going let him feel bad over accidents. Getting frustrated might happen, but she wouldn’t let him get sad or angry or guilty with himself, and definitely not with her. She turned the water back on. “Why don’t you go read some more, and I’ll come check on you in a bit,” she suggested. “We can try the potty again a couple times before bed, but don’t wait for me if you need to go.” “I know,” he said. “Thanks,” he added before walking away. He meant it, too. As he took up his book, he wondered if it would be better to sit on the potty for a few minutes every half hour, at least at first. He could sit there and try, and that might keep his pull-ups dry. He didn’t see how that would help his training, though. Sitting there until his bladder opened didn’t seem like taking back control; it seemed like waiting for the inevitable. That wouldn’t help him practice holding it long enough to hold it from when he recognized the urge until he got to the potty. Still, he thought Amanda reminding him to go and taking him every so often would help. Trying at least two more times before bed was a good idea. Then it would be back into a nighttime diaper until morning.

Humbled, Jessica leaned back in the seat and tried to hide, but did nothing to fit. The seat kept moving forward. Others passed by, giggling at the grown woman being pushed in a stroller.The school came into view and got nearer. They got closer to it, but at the last minute, turned away. Jessica stared longingly at the school she once saw as an insult to be in and now saw as outside her reach. She looked forward toward her future, in the nursery. Words she had heard repeated over and over came back to her. She went inside, and the staffed gushed over her. They didn't talk to her, just made cooing noises and talked to Marianne and the doctor. Jessica ignored them, she really didn't want to know what they were saying about her."Come on little one!" the nurse said. She reached down and helped Jessica out of the stroller.They took her to a changing table, lifted her up and lay her down. They removed the diaper she was wearing, though it was still clean. Jessica closed her eyes and tried not to cry. Her legs were lifted up brought back down onto a much thicker pad. At any other level she'd have been asked to lift her legs herself, but now even that courtesy wasn't extended. and she felt it lifted up and taped snugly onto her. She looked down at something she wished she never had to see. While the other diapers had four tapes, these only had one large tape per each, as she wasn't expected to walk much. It had wide baby blue stripes on each side, and the middle was covered with cartoon animals, each wearing full print diapers themselves. The padding, aside from being thicker then the last, was far more awkward, and forced her legs apart and up in an odd cradled position. Memories came back to her of the warning she had so often received- once you were put back in full baby diapers, you almost never came out. She pulled long yellow striped stockings up to her knees and stood her up. The nurse lifted her arms up and pulled a bright yellow t shirt decorated with cartoon characters she didn't recognize over her head. She looked questioningly at it."Oh, don't worry sweetie. I know they were showing you big girl cartoons before, you'll know those ones soon enough," she said as she tied a bonnet under Jessica's chin, matching the shirt both in its bright color and infantile design. While before she had her hair tied in pigtails- bad enough on their own- now her hair was cut shorter and pulled under a baby's bonnet. She was told they could grow it out longer later, but her re-introduction to the nursery required her losing her 'big girl' pigtails. She growled at the ridiculousness of it all. It seemed every time she got used to one level of humiliating initialization, they found another, lower level to bring her down too. Now she wasn't even allowed the curtesy of having her diaper covered, and was left in just the bonnet, shirt, socks, and diaper. She had once been told that 'babies in the nursery had them uncovered because they needed constant diaper checks.' That was long before she ever imagined she'd end up in the same position."There is a good baby! What a cute little baby you are!" the nurse said. Though she was younger then Jessica, according to the rules of this land, Jessica really was just a baby. "Oh, almost forgot." She grabbed Jessica's shoulders and turned her around. She forced her to bend over, pulled down her diaper, and inserted something into her from behind. Jessica yelped and stood back up. The nurse pulled her diaper back to her waist. The nurse padded Jessica's behind. "Just a little medical suppository to help you stay healthy, since we can't give you regular vitamins here. It be too tough for you to chew or swallow them."Jessica nodded, though she new her agreement, or even understanding, wasn't needed."They might upset your stomach, but that's ok. That's what those thick pampers are for!" the nurse