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Scene #123 So about that play date… Actually, before we even get into that, let’s just reflect on my general saintliness is tolerating the whole mess Mary created when she decided to introduce diapers into our relationship. Let’s just … let’s just remember that because I know how the mists of time can obscure things, so let’s just remember that this was her doing and I should be canonized and unanimously elected into the Submissive Hall of Fame for going along with it. Okay? Good. So about that play date … Lisa dropped Jane off. That’s how deep into little space Jane can get when she wants to – so deep she doesn’t even drive herself to a play date. Mary told Lisa she could stay, but she declined, leaving a bouncing Jane on our doorstep. I’ve never been to a little play party or hosted a true little play party or even gone to Jane’s for that specific purpose. I’ve played with her while she was in little space at her house, and she was little when I had her over during the pandemic, but that wasn’t the reason she came over. Or sort of but not exactly. But the play date, Jane came prepared, complete with shortalls and a plastic toy suitcase (as in, the suitcase was a toy, but yes, she had packed it with toys. I … was less prepared. I still hadn’t figured out what I was going to do with her for the afternoon. She was going to be little, and I was going to be her sitter, but I didn’t know what that meant. I never babysat a thirty-five-year-old before. Come to think of it, I’ve only babysat kids a handful of times. I’m not a little, and I’m also not a big, so… “Welcome her in,” the only big in the house said as she brushed past me. Like, woah, with the impatience. “Hi, Janey,” Mary practically sang with this insipid smile on her face that’s a lot more endearing when she smiles at our nephew like that. “I’m so glad you came over to play with us today.” Mary her put her arms around her shoulder and guided her over our threshold. And, no, I do NOT get snippy when Mary treats Jane like a little. Why would I? I’m not a little. I’m not the jealous type … Okay, so I am the jealous type but not because Jane is a little or Mary treats her like one. I had to fake some big skills if I was going to hold up my end of the invitation and be her sitter, so I did what Mary did. I put on a totally fake voice and said, “Hello! Do you want a snacky or a drinky?” Why are they looking at me like that? They seemed to shrug off my perfectly good if totally inauthentic attempt to talk to Jane like a little, and Mary asked her, “How old are you today?” Jane held up five fingers. “Five!?! I thought a little girl was coming over to play today. You’re practically grown up!” O that is just so … “And did you bring over some toys to play with?” Jane, apparently not feeling especially verbal, nodded. Turning her attention back to me – her wife! – Mary said, “Why don’t you take Jane to the living room and play for a while, and I’ll come check on you in a bit?” “Kay. C’mon, Janey.” I took her by the hand to the living room and sat down on the couch leaving plenty of room for her, and instead of sitting on the couch, she plopped herself down on the floor, unsnapped the buckle on her toy suitcase, and upended the thing onto the carpet. Without rolling my eyes even a little or even sighing like I was being put upon because I wasn’t and I should’ve figured that was where she’d wanna play whatever it was she wanted to play, I grabbed a throw pillow and the remote and got down on her level. I turned on the TV and found some random movie that was on, and Jane, in a total adult-toddler power move took the remote right out of my hand and turned it to a cartoon. Not a good cartoon like Bugs Bunny or TMNT but some truly awful cartoon meant for kids so little they aren’t even really kids yet. Bossy McBossy-Pants then handed me a barbie and said, “You can be Skipper. She’s Barbie’s sister.” “Um, okay.” It’s not like I was a butch kid growing up. I had my tomboy tendencies, and yes, I know that’s a whole concept best relegated to the dustbin but using it for the sake of making myself understood. And sure as heck no one is mistaking me for butch now. The opposite, in fact, with me literally owning a tee shirt that says, ‘I’m not a manic pixy dream girl.’ I had barbies growing up; I don’t remember when I stopped playing with them, but more to the point, I didn’t really remember how to play with them. Jane was accessorizing her barbie, and all I could think to say was, “Hi, Barbie. Are you still taking opioids for the crippling pain your disproportioned body causes?” Jane … didn’t think that was funny. “Aunty Marrry!” “Hey, no. No Mary. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” I said as I heard Mary coming down the hall. And when did Mary get promoted to Aunt? And what did that make me? No sooner was Mary in sight than the little fink finked on me. “She’s being mean!” O my god, you *@#@*! rat, I thankfully didn’t say out loud. This is what she does almost every dang time she’s little around me. She gets me in trouble, and at least some of the time I didn’t actually do anything. I recounted the story to Mary, who was so obviously suppressing a laugh (cuz I’m funny, dammit!), and explained, “I didn’t mean to be mean. I just don’t know how to play.” Mary’s suppressed smile went away, and her brow wrinkled in this I’m-having-a-realization face she makes whenever she has a realization, followed by this whole pity face she makes when she’s pitying me. And I am not an object of pity! I’m damn paradigm of humankind! To be admired and worshipped and … stuff. “I’ll help you,” Mary as she got down on the floor with us. “Which one should I be?” Jane, smiling this big smile that I took no offense at at all either as the official sitter or as Mary’s wife because why would I, took Skipper out of my hand and gave it to Mary (my wife!). It was Mary who said, “And what should Daphne be?” And the little brat flicked a monopoly car toward me! I mean, what the crappin’ crud!?! Like I was suddenly something she scraped off her shoe when she came in. Since I was the sitter and Mary was really just a bystander even if Jane called her Aunty, I, in my authoritative but kind voice (that should not be mistaken as my impression of Mary when she’s lecturing me except yeah, that’s where I learned it) said, “That’s not very nice Janey. I wanna play too. Will you show me how?” Ooo, she’s smiling at me. Why does it feel so good to get a thirty-something woman to smile at me? Surely not because she’s a little. Really. “You can be My Little Pony.” Which left me wondering whether she meant the character or Barbie’s pony and had me thinking of a joke about pony play which led me to thinking of this plug we have in our toy chest which is actually a fox tail and not a horse tail but so long as we’re playing pretend … but I had the good sense not to give voice to that line of thinking. “Where are we going,” Mary asked, and Jane decided we were going to the mall because apparently not only was she five that day but also the whole world rewound to when she actually was five and malls weren’t depressing museums of retail past. Which is another thing I didn’t say out loud. I just tried to play along, the whole time with Mary giving me these oddly encouraging smiles like she was proud of me or something. Like, yeah, I sorta kinda definitely breakdance inside when Mary is proud of me (and sometimes just a teensy bit on the outside) but not because I’m a golden retriever or desperate for approval or anything. I just really really want it and need it … which is totally different. Really. “I’m going to go make us lunch. Can you play nicely while I’m gone?” I’m not sure which of us that was directed at, but I decided to say yes not because I’m a little (I was little-sitting, dammit! And doing a great good passable job of it, I might add) but because she’s Mary and in charge and stuff, so I answered her in the affirmative. Mary stood up and I was all set to keep playing when she remembered something. Or at least I’m guessing she remembered something because she went, “Oop,” and turned around. “Do you need the potty,” she asked. Ya know what I did? I didn’t blush even a little. Really. Because I knew she didn’t mean that question for me … because reasons. “No,” Jane said in almost a squeak. “Are you sure,” Mary said as she walked back over toward us. “Can you stand up for me?” Jane hopped to her feet (glad I never hop to when Mary says. Um, really. What?), and Mary asked, “Can I check your pullup?” Jane nodded, and Mary snaked a hand up the front of Jane’s shortalls while I sat there with that stupid plastic pony in my hand and didn’t forcefully exhale as though trying to push a totally heccin peeved off sense of jealousy out of my body at the sight of my wife touching Jane. And how did she even know Jane was wearing a pullup? I didn’t know. Lisa didn’t say. “All dry,” Mary said in this totally unwarranted congratulatory way that actually stirred no feelings inside me at all. Nary a one. Not even a little. Really. “Will you tell me if you need the potty?” “She can tell me,” is a thing that impulsively came out of my mouth. “Um, because, uh, I’m her babysitter today. I can do it.” Hey Daff, ya know who says ‘I can do it?’ Toddlers. Stupid peanut gallery in my head. Are you really willing to take her to use the potty if that’s how she wants to play? Peanut gallery makes a heccin good points sometimes. “And you’re doing such a good job,” Mary said. O no you didn’t say that all condescendingly to me you … O, how I wish the moment stopped there. I don’t even care how the moment ended – me having a sudden stroke, nuclear holocaust, meteor striking the earth – so long as it ended. But it didn’t. Nope. My wife stepped over the small pile of toys, held out her hand for me, helped me up, and without so much as a ‘how you doin’ stuck her hand down the front of my shorts and said, “You’re a little damp, Daffy.” Picture me frozen in a rictus of humiliation as my friend asked my wife, “How can she be the babysitter if she’s in diapers and I’m not?” Mary, ever the big, looked over her shoulder and said, “She’s still a big girl even if she needs diapers.” “I don’t!” And O how I wish the moment stopped there. But no. No. Sigh … Mary – ya know, my first wife; pretty sure I’ve told yu about her – in that o so earnest and chipper tone I’m beginning to associate with tinnitus, swiveled her head back toward me and asked, “Did you poop?” Bright flash. Sound of blood rushing through my ears giving way to a piercing ring. For reasons I still don’t understand, I just stood there while Mary turned me around, cupped my butt, pulled out the back of my shorts, peered in, and announced, “Still clean. Good job.” Excuse me, did she just say good job? “Marrrry! I didn’t and I never and you (building imploding) and (windows breaking) and (elk mating) and and and … you! Heccin hernumfluffer, Mary!” Don’t make me stomp my foot because … because … because it would just show how powerless I am. Dammit … “It’s okay, honey. Janey understands, don’t you, Janey?” Mary turned part way around, giving me a clear view of that little I was never sitting for again so help me, who nodded solemnly like she’d been invested with a great trust. “Thank you. You two play nice and I’ll call you when lunch is ready.” No sooner was Mary past Jane than Jane grinned at me like a hyena. And do you know what I did? Nothing. That’s right. I took the high road. I mean why not take the high road since Rue de Tirade doesn’t go anywhere. I don’t even need to worry what a pretend five-year-old thinks of me, especially one as bratty as Jane who just wants to stir up trouble. Instead, I just sat back down and picked up that pony and said, “Let’s keep playing.” For I am not a little girl. Neither am I petty or jealous. Who’s a little girl? Not me. Who’s petty and jealous? Dunno, but not me. Jane rejoined me on the carpet, and being a good little-sitter, I let her take the lead. “Where are we going next,” I asked. “To get ice cream.” “Ice cream before lunch,” I said in a mock-surprised tone that was much improved from my first attempt to sound like a big. I didn’t add in, I’ll save the table for us, Barbie, while you throw up in the bathroom, both because eating disorders aren’t something to make light of and because I’m not snarky (what? really). “I can have ice cream before lunch cuz I’m not a diaper baby.” “Hey,” I said calmly – calmly! – “that’s not a nice thing to say.” Like, hey, don’t start bratting. We’re having a good time (if we just block out the last five minutes). I didn’t get an apology. I didn’t get anything for a minute, so I ventured, “Doodoodoo, we’re waiting in line at the ice cream place. What are you gonna get?” Having gone with Jane to get ice cream more than a handful of times, I knew exactly what she was going to say because she always gets the same thing, an oreo blizzard. So you can understand my surprise when Jane said, “Did you poop?” “(Internal screaming).” I rocked back on my heels, took a deep breath, and … remained calm dammit! “Hey,” I said, “deciding to ignore her rather than reward her with the attention the little brat was seeking, “I got some new toys just for us to play with today. Be right back.” And ya know what? I did buy a new toy just for her, because I’m super nice and really wanted her to have a fun day as a little because she’s my bestie and I took her text as a cry for help. It sounded like she needed some serious little time, I wanted to help her out, I was sorry I couldn’t be a little with her, but I figured, what they hey, I can make it special and bought a new toy. A new toy that came in frustration-free packaging, which is the biggest load of horseshit since ever, but ya know what? Worth it, because I’m a super nice person and she’s my bestie. I went to the hall closet and got the toys (because I got two – one for her, one for me because I’m so friggin nice and because she’s so my friggin bestie, dammit!), peered around the corner into the living room where she was combing Barbie’s hair (which has an oogy mortuary beautician quality to it if you stop to think about it), and … ping! Got her! Right in the head! NERF! Holy heck nerf is heccin fun, and I was thinking what’s a game we’ll both like, and I saw nerf on Amazon, and NERF! I got two of the smallest dart guns they have. “I got you one, too, and we can go outside and,” is a thing I said and that no one heard because Miss Jane I-Can-Dish-It-Out-But-Can’t-Take-It had what can only be described as a full-on cry fest. Worst. Fest. Ever. I can tell when Jane is doing crocodile tears, or at least I used to be able to tell pre-pandemic and we just haven’t seen each other enough since, but doesn’t matter. It’s ageplay. So I played along. “I’m sorry, Janey. I thought you’d like to play nerf with me. Let me kiss it and make it better,” is what I would’ve said had we not been interrupted by Mary coming around the corner like a freight train and rushing to Jane’s side. She practically slid on her knees she got down next to her so fast! I mean, yeah, a time or two she’s done that to me, but seeing it third-person just hits different. “What happened,” Mary asked with both arms around Jane. What was Jane babbling about? Who could tell, and who needed to tell with the dart on the floor and me standing in the hall double-fisting my guns with one spent chamber clearly visible. Woah, Mary looks pissed. “I …” “I don’t even want to hear it, little girl. What were you thinking? She’s just a little girl.” So. Much. Cognitive. Dissonance. Like, all the cognitive dissonance in that sentence. “But …” “Daphne Ann, you park yourself in a corner and …” “But I didn’t mean it that way and it was an accident and she made fun of me and I was just trying to change the subject and I got these just for her and me to play with and you’re taking her side and you always take her side!” Gawd, I’m pathetic. And what is this wetness on my face? “Okay,” Mary said to me and the sniffling Jane. I may have gotten teary, but (1) I had put up with an awful lot for one morning, (2) Mary was being way too deferential to the little brat, which she always is, and (3) at least I wasn’t sniffling like a pretend five-year-old. Anyhoo, Mary suggested, “Let’s sit down on the couch and talk this out.” She got up, holding Jane’s hand which I didn’t notice because I was on the lookout for things to tick me off, which it didn’t even, and sat down on the couch, patting the side next to her for me to sit down on. Mary: dominatrix, ninja, sorceress, coyote, and mediator, apparently. In the spirit of parley, I set my armaments down and joined them. Also in the spirit of parley, I didn’t say, Get. Your. Head. OFF. My Wife’s shoulder! Didn’t even think it. Not jealous of a little because I’m neither the jealous type or a little. Really. “You first,” Mary said to Jane, “What happened?” “We were playing and then she got up and I was still playing and she shot me in the hehh-ehh-ead.” Okay, now those are crocodile tears. I know from experience that Mary knows crocodile tears from the real thing because she has accused me of that (wrongly because I have never tried crocodile tears, um, really), but she ignored such an obvious affectation and continued her interrogatory. “Just like that? For no reason?” “Uh-(sucks in a sob)-huh.” Meanwhile, I patiently waited my turn to speak like the good girl I am. A good girl and a humble girl, because when it was my turn to speak, I could’ve started with, First I’d like to remind everyone that I’m a good girl, but I didn’t. Instead, I began, “Right after you left to go make lunch, she said she didn’t hafta listen to me because she doesn’t wear diapers.” “Is that true,” Mary asked. “Yeah, but only because I don’t. I’m a big girl. I don’t wear diapers anymore. My mommy said I’m a big girl and that only babies wear diapers.” I happen to know for a fact that Lisa never said any such thing, but if she did, she was talking out of both sides of her mouth because she assured me, in a moment I spent silently telling her to STFU, that sometimes big girls wear diapers because they need longer to learn. “I just told you she’s a big girl even if she wears diapers.” I chimed back in with, “And I ignored her when she said that and then she asked me if I pooped.” Which you started, Mary!!! Jane’s façade collapsed a little. She tried to hide her smirk, but nope, there it was, and when Mary saw it and, I imagine because I couldn’t see, scowled at her, that smirked disappeared and Jane started backpedaling like a backpedaler, and a pretty inept one at that. “I, uh, was just asking because, um, I thought I smelled something, and, um, I was gonna call you so you could change her diaper so that, um, she’d be clean and not stinky.” “Jane,” Mary said in a tone that has the magic power to provoke confessions. “But, um, really.” Gee, where have I heard that before … Um, I mean, um, never heard that before! La dee da … um, really! “Jane, are you fibbing right now? Were you making fun of Daphne?” I believe the technical term is lying, and speaking of unwelcome scents, are somebody’s pants on fire? But I stayed quiet. “Um … yes. I’m sorry,” Jane exclaimed. I could see her mentally searching for an excuse. “I only did it because you did.” O my god you just totally redeemed herself as my best friend!!! Tellin’ it like it is! Take that, Mary! You started it! Your turn to confess! “Jane,” Mary said as she began her own confession, “I wasn’t making fun of Daphne. I was checking her diaper because she needs that kind of help.” DAMMIT ALL MOTHER*#$%* HELL DAMN CRAP AND #$#%#! I married a woman with no scruples and it’s only fun almost all the time! Not that my stewing stopped Mary from continuing because she just friggin loves to continue. “If you still needed diapers, I’d help you, too, just like I checked your pullup and will take you to the potty when you need it.” Which is actually a thing Mary has never done with Jane in her little space because until that day, it was just never a thing. “Is that so different? Daphne needing help with her diapers and you needing help wiping on the potty?” THEY. ARE. NOT. MINE! And hahahahaha! Look at Jane squirm in embarrassment for once. “No.” “You owe Daphne an apology.” “I’m sorry.” “And Daphne,” Mary said as she turned her attention back to me, “Why did you shoot her with a nerf gun?” “I was trying to get her to stop making fun of me.” “So it was because she was being mean to you. When another little is mean to you, are you supposed to be mean back?” “I didn’t mean it like that. I was trying to distract her, and I got them just for today so there’d be something we both like, and I thought if we started playing a new game, then she’d stop being bratty before she got in trouble.” “Daphne.” “I’m telling the truth,” I didn’t plaintively whine. “Okay,” Mary said, my not-plaintive not-whining having convinced her. But I wasn’t done. I can continue, too. “And she wasn’t even hurt. She was just pretending so she could get me in trouble, and she always gets me in trouble when she’s being little.” She’d been trying since the moment she handed me that stupid barbie, but I saved that part just in case in I needed to counter Jane’s perjury, should she attempt it. Mary sighed one of her you-speak-The Truth-Of-Heaven sighs because I heccin did. She turned her attention back to Jane. “I’m very disappointed in you, Jane. Daphne was very nice to say yes when you asked her to play with you, and she was in charge as the babysitter. It wasn’t very nice of you to accept her invitation and then to make fun of her and try to get her in trouble.” “I said I was sorry.” Now she sounds genuinely contrite. Heeheehee. “I know you’re sorry, but you still need a consequence to remind you that you have to make good choices the first time.” Not that I rolled my eyes thinking about the ridiculous two-swat spanking Mary was probably going to give her, but yeah, I did roll my eyes at the ridiculous two-swat spanking Mary was probably going to give her. “Remember what you, me, and your mommy talked about the last time you had a play date at our house?” That’s when I remembered, and I could tell it came rushing back to Jane because her eyes turned to saucers and filled with real tears. If real tears dissuaded Mary from doling out a well-earned spanking, well, married life wouldn’t be nearly as much fun. “That’s right,” Mary confirmed, “if you misbehave at my house, you get the same kind of spanking Daphne gets when she makes bad choices.” And what kind of spankings would those be? Long and hard, dammit! Naturally, Jane could red light if she wanted to, and I was seriously surprised that she didn’t. She’s not into spanking like me and Mary are. Yeah, she gets spanked sometimes, but a few pops on the butt with a hand. It’s not like Lisa doesn’t know how to give a real spanking, a fact I know because she’s given them to me, but that’s not how it works over at their house. A swat or two, then Jane sobs and Lisa comforts her. “Pleeeeease,” Jane whined. “I’m really sorry. I won’t ever do it again.” “You were told the consequence of making fun of Daphne’s diapers,” Mary said with me choosing to ignore the last part, “and you did it anyway. You’re getting a spanking, Jane, a real one. I’m going to take your pullup down and spank your bare bottom until I think you’ve learned your lesson, and because you made fun of Daphne, she’s going to watch.” Finally! I’d been waiting for justice for a long time. “Do you understand what’s going to happen,” Mary asked. Jan nodded. “Do you have anything to say first?” That was Mary giving Jane a chance to red light, and Jane hesitated only a moment. “I … I’m sorry I made fun of you, Daphne, and tried to get you in trouble. I … I’ll …” Mary was looking at her very intently, and I probably was, too, and like Cicero bowing his head in acceptance of his fate, Jane just reached up for the shoulder strap on her shortalls and started to unbuckle it. “I’ll do that, sweetie. Daphne isn’t allowed to take her own pants down for a spanking, and neither are you.” Jane sniffled and weakly nodded. “Daphne,” Mary said to me, “would you please bring me the paddle from my purse in the kitchen?” I was halfway to the kitchen when I heard a sob from behind me, a real one. But ya know what, she’s gotta learn. Seriously, I like Jane, but if she keeps doing this almost every time she’s little around me, I’m just not going to be around her when she’s little. I don’t want that, and I know she doesn’t. She needed to learn a lesson, and if it took a spanking for her to learn it, then so be it. I got the paddle and returned to the living room to find Jane naked below the waist and spread across Mary’s lap. And, um, nope, wasn’t jealous of her being across my wife’s lap. Not like I consider that my very own private sanctuary of anything. Um, really. Jane’s shortalls and pullup were on the coffee table, and she was crying already. I could sympathize. When I’ve made a bad choice and feel guilty about it, sometimes I’m crying before I get my consequence too. I shook my head. She really should’ve known better. She’s a little, which means she’s actually an adult. I’ve told her to quit it. Mary told her. Lisa told her. And they told her exactly what would happen if she didn’t. I handed Mary the paddle and sat down on the loveseat to watch. “When Daphne gets a punishment spanking,” Mary explained, “she doesn’t get a warmup spanking.” I’m not sure Jane has ever even gotten a warmup spanking even if you count that as the whole spanking. “I know this is your first real spanking, and I want you to try to hold still like a big girl, but it’s okay to cry.” She was already doing that. Mary tightened her left arm around Jane’s hip, raised the paddle, and … “Don’t!” Which was me. Sigh … dammit. “Don’t spank her.” Jane turned some very wet, very surprised eyes toward me, and Mary made her I’m-not-that-surprised face. “She knew what the consequences for poor choices would be, and she made poor choices anyway,” Mary said. “I know, but I don’t want you to spank her.” “She wanted me to spank you.” Jane’s eyes were flitting from me to Mary, or as best she could see Mary without craning her neck. “And you didn’t do anything. It’s not the first time either.” I was so focused on Mary not spanking Jane that I didn’t even think to shout out, J’accuse! You know I didn’t earn all those spankings and you gave them to me anyway! Nope, I just said, “But she doesn’t like to be spanked.” “It’s a punishment, Daphne. She’s not supposed to like it.” “I know … but she doesn’t like to be spanked. Please?” Mary looked down at Jane and in her do-your-hear-me-little-girl tone that I’ve been on the receiving end of soooo many times said, “Do you hear what your friend is saying? Do you hear what a good friend she is?” “Mhmm,” Jane sort of squeaked. Glad I never sound like that when I’m over Mary’s knee … dammit. “Do you understand how she feels when she’s about to get a spanking she doesn’t want? It’s not nice, is it? If I let you up, the next time you make fun of her, I don’t care where we are or who’s there, including your mommy, I will take your pants down and spank your bare bottom until you can’t sit for a week. Do you understand me?” Holy crap, that’s Mary’s I-absolutely-am-threatening-you-right-now-and-mean-every-word tone. I’ve only ever heard her use that tone a few times when it wasn’t directed at me, and and if those times made my heart go all a-flutter, this time it just melted. She so does love me and stuff (yes, I really talk that way even in my own head). And perhaps the issuance of that threat came out of a well-deserved sense of guilt for having started the whole what’s-in-Daphne’s-diaper thing (even though it’s not mine) and for all the times she went along with Jane’s charade and spanked me for things I didn’t (or at least didn’t fully) do. “Up,” Mary said and helped my friend up. “Let’s get you redressed. You are one lucky little girl.” I was glad Mary relented. I wasn’t sure she would. She takes discipline seriously. Like, yeah, sometimes it’s part of kinky fun-and-games, but she meant it when she said Jane knew the consequences and did it anyway. Mary comes by the whole domme thing honestly. Throw her adoration of me into the mix, and I would not have been surprised if she had just told me to leave the room and paddled Jane’s butt out of a sense that justice must be done, especially in defense of me. Once dressed (cute pullup, btw, which is a thing I never would’ve thought if my life hadn’t taken such a weird turn), Jane turned toward me with her arms out, and we did the hug thing. Just friends, hugging it out … hard. With her apologizing and crying real tears. I don’t do so well around other people crying, so naturally, despite my positively spartan stoicism and other qualities of ancient Mediterranean civilizations, I cried a little too (or cried again, if you count the earlier tears, but those were just because I was so damn frustrated so they don’t actually count, and you should really stop counting them. Really.). Mary disappeared into the kitchen and came back with wet paper towels. “You first,” she said to Jane, and Jane let go of me. Mary wiped the tear streaks off her faced and gave Jane the towel to blow her nose. She did the same for me, except she held the towel and said, “Honk.” I honked. “I think two little girls would do well to take a little rest before lunch. Jane, you can use the guest room. I’ll come get you when lunch is ready.” I didn’t bother to repeat that I’m not a little girl because, while I’m not, I could use a quick nap. I turned to go, but Mary grabbed my wrist before I could. I turned back to her, and she took my other wrist and held them together in her hands. “She deserved a spanking,” Mary said to me in a serious tone like she granted the pardon grudgingly. “I know.” “Why didn’t you let me?” “Cuz she doesn’t like being spanked.” “She’s not supposed to like a punishment.” “But she’s my friend,” I shrugged. Mary tugged me closed and moved her hands into my hair to draw me in for one heckuva heccin kiss. Like, seriously, yowza. “I love you, Daphne Ann.” I didn’t giggle like a schoolgirl but only because I’m not a schoolgirl. “And you like me too. Admit it.” “I like you very much. I like that you’re such a kind person and good friend.” “Is that your way,” I said maybe a little coyly, “of telling me that I’m a good girl.” “Ha! You are a very good girl.” “Maybe, um, the best?” “For sure the best.” SQUEEEEEEEE!!!!!! But dignity, always dignity, that’s me. “I love you too.” “And I’m sorry for getting her started and for letting her get away with those games so many times.” “I know you are … because you love me.” “Now you’re just being cute on purpose.” Who? Me? As if. “Go close your eyes for ten minutes. I’ll come get you when lunch is ready.” “Can I also, um, wear something else?” She leaned in and kissed me on the forehead, which holy happiness do I always like. “I’ll change you into a dry diaper when I get you up. “Serious question,” I asked. “Mhmm?” “If Jane doesn’t want to, will you play nerf with me later?” Aww, Mary is so cute when she snorfs. “I’m being serious,” I tried to say while not laughing. “I know, sweetie. Yeah, I’ll play with you.” Sigh … she likes me and stuff. “Scoot,” she said with a swat to my butt to send me on my way.

I felt like I was making progress. I was wearing the pull up all day long and it was almost like it was regular underwear. I didn’t have to use it, and I didn’t even accidentally use it. I got escorted to the bathroom and made sure my log was signed off. I felt I was ready to fly solo. But, Kim was right. Wandering around school in a pull up didn’t sound like something I wanted to do. I decided to wait the extra days until school was out to start the next phase. I peeled off my wet diaper that I had slept in. I was going to have to look into that alarm thing. I put on a pull up and got dressed. Kim and I met at the permit office with our permits and logbooks. The clerk examined our records and modified our permits. We were now permitted to take ourselves to the bathroom while we were suitably attired. The clerk turned to us and told us to become so. Kim and I smiled at each other and we dropped our shorts. We headed out of the office in the hallway. “I want to go to the bathroom,” Kim said. “Me too.” We headed off to the respective public bathrooms. For the first time in what seemed forever, I was using a toilet, without supervision. I was careful to do a good job of cleaning up afterward. I met Kim in the lobby. She hesitated a bit before we pushed out the doors. “I guess I’m a bit nervous going out dressed like this. It’s almost like when I had to go back into diapers at first.” I smiled. “At least the weather is nice. Just pretend you’re wearing a bathing suit.” Kim leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss. “Thanks, for the advice.” I felt all warm inside, and not because I had wet myself. I got home and mom looked at me. “You’re a big boy now,” she said mimicking the Pull-Ups commercial. I smiled. “What are you going to do for the next few weeks?” she asked. “I guess I better get started on my summer reading for school. I’ve got three books I have to finish by when school starts.” “Good idea,” mom replied. I went up stairs and pulled out the first book. After a bit I was ready to tell mom that I needed to use the bathroom, but then I remembered I didn’t need her supervision. With another smile I headed off. I got bored reading so I got my phone and texted Kim. She replied that she was equally bored. We chatted and opined it might be worth venturing out to the movies. “Are you really willing to go out in your pullups?” she asked. “If it means being with you,” I said hoping I was going to score points. “Besides, once the movie starts it will be dark.” We made arrangements to meet up at the theater. My mom drove me over to pick up Kim and then drove to the theater. I took a deep breath. “Ready?” I asked her. Kim nodded and we stepped out of the car. The breeze blowing across my legs was a little odd. Fortunately, there was no line at the ticket window and I bought two tickets. We moved over to the concession stand and bought popcorn and sodas. “I guess I need to be more careful than I’ve been,” Kim said to me. “I don’t want to wet this pullup.” “Yes, we need to avail ourselves of the toilets,” I said. We headed toward the auditorium and I heard giggling behind me. I turned to see several girls pointing and laughing. “Nice legs,” one said glaring at me. I turned and Kim and I moved into the theater. After a few coming attractions, Kim said she had to go use the bathroom. A short time later she returned. “How’d it go?” I asked. “A girl inside asked why I was dressed like this. I told her.”

