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Due to a scheduling mistake on my end, I've extended the deadline to August 7th, as I would not be able to make the judging deadline before that due to things I have going on. This will be the last modification made to the deadline. I hope this hasn't caused too much inconvenience. Hello everyone and welcome to The 2nd Kasarberang NON-CONtest! This contest was approved by @DailyDi ahead of time. "The 2ND Kasarberang's NON-CONtest" As the name sort of suggests, this will be a story contest for writers new and old. The purpose to create more femdom/non-consentual stories here on DD. CONTEST THEME: All stories must include this theme or a derivative of it to qualify. A story where the main character comes across one or multiple eccentric/strange women who begin treating the MC like the baby they see them as. suspenseful, slow and creepy elements encouraged. (No gore/violence) This is meant to be kept vague, please try to be creative and have fun with the concept. I personally was inspired to do this contest based on Poppy Playtime Chapter 2 Trailer. RULES TO QUALIFY: Please read through the rules carefully so that your story qualifies, if you have any questions or need clarification feel free to ask. 1. Story must fit with the theme. 2. Story must contain and primarily center around a dominant female(s) and submissive (male(s)/female(s)) 3. Story must be new! Previously paid only content made free and stories posted prior to this post do not qualify. 4. Story must be properly tagged based on the stories content and contain "2nd kasarberang non-contest" as one of those tags. (You can use my Non-con list to see what other type of tags I'm referring to). 5. Since this contest has two categories "NSFW" and "SFW" you will need to also tag your story either "Sexual"/"NSFW" or "Non-sexual"/"SFW" for me to know what category you are applying to. (All characters in the story must be over the age of 18 years of age, regardless of which category you are applying for.) 6. The beginning of the post must mention that the story is being created as a part of this contest and include a link to this page, so others can easily find it. All stories must be submitted by or before August 7th 2022 all stories posted afterwards will not be entered. IF YOU WANT TO BE CERTAIN THAT I'VE RECEIVED YOUR STORY SUBMISSION PM ME A LINK TO YOUR STORY WITH THE TITLE "Kasarberang NON-CONtest Story Submission" OR LEAVE A COMMENT ON THIS POST WITH A LINK TO YOUR SUBMISSION. Prizes: Prizes may be added closer to the end date, depending on if I can swing it. The last contest had slots added and prizes increased before it was over. (Prize money will not decrease, but may potentially increase.) NSFW Category Prizes 1st Place: $150 2nd Place: $50 SFW Category Prizes 1st Place: $150 2nd Place: $50 Prizes can be either redeemed as various gift cards (Amazon, Google Play, Apple, Uber, Netflix, Hulu, etc..), sent directly to a PayPal account or as a direct donation in your name to DD. CONTEST DURATION: The contest will begin now and officially end August 7th 2022, this will give people tons of time to write and submit their stories. JUDGING: Judging will begin August 10th 2022 and will aim to end by or before August 24th 2022. I will be judging stories primarily on readability, length, my personal enjoyment of the story and of course how you incorporated/interpreted the theme. Community feedback will not impact the judging, this is to keep veteran members and new writers on a level playing field Questions & Answers: (This will be updated as questions get asked.) Q: Can I enter two stories, one for each category? A: Yes, but you can only win one category. Q: Does the story have to be completed by the deadline? A: No, you can submit a story that is being periodically updated with chapters, but just know I can only judge what is available by the time the contest is over. Q: Is there a minimum or maximum length the story has to be? A: Nope, your story can be as short or as long as you want, but length will be considered when judging. Favoring high-quality stories that do the most with there concept. LIST OF ENTERED STORIES: All entered stories will go here so that people can easily find them. NSFW Entries: An Unrelated Incident By @BoTox SFW Entries: Time ABerrations - Rose By @DainaGirl Still the Same By @Mee Tallie By @PeculiarChangeling Happy writing.

Scene #165 “Diaper, could you come here?” Did I hear my Mary right? “Diaper?” What is she even … I hear footfalls. “Diaper, I was calling for you,” Mary said as she stood in the doorway. “Um, huh?” “Diaper, you silly goose. Fine,” she said as she walked from the doorway to the basket of changing supplies under the side table, “I can get my Diaper into a new diaper right where she is.” She sounds happy. I like her happy and stuff, but I have reasons to be suspicious of that little lilt in her voice. “C’mon, Diaper. Lay down all the way.” “What is happening right now?” “I’m changing my Diaper.” O. My. Gawd! “So you finally admit it’s yours! Ha!” “Ooo, such an excitable little Diaper. Of course you’re all mine.” “Mary, you’re being … “No, you’re being goofy little crinkle pants. Lie all the way down so we can get you into dry pampers, Diaper.” “What?” I think she left a word or something out of that sentence. “Diaper, enough of this silliness. Are you gonna let me change you or do you wanna sit in your peepee until you leak?” What is she … Did she … O hell no! “Did you just call me ‘Diaper?’” “Of course I did, Diaper. That’s your new nickname. I’m gonna make sure everyone we know calls you Diaper from now on.” “Marrryy!! That’s mean!” “Diaper is so fussy today. We have to hurry.” “Why do we hafta hurry,” I asked as I did my darndest to make her sense my displeasure. “The courthouse closes at four.” “Why are we … I don’t even wanna know. I’m not playing along with your nonsense.” I’m in charge of nonsense, and I’m better at it too! She’s too dominant to do nonsense. She’s never even uwu’d! “So we can officially change your name to Diaper and get remarried with your pretty new name, Diaper.” “That’s the stupidest joke you’ve ever (squawking noises) and don’t ever call (caribou stampede) and so help me I’ll (angry hyena snarls) and you can suck a (so many explosions) just no! Bad! Bad Mary! Poor choice! You’re making poor choices! Naughty, bad Mary! Bad!” Apropos of nothing, I don’t think I’m ever too dramatic. I think I’m just the right amount of dramatic. And if you or anyone, including Mary, doesn’t like it, then stop pushing my buttons and shush. Yeah, I said ‘shush!’ So there … and stuff. Really. “Aww, is my little Diaper grouchy cuz she didn’t get her nap-nap? Does my Diaper need a nappy?” She’s giggling! She thinks this is fun! We’ll see if she still thinks that if I hit her with my emu! I reared back my bird, and as I swung it forward with all my might, I bellowed, “Watch out, Mary! Here comes my emu!” I woke up on the follow through. No Mary. No emu. Daytime. No … Nope, I was wearing a diaper (sigh). Woulda been nice if that part was a dream too, but … Well, I’ll tell you one thing: this aggression will not stand. “Mary!” “Yeah?” “Where are you?” “In here.” We’ll just see about that! I heccin stomped the heck through the dining room and into the kitchen where she was smugly sitting on a chair doing something on her laptop, and ya know what? Nope. If only I had my emu … “What the hell is wrong with you,” I demanded. And her just sitting there looking all stunned and innocent which she isn’t and never has been. No innocent Mary! Guilty! Guilty as sin! “Sinner! Making funna me and calling me names and saying we’re gonna change it and get married and no! No, do you hear me, Mary? No and don’t you ever never again or so help me stuff and things and you’ll wish it was just an emu!” In retrospect, I can see how that could seem a smidge dramatic and a little ridiculous and nonsensical and totally outta the blue, but I can assure you it only seems those things. In actuality, it was entirely called for and made perfect sense. Mary’s what-is-she-even-o-she-musta-had-a-dream-again face. “Did you have one of those dream where I do something to you again?” “So you admit it!” “C’mere.” “Who are you to give me orders?” “Just c’mere,” was Mary’s reply. She’s as diplomatic as a wolverine – she says the words, but she says them at the same time she’s just reaching out, grabbing me gently by the wrist, and tugging me close (I had a weird experience with a wolverine once). “Other than your dream …” “Nightmare and your fault!” Swat. “Are you gonna talk about it without raising your voice and accusing me of something I did in your dream, or do I need to spank your bottom first?” I made my fine-but-grudgingly face and grudgingly said, “Fine.” “Did you have a nice nap?” “Except for the last part, yes.” “Sit,” Mary said and patted her lap. I climbed on with a (dammit!) crinkle. “Wanna tell me about your nightmare?” “You’ll laugh at me.” “Probably.” My Mary is very honest when she’s not up to her devilry and tricks and things. “You called me … a name.” “What name?” “Name calling is wrong. Isn’t that what you always say? And then you just go and …” “In your dream.” I know she’s not responsible for what she says in my dreams, but on the other hand, she plants an awful lot of the ideas that make their way into my dreams. Is that where the term dream girl comes from? Anyhoo… “You called me … Diaper.” “I called you a diaper?” “No,” I said with a teensiest eye roll because she was in the dream and ought to know what she called me even if that doesn’t make any sense, “you called me Diaper and said it was my new name and we were gonna get it legally changed and get married again so it would be on our marriage certificate, and it …” Okay, so maybe possibly a little bit kinda if you say it loud it might be could be sorta perhaps funny. But also not. Let us not forget, also not. “O…kay.” “I knew you’d say that. You’re so mean! “Daffy, I’m not responsible for the things that happen in your dreams.” O, like we haven’t had that conversation before, and I still don’t see her point. “I know that, but still,” I pouted. “Remember how you once asked me if I’d still love you if you went crazy and I said yes?” “That’s a totally random thing to bring up right now. I don’t even know why you bring that up right now or all the times.” Um, really. “I still love you. To the moon and back.” “Good. I love you too.” Then there was an awkward pause, and Mary got a funny look on her face. “So, we’d be Mrs. Mary and Diaper Taylor?” “I can feel you laughing on the inside.” True story cuz I was sitting in her lap and could literally feel her shaking. And I could see her having a harder and harder time not laughing on the outside. “O fine, go ahead.” “Buh-ha! Hahahahahaha!” And if you must know, I didn’t let out even a little giggle. Not true. And if someone says otherwise, they are not be ping truthful, unlike myself who has only ever told the truth ever (except when it’s not to my advantage but those times don’t count). Really. “It’s not funny.” And contradicting yourself in the space of a few sentences isn’t lying (necessarily). “If you say so,” she tittered. “I did, so there.” “I guess I had better not ever call you Diaper, huh?” “Not if you wanna live with someone who likes you.” I mean, I’ll always like her but for brief periods I might not. Like, a few minutes here and there (at most). “Speaking of,” she said all casual like she wasn’t about to do one of the worst things she ever did to me, “you stayed dry during your nap. Good girl.” It wasn’t the unrestrained groping (she calls it a diaper check, but I know when I’m being groped and don’t get me started on that whole bundle of knotted conflicted feels). It was being called a good girl (squeee! My wife thinks I’m a good girl!) for not sleep wetting (what the heck! I haven’t done that since this one time college after my first and last experiment with 100-proof tequila. I was led astray by older girls who mistook me for a party beast when I’m at most a party gerbil and was o so innocent at the time). I had to let Mary know not to go mixing and matching the button pushing like that, and it’s super important to communicate very clearly about these things in a kink relationship. To wit: “Marrryy!” I think maybe she was confusing the (gay) squirming I was doing for my enjoying the internal push and pull between my praise kink and humiliation kink cuz she responded with, “What, I can’t congratulate my wife for being a good girl and not piddling her pampers during her nap?” I was about to tell her to stop (and to stop reading into the (gay) squirming I was still doing) when I took notice of her laptop and what she was looking at before I confronted her. “What are you doing?” “What?” “What are you looking at?” Well, I knew what she was looking at, so my question was more of a why. She said, “Um.” Nice to wrong foot her for a change. “Puppies.” “Why are you looking at puppies?” Also, PUPPIES! WHICH ARE SO CUTE AND NATURALLY UWU AND I JUST WANNA SQUEEZE EM AND HUG EM AND PET EM AND LOVE EM AND UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES BE RESPONSIBLE FOR ONE! “Hear me out,” she began because we’d talked about his before, “I want a dog.” I knew that part because that was a major part of what we talked about before, the driving force of that convo, actually. “And …” I asked when there was no more context forthcoming. “And I think it would be good for us, and for you. It’ll give you something to do. You could use a little responsibility in your life.” “I’m responsible for lots of things!” “Lots of small things. A medium-sized thing would help you …” “Yes?!?” I gave her my choose-your-words-carefully look. “It would help you get out of those more … And give you … Help you … Perspective.” “It would help me perspective. Good job with the words.” I’m the wordsmith in these parts. Mary just lives here. Saying that seemed to have triggered Mary’s fine-I’ll-say-it-plain face. “It will help you be a little less like a bored middle schooler home for the summer with nothing to do.” “Scoff! Am not! As if! Rolling my eyes now!” Okay, so she may have had a point, but still. Honor and stuff to defend and things. “Give me one example.” Mary’s you-really-want-to-cuz-I-will-and-you-won’t like-it face. What having a dog to take care will or won’t do for my behavior was beside the point. The point was, as I explained for not the first time, “You know how responsibility for living things makes me feel.” Anxious as fuck. Really. “You’re taking good care of your garden.” “I threw a tantrum when my chard had leaf spot!” “Yeah, but that was an emotional time of the month.” “And proximity to dogs stops periods, Mary!?!” I put my head on her shoulder because reasons that are none of your concern. Keep your mind in your business. “Do you really want a dog?” “I do. I really do.” “I’ll worry about it all the time. Like last time.” So, um, this one time I adopted a dog, discovered being responsible for another mammal all on my own made my anxiety sky rocket, and had to find it a new home. I cried so hard I lost my security deposit (not really, but also really almost), and I’m still ashamed about giving up on a living thing after taking responsibility for it. “That was a long time ago. Your anxiety wasn’t under control then, and you were on your own.” So hey, scary thought: the current me is the me whose anxiety is under control. Yikes, right? “And it’ll be something we do together,” Mary continued. “We’ll take care of her and love her together.” “You really want a dog?” “Not if you really don’t.” “I like dogs.” Actually love them. Well, almost all of them. My brother has a dog that eats its own poo, and when it burps, which it does every few minutes, you just wanna flee the room and die and I don’t go over to his house when I go home to Wisconsin anymore. True story. All too true story. “I know you do.” Mary is so good to me. She really wanted a dog. I know she wouldn’t hold a grudge if I said no. But she did have a point about not doing it alone this time and me being in a better place now. And maybe possibly cuz stranger things have happened in the world, she might’ve had a point about me needing some more responsibility and a reason to leave the house more and not spend so much time planted on my butt in front of the TV. “You know if we go look at them we’re coming home with one, right?” Just thought I’d point out to her that I’m weak. If I see one and hold one and squeeze one (and I will squeeze it. O heck yes I will squeeze it), I’m too weak willed to not bring it home. Weak willed but at least self-aware about it. “I know, which is why we don’t have to. If you really don’t want to, we don’t have to.” I gave it a few seconds thought, cuz it wasn’t the first time I’d thought about it, and decided, “Okay,” I said. “Let’s have a puppy together.” “Are you really sure? I won’t be upset if you say you don’t want to.” “I know. I’m sure.” And then Mary squeed (and she’s not a squee’er) and squeezed me (she is a squeezer) and not that I could see cuz she was hugging the stuffing outta me, but I’m pretty sure she was making sparkly uwu anime eyes. “Thank you (kiss)! It’s gonna be so wonderful (kiss)! And you’re (kiss) gonna do (kiss) so (kiss kiss kiss) great (kiss kiss kiss) and you’ll see (kiss kiss kiss kiss).” “Save some for the puppy,” I giggled. “No (kiss kiss kiss kiss).” “Heehee! Marrry! You’re gonna make me … ow!” Fall of her lap is how I was gonna finish that sentence. Mary’s o-my-god-what-have-I-done face. “I’m okay.” It was an anticipatory ow, ya know the kind you say just in case? I think maybe only humans do that. We’re weird. “Up!” She didn’t wait for me to get up so much as she swept me to my feet. “Let’s go find you some pants.” “Where are we going?” Because, as we all know now, leaving the house is one of the very few reasons to wear pants anymore. “The pet store. We have some shopping to do.” “What panties will I be wearing with my pants,” I asked her as we ascended our staircase. “You didn’t bedwet, silly, remember? Why would I change you out of a dry diaper?” “But this one is really crinkly.” “I know. I can hear. Heehee. You wish you’d tinkled your huggies after all?” “That’s just a mean thing to say … If I pee now, can I wear panties?” Not that I’d lower myself to … dammit. “You are such a silly goose! Of course you can’t wear undies if you wet your diaper while you’re awake. That just tells me you need them.” “Like, forever?” I’m wary of every word she says (when I deign to listen to her, commoner that she is). “Of course not. Just until tomorrow. But you can wear undies over your diaper,} she said fast while moving fast in a manner that she called over-stimulated when I do it. “Mary, love, look at me: I think the prospect of having a baby animal in the house is making your mommy hormones surge.” That so didn’t even slow her down. “Speaking of baby animals, if you’re a good girl at the store we can get a leash and collar for you too, and maybe even a chew toy.” I remember once upon a time not that long ago when that wouldn’t do anything for me at all, and to my utmost regret, her saying that caused a tingly feeling in the lowest part of my tummy. The kink spiral is long and unpredictable. True story. As she was approaching me with a wild momma bear look in her eye, I asked, “Can we go out to lunch too?” “Of course. For a trip that long, we’ll have to take your diaper bag.” She held out a pair of panties for me, which are somehow more infantilizing when worn over a diaper than wearing a diaper on its own, like it’s such a transparent effort to humor my pretensions to being a big girl (which I am and they’re not pretensions! Really!). “Step in.” I did, and she slid them up my (very slender and attractive) legs and seated them firmly (as thought trying to wedgie me, which fortunately she doesn’t do when she decides she wants to dress me but does do when she decides she wants to spank bare cheeks without taking my panties down … dammit). “Daffy, did you wet your diaper just now?” “Um, no?” “O, so you don’t feel that?” She was feeling it enough for the both of us. “That means you really must need pampers then. Can you feel if I do this?” “Gah! Mhmm … mmm. Y-y-yeah … I mean urf … no.” “No, you can’t feel it or no, you don’t need pampers?” “No … diapers.” And then she just stopped. Hmmph! Her orgasm denial kink is just so … Deep breath. You like all the other things about her. “We’ll see. Pants, shorts, or skirt today?” “So heccin unfair,” I grumbled understand my breath. Don’t start it if you’re not gonna finish. She didn’t notice me pouting and I didn’t notice her still on Cloud Nine bouncing around like me on peanut butter until she said, “And I have a feeling, Daphne Ann, that you and our new puppy are going to be sharing some puppy pads.” “You wouldn’t!” O. My. Gawd. Mary’s yes-I-will-too face. Eep.

