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Chapter 25: Work... Regression Echo – LittleFallenPrincess “ELLIE! HELLOOOO? ELLIE, WAKE UP!” The blurry haze in front of me cleared up as I quickly realised I had fallen asleep at work... again. “ELLIE!” “FUCK THIS.” I screamed. I looked around to see the loop had continued. It was now today… again. It had looped, I just wasn’t regressed enough to cause it to loop earlier. Not until… I pissed her off. Which implies there’s a level of regression before it will trigger a loop. …Interesting… I turned around, expecting to see my boss with the biggest scowl on his face… and I wasn’t disappointed. Well no, I was, I still had to look at his ugly mug, but hey, at least I knew what was going to happen. The loop has started over, yet again. “Ellie! What the hell is wrong with you?” David was ready to yell. I… couldn’t save Danny. She didn’t want saving. Hailey was a two-faced bitch. David is a pathetic arsehole. And no matter what… I get fucking regressed. ‘Fuck it.’ I dropped my shoulders. I was done with this shit. If I quit, I get regressed. If I stay, I get regressed. If I go with Danny, oh guess what… I get regressed. If I try to wait it out… I get regressed. And every time I’m reset back to this exact point on this stupid fucking day. I can’t trust anyone. I can’t do anything. No matter what… I’m doomed. Is that what this loop wants from me? To wear me down so I give in and just get adopted and lose my whole adult life? It clearly didn’t want me to save Danny. And I can’t outrun the day… So it must be here to torture me. Maybe I’m in hell and this is a hell loop? Maybe the first regression took and this is my brain’s way of saving itself? Who the fuck knows? “ELLIE? Oh fuck it, I can’t be bothered with your shit today…” David quickly walked off into his office in a huff, and I turned around to see Julie, right on time. “You okay hun?” Asked Julie, right on time. “Oh, me? Yeah. Just... having an existential crisis.” I said, smiling awkwardly at her. “That doesn’t sound like you’re okay…” “What does it matter?” I shrugged my shoulders. “What do you mean?” “I mean no matter what, I’ll be regressed. So fuck it. If I’m going to be regressed and end up back at the start of today… I may as well have some fun with it…” “Fun with what? Elise, you’re not making any sense.” She replied. “With today. I’m… just going to do whatever the hell I want. There are no consequences. So therefore I can do whatever I want and it’ll all just reset again tomorrow… today… whatever.” “Elise… you’re scaring me.” “Good. Or not good. I don’t care! I’m sick of everything. Every Amazon just wants to put me in fucking nappies. So fuck you all.” “E… even me?” “I… suppose you’re alright… you can stay…” I looked up awkwardly at Julie’s kind… loving face… “Well that makes me happy at least… though I am worried about you…” “Don’t be! It’ll all just end and repeat again tomorrow. I mean today. I mean… AHH fuck it!” Julie looked at me awkwardly and got back to work. I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my day off… loop off… whatever. Maybe I quit? Maybe I stay and see what shit I can cause here? Maybe a bit of both? So I got back to work. May as well have some fun here, then maybe go see what I can do later. “Oh hey, here’s another little... don’t see many of them lately...” Julie nudged me, right on cue. The little leant up on their tippy toes and looked at the menu. “I’ll have...” ------------------------------------------------- After an hour of serving drinks, after the initial morning crowd had dissipated after lunch, the shop was mostly empty. So Julie and I usually used this time to wind down a bit and get a bit of cleaning done around the counters and to restock everything. Julie was cleaning the counters off by the side as I was organising the cups near the counter. Just like the other loops. Because whilst my brain said ‘fuck it, do whatever you want’... I couldn’t help but hold myself back from causing too much trouble. At least not yet. I wasn’t used to acting out, so it may take me a bit of time to let myself go. The most I did during this time was not wipe the tables down as well as I normally do. Because woo, I’m such a rebel… “Hey baby girl...” I heard from behind me. Right on cue. ‘Fuck… it’s Hailey…’ “Hailey, kindly go fuck yourself.” I snapped at her as I turned around to face her. ‘My language really has gotten bad this loop, hasn’t it?’ I thought to myself as I saw the shock on Hailey’s face manifest. “I… umm… what? Why?” She looked offended and hurt. Good. “You’re not welcome here. Please go.” I replied. “Umm… Elise, are you okay? It’s Hailey…” Julie said, rushing over to see what was the matter. “Yeah Elise, it’s me… what did I do?” Hailey asked, looking genuinely upset. “You can take your ‘baby girl’ and your nursery you’ve set up for me at home…” Hailey’s face dropped. “...And you can shove it up your arse. You will never ever again get to call me your friend, you backstabbing bitch. I trusted you, and yet you set up a nursery designed just for me…” “How did…” She was just about to ask how I knew that, so I quickly cut her off. “Don’t change the subject. It doesn’t matter how I know. All that matters is that you were planning on adopting me eventually, as soon as I messed up for the last time here.” “Hailey… is this true?” Julie’s demeanour suddenly changed as she turned on Hailey, pushing me behind her, standing in between Hailey and I. “I…” Hailey just stood there, not sure as to what to say. “Get out. Now. You’re banned.” Julie pointed at the door with the most pissed off face I’d ever seen on her. Well… ever since the last loop. “I…” “NOW!” She roared. Hailey didn’t hesitate, she knew she wasn’t welcome now. She had somehow been found out and was too nervous to say or try anything, so she wiped away the tear forming in the corner of her eye and ran out of the shop. Julie turned around and knelt down so she was more at my height, holding my shoulders with her arms as she smiled at me. “I can’t believe… how did you know she had planned that for you?” She asked. “I… I’ve known for a few days now.” I mean technically I wasn’t wrong, I did find out a few days ago. If you count the same day multiple times. “I’m so sorry. To have your best friend turn on you like that. It must be horrible. But I hope you know, I wouldn’t do that. I’ll keep you safe hun. Tell me if she ever comes back into the shop.” “Thanks Julie. I really appreciate that.” I replied, smiling. ------------------------------------------------- It was getting towards the end of the afternoon, getting closer to the end of my shift, and I still hadn’t acted out other than switching the signs on the muffins so that the blueberry sign was on the raspberry ones and vice versa. I’m such an anarchist… It was then that Julie nudged me. “Oh, she’s here again… I’ll be in the stockroom. Have fun!” She said before rushing off. I heard the familiar clacks of someone’s heels walking along the tiled floor. Here she was… Alicia…right on time. The loop was going ahead like normal. I needed to make a big change… really act out… fight the loop and do whatever I wanted with there being no consequences… I looked up to see the raven-haired beauty that graced us every day at the same time for the past month. Her gorgeous smile, her shapely figure in that black dress she wore once a week, the one that showed off her shoulders and arms beautifully... “Hey gorgeous.” Her words felt like silk as they flowed through me, sending shivers down my whole body. Every time, without fail… how did she have this power over me? “H... hi... hi again... Alicia.” I replied. “Can I get my usual, cutie?” She asked, just like last time. “Of... of course!” I looked to the side to see her usual pastry and coffee waiting for her. Julie had done it again. I grabbed them and slid them over to Alicia. “Oh wow, that was quick!” She said, smiling. “WOULD YOU LIKE TO GRAB A DRINK SOMETIME?” I burst out, causing the whole shop to come to a standstill. “I… umm… sure… I’d love to… here, here’s my number” She winked at me, making my whole body shiver, then she wrote down something on a napkin before sliding it over to me. “Call me. It was nice meeting you, Elise…” ‘Wait… how did she… is she in on the loop? Did she… did she remember from last time?’ Before I could ask, she had left me the money, along with a tip before grabbing her coffee and pastry and walking out, her hips swaying in the long, black dress that I desperately wanted to tear off her. As I watched her hips sway out of the door, my attention was diverted as she opened the door for an Amazon woman pushing a stroller. “Here we go again…” I said to myself. “Actually… no. Fuck this. Fuck everything.” Before Danny or Catherine could see me, I rushed off to the back, heading directly for David’s office. ‘I’m not going through all that again. Fuck that. Not today. This is my loop off.’ “You okay?” Julie asked as I stormed past her in the hall. “I’m fine. I quit.” I replied. “You quit? But… What about money? What are you going to do for a job?” She asked. “I don’t care. I’m taking this loop off. I’m done with this shit and I’m not seeing my best-fucking-friend in her regressed, happy little fucking state with her fucking perfect Mummy and… and…” “Hun… what’s up?” She asked softly. “I… no. Fuck it. I quit.” Before she could say anything, I burst into David’s office, took my apron off and slammed it on the chair in front of his desk. I would have slammed it on his desk, but it would’ve looked ridiculous as I can barely reach the top of his desk. “What’s this?” he asked, looking down at me. Both figuratively and literally. I looked up at him with determination. “I quit.” “You can’t.” He responded, sounding almost… worried. Probably worried that if I leave, he won’t be able to adopt me as easily. “I can and I am. Fuck you. Fuck your third strike. Fuck this whole place. And if you try to take me… I’ll tell management that you’ve been spiking drinks.” “But… b… you wouldn’t!” He suddenly backed down. “Thought so. So kindly go fuck yourself. I’ll see you tomorrow when it loops again.” “Huh?” I left before he could respond, storming off out of his office and past Julie towards the back exit. “I… umm… give me a call?” Julie shouted back to me as I left the shop for what is probably not the last time. Walking down the street, not knowing exactly where I was going to go with the rest of this loop, I quickly found myself stuck in my own head. “Hailey stabs me in the back. That was bad enough, she broke my heart and I don’t know if I can trust anyone now… but then everything with Danny too?” I said to myself as I walked in the direction of my apartment. Every time I passed an Amazon, they gave me weird looks as they walked past, no doubt wondering why a little was walking alone, mumbling to themselves. “Hailey saved me. She got me through University, and then she goes and builds a nursery made just for me? Betraying me like that… She knows how I feel about being adopted… how scared I am of it. But then Danny… She was… happy? What the fuck… How the fuck can she be happy being fucking adopted? She’s nothing more than a stupid little baby! She’ll never get married, have a job, kids, relationships…” I lingered off on that last point, “She… shouldn’t be fucking happy! And I shouldn’t be so fucking… Oh I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m feeling right now. It’s like I’m almost… jealous? Six loops so far, each ending with me being regressed. At least Catherine and Tom seem to actually care for her… actually want to make her happy… They are reversing the damage, not taking advantage of it.” Everything was too much. My thoughts and feelings were all over the place. I couldn’t make sense of any of them and I hated myself for some of them. And what’s worse was that I couldn’t even figure out what the hell is causing this time loop or why or how to stop it. Using this anger and frustration from not only the loop, from being betrayed, from Danny… but also myself, I lashed out and grabbed the nearest thing I could. Picking up a small rock, I blindly hurled it in frustration, hoping to release some of that anger out so I didn’t do anything stupid. Problem was… that rock was the stupid thing. And as that rock impacted with the glass window of a nearby police car… I instantly regretted my actions. ========================================================== Uh oh... ? I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next 4 chapters of Regression Echo and the next 2 chapters of Infernum Infantem 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 Regression Echo and Infernum Infantem. New chapters of Regression Echo every Wednesday/Sunday! New chapter of Infernum Infantem every Friday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

And whoever is storing meat in the toilet, PLEASE STOP!