giggled.She sat Jessica on the ground and tickled her under the chin. "Now, we have to get ready for the other babies, so you be a good sweetie and sit here and play, ok?"She handed Jessica a plastic box with holes, each a different shape, on the sides. She then handed her a pile of blocks that matched the hole's shapes. "Here, why don't you play with this? See if you can be a smart little baby!"Jessica glared at the infantile toy. It was an insultingly simple puzzle. She picked up one of the blocks, slammed it on the box, and threw it away. She folded her arms and sat in a huff."Oh, thats ok sweetie. Don't pout! This is one of the tougher ones for the smart babies, we'll see if we can get you something simpler!" the nurse said. She looked at another, younger nurse, who scribbled something on a pad of paper. A few minutes later another nurse came by and picked Jessica up off the ground and set her on her feet and held her tight as she walked. Jessica hated how the now ridiculously thick diapers made her waddle, and hated even more how they acted as if they needed to hold her up.Jessica stumbled. The wide stanced waddle felt awkward and was hard to keep up. The nurse, however, didn't seem to acknowledge this. Once again she looked at another nurse who scribbled something down. She patted Jessica's bottom. "That's ok sweetie. I know staying up can be hard, even with someone holding you up. We'll see if we can get you a walker." Jessica knew better then to argue.She was led, wearing only her shirt, diaper, bonnet and socks, toward the window. Jessica shook her head and tried to pull back, but the nurse kept going.The nurse smacked her bottom hard. "Stop being a fussy baby! Just because your a full baby now doesn't mean we can't spank you, and we have extra paddles for the bigger Never Grow Olds like you." She pushed a pacifier into Jessica's mouth, and Jessica gave up fighting, knowing there was no chance. She lifted her and sat her in a rocker facing outside, then buckled her in. It was a big, blue, soft seat that managed to envelope her entire body, crunched up as she was, and the straps left little room to escape. All her wiggling achieved was to make it bounce and play silly music. Plastic toys hung over her head and rotated slowly. Lower down, the plastic under the soft cloth cover crinkled, waiting to protect the chair from her expected wettings. "Now you sit tight until its play time, ok? We need to take care of more babies coming in."Jessica looked desperately after her. Where she sat she'd be fully exposed to anyone walking by, including the entire school as they went in for the day. Dressed as she was, in her full baby diapers and nursery outfit, would make her unquestionably lower then anyone there. Worse still, the suppository was beginning to do its job, and she felt her stomach rumble."Is that really her?" one of the other nurses giggled."Yes, really. Watch."Jessica could see the reflection in the window. They were crowded around a phone. Jessica knew what they were watching, even before her own voice confirmed it."Yes... Cynthia Michael," she heard herself say. She had seen the video a few times, it had gone viral under the title "Toddler Level Applies for Job," with her actions accompanied by mocking, silly music. At least most of the comments decided she was cute.People began to pass by, and the yard began to fill up. People stopped and gawked at the grown woman in a baby's clothes, tied helplessly in a rocker. Jessica tried not to look at them, or at her own, humiliating reflection in the glare of the window. More and more people passed. Some took out cameras and pointed at her. She knew they were either looking at the video of her most recent failure, or just taking pictures. Neither was good. She saw something else. Another pair of men were walking by. She recognized them as Micheal and Bill, the couple she had seen on the weekend, and again oh so long before. She remembered when she saw Michael diapered and sucking his pacifier, to be sent back to a pre school. Now he was there, in a suit, and walking out of arms reach of his caretaker.He stopped and looked toward her. Their eyes met, and she could see the pacifier in his mouth. A rope extended from him, and Jessica realized he wasn't walking free, he was on a leash held by Bill. It tightened, and he walked away along. Jessica sighed.There were multiple ways to be tested in this world, and different kinds of successes and failures. Michael had found one at least, but she was still there, having moved so much further back in the same amount of time. She relaxed and didn't even fight as she felt herself use her diaper, much to the amusement of the onlookers. Funny, she thought. She had been told that the uncovered diapers were so that she'd be checked and changed quickly, but now all the nurses were busy as dozens of others came by to gawk.The world hadn't ended yet, and she hadn't gone back to the genie to see the end of the bet. Perhaps there was still a way to succeed in this world.

