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Chapter 15 There was no clock in the nursery, so Danny did not know what time it was, but he did not care. At that moment he also did not care about the state of his diaper being the most disgusting thing he had ever felt. All he could focus on was the terrible pain his leg was in. It was bad enough to wake him from his slumber. He did not want to ask either of his new caregivers for help. He refused to be reliant on anyone. He was able to get out of the blankets that Mama had loosely swaddled him in. He tried to go back to sleep but with nothing else to think about the pain just seemed to get worse. He thought he was being a wimp to himself. He thought he could take a whole lot more punishment back in his dimension. He decided he had to do something. Immediately when he tried to move, he shifted his weight onto his right side and bad leg without thinking. The pain became even more intense. He could not help but yell out in pain. Angela could sleep through an earthquake normally but today she was sleeping light and heard Danny’s scream. Ashley was also woken by the screams as she was a light sleeper. “He sounds like he is really hurt,” Angela said as she jumped out of bed. Ashley looked at the clock, it was the middle of the night, and she realized the problem. “Damn, his pain medicine has worn off.” “Oh no, the poor little guy. Can you get his pain meds ready?” “Sure,” Ashley responded. “I do not want that medicine going into an empty stomach though. A bottle is probably enough.” “Grab one of the small ice cream cups in the freezer just to be sure,” Angela suggested, “and a bottle from the fridge while you are making his medicines. I am going to check on him.” With that Angela left the bedroom and went across the hall to the nursery. She saw Danny curled into a ball, holding his knee. “Danny,” Mama Angela cooed, “I am sorry Mommy Ashley and me should have planned better. We are going to put something in your tummy so we can give you pain meds.” “I’m fine,” Danny said while wincing. He was in agony but he did not want to accept that he needed anything from the amazons. “No, you are not,” Mama Angela stated. With how Danny had been so far he would be complaining far more about the messy diaper if he was okay. “You do not have to act so tough and strong around me. You are clearly hurting please let us help you. Mommy Ashley is going to give you some more pain medicine and get you right back to sleep.” Danny stayed quiet, Mama Angela assumed it was because he did not want to admit she was correct but was in too much pain to argue and fight with her about it. Mama Angela hated seeing Danny in so much pain. She was looking forward to when he recovered even though it would create some new challenges. Ashley walked in with the medicine, ice cream and bottle that her partner had asked her to bring. Mama Angela picked Danny up and propped him on the changing table with his back against the wall. “Open wide Danny,” she stated as she scooped up a little sized bite of the ice cream. Danny complied. Mama would have loved to savor the moment and play with Danny while feeding him, but she knew it was not the right time. Danny was only doing as she asked because he was hurting. She fed him as quickly as she could before giving him half of the bottle. “Ok,” Mama Angela said. “I think he is ready to take his medications.” Then Ashley gave him three medications. Mama Angela then fed him the rest of the bottle and Danny feel back asleep quickly. Mama Angela quickly changed him out of his messy diaper and carried him back to his crib. She gently swaddled him again making it a little tighter than she did earlier. Then the couple exited the nursery. “What was the third medicine you gave him?” Angela asked. “It was the sedative,” Ashley said. “I want to go back to bed, and he needs sleep to help his body heal.” “Good idea,” Angela said. “Remind me when we get back up, I need to run to the store and pick a few things up.” “What do we need?” Ashley asked. They had been to the grocery store just a few days ago. “Food for Danny,” Angela replied. “Ok,” Ashley replied getting back into bed. Angela woke up and looked to see it was 9 am. She saw her partner still asleep and quietly got out of bed, being careful not to disturb her wife. Angela went straight into the nursery. Danny was out cold. She quickly showered then got dressed for the day when she got an idea. She thought about risk, but she decided that if it could help both Danny and her wife it was worth it. She grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. Ashley woke up at 10:15 to see her wife was no longer in bed. She wondered if Danny was awake when she went downstairs and saw no sign of her wife but noticed a note on the kitchen table. She picked it up and immediately was shocked. Ashley, I went to the grocery store to get a few things for Danny. I should be home before he wakes up but if I am not there are some bottles in the fridge for him and there is yogurt if he is hungry for breakfast. -Love you, Angela Ashley thought that Angela intended to be home before Danny awoke but she doubted Angela would be. When Angela went shopping alone with a small list it usually took her twice as long as Ashley expected and would come back with far more than was on the list. Ashley also knew Angela has been spoiling Danny rotten so she will probably go even further overboard then normal. That meant that Ashley would spend more alone time then she intended with Danny. Ashley checked on him in the nursery. Luckily, he was still asleep. Maybe, with the sedative, Angela would be home before Danny woke up. She got up, took a quick shower, got dressed, and went downstairs and began reading. She enjoyed the idea of time off but still felt like she abandoned her coworkers and patients who might need her. She continued reading until she heard a groan over the baby monitor. She hoped he was still asleep, but it became clear Danny was waking up. Angela needs to get home soon was Ashley’s only thought as she went to get him.

Chapter 37: True Colours Thief in Service - by LittleFallenPrincess As soon as I heard footsteps heading down, I looked over to Naomi, who was still bound in the crib. “Mimi...?” She was crying when she looked over at me. “I’m sorry Paige. I didn’t want to come here... I just... Tony said...” “Shh. It’s okay. I understand. And I’m sorry for getting you caught up in all this.” “It’s not your fault! Ignore whatever Christian has been telling you, it’s not your fault. Tony was pissed after your... whatever she is... kicked his thug’s butts. He threatened us all. Christian has been complaining ever since.” Mimi’s voice quivered as tears continued falling down her cheek. “When did he threaten you?” I asked. “Not long after the incident here apparently. Christian has been waiting for a while though, planning to break in. But your... sorry, I have to ask, what is she anyway?” “Who? Alex? She’s my girlfriend.” Mimi’s face lit up, as if the current situation wasn’t even an issue anymore. “OH PAIGE! I know it’s not the time, but I’m so happy for you!” “Thanks Mi.” I smiled at her. “Anyway, your girlfriend hasn’t been out of the building in weeks. When Christian noticed she left today, he put his plan into motion and stormed the place. I wish I could have told you... but...” “But if you were caught, Tony would have had your head. Or worse.” “Exactly. Please forgive me! I’m so sorry! I don’t care if you’re into all this weird stuff! And... you do look kinda cute... just... please don’t hate me!” “Mimi... I could never hate you. You’re my best friend. I love you!” I wasn’t lying. I couldn’t hate her. I’m pretty damn sure it’s impossible to hate her. She’s just too nice. Hating her would be akin to kicking a puppy... “I love you too! So...” She dragged it out, obviously trying to lead to something else. “So?” “So... what are we going to do? I’m stuck in this crib, you’re stuck in there. Gotta say though... these nappies are quite comfortable...” I blushed a bit, I never thought my best friend would be talking about how comfortable the nappy she is wearing is. “I don’t know. I can’t overpower Christian or Emily, both are much stronger than me. Jack... maybe, but even then, there’s no point.” “What’s in her vault?” Mimi asked. “No idea. She never told me about any vault. I knew the first floor was storage for all her collections, but I never saw a vault. Anyway, I think our best bet is to wait and see what happens.” “When is your girlfriend returning?” “Don’t know. She’s at a business meeting, I don’t know when it finishes, she only told me she’d be back tonight.” “So no rescue, no way out... we’re screwed, Paige.” Mimi’s face dropped. “Just wait. I’ll think of something.” I replied. ------------------------------------------------- Looking at the pink clock on the wall, the one with little babyish cartoons on it, an hour had passed and by now I really needed to pee... again. And by the way Naomi was squirming, she wasn’t far behind me. We had spent the past hour talking about Alex. A little about some of the kinks I had... ‘discovered’ whilst with her. A bit about our date on bonfire night. How happy I was. And from her expression, I could see Naomi was really happy for me, she couldn’t stop smiling. But just as I was telling her about how I broke in that final time to give Alex the note, the nursery door opened and in walked Christian. “Right, so that’s everything downstairs ready to ship. The vault should be open in no time. Time for you two... although...” He grinned. “Although what? You little fuck!” I shouted at him. “I’ve warned you time and time again, that mouth on you is going to get you in trouble. So why don’t I show you just how. I’ve had enough of you, Paige.” Christian stormed over to me, undoing the restraints and removing the tray. I tried struggling free, I tried getting away from him... but he was too strong. Picking me up, he fireman-carried me out of the nursery, closing the door behind him. “WHERE ARE YOU TAKING HER?” Naomi yelled from the crib. Christian ignored her and walked across the hallway, into the dungeon, with me still over his shoulder. “You want to be a brat? You want to talk back to me all the time? You want to make me look bad in front of everyone?” Settling me down on the floor, he quickly pushed me over the spanking bench before I could try to run. Tying me to the bench by my legs and wrists, he paced around a bit before deciding what to do. My maid uniform tore a bit as he pulled it up, exposing my nappy. It must have caught on one of his rings or something. “You are so fucking pathetic. Look at you, wearing a nappy, acting like a fucking maid. You degenerate piece of shit.” I had never heard him talk like this before. “FUCK Y...” I shouted. Before I could finish that sentence, he shoved a ball gag in my mouth and wrapped it around the back of my head, tying it quickly. “You want all this shit? You want to be spanked and babied and humiliated? Freak! I’ll give you what you want!” I couldn’t believe this was the Christian I thought I knew. Turns out he was a lot worse than I thought. I thought he was just a dick, but now I see that he’s much worse. “What to use... what to use...” I looked back to see him scanning the selection of spanking implements hanging on the wall. “This one has lots of little tassles... that would hurt. A paddle? I’m sure a hit from me would have you limping for a week. How about... oh yes. This one. This will teach you a lesson.” Pulling a cane off the wall, he walked back over. Before I could brace myself for the impact, he whipped the back of my thighs with no warning. And oh my god, it hurt. I wasn’t expecting it, my body didn’t have time to react. At least for the following smacks, I was able to brace myself, not that it did much good, it still hurt more than anything I had ever endured with Alex. More than anything I had ever endured. We had tried paddles, bare hands, even the flogger. But never the cane. She had told me we’d need to work up to that, and now... now I understood why. I cried out into the gag, but it muffled most of it. “How does that feel? You little freak. I bet you’re wet at this. Not that you’d tell... that nappy is soaked.” He whipped the back of my nappy, and thankfully the padding absorbed most of the impact, so I barely felt anything. But he must have seen how little an effect it had on me, because he grabbed the back of my nappy and pulled it down, exposing my bare butt. I braced for impact. However... it was futile. There was no bracing for a hit like this. The crack in the air was followed by a banshee wail as I cried into the gag, pain coursing through me. And again. And again. He got to about five hits, and then stopped all of a sudden. “Yeah? What is it?” he said. I tried looking back to see who he was talking to, but I hadn’t heard anyone come up the stairs or enter the room. ‘Must be on comms...’ I thought to myself. “Fine. I’ll be down in a minute.” Christian walked around the spanking bench and bent down to look me in the eyes. “You’re lucky. We found the vault and Jack’s nearly got it open. I’ll be back soon...” Dropping the cane on the floor, Christian walked off, leaving me tied to the bench, tears still running down my cheeks. ‘What. The actual. Fuck.’ I thought as the pain started to subside, albeit not much. I couldn’t move, I couldn’t talk, my bare arse was on display for anyone who walked in... I was completely helpless. I had no idea how to get out of this situation, the only thing I could think of was to wait until Alex returned. No doubt she’d be back in time to save me... and after seeing what she could do to those massive guys who work for Tony... Emily and Christian would be nothing to her. I’d need to rescue Mimi too, she’s probably scared half to death inside that crib, and she’s no doubt had to use the nappy by now. All I could do for now though... was wait. There was no way off this spanking bench, no way I’d be able to get free or do anything... But then that got me thinking... ‘What about the vault? What was so priceless that Alex needed to lock it away like that? And another thing... where is this vault?’ Thoughts kept swirling around my head, anxiety was building up, making me feel worse and worse every passing minute. I couldn’t hear anything from here, other than the occasional crying from Naomi from the nursery. But then I spotted it. My hope. My ticket out of here. My escape. My eyes had examined every inch of the limited view I had, but just underneath the dresser by the door... I could see something I thought I had lost a long time ago. It must have fell out of my pocket that first time I broke in here, when she knocked me out by the nursery, and it must have slid under there. My tools. It was just a few simple picks and tension wrenches, but I knew without a doubt that I could get myself free from these restraints with them. I thought my stuff was lost to me on the multiple attempts to steal the statue from Alex, and by the time I ended up moving in... I had given up that life and completely forgotten about everything, including the things Alex had taken from me on each attempt. But this simple set of tools must have been thrown free as I was knocked out that first time. Now all I had to do... was get to them. I thought long and hard about how I was going to do this. I could try and tip the spanking bench over. No doubt I could do it, with enough momentum... but it’s going to hurt. So I looked around for other options. Problem was... I couldn’t see any. Maybe if the cane was closer, I could have used that somehow, but the cane was on the opposite side of me. There was no way of getting to my tools unless I toppled this bench. For ten minutes or so, I tried psyching myself up to do it, but I couldn’t. I knew how much it was going to hurt, and that’s not even taking into account the fact that it would make a decent amount of noise, no doubt. It may not give me the time needed to pick the locks on these restraints. Especially as I’d have to somehow find a way to pick them one handed. At an angle. The more and more I thought about the potential problems, the more and more I backed away from the idea. ‘Maybe Alex will save me. She’ll arrive just in time, save me, kick their arses, job done. I won’t need to risk breaking my arms just to get some silly tools...’ Another five minutes passed. ‘The crew downstairs must be in the vault by now... surely. They’re probably filling their bags with whatever valuables they can get their hands on in there.’ By this point, I had resigned myself to waiting for Alex to rescue me. If she didn’t... well I didn’t want to think about that outcome, so I focused on the only outcome I could handle, her saving me. But as I took a deep breath... Panic set in instantly. My breathing sped up. My body began to shake. I knew that smell. I know what followed it. Fire. Flashbacks back to the car accident when I was a kid flooded my mind. Watching from the side of the road as the car burst into flames, my parents inside, dead already from the impact. The burning smell permanently etched in my brain for the rest of my life. I snapped back to the present, tears rolling down my cheeks once more. I needed to act. I needed to get free. Pushing past the fear, I rocked side to side whilst still tied to the bench, causing it to rock with me, gently. As the momentum built up, the bench’s legs started lifting off the ground. I had one chance. If I rocked the wrong way... I’d be screwed. So I focused, rocking side to side, gently balancing the thing so it didn’t fall over until I was ready for it to do so. 1... 2... “NOW!” I screamed through the gag, pushing all my weight to one side, causing the bench to topple over to its side. I slammed against the floor, and just as I predicted, I was pretty sure my arm was broken. Or at least dislocated. I was in an unbelievable amount of pain, my hand was shaking, and my breathing hastened. But I was on my side, on the floor. And within reaching distance... were my tools. Using what little freedom of movement I had with my feet, I grabbed my little pouch of tools and swung them up, sliding them across the floor to my hand, where I grabbed them. ‘Now the hard part...’ ========================================================== So Thief in Service finished on my Patreon. First chapter of Book 5 is out now on there too (it'll be posted here in two weeks time). Also, quick word of advice: If you haven't read all 4 of my books by the time Book 5 releases... I'd advise to do so. You need to have read all four before starting the fifth. Otherwise you won't understand a lot of what's going on. I hope everyone enjoys this story as it goes on! 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 whole of Thief in Service is available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You also get two weeks early access to my fifth book, currently being posted there twice weekly. New chapters of Thief in Service every Monday/Wednesday/Friday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks! ?

Scene #158 Inspired by a real brush. ____________________ The mail arrived. That is literally all that happened. Mary was the one who went and got it. I merely walked in the kitchen to see if my mail-order medicine had arrived. And what did I find? I found Mary, standing over a torn Amazon delivery bag, smiling like she’d gotten a present she’d always wanted, and she was tapping that present into her palm with a wistful look plastered to her face. I saw that present, a hairbrush that at a glance I could tell was a weapon of ass destruction, and I said to myself, Get thee behind me, Satan! Not today! I did an about face sharp enough to make the Marines proud and was halfway into taking giant steps the hell outta there as speedily as that time I walked in on my parents. But the commandant I married ordered me to, “Stay.” “But I didn’t do anything,” I whined liked the whiniest person who ever whined when they were whining (which I had every right to). Slumped shoulders, defeated expression, gaping frown, barely holding my torso upright as I spun around and shuffled toward her cuz I’m a good girl (a very good girl!) who does what she’s told (most of the tine). Any sane person would’ve been running down the block knocking over trashcans to slow their pursuer. “I didn’t say you did anything,” my Mary who is mean to me said as she took me by my upper arm and tugged me toward the kitchen table. Dragging my feet would be an understatement; I had them firmly planted on the floor and was gliding along on my socks (stupid collaborationist socks!). She turned a chair around and sat down in it. “But I don’t wanna spanking,” I said – no, declared! With fist clenching, foot stomping, and all the pouting I could muster. You don’t fight a brush like that. You just try to make it feel sorry for you. But some brushes are pitiless. “And I’m not going to spank you.” Wait, really? No; not really. She yoinked me off my feet and over her knee. “You said …” “Just as soon as I’m done spanking, I’m not going to spank.” SPANK. “Ouch! That hurts!” “I was hoping for that.” Spank spank spank spank spank spank spank. “Marrry! This isn’t fair!” “It’s very unfair, you silly goose.” Spank spank spank spank spank spank spank. “Let’s get these down.” “No!” Spank spank spank spank spank spank spank. “Eeeeeeee! Stop! It hurts!” “It’ll hurt (SPANK) less if you hold (SPANK) still.” Spank spank spank spank spank spank spank. That is specious reasoning, which is why while she was busy spanking, I was busy trying to freestyle medley my way off her lap. I mean, how much more could face planting onto the kitchen floor hurt than that brush? “And these too.” “NO! NOT BARE! MAR-EEEEEEEEEE!” “Of course (SPANK!) bare.” Spank spank spank spank spank spank spank! “So mee-hee-hee-ean.” “Very mean.” Spank spank spank spank spank spank spank! “Wuhaa-aaa-aaa.” Spank! spank! spank! “There. Look at me.” Fine! Fine I will! I’ll look at her, and she can see what she did! She reached over and wiped a tear off my face, making one of her trademark o-really faces and rubbing the teardrop between her forefinger and thumb. Yeah! Really! “Daphne, this is a real tear.” “Of course it’s real you (stampeding of victimized vicuñas) and (bleats of innocent ibexes) and (lamentations of oppressed submissives everywhere) and just mean! Mean! (Wounded wookie)!” SPANK! “All done?” “ … MEEEAAAANN!!!!” SPANK! “Hmmph!” “Now you’re done.” What can I say? The woman knows me; I was done. “Sit up.” She helped me sit up, but I was having none of it. I was on my feet and rubbing my butt and scowling at her something fierce. I was fierce! I AM fierce! Grrrr!!! And stuff too, cuz hell hath no fury like a bottom scorched. “Daffy …” “No! No, Mary! Bad Mary!” She started to get up. “No! You stay for a change!” And I’ll tell you what I did next. Just to show her I won’t put up with her shenanigans and raw exercises of domme power, that there are consequences for her actions just like she’s always telling me there are for mine! I sat down in her lap, put my cheek against her chest, and held onto her like a koala to her favorite tree. That’ll show her. That’ll show her good! Mary with the demon brush and the … soft kisses on my hair and fingertips going up and down my back and palm patting my newly spanked bare bottom. “No one does histrionics like you, Daffodil.” “I’ll histrionic you,” I softly bellowed back while wiping my nose on her shirt. “Ha!” “That thing heccin hurts!” “The reviews said it would. I thought you were gonna swim right off my lap.” “What reviews? It came from Amazon.” “The reviews on Amazon.” “The reviews on Amazon are about spanking?” “Mhmm. You wanna read them later?” “ … Yes.” “You wanna go upstairs and lemme rub lotion on your butt?” “Mhmm.” “Up you go.” “Can I return that brush tomorrow,” I asked because reasons. “No, sweetie. It’s going to live on the end table in the living room.” “What!?!” “It’s perfect for quick, on-the-spot corrections. You’ll be glad it’s always in reach. Just think of how well behaved you’ll be. Won’t that feel good?” “No! Can we at least keep it in a drawer? It’s gonna give me nightmares.” “My little drama princess.” “Meanest queen ever.” “Love you.” “Love you back.”

