Leaderboard

-_-_Chapter 5_-_- I woke from the most restful slumber I had ever had, an early morning breeze made the curtains dance in the sunlight beaming through the open window. I stretched my arms, pushing the sheets off me, letting my eyes adjust to the light. I slowly came to my surroundings, remembering the previous day. Looking at my waist, I saw the diaper I was put in was now swollen. ‘I definitely do not remember doing that’ I thought as I reached for the tapes. I pulled, nothing, I tugged harder, only resulting in my fingers slipping off. “Whatever,” I mumbled as I gave up. “I thought I heard somebody waking up,” Anette said walking through the door. “Morning,” I grumbled. “Aww, someone’s not a morning person,” she smiled as she lifted me out of the crib, “and that someone used his diaper!” she poked my belly with the last three syllables. She swung me up to what I now realized was a changing table, and took the plain shirt I had been wearing for at least the previous day off. She made removing the diaper look easy, removing the four impossibly strong tapes, before grabbing both my ankles in one hand and making quick work disposing of it. “Bath time!” She announced suddenly, swooping me up in one arm and headed out the door. She reached the bathroom door quickly, and shut it behind her, setting me down on a plush carpet near the sink. As I was taking in the enormity of the room and its fixtures, Anette started the bath process, adding all sorts of soaps and scents, spreading out a fluffy white towel on the ground. Her arms appeared from behind, depositing me in the warm bath, the walls of the tub looking like an emptied swimming pool, far too deep for me to try to get in or out without help. ‘Another thing I can’t do on my own’ I rolled my eyes. The warm water did feel good though, mixed with scents I couldn’t place and the bubbles resting at belly button level, this was what I always imagined spa’s to be like. Aside from the watchful she-giant, that is. Anette started scrubbing, rubbing a shampoo through my hair, giving a light scalp massage as she lathered it up. I found myself enjoying it far more than I thought I would, surprised at myself I wasn’t feeling embarrassed or uneasy being stark naked in front of a stranger. She grabbed a cloth from the side of the bathtub, lathering some soap and washing me, as thoroughly as she could. Rinsing me off, she pulled the drain and wrapped me in a towel, rubbing me dry. She picked me off the slippery surface of the tub and I got the first real glimpse of myself. “Is that me?” I asked, pointing into the mirror. “Mmhmm,” she smiled, waving at our reflection. “Can I look,” I turned my head to her, “please?” I added. “Of course” she smiled, placing my feet on the cold stone countertop, holding onto my hips. The reflection that looked back was not the person I remembered. My hair was a lighter shade of brown, nearly matching Anette’s, cut into a short clean style. I had no indication of stubble, my scars and blemishes were gone, leaving me with clean, smooth skin. My body hair matched my face, no sign that hair ever grew there. I was groomed and cleaned, even my nails were perfectly kempt, leaving me looking at least a dozen years younger. I partitioned the towel to investigate the rest of my body, finding that I was rid of the many hideous scars from my past, but thankfully nothing had been tremendously altered. “Thank you,” I said finally, rewrapping the towel around me. “For what?” she asked. She looked sincere, “You keep being so polite, I’m gonna have to let the neighbor kids teach you a thing or two,” she ruffled my hair, laughing. Quickly scooping me up, she toted me to the changing table, securing me once more in a diaper, after applying some sort of cream and powder to my privates and bottom. “I still don’t need these,” I was hoping somehow to get through to her, let her know that this must have been some mistake on the form they must have given her, or an incorrect presumption she might have carried. I for sure didn’t know how these people treated their kids, ‘maybe they took longer to potty train?’ I guessed. “I think your other diaper would argue otherwise,” she sang while gently grabbing my toes, bringing an involuntary giggle out of me. She snapped a buckle around my chest and quickly diverted her attention to the closet, grabbing some running shorts and a yellow shirt with some cartoon characters that looked like a cross between Sesame Street and The Muppets, with block characters that had no resemblance to English. After dressing me, she brought me down to the kitchen and strapped me in the same highchair they did yesterday. She messed around in their massive refrigerator for a minute before coming into my line of sight again. “Alright, so what sounds good, I have milk, formula, juice or Little-Aid,” she presented the bottles like a showman, giving me a good look at the bottles they came in. “Um, juice please,” I pointed at the odd-looking fruit, my best guess would be an apple-pear hybrid. The fruit did look good, and made my stomach give out an impatient growl. “Good choice, mind if I have some too?” Anette asked, giving me the puppy dog eyes, while pouring the juice in a baby bottle. “Uh, if you want?” I shrugged. ‘Why ask me, I’m apparently just along for the ride’ I stared at the bottle, hoping to turn it into a beer bottle instead. “You’re just the cutest thing,” she laughed at me, putting the drinks back. She tucked the bottle into the crook of her arm, freeing me from the binds of the chair with her free hand. We ended up back on the couch, placing her glass on the table and placing me on her lap. She rubbed the nipple of the bottle on my lips. “Can Taylor open up for the bottle?” She asked. I shook my head and crossed my arm. ‘There’s a limit, and this is beyond what I’m willing to put up with today’ I crossed my arms in a huff. Anette used her free hand to tickle my side and slipped the nipple in my mouth when I started laughing. It felt surprisingly natural, and my mouth automatically started sucking from the bottle, and try as I might, I couldn’t stop it. “That’s my good boy,” She coaxed, rubbing circles on my back. The flavor of the juice was odd, the appearance of the fruit on the package bore the same resemblance in taste, making it seem like I was drinking a Capri-Sun, rather than an actual fruit juice. Anette dragged her nails through my hair as I downed the bottle, it did feel nice, but I hated that I liked it. I was an adult, I shouldn’t be drinking from a bottle, getting bathed and diapered by a woman who wanted to be called my Mom, it was wrong, wasn’t it? I finished the bottle after a few minutes, Anette took the bottle, placing it next to her empty glass on the table. “Did you like the juice?” she asked while softly smacking my back, bringing out an involuntary burp. “It was good, we don’t have anything natural like that back home,” I wiped my mouth with my sleeve. “Where’s Jack?” I asked. I hadn’t heard anybody else all morning aside from her and I. “He went back to work today, he’d taken some time off to make sure everything was ready for you, and that you weren’t going to be any trouble,” she smiled down at me, “which you haven't,” she added. “Oh, what does he do?” I wanted to avoid any demeaning tasks for a while, so conversation seemed the best option. “He works at Adopt a Little, he’s one of the consultants who makes sure Bigs are ready to adopt, he does home visits, financial investigations, interviews, and then matches Littles to their Bigs.” “What do you mean, matching Littles to Bigs?” “So, when Littles decide they want to come here, they have a lot of tests to do. Make sure they aren’t running from the law or debt, suffering from mental issues, and that it's their own decision.” She shifted in the seat, whether it was from mental discomfort or physical discomfort, I couldn’t tell, “There is personality tests, questionnaires, and a preference sheet that need to be close to a Bigs to make sure that a Little gets the experience they want, and a Big can treat their Little according to their beliefs. Your case was an extremely different case, as you are one of the first in this new program.Your government and the director of Adopt A Little wanted to help more Bigs get Littles, so they import people in positions like yours, who would do better in the care of someone like us instead of an institution. In turn, your government saves money and space in prisons for the real bad people, and Littles get to be cared for.” “So people actually volunteer to come here? To get treated like a child?” It didn’t make sense to me, if you had the opportunity to live a decent life on Earth, why come to this cockamamie world? “Hey, mister, don’t judge what you don’t understand,” her tone dropped to a serious and strict voice, “Littles come here for all sorts of reasons, and everyone has a right to find happiness, understand?” Her eyes were not budging from mine, and I knew she was serious. My gaze dropped, I know people struggle, hell, I had, but not where I wanted this. “Of course,” I replied, people did deserve happiness, but this was not happiness to me, the Judge was right, this was a prison of its own.

Chapter 20 Over the course of human history, the fight or flight response has saved a great number of people; however, when your pants are at half mast it can work against you. Chelsea spun around causing the girl’s grip on her sweats to fail and them to fall and jumble at her feet. Unable to stop her momentum, the 21-year-old tripped over her own tangled feet, whiffed on her attempt to punch the girl and landed on her padded posterior. In short order the girl ripped the sweats the rest of the way off, taking them with her as she walked away and left Chelsea a sobbing mess. With her jeans in her locker, and the key to the locker in her sweatpants pocket it was going to be hard to hide her diapered state for very long. Ducking back into a stall and waiting for the noise in the locker room to die down as the rest of the girls presumably went to the court for class, the diapered girl crept out in search of something to cover herself. A squeak of surprise escaped her lips when she rounded the corner to find two girls still there, both turned at the noise. “Oh my god! What are you wearing?” the red-headed one laughed. Not to be outdone the blonde chimed in, “Aww. Poor baby. Did mommy forget to pack your gym clothes? Here, take these,” she threw a pair of tiny shorts in Chelsea’s direction. With little other option the diapered girl pulled the shorts up her legs as the two girls giggled their way to join class. The top of her crinkly underwear clearly visible, Chelsea sobbed and timidly followed behind lest she be tardy and get a zero for participation points on the day. A quick defeat (6-2, 6-1) seemed inevitable, the fact she had won a couple points courtesy of her partner double faulting on serves, only prolonged the torture. Skipping the locker room Chelsea began the long walk of shame home, her bike key and any money for bus fare still trapped in her locker. “Did you have a good day at school?” Brianna asked when Chelsea entered the house. Seeing what the girl was wearing, “You complained about me changing you at the pharmacy then go parading around town dressed like that? Hmm. No matter. Let’s get you a fresh diaper.” Change of her underwear complete, the 21-year-old asked, “Can you give me a ride to the athletic complex? I left some things in my locker.” “Sure thing, sweetie. But I suggest some more appropriate clothes first.” “You don’t have to be patronizing,” Chelsea stomped up the stairs, “I’m not a little fucking kid.” Returning downstairs with a proper pair of jeans and the spare key to her padlock found Brianna with bar of soap in hand. “No, you are not a little kid. In fact, you’re the oldest girl I’ve ever had to babysit, so forgive me if I say things to help take care of you. Open up.” An obligatory nine minutes later the pair were in Brianna’s car. Happily, there was no one around and Chelsea was able to retrieve her belongings without further incident. As she exited the building, she could feel for the first time in days, another exodus impending. Clamping a hand to her backside the 21-year-old did an about face and dashed into the nearest restroom, ripped off her diaper and had a successful trip to the potty. Finished she inspected the damage to her undergarment; all four tapes were torn. Disposing of the now useless diaper in the trash she returned to Brianna’s car and hoped she didn’t leak too much on the ride home. Before Chelsea had the chance to get in the car Brianna stopped her, “Did you make it in time?” “Yes,” the 21-year-old hissed trying to swat the 19-year-olds hands away. Pulling on the back of her charges shorts to check for herself and finding her protection missing, “I’m proud of you, but I don’t want you peeing on my seats. It’s a good thing I brought your diaper bag for this short trip.” “Please, no, you can’t.” Chelsea begged. Brianna pointed to the growing wet patch on the other girl’s shorts, “I think that suggests I definitely should. Come on.” Back in the locker room the babysitter commanded the older girl to lay down on a bench and began to unfold a fresh diaper. Realizing it was probably best to not fight and get this over with as quick as possible Chelsea complied. With the padding pulled up between her legs and shorts tugged back into place she survived another potential public embarrassment unscathed.

I've been reading these stories for a while now, and lately I've been kept awake by an idea that won't leave me alone. It's been a long time since I've written anything, so constructive criticism is welcome. So far I only have the opening written. I was hoping for some feedback before continuing. Also, please forgive me dear readers, but as a writer, I tend to be very cruel before I can be kind. Damaged Goods Richard Carson was aimlessly driving, as he often did when he was upset with himself. Although he was driving somewhat fast, he wasn’t being reckless. There was no way he wanted to get pulled over. Not in the mood he was in. He was absolutely furious with himself. Once again, he got fired for losing his temper on the job. Once again, he let someone he worked with get to him. Even though he had only slammed out the back door and hit the dumpster by the loading dock, he had been seen and reported to HR. He had been brought in for a meeting and told he was being let go. The company had a zerotolerance policy on any kind of violence in the workplace. He knew it, and still hadn’t been able to control the outburst. Now as he drove down the highway, he was trying to decide what to do. Part of him wanted to find a secluded spot and slit his wrist. Another part wanted to stop somewhere and just beat himself silly. The rational part, that just wanted to go home and cool off, was overwhelmed and buried by the other parts. The brilliant flash of purple light in front of the car barely registered before he hit it. Suddenly, it felt like thousands of volts of electricity were racing through and around his body. He only had time to think “Wha...” before losing consciousness. While he was out cold, the energy of the portal he went through killed the engine of the car and lucky for Richard, also killed most of the car’s momentum. As a result, he hit the tree on the other side at a much less lethal 15 mph rather than the 70 mph he had been going. ----------- Elena Westing was working in her garden when she heard a loud thud from the front of the house. Startled, she headed toward the sound. “What could that be?” She thought. When she got to the front of the house, she couldn’t believe what she saw. It looked like a half-sized car had run into one of her trees. Looking around, she didn’t see any other people or vehicles. “This has to be a prank” She thought as she went to the unusual car. “I didn’t hear a car engine or brakes squealing.” There was very little damage to it so apparently it hadn’t been going very fast. Opening the driver’s side door, she found an unconscious Little behind the wheel. Once again, she looked around to see if someone was playing a prank on her. After all, who ever heard of Littles driving a car, let alone one small enough for them. Seeing no one, she moved closer to check on the Little. He seemed relatively unhurt save for being out cold. She carefully pulled him from the car and laid him on the ground. The more she examined him, the more confused she got. He was wearing adult style clothes. Upon stripping him, she found he wasn’t wearing any diapers. She also found that he had a couple of tattoos. That meant he had to be a Portal Little. No native Little would be allowed to go anywhere without diapers, let alone have tattoos. She couldn’t believe her luck. She had wanted to get her daughter a pet to teach her how to be responsible, but refused to spend the kind of money that one would cost. This was perfect. She never did believe that Littles were people. To her they were no better than any other primate. With this one, she had the perfect pet for Lily. But first she had to get him out of sight. Tossing his clothes into the car, she quickly picked him up and brought him inside. Locking him in the downstairs bathroom, she returned outside. Looking in the car she saw that it was just like a regular car just smaller. She put it in neutral and pushed it into the shed in back of the house. While there, she grabbed a dog crate that had been left there by the previous owners. After setting it up in the guest room, she went to check on their new pet.