You don’t have to explain anything to anyone and I wouldn’t go back to the routine set in place. Learn to keep a diaper bag in the car spares in the office (concealed) wipes and rash cream probably wouldn’t hurt to have around either. You have to remember that you’re diaper dependent now you could retrain yourself but there are never guarantees thoo…. They make great diapers for long term wear but i still recommend a diaper bag of some sort for emergencies. Diapers are great life savers and if you beed resources on some good diapers message me ive found some good ones that will make it so im not changing as frequently

Brook's Decision Sean had yet to ask her his big question again, not since the first night he’d kidnapped them, but the proposal still loomed heavy between them, especially when they were alone together. Really, what would being married to Sean change for her? She was his prisoner regardless, and his unwilling co-conspirator in keeping her friends captive as well. Either way, she shared his bed every night, bound and gagged while he had his way with her. Maybe being his bride would grant her more freedom, but she doubted it. Even if her physical restraints were loosened, they were largely for his enjoyment at this point. There was no escape. She could feel the question coming again though, a ticking time bomb looming ever on the horizon. He wanted her to say yes, but only when she wanted to be his wife. Part of her feared his wrath when he realized she would never want that. Another part of her dreaded that he might be right, that he could break her to a point where she did in fact desire the life he offered her. Sara’s coughing, spluttering gasp as she sucked in air brought Brook back into the present. The helpless girl in her lap had drained her bottle, and was looking desperately up at her caretaker for help. “I’m sorry, baby girl,” Brook said, pulling the bottle out of her mouth and swiftly replaced it with Sara’s pacifier gag before the girl could attempt to speak. Brook was doing her a favor, knowing full well Sean would punish Sara again if she tried to use adult words. Maybe Sara had learned from the last time she’d spent an hour in the punishment corner with a bar of soap clenched between her teeth, with the promise that if she dropped it Sean would spank her again, this time without her diaper to protect her bruised bottom from his belt. If Brook still saw her as an adult, she might have trusted Sara to keep herself out of trouble, but a week of seeing her a helpless baby that couldn’t help but fill her diapers made Brook start to see her as a little girl that needed to be looked after and taken care of. Sara’s lips tightened around the oversized pacifier, staring up at Brook’s tits. Brook had at first believed that Sean’s threats that Sara would soon be drinking her mommy’s milk instead of her formula had been a joke, a sick twisted one, but not something that he had every intention of making happen. Now, with the noticeable growth of her boobs, the uncomfortable fullness, the extra sensitivity of her nipples, it seemed crazy that there had been a time when she didn’t think Sean would play with her hormones and alter her very physiology. The only question now was when she’d start lactating, and she’d be feeding Sara from her tits instead of a bottle every day. “It’s bed time,” Brook said. She reached down, checking Sara’s diaper. A quick crotch squeeze revealed Sara was wet. Brook had changed her recently, and she considered just putting her to bed and sparing her yet another intimate diaper change. “Let’s go.” Brook got up and started pulling Sara up so she could pick up the smaller girl and get her into her crib. “Mmmmph!” Sara moaned, pressing her mittened hands against the swollen crotch of her diaper. She was an adult, Brook reminded herself. She could ask her if she wanted a diaper change or not. It wasn’t much, but it was a small token of freedom she could give her fellow captive. “Do you want me to change you?” she asked. “Mmmhhmmmm,” Sara moaned, her cheeks blushing to closely match the pink of the strap holding her pacifier firmly in her mouth. “Of course.” She took for granted the small privilege of being allowed to use the bathroom. It had to be awful, squatting outside in the grass outside like Kelsey, or worse, having to just sit in a wet or messy diaper like Sara. At least Sean relegated the responsibility of changing her to Brook. She could only imagine how much worse it would be for her lesbian friend, if their male captor had to touch her, to wipe her, to clean her. Brook and Sara avoided eye contact as Brook changed her diaper, making sure she was very thorough. The last thing either of them needed was Sean to give her another lesson on how to change Sara’s diaper. The memory of him over her shoulder, holding her wrists, making her rub and rub and rub her friend’s clit, until finally Sara had cum on her hands, still haunted her. “Don’t stop,” he repeated in her ear while she cried. “She’s our baby girl, and we have to take good care of her.” Sara squirmed and moaned under her touch, and Brook quickly stopped, satisfied she’d been at it long enough if he was watching her on the cameras. All business, she shook powder over Sara’s smooth pussy and pulled the fresh diaper up between her legs and taped it in place. “Better?” she asked, meeting Sara’s eyes again. Sara nodded, holding her arms up. Brook pulled her up, the smaller girl wrapping her mittened hands around her neck and holding on while Brook picked her up. Brook could’ve sworn Sara was getting heavier. It wasn’t all that surprising; a large part of her diet was fatty formula laced with only god and Sean knew what, and Sara wasn’t afforded even close to the level of exercise Brook and Kelsey got. She wasn’t fat, by any means, yet, but her once flat stomach had started to hang over her diapers just a little bit. Brook wasn’t the only one their captor was physically altering. “There you go.” Brook laid Sara down in her crib. The girl offered up her limbs freely to be strapped into the corners of her babyish prison for the night. As depressing as it was to see her so submissive to her nightly routine, it was a lot better than the nights Brook had had to fight her to get her restrained for bed. “Good girl,” she said, adopting Sean’s condescending praise for his slaves. She heard it the second the words were out of her mouth, but there was no taking them back. She gave Sara a pitying smile and pulled her blanket up over her, and put her teddy bear next to her. “Goodnight, Sara,” she whispered, kissing her on the forehead. “Aaahhh uuvvvvv ooooh,” Sara garbled behind her pacifier. Brook hoped she hadn’t been trying to say what it sounded like. Sean told her he loved her, but he hadn’t required her to say it to him back, or either of her charges. “Sleep tight,” she said, walking away from Sara. Back to him. She left the nursery, padding slowly down the hall to their bedroom. She took her time, but there was only so much delaying the inevitable she could get away with. “Hello, dear.” He was already in bed, sitting up against the headboard, a book in his lap, the iPad he was probably watching in on them sitting next to him on the nightstand. “Hello Sean. May I get ready for bed?” He eyed her up and down. She was already dressed for bed in her semi translucent black negligee, though she likely wouldn’t get to keep her tight black panties for long. “What’s the rush?” “I’m a little tired,” she said, her mind already racing for an acceptable excuse for why she might be tired. “And you look comfortable,” she added. Sean threw back the sheets. He was just wearing his black silk briefs. “I am, but not too comfortable to have a little fun with you, my… dear.” “Alright.” She stepped towards the bed. There was no use arguing. He patted the bed next to him. “You know, I wish I could call you something else.” Her eyes flicked to the dresser, where she knew the small black box holding the engagement ring he wanted to give her was waiting. The one he wanted her to want. “You can call me anything you want.” His eyes lit up. “Is that so?” His slave. His prisoner. His slut. Any of those sounded preferable in her head to what he wanted. “I’m yours,” she said, climbing onto the bed, crawling towards his dick. Maybe she could doge the question. He grabbed her by the chin, lifting her face to look up at him. “Don’t play coy with me.” His tone was playful, but she knew all too well that could change in a heartbeat. Her breathing quickened. Again her eyes betrayed her, flicking to the dresser drawer. “Are you asking?” “Are you ready?” It was a trick question. Answer honestly, risk his wrath. Lie to him, and it might be worse. “Brook?” Silence was not an option either. “Why me?” He seemed taken aback by the question, letting go of her chin and leaning back against the headboard. She wondered it a lot. Why her? What had she done to deserve this? Was it the simple act of being nice to a guy she met online, largely out of pity because she thought his wife had died? Had he been targeting her long before that, and matching up with him on a dating app had been carefully orchestrated by a stalker? “Why do you want to marry me?” “Oh Brook. You don’t even see how special you are,” he said, cupping her cheek in his hands again, tenderly stroking down the side of her face with his thumb. “I’m not special,” she choked, fighting back tears. “I don’t deserve you.” “Do you honestly believe that?” A single tear spilled from her eyelid, and he wiped it away with his thumb. “I do.” “Alright.” He let go of her face, and got up from the bed, leaving her on all fours on the mattress by herself. She stayed, frozen in place, unsure what would come next. “Maybe I was wrong.” Brook gulped. Her heart was jackhammering in her chest. Sean was not the type to admit he was wrong. “I suppose it could have been anyone,” he mused, pacing around the perimeter of the bed. “I could have chosen anyone to be my wife, any girl at random.” As much as Brook wouldn’t wish her fate on anyone, she felt herself nodding along, the idea that some stranger could be in her place was so appealing. “Is that what you think, Brook?” “Ye— yes!” she blurted. “Fine. So be it.” Sean grabbed her by the hair. Brook screamed as she was bodily pulled off the bed, scrambling to get her legs under her as he started dragging her out of the bedroom. “Wait! Stop! I’m sorry!!!” “No. You’re not,” he said coldly, pulling her down the hall, towards the nursery. “But that doesn’t matter. If I was wrong about wanting you for my wife, I’ll just try someone else.” He burst into the nursery, dragging her with him. Sara was awake, looking up at them from between the bars of her crib, moaning into her pacifier gag. “No! You can’t!” “If you don’t want to be my wife, that’s fine. You can be the baby, and maybe Sara here will want to be my wife.” “MMMMPPHH!!!” Sara screamed, her crib rattling as she struggled. “No!! Wait! I’ll marry you!!! Please!!!” “Too late.” He threw her up on the changing table. He didn’t even bother strapping her down, holding her down easily while he tore off her flimsy negligee. “Please!! I’m sorry!!! You were rigmmmph!!!” she kept pleading until he stuffed her panties in her mouth. “You’re gonna love your new life, baby girl. You can just sit in your crib, pissing your diapers, while your mommy and I live our happily wedded life. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” Brook threw her head side to side as she was manhandled into one of Sara’s diapers. She couldn’t differentiate between her own muted screams and Sara’s terrified wailing as the smaller girl watched her assume Sara’s fate of the last week, knowing something much, much worse was in store for her. Brook’s hands tried with no success to push him away as the humiliating garment was pulled up between her legs and taped on tightly, only earning herself a pair of mittens just like Sara’s locked over her fists. “You’re going to be such a good, helpless baby for mommy and daddy, aren’t you?” he flipped her over on her stomach, delivering three hard smacks to her diapered bottom before grabbing her arms and yanking them behind her back. A handy roll of duct tape made short work of binding her wrists behind her back. He grabbed her hair again, yanking her head back. “If this doesn’t work out, I guess you can all switch again. You’d make a cute dog too. After all, it’s not like it matters, right?” he asked, pulling the tape between her stuffed lips, wrapping the sticky stuff tightly around her head. “You’re not special, and I had no reason to possibly want to marry you out of all the others, so it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” “Mmmmph!!!” Brook cried into her strict gag. He yanked her back to her feet and marched her over to the crib. Sean dropped the side and threw her in on top of Sara, the two diapered girls finding themselves suddenly pressed together face to face. They shared a brief look of panic and mutual pity while Brook’s legs were pulled back, her heels pressed into her thick diaper as she was brutally hogtied, Sean wrapping the tape from her mouth to her ankles, keeping her head wrenched back, before she was shoved to the side, and Sean unstrapped Sara. Brook could only watch, helplessly hogtied, diapered and panty gagged, while her friend was dragged out of the crib, and the rails slid back up into place. The petite lesbian wailed into her pacifier as her diaper was ripped off, their captor hurling it to the side. “You won’t be needing that anymore,” he told the struggling girl. “Don’t worry, until the muscle relaxers and laxatives wear off, I’ve got a nice big butt plug for you.” He slapped her ass, making her scream. The crib that Brook had thought was the girl’s prison was actually a fence, the humiliating diapers she wore had been a barrier between her and the monster that held them captive. Brook couldn’t appreciate her new position, safe behind the bars, her pussy protected from his penis by a thick layer of padding. She could only think of Sara, and what was about to happen to her, all because of Brook’s choices. “Sleep tight, baby girl,” Sean said to Brook. “Let’s go, dear.” He threw Sara over his shoulder and carried her off, off to the bedroom. To his bed. He left the nursery door open, most definitely on purpose, so she could hear them. All night, while she struggled to no avail, she listened to them, to the things he was doing to her. Brook knew all too well what happened in his bedroom. She remembered being tied to his bed, spread and helpless while he had his way with her. But it was Sara now. The sting of her failure was magnified by the maternal feeling Sean had hammered into her for Sara. She was her baby girl, and she was supposed to protect her. Brook screamed into her gag, thrashing against the tape hogtying her, but she was the helpless baby now. For hours she fought, all the while listening to what he was doing to Sara. Brook didn’t sleep a wink, and judging from the racket coming from the bedroom, neither did Sean and Sara. When it finally went quiet, Brook slumped against her bonds, exhausted. Her diaper was soaked, her joints aching from the stringent hogtie, her jaw sore from the brutal gag. Heavy footsteps came from the hall. Sara entered the nursery ass first, her limp form slung under Sean’s arm. He dropped her on the plush carpet of the nursery, the girl crumpling into a limp puddle at his feet. Brook couldn’t even look at her, her eyes riveted on Sean. “Did you have a good night?” “Nnnn nnnn,” Brook moaned, shaking her head as best as she could. He dropped the rails of the crib. “I’m going to give you one more chance,” he said, unwinding her cruel gag. Brook groaned as she was allowed to bend her neck forward. He plucked the sodden panties from her mouth. “Yes,” she moaned. “Yes what?” “Yes, I want to marry you.” “I know,” he said, matter-of-factly as he untaped her wrists and pulled the mittens off of her hands. “You were right.” “I know.” “I am special.” “Yes, you are. Now get the baby back in her diapers and put her down for a nap, and then take the dog out. I’m going to take a shower.” “Yes, sir.” Satisfied, Sean turned and walked out. Brook climbed out of the crib on shaky legs and stood over Sara. Her friend turned her head to look up at her; her eyes were bleary and she had a ring gag strapped between her teeth, and there was telltale white fluid dripping down her chin. “I’m so sorry. That’s never going to happen again.” Brook tried to pick her up, but she was too weak, and unlike normal, Sara made no effort to help. Brook slid down onto the floor next to her and settled for just pulling her close. “I won’t let anything like that ever happen to you again, I promise.” Sara nodded, even though they both knew full well that wasn’t a promise Brook had any power to keep. At that moment, Sara just needed comforting, and Brook pulled her head close to her aching breasts. Maybe it was spending all night struggling in her hogtie with her boobs squashed beneath her, but they were especially tender. Perhaps her milk was starting to come in. Either way, it was a good time to find out, she decided as she unclasped her baby girl’s ring gag and guided her mouth to her nipple. “I’m going to take care of you. Mommy’s got you.”