Greetings! This isn't going to be a long story, a few chapters, less than ten for sure, but I liked the idea and thought maybe someone else would enjoy it too. Let me know what you think and have a great day! Worth A Thousand By: The Unknown Author I “The Box” It took me a good month to work up the ability to start going through my mom’s stuff after she died. Her house became my house and I found myself avoiding anything and everything in it that would trigger another emotional breakdown. I stayed in my childhood bedroom most of the time in that first month, venturing out for food and to shower and use the bathroom, but her room at the end of the hall remained closed off. When I was little the hallway seemed impossibly long, nights when I had a nightmare and sought refuge in her bed were the worst, the fear that the things from my dreams were lurking somewhere in the dark chasm between my room and hers, waiting to grab my leg as I passed by in near full sprint until my feet left the ground to avoid the final pitfall of the space beneath her bed in my journey to her warm and safe embrace. Being back in that house, and my old room in particular, made me feel like that little girl again, nightmares waking me, my still drowsy and sluggish mind recognizing the childish room immediately and putting me right back into my little body, cries for mommy threatening to leap from my mouth just as my spacial awareness kicked in and I slumped back down on the bed, the sheets clinging to my sweaty skin. At least it was sweat at this stage in my life and not the other, far more humiliating reason for dampened sheets that plagued me when I was growing up, the crinkly mattress protector being the first and only thing I’d actually thrown out in the house up to that point. I started the cleaning and purging in my old room, spending the majority of my time there anyway made it easy to get most of it done in short order. I’d sorted everything out into piles, one for donation, one for trash, and one for any little one’s that might want or need old toys or clothes in my extended family. It was more than a little embarrassing to come across so many things from when I was little given that I’d lived in that very room until I graduated high school and went off to college, baby toys in a box on the top shelf of my closet, clothes that seemed ludicrously childish to still be hanging up in a room that a moody teenager had dwelt in last. By the time I’d finished my room, I’d managed to drum up the courage to venture down the hall to my mother’s room, my heart pounding in my chest as my hand curled around the doorknob and turned it, the familiar squeak of the knob protesting its manipulation bringing memories of sneaking in to look for Christmas and birthday presents in her closet when she wasn’t home flooding back into my mind. The room was immaculate, as it always was when I’d lived with her. Her four post bed was made with hospital corners and despite the staleness of the air from being closed off for a month, the lingering scent of her perfume clung to the bedding or the carpet and triggered a fresh breakdown that took more than an hour to recover from. I’d dropped to my knees in anguish, and then onto my side, and lay in more or less a fetal position rocking and sobbing until I was hoarse and exhausted and weakly slunk back to my room in defeat. The following day I’d managed to make it to her dressing table, the oak behemoth had always been of particular fascination to me growing up, lectures after making a mess by playing with her makeup were fairly common until I learned my lesson and watched her doing her makeup rather than sneaking in to try and do my own. Another defeat came when I remembered sitting on her lap while she did my makeup to teach me how things should work so I didn’t look like the four year old I was had drawn on my face with lipstick and blush. Every day for a month I managed to stay in her room for a little longer. The triggers were numerous, landmines of memory that blew up in my face over completely innocuous things to the untrained eye, but deeply personal moments in time preserved like a mosquito in amber waiting for me to come along and find them so I’d destroy what little emotional stability I had and send me scurrying back to my room to hide like a scared rabbit until the next day when I could do it all over again. When I finally managed to stay in her room for a full day with little more than a few tears and a sniffle or two, I set about packing up her things for donation, the closet was first and all the clothes filled a dozen boxes. With the closet devoid of clothes I found only one thing remaining, a wooden box on the highest shelf, the one where the presents would hide when I was little. I thought maybe it was a forgotten present, something she’d misplaced and never recovered, thoughts of some toy meant for toddler me or something for gawky middle school me to fell embarrassed about receiving filling my mind as I pulled it down and took it to the bed. The box was gorgeous, carved from some dark wood with ornate, shiny patterns of some kind of stone or other material adorning the top of it. The front had a small circular silver plate and a little cover that slid aside to reveal a keyhole. My heart sank when I saw the keyhole and tried with no success to open the box, but as I lifted it to see if there was some kind of button or switch that might be the real means of opening it, I saw a white envelope taped to the bottom of the box with my name written in my mother’s lovely, fluid cursive. I pulled the envelope off and opened it to find a letter and a small key within, my heart beginning to race as I opened the letter. “My darling Madeline, If you’re reading this, then I’m sadly gone. I wanted so desperately to share the contents of this box with you over the years, but never found the courage to do so. Many people in my life, friends and family included, think they knew who I was, but the evidence of the woman I truly was lies within this box. I know that nothing will make sense at first when you open it, which I hope you will, but, if you’re anything like me, the intrigue and adventure of an honest to goodness mystery to piece together will be too much to resist. Should you decide to open the box, I urge you to keep an open mind and remember that despite being your mother for however long I lived, I was a woman before you were born and I had a life and many truly wonderful experiences, but you became my life and I put myself aside to give you the best life I could and nothing in the world would ever compare to the joy I felt at being your mother. All my love, forever and always, Mom P.S. I truly am sorry I’m not around to provide context, but I hope you’ll understand that I see more than a little of myself in you and I have a gut feeling that you’ll see it too when all is said and done.” It was another month before I managed to venture back into her room to pick up the box, the rest of the house had been cleaned up and boxed up and thrown out where appropriate, and with nothing else to focus my attention on, the box became my obsession. On the one hand, I was terrified that I’d find out my mother was a serial killer or something, the box full of trophies from her victims that she was bequeathing to me because I too was a killer, but on the other hand I was curious to learn more about the woman she’d been before I was born. She had a photo album in the living room, pictures of her as a little girl and up to high school, but then it bled into photos of her holding me in the hospital when I was born and then nothing but me at the various stages of my life. By my rudimentary math, the box could have as many as fifteen years worth of information about her that I had no knowledge of, and that was the carrot that drove me to pick the box back up and take it back to my room. I slid the small metal cove aside and inserted the key, twisting it until the lock clicked and then I sat and stared at the still closed but now unlocked box for the better part of an hour before I finally lifted the lid. A photograph on top of a small stack of Manila envelopes greeted me, my mother, freshly graduated from high school judging by how young she looked, stood in front of a Volkswagen van holding up two fingers and smiling like someone had just told her the funniest joke, her eyes were closed and her mouth was partly open in a wide grin. She was wearing a peasant top, thin enough to reveal she wasn’t a fan of bras and skin tight jeans. Her hair was held out of her face by a hairband of some sort that looked like a wreath of white flowers had been slipped onto her head and I realized with great embarrassment for both of us that my mother had been a hippy. Each Manila envelope beneath the photo was thin, not containing anything more than a document, and each with a date written on the front, a half dozen in total ranging from the year she’d graduated high school to just before I was born. Atop the stack was a yellow sticky note that simply read “Keep an open mind”. I peeled the sticky note off and set it aside, my mouth dry as I picked up the envelope marked in my mother’s handwriting “James 1/17/71, Oakland, CA” and opened the folded metal arms on the back of the envelope to allow me to open it, pulling out a few piece of paper and a small collection of photographs. Setting the photos down on the bed, I read the first paper, finding it to be a diary or journal entry of some kind. “Stopped into a furniture store to take a break from walking all day and met James. Thinking I was in the market for the bed I’d flopped down on, he approached me with all the charm and charisma you’d expect from a young man working on commission. I could tell he wasn’t a total square though, despite the ugly tie and cheap suit he was wearing. I took his picture and he was curious why “anyone as beautiful as me would want a picture of him” and I told him that he was very handsome and that pictures showed us as we truly were, not as we or anyone else perceives us. We talked for longer than his boss deemed acceptable and James was told to escort me out, which he did, but said if I was interested, I could come back after the store closed that night so we could continue talking.” I sat in stunned silence as I read my mother’s diary page, wondering how the woman that taught me everything I knew about life and stranger danger could even consider taking “James” up on his offer, then I remembered her insistence that I keep an open mind and I pressed on with the next page. “Went back to meet James when the furniture store closed, he’d ditched the tie and jacket and had some cold beers waiting for me when I arrived. We sat at one of the dining room tables on the show floor, it was funny because the rest of the lights in the store were off except for a few lamps here and there, and if I focused on him, it felt like I was in his home rather than a store. We talked a lot about his job and my trip and then he turned the music on on the store speakers and we danced and it was so much fun.” I smiled as I read, imagining my mother having an admittedly very sweet encounter, possibly even date, with this James guy and moved on to the next page of her diary. “We danced for a while and drank some more, and James started to dance a little closer and touch me a little more and-” I sighed and closed my eyes as I pointed my head to my ceiling, mentally shutting off the urges to discontinue reading this saga and shut the box forever at the thought of reading about my mother having sex with a random furniture salesman in Oakland. I opened my eyes slowly and looked down at the papers in my hand and swallowed hard as I kept reading. “we ended up dancing near a bedroom display. There was a queen bed and a lemon yellow crib, and as we danced we neared the little yellow crib until I had nowhere else to move and sat down on the mattress of it as he kissed me. When our kiss ended he asked me if “I was a good little girl” and the question made me blush and gave me this weird tingle up my back, the beer we’d been drinking making me giggly before I corrected him that I wasn’t a little girl.” I shuddered involuntarily as I read. “He pointed out that I was sitting on a crib and that it was night time and those things couldn’t be a coincidence, so I must be a little girl, or maybe a baby. I blushed more at his insistence and of the quick demotion from little girl to baby, but looking up at him from my seat on the edge of the crib made me reluctant to argue a second time, making me chew my bottom lip as the tingle I’d felt earlier went lower in my body and built to a persistent hum between my thighs.” I was reading my mother’s erotic fan fiction, I suddenly realized, hating that I was doing so but despising my inability to stop reading despite all the alarm bells going off in my head about how expensive the therapy bill for continuing to do so would be. “His strong hand took mine and he gently curled my fingers into a fist and extended my thumb outward before her guided it to my lips, his smile when my lips parted and allowed my thumb to enter making the hum stronger. He stood before me looking down and I felt so small sitting on the mattress of that baby’s crib sucking my thumb, but he knelt down and placed his hands on my thighs, “Daddy thinks it’s time for baby to get ready for bed.” he said, enhancing my blush and the hum between my thighs to heights I’d never experienced before.” “Why am I still reading this?” my brain screamed at me, but something else was far more concerning to me, the tingling I was feeling running up my own back, the soft hum that was building between my own thighs, this was disgusting and kind of incestuous, but it was turning me on for some insane reason and I didn’t want to stop reading it. “I was surprised when he left me sitting there, thumb in my mouth, wanting him to come back and fix the feelings I was having for him, to take me to the adult bed and do adult things with me, but as I sucked my thumb and gently rubbed myself through my jeans, I also felt like I was right where I should be, obediently waiting for “Daddy” to come back to his baby. When he finally did return he set the things he was carrying down on the big bed and came to me and picked me up as though I weighed nothing to him, my legs wrapped around his waist on instinct and I hugged him tightly with my free arm as I continued sucking my thumb with the other so I didn’t upset him for removing what he’d so gently put into my mouth.” I wasn’t completely ignorant to what was seemingly about to happen to my mother, I grew up when the internet was a wild west landscape of everything under the sun being available at the click of a mouse without parental controls or paywalls being in place, and while I couldn’t remember specifically where or when or how I’d come across it, adult’s playing baby wasn’t something that was unheard of to me. “He lay me down so gently on the big bed, putting me on my back to look up at him as he knelt and slipped my shoes and socks off, peeking at me over my stomach as he reached up and unbuttoned my jeans, slowly peeling them off of me, his face looking like he was waiting for me to stop him, but also proud that I was still sucking my thumb and allowing him to continue. Once my panties were gone, he slipped my shirt off and left me naked on the bed, admiring my body for a moment before he picked up the stack of towels beside me and lifted my legs to slide them beneath me, bringing them up between my legs before he pinned them into place with the safety pins he’d been holding in his mouth when he picked up the towels.” I had to stop reading and take a minute to compose myself, the notion that my mother, the woman that enforced bedtimes and curfews and groundings over the course of my life, had allowed herself to be diapered by a total stranger in a very public place was mind boggling to me, and my intense arousal was more than a little shameful and concerning. I went to the bathroom, noticed the quarter sized damp spot in the center of my gray panties and felt disgusted with myself for having already decided to go back and finish the story, pretending that I wasn’t going to pleasure myself to what I was reading, that my mother wasn’t going to change into myself as I imagined some boy I had a crush on doing those things to me. “Once the diapers were pinned in place, James checked the fit and picked me up once more to take me back to the crib, setting me down and then guiding me to lay on my back, legs pulled up to my chest but parted before he raised the side and hurried away, returning with my camera and snapping a photo of me.” My cheeks burned at the knowledge that somewhere in the envelope these pages had come from there quite probably was a photo of my barely legal mother in a baby’s crib and some form of a cloth diaper as she sucked her thumb and my hands trembled as I began the final page of her diary. “It only took a few gentle “make a pee pee for Daddy” and “good baby’s wet their diapers” for me to let go and flood the towels pinned around my waist, my inebriated bladder more than willing to let go, James’ fingers gently rubbing the warm, wet padding when I’d finished, bringing squeals of pleasure and bliss in little bursts around my thumb as I sucked on it with my eyes closed until another wetness filled the diaper. He snapped a final picture before he lowered the side of the crib and knelt beside it, stroking my hair and praising me before he removed my thumb from my mouth and stood to unzip his pants and pull out his manhood, teasing it against my lips as he’d done with my thumb, the final results much the same.” I set the last page down beside me in the neat, orderly stack with the others and picked up James’ envelope with trembling hands, sliding the black and white photo’s out in a neat stack in my hand, looking at James for the first time, was clean cut and clean shaven, barely older than my mother, his tie was ugly, looking like a cheap motel rug, the kind of thing that someone with zero taste would assume would brighten an area simply by existing, not noticing the off putting patterns lack of cohesiveness. He was stronger looking than I imagined, maybe a football player or a wrestler in school given his thick forearms and the obvious biceps trapped beneath the long sleeves of his button up collared shirt. The next photo was of my mother, naked save for the thick towels pinned around her waist. She had a gorgeous body, fit and slender, curving in all the right places, her thumb in her mouth, that arm covering one bare breast while the other lay at her side. The sides of the crib were narrow, leaving barely enough room for her to lay on her back within it, but her legs were pulled up so her knees were near her stomach, and true to her description, her legs were partially spread to allow clear visibility of the diaper she was wearing. It was thicker than I’d imagined it would be based on her description, images of bath towels I’d conjured banished away by something more akin to the thickness of a bath towel folded up on a shelf, the pins securing it seeming to shimmer in whatever light source they’d been picking up. Setting that picture aside I came to the next, my mother in the same position as the previous photo, but with a wet diaper, though the photo didn’t clearly illustrate that thanks to the black and white medium, but based on her description I found myself studying her crotch intently for a moment to check, blushing when I remembered who the woman in the photo was and setting it aside. The last picture made me smile involuntarily, my mother curled up on James’ lap on the queen sized bed, her head rested against his chest, eyes closed and thumb still in her mouth, but the faintest curl of a smile in the corner of her mouth. James was smiling, his strong arm holding her to him behind her back, his hand resting on the seat of her diaper while his other hand rested on her knee. They looked incredibly happy together, beyond the happiness of having an orgasm, and I found it incredibly sweet that he hadn’t just used her for his kinky game and booted her from the store one he’d gotten what he wanted, but that he’d held her and spent time with her, going so far as to take a photo of the two of them together for her to keep as a reminder of the Daddy she’d had for a night whenever she happened to look back at her old photos. I put the diary pages and photos back in the envelope and set it back in the box, closing and locking it before I took it over to the dresser across the room and put it in the top drawer before returning to the bed. I thought about my mom’s note on the bottom of the box, how it had said that she saw more than a little of herself in me and that she felt I’d see it too. Was she talking about the diapers? The willingness to play baby for someone? I dismissed those thoughts and settled on simply her adventurous nature and desire to meet people and make memories with them. The ache of neglect in my intimate areas made it harder to accept those notions however, the thought that not long ago I too was in a diaper in this very bed making my fingers disappear beneath the blankets to explore the other possibility, however unlikely I hoped it would prove. To Be Continued…