This story is my entry into the contest: Bill North swung into the store on his way home from work. He had to pick up a few things for tonight. He went to the coolers and grabbed a six-pack of his favorite beer. On the way to the cashier, he grabbed a large bag of chips and some dip. The game was on TV tonight, and he had money on it. He was looking forward to watching it. Of course, his wife would want him to eat a proper dinner, but he could do that in front of the TV. His wife, he snickered to himself. She’s always worrying about him, his health, his well-being. She was good to have around. Easy on the eyes, too. But not much more than that. He’d married for superficial things. But she was easy to control, and he could live with that. Her latest kick was that they get their legal situation in order. To appease her, he sat through a session with lawyers where wills were drafted, along with all sorts of other paperwork. Advanced medical directives, powers of attorney in case one of them becomes incapacitated, and the like. He even bought additional life insurance to make her happy. It was easy enough to keep her happy. He swung in and brought in his purchases. His wife was in the kitchen, and he threw the beers in the fridge and gave her a peck. “You didn’t forget?” she asked. Forget what? He thought. It wasn’t their anniversary or her birthday. He racked his brain. “Mrs. Girard from the insurance company is coming this evening. She should be here any time now.” Now he remembered. The insurance company insisted on some tests before they issued the policy. “I remember. It won’t take too long, I hope. The game is on.” “She said she should be in and out in under a half an hour.” He looked at his watch. That should give plenty of time before kickoff. He decided not to crack a beer until after the nurse left. A moment later, the doorbell rang. A woman entered carrying a small bag. She was a tall woman, but younger than Bill had anticipated, and not unattractive. Well, if he had to be tested, nice to have someone cute do it. “I hope this won’t take too long,” he said. “The game on in thirty-five minutes.” “No, problem. Mr. North,” the nurse said. “Your part will only take about ten minutes. Now, if you would take a seat, we can get started.” Bill softened and sat down. He tried his best engaging smile. “So nice that we get personal service like this.” He made an emphasis on personal. He wondered if he could get any action with this nurse. The nurse gave him a forced smile, and then she looked over at April. I guess not, Bill thought. April seemed to have noticed his come on, as well. He’d calm her down later. He held out his arm for the nurse, and she swabbed it with alcohol. She wrapped a rubber band around his arm. He had been through this before. He was expecting a blood draw but was a full syringe that she shoved into the vein. She thumbed the plunger home and then pulled it out and undid the band. “What’s this?” Bill said. “I thought this was a blood test.” He felt odd. The last words came out slurred. “It’s a powerful paralytic,” the nurse said with a more sincere smile. “You’ll remain awake, but in a few seconds, you’ll lose control voluntary movement.” The nurse picked up her phone and spoke into it, “We’re ready for you.” She pulled papers from her bag and handed them and a pen to April. “Here are the commitment papers. Once you sign him, he’ll be officially in our care until you decide otherwise.” “Commitment papers?” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.” It was getting harder to speak. The door opened, and two more women came in with a stretcher. “Your wife will make that decision. If thirty seconds, you'll be completely incapacitated. She has a power of attorney to make medical decisions for you in the event of your incapacitation. Incapacitated? It started to dawn on him. “April, no!” he wanted to yell, but it just came out as a grunt. He slumped in the chair. He tried to get up but was unable to move. The nurse leaned over and spread his eyelids and peered in. “I think he’s ready,” the nurse said. “You can sign now.” April signed the papers. “What happens to him now,” his wife asked. “We’ll keep an eye on him in case he has problems breathing. We have intubation gear ready, but that’s usually not required.” The nurse turned to the two new arrivals. “Get him on the stretcher and stripped down.” This all seemed so surreal to Bill. What was going on? These women were taking moving him to the stretcher and starting to take his close off. In another situation, being stripped by three women might have been a fantasy. He was scared now. He felt his boxers being pulled down his legs. “What’s that?” he heard his wife saying. “We have to put a diaper on him for transport. Sometimes the drug causes them to lose control.” April laughed. Bill didn’t think it was funny what was going on. The nurse turned to him. “Let me explain what is going on. Your wife just had you committed to our care. We run an institution for people like you. You’ll be with us until your wife determines you have reformed. It will be up to her to make the decisions. Some wives never reclaim their husbands.” Bill still was trying to grasp all this. The nurse was talking to April again. “The drug will wear off in about two hours. We’ll have him in the intake ward by then. I’ll call you and give you a status. You can come by and see him tomorrow if you like. Bill felt straps tightened across him. He was firmly strapped to the stretcher now. He felt the stretcher being moved. He was out the front door. He realized he was naked save for a diaper. He hoped nobody would see him. He was loaded into a waiting ambulance. As the doors closed, he saw April standing there smiling. She gave a little wave. As the ambulance pulled out, he tried to reason through this. His wife had him committed to some kind of mental hospital. She had signed the papers because he was incapacitated. That he was, he thought. All this legal stuff with the wills. Was it just to get that medical power of attorney? Had she done all this as a plan to get him committed? She wouldn’t have been that devious. Or would she? He remembers her laughing at the idea of him in a diaper, and that smile as she waved goodbye. There was no window he could see out. He tried to consider the turns being made to figure out where he was, but soon realized it was hopeless. He had no idea where he was or where he was going. He started to get groggy. One of the attendants said, “I think he’s going under.” “That’s OK. I’ll watch him. Better get the oxygen and an ET tube ready just in case.” Bill succumbed to the drug. The next thing he remembered, he was in a room. It looked like a hospital. How did he get here? Then it came back to him. He tried to move. Was he still under the effects of the drug? No, he could feel himself move, but he was strapped down to the bed. He struggled a bit, but he was immobilized. He gave up trying. The door opened. That nurse started to enter but then turned to talk to someone in the hall. “What do you have there, Doc?” a voice in the hall asked. “Another husband whose wife finds him in need of correction,” the nurse said over her shoulder. “Oh, fun,” the voice said. “I’m getting tired of surly teenagers.” The woman came toward him, “Oh, good. You’re awake.” “Where am I?” Bill said. “This is the Advanced Behavior Center. Your wife had you committed to our care, remember?” “She can’t. Let me out of here.” “She can. She had the authority. You were incapacitated.” “I’m not now! Let me out.” “I’m sorry. It doesn’t work that way. Once you’re committed, we just can’t let you go.” “Listen, nurse. This isn’t right. I want to speak to someone in charge.” “Listen, Bill. I am in charge. I am DOCTOR Girard. I am the director of the Center. You are going to be here for a while. This is the intake area. Behave yourself, and we’ll let you into a less restrictive environment.” Another woman entered the room. “This is Nurse Baker,” the doctor explained. “She’ll be in charge of you for the intake period. “Hi, let’s see how you are doing,” the nurse said. It was the voice he had heard talking to the doctor a few minutes earlier. He felt her grab his wrist. Taking his pulse, I guess. She jotted something down on a clipboard. “I think someone dirtied his diaper.” He felt a hand grasp his crotch. “The paralyzer does that sometimes,” the Doctor explained. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you cleaned up.” Bill felt the nurse tug at the tapes of the diaper, and then he was naked. She started in wiping his privates. Bill just laid there. He had to find a way out, but getting the diaper off was a good start. The nurse wasn’t bad looking either. He rapidly got an erection. “Don’t get any ideas,” the Nurse said. “Doctor!” The doctor had been doing something else and turned to see Bill’s state. “I see this is one thing we’re going to have to work on. She opened a drawer and pulled out a small device she pressed it to Bill’s member and suddenly. Zap. It felt like someone hit him with ten thousand volts. He screamed. “All fixed,” the doctor said. Bill looked down at his sore member now flaccid. The nurse finished up placing the diaper on him. “What was that all about?” Bill complained. “We’re going to have to calm your lecherous tendencies. Really, Bill.” She turned to the nurse. “Do you know this guy actually made a pass at me while his wife was standing there?” “I guess that is one of the reasons why he’s here.” “It is. His wife got tired of him ogling and hitting on every woman that went by. I’m going to leave now. Nurse Baker will be in charge of you for the time being. I’ll check in on you tomorrow.” She turned and walked out. “I gotta get out of here,” Bill tried with the nurse. “I’m afraid you’re here to stay. I’ll do what I can to make you comfortable in the interim. Are you hungry? I can get you some dinner.” Bill had to admit he was. He hadn’t eaten dinner, and it had to be nearly nine PM now. He nodded. “I’ll be right back.” She was gone a minute and then returned, pushing a cart. She pushed some buttons on the bed and tilted it so he was nearly in a seated position. She busied herself with placing something around his neck. He realized it was a bib. She then opened the lid on the food tray and took a spoonful of it. “Aren’t you going to unstrap me?” “I’m sorry, we can’t do that at this stage. I’ll feed you.” She pushed the spoon toward his lips. He swallowed a mouthful. Yuch. Hospital food. It tasted like baby food. She returned with another spoonful. “What if I need to use the bathroom?” “That’s why you have the diaper on.” “I thought that was because the drug caused me to lose control.” “That too, but we can’t unstrap you at this point. You’ll just have to make do.” He ate the rest of the food. She held a cup with a bent straw toward his lips, and he drank that. It was just water. She wiped his face and removed the bib, and wheeled the cart out. After a bit, she returned. “How are you doing?” “I’m tied up and wearing a diaper? How do you think I’m doing?” “Well, it’s getting late. Maybe you should try to get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a big day.” She lowered the bed to a flat position. She draped a cord over the edge of the bed. “Here’s a call button in case you need help. I’ll dim the lights now.” She turned off the lights and left. Bill was stuck there with his thoughts. How could April have done this to him? What was going to happen? How was he going to get out of here? He tried, but he didn’t think he’d ever fall asleep. He had no watch, no clock, no sense of time. He must have fallen asleep because he was roused by the lights coming on and someone calling his name. He tried to sit up but found he was still restrained. A new nurse was there with a cart. “I have your breakfast.” She pushed the button to raise the head of the bed. “I gotta pee,” Bill said without thinking. “Just let her rip in your diaper. I’ll change you right after breakfast.” She busied herself, putting the bib on him and proceeded to shovel food in him. She gave him the cup of water to suck from. He wanted coffee. She cleaned up the breakfast dishes and reached out and grabbed his crotch. “Wet yet?” “No!” he said with some annoyance. “Well, try to go while I put these dishes away. You’ll want to get changed. You have a lot of things on your schedule today.” She left, and he resigned himself to wetting himself. Yesterday he had no recollection of it happing, but now he found it hard to get started. Finally, he did and felt the warmth spreading across his crotch. This was silly. Why couldn’t they let him up to go to the bathroom? The nurse returned and felt his crotch. “Oh, good. I can change you now.” She lowered the bed again and proceeded to untape the diaper. Without his control, his penis became erect again. She matter of factly stopped her cleaning and reached over and grabbed the device. Zap. “You have to learn to control those urges,” she said. Dr. Girard came into the room. “He’s had his breakfast, and he’s urinated this morning,” the nurse explained. “Oh, and I had to knock down an erection.” “Yes, we’ll have to work on that later.” “When do I get out of here?” Bill said. “That’s up to your wife to decide. But you need to realize you’re going to be here a long time.” “I want to talk to April.” “She’ll be in later today. For now, we have a busy morning for you. We’re going to give you a pretty intensive physical examination. Then, if you behave, we’ll unstrap you for a while.” She turned to the nurse. “Let me take his temperature before you diaper him up.” The nurse stood back, and Dr. Girard approached him with a device. He felt it being forced into his ass. “Rectal is the only way for babies like this,” the doctor said to the nurse. The diaper was replaced. Dr. Girard spent some time looking into his eyes, ears, and mouth. She listened to him with her stethoscope. Blood pressures were taken, and blood was drawn. A technician arrived, and EKG leads were attached. After a couple of hours, the doctor announced that he was in excellent physical health. Now they would start on his mental health. She had the nurse remove the diaper. Dr. Girard came over with what appeared to be a condom with wires attached to it. Bill started to get erect and feared another zapping. “I’m not going to zap that away right now.” Bill felt relieved. “It will help with this next part.” The doctor threaded the condom over his penis. To his surprise, it didn’t cover the head of his penis. “This is a special monitoring and correction device. It can sense when you are having an erection like now and automatically correct it.” The doctor touched a few keys on a computer, and he heard a beep and then felt the electrical shock and saw the penis rapidly deflate. “See? It will fire automatically when it detects an erection at an inappropriate time. The staff can also administer a shock if you get out of line, so don’t push us.” Bill was devastated. No erections? This place was a torture chamber. “Now, do you think we can trust you if we unstrap you from the bed?” Bill nodded. “OK,” she said to the nurse. “Get him dressed and take him to lunch.” Finally, Bill thought. He realized he’d been strapped to this bed for eighteen hours. The nurse came back and slid a diaper under him. This one was cloth, and she was pinning it in place. “I thought I was getting dressed?” “You are, this is the first layer.” “I have to stay in diapers?” “Of course, you’re going to be in diapers for a long time.” Bill’s spirits sank. He had assumed the diaper was just because they had him tied to the bed. She slid a pair of plastic pants up his legs. “OK, I’m going to unstrap you now. Don’t try anything, or I’ll be forced to press this, and if you think the shock we gave you to knock down your erection was bad, you will learn what pain is.” Bill swallowed. She fastened the straps. “Do you think you can sit up?” Bill gingerly moved to a seated position. He was sore, but OK. She came over with some sort of a shirt and placed it over his head and pulled his arms through. “Now, try standing.” She took hold of his arms as he stood up. He wobbled a bit, falling slightly toward her. She used her body to block his fall. He felt her breasts press into his chest. He heard a beep. He knew his erection was rising. Then the zap came. “Sorry about that,” the nurse said. “I guess we couldn’t expect you not to react to that.” He was standing on his own now as she reached through his legs and snapped the bottom of the outfit together. He looked down. He had a loose outfit on that ballooned out to elastic openings around his thighs. “It’s called a bubble. All the stylish babies wear them.” Great. That wasn’t a style he aspired to. “Now, let’s go get you lunch. Come with me.” She took his hand. He hoped that this wasn’t going to trigger another erection and shock. It didn’t, and he was led out of the room he had been stuck in since his arrival. Once they cleared the intake wing, the décor changed from hospital clinic to more inline of a higher-end private school. He hadn’t seen much of it when the nurse directed him into a room. He did a double take when he entered. The room was full of what appeared to be large highchairs. A handful of others dressed like himself were seated in the chairs and either eating or being fed. The nurse put him in the chair and fastened a tray in front of him. She picked up a bib from the tray and put it around his neck. “We don’t want food all over your new outfit.” “Is all this necessary?” Bill asked. “Of course. This is how you handle babies.” “I’m not a baby,” Bill protested. “Of course, you are. Look at how you’re dressed. You’re wearing a diaper, which I think is probably in need of changing. Just like all these others.” She swept her hand around the room. Sure enough, they all were dressed up as adult toddlers as well. Some were now finishing up and being let out of the chairs. Their hands and faces were being cleaned up by the attendants. A tray of food was brought over to him. More baby food, but he was starving. He decided to let things go and eat. He swallowed the mush down as fast as it was presented to him. The nurse’s phone rang, and she picked it up. “We’re just finishing lunch. We’ll be down shortly.” “Your wife is here,” she said to Bill. Bill made a sigh of relief. He needed to talk to her. He needed to convince her to get him out of this crazy place. He let the nurse wipe his face and remove the bib. He quickly stood as the tray was removed. He had to pee. He figured he knew what the answer was going to be, so he didn’t even ask. He wet the diaper. The nurse came over and said, “All finished? We don’t have time to change now. Let’s get you to your wife.” He was slightly embarrassed that his urination had been detected. This place was insane. He was led down a set of stairs to what appeared to be a suite of offices. The nurse pushed the door open and directed him in. It was closed behind him. April was seated at the table. “Gee, April. It’s good to see you,” he said. “I wasn’t sure whether you would be glad to see me.” “Oh, April. I know we’ve had problems, but we can work things out.” “That’s a positive attitude,” April said, smiling. Bill always loved that smile. It was what brought April to his attention years ago when he met her at the office. He felt his erection going. He heard a subtle beep, but there was no cancelling electric shock. “Why don’t we go home, and we can talk about this.” April got a stern look. “No, dear. You need this.” Bill’s anger rose. “I’ve got to get out of here. I’m not spending any more time eating mush, peeing in diapers, and being chained to the bed.” “Calm down, Bill.” “Calm, down!” he said, getting louder. “How can I be calm?” April now looked a bit nervous. Suddenly the door opened, and Doctor Girard entered. “Bill,” the doctor said sternly. “Please sit down.” “I’m getting out of here!” Bill yelled at the doctor. “You can’t hold me hostage. It’s illegal. I’m getting a lawyer.” “Bill, please,” April pleaded. Bill pushed his way past the doctor and headed for the door. He got one step further, and suddenly his cock was on fire. He doubled over and fell to the floor. The door opened, and two more attendants helped him back to the chair. “Bill. Understand that you are not going anywhere. As you were told, that device in your diaper does more than just keep you from having inappropriate erections. I triggered what you just felt, but understand that if you go out of bounds in our facility, it will fire automatically.” Bill whimpered, “You can’t keep me here.” “We can. April legally had you committed to us.” “April, can’t we work something out?” April responded. “We will. But your attitude is just a bit too much for me to handle. I don’t know if I’d even feel safe having you home. It’s best that you stay with Dr. Girard for a while. Then we’ll revisit things.” Bill had a mix of emotions, anger, depression. Was he destined to stay in this place as a baby? “Let me explain where you are. Ideally, I’d have told you this when you were brought in, but it was late then. This institute is well equipped to take abusive and unfaithful husbands like you and reform them with the goal of reuniting them with their spouses. You started well at the beginning of this meeting. Wanting to cooperate with your wife is key. You even got an erection at an appropriate time. Maybe soon, she’ll be willing to let you make love to her.” Bill’s head was still spinning. “This will be the best thing for both of us,” April said. “Do try and cooperate with the staff here. It will speed things along if you don’t fight it.” Bill glared at her. “But I have to get back to work,” he protested. “You’re on a leave of absence. The company was glad to extend it when I explained you were getting treatment. I’ve taken over most of your projects.” “You have?” “Remember we used to work together? I even had a year more experience than you did when you decided I should stay home.” Great, Bill thought. She took his job and locked him in this nuthouse. Just how did she explain the treatment he was getting? What kind of treatment was he getting? His wife stepped around the table and hugged him, and then quickly left the room. He was back facing Dr. Girard. “You are doing well. Still, you lost your temper at your wife, and you need to work at that. Let’s get your diaper changed.” In all this, he had forgotten that he was sitting in a soggy diaper. He resigned himself to having it changed. The doctor led him back down to a treatment room and took the wet one off and cleaned him up with a wipe. Again, he started to get erect only to have the blasted thing on his dick zap it away. “You’ll get that under control soon,” the doctor said. “You’ve not had a bowel movement since you’ve been here. When was the last time you had one.” Bill thought about it for a second, “The morning you came and got me, I guess.” “Well, we shouldn’t let it pile up. Do you think you have to go now? If so, I’ll get you changed again right away.” Changed again? “You mean I have to poop in the diaper? Can’t I use the bathroom.” “I’m afraid not at this point.” “I don’t need to go that badly.” “Here, let me help.” The doctor retrieved something, and soon he felt it being pushed into his rear. The doctor did up the diaper. Bill didn’t know what to expect. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to leave you here tonight,” the doctor said. “But we won’t strap you to the bed again if you behave. You want a magazine or something?” “Sure,” Bill said. He wanted to see how the game turned out the other night but figured TV was out of the question. “Maybe a newspaper if you’ve got one around here.” The doctor disappeared, and a few minutes later, a nurse showed up with that day's morning paper and a copy of Sports Illustrated. Bill flipped to the sports section, but apparently, the game didn’t get over early enough to make the deadline. At least he had something to read. He then realized something was going on in his bowels. Whatever that bastard doctor had shoved in there was irritating things. He started to cramp up. He tried sitting down, and while the cramping abated a bit, it came right back. He stood up and yielded to the inevitable. He felt his bowels release into the diaper. This provided relief, yet now he had the unpleasantness of a diaper full of crap. Before he could even take that in, he felt something else happening. There was a tingling on his penis. He felt an erection growing, but no shock came. Indeed the feeling was getting more and more intense, and then he came hard. Now, this was a mixed feeling. Without thinking, he collapsed into a chair when it was over. He regretted that immediately as the poop squished all over him. A moment later, the nurse entered. “I think someone needs a change.” “How did you know?” Bill asked. “The thing in your diaper senses it. The same way it knew to give you a happy ending after you pooped.” The nurse spread out an underpad on the bed, and Bill climbed up on it. He thought as the nurse started peeling the sticky diaper off him. “Do you mean this thing made me ejaculate because it sensed me pooping?” “Precisely. Just as it delivers aversive shocks to thwart improper behavior, it can provide pleasurable stimulus to reward good behavior.” “Pooping myself is good behavior?” “It is for you at this point. We’re trying to get you used to the concept.” “Used to?” “You’re going to be in diapers for a while. At least for as long as you are here.” “How long am I going to be here.” “That’s for your doctors and your wife to determine. Behave yourself and learn, and you’ll be out sooner.” Doctor Girard entered after a bit. “We’re going to progress you into the general population. In the morning, you’ll have classes, in the afternoon you’ll have labs.” “Class? Labs?” “You’re here to learn. You’ll be instructed in cooking, cleaning, laundry.” The doctor started. “So, you’re going to domesticate me?” “We do what your guardian wants, but most want the basics. They get to select any specific additional areas as well.” “My guardian?” “Your wife. She went to court this morning to get full control of your care. What had been your temporary commitment papers are now permanent. Your wife is calling the shots.” The doctor led him out of the infirmary. “Here’s your schedule,” she said, handing him a paper. “We’ll get the rest of your situation straightened out later. You have one class before lunch.” She led him to a door, and he went into a classroom. He chose a seat near the rear, and soon others started to file in. Most were men, dressed as he was. There were a few girls. One man sat next to him. “New guy?” he asked. “Yeah, the name’s Bill,” he said, holding out his hand. “Mikey,” responded the man. The teacher came in and started lecturing. “Today’s subject is hand washing of delicate fabrics.” It was boring as hell to Bill, but he figured he’d better pay attention. Afterward, he followed Mikey to the lunchroom. As they stood in line, they were joined by a boy and a girl. The girl had long red hair, yet there was something odd about her. Bill tried not to stare, but suddenly an erection started and was zapped away. The others started to laugh. “Don’t worry,” Mikey said. In time, you’ll get conditioned, and that won’t happen.” Bill was embarrassed that all seemed to know what has happening inside his diaper. He tried to make light of it. “I guess I wasn’t expecting girls to be here.” Now the redhead started to blush “I’ll let you in on something,” she said in a feminine voice. She then leaned forward and spoke in a quiet, deeper voice. “I’m not a girl.” “There aren’t any female patients here,” Mikey explained. “Anyone who appears to be a girl is just being sissified.” “Oh,” was all Bill could say. He looked around. Maybe a quarter of the group were in dresses and various stages of feminization. “It’s all up to what their guardians choose.” The staff came, and while some students were directed to tables, Bill was led to a high chair. Strapped in and the tray placed in front of him, the attendant placed a bib around him. She brushed across him while doing this, and this triggered another erection to be zapped away. She brought him some food and proceeded to shovel it into his mouth. She wiped his mouth and took the tray and bib away and returned with a bottle. She then led him to a dormitory full of cribs. “Nap time.” He sucked on the bottle and dozed off. Soon a woman was tugging at him. “Billy? Billy?” He sat up. “Yeah?” “It’s time for your lab class. I’m your instructor.” She let him out of the crib and led him into a room filled with washing machines. “I suspect you’re new to all this.” Bill nodded. “Well, as you get better, we’ll get you more varied stuff to wash, but we always start the new patients out on diapers. Start by taking the stuff in the dryer and putting it on the table. We’ll fold those later.” He did that, moving a load of diapers to the table. “Now move the clean, but wet diapers out of the washer into the dryer.” He did, and she told him how to set it to run. He then was directed to a container of used diapers. He moved the smelly, wet diapers into the washer. Were some of these his? It didn’t matter. Once he got the machine loaded, the instructor taught him how to add the detergent and bleach and start the machine. “You’ll want to wash your hands now.” He did and returned, she showed him how to fold, and he followed. She told him he could do a better job, so he shook it out and did it again. He proceeded with the entire load. She would, from time to time, take one he had finished and decide it wasn’t done neatly enough, and he had to redo it. After a bit, he had a nice stack of clean and folded diapers. She showed him a cart to store the stack on. She spent the next portion of time showing him around the laundry, explaining the machines and products being used. A machine buzzed, and he learned it was time to repeat the process. “With the number of diapers you babies go through, we keep loads going continuously.” This time he did better with the folding. “Keep it up, and we’ll move you up to doing the plastic pants.” His time was up after the second load. He was redirected to a large kitchen. Having come from diaper duty, he wondered if he was going to be cooking baby food. The new instructor had him sit at a stool, and she sat next to him. He realized he was in for a zapping, and it came. He hoped Mikey was right, and he’d stop doing this. “Have you ever cooked anything?” she asked him. “I’ve cooked a few burgers and steaks on the grill,” he admitted. “Do you know what your wife’s favorite dinner is? Favorite dessert?” Bill sheepishly admitted he had no idea. “I thought not. I’ve got some suggestions from her here. Oriental chicken salad, triple chocolate mousse cake.” She rattled off several more, but Bill had no clue how to make any of this stuff. “All too advanced for you at this point. She did suggest a simple pasta dish. That we can start you with.” So, the instructor led him to starting the water for the pasta. While they were waiting for that to boil, she gave him an onion, a pepper, and some tomatoes to cut up and instructed him on how to do it. He added the pasta to the water, and then they started sautéing the ingredients. She had him taste it. “Now, we season.” She showed him how to mince some garlic and add salt and herbs. He tasted it again. Yes, he could detect the difference. He drained the pasta and then put it on plates. He spooned some of the sauce on top. “Not the neatest presentation, and I’ve seen far better chopping jobs, but you’ll get there in time. Let’s taste it.” Bill realized this was the first adult food he had since he was there and enjoyed it. Classes progressed. He learned about how to clean and was given jobs around the facility to clean. Sure enough, he did progress to plastic pants in the laundry, and then to other clothes. The morning lectures ranged from caring for various fabrics, how to cook various things, and cleaning tips. He was indeed getting erections knocked down less and less. He looked forward to releasing the pressure from his bowels and getting rewarded for it. He still dreaded the eventual clean up after it was done. April visited again. He pleaded with her to take him from this place, but she said she didn’t feel he was ready. He had a massive erection during the visit at the sight of her. This was the one time they didn't knock it down as soon as it came. He wanted nothing more than to rip off the diaper and April’s clothes and satisfy his desire. “You’re still not ready,” April said, and the visit was over. Two new classes were added. He was learning how to sew. They had given him a pattern for a new outfit for him to wear. “Your wife doesn’t want to turn you into a sissy girl, but dresses are easier, and she said she’d love to see you wear one just for kicks.” On this, he learned all the basics of cutting patterns, sewing by hand, and on the machine. An unexpected class was on female sexuality. He’d not much bothered himself with the concept in the past other than worrying if April was going to have an orgasm when they were having sex. This class was another time when they allowed the students to get erections during the discussions. There was even an odd lab where he learned how to do things on an anatomically correct manikin. Occasionally, a student would disappear. They would have progressed enough to be released. Bill wondered when that day would happen to him. His sewing had improved. He’d finished the dress, tried it on, and made alterations. One day, Dr. Girard came to him, holding his dress. “You’ve done a very nice job on this.” “Thanks,” he said. “Put it on for me.” Bill took off his romper and put on the dress. “Nice,” Dr. Girard said. But you need some bloomers. She went to a cabinet and came back with a pair that complemented the dress, and Bill stepped into them and pulled them up. He looked in the mirror. He was a toddler girl, the bloomers peeking out fro the hem of his dress. “There’s someone who needs to see this,” the doctor said. He was taken to a room he hadn’t yet visited. The doctor sent him in. “April!” he cried. “I’ve missed you.” They hugged. April was there in a satin dress. She looked gorgeous. He was happy that the erection came and wasn’t knocked down. “I’ve missed you, too.” Let me look at you. She stood back and regarded the dress. She made a circular motion with her finger, and he twirled around. She giggled. “You made this?” “I did.” Bill now had time to look at the room. It wasn’t the visitation room he had been in before. The lights were softer, and there as a bed on one side. They kissed, and April moved to the bed. Bill realized this was to be a conjugal visit. He came to her. “Are you going to take the diaper off?” he asked. “I heard you’ve been learning other techniques.” He had. He brushed her hair back and gently stood her up. He turned her and slowly unzipped the dress. He took it off her and carefully folded it. April was impressed. He’d have just tossed it before. He even folded it properly. He led her back to the bed and slowly slid her panties down. He moved his head between her legs and started to work on her. It was odd not being able to be satisfied himself, but he took pleasure in bring his wife to orgasm. Was this what all this was about? Afterward, he laid next to her and stroked her hair. “Have fun?” he asked. “Yes.” She then ran her fingers through his hair. “I guess you deserve this.” She reached down to what he had thought was a watch, but it was a remote with two buttons. One undoubtedly triggered the pain generator. She pressed the other. He felt the tingle. She had triggered the positive reinforcement. Soon he came. After a brief chat, April helped him back into his dress. He thought maybe she would be taking him from this place, but she pushed a button, and an attendant took him back to his crib. The days progressed, and he continued to learn all manner of domestic talents. His cooking classes moved into making meals for the staff. Dr. Girard came to him one morning. “I want to introduce you to a colleague, Dr. Francis. She’ll be doing some testing on you today.” Initially, Bill thought she might draw blood, but she started pulling out various things, and he realized it was psychological testing. She slid over a booklet. “I want you to answer these truthfully. If you write down what you think we want as answers, we’ve inserted tests to check for that sort of behavior.” Bill sat down. The first question, “I’d rather go to a football game than a flower show.” Well, they asked for the truth. “True.” “I’d rather go to a concert with my wife than a baseball game alone.” He paused. He did miss his wife. “True.” He progressed through this, not sure what the point was or how he fared. This was followed up with regular Rorschach ink blots. Then more and varied tests. Finally, Dr. Francis said, “That will be it. Thank you for your cooperation. I have what I need.” “How’d I do?” Bill asked. “Well, enough.” Bill went back to the common room. He hoped maybe they would be letting him out soon. He met one of the friends he made. He described the testing. “I’m hoping they’re thinking of springing me.” “Perhaps,” his friend said. “I’ve been here so long. I’m using the diaper without thinking about it. I suddenly realize I’m getting the reward signal and then realized I pooped.” “I think that’s the point.” “Hmm.” He started on a new sewing project. It was another dress, but it was not sized for him. Still, the fabric was nice, and he liked the design. He also moved on to baking in cooking class. There was a lot of chocolate involved. He was happy because all he could taste in cooking class was his break from the baby food they fed him at other times. One day they blocked him out a long time in the kitchen. He was given an entire meal to prepare. He had done this before. He’d serve staff, both the cooking teacher and Dr. Girard meals. He got everything ready to go on the serving cart. Dr. Girard came in as he finished preparing the food. “If you have everything loaded, I’ve got an outfit to change you into.” She held it up. It was your stereotypical maid’s dress but short enough to expose his diaper. He switched into it. She led him to a room set with a table. Dr. Girard sat at one place. Then his wife came into the room. She was wearing the dress he had just finished. “Oh, hi, April.” “Hi, Bill.” He served the first course. He waited quietly at the side while Dr. Girard and April had a conversation. Much was about him, but he remained quiet. He cleared the first course and set out the main. Again, he retreated to the fringe. He cleared the main course and brought out dessert. April tasted hers. “This is my favorite, and you did such a good job on it,” she said to Bill. Bill had a small amount of pride. “Thank you.” “Do you think you’re ready to come home with me?” Bill started paying attention now. “I would love that.” “Dr. Girard feels you are ready. It was confirmed with recent testing.” He thought back to Dr. Francis. So that’s what tall this was about. “So, she gave me a clean bill of health?” “She thinks you don’t need this restrictive environment. You’re still under the court order, but it will be revised to give guardianship to April.” Bill decided not to argue. At least he was going home. He cleared the plates back onto the service cart. April stood up and said, “Then, let’s go.” She started toward the door. “Do I get to change first?” “Is your diaper dirty?” “No, I mean, like different clothes.” “There’s nothing really for you to change into. You’ve got that dress, the other one you made, and the baby clothes you’ve been wearing. Besides. I like what you’ve got on.” Bill sighed and followed. Alice went and stood by the passenger side of their car. He had been drilled in etiquette as part of his training. He promptly stepped over and opened the door for her. He waited until she got in and closed it. He then went and got in the driver’s seat. “I’m not sure where I am,” he said. “Oh, yes. I guess you were out of it when they brought you in. Head out the driveway and turn right. It will take you out to the main highway.” Once on the highway, Bill knew the way home. He drove home mostly in silence. After pulling into the drive, he hopped out and opened the door for April. As they walked toward the house, Jane, their neighbor, called out. “I see you’ve got Bill back from rehab.” Bill turned red. This was the first time anybody he knew other than April had seen him dressed this way. “Yes, it will be nice having him home. We’ll have to have you and Mike over for dinner. Bill’s gotten to be a great cook.” Bill felt a mix of embarrassment and pride at the compliment. “I’ve got to get him inside. It’s been a long drive from the Center, and I’m sure his diaper needs changing.” Jane chuckled and waved goodbye. Bill was still blushing with embarrassment. “Did you have to say that?” “Oh, Jane, knows all about that. She’s been considering the same treatment for Mike. Come on, let’s get you changed.” She led him to the spare bedroom, which was now fitted with a crib and changing table. He got up on the table. April set to cleaning him up. As she worked over his penis, she said, “If you behave yourself, I’ll have them remove the electronics from your cock. If you don’t behave, I may have them remove your cock.” Bill cringed. After she had put a new diaper on him, he asked. “What do you want from me?” “I want you to behave. I want you to take care of me. I’ll be busy making money. You can cook, clean, do laundry. You’ll sleep in the crib except when I decide I want you in my bed.” “And this?” he said, holding up the hem of the skirt. “You’ll keep on wearing and using the diaper, and whatever clothes I tell you to wear. Dr. Girard says, you should be used to going by now.” Bill had to admit that even if he wanted to switch to underwear, it would take some toilet training at this point. She slid open the closet door. There were a few more maid’s dresses and the dress he made. There were also a few of the bubble rompers he’d been wearing. He knew now that even though he was at home, things weren’t going to be the same. “How about getting me a glass of wine. You can have one, too.” Bill went to the wine fridge in the kitchen and pulled out a bottle and poured. They drank in silence before April announced that she had to be up at six, and that Bill should have coffee then. She headed off for the bedroom. Bill took the glasses to the kitchen and then went to the nursery and climbed into the crib. He awoke to see bars. He remembered he’d been in the Center. Then he remembered he was home. He got up and checked the clock. Quarter to six. He slipped the maid’s dress back on and went to the kitchen and fired up the coffee maker. He watched as the brown liquid dribbled into the carafe. He grabbed two cups and poured. He put milk in April’s and went to the bedroom and tapped on the door. “I have coffee.” “Come in.” He walked in and set the coffee down next to her. She roused and smiled. “I’ll shower, and then I’d like a poached egg on toast.” He drank his coffee with her. Even with her hair a mess from just having awoken, she was beautiful. She headed off to the bathroom. He got the eggs and bread ready and waited until he heard the shower stop and then started making breakfast. His timing was perfect as he had just plated her breakfast as she emerged from the bedroom. She sat down, and he set out a second cup of coffee for her. She ate her breakfast and then announced she’d release him from the diaper long enough to shower. He quickly showered. This was the first one he’d had since he had gone to the Center. They had only given him supervised baths there. He toweled dry, and she came and put the diaper back on him while he shaved. He kissed her goodbye as she headed to the office. Now, what to do? He put on a clean maid’s dress and took the other to the laundry. There was enough of a white load to start, so he got that going. He made an inventory of the laundry and then checked around for cleaning supplies. He went to the kitchen and created a grocery list. He’d need to go shopping today, but at this point, he needed to work up the guts to go out in one of the outfits available to him. He had another cup of coffee. He dug through the desk and found the card for his attorney. He called and asked the secretary if he might speak to the attorney. “Hi, Bill,” the familiar voice came on the line. “Are you back home now?” The attorney knew something about his predicament. “Yes. Could you tell me where I am legally in all this?” “Well, I helped April get the guardianship papers. You’ve got pretty severe problems according to the psychiatric evaluations I saw.” “I’m fine.” “Well, you may be able to prove otherwise eventually, but for right now, the court believes you’re incompetent to handle your own affairs. Your wife is in control.” Bill mulled this over. “I was afraid of that. Thanks for the information.” The washing machine chimed, and Bill transferred the load to the dryer. He sorted through the dirty laundry and picked out some delicates and tossed them in with yesterday’s maid’s outfit. He cleaned up the breakfast dishes and was hungry. He made himself a sandwich. At least he got off baby food. The wine last night had been the first alcohol he’d had since this started. He figured he couldn’t put off shopping any longer. He headed back to the nursery and tried to figure out the least embarrassing outfit. Perhaps one of the rompers. The doorbell rang. He made his way to the door and looked through the peephole. It was Jane. He let her in. “Hi, Jane,” he said. “April said I should check in on you from time to time. I have the instructions on how to do diaper changes. What are you up to?” “I was getting ready to go to the grocery. I was just trying to find something to wear.” “What’s wrong with what you have on? I’ve got to go shopping, too. Want to come along?” Bill resigned himself. It was as good as any. He went out and held the door open for Jane. She smiled. I drove us to the store and promptly opened the door to allow her out. “I could get used to this treatment,” Jane said. They got carts and started shopping. Bill felt exposed being there in the short dress. Air rushed around his bare legs, and he felt that everybody was watching. They made their way through produce and got to the meat counter. “Hi, Sam. Got any good pork chop today?” “Just cut some,” the butcher said, holding up one on display. “Who’s your maid?” “This is April’s husband.” “How is April? I’ve not seen her in a while.” “She’s gone back to work. Bill here will be doing the shopping now.” The butcher just smiled at Bill. He felt small. As they made their way through the aisles, they passed a mother with a little boy in tow. The boy’s eyes opened wide at the sight of Bill. He started tugging at his mother’s leg and pointing at Bill. Once she realized what was up, she told him not to point. “That man is wearing a dress.” “Some men do that,” the mother said. As they passed, the boy looked up at Bill’s padded rear. “He’s wearing a diaper.” “Well, if you don’t stop wetting the bed, you might have to wear a diaper, too.” The mother hustled the boy off to the next aisle. They paid for the items and headed home. Bill helped Jane carry her purchases in, and she followed him to his house and helped him carry his in. She volunteered to change his diaper, and Bill had to agree that he needed it. They went to the nursery, and she undid his diaper. He was nervous, expecting an erection and the correction shock. It didn’t come, however. All this time, getting changed by women had gotten him conditioned he figured. Jane left, and he went and folded the laundry. There were a few things that needed ironing, so he did that. He took April’s clothes and put them away in the bedroom. He hung up the now clean maid’s dress. He prepped dinner so it would be quickly cooked when April came home. Came home, she did. “What a day!” she proclaimed. Bill went and poured a glass of white wine for her, and she smiled. “What’s for dinner.” “Pork chops in an apple sauce. It will take about twenty minutes to prepare. I’ve got everything staged.” April smiled. “I want to change out of this suit. Could you help me?” Bill didn’t know what help she would need, but as she removed the articles, he carefully folded them and set them on the dresser. She removed her blouse and then sat on the bed. He looked at her and then realized what she wanted. He went over and slid her panties down, and she spread her legs, and he took care of her needs. “I’ll put on something comfortable. You go get dinner ready.” They had dinner and more wine, but in the end, Bill headed off to his crib. The next morning, he repeated the previous day’s coffee making and breakfast. As he headed off to the shower, she said, “My car needs to go in. Can you drive me to work and then take care of that?” “No problem.” He dressed in one of the rompers. He didn’t need to be hanging around the car dealership in the maid’s dress. He drove her to work and kissed her goodbye as she went into the building. “Call me and let me know how it turns out.” He headed to the dealership. The service writer was a woman. “Cute outfit,” she said. He waited for the car to be done. It took almost two hours. After paying for it, he got in and called April. “Done already? Great. Say, why don’t you meet me for lunch. Just stop by my office. You know where it is. I’m in your old one.” “OK. See you at noon.” He knew what she was up to. He’d have to pass all of his old coworkers going in to get her. At least he was wearing the romper and not a dress. He got to the office and waived at the receptionist, who smiled back. He was making his way quickly to his old office when someone called out to him. “Bill!” “Oh, hi, Pete.” “It’s been a while. How are you doing?” “About as well as can be expected.” “I heard you were in some sort of rehab. April’s doing a great job, by the way.” “Yeah. Thanks.” “What’s the getup you’ve got on?” “April’s idea,” was all he could say and moved along. He got back to his office, and his old secretary stood as he arrived. “Oh, that’s a really cute outfit. Never realized you had such great legs,” she said. “I’ll get April.” She giggled as she went into his old office, and a second later, April emerged. They met more of his old coworkers on the way out. Everybody now knew that he was a kept man. A man kept in toddler clothes. They had lunch, and Bill returned April to the office. He moped around the house for the rest of the day. The next day after April left for work, the doorbell rang. He assumed it was Jane again and just opened it. It was Dr. Girard. “Hi, Bill. Things going well?” “As well as can be expected, I guess.” “I’m here to remove the training device. April says she thinks you’re gotten past needing it.” “Good.” He led her to the nursery, and she pulled off the plastic pants. She disconnected the small control unit that had been stuck to the small of his back for a long time. She removed the diaper and poured some liquid on a pad. “This is just alcohol. It will dissolve the adhesive on the electrodes.” She took to dabbing it on his penis. She started to peel off the sheath that encased him, applying more alcohol along the way. Finally, it was off. She used some cream on his shaft. “This is just to counter any irritation. You should be fine by this afternoon.” She replaced the diaper. He was happy to be rid of the silly thing. Now he could change himself and bathe or shower without assistance. “Thanks, Doc.” April called later and suggested, as it was Friday, that they go out to dinner and a movie. Bill hadn’t even realized what day of the week it was. All time sense had been lost at the Center. Sure. “Put on your nice dress.” April came home and changed into the dress that he had made her. They weren’t matching outfits, but they were tied together. They had dinner. After they went to the theater, April announced she had to use the Ladies room and suggested Bill get the popcorn. “I guess there’s some advantage to having a diaper on,” he said. After the movie, they returned home. April led him to the bedroom and allowed him to unzip her dress. He took it as she stepped out of it and folded it neatly. She unzipped him. “Now, come to bed.” They made mutual love for the first time in a long time. They laid there in each other’s arms for a bit, and then Bill said. “I better put a diaper back on. I’m not sure I won’t have an accident.” “OK, but come right back.” He went and put a clean one on and returned to her. “You can sleep with me from now on.” “I’d like that.” “You’ve been great since you came back from the center.” “I’ve hoped you’ve enjoyed my new behavior.” “I do. I’d like it to continue.” “What part?” “All of it. The being polite. The taking care of me. Cooking and housework. Even the diapers and dresses.” Bill swallowed hard, but he looked at April. She was beautiful. And he did love her. “Yes, whatever you desire.” A week later, Jane and Mike were invited over for dinner. Bill had planned steaks and potatoes and green beans. He had made chocolate mousse for dessert as he had heard it was Jane’s favorite. He handed out drinks, wine for the girls, and beers for him and Mike. He picked up the plate of steaks and headed out to the backyard to the grill he had already prepared. Mike followed him. “So, how long are you going to play this game?” Mike asked. “What game?” “Playing little Miss Homemaker in a diaper?” “Oh, for some time, I guess. As long as April is still into it.” “I’d never let Jane get me into one of those outfits.” “I didn’t have much of a choice.” Mike just shook his head. “I never imagined you’d end up, so pussy whipped like this.” Bill let the comments go. He flipped the steaks, and then when they were done, he took them back in to finish. They had a great dinner. He had to say that he had become an excellent cook through this. While April wasn’t bad, he thought me might be better. Bill collected the dinner plates. “I’ll get the desserts.” Bill was surprised that Jane stood to help him. They carried the dishes into the kitchen. Bill got the desserts out of the refrigerator, and Jane took two, and he brought the other two. They returned to the table. Jane launched into hers. “This is fabulous. I’ve not had chocolate mousse in years, and this is excellent.” “Thank you,” Bill said. Suddenly, Mike started tugging at his shirt collar. “I feel funny,” he said. He stood and took a few steps and then collapsed on the couch. Jane winked at Bill. Bill knew what was happening. “Dr. Girard will be here in a few minutes,” April announced. Mike still looked confused. He tried to speak, but it just came out as a grunt. “If you haven’t figured it out yet. You’re going to the Center as Bill did. You’re going to learn how to be an excellent husband like him.” More grunts out of Mike. “Not just cooking and cleaning either. You’ll learn how to treat a woman right.” Jane sat down on the sofa next to her husband. She pulled up her skirt and slid down her panties. “Show him,” she said to Bill. Bill looked at April. April just nodded. Bill got down between Jane’s legs and went to work on her. As Jane came, Bill looked at Mike. There was a rage in his eyes, but he couldn’t even manage a grunt at this point. The doorbell rang, and April went to answer it. Dr. Girard and the two attendants came in with the stretcher. Dr. Girard did a quick examination of Mike. “You better get him stripped down and diapered. Be ready to intubate him if his breathing gets rough.” “He’s incapacitated. You can sign for him.” Jane quickly signed the papers. Jane turned to Mike. “There. You are committed to the Center. I’ll see you once they get you admitted.” Mike’s eyes had shifted from rage to sadness. He looked as if he would sob if he could. They wheeled him out on the stretcher to the ambulance. Dr. Girard said she’d call once they had him at the Center. April turned to Jane. “Well, you did it.” “Yes, I did. I wasn’t sure I could. I’m glad you two were here to help.” “I feel bad for him,” Bill said. “I mean, not that he’s headed to the center, but he had to watch me do you.” “Don’t feel too bad,” Jane said. “He’s been screwing his secretary. He’s going to have to assess his priorities.” Jane thanked them again and made her way home. Bill and April headed to bed. “Do you think those two will be alright in the long term?” April asked. “If he loves her, the Center will remind him of that and give him the skills he needs for their relationship. If he doesn’t, it could be very hard on the two of them.” “How was it with you?” “I may have been a bit selfish in the past, but I love you with all my heart. I’m glad to be home, and I’m glad to make you happy, whatever it takes.” April smiled. “Then you don’t mind being kept.” “Not at all. It was embarrassing at first, and it probably will still be at times. The diapers aren’t my favorite.” “Well, someday, I’ll let you get toilet trained. But for now, I think they’re helping.” “I don’t mind that much.” “Well, then. Take me to bed.”

True that. The people getting upset are the one's not reading it. I tagged it just to try and be a little more respectful. While i'm definitely not setting it up as a fap fantasy, crimes against children is a sensitive topic, especially for parents. Which one was the Pariah? There was a couple you wrote that I really liked. Today was my mom’s turn to take the stand. She looked a little pale, but other than that she kept her head up high. She had wanted me to stay home for this, but there were certain things we had never talked about. I never had gotten a straight answer as to why she had taken Debbie’s word at face value and not mine. I had begged her to call the clinic Debbie had taken me to. One phone call. That’s all it would have taken for Debbie’s story to begin to unravel. My dad sat with me as we took our seats. It was the first time I had been so close to our former friends and neighbors, who wore “Free Debrah”, “Exodus 20:16” and “Proverbs 12:22” on their shirts. I looked it up on my phone the first time I had seen them, and they were scripture about “bearing false witness against your neighbor” and “God hates liars.” “Don’t pay them any mind.” My dad leaned over towards me and whispered. “Look at all the people here.” I looked to where my dad was pointing. The free Debrah lot were certainly the minority today. The only ones left at this point were the hardcore believers. When the trial had first started, they had packed the courtroom, but now as medical reports, eye witness accounts, and bank statements appeared, they began to dwindle one by one. It gave me great satisfaction to see Debbie’s smug face begin to crease as she looked for her supporters. The thing that made my blood boil wasn’t the defense trying to discredit my statement, and it wasn’t Debbie’s supporters calling me a liar as I took my seat. It was the ones who had left, more specifically what it had taken them to leave. Was it the evidence of Ethylene Glycol in my blood work? Nope. Was it the murder and attempted murder of her husband and sons? Nope, Think again. It was money. It all boiled down to money. She had been telling everyone who would listen James’s medical bills were running her to the ground. When it was revealed that the state was picking up the tab and Debbie hadn’t spent a cent of donation money towards him, that’s when shit began to hit the fan. I knew Debbie’s motivations were deeper than monetary gain. I had a suspicion money was never the driving force, but more like an added bonus. In fact, I don’t think I ever saw her ask for money despite complaining of money issues. Someone else had set up the go fund me in her name, someone else organized all the fundraisers. I think Debbie just wanted the attention, and sympathy. What no one seemed to be able to wrap their heads around was why me? Debbie had all the love, and attention and money she could get her hands on from Jame’s illness. She had spent years perfecting her story and her method. Why take such a huge risk, and a sloppy one at that, knowing my parents were coming back for me? It’s not like they wouldn’t notice I had dropped nearly 20 pounds in a month. What did she think, that they would congratulate me on my diet? A very small part of me wonders if she did it so she would get caught. Maybe she didn’t want to kill James, but knew she couldn’t stop herself? Or maybe she was just so bat shit crazy and high on getting away with it for so long she thought she was invincible. I want to believe she poisoned me because she knew I’d run and tell anyone who would listen. Unfortunately it boiled down to the fact that I was 12 with a track record for acting out and she was a beloved member of the community. Yesterday the defense tried to claim the faucet in the kitchen was full of lead, and without knowing, they had all been ingesting it for years. They explained why Debbie hadn’t gone sick, but her husband, Jackson and James had. Paul must have passed on a genetic marker that made them more susceptible to heavy metal poisoning. Since Debbie didn’t have that genetic marker, she was oblivious to the symptoms it was causing. When Mr. Montgomery questioned why then I had gotten sick so quickly, the defense stated my illness was unrelated. Angry that my family had left me, I must have decided to make myself a banana and antifreeze smoothie in an attempt to make them come back. Yummy. According to the defense, I liked the attention so damn much I did it two more times. I had to ask myself, who was on trial for munchausen again here? Because last time I checked my go to after school snack had been a Pb & J sandwich and a cup of chocolate milk, hold the engine coolant. My mom was about ready to take a swing at him. Thankfully Mr. Montgomery had a witness to dispel that theory. It was one of the nurses from the clinic Debbie kept taking me too. Debbie had made a miscalculation the first time she poisoned my water and took me in to get treated. She hadn’t expected calcium oxalate, the creator of the most common form of kidney stones, to be in my urine so fast. She had expected the doctor to give me a half assed exam given my age and lack of medical history, and write me off as another case of the flu. That’s where the nurse's testimony came in handy, and why Debbie had wanted my pee so bad the first day. She couldn’t just give her urine and say it was mine since she was diabetic. So she had helped me again and she swapped the sample when she had taken me to the bathroom. So while the test had come back normal, the nurse had mentioned to the doctor she had doubts the urine was a fresh sample. I don’t know how she knew that, I don’t go around holding cups of people’s pee all day. So instead of relying solely on that, they had ordered a blood test, but Debbie never took me to get it done. On the third and final visit, Debbie knew she fucked up. “Are you nervous?” dad asked. I nodded. I must have been one little hell raiser back then for no one to have believed me. I watched as my mom was sworn in, and the questioning began. Objections were flying left and right, and it was hard to keep track with everyone yelling at each other. Words were thrown around like “sustained” and “overruled”, and several times the judge made them rephrase their questions. I was impressed by my mom’s composure. I think it was taking all her willpower to keep it together at the underlining accusation that they put their vacation over my health. “Did Debrah tell you your daughter was sick at all while you were away?” “Yes.” “In your own words, what did she tell you?” “She told me the next day she ate a bunch of junk food, got too worked up and got sick. She made it clear it wasn’t anything serious.” “And what did your daughter tell you?” “When I talked to her a few days later she said her stomach was hurting a lot and she had been throwing up the last couple of days.” “Why a few days later? Didn’t you talk to her the day Debbie told you she was sick?” “No.” My mom admitted. “Why? Didn’t you want to make sure she was ok?” “Everytime I asked to speak with her I was told she either wasn’t there or was sleeping.” “She didn’t have a cell phone you could call?” “Debbie said she had taken her cell phone away for bad behavior.” “That didn’t raise any red flags for you?” “No.” “Why?” “Because at the time my daughter was a handful. I had told Debbie to punish her if need be. Confiscating her cellphone would have been a logical thing to do.” “So when you heard her story was quite a bit different than what you had been told, what did you do?” “I called Debbie on her cell phone.” “And what did she say?” “That Eliza had been healthy, but acting out. The same thing she told me the first time I heard she had been sick.” “And you took Debbie’s word for it, no questions asked?” “No.” I sat up surprised. I had always assumed Mom bought everything Debbie sold her. “What did you do?” “I asked to speak with my youngest daughter, Lily.” “How old was Lily at the time?” “Four.” “What did Lily tell you?” “That she was having fun.” “Did you ask about Eliza?” “I did.” “What did she say?” “I asked if Eliza had been sick and she said ‘No.’” I remembered the moment when Lily told mom I was fine. She had been sitting right next to me as I moaned in pain and threw up on myself just an hour before. With my cellphone in Debbie’s custody, it had taken all my will power and strength to get up and get the phone. It was the first time I had talked to my mom on the phone and 90% of it was her yelling at me. When I told her how sick I really was she said she would ask Debbie about it. I had never heard their conversation, but I had heard Lily’s. My own little sister had sold me out for 20 minutes on the trampoline. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………….. I was starting to suspect something wasn’t right, and I wanted to investigate. By day three I was feeling much better. I was walking around pain free, and no longer having issues with my stomach. My only complaint was my constant need to pee thanks to the medication and volume of water I had been drinking. I had only been diapered that one day so Debbie could check for stones. I knew something was wrong that first afternoon when Debbie began to pull down the front of the diaper before taping it shut again. “Lily, do you want to go jump? Go in the backyard and I’ll meet you out there in a minute after I finish with your sister.” “Jump! Jump!” Lily yelled as she bolted from the room. “Have you started your periods yet?” “Yeah.” “Are you on it now?” “No, not for another two weeks, why?” “There’s a little blood, I wasn’t sure if you were squeamish or not, that’s why we’re doing it this way. How’s your pain level?” “A six.” “Do you want to go lay down in bed? It will be easier than getting up and down off the couch.” I nodded. The aching in my body was almost unbearable. I wanted to help James, but I couldn’t do it like this. I almost didn’t care that I was 75% sure Debbie had been talking to my mom on the phone despite her telling me I must have dreamed it. “AHA!” Debbie said. She showed me something on the tip of her finger. It was so small I could barely see it, but when I focused my eyes, there was a tiny grey speck. “This was the culprit,'' she said. I took it and examined it closer. It was hard and sharp. She set it aside, “Hopefully, that was it and you’ll start feeling better now.” It hadn’t been it. My day had been spent curled in a ball in bed with the heating pad, until I had finally peed out two more. That's when things had begun to calm down. When I got up the next day, I could almost move pain free. I took another day off school just in case and spent it peeing into a strainer over the toilet. No more stones came out. Tomorrow I knew I’d be going back to school so when I wasn’t peeing my brains out, I was snooping. The problem was I had no idea what I was looking for. There were pill bottles everywhere in the kitchen, and they all said James’s name on them. I went through the cupboards, the bedrooms, the drawers, the kitchen, the fridge, the living room. I gave up. Without knowing just what I was looking for, it seemed impossible. Instead of snooping, I’d have to go straight to the source. I asked Debbie if I could watch how she took care of James. I was curious after all and I asked a lot of questions. “Can he really not eat or drink?” I asked as we went into his bedroom. I had watched her chop up what looked like ten different pills into a fine powder, mix it with a little water, and suck it up with a large syringe. “That’s right, that’s why he spends so much time here connected to this.” James was lying in bed, connected to a machine which was threaded with small tubing. I watched in interest as what looked like milk was pushed through the tubing by spinning widgets and into a separate tube coming out of the side of his chest underneath his armpit. “Since he can’t eat, this machine delivers nutrients straight into his veins. This is called a central venous catheter and this is a TPN machine. It means Total Parenteral Nutrition. Without it, he’d starve.” I was surprised when James made eye contact with me and clicked his tongue twice. I blinked. “I think he’s trying to say hello! Didn’t you guys used to make that sound a lot when you were kids? That’s so sweet! He remembers!” He clicked his tongue once more before looking away. It meant something, I knew it did, but I struggled to remember. I felt better physically, but my head was still foggy. I watched as Debbie pulled the blanket down a little more to reveal another tube coming out of his stomach. She flipped the cap open and began injecting the crushed pills inside. “What were all those for?” I asked. “Oh different things. Seizures, iron supplement, pain medication to make him more comfortable. There’s another one that helps flush his kidneys. It’s a lot I know. Can I ask you something?” I looked up surprised. “Uh, sure.” “You two used to be the best of friends. What happened?” “Oh.” I struggled to remember. “I guess we just grew apart. My idea of fun was pretty dumb and childish.” I could hear James click his tongue twice again. “One click for yes, two clicks for no, five knocks for danger!” I remembered him saying. We had had a code then. Was he using it? We locked eyes again. I had to test it out. “He’s 16 now, right?” Click. “That’s right.” “So was he born with it?” “Yeah,” Click. Click. “Unfortunately, there was no treatment at the time for his brother.” Click Click. “Random question. Do you think i’ll get sick again?” Click. “Well I hope not.” Click click. “But I really can’t say for sure. You just need to keep drinking water and flush out your system. You were probably dehydrated.” Click Click. “My someone’s talkative tonight.” She leaned down and affectionately brushed back his hair. “I had the craziest dream last night. You put James’s medicine in my water to make me sick. “ I gave a weak chuckle for show. Debbie laughed too. “Oh, sweetie, no. James’s medication is way too expensive for that. If I wanted to poison you I’d use antifreeze.” Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