Ya’ll just hafta live with the typos in this one ? cuz I hafta go do a thing after writing this Scene #192 Tinga-linga-ling … Tinga-linga-ling … Tinga-linga-ling. Based on the latest intelligence reports, nothing in our house makes that sound. Tinga-linga-ling … Tinga-linga-ling … Tinga-linga-ling. Off I went to investigate. Suzy’s collar has a little bell, but it’s not such a clean ring. Even if it were, unless she learned how to ring it - which is possible cuz she’s the best dog ever and stuff - it couldn’t be her. “Rrrr rufff bark!” Tinga-linga-ling. Or maybe it is. Do you put sounds a dog makes in quotation marks? Tinga-linga-linga-linga-linga-linga-linga-linga Wow. This is getting aggressive. You know who’s aggressive? Dominants. Especially the one I live with. She’s a predator, a she-panther devouring innocent little forest creatures like myself, completely feral. And she has a bell now, apparently. “There you are,” she had the nerve to say to me. Mary is the suavest person ever, but there was nothing suave about her right then: sitting on the couch, bell in her right hand holding it as high as she could while fending off Suzy with her left. Suzy and I were on the exact same page: we wanted that bell, albeit for different reasons. Why did I want it? If you stop interrupting me with questions, I shall tell you: I wanted it because I knew exactly what Mary was going to say. “You’re supposed to come the first time I ring it.” Nope. There was two of us and one of her. Strength in numbers. “You bought a bell … give it!” Which is when I lunged, and Suzy, so wound up and so simpatico with me, lunged too. “No,” Mary said, but she was laughing so it didn’t count. Not that I always listen to her when she tells me no, but I do cuz she’s in charge and I’m perfect, but also I don’t (and yet my perfection remains untainted; maybe I’m miraculous or something?). “Yes!” And I got that bell. Mary I guess wasn’t so committed to her new toy cuz she didn’t pounce on me like I figured she would. She loves pouncing on me; it’s what she-panthers do. “What are you doing with my bell,” she asked. “Fixing it.” As in, unscrewing the handle and thus breaking it down into its three parts. Mary watched, amused and all conflicted cuz I was being so rebellious and stuff, as I opened the back door, called to Suzy, and threw the ringy bit (about one inch long) into the grass. Suzy went after it, I shut the door, and I reassembled the bell (or whatever it is if it doesn’t ring). “You can have it back if Suzy finds it, but if you buy another one, I’m taking away your Amazon account,” I told my dominant. Who I, um, am not intimidated by. And why even bring that up, right? Cuz it’s not like once I said that there was any sudden loss of confidence. Really. Not like Mary rose from the couch grinning like she was so glad I did that cuz it gave her a reason to do stuff to me … and things. “Um,” I started very confidently into a brand new sentence, “did you, uh, need something? … You’re taller today. … Before you do whatever you’re gonna do …” Like full on attack me. That’s what she did. Full on attack me in the form of wrapping both arms around me, sweeping my feet off the floor, and there we were on the carpet: me, the innocent woodland bunny being viciously hugged by a she-panther. Sometimes when I see one of those videos where a carnivore animal is best buds with a prey animal they would normally feed on, I think, ‘O! Our spirit animals!’ “You’re sassy today,” Mary said to me. “I’m not answering to a bell.” “So when I want you I should just call your name?” “That system has worked very well for a long time. I’m very responsive.” My performance reviews back when I was a worker bee always said ‘Daphne is very responsive.’ “Unless you know you’re in trouble. Then suddenly you make yourself scarce.” “That’s not even a thing that’s true! I’m just short; you probably overlooked me.” Impossible, though, what with Mary’s she-panther sense of smell. “Also,” I said cuz I get to say stuff too, “you’re kinda wound up today.” “Cuz it’s gonna be a fun day.” “Why? What are we doing?” “I don’t know yet, but we’re gonna do it together, so it’ll be fun.” “I kinda am all the fun,” I said modestly. Very modest, quite humble. ‘There goes Daphne,’ people say, ‘Who does she think she is coming from such humble origins?’ “No one says that, actually.” “What,” Mary asked. “Huh?” “No one says what, actually?” “O. I was responding to myself in my head.”You try holding three conversations at once. Sometimes you’ll say something meant for one conversation partner and another will hear it, and I don’t see why that’s any more unusual just because two of the person I’m talking to are me. “How many people are in there with you?” “Just me. I’m very chatty.” “I remember when I met you, you had a filter and everything.” “I still have a filter. You don’t even hear ten percent of what goes on in my head. And can I tell you a secret? Most of it’s about you.” “O really,” she said all smiley and stuff. “Yeah, and some of it is even nice.” Mary bit her (which is my job, actually) a sure sign she thinks I’m adorably quirky and stuff. So much stuff, so many things, yada, yada, etcetera etcetera … and so on and so forth. “So about this fun day,” Mary said with a twinkle in her eye, would you rather have fun at home or away from home?” “What if we have fun at home first and then have fun elsewhere later on?” “How very sensible of you. Up,” Mary said and stood up, pulling me after her. “I got you dirty,” she said. She brushed dog hair off the back of my shirt. Mary says I’m not allowed to vacuum the dog, but I think I’m gonna try anyway and see what happens. It just seems much more efficient. “Cuz you’re a big bully who knocked me down.“ “Hmm. Yeah … Be right back.” “I’ll be here, my love.” I call her that cuz she’s mine and I love her. What to do with our day, though. The thing with being childless and me not working is that the weekend isn’t taken up with driving junior humans around or chores. That’s great; however, like, we hafta make up ways to entertain ourselves each and every weekend. We don’t have chores or errands or social engagements, and you can only eat out, go shopping, and go on so many walks. I should use some of my free time to make a calendar of things to do. I guess we could start new hobbies, but me starting new hobbies is really just me buying stuff for the hobby but not, ya know, actually putting in the effort to do it. “Young lady?” And never mind. Apparently the next phase of our weekend has been decided in my absence. Cue Mary striding across the living room as though on a mission. She’d tied her hair up. What o what could that portend, and more importantly, would I like it? “Did you break Mary’s new bell?” Hold my wine; I got this. “No, and if she says I did, call her down here and let her accuse me right in front of you. Touché, Mary! If you thought being in two places at once is impossible try being two different people in the same room at once. I caught her off guard, what with the puzzled expression and the furrowed brow. I fooled her plan! “You’re getting a spanking.” For seven-eighths of a second, I foiled her plan. “But … but I have a right to face my accuser!” “Up.” Hey, I’m getting up for some reason. “Stand in front of me.” “Not until you admit I outsmarted you!” Hey, I’m standing in front of her. Stop doing that! “Just because your sister got a new toy is no reason for you to be jealous, and to break it just out of pique - what has gotten into you today?” “Stop unbuttoning my pants and admit I outsmarted you!” SMACK “OW!” “You do not try to stop me from taking your pants down, little girl.” Did anyone who’s not me notice I went from ‘young lady’ to ‘little girl’? Cuz heccin nope! “I can take ‘em down myself.” Not that I deserved a spanking, but there’s more dignity in taking your own pants down than having someone else take them down. Somehow … Not really. “You are far, far too little to take your pants down for a spanking, Daphne Ann. Now tell me why you broke her toy?” “Not until you stop speaking in the third person.” “Do I need to march you upstairs to get the paddle?” “Because ‘she,’” I said, verbally italicizing the third-person pronoun which nuh-uh even. Only two of us were there - why were we using third-person pronouns?!? “Because she was teasing me with it. I’m not gonna come when someone rings a bell at me.” “Over,” Mary ordered me and didn’t even wait for me. She just pulled me over her knee like she was gonna spank me or something, which is just unheard of in general and in specific too. Really. Hey, she put her leg across my ankles. Almost like she’s gonna do something that makes me kick my feet a bunch? “You come when your name is called. Why is a bell different?” “It just is, and you know it is.” Don’t pretend to me like you don’t know it is. “It is.” “So why am I getting spanked!?!” “Because a little teasing doesn’t excuse breaking someone’s toy. You may be a little girl, but I’ll not allow you to be a bratty little girl.” Heccin hey what?!? Was I bratty? Did she really think I was being bratty? We were laughing a minute ago. But … Brain, my brain said, do not do this. Do not get conflicted. Do not read anything into this. It’s just a scene. But what if I was bratty? What if ruined Mary’s fun? What if I hurt her feelings? You didn’t do any of that. You’re letting buttons be pushed for no good reason. Says you! Enough of you. Seriously. Eat farts! You deserve this spanking. You let your emotions get the better if you and broke her toy, and now you’re letting your emotions get the better of you again. Ha! I do deserve this spanking, and sucks to be you because we share a butt! Sometimes I think we’re a butt that shares a brain and not the other way around. What does that even mean?!? “I’m sorry,” I said to Mary. “I’ll do better (sniffle).” “… Daffy, look at me.” I looked over my shoulder. “Goodness gracious, what’s with the watery eyes? We haven’t even gotten started.” “I’m sorry I broke your toy. I didn’t mean to be a brat.” “You are such a silly goose. I was just teasing.” “Ha! I know you were just teasing and I was teasing back and ha! Ha, Mary! You’re the one who’s a silly goose!” Sometimes, very occasionally, the logical part of my brain wins out. Wow. Did anyone see that blinding white flash besides me? My butt hurts all of a sudden for some reason. Funny how whether the logical part of me or the emotional part of me prevails, my butt pays the price. And I wasn’t really in the mood to submit to a spanking. I decided to make her earn it. “I can tell now (spank spank spank spank spank) that there was no way (spankety spankety smack) there was no way you (wackety smackety spank) we’re getting to bedtime without a hot red bottom.