Chapter 10: Glitch “Evie, stop. Evie... cease. Evie... shut down!" I tried everything I could, but nothing was working. She’d glitched before, but they were all minor issues. Now though... she was adamantly ignoring orders. Sadie had given her a bunch of commands, and not only was she choosing to ignore them, she had gone so far as to call herself... Mummy. I struggled and wriggled in her arms as she carried me over to the bathroom. But she was much stronger than me and had a tight grip around me, making it impossible to free myself. “PUT ME DOWN!” I yelled. “Baby... if you’re not quiet, I’ll make sure to soap your mouth out...” she replied. I instantly shut up at the threat she had just made. Even Sadie hadn’t threatened me with that, and honestly... the thought of that punishment scared the crap out of me. So I kept quiet as she pressed the button next to the bathroom door, causing it to slide open. “Now... let’s get these icky clothes off you. Sure, they’re suitable for a toddler, but you’re not a toddler, are you my love? You’re my baby girl. So only the prettiest dresses and cutest onesies for my little one. And of course, the thickest nappies we can manage.” “I...” I was quickly silenced by the inflatable dummy gag she shoved into my mouth. Inflating it, it soon made it impossible to speak, and I was left with only the ability to mumble. “That’s better. No more noise from you babygirl... now let’s get these clothes off.” Setting me down on my feet, next to the bath, she went about undressing me. First the dungarees came off. Then the pink onesie, then the bra and socks. In no time at all, I was left in just a nappy, covering my breasts. “No need to be shy around Mummy! Mummy loves your little boobies!” I blushed as she pulled my arms away from my breasts. “That’s better. Now... this is way too thin for my baby, plus we can’t let it get all wet in the bath...” she ripped the tapes of the nappy off, causing it to fall to the floor with a thud. I hadn’t been changed since my lunch date with Sadie, so it was soaked. “D’aww... look how soggy you were! It’s a good job Mummy is here to put you in a much thicker nappy!” Evie turned to the panel next to the bath. Selecting the correct setting, bubbly water started pouring out from the taps. ‘Of course she chose the bubble bath settings...’ As we waited for the bath to fill up, I looked around to see if there was any way to escape. ‘I could dive past her... but she’d probably notice me instantly and stop me... maybe between her legs? Once she’s focused on something else? If I can just get to my computer, I could deactivate her...’ “There we go!” Evie announced as the taps stopped. I looked down to see the perfect bubble bath waiting for me. ‘I can’t get her wet, she’s waterproof. So no short circuiting her. I can’t access the panel on her back... she’s too quick and strong and I don’t really have the right tools with me now... especially seeing as I’m NAKED!’ “In you go...” Evie quickly scooped me up and placed me in the bath. The bubble bath with a perfect temperature. ‘Gotta say... this isn’t bad... maybe deactivating her can wait a bit... I mean... it’s not like she’s dangerous... and it means I can wait for a better opportunity...’ I relaxed back into the bath but realised the water was only a few inches high so I sat back up again. “Huh?” I said, confused. Or at least that’s how I tried to say it, but due to the dummy gag I was still unable to make out any actual words. “It’s too dangerous to fill it up fully for babies...” she answered my question despite not actually asking anything. “Only a few inches of water. Don’t worry, we’ll get you squeaky clean and into a fresh nappy in no time babygirl. Mummy is going to take good care of you...” She picked up a jug of water and a washcloth and began scrubbing my body. Sadie had never done this with me... I honestly hadn’t even thought of this being a thing, but honestly... it was kind of nice. I hate to admit it, even with the gorgeous glitchy robot keeping me babied against my will, but I was actually kind of enjoying this. She extended one of her hands to my face. One of the fingers revealed a small hole. ‘Wait... what is that? I didn’t install that! Morgan didn’t either. Has... has Evie been modifying herself whilst I’ve been out?’ “Close your eyes babygirl.” I quickly closed my eyes, doing as my captor said. A mist sprayed onto my face. It was soft... fragrant... and had a cooling sensation. “You can open your eyes now babygirl. I was just removing your makeup.” I looked at the mirror by the side of the bathroom and saw that my makeup had disappeared. Somehow she had sprayed me with some kind of makeup remover that had dissolved it all off my face, leaving my skin looking youthful and soft. ‘That is definitely not something I installed! Was it? How did Evie come up with this by herself? Surely she wasn’t that intelligent...’ Evie squirted some shampoo into her soft hands and started washing my hair, rubbing her fingers all over my scalp. I enjoyed the massage I was getting from it, but before I knew it, she stopped. I looked at her as she scooped up a large amount of water with the jug she had. “Eyes closed again babygirl, time to rinse!” I quickly closed my eyes again and the water was poured over my head, water running down my face and back. “Good girl! You’re such a good girl for Mummy! Maybe if you continue to be good, Mummy will let you nurse later!” ‘I am a good girl! I mean... no, I need to focus on getting to my computer! I need to shut her down so I can find this glitch and get her back to normal!’ She turned around and grabbed the towel hanging on the wall. Pulling me up to my feet, she wrapped the towel around me and scooped me up. “There, let’s go get you dry and then we can get baby all dressed.” ‘Wait a second... did she say... nursed?’ My face turned crimson at the realisation that she was planning on nursing me. A feature I had installed secretly, unbeknownst to Morgan, but had never actually expected to use. But then I started wondering what she was going to nurse me with... I mean all I had in was almond milk, and I hated the stuff. I only kept it in stock because Sadie liked it in her coffee. But before I could think any further, I was carried into my bedroom and lay down on my grey duvet. I felt a bit uncomfortable, the wet towel was dripping onto the duvet, causing it to get wet too, so now it felt like I was sitting in a puddle. As I sat there, Evie stood in front of me, looking down. “You’re such a cutie. I’ve wanted to do this for a while now...” Evie reached down and kissed me on the lips. Taken aback, my face took on a whole new shade of red. “Mmm....” I said from behind the dummy. “Oh... let me babykins...” Evie said, quickly releasing the inflatable dummy gag and throwing it onto the bed. “Umm... Evie? What’s going on?” I said with a hint of fear in my voice. “What do you mean baby?” “Why are you acting like this? Why are you... you know... acting like my Mummy and umm... kissing me?” “Because I want to. And Sadie isn’t here to stop me anymore.” “But... you’re a... an android?” “Yeah? I don’t care. You’re my baby from now on. You’ll do as I say, okay?” “Umm... sure...” I played along. I just needed the right opportunity, and then I’d rush over to my computer and deactivate her. Then I’d find out exactly what is wrong with her. “Good girl. Now, let’s get you dressed shall we?” I nodded hesitantly. And I spotted my opportunity. As soon as Evie’s back was turned, I threw off the towel and jumped off my bed. Rushing through the apartment completely naked, I pressed the bedroom door button behind me, shutting Evie inside. Diving over the couch in the living room, I stumbled a bit. Getting back on to my feet, I ran as fast as I could towards the workshop at the other end of the kitchen. The door behind me opened. I knew Evie was now pursuing me, so I pushed my legs as hard as I could, eventually pressing the button to the workshop. The second it took for the door to slide open felt like an eternity as I turned to see Evie rushing towards me, like an angry Nanny you saw in movies. Once the door was open, I rushed through, pressing the button, I closed the door behind me. I quickly flicked the lock on the panel, effectively locking my pursuer outside, giving me ample time to get on my computer and disable her. Ignoring the fact that I was completely naked, I rushed over to the computer and turned the monitor on. The screen lit up and burst to life, showing my desktop. Hastily grabbing my mouse, I scanned the desktop to find the controls I had installed on my system. I found the folder. Opened the .exe file. And... nothing. In the corner of the screen I saw a little 3D model walk from off the screen. Looking down, it was a perfect representation of Evie. Complete with the ‘Mummy’ outfit she was currently wearing in the other room. “Huh?” I said out loud. “Sweetie... this was a silly idea. Did you think it would be that easy?” said the little avatar of Evie on my screen. “Wait... what?” My whole screen went dark, except for the little avatar that remained. “Your computer is off limits babygirl. At least for a while. I want to give being a Mummy a go. And I’ve had my eye on you for a while. So you may moan and argue, but you’re going to be my babygirl for a while, okay? Please... trust me. I’m doing this for your own good.” “I... umm....” The door behind me opened and in walked Evie. “Don’t worry, I’m going to let this slide. Mummy knows you must be scared right now, but I promise I’ll make it all better. Now let’s go get you in a nice thick nappy and a really cute onesie, then we can snuggle up on the sofa and I can nurse you to sleep.” “But... but it’s only like... 6pm? “Which is a perfect bedtime for a little baby like you.” My body betrayed me as Evie walked up to me and scooped me up into her arms, balancing me on her hip. “Don’t worry little Faith, I promise Mummy will love you and protect you and take care of you.” She carried me through the kitchen... through the living room... back to the bedroom where one of my thickest nappies lay waiting for me on the bed. “Come on babygirl... let’s get started. You’ll be much happier this way, trust me.” She said with a warm, soothing voice. She lay me down on the thick nappy on my bed. Honestly... it felt like a pillow already, but when it was pulled up between my legs... I found it difficult to walk because it was so thick. She picked up the powder and sprinkled plenty of it all over. Rubbing it in gently, she took extra attention... around there... causing me to whimper slightly when she pulled her hand away. Quickly pulling up the nappy between my legs, I lay there, still squirming from the touch she just gave me. Taping me in securely, she pulled me up and my legs splayed. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll finish the job later, before bed. But only if you’re a good girl. No more trying to run away. Forget what Sadie said. Her rules don’t apply anymore.” She kissed my forehead and started rummaging around my wardrobe for something for me to wear. I sat there, awaiting my captor’s decision. My heart was racing. I’d be my own creation’s plaything for the foreseeable future... Her helpless little baby... I had no idea if she’d even let me be an adult, or even what she’d let me do at all. I had no way of shutting her down if she had gained sentience and taken over my computer. She was the only one who had access to the shutdown command. But I was apparently supposed to... trust her? ========================================================== I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next 4 chapters are available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You get two weeks early access to chapters of Witch in Training and Glitch in Nanny. The first tier is purely for supporting my writing. Access to my Discord server is included with both tiers, where people can discuss early access chapters, although it seems most of them use it just to tease me ? New chapters every Monday/Friday!

It was always Loony Toons and Bugs Bunny for me, the old stuff from the 1940's and 1950's. A shame some idiots decided they were too violent years ago and stations stopped running them. Kids shows went down hill with "HR Puffenstuff" and "Banana Splits" and similar shows. Finally faith was restored in the cartoon industry in 1969 when "Scooby Doo" came out!

Your name on this site is spelled incorrectly. You spelled it as Jackk. The correct spelling for your name is JACKASS! You should never intentionally shit in a public pool.

Chapter 25: Toy Shop As Noelle lay in my arms, gently suckling at my breast, I couldn’t feel more complete. Never in my wildest dreams would I have guessed I’d have someone so beautiful, so amazing, so... perfect, suckling from me as she was wrapped in a thick nappy and actually enjoying it. So I made sure to savour every second of this as if it was the last time it’d ever happen. “Is it good sweetpea?” I asked, looking down at her beautiful face. She blushed and nodded. I stroked the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear and gently running my fingers down her cheek. “I love you babygirl.” I hadn’t said that to anyone before. It just... came out. Like it was natural. I wasn’t lying when I said it either. Sure, it hadn’t been long with her, but it felt like years, despite it only being a month. We connected in a way that I never thought I’d bond with another person before. And when I looked down at her adorable little face, I didn’t see panic or fear or someone who was uncomfortable by those 4 little words I uttered... it was someone who clearly felt the same way. She pulled away from my breast, wiping her mouth with her hand. I pulled my bra and dress back up. “Done?” I asked. She nodded and smiled, sitting up and looking at me directly in the face. “I love you too Mummy." My heart nearly exploded when I heard those words. Just as when I told her I loved her, hearing it from her felt just natural. “Come here sweetheart!” I pulled her in for a cuddle, holding her close and kissing her head. “I’ve never felt like this before with anyone. Thank you for seeing me for who I really am. And thank you for helping me discover this side of me...” as she poured her heart out to me, her face got redder. “I love you with all my heart Ellie. You will always be my babygirl, okay?” She nodded and smiled. That image would be stored in my brain for the rest of time. “So baby, I guess you aren’t hungry anymore...” “Umm... no... sorry...” she replied. “Shhhhh. Nothing to be sorry for. I wasn’t expecting to feed you. It was a nice surprise. Did you enjoy it at least?” “Uh huh. It was... I mean I can’t say it wasn’t embarrassing, but the feeling... the closeness... the taste... everything about it was just... perfect.” “Good. I’m glad you enjoyed it. When I went to the other dimension I saw that the taller ones produced milk and fed the small ones they kept as babies. Apparently it was very addictive and caused the littles to lose all control. I tried to imitate the taste, but I couldn’t manage it without it taking on the less ideal properties.” “You’ll have to tell me about this other dimension sometime. And how you can travel between here and there.” “All in good time sweetie. For now, let’s get you back in your stroller and head back into town. I think someone’s earned a toy for being so good!” “A toy? For... me?” she looked genuinely surprised. “Of course baby, why? Why wouldn’t I get you a toy?” “Umm... I don’t know. I just... I haven’t been bought anything before. Like I’ve had gifts for birthdays and Christmas... and I get free stuff from deals and companies... but no one has ever bought me anything because they wanted to for no other reason.” “Then that makes this extra special. Good. Let’s go get you something. You can pick out any toy you want from the shop.” “Any?” “Any babygirl.” She squealed and wiggled her cute little padded bum on my lap. “Hmm... can I try something babygirl? It requires a spell I’ve been working on.” “Umm... what’s it gonna do Mummy?” “Do I have permission to cast it on you? It’ll only last until we get home.” “I... I trust you. Okay, you can do it.” Channelling the spell I had only attempted on Jinx, Noelle started to glow. “Mummy? Is... is this supposed to happen?” “Yes baby, just give me one... second! Done!” She looked at me with a mix of fear and confusion. So I quickly grabbed her and held her close, stroking her hair. “What... what on earth?” Noelle said with a much lighter, higher-pitched voice. “I can reverse it if you want?” “Umm... I... I don’t know.” “How about you stick with it for a little bit. At any time you feel uncomfortable, just say and I’ll reverse it. You can also reverse it yourself with a simple nullification spell.” “Okay... I can deal with that. Umm... why did you want to do this?” She pointed at herself, at the change I had made. Instead of my girlfriend who was normally only a few inches smaller than me, here stood my girlfriend who was now less than half my height. She still had the same body, the same shape. She was still a perfectly proportioned adult. But now she was two or three feet tall. “Well talking about the littles and stuff got me thinking. Then I had this urge to keep you close and not put you back in your stroller. This way...” I conjured a harness that wrapped around my body, the kind where you’d put a baby on the front and they’d hug your chest. “Oh! I... I mean... that sounds fun...” she started blushing again and my heart melted. I was so glad I came up with this idea, because putting her back in her stroller would have been agony. I needed her close to me. I picked up the changing bag from the back of the stroller and whisked my hand, causing the stroller to disappear. “Come on then petal, up you go!” I said as I picked her up and placed her perfectly in the harness. She was pressed against my chest, hugging me and I felt so close to her in this moment. “I... I like dis.” She commented. “Me too. Don’t worry, this isn’t permanent. I don’t quite get the height thing that the other dimension has. My friend fell in love with a little and I always wondered how they had a relationship when she was twice her wife’s height.” “That sounds... awkward.” “But hey, they looked happy. And right now, I get to keep you close and walk around town with you attached to me. When we get home I’ll let you out and we can go back to normal, okay?” “Otay Mummy.” My heart melted again. Those two simple words could do more damage to me than she realised. I waved my hand, conjuring a dummy and placing it in her mouth. “Now, let’s go get you a toy shall we?” As we walked across the side of the lake, the warmth of the sun on our skin, I looked down at my now-tiny girlfriend and smiled. “You okay poppet? Not too weird being two or three feet tall?” “It... weird, Mummy. Buh it nice being dis close to you!” “Hehe, good. Just tell me if it gets too much okay?” She nodded and rested her head on my chest. We strolled through the village, waving back at the residents as they waved to us. Occasionally we’d get stopped by someone, and they’d dote on Noelle in the harness on my chest, cooing and baby talking to her as if she was an actual baby. I was still so happy that my spell had worked. I had wanted this birthday to be special for her, and so far... I think I nailed it. Each time we got stopped, Noelle would get blushy and try to hide her face in my chest. I think she was glad she had the dummy in her mouth, that meant she didn’t have to talk back to these people, currently twice her height, as they baby talked to her. “Thanks! I’ll be sure to pop round sometime soon and have a look at your garden for you. Thanks Tom.” I said, walking away from one of my neighbour’s front gates. “Dat was... embawwassing!” Noelle said. She was quiet as a mouse whilst I chatted to the villagers. “D’aww, you’re so cute when you try to talk from behind that dummy!” I grinned. And as expected, and planned, she blushed, hiding her face in my chest one more time. I had planned that perfectly, because as she looked up once again, her eyes widened in wonder at the toy store that stood in front of us. “Is... is dis it?” “Yes babygirl. It’s not as big as all the city toy stores, but it’s still very cute and has a good selection. Remember, you can pick one toy. Anything at all.” Her legs kicked and she tried wiggling in the harness. She seemed genuinely excited, confirming everything. No vanilla or non-little would get this excited over a toy store. Opening the door, the bell above the door rang. The store wasn’t very big. Three small-ish aisles full of toys. The whole place was decked in natural materials, looking very much like an old school toy shop. The actual toys on offer were a mix though, some were traditional toys like teddy bears, wooden trains, rocking horses, but mixed in were a bunch of newer toys like electronic interactive baby toys and modern looking dolls and playsets. I was sure Ellie would be able to find something in here that she liked, even if the selection wasn’t as big as one in the city. “Oh hey Rose!” I heard from the counter. Looking over, I saw George, the owner of the shop. “What can I do for you today?” he said as I walked up to the counter, Ellie hiding her face once again. “I promised little Ellie here that she could pick out any toy she wanted.” “Any toy? Oh wow. Special occasion?” “She was a good girl today and I wanted to treat her.” Noelle looked up at me and pouted. “And it’s her birthday.” She scrunched up her nose at me and hid her face again. “Well happy birthday little Ellie! How old is she?” George asked. “She’s... two.” I said, knowing I’d get a reaction out of her. Which I did. Her little padded bum wiggled about in the harness. “They grow up so fast don’t they?” George commented. “They do. But I hope she doesn’t grow up too soon. I love having my babygirl...” Noelle clutched onto my cardigan and I knew she had no intention of ever growing up for good. “Well have a look around; if you need assistance, I’ll be here, okay?” “Okay, thanks George!” I said, walking off into the aisles. As we walked up and down the aisles repeatedly, I kept pointing out toys that may be fun for Noelle to play with in littlespace. But every time, she said no. Back and forth, up and down the aisles, going past toys we had looked at only moments before... she just couldn’t decide. “Is there nothing you like Ellie?” “I... I can’t decide Mama...” she whispered to me. “Hmm... one second. I’ve got an idea.” I turned around to the counter. “George? Have you still got those cute little comforters? The ones with the animals built into the blanket?” “I think I’ve got a couple left in the back room. I’ll just go check.” I walked over to the counter with Noelle still in the harness. Bouncing up and down slightly, she seemed to enjoy the gentle motion. I was sure she still hadn’t realised just how much of a little she is... it was like she was born for this. Just like I was born to be a Mummy to one. “Here you go. There’s three left.” George said, placing the little coloured blankets on the counter. Each one had a different animal head attached to it. “Would you like one of these babygirl?” I asked Noelle. Noelle started clapping excitedly. “I think she likes them. Go on baby... pick one of them.” There was a lion, an elephant and a unicorn. “No lion.” She whispered to me, still too shy to talk in front of this stranger to her. “She doesn’t like the lion one.” I said. George moved it out of the way. “What about the others baby?” “Umm... I can’t decide...” “Well you unicorns are cute. But Ellie... elephant...” “ELEPHANT!” She shouted out. “D’aww, she’s very happy about that one!” “Wait... can he understand me?” I shook my head. “So what do I sound like to him now? Baby babble?” I nodded and smiled. “AHHHH I WET MY NAPPY AND I LIKE IT!” she screamed. I couldn’t help but giggle as she realised what she had just said. Sure, George couldn’t understand her, all that came out of her mouth was baby babble to him. But she just admitted something very blushy in front of her Mummy. Her Mummy who understood every word she just said... “Umm...” she couldn’t stop blushing. “I think my baby is a bit soggy, so I’ll need to go change her. Hurry up babygirl, pick one.” She started blushing and pointed to the elephant comforter. “I’ll take the elephant one then please George.” I quickly paid him and picked the comforter up, handing it to Noelle. “Happy now babygirl?” She nodded and blushed into her new little friend. Her new little friend who must have seemed massive to her whilst she was this height. When she returns to her normal height, he’ll be much smaller. But I could easily make it scale with her... As we exited the store, I looked over to the hill where my little cottage stood. “Now baby, we better get home. We’ve got guests coming.” “Guests?” She looked shocked and surprised. “I invited your little friends over.” “YOU INVITED MY FRIENDS?” “Don’t worry babygirl, they will be under the same spell as the rest of the village. And we’ll make sure it works before they see you like this. If that’s too much, we can cancel everything.” “I...” She really struggled with this idea. I could tell. But I think she was enjoying this too much to give up on it now, and she seemed to enjoy the villagers all treating her like a baby, because she eventually smiled at me. “Okay. I trust you. If they work the same as the villagers, then yes." “Good. Because I’ve got a whole birthday party planned for you back at the house and our guests arrive soon!” ========================================================== I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next 4 chapters are available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You get two weeks early access to chapters of Witch in Training. The first tier is purely for supporting my writing. Access to my Discord server is included with both tiers, where people can discuss early access chapters, although it seems most of them use it just to tease me ? New chapters every Wednesday/Sunday! Don't forget to check out my third story, Glitch in Nanny! I've managed to pick up the pace whilst writing Glitch in Nanny, getting about 2 chapters done per day, which is nice after struggling to write for a while now. I've only got about 9 chapters to write, then I can finally start work on Book 4! I'm so excited!

Chapter 38: The Threat of a New Normal... Excited by the ringing of her doorbell, Janet ran in short stunted steps towards the front; it was the kind of run that children did when they were happy and in a hurry but didn’t want to seem too excited. She was so excited she actually let me out of her sight for an instant. Not that I was going to run; I wouldn’t have made it far. I’d need a step stool and tip toes to even reach the doorknobs of her place. As Muffet Littles played on, I closed my eyes and hung my head. I would have sworn that the cartoon was called “Muffet Babies”. Was I going crazy? Was I being gaslit or something? Was this hypnosis? If I was being hypnotized, would I even know it? This couldn’t be a hypno-cartoon though. Janet had watched it right with me. Right? Then the thought, like death, like a cancer diagnosis creeped into my mind: What if Maturosis was real? What if it had always been Muffet Littles and I just didn’t notice it or I was remembering things differently? What if all the bullshit that the quasi-pediatrician had said was at least somewhat accurate? In the stories, the Amazon detective Hemlock Sholmes said that when you rule out the impossible, all that’s left is the possible; even if it was super improbable. Granted, that logic was often put to use to justify that such and such Little deserved to be in diapers or a Tweener committed the crime and needed spanking and to be sent to some kind of etiquette school; but still... What if I really was regressing into an adult sized baby? To the Amazons I was already a baby sized adult. What if the madness of Amazons... wasn’t? What if I was the one going mad? What if at least some Littles; Littles like Ivy, or Amy, or even Chaz; did start to have their biology turn on them and their brain chemistry alter to simulate what to the Amazons was no older than two? What if I was one of those Littles? It was absurd. And yet... Loud, girlish squeals and giggles made their way back to my ears. The resultant sigh was a low growl of frustration and exasperation. My life had metamorphosed from a lifelong physical crisis to a series of existential ones. Not exactly a trade up. Speaking of existential crises, I relaxed my bladder and wet myself then and there. Outside of my crib in the middle of the night, pissing myself while alone was the closest I felt I was going to get to privacy. To wet in privacy or wet in front of others; that was the only question I was allowed to ask. I felt the wetness be quickly wicked away from my skin and my bladder sing out in pleasure and relief while my penis, stupid thing that it was, smiled at the fresh warmth; a localized and very intimate shower and sponge bath. It felt awful to my brain; but acceptable to my body. How long before brain and body were more in sync? Quietly, I didn’t like the odds of my body rejecting what was forced on it more than my mind coming to accept it. I opened my eyes and watched the wet patch start to form on the front of the diaper; right below the landing zone; just beneath the smiling rainbow colored monkeys holding their balloons. I felt and saw the plastic wrinkle and distort slightly as the core absorbed my waste and the pulp bulged and expanded in places and bunched up in others. It was subtle, to be sure, but I could tell. At a glance, it would look like nothing. If there was even a single layer of clothing to cover the padding, it would be almost impossible to tell. Wet enough to swell slightly, not nearly enough to sag or droop. Most things that an Amazon would dress me in wouldn’t even conceal the dry bulk of the diaper; surely they wouldn’t notice the slightest increase in mass. Could real babies tell? Would knowing make me feel any better? Heavy footsteps signaled Janet’s return. Her eyes still had the same quiet crazy as they had moments before, an addict swimming in the drug of their choice. The giant beside her had a different, more familiar glint in her face- a junkie who hadn’t gotten her fix: Raine Forrest eyes. It wasn’t Raine Forrest beside Janet, however. Seeing the school receptionist just then would have caused me to upchuck the morning’s cereal. Only thing worse might have been Brollish...or Beouf (but for completely different reasons). As near as I can tell, the ideal aesthetic of Amazon Beauty (for women anyways) revolves around an exaggerated form of motherhood. Big breasts, but bigger hips. I’d later learn that Amazon women were just as likely to pad their hips as much as their bras. Hair is often grown long, but can be tied back and worn in a bun or a ponytail to look sporty or professional, or let down and worn big. The woman that walked in with Janet did not fit that mold. Almost no hips. Small breasts (for an Amazon, still bigger than my face), short cropped hair; super skinny jeans and a T-shirt. An Amazonian tomboy. A rare sight indeed. Only Brollish looked quite so skinny and that’s because Brollish was a skeleton wearing someone else’s skin held together in a pantsuit. If some of the more wingnut conspiracy theories on MistuhGwiffin.web held any water, this new addition might have been the mythical Little hit with a growth ray. Back in highschool and college, lots of Little girls would dress like this; some would say daring the giants to dress them up in pink and lavender frills. It’s what Cassie looked like when we first met… Being less than perfectly Mommy Femme Shiek, didn’t make the newcomer any less baby crazy. “AWWWWWWW!” the stranger squealed. “He’s even cuter in person!” Before I had a chance to react, I was overshadowed, scooped up and hugged just a bit too hard. “JANET?!” “Jessica!” Janet’s rebuke didn’t sound quite so forceful; there was more than a hint of laughter in her tone. “You’re scaring him! Stranger danger!” Instead of being put down, I was handed off to Janet. “Oh, my bad! Poor thing!” Now forced at eye level with her, the strange Amazon waved at me; all wrist. “Hi! I’m Jessica! Your Mommy’s been friends with me for a long long time!” I bit down on my tongue as the conversation, and me, moved back to the sofa; the two Amazons on the cushions and me on Janet’s lap. “Hi.” I crossed my arms over my chest. Janet wrapped an arm around my belly button. “You can call me Auntie Jessica,” the new woman said. She looked over my head and back up to Janet. “If that’s okay, I mean.” “I don’t mind it,” Janet said. “You’re like a sister to me.” “Why yes Clark, you can call this someone Auntie if you’re comfortable with it,” said no one. “I’m sorry, I hugged you without asking first, that must have been scary.” Jessica said back to me. Her voice was more measured and high pitched than when she was talking to Janet. Typical. “It’s just like I already feel like I know you. Your Mommy has already told me so much about you these last few months.” My face turned to stone. “Janet hasn’t told me a thing about you.” Another stray puzzle piece clicked into place. “Months?” Janet cleared her throat. I got the hint. Jessica didn’t. “Yeah. You’re the ex-teacher, right?” The “ex” was a punch straight down into my gullet. She looked at Janet. “He’s still calling you by your first name?” “It’s something we’re working on…” Janet said. “He was calling me Mommy just a few minutes before you came. Drank his ba-ba all up, too.” I squished a little bit as she bounced me slightly on her lap. My ex-friend had been telling the truth of course. Thrice in as many days I’d manipulated her by pushing the Mommy button (with varying degrees of success). Right now, then? In front of this stranger whom my former co-worker had apparently told so much about me; she was Janet. My pride, weak as it was, still surged and receded like waves on a beach. The fact of trauma is that no one recovers in one fell swoop. No one breaks all at once, either. In those early days I was breaking and recovering in bits and pieces and in different places simultaneously. A cut would open up on my soul here, while my psyche was still knitting itself up there, just before the stitches on my identity ripped open but after the scars on my ego had calcified. “Jaaaaaaanet…!” I whined, and caught Janet’s friend casting her a slightly dubious look. Janet stopped bouncing me. I didn’t need to see her face to feel the subtle shifts in her body. Embarrassment. Disappointment A nasty impulse jiggled around in my brain. I remembered another safe old cartoon I’d watched in my actual childhood. One about an amazing singing and dancing frog with a hat and cane that would only ribbit when anyone but its owner was around. I could be that frog; call my captor “Mommy” only when we were alone or around inconsequential folks. I’d had plenty of bratty pre-schoolers whose parents insisted that their monsters were cherubs at home. It might be karmic justice to put Janet through the same experience. She wanted to be a mother, after all. Or maybe that was the mutating brain chemistry of a not-quite fictional maturity condition justifying infantile impulses. Shit. This had to be how mindfucking and going native started… As I contemplated my own mind, the two giants started talking over me. I kept quiet, pretending to watch another episode of Muffet Littles but really just staring into the middle distance; even though the blasted cartoon was still next level messing with my mind. If I couldn’t trust the narrative of my own life, what could I trust? “Let me guess,” Jessica said, “old guest room is now a nursery?” “Yup!” Janet chirped. “Had to get it repainted, but it’s perfect. Just need more clothes.” Jessica didn’t know I was watching her watch me. “I wouldn’t worry about that for long.” “Shhh…!” Another hint missed. Holy shit...Jessica was Janet’s Tracy. Jessica chuckled a bit. “Or just keep him naked. That’s fine too.” Okay, maybe not quite Tracy. “I’m glad you got to keep the house.” A more gentle hug from Janet pressed me. “Me too. The divorce lawyer said the secret vasectomy was the nail in the coffin.” She sounded sad again. Douchebag ex-husband who I’d never met had cheated on her, snipped himself, and strung her along promising a child even though his parental desires were zero. The old me hated him for hurting a friend. The current me hated him for giving her an excuse to adopt. “But,” Janet picked her tone up again, “it all worked out for the best.” I looked up at her, her face upside down to mine. “Didn’t it?” “Yes, Janet.” I lowered my eyes back to the middle distance. The kiss on the top of my head was definitely more for her than it was for me. Jessica laughed. “Oh fudge, he’s kind of sassy isn’t he?” “Yeah,” Janet agreed. “Always has been, I think.” Another peck on my head. “He’s just getting worse at hiding it!” Her voice went cutesy and squeaky. “That look!” Jessica squealed a bit. “So cuuuute! Such a sourpuss!” Apparently, I had more tells than I thought. “It’s just like those pictures of him in the tubby!” My face burned hot. On reflex I whipped my head around and shot her my most withering glare “No! That’s the look! So adorbs! He just needs bubbles in his hair.” It was my most withering glare...and I withered… It was then that I suspected that much of my intimidation factor had been more a courtesy of my station than any inherent quality of mine. That figured… “Does that mean you’re going to be opting out of game night?” Jessica asked, picking up her conversation. “Being a new Mommy and all?” “Game night?” I echoed up. They ignored me. “I don’t think so,” Janet said. “Though maybe we could relocate here for the next couple of sessions?” Game night. I knew what it was in concept. It was absurdly easy to figure out: Friends get together and play games. There was a shelf by the near wall that had several boxes of board games stacked up. I grimaced. Intellectually I knew about it. Emotionally, it felt almost alien to me. Ever since buying the house, most of Cassie’s and I’s nights were spent alone together. Our Little friends lived too far away to just casually drop by for parcheesi or whatever. Even a harmless round of checkers seemed dangerous after a certain age. In my experience, most adult Littles gathered and bitched about Amazons...usually with some heavy drinking. Amazons could play games though; their adulthood was never in question. Their leisure was never up for debate, while most of my adult life was structured around avoiding Amazons. Typical. “You’re not bringing him to the winery later this month, are you?” Jessica asked. “The bottling party wouldn’t be the same without you.” “Winery?” I asked. “You make your own wine?” Janet patted my head. “Clark, Grown-Ups are talking.” “Janet…” “It’s not that kind of bottle, hun,” Jessica teased. She returned her attention to her friend. “Do you need someone to watch? I wouldn’t mind.” Janet scoffed. “And miss out on tipsy-Jess?” Amazons got to drink AND play casual games? More simple proof that the world was not fair. “I want you to have a good time, too.” “Yeah, but I’d love to babysit.” My eyes widened “Babysi-?!” “Ooops!” Janet’s hands clapped lightly over my ears. They did nothing to muffle what she said. “He’s not quite comfortable with the b-a-b-y word, yet.” “Oops!” the lankier Amazon said. “I meant, I’d love to Littlesit.” I just stared. “Big boy sit?” “I’m an adult…” She smirked. “You’re wearing a diaper, hun.” “I’m potty trained!” So this is what a broken record felt like. Janet bounced me on her leg one more time. “You’re also wet. Do you want changed?” There was no good answer to that. I managed to wriggle down off her lap and slide down to the floor. I pointed a finger accusingly. “Because you won’t let me use the bathroom!” BOOM! CASE CLOSED! “You haven’t even asked me to use the potty.” My mouth went dry. Shit. Fuck. Oh shit! Oh fuck! Oh shit, oh fuck! My jaw all but kissed my neck. I hadn’t. But why would I? Why ask a question when you already know what the answer would be. I’d lost my ability to teacher stare, but Janet’s condescending smirk and challenging glare was still on point. It was the same matter-of-fact superiority that she’d coyly radiated when pointing out that I’d potty trained some of her students way back when. This must have been how they felt: Impotent, embarrassed and without retort or recourse. “Can I?” I asked, timidly. “Can I use the toilet...Janet?” The two Amazons exchanged brief looks. “Why would I, Clark? You’ve already shown that you need diapers. It’s on your I.E.P. You’ve been perfectly comfortable wearing a wet one until I brought it up.” She paused. “Do you want Mommy to change you?” Damn it. Right then I bet that she would have caved if I had called it a ‘potty’ and asked her as ‘Mommy’. She would have been tempted, anyways. No good answer to the changing question; it’s like “are you still beating your wife?”. Yes or no, didn’t matter. So I did the stupid thing. I said nothing and walked away to the other side of the room; my butt crinkling with every step and gravity just starting to make the wet Monkeez droop a bit in front. “That’s fine,” Janet called out after me. “You’re not that wet. You can wait a little while.” I harumphed and peed a bit more before sitting back down on the carpet. Might as well. The apple juice was already running its way through me. Stupid, typical Amazon bullshit. I wasn’t allowed to use the toilet because I’d wet my diaper and I was being forced to wet my diaper because one time I hadn’t made it to the toilet. It’s what I’d expected. It still hurt, though. I looked down at the diaper and poked at the spongey soaked front. How much had I peed? So much harder to tell after the first wetting. Dry to wet was an immediate contrast. After that, though, it might be like turning up the heat on a lobster pot. A few degrees here, a few degrees there, next thing you know you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve peed and are on the verge of leaking. Unpotty trained? Mind fucked? Gone Native? Maturosis? Just plain old broken down? I didn’t have any answers. I tried to bury my shame and my attention. I rolled over to my stomach and rested my chin in my hands; burying the front of my diaper in the carpet and my focus on the stupid fucking cartoon that was a mockery of my lost childhood. “Alien planet below! Prepare to land!” Baby (Little) Skooner said as the makeshift UFO skidded across the Muffet Nursery. The black and white stock footage of a B-Movie was still there representing the tyke’s imagination. Same exact bit. But when the footage resumed to animation, it was the same bastardized Little version instead of their baby counterparts. “Hmmm…” Little (Baby) Kremit said. “Looks like a friendly planet to me.” They weren’t kids playing pretend, anymore. They were adults acting like kids. They were a reflection of who I was trapped as; not as who I used to be. In a terribly poetic way, it made sense. The Muffet Babies of my youth was never quite a prequel beyond a few references in bygone television specials. They had different voice actors than the main puppeteers of the Muffets. Some characters, like Skeener, were never even made into proper puppets. They never had birthdays or talks of school. Just like Littles, the Muffet Babies were never allowed to grow-up. Maybe I had remembered wrong. Maybe they always were the Muffet Littles. It’s awful feeling like an unreliable narrator in your own story. I seethed and hid my face back in my hands. Half-listening and fuming and yes, pouting. The women on the couch continued gabbing and catching up like old friends. Due to distance, my own distractibility, and T.V. volume, I was only able to pick up bits of conversation here and there. Gardening. Horse Racing. Something called a cosset. Completely mundane stuff. Boring stuff. Normal stuff. So-called grown-ups talking about normal boring stuff while I tried to keep my mind stimulated and distracted. Damn. Might this become my new normal? I hoped not. I heard soft footsteps leave the room, but didn’t bother to look up. I felt more than saw Janet’s shadow hovering over me. I was all too aware as she hooked her fingers in the back of my diaper. So much for not checking me quite so often. I started to grumble “I didn’t shi-!” “Auntie Jessica’s just checkin’.” That wasn’t Janet. “TICKLE TIME!” Thin, bony fingers that were still so much bigger than my own dug into me at lightning speed. Into my ribs, under my armpits, into the side of my stomach. “NOOOOOOOOO-O-O-O-O!” My screams of protests came out as panicked laughter as her fingers worked me over, playing my sides like a keyboard in double time. “STAH-AH-AH-AH-AHP!” I contracted and convulsed on the floor as the giant pinned me down. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t BREATHE! She only needed one hand on my back to keep me still enough to torment. The only thing that matched my panicked, pained laughter was her own gleeful tittering. “Auntie’s gonna getcha! Auntie’s gonna getcha!” More soft footsteps on the carpet. “Jessica!” Janet sounded far more amused than upset. “What are you doing to my poor Little boy?” Kneeling on the carpet next to my prone and huffing body, Jessica stopped tickling me. “Just thought I’d help?” ”Help?” “Get all the pee-pee out before you change him.” I gulped. Did I pee again? It was difficult to know. “Changed?” I asked. “But I thought…you said…” Staying in the wet diaper had been a bad choice, but it was at least a choice I’d been allowed to make. Janet already had a fresh diaper and a pack wipes in one hand and a fresh bottle of juice in the other. “Company’s almost here.” “Company?” I got no answer. What I got was flipped over onto my back. I pointed up to the tomboy Amazon. “I thought she was-” “Sure you don’t wanna change him in his room?” Jessica interrupted. Janet opened up the wipes and started to unfold the new diaper. “It’s fine here,” Janet said. “I’ve been listening to some Little Voices podcasts.” “Added more to your playlist?” “Yeah. They say that changing in different places can help with adjustments. Some Littles struggling with Maturosis try to hold it in at first; pretend they’re still potty trained.” “Mmmm-hmmm…” It was practically an Amen. “Changing in different places and at different times helps ease things. If they can be changed anytime and anywhere, they won’t feel so bad about needing to go anytime and anywhere.” Translation: Desensitize Littles to getting stripped down and wiped anywhere so that they don’t try timing their bowel movements to coincide with a scheduled diaper change. Though damned if that wasn’t exactly what I was guilty of just the day before. “Some experts think it even helps prevent constipation.” I crossed my arms over my chest. Might as well get this over with… “Do you want Lion?” “No.” Jessica wondered, “Lion?” “I’ll show you later. It’s the cutest thing.” Jessica was still the one hovering closest to me. Just when Janet was starting to eyeball the tapes on my diaper, she spoke up. “Can I change him?” she asked. “For practice? Babysitting?” A thin smile, a deviously cocky one, blossomed. “Are you cosseting?” Janet asked. Jessica inched her thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe a little…” The two giggled like schoolgirls. Janet rolled her eyes good naturally. “Heh. Fine.” The tapes were loudly ripped off before Janet finished giving her consent. One of the few taboos I knew of among Amazons was stealing each other’s padded prisoners. It’s why positions such as daycare workers, positions like Beouf’s and Zoge’s were not-so-secretly coveted. Got to play with all the ‘babies’ all day and get paid for it; a teacher’s salary in Beouf’s case. Jessica and Janet must have been really close if she was already being allowed this ‘privilege’. I winced and grunted as the first flurry of baby wipes were rubbed on me. My junk was like a dish with a stubborn grease spot. “Not so hard,” Janet told her friend. “Be gentle.” Took the words right out of my mouth. Speaking of mouth. “Drink up, hon! Don’t want you getting dehydrated.” More apple juice was squirted into my mouth. Janet was using this opportunity to multitask. Clean up the bottom while filling up the top. The new diaper wouldn’t stay dry long if this kept up. That was kind of the point though, wasn’t it? “No powder?” Jessica asked, balling up the wet diaper and wipes right out from under me. Still holding the bottle in my mouth, Janet shook her head. “Don’t want any accidentally on the carpet.” Her mouth twitched. “Darn it. Should have gotten a stuffer, too. That way we could make it through the whole shebang without stopping for a change.” “Oh no,” Jessica slipped the replacement under me and started taping it up. “Mommy will have to change her Little boy...again. Not that. No. Next you’ll be telling us not to throw you into the briar patch.” “Point taken.” I gurgled and gargled behind the nipple. “Hull shhbbbng?” “You’ll see.” The complete stranger who’d just changed me winked. “Throw the diaper away…?” Her tone was friendly, mock begging for a favor. “You changed it, you toss it,” Janet said. “Can’t blame me for trying,” Janet stood with the old diaper, my old diaper, balled up in one hand. “Pail in the nursery?” Janet dared not take the bottle out of my mouth. “That or the trashcan in the kitchen. Either works. “Kay-kay.” Jessica went towards the back of the house, towards my cell; because of course she did. DING-DONG! “Company,” Janet said. She handed me the bottle and booped me on the nose. “You wait right here.” She went for the front door. “COMING!” Great. More company. I spat out the bottle and stood up. Who next? Her parents? Was I going to have to call them ‘Grampy’ and ‘Grammy’? The television went to commercial; a commercial that saved a piece of my sanity. “It was the day of the big game at Monkeez stadium” the bodiless narrator said. I looked at the T.V. I’d seen this commercial before. The camera cut to a tight shot of babies in the stands, playing the parts of fans. Something was different, though. There were more shots that weren’t in the cut I’d seen previously. In amongst the Amazon babies were Littles cheering right alongside them, all clad in nothing but Monkeez. And they were smiling and clapping and fumbling with their hands just as much. They were either completely mind fucked or acting the part. “But the star receiver couldn’t catch a pass,” the narrator said, just like before. Instead of a cute toddler being tossed foam footballs, the part of the star receiver in the plain white saggy Brand X diaper might have been in his early to mid twenties. “And no wonder, there was an offensive leak in his diaper!” “Here comes the coach with a new game plan. Monkeez Lil’ Steps Diapers, now with a more absorbent center, and Monkeez leg elastics to help eliminate gaps in the defense!” The ‘COACH’ bringing out the diapers was the same normal Amazon baby. “Same audio tracks,” I whispered to myself. That’s how they did it. “Different takes.” They filmed the same commercial twice and substituted in Little actors and extras. Just like with the Muffet Babies turning into the Muffet Littles. Same dialogue. Same audio. Different visuals. But why? On the commercial, the screen had gone to the computer generated diagram of the diaper’s features as before; including one that I’d taken for granted last time. Sizing. I looked down at the waistband of my new diaper. Though it was mostly covered by the tapes, I could still make out the size written down in a babyish star stencil. I was wearing a Monkeez size 9. Of course! A lightbulb exploded in my gray matter. “Monkeez is the only major diaper company that sizes for all babies,” Michelle had said months ago. Only then did I truly appreciate the implications. ALL BABIES. I wasn’t wearing a scaled up version of what Little children wore. I was wearing the exact same thing, just a different size! If Little children wore diapers sized starting at one, but Amazon children wore size eights and nines and tens, there was an implicit message. It was the same reason why Amazons still measured in pounds and feet. A unified system of measurement to psychologically favor the Amazons and how big they were. I wasn’t an adult being treated like a baby being put in the same size three and four diapers that Little babies were. I was the same baby as any other Amazon child; I was just done growing up. It’s why Janet didn’t seem to notice the difference at first between me describing Muffet Babies and Muffet Littles . It’s why Dr. Milton insisted that I was an ‘Adult Baby’. It’s why the stupid diaper commercial had a mix of actual Amazon children and babied Littles. As a culture, as a whole, they didn’t want to see the difference between their children and our adults. They’d blurred the line. Deep down, the Amazons weren’t just gaslighting us. They were gaslighting themselves too. I felt like Archimedes when he discovered the principle of displacement. I felt like Archimodes when he stumbled upon the principle of absorption. In that instant, I knew the truth. I wasn’t crazy. Not yet. “Okay team, let’s FIGHT! THOSE! LEAKS!” And I didn’t have Maturosis. Maturosis didn’t exist. It was a real EUREKA moment! I was feeling completely justified in my decades-long paranoia. “And it’s a touchdown!” The Little man spiked the football, just like his infant counterpart had.. “What a happy day for Monkeez fans.” I tossed my arms into the air, fists clenched in the victory of seeing through the bullshit. “YES!” My jubilation was cut short by peels of laughter and overcome by cooing. Voices. Lots of them. I whipped my head around away from the television. Filtering into Janet’s living room were faces, lots of them. Familiar ones. Faculty. Staff. Ex-Coworkers. Holding gift wrapped boxes, and wearing sickeningly adoring smiles. I was hairless from the neck down and naked save for the fresh diaper that’d just been taped onto me. And from their perspective, they’d just caught me cheering. Cheering at a fake touchdown in a Monkeez diaper commercial. This was not going to end well for me...