Chapter 2 of one of my most NSFW stories I have ever written. Want some more raunchy stories? How about some more cute and cuddly stories? Good news: you can get access to plenty of both for only $10 instantly. Not only are there tons of stories already available, you are guaranteed at least one new story a week! Patreon.com/thatdaddyfellow _____________________________________________________________________________________________ Chapter 2 The matching bra and panties set that sat on Jennifer’s 5’5” frame looked like it was painted on. Her 34DD breasts bounced, ever so slightly, as she made her way over to her kneeling boyfriend. “Good job at listening Jackson, I’m happy that I don’t have to go get the paddle. I, however, have something a lot more fun. Now, I want you to lay down right here so i can get you all padded up.” As her boyfriend laid on his back, Jenn reached to her right and stuck her hand in the large bag. She moved her hand around, feeling plenty of different textures until she felt the smooth plastic of the diaper. Watching Jennifer pull the thick diaper from the bag was a double edged sword for the man awaiting his crinkly prison. On one hand, he loved diaper play as much as anyone. He admitted, it took him a couple sessions to have these feelings, but now that he does, it is by far his favorite accessory to have in the bedroom and that is saying something. On the other hand, with what his girlfriend was (or wasn’t) wearing, he wanted nothing to get in the way of him throwing her on the bed and just going at her. Since Jackson really wasn’t in any position to make demands, he just laid back and played the latter over and over in his mind. Jennifer was confused as to why her boyfriend had that big grin and glazed look on his face, but it made lifting his bottom up and placing the padding under his butt a little bit harder. She knew what would snap him out of his stupor. As Jenn reached down to her boyfriend’s diaper area, she took a hold of his semi flacid cock. That snapped Jackson out of his thoughts immediately. Feeling the lotion covered hands of his sexy girlfriend on his dick made his hair stand on end. Jack didn’t care what he was hearing, what he had under his ass, or what Jennifer was about to do to him, all he wanted right now was for her hand to keep doing what it’s doing. “Do you like that hun?” Jenn asked, waiting for a reply, to which she just received a nod from the man laying before her. Normally, she liked to baby talk to Jackson when there was diaper play involved, but the scene she had prepared was no spot for a regressed boyfriend. After a couple more strokes up and down his bulging cock, she slowly released her boyfriend and reached back into the bag. Jackson’s head snapped up and his eyes stared daggers at the drop dead gorgeous women in front of him. “Babe, why on earth did you stop?” he asked, almost pleading for her to pick up where she left off. “This is why” she told him, pulling the bullet shaped object out of the bag. With a smile beaming from her face, Jennifer asked “do you know what this is” to her submissive boyfriend. All Jackson could do was nod. He knew two things: it was a suppository and it was going in his butt. “Perfect! If you know what it is, then you know what it does. I have a little game for you to play today. I am going to put some thick mittens on you” she told him in a matter of fact tone, placing the suppository on the floor and taking the mitts out of her sack of sexy accessories. Normally she would only use these for regression play, but they were going to be put to a much more nefarious purpose today. The man about to be diapered on the floor sported a confused look as his girlfriend guided his hands into the soft mittens. What in the world could she be up to? There was no other baby stuff out, that he could see at least, so he didn’t think little space was going to be a part of the night. As his mind went over the possibilities, he heard the woman kneeling in front of him clear her throat. When her diapered man was thinking about what the night could hold, Jenn had grabbed the baby oil and powder from the seemingly bottomless bag. She squeezed a healthy squirt onto Jackson’s diaper area and then spoke as she rubbed it in. “So, tonight, I am going to have a little fun. Since I know you had a very long day at work, I wanted to reward my working man! Once we get this suppository in your butt and the fluffy diaper all taped up, I think I am gonna give you a strip tease. You deserve it.” Jennifer was suing the sexiest tone she could as she finished up with the oil and moved onto the powder. “However, I don’t want to see you touch yourself. At all. If, when I finish up what I have planned, your diaper isn’t bone dry, you are going to get a meeting with Mr. Paddle. That means, whether there is piss, shit, or cum in your diaper, you're gonna get it paddled with it wrapped around your waist. Do you understand me?” Jennifer asked, making sure he knew the rules...well, half of them at least. “Oh fuck” was the only thought that ran through his mind. So, not only was he not going to be able to cum, he was going to have to hold in the mess that was going to be trying to force it’s way into his diaper while watching his sexy as fuck girlfriend get naked? It felt like the odds were stacked against him big time. As he tried to start calming his mind before anything started, he locked eyes with the woman in black lingerie staring at him. She was wearing the “well, did you hear me” face like it was a Halloween mask. “Yes” was all Jackson could muster as he saw he reach back for the item that was going inside him. “Before I put this in your ass, I have a couple more rules” she told him, pouring out the bag onto the floor with a thud. She picked up the hula hoop first. “I am going to put this a little bit behind you. I don’t want to see even one toe outside of this ring.” She tossed it towards the wall, satisfied when it landed a good 5 feet from where she was going to be. “One more thing: If I see you touching your puffy padding at all while I’m stripping, I will stop immediately and go get Mr. Paddle and something else. Trust me, you don’t want to know what that other item is. Now, let’s get this in you” Jenn told Jackson, almost immediately after shoving the bullet shaped instrument of torture into his hole and quickly taping the plastic backed diaper on snug. As soon as Jackson watched the last tape get pressed tight, he got on his hands and knees and crawled back to the hula hoop as fast as he could. The man crinkled back to the predetermined spot, knowing that every second counted. If he were to sit there and argue or whine to Jenn, it would have only taken time away from his ability to not lose the game. “Stripping time” he thought, a small smile grew on his face as he sat on his knees, the only way he could sit while still keeping his feet in the ring. “Good. Now, I think it’s time I got out of this bra” Jennifer gave her boyfriend a seductive smile as she started rolling her hips. After all, she didn’t just want to get naked right away, she wanted to give Jackson a show. If it was at the expense of his pristine, white diaper, so be it. “Here we go” was all the crossed his mind as a dumb grin formed on his lips. However, the look planted on his face wasn’t the only thing changing, as evidenced by the slight movement of the diaper. As Jen turned around and shook her ass at the man stuck in the hula hoop, his right hand slowly moved down to his crotch solely on instinct. Thank God that he was able to stop himself at the last moment or the show would have been over. “Wow, not touching myself might be even harder than holding the suppository in.” The man trapped in the hoop blushed just thinking that sentence. Reaching up her tanned shoulder blades, Jennifer got a hold of the back of her bra. At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to use some cheesy line like “does baby want some of mommy’s milk?”, instead the words “Look at these tits. Why don’t you waddle over here and give them a squeeze” dripped off of her lips. No way in hell Jackson was going to take that bait. He stood, or sat, his ground as his erection continued to strain against the fluffy padding trapping it. Jennifer figured that her man was too smart to take that easy bait, so she decided to add a little wrinkle into the mix. Walking towards him, she could see the tent he was pitching in his padding. “Are you sure you don’t wanna rub your cock honey? It looks like it's about to burst!” Again, no movement from him. It was at that moment she made a decision that would tip the odds in her favor. Bending over, Jenn grabbed the crotch of the love of her life’s diaper and gave it a squeeze. “I said you can’t touch yourself, but I didn’t say I couldn’t touch you.” Jackson’s eyes lit up like Christmas lights when his topless girlfriend grabbed his infantile underwear. “What?!? That’s definitely cheating!” he called out, trying not to think about his current situation. “You’re right. I lost” she coldly said, pulling her hand away from his covered cock and walking away. As she turned her head back towards him, Jenn called out “Looks like you are gonna get no show and just mess your diaper like a little baby!” The blood rushed to his face immediately. She was right. If he was going to have to shit his pants, he might as well have some fun beforehand. “Jenn, please come back! It’s not cheating, I’m sorry” he shyly told her, his eyes drifting up to catch her perfect ass stop moving. “Good boy” was all she needed to say.

Any individuals residing around the Houston area ? I reside in League City, which is right near Kemah. I've been wanting to meet up with some of my own kind, part of the reason I joined these forums so I could interact with fellow diaper lovers and adult babies.

This is a story I started earlier this year, finally getting around to it after being so busy with College and being sick so often. I'm always open to listen to constructive criticism, and hope you enjoy! ------------------ -_-_Prologue_-_- “Case number 113498976, please approach gate 6,” a booming voice came over the speakers. I stood, my shackles shaking as i waddled towards the correct gate. A guard approached and did a quick pat down, then opened the door to the courtroom. It was just like in the tv shows, large and official looking, but dated. I was pushed towards a chair and was sat next to a sweaty man in his late fifties, wearing an old, ill fitting suit. ‘Looks like they went all out for my attorney’ I thought. The Judge walked up and and banged his gavel and the room fell silent, “Please be seated, Mr. Veroa vs The City of Houston, everybody seems to be here, lets begin,” he barked out. I sighed, looking around the room I was looking out at a bunch of official looking men and women giving me an angry look. I looked at the sodden carpet and zoned out for most of the time, I was in the wrong, I knew that, but I was hoping for a reduced sentence, or a sympathetic vote from the jury acquitting me. Several people took the stand, a security officer in a sling and a cop with a broken nose were there the longest. I didn’t need to listen, I knew what they were saying, that I was a dangerous, violent homeless man who posed a threat to society and should be made an example of. I started to think of prison. It was where I would inevitably be. The cell here would be luxury compared to what a state prison would be. I was thrown out of my thoughts when my lawyer elbowed me softly, “I’m sorry, what was the question?” I asked the Judge. “Do you want to give your side?” he asked with an annoyed look on his face. “Yes sir, I would,” I stood up and walked to the stand. The chair was heavy wood and uncomfortable. “On January 12th, I took food that was not mine from the store. I ran from their security, and pushed a cop at the exit leaving the unpaid merchandise outside the door. I then ran from the police and was caught later. I did try to resist arrest and I did state that I would make sure the arresting officer got what was coming for him, but it was in the heat of the moment, and I was not intending to follow up with the threat, I was just upset.” I finished looking around the room. There were a lot of shocked faces, angry faces, some I couldn’t read, but I hoped that since I gave an honest testimony, they’d be more forgiving. “Alright, please return to your seat sir,” he directed at me then turned towards the lawyers, “any other witnesses?” he asked. Both my lawyer and the opposing lawyer just shook their heads and the lawyer banged his gavel, “Jury will meet and decide the fate of Mr. Veroa and this case will resume when they’re ready” I was once again pushed around and back into the cell I was already acquainted with. It felt like a long while before the officer returned, but definitely not enough time for the jury to be ready. “Up.” was all he said as I was once again pushed into the courtroom. My lawyer had ketchup on his suit and looked like he was already looking forward to his next meal, not even acknowledging my existence. “Jury have you made your decision?” the Judge queried. A lady in the closest seat to the Judge stood up with a paper in her hand. “Yes your Honor, we the Jury find the Defendant, George Veroa, guilty on all counts and recommend the maximum sentence of 10 years in addition to his pending charges in prison.” The room was spinning. What had just happened? I pinched myself, ‘Ow’ i was unfortunately awake. I wasn’t listening to what was going on in the room, I was pushed back out and into my cell. I could spend my life in jail? “George!” I snapped my head to the voice. The Judge was standing there, his usual annoyed look was once again staring at me. “I’m sorry, it’s just a lot to take in,” I gave a half smile more for myself than him. “I’m able to give you an option, we’re doing a new program, and I feel you would be a good candidate for it. I gave you the option in the courtroom and you didn’t respond, so I figured you were thinking about it.” He signaled the guard over and he opened the cell. He walked in and the guard locked it behind him. “Listen,” he says as he sits on the bench next to me, “This program will get you out of a prison, but it is a prison of itself. I am not able to get you any details, as that’s a part of the program, the surprise element anyways. It is part of a new program the state is trying to alleviate the inmate population. With your other pending charges, you’re looking at a lot of hard time, and I for one don’t think prison is gonna ‘reform’ ya for the better.” He pauses and hands me a piece of gum. “You’re not a bad guy, you’ve had some bad luck, made some wrong decisions, but you’re smart, and that’s why I’m giving you an option, instead of just throwing you in some jail to rot. This is the best of a bad situation. You’re 24, George, you shouldn’t be in a cement 10 foot by 10 foot room for eternity. Please let me help you.” His eyes were caring, ‘he doesn’t seem to be fibbing, but what does he mean, not a prison, but still a sort of prison’ I pondered for less than ten seconds before saying, “How is it not a prison?” I figured he would just ask for a yes or no, but he gave an actual response. “You won’t be in a prison, jail, or anything like that, there’s no manual labor or prison guards, it’ll be some… partial freedom.” He flashed a quick smile and stood up. “Well?” I looked at him, stood and offered my hand. “I’m in. Thank you sir,” I said as we shook on it.

( (above image by Buckarooblaster on Deviantart, used with permission) "Are we there yet?" "We've barely left yet, and we still need to pick up your big sister," the large, graying middle age man in the front seat replied without taking his eyes off the road. "She's not my sister!" "Well she is now, Erica." this time he glanced into the mirror to see her, and spoke with an edge of warning in his voice. "And she's not my "big" sister," Erica muttered. "Hey!" he growled. "That's enough whining. Settle down and watch your cartoons or I'll pull over and spank your bottom!" The woman sitting beside him, herself a bit older but with her hair still blond, turned back and pointed a finger at her. "You know your new position now. Complaining won't change it. We've given all you should need to be happy, you have your cartoons and your stuffy if your bored and that paci should keep you from complaining. We shouldn't hear a peep out of you until we get there. Accept your new place or we'll give you something to whine about." Erica sighed and rested her head on her hand. The cartoon flickered in front of her, but she was bored of it already. It didn't have any real plot she could see, just flickering lights and cutesy animals. She turned to look out the window, hearing her diaper crinkle as she shifted positions. The car seat she sat in, though comfortable, came with tight straps didn't allow for much movement, making any shift an effort. Trees ran by the car at top speed, and she imagined a figure running over their tops, jumping from branch to branch. As it was, her "position" didn't give her much other options. From their perspective, those cartoons were a perfect match for her- as was the diaper she was wearing, the stuffed cat in her arms, the pacifier in her mouth, and the baby bottle and diaper bag packed on either side of her car seat. The fact that her diaper was both printed and plainly visible under her yellow t shirt drove the point home. In this country, there was no point in even trying to hide her status. A skirt, shorts, or even a onesie might have implied- god forbid- that there was a reason to hide her underwear while out in public. She remembered how excited she had been when the laws changed. It had only been about a year (she wasn't certain as no one bothered to tell her times or dates) but felt like a life time ago. She had a 'normal' life before, at least from the outside. She went to university, worked her way though and even got a job. Anyone who knew her would think she was a perfectly functioning adult, if a bit secretive. However, it was just a show. Each night when she got home to her apartment, she'd live her 'other' life, the one she kept hidden in a plastic box at the back of her closet. She remembered the thrill of taking out her hidden diapers, the onesies she had bought online, and her stuffed animals. She'd tape her diapers on, snuggle her stuffed rabbit, and feel another day's worth of anxiety fade out of her stomach. She'd turn on the television to the cartoon station, then open her laptop log onto the few online sites where she could act the way she really wanted, and read the adoring, childish messages that made her feel warm inside. For years, it was the only time she felt safe, and she dreamed of one day being able to live it all for real, not having to hide it. Then, the opportunity arose. News came of legal changes in a small European state. They began creating different types of identification, built from research into fetishists and kinks. It was more then just claiming to be interested, there were detailed personality tests which showed long term compatibility with different roles, and those who were found fitting would have "submissive", or "pet", or "sissy," added to their ID's and matched with their dominants, creating an entirely new legal classes. There was online debate as to what it would mean and why- was this actual science? Was it some confused attempt at progressiveness and accepting alternative lifestyles, or perhaps a marketing gimmick for tourists to come gawk and at people in their new roles? (since then she had encountered many of that last group) She hadn't cared, instead, she remembered eagerly pouring over the lists until she found it- "Adult Baby." Clicking links lead to success stories. Most of the actual information was in a language she didn't understand, but the photos of people dressed in onesies and diapers, living as legally declared "Adult babies", was more then enough for her. She remembered breathlessly looking at the requirements while at work. It was all She laughed, telling herself if they were fair the box hidden in her closet and the years of online search history should qualify her. However, she wanted to make sure. She found lists of how to 'cheat' the test. After some searching, someone in broken English gave an answer key he promised would lead to the right identification, along with a warning she couldn't read. She downloaded it and spent the rest of her day committing it to memory and booking plane tickets, her heart swelling with excitement. This was her chance, she thought, she'd finally live her dream! Now, her she was, wearing just a diaper and a t-shirt, sucking a pacifier, and strapped into an oversized car seat, completely at the whim of the "mommy" and "daddy" who saw her only as a baby who had become literally to big for her britches, and as a society that both accepted her as such and legally enforced it. In a way, it was all she had wanted. However, in another it was everything she didn't, as there was one aspect she had not considered. Her thought was interrupted as the car stopped. She looked out the other window to see the gigantic letters she recognized as marking a university in a language which, fittingly, she couldn't read. She rolled her eyes and sighed. The door opened, and in bounced a bubbly, blond haired and blue eyed girl. "Girl," Erica thought, barely out of her teens. Erica had graduated long ago and had moved onto a job, and was both older and by rights more accomplished, but in this society her 'sister' was the only adult in the back seat. "Hi mom and dad!" she said. "Hi dear! How was class?" her mother replied. "Oh you know, same old same old. Glad to be on vacation." She then turned to Erica. "Hi baby sis!" she said, and pecked Erica on the cheek. "Have you been a good girl today?" "Actually, she's been grumpy the entire ride," "Daddy" replied. "Oh, that's too bad. You know my psychology proof said it sometimes takes time for them to adjust to their new positions. They've been fed misinformation their entire lives telling them they are something they aren't, and its hard to undo that." She patted Erica's leg. "It's ok baby sis, you'll get there." "Oh, Samantha," Erica's "Daddy" said to her "big sister" "before we start driving would you mind checking Erica's diaper? Its a long way and I don't want to be stuck driving for hours smelling her again before we can change her." Erica shuddered. She remembered the time he was talking about. It was shortly after she had been adopted and was still overwhelmed with excitement. The idea of having to use her diapers in different situations thrilled her, and she had messed herself while they were driving on the highway, knowing it would be passed off as an accident. It had been a hot day, and it was an hour before the next rest stop. "It doesn't smell like it from here," Samantha replied. "Yes but sometimes you don't notice at first. Just check." Samantha grumbled. "What?" "Its just... If she is in a dirty diaper, I won't have to change her this time, will I?" she made a disgusted face. "I changed her last time, and normally when you ask me to check her its a lead in to change me." "You didn't change her last time! I did!" "Mommy" replied. "Well, its not my turn! I just don't like changing her out in these parking lots because I have to carry her gross diapers to the garbage can, and I just had my nails done!" "Then change her in the school bathroom." "I don't want to take her all smelly through the halls! Its crowded in there and people will notice!" She made another face. "Plus I just had lunch and I'd feel sick." "Would you rather change her after she's been sitting in it an hour?" "Well..." "Mommy" turned toward her. "You agreed to help take care of the baby this vacation, remember? That was part of the deal. That means taking care of her diapers." Samantha rolled her eyes, then turned a smile toward Erica. "Ok baby! Time to check your pampies!" Now Erica looked down at the girl beside her who patted the front of her diaper, ensuring the same thing wouldn't happen. Erica could have told them it was clean, but to them her word meant nothing on the matter. "ALl dry! Good baby!" she said. "Now lean over so I can check you for stinkies." Erica glared at her. "Now now, I don't want to have to spank you!" she said. Erica rolled her eyes. There was no point in arguing. It was a valid threat. In this country she was well within her rights to spank Erica. The law acknowledge that strict punishment might be needed to control people in their new positions, and that despite her role her adult body could handle the pain. It was a threat she would once have been thrilled to hear, and she had deliberately tried to receive when she first arrived. That, however, was before she learned of the one thing she missed. She leaned forward and to the side as far as the straps of her car seat would allow. "There's a good baby," her "big sister" spoke in a tone that was supposed to sound loving but was horribly condescending, especially coming from someone years younger then she was. Erica felt a hand reach down her back and open her diaper, then pat it before announcing what she already knew. "All clean! Well done baby girl!" Erica forced a smile, pretending to love the condescending compliment. The car began moving toward a location Erica didn't know. They generally didn't bother telling her where they were going. They began a conversation on politics which which she was not invited to share in. Despite having majored in it years ago, any addition she had would be replied with "Shh now, the grown ups are talking," followed by a tap on the pacifier. "Oh, Erica!" Samantha said. Erica looked at her, hoping to be involved somehow. Instead, she saw Samantha bend down to pick up her stuffed cat from the ground. "You dropped him! No wonder you are so grumpy." She handed her the cat. Erica grumbled and yanked the cat with a frustration she hoped would be confused with excitement. The 'adults' went back to the conversation, and Erica tried to follow but gave up as they switched back and forth from English and their countries language she didn't understand, knowing that even if she could they wouldn't consider anything she had to say intelligent or mature enough to really listen to. Erica leaned back into her car seat. Again, it was soft and comfortable, but the backward angle and tight straps were meant for someone to fall asleep and barely move, and she felt restless. She looked at the cartoon, but couldn't stand any more of it. Instead, she struggled forward, put her foot on the seat beside her, rested an elbow on it, and leaned into her hand to stare out the window. This was the part she hadn't considered- the boredom. Her treatment was NON STOP. Back home, the brief periods of babying she experienced were always thrilling. However, after days, weeks, and months of it, it was just boring. Once the thrill wore off, spankings she used to look forward to were just painful, outfits she once felt adorable in were humiliating, talks that used to give her butterflies were condescending, and messy diapers that pushed her immediately into "sub space" were just smelly and itchy. Meanwhile, her favorite adult television shows were replaced with plot less cartoons, books she used to read were replaced with 'story time,' and conversations she would love to add to were replaced with... well, replaced with a pacifier and an order to be quiet. Worse yet was the 'other thing,'- once the most exciting part of being babied and tied up, now just a big tease, drawing her to actions that immediately earned her punishment. The closest thing she had to a boyfriend was the stuffed cat, and he didn't do much to fill in when they were finally alone together. The wake up call had been that one day driving on the highway when she had messed herself. Her head space wore off long before they could stop, and she was left squirming uncomfortably and gagging as her "family" noticeably breathed through their noses and rolled windows down. They began arguing over whose turn it was to change her diaper as she tried to sink into her chair and disappear, while simultaneously lift out of the mess. What seemed like over an hour later (She wasn't told the time), she lived out yet another exciting daydream turned horrifying nightmare in reality. She was lead by the hand through a crowded store, passed people who blocked their noses and teased her as she passed, then into a gas station bathroom for a very public diaper change. The last of her dignity was stripped away along with her oversize romper and the tapes of her diaper, and she was lain down to be cleaned with no input of her own. She covered her face with her hands as people passed, telling herself that at least they were female. This, pattern, she found, applied to a lot of things. A very public spanking, which she had deliberately 'bratted' to receive, went from being a fun idea in her mind to a painful one when the smacks didn't stop and she realized she no longer had a safety word. The first few times she was babysat by Samantha or other college students younger then her she had broken down into fits of ecstatic giggling, now it was annoying. Being spoon fed baby food in high chairs and bottles in laps went from being silly fun to boring and slow. Worse, she couldn't help the feeling that somehow, in this country, it fit. She had barely known about it before hand, but if she had researched it she would have found it was one of the most educated and healthy countries in the world. Walking through the air port surrounded by people head and shoulders taller then her made her feel little as it was. She looked at her family with their gym toned bodies, advanced degrees, muli-lingual skills and high paying jobs with her jaw open, seeing people who could both physically overpower her and talk circles around her. Her 'family' looked at her thin, doughy and fast food fed body, community college courses picked based on ease and 'fun,' and series of low paying internships while living in an apartment and saw someone who couldn't take care of herself. She hated to admit it, but even Samantha and her friends who regularly babysat Erica could speak well over her head, and, in a few particularly embarrassing moments, even correct her casual English grammer. She could tell herself that she was more accomplished as she had already worked and earned her own place, but she knew that as soon as Samantha graduated with her complex double major, beyond Erica's understanding, she'd have an earning power beyond Erica as well. There was a strong argument she was already more responsible. Any attempt to join in adult conversation, sound intelligent, or otherwise defend her adult life was met with chuckles, 'awwws' and condescending heat pats, and she imagined any attempt to explain that she had cheated the test would be met with the same and people talking about her 'silly stories' as if she wasn't there. From their perspective, there was now doubt she was exactly where she belonged: in diapers, cribs, high chairs, and confining car seats, with a babysitter looking after her. It all hammered in the one, clear fact: this was no longer a game, this was her life. She heard her name, followed by instructions in the other language. Samantha leaned in and tightened her straps, and Erica was pulled back into the chair. Bondage was also something she had experimented with, but was now less fun when it was a consistent rule. Play pens were confining and didn't leave much room for movement, high chairs were worse still, and early bedtimes in cribs left her awake for hours. Now, she was stuck in the car seat, unable to look out the window, and stuck facing the cartoons. She sat her cat on her laps and wrapped her arms around it. She closed her eyes and tried to drift off to sleep. At least that would pass the time, and she couldn't do much else in a seat clearly designed specifically to lull her. It was still fun to be a 'baby', but she wished there was a break. It was months before she could retake the test, and she considered whether she would deliberately twist it again or try to pass it as 'normal'- that is, if she could pass it as normal if she tried. Until then, she supposed she only had one complaint- she was getting exactly, exactly what she wanted.

I hope this post is taken in the manor it is intended as I don’t wish it to be a negative. I have often read the ‘Meet up’ section more out of interest of where people live and if anybody is close by than any great desire to actually meet. I have however noticed that most posts die within maybe a couple of posts. You may have a thread started along the lines of:- “Baby boy seeking mummy for fun and changes” or “Daddy 38 seeking baby girl willing to travel” I’ve also seen somebody post they would like a meetup and have had a reply from somebody 250 miles away. To me that seems a little off without first building an online friendship of sorts. I wonder how much success has come of the multitude of threads started in this section alone. It seems to me that the vast majority are started with a sexually drive intent and the rest are with the hope of finding a caregiver. Of the few that have been started with the intent of meeting like-minded people, the responses have instantly been about wearing together and changing each other’s nappies. It all seems like a recipe for instant gratification than actually creating a lasting friendship. Even the meet ups in the UK all seem to be aimed towards jumping straight into nappies and letting out our littles. I just wonder if it would be healthier if there were groups in which in the first instance any nappy or baby talk was banned in order to work out if people get on, in order to create solid friendships. I know if I was to have a social group I would feel happier knowing I could meet for a drink and talk TV, football or whatever and then maybe one day down feel comfortable enough to maybe have a more baby related friendship. Sorry for the longwinded and perhaps slight uneven post just some general thoughts I have been having. Id love to hear peoples thoughts, if anything it may create a community of posters from the UK on here.

I wasn't sure about this story line at first, it seemed a little harsh to sentence someone to a life term for shop lifting and hitting a guard and a cop. The more you tell about him the more I can see that the judge thought that he had no future. He didn't have a job or a home, he was kicked out at 19 by his father, I doubt he finished school and had no real hope going on if he went to jail. The scars on his body are either from fights or abuse from his father. I don't think he would have lasted a year in jail without being raped or killed. Just maybe having a loving mommy and daddy will somehow make the baby treatment easier to handle.

Very cool chapter, I am enjoying your story and look forward to more thanks for sharing

That's pretty much the same as I do it.

I know you guys all packed out your diapers to a legitimate trash receptacle, but this has come up before. If you're gong to wear diapers when you camp, you need to pack them out. Burying is not a solution.

Chapter 14 When Mei-Lin returned to the living room, she brought with her a large wooden paddle. She carried it in her right hand and swung it into her left palm. It was a substantial instrument. Tonight was its christening across April's bottom. Where did Mei-Lin get that? April's eyes were wide and she tried to speak, "I'm sorry, Mei-Lin, Mistress Mei-Lin." "Too late," said Mei-Lin, "Come here, across my lap." April slowly stood and walked to her mistress's chair. She kneeled across Mei-Lin's lap. She yanked April's diaper down and bared the blonde’s smooth, round bottom. The first stroke landed on her behind with a crack. Raylin could not look away. Mei-Lin continued the blows until she had landed 10 swats on the blonde's rear. Red streaks criss crossed her creamy behind. Mei-Lin pulled the girl’s diaper back into place and sent her back to her seat, "Raylin, I saw you watching April's ass. Did you have naughty thoughts? Stand up." "No, Mistress," said Raylin, but his diaper had a bulge that caught him in a lie. "Raylin, assume the position over my lap," instructed Mei-Lin with authority. He complied reluctantly, "Yes, Mistress." Mei-Lin pulled his diaper down, commenting, "Next time I see your bare bottom, I want your entire diaper area hairless." "Yes, Mistress," he said from his position over her lap. Mei-Lin swung the wooden paddle as hard as she could. Raylin jumped with the first one. It surprised him a small woman like Mei-Lin could muster such an intensive blow to his bottom. Five strokes later, she pulled his diaper back across his rear. He returned to his seat. That went so well, Mei-Lin wanted to see if there were limits to what they would do for her. "April, go to the kitchen and fill a pitcher with water and bring two glasses with you," she said, "I want to see how well those diapers hold up." "Yes, Mei-L, Mistress Mei-Lin," said April. She returned with a large blue pitcher and two drinking glasses. Mei-Lin took the pitcher and poured the glasses equally full. She placed a glass on the coffee table in front of each of them. "Drink up," said Mei-Lin. Raylin sipped on his for two or three gulps. April looked at her glass and turned it up, drinking it all in one go. Mei-Lin smiled and poured them another glass each. April slammed hers like she was drinking tequila. Raylin needed a few gulps to get his water down. "Now we wait and have a conversation," said Mei-Lin, "April, tell Raylin how long you have had a crush on him." April had lost some of her shyness, "Only since the first time we met for advising on my degree program. I thought you were classically cute." Raylin blushed, "I noticed you, too. As an advisor and an instructor, I shouldn't become involved with my students." They chatted for a while. Mei-Lin mostly listened and interjected a question here and there to keep the discussion going. She noticed April tapping her knees together after 30 minutes. Was she trying to keep her diaper dry? Was her bladder urging her to void? Mei-Lin poured the last glass of water from the pitcher for each of her diapered playthings, "Drink up. I want to see which of you wets first." It took another 20 minutes before Raylin gasped and the wetness strip in his diaper faded from yellow to blue. Mei-Lin laughed, "April, feel Raylin's diaper. Rub it until he can't stand it anymore. Raylin, rub April's diaper until she wets herself as you did." April put her hand out but hesitated to touch his wet diaper. Mei-Lin moved closer and guided April's hand to Raylin's crotch and forced her to stroke him. He was already firm. Mei-Lin took Raylin's hand and positioned it on April's mound and started him rubbing her where it would do the most good. Raylin wasn't able to hold back for very long. April and Mei-Lin both saw him tense up in his abdomen and between his legs. April didn't care, she was feeling the tingle in her diaper and wanted more. She ground into Raylin's hand. Her breathing was shallow and quick as Raylin let out a gasp. His rubbing pushed April to her climax and a full release of her bladder. Mei-Lin chuckled, "Congratulations! You came together!" When it was over, she had April change Raylin's diaper. His shrinking member no longer stretching his diaper. Next she had Raylin change April's diaper and help Mei-Lin put her to bed. She gave Raylin his clothes. Once he dressed, Mei-Lin walked him to the door. You can change the diaper when you get home, but I want you to put another one on. Be here at six o'clock tomorrow evening and bring more of those thick diapers if you have any left," said Mei-Lin.