“ “Don’t take my panties down!” “Excuse me, little girl?” “I’m not a little girl!” “So I’m not taking Frozen underoos off you right now?” “Aw, go shush yourself.” How is she so strong? I was legit trying to get away and I made zero forward progress. Lateral progress was good but not intentional, but I’ll take credit for it anyway. She pulled me back to the center of her lap. Hmmph! “Stop (spank) Your (spank). Wriggling!” SPANKSPANKSPANK and so forth. “You can’t spank me bare bottom!” “Olaf didn’t break anyone’s toy. Olaf doesn’t deserve a spanking. Your bare heinie does.” “Marrrryyyyy! It hurts!” “It’s a spanking! It’s supposed to hurt.” O yeah … Dammit … “Eep! Ow! Ow! Owowowowowow! Owie owie owie owie Marrrryyyyy!” What is she even with the started out fun and really toeing the line with the OW!!! DAMMIT! “Are you gonna break people’s toys anymore?” “No! I’ll be good! I’ll be good!“ “Good, because I don’t like having to spank your bottom, but I will if you need your bottom spanked. Sit up.” I only sat up because it was less embarrassing than laying across her lap, not because she told me to. Which is better, somehow. Trust me on it cuz I co clearly make very discerning choices that are always correct. Really. “I mean, missy. You and I are going out, and I won’t hesitate to spank your bottom in public.” Ooo, that’s an invitation. “Where are we going?” “The mall. Maybe we’ll do some Christmas shopping early. Lay back for me.” And just for headspace, while Mary was doing whatever she was doing, I was thinking how a spanking is supposed to ruin your day, but I’m such a well spanked girl that with such a strict woman looking after me that they rarely even ruin the hour. I mean, ours is just a spanking household. Totally normal. “Shoot,” Mary said. “Be right back.” And no, we’re not nudists in our household. It’s just that I spend so much time bare bottom that no one even notices anymore if I’m not wearing any bottoms to cover my bottom. Don’t get me wrong; it’s still super embarrassing having my red bottom on display. I mean, what if one of my friends just came over. Or what if my brother walked in. Or what if the paparazzi found me. I bet I’d get in trouble for that, which would be such a miscarriage of justice, but I’m a good girl. I’d take my spanking on my already red butt with my brother, my friends, and the tabloid media snapping pictures, probably live streaming it. I’d for sure cry just from the humiliation alone, and as much as I’d need the aftercare from my Mary, it would be so embarrassing sitting on her lap being comforted like an emotionally distraught little girl with my butt apple red and my legs wrapped around her and my princess parts almost on display back there and pressed up against Mary while she cooed and shushed and stroked my hair and kissed me temple and told me how sorry she was that I needed another spanking right after the first but that she’d spank me whenever and wherever and in front of whomever because she knows what’s best for me. Alone, thinking those thoughts… “Daffy,” Mary said when she returned from wherever she went, “is it polite to play with your princess parts in the living room?” “Whatever you do, please don’t scold me,” I said very innocently for I am very innocent and didn’t, um, stop my little game cuz sometimes if I play in front of this person named Mary she plays along. Actually, she’s the team captain, now that I think on it. But for the record I’m recording, I am not so innocent that I should be in diapers, which is what she went to get. Shoot. “Gimme your hand … Your other hand.” Dammit. Maybe it was the lust fooling me, but I thought for a moment I might get away with that. And I, um, only needed another moment. Two, at most. And then, Mary, see, she doesn’t exactly make things easy. Whatever do I mean by that? I mean she knew darn well whose finger that was and where it had been and she just put it in her mouth anyway. I just … “Please,” I asked ever since politely. “Sorry, hun.” She opened the package of baby wipes and cleaned off my hand. “Why do I hafta wear a diaper to the mall,” I asked not petulantly but, well, something. (Note to self: work on portmanteaus of ‘horny’ and ‘petulant’). “Because you’re just a little girl.” “Am not.” “Lift your bottom up.” Ugh! She got one of the huge pink ones. It might be my size, but it’s still huge. Goes so high up my back. Concealing them requires grandpa pants hiked up to my underarms, and I don’t own any grandpa pants. Guess it’s an undershirt kinda day. At least I can tuck those in. She spread the diaper under me and I, well, I didn’t open my knees for her. I left my knees open for her cuz they were already, um, ahem. “We’ll get you all cleaned up.” Can you blame a girl for trying if she were to, say as a random example, push her hips upward to meet the baby wipe as if to say, “Look how ready it is.” ‘It’ being the girl, of course, who is me. “I should spank your bottom again for doing that in the living room, but I think you’re already suffering enough.” “Urrrrgh! Hmmph!” Mary and me are so compatible in all the ways except for some, and one of the some is she has an orgasm denial kink and I do not. I do not. You might even say - syllogism of the year coming up - I get off on getting off. (But hey, don’t we all, literally?) “No grumps allowed. Just because your sister got a toy and you got a spanking isn’t a reason to be a grumpy goose.” This she says while being awfully careful about where she does and doesn’t spread the diaper cream. “And while we’re out, I don’t wanna hear one word about this diaper. You really acted like a naughty toddler breaking her toy, and if that’s how you’re going to act, that’s how I’ll treat you, diapers and all. Besides, we have a lot of shopping to get done, and we can’t be running to the potty every few minutes. It’s not your fault that you can’t hold it as long as other girls your age, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be practical about it and put you in diapers when it’s convenient.“ “Marrrrrry.” “Little girl, you are not nearly old enough to be wriggling those hips like that.” “I’m not doing it on purpose.” True story. “So is this diaper a punishment or because you’re doing that thing where you pretend I have accidents?” “Hmmm. The diaper is because of your accidents; that it’s big and pink and barely fits under your jeans is a punishment.” I just had to ask. I gotta stop doing that. “So if you need to potty, don’t even ask. You have permission to use your diaper. I won’t get mad.” “(Sound of me Audi lay rolling my eyes.)” “But you also let that be a reminder to you that when you act like a baby, that’s how you’ll be treated … But understand if you have a true accident, I u derstand you can’t help it. To be totally honest, I don’t really expect you to make it to the potty ever.” “Stop it! You’re only allowed to tease me from one direction at a time.” Smiling like she’s the queen of stuff and things and teasing and stuff. Hmmph! She patted the front of it which I barely even felt (urrrrrrrgh!) and told me, “Go find some pants that fit over your pampers, and I’ll get the diaper bag ready.” “Mary, there’s not way I’ll need a change at the mall. Can we just leave that thing at home?” “As leaky as my little girl, I don’t think you’ll need a change either, but if I have to bare your bottom and spank it again, it would be just plain mean of me to put your piddle pampers back on you.” O geez! “Be downstairs in five minutes. Don’t make me come get you.” “Fine.” “And Daphne?” “MMMM! … Mmmm … huh-ha!” Not that I enjoyed her sticking her tonight so far in my mouth or nothing or her groping me so flagrantly, but, I, uh, did, is the thing. Even knowing that, in addition to liking me and the inside of my mouth and and other parts, she was keeping me aroused cuz it delights her to make me desperate and watch me suffer until she decides the time is right. Anyway, like I was saying, it gets so dull having to make up things to do on Saturdays. We never have any fun. Really.