So, endings are hard. On the one hand, I'm very pleased with being able to see this story through to its conclusion and happy that I successfully navigated the winding road of insanity that the story was to wrap things up in a way that is true to the concept I began with. On the other hand, I'm my own worst critic and I feel like we got here very quickly given all the moving parts of the story. I could've stretched it but the fear of repetition and staleness was always at the forefront of my mind when writing this, and this feels like the right time and right way to close things out. I hope you've enjoyed this story, I know I did. If you're interested in reading other things I've written you can check out the ongoing Chaotic Infantile, the one shot Allowance, another one shot Closure, the small short That's My Fetish, and another one shot Tick. Tock. Let me know what you think about this story, good, bad or indifferent, and I'll see you again with another story at some point. XVII “Correction” I sighed with relief once I’d gotten inside, making a beeline to the bathroom to relieve my aching bladder. I’d ditched my soiled diaper in the airport restroom, cleaning myself as best as possible with toilet paper, sneaking to the sink with my pants around my ankles to get the wads of tissue damp to better clean up my mess. I’d used the toilet on the plane twice, but still felt about to burst by the time I’d reached my lab, the driver of my ride share looking at me suspiciously as I bounced my leg in the backseat. Stripping once I’d finished peeing, I hurried to my bedroom area and got out a diaper and felt immediately better once I was padded once again. Not bothering to get dressed any further than that, I made my way to the machine and booted up the computer. I’d worked out a plan I’d hoped would work on the flight home, and now I was just anxious to actually try and get it working. The plan simply boiled down to “I remember Katie, the machine allows me to access memories and manipulate them, I go in and get Katie and bring her back.”, simple and to the point. I typed the parameters of what I wanted into the program, designating the day and approximate time and submitted it, clicking through the warnings that popped up before getting settled in the chair and setting up the headpiece before I closed my eyes and said a silent prayer. ********* Once the disorientation subsided, I opened my eyes and felt my heart skip a beat as I saw Katie kneeling in front of me in the hospital room before my surgery. I sat up and practically lunged at her, hugging her tightly and peppering her face with kisses. “What has gotten into you?!” she asked, her voice full of the smile on her face. I told her everything that had happened after my surgery, sharing the details of our playground adventure in enough detail to let her know I wasn’t making it up for some reason. “I turned into a baby after your surgery?” she asked. “Not a real baby, just a big baby, but yeah, you were all baby talk and everything.” I confirmed. She looked at me. “And you came here to try and stop that from happening?” she asked. I shrugged. “It’s already happened, you’re gone from my head as far as I can tell, but the memory of you is still there and maybe that means you are too.” I said hopefully. She chuckled nervously. “If I were alive, I’d have a headache trying to understand all of this.” she confessed. I sighed and nodded. “Look, if even a tiny part of you is still in my head, all we need to do is get you to speak up, show yourself.” I said. “I don’t know, Lina, it doesn’t sound like a great plan.” she said glumly. I cupped her cheeks with my hands and kissed her deeply. “I’m in love with you.” I said. “If there’s even a chance I can rescue you and bring you back into my life, I’m doing it.” I explained. She closed her eyes and nodded. “Let me see if I’m even still in there.” she said. Nothing happened for a long time, we both sat in complete silence on the floor beside the bed, her steady breathing, quite the feat for a dead girl, calming me and bringing my own breathing into a relaxed pace. “There!” she said suddenly, startling me. “I’m stuck in,” she paused, furrowing her brow, “it looks like a school.” she said. “There’s a lady, she’s really tall and smells like mothballs.” she explained. “Mrs. Hall.” I said. “Kindergarten teacher.” I added. Katie nodded. “She’s yelling at me for,” she paused again, “something. I can’t make it out.” she explained. “I think you’re one of my memories from Kindergarten.” I said. “If I’m right, she’s yelling at you for wetting yourself on the playground and threatening to send you back to nursery school.” I said, shuddering softly at the memory only to have the hospital dissolve around me to reveal my Kindergarten classroom, Katie in the naughty corner sucking her thumb while Mrs. Hall berated her. The real Mrs. Hall was a spindly older woman, the kind of teacher from an era of paddling and burying you up to your neck in the ground to have ants swarm you, a stiff breeze could’ve knocked her over, but to a five year old in wet pants, she was a monster to be feared. The Mrs. Hall berating Katie was the embodiment of said monster, her legs and arms too long, the varicose veins visible above her drooping pantyhose looking like throbbing snakes that writhed up her bony legs. Her hands were as thin as an old tree’s branches as the pointed at Katie with one gnarled finger and tapped the decaying and splintered nails of the other hand on her desk. “Katie!” I cried out. Mrs. Hall snapped her head to the side with a sickening crunching sound and hissed at me, her yellowed teeth like moldering tombstones within her disgusting mouth. “Another brat that belongs in diapers?” she croaked, her voice as dry and desiccated as the peeling skin on her face. “Fuck you!” I screamed as I hurried over to Katie. Katie was still dressed like a baby, her diaper unfathomably full as she whimpered and sobbed in the naughty corner in a fetal position, the pacifier in her mouth frantically bobbing away as she sucked feverishly to calm herself. I knelt down beside her and looped my arm around hers to pull her up, looking up just in time to see Mrs. Hall’s bony hand rushing at my head, connecting with my temple and sending me flying across the room into the cubbies on the back wall, the wood splintering beneath me as I lay dazed in a heap. Katie crawled toward me as fast as she could, but the waistband of her diaper was pinched between Mrs. Hall’s nails and Katie was lifted up as though she weighed nothing, hanging by her diapered wedgie as the monstrous woman pulled her back and held her in front of her face. “Wretched child.” the monster spat. I sat up slowly, my vision struggling to focus as I rose to my knees and shakily to my feet after that. I looked around for something to defend myself with, grabbing the pointer stick from the chalk tray beside me and staggering over to the beastly woman. “Hey!” I shouted. She looked at me slowly, growling down at me from her immense height. “What do you want?!” she hissed. I lunged forward and thrust the pointer up toward the space above her deflated, pendulous breasts, tumbling to the floor beneath her as the sounds of anguish and pain shook the room. Mrs. Hall staggered backward, the stick hanging from her chest, inky black goo pouring from her wound as she shrieked and groaned, her fingers letting go of Katie’s diaper. Katie fell and landed on top of me as though she were a feather on the breeze. The heft and discoloration of her diaper disappeared and returned to pristine whiteness as the classroom dissolved along with Mrs. Hall. Her clothes reverted to her normal adult attire gradually until she was as normal looking as the hospital room we were now back in. “You saved me.” she said softly as she climbed off me, helping me to my feet as she rose. I nodded, my aches and pains from fighting Mrs. Hall gone. “You sound surprised.” I said. She hugged me tightly. “Not surprised, just grateful.” she said. ********* I opened my eyes slowly and smiled at the sight of Katie standing beside me, holding my hand tightly, letting go to help remove the headpiece of the machine and taking my hand again to help me stand up. “You actually did it.” she said in disbelief. “I thought I’d be stuck in that horrible place forever.” she admitted. I hugged her tightly. “That was step one.” I said. “How many steps does this plan have?” she asked. I shook my head. “Tomorrow.” I said weakly. “Tonight, I just want to be with you.” I told her. She hugged me back and then parted our embrace. “I’m in love with you too.” she said. Our kiss was electric, and she was undressing herself as we backed our way to the bedroom area, her turning to push me onto the bed once we neared it, slipping out of her pants and panties once she’d kicked her shoes off, using her big toes to peel her socks from her feet before she climbed onto the bed and perched atop me mid crawl. Words ceased to exist for us, we conveyed our emotions, our passions, our desires in grunts and moans, teasing and satisfying one another in equal measure for a time that seemed to stretch on infinitely but also seemed to last for a fraction of a second. By the end of it we were slick with sweat and the results of our passion, my diaper lay open on the floor, yellowed and sticky from the first round of our epic union. We lay entwined atop the blankets, Katie propped up on one elbow as she delicately traced her finger over my bare stomach and chest. “Life really isn’t all that fair, is it?” she asked. I shook my head. “Not really, no.” I told her, turning onto my side and raising my leg up between hers as I draped my arm over the hump of her bare hip. “Will your plan fix this if it works?” she asked. I nodded softly and yawned. “If it works, we’ll all live happily ever after.” I told her, looking up and kissing her softly on the lips, nothing but pure love coursing from my lips to hers. She yawned a moment later. “Go get me a diaper so you don’t wet the bed.” she gently coaxed. I shook my head. “I’ve got to take care of something really quick, you get comfortable under the covers and I’ll join you when I’m done.” I said. She pouted. “Not too long, the bed will be cold without my girl.” she said, smacking my bare behind playfully as I got up before she moved from atop the covers to beneath them. I watched her for a moment, her eyes closed as she almost instantly fell asleep, my desire for her to do so guiding her actions as a construct in my mind. I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, feeling my throat tightening as my emotions began to bubble to the surface with the knowledge of what I was doing. How I must’ve looked, sitting naked at my desk, sobbing as I wrote my letters, starting over and cursing softly to myself when my tears dripped onto the paper. I couldn’t look at Katie without crying, I couldn’t think of Tim without crying, I couldn’t think of what I was about to do without crying, so I spent an inordinate amount of time crying until finally both letters were sealed in their respective envelopes and I typed away on the computer the exact details of what I wanted, triple checking everything before locking it in, tapping each of the warnings away like a car careening through barriers on a shut down highway. With a heavy sigh and a final look at Katie I took my seat on the chair and affixed the headpiece for the last time. ********* My eyes fluttered open slowly and I groaned as I sat up, the headpiece pulling off of me and clattering to the floor. My head throbbed and nothing mattered to me more than making that go away. I put my hand down on the chair to push myself up and felt paper rather than leather. Looking down, I saw an envelope with ‘Katie’ written on it, the dot above the ‘i’ replaced with a heart. I picked it up and opened it, pulling the single sheet of folded paper out to read it. “Dearest Katie, If you’re reading this then I’ve succeeded in bringing you back to life which means that you’re reading this with my eyes. I’m not God, I’m a scientist, and the science of all of this meant that if you could be in my head we could switch places. My body and your mind, Tim won’t know what to do with himself. I’m not sure this will work exactly how it did before, but if it does then you should be able to see me once I get my bearings as a soul inside another person’s head, bear with me while I get settled in and apologies in advance if I hurt you or scare you or anything. Tim won’t understand this, but you can show him the log notes on the computer and explain to him everything that you and I have been through, and tell him things only you would know so he knows you’re you. I love you both with all of my heart, and I’m sorry that we can’t all be together as a family, but my hope is that you’ll find the same comfort in knowing I’m with you always that I, eventually, did with you. Take care of yourself and of Tim. Love always, Lina P.S. Don’t forget, you’re a bedwetter now. Sorry! ❤️ P.P.(heh)S. I threw my phone away, so you’ll need to use Skype or something to call Tim when you’re ready. Tears flowed down my cheeks as I read and reread the letter, moving to the bathroom to stare in disbelief at Lina’s body in the mirror, laughter bubbling up inside me at how happy I was to be alive again, how proud I was of my genius Lina, and how insane all of this seemed. “I love you, my beautiful, brilliant, sweet, amazing girl.” I said to the mirror, kissing the girl in the reflection, hoping that somewhere in my mind Lina could hear and understand me and know that how much I loved her. Epilogue “Three Years Later” The wind chime in the garden tinkled softly through the opened bedroom window. Tim lay beside me on the bed, his hand gently running over my stomach, the silver of his wedding ring glinting softly in the light streaming in. “I think we’ve got a future soccer player in there.” he said, his smile broad and full of pride. I nodded. “They need to find a target that isn’t my bladder.” I grumbled. His hand moved down to my diaper, his fingers slipping in between my leg and the diaper, checking the inside. “You can go a little longer.” he said, leaning in to kiss my cheek. I stuck my bottom lip out in a pretend pout. He copied me and then chuckled as he kissed my protruded lip. “I’m sure you’re very sad about having to stay in a wet diaper.” he teased. I looked away quickly, pretending to be upset. “I could be!” I whined. He nodded and began to gently rub the squishy padding between my thighs, “But you aren’t.” he teased. “Are you?” he asked softly, leaning down to kiss my neck. I shook my head. “No, Daddy.” I said softly. The sound of tiny feet slapping against the wood floor on the other side of the door just before a soft knocking began made us stop what we were doing, Tim returning to his original position and activity. “Come in!” I called out softly. The door opened slightly and a little head peeked in with a hand covering its eyes. “Are you decent?” the little girl asked. Tim and I smirked at each other. “Yes.” I said. The little girl dropped her hand and made her way into the bedroom, coming around Tim’s side to get picked up by him and set on the bed between us. “How’s it going, sweetie?” I asked, pulling the little girl to me and kissing her forehead. “Good!” she chirped as she hugged me. “I’m working on something that might let the baby talk to us when its born.” she explained. After I’d gotten hold of Tim and explained everything, and after the period of time he’d needed to wrap his head around the admittedly bizarre situation we found ourselves in, he followed through with his plans to move into Lina’s place. We took things slow and rekindled our romance, dealing with the weirdness of me looking like Lina but being me, we spent months going over Lina’s notes, her helping me along the way, and when I got pregnant we all agreed to put her consciousness or soul or whatever into the fetus growing in my womb. We named her Carolina when she was born, and I just about had a heart attack when she spoke to me once we got her home from the hospital. As it turned out, everything had worked better than expected and our newborn daughter had the mind of a thirty something year old genius. As she got older she showed us that none of the knowledge she’d had in her previous body had diminished in the slightest, though she did occasionally get frustrated with her less than dexterous limbs and coordination. We sold her machine to a company that was working on augmented reality programs for seniors and people with PTSD and other brain disorders or traumas, and with the substantial money from that, and the percentage of sales in perpetuity that Tim had negotiated, we found ourselves free from the worry of money for the rest of our and our children’s lives. As a precaution, we took Lina back to Dr. Fall to continue her therapy where she’d left off, she’s the only person outside our family that knows the truth about little Lina, and apart from the immediate doubt and disbelief, she handled the discovery like a champ and has become an extremely positive influence on Lina’s life. Tim and I only know what Lina tells us about her sessions, but she’s mostly transparent with us and keeps the lines of communication open with regards to her thoughts and feelings. Puberty will be the point where we see if she’s still got the same feelings for Tim and I that she had in her previous life, but based on the way she talks now, she’s our daughter and no longer carries romantic feelings for either of us. “Did you decide to take a break and have some lunch?” I asked her. She started to shake her head but hesitated. “I did come to ask for a clean diaper, but lunch does sound good.” she admitted. I moved over a little and let her lay down beside me, lifting my top and undoing the clasp on the cover of my maternity bra for her to latch on as I softly rocked her. Without money being an issue, Lina decided she’d take her time potty training, at a little over two she wasn’t so old that any of our friends would bat an eye at her toddling around in her diaper, but Tim and I both suspected we’d have to come up with an explanation to give when she didn’t start school with the other kids and still spent her days at home nursing and generally living a baby’s life. “You know, once the baby gets big enough to understand things, you won’t be able to be a baby all the time.” I told her. She nodded and lifted her head. “I know, Mommy.” she said. “But can I until then?” she asked. I nodded and guided her back to my breast as Tim lay down and resumed rubbing my stomach with one hand and stroking Lina’s hair with his other. “You’ll always be our baby, Lina.” he whispered to her. She smiled as she nursed and let a contented sigh escape her as she nestled between us, deciding maybe a nap after lunch was in order before she resumed her work. The End