She sat back down and waited patiently. After a few more minutes there were footsteps outside. SHe looked over happily as the door opened. To her horror, Dr. Jeffreyson walked in, followed immediately by Marianne. They both looked angrily at her."What!? What's going on!?" Jessica shouted, looking from them to Mr. Owen."Did you really think this would work?" the doctor asked."I... How did...""How did what? Marianne went out the window, got her phone and put in a missing toddler level report, as she should. The report from the students in the park helped narrow it down."Jessica looked at Mr. Owen. "How did you know?""Really?" he replied. "I'm a trained caretaker and tester, not an interviewer. You clearly had no idea what was going on. No one applies for a job the way you did, no one would just say 'any job' and ask to be Vice CEO, no one would 'forget' their proofs, there were no records anywhere of you anywhere, and "Micheal" isn't a last name. The secretary made up "Jordan Micheal of Rike Shoes" as a test, and when you went for it, she contacted me and sent a message to the authorities. I wanted to speak to you myself, and it was pretty clear you were at a low level. You failed basically every test I gave you.""So, those questions weren't real?""No. 'Sunshine Lolipops" isn't a real company, silly, and we wouldn't be investing in dollies and teddy bears. You were very cute though, I'm going to be showing that video for a while. Nice try with the cup though, almost made it." He took out a remote control and hit a button. The back wall turned into a telivision, showing a video of her walking into the building.Jessica then saw it as they did. Her, walking in, clearly lying to the secretary. Agreeing to all the silly things Mr. Owen said and spilling her water. Her staring at the toys and children's books on his shelves. All of them laughing and snickering whenever she turned around. She really did look like a child pretending to be a grown up, and she began to cry."I'm sorry! I didn't mean to! I was just trying to," she was cut off by a pacifier, and Dr. Jeffreyson hugged her. "I know. I know what you were trying to do, but you have to realize we have these rules for your own good. How many did you break today? Locking Marianne in the bathroom, stealing clothes and money, running away, lying how many times?" He shook his head. "It isn't'' good Jessica."She nodded. "We will help you get better, and find something for you. But for now. Marianne?" Jessica gulped as Marianne walked toward her, grabbed her wrist, sat down and pulled her over her lap. She didn't struggle as the spanking began. The pain mounted, and she felt herself wet the pants she had tried so desperately to earn. (short update I know, more in a few days)

She lifted the heavy steel bar and pushed it between the handles of the double doors. She tried to shift them, and found there was no way to open it with the bar in place. Marianne was now locked in the bathroom with no way out. "So long, Marianne," she said. It was time for her to begin to laugh again. She smiled, and walked away.She ran up two flights of stairs and into the doctor's bathroom. She went into the master bathroom and looked in the closet. As expected, there were piles of underwear, running from full on baby diapers, to her own, to plain whites and pull ups. At the top, there were bags of panties and boxers. She giggled excitedly.She tore off her plastic pants and diapers, threw them in the trash can and grabbed a pull up. She shook her head, and reached up for the panties. She tore the bag and pulled one on.She ran out into the bedroom, into their closet, and went through their clothes. After a while she found a pants suit, the kind she used to wear, and put it on. She considered grabbing heels, but she needed to move quickly, so she stuck with flats. She then went through a stack of purses until she found one with money in it, took out the id cards, and left.She ran down the stairs and to the front door. She could tell the shower had stopped, and heard footsteps. "Jessica?" Marianne's voice said as she ran out the door.Jessica breathed heavily. She wanted to panic and cheer in excitement at the same time, but forced herself to calm down. She needed to get downtown. If she could find a job, any job, and avoid detection for a few weeks as she worked... arguably, that would be a 'success.' Even if it didn't count as one to the genie, it would prove to this world that she could live on her own.She began walking. It was a long way, but she had made it before, normally at the wrong end of her leash, or holding someone's hand. Still, it was still early in the day and she figured she could make it there before afternoon, ever earlier if she found a bus. It was a bright, sunny day, and she didn't mind the walk.She passed by the school. It was a weekend, but some of the sports teams were out practicing. She tsked. Today was a practice day, which meant there could be teams training all over town. If one of