Yes like that one. I miss having a nursery and being pushed around in a stroller with my diapers on full display for everyone to see. I miss crawling around in just a tee shirt and my diaper no matter who was around and wetting and messing my diaper without a care in the world, having mommy change me no matter where we were. I love my wife/mommy but she is physically handicapped and so I end up taking care of her a lot more often than she takes care of me. I guess I just miss spending more time as a baby than I get to do now.

I challenge that recommendation, I have been wearing diapers 24/7/365 for over 20 years now and I personally recommend wearing a diaper that will do the job you need it to regardless of whether it’s discrete or not. I work as a cook in an active environment and in the early days I tried using discrete diapers and they didn’t work well (granted being a cook I can’t always get to the washroom [even to change] when I need to ) which is why I switched to using more capable diapers as opposed to using more discrete ones. But even more capable diapers aren’t necessarily non discrete, I’ve found that a Megamax with a booster can last me 12 hours and with a onesie over top of it it’s practically invisible.

12. A wave of doubt about his ability to navigate a trip down the stairs led Tim to easily accept Amy’s suggestion that he bump down each step on his rear. Even that method had its perils, so he was happy that Amy stayed close by in front of him to make sure he didn’t fall. Once he was at the bottom the colorful toys on the floor of the playpen seemed to be calling to him and he crawled over to it and moved inside without being told. Only after Amy joined him and closed the gate behind her did a moment of clarity make him question why it seemed so natural to be drawn to the confines of the playpen. His wife sat down cross-legged next to him and picked up a bag, spilling blocks out where he could reach them. They were in a wide variety of colors and each of the eight sides had a picture of an animal, or a number, or a letter. Tim stared at the blocks for several minutes, wondering what he was supposed to do with them. Amy came to the rescue. “Would you like to help me make a tower?” she asked as she placed a red block in his right hand. “Like this.” She cleared a space, placed a blue block in the center, then guided Tim’s hand to it, helping him put it right on top. “Good job, baby!” she gushed. “Let’s see how high we can make it. This time you try.” Tim picked up another red block and for a few seconds was mesmerized by the picture of the bird on one of its sides. Refocusing, he thought to himself that this activity was just plain stupid. Nevertheless, he stacked the block on the top of the other two. Amy praised him again, then put a yellow one on. Tim reached over the grab a green one because he wanted to get a closer look at the turtle. When he placed it on top of Amy’s yellow block, the tower toppled to the ground. “It’s okay, Timmie. It isn’t easy to line them up just right. Let’s try again.” They tried making three more towers, each one falling when Tim tried to put a block on the top. His frustration grew with each failure. He wasn’t a real baby, he was an adult dressed like one, and this shouldn’t be that difficult. After the latest hit the deck, he shoved them all away in a fit of anger. “Now, baby,” Amy told him. “You can’t expect to get it right unless you keep trying. But if you’re going to pout, I think you could spend some time by yourself.” Amy returned all of the blocks to the bag and placed it inside a plastic bin, but left some trucks and an assortment of small plastic toys with spinners, buttons that squeaked, and tiny balls inside. Before she left, she leaned over and wiped Tim’s mouth and chin with a soft cloth then pulled the back of his diaper back and peeked inside. Great, Tim thought, now what am I going to do? I’m certainly not going to fall into her trap of playing with these things. Eventually, though, boredom overtook him. He glanced over at Amy, who seemed engrossed in a book. Maybe I’ll see what I can do with the trucks, he said to himself, but in a grown-up way. He started pushing one around, then another, them made up elaborate scenarios for them that he knew no child would ever imagine. Soon he had them crashing into each other, then racing, then parking in different patterns. He tried to get some of the spinning toys to balance on the backs of the trucks in an Olympic-style competition to see which one could handle more. He lost track of time and forgot Amy was there until he happened to look up and see her smiling at him. He immediately stopped what he was doing in shame, not wanting her to know that he was enjoying himself. “It’s okay, dear, you can go back to playing. It’s almost 5:00 so I need to think about getting you some dinner soon. But first...” Amy stepped into the playpen and knelt down, pushing her hand up against his crotch. “As I thought. You need a fresh diaper, baby. I’ll be right back.” Tim was sure she was fibbing. He was changed just a few hours ago and would have known if he was peeing. Tentatively he reached his hand down where Amy’s had been just a moment before and was shocked to feel how full and warm the diaper was. A little pee had even leaked onto his shorts. His mind was still reeling trying to find a way to blame this on Amy when she returned, changing supplies in hand. “Lay back, baby, we’ll change you right here,” she said. As she pulled off his shorts he heard mutter “oh dear” before hanging them over the top of the playpen. She smiled at him and began humming to herself as she went about her task. As soon as she pulled the diaper open she reflexively leaned back with a “pee-yew” followed by an “goodness, Gina,” whatever that meant. The odor then hit him. The smell of his urine was strong. He couldn’t understand why he hadn’t noticed before. Or maybe he had but he was getting used to it as normal? The thought terrified him. “Okay, Timmie, all done,” Amy said with a sigh of relief. “I think we’ll leave your diaper uncovered for now.” She took the damp shorts and soiled diaper away, put them on the bottom of the stairway, then moved into the kitchen. With nothing better to do, Tim resumed playing with his trucks. He began to appreciate the simplicity of playing. After a career of dealing with the complexities of running a business, where any wrong move could have disastrous consequences, there was a certain pleasure in participating in a task solely for fun. Maybe Amy wasn’t entirely wrong in what motivated her to force him to regress for a short time, but that’s not something he’d admit to her. Still, tomorrow if he was up to it he’d be back in pants. If not, Monday, when Amy would give him the option whether to continue or not. She’d mentioned some conditions but he didn’t remember what they were and wasn’t worried about them. As if just by thinking of her, Amy reappeared, unlatched the gate, and bade him to crawl after her. “Time for din din, baby boy,” she sang. Tim was hungry and was looking forward to eating. It shouldn’t have surprised him that there was a large highchair sitting in his usual spot. Rather than allow himself to get angry, he calmly allowed Amy to assist him in crawling up into it and didn’t resist as she buckled the strap and slid the tray up snug against his chest. Now that he’s committed to his plan to leave infancy behind within the next twenty-four to forty-eight hours, it was less stressful just to go with the flow. That is, until Amy placed a plastic cartoon-animal plate in front of him. He stared at it as she moved behind him to tie a bib and tuck the end behind the edge of the tray. There were three compartments of the plate, each one overflowing with a different color mush. Yellow, green, and what could generously be described as industrial gray. His wife produced a miniature spoon with a handle matching the theme of the plate. She pulled the pacifier out of Tim’s mouth. He had again forgotten it was there. “Let mommy enjoy feeding you your first bites,” she said happily, “then we’ll see if you can finish on your own.” Amy dipped the spoon into the green mixture first and brought it to his lips. Tim thought about refusing but at that moment his stomach growled, overruling any resistance. He reluctantly opened his mouth. “Zoom, zoom, here it comes,” Amy sang. Tim made a face, but in reality it wasn’t that bad. Some sort of mixture of vegetables. Before he could take a breath, the spoon reappeared piled high with the yellow glop. More vegetables but maybe sweetened with a little fruit. Not terrible. A moment later Amy pushed the gray stuff into his mouth. Tim blanched. This one was awful, and he pushed it out with his tongue. Amy was right there with the spoon to scrape his chin and put it right back in. “You need your protein, baby,” she said. So it was some sort of meat, he guessed. He allowed her to feed him a couple more rounds before taking the spoon in his hand. She relented and stepped back to see how he would do. He took his time, entertaining himself by trying to guess which foods were in each compartment. He found the gray one more palatable if he mixed in some of the green or yellow one first. He thought he had done pretty well until Amy took his bib off when he had finished. Somewhere beneath all of the colorful palate of stains was the phrase, “Look mommy I fed myself.” Amy wiped his face and hands off with a wet cloth then used a sponge to clean off the tray. “Hold still for a few minutes while I warm your bottle” she told him. Eventually he was released and crawled after Amy into the living room, where she had him lay across the couch with his head nestled in her lap. He was thirsty and eagerly took the nipple in his mouth, having forgotten how horrible the formula tasted. He drank slowly as Amy stroked his hair and hummed a song, smiling down at him from time to time. Once done, he repeated his burping ritual before being escorted back to the playpen. Amy allowed him to play with the blocks by himself, although his frustration continued when trying to build a tower. She eventually joined him, asking him to identify various animals, and teaching him the numbers, together putting them in a long line in order. He only made one mistake and she said she was very proud. “All right dear, it’s Mommy’s turn to eat,” she said. “Let’s see what cartoons we can find for you.” She turned the television to face the playpen and turned it on. Immediately the bright blue figure of a cartoon dog filled the screen and she left the room. Tim unexpectedly became engrossed in the show, watching one after the other. He’d never realized that writers of children’s shows also made them fun for adults. He was disappointed when Amy turned the tv off, another bottle in her hand. “8:30 baby. Time to get ready for bed. Come after me.” Tim found that his limbs seemed heavy and yawned several times as he made his way upstairs. It must be sleep deprivation from so many long nights, he thought. He struggled to get up on the changing table, once more surprised at the condition of his diaper but grateful to get it off. Amy spread a heavy cream on him then placed a thick booster pad in the diaper before taping it on. Tim could feel the difference as he crawled toward the crib. His legs were spread apart unnaturally wide. Amy joined him in the crib, bringing several picture books with her. As she fed him his bottle she started reading one about a blue cat and a red dog setting off on an adventure together. Somewhere between their finding their dinner in a dumpster behind a Chinese restaurant and meeting up with a gray mouse, Tim started to lose track of the story. Moments later, bottle drained, all went dark. Five minutes more and a soft, barely perceptible music began to play.