Chapter 51: How I Met Cassie “You’re a cocky little shit, aren’t you?” I stopped on the cobblestone courtyard just outside of the ethical philosophy building. Not five hundred feet away was the classic statue of the blind Amazon woman with scales of one hand and a cradled infant in the other. The words beneath the statue read. “Nutricor. Castigo. Protego.” To be fair, the College of Law classrooms were at the other end of the courtyard, and the basis of law was supposedly rooted in ethics and moral philosophy. It made sense to have the Amazonian’s take on Law and Order immortalized there in the midst of campus. To be cynical, however, every freshman had to take at least one course in ethical philosophy as a general credit, and the statue combined with the Amazon propaganda sprinkled in pretty much every course- especially the liberal arts and philosophy courses- helped remind people no matter their size who was really in charge. Say something batshit like how the giants were there “To Nurture. To Punish. To Protect.” enough times and it became harder to argue with it. It didn’t make it any easier to believe that claim, but it became harder to argue with it. I was less cynical, back then, however. More idealistic. I knew how dangerous Amazons were but there’s something about the logical fallacy of the personal fable- that you’re going to be the immortal exception to the mortal rule- that is so damn intoxicating when you’re eighteen. “Excuse me?” I said as I turned around. For once, my head didn’t crane up at the insult. I could tell the voice was more my level. Another Little. “What did you say?” The girl in front of me crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her head to the side. “I said you’re a cocky shit.” she repeated herself. “That or you’re trying to get adopted. Is that it? You’re trying to get the professor to snatch you up?” That voice. I didn’t know it then, but I fell in love with that voice. Not just the way she sounded, but the way she used it. So strong. So sure of herself. So passionate. Her yelling at me was still akin to a musical instrument. I grew to love her dark brown eyes and her light chestnut hair. I would one day get to know the curves of her body and the suppleness of her breasts. I’d spoon and wrap my arms around her waist and hold her so tight like she was a wisp of smoke that might evaporate into nothingness if I didn’t grip her firmly enough. At first she had the streak of bright red dyed into her head that she’d eventually get rid of come second semester; yet I still think of her that way. But the first thing that imprinted on me was her voice. I jerked my head to the side and started going for a patch of grass out of the way of the other students, about three quarters of them bigger than us. “Do you want to umm…?” The co-ed clicked her tongue and didn’t meet me there as much as she stormed to the area. “Seriously?” she said. “What were you thinking?! Arguing philosophy with a philosophy teacher?” She wasn’t yelling. She was far from having a nice quiet chat with a classmate either. I was unflappable. “The others were doing it,” I said. “We were doing the Socratic method. We ask questions and are asked questions in turn. And we either prove our point or are shown the limits of our thinking based on the questions that naturally arise.” “The others were all Amazons and Tweeners.” she countered. “They can engage in debate with a professor! When you do it, you’re being contrarian and immature! It’s the double standard!” “It’s a double standard,” I agreed, “and it’s wrong. The only way to stop it is to use its own rules against it.” “You argued Socrates against Socrates! You tried to use Socratic method to prove Socrates wrong!” I smirked. “Technically, I said Plato was wrong. Everything we know about Socrates we know from Plato. For all we know, Socrates was a character Plato invented to get his points across.” The girl gritted her teeth and pulled at her hair. “That doesn’t matter, dude! You used the Allegory of the Cave to argue that there was no point in educating people since people naturally resist being taught.” “I was just trying to force the professor to take the opposite stance. Get him to prove why education is necessary and-” I gestured to the statue in the center of everything, “why we can’t just be happy with the status quo.” “And you’re practically begging the professor to force you into a daycare!” Our voices were raised. Our passions were high. Had we been a bit taller or a smidge louder, we would be on the verge of creating a scene. No one took notice of the two Littles arguing just outside the Philosophy building, however. In the strangest, most anti-intuitive way we were the safest we could be. So many Amazons, but the vast majority of them were in no way ready to start a family. Nor did they think themselves petty enough to ruin two Little’s lives just to show them who was boss. The magic of college where everyone is so self-involved and wonderfully idealistic to the point of naivete that the world outside your dorm room, class schedule, and pet causes ceases to be a concern. In a weird way I wish we could all go back to college. College seems like a four year vacation compared to the mundane perils of everyday living. I smoothed out my blue polo shirt; back when I could eat an entire chicken and would still be in fighting trim. If I gained any fat it’d be off before I noticed and carried like muscle instead of giving me a beer gut. I stroked my beard. It had grown in over the summer thicker than it’s usual pubescent patchiness and was a tad scraggly. I had yet to master the art of keeping it in a trim and professional goatee, or develop the careful ritual I used every morning to seem like the perfect Little professional. Objectively, I looked like a child that had just inherited a grown-up skin, just like that movie “Bigger”. Objectively, most of the other eighteen to nineteen year olds were in the same boat. They weren’t Little, though. I was a miniature version of them, and it was the miniature part that was the problem. “I presented my case. I kept my voice level. I phrased everything as a question. I even thanked the professor.” “Yeah, Mr. Gibson,” she said. “But you didn’t have to say it like you’d just won..” She held herself up straighter and lowered her voice in imitation of me. “Thank you, Professor.” Yikes, did I really sound that pompous? “Mr. Gibson?” I echoed. “He said it often enough. He’s got your number. He’s going to spend the rest of the semester gunning for you and trying to find a reason to flunk you.” She didn’t need to tell me what would happen if I flunked. Tweeners got put on probation. Amazons could just take a class over. Littles who flunked a class, any class, would be given a very different course load. I held up my finger and opened my mouth to make a counterpoint. What came out instead was, “Okay. Maybe you’re right.” The girl seemed just as taken aback as I was. “What?” “Sorry,” I kept going. “I’m just really excited. I’m finally on my own, and I have the chance to do something, to really accomplish something! I guess I’m jumping the gun.” She seemed interested. “Political science?” “Education.” She winced. “Yikes. That’s worse in a way.” I relaxed a bit. “Yeah. I’m kind of a masochist.” I drooped my head. “That Professor probably already has his mind made up. I gotta be more like the Third Little Pig and build with a good foundation instead of trying to rush it or take a shortcuts.” A look of pure confusion. “Third Little Pig?” “Yeah, the Three Little Pigs. Old folktale?” “Don’t you mean The Two Little Pigs and Their Mommy?” she said. I chuckled. I shouldn’t have, but I couldn’t resist. “Yeeeeah, that interpretation has only been around for like, a couple hundred years or so. The original is much gorier and interesting. Also largely passed on by oral tradition from Little immigrants, so when Amazons wrote it down, they got to change the Third Little Pig into an Amazon Mommy Pig. Some scholars even think the word ‘Little’ is just talking about their relative age instead of size or ma…” I stopped myself. In Little circles ‘The M Word’ was practically a curse. “I mean, you know how the other version goes. It’s just not the original version.” “Huh,” the girl who moments before had been yelling at me to reel it in said. “Do you want to tell me more? Over coffee?.” My heart leapt. (Something besides my heart stood at attention, too.) “Yeah?” I asked. “Sure. Us Littles on campus gotta stick together, right?” She batted her eyes at me. “Right.” She extended her hand. “I’m Cassandra Braun. Friends call me Cassie.” I took her hand. “I’m Clark. You already know my last name. Nice to meet you Cassandra.” She grinned. “Not Cassie?” “You haven’t told me we’re friends, yet.” I replied. “I don’t want to assume anything. I gotta be careful.” She let go and gave me her phone number. “Maybe I was wrong about you, Clark Gibson.” The biggest, dumbest, goofiest grin that I’d yet grinned spread like an oil slick across my dumb hairy mug. “Maybe we can find out together.” “Easy there, killer.” “Yes, Ma’am.” I couldn’t help but awake with a profound, if fleeting, feeling of melancholy when my eyes opened up there in Beouf’s nap room an hour after Lunch.

And I really appreciate you both leaving all those comments! I love reading to them and replying! I knew when I started my patreon that it would reduce the amount of comments I'd get and the amount of views, as people will read and comment either on my discord server or on patreon itself, so my other stories would never be as popular as Little in Love was. But I still appreciate those who read and comment here! It still makes me happy to see so many people enjoying and commenting and theorising about my stories!