Chapter 8: Finding Purpose Love in Dimensions – LittleFallenPrincess “There we go, all nice and dry now, baby.” I said as I taped up the fresh nappy around Faith’s waist. “Fank you Mummy.” She replied, blushing. I’m glad she got her voice fixed. Whatever that doc did to her really did a number on her, but thankfully Eve was able to help reverse its effects. But I must admit... I loved it whenever Faith used that baby talk. It just made her seem even more adorable. So it makes me happy that she can’t help but fall back to talking like that when she’s feeling little. It was also nice having a break in Charlie’s dimension, getting to spend all my time with Faith as she recovered. It took a lot longer than I was expecting... I even had to hop back to our dimension by myself to make sure my bills were being paid and Evie was keeping the house clean whilst we were gone. I couldn’t wait to get Faith back home though, back to her nursery... back to Evie. I could tell she missed her Nannybot. I mean... Evie did save her life after all. Dressing her in something similar to what Liv was currently wearing, I opted for a purple dress, rather than pink, so they didn’t look too much alike. Their faces were already near identical... I didn’t want their outfits to be the same too. I was amazed by the variety of little clothes Rose had stocked these wardrobes in the changing rooms with. They had onesies, dresses, mittens, booties... everything. I could have had a field day dressing Faith up in all these adorable outfits, but I knew we’d have to eventually get back to the living area, so I went with a cute little frilly purple dress and some white tights and got Faith dressed as quickly as possible. “Come on then sweetie, how about we go find out what’s going on with Rose and that lot?” I said, patting her butt as she hopped off the changing table. “Why though? Not like we’re going to be much help...” She said with a heavy sigh. She had a point. Rose and Noelle had their magic. Alex and Paige were both book nerds... well Alex was, Paige was more of her assistant I guess. But Faith and I... We were the techies. We could build and hack and program things... but we aren’t very good when it comes to mythological civilisations... that turns out aren’t so mythological after all. I felt really bad for Charlie and Liv though. Charlie is an author... a damn good one, don’t get me wrong... but it’s not exactly giving her a skill set useful in rescuing a couple of variations of us that are in trouble. I guess she has her height... but that necklace is taking even that away from her. And Liv... she’s resourceful, sure, on the run, avoiding getting adopted all those years... but in the end... she’s just a seamstress. She’s got a good head on her, very much like her variations, she’s resourceful and good at thinking on the spot... but she doesn’t have magic, she has no tech skills. Whereas from what I’ve heard about Alex through whispers... she’s a badass like me. Hell, even Paige has her thief background. And the witches... well they seem more than powerful to handle anything on their own. What I mean is... Charlie and Liv may find it difficult to catch up around us all. And I think Faith knew this too, that’s why she quickly suggested something. “Why don’t we get Charlie and Liv and figure out what the four of us can do to help then?” She said, looking up at me with that cute little smile of hers. “Good idea, babygirl.” I kissed her head and escorted her out of the room. Walking back into the large living area, Charlie and Liv were cuddled up yet again. ‘God, it must be so weird for Charlie right now, being the same height... I found it hard enough to interact with her and Eve when we were in their dimension, now she’s our size... that’s a big change.’ “Hey you two!” I waved as I sat down and pulled Faith onto my lap. “Hey, all dry now?” Charlie asked Faith, making her blush and squirm on my lap. ‘She really is like me... able to make Faith blush with barely a word said...’ I thought to myself, grinning. “Uh huh...” Faith responded, burying her face into my chest. “So... I was wondering... whilst they’re off doing research... what are we going to do? We can’t just cuddle on the sofa all the time. Don’t get me wrong... it sounds wonderful... but I think we should help in some way.” I suggested. “I agree, but what is there we can do right now? We can’t portal in and out of here, so we’re basically stuck... and we aren’t book nerds like those lot. I know a tiny bit about the Goddesses, from what I heard as a child... but other than that, I don’t know of any possible jewels on our Earth or any clues or anything.” Liv had a fair point. “I don’t remember much about them, it was always just a story my parent’s told me. Never took it seriously... I mean... why would I?” I said. “Yeah. So what else can we do? Anything we do seems a bit... overshadowed by the fact two of our counterparts can solve most things with magic.” Charlie said, shrugging. “I’m glad we’re not the only ones who think so. Okay then... so we can’t help right now. But we will eventually. So let’s talk about how things are going. How was the speech before... you know...?” I asked, trying to change the subject so we all didn’t feel completely useless. “It was going really well. Liv was doing great, the crowd were taken in by her words and we only had one tiny incident with someone trying to bring hypnosis in.” “Really? Oh god. I’m glad he was caught at least!” I smiled back. That was one of the things I was most scared about being on their Earth... some random person hypnotising me and adopting me. It’s why I kept to the hospital as much as possible. “Not like it matters, Faith’s nanites prevent that now, completely!” Liv smiled at Faith, who wasn’t taking the compliment very well. Faith just stared at the floor, her cheeks turning red yet again. “You’re... welcome.” Faith said, nervously. “I’m glad they help. And they helped me too! I would have had my mind melted when I got kidnapped. So we both got saved because of my accident with the bracelet.” “Wait... bracelet... so you both had contact with that mysterious bracelet at some point?” A thought popped into my head, but I needed more information to develop it. “Yeah. I mean... we both touched it at some point, why?” Faith asked. “Maybe that’s what caused you to have the visions?” I suggested. “What about us then? Why did we get them? We haven’t touched the bracelet.” Charlie asked. “Maybe because we’re linked to them... I mean think about it... we haven’t touched a jewel yet. At least not been in the presence of one until the one Rose produced. We were on a separate Earth. So something else must have linked us. Because it’s weird that only the eight of us were affected. So maybe... maybe it’s interacting with Goddess items that linked us? Maybe the bracelet... maybe the bracelet was made from the siphoned power of the Goddesses? Faith, didn’t you say it was some really old device, but it was more advanced than anything you had seen?” “Well... yeah...” Faith still looked a bit confused. “So that must be it then! Because our littles interacted with a Goddess item, and whatever this bond is... has linked us too?” “Seems a bit farfetched... but it makes more sense than anything I can think of right now.” Charlie shrugged, but then suddenly she looked like an idea had popped into her head. “And Rose and Alex... and their littles... they were obviously in the same room... and didn’t Rose say something about the second jewel being the King’s? Maybe the Queen never touched it? So she never got linked?” “Exactly!” “That... is the most accurate theory so far.” Rose said from the doorway. “How long were you there for?” Asked Charlie. “A little while. I was just coming to check up on you, and I overheard your conversation. And Morgan... I think you’re right. From what we’ve read... the Zadri used to travel around the multiverse, sharing their story of the Goddesses. Which as we know, they were not anywhere near powerful enough to do so. But with siphoned power from the Goddesses... maybe they managed to create these bracelets that Faith interacted with? And maybe they came here, spreading the stories?” “But if the Goddesses weren’t born until 50 years ago... how did the Zadri spread the stories that have been around our dimensions for millennia?” Charlie asked. “That... I don’t know. But so far, it seems like at a certain point... they stopped spreading the message. And they stopped travelling. It’s quite likely that at least one bracelet may have got left on your Earth... only for Faith to encounter it whilst working at that lab.” “So anyone of our counterparts who touched an object attributed to the Goddesses... had a vision? And their bonded... little or Mummy I guess, got linked too?” “It makes more sense than anything we’ve come up with.” Rose shrugged. “What did you find in there?” Asked Charlie. “Not much, I will admit. But not nothing. Come, come and see.” Rose waved to us, indicating to us to follow her, so we all leapt to our feet and followed her to the library. “I had forgotten just how big this place was...” I said out loud, everyone turning to look at me. I had had a quick peek when we arrived in the sanctum, but I didn’t get to fully appreciate just how freakin big this library was! Faith looked really embarrassed at being seen dressed up in front of everyone like a toddler, which was adorable. Especially seeing as Liv was in the same dress but she wasn’t embarrassed at all. “So... tell us what you found.” Charlie said. Alex ran over, holding a book in her arms, looking more excited than Faith did at Christmas. “So it appears that the statues throughout the dimensions... were originally brought over by the Zadri travellers who used the Goddesses dimensional abilities to portal around, spreading their story about their rulers.” It was a miracle I could make out what Alex was talking about, being so excited she was speaking a mile a minute. “Normally... even with us counterparts... touching a statue wouldn’t do anything. Not like the jewels which look to have been created by the Goddesses directly... but Noelle and I... we’re not exactly... normal. We think that’s what unlocked the power to cast without a wand from the statues.” Rose added. “Wait, so you usually need to cast with a wand in order to cast spells?” I asked. “Yeah. But when I touched the statue I have... it unlocked something within me and I was able to cast without one. Same with Noelle. The statue didn’t work on my friend, so this first clued me in on the fact that something about me was special. And then when I realised the statue had the same eyes as me... added with the strong feeling I had towards Noelle... the bond... I somehow knew it would work on her, and it did.” Rose explained. “If you remember, the Goddesses cast spells in the visions we witnessed. And they didn’t use a wand. Not like their people. So we must have gained that ability from the dimensional energy when we touched the statue... and it doesn’t work on any of you, because you’re not magically inclined, being from non-magic universes.” Noelle spoke up. I could see that she was proud of herself for speaking up, I know Faith struggles to do this, and if they are the same person... then I was proud of Noelle too. And looking at Rose, I think she felt the same way as she smiled at her girlfriend. “So... let me get this right...” Charlie took a second. “Two Goddesses, counterparts of ours, are currently being held against their will for loving each other. At some point between our two visions, they got caught and were going to be imprisoned. Even before then, their people siphoned their power and used that to travel to our dimensions, spreading their story... until all of a sudden it stopped. Rose and Noelle got some special power from touching a statue brought over when the Zadri travelled around, and we all got visions because all of us have touched something Zadri-related, whether that be statues, jewels or dimension-jumping bracelets?” It was a lot to process, and I think I felt the same way Charlie did right now. Confused, bewildered and... overwhelmed. “That... about sums it up.” Rose said. “So I suppose the main question is... how do we save them?” ========================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this new 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 next 4 chapters are available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You get two weeks early access to chapters of Love in Dimensions. New chapters of Love in Dimensions every Wednesday/Sunday! 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! ?