James listens as Kayla pleas for him to let go of her hand he could tell she was desperate for no one to see. Deciding that earning her trust was important at this stag. “Ok I’ll give you a chance to prove you can be a good little girl. Don’t make me regret it” he says letting go of her hand as they reach the gym hall. ”now run along and have fun, I’ll be sitting in the stands watching.” He says as he gives her padded bottom a pat loving the crinkling sound as he does.

Skylar, Georgina and Lucy talked about work, about the new boss and regular boring adult stuff witch did not interest Kayla at all now, so she just focused on thinking about Maggie, thinking about what's going to happen going forward with herself. But slowly she left all that trouble behind and focused on the cartoon even smiling and humming the theme song of it which all three adult women heard before seeing a smiling Kayla laying on her tummy and kicking her feet and watching classic Care Bears looking like she was getting really getting into the old show.

Thank you for the warm welcoming it means a lot to me! and I hope to enjoy my time here too and a highchair and bottle would be nice XP

Hi Crescent, and welcome to DD. Nice to meet you, and glad to have you join us. Come in, be comfy, lots of likeminded people. Pull up a high chair, and grab your favorite bottle. Any questions, don’t be shy. Relax, have fun, and enjoy!

I'm glad to hear that, and yeah I would love to talk to you! and thanks for the advice on the chat I will check that out and I don't mind if you wanna PM me too and wanna get to know you and BIG HUGS to you too! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you

(I wasn't totally sure whether to put this in the Story channel or the Art channel, since it contains both. If I'm in the wrong spot, please someone let me know and I'll move it!) I'm dabbling with captions! Please let me know what you think - I'm quite pleased with how it turned out, but uncertain if I want to devote my time to making more of these. Feedback would be very much appreciated! Art is by HofBondage, everyone please give him a big thank you for lending out some of his sketches for me to use!

Rearz has some good ones under both the Rearz website, and their more medical-focused InControl sub-brand. I probably own a dozen of them - basic black, grey or white t-shirt style onesies with snap crotches. I wear them pretty much everyday, because they prevent waistline diaper peekaboo's if I bend over or sit down, they also quiet the diaper a bit, and, they help with sagging. I'd advise you to have a look for them in the next week or two, and to keep checking back in, as in the past they've offered Black Friday and/or Cyber Monday deals that last maybe a weekend or a few days, where they take 30% off on them. That's when I stock up.

My wife changes me, when we are playing "Baby Time". She bought a yoga mat at Walmart that stays rolled in the corner and no is the wiser. If we are upstairs she will change me on the bed or floor (always on the mat). When she changes me downstairs it is always on the floor.

@DiaperedJoe cost is one thing to consider when you make your decision. Right now I am paying $4 a gallon for gas. Plus everything else has gone up- groceries, utilities, housing, etc. Diapers aren't cheap. Diapers are one of those things that you can't cheap out on. Quality diapers are expensive. Retraining is possible although it will take time and effort. If you decide to retrain I would work on daytime retraining first. If you go to a party, wedding or another event. do you want to wear a diaper and carry a diaper bag? There are pros and cons to both choices. Let us know how it goes.

The older I get the more I realise that although we are the centre of our own worlds (or kind of should be) we definitely aren't the centre of everyone else's. Therefore, people don't tend to notice other people all that much really. Not the average looking, average age people anyway. Sure they'll notice the obviously different stuff - obvious disabilities for example - but nappy wearing is just too subtle generally. Some people without a nappy have a huge bum anyway and some skinny people who wear nappies end up with a normal sized bum! Unless you've worn an adult nappy I don't think you would ever expect someone else to be wearing one and wouldn't know the signs (crinkly walk, backpack, choosing the disabled loo stall). And I also think the more confident you are about it yourself, the less obvious you make it. For example, peeking round the corner as you come out of a stall with a used nappy bag to see if anyone is there is obviously going to make people look rather than someone just marching out and throwing something in the bin. Confident is a difficult trick but a trick nonetheless!

Twenty Ted Lemire. I have no idea who he is. I don’t know what his job title is. I don’t know how long he’s worked here. But I walk past his desk about five times a day, everyday. And every time I see him, he looks absolutely stressed out. His monitors look like abstract art, with charts and graphs zig zagging in all directions. Documents and file folders litter his cubicle. I never see him taking a break. He’s just always at his desk. Working. Stressing. And there I was, sitting at my cubicle with nothing to do. Well, just about nothing. I had a task–but it didn’t require my computer. Or paperwork. I wondered what would happen if Ted Lemire and I had a chat. Maybe we’d meet at the watercooler one day and he’d get to venting about how overloaded he was. He’d talk about how much work there was to do, and so little time to do it. The company was working him too hard, and they weren’t paying him well enough. “But enough about me,” he’d say. “Are they keeping you busy right now?” “Well…not especially. Honestly, the only thing I’ve got on the docket today is to poop my pants by lunchtime. So…I guess I’m working on that right now.” Ted Lemire, a man who was clearly working himself to the bone, would probably punch me in the face. Note to self: Maybe don’t engage in any conversations with Ted. I kept thinking about Ted as I sat in my cubicle, staring into space because I had so little to do. There were hundreds of Teds in this building, as best as I could tell. And then there was me. Literally just sitting around until I worked up the nerve to push a mess into the seat of my pants. I was conflicted. It didn’t seem very fair…but wasn’t this the dream? Well. A fucked-up kinky version of the dream. But a dream regardless. “Well, well,” a voice said, interrupting my ethical quandary. I knew that voice quite well–Lyndie. I almost leaped out of my chair, excited to see her. “Look who I’ve found.” “Lyndie,” I said, standing up. “I…I’m sorry I wasn’t very good about getting back to your texts this weekend. I had a lot going on and…” “Shush,” she said. “Don’t worry about it.” “Where’s your desk?” I asked. “Are you seated somewhere around here now too?” Lyndie laughed, blushing a little. “Oh…you didn’t hear?” “Hear?” I asked. “Hear what?” “They didn’t give me a cubicle.” “What? That doesn’t seem right. Where are you supposed to work? Do they just expect you to wander the halls aimlessly now until you’re needed for something?” She laughed, shaking her head. “No, silly. I don’t have a cubicle because…I got an office.” “A-an office?” I was completely flabbergasted. “But…just last week we were interns. And now you have an office?” She laughed again, shrugging. “Seems kinda surreal, huh?” “But how? Why?” “I guess the powers-that-be had been advocating for a…” her tone dropped a little as she leaned in towards me, “...nursery for a little while. And now they have one, which doubles as my office.” I thought of poor Ted Lemire again, toiling away for who-knows-how-long at his cubicle. “It makes sense,” Lyndie said. “The logistics of changing stinky diapers in the executives’ offices were quite challenging. And now, there’s a place for that–separated from where the wrong person might see or smell something they shouldn’t.” “I can’t believe they’ve gone this long without something like that,” I said. “Better late than never,” she replied, shrugging. “Anyhoo, I heard about the little project Gabrielle has you working on this morning.” “Y-you know about that? She told you?” “Well she didn’t just directly say that to me. It was just in a memo she sent to the rest of the executive team.” “Wait, what? She sent out a memo? To…multiple people? What exactly did she say?” “Nothing much–she just detailed your itinerary today.” “But she didn’t give me anything to do except…” “You have a tight deadline,” she said. “Lunch, right? Think you’ll be able to fill that diaper by then?” “S-she told everyone about that?” Lyndie nodded. My cheeks felt red. Actually, they felt like they were on fire. Given everything that I had experienced recently–especially that little ceremony in the conference room last week–nothing should’ve surprised me. But the idea of memos being sent out to a group of people, without my knowledge, talking about the dirty little tasks that Ms. Heller had given me? It made my heart want to pound right out of my chest. “I know it’s embarrassing,” she said. “But it’s not like you’re the only one they talk about. Neve Beaufort, for example, shared some photos of her feeding Ava this morning. I’d argue that’s just as humiliating, wouldn’t you?” “I suppose,” I said. Was that more humiliating than everyone knowing that I had a limited amount of time to fill my diaper? I didn’t think so, but maybe Ava would’ve said the same thing about her embarrassment. “So?” Lyndie asked, a playful look on her face. “How’s your, uh, job going?” “Oh, it’s, uhm…” “I’m going to assume it hasn’t happened yet. For obvious reasons.” I shook my head. “Tick tock, Clark.” “I know, I know.” “Think you’ll be done in time?” I had been wondering the same thing myself. Theoretically, it shouldn’t be a problem. ‘Lunchtime’ seemed ill-defined, but assuming that it was noon, I had about an hour to go. And I certainly had–for lack of better phrasing–a bullet loaded in the chamber, ready to go. My body had expected my morning constitutional by now, and the fact that I hadn’t gone yet was being responded to with some occasional cramping