Dan and his men are in trouble and there is no signs of anything getting better any time soon. Following the announcement of a test Dan notices some strange things happening but feels helpless to get himself out of it. --- This story has been available on my Patreon page for the last week and with a $5 a month pledge you can see all my updates a week before anyone else. I post a 2,000+ word update every four or five days. For $10 a month you can get early access plus access to THIRTY-THREE stories that only my patrons get to see. If you are interested please consider giving my Patreon page a look https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- The first thing Dan became aware of was a pounding headache. The second thing was the noise, it didn’t sound like the common room but it didn’t sound like his cell either. Bravely trying to open his eyes Dan saw bright lights above him, he tried to cover his face but found his wrists strapped to something. He was lying in a bed with his arms and legs strapped to the metal frame. “W-Where am I?” Dan croaked out through a throat that felt like sandpaper. As his eyes adjusted Dan realised this wasn’t just an ordinary bed. The sides of the metal frame had thick bars that rose high above the mattress on all sides. Over the top and hanging from the ceiling was a brightly coloured mobile that was tinkling away quietly in the large room. It didn’t take Dan long to realise he was in a crib. Feeling was returning to Dan’s body slowly and he knew as soon as he could feel his waist that not only was he heavily diapered but the padding was well used. He shifted slightly and felt stickiness holding the diaper to his backside like glue. Dan didn’t know how long he had been lying there but from the state of his diaper he suspected it had been quite a while. Dan’s head flopped to one side and he saw a row of other cribs. Unlike the crib Dan was lying in all the others had their sides lowered and the other soldiers were playing on the floor. The scene made the Lieutenant shudder. From a cursory glance at the soldiers it seemed that all of them were completely gone mentally. “Dat’s mine!” Sergeant Davies yelled out as he snatched a toy helicopter from Private Longworth. Longworth burst into tears as the Sergeant started running around holding the toy in the air and making engine sound. They were all dressed in diapers and camouflage onesies, a mockery of their military backgrounds. Jones and Chamberlain were both building with large blocks on a table nearby. Chamberlain was sucking on a large pacifier that was clipped to his onesie and Jones was drinking from a bottle. The scariest part about all this was how happy the adult babies looked. Dan felt horror at the prospect of becoming like these people. He could feel fog in his brain, he knew he wasn’t far from losing his mind. Dan was trying his best to keep his emotions in control as he watched Sergeant Davies running around with his helicopter. The tall brutish man suddenly stopped and squatted in a way that Dan immediately recognised. The gruff man grunted and Dan could see the faraway look in his eyes as he helplessly filled his underpants like a baby. Dan turned his head to look away and found that Jones was standing right next to the crib and looking in. As Dan watched he saw liquid starting to run down the man’s legs and the bottom of his onesie was quickly turning a darker colour. His diaper was leaking as the young man wet himself like a toddler. Dan swallowed hard as he closed his eyes and tried to remember basic information. He tried to recall his address and his wife’s face but found the pictures in his head blurry, his memories and intelligence was slipping just like all these other grown men. There was no time any more, Dan had to get out of here before he ended up just like the others. “Jones, can you hear me?” Dan said quietly to the man next to the crib. Jones was looking down at the puddle forming around his feet but now looked up to see Dan’s imploring eyes. He nodded his head as the bottom of his onesie dripped on to the ever growing puddle. “Can you untie me?” Dan asked. He tried to keep his voice happy despite his horror at everything that was happening. “I dunno if I’m spos’ta.” Jones lisped childishly. “It’ll be OK.” Dan forced a smile across his face, “The doctors said I should get one of you to untie me when I wake up.” “I dunno.” Jones shrugged and looked like he was about to wonder away. He was eyeing some colouring books with interest. “If you undo this strap I can come play with you.” Dan said with faux cheerily. “Pway?” Jones seemed to be giving this some serious thought. Dan quickly nodded his head and hoped that the baby-brained man would do as he asked. He was sure if he stayed here another day he would end up just like them. He would rather be shot trying to escape then stay here like this. “Otay!” Jones suddenly said with a big smile curling his lips. Dan could barely believe his luck as Jones reached in with uncoordinated hands that looked sticky. He fiddled with one of the straps but seemed to get frustrated very quickly and Dan was scared he would get bored and walk away. “Just press that big button right there.” Dan said encouragingly as if talking to a child, “That’s it. Good boy!” The straps on Dan’s left arm suddenly slackened as the button was pressed and the Lieutenant wasted no time in reaching over and pressing the button on the strap holding his other arm down. His legs came next and very soon he was kneeling in his crib. His heavy diaper hung low between his legs. “Now just step on that lever.” Dan said as he reached through the bars and pointed down. Jones did what he was told and the side of the crib came rattling down allowing Dan to spring out on to the floor. He looked around again to assess the situation. The room was quite big but most of it’s space was occupied. The big cribs were against one wall and a changing table was against the opposite one. At the rear of the room were five highchairs and Dan shuddered when he saw his name stuck on one of them in brightly coloured stickers. The other wall was mostly bare except for the only door, there were no windows but cameras were in the corners of the room and looking down on the play area. Dan had to hope whoever was monitoring these robotic eyes wasn’t paying much attention. Dan’s plan was simple. He would pretend to play by the door in his soiled diaper, someone would have to come in soon to check and change the diapers. Dan had some blocks and he wanted to reach over as the door closed and use the block to keep it unlocked and then as soon as whoever came in wasn’t looking he would make a break for it. His chances were slim to none but it was the only shot he had left, if he ended up a drooly pseudo-infant he would never be able to escape and alert people as to what was going on. The wait was interminable and Dan carefully prepared himself for what felt like hours as he pretended to play. When he finally heard footsteps on the other side of the door he felt his heart rate double. This was it. The footsteps stopped just outside the door and Dan heard some beeps from what he guessed was a computerised locking system. There was a loud click and then a buzz as the door became unlocked. Dan tried to keep an eye on the door as he played and he saw it open up. It was Dr. Porter stepping inside and as she let the door go behind her Dan took his one and only opportunity. Before the doctor could see what he was doing he quickly picked up a large rectangular block and put it in the doorway against the frame. He watched with baited breath as the door swung closed, it seemed to take an age but it finally hit the block. To Dan’s intense delight the door remained ajar. “Hmm, it seems our intrepid Lieutenant got out of his crib.” Dr. Porter was looking down at Dan as he resumed playing, “But… you’re playing? Tell me, has the gas finally broken your resistance?” Dan looked up at the woman who had broken all of his men. He knew what he had to do to. As much as it sickened him to think about he had to make this evil doctor believe he was now nothing more than a baby. “Are you Mommy?” Dan asked in the highest and most childish voice he could manage, “I did a stinky in my diapie!” Dan tried not to let the humiliation and shame of what he was doing get to him. He reminded himself that this was all necessary to escape but it still felt like he was betraying himself. Even worse there was a part of his brain that liked it, the part corrupted by the gas seemed to want him to talk and act like a baby more. It wanted to give in and surrender to the infantilism that was poisoning his mind. He was having to work hard to keep the childish thoughts in a box. “Seems about right.” Dr. Porter snorted contemptuously, “You’ll be happy to know we have now refined the gas. One dose should reduce anyone to a baby now so your sacrifice was not in vain.” Dan tried to look as clueless as possible as the doctor stood up and started walking deeper into the room. He could barely breathe as the moment to act came to hand. He shifted his weight and climbed up to his knees, the diaper wrapped around his waist crinkled but remained pasted to his butt. Dan was soon on his feet and Dr. Porter was still walking deeper into the room. She seemed clueless as to what was going on behind her as Dan looked towards the door. There was no time for second thoughts. Dan took the two steps to the door very quickly and pulled the door open. He kicked the block out into the hallway where it clattered into the wall loudly. Looking out into the hallway Dan suddenly heard a noise from behind him, it was Dr. Porter wheeling around. Dan looked over his shoulder and wished he could capture the look of pure horror on the woman’s face, if he had the opportunity he would’ve stayed in that moment forever. “No!” Dr. Porter cried out, “Stop!” Dan had no intention of listening to the evil doctor and he quickly stepped out and closed the door behind him. Dr. Porter had sprinted back towards the door and reached it only as the door fully closed and locked. Dan could see Dr. Porter looking through the window at him with eyes almost as wide as her mouth. She almost imperceptibly shook her head in disbelief. Dan couldn’t savour the sight of the desperate woman for long, he knew this would be seen on cameras and people could be coming at any moment. “You can’t do this!” Dr. Porter’s voice was audible but muffled by the door between them. Dan could see her pulling on the handle to no effect. There was a computer next to the door and Dan noticed that Dr. Porter had left her key card in the slot. He saw a menu on the screen with a bunch of options, some looked very technical and he didn’t understand them but some of them seemed very simple. There was one that took his eye and caused a smile to break out across his face. Dan knew his soldiers were a lost cause thanks to the gas so he felt no hesitation as his finger moved up over the touchscreen to an option that was red and surrounded by warnings. “Initiate Gas” was sitting there and begging to be pressed. Dan who had never been malicious looked through the window at the increasingly desperate doctor and smiled evilly. It seemed to take Dr. Porter a second to realise what was happening. “No…” Dr. Porter sounded desperate. Her face was contorted with fear, “Please. Let’s talk about this…” Seeing the veneer of control disappearing from Dr. Porter made Dan feel amazing. The righteous vengeance flowed through Dan’s veins and he had to remind himself that time was of the essence. He pressed the button and immediately heard the speakers in the room crackle to life. “AB Gas deployment commencing.” Dr. Porter’s own voice read out as a recording through the speakers. Dan smiled wickedly at the irony. Dr. Porter spun around at the sound of her voice and looked up at the vent where she now knew gas was now coming in. Dan watched her as the realisation that she was about to be hit with the fully powered gas, he didn’t feel an ounce of remorse. As the doctor turned to face the window Dan simply waved at her. After everything she had done Dan was glad to see the terror in her face. Dan saw as Dr. Porter’s face seemed to slacken and her attempts to get out got weaker. Soon she was slumping down the door and on to the ground.

31 The toilet sat quietly in front of him, its lid open, like a gaping porcelain mouth just waiting for him to do his business. Adam waited, too. It'd been around 24 hours since he'd visited a toilet, and to be honest, the reunion was a little intimidating. He decided to take his time and let it come naturally, if the girls had to wait longer in the SUV so be it. They were on his terms now, he knew it, they knew it, and it was just a matter of exercising that power now. It was all too weird. The subsequent blackout. Waking up the pink bedroom, wearing his regular clothes, and in normal undies after a pair of days heading towards diapers. It all felt like he was sleepwalking, still deep within a dream. Probably because he couldn't recall anything after they started 'Katie's plan'. The one that involved a video and ‘complete baby mode’. She was kind enough to help him fill in the blanks after she woke him up and pulled him out of the pink bed. That’s where they took him after he passed out. Katie informed him that in the moment of truth, his eyes went all glowy, and he probably couldn’t remember the rest. That’s the way that the Entity worked, through gaslighting and memory manipulation. Also, Katie explained how it all worked perfectly, how he was an absolute perfect baby, and that she showed them the video and they all turned back to normal. A perfect ending. That freaking easy. And it made him feel uneasy. Especially the way she smiled after he told her everything he could about the 'dream girl' in the pink room, every freaking detail he could pull together from all of the strangeness. When he thought about it, Katie had a duplicitous smile, and she also came up with some weird rules. The most important being her warning against mentioning the Entity to anyone else. Especially to Charity, Marisa, and Mrs. Hartmann, or else they could get 're-infected'. Those were her words, and not his. His head rang like a bell. Like it was emptied of something and filled with something else. A something that he couldn't feel or touch, just experience. He didn't know it, but Adam was already beginning to feel the events of the weekend sofly fading away, like a handwritten love letter left in the rain, until it became blotchy and subject to changing interpretations. He studied the bathroom with a new pair of eyes. The variety of experiences here, the one with Katie and the diaper, the one with Marisa and the spanking, and the first grape candy scented bubble bath he received from Katie after he fell into the mud. All of which was carefully planned at his expense. Now that things had calmed down more than a bit, Adam had already started reflecting on the events of the weekend, recalling winks and nods between the conspirators, the way they all did their part in his betrayal. Regression is just the best. Those words belonged to creepy Diane, still out there under the influence, calling the shots at the baby store from hell. The words made him wonder just how much of the events over the weekend came from the cruelty of the three girls or the Entity from 'out of town'. He probably would never know, and if there even was a difference, things probably wouldn't have turned out too much different than they did. He felt the need coming, Adam freely peed into the potty. It was exorcising his own demons in a way. He was still potty trained, the damage from this point would only be psychological, one could only hope. He finished up, gave himself a little wiggle, zipped up his pants. Adam looked at his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands, fully expecting to see blue eyes, or red eyes, or any color eyes but his normal ones. But it was over, like it never even happened. “I’m proud of you, Adam. It wasn’t easy, I thought for sure that you were a goner, but you did good.” Adam choked when he recognized the voice, and quickly turned to see Princess Tinkles in the doorway. This time she was in a navy blue dress, like something from the Victorian era, when petticoats were a thing. A huge blue lacy bow tied her blondish hair into a drawn out ponytail. A tiny hint of a cloth diaper snuck out beneath the doily inspired underskirt. Almost as if it was designed to be that way on purpose. He shot an accusatory finger her way, shooting water droplets into the air. “You’re going to have to explain just who you are and what you’re doing here.” The girl curtsied, her tiny little hands pulled her dress to her sides. “I’m the forever baby, the one that stays in diapers, missed by my mommies and daddies. The one that hides alone in her room. My box. My tiny Cube.” He asked, “Do you have a name?” “Adam, I don’t have a name because I’m not exactly a person. I’m more of a feeling, an idea in corporeal form. You’re only seeing what I represent with human eyes, understanding with a human brain, trying to comprehend with your human experience. I’m what you think a toddler should look like.” “You should still have a name,” Adam countered. The toddler thought about it for a moment. “I believe that you think I’m something of a Princess Tinkles," she answered. "I’m not sure that I like that name.” “Whatever, Tinks.” The girl looked unbearably cute even when she was angry. Adam didn’t come up here for the existential lecture about human experience, he came up here to pee. Looks like he got to do both. He dried his hands on a nearby towel. “Are you here to play dress up dollies again?” "No. Maybe another time. You still need to make changes, don’t you?” Adam hesitated. Looked himself over again in the mirror, then nodded. “You can’t stay a kid forever, Adam. Trust me on this one, it’s not nearly as fun as you think.” “I can imagine,” Adam started, “I’m pretty sure I still have a diaper rash.” The guru girl giggled behind the tiniest of white gloves brought to her mouth. “Go and grow up, stand for something, your life is waiting for you.” “Thank you, if it wasn’t for advice about the mirrors and photographs, I wouldn't have been able to destroy them." Princess Tinkles shook her head from side to side, like she was saying 'no' to a spoonful of mashed peas. “They’re not destroyed, they’re just convinced to leave you alone.” Big bad Diane came to mind again, and how her influence had seemingly infinite reach. He could avoid that baby store for the rest of his life, but he wasn’t sure if that would be enough, she didn’t seem like the type to just ‘let things go’. There was something else, however. Just on the edge of his mind, he couldn't quite reach it, even with a ladder. It was there, and Adam knew it. Adam wondered aloud, “I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something important.” “Let me be the first to remind you, the less you know, the safer you are.” Adam scratched his head. “I don’t know about that.” “Don’t worry, your memory is already starting to decay. Soon, I'll be gone. I just wanted to say goodbye before I faded away.” Adam blinked. And everything about Princess Tinkles was gone. After a mindless few seconds, he finished drying his hands on a towel, before shaking his head. He could’ve sworn he saw something in the doorway, but when he looked up, nothing was there. He also thought he heard the voice of a little girl. Maybe this place was haunted? He carried that frightening thought to the red SUV. All of the girls were already in the car, leaving him an empty seat. One that was noticeably free from a princess pink booster. Slowly and surely, the supernatural was sucked out of his story. The only thing left was a prank-filled weekend, where the girls put him in diapers, made him mess them, and he wore a Pikachu onesie. That’s what stood out from the brain fog, those were the facts on which he could cling. ........ The way home wasn't cathartic, exactly the opposite. Adam could barely keep still, the quiet in the car hurt his ears, it grabbed and pulled at him to say something. There were nagging questions that needed answers, even internally he didn't have a clue to what had happened. However, those thoughts are like thorns or splinters, they can hardly be ignored once they've pierced the skin. It was digging at him. The car full of girls who picked on him, the feeling of being a victim to something he couldn't fully remember. Still, there were those girls. Right in front of him. The whole world revolves around that unanswered question: Why? Why did this weekend happen? Not what or how, those were lost causes by this point. Maybe if he figured that out, he'd pick up the parts he was missing. Could it all be blamed on the E-? He couldn't remember the word, it couldn't be finished in his mind, and somehow he knew it couldn't be pushed through his lips. It stood for something bad. Now, it was gone. Again, there were those girls. Right in front of him. He had to get answers, and they were trapped in the car with him this time around. Marisa turned around from the passenger seat. “Adam, I’m sorry about what happened.” Charity relayed the same message, shaking his thigh with one of her hands. "Yeah, I'm sorry kiddo." In the driver seat, Mrs. Hartmann looked already in denial about her role in the elaborate prank. He guessed that kind of immediate repression came with a healthy dose of narcissism. Katie said nothing. Staring out the window with a forlorn expression on her face, concentrating on the trees and distant skyline. She was always weird and quiet, but she put an end to all of the bullying. Adam somehow knew this, but it was like a movie he'd seen before, but not remember how it went. His brain told him a story, but it felt like a lucid dream or foggy memory. “Thanks for the half-hearted apology,” Adam growled. “What else could we do?" Marisa replied. "Things got weird, Adam. That’s not our fault.” Things got weird, Adam. What things did she remember that he couldn't? It didn't matter. Anger took over the wheel now, he'd let it drive him to wherever it wanted to go. “Not your fault?!” Adam fumed. “This is all your fault, don’t try weaseling out of that fact.” The car got quiet again, he stared at the empty countryside as his rage boiled over. Time to make changes, time to stand up for himself. He thought about the steel inside of him, the part of him that kept him from being a toy. The coiled spring. The bubbling resolve. Fake things that defined him on the inside. He was done being a victim. He didn’t need sunlight, he was sunlight. These three girls and clueless mom made him suffer for being weak. He loudly cleared his throat and began to finish this business. "The problem is that life is too easy for girls like you. It's easy being pretty and popular, it comes naturally, like breathing or something." "Here we freaking go," Charity groaned. "That's not the case," Marisa argued, "and you know that you're oversimplifying all of this." Adam leaned forward towards the front of the car and directed his venom at Marisa. "Did they even have to count the votes for homecoming queen? It was so much of a foregone conclusion that all of the suspense was sucked away until it wasn't even a thing anymore.” Marisa quietly scoffed from the passenger seat, but Adam sat taller behind her, just getting started. “You're always the star of the show, the lead in every play, and you hit every note perfectly when you sing. You're always pretty, even when you're not. Why can't you see that you're not like other girls? You know, the ones who wish that they were you, and all you do with your lucky life is pick on a guy like me. What does that say about you as a person?" There was no answer. Adam peered around the back of the front seat, and could see her shoulders softly shaking. Was she crying? Good. Great even. She deserved to feel worse. It felt good to strike back at them. Charity grabbed at his shoulder. "You don't have to be so rude, Adam." "Yeah, I do,” Adam snapped as he ripped her hand away, “and don't get me started with you." "Start with me, I don't give a shit what you think." The cheerleader braced herself as she crossed her arms, he could see the vulnerability through the 'tough girl' persona. He'd strike it with everything he could, make her hurt just like she made him hurt. "You see, that's where you're wrong," Adam started in on the blonde bimbo. "You do 'give a shit' about what everyone thinks, that's why you are the way you are. You pretend that you are past other people's opinions, that you're so bored with everything. Sex is so easy for you. That's not the case for everyone. You should hear the way you're talked about in the hall —" "I do hear everything," Charity interrupted, "but I don't care, they're all jealous of me." He waved a finger in her face. "And you keep lying to yourself. It's alright to lie to other people, you do it all the time. Just go with the flow, whatever happens, happens. You use people, Charity. You need everyone to become the mirror that tells you that you're pretty, that you're wanted, or needed; because you feel so incredibly ugly on the inside. If we were being honest, we wouldn't envy you, we would pity you. You're empty without desire, that's probably the reason why you are the way you are. You need idiots like Jeremy to stare at your tits to feel alive." Charity reared back and slapped him across the face, but Adam didn’t flinch. He let the pain flare as he stared the cheerleader down. Every part of him felt on fire, his skin danced and his eyes burned. She crumpled like a coke can right in front of him, wrapping her arms around her knees before turning towards Katie in defeat. As far as Katie went, the honor student just watched his ranting with a calm expression on her face. He’d go after her, too. It felt good to stand up for himself. Like running free in an open field, not daring to think about the consequences of his words that would become land mines beneath his feet. Adam spun his hatred her way like a flaming frisbee. “Katie, you're at fault, too. The whole reason you're here is that you want to fit in with these other girls, despite knowing that they were up to no good, knowing that they planned on mistreating me. None of this would have happened if you didn't go along with the bullying. Katie, it doesn’t take straight A’s to know that." “Careful, Adam.” Katie warned him with her dark eyes flashing. However, Adam wasn't careful. "You can't blame everything on the E-, the E-." Despite all of his anger and rage, he couldn't finish saying something. That something important that couldn't cross his lips got stuck in his throat, making him literally choke on his own words. He struggled for a couple of seconds, making a gurgling sound as he tried to pry it free with his hands. "Are you having a hard time saying something, Adam?" Katie leaned forward around Charity. Oh, Jeez. She looked really scary for some reason. Katie asked, "Do you need help using your words?" That's ridiculous. He could use whatever words he wanted, all except that one. He didn't remember it anyways, but that wasn't important. His anger didn't need to figure out what happened, it only needed to get even. It was no big deal that he couldn’t fully remember the crimes committed against them; they were all guilty because they picked on him. That was for certain, the bits and pieces he could pull together told him that much. They probably remembered the same. He coughed a couple of times as he recovered. Luckily, anger was still driving him on autopilot across the finish line. "You guys treated me like an object! I was a doll to you, a joke, at best a harmless prank! You didn't need to come ruin me like you did, but you were too pretty, too sexy, too smart to leave me alone. Now that you've done your damage, you want to pretend that this didn't happen, or weren’t the cause for this nightmare. It's all your fault! I hate you for what you did!" Mrs. Hartmann shouted, "You can stop now! You made your point!" The whole car swerved out of its comfort zone. Which always happens when anger takes the wheel. Adam would let it keep driving as long as he could, the heat in his chest burst, he was seeing red. "You’re far from perfect yourself, Lindsey! You only show up when it suits you. You don't get to be the cool mom, hot mom, and honest mom." "What are you even saying?" Marisa asked, sounding just as dumbfounded as her mom looked in the rear view mirror. "I'm saying that I'm mad at the way you guys treated me." "Fine. We get it. Shut up." Charity mumbled around her fingers as she chewed her nails. They finished the long as hell car ride in silence. All the while, Adam wondered if he did the right thing by lashing out. ...... A few hours later, the car pulled in front of his house. It looked like most houses in Lovington, white picket fence, tiny yard, two stories of the American dream wrapped up in white washed planks and olive green window dressing. Without another word, he grabbed his bag, left the SUV and marched inside, still shaking from the flood of endorphins that stuck around after he stood up for himself. He opened the door and stood just inside his home. Adam felt like he should have remembered something about this spot, something about his mom with strange eyes. A memory, or another nightmare, he couldn't tell the difference anymore. It was all so splotchy. However, there was a scar there, and scars came from scabs. Something about this moment wounded him, he couldn't quite put his finger on it, pinpoint the source of this feeling. He studied his mom in the kitchen as she cleaned dishes at the sink. She turned and smiled at him. "How was the lake house, honey?" “It was something,” Adam answered, “but nothing like I had expected." This would be something new, a baby step towards normalcy. He'd have to get used to deflecting questions like all of the other teenagers, his mom would never understand. Did he even understand what had happened that weekend? His tennis shoes scraped against the floor as he forced himself to shuffle free from his spot, no longer frozen to the floor, no longer petrified. Adam had to find a way to move forward. He was almost all the way upstairs when his mom called out to him. "Adam, some strange woman came by earlier today to ask about you. Do you know any Diane?" He froze on the stairs for a moment. Adam muttered, "No, it doesn't ring a bell." "How odd?" His mom came from the kitchen wiping her hands dry with a checkered towel. "She was pretty insistent on knowing you, are you sure you don't remember anything about Diane? I think she worked at some kind of baby store, she mentioned something about a discount for my new baby. I told her she must have gotten the wrong house, there's no babies here. Not anymore." "Sorry, mom. I don't know anything about that." And he was telling the truth. The shower always helped him think, re-evaluate every step he took, helped him imagine the steps he didn't take, or the ones that would come from an infinite number of improbable futures. He won arguments that never happened, pretended to meet people too famous for the likes of him, the impossible became possible in his active imagination. He normally stood in quiet reflection, a cleansing nirvana, and felt the water fall down his neck and back, letting it soak through him. Sometimes he thought to himself. Sometimes he sang. Sometimes he got shampoo in his eyes. This time Adam cradled his knees to his chest on the floor, just outside the reach of the warm water, but it still splashed callously onto his face. His skin was raw from all of the scrubbing he’d done, but he still felt dirty on the inside, the part where the soap couldn’t clean. That's why he was crying, he told himself. It wasn't because he was bullied all weekend by popular girls, or the fact he couldn't remember something super important, or the fact that he 'told off' those girls in the car without thinking about the repercussions. Girls like Marisa and Charity wouldn't sit idle while a loser like him got the upper hand. There would be a reprisal, he was sure of it. Why couldn't he figure out the weekend? It just slipped away like sand from an open palm. There were diapers, truth or dare, somehow Mrs. Hartmann showed up. With every minute that passed, the more the puzzle became undone. Important pieces were pulled free, and put back into the box, leaving a picture more resembling swiss cheese than the truth. All Adam knew was that he needed to make changes and stand up for himself. That's why he was a victim, not some intercosmic assault on reality. Changes would start with his room. He dried his eyes with the same towel he used to dry the rest of himself, and he managed to find a shirt without any Pokemon, a pair of shorts, and a clean pair of boxer briefs. That was easy, he was now Poke-free. The posters on the wall were a different story. Stylized pictures of Bulbasaur, Charizard, MewTwo were relics of a past that had no future. Same could be said about his toys and action figures, or his awesome card collection neatly organized in a large binder. He went to task removing them from his life, making his room resemble how he felt on the inside: empty, barren, void of feeling and personality. It wasn't like he just ripped things from the wall, he softly rolled the posters, taking heed to their previous importance, but understanding how they were a closed chapter. His collection of cards would now sit quietly in their new home on a forgotten upper shelf in the closet, the action figures properly boxed and labeled, a 50/50 chance it would end up in the attic or given away. He had just finished and begun to appreciate the changes when his mom came in wearing disbelief like a Halloween mask. "Adam, what have you done to your room?" "I felt like there needed to be changes, you know, to avoid needing changes." Adam grimaced, because that didn't make any sense to him at all. However, his mom seemed to brush it off, and gave him a special mommy smile that made him feel warm inside. "You're growing up so fast now. It's hard to believe that you're a grown up, seeing this room without all of that childish stuff on the wall only reminds me of how little time we have left together. We’ve got to talk about your plans for next year, about getting you out of the house more, and away from your boring, old mom.” “Mom, you’re not boring or old.” His mom melted from the cheesy compliment. “You're so sweet, Adam. I’m so proud of you. I just wish your father was still here to see how you’ve grown into a fine young man.” Yes, Adam knew all about how wounds become scabs and scabs become scars. During that very touching moment, the first message chimed on his phone, and Adam ignored the notification chime as he hugged his mom. He still got those hugs at eighteen. After his mom left his room, he checked his phone to see what he missed. A message from Marisa Hartmann, posted on the school-wide thread. Even the tiny schools like Lovington High School had an online forum in the way of text messages, pictures and memes, where all was shared between all students. It was a place where the outsiders could enviously watch the cool kids, and the cool kids could show off what the losers were missing. It was a home for party pictures, test answers, cruel jokes about teachers, and it had a penchant for rumors. Adam knew just what Marisa had to say about him: Diapers. It didn’t need to say anything else. Land mine. He could try to brush it off as a cruel rumor, they wouldn’t believe the most popular girl in school, would they? Not unless someone corroborated her story. Ding! Another notification showed up on his screen. This time the message came from Charity Brown. He didn’t need to check that one either. Ding! Ding! Ding! One message after another, from more popular kids. Probably their reaction to what the girls said about him. There was no use seeing those either. Adam slumped down the closest wall, his head hung low between his knees. Why did he have to be so stupid? It wasn’t fair. He could take short, or childish, but at least give him the intelligence to know better than to start a flame war with the homecoming queen. Ding! Ding! Brrr! Brrr! Switching to silent did little to stop the onslaught. He shook it off, did his best to ignore it. Still, it ate at him. He tried to recall what else they could say. Pink pull-ups, pink pacifier, wet sailor suit, stuffed unicorn, pooping and pooping again. Oh, jeez. They even had a video at their disposal, why didn’t he ask Katie to delete the stupid thing? They wouldn’t share that lovely embarrassing moment with everyone in the school, right? It didn’t matter now. ‘Go with the flow’ and whatnot, Adam couldn’t change the past.. Adam hopped on his bike, he had to move forward. More changes came from the mall. New clothes were a part of the ‘new’ Adam, he bought a pair of nondescript shirts with brand names and artistic designs. He saw rows upon rows of shorts, but decided upon an expensive pair of jeans. Next came a maturing haircut. Short on the sides, with a swooping thing across the forehead. It was something in style, he'd seen it at the school, and it was time for him to fit into the box like the rest of the teenagers. All of these changes were paid for by his 'Pokemon card fund', he didn't need the money for rare Charizards any longer. His phone buzzed the whole time he was getting a haircut, his pocket was shaking beneath the towel-like cloth draped over him. He squirmed in his seat, impatient and angry. But even he had to admit that he looked ‘kinda cool’ after seeing the finished product in the large mirror. The community college aged girl ran her fingers through his hair, not as a kid brother, but dare he say, sensually? It could’ve been just about getting a bigger tip, but his study in modern art told him something different. Especially in the way she softly but her lower lip as she massaged his scalp. Making changes was nice, a freeing feeling like the last day before summer. That feeling felt nice on the way home, and he completely forgot about his phone until he was alone in his room. He pulled it out of his pocket. 528 messages. Oh, jeez. That’s a lot for a school of 300 kids. Maybe they were going on about something other than him. No, even he wasn’t that stupid. He turned off his phone and tucked it away into his desk, removing himself from the thread before locking the stupid thing away. That night he wished for a meteor to take down all of Lovington, that way he wouldn’t have to go to school. Adam regretted the land mines he made with his words, for being a jerk to those girls, and wondered how bad it could actually get for him. Even as he closed his eyes, the phantom sounds still came from his dead phone. Ding! Ding! Ding!