I’m watching my favourite The Simpson’s, when Homer wets the bed, and ends up wearing adult diapers. Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

I would love that. I hope you make it happen slowly and progressively, so that she gets frustrated by the random accidents but initially does not fail 100% of the potty attempts, so she can still retain the illusion of fighting back.

Personally, if she could somehow slowly start to appreciate these diapers, then end up loving them and finally not being able to do without them emotionally, that would please me.

Too tired for the “hope this helps” hint...I wonder what happens in the morning when he wakes up wet. Gonna be shocker...lol. Thanks for the little chapter!

What are "big boys pants?"

Quick chapter, it was part of a longer chapter, but I wanted to add this while y'all waited! Hope you enjoy it -_-_Chapter 4_-_- I waited a few minutes, listening to make sure neither of them were coming to check on me before I sat in a corner of the crib. Then, something I hadn’t felt in years, a tightness in the chest and throat, bringing tears, then quickly turning into a quiet sob. Not a cry of sadness, but all the new overwhelming feelings, humiliation, fear, newness, and tiredness all wreaking havoc on my emotions. I hated everything about this, the diapers, the being talked down to, the crazy Amazonian-like giants of Greek mythology, massive surroundings and the suddenness of it all were too much to keep bottled up. I hadn’t shed a tear in years, not since my Dad kicked me out. Now here I was, sobbing like the infant they thought I was. I buried my face in the pillow, until sleep took over. I woke up to a warm cloth rubbing my face. The room was dark, aside from the dim glow of a night light. “Hey buddy, feeling better?” Jacks’ hushed voice asked. I just nodded, my head hurt, but I just wanted to be alone again. “I brought you something to drink if you want,” he offered another sippy cup. My stomach rumbled at the sound, giving me away. “Thanks,” I said quietly and took the drink from him. This drink was different than the first, it tasted more like heavy cream with a vanilla aftertaste. The warm drink quickly filled my stomach, spreading the warmth through my limbs, then to my head. I felt a hand rest on the front of the diaper I was wearing, but I was too infatuated with my drink to protest. “Hmm, you’re still dry, hopefully this helps.” Jack said to himself. He kneeled down, watching me finish the drink, smiling. With the last few sips, the warm feeling radiated through my body, providing a happiness I wanted to bask in forever. “Guess you like that, huh?” He asked as he brushed my cheek. I didn’t reply, lost in the bliss the drink brought to me. “Sleep well buddy, see you in the morning,” he whispered as he stood up and walked out of the room. I tried to focus on the warm, tingly feeling coursing through me, it was like nothing I’d ever felt before, and I wanted to try to make it last as long as possible. Though sleep quickly won that fight and I drifted into a warm cozy restful slumber.

A lot can happen in just two months. Mommy made sure of that. I tried to fight it at first, but with the constant fear of debt or Mr.love, Mommy always kept me in my place. Some days it was hard to remember if I was supposed to be Betty’s playmate or Mommy's toy. Things started very simply. Every morning Julia would wake me up by checking my diaper. The first few days I was always dry so Julia made sure Mr.love had a friendly chat with my bottom before giving me something to make me need my diaper. Frozen bananas, rectal laxatives, an enema, all being put in me at some point and pulled with a butt plug. Forcing me to have stomach cramps all morning before I was allowed to relieve myself. It didn't take me long to learn to wet myself before I sleep or just go in my diaper when I needed to. Mommy was so happy when she found me with my first wet diaper she took off my chatty cage and helped me cum with her hand before putting it back on. From their things began to escalate. After spending all day playing with Betty and doing whatever she wanted to do, it was Mommy’s turn once Betty went to bed. She didn’t like taking off my cage much. Instead, she preferred to play with my ass. For two months, I’ve had fingers, beads, fruit, vegetables, and dildos all put into my ass. It heart like hell the first time she did any of it, but eventually, she would always get me to cum in the end. not once touching my dick as she did so. But the night time playing soon turned into humiliation as she found plenty of ways to play with me during the day. All while betty was unaware of any of it. Betty wanted to play dress-up? Here was mommy putting me in any baby costume she could find. Almost every costume would somehow show off my diaper. Betty wanted to play a video game? Here was mommy edging me on with a remote to my cage. Betty wanted to watch a movie? Mommy had her had down the back of my diaper with fingers in my butt. Betty wanted to play on a rocking horse? Mommy had mine with a hidden dildo and the back of my diaper ripped open as I ride. Mommy always found some way to play with me. She eventually couldn't even use Mr.love as a punishment after she started making me cum while being spanked. Now it just turns me on. There were only a few nights were Mommy didn’t play with me at all and by the time I was put to bed I was very antsy. She got me so used to cumming multiple times a day that now I'm constantly horny and needed some type of relief. But mommy always makes sure there is nothing I can do about that. The mittens she puts on my hands at night stop me from touching my diaper, and with how thick my diaper is I can’t even spank myself for any pleaser. On nights like these, I would just found myself humping one of the many stuffed toys Mommy would leave in my crib, hoping that it would somehow stimulate me enough to cum, but the cage made it impossible for me to feel that. All while Mommy secretly watched me and planned how she would play with me next. “Ahhhh!” I moaned in pleaser as Mommy had me on her lap while pinching my nipples. “Oh, I think we found something else baby girl likes.” Mommy sais with her smile as she continued to rub my nipples. “Mommy, they feel good,” I tell her as she plays with my body. If I had known it felt this good just playing with my nipples I would have done it a long time ago! Mommy just smiles as she feels the tinny breast I was starting to grow thanks to the hormones she was spiking my food with. Betty burst into the nursery and quickly ran over to mommy and me. Not even noticing just what mommy was doing but more excited to show off her cute red dress she reserved in the mail from her dad. “Sissy, baby, dont I look cute?” Betty asked “You look very cute,” Julia tells her sister with a bright smile. “Bery cute!” I tell Betty is a cute baby lisp I picked up. I found that the more babyish I acted, the more mommy would play with me. “Are you all ready to go?” Julia asked. “Dad will be here soon.” “Go?” I say confused. “Ya! Daddy is taking me on a big trip!” Betty told me as I vaguely remember something mommy told me a long time ago about Betty moving away. “Im going to miss you so much!” Betty wrapped her arms around me for a big tight hug that I embraced back. “Cant she come with me?” Betty asked when she finally let go and looked very sad. “Sorry betty, but baby needs to stay here. But dont worry you might get to see her again someday.’ Julia tells her with a smile. While it was hard to remember sometimes, I was reminded of exactly why I was here and why I was playing the role of a baby sister. I guess today would be the last day of it all huh? After this, it is back to my old life. “Julia? Betty?” someone shouts from somewhere in the house. Undoubtedly their father, here to pick Betty up. “Daddy!” Betty shouted as she ran out of the room and towards the man’s voice. With her gone, Mommy laced me back into my crib. “Mommy will be back in a little bit,” Mommy tells me with are right warm smile as she walks out of the room. I guess this is it. In just a few minutes my job will be done. It was strange, I felt a little sad that this would all be over. But now I would finally be free. Free of all my debt, and free to do anything I would like. Who knows, maybe I could ask mommy out. She clearly loves toying with me, and after what she has done to me there was no way I could go back to normal sex. I hear a door close and faint footsteps coming closer to my nursery. A bright smile on my face as I see mommy come back. “Such a good girl waiting for mommy,” she tells me as she comes over to butterfly kiss me. “Mommy, my job is over right?” I asked her. “I can now go home.” Mommy looked at me for a moment before she burst out laughing. “Aww, that’s so precious. Baby girl isn’t going anywhere.” Mommy tells me. “Huh?” I respond a little confused. “Now then, let's get you ready to meet daddy,” Mommy tells me with an even bigger smile on her face as she mentions Daddy. “D-daddy?” I repeat. “B-but didn't your daddy take Betty just now?” Once again Mommy just laughs. No, that’s my dad, not my daddy.” Mommy tells me. My mind is spinning as Mommy quickly undresses me and puts me into a very cure pink dress. She ties two little pigtails on my head with pink ribbons. All while my head is spinning and trying to figure out what was going on. “Oh, I can’t wait for daddy to finally see how much you’ve progressed! I just can’t wait to show him that fuckable bottom I’ve spent months getting ready! “F-fuckable...bottom?” I repeat as my eyes start to get wide as it begins to dawn on me some of what she was saying. Before mommy could continue any further, she gets a call and squeals as its a call from “daddy”. “Mommy will be back in just a few minutes. Daddy is on his way.” Mommy tells me as she hurries out the door to quickly prepare herself. “No, nonononono.” I mumble to myself as I slowly begin to panic. I wasn’t about to let some strange man fuck me! I wasn’t gay! I didn’t need a daddy, I needed to get out of here now! I looked at the crib and saw they were still never locked. I quickly pull the latch and open the crip and allowed me to jump out of it for the first time. My heart raced as I felt uncomfortable leaving my crib by my self for the first time without mommy. Wait, what am I thinking? Im a full-grown man, I dont need mommy for anything! I was thankful mommy never put anything in the way of stopping me from leaving. All I had to do was make it outside and I could go back to my normal life. I then stopped at the door to the nursery as I remembered one thing Mommy locked up. Turning back I could see the key to my charity cage still on the wall right next to Mr.love. I wasn't sure when mommy would be back, but I couldn't leave without at least freeing my old friend. Running over to the changing table, I had a hard time getting on top of it. Having to pull out a few drawers to give myself something to step on and climb up. When I finally reached the top, I stood upon the changing table and reach as far as my small body could reach and was just bearly touching it. With one small jump, I had grabbed ahold of the key and was able to pull it off its hook, but would up landing hard on my diaper bottom. “Ahhhh.” I moan with a slight smile as it felt like a light spank. Part of me also wanted to pull Mr.love down and have mommy gave me a few… I shook my head to remove those thoughts. I needed to focus right now. For the first time in two months, I finally opened up my own diaper and looked at my bulky little cage. It had been a while since mommy used it to play with me, but she liked to keep it on me. Saying it was for some sort of surprise. Using the key I unlocked the chastity cage and was finally able to remove it. “Huh?” I mumble as I look down at what was my manhood. Now ⅓ of its original size. “W-what happened to it?” “Eric? Is that really you?” I hear someone ask as I turn to look at my older brother standing in the doorway of the nursery.” “Bro!” I shout almost relieved to see him. “Bro, you got to help me get out of here! Mommy will be here at any moment!” “Mommy? Your calling Julia mommy now huh?” big bro said with a small laugh. “Yes, no, well, AHHH!” I shout frustrated by what's going on. “She’s done something to me! We need to get out of here qwick!” “Daddy! You're here early!” mommy shouts as she runs over and hugs my big brother now wearing a mini skirt and kissing him on the lips. “I've missed you so much!” “I know you have baby girl.” bro tells her with a big smile on his face. “But you know I had to focus on my college paper. But now that it's done we can finally start having some fun.” “Yay!” mommy squeals in happiness as she hugs him. “Now then, why dont you introduce me to your little girl?” Bro sais as he looks back to me and my heart sank. “Bad girl! Who said you could leave your crib?” mommy sais as she notices me and marches over to me before notices I removed my diaper and cage. “What a very bad girl!” I was frozen with fear as she marches over. Before I know it, im flipped over with my butt in the air and mr.love in mommy’s hands. A mixture of pleasing moans and painful screams escape my mouth as mommy give me a hard spanking right in front of my big brother. “Looks like you trained her well,” Bro commented as he watched the show. A bulge forming in his pants. “There we go. I think I got her all warmed up.” mommy sais as she picks me up and carries me over to a rocking chair where she has me sit on her lap. “Is daddy ready? “NO! I scream out and try to break free from mommy’s grasp. “I dont want to be fucked by daddy!” Both mommy and daddy look at one another before they both start to laugh. I stop fighting and just turned to look at both of them laughing at me as if I said something very funny. “Aww, who said daddy was the one going to fuck you?” Mommy asks with a smile on her face. “Y-you said you were preparing my a-ass for daddy…” I tell her. “No, mommy just wanted to show me your fuckable ass.” Daddy sais with a smile as he began to seem much bigger then I remember him. “I only have one baby girl and its the one your sitting on.” “Huh?” I replied confused. “Daddy, you have to tell her properly or she won’t understand,” Mommy tells him before leaning forward and whispering into my ear. “Daddy isn’t going to fuck you, I am.” Mommy reached under her skirt and pressed a little button. Between our legs, a 6-inch dildo sprung free and made mine look even smaller by comparison. Mommy didn’t hesitate as she then picked me up and put me right on top of the dildo while slowly lowering me onto it. I let out a girly moan as the head of the dildo pierced my ass and slowly filled it. “It’s so big mommy!” I shout as this was the biggest dildo she had ever used on me! I nearly came just from having all 6 inches inside my ass. “You see baby girl, mommy here is what’s called a switch. She just loves being my submissive little girl. But she also wants to be the dominant mommy as well.”Daddy tells me as mommy slowly lifts me again. “However, I dont feel comfortable being my baby girls sub. So we needed someone else to do that instead.” Mommy dropped me and let the entier dildo slide into my ass even faster, this time I really did cum. “And it looks like mommy trained you well, you're not even hard and your leaking cum all over the place. I guess you really do need those diapers after all.” Daddy tells me as I look down. Dispight me being very turned on, I was completely flaccid as cum leaked out of me. “w-why? “I asked as I begin to realize exactly what was happening to me. “Why? Well little miss bigshot, I've been getting very sick of all the stupid shit you have been doing for years. So when you destroyed my car and broke mommy's computer, we both wanted to do something to you.” Daddy tells me. “It wasn't very hard at all to get you do do everything we wanted.” mommy tells me. “You were already homeless and in mountains of debt you didn't even notice you sined your entire life away.” “I-i what?” I reply in a meek voice as I start to get very scared about what they were telling me. Daddy pulled out the contract I had signed two months ago and flipped to the last page. “By excepting this job, I understand that they will pay for all my debt. In return, I make________ (parent or sibling) my legal guardian. They may do with me as they like so long as the debt is paid back in full.” Daddy tells me with a grin. “That makes me your new daddy.” Before I could utter a word, mommy lifted me up again and dropped me down, forcing me to cum yet again. Though this time, she didn't stop and began fucking my asshole with her strapon! “Mommy made sure to make you into her perfect little sissy sub.” daddy sais as he watched me be fucked and leak cum all over as I just can't stop. "one part punishment, one part sub substitute for mommy." I feel like I was going crazy and could barely think of anything besides mommy fucking me. “Now that mommy has gotten this nice house as a thank you gift for taking care of little betty, were now thinking of raising our cute little girl here as well.” Daddy sais as he steps closer to me. “You're going to be our precis baby sissy.” With one last thrust, mommy hits another button and has the dildo shoot out its own version of warm cum right into my ass! ************ I awoke a few hours later after blacking out from that mind-blowing orgasm. My room is slightly dark with the door cracked slightly and I have a pacifier in my mouth. I rub the sleep from my eyes as I hear some noise. For a moment I can't make it out but as I try harder to listen it becomes very clear. “Awa! Awa! Harder daddy! Fuck me harder!” mommy screams and moans in another room as Daddy is fucking her brains out. I take a seat on my fluffy diaper and hug the closest stuffed toy I could reach. Listening intently to mommy's creams of lust and pleaser. With my ass still leaking mommy's cum, I wet my diaper and just wonder when she will be back to fuck her good baby girl again?

I would recommend getting multiple reusable bed pads (large ones) this way if (when) you leak you simply swap out the pad for a clean one this way the bedding stays dry