in my belly. It was more of a psychological thing. Obviously, it wouldn’t be the first time I messed my diaper at work. But this still felt different. I wasn’t alone with Mommy in her office. I wasn’t locked in The Closet while a suppository took away my agency. I was out in the open now, and my diaper wasn’t going to get used unless I could bring myself to use it. “Maybe,” I finally answered. “You can do it,” she said, smiling. “I believe in you.” In the context of what we were talking about, her faith in me seemed absurd. Still, I needed to hear that–just as I needed to see her again. “Thank you.” “And how about your, uhm, cage?” she asked. “How is that going?” That seemed to be the topic du jour, though it wasn’t hard to see why. “It’s fine.” “Just fine?” Perhaps nobody else besides Ms. Heller could appreciate my plight as much as Lyndie. She’d changed the worst of my diapers, and she had seen for herself how turned that had made me. “It’s an adjustment, for sure,” I said. “I bet. But it’ll be good for you.” “You think? How so?” “Absence makes the heart grow fonder, doesn’t it?” she asked. “Just think of how great it’ll be when she finally unlocks you.” “I suppose,” I said, looking down as my cheeks warmed. “If she chooses to unlock me.” “I’m sure she will. Eventually.” Eventually. That could be today. Or next week. Or…a year from now. My stomach twisted, just thinking about being stuck in this thing for the next few months with no hope of relief. “Well I should get going,” she said. “I promised Nancy that I’d go check on Bradley for her. She decided to start diaper-training him. You know, now that I’m around to do the diaper changes.” “Good luck with that.” She laughed. “If you think you’re timid, you ought to see him. I swear, the little wimp should’ve been in diapers years ago.” And just as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone again, leaving me to my own devices–sitting at my new cubicle, pondering the hows and whens of pooping my pants. I felt the slightest ache in my bladder, and I decided that this was as good a place to start as any. I was getting used to wetting my diaper. It was starting to feel normal. With just the slightest amount of effort, I could feel the warm wetness hitting the padding and spreading throughout the front of the diaper. Regardless of how normal it was starting to seem, it still felt good. Great, even. It was hard to pinpoint the reason why, but wetting myself while in the chastity cage seemed to enhance the pleasure I got from it. My best guess as to why was that it just held my cock in the perfect position to saturate the diaper–but it was just as likely that it simply felt naughtier while caged. It was easy–too easy, perhaps–to get lost in that moment. I suddenly remembered I was in the office, in my cubicle, still. People were scurrying around, doing actual work. Ted Lemire was probably neck-deep in tasks at his desk. And there I was, reeling in the pleasure of a soaked diaper. Calm down. Let’s not make a big scene about this… Easy for me to say, considering that I was seconds away from grinding my torso back and forth in my office chair to rub against my wet diaper. A little too self-conscious, I scrambled to at least try and look like I was being productive. I opened a few windows on my computer and stared at my screen like I was in the midst of some project. Nothing to see here, co-workers. Just a normal working-man doing my job. But wetting my diaper had done more than just making my pants warmer. It seemed to have sent a signal to the rest of my body that it was time to empty out everything. The stress in my bowels seemed to have doubled–tripled–in the last few minutes. It wouldn’t take much for me to just push everything into my diaper. I had no doubt that I could do it, and do it quickly. The challenge was in the timing. If I was to do it now, could I just waltz into Ms. Heller’s office and proclaim that I needed a change? Or would she cast me out, telling me to return at ‘lunch?’ What then? Run around the building in a smelly diaper for the next however-long until she was ready to change me? Or, I could play it safe and wait until it was actually lunch, load my diaper then, and then report to her. Though… Maybe she’d see that as me cutting it a little too close. She didn’t ask me to fill my diaper at lunchtime–she asked me to do it before. I took a deep breath in an effort to center myself. I knew what had to be done, and there probably wasn’t any better time than the present. I glanced over to Ms. Heller’s office. The door was closed. Maybe that meant she was busy or in a meeting. Or maybe she just wanted her door closed. But I was pretty sure she was alone. I’d have seen if someone walked into her office, right? Had I been that distracted by wetting myself. No. I was pretty sure that she was alone in her office. Sure enough. The plan was rather simple: Mess my diaper and then burst into Ms. Heller’s office to show her what I had done. Ideally, I’d accomplish all of this within less than half a minute. I wasn’t sure how long I could dally on the office floor in a dirty diaper before others could smell what I did, but it couldn’t have been long. Perhaps even 30 seconds was too much time. Just focus. You can do this. I looked around again. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help myself. This was different. There were people around me. People I didn’t know. People who didn’t know me. People who I might one day know if I stuck around with this company. And could there be a worse reputation to have than ‘the new guy who pooped his pants?’ You’re overthinking this. I wasn’t the first person this ever happened to in this building, I knew that. Hillary–Ms. Heller’s last ‘assistant.’ She too had been kept in diapers. And there’s no way that, at some point, she hadn’t been expected to fill her diapers per Ms. Heller’s request. Right? But Hillary isn’t here anymore. And you’d have to wonder why that is. Was there a line she wasn’t willing to cross? Another deep breath. I needed to stop thinking about it and just do it. I had a simple plan, and it seemed best to stick to it. The sooner it was done, the sooner I could see Ms. Heller. And the sooner I saw Ms. Heller, the sooner I could get a change. I took one last glance around. The immediate area around me seemed quiet enough. There probably wasn’t going to be a better time than this. And so… Here we go. I pushed. Everything rushed out of me and into the diaper, all at once. It was much louder than I had expected it to be, a wet ripple that seemed to cut right through the local noise of shuffling papers, footsteps, and keyboards clacking. The mess itself–a soft mush with seemingly no shape or form–instantly filled the diaper, squelching its way into every available nook and cranny. From my vantage point, it couldn’t have been more obvious what happened. And for an incredibly hazy moment, I was unsure if the world around me had stopped to see what I had done or not. But I heard the click-clack of typing. People talking about reports. Footsteps of people walking past my cubicle. Nobody was coming to investigate. Nobody was asking me if I was alright. Nobody was standing up in the middle of the office and loudly proclaiming that someone has just shit their pants. I shifted a little in my office chair, feeling the gooey mess squish and contort between my body and the padding. I really wished that I hadn’t done that–the feeling between my legs had been as delightful as it was disgusting. I felt my helpless cock straining in my cage as I fought against the temptation to just continue shifting back and forth in my dirt diaper. Alright. The hard part was done. Now, to show Ms. Heller that I had completed my task. I was actually proud of myself. The very first task I was given by Mommy, and I absolutely crushed it–as evidenced by the thick mass that was causing my diaper to sag within my pants. But I had to move now. It had only been seconds–certainly less than the half-minute I had planned for–and I could already begin to smell the putrid fumes wafting from my pants. I started walking, finding that the swampy diaper had reduced my stride to a pathetic waddle. My pace was quick, but careful, trying to mitigate sloshing around the mess I had made more than I had to. I lifted my hand to knock on Ms. Heller’s door, but I opted against it at the last moment. I was her assistant. Sure, maybe she kept me in diapers and treated me like a literal infant–but she still entrusted me with the title. If anyone could barge into her office, let it be me. I quickly opened the door and rushed inside, closing the door behind me. I immediately went into it: “Mommy, I did it. Just as you asked. It took me a while. But…well…I did exactly what you wanted me to do and…” I trailed off at the end, as I turned around from the door to see that Ms. Heller wasn’t alone. Sitting down on the other side of the desk was Ms. Beaufort herself. Both looked absolutely delighted to see me. I panicked, turning back towards the door again. “M-maybe I should come back later.” “No, no,” Ms. Heller said. “Please, Baby, come over here.” My heart beat like a jackhammer as I slowly turned back towards the women. “Now then,” Ms. Heller continued. “What were you saying? What did you accomplish?” “M-my task,” I said, looking towards Ms. Beaufort nervously. “The one…you asked me to do.” “And could you please remind me what that specific task was?” she asked. “I think Ms. Beaufort would be curious herself.” “I…well…” “Go on, sweetpea,” cooed Ms. Beaufort. I couldn’t help but glance down at her chest for just the briefest of moments. “I…used my diaper like you asked me to.” “Used?” Ms. Heller asked. “Be more specific.” “I…messed my diaper.” “Oh,” Ms. Beaufort said, voice rich with mock-astonishment. “Is that what that smell is?” “It would seem so,” Ms. Heller said, playing along. “Maybe the little baby ought to come closer so that we can have a closer look.” I sighed, waddling towards Mommy–already knowing where this was headed. Ms. Beaufort would just be the latest on a growing list of people who had been exposed to my dirty diapers. And, meanwhile, Ted Lemire was somewhere on the other side of the office door–working his ass off.