The Pastel Gift Vampires don’t have many heroes, historically speaking. When one lives their unlife in the shadows, it’s very difficult to pick their own historical role models. Vampirism resulted in a secret society less like the Illuminati and more like the Sith. Eternal nocturnal existence wasn’t a vast sweeping empire that secretly influenced society through the ages as much as it was secretive little pockets of vampires and the thralls they let in on the joke. If you were a member of an undead secret society, the emphasis would more than likely be on the secret; and less so on the society. Vampires didn’t have George Washingtons or Cleopatras, or Louis Pasteurs. Both because if anyone had given the Dark Gift to those people it would have potentially ruined the big secret, and because vampires by and large still thought of themselves as people. The historical, philosophical, scientific, and artistic influences of the human world were the same in the darkness as they were in the sunlight. Simple as that. Still, if Melissa had to name any great ‘vampire history’ figures, she would have put a disproportionate amount of weight on the likes of Bram Stoker, Anne Rice, Charlene Harris, and Stephanie Meyer. Each of them had gotten close enough to the truth to aid vampirism and yet got so many details scattered and just plain wrong that the quality of unlife for those of the blood sucking persuasion was better for their work. As a result, most everyone knew what a vampire was, even if they didn’t know the exact strengths and limitations of said vampire. The many contradicting details in the various fictional novels and mediums vampires were portrayed in kept the real vampires like Melissa safer by relegating her in people’s minds to being fictional herself. No one went looking for vampires when vampires weren’t considered an option anymore. Conversely, it made thralls easier to recruit and manage. Everyone knew what vampires were, and all it took some years to recruit an ideal servant or snack was to prove that the fictional status was incorrect. Yet those fictions kept things easy for Melissa. Knowing or just suspecting that vampires were real was one thing. Knowing their weaknesses was another. Melissa hated sunlight, and preferred to sleep in total darkness, but Apollo’s chariot did nothing to harm her beyond making her eyelids droop and muscles ache. Crosses and other religious iconography had no effect on her other than making her uncomfortable about the sort of people that wielded them and how they chose to worship their god. Finally, vampires had no need to be invited into any domicile to force their way into it. Breaking and entering was simple when you could walk up walls and force open windows that had no fire escape next to them. Few people would think to lock the point of entry and even fewer would look for it as a point of breach. Being a thoroughly modern vampire, Melissa pitied her ancestors who had to find less suspicious ways to feed simply because people lived in single story, poorly ventilated huts that would have collapsed had a vampire tried to use their strength to enter. Come to think of it, that might have been the origin of that particular bit of superstition. Besides attributing weaknesses that just weren’t there, the various fictions completely missed out on many of the actual limitations of the condition. For starters, the Dark Gift had increased her dietary needs instead of transforming them altogether. Melissa had to eat, drink, pee, and poop just like anybody else. The blood sustained her immortality and strange abilities, but she largely sated herself on hamburgers just like anybody else. If she was careful she could make the blood in her system last for days, sometimes over a week before her fangs started popping back out looking for more. That bit of misinformation, that vampires subsisted on only blood, had helped her dodge a hunter seventy some odd years ago. Proving her ‘innocence’ had been as simple as eating a salad, popping off to the little girl’s room and then ‘forgetting’ to flush. The idea had felt particularly inspired, Melissa thought. Better than submitting for a blood test that somehow might find evidence of mixtures of different types of blood. Another fun secret about vampirism was what the blood could do for Melissa. The Dark Gift had a way of giving her more than just her victim’s life fluids. Whenever she fed, Melissa would take on the traits and skill sets of her victims. It was how she’d managed to live so comfortably when she wasn’t on the prowl. A nibble of an investment broker here; a lawyer there; a witness protection expert for good measure, and Melissa could continuously drum up money, pose as her own descendant, and inherit her own generational wealth again and again and again. Ironically, the pulpy television show about a crime solving zombie was a more accurate portrayal of vampirism than any number of fang laden love triangle melodramas. It’s also why vampires tended to be metropolitan monsters. Dracula, if he really did exist, most likely moved to London because he was sick of having the skill set and temperament of a superstitious Eastern European serf. Which brought Melissa to tonight’s hunt. Lorraine Schmitt’’s was an insurance agent, a good one too, and Melissa badly wanted to know of any loopholes that could be exploited. Her winter home in Alaska was almost up for coverage renewal, and Melissa had reached that point where she was looking to either cut costs or arrange an ‘accident’ to recoup her investment. It turned out the downside of having thirty days of continuous night was having to live in Alaska. With an aura that dampened the sounds of every footstep, creaking floorboard, and even the occupant’s quiet purring snores, Melissa opened the door to the insurance agent’s bedroom. She frowned and shut the door behind her as she entered. This was supposed to be Lorraine Schmitt’s bedroom. The layout and floor plan matched what her thrall had researched perfectly. If her spacial awareness and memory wasn’t beyond anything remotely human, Melissa would have doubted herself. No. This was the exact address and apartment that her insurance snack was supposed to reside in. If that was the case, though, why was the only bedroom home to a baby’s nursery? No. Not quite. Back in the early 1970’s, Melissa had experimented by sampling psychedelics. For an instant, Melissa was brought roaring back to a bad trip when scale, perspective, and common sense was thrown into a shredder. A quick blink and rapidly adjusting night vision brought Melissa back to the present. As her eyes adjusted to the soft night light and her ears took in the gentle lullabies playing softly on a speaker, the vampire soon understood that she was neither tripping balls nor was she in an infant’s room. Rather she was in a bizarre funhouse replica of one. Like a patron in a museum, Melissa glided through the room taking in each sight, sound and smell; piecing together a story from the room’s contents like a carefully curated experience. The closet was filled with professional looking clothing that might be expected for a white collar industry. Based on the size and style, an adult woman clearly lived here. There. Full-stop. Out with the expected. The chest of drawers on the opposite side of the room was not actually a chest of drawers. Originally it might have been, but it had since been heavily modified into an enormous changing table. If the sturdily padded top hadn’t tipped her off, the alcoves containing tubs of baby wipes, rash cream, and baby powder dashed that lie. Speaking of padding, the diapers on the middle shelf were definitely not for a baby. The size of the pre-folded disposables would have smothered an actual child. Though the cartoon prints might have fooled a casual observer. Adult diapers that looked like baby’s? Adult baby diapers? How was that even a thing? Why was that even a thing. By the time her eyes locked onto the stacks of folded up adult sized onesies, baby t-shirts, and decorative panties, Melissa already felt she knew more than enough about her latest snack. It looks like Little Lorraine had a dirty little secret. Compared to the feast for her eyes, the other senses felt left out by comparison. Yes, she heard the gentle lullaby that Lorraine played on loop in the faux nursery. Yes, her nose detected the lavender scent of baby powder masking the subtle aroma of urine and feces sealed inside a diaper pail. The problem, as far as curiosity was concerned was that it was very difficult to scale up the babyishness where smell and hearing were concerned. Sure, her heightened sense of smell detected the scent of bodily waste through even ‘odor lock technology’ but it didn’t smell any more odious to her nose than a bathroom that hadn’t been freshly scrubbed. Of course her fantastic ears noticed the faint whispers laced into the lullaby- she could hear a mosquito buzzing its wings from a football field away-but she’d fed upon numerous people who listened to soft whispers in their sleep. ASMR was a thing! She didn’t quite understand what it was, but it was a thing! Compared to the cake and icing that was the oversized furniture and clothing, she paid no mind to the decorative fondant of the music and smells. Melissa was fresh out of surprise by the time she approached the crib. She looked down at the slumbering woman-child, sucking on a pacifier in her sleep. Revulsion wasn’t even a factor in Melissa’s mind looking down at the girl. In nearly two centuries of unlife, Melissa had seen some of the worst that humanity had to offer. A woman sleeping in a pink-onesie and wet diaper was hardly anything to get upset about. It was odd, perhaps, but she’d felt she’d encountered odder. The infantile sights, sounds, and smells did nothing to stop her fangs from extending. Melissa stopped breathing. Like most of her snacks these days, this baby woman would survive and just wake up a little woozy tomorrow morning. If she didn’t feed soon though, her next meal might not be so lucky. Binge eating was a potentially deadly habit to those with the Dark Gift. Everything was academic after that. It was nothing to slide down the side of the giant crib; no different than parting a bed curtain during a more genteel era. Like always, the girl didn’t wake up as Melissa slid her fangs into the precious neck artery; the magic of the Dark Gift being less disturbing than even a mosquito bite. From there it was pure elementary. This. This was the best part of the Dark Gift, where Melissa took the blood, thoughts, and perhaps even part of the soul of the young lady. All of that knowledge. All of that experience flowing into her. Literally living vicariously through this complete stranger that she’d never met before. This. This was better than sex. Better than heroin. Better than Kobe beef. Better than caviar. More so than the immortality and the physics destroying power, this is what Melissa un-lived for. She might still need food to survive, but the experience gained through the blood made existence worthwhile. Her task complete, Melissa licked the wounds she made close. Playfully, half-instinctually, she pressed the button on Lorraine’s pacifier. As expected, the girl started sucking on the rubber teat. Good. Melissa hadn’t taken too much. Quickly, her eyes darted over to the changing table and the stacks of diapers contained therein. A feeling of deep longing mixed with guilt creeped up the base of Melissa’s brain. Unexpected, but not surprising. Unconscious tendencies were the first thing to surface after drinking. So for now, she had a fetish. Great. Whatever. She’d once spent nearly a fornite with the brain of whorehouse madam. The behavior of her thralls had greatly improved as a result and she continued many of the habits long after that particular morsel had worn off. So what if her heart fluttered a little bit at the thought of getting padded up (there was an errant thought if ever there was one)? So long as Melissa knew all the loopholes that the insurance companies didn’t want her to know she’d be satisfied. “Yup,” she whispered to herself, “It’s all there.” She gave her temple a self satisfied tap. Dampening the sound of her departing feet, Melissa glided out on the breeze slipping through the window she came in. Her conscious mind picked up only the (suddenly) pleasant sounds of a slight crinkle on a sodden diaper and the scent of baby powder. Her unconscious mind though... If only she’d paid more attention with her impeccable senses to the underlying whispers in Lorraine’s music box lullabies, this night would have been little more than a curiosity and a metaphorical bullet dodged. Melissa didn’t though, and stole off into the dark of the night with a new kink, and a mind that had been experimenting with some very interesting subliminal hypnosis tracks. ************************************************************************************************ Catherine O’Hara was never going to be a vampire. She’d decided that long ago. It wasn’t due to her vanity, Lord knew that. She was well past her prime, and her prime wasn’t that great looking to begin with. The pale skin and dark hair (assuming hers didn’t turn white) might have even looked appealing from a certain angle. The blood red eyes whenever her temper threatened might have been a bonus. A little intimidation never hurt anything. So overall, the Dark Gift as her master called it, likely would have smoothed a few things over in the looks department. Not that Catherine was particularly homely either. She could stand to lose a few pounds for her height and her hair was something of a curly tangled mess that wasn’t getting any better as stress and old age hung like the sword of Damocles over her, but no one would be calling her Quasimodo or Igor, neither. Matronly, some might have called her, if not motherly. A lifetime ago she would have been perfectly content being a sexless school marm out in the settler days, happy to keep whipper snappers in line and teach good little boys and girls all about the three R’s. If she’d been born into money, she’d be looking forward to being the Old Maid Aunt or the stern lipped Matriarch leveling judgement at passing generations. Unless reincarnation was a thing (and Catherine O’Hara very much doubted it was), she’d lost the lottery on that front. No, what this lifetime had in store for Catherine was an abundance of service to a vampire. While the idea of becoming immortal had initially appealed to Catherine - and the promise of eternal night as a reward had been the thing to initially string her along- experience had taught her that the Dark Gift was something she didn’t want to accept. What was the saying? No faster way to turn a Catholic into an atheist than getting them to read the Bible? Well, the fastest way to turn a vampire’s thrall into someone aching for the stillness of the grave was to have them actually live with the vampire. Vampires were nutters, the lot of them! One time, her master came home after drinking from a professional daredevil, and spent the better part of four days trying to chase an adrenaline rush, and it was Catherine’s job to sort out the details. An adrenaline rush? A death defying stunt? For someone whose very existence already defied death? But did her master give her any options? Did she appreciate how hard it was to quickly and legally (okay, sort of legally) acquire and learn to plant dynamite just so a semi-immortal being could jump over an explosion?! NO! NO SHE DIDN’T! NOT EVEN A THANK YOU! At least the ramp had been easy to find. Catherine had been wise not to scrap the scenery from Starlight Express when her master had gone through that “Theater Director” phase. Presently, it was Friday. This meant that her Master was going hunting tonight. Thankfully, the master was going after boring blood tonight; insurance agent. The only thing safer (from Catherine’s point of view) might be an accountant. The master came back to the manner early that night well before the pubs and clubs had closed. Catherine took this as a good sign. The insurance agent must be kicking in; why else would the master be home this early if not for the influence of a little boring blood. The master preferred to feed on the sleeping, and Catherine had gone out of her way to find the most boring candidate possible. Nothing had been on the target’s social media profile beyond etsy photos and niche office jokes. That explained why she was in bed by ten. Good. Maybe that meant this would be a relatively easy week. “Good evening, Miss Catherine!” the master practically chirped. She skipped in and left the door behind her wide open. Catherine shut the door behind the master, then did a double take. Skipping? Was the vampire actually skipping? “Good evening, master.” Catherine replied. “I trust your hunt went well?” The master stopped and spun around, fluttering a little bit. “Oh yeah!” she said. “Super good! Lotsa fun!” Catherine arched an eyebrow. “And you decided to come back early?” Candice asked. “Not go out to a club or a bar or…?” The thrall wasn’t sure where to lead this line of questioning so she just let the question drop. Raven hair went flapping as the master shook her head. “No, ma’am,” she said. “Too loud and smelly and sweaty!” She pinched her nose as if she were imagining it then and there. “I just wanted to come home and watch some cartoons.” “Very good, ma’am.” Catherine said. Her body began to ache in sympathy. That dull tired sickness that people get only when their body starts to feel as if it can lower its defenses was creeping in. She just wanted to watch some T.V. Maybe this would be an easy week. Maybe Catherine would finally be able to get some... “Wait? Cartoons?” The master tilted her head curiously. “Yeah! Do we still have the DVR?” “Yes, master.” Catherine stumbled. “But I don’t think we have any cartoons stored on there.” The vampire slumped a bit. “Awwww. Okay.” She let out a tired, disappointed sigh. Catherine’s more servile second nature kicked in. “I think I have a few streaming services. Netflix? Hulu? Disney?” That did the trick. “Disney?!” Her embrace was cold but strong, and Catherine was reminded why she was terrified of the undead, (not that she needed much reminding). “Yes, master.” Catherine blurted out. “You can have my password!” The vampire released her servant. “Yaaaaaay! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” Then she went skipping, literally skipping. “Take the rest of the night off, Ma-! I mean Catherine!” “Yes ma’am.” Catherine replied automatically. There was a look of emotional confusion on her master’s face; like she understood what was being said but didn’t like what she was hearing. “I mean, yes, master?” Nothing changed. “Yes...Melissa…?” That did the trick. “Kay-kay!” she said. “Have a good ni-ni! Is it okay if I wake you if I need anything?” Catherine felt a kind of shock. “What?” Why was she asking? If the ancient creature wanted something she usually just demanded it. “I mean, of course. You know where to find me if you need me. Ma-...Melissa.” “Kay kay! Ni-ni?” The aches of long forgotten relaxation was just starting to set into Catherine, and with it a new lingering question. Who had her master fed from? It certainly wasn’t an insurance agent. ********************************************************************************************* Melissa bobbed up and down on her bottom, belting out the lyrics to her new favorite T.V. show in the whole world. “Whoa oh oh, Vampirina! I may be blue with pointy teeth! Whoa oh oh, Vampirina! But I’m not so different underneath!” This insurance agent blood had done a number on her in the best way. Cartoons seemed brighter and happy songs seemed happier. She felt like she had all the time in the world and yet everything seemed to move along at a rollercoaster pace! It was the best of all worlds and experiences as far as Melissa was concerned. She had already cleared straight through an entire season of this children’s show and was ready to devour another. Like so many things about vampires in fiction, many of the finer details were missed about the Dark Gift, but at least it was a positive portrayal. If Vampirina were a real vampire girl, Melissa knew deep in her heart of hearts that they would have been best friends. More than best friends, actually. Melissa pictured herself in the cartoon girl’s bat wing pigtails, and spider-web pattern jumper dress. It still seemed so much bigger and more mature than how Melissa envisioned herself. She would have been perfectly happy wearing a onesie; maybe one with a decorated hoodie that she could pull over her eyes while she was feeling shy. Vampirina wouldn’t be her best friend; she’d be more like a big sister to play with Melissa take care of her when Mommy wasn’t around. Shame she wasn’t real. Melissa let out a little yawn and looked out the window. Dawn was approaching, the first traces of amber light cresting over the horizon. No wonder she was feeling so sleepy. It’s what Melissa got for finding Doc McStuffins first and bingeing that. A tired yawn escaped from the little vampire’s throat and an even tinier trickle leaked out into her panties. The yawn turned to a gasp and Melissa patted herself down to her panties. It was only a tiny accident, she assured herself. Not enough to stain the pretty (but very grown up) dress she was wearing today. “Ooops,” she whispered. “Gotta go potty.” Nervously she hugged the couch pillow. It wasn’t as nice as a teddy bear, but it would have to suffice till tomorrow. Before sitting down to watch cartoons, Melissa had gone on an online spending spree. Nothing major. Just stuffed animals that looked cute as well as some...other things. Things that would help her play and watch cartoons longer. She spent extra money to have them all expressed shipped so hopefully they would all be here by the time she woke up tomorrow night. She felt a strange itching in her being at that thought as well as a muted wave of embarrassment. She both wanted these things and felt ashamed for wanting them at the same time. Did this come with the desire to sleep in cribs, or was it a natural tendency of insurance agents? Melissa didn’t know. Whatever it was, it hadn’t stopped Lorraine from living her best life, and it wasn’t going to stop Melissa either. Oh yeah, and she’d figured out a way that her little home in boring old Alaska could basically pay for itself by turning it into a timeshare. So that was neat. “Time for beddy-...” From her place on the floor, Melissa looked behind her to the couch and only then did she realize that Catherine wasn’t there. Rationally, she realized that Catherine shouldn’t be. She’d given her thrall the night off because it was a nice thing to do. Rationally, she realized that Catherine wouldn’t be interested in something like Vampirina (even though Vampirina was clearly the best thing in the world!). Still...it would have been nice to have someone else in the room with her. Someone to keep her company and occasionally say nice things to her. Melissa got up and started to walk to the bathroom. First potty. Then bed. Then she’d wake up. Eat some sugary cereal, and get to play and watch cartoons all tomorrow night. Technically, she could do that all day since Catherine wouldn’t make her go to bed. Catherine. The vampire stopped at the door to her thrall’s bedroom. It was a relatively tiny space. Only room enough for a Queen size bed, a closet, and a dresser. Melissa had hidden in motels with more floor space. But it was cozy. Her own bed and living quarters was sunproofed and far more luxurious. But it was also empty. A strange impulse overcame the undead stalker. “Maybe…” she said, opening the door with preternatural quietness. Yes. Maybe indeed. Maybe a day cuddled up secure to the closest thing she had as a friend might be better than sprawling our in a big empty room on a big empty bed. Cozy even. Maybe she could hold off going potty until tomorrow night too... ********************************************************************************* Catherine woke up thinking she was dying! She’d never watched the vampire feed, but with the fangs and the blood red eyes, she’d always assumed that the act of feeding was dangerous and messy and above all bloody. So she could be forgiven for thinking that the wet feeling that was engulfing her and drenching her legs was that of her own blood spilling out onto the bed. Her master had finally tired of her and was going to consume her whole. That’s why she’d gotten the night off of work. It had to be. That’s what Catherine thought as she started screaming her head off, leaping out of her bed. “NOOOOO! NOOOOOOOOO!” It didn’t help her misconception that Melissa was in bed right next to her. For a split second, her master appeared for all intents and purposes to be a corpse. Vampires just looked that way while they slept. The corpse soon animated though as eyes fluttered open. “Huh?” she looked down at herself and the puddle that had gathered in the middle of the mattress. “What?! Oh no!” She flew out to the other side of the bed, and landed daintily on her feet. “Cahterine!” she shrieked. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean to-!” Her skin remained as ivory pale as always, but her eyes turned a shade of rose petal pink. Was this the undead equivalent of blushing? “I’m so sorry! I’m sooooo sooo sorry!” “Sorry?” Catherine echoed. Not only was that a word that the thrall couldn’t remember hearing out of her master’s mouth, but she wasn’t sure. She looked down at her legs, there was They were wet but not with blood. “Did you...?” Her nostrils filled in the rest of the sentence. Yes, Melissa, vampire queen of the night had wet the bed. Correction: She’d wet Catherine’s bed. “I just wanted to cuddle and I forgot to go potty and...and...and…” Flabbergasted beyond comprehension. Catherine remained silent. What was this? Some kind of test? Hurriedly she started stripping her bed as adrenaline pushed her the rest of the way awake. She looked at the clock. The sun hadn’t even been up for two whole hours. That made Catherine feel even more exhausted. Living under a vampire’s roof had long ago shifted her sleep to third shift. Even with the night off, Catherine had only managed to claim sleep an hour or so before dawn. “I’m sorry Miss Cathy!” A bundle of peed on bedsheets in hand, Catherine glared at the slender immortal standing blushing across from her. “Miss Cathy?” Her vision started to come more into focus. “Are you wearing one of my nightgowns?” She’d never seen Melissa wear anything that pink before. “It looked comfy…” She took the foul smelling thing off and unhelpfully added it to the pile. “I’m a big girl.” “Of course ma’am...” Catherine said. “Sure you are.” “Say it.” the vampire said. “Say it I’m a big girl…” her voice was right on the edge of trembling and a tantrum. This was something she needed to hear and if she didn’t that nightmare that Catherine just imagined might be more than just a misunderstanding. “You’re a big girl…” Catherine said. Then she ventured. “You’re a very big girl...Melissa.” That seemed to do the trick. “I’m gonna go…” Melissa said. “Lay down in my bed. I mean. If that’s okay.” Once again she’d become submissive and demure. “Of course, dear.” The ‘dear’ came naturally, this time. A vampire’s thrall learned to anticipate their master’s needs. What Catherine couldn’t anticipate for, she could at least quickly adapt to new situations. This was certainly new. “Go get changed and go back to sleep. It was just an accident.” She noticed the slight flutter in Melissa’s posture, both at hearing her own name as well as the pet moniker of ‘dear’. Something in her was getting a major thrill out of just hearing it. This was certainly a development. The two parted ways, with Melissa floating off to her much nicer bedroom, and a still exhausted Catherine headed for the laundry room. She’d need a shower if she was going to get back to sleep. But first... “Melissa…” she called back. Melissa stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “Yes, ma’am?” There was a bit of guilt still rattlign around that skull. “Who did you eat last night?” “Insurance agent,” the vampire said. “Why?” “Just an insurance agent?” she asked. “No one...younger?” “Nuh-uh. Why?” “No reason…” *************************************************************************************************** DING-DONG! Catherine stirred from her sleep, still feeling exhausted. The couch wasn’t nearly as comfortable as her own bed. “I’m coming!” She called. Damn it. Damn it! Damn it! Damn it! Even when her master was high on insurance agent blood, she couldn’t get a full rest. The thrall had little doubt that what was at the door was some kind of impulse buy that Melissa just couldn’t resist. The real question was a matter of what. Blearily she eyed the nearest clock. It was just after three. The usual courier was waiting at the doorstep. Being an overpaid mailman he didn’t ask questions. Good for him. It made the frequent deliveries more bearable when Catherine didn’t have to explain anything. This time, the middle aged thrall had wished there was some kind of explanation. Boxes and boxes and boxes lay piled up at the doorstep. All looking fairly heavy, and none looked the least bit distinct. Catherine spared a glance at some of the labels. “LKB LLC?” She read. “Strom Holdings?” said another. What was this stuff? “Sign here,” the courier said. He was sweating. He’d needed several trips to get everything unloaded. “Sure, sure.” Catherine sighed. “Do you mind helping me get these in?” Brow drenched with sweat the delivery man let out his own sigh. Both of them were thralls to blood sucking monsters in their own way. It’s just one was more literal than the other. “Yeah. I guess so. I’ll get ‘em across the door for you.” It was the most talking either of them had done to each other in their many years. Strange. “Do you need a box cutter?” The courier offered. He went to go for his pocket but Catherine waved him off. “I’m fine, thanks.” Then she remembered a bit of kindness. “Can I offer you some water?” “That’d be great...thank you.” Strange, Catherine thought. Melissa never offered such basic courtesies. She had infinite time and wealth, as did a certain delivery mega corporation, but it was the servants who showed one another the most respect. A sad state of the world she thought. After the water glass was drained, refilled, and then drained again, the courier went on his way. Most days, Catherine would leave the packages where they lay, letting her master’s impulse determine where they should go next, but a certain amount of curiosity had infected the woman. A sharp knife from the kitchen did the trick to satisfy her curiosity. The first box had vacuum sealed t-shirts. The colors were soft and muted. Pastel mostly. Some had, frankly, childish patterns on them. Light Blue with Frogs wearing scuba gear; another mint green with playful pigs; and so on. The dark one with the amalgamation of a cat and a skull seemed more Melissa’s aesthetic but it was still far too whimsical for her baseline mood. Tearing into a second package filled with bottles and pacifiers caused Catherine to go back to the box of shirts and fully unwrap them. Just as she hadn’t thought. These weren’t t-shirts, they were unitards. Except these unitards weren’t the kind that gymnasts wore. These were onesies, the kind that had snap buttons right in the crotch area. The kind of thing a baby might wear over their… Oh no! She tore into another box, and just as she suspected found the diapers. Packs and packs of them. Over half of the mountain of cardboard hid thick, tapable, plastic backed underwear that had bright and smiling cartoons on them. Everything that wasn’t a diaper wasn’t much better. Pacifier, bottles, rompers, frilly panties just barely big enough to cover the diapers; Lolita-ish dresses; jumpers. All of it looked like a carnival version of something a toddler or younger would be dressed in. Had Melissa eaten a baby? Had that actually happened? No. That didn’t add up. Babies wore those sorts of things because their parents dressed them in it. Left to their own devices they might just…watch cartoons all day… And crawl into their parents beds… And wet the bed… But did they buy their own diapers or toddler dresses or onesies? In sizes that fit them no less? Looking at the pile of accumulated nonsense in front of her, Catherine realized that there was also a distinct lack of practicality involved. There were diapers, but no wipes. Bottles but no milk. Bibs but no food. No powder or rash cream or any of the other little touches that an actual child might need. Catherine dug out her phone. As a thrall, it was her job to anticipate her master’s needs. She might not have eaten a proper child, but there was something certainly screwy going on. It was only a few hours before sunset when the master would wake up. She had some additional shopping to do and…. WHOAH...a lot of reading apparently. “Ay-Bee-Dee-Ell?” ******************************************************************************************** “Ma...Catherine?” Melissa moaned herself into consciousness and yanked the thumb out of her mouth. How had that gotten there? Her mo...thrall was already in her room and appeared to be rifling through her closet. “This one can go...this one can go...this one can go…” Long black dress after long black dress was being draped over Catherin’s forearm. “Hey!” She Melissa called out. “I wasn’t done wearing those!” Catherine stopped. “Good evening, Master!” she chirped. Melissa sounded much brighter and cheerier than she usually did. Normally the woman was relatively reserved. The almost forced happiness in her tone made Melissa’s brain tingle in so many ways. “Did you sleep better?” Melissa stretched and felt oddly refreshed. “Yeah,” she said. “Actually…” she rolled over to get up and froze when she heard the light plastic crinkling. She KNEW that sound. She LOVED that sound. But a part of her FEARED others hearing that sound. Stupidly, as if in a trance, Melissa slid the rest of the way off of her bed. Clinging to her waistbut lightly wet, was what her mind told her was something called a PeekAbu. A drawing of a yellow giraffe with smiling eyes poked its head out shyly just at the waist band. The sizing star on the right told her it was a medium, even though it was a “Size 8” according to the branding. “Why am I wearing a diaper?” The question came out of Melissa’s mouth even as her psyche provided the answer. This morning! The bed! But not her bed! Catherine’s! She could feel her eyes turn rose petal pink. Her own sheets had already been stripped. She’d been sleeping on a bare mattress with a spare comforter! That meant that...that...neither part of her mind wanted to fill in the blanks. Catherine continued to fold sheik black dresses and put them in cardboard boxes. She eyed the vampire with the same casual wariness that all mortals in the know tended to do, but she remained calm. “Your new clothes came in this morning with the diapers, and I’m putting your old ones away until it’s time to put them back on. Is that alright, little Master?” Little Master! Melissa wanted to swoon. Not at the master part, but at being called ‘little’. I’m a good little girl, she thought. Gingerly, her thumb crept up back between her lips. “Yeah. That’s fine, Miss Catherine…” “I put the diaper on because you had another accident in your sleep and I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable. Are you comfortable?” “But how?” Melissa reached down between her legs and squeezed the soggy padding. She knew it was wet only because she had a keen knowledge and memory of what a slightly damp diaper felt like. As far as her skin was concerned, she was wearing regular panties. Thick, crinkly panties that another woman had put her in and taped up for her while she slept. And she was perfectly comfortable. Good little girls use and wet their diapers. They need their diapers, even when they’re asleep. They don’t worry about going to the yucky old potty. As long as they have their diapers they’re perfectly comfortable. “You’re a very deep sleeper, little Master.” Again, Melissa inwardly rejoiced at the l-word. “It’s why you have me here. To protect you.” Melissa sniffed. “Did you use baby powder on me?” She winced. As much as she liked it… “I don’t remember ordering baby powder.” “You forgot a few things that should have been on your list,” Catherine explained. “So I took care of them for you. You forgot some things. Nothing big. Just some silly mistakes. I took care of it.” The vampire’s eyes blinked red. Some primal, undead part of her raged at the idea. Her thrall was correcting her. How dare she-? Good little girls always listened to their Mommies and Daddies. Their Mommies and Daddies take care of them and know what’s best… “Thank you,” Melissa said. She started. “But you’re up,” Catherine said. “So I’ll put away your big girl clothes later.” She strode up to Melissa. “Hmmm...I can’t tell how wet you are. Do you want changed yet?” Good little girls don’t decide when their Mommies and Daddies change them. “No…?” Catherine took her free hand and started leading her out of her bedroom. “I think you’ll be okay for at least one more wetting,” Catherine said. “Or a mess. I can change you then. But let’s get you some breakfast first. How’s that?” ************************************************************************************************************** “Catheriiiiiine!” Melissa’s voice whined out. “Where’s my chicken nuggies!” “Comiiiiing!” Catherine called back, exhausted again. Three days... It had been three days. Three days of changing diapers, and wiping mouths, and feeding bottles. And reading stories AND finding stuffies that were THERE one minute but then dropped and forgotten about the next until an hour later they were the vampire’s favorite thing in the world. Three days of Catherine feeling even more like a servant than she usually did. When she’d peaced together that these Adult Baby fetishists were, she thought this might be an easy week. Oh boy had she been wrong. “Catherine, look at this!” “Catherine watch me!” “Catherine get me grilled cheese!” “Catherine I wanna play a game!” “Catherine where’s my stuffie?” “No, not THAT stuffie!” “I wanna watch more cartoons! Catherine what’s a good cartoon?” “Catherine buy me that! Buy me that!” From one angle, it was like having to be a nanny to a child who could murder her. From another angle it was like having to be an undead monster’s thrall AND wipe her ass for her. Yes, she blushed more and she was unusually cheerful most of the time, but it was no less draining than when Melissa had feasted on an MMA pit fighter and needed a sparring partner. She thought that adult babies were supposed to be submissive! Now, Catherine had learned that there was such a thing as topping from the bottom. Whenever Catherine changed her diaper or fed her a bottle, she got quiet in a weird type of happiness paralysis, but it was like when a lion had you rub her tummy. Purring or not, you didn’t take your eyes off the teeth. When Catherine had been tempted into this service, she practically knew she’d be giving up motherhood...now she wished she had. “CATHERIIIINE! NUGGIES!” Catherine took the plate of chicken nuggets into the T.V. room. It was two in the morning and Melissa was watching the same episode of Vampirina for the seventh or eighth time. She bounced in her highchair, slapping the feeding tray. “NUGGIES! NUGGIES! NUGGIES!” Oh yes, the vampire had an adult sized high chair, now. The entire manor was slowly being converted into a giant daycare. Packages kept arriving at the manor. Not just diapers and clothes either. Highchair. Changing table. Crib. Melissa had ordered them all and it was up to Catherine to assemble them while she slept. All proportional and very very heavy. And then, in a few days when the blood war off, Catherine would have to disassemble them, and fold all the cute big baby clothes and put them off somewhere to be forgotten about or burnt. Then she’d have to get the habits and hobbies of whoever the next victim was. But for tonight, it was just chicken nuggets. Melissa was well into her fourth helping, and had honey mustard and barbecue sauce smeared all over her lips. “Here you are, little Master.” She put the next course of overly processed children’s food on the tray. The babied vampire looked down at them and her face twisted into one of pure disgust. “These aren’t dinosaur shaped!” “We ran out of the dinosaur shaped ones,” Catherine said carefully. “These are still very good. They’ll taste absolutely lovely “I! WANT! DINOSAUR SHAPES!” The strength and speed of the plate being flung against the near wall was practically a lightning strike. The shattering of the dish and the scattering of the chicken rang out like thunder. Melissa had shown such an unpredictable temperament before. Under most circumstances, Catherine would have been terrified; startled into submission. She should be scrambling to pick up the pieces while saying bright and happy things to appease her master. Catherine knew this. This wasn’t most circumstances, however... Catherine stepped up to the adult sized high chair and waggled her finger. “Nnnno!” She sounded like she was scolding a puppy. “Nnno! Bad girl!” Was there really that much difference between one and the other? “Bad girl?” Melissa echoed. She looked spooked. Genuinely hurt. Hurt! Yes! That was something she’d read about. Something Catherine hadn’t done yet. With as much courage as she could muster, the middle aged woman unclicked the tray off of the high chair and tossed it onto the floor. “Bad girl? What are -?” Before the vampire could react, Catherine grabbed her by the ear and started dragging her out onto the couch. It felt like her heart was about to explode. She was grabbing a tiger by the tail and hoping it thought it was a kidden. “Bad girl! We do not throw our food!” Spurred on by her own momentum, Catherine sat down on the sofa. Incredibly, her vampire master followed, splaying across the heavy set woman’s lap. Only one thing left to do. “NO!” She slapped the immortal’s padded bottom as hard as she could. “NO! BAD GIRL!” The sound was impressive, but from the cushion and the pulp from the diaper, Catherine knew it couldn’t have hurt too badly. Even real children required more than a few swats to leave a mark. A nigh invincible predator wouldn’t feel a thing. Except...the most miraculous thing happened. Melissa started to cry. She started to wail and bawl and squirm in Catherine’s lap. And even though she could likely bench press a grown-man, she screamed and mewled impotently. So what did Catherine do? She kept spanking the brat of course! ************************************************************************************* Bad little girls get spankings! Bad little girls get time outs! Bad little girls lose their Mommy’s and Daddy’s love! Being a bad little girl was the worst of all possible worlds! Those words, unprompted, were racing and raging through Melissa’s skull. She couldn’t help it! When the words came to her, even if they weren’t her words they were said in her voice. They were the same words that told her if she wanted to be good she shouldn’t use the potty and shouldn’t hold it in. They were the same words that told her to eat in her highchair and watch cartoons. The same words that made her want chicken nuggies and cuddles and attention. Ooooh the attention! Now she was getting attention; the wrong kind of attention. The words were screaming inside her own skull, with Melissa powerless to stop them. Her body was unimpressed with the flurry of blows raining down on her diapered bottom. The words in her mind, however, insisted that they hurt. So they did. Like a steak being driven through her heart. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO! STOOOOOOOP!” “You’ve had this coming for a long time, little missy!”, Catherine yelled. She didn’t let up for an instant. “A! VERY! LONG! TIME!” Little! She was little! Helpless! A baby! A bad baby! A bad little girl! NO! Melissa had wanted to be good! She hadn’t meant to be bad! She was trying to be good! She just thought that doing what she wanted to do all the time was good! She wasn’t being mean on purpose! She just needed someone to tell her what good and bad was! She just needed...she just needed a …. “Moooooooommmeeeeeeee!” Melissa wailed, kicking feebly over Catherine’s lap. “Pleeeeease! I’ll be good!” The spanking paused. Melissa could feel Catherine peering down at the back of her head; could feel the spanking hand still raised, ready to strike. “What did you call me?” Like an owl, Melissa turned her head all the way around. Despite being something no human could do, she felt weak and helpless in the normal woman’s lap. “Mommy?” A bizarre glint came to the woman’s eyes. “Yes,” she smiled. “Yes you did. Now, are you going to be a good little girl for Mommy or am I going to have to spank you some more and put you in time out?” Time out?! Not time out?! Not more spanking! Be a good girl! Good girls listened to their Mommy! “I’m going to be a good girl.” The predator brain inside the vampire realized how hard Mommy’s heart was pounding, but the thousand pounds of kink and conditioning that was piled up on top attributed it to excitement rather than fear. “You’ve made quite a mess of everything,” Mommy said. “After I change you and put you into a clean onesie, you’re going to clean up your mess.” Mommy started standing up. Reflexively, Melissa made herself lighter. Mommy noticed. “Good girl.” The words were music to Melissa’s ears. The only thing better was what came next: “Let’s get you into a nice dry diaper.” “Yes Mommy…I’m sorry Mommy.” Mommy repositioned her and started patting her on the back on the way to the changing table. “I know you are, Melissa. I know you are.” She sounded kind of sad, actually. “You’re nothing if not sincere when you’re like this.” “I just wanted…” Melissa stumbled. “I didn’t mean to be bad...I just wanted…” What was the word. “Attention?” Mommy offered. “Yeah…” “Hmmmm…..” Melissa heard Mommy smiling, her ears literally pricking up at the upturning of her lips. “I think I might have an idea…” ****************************************************************************************************** Lorraine Schmitt stood shaking in her shoes. What kind of fucked up place was this? On the outside it was an impressive estate; upper echelon on the edge of the city. And on the inside? On the inside it was a dream come true. Just the wrong dream….the dream Lorraine never would have told anyone. A play pen. A ball pit. A walker. A bouncer. A playmat for tummy time and one with a mobile. A rocking horse. A sit and spin. A tricycle. A frankly absurd amount of non-choking toys. This place had a baby; just one that was much bigger than usual. That’s how the fantasy went. That’s how Lorraine’s fantasies went. A giant nursery for a giant baby that was already done growing up. Usually run by an idle rich person with too much money and love to give who would just love to spoil a little girl rotten. Lorraine wasn’t really a little girl, not by most definitions. But since she started those self-hypnosis tapes, it was getting easier and easier for her to think of herself as one. Especially in her nursery at home...her nursery that now perfectly paled in comparison to this palatial wonderland. It was better than even Capcon. This place was so big it could be it’s own ABDL convention center. “And this is the kitchen,” the client, a Miss Catherine O’Hara finished the tour. “Any questions?” “Um…” Lorraine choked out, “What does this have to do with insurance?” She was playing dumb out of self-preservation and habit more than anything. “Oh? That?” the middle-aged, slightly overweight woman said. “That was a lie just to get you here.” “Why do you want me here?” “Because,” Miss O’Hara said. “I’ve already got one lovely little girl. I thought I could use a second.” Little girl! She was a little girl! She wanted to be a good girl! A good girl! The insurance agent bit her tongue, doing her best to block out the voice in her head that sounded so much like her own. “I’m not running an adoption agency…” Miss O’Hara let out a little growl. “Fine, little miss. We’ll do this the hard way.” Her voice went into a high, playful musical tone. “You can either come with me and get everything you ever wanted like a good girl.” Her voice lowered back down, “Or you can be a bad girl and after I spank you and put you in time out, I’ll tell everyone you know know about your nursery and diapers at home. Lorraine nearly fell over, feeling like her brain was on fire. So many of her trigger words set off at once! It was almost too much to stand. This wasn’t supposed to happen! Not until she found someone to trust! Not until she was ready to be little full time with someone. This wasn’t real! It couldn’t be! It was like...it was like so many of the stories that she read online. “The hypno recordings you’ve been playing in your sleep are quite a doozy,” Miss O’Hara cooed. “Poor thing. I’m very sorry it’s going this way. But I’m a little short on time. I’ve only got a night or two left, you see.” Lorraine almost collapsed from excitement and mental exhaustion. Her walls wouldn’t last long. They weren’t meant to. “Please…” “Of course,” Miss O’Hara said. “Of course I’ll please you. Mommy will take care of you. Good good, care.” Mommy! She had to be a good girl for Mommy! “Stand up, dear, Mommy can’t carry you.” On wobbly, Bambi-like legs, Lorraine was being led deper into the house. She couldn’t resist; not enough of her wanted to. How did one fight against their wildest dreams when the alternative was one of their darkest nightmares. “That’s right. Come with me to the nursery. Then we’ll get you into a nice dry diaper.” Diapers! She needed diapers! Good girls wore their diapers! A wet patch blossomed between her legs. Her bladder wasn’t even waiting for her to be wrapped up and secure in crinkling plastic. “Why...why are you doing this?” Lorraine whimpered. “How do you even know this?” “It’s my job to know such things, little girl,” Miss...Mommy said. “Or it was. If I must confess, I got a little sloppy when I was researching you. Good thing I did. Otherwise I might still have my old job.” “What...what are you talking...?” They were entering a bedroom; an adult baby nursery. Lorraine wasn’t even close to surprised, and only eighty percent of her was thrilled at this. She was powerless to resist when she was boosted onto an ornate adult changing table. “Mommy?” A new voice called out from a darkened corner of the room. “Is that her?” “Yes Melissa,” Mommy said. “But I need to get her changed first. Then you two can get to know each other.” A brick of Lorraine’s willpower fell out of the wall as she started sucking on her thumb. “She really is a baby,” the new voice said. “Just like me.” Mommy yanked the young woman’s pants and underwear off. “Oh you have no idea,” she chuckled. “I think you two will have a lot of fun together.” She was being changed! By someone else! It was finally happening! Finally! She was a good baby! A good girl! Lorraine boosted her hips up so that a thick four taped Bunny Hops could be slid underneath her. That was one of her favorites! How did this woman know? “”I don’t believe in fate,” Mommy said. “But I do believe in happy accidents.” She gently and expertly wiped and powdered Lorraine clean, then brought the diaper up and taped it on. “And you’re going to have a lot more happy accidents, my little girl.” She sat Lorraine back off and removed her bra and blouse from her. “The only hard part for you, I think, is adjusting your sleep schedule. You’ll get used to it though.” “Get used to what?” Lorraine asked, thrilling and hearing the crinkle with her tits out and bouncing. Another woman, another little girl crinkled forward. She was skinnier than Mommy. Taller and paler too. Her long black hair was done up in pigtails, which was funny, because that’s exactly how Lorraine would have styled it if she had hair like this. Same for the use of the dark purple onesie to complement her pallid flesh. She was something of a goth by the looks of it, but definitely still a baby. “So...first thing’s first,” Mommy said. “Lorraine. This is your new sister. You don’t know it, but you’ve been a very positive influence on her this last week. You’re going to continue being a positive influence.” “Yes...Mommy…” Lorraine was already shivering with joy. She was going to be a good girl. She was going to have a sister. She was going to have a Mommy! “Melissa,” Mommy said. “This is your new sister. Whenever you need blood, you feed from her. Not too much though. She’s very delicate. Do you understand?” The paler baby girl smiled. “Yes Mommy. I’ll be super careful.” That’s when the fangs came out… As the fangs sank in and Lorraine started feeling woozy, she heard Mommy coo. “Good girls. Both of you. Forever.”