The Babysitter “Hannah!” her mom promptly called from downstairs, “Aren’t you gonna come and say goodbye when I leave?” “Yes, Mom!” back with just as much volume Hannah responded. Letting out a small sigh, being forced to put her phone activities on hold, and dreading for who was going to take her mom’s place for the night, she padded her naked feet across her carpeted room and into the hardwood halls. Descending the stairs, she could see by the front door her mom; dolled up in a navy blue dress, blonde hair decorated with curls, face with light amounts of makeup, and a pair of matching heels. She wore a simple silver-chain necklace, and was currently busy with the earings she always wore to match it. Each step of the way as Hannah got closer to the bottom, she could feel the slight shift in her underwear, and the small, yet noticeable bulk from her thicker than average underwear. It almost made her teary-eyed remembering just a few nights ago how far she’d fallen. Underneath her loose shorts, she could sometimes feel the elastic bands brush against her skin, and oh did it make her skin crawl. “Do you have to go out tonight, mom?” there was a tinge of whine in Hannah’s voice, and given what she could expect from tonight, it was well-justified. If it were within her power to prevent her mom from leaving at night, she’d do whatever possible. “It’ll only be for a little bit, sweetie,” her mom consoled, yet still busy looking into the mirror. “I promise I’ll give you a kiss goodbye, and one when I get back tonight,” her next statement was enough to get her to look at her daughter, though, “but don’t think that means you get to stay up.” Not only did she frown because her mom had no intentions of changing her plans, but also because Hannah had the pleasant reminder of her bedtime. 8:30 was such a cruel and unfair time to be sent to bed. It was when all the good shows started to come on! It wasn’t like this always. Maybe a month ago her mom used to be so much more lax compared to now. But now, Hannah already started to feel annoyed remembering the laundry list of unfortunate occurrences. And when she shuffled her legs, the plastic garment between her legs really threatened to bring back all her deep-seated hatred. Everything in her life had been fine. No bedtimes, no babysitters, no belittling, mandated bathtimes, child locks, or any other sort of thing that would defy the typical routine of a 14-year old girl. And especially, no pull-ups. “Can’t I have a later bedtime, please? Everyone else in my class can stay up until 10!” It was an exaggeration, and she didn’t really know how long everyone else could, but at least for her closer friends, she knew for a fact they didn’t get sent upstairs at 8:30. Hannah had tried to negotiate removing the limit altogether, but her mom had been hardwired to shut that idea down altogether. The best Hannah could try now was to mitigate what felt like her permanent losses. The cause of all this destruction and despair would be coming to watch her tonight, and like a calamity she never didn’t bring some sort of even worse development along with her. Since her last visit, Hannah’s mom had suddenly become relaxed to the idea of timeouts in the corner. For an eighth grade girl! It all started with the earlier bedtime, but originally it was 9:30! Then that damn babysitter, whatever she did, convinced her mom to not only give her one, but then knock it down by an hour! She didn’t even know her own mom anymore. She did, but it felt like Hannah’s mom was a proxy when it came to raising her daughter. The emotion was all there, but her rationale...it felt chillingly displaced. At times Hannah felt like she wasn’t seen as a 14-year old in the eyes of her mom. Certainly not when she’d been demoted to pull-ups full-time. It was another permanent life-changing act completely out of the blue, and seemingly taking place after the babysitter’s visit. And what scared Hannah even more was when she felt like she actually needed to depend on them. A few weeks earlier there wasn’t so much as an issue with her bladder whatsoever. But all it took were a few visits from the neighborhood teen, and Hannah was starting to feel...scarily uncertain about her own habits. Especially in class nowadays did she feel her newly weakened bladder strain the most. There were days where she was fine, and felt like a girl who had known panties for all her life, and was certainly misplaced in the underwear department. And others? Other days...she wasn’t so proud to admit that her pull-up wouldn’t be so dry by the time she reached a toilet... Some of her teachers were terribly restricting about letting students to the bathroom, but that never used to be an issue. Never until now. Never until her mom started hiring that woman. It all felt supernatural; the presence of her babysitter being enough to flip Hannah’s entire life upside down. She knew it was ridiculous to think that way, but the coincidence was almost terrifying… “I think 8:30 is a perfect time for you,” nonchalantly, Hannah’s mom like at many other times dismissed her plea. “I don’t want you staying up so late, anyways. You need your sleep, honey.” Using the only tool she had left in her arsenal, and one she hated more than anything to acknowledge, Hannah said, “B...but if I could stay up later, maybe I...maybe the chance of me wetting the bed would be smaller?” As the words came out she grew more and more meek, as well as embarrassed. This was one of the worst effects. With her pull-ups and unexpected bladder troubles, a certain absolute at night had become the bedwetting. A few weeks ago it was maybe once or twice a week. The next, it had upped itself to a steady three. Now? Now even Hannah knew going to bed without protection was non-negotiable, and expecting to wake up dry was wishful thinking. There wasn’t a single night left where she would wake up dry. And even if there was, her mom would probably write it off as a fluke, even if she would try and sound encouraging. Her mom merely looked sympathetic; signing how she was going to disappoint her daughter further, saying, “That’s an interesting idea, sweetie, but I don’t think the bedwetting will stop if we let you stay up later. Then you’d be tired, too.” Hannah’s cheeks burned, hearing her mom write off the bedwetting as a hopeless cause. But even if it were true, what else could she hope for if she didn’t fight? If she didn’t show some form of resistance, her mom’d probably think of it as the greenlight to stick her back into diapers! The sudden irony in her thought had her biting her lower lip in aggravation, though. For the daytime, that is. “Speaking of which,” her mom started to apply another light layer of lipstick, “I should probably pick you up another package of Pampers while I’m out…” she seemed to have made a mental note. “We’re starting to run a little bit low, and unfortunately your daytime pull-ups just won’t do the trick at night,” her voice trailed as her own appearance was clearly at the forefront of her mind, whilst her daughter felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Yes. She wore nighttime diapers. Her mom had taken advantage of the girl’s smaller than average size by using the largest size of Pampers they offered. What was even worse was the fit of the dreaded things. It was near perfect. They did their job well, and it was never a fun morning to see a yellow and discolored Elmo greeting her after a departure from pleasant dreams. She often stirred in her sleep, so somehow it was a common occurrence to partway slip off her pajama bottoms in her sleep, and sure enough showcase a liberal amount of her diaper while she slept. Hence why she stopped going to sleepovers as of late. Mornings were never fun, because not only was she guaranteed to wake up wet, but she was powerless to do anything about it. Her mom insisted on having exclusive control of her diapers, because she needed to know if her bedwetting “was improving or not.” But even from there she extended her personal control into the daytime section as well. Right after being let out of her diaper, it’d be straight into a pull-up her mom was sure to have ready for her. The gradual lack of control she was having over her own clothes was beyond annoying, and she had no idea how to solve it. How to solve any of this. “Can’t we please start using pull-ups instead? Nighties? Don’t they sell those?” in a desperate cry, Hannah tried to at least curb the infancy that was gradually increasing in her life. “They do, but not as cheap for what I can get your diapers for. And what’s wrong with those? Do you not like them?” “Of course I don’t like them!” Hannah continued to whine, a few tears in her eyes. “I’m not a baby, mom! Could you at least treat me like you’re supposed to?” Her mom’s brows furrowed, but she still never looked from the mirror. “The diapers can stop as soon as the bedwetting does,” her mom said, dimissing Hannah’s comment about disliking them. “But until then, I think you should be much more grateful that you can still fit in them.” As if she were supposed to appreciate a benefit exclusive to her mother’s pursestrings. She wanted to openly fume, but knew that her mom might suddenly be willing to dish out spankings now, too. Hannah didn’t want to test that theory, and angrily sulked on the stairs, feeling the slight press of her dry pull-up whilst she sat. “Can...can we at least change babysitters?” Again, totally oblivious to Hannah’s inner struggles, her mom questioned, “And why would we do that? I think Mary’s been doing a great job with you. You two have fun, don’t you? She always has good things to say.” Sure she did. Maybe for her mom, and how she could be a “better” parent her daughter. But for Hannah it was stupid. Whenever she’d come over, they’d talk about girl stuff, makeup, fashion, watch movies...eat a tasty dinner...play games… . .. … Okay, so what? Maybe she was alright. But god if she couldn’t be condescending sometimes! She reminded her so much of her mom now, or maybe it was better put as the other way around. It was partly why she suspected the girl without any real reason. Hannah was a young adolescent, but at the same time in Mary’s eyes just another charge she needed to look after. The sudden potty reminders that came with her demotion to pull-ups was beyond demeaning, but unfortunately more helpful than Hannah’d like to admit… “Listen Hannah,” her mom full turned from the mirror. “I know things have been tough lately with your potty training,” potty training? “but that’s no good excuse to vent in other ways. Mary has nothing to do with what’s been going on, and from the sound of it has been very supportive. You’re lucky to have a babysitter that doesn’t mind checking your pull-ups and putting on your nighttime diaper.” Oh how much a matter of perspective it was. Her mom could not even begin to imagine what it was like to be a kid, and try to live your life while being acknowledged as a toddler. And aside from all that, including this pointless conversation, Hannah still found herself hung up on the strange, and misplaced “potty training” remark. “Think you can chin up for me tonight and be good for Mary?” In a thoughtful voice, she spoke as if she assumed herself to be sweetening the pot. “Tell you what: be a good girl for Mary tonight, and keep that pull-up dry for the rest of the night too, and maybe we can talk about getting some panties back in your dresser?” As if instinct commanded, Hannah’s ears perked up at the sound of the last few words, though hating to have loved the thought of getting her panties back. But it was painful to remember she’d lost them in the first place. It was yet another shameful tactic of her mother to eliminate any “unnecessary distractions.” Hannah hadn’t known what it was like to wear underwear any thinner than at least an inch for almost a month now, and the thought welled her with despair. She was ashamed to admit that the deal sounded enticing… That being said, Hannah still hadn’t forgotten her mom’s previous comment. “But Mom, what did you say about-” She was interrupted by the ring of a doorbell. “Oh! She’s already here!” quickly dismissive of Hannah’s question, she already went for the door. “Is it really that time already?” her mom muttered to herself whilst Hannah rose from her seat on the stairs and followed behind. Her heart sunk as she knew who it was. The one she had such mixed feelings for. A caring and seemingly genuine person, but someone Hannah considered to be the root of her problems for no identifiable reason whatsoever. She’d been coming for so long, it was almost hard to distinguish whether the problems started before or after her arrival. “Mary!” “Ms. Finn!” The pair welcomed each other with happy greetings as they gave each other a hug. “You look beautiful, Ms. Finn!” happily commenting, the babysitter brushed part of her own black hair back, simply in awe at the mother’s appearance. “Really?” she looked thankful, and she looked down at herself one last time. “I was almost afraid I messed up somewhere along the way...” The two shared a laugh, and then Mary looked past Hannah’s mom, directly over to the shorter girl, mouthing a silent ‘hi’ with a gentle wave. A sudden chill crept over Hannah, or an odd sensation the very least. She assumed it as cold, namely because it felt as if all the warmth inside of her had just been drained. Drained, and...and absorbed…? Wordlessly, and lacking concern for her surroundings, Hannah pressed her hand against her crotch, and was more than displeased to find it warmer than a dry pull-up should be, and it was hardly a small accident by any sense of the word. Hannah did her best to grit her teeth and hope she could take care of the mishap unnoticed. “We’ve already been through the routine so much, I doubt there’s much need for a repeat,” Hannah’s mom chuckled, skipping the nightly introduction, much more upbeat and cheery than Hannah and the state of her pull-up. Mary, who looked to be the epitome of preppy senior high school girl, giggled in response as she probably felt the same way, but was far too polite to agree, nor state it first. She had her usual purse slung over her purple sweater, and swayed her hips the slightest bit, probably unintentionally, though all captured by her snug-fitting jeans. “But if you could,” Hannah’s mom started to sound apologetic, yet pleading, “please make sure Hannah gets to the potty on time?” on cue, Hannah could feel her dignity being shattered at that very moment. Mary listened intently, with just as much concern plastered on her face, yet coupled with much more confidence and assurance than Hannah was feeling right now. “It hasn’t been getting much better lately… I made a deal with her, and we’re both looking forward to seeing her make good on it,” she looked thoughtfully back to Hannah, who was trying her best to not be too agitated. “No problem at all, Ms. Finn,” Mary continued to smile. “I usually try to get them on the potty about every half hour. Even if they don’t know they need to go, it might help them realize in the future.” Them. It was such a vague word, yet far too inclusive than Hannah would like. It encompassed all the countless bedwetters and struggling daytime goers who had yet to fully master the potty, and Hannah had just been lumped in with them. Even if it was true, she didn’t want to acknowledge it. Mary came from a good place, but it still hurt no less. “Speaking of which, there’s no harm in checking now, I suppose...” catching Hannah of guard, her mom so casually knelt down in front of her, grabbing her shorts by the waistband and giving them a simple tug after a quick stroke with the button, easily slipping past the sleek pull-up, giving both her mom, and Mary an easy view of her borderline infantile underpants. “Uh-oh,” Mary was the first to sound sympathetic, and say it with a face as if she herself could feel the pain, “looks like you forgot to go, Hannah...” Hannah’s mom could only let out a small sigh in disappointment as she further embarrassed Hannah by giving the crotch an inspecting squeeze, which only seemed to upset her further given how warm it was. The telltale stars on front had faded; a system both her mom and the babysitter were far too experienced to not recognize. “And we just talked about this...” passively, her mom remarked. Hannah, unable to do much about her growing sobs now, stared at her mom, hopeful for forgiveness in place of the public embarrassment she’d just been forced into. “Could I please have a...” Hannah paused to sniffle, “a second chance?” Her mom smiled, but not in the way that Hannah wanted her to. It was the smile any parent would give when they were trying to soften the blow. There was a cruel fate hiding behind her mom’s expressions, and it was obvious because Hannah could tell she was trying to protect her from it. And with few places to go; few steps left until total babydom, she quivered at what might be in store for her. “Maybe we can try tomorrow,” she took a moment to hoist Hannah’s wet pull-up back into place, and the shorts came right after, despite normally being the first one to suggest getting her changed into a new one whenever this sort of thing happened. And unfortunately, it did happen more than once. But this time, it felt as if Hannah had taken another step back, and her mom wasn’t feeling so prompt to stick to the potty training regimen anymore. “But...but mom…!” She always had her get changed whenever she’d wet her pull-up, even when she was right about to leave! But that second command didn’t follow, and Hannah could feel herself wanting to desperately cling to her pull-ups now; prove that she could keep them dry. Hannah wanted her mom to get mad; angrily change her into a dry pull-up. At least that way she’d know that her mom still held expectations for her. Yet...yet, they never came. “I need to get going now, sweetie. Just...just don’t worry about this for now, okay?” She kissed the broken Hannah on the forehead. “I want you to have a fun night with Mary.” Still, Hannah felt like her mom had lost a fragment of hope; respect for her daughter, as she stood back up. She gave her daughter a pensive, lingering look for a few moments longer, then shifted her focus. “Same as usual, Mary,” Hannah’s mom transitioned back into her happy self again, now that it wasn’t about her daughter’s failed attempt to keep her pants dry. “8:30, and in a nighttime diaper, please.” Still all smiles, Mary assured her yet again, and then her mom grabbed her purse sitting on the table near the door. “Come on, Hannah,” Mary politely suggested in a hushed tone, gesturing to the sulking girl. “Mommy’s leaving! You need to say goodbye!” As if her mom were in agreeance too, she made the awkward ordeal even easier by getting on one knee again with open arms. Hannah was the one to close the distance, despite being terribly mindful of the wet bulk between her legs, as well as how it wasn’t much of a secret anymore. It wasn’t massive, but it was certainly there, and Hannah could tell, much like her mom and Mary could. Hannah was actually thankful for the hug and kiss, because it felt reassuring in spite of what’d just happened. Her mom had been disappointed, yet at least this way Hannah still knew she loved her… Though, what Hannah did her best to stomach was when she was wrapped in her mom’s arms, she could feel the back of the waistband to her shorts and pull-up being tugged at now. “Mom…!” flustered, unable to properly react, Hannah could only tearily whine the culprit’s name, and be relieved once her underwear finally slipped back into place. “Sorry, sweetie. I just wanted to make sure there weren’t any surprises in the back, either.” She let out a small laugh; the kind that was trying to force an already bad situation into something more upbeat. But for Hannah, it was just another insult to her pride; a sign of how far she’d fallen in the eyes of her mother. In the eyes of herself. Never once had she messed herself, and even amidst all this turmoil, that was the one thing Hannah was positive would never happen to her. It was an iron absolute, and she’d be damned if someone suggested otherwise. Her mother already expressed her doubts by checking in the back… It made Hannah feel terrible. It hadn’t even been a whole 15 minutes and she’d shattered the expectations her mom had set for her. The ones that were meant to last the entire night. With her final goodbyes, Hannah’s mom wished them both a good night. Mary saw her off as she slipped out the door, and the responsible teen was sure to lock the door from behind. As soon as she left, Hannah felt as if a weight had been both simultaneously lifted and dropped on her shoulders. Her mom had finally left, and the lingers of disappointment in the room didn’t feel so potent now. But on the other hand, she was now alone with the mysterious anomaly which seemed to unintentionally cause so much havoc. It was likely paranoia, but Hannah still couldn’t shake the strange feeling… And when Hannah moved, she could feel one last small spurt of pee escape her; a likely remainder to the full wetting she apparently hadn’t finished. It was enough to remind her of her helplessness though, as tears started to silently roll down her cheeks. The much more chipper Mary turned from the door after watching the mother’s car leave the driveway and was stricken with concern as she saw Hannah devolve into a miserable mess. “Hannah? Honey, what’s wrong?” quickly she came to the girl’s aid, although much to Hannah’s dismay, as she tearily noted the girl who was a mere handful of years older than her used such a condescending pet name. But even in spite of all that, it did little to shift the focus of Hannah’s tears. “Because!” Hannah frustratingly spat, feeling a small urge to stomp her foot. “I can’t do one simple thing! I’ve been wearing these stupid pull-ups for weeks now, and it’s only getting worse!” The vocal admittance only made Hannah cry harder, as her world came crashing down. Her mom was probably busy thinking how she could ease her back into diapers right now; do away with the hopeless struggle between panties and pampers altogether. “Hey, hey...” Mary continued to sooth as she started to rub Hannah’s back. “Why are you being so hard on yourself?” “I’m not supposed to be wetting my pants, Mary!” Hannah irritatingly shouted. It wasn’t Mary’s fault, probably. It’s not like she put the pee in Hannah’s pull-up for her, but she didn’t feel in the mood for pointless consoling. Words wouldn’t make this better. Words wouldn’t keep her pull-ups dry. “It’s just a small hiccup, that’s all,” seemingly unbothered by Hannah’s annoyance, she pulled the girl in for a hug. “I know you’re gonna get over this, trust me. I’ve seen it all the time.” Sniffling, Hannah responded, “re...really?” “Of course!” with a more positive tone, likely seizing the opportunity to make the sun shine once again, Mary responded with enthusiasm. “In fact, I know some kids that haven’t had trouble with just peeing, either...” leaning in close, Mary shared her encouraging gossip. “And even those kids were able to bounce back,” she leaned back, as if the invisible spectators were allowed to hear now. “So I know you can too!” “But...” Hannah was listening with inspiration, but the reality of her mistakes was still much more tangible than her hopes. “But my mom…! You saw how she reacted! She probably hates me right now. How is she supposed to trust me if I can’t last 20 minutes?!” “She might be a little upset, sure,” Mary conceded, but was quick to not let the negative statement last for too long, by adding, “but she still loves you very much. Nothing would change that.” It was only her babysitter saying those words, but they felt oddly reassuring… “I just want her to treat me fairly again...” sadly, Hannah spoke with better days on her mind. “Nothing I say seems to get through to her anymore.” Hannah grimaced already from remembering the diapers debate. “Well, you know I have a way with words?” temptingly, Mary spoke with the slightest amount of hopeful mischief in her voice. “Really?!” Suddenly all-ears now, Hannah for the first time that night clearly stared at the teen with genuine hope; rays of salvation shining in her eyes. Mary hadn’t explicitly said she’d do anything, but her allusions were far too obvious to not assume. “Sure, why not?” Mary smirked, knowing full well she’d just coaxed her happy charge back out of a dreary spell. “I can let your Mommy know it was one big fluke, because it was, right?” she looked at Hannah for confirmation, who nodded her head until it was ready to fall off. “I think she’ll understand after I let her know what a good night we had. Because that’s what we’re gonna do, right?” again, although slightly more reluctant, Hannah agreed once more. And as a side note, Hannah was once more attentive to her babysitter’s mannerisms, this time being the mention of “mommy” instead of a simple “mom.” Strange, but not nearly enough for Hannah to say anything, especially when this was the person who could finally talk some sense into her mom. “Great. Then that’s what’s gonna happen!” Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Mary tickled the center of Hannah’s palm with the nail of her thumb; something she always liked to do. Giving her skin the tickles though, Hannah quickly pulled hers away, as it’d already given her arm goosebumps. “But before we kick the night off, do you wanna get into something a bit more dry?” trying to be mindful, Mary notioned towards Hannah’s wet pull-up. Blushing, Hannah silently agreed. “I’ll meet you upstairs, then,” she patted Hannah affectionately on the head. “Give me just a few minutes?” Hannah didn’t wait long after until she was already headed up the stairs. She was more than capable of changing her own pull-ups, but again, her mom had made it a point to limit access to both herself and Hannah’s babysitter. In that regard it was the one silver lining to these things. They could slip off as easily as they came on; just like panties. But whenever her mom put her in her nighttime diapers, they were staying on for the night. That’s what made some of the earlier nights especially frustrating. She’d wake up feeling the tight stretch on her bladder, only to be forced to wet the diaper because her mom wouldn’t let her take it off. Last time she did it ended in a timeout, and no phone for the day... Hannah could only sigh in relief now that she had someone on her side for once. It’d always been a one-sided battle, but not anymore now that Mary was with her. Maybe...maybe she wasn’t so bad after all? Mindlessly, Hannah slipped her hands into her front pockets as she felt as if she were on cloud 9 right about now. Things were finally going right, and all she needed to do tonight was relax. And she did. Far more than she would have liked. A sudden rush of pee slithered from out of her bladder, and unannounced it pooled into her pull-up. Just at the top of the stairs, Hannah gasped in a panic as she was helpless to stop her second accident. She felt worse with every ounce her underwear absorbed, and nearly screamed when it became clear she’d pushed the thing far beyond capacity. The dribble slapping against the hardwood sounded like a jet engine once it leaked through her denim shorts and collided with the ground. Frozen in place, her face contorted with shame as her body finished its business, and she became a spectator to her own bladder which had a mind of its own. What...what happened?! She barely felt anything at all! And didn’t she just wet? So why was it already happening again so soon?! “Hannah?” Mary’s voice called from the bottom of the stairs, already getting closer. “Do you have a pull-up ready?” Still silent, Hannah’s mind raced a mile a minute as she couldn’t even begin to figure how she was going to get out of this one. Much worse, she’d probably just guaranteed that Mary would be backing out on their deal. Even Hannah couldn’t blame her. She wanted it to be a fluke, but this was far too coincidental. The front of her shorts and around the legs were harshly dampened, and there was a small puddle of pee sitting on the wood. Even in front of the light mix of brown and orange wood could she still see the distinct, yellow tint. “Okay, let’s get you all cleaned...up…?” Mary started her sentence with a casual tone, but it quickly morphed into confusion as she rounded the corner on the stairs to see Hannah planted awkwardly on top of them. There was one small, final drip from the edge of her shorts, and when it made its tiny plop with the ground, the house stayed silent. “H...Hannah...” “Why…?” the single word was simple, set packed with every negative emotion the young girl could imagine and drum up within herself. She questioned not herself, nor Mary, but fate which had dealt her these cards. Sodden and sopping, her legs were now far apart. “I just went...so why?” As she emptily murmured, as pair of arms wrapped around her neck, and hung themselves downward. Feeling the bigger girl press from behind her, the sign of affection and comfort was much too overwhelming to not have a breakdown. “I don’t get it!” between her sobs, Hannah shouted. “I can barely tell when I need to go!” Having a single accident was already bad enough, but a second one and so ridiculously soon was enough to mentally push her over the edge. She didn’t want Mary’s hug to stop, but it didn’t make her feel much better. “Hannah, please,” Mary spoke hurtfully, as if the girl’s distress were poison to her. “I want you to focus on having fun tonight! Can we please not stress over the small stuff?” “This isn’t small, though!” The disconnect between the two was now clear, given that wet pants only seemed to matter to the one responsible for them. “Everytime I screw up, my mom uses it as a reason to baby me even more!” There was no room for failure, because anything short of success meant two more permanent steps back, which is why every mishap had the weight of the world crashing on her. “Come on, Hannah, please, I just wanna make you happy again!” She spun the girl around so that she could meet her eye to eye, but Hannah looked no less sadder, and if anything, worse. She didn’t want to meet the face of someone who caught her pants covered in pee. “Go ahead!” Hannah spat bitterly, already knowing what was to follow now. “Tell my mom I wet myself again. Tell her...” Hannah’s bottom lip quivered, finishing her words, “tell her I can’t handle pull-ups...” “Hannah, there’s no need to be so upset...” Mary continued to speak in calming tones and coos, clearly involved in her efforts to make things right again. “How about...” Mary seemed to be thinking for a moment, “how about we sweep this under the rug altogether? All of tonight? As far as I’m concerned, no accidents ever happened, and we got you to the potty whenever you needed it.” It was a godsend, and it was the next best thing compared to dropping off the face of the planet; escape her irreversible mistakes. But it almost felt like she were dreaming. The deal sounded too good to be true. “But why?” Hannah’s sobs started to die down as she rubbed her eyes, “why would you do that for me?” Mary gave Hannah’s cheek a light stroke, smiling, “because I hate seeing you so sad, silly. I’d much prefer seeing you with a smile!” Unintentionally, an involuntary smirk escaped Hannah over the overflowing affection, which had Mary laughing happily. “Now come on, no more tears,” Mary spoke reassuringly, giving Hannah a few final pats. “Want some help getting cleaned up?” Mary asked, holding an outstretched hand. Hannah eyed it almost nervously, but given how accepting Mary had been, as well as helpful, it almost felt wrong to deny her any further...and she felt like she could honestly use an emotional crutch right about now. Accepting the girl’s soft, yet firm hand, they made a brief walk to the bathroom, whilst Hannah grimaced from needing to take normal strides in pee-covered pants. The added layers to it all just made it feel wrong. She was in a soaked pull-up, but on top of that so were the clothes covering it. It was like she shouldn’t have been wearing the pull-up at all. Now it just felt like an unnecessary barrier; delaying the inevitable. Inside the white-tiled bathroom, Mary stood Hannah in place. Just as Hannah was about to go for her shorts, Mary had already been working at the button before she herself could even actualize the thought. While the right to remove her own pants were taken from her, Hannah longingly looked at the toilet. It felt like she was seeing a stranger, or a long lost friend. A once well-acquainted pair now becoming more estranged with each ‘little accident’ she had. To use it was a sign of maturity, and though it was so close right now; in the flesh, it couldn’t have felt any farther away. What was a cruel reminder to dismiss the big-girl thoughts and to remember exactly why she was using the toilet less and less, was when she felt her shorts taking a brief moment to work themselves around the puffy crotch of her underwear. It wasn’t a fun sight to see, and was a stark contrast to the simple colors and plain designs Hannah was so used to seeing in normal panties. Along with the thin, breathable fabrics, flexible feel, and sense of maturity, everything Hannah had known to be commonplace in regards to her underwear had been shifted entirely. In place of her comfortably-cut panties that knew just how to maintain a level of modesty without being so overbearing, a pink pull-up decorated in moons and stars--correction, once decorated in moons and stars, now sagged heavily around her hips in place of what all her friends had the privilege of wearing. Instead, for Hannah, she was stuck with the underwear that had clearly been pushed beyond its comfortable capacity for absorbency’s sake. Hannah started to blush again being back on full display, but for the most part it was all in her head, given that she could feel no ridicule coming from Mary; just sympathy. “Step out for me, please?” Reluctantly, and while Mary still had a hold on Hannah’s wet shorts, she could feel the wet denim brush across her skin and damp inner thighs as Mary lowered them to her ankles. She stepped out of the one thing barely coming even close to hiding her shame. Maybe in another, dryer life they had done their job well, but now the wet stains on them were far too telling. “Okay, I’ll be right back. Think you’ll be good for a few minutes?” The question was probably rhetorical, but seeing as Hannah had just had two accidents within a handful of minutes between each other, she didn’t receive it that way… Mary sauntered off and out of the bathroom, with Hannah’s wet shorts in hand; the last article which shrouded her absorbent indignity. Left with only but her thoughts, Hannah could only find that by focusing on her bladder 100% did she feel any real sense of security. Although she wasn’t sure how certain it was, the next pull-up would certainly not face the same fate as this one; not by a longshot. This time with a tinge of smugness, Hannah forgot about how silly she might seem, clad in a wet pull-up, when she looked at the toilet; certain of where she’d be next time nature called. It wouldn’t be fun to be changed into a pull-up by Mary, and also make constant trips to the bathroom, assuming what she said earlier was true, but even Hannah knew that some of the tougher things in life were simply worth fighting for. She was already caught in a poor streak, and she’d do anything to fix that now. Just as she was about to start counting bathroom tiles, Mary’s distant footsteps could be heard again, and they grew louder and louder until she had returned. With a skirt, and likely a pull-up bundled underneath it, she held the items in one hand and a package of wipes in the other. Seeing the “Baby Wipes” branding on it didn’t make Hannah feel great, but reaffirming herself, she grit her teeth. If she could get through a little bit of humiliation now, she could be the mature, young adult which fate was hellbent on trying to prevent. “Ready to get all cleaned up?” Mary smiled as she looked at the red-faced girl, quickly coming to terms with how her bark was certainly larger than her bite. Meekly, she nodded her head as Mary inched closer, kneeling to the ground to have a better handle on her charge. “M...Mary?” Hannah quickly broke the silence, suddenly feeling desperate to have some sort of distraction. She didn’t feel herself wanting to take in each and every speck of what was about to happen. “Mhm? What’s up?” Mary responded with a casual tone, despite doing something so embarrassing to Hannah as she tore the sides of her wet pull-up, and the underwear for a brief moment still clung to her skin. The adhesion caused from her recent accidents still remained, and clearly feeling uncomfortable, Hannah wiggled her hips the slightest bit just to get the accursed thing off. Thankfully it didn’t take long for the motions to separate the thing from her skin, and it hit the ground with a slight crinkle and squish; one last reminder to what had been done in it. No tears. I’m done wetting myself, remember? “Wh...why do you babysit?” Hannah asked, feeling her heart beat faster as the circumstances grew more and more unappealing. She’d probably asked before, but she was too flustered to really think about the semantics; too desperate for a conversation, or an outlet for her attentions. She watched as the girl she wanted respect from changed her wet pull-up into a dry one. How could she be seen as an equal if she couldn’t even keep her underwear dry? She felt small, and as if Hannah were unconsciously looking for a reason to belittle herself further, she took glaring notes of how Mary curved all over. And here Hannah was, with only curves coming from the crotch of her inflated pull-up. In regards to Hannah’s question, whether she had asked before on a previous night or not, Mary didn’t seem to give any indication, as she answered, “Well...I suppose I’ve always liked taking care of kids, you know?” The way she ended it on a “you know,” wasn’t actually what she meant, but was a typical way of ending an answer even you weren’t sure of yourself. Hannah wasn’t keen to hear that she fell into that category right now. Needing to be taken care of. She had figured the babysitting would have stopped this year after her fourteenth birthday, but she suddenly jolted as the cold, wet wipe touched her skin. “Sorry about that, I know it’s a little cold...” Mary spoke, looking genuinely apologetic. Hannah blushed furiously as what was already happening came to the forefront of her mind. Her babysitter had a full view of her privates, and private toilet habits, and she was in charge of both of them. Hannah grimaced to herself as she thought about Mary. She was old; a teenager getting ready to move onto college; primed for handling adult responsibilities, and long past the issue of holding her bladder. She didn’t wear pull-ups, and she didn’t have to worry about wetting the bed. Well, neither did Hannah, but that was because of certain ‘protective’ measures… Almost shaking her head from side to side, just to chase the thought away, she tried to take stock in a mundane bar of soap in the shower while Mary did her work. She wanted to disobey, and insist on doing it herself. Sure, she’d never personally handled her own cleanup after something like this, but that’s because her mom never let her! It was people like Mom and Mary who were supposed to take charge, but Hannah wanted to prove them wrong. But, if she did try to protest, she’d likely only make trouble for Mary...and she was honestly trying to help. Just as she was becoming desensitized to the cold wet wipe, Mary ended it with a few last strokes between the legs, then discarded the wipe. “I probably should have gotten a towel...” passively, Mary remarked, looking around to see where they might be. But Hannah didn’t really pay any attention, because now that they’d run the first two laps, she felt confident that she could send it home. “Wait, Mary?” Hannah asked again, garnering Mary’s attention once more. Suddenly, she tried not to mind how she was naked from the waist down, but rather focused on wanting to be the one who changed that. “Can...can I put on the pull-up myself?” Mary was silent for a moment, then said,“W, well...I don’t see why not,” almost sheepishly answering, but smiled with an expression that uncomfortably told Hannah that she was hiding something. Something Hannah was afraid to discover. “But...” her voice trailed, as her eyes moved over to the skirt wrapped around the pull-up. Despite Mary’s unusual awkwardness, Hannah was already swelling with pride to finally have a sense of agency. Confidently, she made a small stride to the pull-up underneath, and grabbed it through the skirt’s fabric. But clearly the skirt was thick, because the folded pull-up within it certainly felt so. F...folded? Unwrapping the pull-up from the skirt, Hannah pulled it into clear view as she realized what was in her hand wasn’t a pull-up. Far from it. As she stared down at the white garment, all too familiar Elmo caricatures stared at her with smiling expressions. Panic had seized her voice, as Hannah wordlessly continued to stare at the diaper, in utter shock from its sudden and untimely arrival. What had it done with her pull-up? Suddenly, she felt as if she were looking at an enemy which had disposed of her treasured friend. She felt like she could gag when she squeezed the thick layer of plastic and cotton, all wrapped into a disposable, infantile package. This was only supposed to come out right before bed! So...so why? With disappointed curiosity, she turned back to Mary, on the verge of breaking into two. Now she understood why Mary had answered so reluctantly. Hannah could put on the next pull-up. That is, if there ever was a next time. “A diaper?” thickly Hannah whined. “I only wear these for bed! I’m supposed to be wearing pull-ups!” She wanted to say panties, but she at least wanted to sound rational… “I know, Hannah I know,” quick to console, Mary put a comforting hand on Hannah’s shoulder, but she still felt terrible. “But will you at least hear what I have to say? Please?” Already wiping a frustrated tear from her eye, Hannah remained silent, apart from her sniffles. Mary must have assumed the silence meant yes, because she continued. “Hannah, you’ve already had two accidents since I got here, and we’ve still got a lot of nighttime left...” the way she spoke in such an unintentionally condescending way, suggesting that Hannah wasn’t up to the challenge. “I know you want to wear your pull-ups,” she spoke as if she knew Hannah down to a T, when that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Hannah by no means wanted to wear these stupid things at all! She wanted panties, not some childish substitute! Pull-ups were at least the limbo between adulthood and babydom, and right now Hannah was having a breakdown because she was swaying the wrong way. “But I really think we should have you wear one of these tonight,” she gently removed the diaper from Hannah’s hand. And as Hannah watched her expressions, it made her want to cry even more. Despite how much evil her babysitter was unleashing upon her, all she seemed to harbor within was kindness and concern. She thought she was helping Hannah, and maybe objectively she was, but Hannah didn’t want to see it that way. If she didn’t resist, that would imply acceptance, and there was no way she’d resign herself to pull-ups; especially diapers. Irrationally hoping Mary might discard her own logic, Hannah pleadingly asked again, “But why? Why can’t I just wear pull-ups? I’ll be better, I promise!” “And I know you will,” Mary consoled, taking Hannah’s empty hand, doing the same thing she’d always do with her thumb. “Because I want you to know that I won’t think any less of you for wearing one. Think about it this way: I’m the one who forced you to wear it, so that way there’s no reason to beat yourself up over it,” she looked to Hannah as if it were a suitable solution. Maybe that idea could have worked somewhat if Hannah were 7, and the very person responsible for it didn’t give her the idea. By openly suggesting it, it was as if they both silently acknowledged it was a lie. Mary was the one forcing her, but someone or something had to have forced her hand first… Despairingly, Hannah looked at the diaper, knowing that once she was in, there was no getting out. “But what happens when I need to use the bathroom?” “Well...” Mary looked to be thinking hard, and her delay to answer felt as if Hannah’s worst fears were about to be confirmed. “To tell you the truth, you don’t have a lot of diapers left… One more, actually.” The sudden remark had sent a chill up Hannah’s spine. One more?! Did she really go through a package of 20 that fast? Maybe she really was helpless… “One more we can use tonight,” Mary added, barely doing much to break Hannah from her depressed state. “I already set one aside for bedtime.” Hannah wasn’t sure how it made anything different, other than trying to be a convenience to her mom. And frankly, her mom’s feelings were the last thing she cared about right now. “If you need to go...” Mary still looked not to be totally onboard with what she was saying, but continued, “I don’t see too much harm in taking you to the potty.” Finally, with a ray of hope in sight, Hannah looked at Mary as if she were her savior, and was all smiles yet again. “But if you don’t make it,” she transitioned into a friendly, yet serious warning, “we’re not gonna talk about using the potty for the night, okay? Those tapes can only come off so many times. They need to stay on to do their job.” Hannah didn’t even want to consider her final clause. The assertiveness she packed into the threat of permanent confinement was scary, but Hannah knew she’d never let it slip that far. She’d never fall so far as to let these dumb things “do their job.” Mary had paused to keep searching for a towel, and her efforts were rewarded once she opened the closet. Pulling one out, she unfolded it and draped it over the floor, giving it a signaling pat for Hannah to lay down. Nearly gulping, Hannah while keeping her thighs close together wiggled over, and debating whether to actually go through with this or not, she was rushed along by Mary’s firm, yet gentle hands on her shoulders. “The sooner we get started, the sooner it’ll be over,” Mary encouraged as Hannah laid her back on the towel, or rather, Mary gently forced her to. With her hands covering her privates, her feeble attempts to maintain some sense of dignity were lost when Mary once again with guiding force set them aside. This probably would have been her cue to say something like, “Nothing I haven’t seen before,” or, “We’re both girls, aren’t we?” But maybe the mind games were so deep at this point she knew that Hannah was thinking the same thing, because nothing was said. The whole process felt wrong. It was like having breakfast for dinner. Something you did every day, just at the totally wrong time. Being diapered for any other occasion than sleeping wasn’t a welcomed change, and it certainly felt strange. If she closed her eyes, which she did, it almost felt like her mom was changing her. Despite Mary only being a teen, it still felt like Hannah was being handled by a motherly figure, which she didn’t appreciate. She did, but she didn’t, namely because it widened the already decent age gap between the two. Diapering her though expanded that wedge by light years. How could Hannah talk to her about boys when she was too busy trying to keep her pants dry? Why learn how to do her own makeup when she could be taught how to change her own diaper instead? Nothing was fair, and the compassion Mary was using on Hannah to ease her into it was equally as pleasant as it was condescending and demeaning. Mary was a caretaker first, and a friend second. The change was concluded by Mary drawing the front up between Hannah’s legs, then pressing on the tapes. Normally her pajamas would come next, but in its place was a skirt. Such revealing clothing was immediately a turnoff, but Hannah didn’t bother arguing, already expecting a slew of reasons why she should be wearing a skirt rather than pants. One of the most glaring and personal ones though was that her normal pants and shorts probably wouldn’t fit over it...When Mary stood her back up, the plastic leg bands crinkled loudly. Much louder than her pull-ups. Was it weird to say that she was already missing them? “Okay, I need to go clean something up, but in a little bit how about we play a game or something?” Mary suggested, and though she made no obvious indication of it, they both knew what mess she had to clean up. If Hannah had somehow hit her head of the concrete and forgotten what’d just happened maybe 15 minutes ago, she’d certainly remember when she saw the puddle of pee going back downstairs. “Sound good?” “Mhm...” Hannah quietly answered, still trying to find her land legs; adjusting to such a massive paradigm shift in her underwear. “Don’t worry about what’s happened already,” Mary chimed in as Hannah was walking away. “I’m sure tonight is still gonna be fun!” Maybe it was, if Hannah could just forget about one of the most traumatic things she’d ever done. What made her suddenly yelp though was a light swat from behind, hitting her crinkly, yet thankfully dry diaper. Clutching the imaginary wound through her skirt as if she’d been shot, Hannah looked back at Mary with burning cheeks. Mary blinked simply with a smile, and without letting the silence linger for too long, Hannah stormed off and out of the room. It was the moments like these where her perception of Mary could change entirely. She didn’t know if she was kind, caring, or teasing and mean. For the most part she was nice, though… Maybe she just didn’t realize some of the things she did? Avoiding the puddle of pee like the plague, Hannah walked down the stairs and into the living room, hoping some tv might be able to save her from this endless nightmare. Thankfully the entertainment at least did something for her. Laying on her side, yet making sure her skirt was covering everything underneath it, she mindlessly watched the moving pictures while in a mix of thought and observation. And as she watched, the commercials, shows and noise all started to blend together. She could almost imagine a hum in the background too. It was all so...soothing. Her eyelids grew heavier as she laid there, and she closed her eyes for a few seconds. Then for a few more. Then a minute. Then five. And then, they didn’t open back up. Dozing off for well an hour, when Mary nudged her awake, Hannah, still groggy, couldn’t place why Mary looked so concerned. What was up with her? “Hannah, hon, are you okay?” “Hn? Mary? What are you…?” “I think you took a little nap...” Hannah moved while Mary spoke, and a sudden, wet, cold chill pressed against her thigh. Looking over, there seemed to be a large, dark splotch on the gray couch. No...she hadn’t. But she had. Even if it was a nap, a bedwetter is always a bedwetter… Sleep did not discriminate… “These aren’t too good for side sleepers, huh?” Mary chuckled sadly, clearly seeming sympathetic. She placed a soft hand on the drier of the two thighs, and Hannah tried her best not to sob. “Don’t worry,” Mary smiled; that same face she’d always give in the face of despair. Unmoving, inalienable positivity. “We still have one more diaper!” Looking much more somber though, she added, “But a deal’s a deal...” No more toilet. “...Can I put some on?” trying to stay calm, yet with a clear hint of desperation, Hannah asked. Normally she’d never feel the need to ask permission to put on her own underwear, but it was almost frustrating to think she didn’t even recognize them as her own anymore… “...Sure,” Mary happily answered after a few moments of thought. “A little encouragement is good every once in a while, I guess. But the diaper stays on,” still kind, yet with authority Mary added. After the diaper change, Mary talked her into a game of hide and seek. Reluctantly, Hannah agreed, given that there was nothing which would seem to put her in a good mood now… She was the hider, and Mary was the seeker. Without any real reason she chose her mom’s room, hoping to burrow herself under the bed. Though in the process of that, she found something much, much more intriguing. A seemingly simple cardboard box, upon opening it was the jackpot itself. Sanctuary. Valhalla. The equivalent of any sort of salvation, and sanctum! Pulling apart the cardboard flaps, in it was all the panties that’d been removed from her dresser. Forgotten friends, Hannah had just discovered what her mom had done with them all! The more she stared at them, the greater the desire was to have a pair around her hips. Hannah hated to think that this was a tease more than a grand return to adulthood, but staring at the pile of cloth underwear made her feel like she’d just discovered buried treasure. It was enough to make her forget almost entirely about her current circumstances, and how far she’d fallen. Settling on a pair of blue and white striped ones, Hannah stared at the pair of panties in her hands, knowing full well that they would fit her. They were once hers, after all. Bringing them to her feet, she could feel the bulk of the diaper between her legs as she slightly moved them apart. Stepping her feet into one hole, and then the other, it felt euphoric to feel the wonderful fabric slide across her legs as she drew them up. So wonderful, a tiny meep escaped her when a small spurt of pee escaped her. She had no intention of telling Mary, though. Something other than plastic leg bands were around her thighs though, and that’s what mattered the most. It would have been perfect, only until instead of slipping across her skin, pressing against her groin, the panties instead slipped over the crotch of the crinkly diaper. Obviously peeking from all ends, the white, infantile diaper overflowed from all openings where the panties ended; a harsh and morbidly humorous contrast. She wanted to feel good about wearing panties again, but the diaper which sat between her and the panties was too demoralizing. It was like her bladder was a prisoner, and her panties had been so kind as to visit her while in confinement, and the diaper like any detention center kept visitors out. “Feel good?” Mary hopefully asked, fully unaware of how Hannah was feeling on the inside now. Hannah would likely die inside if she looked in a mirror. Although it was nice to think she was wearing panties again, she probably would have looked like a poor excuse for a young adolescent right now. Probably a toddler who got a little bit too excited and thought they were ready to be a big kid a little too early. Rather than a pair of panties, you could probably call it a diaper cover that was doing a poor job… Quietly, Hannah sniffled. She didn’t think getting what she wanted would have felt so terrible. “Come on,” Mary broke the silence, tickling her palm with her thumb. “Ready to go brush your teeth?” A familiar tingle sparked through Hannah’s hand, and a strange wave of relief washed over her, coming from the hand. As if all her muscles suddenly relaxed, she felt slightly sluggish as comfort overcame her. But with it, a sudden pressure in her bowels too. No. You can’t be serious. “M...Mary, I...” Hannah tried to plead, but her body seized all over, and she was afraid to be denied on the grounds of their earlier promise. Helplessly, she could feel her body force itself into a squatting position. “Hannah, are you alright?” Hannah tried to grit her teeth, as the force was too strong for her to stop. She didn’t even try to run to the bathroom, coupled by a list of reasons. If she ran, the cramps would probably give way and she’d do it on the way over, and Mary may not even let her. The diaper’s tapes wouldn’t happily go on afterwards, and that would probably upset the babysitter further… As the unyielding force finally drew to the exit, a helpless grunt escaped Hannah as her cheeks involuntarily spread for the rude guest currently making its way through. She could hear the diaper’s backside crinkle as she filled it with poo, forcing the back of the diaper to expand. Instantly she devolved into whimpers and cries as the mess settled itself and slowly snaked from her backside into the seat of her pants, and with muddy squishes conformed to the shape of her diaper, creeping between her legs. It smelled terrible, and Hannah took exasperated breaths as her diaper suddenly felt much heavier, and clung to her skin in the worst imaginable way possible. And in the middle of her messing, the pressure hit too close to her bladder, which is why it released itself as well, but with significantly less strain. After the rush of pee finished its course, squatting in a soiled diaper, Hannah could only fall to her knees as she cried. “It...it was an accident!” desperately, Hannah tried to coherently plead through her tears, and her vision was too blurred to see Mary. She tried to remain as still as a statue from the waist down, irrationally hoping that there was some way she could be absolved of this very literal mess without needing to move. She could only imagine how comical she looked; a bulge coming from the back of her diaper, and by extension the panties she tried to wear over it. Her underwear was a living oxymoron; wearing adult panties over a baby diaper she just messed. It was all too overwhelming. Everything was crashing, and she was right at the center of all the wreckage. “Come on, honey, think you can stand up for me?” Mary at some point had taken Hannah’s hands into hers, though not doing her signature palm massage. She spoke almost somberly, yet with a likely reserved cheeriness to coax Hannah out of her worries. “If you want to be clean again, we can’t have you sitting here!” again, trying one last time to be upbeat. The tears kept coming regardless. And as Mary consoled Hannah, Hannah noted that amongst all the kind and encouraging words, not a single one of them regarded it as an unfortunate accident. Despite being in such emotional turmoil, Hannah was aware enough to know that she wasn’t being treated as a girl working on pull-ups. Quite the opposite. The way Mary eased her back onto her feet, and gave the waistband of her diaper a reassuring upwards tug, though the slight jostle just made the mess even worse. Not like it mattered, because she had to start walking--no, waddling, eventually. Now it was Mary’s turn to seem like her mom. Just like when she walked out the door earlier this night. Both of them had silently lost faith in Hannah, and she knew it was well-deserved. Even if Mary did keep her promise, the inevitable would happen with or without her influence. It wasn’t a matter of if, but when. It only made Hannah cry harder when they passed the wardrobe mirror, seeing herself so distraught. Underneath her skirt was the backside of her messy diaper just peeking; possible to see because her mess had forced the diaper to expand outside the blind spot. And just along the edge she could see the pair of blue panties struggling to stay on. It was as if they were trying to abandon her, too. It was a stinky, painful waddle back to the bathroom, where Mary cooed as she did her best to quarantine the mess. Back on the towel, Mary undid her tapes, and both equally happy and sad as it happened, the weighted diaper hit the ground with a plop almost immediately. Finally with room to breathe, the diaper’s odor filled the bathroom to uncomfortable levels. It made Hannah of course well with shame, and she could even see Mary’s nose scrunch the tiniest bit, but she was no less comforting. A few wet wipes later, Hannah had finally been cleaned of the mess she made in her pants; something she had never expected to happen in a million years. “There, see? All clean now. No more messies,” Mary continued to soothe, but the demeaning language only unnerved Hannah further. Yet at the same time, it was nice to have someone there for her… “I think it’s about time we get ready for bed,” Mary spoke simply, still devoid of any real judgement, at least any negative judgement that was. “I’ll go get your jammies, so wait here for me?” without waiting for a response, Mary stood back up, but not without grabbing the pair of panties too. “Wait!” amongst her sobs, Hannah finally spoke to Mary clearly. She turned back, open to hearing what Hannah had to say. “Can...” she felt the tears coming back already, knowing she was in no position to make demands, and equally as much for adult ones. “Can you let me keep the panties?” If anything, the only consolation she could have was at least getting to hang on to a pair. She didn’t want all this misfortune to be for naught. A pair of panties couldn’t fix anything in her life right now, but it could at least make her feel somewhat better. Mary was quiet for an uncomfortably long amount of time, like she was debating whether or not to humor a toddler. Had it not been for Hannah’s factual age though, this would have been true. Then she sighed, as if it were against her better judgement. “Mommy better not see these, got it?” Mary looked back to Hannah with a warning stare, as she handed them back to Hannah, who could only cry tears of joy. Desperately, Hannah nodded her head, as Mary temporarily left the room. Desperate for maturity, Hannah eagerly drew them up her legs, disregarding her skin still slightly being wet from the wet wipes. She drew them up with such exaggeration, the sides went well above her waist and the fabric had been stretched the slightest bit, just so she could drive the point home by feeling alone she was wearing panties again. It was like a breath of fresh air; almost enough to make her forget about the messy diaper she was standing next to. Wanting to figuratively soak in them for just a little bit longer, she let go of the waistband, waiting for it to conform to her waistline and sit propper. But instead, she felt them slip down her legs, and back to the ground. She was melancholic as she stared at them, quickly realizing just what the problem was. They had been stretched when she put them over the diaper, though just slightly. Slightly was enough to break the straw over the camel’s back, though, as from looks alone Hannah knew they wouldn’t fit her anymore… The only reason they had stayed on for as long as they had was because she was holding them in place. Her bottom lip trembled as she came to terms with this, knowing the only way they would fit her now was if she wore a diaper underneath it. Even when she got what she wanted it wasn’t right. Nothing was. Like the prophecy had foretold, it was another night of despair, and she had no idea why. Mary came back with the last diaper and a pair of pajamas, as promised. Hannah hadn’t mentioned a single word of the panties never fitting, and didn’t say anything at all. Not when she was laid down, not when the diaper was slipped under her bottom, not when it was drawn up between her legs, and not when the tapes’ adhesives came into place. Mary had apparently dug deep in Hannah’s dated wardrobe, because she had a pair of Disney Princess bottoms and shirt. The last time Hannah could remember getting themed clothing like that was when she was maybe 9 or 10. Hannah didn’t argue though, because she figured she’d already given Mary enough trouble for one night. As defeated and decrepit as Hannah was, it made her feel even worse knowing it was at the expense of someone else who had to take care of her. Hannah whimpered when the pants were drawn up, because they mostly went on right up until the halfway point on the diaper’s plastic landing strip, just giving the Elmo designs a small wall to peer over, otherwise known as the waistband of her pants. “They don’t fit...” Hannah quietly remarked to no one in particular. “I think we just need to give them a little stretch, that’s all,” Mary continued to tug at the pants, and they eventually did go over, but Mary stopped at a point where the fringes of the plastic waistband were still peeking. And because she had stretched the small pants so much, the crotch visibly conformed to the bulge of Hannah’s diaper perfectly, and though she couldn’t see it, also came close to form-fitting the elastic bands around her legs too. It was no secret to what she was wearing now. The shirt was small too, but somewhat fit better than the pants did. Her belly button was never covered, though. Mary watched Hannah brush her teeth, and once she was finished, the two were already in Hannah’s room, getting her into bed. “I’m sorry things didn’t go so perfectly tonight,” Mary sympathetically smiled, but still aware of the damage which had been done. “But again, I don’t think any less of you.” She gave Hannah’s arm one last stroke. Hannah was too emotionally drained to say anything. She had been put through the ringer tonight and was likely on the fast track to diapers, if not there already. When she partly moved on her side, the crinkle coming from her bottom reminded that she likely better start getting acquainted to. But before she left, Mary said one last thing. “And don’t worry, I’ll still talk to your mom,” and on that final positive note, Mary turned off the lights, and closed the door. When Hannah woke up, it was at some point in the middle of the night, if her window was any indication of that. She peeled back the covers, and when leaning forward felt the wet squish in her diaper. It had been dry when she went to sleep, and clearly she had been too involved in her dreams. It didn’t hit her as badly as a daytime wetting did, though. Especially not a messing one. She didn’t know why she woke up, but she did want to do one thing, even in her dazed state. Still without getting out of bed, Hannah leaned over to the side, fishing her hand underneath the bed’s skirt, pulling out what she was looking for. Snaking off the pajama pants her sleepy self had fumbled with already, she drew up the new article of clothing. Now in the presence of a diaper, they were snug-fitting again, and although depressed to know how it would work only this way, Hannah thoughtfully pressed a hand to the stretched panties. Pulling the covers back up, she went back to sleep while she silently wept. “Ms. Finn! How have you been?” “Great, Mary, and you? Is the college hunt going well?” “It’s definitely a search, alright,” Mary chuckled, as if this hadn’t been the first adult to ask. “But, I’ll find out eventually.” “I’m sure you will,” Hannah’s mom agreed. “I need to get going soon, though. Think you can handle Hannah tonight?” “Think I can handle a little diaper duty,” Mary spoke confidently, snickering at the joking challenge. Hannah’s mom made an uncertain noise, as if she weren’t so sure Mary could. “Whatever you say. Whenever she messes in her sleep, though, that’s the real challenge.” Mary solemnly agreed. “The worst of it is when they squish it all around without even realizing it… Poor things.” “Anyways, 8:00 tonight? She’s got a sleepover for tomorrow, and I want to make sure she’s nice and rested.” “Will do, Ms. Finn!” again, Mary happily saluted. “And also, since you were last here, I moved Hannah onto the boosters, as well.” “Oh?” Mary curiously asked, “What for?” “The wettings have been getting more frequent,” she paused for a second. “And larger… Don’t get me wrong, her pampers work well, but sometimes she needs a little something...extra.” “Well, I think I can handle that. Saves me from at least one extra diaper change, right?” “Well…” again, Ms. Finn didn’t seem to be totally onboard with the joke, saying, “you’d think...” “Oh! And also,” Hannah’s mom spoke again, as if she forgot an important detail. “No covering up her diaper tonight, okay? I’ve been reading a few blogs, and an important part to getting her used to her diapers is by keeping them out in the open. That, and it’s better to know when she’ll need a change,” she seemed to add it like an afterthought. “Got it, got it, got it,” repeatedly, Mary assured. “8:00 bedtime, use the diaper boosters, and no pants either.” “No skirts, too,” she partly corrected. “It’s been tough, but I think she’s finally starting to get used to it.” She sighed somewhat, staring off into space. “We won’t be going back to the potty for a bit, so I at least want her to be comfortable… Look at the time, though,” she turned her head back to the hallway. “Hannah?” she called, “Mommy’s leaving! Come and say bye-bye!” It took a few seconds, but you could hear the girl coming before you can even see her, announced by the crinkly noisemaker around her hips. From a single glance, the crotch of her unobstructed pamper diaper looked a little more pronounced than it usually would. It didn’t fold in on itself, and was unusually round. Almost like there was an extra layer inside of it… Her pace was slow as she shuffled down the hall, as if trying to minimize the sounds she made with each step, while doing everything she could to not stare at the babysitter. It was the first time she looked like this in front of her, after all. Nothing had changed. Each and every time Mary came back, things somehow got worse, and this time was no different than the others. Mary silently waved with a smile to Hannah, while she nervously came closer, veering towards her mom. “...Bye mom…” They were two simple words, yet it sounded as if it took a great deal to even mutter them out loud. “Goodnight, sweetie,” Hannah’s mom spoke in a tender tone, as if she were sending a toddler off to bed. She got on her knees and before she even hugged the girl, slipping a finger in between her leg band and thigh. Hannah meekly whimpered, but stood still like a statue, almost as if this wasn’t the first time this’d happened. “Just a little soggy,” Hannah’s mom simply commented, unlike her last departure which held much more disappointment. Turning her head to Mary, as if Hannah wasn’t even in the room, she said, “She shouldn’t need a change until she goes poo. She’s usually good about that around this time.” Hannah, still listening despite being forgotten, grew embarrassingly wide-eyed at the comment, though not daring to look anyone in the eye. Mary slowly nodded her head, passively eyeing Hannah’s reaction. Hannah then received and gave her hug, but while locked in it, she felt the firm pat to her plastic backside. It was almost enough to make her cry knowing that’d change eventually, but maybe she could negotiate something with Mary… “Have a good night, you two!” Hannah’s mom ended it with a kiss to the trembling Hannah’s forehead, then waved a goodbye to Mary, closing the door behind her. As if the door shutting were a cue, Hannah fell to her knees in a sob. “Hey...hey...” Mary rushed over to her, stroking her back. “Come on, there’s no need to be sad… Did you go already?” It only made Mary cry harder, now knowing her emotional distress had now become associated with the state of her diaper. Her legitimate concerns came second to her bowels and bladder. She’d been barred from panties, and the last of the pull-ups had been thrown out. All that was left in the house for her were diapers. Her mom somehow found out she found the box of panties, and thus she tossed the whole lot into the trash altogether. That was a rough day, by far. Taking too long to give Mary a verbal response, she pulled back the waistband of Hannah’s diaper, and not finding what she expected, set it back into place. “I thought...” Hannah sobbed, “I thought you said it’d get better?” Without any real explanation, Mary could only continue to soothe her. “Come on, where’s the big girl I know so well? Diapers or no diapers, you’re still my favorite gal to hang out with?” Hannah knew it was probably a lie, but having someone so understanding, although belittling, was a genuine comfort that had grown on her. It probably all was just one big coincidence, and a happy one at that. The loss of her bowels and bladder were something supernatural she couldn’t explain, but at least the universe had gifted her Mary. She was kind, understanding, supportive, and attentive. Sure, she may have checked Hannah’s diapers and changed them, but that was her job. Hannah couldn’t expect her to not do such. What was weird though was when Mary said, “Besides, look at it this way: no need to worry about the bathroom anymore!” “H...huh?” Mary innocently giggled, as she rubbed Hannah’s shoulder. “All I’m saying is that it’s a lot less stressful now, isn’t it? I remember last week when you were still on pull-ups. That was a bumpy ride, right?” Awkwardly Hannah shrugged, but she’d much rather fight for her pull-ups than surrender to diapers. “M...Mary?” “Hm? What is it?” “Do you think we could do it like last time?” “Like what last time?” “You know...not tell Mom about tonight?” “What wouldn’t I tell her?” Mary asked with genuine curiosity, unsure of the answer. “My...my accidents? Tell her I didn’t have any?” Still, Mary looked troubled trying to decipher what Hannah figured to be as clear as day. “Hannah, honey, what accidents?” “You know!” in a teary whine Hannah complained. “In my...diapers?” “Hannah...” Mary had furrowed her brows in a sorrowful form, as she looked as if she were going to break some dreadful news. “I did that last time because you were in pull-ups. But now?” Simply, she gave the crotch of Hannah’s diaper a squishy squeeze, causing the pee to stir in it, and forcing Hannah to blush furiously. “You’re not wearing pull-ups anymore, sweetheart.” She tried her best to give a loving smile, but it was obvious she were trying to break some bad news gently. “Accidents don’t happen in diapers...” With her bottom lip trembling, Hannah’s fresh tears came back as reality set into place. “Maybe I’d be willing to hear you out if you were in pull-ups, but do you really think that’s the best for you right now?” Streams rolling down her cheeks now, and suddenly one coming from her bladder, she shook her head no. “Let’s not worry about pull-ups anymore, okay? And look at it this way,” she tugged up the front of Hannah’s sagging diaper. “No more pull-ups means no more accidents!” still hushed, Mary sounded upbeat. “Mommy’s not mad anymore, right?” It was a morbid fact, but there was some truth to it. Still, that didn’t excuse the price she had to pay in exchange, though. She continued to sniffle as Mary stroked her hair. “And if it makes you feel any better, I think you look very cute in diapers,” she leaned a bit lower to catch Hannah’s eyes in the middle of a downward gaze. Hannah looked away, still frustrated by the circumstances. She had no reason to be angry with Mary. In the end this was all her own fault. All she was trying to do was make her feel better… “Wanna go watch some tv?” slowly lifting Hannah’s chin with her finger, she looked at the girl hopefully. Hannah nodded her head, and taking the babysitter’s hand, they walked down the hall she came from. She had finally reached it. Rock bottom. Not even Mary could save her. “So you’re having a sleepover tomorrow, huh?” Mary asked, trying to change the topic. “Looking forward to it?” “I guess...” Hannah lied, dreading tomorrow night. She wanted to go, but not as she was now. The only reason she broke her golden rule was because her mom did for her. All it took was a single conversation between her mom and a friend’s, and like that Hannah had involuntarily been signed up for a night with her friends. And of course her friend’s mom now knew about her diapers, because if Hannah’s mom wasn’t going to be there, what responsible adult would be? It would certainly be a rough night. She wasn’t even sure if she had clothes that could fully conceal her new underwear. If her mom had a complete say in it though, she never would. As they were about to round the corner, a sudden cramp hit Hannah’s abdomen, knowing full well what was to come, and unfortunately just as her mom predicted. It was impossible for Mary to not notice, because she was suddenly stopped by the anchor her hand was tethered to, and turned around to see Hannah already frozen in place. The bowel movements had become so frequent now she didn’t even need to squat anymore. Face ridden with a thousand yard stare, she grunted helplessly as her bottom trembled and the back of her diaper started to fill itself. The diaper slightly crinkled as it expanded, and Mary, still holding onto Hannah’s hand suddenly stopped tickling her palm with her thumb. It took Hannah a second to even realize she was doing it to begin with. Finishing her unfortunate mess, Hannah remained speechless as she stood there, waiting for something other than the smell to hit her nose. “I’m...I’m sorry...” in a frazzled stutter, Hannah tearily tried to explain herself. “That’s alright,” Mary pat the top of Hannah’s head. “It has to go somewhere, right?” No more accidents. It was expected of her. “You head on into the living room, okay?” Finally letting go of Hannah’s hand, she gave her a suggestive push by pressing her hand against the back of Hannah’s diaper, nudging her forward, but smearing the mess in the process. “I can just change you in front of the tv,” smiling, Mary waited for Hannah to keep walking. Quietly, nodding, Hannah walked bow-legged into the living room, messy diaper in tow. Every step of the way, Mary watched her stinky charge toddle off to the room, with a devilish smirk forming a wider and wider; a bigger, toothy grin with each step. Once the girl was long gone, Mary turned on her heel and back to the stairs. Walking into Hannah’s room, she opened the drawers to her dresser, where the pull-ups would usually be, but were now instead an array of child-printed diapers. Picking one out, Mary eyed them disapprovingly. With a sudden shift in tone, as if full of mischief, trickery, and sadism, she tutted, “Much, much too thin...” With the snap of her fingers, a purple spark erupted from the tip of her nails, and the diaper in her hand started to grow visibly thicker; nearly twice in size. She reached her other hand into the bag of diaper inserts sitting plain as day next to her dresser, deciding against making it any more ‘absorbent,’ too. Expectantly, she looked around the room, checking near the wet wipes for something she expected to find, but was severely disappointed, though mostly annoyed. “Stupid woman,” bitterly, she scoffed to no one in the room. “You can’t even buy baby powder without me telling you to?” She knew she had to be explicit when she used her magic on others, but the devil in the details was always annoying at times like these… “Sorry, Hannah, baby,” she added the last bit in a syrupy voice. “Looks like you won’t be smelling so sweet tonight...” And already with a destination in mind, she walked over to Hannah’s bedside, leaning over, kneeling near the bed skirt. Lifting it up, her eyes barely scanned the area she was just seeing for the first time, and with her target in sights, grabbed what she was looking for. “Poor thing...” with both hands, she held the garment in front of her eyes, seeing the panties had clearly been stretched out. “Still getting ideas...” sighing, the snapped her fingers once more, and the garment had vaporized into nothing. Truthfully, it was Mary’s fault. She was the one who teased the poor girl. She remembered to instruct Hannah’s mom to throw out the panties, but admittedly she forgot about the pair the girl got away with. Not that they would have ever fit her without a diaper, but the last thing she needed were reminders of what she once wore and who she once was. Grabbing the wet wipes, she walked back down the stairs. Hannah probably was thinking right about now it couldn’t get any worse, and she was right. In fact, it never got any worse. In Mary’s world, at least. In her’s, it only got better and better. And there was certainly much more fun to be had. She chewed her thumb for a moment, thinking deeply, wondering if there was some way she could chaperone Hannah’s sleepover tomorrow… She looked at her thumb nail thoughtfully, wondering just how many friends of Hannah’s she could show off her diapers to… Tabling the idea altogether, she walked back into the living room where Hannah was still standing awkwardly; not even daring to sit down. She watched the tv nervously, still shivering in embarrassment. Mary watched silently with a smile, seeing the full diaper sway to and fro. But going back to the babysitter facade, her smile shifted back to a much more innocent one, tapping Hannah on the shoulder. She must have been too quiet, because Hannah suddenly jumped, simultaneously trying to turn around, but in the process lost her footing, falling right on her diapered bottom. The tv’s audio was just low enough for the both of them to hear the squish, and Hannah’s face visibly grimace and contort; mortified by the substance seeping between her legs. Mary looked apologetic as she came close, stroking Hannah’s cheek. “Ooh, I’m sorry, Hannah,” instead of helping her back up, Mary took advantage of her position and laid her down further. “Boom boom went smoosh, huh?” At this point, Hannah was at a loss for words as Mary situated her. “You know, Hannah,” Mary casually spoke as she undid the tapes to her diaper. “I’m really happy I got to babysit you.” As she wiped her messy bottom with a wet wipe, clearly proving privacy no longer existed for Hannah when she leaned in close, asking, “Are you?” Overwhelmed, Hannah, busy looking at the leg of the coffee table, tearily nodded yes. Secretly, Mary writhed in pleasure as she watched the troubled girl’s expressions. And it would only get better. Better and better until she truly had reached rock bottom. She would be cute and adorable then, but the chase is always the best part… Thoroughly breaking down Hannah was what she lived for… She was just about to massage Hannah’s palm again, then stopped herself. Personally, Mary didn’t feel like cleaning up a wet rug… She’d do it after she was diapered. The lingering effects for when she did this were far too obvious, and Hannah’s bladder and bowels were certainly taking the brunt of it. Maybe just a few more times, and she wouldn’t even be feeling the need to poo anymore, or at the very least only realize she needs to poop by the time half of it’s already in her diaper. Or maybe to really drive the point home, she could make the potty monster real. In Hannah’s imagination, at least. She’d feel safer making a mess in her pants than on a scary bowl that could grab her at a moment’s notice… Both ideas were exciting, and equally a possibility. She’d need to flip a coin on it, or even have Hannah decide, maybe? She could just mask the decision as what they were eating for dinner. It was always fun to see them unconsciously spell their own demise. The best part was even if Hannah did have any suspicions, they were objectively absurd, and it’s not like Mary was going anywhere. She’d been “looking” for a college the past three years. In the meantime, she made ends meet with her babysitting jobs. And what kids need a babysitter more than the ones in diapers? Yes. They need ones for a long, long time.