them recognized her, it be all over. She moved to the other side of the street, kept her head down and walked faster.She could see the downtown core not far past the school. A long line of tall buildings in staggered steps stretched toward the sky and, if she was lucky, her freedom. The streets became busier and the side walks became more crowded, and soon she was standing amid office buildings and shops, any one of which might be her ticket.She began checking doors for 'help wanted' posters. It didn't need to be a fancy job, just something she could use to pay for her own living. She passed by building after building, and ended up in a park. It was huge, with a wide filed running along the street and a several wooded pathways going down the other. She could tell the edges of it by the line of buildings at the end, otherwise the size was obscured by trees. There was a group of girls running in two packs through the field. The first pack were all wearing shorts and identical shirts. The group behind them had the same shirts but lacked shorts, and were running in exposed diapers. Jessica could see them blushing from where she stood. She recognized the scene. It was the track group from her school. Those not yet in the thinner, plain white diapers were made to run without shorts for the first few practices. The explanation was that the motion of running made them even more susceptible both accidents and rashes, so the the staff needed to watch them closely. Jessica suspected that hazing rituals had more to do it. This became especially bad as some of the girls who were slower in their training would run in the diaper pack year after year as others moved ahead of them, and those that were were blushing an even deeper red then the others. Some of the girls in shorts were running behind the diapered group, and as some slowed down they would move up to them, spanking them while yelling 'encouragement' until they caught up. She made note She heard a whacking sound coming from beside her. She saw a tall, black hared man spanking the diapered bottom of another who had his pants down to his ankles. "I told you not to argue with me in public! You've been very naughty today! Bad boy!""OW! OW! OW! I'm sorry!" The other pleaded. The taller man ignored his please and pulled the diaper down. "Please no! Bill, no! Not bare here! he complained, but was ignored as the diaper joined his pants around his knees. Jessica could see that it was a fully printed diaper, much like the ones she normally wore, though the rest of his clothes looked more mature. She wanted to walk on, but kept watching in fascination. Eventually the spanking stopped, and Bill helped the other to his feet and helped him pull his pants up. They were both wearing suits, while only the smaller brunette had the tell tale bulge of a diaper under his pants. Jessica realized she had seen them before.The brunette was sniffling, and the other pushed a pacifier in his mouth and handed him a teddy bear, leading to more whining. He shook a finger in his face. "Now, no more complaining, and no more slacking off! You are lucky they called me instead of the Testing Board, or this could be much worse. You go right back there and apologize for your behavior.""But its a weekend, and they were being mean!"The taller one spoke compassionately. "I know sweetie, but sometimes you need to work on a weekend. And they weren't being mean, they were just teasing you a bit about your special underwear. Its because your're cute and they like you.""No one else there needs to wear one," he grumbled."I know, but its ok. Michael, look at me." He cupped his chin. "Remember, you aren't worse off. Its what makes you special, right?"He nodded, though he didn't seem convinced. "It doesn't feel that way. It feels like I'm a baby.""I know, but you aren't. YOu still passed all the other tests and were allowed to work, right? They wouldn't let you there if you didn't deserve it. Aren't you happy you are allowed to work? Huh?" He tickled him.Michael giggled. "Yeah," he said. "I know.""Not everyone does equally well on all the tests. Some people are in boxers but can't work. Some people never athletics and wear diapers, but are experts in their fields. And some people are plenty smart, capable people, but still need a caretaker to change them and help them calm down with a pacifier and teddy. And aren't you plenty smart?" He ruffled his hair.The brunette was smiling now. "I don't want her changing me. I want you.""I know but I have to work too. I don't want any more arguing, ok? While you are at work, Ms. Statson is your caretaker. Remember, in every other way you are still a grown adult. Give her the extra diapers, the paci and the teddy I gave you, apologize, and let her know you'll be listening to her from now on. Remember, she fills my role. If she checks your diaper or gives you a spanking, its not because she's being mean, she's helping you. No more running away. Alright?""Ok," he leaned in for for a kiss, and the