Part 10 ––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– As soon as Gy left, Amanda turned to Kristi. “Hi Kristi. I’m Amanda, and I to take a quick look at your body. Is that OK?” Kristi nodded, feeling a weird sense of trust for this person. Amands hands were gentle as she felt her arms and legs and neck. Even briefly taking off her diaper to look at her. Satisfied, she taped Kristi up again, and talked to her again. “Kristi, do you feel like you’re angry at me or about to bite me?” Kristi shook her head. “Am I going to be in danger if I take off your gag?” Kristi shook her head. Amanda neatly loosened the gag, and held it by it’s strap. “Kristi has your owner hurt you, or hit you?” The question stung to think about. Gy had been nothing but kind. She sniffled a little bit “No, nothing like that.” Amanda nodded. “Can you tell a little about why you bit someone today?” Kristi winced at her directness. “I was just… So angry. So angry at this, at everything happened, at my becoming…” She stopped at that last part. She hadn’t expected to say that, especially to a stranger. Amanda nodded sympathetically. “At your becoming a pet?” Kristi nodded, feeling another wave of guilt, and she looked down at the ground. She was surprised to feel a hand running through her hair, scratching lightly a spot on the back of her head. It felt good. “It’s Ok. We’re going to work together to help you out OK Kristi?” She nodded instinctively. “Ok. I’m going to put your gag back in. Can you open your mouth for me?” She did, and felt her mouth once again held open by the ball.” –––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––– Gy was still talking with William as Amanda opened the door. “Hi Gy, William” Gy Looked over from their conversation. “Is she OK?” Amanda smiled “She’s about as good as you could expect. Like I was saying, some pets just really have a harder time than others transitioning. Kristi seems like she’s having a hard time, and got angry, and it escalated out of her control.” “So what can I do? How do I help her?” Gy said nervously. “We have a couple of services that we can refer you to. There’s a pet therapist who I think might be a particularly good fit in this situation.” “a Pet therapist?” “Yes, they’re a owner an a pet who work with newer pets and help them adjust. When can I schedule you an appointment with them?” They talked about it for a bit, before deciding on the morning of the day after tomorrow. With that, Gy walked them to the door, trying to ignore Krisi in her cage. Right before leaving, Amanda lightly touched Gy’s shoulder, and spoke quietly to her. “You’re doing a great job. Keep up the good work” The words were unexpectedly soothing. Something she realized she had needed to hear, but didn’t know how to ask for. Amanda smiled, and walked back out to the van with William. She shut the door behind them.

In public settings, I'm not good at determining what is and is not socially appropriate to do/say, so often times I do/say things that might be socially unacceptable/awkward.

thanks, but it's not a big deal, at least not anymore ^^ I had brain surgery a few months ago for it and a Deep Brain Stimulator implant was put it, and oh man. It's amazing what some electrical voltage can do to your depression XD I haven't felt this good in yeeeaaaarrrssss. I still tic, but at least I'm happy about it XD

If it makes you feel any better If I knew you IRL I would love hanging out with you. I have no respect for social norms and would be 100% okay with you saying/doing whatever, intentional or not. (So long as it isn't illegal o fcourse, lol.) If you ask me, the nuns and Boy Scouts need to develop a sense of humor or a sense of understanding. Maybe there's a reason for people at the Tourette booth to be yelling not very acceptable things, cause you know...it's a Tourette booth. You're not a waste of space! I know a random person on the internet saying that won't fix that feeling, but I feel it should be said anyway. If ever you need someone to talk to or whatever, hit me up.

Hi all, This is a sequel to a previously written story, but reading that isn't essential. This new story stands on its own The previous completed part is contained here: If you want the vibe, I suggest reading the interludes “The Great Shittening” and "Ditzies does it Again" https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/77379-weaponised-incontinence-in-a-world-of-late-bloomers-completed/&do=findComment&comment=1888109 Below is a summary on all of the important story beats: Prequel Summary Three generations after the fallout of an endemic, people have been left with long toilet-training times, up to 17 years in most. Nick is a very average teenager, if not below-average, who rode the wave of popularity when he toilet trained himself at fourteen, amongst the youngest in his class. He joined the popular group, made friends exclusively with those who were toilet trained, and lived confidently atop his precarious pedestal. He is however shadowed by his step-sister Laura, the class valedictorian, who is an incredible high achiever and beacon of knowledge. Her only flaw? At eighteen, she is still in nappies, with no sign of a successful training anywhere in the near future. Just how she wants to keep it. Laura is an incredible annoyance to Nick, always acting innocent to play jokes on him and scratch at his ego. Her tricks pique Nick’s intrigue one day when she soils herself in front of his friends to prank them. Nick suspects that she must have control over her movements, but just chooses to lie about it. Through a series of escapades, Nick goes on a number of dates with Laura’s secret nemesis, and the most popular girl in school, Cassie. It turns out that she was using Nick to get back at Laura who knows her secret - that she still pees herself sometimes. The story concludes with Nick finding out Laura’s secret, and her admitting to him that she likes using her nappies, and likes the way that he changes her. Unfortunately, things get strange between them as they open up to each other, and Nick moves across the city when their school year ends, to go to university over there. Laura, of course, will attend the best uni in the city. Chapter 1: Houseparty Blues Nick stood out on the grass under the cool and dark night, the house’s lights flooding the backyard and shining into his eyes and face. His hand formed a visor to cut through the beams, but even still his friends were just silhouettes in the brilliance. A muffled doof-doof crawled from the cracks in the shed door to his right, buzzing across the mud and grass and into Nick’s shoes. God a dance would be good right now. He was at a party, after all. He took a sip of his beer, trying to listen to what his mate was saying, but getting distracted by a bassline that he thought he knew. These really were the best nights, those in late March when summer’s last tendrils fought the Autumn chill. This time of year brought with it a still and frosty cold, one that reminded you how late the night was, and let you snuggle into blankets to fight it, but that dissipated with the still-hot sun. Perfect weather, Nick thought. One hand on his beer, the other around his girlfriend’s waist, perfectly chill night - this was meant to be the life. So why was he on edge? “Yeah, well Nick’s having trouble with that, aren’t you, babe?” Sarah said, and Nick was pulled back from his strange anxiety into the moment. What was the question? “Trouble with what?” “With motivation at uni. You know, there’s that accounting subject you hate,” Sarah said, and Nick nodded absently, hand squeezing her waist. He found that even without thought, his fingers played with the exposed edge of her nappy’s waistband. “Oh, yeah, don’t get me started. I’d rather shit myself than listen to the lecturer.” “Big words from you!” Luke, who stood as a black figure against the light, whistled. “You’ve got a perfect streak - not a nappy since you were 14.” “Yeah, well, I’m not gonna shit myself, am I?” Nick huffed. “So I guess I’m going to keep listening to old-mate explain balancing a book.” Shitting pants, if that wasn’t Nick’s life now. He figured that he’d never see another wrecked nappy after moving away from her family and step-sister Laura, who had been using nappies for pleasure and revenge rather than necessity, but then he’d moved into a sharehouse with a girl who was legitimately incontinent... “So how’d you two meet?” Tony, the other friend in the circle asked. “First I’ve heard of this relationship.” “Oh, Nick moved in with me,” Sarah giggled. “Moving quick,” Luke joked. “It’s a sharehouse,” Nick clarified. “They had an extra bed, so I took it. Moved in about three months ago.” “And that’s how the love story starts?” Tony asked. “Yeah, sorta,” Sarah blushed. “I guess it’s a little cliche, but Nick offered to help me clean up one of my nappy blowouts, and we caught feelings from there.” “Textbook movie stuff of the modern era,” Nick joked along, although cringed behind his facade. Somewhere in the past few years Nick’s wires had crossed, and the act of cleaning a nappy and caring for somebody had become sexy, and tied itself to his off-brand masculinity. Coincidentally, Sarah must have had a thing for guys with good hands rearranging her pants, and she’d been clinging to those hands ever since. Now, though? Nick dreaded every off-smell he caught from her direction. It’d only been three months and he’d already uncrossed those misplaced wires well and truly. This girl could blow-out a nappy like a chocolate grenade, and he’d somehow been caught with the medic’s duties. She shifted in his grip, her sides tensing, and Nick’s heart dropped in dread. Not now! he whined. But she relaxed too quickly, nodding to the conversation that carried on, and no smell came. Nick wheezed his relief. “How’s the rest of uni, then?” Luke asked. “And work? I heard from Shano that you’re a bit of a salesman.” Wasn’t this the question. “Well, uni’s otherwise alright, I guess,” Nick said, deflating to think about it. What even got him excited these days? It wasn’t uni, and it really wasn’t Sarah’s dirty nappies. “I just…I dunno. I guess I thought that by nineteen I’d understand myself better, but that birthday is just a few months away and I still don’t know if I like what I’ve gotten into.” “It’s only been a few weeks, though!” Luke said. “Can’t know whetheryou like it this quick.” “Yeah, but we’ll be twenty before we know it, you know,” Nick continued his moping. “And it just seems like I’m not ready for that - to know where I want to be, and what I want to do..” “I hear you,” Luke nodded. “In any case, I can just hope that Greg was right, and that Commerce really is the degree to get. But then what, join the corporate wank-fest?” “Who’s Greg?” Tony asked, and Nick was reminded that he’d only been hanging out with this crowd for a short while. All to get away from Laura and her drama. “My step dad,” Nick answered. “You might the office world once you get there,” Luke said, then pondered. “Although I can’t imagine you just sitting at a desk for hours on end.” “Me neither,” Nick agreed. “My work now is fun, but I can’t work at a Bunnings forever.” “You could.” “Well I wouldn’t want to, either.” Nick noted, realising that he hadn’t left himself with any options. “It would be nice if I could just keep the current status quo forever. Easy work at a hardware store, get the money, pay the rent, drink on fridays, Bob’s your uncle.” “That’s what my cousin does,” Tony spoke up, and Nick almost forgot the boy was there. “He has fun with it.” “Stasis life,” Nick repeated. “It’d be great.” Just then Sarah drifted away from Nick’s grip, spreading her legs as she shifted onto her far foot. Nick’s hand rode her short skirt from her waist down to her bum, where his hand rested, cupping her nappy. () He was startled when he felt the plastic press outwards against him Without even a grunt or a wink from the girl, a load dropped into the seat of her nappy, right against his hand. The plastic ballooned against him, hot and damp, as the mess creamed into the space. He then heard the wet squelch as more poured out, exploding into the seat of her pants. The nappy’s waistband puffed out with the bubbling farts, and he was sure this would be a blowout. He was not going to deal with this right now. “Sorry to bring the mood down,” he apologised, and retracted his hand. “But I’ve got to see a toilet about a piss. I’ll be back.” And he rushed off in a puff of smoke, almost spilling his beer as he jogged across the muddy yard. Really, Nick didn’t have to piss, he just had to get away, and he fumbled hastily through the house to the lone toilet at its far end, upon which he sat and locked the door behind him. Oh well, when in Rome, and he whipped his dick out anyway, just to see if he needed to go. Meanwhile, his other hand lifted his phone, and its fingers absently gravitated their way over to instagram, onto the profile at the top of his search history. Cassie’s profile. His high-school crush, and the girl who get away. Man… Nick bit his lip, looking at her most recent photo. This girl was hot - and she’d been into him for a bit, hooking up, almost fucking. Well...it was for the purposes of social espionage on her part, but that didn’t take away the fact that it had happened. He grumbled, scrolling on, admiring her. Was there a way that, if he could go back in time, he could have kept her interest in him? She was essentially nappy-free, which on its own was a ten-outta-ten feature. Sure, she wet a pull-up or two, lots of people did, but that was relative heaven compared to the scraping up of mudcakes which he did for Sarah. Could he rekindle something here? Was it worth sending a DM? His finger hovered dangerously close to the button. This action would drive a fork in the road - on one prong, a perfect life with a perfectly hot chick and no nappies to be seen, on the other prong, the ruthless humiliation of crawling back to a crush who rejected you. Or a third prong, the one where things go alright, she leads him on, and then breaks things off again, crushing him further. Nick was almost convinced to just smash his finger down on that paper plane icon, but he used his restraint. Having not pissed, he stood and flushed the toilet so that anybody waiting wouldn’t question him as he left, and bustled back through the houseparty to the backyard. There, the glaring spotlight from the house shone harshly upon Sarah’s face,which was sour and desperate. Luke and Tony turned to greet him, their faces structured in harsh shadows. “Babe,” Sarah whined and Nick neared closer. He knew what was coming. “Yes babe,” he said, pretending not to see the distress plastered to her facade. “Babe, I made a boom boom,” she said, and sniffled for effect. “Can you clean me?” Nick sighed. “Yes, come on,” and he gestured her up the hill and towards the house. Having gotten what she wanted, she skipped merrily along and up ahead, beating him to the steps for the back door. With her ahead and in the light, he could see the extent of the job ahead. From under her short skirt the nappy bulged into sight, waistbands stained brown. In the small of her back, just above the waistband - and luckily clear of her cropped shirt - sat a pool of sticky, melted shit. A fucking blow-out, Nick sighed.

Karnevalee is one of the smaller cut diapers I am finally able to wear, and I must say: I really like them. The print is bold colors and really stands out and is totally juvenile. Mom even said "Mikey got fancy diapers!" when she changed my trash bag lol.