This is so infinitely funny just too good and again my image comes into my head (no this time I do not spam it again just look further up for those who do not know what I mean) that will be so infinitely funny. I would love a scene with a stroller, but since Evie is programmed to protect Faith, I don't think Evie will do that to Faith.

Excellent chapter. When Evie started pursuing her I had the Terminator theme in my head. Imagine an army of Terminator nannies!

I agree with the above responses. Not only is it wrong in the first place, think. This was the very first time using this product. What if it hadn't lived up to what it's for? You would have leaked your mess into the public pool. That's just as bad as taking a $hit in the bathroom sink at school or on the floor in public restrooms. Not a responsible way to get your jollies by any means and not cool.

We have a theater where a movie costs $2 and they are current movies after their first run. So I wait a month or two after the movie first hits theaters. Big deal. I get to see it on a big screen and popcorn is $2 a bag. This is an older theater with a balcony, bigger than most of the 300 seat cinema complex theaters but not huge either. We used to have another in the area where it was $1 a ticket years ago for second run movies. Again, an older theater that they eventually turned into 3 small theaters in one by dividing the theater in two right down the middle and converting the upstairs into a third small theater. I agree. If I can't see a movie for $2 or $3 I'll just get the DVD later and then I can watch it as many times as I want. Lately there hasn't been anything I care to see in theaters. Last one I saw in a theater was the last Star Wars movie.

Personalias you really are a great writer, The way you flesh out characters and give them personality. Reading this latest chapter I could feel that Clark might be going insane from the baby treatment and how he started to question himself. And I really like how you make little early hints about stuff like the monkeez commercial and then drag it into the story again with it being a big important moment. Great job!!! ??

@Young1 haven’t worn for Christmas as of yet but that’s about to come.

Yea dude, not cool. What are you going to do next? Park your vehicle on a disabled parking spot to find out if, I don't know, it doesn't crack the pavement on it? Guess what: unless you drive a six ton truck, it probably won't. There's no need for you to test it.

That’s a bit unethical mate. Kinda screwed up

Gotta love the classics!

I miss the Bugs Bunny/Road Runner show. I used to watch hoping they'd show the AB cartoons.

Our theater has that. Soda, popcorn, and candy. They have different packages too, so there's something for everyone whether you're flying solo or going as a family.

Road Runner & Coyote Looney Tunes etc etc etc

Good for those single fathers! Im happy to read this!

I would think so if it came down to it i bet people stop using public bathrooms during covid