The best part of either naptime or bedtime is being put into a onesie or abdl pajamas by my wife It really makes the true comfort. Especially when wearing a diaper. What do others wear over their diaper during naptime or bedtime.

My current goal is to reduce the use of diapers, mainly to save money. So today I put on a boxer, and then I got the urge to pee... boxer got wet. It wasn't a loss of control accident, as I voluntarily started to pee, forgetting that I didn't wear a diaper. They say habit's are hard to get rid of..

When i put my Diaper on i pull up between my legs as close as possible to my crouch. Hold between my legs, back up against the wall and stick bottom tapes as close to the front as i can, then then top tapes i usualy start from the right first. Then ajust the diaper guards. But first i fold a new diaper guards to guards fluff a bit and leave before wear usual a few days before wear. Hope that helps Mike78

I primarily use the but the diaper behind me and back up against the wall (or something convenient) to hold it there while I bring it up between my legs and do the tapes. Sometimes I can just hold it between my legs and do it without other assistance.

I would say a terrible idea as the foundation is lying to your partner. If you love your partner then why would you lie and deceive them?

Kigurumis! Those are the one-piece pajamas with tails and hoodies themed to different animals. I have a kangaroo one, an Umbreon one, a Totoro one, a deer one, a kitty one, and a puffin one! They are very hard to use the bathroom when wearing so they are perfect for wearing diapers!

uhhhhh a little creeped out here, no one here has ever seen what i look like(as far as i know), personally i think im damn ugly, hell revenge of the fugly has nightmares of me, and it aint changed since i was a pup, ugly then ugly now(and i like that, helps me to not be involved with anyone in any personal ways, im not wired for that, its an autistic thing), as for changing me, UHH UHH, NOOOOOOOO, if i cant change myself, id rather be dead, im very private, i live by the rule "from neck to knees, no one touches, no one sees", and cling to that even if it kills me!

Oh... today's not Friday? But... oh! It's a full moon! And the sixteenth? Guess I should post part sixteen then! https://toofplaypen.wordpress.com/2022/02/16/first-moon-forever-16/ I followed her through the gate. Dense trees on either side of the driveway. After about a quarter mile we came out of the woods and I saw the gorgeous wood cabin. Behind it the lake stretched out, water glistening in the morning sun. It was more like something from a painting than what I would ever have expected. I could've never in my life anticipated I would be moving into a place like this, to live with the most wonderful woman I had ever met and I had only known her for a week. I parked beside Liliana and got out to get my bags. Liliana stopped me, grabbing my shoulder and bouncing a little. She was so giddy it made me grin. "We can get your stuff out later! I want to show you around first." She gestured at the wilderness around us. "And tonight I'll show you around this!" My eyes were wide as I turned to take it all in. Driving up it had already seemed vast, but now that I was out of my car I felt so small. I had never been a real city kid, but I hadn't been in this much nature either. I felt overwhelmed and at home at the same time. The little wolf in the back of my mind was practically vibrating. It made me realize I was sniffing at the air. My eyes closed and I took in the world around me. "Good." I opened my eyes to see mommy watching me and I cocked my head. "You're allowing the wolf to access her home with you. I've seen so many new wolves fight their instincts. It takes them longer to find the balance." I blushed and tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. "I guess it doesn't hurt that I wanted it either?" I mused idly out loud. Liliana pulled me into a big hug. "It sure doesn't!" She tugged me along into the house. I stepped through the front door into a cozy little living room. Marsha was on the couch playing a Pokémon game. "Hi squirt!" She greeted, tilting her head back smiling before going back to the game. I stuck my tongue out at her and laughed. Liliana took me around the house. The kitchen was amazing. There were a couple bedrooms, the master, mine with all my things already setup, two guests and one empty one. "This… this can be your nursery if you want?" She opened the closet to reveal the stash of diapers and clothes she had already had. "That sounds fun, but I have wondered why you already had stuff ready?" "Oh, well, I always hoped I'd find a little girl like you, but diapers are also just comfy." I thought for a moment. I really wanted to play with that, so after a beat I burst out "Ooooh! MOMMY IS A CRINKLEBUTT!" Marsha burst into giggle snorts in the other room as Liliana's eyes widened and she blushed. "I… well…" She stammered and for a moment I thought I had messed up, but Marsha stuck her head into the room. "Ma! You found the perfect little brat for you!" She teased and Liliana fought the slight grin. "Both of you are brats!" She fake whined at us. "And you're the crinkle butt, I just had to make sure your diapers were comfy enough for such a tiny baby." My face scrunched up in a huff. I tried to protest, but I couldn't. My feet shuffled before I bounced over and hugged her. "Thank you mommy! You picked the cutest, most babyish diapers to introduce me to… me!" Kill them with sweetness, right? The rest of the day the three of us lounged around the house with games, movies and internet shopping. Marsha and Liliana gushing over how cute the types of things I picked for my nursery playroom were. They were both eating it up and I was living for their praise. ~~~~~~~~~~~ "Again, it is going to hurt at first, but don't try and fight it. Once it's over, the pain just goes away." Liliana gave my hand one last squeeze before stepping away. The sun was just about down, I was encircled by pack and I could feel the wolf getting antsy. My skin rippled as fur sprouted. My bones ached and shifted. I could feel my organs shutting down while I watched my nose grow out in front of my eyes. My ears stretched and migrated further up my head. My tail burst out behind me. Organs, now rearranged and once again working as they should, made me feel like I was going to vomit for a moment, but instead I lifted my head and let out a howl. "Oh lass, her fur is white and silver. The girl is beautiful." Winnie commented. I was beautiful? The wolf girl was very happy to hear this and I hopped on all fours with joy before testing my balance on two. I looked to Liliana in front of me and… "Oh my, it looks like her wolf is as wee as she is!" I had gotten smaller? Liliana, still in human form now looked me in my eyes. "My little pup." She cooed, giving my ear a scritch before stepping away to let the change take her as well. The rest of the pack followed her lead. I watched as her silver grey form emerged before me and grew. She must've been over seven foot tall now. I got close and nuzzled into her. My lover, my mommy, my alpha. <Edited by @Alice-chan>