@DailyDi I would agree with @AbabeBill you will probably have to go to the doctor quite soon, if this does not correct itself soon. Being sick does suck, and what I do is if I determined that there is a problem, I usually will go to the doctor after the third or fourth day. I have had friends of mine tell me “I wait too long to go to the doctor until it’s too late, and I feel like crap“ and then I hear people tell me “I always go to the doctor way too much, and you just have to let it happen“ If I don’t feel right or I don’t feel good at all, I would rather go to the doctor, and have him look at me, and make sure that there’s nothing wrong with me. The one time that something didn’t feel right was when I lost my appendix. I had my family telling me that it’s not that bad, and that it’ll get better, just relax and keep drinking liquids. That sentiment would’ve been fine, the only problem is is that when I started injecting white stuff, then I started worrying, and I said “I’m coming in and I’m not gonna be feeling good so be prepared: you won’t believe what you see when you see me“ when I finally went into the doctors And I was sitting in my chair waiting for him, I was burning up with low-grade fever, but it wasn’t as bad as a normal fever where I would know the difference, because it was just barely below 100°. When the doctor saw me, he asked me a question, and I was so weak I almost fell out of my wheelchair onto the floor. The doctor caught me before I hit the floor and actually put me back in my wheelchair, then had me examined on the table, and he started from the left side and did palpitations to figure out where I hurt and when he hit my right side right above my belt, I let Out a Yeeeeeeeeowch” Doctor then says, “yup appendicitis, call the hospital:” and then he started checking the rest of me, then called in three nurses, and started giving them orders and use the word “stat “which means now – I knew I was in trouble when he started saying stuff like that, but he told me he would take care of me, and I owe that man A lot because he saved my life: if I had waited any longer, I would’ve been dead and mom or dad or someone on my family would’ve found me on the floor. Lesson I learned is that you don’t want to wait too long when you don’t feel well. It’s one thing if you wait three or four days, and then say “I feel like garbage I’m going to the doctor“. It is quite another if you wait too long, and then you’re in agony, and it might be something worse. When people tell me that I “go to the doctor all the time “I tell them “well, at least I know what is not wrong with me, and if there is I’ll know about it because I’ll check for it“. Have a good relationship with my doctor, so there shouldn’t be an issue: there was one time that I didn’t feel well, and One of his receptionist pick up the phone, and talk to me: the receptionist didn’t like the way I sounded, and it sounded like it was really bad, so they ended up transferring me to a nurse, and Dr. Curchin heard me on the phone: he told the receptionist that he was standing behind you “have him come up here right now“ he doesn’t look good. i’m pulling for you Mikey and I know that being sick sucks: I was sick for over two months with this really bad cold during the first part of the year, and it sucks when the weather changes to, as it does now, because the weather can be 30°, and then it is 40° then it goes to 50° and then the next thing you know, it’s down to 30 for about a week then it goes up to 70° – what a roller coaster! If the weather would decide to stay at one temperature during the day and one temperature during the night, I would think that my allergies wouldn’t be so bad, but that’s not the way weather works: in Vermont the saying is “if you don’t like the weather, wait five minutes, because it usually changes really fast“ Good Luck MIkey ??? Brian

You definitely have something, that needs a doctor’s attention now. This seems to long a time to be suffering with a simple infection. I hope you can soon. The old days, the doctor would come out to you. Good luck, I hope you can feel better, sucks being sick. ?

Thank you for your patience everyone and for the feedback. It is appreciated! Chapter 4: Trial Strategy If he was going to get his life back he was going to need help. While he was sure there were friendly Amazons out there, how to identify one without the risk of being adopted made them a poor choice. And well given his recent experience with Tweeners he did not really want to risk their help either. So he was going to have to find a Little, An unadopted Little. And preferably before the excess fluid in his system found it’s way into the thirsty undergarment currently spreading his legs. So where to begin? He didn’t have much time to think because he heard voices coming down the street from the direction Angela and Scott had driven off in. He peeked over the bench to see a pair of Amazon women walking purposefully towards his hiding place. “Walking on the street is out.” he thought as he looked around for other options. The street was narrow by amazon standards with barely enough room for one of their cars to pass. On the sides were a grassy shoulder with scattered park benches and beyond that a thick line of hedge bushes that provided a border from the wooded area behind it. ”Good babies get rewarded,” Flopsy chirped again. Nick scowled. “OK, Time to go before bunny blabber mouth here gives me away,” Nick thought to himself. Turning his attention back to his search for an escape route he saw a slim gap in the hedge line behind the bench that he believed he could fit through. He certainly liked the ides of having those hedges between him and the Amazons and he didn’t have time to look for much else. Tucking the bunny under his arm he dash waddled to the gap. Using his free arm before him he started to push his way through the hedges with his mittened hand. His poofy dress pushed up against the branches but still managed to slide with him. His left arm finally found the other side and he had gotten his body about three quarters of the way though the hedges. It was then that he felt pull of his dress as the hem snagged on a branch. “Not like this.” He thought to himself. He was completely out of sight being fully enveloped in the hedge but he was not going to be able to move with out a significant amount of rustling, He figured it was safer to wait until they passed and then try to move on. He remained still and quiet. “Hang on Bev I got to tie my shoe,” the one woman said as she approached the bench and put her foot up to adjust her laces. Nick would hardly let himself breathe as she was just so close. The other woman approached. “So yeah Gina said that sissies are all the rage now,” she said seeming to pick up their former conversation. “All the rambunctiousness of a boy wrapped up in a delicate sweet little package of a girl.” “I don’t know,” said the woman switching to her other foot. “I mean I know some emasculation can sometimes help calm a Little but a full time sissy? Seems to me like it would make the transition harder,” “Oh no, not at all,” Bev replied. “According to the article Gina read, she says that for the right Little, suppressing their gender along with their false maturity can be very effective and make for an easier and deeper transition. Ninety five percent compliance after one year.” “Impressive numbers,” said the woman finishing with her shoe, “But I still don’t know. It’s probably just some marketing gimmick to sell more baby dresses.” “That may be,” said Bev, “But they are SO adorable!” “Well I like my little Jon Jon just as he is.” the first responded. “C’mon, Nanny Gwen was eager to get the baby home for his nap and I don’t want to keep her waiting.” “I don’t blame you,” replied Bev with a chuckle “She scares me.” The two of them returned to their walk and Nick finally let himself exhale. Once he was sure they were gone he reached back to unsnag the hem of his dress form the hedge and came out the other side. The wooded area was reasonably thick, but there was a rough path that cut through most of the foliage. He imagined that most Littles could pass through it with ease but between his waddling steps and the poofy petticoat under his dress he was slow moving. But at least he was moving, not a sitting duck on the side of the street. “Let’s sing the potty song,” Flopsy uttered out of the blue. “When I have to pee or poo. Then I know just what to do,” the toy sang. Nick clutched the bunny to his chest and it mostly muffled the sound, He also noticed that he could position it to cover up the note on his chest. Two birds with one stone, he thought. As he moved along the path tightly clutching the bunny to his chest he could still hear the sounds of children playing. After a few minutes Flopsy song much have come to and end as it stopped singing. Nick relaxed his grip on the toy. He was now at a fork in the path. To the right it appeared to head to an opening to a large field. To the left the path continued deeper into the wood. If I go just to the edge of the path I could maybe get a better view of the layout of the park and see if I can find any unaccompanied Littles. He crept up to the edge of the path. The bushes closed in again just around the exit to the main park area mostly concealing the entrance to the path. This made for a perfect place for Nicholas to get a good view of the rest of the park without risking too much exposure. Crouching down He peered out over the bushes. At first glance this park looked very similar to the public park in Freewind. There were people dotted about all engaged in different activities. There were picnic blankets spread out around a large open field with a few concrete walkways through it. He saw some people tossing around a ball, and children playing. At the other end of the field there was a playground with mother’s pushing their babies in little swings. It all looked so perfectly normal. But it wasn’t normal. Nick knew that many of those babies and little children were not children at all. As he stared he noticed that most the children seemed to have bulging middles. Diapers. All of them in diapers. Some were even thicker than what he was wearing and seemed to be made so that the wearer couldn’t even stand let alone walk. His eyes went from group to group. All of them seemed to be composed of Amazons. There were plenty of smaller people, some of them Littles and a few of them actual Amazon children. He even spotted a few Tweeners scattered amidst the park. And then he saw them. A couple hundred yards away in the shade of a small clump of tress was a Little Family. No Amazons. Actual Little children. They had placed their blanket away from everyone else seemingly not wanting to be a part of the crowd, and who could blame them. But this was his best shot at getting help getting out of this mess. He scanned the area and figured if he walked along the edge of the woods to his left he could make it to the family without coming too close to any Amazons. He clenched his bladder again and took a deep breath. You can do this Nick. He thought psyching himself up to expose himself for the trip across the field, It all of a sudden looked so very far away. Standing up he prepared to take his first step forward. "Well Flopsy, it's now or never." He paused, as if waiting for the toy to answer, when to his right a voice screamed “I AM NOT A YOUR LITTLE GIRL!!” End Chapter 4

This sounds like fun, 2 months huh? I will definitely attempt! Hopefully if I catch up on my own work I can work on this! I probably have a few ideas for this? thanks for the opportunity! Good luck to eveyone and have fun!

I am sure you would little buddy

Myself and that is probably how it will always be.

It took me the longest time to enjoy masturbating in my diaper because I did it when I was a teenager and got mad at myself because I thought I was the only person who liked them. The experience was so bad I quit diapers for the next nine years. Even when I started to wear again as a adult it still took me years to actually do it because I thought I would get mad and quit wearing diapers again. Eventually I finally did do it despite being scared out of my mind, and now it is not that big a deal any more.

Well I have to say no since I am the little brother.

I would have to say being able to effectively tape a diaper on so it is nice and snug but not too tight. I always feel like I get them taped on wrong.

I voted on this too. I have been using stents for years I a row now literally 24/7 and to be honest by now I am fine with that. It is a strange phenomenon in the first place, being an adult yet having these overwhelming feelings and desires to no control and be dependent on diapers. Well I do have an enormous desire to have no control over my wettings and I have to deal with that, but on the other hand I will not cause harm to a healthy body, that is basically where I draw the line. Ferix shared a lot of, I think, good information on his desires and the path he took to achieve his goal. Personally I found it very helpful to make the right decisions for me as I could not oversee the long term consequences of such a profound decision. I think I’ll stick with stents for about as long as I can. What the future brings I cannot tell you but so far using a stent never caused me any problems no UTI no nothing. I have been reading up on medical stents like the “Memocath” but they do not come without their problems like ingrowth so they are being monitored by the urologist. For me the stent works fine to make me feel comfortable and complete. The only downside to this method is, you’ll have to take it out every once in a while to clean it. But other than that to me it is a great way to achieve my goal and feel in contact with who I am.

And that's why I am permanently kept in diapers and I am never ever allowed out of diapers. I'm certainly not even allowed to wear adult underwear as well.

It takes all my concentration and willpower, and maybe SOMETIMES I can. I call it an impulse, but its actually the presesonsory tic that accompanies the actual tic. Like If I get a sudden strong impulse to raise my hand for no reason, it means I'm about to do it involuntarily. But when the tic is really strong, I don't get that warning, it just happens. I guess it's more like a build up of pressure in the affected part of the body.

Yes it helped in a lot of ways. I would often give myself black eyes from punching myself in the face. ( once I had really put myself in my place lol I had a really bad black eye, bruised face and nose and a lady stopped me in a bathroom and gave me a card for a domestic abuse help center. She thought I was in an abusive relationship and I had to tell her I did it to myself lmao) so I don't punch myself as often, or others, or walls. I'm not falling down as much. Involuntarily twerking in a check out line isn't a thing anymore THANK GOD ? If I got too close to people I would have to fight off the impulse to lick them. Some strangers weren't so lucky, mask mandate really helped with that, it acted like a muzzle lol I don't throw things as often, although I do still occasionally pour drinks over my head. I still need to drink things with a cover or lid because it seems to lesson the impulse. I can sit still and write and focus much better now. I had this bad impulse to throw myself into traffic, off bridges, high places etc. Not like I was suicidal, but it's called Call of the Void. That's much more controlled.

No it doesn't hurt. It's kind of funny because now I generate my own Bluetooth signal lol I have a little remote and a cellphone with an app on it where I can control the electricity a little bit. It's always on and constantly shocking me. What I do feel is when I change settings. 0.o Oh that is trippy! I feel like it's the closest thing to feeling what jumping into hyper space is like lol It's almost like everything is suddenly rushing forward and I need to hold on to something. I'm being used as a guini pig because it's not FDA approved for tourette's, I had to be approved by an entire medical board. I had to send them videos of how bad my tics were, prove how much it was impacting my life etc.

@DailyDi The machine you refer to was called the “Foodaracicycle”. I wonder what machine they would be using in that time period to take care of children and change diapers, whether they be children’s diapers adult diapers. I’ve seen a MGM cartoons I think where Porky and Daffy work in some sort of office where they deal with delivering babies, you know, like the ones they say the stork brings? They will end up repairing the babies for delivery. In that scene, the machine was working fine and doing what it was supposed to, and then something went haywire with that machine, and then all of a sudden Porky and Daffy got sucked into the machine. They start to struggle the arms grab them, they end up struggling some more, And the next thing you know a soft rubber mallet comes out and knocks them on the head which knocks them out. They are then dressed and baby clothing with a bonnet porky on the bottom I believe, and Daffy under a diaper. Was kind of funny. If I had one of these food machines, I would program it to be able to give me every vegetable that I could think of, and then I could figure out which ones I liked. I would have it programmed for my favorite meals, and then I would be able to make different ones depending on what I felt like eating. That way I would be able to eat almost anything that could be imaginable. That way I could also be healthier, because I would be able to make sure that most of the food I am eating is healthy. Because we probably will not live until the next century, it is impossible for us to know what the future will bring, but I don’t know if it will get to the point where we will be pushing buttons and getting food out of machines like this. The closest thing that I can. Think of would be like if you went to an auto mat, you know the place that sells food behind a glass container or a box, and you put say $3.50 in it and it opens up and you can take out a sandwich? We can dream, but I don’t know if that will come. Who knows, with all the technology we have today maybe they will have a way to make such a machine, and maybe that way we could walk up to a machine and tell that machine what do you want to eat, and it would make it for you. The only problem would be how much is the machine would charge you after they make it for you. In your case I would make sure that your machine would be able to have a cure for whatever ails you, because it kind of sucks to be sick, and maybe the machine would have a way to help you feel better. Brian

I recall hearing a story once, probably here, about someone working with a psychiatrist to get diagnosed with body dismorphia as a result of being continent, and the psychiatrist made the case to a surgeon, and the surgeon did the operation. I'm not sure what surgery that would be, however, that didn't lead to unintended consequences like impotence. And of course no idea if it was true.

I tried the powder formula years ago with my ABDL friends and it didn't taste very good.

Of course little buddy always

Back in the day I always wanted to expose my diaper in public hopping some kind women would want to baby me. Unfortunately that’s just fantasy but honestly does it really matter what you wear and how you wear it as long as your not being crude. As a trans person I know I don’t care what people think of what I’m wearing anymore

As depicted by Cmp, a wet diaper is better than wet pants.

My morning diaper as is usual for me is wet and messy right now. This is a very nice satiny soft, but not runny loaded diaper, the perfect squish. A Tykables Little Builders diaper is doing a good job: wet, messy, and squishy inside, but dry, and clean on the outside. I won't change for several hours and plan to get my morning exercise in my wet and poopy diaper. I already have a NS Lite diaper, in blue with a booster out ready for the rest of the day. I'll wet during the day around my wife, but no messy diapers. Would I like to, YES, would I like her to call me over and check my diaper: YES, but as the Rolling Stones said in a song "You can't always get want you want."

so am I permanently in diapers I was walking home and my diaper was so full it exploded so I had to take a off

No one lets y ou use the restroom here >.< they put fake Out of Order signs on the door ?

I was with friends who don't know/ need to know I wear.

Not happy about it ?? neither was she happy about the time I shit myself in her car ??????

I've seen those before. Those look pretty good. Those types of footed sleepers I mean. Although I wouldn't really consider them "adult baby sleepers" because they just don't have that baby footed jammies feel. It's hard to explain. but, they look more akin to something like the snuggie rather than a baby sleeper. That's why I never bought any of them. And to really get that baby sleeper feel in my opinion, you have to have it custom made. Which is a pain in the ass.???????? But so is building an adult baby crib and highchair. So that's just one more thing we have to deal with.???