other pulled him in for a hug and pressed his lips against him before leading him by the hand across a street.Jessica was slightly disturbed by the scene. As she never got out of the school, she was never certain how the rest of the world went. She realized someone could be considered a functioning adult in some ways and not in others, but it never occurred to her the difference could be so drastic. An intelligent, capable, working adult, with someone assigned at work and home to change their diapers? What an odd world."You know, just because they are both men, doesn't mean there is something wrong with their relationship."Jessica almost gasped when she heard the woman speaking to her. She realized she had clearly looked at them with disgust. "Oh, no its not that its..."The woman, a tall blond in what looked liked a guard's uniform, didn't let her finish. "You should be able to control your emotions more then that, and realize that different relationships work." The couple had stopped and were watching, and more people began to look. Jessica did not want this attention right now, especially from what seemed to be a regulatory officer. She shuddered to remember her first encounter with one, spanking her on the first fateful day.Michael was staring. "Wait, did you recognize that girl?" Jessica heard him say."What?" Bill asked.He pointed back at Jessica. "Yeah, she was at the police station the night you were assigned to be my caretaker, wasn't she?""Was she?"Jessica turned away and ran into the park. She went down a winding, forested path, and kept moving until she knew she was out of sight. She stopped, panting, and started walking again.She ended up in a clearing. A massive stone structure rose up beside her. It appeared ancient and crumbling, but well preserved none the less. It reminded her of a pyramid, but built in steps, and painted in bright reds and blues. "Can you beleive that building is 12,000 years old?" someone asked."What? she said.A man, wearing all beige clothes and a vest that said 'tour guide' on it, pointed at the building. "Its 12,000 years old. Just think of how much, even today, comes from it. Our government buildings are still built in its style." Jessica realized that all the stepped buildings she had seen while heading downtown were just far larger versions of the same design."Are you here for a tour, or to apply for a job?""I uhhh..." she considered. A tour guide would be a reasonable job, and easy enough. Except... She looked at the building. It be fine if they gave her a list of what to say, but if anyone asked a question it would quickly become obvious she didn't know as much about it as even the average person."Say, why are you looking confused? If you live in this city you should have heard this all before."Jessica turned and ran again, deeper into the park. The man shouted 'hello' after her but didn't follow. When she was out of sight, she calmed down. She wiped her brow on her sleeve, and remained still until she caught her breath, then kept going. That was twice she was almost caught, the day wasn't going well.She heard footsteps. A girl, wearing the uniform of her school and panting, ran toward her.Jessica almost shouted in fear, but the girl didn't seem to recognize her. Jessica realized that, while she was well known at school, she had only ever been seen while dressed as a baby, on a leash and sucking a pacifier. She doubted the runner would draw the connection between the schools infamous diaper girl and the well dressed woman in front of her. Still, she didn't want to risk it, and backed away.The girl reached her and stopped, collapsing with her hands to her knees. Jessica saw she held a white diaper in one of her hands."Please," she said. "You have to help me.""What?" Jessica said."I..." she blushed, then leaned into whisper. "I had an accident. A bad one."Jessica backed away as the smell made the girls point for her. "Eww," she said instinctively and covered her nose.The girl blushed and moved back. "I know, I'm sorry! I don't normally its just I didn't have time to go after lunch and running around started to make my stomach ache.""What do you want me to do?" Jessica asked."Please, you need to change me." The girl looked behind her. "Now, before the others see.""What!?""Please! Half of them are already in pull ups! I'm supposed to be testing soon, but if they see that I messed..." she shuddered. "I'll be back in prints running in the diaper pack. I can't do that! I'm supposed to be one of the more mature ones, I couldn't look them in the eye if I went back!""Just change yourself!"She winced. "No they wouldn't show me how yet! I know its weird but its just one thing I've been behind on. I," she stopped as they heard foosteps coming around the corner. The girl looked at Jessica in panic."Its the staff! Quickly! Sit down!" she pointed at a park bench."What?"The girl stripped her shorts off, exposing her messy diaper. She pushed Jessica onto the bench, then sat in her lap. "What are