Hello! I respectfully submit that the term I would use for this process is "lock-in," ultimately derived from vendor lock-in. To me, the verb "spiral," ultimately from graveyard spiral, refers to a loss of continence which is unusually rapid and resistant to being regulated, either objectively or subjectively. I am definitely not a prescriptivist. If the word "spiral" now corresponds to the concept I called "lock-in," I'll absolutely go with the flow. However, it seems as if your questions about spiralling are concerned with what I would call spiralling, and people certainly seem to be answering them under the impression that that is the case. I am quoting this in a tangential way, totally unrelated to the topic of the thread, but in terms of susceptibility to hypnosis, the strongest predictor, in my experience, is the subject's average level of dissociation. I have noted, for example, that hormonal gender transition, which is thought with high confidence to decrease dissociative symptoms in a subject, also seems to increase susceptibility to hypnosis. I first noticed this when it happened to me, but after looking around a bit, it seems like I'm not the only one. I am also generally an empiricist. I don't think hypnosis is magic; I do think it works in some cases — not that you claimed otherwise. As a musician with an academic background, I strongly suspect that hypnosis is mechanically simply something like instrument practice or effective academic study, but in a very concentrated form. This is 100% the kind of thing I would describe as a spiral. I'm getting this feeling. The untraining methodology in which I am most interested is based on the Twelve Month Diaper-Training Program (I feel like the equivalent of a street preacher for the damn thing). The Program provides and/or my experience indicates that, in that context, day wetting comes before bedwetting; both are generated by the same processes; well-established bedwetting is largely irreversible and severely undermines day wetting control; and both day wetting and bedwetting undermine messing control. However, pretty much everyone in the world who had a different experience seems to be in this forum. At least two people here have mentioned to me that their bedwetting control was pretty malleable. One person has mentioned being able to recover significant bladder control, but no bowel control at all. I would love to incorporate these folks' results into my understanding of the world, but I don't yet understand how they got there. I very strongly believe spiralling is heavily psychological. The psychological variable to which I personally intuitively attribute the strongest influence on continence is one's belief concerning whether one has control, which could definitely be heavily influenced by what one wants to be true, although isn't ultimately entirely a branch of it. I think I've mentioned in this forum before that I had a pretty checkered continence history through childhood and adolescence, but was functionally continent at the time I chose to go back into diapers full-time. My progression was more or less complete incontinence and constant bedwetting —> very good continence —> light to moderate urinary incontinence, severe faecal incontinence, relatively limited bedwetting —> decent but shaky continence —> 24/7, untraining, and complete incontinence. Five months into wearing, I was aware that my wetting control was worse, but not by a huge amount. I started voluntarily messing about 6 or 7 months in. I started involuntarily wetting the bed about nine months in. Sometime between 7 and 12 months in, my wetting control took an absolute dive without my being consciously aware; I know because 12 months in I got cold feet and tried to leave diapers but couldn't stay dry long enough, which is definitely a dramatic change relative to the 5-month mark. My bedwetting got rapidly worse after the 12-month mark. At about 1 year 3 months, I had the first messing accident I am actually sure of (there were a few occasions before that where I thought I was voluntarily messing but wasn't sure). By comparison to my wetting control, my messing control fell apart really fast; by 1 year 9 months, more often than not I simply could not make it. I think that psychology may have played a part. I observed that my control in general seemed to collapse at a rate that was a little on the speedy side when compared to others' experiences, and I strongly suspect that might just have been because I didn't have the same confidence in my control that I might have had if I had been continent my whole life. I think that because I hadn't been a regular bedwetter since childhood, developing regular bedwetting as an adult made a significant further dent in my confidence of control. I started thinking about this while I was losing my messing control, because at the time, while it appealed to me as an AB/DL, it absolutely scared the shit out of me on a conscious level (no pun intended). My first messing accident inaugurated a state of constant anxiety that took months and months to dissipate, and further messing accidents exacerbated it to the point of full-on hyperventilating, sweating bullets. I was desperately trying to avoid losing my messing control that whole time, but was not ultimately able to. I know at the time I didn't consciously want to lose it, so I assumed it had to be something unconscious. After several years of thinking, "confidence in one's own control" is the best guess I can come up with.

I took the liberty of editing this paragraph…. However, incontinence padding, (namely DIAPERS) has its own disadvantages. First, it requires frequent changing, thus making it both labor intensive and expensive (see appendix A), and, second, wearers risk skin breakdown. On the other hand diapers are delightfully soft and comfortable and are great for making one feel safe and snug and cute.

I’m currently in an abu simple

update:just woke up in very messy tykables overnights going to change into a tykables little builders otherwise i will probably start to leak most of us know that leaking isn't fun and mommy won't be impressed.

Well, they sold Biden....

I haven't tried Coke Zero, it's worth a shot. More for mom though, I am going to avoid putting sodas back on my diet for now as its a weakness of mine.

I switched to sugar free drinks ages ago. Actually can't stand the HFCS laden stuff at all. That's High Fructose Corn Syrup, or what the beverage companies switched to back in the 80s (or maybe even the 70s) because it's sweeter and cheaper than cane or beet sugar (sucrose) that we normally associate as sugar. Might I suggest trying "Coke Zero" instead? (Not Diet Coke - that stuff is flat out nasty!)

There's an ABDL Mastodon instance https://abdl.link

There's one sad face for the potty training calendar.

I don't pee my pants, I pee my diaper.

It's a terrible idea. If you want to wear diapers as your underwear, just do it.

I don't think you have any cause for concern with your ending. It felt a titch rushed, but your story is filled with a very erratic pace. A fitting structure for a story about insanity. I'm super satisfied with it and glad I came back in time to see the end. The story works wonderfully for a binge. You did a fantastic job and should be very proud of this work.

not half as persuasive as my stubbornness, its one of my most important rules, if or when i get a heart attack and a nurse in admission would say "we need to do a body check"(its standard, i understand that, i also dont care) id say "umm no, just put patient refused body check" , neck to knees, no one touches, no one sees.

Chapter Twenty Four Figuring It All Out Sometimes you just need to take stock of your life, evaluate the choices you’ve made and whether they’ve positively or negatively impacted you. Waking up in your childhood home, your makeup mussed from sleeping, your asshole sore from your wife taking your anal virginity as you came on an open diaper on the bed, the smell of her messy diaper from the night before mixing with the smell of the urine you’d soaked her, yourself, and the bed with during the night, and the knowledge that you’d willingly submitted to becoming her baby girl so you could be allowed to cum the night of your mother’s funeral is enough to make any sane and rational person freak out a little bit, right? The thing is, all those things added up to more shame and humiliation than I could stand after just waking up, still fresh off an evening that saw my sister, wife, and daughters give me a makeover and submitting to Petra so completely, I let myself remain the baby girl and cried as I shook her awake. “What’s wr-” she started to ask, sitting up and putting her hand right in the middle of my wet spot, her face turning from confusion to sympathy in a moment as she hugged me tightly. “Shh, it’s alright, Zelly.” she whispered as she rubbed my back. I was sincerely distraught at my accident, flashbacks of my father’s disappointment with my inability to keep the bed dry rushing back as I blubbered over her shoulder. “It was an accident, I didn’t mean it!” I whined. She nodded softly. “I know, baby.” she said reassuringly as she rubbed my back in little circles, “Mommy knows.” she added. She let me go for a moment and went to her bag, returning with a yellow pacifier with a cartoon bumblebee on it that she gently inserted into my mouth, my emotions had gone so far out of control that the bulb in my mouth actually felt good, and I began to suck softly on it as I sniffled the clear liquid running from my nose. She watched me for a moment, a sympathetic smile on her face as she sat back down on the bed beside me. “It was Mommy’s fault for not getting you into a diaper for bed, sweetie.” she said, her hand on my knee. “When we get home we’ll make sure you have a stock of your own diapers, okay?” she asked. I sniffled and nodded as I continued to suck the pacifier. She smiled wider. “Actually!” she said, getting her phone off the nightstand and looking exclusively at it as she touched the screen a few times. “Princesses?” she asked, holding up the phone for me to see the pink princess diapers we’d been using that didn’t quite fit good enough, she gasped and then giggled, “Nevermind, I’ve got the perfect diapers for my Zelly.” she said, tapping the screen a few more times and then typing away. “There!” she chirped happily, “They’ll probably arrive the same day or the day after we get home!” she said. I looked past her to her phone. “Can I see?” I asked sheepishly. She shook her head and booped my nose. “It’s a surprise, silly girl!” she playfully admonished. I blushed and giggled unintentionally. She sniffed the air and groaned. “Mommy stinks.” she said with a pout. “How about you and I take a bath together while everyone else is still asleep?” she asked. I felt my manhood stiffen and nodded. She got up from the bed and held out her hand for me to take, grabbing the pack of wipes with her other hand. “You need to be very quiet though so we don’t wake the other babies.” she said, putting her finger to her lips to illustrate the quiet I was meant to be. I took her hand and nodded as I climbed off the bed and let her lead me to the door. The hallway was dark save for a nightlight halfway down the hall going to the bathroom, and we crept quietly that way, making it to the bathroom without raising any alarms. Once the door was closed behind us I watched as Petra turned on the water for the bath and handled getting out of her diaper and getting clean enough to get in the tub. I was rock hard as I sucked my pacifier and watched her wipe herself, her shapely backside jiggling softly as she moved, her milk filled breasts swaying freely. “Are you always going to be this excited?” she asked playfully. I blushed but stayed quiet. She stepped into the tub and plugged the drain to start it filling and beckoned me to her with her index finger. I hurried to her and let her take my hand to help me step into the tub and stood before her, the head of my cock against her stomach as she closed the gap between us. “I want you to tell me all your littlest and girliest fantasies.” she whispered. I softly shook my head as my cheeks flushed. She smirked and nodded equally softly. “That wasn’t a request, Zelly.” she said. “Tell Mommy everything you want.” she added, reaching up to pull the pacifier from my mouth, pulling back from me to show me that she was dipping it in and out of her glistening sex. My heart beat faster as my breathing became more rapid, my cock drooling at the sight of her teasing me. “If you don’t tell me then I’ll just have to try everything I can think of.” she said. “Maybe I’ll start with a cute little photo shoot of Zelly’s first dress with her new diapers underneath.” she mused. My mouth was dry as I watched the pacifier go in and out of her, my desire to have it back in my mouth to taste her sweet juices driving me wild. She watched me watching her and smiled, “Maybe I’ll see if any of your friends want to help train you to cum like a girl.” she said. “I’ll bet Alan has a nice juicy cock.” she added. My face went pale. “No, Mommy!” I exclaimed in a hushed whisper. She pulled the pacifier from her lips and held it up to mine. “Then you better tell me what you actually want, Zelly.” she said as she lightly teased the teat against my lips. I opened my mouth and greedily took the pacifier into it, sucking and licking the juices from its surface, shuddering with pleasure as I felt her mouth on my cock, working it in much the same way I was working the pacifier in mine. “Pwetty cwothes.” I said softly. “Mmhmm.” she mumbled. I was shamefully close to cumming, much faster than I normally would during a blowjob. I searched my feelings, blushing as different things came to mind, “Cuckowd.” I said. Her mouth left my dick. “Cuckold?” she asked. I nodded softly, whimpering at the loss of the pleasure her mouth provided. “You want me to fuck another man while you’re playing baby girl?” she asked. I nodded again. Her finger traced the underside of my shaft lightly, “Does Zelly want a Daddy?” she asked. I shook my head vehemently. “Are you sure?” she asked. “You seem pretty excited about the idea.” she added as she stroked me. I shook my head. “I just want to try it.” I confessed. “I want to spend a night in the nursery knowing that I wasn’t man enough to be with you.” I explained, taking the pacifier from my mouth to speak clearly. She giggled. “Sweetie, you’re always man enough to be with me.” she cooed, kissing the head of my cock. “Can it be a woman?” she asked after a moment of thought. I looked down at her quizzically. “Well, I’m not into fucking another guy, humiliation for you or not.” she said, “But a girl would be fine, as long as it still worked for you.” she explained. I nodded. “It was just a thought.” I said, returning the pacifier to my mouth. She reached behind me and shut the water off before lowering herself into the water, taking my hands to guide me down with her. “Serious question before any of this goes too far.” she said. I nodded. “Are you alright?” she asked. I sighed. “I’m spinning out of control being back here.” I told her, removing the pacifier and setting it on the lip of the tub. “All of this stuff from my childhood and losing my mom, the shame of being so turned on by all of this sissy shit, the thoughts I’m having when I venture further down that path, it’s a lot to try and deal with all at once.” I confessed. She had grabbed a washcloth and was cleaning the smeared makeup from my face. “What kinds of thoughts?” she asked. I shrugged. “Stuff like you were talking about.” I said nervously. “Showing my friends, asking Alan to fuck me, having a Daddy.” I told her. “Like, I don’t want those things because I’m not gay, but at the same time, that level of humiliation and degradation is exactly what makes me hard about all this.” I explained. She nodded and smiled at me. “I knew I liked diapers since I was little.” she said. “I knew I was into girls since around that time, even if I didn’t equate either of those things to sex, I just knew that those were things I wanted for myself to be happy.” she explained as she washed herself below the water. “Your mom kind of fucked you up by dressing you like a baby girl when you were at a very impressionable age, coupled with your dad being strongly against that kind of stuff meant you had instant repression and that’s coming out now and it’s not subtle about being seen.” she said. I sighed and leaned back against the wall of the tub. “What do I do?” I asked. She smiled again, “Experiment.” she said. “You have a loving and supportive and kinky as fuck wife, try anything that you think you might be into.” she added. “I’m scared.” I confessed. “Of?” she asked. I shrugged. “I dunno, what if I try something and it like awakens something in me and it turns out I’m gay?” I asked. She stared at me. “Are you gay?” she asked. “No.” I told her. She cleared her throat and leaned forward to put a hand on my shoulder, “Nothing can turn you gay.” she said. “I swear, you straight men are kinda stupid when it comes to your concept of sexuality.” she chided. “Sucking dick doesn’t make you gay, letting another man fuck you doesn’t make you gay, what makes you gay is being born gay.” she explained. I blushed. “Would you still love me if I did those things?” I asked. “With my consent and approval?” she asked, “Absolutely!” she said. “Now, if I discover that you’ve been sneaking around behind my back to get plowed by Alan, then I’ll be pissed.” she said, giggling softly at the continued mentioning of Alan, “Look, you and I do all manner of kinky shit together and with other people, right?” she asked. I nodded. “So, if I dress you up and make you all pretty for a nice date with a guy that really wants a sweet sissy baby, then that’s us, a married couple, having a kinky relationship.” she explained. “No different than you playing Daddy to all the girls on game night.” she said. I sighed. “I want to take all of this slow.” I told her. “I want us to see a counselor like we talked about, you and I together and us and the girls as a family.” I said. She nodded. “I just want you to be happy.” she said. “Same.” I told her. She beckoned me to her and pulled me close as I turned around and slid between her legs, resting my back against her front and my head on her shoulder. “I’m yours and your mine.” she whispered. “You’ve been the best Daddy a little girl could ask for and I’m committed to being the best Mommy you could ask for.” she said. I nodded softly, sighing as her hand gently gripped me below the water. “All this talk of fat cock Alan must be driving you wild.” she teased. I chuckled softly and turned to kiss her cheek. “He’d never go for it, his anime girl pillow’s would divorce him.” I told her. She giggled and put her other arm around me. “Zack or Zelda, Daddy or baby, I love you forever and always.” she said. “I love you too.” I said, “Forever and always.” I added. We stayed like that until she finished me off and we drained the tub and dried ourselves before creeping back to our room to gather up the bedding to wash. “Did your dad come home last night?” she asked as she stripped the bedding with me. I shrugged. “We were out and I didn’t hear him come home before that.” I said. She took the pile of bedding and set it on the floor by the door, sighing softly. “I wish we were home so I could go put this stuff in naked.” she grumbled. “I’ll do it, it’s my mess.” I told her, blushing softly. She smirked. “Can Zelly be my little diapered maid sometimes?” she asked. I pulled my shorts on and a shirt and ignored her, listening to her stifled giggles as I headed out the door and downstairs. The house was still dark and a quick check in my dad’s room found it empty, worried as I was, I sighed in relief at not having him find me washing wet sheets so many years later, though I would obviously blame Petra for it were he to have seen. “Yeah, he’s not here.” I told Petra when I got back upstairs. “Is that like him?” she asked. I shrugged. “He went out with his friends, I assume he got drunk and crashed there.” I said. “Are we staying another day?” she asked. I shook my head. “I figured we’d leave when Harriet and Lucy did.” I said. “If they stayed the night.” she pointed out. I headed out the door and quietly opened the door to the room across the hall just enough to listen for the sound of either Harriet or Lucy sleeping, a loud snore making me jump slightly before I closed the door and went down the hall to check on Ducky and Rochelle, finding them cuddled together in their bed and returned to Petra nodding. “They’re here.” I said. “I missed Lucy.” she said, laying a diaper on the wet spot inside down before laying on the bed. I nodded. “I can’t believe she didn’t say anything about getting married.” I said. She shrugged. “Her life.” she offered. “I would like her and Harriet to visit us or us them, build that relationship back up.” she said. I smiled at her and joined her on the bed. “Last night was the first time in a long time I felt like I had a sister.” I confessed. She kissed my cheek and nodded. “She was really supportive of the whole Zelda thing, didn’t even bat an eye.” she commented. I blushed. “She’d seen it before.” I reminded her. “I know, but that was when you were a kid, it’s kind of different when you see your adult brother in a too small girl’s diaper.” she said. “Besides, she watched you mess yourself and told you how proud of you she was.” she added. I blushed hotly at the reminder of my behavior the night before. Petra smirked. “If they lived closer I’d definitely cuckold you with either her or Harriet.” she said. I glowered. “My sister is off limits.” I said. She giggled. “Relax, I was teasing.” she said, running her fingers up my arm, “Besides, I don’t have any clue what their marriage is like, they might not be into it.” she added with a shrug. I sighed. “Lucy would definitely be into it,” I said, “when she was in college she was bedding every man and woman that showed even the slightest interest.” I explained. “What must that be like.” she joked. “You’re different.” I told her, “Yeah, you see the challenge of turning any woman you’re attracted to into a baby, but we have an understanding.” I explained. She nodded. “No boys allowed.” she said definitively. “Right, and you’ve never broken that rule.” I said. “Lucy is a rule breaker, if Harriet told her something was off limits she’d stew over being denied, get it in her head that she was justified in breaking an unfair rule and do it the first chance she got.” I explained. “She’d ruin her marriage for that instant gratification.” I added. She kissed my lips softly. “Don’t get worked up, baby.” she whispered. I kissed her back and put my hand on her hip, absently stroking her warm skin with my palm. “So, how do you want to handle all of this Zelda stuff with the girls?” I asked. She softly stroked my cheek with her hand and shrugged. “Nothing to handle, really.” she said nonchalantly. “They want to go back to school and start dating, so they’ll be busy with their own lives and we’ll be free to do whatever we want.” she explained. “We need structure though.” I reminded. She sighed wistfully. “Alright, you and I will alternate the parent role as needed, they’ll go to school and have an expectation for grades as well as work or securing an income of some kind, and we’ll monitor their romantic relationship and step in if need be.” she explained. “Sound good?” she asked. I nodded. “We should adopt Ducky before we do anything else.” I said. “You think?” she asked. I nodded again. “We’ve been introducing her as our daughter, we think of her that way, she wants it, I think it’s best for us to do it.” I said. “Plus, she’ll be covered if anything happens to us.” I added. She smiled and kissed me again. “You’re a good man, Zack.” she said softly, cuddling me and burying her face into my chest. We lay together in a warm and loving embrace in silence, just enjoying our time together until we heard the stirrings of people waking up in the other rooms. “That’s our cue.” she said as she pulled away and rolled off the bed to get dressed. I watched her and felt calm and happy, in love with her as much as I’d been when we started dating, wondering how I’d gotten so lucky to have such an understanding and supportive woman in my life that loved me and would do anything to see me happy as much as I would for her. ********* The morning hours were spent with Harriet bustling around to get herself ready while Lucy continued to sleep, waking her charge and getting her changed, bathed and dressed for the day. Petra took control of handling Ducky and Rochelle with me “helping”, which mostly consisted of throwing used diapers away and fetching requested items from the diaper bag or suitcase. Harriet and Petra gave each of the rest of us a job to do to help clean up the house while they took care of the more involved jobs of washing clothes and making beds. Once my job of picking up the living room was done Petra excused us and led me upstairs by the hand to get me into a diaper for the drive home. I offered no resistance or protest as she stripped me of my clothes and got me powdered and diapered, redressing me and patting my bottom softly once she helped me off the changing mat on the floor. “You’ll be in the back with the other babies.” she said as she disrobed to get her own diaper on, watching me watching her as she gently rubbed powder into her groin. “I can do that for you.” I reminded her. She smiled up at me. “Of course you can, angel.” she cooed in a playfully mocking tone. Once we were both dressed and the diaper bag was packed up we headed back downstairs and I started taking our bags out to the car. “Girls, come exchange numbers with Aunt Lucy.” Petra called to Ducky and Rochelle. “Harriet, I’d like your number if that’s alright.” she politely requested of the taller woman. “I was planning on asking you the same thing!” Harriet said with a chuckle and a knowing smile as she pulled her phone from the back pocket of her tight jeans. Lucy and the girls were giggling and chatting away while Petra and Harriet were having a much quieter conversation with laughter of their own peppered in as I returned from loading the car. “Come here and give your Aunt Harriet a hug, girls!” Harriet exclaimed, crouching down with her arms outstretched to Ducky and Rochelle. Lucy came over to me and kissed my cheek before she threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly. “I love you.” she said quietly. “I want us to be better sisters than we were brother and sister.” she said. I hugged her back and nodded. “Me too.” I told her. We parted and I kissed her cheek as she’d done. “Your Mommy and my Mommy have each other’s numbers and we’ll definitely try and come visit you guys and have you all come visit us too!” she chirped. “Zelda, do you have a hug for Aunt Harriet?” Harriet asked, making me blush as I looked over to her, her arms still outstretched. I shuffled over to her and hugged her, being wrapped up in her arms. “It was lovely meeting both sides of you, sweetie.” she said softly. I tightened my hug to match her. “It was nice meeting you.” I said. “I’m glad Lucy has such a good Mommy.” I added. She pulled me from her and booped my nose. “I’m glad you have such a good Mommy as well.” she said sweetly. Petra and Harriet hugged and exchanged a few more quiet words and that was it, we left the house, locking the door with the spare key hidden in the fake rock near the door and made our ways to our respective cars, Lucy waving happily from her backseat at Ducky, Rochelle and I in our backseat as Petra dispensed bottles of milk to each of us from the front of the car and started it up to get us on the road home. To Be Continued…