Back home and I don't have to change my diapers before bed time.

They are real. I saw them in the Meijer store, but couldn't get them at the time. I should be able to tomorrow though.

That's funny buddy, because I feel the same way about you!??♥️☺️ LOL! I would LOVE to hang out with you in real life. What do you mean by, "I have no respect for social norms?"???? And also feel free to hit me up if you need anything. And that goes for you too @SashaButters!

Pee's in your diaper drawer

@DailyDiI've been on Paint.net and drawn up a scheme to improve your motorcar, all you need is an angle grinder, some welding gear and some extra parts and you can turn your car from this INTO THIS! Get rid of the back seats and turn the back into a pick up truck, fit chunky wheels and tires and jack up the suspension to give it more ground clearance Pull the FCA engine out and stick an American V8 under the hood from a Mustang and fit a massive tale pipe out the back so it makes a more entertaining noise and Bob's your uncle: oh and a 4-wheel drive system if you ain't got one already. You might void the warranty but you should totally do it anyway because of reasons.

So, I read the original and was instantly in love with the world. Once I finished, i sorta went full little, and thought it was the ONLY ONE THAT EVER EXISTED and that I would NEVER READ PETVERSE STUFF AGAIN. So, I was like, Hell no, we're doing this. And so I started writing. So I discovered Kimmy from "The usual bet", and then from there started reading Sophie and Pudding's stuff. Somehow I only noticed that people put lists of stories in their signatures after I finished Keeper's pet. Once I noticed that, I started seeing things about the Keeperverse, and was like "oh. Lots of people write stories here. Cool." I haven't read any of the other Keeperverse stuff, and I plan to wait until I finish this, just so my ideas on the story stay somewhat fixed. But I'm super looking forward to reading other people's stuff in this world, including yours ––––Author commentary––– TW: Abuse, Probably TMI lol I think I also tend a sort of fictional realism? Pet Protective Services (PPS) in the first draft of the scene map was sort of like a throwaway. One of the changes I want to make once I've written the whole story is developing Amanda a little earlier. The main tension of the story was actually supposed to come from Gy loosing her Job, which was why I focused a lot on Kristy's competency in her introduction. All that got thrown out in a revision, when I realized it didn't really fit the characters I had been developing for Gy and Kristy, and didn't make sense with the main storyline I developed. This wasn't a conscious choice, but I found myself wanting to (1) Let my characters travel into things that felt abusive, but also (2) for there to be a really robust support system for them to grow and heal from those mistakes. This really came out through this last chapter, and the next one. I went through a lot of abuse when I was young, and CPS was never called for me, even though in retrospect they totally should have been. There were Adults in my life who made the wrong call, and I got hurt by it. The characters aren't 1:1 or anything: none of the characters I've written are inspired directly by people I know. Gy's not at all inspired by my abuser. But being able to write something with just the assumption that "Yeah, adults aren't going to let real abuse happen here" resonated really deeply with me while writing it. Glad you're enjoying it!

I wish your brother rebelled against the whole potty training regime and was stubborn and refused to give up his diapers. That way y'all could be diaper bros, and make your Mommy change y'all's diapers!?☺️???? And have lots of diapered fun together!?????????♥️???♥️

One thing I am so glad about being kept in diapers is that they always constantly remind me why I am an adult baby and why I am kept in diapers. They have a way of constantly tell me that I belong in diapers and I am never gona be allowed out of them.

Yep and now I won’t give it up

Okay! Sorry about the delay, like I said this one is a bit streamier and took me a bit to workout. Have a very happy Full Moon Friday! (CW: Edging, Sexual play, Messing) https://toofplaypen.wordpress.com/2022/03/25/first-moon-forever-21/ It took me less than a week to explore the DL side of ABDL. Liliana was busy with pack business, so while home alone I was running around doing stuff in just a diaper and t-shirt. I was starting to realize just how nice they felt. Beyond the fact that they made me feel small, cute and safe, they also just excited me in a way I didn't realize at first. Especially when wet. The warm padding pressed against me as I moved. It was unlike anything I had really experienced before and I was realizing how bothered I was getting. With the house clean, I went to my room and pulled my pink wand from the bottom of my 'toy chest', crawled into my bed and took a deep breath. With the head pressed into the crinkling plastic, the toy hummed to life. Instantly the vibration sent chills up my spine. In my already excited state I wasn't expecting just how nice it would feel and let out a howl. "Excuse me?" Liliana snapped me back to attention. I must have been so caught up in my arousal that I didn't even pay attention to the world around me. She made her way quickly to me and growled softly. Taking the wand from my hand, she squeezed my sodden diapered crotch. "Mine." She huffed out and nipped my ear. I bit back a moan as she took control. "Stay." She commanded. Her eyes were bright. The wolf was enjoying this too. So I lay there on my bed, a needy mess, waiting to see what she had in mind for her naughty little girl. It was only a few minutes, but to my flustered brain it felt like hours. When she came back she had the box of fun stuff I had picked recently and all but her underwear were gone. I gasped and squirmed. "Oh…Liliana? Now? I was so close." "I know you were, and you didn't even wait for me. So very naughty of you. You're just going to have to learn." She tutted at me as she took a wrist and locked the first of the cuffs around it. "No. No no no. Please, no?" I fussed and squirmed as she repeated the process on each limb. Before chaining the cuffs to the straps coming from under my mattress, she looked me in the eyes. I knew she could get the answer she wanted just from my eyes or accent even, but I still thought 'green' to her. With me all secured, she strapped the wand to my leg and left it to buzz on low into my damp diaper. She twirled across my room to my closet, wiggling out of her panties as she went. I watched from my bed longingly as she took one of the Unicorn diapers from my shelf and gave me the crinkliest reverse-strip tease ever. I was huffing as I pulled against my bonds. I knew I could break them, but my mistress had put them on and that was enough to keep me from actually getting free. Liliana danced at the foot of my bed, her padded rump swaying from side to side and driving me crazy. How was I this turned on by a fetish I had never even considered a month before? I wasn't given too long to question it, because Liliana crawled onto my bed between my legs and over me. She pressed the wand between our diapers as she started to grind and pant herself. Now that she was astride me, she licked my neck, kissing all the way up til I turned to meet her. She kissed me deeply. A kiss that was both passionate and possessive. I could feel her energy as I returned it wholly. I was hers, but she was mine too. As fast as she had been on top of me, she was gone and so was the wand. I let out a whimper as she leaned against the footboard. Looking me in the eyes she licked her lips. The magic wand hummed across the smooth plastic of her diaper. I was left to whine as she moaned with pleasure. I squirmed against my bonds, but it thrilled her more. Watching me wiggle helplessly as she grew ever closer to bliss. She pressed the wand more firmly into the crinkling padding, her muscles tensed and her breathing quickened. She was truly beautiful to watch and I was more needy than ever. She chimed off the bed and lowered the rails so she could come right up beside my ear. "Oh, does my little pup want to cum too? Then do it.~" And I knew exactly what she meant. I had brought it up a few days ago and how I didn't know if it was for me or not, but here I was. Strapped down to my bed, the head of the wand playing against my soaking wet diaper and... I whined. I closed my eyes, bit my lip and started pushing. The more I pushed out, the more intense Liliana got with the wand until all I knew was I was in bliss as the mess pressed against my rump. I was not the Rachel I came to the city as a month ago. I don't think that version of me would ever understand how something so gross and juvenile could be ecstasy. (Edited by @Alice-chan)