you..." Jessica's eyes went wide, and almost gagged at the feeling and the smell of the runner's messy diaper against her."Just trust me." She undid Jessica's suit jacket, leaned into her chest, and hugged her. "Pretend you're comforting me."The footsteps came closer, and a man and a woman, both of whom Jessica recognized as teachers, passed by."It worked," she said. She looked around. "But quickly. You need to change me before the runners come by. They will recognize me."What?""The teachers didn't see my face, so if they didn't see my shirt or shorts they wouldn't recognize me as a student. They saw my messy diaper and assumed I was a never grow old with a caretaker. We have a student like that in our school, still in almost baby diapers." Jessica winced. "If the others see me... they will recognize me." She got off Jessica's lap and held the spare diaper out in both hands. "Please, change me? If they see me it would set me back."Jessica stood up and began to back away. "I don't think I can.""Why not? You're a full grown up, right? Dressed like that..." The girl looked at her. "That is an odd fitting suit. Say, do I know you?"Jessica backed up faster. Footsteps were coming around, more of them. She began to panic, and struggled to keep it from showing on her face. Adults here rarely showed that kind of emotion, she couldn't give it away now.The girl's eyes went wide. She gasped and pointed a finger. "Oh my god! Its you!""No. You don't know me.""I do! I do! What are you doing? You can't be here! I can't believe I just asked a toddler level for a diaper change."The footsteps got nearer, and the running group came up."Cynthia? What are you doing? Why is your diaper messy."The girl, Cynthia, didn't respond. She just kept pointing in shock at Jessica. "Its her!"Jessica turned away and ran. Cynthia followed, shouting for her to wait. Jessica crossed came out of the woods and onto the side walk. She looked down the street and saw a line of cars coming, but ran out anyway. They stopped and honked, and she made it to the other side walk. She looked back to see Cynthia, followed by the rest of the runners, stop on the other side. She knew they wouldn't cross, almost no one broke rules in this world. The other girls crowded around Cynthia, and she suddenly realized she was now standing in a busy street in an exposed messy diaper, looked down and shouted. One of the teachers grabbed her hand and began to lead her away as she pleaded and pointed toward Jessica.Jessica shook her head. Poor girl. She walked down the the street, around a corner, and out of view.Eventually she found what she was looking for. An office building had a sign reading "Help Wanted, Apply Inside. Details Online." There was a website listed underneath. Jessica opened the door and walked into a giant lobby. The floors were marbled in dark red and black, and golden pots held plants along the edges. Whatever they did here, they made a lot of money. Jessica walked toward a massive desk in the center of the room."Hello, I'm here to apply for the job being listed" She said to the smiling secretary."Alright, which job would that be?""Uhhh," Jessica paused. The sign didn't give any information. "The one listed on the sign there." She pointed.The secretary looked over her Jessica's shoulder at the sign. "Yes," she nodded slowly, as if confused. "And that website would lead you to a list of fifteen jobs. Which one were you looking at?"Jessica tried to think. She didn't even know what they did here. "The first one."The secretary looked at her blankly. "You were applying for vice CEO?"Jessica winced inwardly. However, she knew better then to change her story now. Confidence worked, she had to fake it until she made it. "Yes," she said."So you have the required two masters and minimum fifteen years experience? Why don't I recognize you?'"I mean, really any of the jobs would work." Jessica winced again. Bad line.The secretary nodded. "Alright. Whats your name?"Jessica tried to think and wished she had thought this through earlier. "Cynthia," she said."Cynthia what?""Cynthia... Michael." It was the first name that came to her head, and she thought of the man being spanked earlier that day."I see. Any relation to Jordan Michael, CEO of Rike Shoes?""Yes! He's my cousin." The name sounded familiar. Jessica hoped she wouldn't check, and if she did, she'd claim she misheard. It was always good to make them think you had a connection."I see. Well I'll let you in to speak with someone, and they will take care of you." She began typing into her computer."Is there a bathroom nearby?" Jessica asked. It was one of the things she hadn't been allowed to do for years, and she had began to feel pressure.The secretary looked at her face, then down at her waist. "Of course. If you have your proof of full training, that is."Jessica pretended to check her pockets. "I must have left it at home. I think my secretary put it in the wrong purse.""I see. We'll then, I'm sorry but you'll have to hold it. Since