-_-_Chapter 2_-_- “Taylor…” a voice called out. I opened my eyes briefly, but the lights were too harsh, and quickly shut them, bringing my arms up to rub the sleep from my eyes. Only, my arms were bound, this time I found they weren’t bound in the cold, metal, cuffs I had been in, but a warm, cotton fabric. A solid hand wiped my face with a damp towel as the lights were dimmed, “is that better?” a voice sang out. I tried opening my eyes, blinking them into focus. As the fog lifted from my vision, I made out a woman standing over me, smiling. “What the…” I couldn’t find the words, “fudge.” I finished with the only word that came to my mind. “Hi there,” I looked around trying to find where I was. The lady blocked a bit of the view, but I could make out a massive room, painted in a light blue, with a yellow patterned chair rail wallpaper. There were framed pictures I couldn’t place, and some light colored wood furniture. I looked back at the smiling lady. She was pretty, in a way that was hard for me to state, but there was something off. She wasn’t hot, just pretty, with long cinnamon colored hair, and plain face. She was average build, and it took a few seconds to realize what I was missing. She was tall, no, massive, she had to be at least twice my height. I tried to wiggle to the corner of the cell, but her arms swooped down and pulled me up. “No no no no no!” I yelled as she grappled me up to her chest. “It's ok hon, Momma’s got you,” she said softly while patting my back. “Wha..” I started, before I made the mistake of looking down, my feet being nearly 10 feet off the ground. I tried to grab her shirt through the cotton binding, as I’d much rather risk being in the arms of something that could crush me in an instant, than fall this far from the ground, as this giant was trying to call herself my mom. I figured that as an indication that until she realized her mistake, I’d at least not get hurt. “I’ve got you sweetie, you’re okay,” she said with a chuckle in her voice, hugging me a bit tighter. I peeked out and saw that I hadn’t been in another cell, but a crib. A huge crib, the size of a king bed, along with some childish looking sheets and a stuffed animal I couldn’t immediately place. She smelled nice, not overly perfumed, but she had a nice homely smell to her as well. I tried to ignore the bobbing and tucked my head into her, fearing a fall, or what she could do to me if I were to piss her off. “Oh, is someone finally up?” I heard a male voice from behind me. “He’s a bit scared, so I kept him swaddled,” she replied in a hushed tone. “Here,” he started as I heard a shuffle, “let’s get him in his chair and see if he wants to talk.” I felt his huge hands grab my torso, and quickly set me down as he removed the cloth wrap, before clipping a belt around my waist. “Where the frick am I?” I said spitefully. I was pissed, terrified and confused, the massive people and furniture, along with their words made no sense. Giants definitely did not exist, that I was pretty sure of, as it would be pretty easy to spot them in crowds. The couple standing in front of me were easily tall enough to pass for statues, standing at least a dozen feet above me. “Woah, sport, calm down.” said the man squatting on his knees so we were nearly face to face. He looked tidy, clean shaven with a nice haircut. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, and had the ‘I’m the cool, trendy grown-up that knows the current trends’. “You’re in your new home,” he said, putting his arm up to present the room like a magician that performed an impressive trick. “Okay… and why are you the biggest creatures I have ever seen?” I sounded whimpier and uneasier than I meant, but it was still sincere. “We’re your new Bigs,” the woman replied from my side, depositing a cup of water, “and you’re our new Little.” She sounded so matter-of-factly, like it was obvious. She put her hands on the man’s shoulders, and rested her chin atop his head. “What do you mean?!” I was getting more frustrated, ‘obviously they are big, that’s a no brainer’ I thought to myself. “You’re in Ardenia,” smiled the lady, “and this is your new home. We are called Bigs, because, well… we are rather big, compared to you cuties,” she chuckled out, “and you’re our little, which means we adopted you to be ours.” I must have looked as confused as I was, as she continued. “Normally people come here on their own terms from your dimension to live a better life here. Where they get adopted into families, and live as a Little.” “Woah, woah, woah. What do you mean by dimension?” I interrupted. “Our scientists discovered a way to open a portal into your dimension, but it's an exit, not an entrance. Meaning things can go from your world to ours, but there’s currently no way back.” She paused. “Normally people are sent after an interview and deposit, but your father's work gave him a jump in the waitlist, if we got you.” he reached up for her hand and rubbed his thumb on hers. “So I’m not even on Earth?” I looked down as I felt tears welling up, ‘not that i would miss anything or anyone, but leaving a planet is pretty extreme’. I felt a massive finger under my chin, pushing my head to look at them. “Would you honestly want to be there, in a cage? You’d be locked up with bad people, instead of with us.” She said it like it was an obvious choice. “How do I know what it's like here? For all I know you’re just waiting to grill me and eat me!” They laughed, hard. It took a second before they caught their breath, and she started approaching me. “NO! Don’t touch me!” I yelled trying to get as far into the chair as I could. She froze, wide eyed. “We’re not going to hurt you Taylor,” she backed up again, “We realize this is not the easiest transition, but do you really take us as Little eaters?” I remained stiff and quiet. “If that were the case, why would we have bought all this stuff for you? You’ve been out for well over a week, why would we take care of you and wait if all we wanted to do was hurt you sweetie?” “My name isn’t Taylor.” I said. I couldn’t just answer that I didn’t know why they did all they said they had done, nor could I prove they were lying. “We changed it, we wanted to leave the bad behind you, and felt that starting from scratch was the best option. We could have erased your past, and Jack thought that wouldn’t be right, and I agreed. I wouldn’t want to forget my past, it makes you who you are.” She slowly inched her way towards me. I didn’t fight it this time. She unbuckled the belt, and picked me up with ease, heading to a sofa, and sat me on her lap while the guy followed behind, bringing a sippy cup, holding it while he sat on the other side, looking at the woman calling herself my mother. “Why do you keep calling yourself Mom?” I asked. She looked puzzled, and looked at her husband, at least that is what I had to assume. “That’s the Big and Little dynamic,” he smiled, “ I know you didn’t know what you were signing up for, that was made clear from the beginning, but your Mother and I are your new parents. We are gonna take it slow to ease you into it, but if you feel the need, we can take a timeout to discuss, like what we’re doing now. Some things are not up for debate though.” I had no response. What was there to say? If I ran, they’d catch me before I could scream stop, and how could I refuse, saying no did not seem at all like a response they would take for everything. On top of all that they were impossibly strong! “What things are not up for debate?” I asked as calmly as I could muster. “Well, your medicine, your doctors say you need another few days before the pain should be tolerable.” She started, “nap times are going to be necessary as your body isn’t used to our days. You’ll be on a liquid diet for a while, until your stomach is ready for real food. You will have to stay close to us in public, don’t want you getting lost out there.” She poked my belly with that last point. “And his diapers.” the man added. “My what?”

Haha, I've been trying to work on this since March, and the title kinda gives it away too. Its a subject I hadn't seen and wanted to explore it myself. I am trying to proof read, but should have chapters 1 & 2 up later today as they've already been written. I'm glad to have you interested! Please don't expect every update to be this quick, just want to get what I have out. -------- -_-_Chapter 1_-_- I woke with a daze in my head, and my eyes blinded by bright white fluorescent lights. I could hear what sounded like traffic in the near distance. A familiar, if not beloved sound. It not only meant I was near society, but that I was in the hum of the city, my city. But where? I sat up, only to find my hands and legs restrained to the bed posts. ‘Right, I’m still fucked.’ I thought to myself. My orange jumpsuit had been replaced with a white, long sleeve top, and white sweatpants. “Good morning,” said a sweet feminine voice. I jumped, not seeing or hearing her prior to this. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. I’m Jeanne Claude, your case manager for the duration of your stay here. I’m going to unlock your hands, don’t try anything, okay?” she said as she sauntered over to the bed from above my headboard. “Can I at least breathe?,” I asked with a chuckle. She cracked a smile as the cuff clicked open and handed me a glass of water. I drank hastily as she wandered back to her chair and came back producing a document and a pen. “I need you to fill these out and I trust you aren’t gonna use that pen for evil.” she said with a wink, exchanging the glass for the paper and pen. A few items were already filled out and I skipped ahead to the first available prompt: Name: George Paul Veroa DOB: 04/20/1995 Reason for Departure: Refer to Case number 113498976 HPD Next of Kin: None Duration of Stay: Life Allergies: No known allergies Medical Conditions: Doctor will inspect upon boarding Height: 5 Foot 9 inches Weight: 190 Lbs. I stared at the form. A life sentence? I thought I was signing up for some freedom! I sighed, signed the bottom of the form and held the form up for Jeanne to take back, “is that it? It doesn’t seem like a lot of information.” She took the forms and smiled, “The rest of your forms are already filled out due to your… situation. I’m required to cuff you back until your exams are due. Arms up please.” I complied and made her job easy. No use in putting up a fight if I’m being given a favor, hopefully it actually was a favor. “Where is this place? Where am I going?” I asked looking forward. “I am unfortunately not allowed to say anything other than, it’s a better place than you would have been sent to. Trust me.” She added emphasis to the last words. ‘Why the mystery?’ Jeanne bustled out the door and I listened to the traffic, so distant, yet so close, pulsing like a heartbeat of the city. I laid in the bed for a few hours, mostly in my head, but trying to decipher the riddle these people were giving me. ‘Where the hell am I going!’ I was getting frustrated, this is obviously not a cheap place, high tech equipment surrounded me, it was clean, and I was in clean sheets and clothes. Just then a different nurse opened the door and wheeled in a wheelchair. He assisted me in getting me in, binding me into the chair, and making chitchat all the while. I mainly just listened as he navigated the blank white corridors until we finally ended our adventure in a room with normal dentistry materials. Michael and I again did the dance of unsecuring me, and resucuring me into the chair. I was looking at the posters lining the wall of human anatomy and benefits of certain prescriptions when a sharp jab went into my arm. As I whipped my head to see what happened, the male nurse was disposing of a syringe in the hazmat bin. “You fucking as…” I started before my vision faded to darkness. “Mr. Veroa, you there?” a voice called out. My eyes were heavy and struggled to open. When they finally opened and adjusted to the brilliant white lights, I saw Michael standing next to me. “Hello! Sorry about that, due to your, er, violent past, we needed to make sure you didn’t bite us as we did some work on you. You have a couple issues that will get corrected enroute but other than that you’re ready!” He said with a smile. “Whatever,” I replied, ‘how long is this goddamn trip that they’ll have all this done?!’ I pondered. “When do we leave?” I asked, hoping for a few days to rest, the bed was comfy, and not having to do menial tasks was nice. “In two hours, but we need to get you prepared to go.” He dropped a medical looking outfit on my bed, and continued, “put that on and knock on your door when you’re ready to make your way.” he stated as he waltzed out and slammed the door. “My cuffs…” I trailed off as I realized I had free motion again. I gave two solid braps on the steel door and waited back. A security officer swung it open and stood by the door. “Umm, where should I place the sweats?” I asked him. “Toss them on the bed and let’s go,” he said firmly. I followed his orders and stood just outside the door. “All the way down the hall, last door on your left,” he pushed my back as he finished his sentence. I didn’t say anything, holding back my tongue in fear of what I might say. Instead I just moved at a swift pace and kept moving. The hallway seemed to stretch for over a mile, taking 5 minutes to traverse to the end of the hall. The guard unlocked the door and ushered me through locking it once I crossed the threshold. The lights were once again brilliant, but the glossy white walls and scuffed white tile amplified the rooms’ brilliance tenfold. The room was segregated by thick curtains, leaving how big the actual room was to my imagination. There were several pieces of medical equipment and chairs, monitors that were turned off, and a couple people in average medical attire moving about. I had a million thoughts racing through my mind, but Michael and Jeanne were there to break my wonderous thoughts. “Lie here George, and we’ll get you hooked up to your IV and gurney,” Jeanne said softly. I did as I was told and was quickly secured to the gurney. Michael performed the medial side of the preparation, IV, catheter, charts, etc. were all good for the departure. “Alright, George. I need you to count down from 10 for me please.” Michael said with a smile. I saw another syringe in his hand. “Ten, nine, eight, seve…” and the world faded to black.

Scene #45 Mary gets frisky after having a migraine. A couple days after the aftershocks pass and she can move her head quickly without feeling like her brain is bouncing off the inside of her skull, and she gets rather solicitous, wanting to thank me for tending to her so delicately. And what else would I do? She’s my Mary, and it’s my job to take care of her. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it’s a role reversal. It’s just a marriage. Solicitous in what way, you ask? In the best way, of course. “Ow! Fuck!” “Excuse me, young lady,” Mary said from her position behind and to my left. “Sorry.” “We’ll just hafta start over now,” she said and lined up the school paddle again. “Please no. I OW!!!” Ooh. I’d have some narsty bruises for at least a week. Just because we’re lifestyle doesn’t mean we can’t cook up a sexy scene now and again, and I’d been going through the closet cleaning things out when I stumbled across the school girl outfit Mary bought me and made me wear to Target. Having a bit of time on my hands, I broke out the sewing machine while Mary was in her office and made it a little bit, what’s the word, slutty. I wrote my own note for detention and took it dutifully to the Headmistress. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice,” Mary asked as she tapped the paddle against her leg. “No Miss.” “Excuse me?” “I mean, no, Sister Mary. I OWWW!” She’s so good at that, you might suspect she went into catholic education just for the opportunity to paddle troubled young ladies like myself. “How many is that?” “Two, Sister Mary.” We don’t roleplay often, because who needs to in our house, or break out the school paddle because it’s not our favorite. They sorta go hand in hand, so if we’re gonna do the one, we might as well break out the other. Nor do I bend over the kitchen table very often. Mary prefers me over her knee, where I also prefer me, but Sister Mary insisted over the knee spankings are for the little girls. If she was hoping to get me to admit I fell into such a category, she could keep hoping. “You have two more.” “Yes, Sis OWWWW!!!” Urgh!! Fuck! I sometimes wish I was normal and my idea of a good time with my wife was assembling a jigsaw puzzle, but we are how we are. “Last one.” CRACK! “Aieeee!” My arms we’re shaking as I pushed myself up from the table. My entire diaphragm was shaking as I tried to stay calm and keep my hands from going straight to my butt. Funny, if it were a real punishment, I’d have been sobbing right then, a total mess begging for Mary to forgive me. But it was just role play. I guess I needed some confirmation I was still me and not a weepy emotional dumpster fire after so many months of pandemic and ageplay nuttery. If I could take six from the school paddle and not need to be mopped up off the floor, that was some nice reassurance I was still a functioning person. “You wanted to show off,” Sister Mary said to me, “so you’re gonna show off.” She tucked the skirt into its own waistband and left me bare assed for the entire school to see. If only enrollment wasn’t down to just me I’d be getting some wonderful attention. Whatever happened to the field hockey captain with the secret hard on for me anyway? Of yeah, she got expelled for unladylike fondling. “Now,” Sister Mary said to me with that predatory look in her eye, “the rest of your punishment.” “The rest?” “Hush, child, unless you need more ...” She eyed me hard looking for any sign that’s what I needed. “... you are to write a list of ten reasons why you are not too old to spank. This list will be completed by lunch time when I come out of my office. Is that understood?” “Yes, Sister Mary.” “Just how well you write this list will determine whether I send a note home with you at the end of the day. Is that understood?” “Yes, Sister Mary.” “Good. Now, come stand right here.” She pointed directly in front of herself. I shuffled over with even those tiny movements enough to make my ass hurt. I got within a foot when, “Mmmm! (sigh) (kissy noises) Eeep!” Sister Mary kisses better than any nun I know, even if she insists on squeezing bruised butt cheeks. Or maybe especially because she insists on it. I grabbed the notepad and pen from where we keep it in the kitchen drawer. Once upon a time it was used to make grocery lists. Now that groceries are being delivered, it does that less. I sauntered into the living room and debated for about two nanoseconds between lying face down on the couch and cannon balling onto my perfectly spanked ass before I happily eased my butt down onto the cushions and settled in, letting the ache remind me how much I like everything about getting spanked. I like the way it hurts when it’s happening. I like the way it hurts right after. I like the way it hurts days after. I like the way it makes everything so sensitive. I like the way it feels when lowering my spanked butt into a hot bath. I like the way it feels under jeans and skirts and just hanging out there for all to see. I like the way food tastes after I’ve been spanked to a sobbing, endorphin-fueled mess. I like the way Mary makes me feel about four inches tall when she’s scolding me and about ten feet tall when she’s telling me what a good girl I am for taking my spankings so well. So I suppose the number one reason why I’m not too old to spank is that I love it, but that wasn’t the answer Sister Mary was looking for. Putting myself into the headspace of the only, and worst behaved, student of Our Lady of Perpetually Swollen Backsides, I had to come up with ten good reasons. Reason Number One was easy: because Mary says I’m not too old to spank. ‘Mary says’ is a good reason for just about everything in our house. Reason Number Two was also easy: because Sister Mary says. Half a dozen of one, six of the other. Hmmm. Reason Number three: because my behavior demonstrates I have not outgrown the need for discipline. Both Mary and Sister Mary would appreciate that one. Four: because I don’t get spanked enough at home. Sister Mary would no doubt agree, circular logic though it was, while regular Mary would set about correcting that mistake. Five: because I haven’t outgrown having such a spankable butt. I mean, I can’t be too old for spankings if my butt just cries out for more spankings, amiright? Six: does anyone ever really outgrow spankings? I don’t think so, and neither does Sister Mary. Seven: I’m only thirty-one. Eight: without the threat of spankings to keep me in line, I’d no doubt run wild. True story. Staying up all hours. Running barefoot with the dogs. Raising hell. Listening to Adele at hard rock volume. Just awful behavior. Nine: years on a calendar mean nothing. There’s a damn good reason for lots of things. Ten: I don’t wanna be too old for spankings. And me not wanting to is a reason neither Mary nor Sister Mary has ever successfully spanked out of me. I thought that was a pretty good list, but let’s face up to facts: Sister Mary is exacting and kinda a bitch. Definitely one of those dungeon master sadist nuns you read about in, um, places with books. She’d most certainly be alerting Mary to the fact that I was paddled in school, and sympathetic as Mary can be, she’s rather stern when it comes to the rule about getting spanked away from home: you get spanked again at home, too. Did I mention all this role play stuff works best if you don’t delve into the logic? I think part of the trouble with this school is instead of being in class like I’m supposed to be, I was assigned lunch duty instead, which is fine by me because peanut butter. Sister Mary looked over my list as she sipped her milk. “Well, some of these are clearly too snarky to be taken seriously, young lady, and there are definitely some things missing from this list,” Sister Mary said to me. “But it’s moot because I already called home.” “Drat,” I said flatly. “And I have some instructions you are to carry out before the end of the school day.” “O darn.” “Keep pushing it young lady, and see where that attitude gets you. Come here.” “Yes, Sister Mary.” O but goddam she needed to just cancel whatever work she needed to get done that afternoon. I thought the whole work from home during a pandemic thing was all about flexibility, and we both had needs we needed to meet the fuck out of. That’ll teach me to start with the role playing so early in the day. I stood in front of Mary aching for whatever she was gonna do to me. She flipped my skirt up in front. “You are to ensure you are ready to pass an inspection by five o’clock. Not five-o-one. Understood?” “Yes, Sister Mary.” Okay, so I wanted to fail that inspection epically. No doubt I’d fail (always do) but I wanted to fail in a way that guaranteed I’d regret never having failed so hard before. Of course, failing epically requires perfection, ironically. I’m pretty good with keeping up with all the ladyscaping I do, but I took my time that afternoon in the tub getting every part of me all spic and span, whatever that means (I think it’s a nautical term?). I lingered in the tub for a bit doing, um, stuff. It’s not like we’re method actors when it comes to role play, that’s for sure. I just woke up and wrote myself a note for detention because it was a Wednesday and I think we deserved a fun day. Mary does get frisky after she recovers from a migraine, and I get frisky in anticipation of it, and I didn’t know what was on her schedule, but for sure we’d manage to fit something in. (Ha! Accidental dirty puns are the best kind). And besides, as Mary would tell you, I’d gone four days without a spanking, and that surely meant I was on my way to being in trouble. Might as well just get the spanking out of the way and see what other joyful things we could find to do. Of all the ways I’ve ever bratted, I never failed an inspection on purpose. I’ve never had to. By the time Mary gets to the last part, I’m not, as she would say, fit for company. She says it’s because I’m just a dirty little girl who needs to try harder, and I say it’s because her standards are too high and her technique too handsy. It comes down to the heather grey test: if she were to slide a pair of heather grey cotton panties up my legs and seat then snugly, would any of the grey be, um, darker than other parts? I’ve passed every part of inspections except that part, and it may, if you ask me, have something to do with the way Mary’s inspections are so tactile. If she could just keep her hands to herself, who knows what amazing heights I may soar to. Besides, if Sister Mary sent a note home, whatever the hell that means, I’d be getting my bruised bottom spanked anyway. Might as well do something to really deserve it and maybe get some other funishment along the way. “Daphne Ann,” I heard from downstairs round about a minute to five. “Upstairs,” I called back. “You have some explaining to do, young lady,” she said as she sauntered upstairs. I didn’t actually see her saunter, but I know my wife, and she’s never not sauntering when she’s on her way to do things to me. Also, in my imagination, she’s always sauntering because it’s just what she does, being all sexy and stuff. I took being ready for an inspection to mean she wanted me nude and standing in front of the ottoman. She likes to sit there while inspecting me so she’s at eye level with, um, parts. “I can explain,” I said as sexily as I could manage. I should’ve turned the air conditioning down. I had goose bumps. “Look how nicely you obeyed,” she said to me with a glint in her eye. “Of course I obeyed. I’m very obedient.” “You wanna tell me what gives,” she said as she put a hand on each shoulder and rubbed my arms to warm me up. “What part?” “Why don’t we start with that detention note you wrote this morning addressed to ‘Sister Mary.’” “I told you to buy a nun outfit weeks ago.” “You just felt the need to get your bottom paddled this morning. Is that it?” “Well, you always say I get all out of sorts if I don’t get spanked for a few days.” “You do, and,” she said stepping around behind me, “as long as you started that little game, I think we should finish it. Is Sister Mary a hard spanker?” Yow! Mary sure loves to a squeeze a bruised butt. “Y-yes.” “And what exactly did you do to get such a hard spanking?” “I, um, got caught looking in the girls’ shower.” “Well, that’s just silly, Daphne Ann. You are a girl. You coulda been in the girls’ shower.” “Now ya tell me.” SMACK! Aww, she really loves me. “And what did Sister Mary do?” “You can see.” As in, the marks were very much apparent. “But I wanna hear.” “She bent me over a table...” “And...” “She paddled me.” “How many times?” “Six.” “Six!?! That’s an awful lot for a little girl.” “I’m not a little girl.” “And this list she had you write. Is there anything you’d like to add to it?” SMACK! “Eep! Um, not that I can think of at the moment?” Damn, but she couldn’t keep her hands off me. She’s only got the two, but they were in five places at once. Her breath was hot on the back of my neck. It was obvious enough she wanted to skip to the end. “You’re looking awfully clean.” She took her left index finger and traced a line from the back of my neck across my shoulder, down my side and across the small of my back. “W-why do you li-like inspections so much,” I ventured to ask. “Because it’s a perfect excuse to check every part of you one (kiss). Spot (kiss). At a time (kiss). Arms up.” She likes to narrate as she goes, tracing her fingers here and there like she has a pair of white gloves on. “I like to check,” she says, “that you’re keeping up with all your hygiene. Like making sure you’re smooth in all the right places.” She took a deep breath through her nose. “And smelling like pristine everywhere.” She’s a she-wolf is what she is, always trying to sniff me out and eat me. Hehe. “And I like to check that all your ticklish spots,” she kept going, “are still ticklish.” She brushed my underarm with the back of her hand. “And that you’re staying in shape by making sure everything is as firm as the last time I checked it. Like these.” “Hhhh!” “And these.” “M-marry.” “On your back with your knees open.” Don’t gotta tell me twice. I got o the bed and did as she bid me, and she checked things thoroughly, at least as thoroughly as she could without borrowing Sandy’s med fet toys. “I want to compliment you,” she said. “On w-what?” “On keeping yourself so shiny and fresh. Can’t be easy what with all the time you’re spending in potty pants.” “Don’t be mean to me,” I pretended to whine. “It must help that you don’t have a hair on you. Very nicely done.” “I’m very detail oriented.” “We’ve talked about what this part of you needs to be like in order to pass an inspection. Do you think you pass?” “No.” “And why is that?” I’d have answered that I could feel my own heat radiating off her hand back at me, but I was having trouble with my tongue working in the moment and specifically me not swallowing it when she pinched... “Hhhh!” “That’s strike one,” she said. I counted three, but whatever. Ha! Mary slid off the bed and took an ankle in each hand, straightening out my legs. I kinda love it when she does this. “Over,” she said, and then I was face down. Told ya she was a ninja. I love that she can just flip me over, and she has a standing invitation to do it. “Let’s look over the back half of you ... Such strong shoulders,” she said, kneading my back muscles, “under such soft skin. You’ve been moisturizing.” “Mhmm.” “And this butt,” she said, “what a perfect shade of spanked.” “Sister Mary does good work.” “She’s an expert.” One of her hands, then the other were on my butt checks. Kneading, massaging, squeezing. Spreading. “Tsk tsk tsk.” Mary laid down next to me and brushed a strand of hair out of her face. She had one of those smiles of hers on. “You make the days fun, Daffodil.” “Quit stalling,” I told her. “Stalling? What am I stalling?” “Your findings.” “My findings,” she said and scooted closer, “are that you’re pretty as a picture, fresh as a daisy, clean as a whistle, and that your inspection is an abject failure.” “Ya don’t say.” “I do say,” she said. “Setting aside the wetness I found ...” “And the redness and swelling,” I helpfully pointed out. “That too. When I tell you to present yourself for an inspection, what should you be wearing?” “Nothing.” “Nothing. But I found something.” “No you didn’t,” I said. “But I did.” “I don’t see a thing,” I riposted. And I didn’t. Not a speck of clothing or other wearables visible. In that position. “You have to look in just the right spot,” she countered. “Perhaps you forgot it was there.” “Mayhaps.” That got a funny look. “Or perhaps you thought I wouldn’t notice.” “Could be.” “Or perhaps you put that plug in deliberately so I’d have no choice but to punish you for your insolence.” “That too.” “You know I’m going to leave it in for your spanking,” she said. Hellz yeah I did. Hehe.