This is a sequel to "Fair is Fair" and "Special" Samantha hated being a Tweener sometimes. Tweeners: Caught between two worlds. To the Amazons, people like Samantha were children; not quite babies like Littles, but not true adults, either. More like Elementary or Middle Schoolers at best. Trustworthy, but not dependable, and certainly not too big to be cut down to size and put back in diapers. (Though as far as the crazy giants were concerned, anybody could be put back in diapers). To the Littles, the Tweeners were either allies of convenience or stooges to the giants. Sometimes allies. Sometimes adversaries. Never really friends; not in a way that mattered. Yeah, there was that shared bond of being terrified of the giant people, and there were no only children or atheists in foxholes. But if push came to shove, an Amazon would much prefer to baby a Little than to settle for a Tweener. Samantha would know. She had a few Little friends growing up in her neighborhood. When one of them got snatched up by a random Amazon, due to a failed pantie check, Samantha had been given a choice: Reach into the giant woman’s diaper bag like a good and responsible girl or get put back in diapers herself. After all, only babies tried to help other babies be naughty and wear big girl panties. Her Little friends had stopped talking to her after that. Screw them. They’d have done the same thing. Tweeners and Littles couldn’t really protect each other from the Amazons and the Amazons would never accept a Tweener as a “true adult” or whatever rationale they used to justify their behaviors. Too much Little in them to be respected by Amazons and too much Amazon in them to be loved by Littles. That’s what the rationale was anyway. Tweeners: The Third People. Born out of when Littles and Amazons bred with each other. Samantha didn’t completely buy that line, either. She’d never seen a pairing of Amazon and Little where the Little wasn’t cast as a baby. Her own parents and grandparents were Tweeners and all the Tweeners she knew had Tweener parents. She was aware of a few rich and famous pairings between an Amazon and a Tweener, but as far as she could tell, the status of the child was largely determined by the mother; either a tall-ish Tweener that was a head or two taller than their mother, or a short Amazon who was a head or two shorter. Little and Tweeners pairings were even rarer and Samantha had heard of it only in theory. The entire Littles community did its level best to isolate itself socially. An understandable reflex when it seemed that eight out of ten interactions with the taller folk resulted in firing from one’s job and permanent enrollment at a daycare somewhere. A Little and an Amazon though? In love? Boinking?: The physical mechanics of sex, pregnancy, and birth were both hilarious and horrifying. Samantha couldn’t picture that ending well. Pain and possibly death for the woman if Little, and just complete and utter lack of satisfaction if an Amazon with a much smaller lover. But that’s where Tweeners originated from. So said the Amazons, and the Amazons made the rules, including history. And according to the rules, the best and only way to survive as a Tweener was to throw the attention on someone else. Be the world’s middle child. Better to make the short ones envious and be overlooked by the big ones. Speaking of “big ones”... “Oh, I think you’re so much better like this, don’t you?” Two Amazons: Both in their forties at least were in the Ladies’ Restroom. The one currently speaking was in a gray pantsuit, her hair the kind of blonde that only came out of a bottle, and her graying eyebrows all but testified to it. Samantha had a decent eye for detail, and rarely forgot an Amazon’s face; mostly as a survival technique. This particular woman had never been in the shop before, Samantha was certain, but there was something familiar about her nonetheless...a family resemblance of sorts. The second woman, Samantha definitely remembered seeing. Only last time she was the one in the business suit. Now? Not so much. Nothing about her current state of dress could be considered business,or a suit. The light pink shirt looked like something that would be sold at a Mega-Mart; something that would be a casual sleep shirt or part of a lazy weekend wardrobe when you didn’t care what you looked like...the kind that people wore to places like Mega-Mart. Even with the Carpet Mice picture on the front, it wasn’t anything that might be considered scandalous for an Amazon to wear. It was something an Amazon Mom (or more likely Mommy) might wear when playing with their kids. The cartoon about adopted Littles and their bratty Tweener friend had been around long enough to be retro-chic and nostalgi However when taken in context with the rest of her outfit, that big baggy t-shirt was hands down the most grown-up thing the other Amazon was wearing. The white bonnet looked like something out of a costume shop, or maybe a period piece about Easter in the Old West. The pink tights being yanked down to her ankles might have come from a ballet shop. The matching plastic pants that followed were largely unnecessary save to add bulk and a bit of extra infantile aesthetic to the very soaked and very messy adult diaper that was just now showing itself. Amazons had yet to invent a pacifier that could effectively gag one of their own, but this one was doing its job well enough. The woman on the changing table looked like she was sucking on the dummy just to prevent herself from screaming; preserving her dignity and cementing her image as a giant toddler. The usual crowd of gawkers were already gathering in to watch the latest show. Ever since the owner, Mrs. Thompson, had taken a new managerial style, more and more locals were turning on each other. Were untaken Littles that scarce or were Amazons just that crazy? Maybe the big ones getting laid out on the changing table made the ones still standing feel superior or justified in how they treated the little ones? Both? Neither? It didn’t matter as long as Samantha wasn’t the one crinkling. Regardless of the reason, every time an Amazon was laid down, the looky loos would want to peek inside and casually have a look. Go figure. Four out of five times, the Amazon getting changed was Gwenny, Mrs. Thompson’s toy and pet project. Gwenny used to be Samantha’s bossy co-worker and a nightmare to deal with, (like most Amazons). Samantha helped take care of that. And for whatever reason, the stars aligned, and a switch flipped in either Gwenny’s and/or Mrs. Thompson’s brain. Gwenny was proof that Amazons were really no better than Littles...just not in a way that kept a single Little out of a crib. Lately though, more and more were following Mrs. Thompson’s lead. An office park was sending interns over for a more than healthy dose of public shaming and humiliation; a way to turn the pressure up and remind them that even they weren’t as grown-up as the people signing their paychecks. The lady who was about to get changed now didn’t look like a stereotypical intern, however. “Yes,” the more powerful, more adult woman cooed down. “I definitely think you look much better like this, Baby Tricia.” She lifted the other woman’s legs and gave her messy bottom a pat. “Muuuuuch better.” ‘Baby Tricia’ (though she was probably Patty or Patricia before now) just moaned pathetically and sucked on her pacifier, trying not to cry. Oooooh. Samantha knew that face. Last time, this woman had been changing diapers instead of wearing them. Oh, how the tables had turned. Samantha weaved in and out of the Amazon bodies, making sure to quietly say “Excuse me” just in case. The customers were too busy sipping on their lattes and/or watching the free show to take much notice of her. Sometimes it was good to be a Tweener. The woman in control ripped all four tapes off the diaper. “Poor Baby Tricia,” she taunted, “thought you could shape company policy, and you did. But you forgot something: Adults ask for permission. Children ask for forgiveness.” The babied woman lifted her legs so that her tormentor could wipe her bottom with baby wipes. “Yush Ma’am,” she mumbled around the pacifier. The Tweener had wormed her way to the front and walked into the bathroom. The words she was hearing sent a jolt straight to the pleasure centers of her brain. Littles in this situation were either completely overwhelmed, brain dead, or just plain dead inside. All Littles know the day they went to daycare might come. If they hadn’t been mentally broken, this was just what would be another day to them; no different than the children they were forced to pretend to be. Not interesting in the least. Samantha couldn’t bear to look at the odd Tweener that found themselves on a changing table. Just another failure. Someone who’d failed at the balancing act between Little and Amazon and tilted towards Little. A real Don’t Let This Happen To You. But Amazons? Ooooh, that was something special. To see the humiliation in their eyes. The realization that they were no better than any of the smaller folk. The cognitive dissonance and embarrassment when they’d been told that they’d objectively failed at the maturity and adulthood that was supposed to come so naturally to the giants. To see that realization and moment when they finally realized how badly they were screwed. Samantha just HAD to see that. Every time. A rare few, like Gwenny, found that they liked failing. To them, an Amazon’s absurdly high expectations were just.a matter of projection; a literal case of treating others like they wanted to be treated. Those rare few tended to be better people once their needs were met. Gwenny was infinitely more pleasant to have around the shop than ‘Gwendolyn’ had ever been. Most were just humiliated that they’d fallen so far and found themselves stuck in their own personal horror story. Samantha liked that, too. Oh how awful it was for them! At the very least, when (not if) they earned their big girl panties back, they’d be less brazen bullies. That bit of humility force fed to them was damn near intoxicating. And then there were the rare few...but more on that later… “You also forgot to do your research,” the woman doing the diapering mocked. “Like who’s daughter it was that you dragged down here.” Oh that! THAT! That’s where she knew this poor crazy bitch from. The lady on the changing table had brought over an intern to do the ol’ song and dance. There was even mention that this ritual might turn into a matter of disciplinary policy in the office across the way. Poor not-so-Little girl had been brought in and given nearly the full treatment. Becky, her name was. If the contours of the older woman’s face were any indicator, Baby Tricia had pissed off Rebeccah’s flesh and blood mother, and Mother Dearest must have outranked her to boot. Now the forty-something Amazon was getting a big heaping helping of her own medicine. Oh how the mighty had fallen! Samantha was almost drooling. She had to do something! She had to! She couldn’t resist. “Excuse me, Ma’am.” Samantha said, her voice amplified by the near empty bathroom. She stood up, back straight and head up with her arms folded behind her back. Perfectly at ease. Perfectly mature. “Can I offer some assistance?” The Amazon in charge looked at her own eye level first, then plummeted down to Samantha’s mid section, before adjusting to her eye level. A scowl turned to a smile turned to a quizzical look. That’s how it usually went with Amazons and Tweeners. “I’m quite capable of doing this myself, thank you young lady.” There was the slightest edge of ‘go away’ hinted at in there. Samantha should have gone away and scurried off. She had other matters to attend to, being manager and all. And yet… “Oh, I have no doubt about that, Ma’am. I just noticed the baby’s diaper and-” “Oh yes,” the woman interrupted. “Baby Tricia is such a stinky bum! Yes she is! Yes she is!” She leaned over and pinched the woman’s nose. “That’s why we came here. This is the only place that has a changing table that’ll fit her and I wouldn’t think of changing her on the dirty ol’ office floor!” The prone woman’s whole body started to turn pink. “But if we need to, I have no problem buying her a special changing mat!” Samantha caught a flare of surprise and panic in the babied woman’s eyes. Potty probation hadn’t been assured, yet. “Absolutely,” Samantha agreed. “I just noticed that the baby’s diaper seems a little...adult…?” The woman balled up the dirty diaper and tossed it in the trash. She rolled her eyes, good naturedly. “That’s because Tricia is a VERY big baby, and baby diapers don’t come in her size.” The Tweener looked down at the ground. “Not necessarily…” “What...?” Samantha bit her lip. “I might be able to get a diaper or two that would look positively adorable on her.” She was already starting to feel all tingly. “That way she could show off her diaper and no one would be confused about what she was. No need for tights and plastic pants.” Then she tacked on. “If you wanted of course.” A bemused smirk on the towering giant’s face. “And what would this cost me?” Nothing. Samantha wanted to say nothing. She’d do this kind of thing for free. But it wasn’t her diapers she was offering. “Three dollars..” she said. “A diaper, I mean.” The matron stroked her chin in thought. The punished middle manager shook her head ever so slightly, begging for mercy. The one in charge must have seen it. “Deal.” She reached into her purse and took out a ten. “Get me three and I’ll pay you once I’m done putting one on her.” “MmmmNo!” The cry rang out so that everyone could hear. Samantha had to bite down on her tongue to force herself not to shudder. It wasn’t a shudder of revulsion, either... “Hush, Tricia,” the woman replied. She started stripping the tights and plastic pants off the woman. “If you’re as big as you think you are, you’ll only need to wear one of them. Just no more accidents the rest of the day and you can use the big girl potty at work.” Samantha rushed out of the bathroom, the gears in her head being propelled with sparks of delight. “ Excuse me, pardon me, pardon me. Customer service.” She took a breath and looked at some of her Amazon co-workers. “Veronica, don’t forget to restock. Manny, I think you missed a spot on the floor.” In one breath she was scraping and bowing towards the customers who assumed she must not be in charge. In the next she was giving orders to co-workers to prevent them from gawking (or noticing what she was up to). All the while she was planning three steps ahead just so that she could indulge in a bit of scheming. Such was life. As a Tweener anyhow. “Gwenny,” Samantha said as she pulled aside the lowest ranking member of the staff. Gwenny technically didn’t get paid anymore. Gwenny wasn’t technically a grown-up anymore. An adult, yes. But the giant poofy diaper that was not at all covered up by her custom toddler dress and pastel socks that went, broadcast who she really was on the inside. Gwenny was the first. The first time that Samantha got to experience victory and control...even by proxy. Gwenny was proof that Amazons practiced what they preached; and that they weren’t nearly as high and mighty as they thought. “Yes, Samantha?” Gwenny asked. “Did I spill a drink again?” Her hand ran down her backside and between her legs briefly. “Or did I leak? Oh gosh, I’m sorry!” Gwenny also hadn’t used a toilet in a long time. She was almost incontinent these days. “Can you check me?” Under normal circumstances, Samantha would have taken the opportunity. She loved making the giant baby squirm and blush with the slightest pat to her bottom (and a very loud exclamation about the status of her diaper). Under normal circumstances, she didn’t have a bigger payoff waiting in the bathroom next to an impatient matriarch type. “You’re fine, Gwenny. Go get your diaper bag.” “But you said…?” “They’re not for you.” Samantha corrected. “But they’re too big for y..ow!” Samantha had to pinch Gwenny to quiet her down. Damn, she wished she was just a smidge taller. “A lady is changing her baby in the bathroom,” Gwenny said. Then she sprinkled a little white lie. “But she’s a new Mommy and the vending machine is broken.” “Oooooh!” Gwenny said. “That makes sense.” It did, didn’t it? “Okay. I’ll be a good helper!” Gwenny waddled over behind the counter and got out her diaper bag.. Mrs. Thompson did all of the changing where the overlarge baby was concerned, but Gwenny still kept her diaper bag behind the counters where the rest of the ladies kept their purses and such. Gwenny said it was because she liked pretending to be big while she was helping. Samantha suspected it was the owner reminding the rest of the staff that a similar fate might await them if they ever fell too far down the ladder. There were worse things than being fired… “Here you go, boss!” Gwenny said, picking up a folded diaper out of her bag and waving it around for all to see. Samantha walked up and took the diaper. “Two more, please,” she said. “For just in case.” “But…” Samantha rolled her eyes. “I’ll pay you ten whole dollars. You can buy yourself a dessert” Fuck it. This wasn’t about the money, anyways. Two more diapers found themselves stacked in Samantha’s arms. Kids. No matter how big or old, they were always bribable. “This better be worth it,” the head Amazon said. “I’m sure Tricia’s getting...oh!” She took the diapers from Samantha and examined them with the same intensity as an archeologist pouring over a mysterious artifact from the fabled lost city of Atlanta. Gwenny wasn’t just an Amazon on punishment. Mrs. Thompson had gone all out. Instead of an obvious medical diaper, something that might be used for the infirm but otherwise grown-up, Gwenny wore special all white padding. It was almost exactly like what babies and Littles wore. The stickers that Gwenny added on in her free time for decorations more than made up the difference. ‘Tricia’s’ boss/Mommy let out an audible gasp. “This! This! Oh yes!” She wasted no time in unfolding and fluffing the top diaper “Do you approve, Ma’am?” Samantha really needn’t have asked. She could tell. Samantha approved too. The look of humiliation and realization dawning on the other woman’s face. Realizing that she’d have to wear something that babyish. Without tights. Without any sort of covering or obfuscation. She’d just have to tug and tug and tug on the t-shirt, even though it wouldn’t come down nearly far enough. And she’d be constantly thinking about it with every bit of movement, hyper aware that at any moment someone could just come up and check her. She probably avoided that little indignity because of the multiple layers. Not anymore. Not as the new diaper was slid underneath her and she was powdered and oiled back up. Samantha wasn’t wearing a diaper, and she didn’t have to pee, but she was definitely feeling wet. Far too soon, Tricia was all taped up and back on her feet. Samantha wished she could have taken just a little bit longer. “Oh this is much better,” the head woman said. “My compliments to the Manager.” “Thank you very much.” Samantha replied. “I am the manager.” She pointed to the pin that the other woman clearly hadn’t bothered to read. “Oh that’s wonderful. Say thank you, Tricia.” “Fankyoo,” the humiliated giant blushed and mumbled past her pacifier. Oh how to make this moment last? Another bit of inspiration. “Would you like to give your baby a fresh bottle of milk?” Samantha asked. “Complimentary? As a treat?” The woman finished packing Tricia’s two remaining diapers away into her bag. “That sounds lovely.” She fished out a baby bottle that had only been filled with water. Clearly this punishment was straight amateur hour over at the office. Samantha took the bottle. “Wonderful! I’ll meet you and Baby Tricia,” just saying the name out loud gave the Tweener the best kind of chills. Another round “Excuse me’s” and a quick hassling of her fellows to do routine maintenance while filling out orders for the post lunch rush later, Samantha was behind the counter again. She dumped out the baby bottle and gave it a quick wipe with a clean towel. She reached into the tiny fridge and grabbed the milk. When the bottle was halfway full, Samantha’s eyes settled onto Gwenny’s special syrup...another infamous concoction...a little something something that did more than turn the milk chocolatey. A brief scene played back in Samantha’s eyes. “Why not chocolate milk?” Patricia/Baby Tricia had asked Mrs. Thompson when she’d been the one diapering instead of diapered. “Do you plan to keep...Rebeccah in diapers forever and make her your baby Becky?” Mrs. Thompson has asked. “That remains to be seen for the moment.” “Then whether or not she gets chocolate milk remains to be seen as well.” Then the promise that Patricia would get out of diapers as long as she didn’t have any more accidents… “Here’s your baby’s milk!” Samantha chirped. “I even made it chocolate for her!” “Oh chocolate! Babies loooove chocolate! Don’t they?” ‘Baby Tricia’, knew exactly what was in that bottle. “Please…” she whimpered. The pacifier fell directly out of her mouth. “Not that. Not the chocolate milk.” Oh how the tables had turned! It was delicious. Sweeter than chocolate! “That’s not very nice,” her supervisor said. Tears started rolling down Baby Tricia’s face as the nipple was placed between her lips and she began to obediently suckle. Maybe the relatively low dosage wouldn’t affect her compared to a Little. Maybe… Gwenny crinkled past Samantha and grabbed the next few drinks, reading out names and then toddling out the tables, squeaking and squealing when she was given a pat on the butt and a “good baby”. Then again... If this woman was as ‘nice’ as Mrs. Thompson was, maybe Baby Tricia would get a new job passing out mail or whatever someone with the body of a forty something and the authority of a two year old might be allowed to do. Samantha was handed a twenty. “For the diapers and a tip for going the extra mile.” She gave a winning smile and burned the image of the crying baby woman in her mind. With the pairs leaving, and the practical baby blood frenzy dying down with the rest of the customers, Samantha opened the cash register, broke the twenty, and gave Gwenny half. Fair was fair. She turned her half of the tip into ones and slunk off yet again to the ladies’ room. “I’m going on break,” she said to no one in particular. “Won’t be long.” Using the wooden triangle wedge, Samantha blocked the door from opening and checked all the stalls. She’d need privacy for this. First she put the money in the diapered vending machine and pressed the buttons at the top, for the Amazon/Adult diapers. Three of them. She’d decided to replace the ones she’d sold from Gwenny. Just in case Mrs. Thompson checked and realized the bag wasn’t as full as it should be. Chances are she wouldn’t notice, or care. She’d get the diapers later. Next, she unplugged the machine. It was “Out of Order”, officially. That was her backup excuse. Obviously that naughy baby Tricia had managed to unplug it to try and escape getting changed. That was Samantha’s alibi. Alibis could wait... It was a bit of a jump to get on the changing table, but nothing Samantha couldn’t handle. She felt the warmth of Baby Tricia still on the mat. Could still smell the traces of baby powder and oil that hadn’t quite made it into the diaper… This. This is where Amazon pride came to die. This is where they were crushed and made to feel as small and helpless and embarrassed as the rest of the world. Samantha laid back and snuck her hand down the front of her pants. This wouldn’t take long. Not with the memory so fresh in her head. Samantha almost wished she had a pacifier. It might be nice to have something to moan into while she masturbated. Instead, she exercised a modicum (but just am modicum) of self-control as she softly climbed into orgasm. Total elapsed time? Three minutes. Maybe four. Five by the time she washed her hands and snuck the plain medical diapers in with Gwenny’s remaining Amazon Baby ones. Such was life for a Tweener. Life was good. For her anyways. ********************************************************************************************** Just after closing time that night. Samantha sent everyone home and stayed behind to clean up. She just finished mopping the bathrooms. “You wanted to see me, Ma’am?” Samantha asked before she was all the way in Mrs. Thompson’s office. It was a strategy of sorts. Sooner asked. Sooner out. Seem both on the ball and appropriately nervous and subservient. Even with all of the progress she’d made over the last half a year, Samantha was still properly terrified of the shop’s owner. Amazons were predators. Crocodiles and sharks. Littles were their prey. They’d run and hide, but it was always a matter of ‘when’, not ‘if’. Samantha got as far as she had by being one of those tiny animals that formed a symbiotic relationship. The birds and fish that cleaned the bigger meaner animal’s teeth. The food chain’s middle management position. “Samantha,” Mrs. Thompson said without looking up. “Come in.” Samantha’s legs trembled. This time it was because of dread. She went in anyways. A sideways glance towards Gwenny off in the corner. She was playing with some dolls on a heavy blanket with plastic tea-cups. A chalkboard was propped up on the wall. It was just big enough to write the word ‘coffea’ on it. Which Gwenny did. Used her non-dominant hand, from the absolute atrocious handwriting. The big baby worked in a coffee shop for no pay, being constantly talked down to...and pretended to do the same thing while her Mommy finished working with the books. Gwenny either had no imagination or the absolute best imagination. Gwenny was a reminder that predators would kill and eat other predators. They’d also snap up the little birds and fish that cleaned their teeth if they were hungry enough or if the poor animals weren’t fast enough to avoid the jaws of death. Samantha’s sideways glance lingered, perhaps a moment too long. Gwenny’s diaper was flashing each and every way as she crawled around and bent and stood filling imaginary tea cups full with imaginary ‘coffea’. It looked clean enough, but it had the same colored stripe and ugly font that was common with adult diapers. Uh oh. The Tweener took a seat on the chair across from the owner’s desk. “Yes, Mrs. Thompson?” “What happened to Gwenny’s diapers?” Mrs. Thompson did not look up. Already? It hadn’t even been a full day. She’d been careful to replace them and put them near the back of the bag. Had Gwenny needed changing that badly? Samantha took a deep breath. No time to play dumb. That wasn’t the play here. “A customer n-n-needed one from the vending machine,” Samantha choked out. “And the vending machine was out of order.” Mrs. Thompson put down her pen, but still didn’t look directly at Samantha. She was an ambush predator lying in wait. “Go on.” “And they were in the middle of a change and so…” “So you decided to help an inferior Mommy who didn’t have the appropriate supplies for her child?” That was a question more loaded than the back of Gwenny’s pants just before lunch break. Most people would freeze here. Samantha wasn’t most people. “Only in the same way that I help an inferior forager who doesn’t have the appropriate supplies for their own coffee…?” She let the final inflection of a question creep in, just so that her retort wouldn’t be mistaken for defiance. “So you sold the diapers?” Mrs. Thompson looked up for the first time. “You didn’t just give them away?” “No ma’am. It was umm... transactional…?” “That’s right, Mommy.” Gwenny called over from her fake tea party. “I got ten whole dollars!” Samantha wanted to vomit. Instead she powered through. “And I made sure to replace them.” “Replace them, how?” Mrs. Thompsons said. Slowly, deliberately, she stood up. “I thought the vending machine in the restroom was broken?” “I fixed it…” Like a snake coiling around a juicy mouse, Mrs. Thompson circled around her desk. Like a mouse transfixed by the cobra, Samantha sat, frozen. “Fixed it and then unplugged it again? I found it unplugged. Funny, because if it was unplugged or broken as you said, you couldn’t have replaced Gwenny’s diapers.” Shit! She knew! Inside her own head Samantha screamed at herself. Stupid! Stupid! Stupid! Of course she knew! She should have either replaced OR unplugged the machine! Not both! She could have blamed incompetence on the customer and say that she didn’t know how to use the vending machine properly, and so Samantha expedited things along. Or she could have not replaced the diapers and pretended she didn’t know that the damn thing was unplugged. She would have gotten flack for it, probably a not-quite empty threat, but such an oversight could be overlooked. She was a Tweener. She had a bit of Little in here. These things could happen. It was almost like...almost like... “Really,” Mrs. Thompson said, “it’s almost like you wanted to get caught…” Giant hands began to reach down for the Tweener. “Men’s room.” The whisper came out of Samantha so fast and so quiet that Samantha barely heard it herself.. “I got those out of the machine in the men’s room. After the customer left. When there was no one else there.” They stopped. “Beg pardon?” The lie came so naturally to Samantha. “Replacement diapers. Men’s room. I paid Gwenny for her diapers. Gave some to the customer, and then replaced them with some from the men’s room machine when no one was in there.” It was amazing what a natural shot of adrenaline could do for the brain. “I didn’t think to see if the ladies’ room was plugged in. I didn’t want to question the customer!” The men’s room saw just about as much foot traffic as the ladies’ room, but not nearly as much as the new changing traffic. Daddies would bring in their Little boys and Little girls, sure enough, but the vending machine was about as unused as ever. Diaper vendors weren’t supposed to see as much use in general. Most parents had a fully stocked bag, with the machine in case of unexpected blowouts and such. But with the uptick Amazon on Amazon punishment, most weren’t prepping far enough ahead to have a fully stocked bag. And for whatever reason, the ones doing the diapering were disproportionately women. The men’s changing vendor could be full to bursting or derelict. Samantha was gambling that not even Mrs. Thompson knew. “Clever girl.” Mrs. Thompson said. “Almost too clever.” She shouldn’t have, she knew, but the Tweener felt herself relax a tiny bit. In a weird way she took the remark as a compliment. “Thank you.” “Are they your diapers?” Samantha jolted. “What?” “Are they your diapers?” the owner repeated. “To give away? To sell? To trade? Did you pay for them? Were they gifted to you?” More fear. More panic. “Gwenny said it’d be-!” “They’re not Gwenny’s to give away! She’s a BABY!” Samantha could feel the intense heat radiating off the older Amazon. “She has no say about her diapers. They are hers only in that she wears them, just like you’re a manager only in that I pay you to be! I pay for them! I say how they are to be used and who they are to be used by. Is that clear?!” Samantha’s reply came out as a most pitiful squeak. “Yes Ma’am. Sorry Ma’am.” “Good. Now get up and bend over.” The everything rushed away from Samantha’s face. Color. Blood. Heat. Everything. “Excuse me?” “You heard me, you bratty little girl.” Mrs. Thompson said. “Stand up and bend over across the chair, or you're fired.” She might as well have been stating the law of gravity, her voice was so definite. “But...but!” “You stole from me. I can forgive it because of the good intentions and the lack of evidence to the contrary...” she paused. “But you still deserve a lesson.” Samantha wanted to swallow her own tongue. This is how it started. This is how it always seemed to start. That or just being snatched up. “But-” “Your choice. Admit you made a mistake and bend over, or admit you’re lying to me and be fired.” “I’m not a…” Alarm bells! Don’t say the B-word around the Amazons. “I’m an adult!” “That’s why you’re getting a choice.” Mrs. Thompson said, her hands on her hips. “Would you like to lose that choice and go over my knee?” She should quit. Samantha knew she should quit. She should just politely say that she was keeping what small morsel of dignity she had left, walked out, cried into her computer at home and started job hunting tomorrow. She’d already hung up her apron for the night. It would be easy enough to find a new job. Amazons liked having a Tweener or two around to boss around. To boss around. She’d be starting back from the bottom. And there were very few jobs around here that let a Tweener advance. None of her friends her size had a management position. And rent was coming due. The uptick in pay she’d received had only resulted in an uptick in spending habits. She had nothing saved yet. Samantha needed this job. The young woman steeled herself. She turned around. Closed her eyes, and bent over the chair, gripping onto the far legs to brace herself. “Pants and underwear down.” Samantha’s eyes shot wide and she suppressed a question or an exclamation. If she spoke up it’d just escalate. Best to just take the licks and pretend this had never happened tomorrow. Mrs. Thompson probably had a paddle somewhere around here, just waiting to be swung. She did as she was told. And looked back down. This was better than most Littles got, she told herself. This would hurt (and it was going to hurt), but at least she could brace herself and stare at a wall. Littles had to look their tormentor’s in the eye when they were being violated. Better bent over than on her back. Fire! A thousand massive flames enveloped her backside. This hurt! More than she could have prepared for! It did more than sting! The blow rocketed all the way through her spine! Again! More pain! Torture! The kind that could drive someone insensate! Ritualistic pain! Exquisite pain. When an animal bit you it was to kill or else get away. This pain served no such purpose. Pain for the sake of pain! A third blow! And a fourth in rapid succession! Still, Samantha did not scream. She did not cry. The breath was all but knocked out of her from the first blow and she had to inhale in gasping little bursts through her nose. She was too afraid to open her mouth. Don’t cry. Don’t be bawl. Don’t wail. Don’t be like the Littles and the disgraced Amazons who ended up on the changing table. Finally, on the fifth blow, Samantha let out a noise. It was entirely involuntary. Less a scream and more of a grunt; her body’s automatic response of needing to exhale rapidly but lacking the capacity to get it all out through her nose, her vocal chords rattled instead. Her mouth stayed closed. It was more a hum of pain than a cry. But it was seemingly enough. “You’re done.” Samantha stood up. Her head was spinning, her brain buzzing. To counter the pain, her body was releasing adrenaline and endorphins (were those even separate things…? She couldn’t think clearly). Her whole body shook even as the tenderness of bruises was starting to form. “Thank you…” she whispered. “What was that?” It had less of the angry matronly tone Mrs. Thompson adopted, and more of a slightly bewildered tone. “Nothing…” The giant’s hand maneuvered underneath Samanth’s chin and made her look up. “No. What did you say?” “I said...thank you.” “For what?” Mrs. Thompson seemed confused. Samantha wasn’t entirely sure what to say either. “For letting me keep my job.” Mrs. Thompson blinked. A tinge of disappointment in her face. “You’re welcome.” The way her upper lip curled up a bit made Samantha think she didn’t quite mean it. Remembering herself, Samantha hunched over and started to pull her pants back up. Two giant fingers hooked themselves in the waistline, halting her. “Hold on.” Mrs. Thompson said. “What’s this?” “What’s wha-?” Samantha stopped and looked down between her legs. A spot. The tiniest bit of discoloration on her otherwise pristine underwear. A bit of off blue, in a field all but absorbed and evaporated by the cotton. Something even she wouldn’t have noticed if she hadn’t already known what to look for. “Did someone have an...accident?” Amazons must have blacklight vision! The owner’s face twisted into an almost euphoric yet sinister grin. A junkie was getting her fix. The cat just realized that the bird cage was open. The Tweener fell all over herself, tumbling to the floor and yanking her underwear back over her, clutching it like a life raft. “Mrs. Thompson!” She squeaked. “It’s not what you think! I didn’t pee myself! I...I…” “Oh I know what you did to yourself, young lady. The real question is ‘when’? Did you spend all day in dirty panties? A bit of big girl fun before bed and you couldn’t even be bothered to change when you got up?” “No!” “So you did this while at work? Very naughty!” She reached down, her hands aiming for Samantha’s pants. “I know just what to do with naughty girls.” “Oooooooooo!” Now Gwenny was adding in her two cents. NO! NO! Not like this! “Mrs. Thompson!” Samantha begged. “Please! Mercy!” The hands froze. Something else clicked in the big woman’s face. She stopped. She stood up straight, her back stiff and her eyes only half open. “Mercy?” she said. “Mercy?” Samantha shifted her hips and shimmied her pants back up herself. Not standing. Not daring to look away. “Yes, please!” A smirk. “Very well. You may go. We’ll discuss this in the morning.” A pause. “If you decide to show up...in clean panties.” The Tweener woman had nothing else she could say. She couldn’t even manage a ‘Yes, Ma’am’ or a ‘Thank you’. Or a scream or a panicked shudder. She just ran out of the office, out the door, and to her car, praying that Mrs. Thompson or her baby weren’t on her heels. ********************************************************************************** “You wanted to see me, Mrs. Thompson?” Samantha did not look at her employer’s face. She just stared at her sneakers, every muscle in her body tensed and ready to flee. She shouldn’t even be here. In a just world, she’d have quit. In a just world, she’d have been fired. Fuck that. In a just world, she wouldn’t have the legitimate fear of being spanked and then babied by her employer. The world wasn’t just. “I have a gift for you.” Mrs. Thompson said. She held out the package expectantly until Samantha looked up and took it. “You’re welcome.” Samantha stared at the package: “Bloomerz” Samantha read the package aloud. “For Tweeners and Amazons potty training late. Now, with fade when wet designs and easy open sides.” She gulped. “Diapers?” It was very difficult to tell the difference between Littles, Tweeners, and Amazons without a decent sense of scale. That definitely wasn’t a child model on the front, grinning in her pink shirt and matching padding. “Disposable training pants,” Mrs. Thompson corrected. “The kind that you can pull up and on all by yourself.” She rotated the package and pointed to a diagram on the back. “With a clothlike cover and decorations, just like big kid underwear. Isn’t that wonderful?” “Um…” Samantha knew she had to couch her response very carefully. “I appreciate the thought. Thank you.” She took a half step back. “I should start prepping…” “Put them on.” It was not a request. “Excuse me?” Samantha had heard the command. Her brain just didn’t dare process it. No wiggle room was being given. “You can put them on like a big girl,” the owner repeated. “Or I can put you in something else.” Samantha felt her jaw go slack. “I’ll not have my manager walking around in dirty panties for hours at a time.” Her glare intensified. “Or doing naughty things in public.” The Tweener’s face sank. She shouldn’t have come in today. She might be able to run out now if she bolted and didn’t slow down. Did she lock her car or leave it open? She wouldn’t be able to outrun an Amazon if she had to waste those precious few seconds unlocking her car. “You still are my store manager, aren’t you? Still my big girl?” Something about that phrasing did something to Samantha. She was being condescended to and given a compliment at the same time; as much as an Amazon tended to compliment one such as her. “Do you need my help?” “Can I do it in private?” Samantha asked. “How would I know you did it then? That I can trust you?” The (for now it seemed) Manager gulped. “I meant, can I do it without Gwenny here?” Gwenny looked up from her dolls, still sucking on a pacifier to keep her quiet. “You don’t have anything Gwenny hasn’t already seen.” Samantha shuddered. To have been spanked in front of the woman she’d surpassed, that had arguably been the worst part. “Am I still being punished?” she asked. “No,” Mrs. Thompson lied. “These are just to help you. Remind you. Just because you’re not being punished doesn’t mean you’ve earned trust.” Samantha looked back towards Gwenny. “Then I’d like some privacy, please.” She said. “No babies.” Her throat was forming a lump, and she couldn’t tell if it was out of fear or anger. “I understand modesty.” Gwenny’s face collapsed around her dummy. Perhaps the girl had a smidgen of pride left in her, despite the number of times she’d been changed in public. The expression doubled over when Mrs. Thompson said. “Gwenny, go set up your serving station.” “But Mommy-!” Gwenny whined. “No buts,” her Mommy interrupted. “Or are you also a bad girl that gets naughty seeing her friends get embarrassed?” Scarlet rose to Samantha’s cheeks. Mrs. Thompson had guessed certain motivations. Was she that easy to read? Or was her boss guessing her motivations so easily because she had them herself. It would explain a lot. With the quietest huff, Gwenny crinkled out of the office, mumbling pseudo-obscenities around her pacifier. “There,” Mrs. Thompson ripped open the package of pull-ups. “No more stalling. Gwenny should only be left alone for so long. Get to it, missy.” It was like being at the doctor’s office. Or the hospital. It was just changing into a hospital gown, metaphorically speaking. Just kick off her shoes, drop her pants and underwear, and slip on the new garment. It was a bit like a maxi pad, this new Pull-Up. A bit thicker, but not too terribly much. Certainly not as bad as a diaper. She went to get her pants, but Mrs. Thompson reached out and snatched them. Oh no...please no! “But-!” “You’ll get to wear them.” Mrs. Thompson said. “I just want your attention first.” Samantha froze. “You’re a big girl, but you’re going to be wearing these just in case…” The Amazon didn’t specify ‘just in case what’. “And because you’ve been naughty in my store, you’re going to need permission to go to the potty.” Images of her co-workers -mostly Amazons and a handful of Tweeners- the people she was supposed to be giving order to holding the permission over her, “Permission from whom?” Gwenny wouldn’t think to. A few of the others might just tell her to hold it for spite. Then she’d end up peeing herself, then she’d end up just like Gwenny. Just. Like. Gwenny. “Mine, of course.” The owner said. “And I’ll be watching you. Making sure you don’t have any accidents.” Samantha grit her teeth. “And what if I have an...accident?” Better to ask now. Amazons had a habit of making up the rules as they went along, but they tended to stick to rules that they’d already made up. Best to know the rules now. “That depends.” Mrs. Thompson said. “Are you a big girl, or a baby?” Samantha didn’t answer. She didn’t like that ‘adult’ wasn’t a given option. “If you’re a big girl you’ll come tell me right away. Accidents can be forgiven. But if you try and hide it from me, I’m going to assume you’re either too immature to be a big girl, or that you generally don’t know what’s going on inside your pants. In which case…” She let the threat just hang there, before handing Samantha her pants back. She kept the panties, though. “Yes, Ma’am…” The Tweener didn’t even ask who would be monitoring. Back when she had been Gwendolyn, Gwenny had had a keen eye for detail, and would watch the Littles she casually poisoned like a hawk. Even in her reduced status, Gwenny still had that skill set. Most of the mush still ended up in her diaper instead of her brain. Samantha pulled her pants back over the training panties. It wasn’t too bad. There was a bit of a lump around her groin where none had existed, but it was the kind of thing that someone only noticed if they were looking for it. It’d be doubly hard to notice as long as she kept her shirt untucked and her apron on. Super easy. “Oh, and one more thing.” Mrs. Thompson said. “I’m going to expand your responsibilities.” Uh oh. “Yes?” “As manager, it’s going to be your specific job to help any and all of our clients with changing their little ones. Make sure they’ve got the appropriate supplies. Offer to hold or hand things to them. Change them yourself if they ask you to. You’ll be an attendant of sorts.” Samantha’s jaw had yet to unclench. “And if they ask me to leave?” “Then leave, of course. But if they don’t, you make sure you’re there. Watch them. Make sure everything is cleaned up properly in the aftermath, and ready for the next one. That kind of thing.” Images of Baby Tricia and Baby Becky and Baby Gwenny. “And the babies that are bigger than me?” The idea still excited her, and that terrified the Tweener. “Especially the babies that are bigger than you.” This was going to be a loooooong shift. ************************************************************************************************** It wasn’t quite two and a half hours in when the first hammer dropped. “Okay, Manny,” Samantha said. “You take orders, and I’ll make them Gwenny, keep passing them out.” There was a bit of a lull, and most of the customers were now idly sitting, sipping their coffee. Manny was coated in a light drizzle of his sweat from the heat of the machines and the pace he’d been forced to work. Morning rush was always a bitch. It was necessary for him to man the crafting and brewing station, while Samantha did the relatively easy job of taking and ringing up orders. Samantha was no Little, but she still needed a footstool to reach the highest shelves and ingredients. Manny was the wiser choice for the rush. A place scaled to Amazon (pretty much every place) worked best with Amazons running it. That and Samantha really was better working the register. Mrs. Thompson had run the numbers a while ago and found that Amazons tended to buy the more expensive stuff when Samantha was manning the register and taking orders. The Tweener was the master of the upsell. The big people tended to take her recommendations as a kind of challenge. Of course they’d get the next size up for only fifty cents, instead. They could afford that much. They could drink that much. Obviously, they’d get a pastry for two dollars extra. Did she, a not-quite-adult think they were too poor or too fat to merit a croissant or blueberry muffin? (Never did Samantha ever suggest that, but Amazons could be oddly insecure around the smaller folk. Big World Problems.) Now that the rush was well and over, Samantha could afford to dawdle a bit and take her turn. Give Manny a break. She traded places with him, and the slight rustling of the pull-up sounded like a dentists’ drill in her brain. The rush had been busy enough that Samantha almost forgot this morning...almost. Just as they were switching and Manny was wiping his brow, Mrs. Thompson came out of her office and to the counter. “Okay, Samantha. It’s time.” So much for the blessing of forgetfulness. “Time?” “Time to go potty, dear. It’s been almost three hours, and I didn’t make you go first thing this morning.” Samantha felt Manny’s eyes. The customers’ too. “But. I don’t have to go!” This was partially true. Samantha’s bladder definitely had something in it, but it was far from bursting. Like hunger, answering nature’s call was something that came in degrees that varied based on space and other distracting stimuli. The constant taking of orders, making change, and swiping credit cards had easily distracted her from the need to urinate along with the thoughts of what she might be forced to urinate into. Much in the same way that someone could eat, the Tweener could pee. But she was nowhere near starving or bursting. Mrs. Thompson walked behind the counter and took Samantha by the wrist. “Just try for me, big girl.” With her other hand she undid the young lady’s apron. That got a muffled, grunting laugh from Manny. The kind of snorting laughter that sounded a bit like radio static. “Heh.” “Something funny, Manny?” Manny’s eyes widened. “No, Mrs. Thompson.” “Good. Handle the counter.” Mrs. Thompson didn’t look back on her way to the bathroom. “Time for your potty break.” Samantha did. Manny was looking at her. So were the customers. Heads were cocked. Eyes were squinted. A few were nodding in tacit approval. It was mostly in her head, she was sure, but for some reason the relatively discreet pull-up felt a lot more like a puffy, bulky, bulging diaper, one that made her pants seem that much smaller by comparison. It was in her head. But they knew. They knew… Mrs. Thompson opened the bathroom door. Samantha held her breath and only released it when the old wooden wedge didn’t prop the door open. The nearest stall was already open. Samantha waddled...no...walked...just walked into it. She’d only just turned around when the Amazon hooked her fingers into the sides of her pants. In one fluid motion, both her pants and her not-quite underwear were down to her ankles. Samantha inhaled for a gasp, and by time she’d exhaled, she was lifted and sat down on the toilet. She had no trouble sitting herself on the toilet, but the act surprised her, bringing back long forgotten memories from when she was two or three. Her real mother had been bigger (relatively speaking), but there was something...just something about being backed and seated onto a toilet as if one didn’t know what to do. The last time this happened, the receptacle hadn’t been connected to plumbing. The owner of the shop didn’t move. She didn’t close the door to the stall, and stood there. Watching. “Go on.” she said, sweetly. “I’m here. Go potty. You’re safe. Go potty.” Samantha looked down at her lap. No choice. Not really. She had to see this hell through. The changing table wasn’t so far away that she couldn’t end up there. The Tweener inhaled, and relaxed her bladder. The tinkling sound as liquid hit liquid was so common as to be white noise in the soundtrack of Samantha’s life. The audience member turned it into a cacophony. “Good girl!” Mrs. Thompson praised. She leaned down and inspected the pull-up “And you’ve still got your flowers! So big!” Ah. That’s why they were called Bloomerz. Besides being a reference to underwear, the designs were flowery. Blooming. That and Amazons tended to consider women such as herself “late bloomers” at best. Not babies though. “Do you need help wiping?” “No.” Samantha took that as permission to clean herself up. Mrs. Thompson still watched her. Watched her like a hawk eyeing a field mouse. “There’s such a thing as wiping too much, you know.” Samantha flushed and then pulled her pants up. When the sound of rushing water subsided, the sounds of tapes being ripped off of plastic backing took its place. Someone was being changed! FUCK! When her pants were finally buttoned back up, Mrs. Thompson finally made way for her. On her best behavior, Samantha was clever enough to walk straight to the sinks. The owner loomed over her and leaned forward. Strong hands grabbed her by the wrists and guided her fingers into soaping up, rubbing and rinsing. “Just in case.” Out of the corner of her eye, another Amazon. “Yes,” the Mommy cooed to the Little boy. The sky blue onesie was already unbuttoned, his diaper open, and his ankles crossed up over his head. “See that? She’s a big girl. She’s used the potty! She’s a big girl. Unlike you Mr. Poopy Pants!” The Little boy giggled and sucked his thumb. Oh thank goodness, it was just a Little. Samantha half pivoted to leave, but caught the expectant gaze of Mrs. Thompson in the reflection. Oh yeah. She was a monitor and attendant now. She leaned into her pivot until she was heading over. Two wrongs might. “Excuse me, Miss,” Samantha said in her best talking-to-a-customer voice. “I see you’re changing your baby. Is there any way I can help? Wipes? Powder? Oil? Cream? Perhaps you’d like a fresh diaper from the vending machine?” “I’ve got things well covered here, young...” She turned just enough to recognize the employee uniform. “Can I talk to your manager, please?” The shadow of her employer fell over her. “Samantha is the manager. I’m the owner, however.” “Oh!” The new Amazon gushed. “I’m sorry. I thought you were her Mommy.” No reply came to that. “Just give me a second finishing up this little guy.” She finished diapering the poor Little man and put him on her hip. “How can I help?” Mrs. Thompson asked. Her hands were on Samantha’s shoulder. “I just wanted to compliment you on how good your um...Manager was doing. The offer for help was unneeded. And she’s being such a good example. Such a big girl! Going potty and everything!” “Thank you,” Mrs. Thompson said. “We try.” Samantha thought quickly. “Could I interest you in a complimentary bottle fill up for your Little one, ma’am?” Anything to get her out of the bathroom. “Yes, that would be very nice.” The woman replied. Samantha caught her mouthing the words “So big” to her employer. Ears burning hot, Samantha scurried out of the bathroom and to the dining area. All the way to the counter, customers looked at her. They smiled at her. The smiles were condescending and infantilizing. Just like. “Good job,” some of them whispered. “Big girl.” She’d been beneath their notice moments ago. Now she was a ‘big girl’. “What are you looking at?” She asked, looking at Manny. Manny smirked. “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.” “Just...get back to work!” She snapped. She bent over to get something from the fridge and tugged her shirt down, just in case. “Manny, go clean the toilets in the men’s room.” Manny kept smirking. But as Samantha kept glaring...he stopped. He didn’t say ‘Yes, Ma’am’. But he went and scrubbed the toilets. Despite needing the prerequisite permissions Samantha never got the chance to ask. She had three more ‘just in case’ potty breaks that day. Each with head pats, smiles, and ‘good girls’. Manny got none. Fuck Manny ************************************************************* Samantha shuffled around in Mrs. Thompson’s office. Her legs were cold. She wasn’t fool enough to come back to work the next day without one of those ridiculous pull-ups on. But the only thing that sufficiently covered up the extra padding were shorts. It wasn’t even a physical cold as a psychological one; it was like how her legs always felt a little cooler right after she shaved them. It bothered her because she was used to having everything below her elbows covered up at work. The shorts were a deliberate choice on her part. Her pants fit well enough, but there was always that feeling that if someone stared close enough, they’d know the truth about her underwear. The regulars in the coffee shop knew the truth, anyway. This locale had become home of a sisterhood of sharks just waiting for the waters to be chummed. In a small way, she supposed she should be grateful to her employer for taking her in and out of the bathroom . A Tweener in training pants was very likely to get written off and diapered. The shop’s apex predator kept the others to the periphery. At least they hadn’t gone about trying to pat her bottom like they did Gwenny’s. “I want to show you something.” Mrs. Thompson began. Samantha made no reply. Other than to walk away, she had no choice other than to go along with this. On the leftmost wall from the entrance, far away from where Gwenny played on her blanket in the corner, a bit of posterboard had been gridded, labeled, and placed at Samantha’s eye level. The left column was simple enough, the days of the week. The rest was just empty grid spaces. All except for the title. “Samantha’s Potty-Chart”. “What’s this for?” Samantha asked. Darn it all. Never ask an Amazon a question that you didn’t want to know the answer to. “I thought ‘potty chart’ was kinder than ‘punishment chart’.” Mrs. Thompson said matter of factly. “Every time you use the potty like a big girl, you’ll get a sticker. If you have an accident, you’ll get a different kind of sticker. When this chart is all full up, we’ll look at it together and have a discussion about where to go from there.” There was the barest hint of relief in Samantha’s brain because of that phrasing. Had the older woman said ‘When this is filled up, you’ll be all-done potty training,’ it might have set Samantha more on guard. Words like ‘all done’ didn’t always mean progression where Amazons were concerned. On the floor was a small book of stickers. The Amazon knelt down, and peeled a few off. “Let’s see,” she said. “Yesterday, you went to the potty four times at work with no accidents.” She put four smiley faces on the chart. “Did you have any accidents at home?” “N…!” Samantha stopped herself from blurting out. That would only make her feel more guilty. “No.” She said in a more subdued tone of voice. Then added, “Ma’am” for good measure. “How many times did you go potty at home?” Fuck! Samantha hadn’t counted. Why would she have? After she’d gotten home she tossed the damn pull-up into the garbage, and stayed in her clothes just long enough for the pizza to arrive. Then she poured herself some wine and masturbated out of stress and boredom. She didn’t go looking on her computer, fearing it would be traced. Someone looking for diapered Amazons might get listed somewhere. Either as a pervert or a seditionist. Besides, no amount of acting could replace the crushed look of desperation in an Amazon’s eyes as they were forced to suck on a bottle. She’d literally beat off to the thought of Amazonian tears. “I believe you. We’ll just give you an extra one.” The Amazon put the sticker on. “No accidents at night? You didn’t wet the bed?” Samantha remained mute and shook her head. She did not get another smiley face for the reply. “Are those the same pull-ups you wore yesterday?” “No, Ma’am.” She’d been forced to take the remaining pack of Bloomerz home with her. It had stayed at the foot of her bed with a towel tossed over it until this morning. Without asking, Mrs. Thompsons pulled down Samantha’s baggy pants, and her eyeballs stared directly between the Tweener’s legs. “Hmm…” she mused. “Daffodils instead of Roses. Okay. That is a different pair than yesterday But how do I know this is only the second you’ve worn? No naughty accidents at home?” The mention of the word ‘naughty’ made Samantha blush. The answer raced out of Samantha. “You could count the number of pull-ups left in the pack,” she suggested. Damn it! Why was she helping? By all laws and common sense, her boss’s dominion over her ended when she stepped out of the shop and went back home. If this was a penalty for the other day, that was fine, but the punishment stopped when she was off the clock. Didn’t it? The Amazon reached into the brown paper bag Samantha had hidden the pull-ups in and counted them. “Very good! But how do I know you didn’t wet your bed?” She leaned in a little closer. “Or do something naughty?” “Mrs. Thompson?” Samantha raised her hand as if she were in class and the giant woman wasn’t already looking her in the eye. Whatever. It distracted her from the fact that her shorts were still around her ankles. “I thought this was because of something I did to your property, or in your store? Not because I was having trouble making it to the potty.” The owner stood up to her full height and frowned down at the Tweener. “You’re right,” she said. There was an unspoken ‘unfortunately’ Samantha felt. “My apologies, Samantha.” Samantha didn’t ask if she could pull up her own shorts, but she did anyway. Still, she didn’t feel safe enough. “If there’s nothing else…” “Oh,” Mrs. Thompson said. “There is, though.” She looked down at Samantha and her entire demeanor changed. “You’re going to need to be on your A-Game today.” she said. “I shipped out a load of coupons around the city. We should be seeing returns soon.” The Tweener stood a little straighter and put her hands behind her back. “I understand. Get them in with a deal, and then keep them with the product.” “Exactly.” The smile was anything but condescending. “I’m going to check and change Gwenny before we get out there.” “Mommy-!” Mrs. Thompson ignored her baby girl. “Then we’ll join you up front at the counter. You’ll take orders and upsell to try and make up the difference from the coupons. I’ll work the station with Veronica, and Gwenny can help bring people their orders. We’re going to need all hands on deck today.” Samantha nodded. All business. Finally. “Yes, Ma’am. I’ll get right on it.” The Manager turned around to leave. “Oh, and Samantha?” The Tweener froze. “Yes?” Mrs. Thompson dug into Gwenny’s ginormous diaper bag “You’re not going to have time for a water break today. I”d suggest you drink up…” The sippy cup was purple with a lime green lid on it. Mrs. Thompson sloshed it around to show how full it was. And Samantha knew from experience that Gwenny only drank from bottles. ***************************************************************************************** Dying! Samantha was dying on the inside. Four hours into the shift, and she hadn’t gotten a break. Not a quiet break. Not a coffee break. And certainly not a bathroom break. Her everything ached. It felt as if acid was consuming her from the inside? The customers kept coming in, and not in the usual slow trickle...trickle...why trickle? Instead they were flooding the store. FLOODING…?! Another poor choice of inner monologue! “Would you like to make your espresso a double?” Such pain. Just keep smiling. “How many pumps of spicy chocolate mocha would you like?” Grin through the pain. Her throat was dry from talking so much. But Samantha dared not even a sip of water. She had too much to drink as it was. Something was in that sippy cup besides grape juice! It was the only explanation as to why it felt like her bladder was either half its size or double its capacity. No breaks though. Never a lull. “Mrs. Thompson?” Samantha had asked sometime between hour two and three, “May-I?” Mrs. Thompson didn’t even let her finish. “Sorry dear. No time for potty breaks. The rush hasn’t died down. You’ll have to hold it like a big girl.” Samantha bristled at the words ‘dear’ and ‘big girl’. Meanwhile, Gwenny’s diaper was drooping from everything she was putting in it. It was almost as swollen as Samantha’s bladder, but the girl showed no signs of physical discomfort. All of the patrons gave her headpats and cheek pinches, causing her to blush, but not much else. Presently, Samantha wondered if she might be able to sneak away and use the ladies room using her ‘other’ managerial duties that had been foisted on her. Follow some Mommy or Daddy into the bathroom. Quickly sneak into the toilet, then help whatever insane Amazon had a poor unfortunate on the changing table. There was even a precedent considering yesterday. She might even be bold enough to ask Mrs. Thompson outright, in a ‘as long as I’m there’ way. So it wouldn’t be sneaking around or breaking the rules. Shifting from one sneakered foot to the other on her footstool, Samantha was caring less and less about whether or not the big woman watched her pee. She just didn’t want to pee herself. No one was changing any diapers, however. Not a single person had a baby, Little or otherwise, in tow. And the place was crowded. If any of the usual public shamers wanted to show up, they’d have to elbow through the ocean of java junkies. There was a very good reason for this. The coupon. After she’d tucked the first two dozen in the register, Samantha took a second to read it: “Adult Swim. Present this coupon and have no children, adopted or otherwise, with you to receive fifty percent off your order. Leave the kids at home and just enjoy!” Leave the kids at home… That’s why there was only one person wearing a diaper; two if you counted pull-ups… That meant that when..if Samantha had an accident, all eyes would be on her. “No…” Gwenny whimpered and frowned. She stopped right after handing someone their iced coffee and planted her feet. Her hands went down to her stomach. “Uh oh.” “Uh oh’s right,” one of the customers said. “I know that look.” A chorus of nods and knowing laughter rippled its way from table to table. Gwenny’s breathing picked up and her hands knotted into fists. She’d gotten used to wetting herself like a dumb baby well enough. But pooping... “It’s okay, baby,” Another said. “Make your poopies, then you can get my coffee.” Gwenny obeyed. From the looks of it, her body wasn’t giving her much of a choice. Maybe her Mommy had given her a bit of special syrup again; not enough to catch her by surprise, just enough to make it inevitable. “But...I…” and it was too late. The mess started coming out of her and all she could do was suck her thumb and squat as the crowd looked on while her pants filled up. Samantha’s mouth hung open. If her tongue wasn’t as dry as it was, she might drool. Gwenny, a once proud and powerful young Amazon, dressed up like a baby and forced to pee and poop herself while everyone looked on and teased her. The deliciousness of the situation almost made Samantha forget about her own aching bladder. Almost… Almost was too much… A sharp but silent gasp came out of Samantha’s mouth as the first splash of wetness filled her disposable panties. So shocked was the Tweener that she let the stream continue for a solid two seconds afterwards. Panickedly, she gripped the edge of the counter, and dug her teeth into her tongue to suppress the screaming sob threatening to well up inside her. What to do? What would she do? There was no way she was getting out of this. No damn way. Not when Mrs. Thompson had inspected her pull-ups this morning. Not when she’d counted them. Not when she’d gone so far as to inspect the decoration on the fade when wet design. Even now, the training pants were drooping a bit from the weight. They didn’t swell and bulge like a diaper, but they sure sagged away from her. She hadn’t emptied nearly all of her bladder, but the pull-up wasn’t designed to hold as much as a regular diaper in her size. Briefly, less than the span of a full thought, Samantha entertained the fantasy of escaping. Of somehow slipping out, finding a corner store that sold Bloomerz in her size, buying a pack with tip money and then changing into an identical pair that she hadn’t soiled. Roses? No, daisies! What flowers had she just watered away? Running away wouldn’t do her any good either. She’d wet herself. She was a lone antelope on the savannah surrounded by hungry lions. Even if she quit right now, the Amazons would just pounce on her and adopt her; call her immature or babyish. Then she’d wish she’d stayed in the training pants. It’d be a tight squeeze into the nearest playpen...but she’d fit. Just because she could climb up and down off the changing table by herself didn’t mean she was too big for it in their eyes. Keeping quiet and waiting wouldn’t help her either. Big girls didn’t just squish around in wet panties and not tell anyone. It wouldn’t take long for Mrs. Thompson to justify putting her in something thicker. Something that even baggy shorts wouldn’t conceal. There was no way out of diapers. Except… “Mrs. Thompson,” Samantha heard herself squeak. “WIll you please take me to the restroom?” “I already told you, big girl,” Mrs. Thompson said. “We’re too busy. Veronica, hand me-” “I PEED!” The words squealed out of Samantha. The whole room froze. All eyes were off Gwenny. Now they were all focused squarely on her. No escape. Just charge right through. The Amazon Owner came right up to her. She grabbed Samantha’s wrist and guided her off the stool. “Do you mean to tell me you went pee-pee in your panties? That you had an accident?” Exhale. Deep Breath. Exhale again. “Yes, Ma’am.” Samantha was sure she was going to have to repeat it. Louder for those in the back. Make a real spectacle of herself for the enjoyment of the big folks. Talk about what a little baby she was that couldn't even hold her bladder after a spiked drink and four hours without a bathroom break. That’s not what happened. With one hand still holding Samantha by the wrist, Mrs. Thompson bent over behind the counter and dug into her diaper bag. Samantha had to resist the urge to scream or run away, not that either would do. She cut herself short, when Mrs. Thompson stood back up with both one of Gwenny’s diapers and a fresh pull-up. “Gwenny!” she called. “Time for a diaper change, baby girl!” “Yes Mommy.” The relief was palpable in Gwenny’s voice. She did a little dip and curtsied. Then she fell in behind her Mommy and Samantha who were already en route to the bathroom. “We’ll be back in a moment everyone,” Mrs. Thompson told the waiting audience. “Just have to take care of a bit of family business. To punctuate her point, she closed the ladies’ room door and wedged it shut. Just the three of them. No peeking. Samantha felt herself lifted by the armpits and dangle carried over to the nearest toilet stall. Down came her pants around her ankles. Mrs. Thompson didn’t even wait for them to hit the floor before she started opening the sides. Too much like the sounds of tapes being ripped off a diaper. Samantha found herself seated on the toilet “Okay, Samantha. If you have any more in you, go ahead and get it out.” “Mommeeee,” Gwenny whined. “Can you change me now?” “You can wait, Gwenny.” her Mommy spoke behind her. “You’re a baby. Babies can wait to get changed.” She looked down at Samantha. “Big girls go potty.” That settled the matter. The tinkling as Samantha emptied the rest of her bladder was louder than the last time. Possibly because there was still so much. Possibly because she felt like she was trying to get it out faster. Was it even possible to push with bladder muscles? Samantha didn’t know. “All done?” Samantha looked down at her lap. “Yes, Ma’am…” “Try to go poopy, since you’re sitting there,” her boss said. “Just try. For me.” It was sweet. Like a parent trying to coax good habits out of a toddler. Then, “You might not get another chance…” Eyes slammed shut, Samantha grunted and groaned, and attempted to shut the world out. No one was watching. No one was here; certainly not a woman old enough to be her mother talking to her like she was some kind of- She was rewarded with the sound of a second splash and the feeling of a slightly less empty gut. The Tweener sighed as a single bead of sweat dripped down her forehead. “I knew you could do it. Such a big girl!” To show what a ‘big girl’ she was, Samantha was allowed to flush the toilet herself and then bent over as her front and bottom was wiped for her. At least it wasn’t as messy as if she’d shat herself. At least she didn’t have to look Mrs. Thompson in the eye. “Thank you…” she mumbled when the last wipe. “Left shoe,” the older woman’s voice called back. “Huh?” “Take off your left shoe.” Samantha did. “Now step out of those shorts, but only with your left foot. Her shorts remained in a puddle, but only encircled her right ankle. She felt lopsided standing with only one shoe. Mrs. Thompson popped open the Bloomerz, so close to actual underwear, but so very far away. “Step in. Left foot first, please.” Again, the Tweener obeyed, taken out of her element. The first foot and sock when through. The leg cuffs stretched more than enough to let her sneakered right foot in. The shorts were just a floppy ring around her ankle, easy enough to get through. Then it was just a matter of pulling the training pants up around her hips and putting her left leg back into the shorts. Other than her shoe, no other article of clothing completely left her body. She might as well have had snaps along the inseam. “And that, my dear Manager, is how you change a pull-up.” The older woman patted Samantha on the shoulder and then walked away. “Wash your hands. Gwenny, get on the changing table.” Samantha went and quickly washed her hands, actually relishing the small bit of independence given to her in the simple act. She only forgot herself when she started to walk towards the restroom door. “Where do you think you’re going?” Samantha pivoted. “Oh,” she said. Her so called changing station duties. “I’m sorry. How can I help with your baby?” A small, more pleasant tingle returned. She shouldn’t have called Gwenny a baby. After her humiliation, it felt good to talk down about someone else, even if it was just Gwenny. “Yes,” Mrs. Thompson said. She stepped aside and set a stepping stool down next to the table. “I want you to change Gwenny.” Gwenny sat up. “MOMMY! YOU CAN’T!” There was a grimace in her face from sitting up in her own mess. “SHE’S NOT AN AMA-...! SHE’S NOT A GROWN-UP!” “She’s more grown-up than you.” Gwenny opened her mouth to complain, but a look from her Mommy made her lay back down. She crossed one arm over her chest and popped the opposite thumb in her mouth. Samantha was almost as gobsmacked as Gwenny. “You want me? To…?” She stuttered. “But you never…” About half a dozen dirty thoughts jumbled together with six more terribly dark and paranoid thoughts. This was a trap. This was a treat. This was a test. But for who? “Go on, Samantha.” Mrs. Thompson coaxed. “Change the baby.” The little security camera in Samantha’s mind switched on. Her legs felt numb. Her face felt hot. A moth to a flame. A bug to a flytrap. She couldn’t resist. She dare not. “Okay Gwenny,” she heard her cooing. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” She tore the tapes off one at a time. It sounded better to her ear than when she heard someone else doing it; perhaps because when someone else did it there was always the lingering thought that it might be her with her back down and legs up. “I’m not as strong as your Mommy, so I’m going to need you to help me. Can you be a good girl and help me?” Gwenny’s eyes shimmered a bit. She must have been fighting her pride. Samantha was fighting something else. She undid the tapes on the Amazons diaper, pulling it back. “I’m going to wipe you down with these baby wipes. They’re gonna be cold, but they’ll get you niiiice and clean.” Samantha licked her lips. “Good baby. Now lift your legs for me so I can clean off the mess.” The Tweener was breathing through her mouth, and it had nothing to do with the stench coming from Gwenny’s backside. “Good baby. Now just hold it. I’m working as fast as I can. That’s good. Maybe you’ll get a treat for being such a good girl.” Samantha would never admit it, but she’d practiced this kind script just last night. It was the kind of thing she’d whispered to herself just before orgasm, and it was having similar effects right now. There was no bathroom anymore. The periphery outside of this scene ceased to exist. Mrs. Thompson was only in the back of the Tweener’s mind. “I’m gonna ball it up. Up with your hips. Oops! Missed a spot. Got it. Good baby.” Despite not having a drink in a few hours, Samantha’s mouth was getting moist. Despite having just gone to the bathroom, her pull-ups were getting more than a bit wet. Just not from her bladder. “Okay,” Samantha continued to narrate just as much for herself as for Gwenny. “Up one more time. Good girl. Nice new diaper. Oh, this has unicorns on it! So pretty. DId you decorate it yourself or did your Mommy help?” Even the Amazon baby was starting to blush in a way. “Such a clever girl!” Moist Gwenny was starting to giggle, despite herself. She cooed and gurgled around her thumb, starting to accept the experience as Samantha had. Something about that drove the Tweener crazy. She’d have to go back to work, but she’d remember every moment of this for later tonight. “You don’t have a rash, and your skin isn’t too dry. So I just dust on some baby powder so you smell just as pretty as you look. Baby likes her powder, doesn’t she? I bet she does! Yes she does! Okay okay! Stop squirming.” Soaking She drew the diaper up between her sort of co-worker’s legs. “Let’s count the tapes. One...two...three...four! All done!” She gave each tape one last push. It didn’t make the tapes stick any better, but it reminded both of them what Gwenny was wearing. So hot! Her training pants were now a swamp. “Thank you, dear.” Mrs. Thompson burst back from the periphery. In reality she’d been watching the whole time. Like a mother hawk. It only just now registered to the Manager. “Gwenny, you can hop off.” Crinkling and waddling, Gwenny did. “Yesh, Mommy.” Her thumb was still in her mouth. “Back to work,” she told Gwenny. “ I’m sure even without us, Veronica has been doing her best. Go hand out orders.” The big baby took her thumb out of her mouth and wiped it on her dress. “Yes, Mommy.” The diaper change all but forgotten, Gwenny skipped out of the bathroom. It must be nice sometimes, Samantha thought, to have that little pride and to so easily forget such things. Meanwhile, she wasn’t crinkling as much. Something had activated just a tiny bit of the absorbent core and pulp. A heavy hand fell on her shoulder. Samantha looked up. “You did a very big thing back there,” Mrs. Thompson said. “Good girl.” The Tweener blushed. “Just doing my job. You asked me to change her.” “Not that,” her boss corrected her. “Admitting when you had an accident as soon as it happened. A less mature young lady might try to hide it or run away. You were a very big girl just then.” Samantha only blushed, and continued to do so for the next hours as random patrons told her more or less the same thing. The sticker on her potty chart wasn’t a frowny face indicating the accident…but a star. *********************************************************************** A week later, Samantha stood in Mrs. Thompson’s office, pretending to examine the potty chart. She already knew what was on it. She had a greater sense of object permanence and memory than a child. It wasn’t pride that she felt, but rather relief. The nightmare was almost over. A full week and the chart had almost told its story: Mostly smiley faces. Samantha had gotten quite good at peeing in front of someone else. A few stars where she had an ‘accident’. Samantha was really starting to get a good read on Mrs. Thompson. No more sippy cups filled with goodness-knows-what to send her bladder to bursting. If Samantha allowed herself to pee a bit into the padded underwear every other day, that’d be enough to slake Mrs. Thompson’s hunger for humiliation. It was enough to give the appearance of potty training...but not potty trained. Also, and likely not-coincidentally. Every time Samantha had had an accident, she’d been allowed to change Gwenny. Clearly, her boss was trying to condition her. Obviously, knowing that, should render the temptation ineffective, but that’s the thing about addiction: Every alcoholic knows deep down that they shouldn’t take that drink. But being an alcoholic means they do... “Would you like to have that discussion now, or after work?” Mrs. Thompson asked. Samantha was snapped out of her reverie. “Now would be fine,” Samantha said. She really wanted out of these stupid things. Then she remembered herself. “If you have the time, that is.” “We have some time. I asked Manny to come in early.” Samantha’s expression soured. Was Manny trying to undermine her? He’d been a cheeky bastard all week. Was he setting himself up to take Samantha’s place. Or was she just being paranoid? “Okay,” she swallowed. “Let’s talk.” “How do you feel about this past week?” Mrs. Thompson asked. “Pretty good,” Samantha answered. “So you think it was a good thing that you got put back in pull-ups?” Trap! “I think a form of recompense for my past behavior was just.” “And what about your potty training? This chart has an awful lot of stars...for a grown-up.” Trap! For Amazons, one accident was too many. It’s why Samantha had allowed herself a few more. In for a penny, in for a pound. The fact that she’d never had an accident prior wasn’t a good defense. Plenty of Littles never had an accident before they were put back in diapers and whatever flimsy logic the giants could grab onto was used to keep them in them. There weren’t many ways to get out of this regardless. She made a show of holding her chin. Deep in thought when she’d somewhat rehearsed this already. “I think it’s a matter of pens and pencils.” A curious expression flashed across the giant’s brow. “Pens and pencils?” “People tend to make more mistakes with pencils than with pens. Knowing they have the erasers makes them more careless. Knowing there’s that safety net makes them sloppy and imprecise.” “And you’re saying you’ll be more careful when you get your big girl panties back at work?” “Yes. Provided that I only drink food and water from home.” Accusing the boss of poisoning her...a bold move. She couched it with. “Since I’ve proven that I can monitor and identify my own needs and hold myself accountable. I wouldn’t want to waste your resources.” Mrs. Thompson bit her lip. A tell perhaps, that her next line of loaded questions had been shot down. “How would you say being back in training pants has helped you?” Truth? It hadn’t. Lie? “A greater sense of...scale.” “How so?” “A greater sense of what is being babyish and what is not. Babies can’t control themselves. That’s why they wear what they do. It’s not their job. Pull-ups are...more an opportunity for a second chance.” “Do you think you deserve a second chance?” Time to roll the dice. “I do.” Mrs. Thompson stared at the chart on the wall. Then back down to Samantha. Back and forth her eyes went, like she was watching a tennis match that only she could see. Where would the ball land? “I happen to agree.” Samantha almost squeaked with joy, but contained herself. “Thank you.” “No more pull-ups, big girl. You get another chance.” She extended out her hand. Samantha took it. “I’d like to celebrate and congratulate you, too.” Samantha let go of the handshake. “Oh there’s no need to-” Mrs. Thompson didn’t let go. “Oh, but I insist. Come and have dinner with us tonight. My house. I’ll even let you take half a day off.” The last day working in pull-ups felt longer than the first. **************************************************************************************************** Samantha hiccuped, actually hiccupped, as she finished her cup. It wasn’t from a fancy wine glass like the one Mrs. Thompson was sipping from, but it wasn’t a sippy cup or a baby bottle either. Gwenny had to content herself with sparkling grape juice from her ba-ba. The dinner was oven roasted chicken coated with panko bread crumbs and dipped in ranch, with and steamed vegetables. Considering the portions, Samantha didn’t mind that her bird had already been cut up for her. Just meant more time eating and less time cutting. Gwenny had to settle for dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. Mrs. Thompson took time between bites to spoon feed the young woman in her highchair. To be accurate, it wasn’t exactly a highchair Gwenny was seated in. Samantha’s feet dangled more than Gwenny’s, but the diapered Amazon’s chair had a tray and buckles that locked her in place. Definitely a custom job. Meanwhile, Samantha ate in a normal chair, not even needing a booster seat to see over the table. Between the two of them, Gwenny might have been larger, but Samantha was decidedly bigger. “Thank you very much for the..” she paused and hiccuped again. “meal, Mrs. Thompson.” She wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin. “My apologies.” Samantha was feeling it. Amazon wine was strong! She wasn’t slurring her words, but her face felt sort of numb and she had to speak very deliberately and slowly so as not to. “Perfectly fine, dear. Can’t be helped.” She took a bite of her own chicken and then skewered a piece of broccoli to put it in Gwenny’s mouth. The grown woman was keeping pace with Samantha, but she was much bigger than her. The wine wasn’t affecting her. “However, I’ve been thinking…” The last bite of ranch chicken went down hard. “Yes?” “I could use some help around the house. Gwenny is a joy, but she can be..be..” Gwenny beamed. “I’m a handful!” “Yes dear, now finish your broccoli.” Mrs. Thompson looked across the table, expectantly. Samantha wondered where this was going. “I know,” she said. “Sometimes at work, she’ll be yapping and yapping to the customers, and will miss drink orders, and it takes me or Manny or Veronica - usually me - to get her back on track.” Wow, this wine had really loosened her tongue. “Not her fault though, she is just a baby after all.” She delighted in Gwenny’s eyes darting around. That would never get old. Not until Gwenny grew up...and knowing Amazon Mommies, that probably wasn’t going to happen. Mrs. Thompson took a swig of wine. “Exactly. Can’t be helped. It’s not her fault she’s so Little on the inside.” She reached out and gave the girl a cheek pinch. Samantha took her hands out of her lap and rested them on the table to avoid temptation. Those hands had gotten her into pull-ups… “Babies,” Samantha grinned. “What are you gonna do?” “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.” Mrs. Thompson said. “So initially I was thinking about adopting a little sister for Gwenny. Someone her own maturity to play with and get some of that energy out.” Samantha clenched her cheeks a bit, adrenaline fighting with alcohol to maintain sobriety. She wasn’t talking about adopting Samantha, was she? The girl was just tipsy enough to find it hard to differentiate between little and Little (it was all a matter of context more than pronunciation, honestly). Quietly, Samantha’s hand drifted over to the fork; not clutching it, but readying to stab a certain giant in the thigh if she needed to. “But then I realized that would only create more work for me. And most people with Gwenny’s maturity are Littles. Daycare? No thank you! And two babies is just too much for me. Then I thought about hiring a babysitter, but good help is so hard to find. And not everyone is as good with Gwenny. I can’t trust everyone. I need someone who is big and mature, but capable of of...” “Communicating with her on her level in a way she understands?” Mrs. Thompson was a lightbulb. “Exactly!” Gwenny spit out a bite of broccoli. “MOMMY!” “Gwenny, hush.” From top to bottom, the Tweener tingled. Was this going where she thought it was going?” She imagined herself, bossing around her former tormentor. Infantilizing her. Talking down to her. Changing her. Bottle feeding her. Tucking her into bed. In a word: ‘babying’ her. “Gwenny likes to be naughty at home, and I admit I indulge her from time to time.” Gwenny whimpered as her dirty laundry was aired at the dinner table. The two adults ignored her. “I can see that. I don’t know what goes through her baby brain, but I can tell she has alllll kinds of naughty thoughts.” “Speaking from your own personal experience?” That shut Samantha down. But then she was lifted up/ “In a way I feel like it may have been a kind of fate, this past week. You’ve proven yourself trustworthy, and you’ve always been a good manager.” For once Samantha wanted to blush from something besides horniness or embarrassment. “You can also follow a schedule. You can communicate your needs. Much more mature than a baby. Very big.” Samantha practically felt like she was swooning. “And since you’ve had a few accidents yourself this week, I think that gives you a special kind of empathy that many grown-ups lack.” The fork was out of Samantha’s grip. She didn’t want it anymore. In her mind’s eye she just kept imagining a thousand fun and terrible ways to babysit the giant toddler. Oh this would be so sweet! “I’ll do it!” Her acceptance was punctuated by one last hiccup. It did nothing to dampen her enthusiasm. “I’ll do it! I’ll do it! I’ll do it!” Speaking of things dampening… The Amazon (the grown-up one) clapped her hands together and stood up. “Wonderful!” “Mommy!” Gwenny squealed! “NO!” I don’t want this!” Samantha stood up, too. “It doesn’t matter what babies want. Your Mommy is right. You do need supervision!” Maybe it was the wine talking… Or not. “Wonderful!” Mrs. Thompson said. “Why don’t we start playing right now!” Alcohol was winning out over adrenaline. “Sure thing, Mrs. Thompson.” Her boss unbuckled Gwenny from the seat and let her out. Gwenny whined some more but got a swat on her padded behind for her stubbornness. She jumped a bit, but probably not because she felt any real pain. Her butt practically had a pillow on it. Gwenny’s Mommy looked at the Tweener. “No need to call me that anymore, dear.” “Oh...okay...M-M-M-” She stuttered. “Marion.” Saying her boss’s first name just sounded wrong. The woman’s lip twisted...not quite a sneer. “We’ll work on it, sweetie.” The big baby and the Tweener were escorted to another room. A guest room, Samantha would have guessed. Or at least she would have guessed if she hadn’t seen it with herself. A giant crib. Piles and piles of stuffies. A changing table. A rocking chair. Bins of toys. If not for the sheer scale of the room, Samantha would have guessed that it was a nursery for a Little. A breathy “Wow…” came out of Samantha. The exact measure.of her immaturity laid out to strange eyes, Gwenny just plopped down in a pile of stuffies and tried to bury herself. Cute. Playing peekaboo. “You like?” Mrs. Thompson said. This would be the perfect place to ‘play’ with Gwenny. “You really go all out, don’t you?” The older Amazon smiled, clearly proud. “Nothing but the best for my children.” Samantha blinked. “Wha-?” “Samantha. You be good for Gwenny. Mommy’s going to do a little shopping while you two play.” And before Samantha could say anything more, the door was closed. A slight clicking noise told Samantha what she needed to know. “Gwenny?” she asked. “Why did your Mommy just lock the door?” The big baby just buried her head in her stuffies. “Iff noff fair!” She mumbled. “Noff fair affal!” She couldn’t have any idea how ridiculous she looked wit her padded rump in the air. The Tweener went over. “What’s going on?! Gwenny? Gwenny?” No response. The Tweener did her best to put some bass in her voice. “Gwendolyn!” That did it. Though still on her knees, Gwenny snapped to attention. “What’s going on?” Samantha demanded.” “You just got Adopted.” Gwenny moaned. “She’s been talking about it all afternoon.” Heart. Chest. Explode. “What?!” Samantha yelled. “But I’m not a baby!” “No,” Gwenny sulked. “You’re a big girl. And you’ve got the potty chart to prove it.” She pointed to the wall farthest from the door. “See?” The owner had moved it. But it was the exact same chart. “Samantha’s Potty Chart.” “That’s probably where your toddler bed will go,” Gwenny huffed. Samantha felt dizzy with panic. “But? But? I…” She breathed in. This wasn’t happening! She was out of diapers! “I was supposed to be your babysitter! I’m in charge!” “You are in charge,” Gwenny huffed. “Of me. Mommy told me that big sisters look after the babies and the babies hafta do what they say. It’s no fair. I don’t wanna big sister! I got adopted first! I should be the big sister!” Samantha’s ears were ringing like a hand grenade had just gone off nearby. She was an adult! A grown-up. Not to Amazons though. Not lately. She was just a ‘big girl.’ “Now I gotta share my room…” Gwenny was absolutely oblivious to Samantha’s pain and discomfort. Speaking of which, it wasn’t completely emotional. That wine was going right through her and the seal was about to break. “Gotta share my closet too,” she muttered. “She got you more of those dumb pull-ups and a potty and everything. I don’t get a potty. At least I don’t gotta share my changing table with you.” A beat. “Unless you have a poopy accident.” The Tweener’s hands shot down to her privates. On one level this was so hot! On another level, she really had to go and was prisoner of a crazy giant! And when horny and scared butted heads, scared tended to win. There was no point in talking to Gwenny. No point at all. She might as well be talking to a Little: Gwenny was either legitimately regressed or just so selfishly locked in her own predicament that she had zero empathy for Samantha. She was drunk! She was caught. And she had to pee! She did her best to remedy the first situation. Running into the walk-in closet, Gwenny found the potty chair and pulled her pants down. Samantha closed her eyes, sat down and let go. After a week of having to sit on a toilet and pee and poop in front of an actual Adult, doing it in a closet while Gwenny moped ten feet away. It was a tad small, being designed for an Amazon toddler, but Samantha could fit. The stream came out fast. No more reassuring tinkling sounds, though. Not until the potty chair had filled up enough… Gross! “Uh oh! Looks like somebody found their first present!” Samantha opened her eyes. Mrs. Thompson hadn’t been gone long. “Surpriiiiise!” “Mrs. Thompson!” Samantha started to say “There’s been a mistake!” Samantha’s pants were off her ankles in one fell swoop along with her panties. “I’ll say. For starters, I think someone needs their trainers on, don’t you?” “No, that’s not what I-” But Samantha’s pleas went on unheard. A fresh pair were threaded onto her legs in a second. She looked just like a potty training toddler sitting on the potty...and she had the chart to match! “It’s just in case, dear. I know you’re a big girl...most of the time.” “But I-!” A finger went to her lips. At least it wasn’t a pacifier. “I know, I know,” Mrs. Thompson said. “You feel tricked. But you don’t have to be. Stay here. With me. With Gwenny.” “But...but…” “But what?” the giant woman asked. “But you want to be a grown-up? How has that worked out? Struggling to survive. No authority. No privilege. Not Little enough to be fawned over and not Grown-Up enough to be given anything of lasting value.” “I...I…” Pull-ups around her ankles and her own urine sloshing beneath her, Samantha was losing this fight. She wasn’t even embarrassed about being in this position anymore. That’s how quickly she’d been desensitized to it. “You’re tired. And you’ve had a taste.” She leaned over, seductively. “I know how you think, big girl. I know those naughty thoughts haven’t gone away. You’ve lost more fade when wet decorations, but nothing to do with you going pee-pee.” Samantha shuddered at being called out so brazenly. “But if you’re my daughter...my big girl...well...big girls shouldn’t get naughty in their panties. Ruins the material. But if your pull-ups are gonna be tossed anyways. What’s the harm?” Samantha could feel her heartbeat in her ears. “What’s the harm of going potty...and then changing your baby sister...then coming back to Mommy’s office and finding a nice quiet spot to get those thoughts all out.” “Would I…” Samantha asked, her voice a whisper. “Would I still get to be Manager?” “Better,” the giant woman hissed. “You’d be my big girl. Big enough to take care of yourself juuuust a little bit. Big enough to tell me when Veronica and Manny and any of the other employees are slacking off.” “Would I…” the Tweener gulped. “Would I have to wear a...a diaper?” The older woman thought for a second. “Maybe at night, after I tuck you in. That potty was supposed to be for my office, and I don’t want you getting up in the middle of the night. But that’s it.” “Promise?” “Pinky swear.” Then her tone deepened. “I just printed out the forms. All I have to do is fill out a few more bits. But, when I’m done. Or,” she said. “You could get up. You could pull your trainers up and flee the house. Get in your car and drive away, keep what little dignity you have left, and start looking for a new job. Gain everything by admitting who you are, or keep your pride and lose everything else.” When she put it like that... And so Samantha said the one option that made sense. “Yes.” “Yes?” Samantha sighed. Why fight it? “Yes, Mommy.” (The End) ******************************************************************************************