Yes. Decide on the specifics of what you want to accomplish and how. Fir example; if you do not carry things like rubber panties and other 1940's to 1966 items (see RUBBER PANTIES'R'US) and little girl items, then you will not see me there. How do you plan to implement your decisions What resources can you get? How long can you operate at a loss until you generate a market that can be up to 2 years What will you carry that makes you unique? If you scout out the landscapre here, you will see that there are different kinds of "abdl". At the root, AB's are not DL's and AK's are not either. Now some persons may have some of eachm but one will be predominant. If you look at my About Me, you will find a "very little girl". We are different for "little girl". Even at age 6, a 1950's girl would be diapered in some cases, such as for long trips of 50 miles since this was before the Interstate system was built and you had average speeds of 35 mph, and she could not hold it COMFORTABLY for 3 hours. This also affected what happened if there was a group of girls playing at someoen's house for the afternoon and three of them could not hold it comfortably for 2 hours. Things like that have either been forgotten or were not put in writing and were forgotten. And, of course, there was bedwetting That is just some of it. As for namEs, that depends on where you want to "center" Diapers are clsely associated with babies. Many DL's wear Bambinos and ABU, which is "Adult Baby Universe", in Fall River there is a store called Mundo de Bebe which is Portuguese for "Baby Wrodl" that sells First Communion outfits, which is at least 6 years old which would translate to "Adult Kid". This says there is quite a bit of bleed-over among the categories. And I will not even get into Sissy,. You will have to examine the Sissy Room for that. You can find a lot of information in the various subforums in "Our Lifestyle Discussion" for that. Nor will I get into incontinence except to say that "Incontinent Desires" should be in the Lifestyle sections since it is not a medical issue and is more like DL For a name, you might choose "Little Darlings". My RUFFLES & RIBBONS GIRLS' HOME was created and named in 1999 and became the reference nursery for Bytemine's "Wetville". Now, the name seems a bit overly pink, but in its creation period, that was a good thing as it left no doubt If I created it today, I might call it something else. Now, anything derived from it, or that could be part of it is called "BabyDoll", such as the "line" of DIY grooming items (bubble bath, spray scents, bath, body, and baby oil), and the kind of diapers I am in. In the 1950's there were stores that catered to little boys and some that catered to little girls. The ABDL equivalent of the latter also attract Sissies but if you look at the Sissy sites, you will find there are other aspectsk to that lifestyle that do not fit with Little Girl based on things like "sissy boy", "sissy girl" and "sissybaby", along with things lik cuckold and SPH. The net result is that you will have quite a complex set of choices in creating your business model. You might look at places like LL Medico, Mountain Views, Protex Medical, Fetware, Babykins and Rearz to get an overview of the landscape at the product line end. I do not know if Carolyn's Kids is still around. Even 25 years ago, her busienss model was pricing her out of the emerging market that she helped create and she did not adapt. Also, to my knowledge we no longer have INFANTAE PRESS There was a "gold standard" in the '80's and 90's called "Diaper Pail Fraternity" or DPF, That folded in the early moughts and since then, the gold standard is Daily Diapers: Right here. If you go into my ABout Me and look at my CV, you will find that I have been around for awhile

i dont care about me, i just figure if she was dosed with a carefully measured amount of that water, she gets reasonably younger, and therefore healthier, no more cardiac issues,

I had that question running through my head recently. A friend and a I were looking at getting a 2 room apartment for a minute, but with me catching Covid and issues on his end, it’s a no-go. But I wrestled with that question, along with “how would I explain this to him.” We’ve known each other for over 15 years, but I’m sure he doesn’t know about this part of my life. There have been other times where someone wants to share a place. (A 76 year old woman comes to mind here, but I’ve been trying to avoid that situation.). So this isn’t entirely new for me. For now, I’m in a studio apartment by myself. I have gone periods without wearing, but I don’t see myself quitting entirely.

OMG... that was AWESOME ? Never saw that coming. I guess Daffy didn't either ?????

And it's NOT about disabled children?!? WITCH!

This thread brings to mind the rejoinder to "Are you trying to shit me" "No: I wouldn't shit you. You're too big a turd"

Is he going all the way back. Maybe his Mom wants him back so she can cuddly him and baby him again with all the trimmings baths, diaper changes, feeding and nursing him. ?

@Kawaharu I can also sympathize and empathize with this position. People who do not understand what it is like to be in a position do you need to wear or use diapers, or deal with a disability, or other challenge may not understand the reasoning, because they have never dealt with it. Most of my friends that I know of actually understand that there are people who are disabled who must wear diapers because of incontinence, or because of other conditions associated with their disability, or other conditions that might manifest themselves as a person ages. I think that it would be a great thing if most people who saw someone Who needs diapers, or who purchases them understand that they need them, and not to give them a lot of grief about it. I don’t have to worry about that, because of my disability, and it is well known that some people with disabilities like CP may have incontinence issues, Or worse yet problems with their muscles that makes control of their bladders and bowels either very difficult to do or impossible to do because of damage. Unfortunately there are a lot of people that are incontinent, and they live with it every day. They understand exactly what they have to deal with, they know what they do, they know how they do it, they know when they do it, and they accept that that is what they must do. The problem is, but there are some people in the world who DO NOT understand this, and the old “stigma“ that babies are the only ones that wear diapers rears its ugly head. W R O N G! People that do not have control of their bladder and bowels are incontinent, and they have no control over those functions, so they wear disposable underwear, disposable diapers, pull-ups, or whatever they decide to use to deal with this problem. They have all of the necessary equipment that they need to be able to deal with it on a daily basis. When I decided to go to 24 seven in 2020, I told everyone of my decisions that I work with, and I made the necessary change to allow for myself to have everything that I needed to be able to deal with my incontinence. I do not want to worry about whether or not I have to go to the bathroom or not, or whether I have to get up and go to the bathroom every single time. After dealing with this since 2019, and losing so much sleep because of me being in the bathroom for 5 to 6 hours a night, diapers were my solution, and I don’t care if I totally mess myself if I’m wearing a diaper, because diapers allow me the dignity, safety, and sanity that I am looking for. Far too many times I have to get up in the middle of the night and almost hurt myself to get to the bathroom because I’m running like a wild animal. With a diaper on, if I have to use it I use it. it is OK for people not to understand why we do what we do or what we do what we do, but if someone were to question me on it, I just tell them that it helps me make sure that I don’t have to hurt myself when using the bathroom. If someone doesn’t come to me and confront me, I don’t have to worry about it. Even if they were to confront me, this is the way that I have chosen to deal with my incontinence, and nothing is going to change that. I have noticed over the last two years that I am more confident, more relaxed, I don’t worry about stupid stuff, and I don’t lose sleep anymore. Putting a diaper on is about as easy is flushing the toilet. It’s just something that you do. People who do not wear diapers, and think the diaper is only used for babies/disabled have to realize that in some cases incontinence is a condition that can be disabling to an individual who has been proud and able to function: to them if they do not accept what has happened to them, they may have emotional issues and psychological issues, etc. and they have to go through the process is to understand that wearing a diaper and using it is not a big deal to those who deal with it every day, but I bet you that if there was a way to cure incontinence when your muscles or body parts/plumbing are broken, that most people would probably jump at it. People who do not understand what we go through, May feel the way they feel because they don’t have to deal with incontinence, the constant cleanup, the changes, and everything that we deal with. If they don’t understand that’s OK, because eventually they will in time, and even if they don’t, they will understand that there are people who need diapers in more ways than one, and there’s no way that they are going to change the way we are as individuals, and what we do. It took me a while to get to the point that I accepted that I like diapers, need diapers, wear diapers etc., but I am not worried anymore, I’m not going to change, and I want the security and safety of having a diaper on if something should happen. I grow tired of having to almost hurt myself to try to go to the bathroom because I can’t get there fast enough, and when you end up with IBS kicking in, you may end up feeling a rumble in your stomach, and by the time you say time to get up, you’ve already done the deed before you even stand. However there are people who understand the need for Diapers. Because I had a disabled brother, and have disabled friends that have worn diapers, and have worn them myself, I don’t feel ashamed or strange or anything like that. It’s simply a medical need, which can be substantiated, and diapers are not just for babies, but anyone who is over the age of five probably would be thought of as a person who doesn’t need diapers. This is also incorrect, because there are people who have medical reasoning for wearing diapers. I am one of those myself: and I will not change this philosophy. Brian

Wearing a wet tykables overnights will probably sleep in it for the night.

I like that it's "The Original" poop knife. Don't let those cheap imitation poop cutters fool you!

Just the thing for spreading your Nutella on your toast in the morning.

Darth VibrADER!!!!!! ????

I use suppositories fairly often with diapers to really enhance the desperation and losing control, which is what I really like. But without the then continuous cramps and ongoing bouts of it haha I have tried proper oral laxatives before but honestly they dont seem to do much to me. 2 dulcolax tablets before bed. Diapered all day the next day and just never seems to hit me. Which is a shame because what you describe is what I hope for, absolutely destroying the diaper with repeated waves of uncontrolled messing. But I dont want to risk taking more than the recommended 2 tablets.

Yeah update!! I like how Angela handles both Ashley and Danny. Danny’s reaction to drinking breast milk will be entertaining for sure. So will him waking up to its effects. I also look forward to them finding out her fought for a profession in the other dimension.

Curious to know what Danny gonna do when he discovers he drinking breastmilk and has now way of escape

Great chapter. I like how they handled his reactions this time. I'm excited to see how Danny will adjust.

If I am in a diaper I use the diaper for everything. I never hold when diapered.

I have been wearing diapers 24/7 for the past 3 1/2 years due to total bladder and bowel incontinence from a ruptured L5-S1 disc. My diapers get fully used for all of their intended purposes.