Chapter 3 Mei-Lin called the number and the pleasant sounding female voice answered, “Hello, April speaking.” “April, this is Mei-Lin,” she started, “Our mothers were college friends and my mother suggested I see if you would be interested in rooming with me off-campus.” “Mei-Lin, yes, my mother mentioned she had a friend who’s daughter was a student,” said April, “I’d love to get out of the dorm. I’m working at a place downtown this summer and that would work out for me.” “Great!” said Mei-Lin, “I have a place picked out and if you like it I can put down the deposit today. Can you meet me at the address I’ll text you, say around 11 AM today?” April’s grin was clear over the phone, “Oh, that would be great! I’ll be there!” The girls met in person for the first time at the front door of the house Mei-Lin had hoped to rent. It was a two-story row house, like many in this part of town. It was older but updated with modern fixtures and HVAC. The girls couldn’t have looked more different. Mei-Lin was the cute but smaller, five-foot, three-inch Asian with short-cropped jet black hair. April was the prettier, tall one, five-eleven in bare feet with a fair complexion and blonde hair well past her shoulders. Mei-Lin, being not as endowed in the chest as April’s amply blessed bosom, were the oddest of couples. Despite their differing appearances and personalities, the girls had similar intellects and got along well. April toured the house with Mei-Lin. The place was as cute as a button. The leasing agent explained the rules and fees. Mei-Lin didn’t bat an eye at the cost. April had to think about it. Half of that was a lot of money, especially for a girl on a budget. When they finished the tour and Mei-Lin asked April, “What do you think? I want it.” April did a little mental math and it looked monetarily tight for her limited finances, “It is nice but it might stretch my bank account a bit beyond my comfortable budget.” Mei-Lin, not wanting to lose this opportunity, suggested an option, “You let me have the bigger bedroom with the bathroom and I’ll pay all the fees and utilities. You only need to pay half the rent after we get moved in. Deal?” April saw that as saving her a considerable sum, money she could use elsewhere. She held out her hand to shake, “You have a deal!” “Great! It is a perfect location, but I can’t stand to think of living alone in a place,” said Mei-Lin. Mei-Lin put down the deposits and signed the papers. She was to be the responsible party for all debts. Her last dividend check from her investments would pay the rent for a year. She could afford it and much more. She suggested April take Mei-Lin’s credit card and get the water and gas turned on in Mei-Lin’s name. The tall blonde took orders well and Mei-Lin felt good giving them. She enjoyed having a subordinate. What Mei-Lin didn’t know was that April had been doing what other people told her all her life. Her mother was always pushing her to do more, but never the things April wanted to do. She was naturally submissive from years of being directed where and when to do everything. Once they took possession of the keys, the girls moved their belongings into the house. Mei-Lin went shopping for a bedroom suit and some living room furniture. April went along but only bought a nice mattress. She found a used bed frame and a dresser cheap on Bobslist for $100. This gave Mei-Lin the idea that perhaps April’s lack of funds could be useful in other ways. Mei-Lin hadn’t dated in high school or her first year at MIT. She wasn’t even sure if she like guys. She liked April though, but she wasn’t sure if she liked her sexually. It was all new to her. What Mei-Lin didn’t know about April was that she had been a bedwetter growing up. Her mother ridiculed her mercilessly. She didn’t make many friends because of it and she was eager to please Mei-Lin. She wanted to call Mei-Lin a friend. All the teasing and belittling didn’t stop April’s bedwetting. The only thing it accomplished was turning her into a closet diaper lover. She hadn’t worn a diaper in years, but now, with her own room and access to a private bathroom, she had the overwhelming urge to wear a diaper again.

I am not generally one for descriptions of gay sex, but this was so well-written that it actually turned me on!

Chapter 11. Peter was up first, he looked over and could see Beth was still very much asleep. He got up and walked around to her side. He brushed a little hair out her face. Beth didn't move. Peter didn't want her to get up on her own and the way it looked he had time to shower. Peter showered and got ready for work. Beth had not moved at all. He made his way downstairs and Jane was just pouring a cup of coffee. "Good morning Mom." Good morning dear. How was your sleep?" "Very good. Yours?" "Good dear. Is Beth still sleeping?" "Yes she is." Jane looked at Peter with a little smile. "And....Did she...." "Soaked the bed Mom." Jane smile went a little wider. "Wow. I won't ever ask how you managed that. So what's the plan?" "I think it might be better for me to wake her up and then a few minutes later you can come in. Good cop, bad cop." "Okay dear." Peter poured a cup of coffee and then made his way up to see Beth. Beth still hadn't moved. Peter set his coffee on the dresser and walked over to Beth. "Good morning sunshine." Peter said, placing his hand on Beth's face. Beth stirred a little and then opened her eyes slowly. It took her a few seconds to realize where she was. It took a few more seconds to realize something was wrong. Something was very wrong. "Nana is getting breakfast ready. Come on let's get up. Can't sleep the day away." Peter said, and pulled the covers down to the end of the bed. Beth was soaking wet. Her pink pj's were a dark pink from just below her chest down to her knees. "What the hell Beth. Did you piss in my bed?" Peter said loudly. Beth looked down at herself. She couldn't believe how wet she was. 'What the hell. How did this happen?' She thought. "I.....I...." she couldn't get any words to come out. "Well isn't this just great. A brand new mattress and you go and pee in it? Is this some sort of joke?" Beth sat up a little. "Peter.....I don't know what happened." Peter took Beth by the hand and pulled her straight up out of the bed. She stood with her head down looking at the very wet sheets. "I can't believe this. Did you do this on purpose because of our discussion last night?" Beth slowly picked her head up. "Noooo." Peter placed his hand under Beth's chin and lifted her head up. "Why didn't you tell me you had this problem?" "It's never happened before. I didn't mean it." Peter with his hand still holding up Beth chin, squeezed just a little tighter. "So it was an accident? Do you know who else has accidents in bed?" Beth felt a tear roll down her cheek. "It was. I'm sorry. I don't know...." "My five year old daughter has accidents in bed. Do you know what she wears to bed?" Beth knew but didn't want to say it, so she just shrugged her shoulders. "She wears diapers to bed. Is that what I need to get you. DIAPERS? "Noooo. I'm sorry it was an accident. I don't know why it happened." "Is something the matter? Jane said, standing in the doorway of the the bedroom. Peter never let go of Beth's chin. "It looks like this little girl has gone and peed in the bed. Can you believe that?" Jane walked up closer. "Oh you poor dear." Jane took Peter's hand and pulled it away from Beth's chin. "Come on dear. Let's get you cleaned up. I will look after her Peter." Peter took a step back and let his Mom take over. "Well, I don't have time for this. You better hope that mattress is not ruined young lady." Beth had a few more tears roll down her cheeks. it was like she was dreaming because there was no way this happened. Jane took Beth by the hand. "Come on dear let's get you cleaned up. Don't worry Peter, I will see if I can get the mattress fixed up." Peter walked to the doorway and turned back. "I sure hope so Mom. This had better not happen again!" Peter didn't wait for a response and he walked quickly out of the bedroom. Jane and Beth turned and looked at each other. "Don't worry dear. I will get you all fixed up. Come on." Jane led the wet girl into the bathroom. She let go of her hand and started to fill the tub, putting some bubble bath into as well. Beth looked in the mirror. It might have been the worst thing she could have done. With her hair a mess and the pink pj's that were very wet, she looked 15 years younger. She looked down at her mid section and pulled the wet material away from her skin. "Sweetie don't touch that. That's yucky. Come on, let's get you out of those wet things." Jane took a hold of Beth's top at the bottom. "Arms up." Beth lifted her arms up over her head, feeling much like a small child and let the taller woman pull her pyjama top up over her head. She didn't put up a fight. "I'm sorry...I don't know why." Beth squeaked out. "It's okay dear. Accidents happen." Jane said, has though she was talking to Sarah, which she has done many times in the past. Before Beth knew it she was standing naked in front of Peter's mom. Her hands went to cover her private area but Jane quickly slapped them away. "We don't touch down there. Come on, hop into the tub." Beth stepped over the edge of the tub and sat down. The warm water felt great and she leaned back, closing her eyes. 'How did she wet the bed? It's never happened before.' The thoughts kept going through Beth's mind as she lay in the bubbly water. "You just relax for a few minutes. I will be back." Jane said. Beth didn't move or open her eyes. Jane went and stripped the bedding, taking them along with Beth's pj's down to the washer. She brought back some cleaner and went to work on the mattress. Beth laid still in the bath. She felt like such a fool. 'How did this happen?' She kept thinking. 'Was it just because she was so tried. Hell, she doesn't even remember getting into bed last night. It must have been that. It just had to be.' Jane returned to the bathroom and knelt down beside the tub. "Let's get you all washed up." Beth opened her eyes and looked at Peter's mom. "I can do it. I will be done in a minute." Jane smiled. "Nonsense dear. I need to make sure you are not smelling like pee when we go try on your wedding dress. Don't worry, Nana will get you all clean and smelling sweet." Jane took the wash cloth and placed in the tub. "But...I can do it. I'm not a little girl." Beth said. Jane held up the wash cloth and rung some of the water out. She put some baby shampoo on the wash cloth. "No one said you were a little girl Beth, but for what happened this morning, you are skating on thin ice with Peter. Do you want me to tell him that you're being fussy?" Beth thought about what Peter had said earlier. She could understand why he was upset but it's not like she meant to wet the bed. It was just an accident. "No but...." "No buts. Let's get you cleaned up and ready. We don't have a lot of time before our appointment at the wedding dress shop." Beth let Jane wash her body and hair. She wanted to stop it, but she didn't have the energy. She hated that she was using baby shampoo but every time she went to say something, Jane placed the wash cloth on her face and rubbed harder and harder. Beth would be surprised by the time she was done if she would have any skin left on her face. Jane let Beth dry herself with a towel but as soon as she was dry, she took her by the hand and led her out of the bathroom naked. Beth went to cover her private area again and again Jane slapped her hands. Jane pulled open the dresser drawer and handed Beth some underwear. Beth looked at them. "These are not mine." Jane put her hands on her hips. "Yes they are. Kim bought a bunch of new clothes for you girls and you should be thankful. Now, let's go a move on." Beth held out the pink underwear with white clouds on them. They were surly not like the underwear she has been wearing for years. These looked like they belong to someone younger then Emily. "Do you need me to put them on you? Is that it?" Jane said. Beth quickly placed the underwear down and stepped into them. As she pulled them up over her waist she felt foolish. Jane handed Beth a romper that was yellow. As Beth took it she held it out. "What is this?" "It's a romper silly. It's going to look great on you." Beth wasn't so sure about that. "Why did Kim buy all this? I have my own clothes." "I think once you get dressed we should call Kim and you should thank her for buying you some new clothes. Now, hop to it." Beth placed her feet into the romper and pulled it up, as she feed her arms through the short sleeves she looked down for how to close it but there was nothing. "How does this do up?" Beth quickly found out as Jane turned her and zipped up a zipper in the back. "Just like that. Now, come sit and let me do something with your hair." Jane pulled out a chair from the make-up table. Beth looked down at her yellow romper. She felt ridiculous in it. "I don't want to wear this." she wined. Jane took a hold of her arm and forced her to sit in the chair. "I think you look great." "It looks ridiculous on me. I'm not wearing this." Jane ignored her and pick up a brush and started to bush her hair. Jane worked out a couple knots. It hurt Beth and she moved a little in the chair. "Sit still honey." "You're pulling my hair!" "Oh stop being such a baby. Sarah doesn't move around this much when I do hers. Now, sit still. I will be done in a minute." Beth tried to stay still and was mostly successful. When Jane was done, she turned and looked in the mirror. "What the hell is that?" Beth's hair was pulled back and Jane had put two yellow flower clips on each side of her head. Jane pulled Beth to her feet and stood looking down at her. "You look fantastic. Come on. Let's get some food into you. We have a big day ahead of us." Beth had no choice but to follow along as Jane was pulling her. They made their way into the kitchen. Jane pulled out a chair and Beth sat down. Beth looked down at her yellow romper. Without her padded push up bra on, it looked like she had hardly any breast at all. It was one thing that really bug her, the size of her breasts. She has always wanted to get implants, but never had the money to do it. Jane placed two pieces of toast with strawberry jam in front of Beth, along with a big plastic cup, filled with orange juice. "Please don't get anything on your clothes." Beth looked up. "I won't." Jane stood for a second. "I don't want to take any chances." She turned and opened up a drawer. Beth pulled out a pink and white bib. Beth's eyes went wide when Jane turned holding the pink and white bib. "I...I don't need that." Jane stepped behind her. "I would hope not but we don't have time to change you so I think this is for the best." Jane placed the bib around Beth's neck and tied it up. It was all Beth could take. After all that has happened this morning, she went over her tipping point. "I don't need to wear a fucking bib!" she screamed. So much for the 'good cop, bad cop' As quick as Beth yelled out, was as quick as Jane grabbed the smaller girl by her arm, lifting her up off the chair and bringing her hand down on Beth's bottom. 'SWAT' "I can handle that you wet the bed but you are not going to be using that kind on langue in this house. No, sit down and eat." Jane yelled. Beth was in shock. She couldn't believe she was just spanked. "You...you can't do that." Jane forced Beth back down on her chair. "You are living in my house young lady and I believe I can. Now if you want another on your bare bum, just keep talking." Beth looked up at her. She for sure didn't want another. A little tear fell from her eye. She felt scared and very intimidated by the much larger women all of a sudden. She had been so nice and it seemed she had turned on a dime. Beth looked away. She was scared and nervous. She finally picked up a piece of toast and took a bit. Jane poured another cup of coffee. She watched Beth take a bite of toast and she smiled. She loved the control she just felt after giving the girl a little spank. Looking at Beth now with the bib around her neck and her hair up with the pink clips, she smiled wider. Beth finished her toast and looked down at her bib. Not a drop on it. She wanted to say something but stopped herself. Looking at the coffee pot. "May I have a cup of coffee?" she asked. Jane turned from the sink. "I will get one for you dear. You can take it with you. What do you like in it?" "Uhmm. Two sugar and some cream." Jane placed her hands on her hips. "Two sugar and cream......" Beth wasn't sure what Jane was getting at and just kept staring at her. Jane couldn't believe this girl didn't get what she was asking for. "What do you say when you asked for something?" Beth's head went down. "Please." "That's better. I'm sure glad the girls are not here. We will work on your manners in the next couple of days. You need to set a good example for them you know." Beth kept her head down. She felt very foolish. "Now drink your juice and I will get you a coffee to go." "Thank you." Beth squeaked out. "You're welcome dear." Jane took a travel mug from the cupboard and made Beth her coffee. Beth drink her juice as she watched Jane make her coffee. Jane set the coffee cup on the table. "Already then?" Beth stood from the table. "I guess so." Jane took her by the hand and picked the coffee mug up. As she walked her towards the front door, she wondered how long it would take the girl to realize she was still wearing the bib. It wasn't until Beth looked down for her shoes that she noticed the bib hanging in front of her. Beth reached back to untie it. Jane was quick to spin her around and untie the bib. Jane folded the bib up and placed it in her purse that was sitting on the floor beside her. "I'm sure we will be eating out after." Beth watched as Jane placed the bib in her purse. It was one thing to wear it here, there was no way she was wearing out at a restaurant. "I think you can just leave that here." Jane picked up her purse and handed Beth the travel mug of coffee. "Let's get a move on." she said, ignoring Beth's last comment. Jane took Beth by the hand and lead her out to her vehicle. Jane opened the back passenger door. Beth was a little confused. "I can ride up front." "I don't think that's a good idea dear, with the airbags and all." "But...You know i drive right?" "Yes dear, but you are not driving today, so hop up and get buckled please." Beth stomped her foot on the ground. "This is crazy. I don't need to sit in the back. I'm a grown woman." Jane let go of Beth's hand and took a step back. "A grown woman throwing a little temper tantrum is what I see. Now, get in!" Jane yelled. Beth looked around to see if there were anyone around that might have heard. Luckily see did not notice anyone. Beth didn't like how Jane yelled at her. It sit a shiver down her back. Beth stepped up and got seated. Jane reached in and pulled her set belt across her and clipped her in. Nothing was said on the way to the wedding dress store. Beth sipped away on her coffee, pouting the whole way. Jane pulled into a parking spot in front on the store. Beth took her seat belt off and went to open the door, but she couldn't get it to open. Jane slowly walked around and pulled the door open for Beth. She took Beth by the hand and helped her out. Beth kept a hold of her coffee mug and let Jane led her into the store. "Good morning," said a tall blonde woman. "Good morning. We are here for a 10am fitting." Jane said. The blonde women looked at Beth. With her in a yellow romper and her hair in yellow clips. She looked down at the appointment book and then back at Beth. "Uhmm. I have the bride Beth Armstrong in at 10am." "Yes that's right." Jane replied. The blonde couldn't believe this girl standing in front of her was the bride. She thought maybe a younger cousin that was a junior bridesmaid. "Oh...Okay. My name is Samatha but everyone calls me Sam. Right this way." Sam opened a door that was in the back of the store. She waited for the women to go through before closing the door behind her. "Nice to meet you Sam. I'm Jane, Beth's future mother-in-law." "Nice to meet you Jane." Beth and Jane looked around the big dressing room. Beth could see the dress she had picked out, hanging on a hanger to the right. Sam still couldn't get over this girl was the bride. Her 10 year old niece looked older. Sam walked over and took the wedding dress off the hook. "I believe this is the one." Jane was still holding onto Beth's hand. Beth tried to pull her hand free but Jane had a tight grip. "Yes, that's the one." Beth said. "How be you get undressed and we will make sure everything is good before the big day." Jane finally let go of Beth's hand. "Maybe you should put that coffee down somewhere so it doesn't get spilled." Sam hung the dress back up and walked a few steps closer to Beth. "Here, I can set that over here, out of the way." Beth handed the cup to Sam. Jane looked at Beth for a few seconds and when Beth didn't say anything. She spoke up. "What do you say to Sam?" Beth glared at Jane. "Thank you." "You're welcome." Sam replied, holding back a smile. Beth looked down at the romper and then remembered it zipped up in the back. Jane watched Beth trying to figure out how she was going to get her romper off. Sam was doing the same. Finally Jane took Beth's arm and turned her around, pulling the zipper down. Beth went to pull the romper off and then remembered she didn't have a bra on. "Hmmm...I don't have a bra on." Jane looked at Sam, then back at Beth. "I think it's fine dear. Is that okay Sam?" "Uhmm. Maybe I could get one?" Beth asked. Sam wasn't sure what to do. She couldn't remember a bride not having the bra on that she was going to be wearing under her wedding gown. "I'm sorry. I don't think we have any that would work for you. Let's get the dress on and I will see if I can figure something out." Beth didn't want to be bare chested in front of Sam. She felt very insecure as it was. She didn't need her to see that she hardly needed a bra. Jane took over and pulled Beth's romper out of her hands, letting it fall to the floor. Beth quickly covered her chest with her hands. Sam put her hand over her mouth when she saw the pink underwear Beth was wearing. Sam pulled herself together and grabbed the dress again. "Come on, step out of your romper so that you can try your dress on." Jane said. Beth took 2 steps to the side and Jane picked up the romper, setting on a bench. Sam walked up to Beth and unzipped the back. "This might be hard to get in and out off, but don't worry." Beth had to uncover her chest as Sam held the dress down for her to step into. Jane had to hold onto Beth's arm so that she didn't fall. Sam carefully got Beth into the dress. Beth looked down at her dress and loved it. She felt the zipper being zipped up. Thats when her bladder sent her a single that it needed to be emptied. Jane and Sam stood in front of Beth. "That looks great dear." Jane said. "It sure does. I just need to get a few things to make some adjustments. I will be right back." Sam said, before walking away. Beth's bladder was not going away. "Uhmm..I think I need to use the bathroom." "Really? Now?" Jane said. "Yes." "Well, you are going to have to wait for a bit." Sam returned and set a plastic container on the floor. "Can you turn for me." "Uhmmm..Is there a bathroom I could use?" Beth asked before turning. Sam looked up. "Yes, but it's going to be difficult wearing this dress. Can you wait until I get this sorted out?" Jane stepped up behind Sam. "Can you wait?" "Well...uhmmm..I will try." Beth said. "You had better not have an accident in that dress young lady. One accident today is enough." Sam turned and looked up at Jane. 'She couldn't have just heard that?' Beth couldn't believe Jane just said what she said. She glared at her but said nothing. Sam stood. "I know this might sound strange but a lot of the brides are wearing protection on the big day. I know it seems weird but with how hard it is to get in and out of the dress and how long a day it is, they feel more comfortable." Beth wasn't sure what Sam was talking about. "I don't understand." Jane knew right away what Sam was talking about and spoke up. "I think that might be for the best. Would you happen to carry anything or would we need to go elsewhere." Sam took a step back from Beth. "I do have something here that the place down the road supplied us. Would you like me to get one?" "Yes that would great. Thank you Sam." Jane said. Sam turned and walked out the door. Beth turned to Jane. "What is going on?" she asked. Jane stepped up in front of Beth. "Sam is going to get you something to wear under your dress. Now, let's see if we can get you out of this dress so you can use the potty." "Something to wear under. What?" Jane went behind Beth and unzipped her. She pulled the dress down a little. "Now, be careful and work with me." Beth kept her balance and got out of the dress. Jane held it and placed it back on the hanger. She took Beth by the hand. Sam walked back in carrying something white in her hand. "I think she had better use the potty before we go any further." Jane said. Sam pointed to a door to her left. "Right through there." Jane pulled the half naked Beth towards the door. "I can go myself." Beth quietly said. Jane let go of her hand. "Okay then. Hurry up. We don't want to keep Sam waiting." Beth pulled the door open and walked through. There was another door to her right and when she pulled on it, nothing happened. She pulled again, nothing. Beth knocked on the door and when she heard nothing from the other side she placed her hand between her legs. She needed to go and she didn't have too much time. With her hand still between her legs, she opened the door back up too were she came from. and stuck her head out. "Uhmmm.....the door won't open." Sam turned and walked towards Beth still holding the white thing in her hand. "Oh dear. Sometimes that door sticks." Sam pushed the door open and Beth had to step back. Sam looked at the girl with her hand between her legs. "Oh dear. Are you okay?" Beth moved from one foot to the other trying to hold back her bladder. "Uhmm.. Yes. Just need to hurry." "Sam held up the DIAPER. I think this is very needed for your big day." Sam turned the knob on the door and gave it a good push, opening the door wide. "There you go." Beth couldn't believe what Sam was holding now that she got a very close look at it. She didn't have time to say anything as she rushed into the bathroom not even closing the door behind her. She quickly pulled down her underwear and just in the nick of time she got seated on the toilet. Sam stood and watched her for a few seconds before she pulled the door closed a little, not wanting it to stick closed again. Beth finished, stood up and pulled her underwear up. Now that she didn't have that to worry about she thought about the diaper Sam had. 'No way was she wearing a diaper. That's just crazy.'

I told my partener who became my wife many years ago on a holiday in Bulgaria. We were staying in an all inclusive hotel for two weeks and the weather was absolutely terrible it rained and rained. So we spent most evenings at the bar getting drunk and one particular evening about three days into our holiday we started discussing different things we would like to try during sex to add more excitement. We had alot of drinks and i was getting braver and braver but i still couldn't bring my self to tell my partner about my love of nappies. We discussed some more ideas and eventually after a few more beers and shots i asked my future wife to hand me her phone so i could type her a message out explaining one of my darkest sexual desires.... she handed me her phone so i began typing and explaining my fetish and intrest in nappies eventually when i had finished my essay in text message on her phone explaining my feelings for nappies i handed her the phone back and she started to read.... my heart was pounding, i didn't know what to expect i generally thought the love of my life was about to finish with me. After about 5 minutes of her reading the huge msg i had written out she just looked up at me and thanked me for my honesty and the to my suprise she asked me if i would like to go to the 24hr supermarket to buy some nappies to have some fun with i was in total shock but i agreed. We finished our next round of drinks and headed off to the supermarket to buy some nappies. The only nappies i had ever used up until this point were large baby nappies i was 21years old and had been stuffing babies nappies in my pants for years since i was 5. So we arrived at the basic 24hr holiday complex supermarket and my partner took me to the medical section to look for adult sized nappies again i was in complete shock because i didn't even know adult sized nappies existed. Unfortunately for me they didn't have any adult nappies in, so we went straight to the infant section and bought some nappies. The rest of the holiday i spent sleaping in a baby nappy stuffed in my pants. The weather was terrible, the sex was awesome and i spent everynight wearing protection. during the last few days my partner told me when we arrived home she would take me to get some big boys pants from our local drug store boots that would actually fit me, i was so excited to arrive home. True to her word on the very next Saturday we went into to town to boots and she brought me some incontinence pants called "poise incontinence pants" i will never forget this day as long as a live, finally i had opened up to somebody about my fetish and they understood me and helped me. Later that day we arrived home from shopping and we got into bed and straight away i tried these poise incontinence pants out they were amazing to be because from age 5 i had been using small baby nappies. Time passed and i must of used 5packets of poise pants for night sleaping. Then i asked my partner if she knew of anywhere that sold adult sized nappies and she responded she was unsure but we would look together on line. We looked on some incontinence websites and found a brand called lille adult nappies. i ordered 3packets all in one go it was amazing. my partner and wife to be was totally cool about it and i had many nites wearing my new adult sized nappies to bed. Eventually i married my partner and we had three wonderful children and we are still together now. My wife still knows of my love of nappies and when ever im stressed out i talk to her and im still allowed to wear nappies to bed to help me combat my stress levels its fantastic for me, i dont always wear probably once or twice a week. ? I love my wife so much for being there for me and understanding my nappy needs.

My current wife of 35 years was introduced to my diapers on our 3rd date when she put her hand down my pants and found the diaper I was wearing, she only asked whats that, I said my diaper, she said oh ok, she put her hand inside the diaper and said and its wet also, but it did not stop her.