you've gone through the tests that should be no problem of course.""Of course."The secretary went back to typing on her computer, and after a moment she pointed down the hall. "Third door please, Mr. Owen's office."Jessica went by her, knocked on the third door and was told to come in. She walked into a small, brown office, filled with book shelves, a broad desk and a single chair. The person at the desk, a dark haired man in a suit, pointed to the spare chair. She she sat down. On the bookself beside her she noticed a series of children's books, followed by toy made of small metal bars with colorful beds on them. She looked nervously at it."So, Cynthia Michael, cousin of Jordan Micheal?""Yes," she nodded."And you are applying for any job, in particular the vice CEO?"Jessica made herself match his smile. "Yes." It was a long shot, but she figured if she got the job, that itself would be a success. If not, she'd just move on and try elsewhere. Always aim for the top, she told herself. It worked in her other life, why not here?"And you are fully trained?""Of course.""I see. Where did you do your masters?"Jessica searched her mind for any universities she had heard of and came up blank. "Yale and Harvard," she said, hoping they existed in that world too."I see. Very impressive." Jessica sighed in relief."And what would your plan be as Vice CEO?"Well I'd invest in..." She paused."Dollies and teddy bears?" he suggested."Yes! Of course.""Both growing markets.""I know!" she said."What about baby bottles and diapers? Those are always needed.""Yes. Consistent products.""Yes, like sunshine, lolipops and rainbows? What about nice smiles?"Jessica began to panic again. "What do you mean?""Sunshine Lolipos corp and Rainbows Exporting. Nice Smiles is another fast growing company. Of course, you know all of that, given your experience.""Yes! Of course.""Would you like some water?""Please."He walked to a water cooler beside his desk, poured a cup and handed it to her. She hadn't held an actual cup in years, and her hands shook nervously. She tried to drink and spilled some on her shirt."Oh, I'm sorry, a bit clumsy," she laughed.He laughed too. "Of course, you have passed all your athletic tests, right? Including co-ordination?" He put his elbows on his desk and his head in his hands, leaning closely to Jessica."Of course." She replied."So you aren't too clumsy?""No."He smiled. "Well I'm sure you'll be a great fit. Give me a moment?" He got up to leave."Yes. Where are you going?""Oh I'm... I'm going to get more people to interview you. Just sit tight, ok?"He left and locked the door.Jessica waited. Minutes passed. he began tapping her feet on the ground, then her hands on her knees. She looked at the closed door and wondered what was taking so long, but didn't want to blow her chances by getting up and leaving now. It was a long shot, an odd con, but if it worked there was no way the genie would be able to argue with her. Vice CEO of a major company was a success, now matter how she did it.More time passed. She began to feel her bladder ache. She wasn't used to holding anything in anymore, and she didn't know how long she'd last.She looked around the office. It was strangely small for someone taking interviews for such a high position. Perhaps it wasn't really his office, and just where they took in applicants? Perhaps it was only for the first layer of interviews?She realized she hand't asked what his position was, and didn't even know what the company did. She began looking at the books on the shelves, looking for clues."Thinkers, Slower and Faster," "The Development of the Mind," "Emotional Intelligence." He seemed to be some kind of psychiatrist. Why was he doing the interviews?Her bladder began to ache again. She got up and went to the door. To her surprise, the handle refused to turn, and she realized it was locked. Was this some kind of trap? A kidnapping? She tried to fight back the panic. No, she told herself. It must be a mistake. An automatic lock as he left.She banged on it. "Hello? Anyone out there?"The door opened slightly. Mr Owen poked his head in, and Jessica was suprised he was so close outside. "Yes?" he said."I need to go to the bahtroom," she said.He looked at her quizzically. "You need to take a bath? Why?" he asked."I mean the toilet!"He nodded. "I see. And you've passed all your training levels for that, right? No more diapers for you?""Yes!"He nodded again. "I see. Well, there will be more help in a minute. Just hang tight. (Apparently some silly people thought Jessica was going to murder Marianne. Bad.)

I dont have a huge desire to have a crib because then I couldn't sleep with my Daddy which is WAAAYYYY more important to me. If I had to pick between a crib or being able to curl up on Daddy's chest and fall asleep listening to his heartbeat while cuddling a stuffie it's no contest in my mind ??

There's plenty of real abdl girls that also offer cam sessions. just find them on the various social media sites & hit them up!