“Oh, I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.” Miss Honey said, pulling along the same wagon Matilda, according to Hortensia, had claimed as her own. Matilda smiled, lying atop the many pillows to make it more comfy and spread out her arms. Riding in the wagon was much more fun when she wasn’t vomiting over the edge. “We have to… face her eventually, and the more… you put off going back to work… the more trouble you’ll get into.” Matilda said through several pauses. Matilda was more than ready to be back in class, even if she had just gotten out of the hospital. The thought of spending another day in bed was enough to drive her mad. She missed her friends terribly, so much that she had even agreed to Jenny’s conditions. No leaving the classroom unless accompanied by her. No using her powers unless absolutely necessary to defend herself. If anyone asked what happened to her, she had her tonsils removed. She had no memory of the Trunchbull’s visit. She’d be wearing a diaper. Matilda had argued the last condition so much, Jenny had put her foot down. “You’ll wear it, or you won’t go to school at all. That’s final.” Matilda had been so shocked she had quickly agreed and hadn’t brought it up again. “I’m sorry, Matilda, but you know I can’t stop and leave the class unattended to help you, and I don’t expect you to be able to hold it all day.” Matilda didn’t like it, but she understood. Walking was still incredibly painful. Her body still felt like she had been involved in a serious car accident, and she didn’t possess the strength yet to pull herself on and off the toilets. Even the strain of walking while needing to go often led to her bladder voiding itself from the effort, so Jenny often carried her to the bathroom, set her on the toilet, and let her try and make her way back to bed on her own, although she stayed close to catch her if she fell. The closer they got to school the more Miss Honey’s anxiety increased. Matilda could feel it building in the pit of her stomach, at least she thought it was coming from Miss Honey. The two of them had gone over their lines and roles all day yesterday. Jenny would have to pretend she “got the message” and slip back into her terrorized, subservient role no matter how much she hated what she saw or heard. The Trunchbull had to believe she was too terrified to lift a finger. Matilda had found it fun giving Jenny ideas. Not only would they have to convince the Trunchbull Jenny was terrified, that was the easy part, she would also have to believe Jenny’s interest in Matilda was merely a hobby. “I never adopted her” Jenny would say. “She stays with me during the week, so I can tutor her in the evenings, then she goes back home on the weekends. It’s only temporary, until her parents find her a proper tutor. I hear they're even looking into sending her to boarding school out of state.” And if the Trunchbull asked what Jenny got out of it, she’d shrug and say, “It’s not everyday I get the opportunity to work with a genius.” That was the plan. Jenny would have to pass Matilda off as some kind of freak of nature Jenny took interest in studying. As for hitting her with the chair, “I had to stop you somehow Headmistress, it was for your own good. Her parents are counting on her to make them loads of money in the future, everyone else might look the other way, but I hear they have connections with the Italian Mafia.” “Matilda, there’s no way she’d buy that! The Italian Mafia? Really?” Miss Honey had said with a laugh. “That part's actually true,” Matilda had said. “They have my dad make stolen cars untraceable for them, although I doubt they’d lift a finger, he’s in hot water with them last I checked.” When they got to the school, Miss Honey turned around. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay with Eve?” Matilda wrinkled her face. Matilda was still angry with her, and she knew Jenny was too. It was clearly a last ditch effort to keep Matilda away from the Trunchbull, but she couldn’t hide forever. “I want… to go… to school.” Matilda said, ignoring the butterflies swarming around in her stomach. They made their way in through the back of the building, the only way in with a ramp, and headed towards the year one classroom. They passed Hortensia on the way, peering inside the Trunchbull’s office. “I hope you’re not up to anything already.” Miss Honey said making Hortensia jump. “O-of course not.” Hortensia said, hiding her hands behind her back. She looked down, now noticing Matilda for the first time. “Hey! Your back!” “So…are you…” Matilda wheezed. “Geeze, what happened to your voice? You sound like a rubber chicken being held under the faucet.” “Tonsils.” Matilda mumbled. She hated lying to her friends, but she couldn’t risk the plan. “You’re a walking train wreck.” Hortensia said with a shake of her head. Matilda shrugged. It was true, it seemed to be one thing after another lately. “We’re going to the classroom, you can come along if you’d like.” Miss Honey said. Matilda could sense she was eager to get away from the Headmistresses door. Hortensia gave one last look at the office before following along. “What did you do…with the spiders?” Matilda asked. She had a feeling she knew exactly what Hortensia had done with them, if the Trunchbull was to be believed. The wicked smile that began to spread across Hortensia’s face told Matilda all she needed to. “I’m not even going to ask.” Miss Honey said. She dug in her coat pocket for her keys, before unlocking her classroom door, but when she opened it, she stopped. Miss Honey let out a loud sigh. Matilda couldn’t see from behind Jenny’s legs, but when she was finally dragged in she saw what had upset her. Everything colorful had been ripped from the walls. Where children’s artwork had once hung, there was now only tape residue. All the bright and smiling decorations were gone, and the animal stickers had been peeled off, leaving the room gutted and a depressing shade of brown like the rest of the school. Matilda felt a wave of anger. She knew how hard Jenny had worked to make her classroom look inviting and friendly as possible, despite the lack of money. She had even made most of the paper crafts herself, and now to see Jenny’s hard work sitting ripped to shreds in the waste paper basket enraged her. “It’s not the end of the world, Matilda. Don’t even think about it.” Miss Honey said. “Rule number two, remember.” Hortensia looked from Miss Honey to Matilda before finally asking. “What’s rule number two?” “No powers.” Matilda mumbled. “If I wanted to… come back to school… I have to follow…mom’s rules.” “You know I love it when you call me the ‘M word’, but remember where we are Matilda, it’s more important now than ever.” “Yes, Miss Honey.” Matilda said, trying to hide her smile. She had been out of school for too long, and now calling her Miss Honey felt strange after calling her ‘mom’ and on some occasions ‘mommy.’ “Hortensia, would you mind taking this to the dumpster? I don’t want the other kids to see.” Miss Honey said, pointing down to the trashcan. “Sure,” Hortensia said, picking it up with one hand. “Oh.” She began pulling pieces of a picture out and setting it on the desk. “Look.” Matilda was too low to the ground to see, but Miss Honey bent over the desk to examine it. Matilda could see a pained smile on her face and wondered what it was. “I’ll think I’ll keep these and tape it back up.” “What is it?” Matilda asked. “It’s a Get Well Soon card the kids made me.” Miss Honey said, continuing to stare at the pieces. Matilda balled her hands into fists. She was going to have a hard time following rule number two. When the bell rang and kids slowly began to trickle in, shouts of excitement filled the room at Miss Honey’s return. Almost everyone wanted to give her a hug and ask her how she was feeling. Matilda smiled from the back of the classroom and watched as she stretched out in the wagon. Sitting up for long periods was still too taxing. She wanted to be in her desk by Lavender, but she knew she’d be too exhausted and in pain by the end of the hour. So she had opted for a corner in the back with her backpack and a chair, so she could prop up her books to read. “Miss Honey.” Lavender said from her desk once the commotion of their teacher's return had died down. “Do you know if Matilda’s coming back at all?” “Look behind you,” Miss Honey said. Lavender spun eyeing all the faces in all the other desks, before turning around and giving Miss Honey, what Matilda could only assume, was a look of puzzlement. “A little lower.” Miss Honey said with a smile, “No, not on the floor, a bit higher. Keep looking. Getting warmer. Warmer. No, colder. Warmer aannnnnd bingo!” Matilda grinned and waved from her spot in the corner until Lavender’s eyes met hers. “Matilda! Where have you been?” Lavender said, springing from her seat and charging to the back taking Matilda completely by surprise and squeezing her in a bear hug. “Oww oww oww.” Matilda said. “Ohh, Lavender, do be careful! She’s not quite up to par yet!” Miss Honey called. Lavender quickly released her and looked her up and down. “What happened to you? You’re all green and purple!” “I crashed… my bike…into a rosebush.” Matilda lied. Lavender frowned looking even more concerned. “What happened to your voice?” “I had to…get…my tonsils removed.” Matilda croaked. Her throat was starting to burn from talking so much. She met Miss Honey’s eyes, who mimicked drinking from a glass. Matilda pulled the thermos out of her backpack and took a few sips. “Lavender, you can catch up later, please return to your seat.” “But why is she back here by herself, Miss Honey?” Lavender asked. “Because I don’t think Matilda wants to be eye level with everyone’s bottoms.” Miss Honey answered, creating explicit giggles from the room. “But what if we pulled her desk out, then she could sit in front and see fine.” Matilda shrugged as Miss Honey looked at her questioningly. “If Matilda’s okay with that, then it’s fine with me.” Miss Honey said. Before Matilda could answer, Lavender had already picked up the handle and began pulling the wagon forward. After a quick re-arranging of desks, Matilda found herself directly in the front, with Lavender behind her whispering about what she had missed. Miss Honey gave her an apologetic smile, but Matilda didn’t mind, although it would make discretion a bit more challenging. “There’s no getting in trouble now, Matilda. Not with you right under my nose.” Miss Honey said playfully. She pointed to her eyes with two fingers, then at Matilda. “I’m watching you.” Matilda chuckled along with the class. Matilda found it difficult, probably for the first time in her life, to find the motivation to crack open one of her books. She wanted to just sit and watch Miss Honey in her element. She seemed happier than she had all week, now that she was back with her class. Suddenly, Matilda felt a pang of something she wasn’t quite familiar with. She was certain it was an emotion, and she was certain it was one of her own, but she couldn’t quite place it. She must have sat there for quite some time spacing out, because the next thing she knew the class was giggling, and Miss Honey was waving a hand in front of her face. “Matilda, are you sure you’re up for this?” Miss Honey asked, squatting down to be eye level with her. “You haven’t even opened a book yet.” “Yes! Sorry, mo-Miss Honey.... I just got lost in thought… for a moment. I’m fine, really.” Matilda said, before reaching into her bag and pulling out her math workbook. “Well, if it ever gets to be too much, I can always have Mrs. Rodgers take you to lie down in her office.” Miss Honey whispered. “Or you can close your eyes here for a bit, although I’m not sure how much rest you’d get up front in all the commotion.” Matilda smiled. “I think… if I stayed back there….I’d feel left out.” Matilda said, surprised at how true the words sounded to her. “Well, alright, but keep drinking water, you sound terrible.” It hadn’t taken long for Matilda to forget her surrounding completely once she got into her studies. Her quest for knowledge seemed to outweigh her desire to participate and by the time she looked up, nearly three hours had passed. That was the nice thing about independent studies, if she wanted to focus on one subject, she could spend all day on it if she wanted to. She looked over the pages she had completed, surprised she had gone through a full week of lessons without stopping. While she was reaching over and swapping out subjects, she realized she had to pee. Oh, c’mon! She thought, feeling a bit sullen. If she could wait just two and a half more hours until lunch, Miss Honey would be free to take her to the restroom, as was their agreed upon terms, so Matilda could try and go number two to avoid having to use the diaper. Her classmate Nigel had once pooped his pants and the classroom had smelled horrid all day. Miss Honey had promised her she wouldn’t make her do that, and she’d call Mrs. Rodgers to take her to the restroom if need be. Matilda wasn’t thrilled with the idea of Mrs. Rodgers standing nearby while Matilda tried to poop, but it certainly beat the alternative. Matilda tried to busy herself with other subjects, but she just couldn’t commit all her attention to her work in this state. She tried changing positions, and wiggling her feet, but with limited room to squirm about the urge just kept building more and more rapidly. Matilda couldn’t keep the glare off her face as, one by one, hands began to raise and ask to be excused. When she was about to switch positions for the tenth time, her eyes met Miss Honey’s, and she stopped. Miss Honey seemed to be able to read her like an open book now, and while still speaking to the class, tapped the side of her waist with her index finger a few times. Matilda scowled and looked away. The hand sign had been meant for her, Miss Honey was telling her to use the diaper. Matilda looked up at the clock and sighed. They still had an hour and a half left. She caught Miss Honey waving her finger at her in a “no-no” gesture before pointing at her waist again, all while reciting the three times tables. Matilda kept holding it for another ten minutes, before getting a stern glare from Jenny she hadn’t expected. Matilda gulped and sat still as Miss Honey passed, casually dropping a piece of paper in Matilda’s lap. She opened the crumbled note and sighed in defeat. A Deal’s a Deal Resigned to her fate, Matilda hoisted her book bag onto her lap and pretended to dig through it, using it as a cover to hide the deep blush that was creeping up her face. At least it wasn’t like using a bed pan with someone standing over her waiting for her to go, she thought, until she saw Miss Honey eyeing her. Sort of. Ok, you can do this, she thought to herself. Don’t think about all your closest friends sitting mere inches away from you. She leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes, clutching her book back to her chest for support. She fought against the panicked feeling building in her chest as her crotch began to grow warm. It’s not an accident if you do it on purpose. Her heart was beginning to beat faster and faster. She could hear a faint hiss. She clutched the bag even tighter and prayed no one else could hear it either. Miss Honey’s voice was coming closer as she asked the class what 8 times 3 was. Oh no! Matilda realized. The power was building behind her eyes. The burning was beginning to become too much. Her panic was feeding the power. She had to break rule two, or her eyes would melt! She quickly opened her eyes and met Miss Honey’s worried expression. Instead of panicking, Miss Honey reached into her pocket and pulled out a tiny rubber ball. She bounced it in front of Matilda, who focused and kept the rhythm going for as long as it took, until her bodily urges, both in her eyes and in her bladder, seemed to be satisfied. Miss Honey bent down and scooped up the ball, before putting it back in her pocket and giving Matilda’s head a reassuring pat before carrying on with the lesson as if nothing had happened. “What was that about?” Lavender whispered in her ear. Matilda just shook her head, now exhausted and closed her eyes. Matilda didn’t open her eyes again until Miss Honey had dismissed them all for lunch. “Oh, you want me to pull you while I run?” Lavender asked her. Matilda was about to say no, but Miss Honey beat her too it. “Sorry, Lavender, but I have to take Matilda to the nurses' office for her medicine, but you two can catch up in the cafeteria after.” “Sorry,” Matilda mumbled as Miss Honey pulled her into Mrs. Rodger's office. “It’s alright, dear, you’re just going to have to learn not to get so worked up next time.” Matilda didn’t want there to be a next time. “I’m just trying to figure out what makes it so uncontrollable. Is it anger? Embarrassment? Any strong emotion? Does it have to be negative?” Matilda wasn’t really sure herself. She sat lost in thought as Miss Honey rolled her into the single bathroom unit in the nurse's office. “Lift your dress, and I’ll get you out of that.” Matilda lifted it above her waist as Miss Honey examined things below. “These are much better than the ones we had at home.” Matilda preferred the ones she could pull on and off herself, but now that she didn’t have much mobility or independence, there wasn’t much of a need. Miss Honey ripped the tabs off and pulled it out from under her. “Are you ready?” Matilda nodded, and Miss Honey lifted her up and set her on the toilet. “Was it really that bad?” Miss Honey asked from the other side of the bathroom to give Matilda some space. “I was scared kids could hear.” Matilda admitted. “Well, maybe you could try and not make it so obvious next time.” Miss Honey said with a grin. “You don’t even need to stop what you're working on.” Matilda let out an audible groan before flushing the toilet. “Done?” Matilda nodded before being scooped up. “You’re braver than I am. When I was your age I was terrified the toilet would suck me down with it.” Miss Honey admitted. “I was so scared I wouldn’t flush, until my aunt-” Miss Honey stopped after realizing what she was saying. “Never mind.” “You can say… if you want.” Matilda said. “No, it’s not very nice. Some things shouldn’t be repeated.” Matilda wanted to ask her if she had given therapy another chance, but her throat was too raw, so she just nodded and stayed silent. “Let’s finish getting you settled, then we can go to the cafeteria for lunch. Lavender is probably thinking I stole you.” Once they had exited the bathroom, Miss Honey laid Matilda down on her back on a cot and pulled the curtain around them. “Did you…have to…deal with this…in the hospital?” Matilda asked, holding her dress out of the way so Jenny could finish. “I think I would have made a run for it if I had, truth be told.” Miss Honey admitted, before seeing the look on Matilda’s face and adding, “You’re just a child, it’s different. You may be mentally years beyond your classmates, but your body isn’t. You haven’t gone through puberty, yet, be thankful for that.” Matilda grimaced as the cold wipes made contact with her skin. “It still… feels weird.” Matilda said. “Would you prefer Mrs. Rodger’s help you instead? Would it make it easier on you? She is a medical professional.” “No!” Matilda answered a bit too quickly. She had been on the receiving end of this sort of thing by four different people now, and Miss Honey was, by far, the gentlest. The others were certainly faster and more sure of themselves, but Matilda didn’t care much for being man handled and flipped around. The rough treatment left her feeling stunned and a tad bit violated. “You’re better…at it. I just wish…I could…hold it better…” Miss Honey smiled as she taped up a fresh diaper and offered Matilda a hand to help her sit up. “You expect too much of yourself, dear.” She saw the look of doubt on Matilda’s face. “When we get back to class, pick a kid, any kid and pay attention to how often they ask to be excused. You’re perfectly fine the way you are.” “You said…in the hospital…you were going to…put me in pull-ups…to prevent…accidents…” “Matilda,” Miss Honey said, dropping her voice to a whisper. “It’s not those kinds of accidents I’m worried about. It’s the more supernatural kind that concerns me. You got seriously hurt because someone reacted poorly to kids just being kids. The idea is to prevent something like that from happening again. I swear, if the other children blew things up with their mind too when they had an accident, I’d make pull-ups a requirement for the whole class!” Matilda giggled. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. I’m just trying to make things as easy for you as possible right now, okay?” Matilda nodded her head. “Could…I…” She swallowed and winced. She had really over done it talking today. “What is it?” “Have a… hug?” Matilda finished, suddenly feeling shy. Miss Honey smiled. “Of course you can. Are you having a rough day?” Matilda nodded. She was in pain and feeling exhausted already. She frowned when Miss Honey wrapped a single arm around her and let go. “Not a…Miss Honey…hug.” Jennifer frowned. “What do you mean? Not a hug from me?” She asked feeling slightly puzzled. “Not a…Miss…Honey hug.” Matilda repeated, trying to get the words out through the pain. “I want a…” Matilda blushed and looked away. “What? Tell me what you want, dear.” Miss Honey asked sitting next to her on the cot. “I want…a hug…from…mommy.” Matilda whispered, face now glowing red. Miss Honey sighed. “You know we’re at school, dear.” Miss Honey whispered, “You know I enjoy all our mommy/ daughter time just as much, if not more, but it has to wait until we get home. I have to be Miss Honey now. You know that.” Matilda nodded, she did understand, but she couldn’t stop her shoulders from slumping. She had grown accustomed to getting to snuggle whenever she wanted this week, but now that they were back in school, Matilda was finding it difficult to have her so close, but so far. Matilda was suddenly struck by a realization, and It made her cringe. The feeling that she couldn’t place from earlier. It had been jealousy. She was jealous of having to share Miss Honey with the rest of the class! “Ugh!” Matilda moaned, hiding her face in her hands. “What’s wrong…with me?” “Hey, Jen, is that you back there?” Mrs. Rodger's voice called out. “Yes! We’ll be right out in a minute!” Miss Honey called back. “Take your time, I just wanted to let you know She-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named called out again. Said she had another headache, in case you were worried about running into her today.” Both Matilda and Miss Honey sighed in relief. Miss Honey bit her lip before eyeing Matilda. “Just for a minute, okay?” Matilda nodded, before Miss Honey picked her up and set her in her lap. Much better, Matilda thought, resting her head on Jenny’s chest and wrapping her arms around her as she felt herself being slowly rocked back and forth. She smiled as she felt Jenny softly kiss the top of her head and begin to quietly hum. “I love you, mommy.” Matilda whispered. “I love you too, Matilda.”