Chapter 10. Kim woke up early and so did Sarah. Kim got Sarah out of her wet pull-up and dressed for the day. "Can we go to the park today Auntie Kim?" Sarah asked. "I think this morning would be a good time to go. Then this afternoon we have to go to try on your dress for the wedding." "Okay." Sarah said with a big smile. "Let's go get some breakfast. I will go and wake up Emily." Kim got Sarah a cup of orange juice and a colouring book. Sarah sat at the table and coloured. Kim went into Emily's bedroom. She was still asleep. "Emily honey, time to wake up." Emily opened her eyes slowly and blink a few times. She looked around. It was strange waking up in a different place. "How did you sleep?" Emily turned her head towards Kim. "Okay, I guess." "Well that's good to hear. Come on, let's go have some breakfast." Kim pulled the covers down, off Emily. As soon as Emily moved her legs to get out of the bed she felt the heaviness of the pull-up. It felt very different than it had last night. Once Emily's feet touched the floor. Kim helped her stand and then her hand went around and she patted her bottom. "Oh honey your soaked." Kim said, loudly. Once Emily was standing and Kim pushed the pull-up into her bum, she could feel the wetness. 'No way she wet the pull-up! How is that possible?' But there was no getting around the fact that her pull-up was wet. Very wet! "It's a good thing Auntie Kim put you in a pull-up last night, isn't it? You would have soaked the bed." Emily looked down, feeling like she was going to cry. As she was looking down, Kim pulled her pyjama pants down to her ankles. Emily could see the sagging pull-up between her legs. She felt so embarrassed. 'How could she have wet the pull-up?'She wanted to say something but nothing that made any sense came to her. "Come on, step out." Kim said, holding Emily's arm. Emily stepped out of her bottoms as Kim helped pull the pyjama bottoms completely off. Kim placed Emily's pj bottoms on the bed and took Emily by the hand. "Come on, let's get breakfast then we'll get your bum changed." Kim pulled Emily towards the door. 'She couldn't walk out like this.' "Please. Can't I get out of this now?" Kim looked down at her. "We are going to the park right after breakfast so I will change you then." "But....." Emily wanted to say more but as Kim pulled her out of the bedroom. When she seen Sarah sitting at the kitchen table, she didn't say a word. Sarah was all dressed and her hair was combed. She looked down again at her sagging pull-up. "Sarah, come give Emily a hug good morning." Sarah jumped down and wrapped her arms around Emily. "Good morning." Emily didn't know what to do. She stood still as she was hugged. "Say good morning Emily." Kim said, pulling at her hand. "Good morning." Emily quietly said. Kim pulled Emily over towards her chair. She pulled it out and then picked her up setting her on the chair. Emily felt her wet pull-up more than ever. The hard chair pushed the wet pull-up around her bottom. "Can't I change. Please." Emily whined. Kim pushed the chair up to the table. "I said, we will get your bum changed after breakfast." Sarah paid no attention to either Kim or Emily, she was busy colouring again. Kim set a sippy cup in front of Emily and then went and got the waffles ready. "Do you want to colour?" Sarah asked. Emily looked over at Sarah. "No". Emily looked down again at her pull-up. She pushed the front of it. 'How did it get so wet? Why won't Kim let her change? She didn't like the feel of sitting on the hard chair with a wet pull-up on.' She looked over at Kim. "Please. Can I go change." Kim turned after she poured the waffle batter in the waffle maker. "Emily. I'm not going to say it again. We will get your diaper changed after breakfast." "But....I don't like sitting here in it." Kim stepped closer after closing the lid on the waffle maker. "You want your bum changed now?" Emily didn't like Kim saying it that way, it sounds very babyish. "I just want to get out of this." Kim know she had a few minutes before the waffles were ready. "Okay. You sit right there and I will be back." Kim walked towards the bedroom. She went in and picked up another pull-up and the box of baby wipes. Emily turned in her chair and watched Kim walk away, happy she was going to get out of her wet pull-up. When she saw Kim return carrying another pull-up and baby wipes her smile disappeared. Kim pulled Emily's chair out and helped her out. She set the pull-up and wipes on the floor. Emily could see what was going to happen. "I don't need another pull-up!" Kim looked at her after kneeing down. "You just said you wanted out of your wet pull-up." "But. But....I don't need to wear another one." Kim looked at Emily as she was kneeing if front of her. "I think for today we had better be safe than sorry." Kim tore the sides of the pull-up and pulled it out between Emily's legs. She popped the top of the baby wipes and pulled a couple out. "I don't need to wear one. I promise, I don't need it." Emily whined. "Just like you promised you didn't wet the bed? I think this very wet pull-up is evidence that you do." Kim wiped Emily all around her waist and bottom. She placed the used wipes inside the wet pull-up and picked up the new one. "Foot up." "Please. I don't want to wear a pull-up." Kim held the pull-up out for Emily to step into. "Would you rather wear a diaper?" "Noooo." "Well then, pick your foot up or Auntie Kim will go get a diaper." Emily slowly picked up her right foot, then her left. Kim pulled the pull-up up over her bum and then gave her bottom a little pat. "Get back up into you chair. The waffles should be ready." Kim said, as she picked up the wet pull-up. Emily looked down at the new pull-up that was now on her. 'She didn't need to wear it.' "Please Auntie Kim. Can I just wear my underwear. I don't need this." Kim pulled the chair out. "Come on, up in your chair. Unless you want me to go get Sarah's old highchair and you can sit in that." 'Highchair. What? There was no way she was sitting in a highchair.' Emily quickly turned and got into the chair. Kim pushed it up to the table. Kim put the wet pull-up into the trash and washed her hands. The waffles were done and after moving Sarah's colouring books out of the way, she placed the two plates in front of each girl. Emily was not very happy. She didn't feel like eating. She watched Sarah eat and she began to feel like she was the younger of the two. Sarah was fully clothed and here she sat in her pyjama top and a pull-up. She pushed the waffle around not wanting to eat. "Come on Emily, eat up." Kim said. "I'm not hungry." "Well you have to eat. So get to it." Emily dropped her fork on her plate. "No. I'm going to change." Emily went to push the chair back so she could leave the table, but Kim was quick to hold the chair in place. "Emily! You sit right there and eat." "No. I'm not sitting here. I don't need to wear a pull-up and I'm not eating anything." Kim picked up Emily's fork and cut a piece of waffle off. She stuck the fork in it and brought it up to Emily's mouth. "We have lot's to do today and you need to eat." Emily crossed her arms over her chest and put her head down. "I thought you said you were a big girl. Now start acting like one or maybe you need to be put in the highchair and be fed like a baby your are acting like." Emily was getting very frustrated. She was past the point of crying. The thought of sitting in a highchair was more than she could take. She picked up her head and went to say something but when she opened her mouth, Kim placed the waffle in. Emily had no choice but to chew. Kim cut another piece and brought it up to Emily's mouth. Emily uncrossed her arms and held out her hand to take the fork. "I can do it." Kim handed the fork too Emily. "That's my big girl." "My I have another one?" Sarah asked. "You sure can. It will be just a few minutes." Emily looked at her plate and then at Sarah's. Her's was gone and Emily still had more than half to go. Emily drank her juice once she finished her waffle. As she drank she watched Sarah finish her second waffle. "Are you sure you don't want another?" Kim asked Emily. Emily said nothing. She just shook her head. "Okay then. I will go get you something to wear. You sit right there and finish your juice." Kim said, before walking away from the kitchen table. Emily turned her head and watched her leave. She set her cup down once it was finished. "We are going to the park." Sarah said. Emily crossed her arms over her chest. "That's just great."

PUBLIC (Wow!) or PRIVATE ? Wearing LOCKING clothing (locked out of the loo) at home not so much an issue AS Wearing LOCKING clothing (especially short baby dresses and frilly ruffled diaper covers visible in a public setting ! Time and destination to be determined by the dominating controlling person. Main theme is not having control - having to ask for the key to the LOCKING clothing to use the BIG ADULT potty or simply messing when denied access !

Scene #10 “No,” Mary said. Some disinterested parties might say that I don’t respond well to the word ‘no.’ It’s not that Mary says it to me a lot. Very rarely; in fact, usually after trying to be more diplomatic about it. She reserves her flat ‘no’ for when I Maybe, and again, this is subject to some debate, have pushed the issue a little too far. A touch. A tad, perhaps. “It’s not that expensive,” I said again, as though that argument that didn’t work 60 seconds ago would magically work now. “Daphne, I said ‘no.’ We can’t afford it right now. If you want it, you’re going to have to save up for it.” Mary is in charge of our finances because she’s better at it. I am not and never have been good with money. I make my own money, obviously, and we share a bank account that I can take from what I need to when I need to. It’s not like I’m on an allowance or anything. It’s just that we both agreed to ask each other for permission before buying any non-necessity that costs more than $100. “Fine,” I said in response, and began to engage in some major league pouting. To her it was just a new version of something I already had, but to me, it was the awesomenew version of something I already had. I mean, c’mon, that is so totally different! “C’mon,” she said and led me back into the walkway of the mall. We went into another store a few doors down, and Mary gave me a warning look when I pretty much just stood there with my arms crossed and waited for her. She’s sometimes more patient than others when I pout. I like to think I’m a funny person whose humor is not always appreciated. I have a habit of making a joke when I know I shouldn’t. They just come out. That’s what happened when the salesperson approached and asked, “Can I help you find anything?” And the funny/not funny/sorta bitter but still funny thing that came out of my mouth because, I’m guessing, my prefrontal cortex was running on too little sleep was, “No, we can’t afford anything.” I mean, funny, right? If you’re not Mary. And I’m not stupid. As soon as I said it, I looked behind me to see just how far over the line I’d gone, and Mary’s slack-jawed expression told me: wayyyy over. “Too soon,” I asked while trying to look apologetic and cute. I’ve been told I do an awesome apologetic-and-cute, it’s just that Mary isn’t so easily swayed. She takes being my disciplinarian seriously. “Much too soon, little girl.” Dammit! I hate that phrase and I know that code! “I’m ...” “Don’t! You can say it after your spanking, understand?” Time for staring my shoes so as not to see the reaction of the saleswoman who was still within hearing distance. It’s not humiliating if you can’t see them, right? RIGHT?!? (No, it’s not right. I just wish it was). “Let’s go,” Mary said, this time guiding me by the shoulder and discreetly, I hoped, swatting my butt. Not hard but hard enough to be a dull thud. The thing about a mall is there are so many places to spank a naughty shopper like me. Most of them are out of the question, but I knew Mary would definitely not be waiting until we got home. She almost never does. I started to panic as we walked back toward the entrance we came in at. The car would’ve been little better than any of the dozen empty benches we walked past. There’s not enough room, and our windows are not tinted. I’d be on complete display. A dressing room would be preferable to that, but they’re not all the same. In the store we’d just come from, the dressing room was right off the sales floor and would’ve have been all but public. It was more of a dressing booth. We were also heading in the direction of a department store, and their dressing rooms are better, being buried in at the backs of departments and being deeper. They got booths way back, where we usually go. If Macy’s punched a card for every time you get spanked in one of their dressing rooms, I’d have gotten a free bottle of Macy’s-branded water by now, and those suckers ain’t cheap. My heart sank as we made a sharp right near the entrance to the department store and headed toward our car. My last chance now was the ladies’ room. That’s the opposite of a car. Plenty of room for Mary to tuck me under her arm, and while no one would be able to see, everyone would hear, once when Mary’s smacked my butt, and once again when the smack echoed off the tile. I was decidedly of two minds when Mary pointed us toward the ladies’ room. “Please,” I pleaded, knowing it would do no good but having to try, “please at home. I’m sorry.” I got a real swat for that and almost tripped. “Here,” Mary said. At the last second she turned away from the ladies’ room toward a door I hadn’t noticed. A family restroom! A minor mercy for what I suspected was going to be a a real spanking, not the ten swats I got the last time I got spanked at the mall. Mary reached for the handle, and it was locked. “We’re waiting,” Mary declared as she led me to the wall. I started to turn to lean my back against it. “Uh uh. You can face the wall and listen to me,” Mary instructed. “Mary...” “Daphne Anne, I’m keeping my voice down for your sake, so unless you want everyone here to know you’re about to get your bare bottom spanked like a five-year-old who didn’t get what she wanted, you are going to listen to me.” She paused, I guess to see if I was going to say anything. Not a peep from me as I endured what amounted to a public timeout and what was obviously a lecture to anyone passing by, even if they couldn’t hear it. (And it’s not embarrassing if I can’t see them seeing me, right? Please?) “I am sorry we can’t afford that this month. I know you work hard, and I do, too, and it sucks that despite that we have to wait for little pleasures sometimes, but when I say no, that’s it. You stop arguing. Understand?” I nodded. “We agreed I’m in charge of our finances, and we agreed we would ask each other before we bought anything expensive. It took us a long time to get you out of credit card debt, and we’re not putting a purchase on the card that we can’t pay off in full just because you want it. Is that clear?” I nodded again. “And I know you think that was a joke you made, but it wasn’t. It was mean, and it was embarrassing, and it was disrespectful, childish, and pouty. I don’t deserve any of that.” Okay, pause. We’re really gonna talk about who was embarrassed? But if my mouth got me into trouble, it wasn’t going to get me in deeper, so I just nodded again. “We’re going to go in there, I am going to yank down those yoga pants of yours, you’re going to bend under my arm, and I’m going to spank your naughty, bare bottom. Understood?” Before I could nod, a woman emerged from the restroom pushing a stroller. She nodded at Mary, and I’m not sure she even saw me. Mary put her foot out to keep the door from closing, reached across me, and tugged me by the shoulder. Feeling sorry for myself and on the verge of tears already from what was a blistering talking to that left me feeling, as usual, guilty and contrite, I shuffled in. A standard family restroom for a mall. Mary hung her purse from a hook and took out the paddle. I gave a moment’s worth of consideration to hiding that thing or even throwing it away later. What a whupping is get for that, I’m sure. “Arms up,” Mary said. I wanted to say something, but what was the point? My yoga pants were around my ankles a second later. “Maybe it’s my fault for letting you wear big girl panties today,” and then they, too, were around my ankles. “Even better,” Mary said as she looked behind me. I turned and saw what she saw: a step stool next to the sink. I groaned, knowing what she intended. She slid the stool toward me, planted her left foot on top of it, crooked a finger at me, and said, “Over my knee.” I looked at her knee, I looked at the paddle in her right hand, and I had an instant vision of what I’d look like in a couple seconds with my feet and hands both off the floor (preferable, given it’s a restroom) as I dangled there helplessly, folded over at the waist and offering my butt to her at the perfect angle. I started to breathe hard already and tried to keep my eyes mostly dry as I shuffled over to Mary. Standing at her right side, I put my foot on the stool, and as I stepped up, Mary lifted me under the arms, and with effort, I was over her knee. I looked up at the mirror, and I looked just how I’d pictured it. “You need to hold still,” Mary warmed me. “I don’t want to drop you.” What a coincidence! I didn’t wanna be dropped. I was pretty uncomfortable like that. When she wants to, Mary can make a spanking last an hour. It’s like edging (which she can do for way longer than an hour, or at least it seems that way), except instead of keeping me from pleasure, she keeps from going over the edge with pain, holding me in that crappy, crappy zone where my butt is burning and aching and I’m sobbing and there’s snot on my shirt but I’m not wailing. I’m not incapable of taking more. I’m still in just enough control of me, and Mary can hold me there because she’s in control of us both and knows my body like her own. This was not gonna be that kind of spanking. The first blow made me jerk my head up and cry out. She was swinging that teardrop paddle like a school paddle, taking all that force and concentrating it on a much smaller area. All that energy shot through me in the form of lightning pain. One a second, or so it seemed, alternating cheeks and moving from up to down and down to up. There was no way anyone passing by couldn’t hear through the hollow, steel door, and I was putting in every bit of effort I could into holding still and not crying out again. What escaped my throat even as I kept my mouth clamped (ya couldn’t‘ve done that five minutes ago, ya little brat?) was a low, continuous moan. I kicked my feet and felt myself slip, then Mary’s strong arm pulling my back toward her, and Mary delivered two more stunners to the tune of, “Hold. Still!” I reached down and put my hands around Mary’s calf, the only thing to hold onto. I could hardly see it through the tears. My throat hurt from straining to stay quiet. Mary saw me at the edge and finished off with two blasts from that hateful paddle, and then it was over. Before I was aware of it, Mary righted me, put me on my feet, and pressed my face into her breast where I could wail as loud as I could without being heard. And wail I did. Big, heaving swells of sobs. “Shhh. It’s over. You did so good. Shhh.” Her hand rubbed my back, her lips kissed the top of my head, and my knees wobbled. I wanted to collapse and be held, and there was no where to do it. Instead I got myself down to just the choking type of sob, quiet at least, as I sniffled and tried to get my diaphragm to stop cramping and picked my head up off Mary. “Do you understand why you needed that spanking,” Mary asked as she brushed my hair out of my face. “Because I was being a brat, and I said something mean to you.” “That’s right. I understand how life can be frustrating at times, and you can have a lot of feelings come up and not know the right way to express them, but throwing a tantrum is unacceptable.” Geez, she made it sound like I was a two year old shouting “Mine!” as I hurled myself to the floor. “I’m only trying to do what’s best for us,” she continued, “and we need to save for little extras like that.” “I know,” I said, trying not to sound whiny. Ya know what I wanted more right then? To be allowed to rub my butt. That’s free! At least I knew better than to ask for that instead. “And when you don’t get your way, it’s unacceptable to then be angry and pouty and make cutting remarks. You are old enough to know that.” Of course I am! I’m 30! And I did know it. I just had a hard time putting that knowledge into practice sometimes. It was a case of those who can’t get taught by those who can with the aid of a paddle that fits in her purse. It’s always there. It’s even there when she’s not with me in case, she says, she needs to come give me a spanking wherever I am. “Now, do you have something to say to me?” “I’m sorry, Mary. I’m really sorry. You’re right.” (As usual) “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, and I’m sorry I threw a tantrum and said what I said.” “Good girl. I forgive you,” she said. Three words go a long way to making me feel better pretty much any time. That’s all I need in life, to be in Mary’s good graces. My friends in vanilla relationships? I don’t understand how they can have fights and not make up right away. That’s a blue moon even for us, because nine out of ten times we argue, if that, it’s the kinda fight where there’s a definite wrong person (me, about eight of those nine times), and the argument ends with me suffering through a swollen butt while Mary tells me I’m forgiven. I think we have the best relationship in the world. “Thank you,” I said. The burning sensation was giving way to a warm ache, and with it came the soft, endorphin-fueled afterglow that’s better than any drug. Mary bent down and pulled my pants up. I winced, and my butt felt hotter under the tight fabric. “There’s one thing we need to get while we’re here,” Mary said a she wet a paper towel. I held still while she wiped my face. “Blow,” she said as she held the paper towel over my nose. That is one of the few things that’s easier to do with a toddler. It took us a few tries to coordinate that right (we missed the Kleenex entirely once, but don’t worry - Mary’s shirt kept If from getting everywhere), but we were old hands at it now. “Ya good,” she asked me as she threw the paper towel away. “Hmmmm,” I said, feeling floaty. Who needs that thing anyway? We should buy more paddles is how we should spend that money, because this feels so much better, now, not that I was in a hurry to experience it all over again. I bit my lip and smiled my I’m-experiencing-too-many-pleasure-hormones-to-speak-intelligently smile. Mary took her purse from the hook after she put my paddle away, then took my hand and we left the restroom. No one paid us any mind. Each step hurt, a deep, dull ache that I love. “Where are we going,” I asked. I had both hands around Mary’s arm as I leaned on her. “The drug store at the other end.” I was too busy enjoying my buzz to notice until we were in the drug store and standing in the diaper aisle. Mary was reaching for a package of Goodnites. I know better than to whine after a serious spanking like the one I’d just gotten, but the prospect of pull-ups made that life lesson fly from my head. “Mary, no, please? I learned my lesson.” “Shh. It’s okay, sweetie.” “Please? I don’t want those.” “You want the boy ones instead?” I exhaled sharply. “No. That’s, you know that’s not what I meant.” “You mean you want some real adult diapers?” Boy, did that shut me up. “Because ...” “No!” “‘No’ what?” “These are fine,” I hissed through my teeth. “I’m so glad to hear you say that. I wouldn’t want to get you something you don’t like.” She started toward the register. “And besides, it’d be a shame to go shopping and not get you anything at all.” I stood meekly behind her while she paid. “Good thing these aren’t too expensive, right, Daphne,” she asked as she inserted her card. Wow, I thought, way to hammer the point home. Did I mention my wife is one of the world great sarcasm strategists? She deploys it like a general deploys nuclear missiles. The clerk handed Mary the receipt. “Can we use your restroom?” Wait, what? “Sure, in the back,” the clerk said. Mary started walking away. I stood there. The clerk looked around me like she was expecting to see a little kid behind me. She just gave me this look I tried to disarm with what must’ve been a stupid and guilty smile. “C’mon, Daphne,” Mary called before I could start babbling. I scampered after her, and she held the bathroom door open for me again. “Ya gonna fight me on this,” she asked when the door was closed. “Only verbally,” I said as I pushed my left shoe off with my right foot. “Let me do that, baby.” She knelt down as I protested, “I’m not a baby!” “Of course you aren’t,” she said she took off my other shoe and started tugging my pants back down again. And then I was naked from the waist down except for my socks, again. She tore the package open, withdrew one of those damn things, unfolded it and held it open for me. “Ya know,” she said, “a diaper actually would be easier. We wouldn’t have to completely undress you to change you into it.” I chose not to engage with that sentence. I put my hands on Mary’s shoulders for balance and stepped in, then Mary pulled it up my legs. I looked at it for a second. “What,” Mary asked. “I was just seeing who was on it. Just hearts and flowers.” “Disappointed,” Mary asked with a smile. I responded by pulling up my yoga pants. I put my shoes on while she stashed my panties in her purse. I twisted around trying to see and wishing I had worn a longer shirt. “Can you see it,” I asked as I tried to adjust my pants. “Leave it alone,” Mary replied as she swatted me on the butt. It hurt, but not terribly. I was already recovering even if I would have an invisible bruise for a day or two. “Can you,” I asked again. “The truth? Yeah. Pretty obvious through those yoga pants.” She adjusted the hem of my shirt. “Did that help,” I asked. “Nope. Here,” she said as she handed me the package of pull-ups. I’d rather take a spanking again than wear these things with yoga pants through the mall, and I’d rather take a caning, which I find not sexy at all, then do it while carrying the package openly. But discipline is not a negotiation. If I protested, I’d end up getting that second spanking and still marching through the mall with an obvious pull-up butt. “Can we ask the clerk for a bag?” I could at least safely try that. “No. They’re bad enough for the planet as is.” “But ...” “Daphne Anne, do you really already need a reminder about what to do when I say ‘no?’” “Sorry.” Little did I know that as we walked back out into the mall, every step shifted my hem and showed off the top of the waistband of that pull-up. Mary knew. She elected not to tell me, which I’m actually glad of. I was embarrassed as is. I’d have crept through the mall holding my shirt down if I knew. Mary saved a surprise for me until we got home. She fixed us lunch and slid a glass of iced tea to me across the table. “One more thing. From now on, since we are tying to be more economical, no more buying anything we’re not going to use.” “Okay,” I said, not realizing where she was going. We use everything we have. “Which means when I put you in one of those pull-ups, you don’t get your undies back until you tinkle in it.” I sat quietly for a moment. The pain of sitting kept me from protesting right away. “And then I can have my panties back,” I asked hopefully. Like, maybe pee a few drops and then whip the thing off? “I didn’t say that, sweetie. I only said you can’t have your undies back until your pull-up is wet.” “So I may have to sit in it?!?” “Honey, you may have to change into another pull-up, and then that one stays on until you tinkle in it, and then you may have to sit in it. It just depends on how naughty you’ve been.” “You are such a meanie.” “Love you.” “Love you, too.” “How’s your sandwich?” “Yummy. Thank you.”

Scene #8 “But you can’t,” I said to Mary. Like that meant anything. Of course she could. “And why not,” she asked me. She was sooo out of patience with me. I was in a bad mood and had been for a few days, and I may have taken it out on her, if you were inclined to interpret it that way (also known as the correct way). Now, here we were in our backyard, me with a pair of pruning shears in my hand. “Um, because it will kill the plant?” Mary’s angry face. I don’t like Mary’s angry face. It’s not as bad as her scary-angry face, but when I’m in trouble, her I’m-so-disappointed face is definitely preferable. “Little girl…” Dammit, she knows how much I hate that! “You can now cut two switches.” When will I learn to shut up? “Muugggh,” I whined. Mary’s not-impressed face. “And you can do it without shorts if you’re gonna be a brat about it.” I bit my lip, both to keep silent and to keep from making the frustrated face that only ever succeeds in strengthening Mary’s resolve. She pulled my shorts down, turned me around, and sent me on my way with a swat on my undies. She took my shorts with her inside. I had ten minutes to cut now two switches and prepare them, then she’d be out to put them to work. I know my wife. No way was she going to switch my bottom inside on such a nice day. That’s the double-edge nature of the switch: quiet enough to be discreet is the same as quiet enough to use it anywhere. We have a big, flat, grassy yard with trees and bushes inside a waist-high retaining wall lining a privacy fence. I love the feeling of grass under my feet early in the summer time. It never lasts. As soon as it gets too hot, the grass dries up, but when it’s still early June it’s so lush and soft. I headed for the magnolia bush. It’s actually the only plant in our back yard I can name, except the sunflowers. Mary taught me how to do this way back. A straight-ish branch at least eighteen inches long. It has to be green wood, so no picking it up off the ground. It should be thin, because it’s a switch, not a cane. And it can cut you, so choose carefully and clean it even more carefully. I looked at the bush, and I figured the hell with it, I had ten whole minutes. I flopped onto the grass on my back and let out a throaty grunt of frustration. “Knock knock,” I heard from behind our fence. Mae Wilson, our widow neighbor. About seventy, heavyset, bit of a hippy vibe, long, silver hair, and often in her yard with dirt on her hands from working in her garden. “Hi, Mrs. Wilson.” “Sounds like you’re in trouble again, Daffy.” Her pet name for me. It would be rude to have a pet name for her, but if I were to give her one, it would be ‘Grandma,’ because I kind of think of her that way, in an affectionate way. “Yeah,” I sighed. She knows about us. It wasn’t intentional. She overheard me getting it through an open window one time, and she came to me not long after. She was afraid for me. I told her I was fine, and she said no way, and she was about ready to call the cops, so I told her the whole story. She smiled at me, said, “To each, their own,” and from then on she kind of saw me as the neighbor kid-slash-half of a kinky lesbian couple. “Can I come over?” “Sure.” We have a gate in our fence. I laid there with my eyes closed against the sun and heard the latch open and gate crash back shut. “Oh,” Mrs. Wilson said, “You are a sorry looking thing.” And she would know. She’s seen me with no pants on and with a red butt before. We’re all women, after all. Though I’m sure she’d be embarrassed to see Mary like that, she and Mary don’t have the quasi grandma-grandkid relationship we have. Even I’d gotten over the embarrassment of her seeing me like this. “You wanna talk about it,” she asked me. “Not really.” “Okay. I’m just gonna sit and pout with you then,” she said as she laid down on the grass next to me. We stayed like that for about twenty seconds, and then I felt her thumb – that rough texture of dirt from her garden dried over her soft skin – on my upper arm. That did it. That’s all it took. One sympathetic stroke of a thumb. “I was mean to Mary,” I said as my voice broke with a sob. “Oh, honey. Why?” “I was just in a bad mood. I didn’t mean to … I just ...” “Do you need a hug?” I sat up, and so did she, and we met in the middle, and she put her big, soft arms around me, and I put my head on her big, soft chest. I like that about her. Mary is young and firm and strong. She’s my wall. Mrs. Wilson is big and soft. She’s more like a safety net, like my real grandma had been. “I’m sorry,” I said to her with my voice muffled. “Wanna try telling me again what happened?” We pulled apart. I wiped my eyes. “I … work has been going really bad lately. I keep getting blamed for things that aren’t my fault, and it’s like there’s nothing I can do to succeed, and I’ve just been taking that out on Mary.” “How so?” “Just, I don’t know, I’ve been really curt, when I talk to her at all, and I’ve just been rude. I’m … does that make sense?” “I know what you mean. Sometimes George and I would get like that sometimes. It happens to everybody.” “I know. Mary is so supportive,” I said as I picked up the shears, stood up, and started inspecting the magnolia tree. “Do you want some help with that,” Mrs. Wilson asked. “Sure.” She held out her hand, and I gave her the shears. I boosted myself on to the retaining wall and let my feet dangle. “Do you know how to do that,” I asked. “Honey, I grew up in the country in a very different time. I haven’t done this in about fifty-five years, but I remember.” She started looking through the branches. “You can keep talking, if you want to. What happened just now?” “It’s stupid.” “So? You can tell me, sweetie. I won’t judge.” “I didn’t get Mary a soda.” I sighed and looked at my feet. “Oh?” “We were in the kitchen, and I got up, and Mary asked me to grab her a soda, and instead I got myself a glass of water and sat back down.” Mrs. Wilson cut a branch and started peeling the leaves and knots off with the shears. “I don’t even know why,” I said. “I … I heard her. I was just kind of zoned out and didn’t care.” “Still, a switch is a bit harsh for that,” Mrs. Wilson said as she ran her hand down its length to make sure it was smooth and wouldn’t cut me. “It’s not the soda. I’s my general attitude, is what Mary said. She’s right, too.” “I got more than my fair share of attitude adjustments when, well, not when I was your age. More like a third of your age, but you know what I mean.” She gave it a flick, and I winced to hear it cut through the air. “Mary said two, right?” “Yeah.” I kept replaying the last couple days in my head. It wasn’t once incident or really even a string of incidents. It was just me being a bitch for four days. The only thing Mary did wrong was not spank me sooner to try to knock me out of it. I shook my head. I felt myself getting teary again and sniffled. “I don’t deserve her sometimes.” Mrs. Wilson set the half-finished second switch down and knelt in front of me, taking both my hands in hers. “Yes, you do. Of course, you do. Mary loves you so much.” Oh, sure, make me cry again. The back door opened, and out came Mary. “Why don’t you go give her a big hug and tell her you’re sorry?” She wiped a tear off my cheek. “Go on.” I hopped down and met Mary half way across the yard. Of course she opened her arms for me. She kissed the top of my head. Oh, how that makes me go all to pieces in her arms. “I’m so sorry.” “I know, little girl.” Mrs. Wilson approached us. “You have a little talk with her, Mae?” “She’s a very contrite little girl, Mary. Do you really have to spank her?” Ya gotta love grandmas. “Hmm,” Mary said, “you want to tell Mrs. Wilson the rule on that Daphne?” I let go of Mary and turned part way so I wasn’t quite facing Mrs. Wilson. “PMS and bad moods are no excuse for being a bitch.” Mary shrugged. “We both live by that rule in our house.” “I see,” Mrs. Wilson said. “Well, rules are rules. But maybe you could go a little easier on her. She knows she did wrong. Maybe just a light spanking?” Of course, perhaps Mrs. Wilson, not being a kinkster herself, has a different notion of what constitutes a ‘light spanking’ than we perverts do. “What do you think, Daphne? Would that be enough to get you back on track?” I nodded. With an arm around my shoulder holding me close, we walked over to the bush. “Nice job, Mae,” Mary said as she looked at the first switch. I guess she was watching us. “Here,” Mary said, “I think we only need one of these today and …” she broke a a few inches off the other one. “There. That should be sufficient.” Mary sat down on the retaining wall where I’d been sitting. “Mae, can we have you over for tea in a little bit to say thank you? We’ll only need a minute. Or you can just stay.” Mary may have made the switch a little less painful, but of course she’d make that little joke just to see me turn red. There’s no way Mrs. Wilson … “Well, if it’ll only be a minute.” Wait. What? “Um, Mary …” “What,” Mary said, “Mrs. Wilson has seen you spanked before.” That was news to me. I looked at Mrs. Wilson, who nodded sympathetically. “Sorry, kiddo, but we do live kind of on top of each other, and you’re not the quietest little girl when you’re getting spanked.” “And we’ll even keep your unicorn undies up.” I looked from Mary to Mrs. Wilson to my unicorn undies. “Of course,” Mary said, “If you’d rather go back inside, we could do that, but then there’d be no good reason to not bare your little, pink bottom.” “Does she have to watch,” I whispered. I’m bad at whispering. Did you know people could be bad at whispering? “The poor thing,” Mrs. Wilson said about me. “She’s having a hard enough time as it is. Tell you what – I’ll just duck back into my yard for a minute, and you just take care of her, then I’ll come right back.” That was agreeable to Mary, because she nodded and lifted me across her lap as Mrs. Wilson excused herself. Being over the knee on the retaining wall was awkward. It’s narrow and of course has no give, so I felt like I was laid out like a board. “Let’s get these down,” Mary said as she pulled my panties toward my knees. I didn’t protest. I at least had visual privacy. SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMAK SMACK SMACK SMACK SMACK. I guess that was my warm up, because Mary picked up the switch. There’s something about a switch resting against your bottom. It’s so much worse than a hairbrush or paddle resting there. It feels so small. So light. You know much it’s about to hurt, but it just gently teases you back there. And then you hear it cut the air just a little when your spanker moves it away from you, and then cut a lot more as it’s flicked down onto your very cute, very spankable bottom (well, in my case). SWISH! “Eep!” SWISH! “Eep!” SWISH! “Ow!” SWISH! “OW!!” SWISH! “Umph!” SWISH! “Muuhhuh!” “Just let it out, Mary cooed in my ear. SWISH! “Wah …” SWISH! “Uh huuh huhh huuh.” And I was sobbing again. I laid across her lap and took my punishment. SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! SWISH! The last two delivered to my thighs. “Okay, baby,” Mary said. She ran her hand down my bottom to my thighs, her palm crossing each stripe she’d left behind. “I forgive you. Here.” She helped me sit up, and as best I could on that wall I turned so my legs were wrapped around her and I could bury my head in her chest. “I’m sorry I treated you so bad.” “I know you are. There, there. Shhh.” She was gently tickling my back with her finger nails. My mom used to put me to sleep doing that when I really was a little girl. I told Mary about it one time, and she happily embraced it. It only took me a minute to calm down. Mary set me on my feet. “Was that enough to snap you out of your bad mood?” “Yes,” I nodded. She looked doubtful. “I hope so. Any more attitude today, and you’re getting paddled and sent to bed.” It wasn’t even lunch time yet. At least, I thought I was fine. It was a short spanking, and it did hurt like a mother, but it wasn’t enough for the warm, fuzzy, endorphin-y feeling. So maybe it was enough to break the pattern, but maybe I could also use a real butt blistering. All I ever have to do is ask, so I put that on the back burner. Mary pulled my underwear back up. “Can I come back over,” Mrs. Wilson called out. “Yes,” Mary called back. Mrs. Wilson came back through the fence, and I felt embarrassed and turned red all over again. “Can I give her a hug,” Mrs. Wilson asked, “or is she in timeout now.” “Nope, all over and done with. Hug away.” And I got my second (or was it third?) hug from Mrs. Wilson. “You were very brave.” “I cried like a little girl,” I scoffed. “And I bet that made you feel so much better, didn’t it?” “Mhmm.” “What else do you say to Mrs. Wilson,” Mary asked. “Thank you.” “Darn tootin’,” Mary said as she reached down swatted my butt. “She saved you from the much worse spanking you had coming. Now, let’s serve our guest some iced tea and cookies, hmm?” “I’ll get everything,” I said. “She can be very polite when properly motivated,” Mary said with a wink to Mrs. Wilson. I started toward the house. “Oh, she is just so darling with her little red fanny peeking out from under those adorable undies with the little grass stain. And her little, dirt-smudged feet!” Now I was blushing again. I like hearing how cute I am. “Hey Daphne,” Mary called after me. “Tell you what, Mae. How about you go help her wash her face and hands, and I’ll get everything.” “I’d be happy to,” Mrs. Wilson replied. “Where are my shorts,” I asked as I stood with a foot in the door. “It’s warm out. You don’t need ‘em for the rest of the day,” Mary declared. “Run along with Mrs. Wilson, and be a good girl for her.” Mary’s smirk. I like that a lot more than her angry face. Especially when she find just the right button to push to get me all blushy and tingling in my tummy.

Thank you. I know it’s been a while since my last update and it will probobly be a while longer to be honest and I apologize for that but I will get back to eventually

Hey! We're in SugarLand here looking to make like-minded friends. Hard to find people like us. This page is a dream come true.

Bleh...got dumped again....yay me