Oh wow that’s awesome! It’s very encouraging to hear that

VIII “Jumbled” I opened my eyes slowly and regretted it immediately, the light in the room stabbing through my eyes into my brain with the searing fire of, well, the Sun. My vision was blurry and I struggled to focus, blinking repeatedly as I winced and lifted my hand to shield my eyes. Dark blobs filled my vision, a cacophony of overlapping sounds and voices rushing into my mind rather than my ears, some familiar and others not. I managed to get onto all fours and try and get up onto my feet from there, finding my muscles to be practically liquid, betraying me the instant I tried to get up from my crawling position. I heard snickering, building into a giggle and then into a full blown, uproarious laugh. Though I was alone in the lab and it was just a sound, I was sure I heard malicious intent behind it. I heard clicking, the kind of echoing clack that comes from high heels on the floor of a courthouse hallway, bouncing off of the walls and ceiling to sound like it was coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. “Who’s there?!” I called out, squinting to try and focus my vision on the dark blobs that wiggled and jiggled just out of my ability to make them clearer. “Baby.” the voice that came from whoever was walking around and laughing said, producing a sound that was something between a choked wheeze and that thing that kids sometimes do where they talk while sucking in their breath and it sent a chill down my spine when I heard it. The word stretched on for several seconds, drawing out each syllable until I could hear a small rattle in the vocal chords by the time it finished speaking. “Who the fuck is here?!” I screamed, my voice sounding far less intimidating than I was trying for, coming out more on the verge of terrified tears. Click. Click. Click. The steps came closer. My vision cleared enough for me to make out a feminine shape, a dress of some kind stopping just above the high heels I’d been hearing. “I don’t know how you got in here, but if you don’t leave I’m calling the cops!” I shouted, reaching for my phone beside me and finding thick shag carpeting instead, making me look down to see that the floor I was on wasn’t the floor of my lab. Click. Click. Click. The steps came closer. “Disgusting.” the voice said, the distortion faded to allow the feminine nature of it to be heard more clearly. I felt my stomach lurch as I recognized the voice. “Mama?” I asked, my voice coming out small like that of a child. She was standing in front of me looking down, hands on hips, her face a blur that wiggled like the blobs I’d been seeing before. I smelled her perfume, the flowery scent with a hint of citrus that made her hugs seem more soothing when I was little. I could see now that she was wearing an outfit similar to that of a 1950’s housewife, apron tied around the waist over her powder blue dress, white high heels tapping impatiently before me. The distortion returned to her voice, amplified by several octaves, making me cover my ears and cry out in pain. From the corner of my eye I another blurry figure appear and the disjointed sound of what I perceived to be laughter came again, this time at a higher pitch than the figure in front of me had produced. I squinted to try and bring the second figure into focus, managing to barely make out that it was another feminine form, though shorter and thinner than the first. The not quite laughter but obviously intended to be laughter filled my mind, bringing a headache and an overwhelming feeling of dizziness that I turned and tried to crawl away to rid myself of by putting distance between us. The shag carpeting between my fingers dissolved a few feet away from where I started and was replaced by the cool, slick feeling of linoleum. As I looked down saw the floor and recognized it as the kitchen floor of the house I grew up in, the burnt umber hue with flecks of black and cream in it that always made it look kind of dirty even when it was freshly mopped. Another distorted voice came from behind me, the words garbled into the asphyxiated wheezing sound that these things made, though this one was decidedly male in it’s deeper timber. The lighter, more feminine voice that had come just before I’d crawled away began after it, they were talking to one another. I turned to look over my shoulder and saw the two figures standing in what looked to be an amalgamation of the living room of the house I grew up in and my lab, the house parts faded like an old photograph and the lab parts seeming to be almost superimposed over them in a brighter, but almost transparent way as though they were laid on top of one another like an overhead projector was being used to show both at the same time. “...diapers.” the male voice said after several unintelligible sounds. The female figure stood in front of the male figure and extended its arm to the male’s shoulder and made a series of sounds of its own ending with “daddy?”. The male figure’s head jostled, the features still a blur as though someone had painted these people and smeared a finger over the faces. He reached out and picked the female figure up and they embraced before they merged entirely and melted into the floor, the room they’d inhabited evaporating as they did leaving me staring at nothing, my eyes straining to find something in the inky darkness left behind. “Lina!” came Tim’s voice, bring my lab back around me between blinks, the floor beneath me caked and smeared with piss, shit, and vomit as I lay beside my phone once more. I groaned. “Daddy?” I asked weakly, pawing at the black rectangle beside me. I heard a quiet pair of voices somewhere behind me and rolled over slowly. Where my lab should’ve been was now a tunnel, devoid of light save for an almost pinpoint of dimness miles ahead, moving closer as though I were driving toward it. The dimness grew slightly brighter the closer it got to me or I got to it, and I began to see two figures once again, their distorted voices engaged in an awful sounding clash of choked wheezes and whines, my mind registering it as an argument as they got close enough for me to make out that I was looking at the backs of their heads and what I’d believed to be their bodies were just dark forms without movement as the previous forms had been, they were sitting in front of me. “Lina!” Tim’s voice called out again making me roll back over. My lab and phone were gone, replaced by a vast room that looked like it had been created in watercolor, the features of the room muddled and fuzzy. I heard crying, one person and then two and then four and it grew exponentially from their until a cacophony of anguished sobs overlapped in my mind until the sound lost all meaning and just became noise, like static on a television. Click. Click. Click. The high heels approached. The sound the woman made was obviously angry, but also hysterical with what I felt was sorrow, not that anything could’ve been gleaned from the lack of words, but my mind and heart felt anguish as she droned on at or near me, my eyes still unable to make anything out about her beyond some of her outfit. “I can’t understand you!” I cried out pleadingly, wishing she would make sense. Click. Click. Click. The high heels receded, taking with them the watercolor expanse they inhabited. The soft scent of baby powder filled my nose and I felt something moving me onto my back, realizing as I looked up that they were hands, the thin fingers resting on my knees connected to nothing more than the ether around me for a moment until the rest of the figure formed from them to become the feminine figure I’d seen with the male one from my place in the kitchen. “Poor baby.” the young woman’s voice said, her tone pitying and sympathetic. I tried desperately to make out her face but every time I got close to doing so there was a glint of light and all the progress I’d managed to make was reset, repeating a dozen times in rapid succession until I felt her parting my legs and heard the rip of the tapes of my diaper. “Please, I don’t understand what’s happening, who are you?!” I cried out. I felt her hands working between my legs, clinical and efficient but with something else, a warmth as though she were making sure to impart love where possible as she cared for me, like Tim did. The glint of light filled my vision as I stared up into the swirling void that was her face and as the brightness cleared I could hear her crying, her voice returned to the unintelligible sounds I’d grown accustomed to hearing, she was frightened and quiet, and suddenly I felt a deep sense of sadness and began to cry, trying to reach up to wipe the tears from my eyes but finding my arms immobilized by some unseen force. “What’s wrong, what’s happening?!” I called out to her. A bloodcurdling scream filled my mind and everything went dark and my heart raced and my breath came out in shallow, ragged gasps and pants as my lab returned and I saw my phone beside me once more. “Daddy, I don’t know what’s happening!” I bawled. The black rectangle was dark and silent. I reached out for it and pulled it closer to me, squeezing it to press the power button on the side with no result making me realize that whatever was happening to me had been going on long enough for my half charged phone to now be completely dead. I dropped it to the floor with a sigh and once again tried to roll onto my side to try and get up, making it to all fours once more, or for the first time, my sense of what was real and what wasn’t completely shot at this point. I rose slowly, wincing at the throbbing in my head and the severe discomfort in my diaper area and braced myself against the nearest wall as I waited for the room to stop spinning. I plugged my phone in and shambled slowly to the bathroom, using every wall and piece of furniture I came into contact with to keep my balance until I reached my destination and turned on the faucet in the tub before gingerly removing my leaking, disgusting diaper, doing the best I could to clean myself up enough to finally lower myself into the tub, whimpering at the sting of the hot water on my diaper rash irritated flesh. “What the fuck was all of that?” I wondered to myself as I plugged the drain and let the warm water slowly envelope my body. I didn’t want to think about any of it, afraid that doing so would bring the awful visions back, but at the same time I couldn’t stop thinking about them, wanting so desperately to fit the pieces together to have them make sense, if any sense could be made of them. I closed my eyes and sighed as I gently massaged my aching head. The young girl’s voice from earlier broke the silence in the bathroom. “Such naughty language for such a little girl.” she chided in mock disappointment, her tone playful, a smile in her voice. My eyes shot open and my body jerked in surprise sending water splashing out onto the floor as I stared up at her. She shook her head softly. “Leaking all over the place as always.” she said, bending down to mop up the water with a towel that she then folded to kneel on beside the tub. I stared at her, blinking and rubbing my eyes like a disbelieving cartoon character. “What are you doing taking a bath by yourself anyway?” she asked, reaching into the water for the washcloth, bringing it up and wringing it out as she brought it around behind me and began to lightly rub my shoulders and neck with it. “I thought Baby Lina was too little for big girl things.” she cooed, smiling at me widely, her braces glinting softly in the florescent light of the bathroom. I swallowed hard and felt myself peeing beneath the water as I took in her features. Her green eyes looked at me with warmth and love, her auburn hair fell to just above her shoulders as her arm moved behind me to gently clean my body. She was absolutely beautiful, just as Tim had described, looking enough like me to make me feel a little jealous of his choosing of her when he had me. “Katie?” I asked. She smiled and nodded. “Yes, sweetie?” she asked. I shook my head. “No, I mean, that’s you’re name, right?” I clarified. She chuckled and tussled my hair playfully. “Can you spell, ‘Katie’, sweetie?” she asked, talking to me as though I were a small child still learning my letters. “How are you here?” I asked. “How am I seeing you?” I clarified, realizing that she wasn’t there but was just another of whatever I’d experienced earlier. She pouted. “Is Baby Lina asking where people come from?” she asked. “Don’t you know about the stork?” she teased, reaching out to tickle my tummy. I wiggled away from her thin fingers, the same fingers that had changed me earlier and the same tone of voice that I’d heard talking to the male figure. “It was Tim!” I exclaimed. She shook her head. “No, baby, Tim isn’t the stork.” she said. “Tim is-” she blushed and hid a smile. “Tim is my very good friend, remember.” she said. I sighed. “I know that Tim is, was your boyfriend or Daddy or whatever, but you’re dead and none of this is real.” I told her. If she was listening or understood me, she didn’t show it. “C’mon, Baby Lina, it’s getting close to bedtime.” she said, reaching down beneath the water to unplug the drain. “Katie!” came the older woman’s voice, the voice of my mother. Katie turned her head. “Yeah!” she called out. “Can you help Lina out of the tub, it’s almost her bedtime!” my mother called out. Katie smiled at me and winked. “Already on it, mom!” she called out. My mouth hung open as I stared at her, my mind swirling. She reached out and gently closed my mouth with her hand before leaning forward and kissing my forehead. “You’ll catch flies if you keep your mouth open like that, sweetie.” she said with a smile. “Why did you call her ‘mom’?” I asked. The space where Katie had been was empty after I blinked, the tub gurgling softly as the last of the water flowed down the drain leaving me wet and cold and confused. To Be Continued...

What's that thing from Roger Rabbit? "I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way."? She's not a daft see you next Tuesday, she's just written to have a lot of things going on, which is to say that maybe I'm not the best writer in the world. IV “Realization” I took a sip of my drink and sighed. “Girl trouble?” the bartender asked me. The woman behind the bar was tall and thin, her curly black hair smothering her shoulders as she wiped out glasses and chewed on one of the little red stirring straws. “Something like that.” I said absently. She nodded and set the glass down to pick up another. “That what you’re in town for?” she asked. I nodded and sipped. She set the next glass down and leaned forward with her arms folded on the bar a foot or so to my right. “It gets pretty boring in here on weekday afternoons.” she said. “Not trying to pry into your business or anything but if you wanna talk.” she let the offer hang there for a moment for me to respond. I sighed. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin trying to explain it.” I told her, forcing a smile. “Thanks for the offer though.” I said, standing up and pulling out my wallet and a ten dollar bill that I lay next to my glass. “Anytime.” she said listlessly as she moved to get the bill and put it in the register. I made my way to the elevator and back up to my room, kicking my shoes off and flopping down onto the bed with a huff. After laying with my eyes closed processing my thoughts I pulled out my phone and called Carolina. “That was fast.” she answered. “One question, no bullshit.” I said. “No bullshit.” she agreed. I sighed. “You built the machine for some kind of grander purpose, yeah?” I asked. “You didn’t build it just so you could joyride through your memories and live out fantasies about me, right?” I clarified. She was quiet for a long moment and I knew she was chewing her bottom lip. “Goddammit, Care.” I sighed as I sat up. “It has practical applications for lots of degenerative brain disorders like Alzheimer’s and Dementia and stuff!” she argued. “But that wasn’t why I built it, no.” she confessed. I pinched the bridge of my nose as a headache began to build behind my eyes. “You know how fucking insane that makes you look, right?” I asked. “Like next level stalker shit.” I added. “I can’t help myself when it comes to you!” she whined. “You’re all I ever think about, Tim! Every moment in our lives where you were kind to me and my best friend is a moment where I wanted to tell you how I felt, where I believed that there was something there that meant you had feelings for me too!” she explained. “Do you have any idea how awful it is to be around someone almost your entire life and not have the courage to share something so deeply private and personal to the point that it causes you physical pain every single moment you’re with them?” she asked. “I mean, yes.” I said, chickening out on actually saying the words. She scoffed. “Oh yeah, I forgot, you like women in diapers.” she sneered. “Grow the fuck up, Tim, it’s not even remotely the same thing.” she spat. “It felt like it for me!” I argued. She sighed. “Look, everyone has something they’re not ready to share with other people at some point in their lives, but we’ve gotten that awkwardness out of the way!” she said. “We both know each other’s deepest, darkest secret and we’re both still standing and still talking to each other, don’t you think that maybe we owe it to ourselves to explore these things for each other and see where it goes?” she asked. “So, what, we just go on a date?” I asked incredulously. She was silent for a moment, and I knew I’d hurt her with my tone. “Would it really be so awful to have dinner with me and maybe see if there’s some chemistry between us?” she asked. “I mean, we already kissed and neither of us threw up afterward.” she joked. I nodded slowly, the headache building. “I’ll come over tomorrow and we can talk about it in person.” I told her. “My head is killing me, are you sure there’s no side effects to this thing?” I asked. “None that I’ve experienced.” she responded. “Just take some Tylenol and get some sleep.” she said. “Alright.” I agreed. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Night, Care.” I said, disconnecting the call after she returned my goodnight sentiment and made my way to the bathroom for some Tylenol before bed. ******** The dream never changes, it’s just varying degrees of awful when it happens. The events all unfold as they did in real life, Katie called me, crying hysterically about the fight she had with her mother about college, she told me she was going to stay at friend’s house for the night but needed me to talk to her and help her calm down. She’d gone the back way because it was faster, but the road was high and had blind corners, the kind of road that every town has with too many little crosses and flowers next to snarled guardrails, the kind of road you don’t like driving on when it’s daytime but avoid when it’s after midnight and you’re crying. Her scream sends chills down my spine to this day, the kind of raw terror that you only get from knowing you’re about to die. I heard the screech of tires and the crash of her her car going through the guardrail and then the breaking of glass and crunching of metal as the car tumbled end over end for hundreds of feet. I heard her whimpering in pain, apologizing to me and to her parents, begging for her life as her breathing grew more shallow and gurgly then she told me she loved me and called me “Daddy” for the last time and I sat there listening to silence until the sound of sirens came through the phone. Sometimes I see it happening, my mind imagining me in the car with her, an imaginary passenger on her final drive. I see her braces catch the blinker light, glinting softly before the blood covers them up in a ghoulish final reminder that she’d never have those perfect teeth she’d endured the embarrassment of having braces at her age for. I talk to her but she doesn’t hear me, I tell her things will be okay, lying to her to ease her fear as the light goes out of her eyes. I didn’t handle her death well, but how does one handle the death of their most loved person in the world “well”? I eventually saw someone and dealt with my grief and guilt, but too many nights were spent passing out after drinking too much or sitting on the bathroom floor with a razor in my hand wishing I could do the one thing that might let me be reunited with her but knowing I was too much of a coward to actually do it. I thought of Carolina a lot in those moments, imagining how she’d feel if I died, imagining her in my same position as she mourned the loss of her most loved person in the world. After I’d woken up I realized that some part of me must have always known Carolina loved me more than either of us spoke about. I never thought of her mourning me as a friend, crying because her best friend since forever was gone, she was always the kind of throw yourself on the casket because you’re going down in the hole with them you see in movies when a spouse of decades passes suddenly. All of the tender moments we shared in our life were painted in new lights as I saw her feelings plain as day and chided myself for being so blind in the moment. More than that, I now saw that my participation in those moments wasn’t ever done with anything but love in mind, I loved my friend Carolina and wanted her to be happy. I thought of all the times I’d given her my coat when she was cold, chastising her playfully for never remembering to bring her own, hugging her after putting it on her to make sure she got warm faster. I thought about all the times I’d helped her up when she fell or got hurt and made sure she got a bandaid for her scrapes and kisses on her bumps, not because kisses heal booboos, that’s medicine 101, but because I loved her and never wanted her to feel hurt or sad when there was something I could do to fix it for her. I thought of sharing food and drinks with her at movies or restaurants because she always wanted what she wanted but then when she saw what I had it seemed so much more enticing to her. I thought of all the boys that had made her cry over the years and how I’d been there to hug her and tell her that they were idiots that didn’t deserve her anyway. I hazarded a trip down a line of thought I didn’t care to visit and wondered if Katie was my way of having Carolina without putting myself through the emotional ringer of losing her if things didn’t work out because of my fetish. They both had the same hair and eye color, were both big nerds, were both slight enough for me to be a strong Daddy for them should they need me to pick them up, and Carolina had the bedwetting problem that I knew about and that I obsessed about, looking for any possible way I could to parlay it into her indulging my fantasies with me. I’d always just assumed it was the diapers that drove me crazy and completely ignored that it might’ve been the girl wearing them that was doing it. I thought of Carolina kissing me, my brain guilting me into seeing Katie as though I was betraying her memory by sharing a kiss with another woman, but I knew that she never would’ve wanted me to continue suffering alone because I felt guilty. All the pieces starting to fall into place and I knew that I needed to get my head on straight and get to Carolina. ******** “I didn’t think you’d show up so early.” Carolina said in surprise as she let me into her lab, pulling her labcoat closed like a robe. “I’ve been a complete idiot and probably asshole, Care.” I told her, walking aimlessly through the lab, telling her everything about Katie’s death and my epiphany about the reality of our own relationship and when everything was out I slumped down into a chair with a heavy sigh. She was wiping tears from her eyes, hearing the story of Katie’s death wrecking her as much as it did me telling it even after all these years. “How have you not ever talked to me about that?” she asked in disbelief. I shrugged. “Katie was, at least I believed she was, my white whale.” I told her. “I had convinced myself for so many years that no one in their right mind would ever willingly participate in my fantasies, and we never got to a place where she-” I stopped and changed my train of thought, “I know, because of your machine that she would’ve gone headfirst into exactly what I wanted for us and I would’ve married that girl and done the happily ever after thing and it all would’ve been amazing.” I explained. Carolina was withdrawing, I could see her shifting uncomfortably in her seat and avoiding eye contact, chewing her bottom lip, all signs that she was uncomfortable with what I was saying. “But.” I said, noticing her rejoin the conversation by looking at me again. “She’s gone and there’s nothing I can do about that and I realized that my love for you over the years was something that I equated to a brother and sister thing because I’d been around you for so long that I didn’t see romantic feelings, and then we kissed and I saw Katie and felt guilty and that doesn’t happen when there’s no chemistry.” I told her, standing up and walking to where she sat so I could kneel down in front of her, my hands taking hers into mine gently. “I’m sorry for not seeing you all this time, Carolina.” I told her. She was crying again, squeezing my hands softly. “I’m sorry too.” she said softly. “I should’ve told you how I felt a long time ago, but I was so scared of losing you forever.” she confessed. I smiled at her and leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “It’s all out in the open now.” I said. She blushed softly. “Almost.” she said quietly. I looked at her in confusion. “What else is there?” I asked. She scooted her chair back from me and slowly stood up. “When you were here yesterday you were impressed that I kept my toilet so clean.” she started. I nodded. “Yeah, everything else in the bathroom looked like a bomb went off, but the toilet-” I began before she cut me off, opening her lab coat and dropping her pajama bottoms. “Looked like it had never been used?” she asked with a deep blush and a bashful smile. Around her waist was a swollen diaper with pink teddy bears adorning it, the front yellowed like a bruise. I looked up at her in stunned silence. “After I learned about your fetish I kind of fell down a rabbit hole researching it and everything looked so cute and comfy and oh my gosh the first time I actually wore one was like wearing a freaking cloud and then I wet it and it was like this whole other world opened up for me.” she babbled. “I haven’t used the toilet since then and it’s been so freeing to just keep working and not have to stop to go to the bathroom.” she explained with another bashful smile. My mouth was dry and I was trying to stand up but being at eye level with her nearly leaking diaper was making my legs less than willing to comply. “I’ve always been a bedwetter, I just told you it stopped when I did because it was embarrassing enough for you to know about it when we were growing up, so I’ve worn some kind of something to bed all my life, but there’s something so naughty feeling about knowing I can go to the toilet but making the conscious decision to just go in a diaper.” she explained. “That’s why I know that I’m all in with this thing, I get you and I get to keep wearing diapers, that’s a no brainer.” she added. I took a deep breath in through my nose and smelled the acrid scent of her diaper and then I was reaching up and touching the yellowed padding, the soaked gel inside straining against the plastic shell, I was gently squeezing it and prodding it and didn’t realize until she quietly gasped that I was rubbing her tenderest flesh beneath. “Don’t stop.” she said softly as I started to pull my hand away. I found my legs and rose, slowing as I reached her face, my hands grabbing the sides of her lab coat and guiding it off of her, letting it fall around her feet as I kissed her lips, softly at first but then more assertively, beckoning her to her tiptoes as I rose to my full height, making her strain to continue kissing me as she softly moaned into my mouth. My hands slid down her back and to the crinkly padding around her waist and then my palms were cupping her ass as I hoisted her off her feet and held her to me, my tongue discontinuing the playful dance it had begun with hers in favor of outright dominating it. Her legs wrapped around my waist and she grinded her sodden diapered crotch against my stomach. I carried her to the bed and gently lay her down onto it, breaking our kiss as I leaned over her. “Tell me what you did.” I said softly, my fingers gently but firmly tracing the crotch of her diaper. She chewed her bottom lip and whimpered softly. “I wet my diaper, Daddy.” she said in a voice I’d never heard come from her, light and babyish in pitch but sultry and full of sexual intent in its tone. I swallowed hard, grimacing as my hardness pressed against the zipper of my jeans. “Isn’t that what babies are supposed to do, sweetie?” I asked, praying that nothing I was saying came off as cringey and weird despite being the weirdest thing in the world to be saying to someone you’re getting ready to have sex with. She nodded softly and pointed to the small bedside table above her head. “I need what’s in there, please, Daddy.” she requested, almost desperately. I reached over her and opened the drawer and smiled at the sight of the NASA logo on the front of the adult sized pacifier within, taking it out and sliding it between her lips. “Still as big a dork as ever.” I whispered, delighting in her blush as she sucked on the teat. “Now I need what’s in there, Daddy.” she said in perfect babytalk through her pacifier as she touched the hard mound in the front of my pants with the tip of her finger. My head was swimming as I reached for the tapes of her diaper and ripped them from the plastic surface they’d bonded to, inhaling deeply as the scent of her wet diaper mixed with the lingering scent of powder and also the heady musk of her arousal. I stood up and slipped off my shoes, watching as her fingers began to explore her newly uncovered folds, dropped my pants and underwear and rejoined her on the bed, my tip teasing her as I leaned forward and kissed her forehead, a soft shuddering moan of anticipation escaping around her pacifier followed by a quivering gurgle of pure bliss as I slowly entered her as deeply as I could. To Be Continued...