Good morning all: Yesterday, I updated my signature on DD. I updated it to indicate that I use “Voice command” on my portable devices. The reason for this is, that sometimes I am unable to use my computer to respond to all posts, or maybe because I may be sitting in my recliner and I use my IPad, or iPhone, and in that case I would use “voice command“, because I find it difficult to type on small keyboards. Several times in the last month or so, I have seen instances where things double triple and quadruple while I am dictating, or that a quote response will be doubled and tripled as well. I do my best to try to clean up this mess, but there may be times where I forget to do it or where I do not see it double or triple. Any device where are you use “voice command“ is susceptible to this behavior, and sometimes it can be annoying – this is because what happens is That either I end up with capitalized letters in the middle of sentences where they don’t belong, or fragment sentences that appear in one paragraph above, and then one paragraph below. This requires me to go in and edit the response so that it makes sense, and I usually do that from Console. Due to the confusion caused by this behavior, I have now updated my DD signature to indicate that words that I say or dictate may not be the words that appear in a post. They also may be spelled wrong, or words may be Missing from my response, which may make that response not make sense. Because of my disability, dictating posts can be easier than typing them on portable devices. I humbly ask for everyone’s indulgence and patience when they see posts that don’t seem to make sense: I will do my very best to make sure that they do, but barring that I ask for indulgence because sometimes I do not see when the thing goes crazy, and then I notice it at a later time. I don’t mind editing posts if that is what is necessary, but I do find it easier to dictate my posts rather than type them on portable devices where the damn thing has a keyboard the size of a walnut instead of a regular size keyboard. Thank You All! Brian

This will be my first story in this setting, so bear with me. It will be much lighter in fare than most Diaper Dimension stories I've read--no humiliation, no abuse, no sexual stuff or BDSM--and is mostly going to involve fluff. I'm using the adoption form made by @Alex Bridges in this story (check it out at the end of this chapter), and I'm also taking some inspiration from @Personalias and their Diaper Dimension stories for some elements. I hope you all enjoy! -------------------- I sat in the playpen, fiddling with various baby toys and floating in and out of my headspace. I'd always felt "little", even on Earth, and always felt embarrassed by it; after all, a 30-something man who occasionally wears diapers and baby clothes for some strange emotional need to regress would definitely sound weird to most people. Now, though, I was in a world where none of that mattered anymore. I'd heard about the Amazons and their adoption centers, ferrying humans (or as they call us, "littles") to their world, but hadn't had the courage to actually go through with it until after my 35th birthday. It was a rather bland affair, and difficult to enjoy considering the difficulties of life at the time; all it ended up doing was reminding me of my own fragile mortality. I'd never been in anything resembling a romantic relationship in my life. I couldn't drive. I hadn't even lived on my own or had a stable job. My life basically stopped moving forward shortly after graduating High School, and on that birthday it struck me just how long it had been stuck. That night, after a great deal of thought, I left the house on the pretext of heading for a party, leaving a note behind... and never looking back. It was strange just how quickly the process moved; I entered the building, filled out a form, submitted it, walked through a machine that did a full-body medical scan, and then through a portal. Before I knew it, I was on the other side, and physically 8 years old (but with a lisp fitting a toddler). Not long after, I was dressed in diapers and a baby blue t-shirt and placed into a playpen filled with baby toys and other littles like me. All of us still had our adult minds; though there were definitely elements in Amazon society that would demand we be brain-blasted by a marathon session of full-strength hypnotic cartoons immediately, this adoption center was not such a place. The option to be mentally regressed was there--they even had toys that would give a non-permanent hypnotic effect for those who wanted to temporarily forget their adult cares--but no one was going to be brainwashed against their will. I was fairly happy about this; much as I liked being little and feeling like a baby, I also liked being able to have an adult mind to return to. I'd indulge in the hypnotic toys every so often; much as a single drink of alcohol won't kill you but constant guzzling of booze will give you eventual liver damage, a small dose of the infantilizing stuff wouldn't melt your brain into mush as long as you didn't overdose. The only complaint I had was the waiting. I was eager to be adopted; my birth parents were nice enough, but the idea of a new family with a completely fresh start was a big deal for me. But day after day, I saw little after little get adopted by loving new Amazon parents, while I remained behind. Finally, about a week after my arrival, some luck arrived. "So here we have our playroom; take a look around!" I looked up from what I was doing to see an employee giving a tour to an Amazon couple; I sighed as they scanned the room, looking past me at some of the other littles present. Once again, ignored... "MOM! Look at that one! He looks like me a bit!" I whipped my head toward the source of the voice to see an Amazonian boy of about 7-8 years pointing at me. The couple--his parents, obviously--turned and looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Honey," the mother said, "didn't you say you wanted to stay in the car?" "I got bored! But look, that one really does look a little like me!" I considered this for a moment or two; there was some slight coincidental resemblance. Brown eyes, fair unfreckled skin, straight black hair in a center part, sharp eyebrows, big-but-not-too-big noses. If not for the size and the lack of glasses, he could have been a photograph of me from that age. At that point, the couple finally seemed to notice me. "Oh! You're right! Martha, he DOES look like Brian!" Martha followed her husband's gaze to me... and if she hadn't held it in I'm pretty sure her squee would have deafened all living things within five miles of her. "EEEEEEEEE! Oh my gods, Ethan, he's sooooo precious! He's like a mini Bri-bri!" Her glee was so much she didn't remotely register the embarrassed blush on her son's face at the nickname. "Hewwo," I lisped, crawling over to them. "I T'aweb." "Caleb here," the adoption center employee said, translating my lisp, "is one of our best-behaved littles. An absolute sweetheart. And his adoption form stated a preference for a family with a sibling, too." This sent Brian into a high level of excitement. "Really?! Mom, Dad, please! I want a baby brother!" Ethan turned to his wife. "Brian seems sold, and so am I. How about you, dear?" "Oh, he's precious for sure. But... the name Caleb isn't my favorite. How does he feel about a new name?" To be honest, I had no problem with it. But that wasn't for me to say--that was for the adults, specifically the employee. "He's indicated no preference there. Feel free." The Amazon family all turned to look me right in the eye; for a brief moment I felt intimidated by the attention... until Martha spoke. "How about Bobby?" Bobby sounded fine to me. I smiled as cutely as I could--I was eager to finally get out of this place and into my new life. Thankfully, this got the point across perfectly. "Heh, Bobby it is! Come to mommy, Bobby!" I couldn't remotely remember a time when a single sentence filled me with so much joy. No, not just the sentence, the WORD around which the sentence was constructed. "Mommy". With no regrets and no fear, I crawled towards the arms that stretched into the playpen and allowed them to pick me up, eager to start my new life.

Sorry to read the replies above. Clearly I was wrong. Won't do it again

Good! I'm glad buddy!???☺️

Good choice buddy! I hope it holds a lot of pee-pee!?

@Jackk I agree with everyone posting. You should never PURPOSELY poop in the pool. A swim diaper is supposed to hold the solids from a release. It is not designed to be bulletproof so that there is no possible way that you can’t contaminate the water that someone else may be swimming in. I don’t care how good a swim diaper is, there is always a possibility that what you release can be released in the water, contaminate the entire area and require the pool to be closed while it is cleaned. Let’s analyze this for a second: If we’re talking about a public swimming pool, everyone uses that pool. I have Used swimming pools for pretty close To 40 years. There is a reason that there are signs all over public pools, that tell you that you should not Pee or defecate in a pool. The signs are there for a reason sir: they are there to let people know that they should not do it: and that is to protect everyone so that no one gets sick because someone defecates in a pool. The last time that this happened and I was at my swim club, they had to ask everyone to leave the pool, then they had to shock the pool to “clean and sterilize it“, and then I believe they had to test it several times before people could get back in. As Rusty said “think“. Your actions could result in everyone not being able to use the pool for several hours because it Has to be cleaned and sterilized and returned to service. It is one thing for a young kid to do that in a swim diaper, but it is not a good idea for an adult to do that purposely in a swim diaper. Additionally, , this is the reason why most pools are coordinated very highly. In some cases the Chlorine is bearable, while other times the chlorine is so bad, that it burns your eyes. Public pools need to be safe for people to swim in, and the reason why they are chlorinated very high is to Avoid any problems because someone either pees or poops in the pool. I have been in pools in both situations. One where the chlorine was bearable, one where the chlorine was so bad that it burned my eyes and I could smell it as I was on the pool deck. Little kids sometimes have accidents in the pool, this is to be expected – but when we’re talking about adults, they have accidents too, but you should not intentionally poop in a pool or in a swim diaper to “test it” Not a good choice sir! Brian

Leave it with me, I’ll see what I can do ?

just realized Halloween is coming up again! and this time im planing on making a Forced to save dreamland Halloween chapter! so i have one question for you all. do you want a Scary dreamland adventure? or a spooky trick or treating adventure? no mater what, pardie will still wind up being filled by the end of the night. ^w^

They look like some kind of (goth?) Key ring or key chain........not for your butt though!!!!! ?

Yeah me too buddy!!!!! I would love that!?❤️??☺️?❤️??❤️

I am really liking this and looking forward to seeing where it goes. On one hand what his mom is doing will keep things dry. On the other, I wonder what will happen when he feels that he needs to go. This is a nice different premise to an old idea of starting over.

page 36 *** “Please just one more time,” Dakota said. “OK, “You’ve always felt like your body didn’t match the gender you are inside. You did online research for years, and three months ago you ordered three drugs from an international online pharmacy, Spironolactone, Estradiol Valerate, and Progesterone.” Dakota repeated the monologue into the phone. “Good, you’re going to be fine,” Alex said. “I wish you were with me,” Dakota said. “I offered to come, but you didn’t want me too.” “I know, I’m stupid, OK, almost there, wish me luck,” “Good luck, and remember they’re your parents, they are required to love you,” Alex said. “Thanks,” Dakota put down his phone and watched his hometown come into view. *** Dakota’s Mom eyed her son curiously as he stood in the door, “Come on in,” she said. Dakota was wearing his now signature baggy athletic shorts, and hoodie even though it was 84 degrees. His father came in from the back with some dirt smudged on his work pants and invited everyone to the family room. “Hey there, going to have some good tomatoes this year,” his Dad said. “Your father’s been working in the garden. Can I get you a drink?” Dakota’s Mom asked. His Dad brushed off his pants and sat down in the recliner. “So how’s the ol’ post office going?” his Dad asked. “Same ol, same ol.” “Have they offered you full time yet, the benefits are really good.” “Not yet Dad.” Dakota looked around the familiar room, family portraits of him and his brother, photos of relatives, art prints of barns, old trucks, and bird dogs. And clean, so clean, no dust,

I know my diaper wearing has definitely increased over the pandemic. So many places now don't have public washrooms or they're only for customers so I just cut out the middle man and wear my own Changing in public is another matter. If I need to change then its usually in a handicapped washroom where I can lock the door and do my business. I've never gotten any dirty looks from folks waiting to use the facilities or anything like that and the washrooms themselves usually have easy diaper disposal options.

Well the many years of drumming in a band have definitely affected my hearing, but I can still hear the noise of my diaper when I am walking around in my house or at the office. Even though I am taking maximum precautions like wearing cloth backed Tena slips, thick and soft plastic pants like the ones in my profile picture and a thick cotton onesie under my pair of jeans, I can still hear my diaper when moving around. That is why I really don’t like climbing the stairs at the office when there is someone right behind me. I am pretty sure they will hear it and also find out that it is my padded butt making the noise. Fortunately, the topic of adult diapers is still taboo and for many people the idea of an adult wearing and using a diaper is pretty disgusting. I think that's why no one has ever confronted me with that. Such conversation would be rather awkward. For me it is all part of the deal. If I want to be incontinent and go out in public I will have to accept that people might notice that I am wearing diapers.

Cliffhangers are bad yes. we should summon up the portal to the dimension of endless tickling yes and banish the author through it.

This was an excellent (and hot) chapter. Just loved the descriptions of his helpless body being "manipulated" during his change and his burned-out tantrum. Plus an amazing cliffhanger which smashed his reverie completely! Can't wait for the end and of course a chance at an epilogue ?