The first thing that came to her was the sound of an alarm beeping. She could feel pressure around her throat. Massive hands were strangling her. She tried to scoot away, but she couldn’t move. The hands were holding her head in place. Matilda tried to yell, but no sound would come out. Why couldn’t she scream? She couldn’t move, or make a sound. She tried to suck in a lung full of air, but the hands around her throat were restricting air flow! Matilda let out a gasp of air and then another! Her eyes burst open, expecting to see the Trunchbull looming over her, but there was no one there. She could feel her heart pounding as she gasped for breath. The Trunchbull’s hands were around her throat, so then why couldn’t she see her? She tried to swing at the invisible threat, until a figure came into view. “Hey! She’s awake!” Another figure emerged and held her down. No! Someone was helping her now? “Matilda! Matilda! You need to calm down!” A voice said. Calm down? How could she calm down? She was being strangled! She wouldn’t go quietly! “Matilda! Take a deep breath! You’re safe!” That voice! She knew that voice, but why? “What’s going on?” Someone knew and unfamiliar. “She’s woken up, but she’s panicking! She’s going to hurt herself even more!” “Matilda! Stop struggling, you’re going to pull out your I.V.” “What’s 297 times 1,294?” The familiar voice said. Matilda paused for a moment. Why would someone trying to hurt her suddenly start asking math questions? The answer was 384,318 but when she tried to answer, nothing but a painful whistling sound emerged. The question had made her pause just enough for her vision to focus. She took in the room. The Trunchbull wasn’t here, but instead one of the nurses from before and… Mrs. Rodgers? Why was she here? And if no one was strangling her, what was around her neck? Matilda’s hands slowly went up to her throat until they came into contact with something hard and plastic. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, before looking at the nurse and pointed. “A brace. You’ve been involved in a-” The nurse stopped as if unsure how to explain. “Situation.” Matilda wanted to pull it off, it was confining. She felt like an animal that had been put in a cone to keep from licking its stitches. Then a thought came to her. A new surge of panic. Where was Miss Honey? She couldn’t move her head to see to the left or right. Her eyes began to water before silent tears began to fall. Had the Trunchbull gotten her? “What is it? Are you in pain?” the nurse asked. All Matilda could do was make raspy whistling sounds that made her throat burn even more. “On a scale of 1 to 10 how do you rate your pain?” Matilda thought for a moment before holding up five fingers, but it didn’t matter to her right now. She had to think. She cursed herself for not knowing more than a few simple things, but tapped her thumb to her chin and spread out the rest of her fingers. Mrs. Rodgers looked at her blankly, but the nurse seemed to understand. “Your mommy will be back soon. She had to go do something, but I’m sure she will hurry right back once she learns you're awake.” Matilda bit her lip. Was she safe? She sank back into her pillow and stared at the clock. It was 2:45 in the afternoon. Had Matilda been out all day? She was sure it was early in the morning when she had been…. She winced at the memory of hands around her throat. “Let’s get you something for the pain.” She watched the nurse leave before looking up at Mrs. Rodgers. “Sorry, it was me who sent her away. She hadn’t left your side since then, so I sent her home to get some sleep.” Mrs. Rodgers said before scowling. “She’ll never listen to me again once she learns she wasn’t here when you woke up. ” Matilda felt the panic ebb away slightly. The room was silent for some time before Mrs. Rodgers spoke again. “You know, in all the years I’ve known Jennifer, I’ve never known her to express emotion, not happiness, or anger. She’d engage in polite small talk if we bumped into each other in the hall, and that’s it. The woman’s been a complete mystery. All the children adore her, but the adults,” Mrs. Rodgers shrugged. “We’ve never been able to get more than a, ‘Hello, how do you do?’ or ‘Good morning’”. Matilda wondered where she was going with this. Did the other teachers not like Miss Honey? She couldn’t imagine anyone not liking Miss Honey. “So you can imagine my surprise one day when I run into her in the hall. She’s got her arms full of books and the biggest smile on her face i’d ever seen. I had to do a double take, was that really shy and reserved Jennifer I was seeing? It was such a peculiar sight, I had to stop and ask her about it. You should have seen the way her eyes lit up as she told me all about this extraordinary new student in her class. She talked so fast I could hardly keep track of what she was saying. It was like she had been dying to tell someone and couldn’t contain her excitement another moment. I was just so stunned she was talking at all. As the weeks went by, the other teachers started commenting on the change in her as well. It was small things at first. They’d ask, ‘What has Miss Honey in such a good mood lately?’ and, ‘Is it just me, or has Miss Honey been more talkative lately?’ I think my favorite was Mr. Trilby stumbling into the teacher’s lounge looking shell shocked with the pinkest ears I’ve ever seen. We asked him what happened, and he mumbled something about Miss Honey saying he looked cute in his new tie.” Matilda smiled at the thought of Mr. Trilby getting flustered over a compliment. “Do you know who noticed the biggest change in her though?” Matilda gave her a puzzled look. “Oh I think you do.” Matilda winced. “Yes, Agatha Trunchbull.” Matilda remembered what the Trunchbull had said to her. “Quiet and fearful Miss Honey told me ‘no’.” “From what I’ve seen and heard from the others, Jennifer had a tendency to, well, I’m trying to find the best way to explain this to you so you can understand. Do you know what ‘dissociate’ means? It’s okay if you don’t, I can’t imagine you would, let me find a simpler word an- Oh.” Mrs Rodgers stopped rambling once she noticed Matilda’s thumb in an upright position. “You know what that word means?” Matilda gave her another thumbs up. “Oh well, right, I shouldn’t be surprised. Jenny really wasn’t exaggerating about you. Let’s see, Jennifer had a habit of dissociating when the Trunchbull went on one of her rampages. She’d just mentally check out as the Trunchbull launched students from windows and picked them up by their ears. It was almost as if she wasn’t seeing it at all.” Mrs. Rodgers said, but then sighed and sat on the edge of Matilda’s bed. “It’s not like the rest of us did much more to stop her, but I never understood how someone who liked the children so much could just stand there and let it happen. Now I understand.” Mrs. Rodger's face paled, and she shook her hands. Matilda had a sinking suspicion that she had learned of Jenny’s past in a similar manner, although she found it very unlikely Miss Honey had shown her what she had written. “So you can imagine the shock to the Trunchbull when the woman who would normally check out began raising a fuss. The thing you need to understand, Matilda, is that this resentment in the Trunchbull has been building for quite some time. She’s been watching her hold over Jennifer slipping bit by bit every day, and it’s causing a chain reaction.” “The other teachers have begun sticking up for their students as well, and you know what my favorite part is?” Mrs Rodgers eyes flashed mischievously. “We’ve all started looking the other way when a certain friend of yours is up to no good. Some have started dropping hints about the Trunchbull’s daily schedule, what she’s afraid of, places in the school she never goes. Even Mr. Trilby has ‘accidentally’ let slip where the spare key to her office was.” Mrs. Rodgers laughed. “The girl thinks she’s being sneaky, but she’s about as subtle as a rhinoceros.” Matilda scowled. All this time she had admired Hortensia for the way she could pick locks and sneak around without getting caught. Now here was Mrs. Rodgers telling her they had been giving Hortensia everything she needed to wreak havoc on a silver platter. Matilda smiled weakly. Despite feeling disillusioned with her hero, she wondered what she could be capable of if she knew the teachers were on her side. “The point I’m trying to make is that Miss Honey has begun to come out of her shell, and Miss Trunchbull has finally realized who is responsible for that.” Matilda furrowed her eyebrows and pointed at herself, a look of doubt in her eyes. “Yes, you. Miss Honey adores all her students, but she very much loves you. I think only love could have given her the courage to stand up to the Trunchbull and put an end to all this.” Matilda gave her a puzzled look. What did she mean by “put an end to this”? Mrs. Rodgers eyes sparkled again. “Matilda, she’s turned over the note to the police. She’s agreed to testify. ” Matilda sat there feeling stunned. Just a few days ago she had been a whimpering, cowering mess at the mere thought of it, and now? Matilda’s heart swelled with pride. She was going to do what every other adult had been too afraid of. Her Jenny-No, her mom, was going to lead the charge to take down the Trunchbull. Matilda couldn’t hide the smile that spread over her face. Hortensia was wrong. Not all the adults were cowards. Miss Honey had literally attacked the Trunchbull with a chair to save her. Matilda would be dead if not for Miss Honey. A thought came to Matilda and she frowned. Why had the Trunchbull tried to kill her? It hadn’t made sense. Why attack her in the middle of the day in a hospital? It would be one thing if they were somewhere secluded and no one knew the Trunchbull had been there with her, but people had seen her here. She couldn’t possibly think she could strangle Matilda and just be able to walk out and no one would stop her. Had Matilda really made her so mad she acted without thinking? Her thoughts were interrupted at the sound of approaching footsteps. Matilda had hoped it would be Miss Honey, but was disappointed to see her nurse pushing a cart inside with different sized basins, washcloths and vials. “It’s time to get you cleaned up.” the nurse said. “I’ve also got some pain medicine for you.” She sat and watched Mrs. Rodgers stand up and stretch. “If you’re going to be with her for a bit, I think I’ll go down to the cafeteria and have a cup of coffee.” Matilda felt a wave of gratitude. She recognized one of the basins and didn’t feel like going through this dance again with an audience. The nurse waited until Mrs. Rodgers had left before rounding on Matilda. “Let's start with your pain first. Are you still at a five?” Matilda held up 6 fingers now. Her throat was even rawer than before. She watched anxiously as the nurse began preparing a syringe, but relaxed when she explained it wasn’t shot. “It’s what the I.V. line is for.” Matilda watched fascinated as the nurse pushed the plunger, and in less than a minute the drug's effect started to take hold. She could feel her eyes glaze over as a sense of relaxation took hold. The room began to gently sway. This wasn’t so bad, Matilda thought. It almost made the I.V. line worth it, but she was suddenly feeling rather warm. There was another sensation as well, but it felt good, so she closed her eyes and let it happen. She didn’t even mind when the nurse told her she needed to take her blood. The problem came halfway through the blood draw when Matilda’s mind began to clear. The flushing had stopped along with the pleasant lightheadedness, and reality came crashing down when she realized she was sitting on something now very wet. She sat in stunned silence until tears began to slide down her face. She couldn’t believe she had just done that. “I’m almost done, see last tube. Just a few more seconds. There, all done, no more needle.” Matilda’s face began to burn. Oh geeze, the nurse thought she was crying because of the blood draw. “It’s all done, you can look up now.” Matilda let out an audible whimper and kept her head down. “Nothing scary left, I promise! All that’s left now is a nice towel bath and to go potty.” Matilda had begun to cry even harder at this. The nurse was confused until understanding dawned on her when she pulled back the blanket. “It’s okay, Matilda, see? You're laying on a disposable pad. I wasn’t expecting it to be dry. I hadn’t changed it since yesterday.” Matilda looked down now feeling even more confused. Was it wet before, and she had only now just noticed it? Or had she peed herself while high? “Or are you so upset because you were awake when it happened?” She didn’t know! “Did it happen when I gave you the pain medicine?” Matilda slowly raised her thumb. “Nothing to get worked up over then. It’s a possible side effect, I’ll just give you something else next time.” Matilda blinked in surprise. She hadn’t thought of that. “Let me get this dirty one out from under you.” She turned Matilda onto her side, and replaced the pad with a fresh one. “There, see, no problem. Just let us know if you ever need a clean one. We don’t want you sitting on a yucky one all day.” When she turned Matilda back over, she found herself laying on top of hard plastic. “You still need to try going potty though.” Matilda sighed, resigned to her fate. At least no one was here for this part. After a demeaning amount of praise for emptying her bowels, she was very slowly wiped down with wet towels as she tried not to irritate the cuts and stitches all over her, and then finally helped into a clean hospital gown. Matilda tried to be polite and say thanks, but all that came out again was an unintelligible rasp. “Try not to talk. The doctor wants you to rest your throat. Your vocal cords have been injured, and they need rest.” Matilda wrapped her hands around the brace and imitated getting choked. The nurse nodded her head sadly. “Your mom was hoping you wouldn’t remember.” Matilda mimicked writing. “Oh, yes, I’ll get you some paper and a pen.” She left and quickly returned with a notepad and pen. How long have I been unconscious? The nurse seemed suddenly taken aback. Her eyes went wide, and it seemed to take her a minute to compose herself. “Oh my, Matilda, you have such neat writing, and wow, unconscious, that’s a big word you know how to write.” She stared at the sentence for a moment, before snapping back to attention. “You’ve been in and out of it for two days.” What happened to the Trunchbull? Matilda could see the nurse shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot, but she didn’t drop her gaze. “You know, let’s wait for your mom to come back, and she can answer any questions you have.” Matilda scowled, she knew that meant bad news. She picked up the pen and continued writing. Why does my throat hurt so much? “You had a small procedure yesterday, the Dr. went down your throat with a camera to make sure everything looked all right.” An endoscopy? The nurse stared blankly, now at a loss for words. Matilda let out a silent exasperated sigh. If she wanted answers faster, she was really going to have to dumb herself down. Under normal circumstances, she would have found her reaction slightly amusing, but right now she felt impatient and in a slightly bad mood. She figured it came with being made to poop in a tray. “Yes, that’s right.” The nurse mumbled, “Did your moms friend tell you?” No, I just like to read. Did they find anything wrong? “That’s amazing, Matilda, you know most kids your age struggle to-” The nurse stopped as Matilda tapped her question with her pen impatiently. She really was in a bad mood. She didn’t want to be told she was amazing, she felt far from it. Matilda wanted answers, and mostly, she really just wanted Miss Honey. Sorry Matilda hurriedly scribbled. I don’t mean to be so petulant. “There was some contu- sorry bruising in the windpipe, and the muscles of your neck, but it’s nothing time won’t heal on its own. You’ll just be sore for a bit.” Matilda sat there and tried to process all the information she had learned today. So the Trunchbull was angry at Miss Honey’s weak protests to stop hurting them? If Matilda hadn’t known Miss Honey so well, she would hardly call, “Miss Trunchbull, please don’t throw children out the window,” sticking up for them or making a fuss. She supposed it was more than the other teachers had done, and if she was being realistic, given Miss Honey’s past, it took serious courage for her to even do that much. If that had upset the Trunchbull so much, she wondered how angry she was after getting hit in the head with a chair. “This might help you get more comfortable.” She heard Velcroed straps loosening around her, followed by the wonderful freeing sensation as the brace was removed from her neck. She nodded her thanks and closed her eyes. It was nearly 6 pm when Matilda awoke to the sound of hurried footsteps coming into her room. She found herself clenching the bed rail in one hand and the call button, which thankfully now worked, in the other in anticipation. Her heart began to hammer in her chest, until a wide-eyed and out of breath face poked its head around the curtain. A large relieved grin spread across Matilda’s face. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here.” Miss Honey panted. “I can’t believe I slept through the call. I woke up to a message on the answering machine and hurried over as fast as I could.” Miss Honey managed to lower one of the guard rails of the bed and sat down next to her. Before she could object, Matilda had immediately scooted herself into Miss Honey’s lap and thrown her arms around her. It didn’t seem like Miss Honey was interested in scolding her for moving though. She had just as eagerly wrapped her own arms around Matilda and was now holding her tightly and rocking her back and forth. “Oh, I’m so relieved you’re alright.” Miss Honey whispered before kissing Matilda’s forehead. Matilda had so many questions, but right now they didn’t seem so important anymore. She knew this is what she wanted and needed more than anything. She rested her head on Jenny’s chest and listened to her hum. To Matilda at this moment, there was no sweeter or more beautiful music in the world. Once they had reluctantly separated, Matilda began to scribble down question after question. “One at a time, dear.” Miss Honey said. Matilda pointed to the most significant one. Where was the Trunchbull? Miss Honey sighed. “Probably at home having supper.” Matilda blanched. No! Why? Why wasn’t she in jail where she belonged? Miss Honey could read the anger on her face. “I know, it’s not fair. The police say there’s nothing they can do right now, there were no witnesses.” Matilda was outraged! She pointed at herself, then at Jenny. She was there! “I know, but the Trunchbull’s turned it around on me. She says she walked in on me choking you, and I hit her with a chair to keep her quiet.” That’s absurd! What about the security guards? “They only saw me attacking her with a chair, but don’t you worry. The police don’t buy her story for a minute, even the part about me being an unfit mother to you. Mrs. Rodgers was kind enough to come down to the station and give a character witness as well.” Matilda sat there silently seething for a moment, before picking her pen back up and pointing to another question. If she wanted to separate us, why did she attack me? Why not just say you were unfit to begin with? Miss Honey sat there for a moment before speaking. “I’ve been wondering the same, honestly. She’s always been impulsive and angry, but she’s never done something so brazen as this.” She made me read your letter. Did she really do all those things to you? Matilda could see the pain in Jenny’s face as her eyes began to tear up. “You were never supposed to read that. No one was. But yes,” Miss Honey said after a long pause, “It was true. My childhood was not a happy one.” Matilda had remembered her saying that before, but now that she knew just to what extent, her heart ached for her. Forget Matilda’s parents never paying attention to her, it was nothing in comparison. “I’ve decided though. Enough is enough! Someone has to be the first to come forward, so it might as well be me.” Why now? What changed? You were so against the idea before. Miss Honey smiled sadly before wrapping her arms around Matilda and whispered in her ear. “Because no one hurts my baby.”

Diapers will always be part of me cause I can never leave them