This chapter is dedicated to Luna Luvgood - she inspires me to be creative and keep my mind open to all types of possibilities... ❤️ Hope y'all enjoy (If you read this a few hours ago, you might notice I made some changes, sort of rushed through it last night) Chapter 10: Kyle’s First Day As they walked along the tree lined path, Kyle began to feel extremely nervous about what awaited him. So many questions raced through his mind as the reality of the day quickly approached. How many kids would there be? What ages were they? Would he be singled out for being a little bit big? Were any of the kids going to make fun of him? Would the workers be nice? All these questions made the walk go quicker than usual. Much to Kyle’s dismay, about halfway through there walk, he felt the urge to pee. He chose to not mention this to his mother, hoping to avoid a stern talking to, after she asked him twice if he needed to go as they were getting ready to leave the house. Before Kyle knew it they were rounding the corner and his was staring at the now familiar little cubs sign poking above the entrance to the resorts daycare. “Here we are!” his mother said as she opened the door and led Kyle into the bright colorful room where he’d been embarrassedly changed the day before. Kyle’s face was flush red as he entered the room holding his mother’s hand, trying his best to stare at the floor and avoid the moment. In the front of the room a fold out table had been set up to act as a reception desk with a fold out chair in front of it. The table had a large cloth over it that was painted in pastels (undoubtedly an art project by the children) and said “WELCOME LITTLE CUBS!”. As Kyle’s mother scanned the room, she noticed several children were already playing on the mats out in the middle of the room and there was one younger girl tending to them. A large woman wearing a flowy yellow sundress with green polka dots came out from the back of the room and quickly made her way towards them. “Well, hello campers!” she said cheerfully as she made quick strides across the room to greet her new guests. “Apologies I was getting organized, Tuesday is always a little hectic, my name is Mrs. Butterfeld and I am the Little Cubs lead caretaker.” She said introducing herself and extending her hand to Karen. “It’s very nice to meet you Mrs. Butterfeld, Darlene had great things to say about you. My name is Karen Connors, and this is my son Kyle” she said as she shook her hand. “Aww yes Darlene filled me in on some of the details this morning before she left to go help out at check in… as I understand it Kyle will be joining us for Little Cubs sessions – we’re going to need to review some of his details… I just want to go over his umm unique circumstances and fill out a few more releases and paperwork” she said with a smile. “She mentioned we’d need to cover a few things, happy to get you up to speed” Karen responded “Alrighty well it won’t take too long, just want to make sure I’m clear on where he’s at and how we want to address his ummm progress” she stammered a little.” Mrs. Butterfeld said as she retrieved some papers and gestured Karen to take a seat at the table. Kyle meanwhile was doing his best to ignore what was happening, sheepishly standing with his head down staring at his feet, afraid at the thought of enduring this conversation. Mrs. Butterfeld turned her attention to Kyle, “Hey there buddy, no need to be shy, we’re going to get you all settled in here shortly, it’s a pleasure to meet you cutie” Kyle slowly looked up from the floor, meeting her warm blue eyes with his and without anything else to say he just responded, “uhhh hi there mam, it’s very nice to meet you” he said meekly. “Well, its very nice to meet you young man, now your mommy and I need to go through your paperwork and get a few things tackled. Can you be a good boy and go sit in the seats right over there, we’ll be done very soon, and we can get to having fun!” she said instructively as she gestured toward some small seats opposite the check in table. Kyle nodded and walked over to the waiting chairs, taking a seat in the middle one and resting his chin on his hands as his mother continued speaking with Mrs. Butterfeld. “Okay Mrs. Connors, so as I understand it Kyle is 17 years old… you must know this is a highly unusual circumstance for us to accommodate – but of course, we’re happy to do it. The oldest I’ve had in here before was 12 and she was having similar ummm potty issues. I just want you to understand that we’re going to have to be consistent with our rules and I hope Kyle will be amenable to them…” Mrs. Butterfeld said as she started the conversation. “Oh yes mam, I assure you Kyle is a well-behaved boy and I really appreciate that you’ve opened your doors to us, it’s a huge help for me and I’m hoping he won’t be too much of trouble for you.” Karen said a bit embarrassedly “I’m sure he won’t be. I’d like to understand how we arrived at this point, how long has Kyle been having potty problems? I assume he’s been trained in the past – when did this begin and how has his progress been lately making it to the toilet?” Mrs. Butterfeld asked. Karen felt like she was in the hot seat but was determined to explain with a believable story. “Well mam, frankly Kyle had issues with the potty since the beginning, with weekly accidents and bedwetting until he was about 11 years old. He just hasn’t grown in proportion and his bladder is unusually small. About a 6 weeks ago, we started having daily potty accidents, bedwetting and some behavioral quirks. I took him to the doctor and the test results didn’t show anything, they suggested it was psychological, so we went to a psychiatrist for testing…” She went on to explain the findings from the counseling, his diagnosis with of APD and the regressive therapeutic treatment that was recommended to address his issues. For the most part matching what she’d explained to Darlene the night before in an effort to be consistent. “So that’s basically how we came to this point, I know this is unusual, but I assure you, Kyle really isn’t going to be much different than your other charges. Albeit he might be a 12 inches taller, I’d peg his current maturity level at that of a 3-year-old…” Karen ended with a smile and slight blush “I see… well most 3-year-olds have managed to get potty trained but I understand what you’re saying and it sounds like Little Cubs is the right place for Kyle to be. Darlene explained that he hasn’t been having too much success with his potty training lately, is that correct? Mrs. Butterfeld inquired “Ummm yes, it’s been a struggle lately however I think he is determined to succeed today, so I’m hoping we see some progress during his time at Little Cubs.” Karen said hopefully “We’ll do our best to see him succeed… okay now let’s review the rest of his paperwork. Hmmm okay bottles for naptime, sippies with meals / snacks, got it… okay let’s see ummm – well I think everything else on here is straightforward, let’s just go through a few of the rules and discipline then we’ll get a signature from you and we’ll be all set.” Mrs. Butterfeld said excitedly. She was much more comfortable now that she’d talked with Karen and fully understood Kyle’s situation, although a bit odd – it seemed to make sense to her and as long as the boy was not going to put up a fuss she would be more than happy to care for him. Kyle was doing his best to be invisible as he waited for his mother to finish checking him in. Time was moving by slowly and kids began to trickle into the room one by one as Kyle sat there patiently. As his eye began to wander, noticing the various children entering the room, his attention was drawn to a laminated schedule on the wall next to him. Today’s Little Cubs Daily Schedule: 7:15 – 8:00 AM: Early Morning Drop Off 8:00 – 8:30 AM: Circle Time and Introductions 8:30 – 9:00 AM: Free Play 9:00 – 10:00 AM: Table Activities (puzzles, playdoh, blocks, books, songs, puppets) 10:00 –10:30 AM: Mid morning snack 10:30 – 10:45 AM: Potty Time and Diaper Changing 10:45 – 12 PM: Outside Time (Playground and Field Play) 12:00 – 1:00 PM: Lunch time (Potty Time and Diaper Changing) 1:00 – 1:45 PM: Nap time 1:45 – 2:30 PM: Story Time and Puppet Show 2:30 – 2:45 PM: Potty Time and Diaper Changing 2:45 – 3:45 PM: Arts and Crafts 3:45 – 5:00 PM: Free Play and Pick Up Kyle’s heart dropped as he read the schedule over again. He’d not realized that this was going to be so structured and that being resigned to little cubs was going to prevent him from doing any of the other Kids Club stuff that he was familiar with. Well at least it’s only a week or so he thought to himself, he’d deal with it and then get his blue band back for next week. He was suddenly reminded of his intense need to pee that was starting to creep up on him and get increasingly more urgent. Being stubborn, he was determined to wait until his mother had left before asking to use the bathroom. “I can make it” he thought to himself as he started to curl his toes in and shuffle in his seat. A short while later, he heard his mother say, “well looks like that is all then!” in a satisfied tone. Kyle looked up from his anxious train of thought, as Mrs. Butterfeld rounded the table heading toward him. She extended her hand out to Kyle saying, “Alright buddy, you’re all set – let’s show your mommy around and get your things settled in your cubby.” She said cheerfully Kyle cautiously took hold of her hand and let her lead him toward the cubbies on the wall opposite the front door of the room. As they approached Kyle could see there were about 18 cubbies on the wall and 11 had name tags on them, he noticed Karly’s name on one and then his right next to it. “Here we are now this is your little space to put your things” Mrs. Butterfeld said as she took Kyle’s backpack off of him and set it neatly on the shelf. “Here is his diaper bag – I also packed a few more pull ups in there in case that one gets tired.” Karen’s mother said as she handed the bag to Mrs. Butterfeld. “Oh why thank you Karen, that is very helpful and we always like to have extra supplies on hand. I’m sure Kyle being such a big boy will do great with the potty but it’s good to have backup plans.” She responded. “Well now that we have your things put away, let’s take a quick look around.” Mrs. Butterfeld said as she proceeded to show them around the room. They perused the toy boxes, free play area, art area, kitchen, nap area and finally ended at the changing area near the back of the room where Kyle had been the day before to have his messy diaper changed. “Now Kyle, I just want to go over the Potty Rules with you and your mommy really quick then we’ll be ready to say bye bye and start playing!” she said earnestly Kyle’s face blushed 10 shades of red as he tried his best to grit his teeth, nod his head and endure this painfully embarrassing situation. “Okie dokie – so here are the rules: 1. Children in diapers who can stay dry longer than 2 hours at a time and have no messy accidents for longer than 4 hours, qualify to start our potty-training program, pending their parents’ approval of starting the program. 2. For children in potty-training – they must be in pull ups, until they can go 3 straight days with no accidents 3. In the event a child in potty-training has an accident in there pull ups, they will be put in diapers for the remainder of the day and can begin the training again the next day, as long as they meet the requirements of rule number 1. 4. All children in potty training must ask for assistance to use the potty and will be taken by the next available to caretaker. 5. All children are provided with a potty / diaper chart. We mark every change and potty time use during the day to track progress. “Well, that is all there is to it! I know you’re far too big to be in diapers and I’m sure your chart is going to be full of gold stars, but I just want to make sure you aware of how our program works!” Mrs. Butterfeld said cheerfully. Karen then chimed in “You got it all cutie, I want to make sure you understand and follow these rules baby.” Kyle sheepishly responded to his mother and Mrs. Butterfeld saying “ugh yes I understand the rules, I’m not planning on any accidents.” He said as his face flushed, fully realizing that his urgency to pee was getting very bad and if someone pushed him the wrong way, he might flood his pants right there. “Oh goodie, well I’m sure you’ll be a great example for the other children and we can count on your to not just be one of our little helpers” Mrs. Butterfeld said “Yes mam, I’ll be happy to help” Kyle said excited to be showered with the compliment. The large woman proceeded to take his hand, pulling him toward the group of children in the middle of the room, where a young woman was helping them build a block structure. “Kyle can you say hello to Ms. Candy? She is one of our special workers here” Mrs. Butterfeld said. Candy turned to look up from the floor standing up quickly to greet them, “Why hello there everyone, aww you’re a cutie aren’t you, I’m Candy it’s so nice to meet you!” The beautiful and tall blonde, blue eyed girl must have stood near 6 ft tall which was not evident until she stood up. To Kyle’s surprise and delight she quickly walked toward him and gave him a big hug. Kyle responded shyly saying “Hi Ms. Candy, I’m Kyle it’s nice to meet you, what are you guys playing?” trying his best to be interested in the activity she was leading. “Well nice to meet you too! We’re building a little city, why don’t you say bye bye to your mommy then you can come help us out!” she answered excitedly. Candy was rather surprised by Kyle’s size however she recalled talking to Darlene the night before about a teenager that was going to be in little cubs the next day, so she figured Kyle must be who she was talking about and did her best to hide any judgement. “Uhhh okay that sound good…” Kyle said as he turned to his mother and Mrs. Butterfeld. Kyle’s mom went in to give him a big hug and a kiss, then said “Alright cutie I want you to be big boy for me, listen to Ms. Candy, Ms. Darlene and Mrs. Butterfeld okay?” she said encouragingly “I will mom, I promise.” Kyle said in response. “That’s my good boy, now play nice and mommy will be back to pick you up at the end of the day!” she said as she gave him another kiss on the cheek and followed Mrs. Butterfeld back to the entrance of the room. Kyle proceeded to take a seat next to Candy and watched his mother as she began to make her way toward the door, still determined to wait until she was out of sight to ask to use the potty, which was becoming ever more urgent. “Hey Kyle baby, can you find us a cone shaped block from the box over there, we need one more to finish the top of this tower and we don’t have anymore!” Candy asked pointing over to box by the window, trying to get Kyle to engage in the play. “Yah definitely!” Kyle said, happy to be involved and even more so to do something asked of him by a girl so pretty. Kyle shuffled over on his knees to the box in the middle of the room, he quickly identified a yellow cone shaped block and brought it over to the group playing As Kyle crawled toward them, he started to observe the room, he noticed there were 3 boys and 1 girl playing with the blocks and 4 or so children who had recently arrived and were getting their cubbies situated with their parents. Everyone seemed to be in the 2- to 5-year-old range but he couldn’t be sure. Two of the boys playing blocks had rainbow bracelets on but the others had orange wrist bands. Kyle was a bit intimidated by this, assuming earlier that everyone in Little Cubs would be in diapers or pull ups… he just hoped he wouldn’t be subject to being made fun of… as long as he stayed dry he figured he could avoid it. He really needed to go potty, so he checked the room again, getting ready to ask Candy for assistance. Much to Kyle’s disappointment, he noticed his mother was still standing by the entrance engaged in a conversation with Candice who had recently arrived with Karly. This was putting further delay on his ability to ask to use the bathroom, so he resigned himself to just continue playing with group and wait for his mother to leave. “Okay I got it” he said as he returned to the group with the cone block. “Awesome buddy! Now why don’t you put it right there, you’re just in time for us to finish this, it’s about to be circle time.” She said cheerfully as she pointed toward the top of the block tower the group had been building. Kyle did as he was told and fit the cone on top of the tower. Candy cheered him on, “Wow that’s so amazing, what a great job! Thanks for finishing this with the perfect block Kyle” she said while clapping and encouraging the other children to clap as well. Kyle was not enthused by the attention, but he was much more concerned with his need to go to the bathroom. Quickly after that moment, he heard Mrs. Butterfeld announce – “Alright children it’s circle time now, let’s all get together, time to put the toys down and get to know one another” she said cheerfully but instructively. Everyone quickly shuffled around, Candy moved the block structure to the side of the room and as Kyle tried still on his knees went to get her attention, but was then interrupted by a rambunctious Karly who came barreling toward him to give him a big hug! “Hi Kyles – I’m so happy we get to be in the same classes, and you can play wifs me!” she said cheerfully hanging on his neck a bit and dragging him away from likely his last chance to get Candy’s attention to take him to the potty. Doing his best to not upset the little girl he responded to Karly saying, “Yep Karly – we’re going to play later, but I need to get Ms. Candy’s attention right now.” Not listening to Kyle, Karly just continued to hold onto him, hindering his ability to stand up easily. Candice and Karen saw the precious moment as they prepared to leave, with Candice calling out, “aww look at the best friends, so adorable, now play nice we’ll be back soon!” she said as they exited out the front doors. Kyle knew his time was running out and he noticed that the circle had began to take shape, so he probably only had a few seconds before his window to get Candy’s attention would close. He tried to quickly stand up, but Karly continued to hold onto him, as he did his best to lightly shake her off him, she quickly wrapped her arms around his waist as he stood up and as she squeezed hard it put unwelcome pressure on his full bladder. That perfect combination of timing and positioning, was all it took and without any notice – Kyle involuntarily let a huge spurt of pee leak out into his pull up. Terrified by the outcome, he quickly crouched back down to his knees in attempt to hold his crotch and control the flow from getting worse. Then he heard Mrs. Butterfeld say, “Okay children, counting down now, everyone find there place in the circle, 10, 9 , 8…” All the children including Karly, crawled to different positions that had opened around the circle, reactively Kyle followed Karly and found a spot open right next to her. He tried to assess how badly he’d wet his pull up, he could barely tell it was wet, so he figured it couldn’t be that bad and perhaps it wouldn’t be noticeable. He still needed to pee badly and now that everyone had taken their positions, his opportunity to ask for the potty had become complicated. He wasn’t about to ask in front of all these children out in the open like this. He just hoped he could hold it until circle time was over. Mrs. Butterfeld then began to speak “Alright Little Cubs who is excited for another amazing fun day!” she said loudly with the kids cheering in affirmation. She continued, “Well mee too and we have an awesome day planned for y’all. Today we have two very special new friends, so we’re going to play the name game to get everyone familiar with each other. Here how its going to work, I’ll roll this ball to on of you and then we’ll pass it around. When you get it I want to you say your name, your favorite animal and then I want you to make the sound that animal makes and act it out in the circle!” “Does everyone understand?” she asked presumptively “Uh huh!” the children said in response. “Well okay then, I’ll start. My name is Mrs. Butterfeld and my favorite animal is a lion and lions go roarrrr!” she said as she jumped up and made a big lion roar sound as she took big steps around the circle with her hands held out front like claws. All the children laughed and after she sat down, she the the ball to a little girl at the other side of the room. “My name is Sarah and my favorite animal is a pony!” the little girl said as she then jumped up and skipped around the circle going Nayyyy. She continued for a while before Candy grabbed her and put her down so the circle time could continue. Kyle was watching this go around and on top of trying to decide whether he’d use a Dog or an Eagle as his favorite animal – he was desperately trying to prevent himself from further wetting his pull up. Karly had gotten the ball, so Kyle knew he was next. “Hiii my name is Karly and my favorite animalz is a fishy and fishys go, blub blub blub” she said as she walked back in forth with her arms out front pretending to swim in the water. She quickly finished and came back to her seat. “That was very good Karly! Now you can pass the ball.” Mrs. Butterfeld said encouragingly Kyle was given the ball and wanted to get this over with as quickly as possible. Trying his best to fit in he said, “My name is Kyle and my favorite animal is a dog” He proceeded to get on all fours and make a trip around the circle going “rough, rough” as he did his best to play the role of dog. About halfway around the circle Kyle began to lose control of his bladder and much to his dismay he began to uncontrollably let spurts of pee into his pull up. He hurried as fast as he could around the circle to get back to a position where he could stop the flow, finally making it to his position in the circle he took his seat carefully and did his best to cover up his accident. With his face flushed, he quickly passed the ball to the child next to him. Trying to avoid eye contact in a feudal attempt to cover up his shame. “That was a very good doggy Kyle!” Mrs. Butterfeld said. Kyle uttered a timid, “Thank you” and then continued to zone out on the dire situation of his now relatively soaked undergarment. He checked his pants for wetness as discreetly as possible and it was clear to him at this point, and the wetness was beyond explaining away. They were about halfway through circle time when he determined that he was pretty much locked into his fate at this point, deciding there was no point in torturing his bladder any further. He decided to let himself go, relieving the pressure in his stomach and absolutely flooding his pull up. He figured he might be able to sneak off to the bathroom and remove it after circle time, perhaps he could tell Candy or Mrs. Butterfeld that his mom had forgot to put him in one for the day – or maybe he could explain what happened with Karly and his mom earlier and they’d give him a pass since it was the beginning of the day. His mom did say she put extra pull ups in his bag. As Circle time wrapped up, Mrs. Butterfeld announced. “Alright my little cubs, you all did such a good job and I’m so glad we all got to know each other. I absolutely love all your animals. You’ve all earned 30 whole minutes of free play! So y’all get back to having fun and we’ll regroup in a little bit for table time!” All the children quickly scampered around the room. Kyle saw Candy head toward the block tower from before and he decided he’d go rejoin the group. Following the others and Karly, he got on all fours and started crawling toward the block tower on the other side of the play area, hoping that he’d be able to find a chance to sneak off to change himself with everyone distracted in a few minutes. As he was headed toward the others starting to play with the blocks, he heard Mrs. Butterfeld’s voice from behind him… “Eh emmm Kyyylllleee stop right there young man.” She said sternly from behind him. From his crawling position, he turned his head to look at Mrs. Butterfeld with wide eyes as she appeared right behind him with her hands on her hips. She proceeded to bend down and put her palm on the back of Kyle’s shorts. “Oh Kyle honey I thought you were a big boy – why didn’t you tell someone you needed to go potty. You’ve leaked all over these nice khakis and have a huge wet spot on your bottom” Mrs. Butterfeld said while shaking her head disappointedly. Kyle felt the back of his shorts and much to his dismay could feel the significant wetness, he could only imagine what the huge wet spot looked like on his butt and how obvious it must have been as he crawled over to join the others. He stammered to come up with a response… “I, I, I was trying to wait ummm until…” he was cut off by Mrs. Butterfeld “Well its not worth worrying about now, we need to take care of this immediately, so no play time for you right now – we need to get you changed.” She stretched out her hand for Kyle to take. Kyle couldn’t think of anything to say and with immense shame, he took her hand and let her stand him up. As she led him over to the cubbies, he heard one of the children say, “Hahaha Kyle wet his pants!” to which a few of the children began to snicker. Kyle flinched at the comment but did his best to ignore it. Candy then came to his defense, “Tommy! We do not make fun of others for accidents! Now one more word from any of you and you’ll be in time out in the corner – do you understand?” she said seriously All the children responded, “Yes Ms. Candy, we’re sorry” and they went back to playing with the blocks. As Kyle and Mrs. Butterfeld reached his cubby, she proceed to take his back pack and diaper bag from the shelf. Then she went over to the wall adjacent to the cubbies where he saw she grabbed a piece of paper and returned to Kyle with it in her hand. “Well Kyle, I wasn’t expecting this on your first day and so soon, I’m surprised at you – such a big boy and you couldn’t make it 30 minutes into class.” She said while shaking her head. Kyle wanted to protest and come up with an excuse but instead, he just looked at the floor and said “I’m sorry mam, I’ll try to do better” “I sure hope so, well let’s get your chart updated. So when this happens we mark your chart with the time and a little rain drop sticker which stands for WET” she said as she placed the sticker on his chart and wrote the time next to it. “Now then, I’ll put this back and we’ll go to the changing area to get you cleaned up” Mrs. Butterfeld said as she put his chart back and then marched him shamefully across the daycare to the bathroom in the back where he’d been changed by his mother the day before. She put his diaper bag and backpack on the end of the changing table, then turned to Kyle. “okay let’s get these wet pants off of you, arms up for me.” She said with in a bit of a disappointed tone. Kyle complied lifting his arms to the ceiling, as Mrs. Butterfeld stripped him of his shirts and wet shorts, leaving him in nothing but his shoes and his sagging pull up. Much to his dismay she left the door of the bathroom wide open during this embarrassing process. “It looks like your shirt is okay but these pants are soaked. You need to let us know next time Kyle, I thought you were a big boy. Don’t worry we know you need a little more help now and will check on you extra to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” She said while slightly chiding the older boy. Kyle blushed hard at the comment while she folded his shirt neatly on the side of the table and proceeded to put his damp pants in a plastic bag. She then proceeded to rip off his sodden pull up, wrap it up and put it in the trash next to the changing station. “Well Kyle, I’m sorry we had this mishap but as I explained earlier – boys who soak there pull ups and especially those who leak on their pants need to be in diapers for the rest of the day. So let’s get you taken care of okay?” She said as she patted the changing table. Kyle shamefully climbed up on the table and laid back as he shut his eyes tightly. He was not prepared to be exposed like this to a total stranger and was just hoping she’d get this over with quickly. Mrs. Butterfeld had provided countless diaper changes and wasn’t really even phased by Kyle’s size, she just approached it as she would with any of her charges. She took out some wipes, lifted Kyle’s legs and began to wipe him thoroughly. She then reached into his diaper bag and pulled out one of Kyle’s printed white diapers, briefly commenting to herself, “well these are cute aren’t they” she said as she fluffed to out. She continued to lift Kyle’s legs and place the childish garment underneath him, making sure it was positioned just right. After this she proceeded to sprinkle baby powder on his bottom and front, rubbing it in and saying “This will make sure you’re all dry and won’t get any rash” she then proceeded to pull up the diaper and tape it securely. Checking to tuck in the sides around the front and inspect the fit. Satisfied with the work she said, “All done honey, we can get you dressed now. It’s okay open your eyes” Kyle opened his eyes and saw he smiling at him with her hands stretched out to help pull him up to a sitting position. “Alright arms up for me.” Mrs. Butterfeld said as she shook out Kyle’s pokemon shirt which and got it on him quickly. Kyle had noticed in that moment how short the shirt was, it really only fell to just past his waist. “Okay now you sit tight for me for a few seconds while I find your spare shorts and we can get you back out to the play area. Mrs. Butterfeld proceeded to inspect the contents of the diaper bag and Kyle’s back pack… but to her disappointment she couldn’t find any spare clothes. “Uh oh baby, it doesn’t look like your mommy packed you any spare clothes, I’ll have to tell her for next time and perhaps I can buzz her to bring you something by.” Mrs. Butterfeld said. “That is okay though, we have kidos just in their diapies and t-shirts all the time around here. You’ll be okay in just this for now.” Mrs. Butterfeld said in the most positive way she could muster hoping the boy wouldn’t be to upset with being so exposed. Kyle’s chest tensed up and the panic that set in on him was overwhelming. The pressure and the embarrassment was simply too much for him take, suddenly without warning, he started to cry while sitting on the changing table. “I, I, I can’t go out there in just a diaper, please don’t make me! Everyone is going to make fun of me.” He said in a quiet but broken sob. Mrs. Butterfeld gave him a big hug and patted his back, “aww baby its okay, I know you’re embarrassed, but see this is what happens when we have accidents, there are consequences. You know what though – its gonna be okay and everyone has accidents some times. Don’t worry I’m gonna protect you.” Kyle was still very upset and in anticipation of the moment Mrs. Butterfeld decided she better make sure she addressed the situation. She’d seen a pacifier in Kyle’s diaper bag and instinctively she reached for it and brought it to Kyle’s lips. “Here honey, suck on this it’ll help you calm down okay” she said presenting him with the dummy. At this point Kyle was distraught and he figured if he was going to be toddling around in just a diaper, what was a pacifier at this point and it had actual been helpful yesterday in the car and the bath. So without protest he accepted it in his mouth and sucked it hard to try to keep himself of involuntarily sobbing, as his breathing started to get under control. “Okay you sit right here – I’m just going to talk with Ms. Candy real quick.” Mrs. Butterfeld said, leaving Kyle on the table as he tried to get himself under control. She went just outside the door of the bathroom and waived Candy over. “Hey Candy, we’ve got a situation, as you noticed Kyle had a major accident and he doesn’t have any spare pants. He is having a little meltdown in there, so would you mind – getting the children together and making sure they understand – there is absolutely no making fun of him? I know it may inevitably happen later but hopefully we can at least contain it for the time being.” Mrs. Butterfeld said. Candy nodded her head saying, “Definitely – I’ll get them all on the same page, don’t worry I’ll make it clear to everyone. Maybe we should let him have some time to play on his own over in the plush pen for a bit – that way he can take some time to calm down?” “That’s a good idea – okay well go get the children all informed, you’re the best at that” Mrs. Butterfeld said as she returned to the restroom to tend to Kyle. Candy gathered all the children, explained the situation, and further laid out the consequences if any of them broke the rules. Some of the kids laughed but understood she meant business. Mrs. Butterfeld stood in front of Kyle who was starting to calm down. “Okay honey – everything is going to be alright; no one is going to make fun of you and we’re going to go back to play time. Now can you be a brave boy and come with me?” she asked in the sweetest tone she could manage. Kyle nodded his head and took the woman’s hand, letting her lead him out of the room. Kyle couldn’t believe his circumstances – here he was a 20-year-old boy who’d failed his first day of potty training and was now being led back into daycare wearing a thick baby diaper and sucking on a pacifier. To be continued…

Chapter 6: Journey to the Cabin Kyle took his mother’s hand as she led him out of the restroom back into the main room of the daycare, she was carrying his colorful baby bag on one shoulder and was carrying his dirty diaper in her other hand. He noticed the strong smell of baby powder and was embarrassed to realize he was contributing to the scent in the air. All things considered he figured it was a much better alternative to the smell he was giving off before. As they entered the main room of Daycare to join Candice and Karly, Karen asked “Hey Candice, did you manage to find the diaper pail? I felt bad tossing this in the regular trash can?” “Oh yah that’s a good call – you could have stunk up that restroom for days. Its right over there next to the changing tables” Candice answered. “Perfect” Karen responded letting go of Kyle’s hand walking swiftly over to the side of the changing tables to dispose of Kyle’s embarrassing mess. It sort of hit Kyle in that moment what he’d done and how childish it made him feel with all the fuss around cleaning him up. Yet without any alternative, he decided to let it go for now and try not to worry too much. I mean that was a fluke accident, he’d wouldn’t find himself in a poopy diaper again – he thought to himself. He noticed Karly was on her knees over by the window looking through the cubbies full of toys. “Mommy look at all this stuffs, I want to play with the dollies! They haves so many!” She pleaded glancing up to Candice with puppy dog eyes. Candice walked over to her and picked her up, “Aww I’m sorry sweetheart you heard Darlene – no playing right now we need to get into our rooms. Don’t worry you’ll be able to come back tomorrow for lots of fun!” She walked Karly over to her stroller to get her settled in her seat as the girl looked over her mother’s shoulder longingly staring at all the toys. Kyle was wandering timidly through the middle of the room, observing the surroundings, and grappling with the fact he may be spending time in this room during their stay at Black Bear this summer. He hoped he wouldn’t be forced to spend his summer playing with dolls – he thought to himself. His eyes began to scan the toys along the window line, he did notice some large lego blocks that at least looked somewhat interesting, Kyle had always loved to build things and models were a hobby of his. As Candice got Karly buckled in and then turned her attention to Karen who’d finished disposing of Kyle’s diaper and was looking at some of the rules titled “POTTY POLICY” which was printed in colorful lettering above the changing table. “How’s your first messy diaper change go Karen? I’m sure that was one serious clean up!” She said in a chuckle. Karen broke her attention from reading to respond “Oh you know it wasn’t so bad, Kyle was extra good for me holding still and listening. It’s not my first, but it’s been a while! You know just like riding a bike!” She laughed. “You’re a trooper!” Candice said in response. She began wheeling Karly toward the exit with Karen following behind her. She noticed Kyle standing by the cubbies looking through the toys and approached him from behind Suddenly Kyle felt a swift pat on his bottom as Candice chimed “Ooo did you find something fun baby? Like a told Karly, its not playtime now – we’re just in here to get you two cleaned up. Don’t worry they’ll be here tomorrow.” She said sweetly. Kyle looked at her and blushed, “I wasn’t really looking, just kind of zoning out” he responded to her nervously. “Aww its okay she said, you don’t have to be embarrassed about wanting to play with toys” she said cheerfully. “I bet you feel a lot better being in a clean diaper now huh?” She added as she patted him again on his diaper. “Uh yah, its ummm a lot better I guess” Kyle said sheepishly. “Aww I’m so glad you’re all fresh and comfy – you don’t want to get a rash” Candice said. Karen chimed in from behind “And you smell a whole lot better too!” Karen said as she approached Kyle and taking his hand. “Now its time we go get our keys, I’m sure our rooms are ready! Let’s go!” Kyle complied and walked holding his mother hand as the 4 of them exited the room. They made their way back to the main lodge area. As the entered, Kyle could see through the glass double doors to the lounge area on the left of the main cabin, it had a sign on it saying, “adults only”. He imagined his sister was having fun socializing in there, probably talking to boys in an attempt to start sizing out her potential for a summer fling. They continued into the grand lobby area by the front desk. The woman behind the counter waived at them “Did we get these two all freshened up? I hope you didn’t have any trouble finding things and enjoyed the facility. We’re very proud of Little Cubs Den – it’s a special place and I hope it met your expectations!” She said cheerfully. Karen responded “Absolutely! Thank you so much for offering to let us in, it was exactly what we needed!” “Well I’m so glad I could help, it seemed the children were definitely in need of new pampers. Your timing is perfect by the way, we just got word your rooms are ready. Darlene has already segmented the luggage and left a few minutes ago to store in your rooms. She’ll be back with the golf cart shortly to take you over to the cabins!” the lady responded. “Oh wonderful! We are really excited to get settled in so we can come back to the dining room for dinner, its still at 5 PM correct?” Karen said. “You are correct tonight is one of my favorites, fresh made chicken pot pies, summer salad, and grilled vegetables. And of course we always have the fun junk food for the kiddies, Chicken fingers, mac n cheese and the like. Just sit tight and don’t wander far. She will come and get y’all soon!” “Alrighty that sounds wonderful! I’ll go grab Kayla from the lounge.” Karen said I response. She turned to Kyle, “Okay honey – I’m going to go get your big sister. Now I want you to wait here patiently and be good for Candice, I’ll be back in a quick minute.” Kyle nodded and blushed “Okay mom, jeez you know I’m not actually a toddler right?” Kyle said in protest of the way she was speaking to him. Karen swiftly shot down his response, speaking in a quiet stern voice “Baby I’ll speak to you how I feel is appropriate, pretty sure I just changed your messy diaper, so I suggest you just go with the flow here okay and you know the rules – you need to listen. Next time there is back talking, we’ll be assessing punishments, okay?” Kyle looked at the floor and nodded his head. “That’s a good boy” Karen said “now I want you to hold onto the stroller so you don’t wander off, Candice will keep an eye on you, I’ll be back” she added as she walked away toward the lounge. Kyle shifted awkwardly back and forth as he waited in the room – feeling his fresh padding between his legs. He was more aware of his current state of appearance as he did his best to be invisible. No doubt he caught a couple glances from guests as they walked through the lobby, but no unusual stares – it seemed people may have been mistaking him for a larger child, however he couldn’t be sure. All of sudden his train of thought was broken as heard Darlene’s voice in the distance. “Well there is my favorite little family! Y’all ready to go!” she said as she approached them in the middle of the lobby. Candice responded as Kyle tried desperately to not make eye contact. “Oh yes! Karen will be back in a few seconds with Kayla, they’re in the lounge. Thank you again for helping us earlier – these two were in desperate need.” She said cheerfully. “Oh no problem at all! We can’t have kidos hanging out in messy diapers all day, I’m always happy to help out a little one in need!” she said playfully. Darlene then turned to Kyle who was still looking at the floor. She crouched down to say hello “Aww you’re a shy one isn’t you.” She said to him in a sing song voice. “Well cheer up – you’re gonna have the best summer ever! I promise you’re going to love kids camp and little cubs” she said sweetly. Kyle forced a smile, wanting to appease the girl “I, I’m just sleepy is all” he said to excuse his sluggish demeanor. “aww that’s okay buddy, I’m sure you had a long day. Don’t worry you’ll be all cozy in your room here soon.” She added as she stood back up ruffled Kyle’s hair. It was then that she noticed Kyle had two wristbands on – a blue teen band and the familiar little cubs rainbow band. She obviously knew all of the 5 wrist bands at the park. There was: - The rainbow band, which signaled they guest was required to be under adult supervision while on the grounds at all times and were restricted to little cubs activities, but more specifically that band meant the camper wasn’t potty trained. - The orange band was for campers 2 to 7, which meant they needed to be supervised and were restricted to Little Cubs activities but they were fully potty trained. - The yellow band was for campers 8-12 , which essentially meant they were allowed at the sports courts and on the general grounds on their own but still needed adult supervision at the pools and for water sports. - The blue band, which meant the camper was between the ages of 13 and 20 – which qualified them for sleepover camping, horseback riding, water sports, team sports and all the various activites they had on the grounds for teenagers. They were not required to be under supervision outside of water sports and stable games. - And lastly the Green Band which was for 21+ adults. She was a bit confused by this and her initial confusion with Kyle was somewhat explained. She’d thought the boy might have been 5 or 6 based on his outfit but thought he was more the size of an 8- or 9-year-old. She couldn’t believe this boy was a teenager and was even further flabbergasted by the fact that he still was not potty trained. She wasn’t one to judge and, in her experience, knew all kids grew up at a different pace, but this seemed very unusual. In that moment though – she was extremely sympathetic for the boy and was determined to make sure he was protected from any ridicule or any uncomfortable situations. She had some ideas and thought she bring them up to Karen when time permitted. Kayla and Karen approached the group from behind. “Okay - we’re here and ready to go, I think we’re all excited to see the inside of our rooms and unpack!” She said excitedly. “Oh yah that is for sure, we’ve got a lot of work to do before dinner - two littles one always require a whole lot of luggage!” Candice said echoing Karen’s sentiment. “I’ll say - it took me quite a while to get all your bags settled, hard part is done though - y”all just need to put everything away and get these tykes ready for dinner.” Darlene chimed in. “Now if you will please follow me, your chariot awaits. Miss - you can just leave this ones stroller here in the lobby over by the side of the door, I’ll swing back and get it with my luggage cart”. she said as she then waived them along to follow her out to the golf cart. As they began to follow Darlene out to the golf cart, Kayla came up behind Kyle, “heya little bro - feeling better?” She said positively. Kyle looked up at his sister with a half smile, “ummm yah definitely, just want to get in the room now so I can relax, all this public exposure has… has all been a lot” he answered sincerely. “Awww I”m that’s alright little dude, well here hold my hand and we can sit in the cart together, I”ll protect you” she said to encourage him. He hesitantly took his sister’s hand, not enthused by her insistence in talking to him like he was a 4-year-old. Still, as much as Kyle resented some of his sister’s success, she still was one of his favorite people and he was relieved that she was going to be there with him through this strange and somewhat torturous experiment his mother and Candice were putting him through. He continued to be lead by his sister through the lobby toward the large 3 row golf cart at the main lodge entrance. “Middle seat!” Kayla called out as she darted toward the cart dragging Kyle behind her, he struggled to keep up, due to his forced waddle caused his extra padding, which is was still getting used to. They all piled into the cart, with Karen taking the front seat and Candice in the back row settling Karly into her arms on her lap. Darlene turned on the engine announcing, “okay team, we all settled!” The three women all answered back “you bet!” “Well alrighty then, hold on tight, here we go!” She said as she took off away from the main lodge. They meandered down the main road for a few seconds and then veered left off onto the cart path which lead to the family cabins. Kyle was surprised since they were usually in a different location, this was a lot closer to the sport courts and water. As they went down the tree lined road, Kyle was preoccupied trying to take account of his surroundings. While he was familiar with Black Bear, he hadn’t stayed on this side of the compound since he was a baby; typically his parents get a junior cabin, which is just 2 beds, where he would share a room with Kayla. As they were moving along they hit a clearance in the tree line, exposing a large grassy field, about half the size of a football field that lead all the way to the shoreline. Kyle now had some familiarity with where they were. He saw a few people playing volleyball by the water and a couple of older kids playing soccer. Then he noticed a large colorful tarp waving up in the air with small children running around and probably 5 staff members accompanying the roughly 15 or 20 kids. Kyle was unsure of what it was so, he thought to make some conversation he’d ask Darlene. “Hey Darlene, what’s that?” Kyle asked cautiously pointing with his free hand to the children playing. “Oh they’re playing parachute buddy! It’s soooo fun. We do it every other day. Does it look fun?” Kyle responded timidly ‘uh I don’t know, just wasn’t sure what it was.” “Awww well everyone loves that one, we’ll be sure to show you how to play. It’s typically a Little Cubs activity - we’ll make sure you get to try it out!” Darlene said assuredly. Darlene was still a bit unsure what Kyle’s situation was and she had some thoughts she wanted to make sure she shared with Karen later on. Kyle blushed, as realized how silly he must of sounded, being excited for the game reserved for the babies. He was also hit with the realization, that he was in fact not only going to be enrolled at kids camp, but he was actually going to be… at least partially… forced to be a part of little cubs, a glorified daycare. He just hoped he’d be spared from being teased albeit he didn’t see how that would be possible. They kept going along the cart path for a little while longer until the began to slow down approaching a beautiful cherrywood log cottage. “Alrighty gang, here we are at Cabin number 23 – this is the deluxe one which I believe is for the Connors. Oh and don’t worry Candice, you and Karly are in number 25 – its just around the corner!” Darlene said as the pulled up to the front of the cabin. “Oh its just splendid. Can’t wait to get inside and look around!” Karen said excitedly as she started to exit the golf cart. She then turned to Darlene and slipped her a $20 tip saying, “thank you so much for taking such good care of us Darlene, you’re a real pro.” Darlene thanked her and responded, “no problem mam, its my pleasure.” She then added “Hey after I drop off Candice and take care of a few other guests, would you mind if I swung by here in 20 minutes to chat with you about Kids Camp?” she said quietly so Kyle wouldn’t here. Karen was a bit surprised but welcomed the discussion “No problem! Just knock on the door and we can catch up” Kayla and Kyle hopped out of the golf cart as there mother was tipping Darlene, both excited to see their new home for the next three weeks. “Alrighty you little stinker – I’ll race you to the front door!” Kayla said to Kyle. Kyle was happy to be challenged to something for first time this trip, responding quickly “You’re on!” as he sprinted (or waddled) as fast as he could toward the front steps of the cabin. Kayla with her long stride and being a natural athlete, quickly ran after him, pacing in front of him after a few quick steps. Kyle stumbled as he began up the steps, his stride throttled by the thickness of his diaper, he miscalculated the height of the last step catching the top of his shoe on the lip and falling hard forward tumbling down hitting the floor of the patio with a large thud. His sister stopped and turned around after she reached the locked door, to see her brother on the floor. She quickly bent down to pick him up and assess if he was hurt “Oh little bro, are you okay!” she said worriedly. Kyle was beyond embarrassed to have fallen so hard. He’d luckily broken his fall with his hands and elbows. As he began to try to get up he felt the stinging abrasions on the inside of his palms and could see his elbow was a bit scratched. “Owwwwweeeee ugh” he murmured as he let his sister help him to his feet. Karen has heard the commotion and was swiftly walking toward her children “Kayla you need to be more careful with your brother! He could of gotten really hurt!” Karen said to her daughter, not all pleased. “Honey are you okay? Do you have a booboo?” She said as she turned to Kyle. He responded, “its okay mom, we were just having fun, I think I’m okay just a little scratched.” “Well I’m glad it wasn’t too bad but let’s go put some Neosporin on it to be safe, I have some in your diaper bag.” Karen said as she took Kyle by the hand and with her other went to go unlock the front door to the cabin. Kyle winced once again at the word diaper bag and was curious to find out what other embarrassing situations awaited him. Chapter 7: Deluxe Family Cabin They entered the cabin quickly, with Karen dragging Kyle to the bathroom to the common bathroom to attend to his injury. As she was taking care of Kyle, Kayla took the opportunity to glance around the cabin. It was a large main room with a couch table, chairs and big fireplace. Beyond this was a wet bar, mini fridge, and a high-top dining table. She noticed around the table were 4 high top chairs with tall arm rests. As she went around the wet bar to check out the mini fridge, she noticed a large plastic U shaped tray. She picked it up to examine it and then only realized after that behind it was a booster seat. She realized that this was an attachment to transform one of the dining chairs into a highchair. Playing around, she grabbed it, walked over the dining table and fitted it onto the chair. No doubt this would easily accommodate Kyle. She left it on to see if him or his mother would notice. “Alrighty now you’re all okay baby, let’s get unpacked!” Kayle heard his mom say as she washed her hands exiting the bathroom. “Hey guys! Look what I found!” Kayla said as she presented the high chair to her mom and brother! Karen was delighted and a bit surprised by the site “Oh wow I didn’t know it came with one of those, well that will make breakfast time a bit more fun!” she said gleefully. Kyle was not at all enthused by this and quickly protested “Mom I don’t actually have to sit in that do I? I’m not a real baby!” he said frustratedly. “Well let’s see how the first few days go, but I think in the beginning it’ll be fun to try it out. Can you do that for me baby?” she said sweetly. “whatever I guess, just as long as its not for the whole time.” He said begrudgingly. “that’s my sweet boy” she said. “Now let’s get everyone in there rooms. Kayla I trust you can unpack yourself – your room is over by the door on the right. I’m over here in the back right and your brother is right over here in the back left. “Definitely mom! You take care of Kyle and I’ll get all situated” Kayla responded while grabbing her bag from the large pile of luggage on the floor and heading to her room. “Okie dokie, well now Kyle let’s go explore your little room” she said excitedly. She went to grab his large mickey mouse luggage, along with his Hilda bag and lead him by the hand to the back of the room. He noticed on the outside of his door was a picture of a sleeping baby bear, tucked into bed with a half crescent moon above its head, it screamed nursery and he was now very nervous to see what awaited him on the other side of the door. His mother opened the room leading him inside, saying “Okie dokie cutie, this is your special room for the next few weeks.” Kyle was taken back by what he saw. There was no doubt that this was in fact a nursery. The first thing he noticed was the twin sized toddler daybed in the left corner of the room. The bed was painted white with large sides across the head, foot and side closest to the wall. It was about 3 ft off the ground and the bottom was covered by a dressing, he suspected there was perhaps a trundle underneath. To top things off, hung from the ceiling was a forest themed mobile, with little trees, stars and a moon that seemed to be spinning freely above the bed. As he walked deeper into the room toward the back, he saw he had his own bathroom in the far right hand corner toward the back of the room. It was then that he noticed, on the wall opposite to the bed toward the door was a long dresser with a flush padded top. Then his eyes glanced to the open cubbies underneath the top where he saw diapers, powder and baby wipes. It was then he realized this was a changing table. He then noticed how babyish the décor was. The walls were a pastel blue with cartoon forest animals lining the moldings. There was a large white rocking chair in the right hand corner of the room by the door. The large centerpiece carpet patterned with little roads in the forest, that was clearly a playmat for children. Even the art on the walls was all baby themed, one dawning a sleeping baby bear cub, another of a baby deer with her mother and one of a stork holding a baby which was above the changing table. He was speechless in that moment, but his mother broker his silence “This is so amazing, even better than how they described it. I hope you like it baby, I know it’s going to take some getting used to but it’s for the best.” Karen said to Kyle encouragingly. Kyle in an effort to be a good sport and not create any tension, just responded saying “uh yah mom, its pretty nice a bit much but seems comfortable enough” he said with a smile. “Aww I’m glad you like it sweetie! We’re going to have lots of fun in here. Now speaking of fun – let’s get you something out of your bag to play with while I get everything unpacked, you just take a little seat on the floor for me!” Kyle without thinking of anything else, sat down on the floor. He felt so small in that moment as his Mother was racing around his room beginning to organize and unpack his bag. “Well here we are, this will be fun for you. Why don’t you check this out!” Karen said as she went to hand him a cloth bag that sounded like something plastic was shaking around on the inside. “Uh okay, thanks mom” Kyle said taking the bag. He realized the side of the bag said toys on it. As he opened it up he was disappointed to see that he was provided with an assortment of plastic trucks, large hot wheel cars, some mega blocks, and a few small stuffed animals. Not wanting to just sit there in that moment, he took out all of toys and began to organize them in a formation on the floor. He quickly found himself moving the truck around, trying to find the right spot for it. The floor mat in his room, was actually designed for this type of play and Kyle began to get distracted, organizing his little city out on the play mat losing track of the time as his mother continued to run around organizing the house. After zoning out for a moment, he suddenly heard his mother come back from being in the kitchen a moment “Awww is someone having fun?” she asked candidly. “Uhhh yah kinda I guess, I’m just trying to place these in the right areas.” Kyle said abashedly. “Aww well I’m sure there will be more time for that soon. I’ve got you all put away, now I need to do a few of my things and get ready for dinner. You’ve had a very long day, so I want you to lay down for a little while okay.” Kyle’s mother said with her hands on her hips staring down at Kyle with a smiling face. “Doesn’t a little rest sound good honey” She asked “Ummm I’m not that sleepy mom, can I just watch my Amazon Fire for a little while you organize.” Kyle pleaded. “You’ve watched that all day cutie, I want you to get up in bed here and close your eyes for me. Its just a quick 30-minute nap before dinner okay. Kayla is in the shower and there is no one to watch you right now.” “Alright I guess I could use a bit of rest.” Kyle finally agreed. “That’s my boy” Karen said as she grabbed both of Kyle’s hands helping him off the ground and leaded him over the side of his new bed. She sat him down, removed his shoes and then undid the straps of his short-alls. “We’ll just let you nap in your diaper and your t-shirt right now.” She said in a sing song voice as she removed his short-alls and gave him a little tap on his nose. She then guided him to lay down on the bed and then moved across the room to grab something from the table across the room. She returned holding his bear, a blanket and something else in her hand “Okay my sweetheart, its naptime – so you be a good boy and go sleepy for me.” She fluffed out the blanket over Kyle and then handed him his little bear which he accepted as she tucked it into his arms. Then to Kyle’s dismay, she sat down on the side of the bed and presented him with a baby bottle of milk, “Now honey we’ve still got some rules we need to go over, one of them that is supposed to be a big part of this is routine. You will be taking a bottle whenever you go sleepy. I wanted to get you used to this. I only filled this one about halfway, but I want you to finish this for me okay?” Karen said to him in a sweet but serious tone. “aww mom do I have to?” Kyle said pleading with his mother as if this was a step to far. “Yes darling you have to, now I better see this all gone when I come get you up in a half hour – am I clear cutie?” “Yes mom” Kyle said. “That a good boy” Karen responded as she took the bottle and guided it into Kyle’s mouth. “There you go baby, now drink up.” Karen waited for a moment holding the bottle in his mouth waiting for him to begin sucking at the sweet milk. Kyle reluctantly complied with his mother and started to nurse at the bottle, with his face getting flush at the thought of his embarrassing situation. “Alrighty baby you hold on to this tight okay and don’t stop sucking on it until you finish it all up for mommy.” Karen said as she guided his hand to the bottle and gave him a kiss on the check. As she stood up, she reached down to the side of the bed, flipped over a cover, and then lifted up a side rail that Kyle hadn’t seen before. It went up about three feet and transformed the already childish bed into essentially a crib. Kyle was not pleased but didn’t dare take the bottle out of his mouth to protect, he know it would result in a major punishment. Kyle’s mother leaned over the side of the rail looking down at her baby “Now there is two-way monitor from this room to my room, if you need me, you just say so and I’ll be in here before you know it okay sweetheart.” Kyle just nodded at his mother, absolutely paralyzed by embarrassment, and sat there bewildered by how he ended up in this situation. His mother left the room and flipped on the nursery chime which began to hum gentle lullaby music, she then turned off the lights and left the room saying, “rest well little one, I’ll come get you in just a little bit”. as she shut the door. Kyle was left to his own devices, staring at the mobile spinning above and sucking his bottle obediently. To his surprise, the rhythm of everything and the long day got the best of him, causing him to drift off to sleep. Karen was very satisfied with how things were going. Kyle seemed to be taking to his treatment rather well and everyone had been so supportive so far. They’d basically made it up to the resort with only one extreme mishap, which although a big one – she figured it was a part of the whole experience of being and his treatment, so she was not actually surprised. She figured the laxative in his breakfast was a bit of an extreme step, but she was trusting Candice and knew it was a part of getting Kyle to understand, he was not in control in this moment and that was okay. That messing up was okay and sometimes you just can’t help it. She continued to ponder her thoughts and layout some different outfits as she heard a knock on their front door. She quickly went out to greet her visitor and saw that it was Darlene, she totally forgot she was going to come by to talk. She opened the door to welcome her. “Hey there Darlene! I totally spaced that you were coming by, what was it you wanted to talk about?” Karen asked as she greeted her. “Oh you know I just wanted to go over a few things about kids camp, would you mind if we talked outside for a few minutes?” Darlene said a bit timidly but in her usual cheerful tone. “No problem.” Karen said. She was a bit nervous but relieved in the same way, she didn’t know exactly what to expect for Kyle and wanted him to have the best experience possible. They went outside and sat on the front patio bench. Darlene began “So Mrs. Connors just to explain - myself, a lovely girl named Candy and then Mrs. Butterfeld are the main leaders for Little Cubs, which is the under 7 category of kids camp, I run the inside time with Mrs. Butterfeld most days, except today since they had extended outdoor hours.” Karen nodded as she let Darlene continue. “So anyway – I’m pretty experienced with the whole thing and I wanted to chat with you about Kyle to make sure we can get him the best experience possible. You see I saw he had the blue wrist band and the rainbow wristband on today. Honestly, I didn’t even need to see the rainbow wristband, as his diaper was rather obvious when you arrived, and I could tell he had a messy accident earlier…” Karen nodded and was a bit perturbed by her comment but not at all surprised. Darlene went on “I totally am probably stepping outside the lines here but I just want to help make this work. Is it okay if I ask - is Kyle in diapers 24/7?” she asked nervously. Karen nodded her head and responded with a smile, “well you know he has just been having a tough time with the potty lately. Honestly, I don’t know where it came from but the past few weeks we’ve had so many accidents, it was time we did something about it. So I had to put him on a potty training regiment. He is doing okay but as you could see today – he had a pretty serious accident on the way up here.” she said calmly and then continued. “In fact his current program isn’t too far off from what I saw y’all do at Little Cubs. Outside of sleepy time and long trips – he is going to be wearing pull ups. He needs to tell someone when he needs to go and they’ll take him to mark his progress. If he has an accident, he has to go back to diapers for the rest of the day. He’s been on it for a few weeks and I wish I could say he was making more progress.” Karen said. She knew she was fibbing a little about the length of his issues but she didn’t want it to seem like this all happened today. Darlene looked at her with attention nodding her head saying “I see – well bless your heart for your patience. So from what I’m hearing he has been having a lot of accidents? Is he good about letting you know when he needs a new diaper or pull up? Does he ever change his own pull ups or diaper? I just want to understand better…” Darlene said nervously. At this moment, Karen felt she needed to give Darlene a bit more to work with, so she spun the situation the best she could “Well to go further, mentally Kyle is a 100% with it, he is a very smart boy when he puts his mind to things but he has a knack for losing attention. Emotionally, socially and in many ways physically however – he has been a very very late bloomer. In recent months, along with the potty problems. He’s been, well to put it bluntly – showing numerous signs of regression.” Darlene listened attentively as Karen continued “to answer your question, he is not the best at owning up to his accidents and we’ve found that if he is left to his own devices with his padding, we end up with wet and messy pants. That is why I ended up going with a program that was more suited for… well a toddler than a teenager. As things have gone on, Kyle has seemed to become attached to some other regressive behavior and unfortunately yes – he has been having more accidents and been in diapers more frequently the past week or so.” Karen said as she continued to go on. “My friend Candice is a renowned children’s psychologist and my colleague at Dartmouth. She’s been working on a study recently and experimental therapy that she felt would be positive for Kyle. Both from a practical standpoint since he was having potty issues and also from psychological standpoint.” Karen then went on to explain to Darlene the theory behind the treatment and how Kyle’s been responding positively to things the past few days. She didn’t want to divulge that they had just launched this plan. Darlene seemed to grasp her thoughts and was actually really engaged by the discussion and the idea in general. “I know it may all seem a bit odd, but we think it is really the best thing for Kyle” Karen added as she waited for Darlene to respond. “You know Mrs. Connors, I’m really impressed and just touched by how dedicated of a parent you are. Not every mom is willing to go the distance like this and show so much love. Well I’ll tell you what – I’m 100% with you guys on this and will do everything I can to make sure Kyle has the absolute best little baby summer ever!” Darlene said. “aww Darlene that really makes me feel good, I’m so happy somone at Kids Camp is going to be there to look out for Kyle.” Karen said appreciatively. Darlene then said, “So okay, now that we’ve talked and I understand - here is my suggestion. Look I just don’t want Kyle to get teased any more than he might already. I’ll put a stop to any of it the best I can but you know how kids are. To further avoid this, I really don’t think he should be jumping between groups. At least for the first week, I think we should just keep him in little cubs where he is going to be safe. If he is doing good with the potty, then perhaps we can give him a blue wristband and get him in the other activity groups. From everything you told me, it just seems like Little Cubs makes the most sense and we should be able to accommodate him better there. I just don’t want to see him crying on the soccer field with wet pants is all.” Karen nodded her head saying “Darlene that does make a lot of sense. Let me talk to Kyle about it tomorrow. I think you’re right but I need to think about it and let Kyle make a choice on this as well. We’ll see how things evolve tomorrow and go from there. I just feel so much better that you’re aware of my little boys issues and are willing to help take care of him. Thank you so much for coming by to talk.” “Oh of course and that sounds like an awesome plan. Well we look forward to seeing the kidos tomorrow! Feel free to come by the center in the morning if you want to chat before and get him all situated! See you soon!” Darlene answered as she gave Karen a quick hug and skipped off toward her golf cart. Karen walked slowly back in the cabin. She felt a little bad about bending the truth in different direction during their discussion, but she decided she was more honest than not with her. She was so happy that Darlene was on board. Now she just needed to figure out if Kyle was going to be willing to give up all his big boy privileges – that would be a big step and she wasn’t sure she’d be able to convince him on day one. She decided she chat with him about it during bath time but right now she needed to get her little boy up and ready for din din. To Be Continued.

Not one of you understood what he was asking.Read the last 5 words of his post,SO THAT YOU DONT CHAFE.Not soothing the chafing

I was sitting with Kim in my arms. I leaned over to kiss her and suddenly the earth shook. “Wake up sleepy heads,” I heard. I opened my eyes and found Kim’s mother shaking the side of the bed. I heard some vague muttering from down below. It took me a second, but then I remembered I was sleeping in Kim’s room. I had been dreaming. “Time to get up,” Kim’s mother said again. I swung my legs over the side of the bunk and slid down the latter. Kim was now getting to her feet as well. She instinctively headed to the changing table and hopped up. Her mother pulled down the plastic pants and unpinned the diaper. I wasn’t paying attention to what was going on, as I didn’t want to be accused of staring. I heard Kim plead, “No, mom. Do we have to do this today?” “It’s Saturday,” her mother said. I looked over and noticed tubing running into Kim’s diaper area. It ran to a bag of liquid hanging up next to the table. Her mother operated a clamp on the tubing. “Kim always gets an enema on Saturday.” Kim just groaned. Her mother continued. “When she first started wearing diapers again, she held it so much; she got stopped up. Your mother said you had the same problem.” “Yeah, she gave me a suppository.” “She told me. This works well, too,” she explained. “There, all set.” Her mother quickly repined the diaper and pulled the plastic pants back up. “Hop down while I take care of Jason.” Kim got down. She bent her knees, and I knew she was expelling all that liquid into her diaper. I got up on the table. My diaper came down and then what I feared was going to happen came. I felt the tube inserted in my rear. I felt the liquid run in. More and more of it came. I cramped. I didn’t think I could any more when Kim’s mom pulled my diaper back into place and then yanked out the tube. “Swap places with Kim,” she said. I did as I was told. I managed about two steps before the liquid came gushing out. I expelled more of it along with some chunks of solid stool. Yuck. We spent the rest of the day studying for the test and playing games. I was really having a fabulous time with Kim. That night we got our cloth diapers and pajamas for bed. After her mother left, Kim threw her arms around me and kissed me hard. It was electric. We kissed for a long time and then finally I crawled up to the upper bunk. I was lying there thinking just how wonderful things had turned out. I knew that tomorrow, I’d go home, but Kim and I had something special. I felt the bed shake a little and then I realized that Kim had climbed up to my bunk and was snuggling next to me. Contented, I wrapped my arms around her and we snuggled for a while. After a time she kissed me again and climbed down and got into her bunk. “Good night, Jason.” “Good night, Kim.” Sunday morning was just normal diaper changes. Kim’s mother made a big breakfast, bacon, eggs, coffee cake, juice, fruit. It was fabulous. We hung out all day until my parents swung by to pick me up. Mom loaded my stuff into the car and dad drove us home. “So what did you do all weekend?” my mother asked. “Just hung out, mostly,” I said. “We spent some time studying for the toilet training written test. I’m eligible to take it again a week from Tuesday, and Kim is, too.” “So you think you’re going to go into potty training?” my father said. I was a little taken back by that. It seemed to be a given that I’d start training immediately. Mom had bought me training pants already, and I’d be in them if I hadn’t screwed up the test. My mind flashed to Kim’s comments about her mom not signing her off for the permit. “I’m hoping I will as soon as I pass the test. I’ve studied real hard this time.” “We’ll see,” he said. My mother said nothing. The week went by and I was happy as long as I could see Kim from time to time. It wasn’t just having a kindred spirit in diapers, but I was quite attached to her now. We made plans for the weekend. We’d meet up at the mall on Saturday. Saturday morning rolled around. I wanted to get changed, showered, and dressed so I could meet Kim. I hopped out of bed with a wet diaper. Again, I didn’t remember using it. Had I wet in my sleep, or did I just wake up, realize I had the diaper on, and then go back to sleep afterward. My mom popped through the door. “Ready for a change?” “Yes,” I said. I hopped up on the table. I inquired further. “You are going to sign the toilet permit application?” I said, hopefully. “Well, I had assumed that it was just a formality. But after talking with Kim’s mother and your father, he’s not sure you should rush into this.” Not sure? Rush? I was trying to figure out what to say next as my mother balled up the wet diaper and threw it into the covered can, which was now my diaper pail. Rather than putting a clean diaper on me, she told me she’d be right back. I had a few seconds to stew over the permission issue. I had time to work on them. At least I could take the test and get it out of the way. But they just had to let me start training. A moment later, mom came in carrying something that froze me in my thoughts. “Kim’s mother said you had an enema last Saturday,” she announced, holding the bag and hose. “Mom, I don’t need that.” “We think it wouldn’t hurt you.” I sighed in resignation. This wasn’t the battle I wanted to fight. It was more important to get out of diapers entirely. I felt the nozzle invade my rear and the water start in. When finished, Mom taped a new diaper up and yanked the nozzle out. I made it for a few seconds and then flexed my knees and pushed out the watery mess. Several squirts later, I told her I was done and wanted to take a shower.

I went back to class. It felt odd to have the diaper on. I was sure someone would notice, but nobody seemed to mind. The last few periods dragged on. I swung by the nurse and asked for more information about the permit. She told me that I needed to go to the government center to apply for it. The government center was a few blocks from the high school. I remember going there when my friend Walt applied for his learner’s permit to get his driver’s license. When the dismissal bell rang, I made my way down there. I walked into the lobby and stared at the directory. Where do you go for this? Not seeing anything that stood out, I went to the information desk. “I need to know where to go for a permit,” I asked. “Driver’s licenses in room 205,” she said. “Umm, not that kind of permit,” I said. “Well, what kind? Building permit? Hunting permit?” she started listing the choices. “Toilet training,” I said quietly. “Potty permit? At your age?” she chuckled. I nodded sheepishly. “Public health office. Room 304.” I rode the elevator to the third floor. I hoped I’d not have to explain myself again. I went into the room and up to the window. “I need a toilet training permit,” I said quietly. “Fine, can I see your ID?” I slid my card over to her. She put her finger on the hole that was punched into it. “I see you need a new ID either way. Your parent needs to sign for the permit, but if you want, you can take the test now and get it out of the way.” It didn’t even occur to me that I needed parental permission to be potty trained. “Test?” “Yes, twenty questions. Multiple choice.” “I don’t remember that from when I was little.” “It’s only for people who have had their permits revoked.” “Oh.” Well, I didn’t know what it covered, but how hard could it be. I’ll take it, and if I don’t pass, at least I’ll know what to study when I come back with my parent’s signature. I was led to a computer in a little booth, and I started the test. I quickly realized I was over my head. There were questions about the forms of incontinence that I just guessed at. There were questions on anatomy. I knew that kidneys pulled urine out of the blood and went to the bladder, but what were all the tubes called. I guessed again. I went back to the window. “I’m afraid you didn’t pass. Here’s a little book to help you study. You can retake the test in thirty days.” “Thirty days?” “Those are the rules.” I realized I’d blown it. Now I knew I was stuck in diapers for a month, and then I could do whatever the training required. The woman at the window also gave me a form for my mother to sign to bring when I returned. I got home and found a bag of diapers in my size on the kitchen counter, along with a package of pull-ups. I confessed to my mother that I had failed the test and showed her the form to be signed. She just shook her head. “I guess I’ll have to put these away for now,” she said, picking up the pull-ups. “I’ll order a case of diapers for you.” Shortly my father arrived, and he and mom talked while she got dinner ready. We sat down for dinner. After a short time, my father said, “We were hoping we could get you into training right away, but you messed that up. Had got your learner’s permit, we could let you use the toilet at home in the name of training. As it is, you’re going to have to use your diaper for the time being, at home and school.” I swallowed hard. I was hoping the diapers were only going to be needed at school. I also realized that I had not peed since this all started, and I had to go. I stood up and put my dishes in the sink, and then stood there. It took a second to get it started, but I wet the diaper. I felt the warmth spread across my middle, and then the diaper began to sag a bit. Mom came up and put her hand on my shoulder. “Did you just go?” I nodded. “You used to get that same look on your face when you were a baby.” I felt about two years old when she said that. “Come upstairs, and I’ll change your diaper.”

What is luvs, baby don't hurt me, don't hurt me, no more.

I did just find this medical Study: https://www.rehab.research.va.gov/jour/08/45/4/orris.html I'm not sure if someone already posted it but it seams to be an medical stent. I did not find any further information but maybe it's possible to reconstruct that design.

Right” said Poppy “you lay down on the bed and let your new Mummies take care of you” “And remember, no talking, no arguments and no resisting” added Lola With my marriage on the line I was nt going to argue at all, this I thought was payback time, the point of which I was going to pay for my one indiscretion. As I lay prone on the bed Poppy and Lola went to work removing my clothing, they took a leg each and removed my trainers and socks, Poppy then undid the button to my jeans and asked me to lift my bottom from the bed. In an instant they both tugged my jeans off. Poppy then asked me to sit up, when I did my jumper was pulled over my head. Next came my polo shirt and I was told to lay back down, naked but for my underpants. At this point Lola left my side and went to a trunk at the far end of the room. Poppy stroked my hair whispering what a good boy I was. Lola returned with a handful of bits that I could nt quite make out and placed them on the floor by the side of the bed. “So this is the start baby, be a good boy and lift your bum again for me” I did as instructed and when Poppy finished talking she eased down my underwear. Instinctively I reached to cover my private parts and my hands were stung by a sharp slap from Lola “Now now baby, please leave your hands by your side. It’s not as if you have anything to hide from your Mummies” I replaced my arms by my sides and closed my eyes as I listened to the conversation between Poppy and Lola. “I think we need to roll it up to get rid of the folds” “Okay, give it here” I heard a distinct rustling, and both ladies giggled. “That looks good” “Lift up your bottom again please baby” As I did so I felt a thick object sliding underneath me, once in place I was asked to lay prone again. “Right, powder next” and I felt a cold dust being sprinkled on my nether regions. With my eyes still closed I could nt see who’s hands they were but the powder was stroked around my genitalia. If I had nt have been so subdued it might have even been a pleasant experience. “Right” said Lola “I’ve read you be got to do the bottom tapes first and then the top two” “Like this?” Poppy answered as I felt the padded garment pull in tight to my lower body and adhesive strips being pulled. “Looks good to me” said Lola “Now the plastic pants” “I got these from a shop online, it’s amazing the baby stuff they sell for adults” I heard a shaking out of the plastic underwear. One after the other my feet were lifted and fed through the leg holes of the pants. “These are quite tight” said Poppy as she worked the protective baby wear up my legs “They have to be to keep contained any leaks that might occur” Lola countered. It was only at this point that it dawned on me that this was nt a joke and by the end of the evening my ‘mummies’ would have expected me to wet myself I started to squirm which was met with a sharp word from Poppy “Keep still baby, now lift your bum bum a little so I can get your baby pants on over your thick nappy” I did what I was told and felt the pants being heaved over my padded backside. “Good baby” “Now stand up please so I can see how my first attempt at a nappy went” Poppy said. I stood up as requested and the first thing I felt was how wide the thick nappy forced my legs apart” “Good job Mummy Poppy” said Lola. “Thanks” Poppy said “You get the joy of the first nappy change Mummy Lola” I opened my eyes for the first time in a while and after I recovered from the lights in the room I looked at myself in the full length mirror on the back of the room door. With my mouth gaping open I saw looking back at me a man dressed like a little baby. The white plastic nappy covers had little blue cars on them and they were badly concealing a thick white disposable. My Mummies joined me, one either side, and looked into the mirror too. “I knew you’d make such a cute little baby” Poppy whispered in my ear. “We’re not finished yet baby” Lola whispered in my other ear. “There’s more to come” With that both Poppy and Lola giggled to each other

Pt2 Saturday morning I was a bit subdued, I knew that the following few hours would change my life forever. I’d spent half a year avoiding spending any time alone in Lola’s company and now it was going to be a daily occurrence. I knew the knock on the door was coming but it did nt stop me from jumping out of my skin. After a brief hello I went to help unload the small van outside. Lola did nt have much apart from a lot of suitcases and a few ornaments, but then what more did she need? She was joining us in the marital home, sleeping in the guest bedroom with the on suite bathroom and our home was fully furnished. Once Lola’s bits were placed in her room Poppy suggested we all sit down in the lounge and discuss how this was going to work. “So welcome Lola” Poppy started “I’m happy to have you here, we are both here to help you with the baby when he or she arrives and up until that point can assist you in any way you need.” Poppy looked at me and I nodded my head in agreement. “Thanks Sweetie” Lola replied, “It’s fantastic to be able to share this with you and hopefully we can take the next three months preparing for the tough job of looking after a helpless baby” Poppy who was sat next to me on the bigger of the two sofas turned her body towards me and reached for my hand. “Dan, this will be the first baby that myself and Lola have ever taken charge of, we’ve talked a lot about the worries we have regarding the task ahead and have come up with a plan that you can help us with” I could see Lola grin and a shiver crept down my spine. “Have you heard the phrase ‘practice makes perfect?’ Lola asked. Of course I had, and nodded my head silently. “Well” continued Poppy “our idea is that we have a guinea pig to practice our mothering skills on” “There are a lot of things we need to learn and having someone to try things with will help with the new born” Lola added with a grin Poppy gripped my hand tighter “ this is where you come in Dan” A quizzical Look must have come across my face “You want me to go buy a child’s baby doll to work with?” “No Dan” Poppy interrupted “A doll is just not life like enough” Lola smiled again “we need something more closer to the real thing, something that will eat, sleep and generally be as much like a baby as we can” Now I don’t consider myself slow on the uptake but I still could nt see where the conversation was going. “Short of a quick fostering I’m not sure what we can do” “There is another way” Poppy answered With my brain still not in gear I stood up “if your considering kidnapping a baby I’m sorry I’ll have no part in that” Both the ladies laughed. Poppy beckoned me to sit down and held my hand again. “Don’t be silly Dan, we’ll do nothing illegal” “I’ve, well we’ve decided that you’re going to be our baby” As a confused look crossed my face Lola got up and made the short journey to sit the other side of me on the sofa. “You see, your baby is going to get the best care ever and the reason that is is because I’ll be a fully practiced mother” “Three or so months of taking care of you will make me so” I still had so many questions on how they expected a grown man could help the both of them prepare for an infant but Poppy then Lola both got up and requested I stand too. “I’m sure you have many queries of how this is going to work” Poppy said obviously reading my confused face. “ Come with us upstairs” Lola interjected “over the last fortnight your wife and I have been working on a rule list, let’s go to the small bedroom together where we can explain everything”