Hi all! It's been a while since I've posted a story here and even longer since I actually wrote anything, but I've decided to participate in NaNoWriMo this year and, well, this is the result! I won't say too much about the story lest I give away too much, but I do hope you all enjoy this story. Of course, any and all feedback is welcomed and greatly appreciated! I'm only posting the first few chapters today, but I have about 25k words already written, so more will follow shortly. Without further ado, I present The Life and Humiliations of Lavender Fairchild, or A Tale of Diapers and Doctorates. Chapter One I checked my eyeliner in the rearview mirror for what must have been at least the tenth time that night, but it was, just like the ninth time, flawless. I’d gone for a much more toned down look this evening than I was used to, trading my usual razor-sharp wings for a simple black lining and keeping my purple eyeshadow modest. I had even resisted the temptation to add any of my usual glitter or other embellishements—at least, I had mostly resisted: there was a single star drawn in black eyeliner just below the outside corner of my right eye, perfectly framed against my eye by my glasses. My eyes might have been all flawless simplicity, but my lipstick was a different story; nervously chewing my bottom lip on the drive here had left it in bad need of a touch up. I smeared more dark red across my lips, wiped the red off my teeth, and suddenly found myself lacking a single reason to continue lingering in my car. Lingering. What a polite word for procrastinating. Cowering even. Come on, get your shit together, there’s nothing to be nervous about. But…isn’t there? This is a big night; it’s really important I don’t screw this up or do anything stupid. It’s just a friendly dinner; there’s nothing more to it and thinking it might be is how you’ll end up doing something stupid. But she’s been so…she’s been flirting with me lately, I’m sure of it! Flirting? With you? She’s just being nice; there’s no way she sees you that way. You’re deluding yourself and going to end up doing something stupid. … You know that, right? I…yes, of course I know that, but I want to impress her anyway. Then get your shit together! Keep your head on straight! Come the fuck on! I was right, I had to get my shit together, and that started with me getting out of my car. I took a deep breath, checked my make up for the eleventh time, and stepped out of my car. I was parked in front of a three-story brick house with an elegant but unadorned façade nestled squarely in the middle of a block of five equally large houses. I checked the house number and compared it to the one in the email she had sent me. A small spike of panic rose in my throat as I confirmed it was the right house—and there I had been, just sitting in my car for the past ten minutes, what if she had seen me? I swallowed hard to push the panic down, put my phone in my purse, and forced myself to walk up to the front door. The doorbell chimed deep within the brick house, and I waited awkwardly on the front step, suddenly unsure what normal people did with their hands. After cycling through various options, I settled on holding them behind my back just in time for the door to open. I swallowed hard, partly out of nerves and partly because… Jesus fuck she’s gorgeous. “Lavender!” She exclaimed brightly from the doorway. She had raven black and wavy hair with hints of grey that made her look as distinguished as her career and wore a tight black dress that clung to her curves with a pink belt that matched her short nails cinched around her waist, translucent black hose, and simple black heels. She opened the screen door for me and gestured for me to enter, “please come in! I’m so glad you could make it; how are you this evening?” “I’m good, thank you,” I said a little breathlessly as I stepped past her and into the front hallway. I looked around, taking in her home; it was all polished wood, plush area rugs, and books—there were bookcases packed with books along every wall in sight and stray books on almost every surface, including a small stack of three on the fourth step of the staircase leading upstairs. Ask her how she is, you idiot! “And, um, how are you, Professor Devereux?” “Please,” she said with a smile and a light touch on my shoulder, “call me Vivian. My undergrads call me Professor Devereux; we’re colleagues and friends, right?” “Right,” I gave her a weak smiled and tried to breath out some of the tension that had suddenly wormed its way into my body, “sorry, Pro…uh, Vivian.” She smiled in a way that made me feel…electric and led me deeper into the house. “Dinner isn’t quite done,” she said as we walked, “but I just need a few more minutes! I do hope you like beef wellington.” “I, uh, I’ve never had it,” I barely knew what it was except that it was far fancier than what I could afford on the meager stipend I get from my stipend. “Well, I’m sure you’ll love it; I’m told my beef wellington is to die for.” Professor Devereux…that is, Vivian led me into a room just off the front hallway that appeared to be her living room. There was a plush looking couch with immaculately placed throw pillows in front of a dark wood coffee table covered with papers and, of course, more bookshelves all around the room. “Pardon the mess,” she said, gesturing to the papers, “I was grading papers in front of the TV earlier,” she lowered her voice as she said it as though she were admitting something shameful. “May I offer you a drink? A Martini? A glass of wine?” “Some wine would be lovely,” I replied. Just one glass, okay? Enough to calm your nerves but not enough that you’ll do something stupid. “Excellent,” she said as she walked across the room to a small liquor cabinet nestled between the bookcases, “I have a wonderful pinot noir that will pair excellently with the beef wellington.” Pinot noir was red, I knew that. Right? “Thank you, that would be lovely.” She pulled a wine glass out of the cabinet and popped the cork off a bottle that was already open, “I hope you don’t mind,” she said as she poured, “I’ve already had a glass myself.” “Not at all, thank you,” I took the glass she offered me (I was right, it was red) and took a sip. It tasted like every other red wine I had ever had, which is to say bitter and dry, but I smiled and nodded when she asked if I liked it. At least I wouldn’t be tempted to drink more than I needed to settle my nerves. “Well,” she said as she smoothed her dress after a small but awkward silence, “I should go get dinner finished, is there anything I can get you?” “No, I’m good thank you,” gods I was already being awkward, I had no idea what to say. “Right then,” she stood there for a moment, as if uncertain whether she should go or not, “I guess…just,” she gestured to the room around us, “make yourself at home, it’ll just be a few minutes.” “Take your time,” I smiled and looked around, “I’ll just…” Just what? Oh, gods, she’s looking at you, waiting for you to finish, you’ll just what? “You know,” I said with a breathy laugh, “I have to admit I’m dying with curiosity to see what you keep on your bookshelves.” Yes, books! That’s your common ground! Her face broke into a grin, and she chuckled, “please, sate your curiosity! I think that shelf will be particularly interesting to you!” And with another assurance that she would be just a few minutes, she disappeared back through the door we had entered from. Taking another sip of my wine, I walked up to the bookcase she had motioned towards. I couldn’t help but smile—displayed right in the center of the bookcase was the Nebula Award for best fantasy novel that she had won for A Restoration of Rainbows, the concluding entry in her bestselling Blood and Pride trilogy. The shelf below showcased the Lambda Literary Awards she had won for A Restoration of Rainbows and the second entry, A Founding of Family. Staring at her awards, I couldn’t help but feel a bit…fangirl-y. The truth was, even after working with Professor Devereux—er, Vivian for a year, she still made me feel a little star struck. But Vivian wasn’t just a great author, though she was that, she was also a brilliant academic. I loved her novels, and it was certainly a treat to work so closely with an author I respected so much, but it wasn’t why I was working with her. When it came time to pick an advisor to help me write my doctoral dissertation, I picked Vivian for her literary criticism and theory. Vivian had written her own dissertation on misogynistic tropes in fantasy that would go on to be regarded as a seminal text on the subject and since then made a name for herself in academia for her brilliant analyses of gender and sexuality in popular fantasy. Her work had been indispensable and highly influential on my master’s thesis, so to work with her now on my dissertation was nothing short of a dream come true. And it has nothing to do with how hot she is. It does have nothing to do with that! I’m a doctoral student who deeply respects the brilliance of her advisor and mentor, not some middle school girl with a crush on her teacher. But you do have a crush on her. She’s objectively attractive; I can’t help that I notice that, but I do not have a crush on her! You’re blushing just thinking about it! My cheeks were oddly warm, but surely that was just the wine. When had I finished my glass? I still felt anxious, maybe another glass wouldn’t hurt? I was eyeing the bottle on the liquor cabinet shelf, considering whether or not it would be rude to pour myself another glass, when the door to the living room opened. “Sorry to keep you waiting,” Vivian’s lips shined a vibrant red that hadn’t been there before, and I couldn’t help but let my eyes linger on how soft they looked. She walked across the room as I assured her it was no problem and grabbed the bottle of wine I had just been eyeing. Without so much as a question, she once again popped the cork and filled my glass. “Well, dinner is served,” she smiled and led me through the second door in the room and into a large dining room. The large, rectangular table in the center of the room had twelve chairs circling it, one at each end and five along each side, but she had set our plates right across from each other in the middle of each side. “Please,” she said as she set the bottle of wine on the table and pulled out the chair for me, “have a seat.” Blushing only a little, I thanked her and took the chair, allowing her to push it in for me. This feels like a date. Don’t start, this isn’t a date. It feels like a date! It’s not a date, you absolute idiot! “I’m so glad you agreed to join me for dinner,” Vivian said as she walked around the table. “It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to talk in depth about your dissertation, and I’m so looking forward to hearing about what you’ve been working on.” See? Not a date. “Thank you so much for inviting me; everything looks absolutely delicious,” and it did. Beef wellington, roasted potatoes with some kind of herbs, and sauteed broccolini studded with big chunks of garlic. My mouth was watering. “I didn’t know you were such a good cook.” “Well, I love to entertain,” she explained as she sat down and topped off her wine glass, “and cooking the meals myself is so much more…intimate that hiring a caterer.” The way she said “intimate” made the word hang heavily in the air. I took another sip of wine to hide the warmth in my cheeks. “It looks delicious,” I repeated a little weakly, at a loss for what else to say. She smiled and took a sip of her own wine, her freshly painted lips leaving dark red prints on the rim of her glass. “So,” she said as she picked up her utensils, “tell me all about your dissertation.” Chapter Two “What I do find really interesting,” I paused to take another gulp of my wine—gods, why was my mouth so dry? “is that the books sometimes seem to be critical of gender essentialism and strict gender roles, like when Nynaeve complains that men always think violence is the answer and then immediately wishes she could beat some sense into them, like it seems very self-aware in these moments, but ultimately the text is…well, you know,” another gulp, “the lore and the world-building and are all so embroiled in the dichotomy of the gender binary that it was the act of trying to find a form of magic that transcended the gender binary that caused the breaking of the world, suggesting that the dichotomy and male and female is not just an innate part of nature but a necessary part, that it holds the world together, you know?” I raised my wine glass to my lips to take another drink and was shocked to find it empty. The shock interrupted my train of thought, and I stared down at my empty glass for a long moment. “More wine?” Vivian was still sitting across the dining room table from me, smiling with her whole face. It suddenly occurred to me that these were the first words she had said for…gods, how long had I been rambling on? Great, you drank too much and now you’re blathering on like an idiot and embarrassing yourself. I blushed and set my wine glass down, “no, thank you, I think I’ve had enough. I get a little…verbose when I drink, I’m sorry.” Vivian laughed gently, “it’s quite alright, I invited you over for dinner to hear all about your dissertation and that’s what we are doing! Besides, I’m riveted, you’re quite a brilliant little scholar.” My cheeks absolutely burned. “Thank you,” I managed to murmur. “I mean it,” she said, picking up the bottle of wine (was it still the second bottle? Or had she opened a third? I wasn’t sure) and began filling my glass, “so please, have some more wine and continue.” I licked my lips; I wanted the wine, but my head was swimming already. “Thank you but I’ve really had too much already, I still have to drive…” my voice got quieter as I approached the end of my sentence and eventually trailed off. Even as I said it, I knew I had already gone past the point of being able to drive home, I’d have to take a Lyft and come back for my car tomorrow. “Nonsense,” Vivian said matter-of-factly, “you don’t have to do any such thing. In fact, I’d be beyond irresponsible to even think about letting you get behind the wheel tonight, you’ll stay in the guest room.” “I…” was tempted, Lyft’s weren’t cheap and my stipend didn’t exactly leave me with a lot of expendable income, but even so “…couldn’t impose like that.” “I insist,” she said firmly, “and it’s the least I can do after pouring your wine all night.” I sighed and picked up my newly refilled wine glass, “I suppose…if you insist…then it would be rude for me not to accept the offer, thank you.” “You can thank me,” Vivian said as she topped off her own wine glass before setting the bottle back on the table, “by continuing what you were saying.” Something about the way she was looking at me sent tingles down my spine and made unconsciously chew my lower lip. I was just imagining it though, right? I was just tipsy and projecting what I secretly wanted onto her professional interest. Right? Told you that you have a crush, like a lovestruck middle school girl. Shut up. I took a sip of my wine and gave Vivian an embarrassed smile. “I’m sorry, I seem to have forgotten what I was saying.” “Well, tell me, Lavender,” the way she said my name made my stomach flutter, “what do you think of the non-normative sexuality inherent in the relationships between sul’dam and damane?” I felt my cheeks go red just thinking about the question, but I took another gulp of wine to push past my embarrassment and managed to give an answer that didn’t include my how often their non-normative sexuality influenced my own sexual fantasies. Chapter Three I didn’t remember going to bed that night—the evening got pretty fuzzy after Vivian opened the fourth bottle of wine—but I’d never forget waking up the next morning. The first thing I noticed when I woke up was how dry my mouth was, then the pounding in my too heavy head. Gods, how did I go from promising myself I’d only have one glass to helping Vivian polish off four bottles of wine so easily? Stupid, stupid girl. I opened my eyes and blearily look around the room. The bed I was laying in was massive, piled with pillows and plush blankets, and surrounded by four polished wooden posts that held up a translucent pink canopy. It was gorgeous and probably the most comfortable bed I had ever slept it. It wasn’t until I sat up in bed to get a better look at the rest of the room that I noticed something else about the bed: it was wet and cold. I froze, panic rising in my chest, and threw back the covers to confirm what I already knew—I had wet the bed. What the fuck did you do?! Oh gods, what had I done? And more importantly, what the fuck was I supposed to do about it? There was no way I could keep Vivian from finding out; she was going to lose all respect for me, and she certainly wouldn’t be interested in me now… Really? That’s what you’re worried about right now? She was never interested in you in the first place, you idiot! Tears welled up behind my eyes, threatening to cascade down my cheeks, but I fought them until my eyes burned. I wouldn’t cry; I refused to let myself. Just sneak out before Vivian wakes up. You’ll have to drop out of the program, of course, there’s no way you can ever face her again after this. How had this even happened? I hadn’t wet the bed since I was a kid! Sure, I had a lot of wine… A lot of wine… …but it wasn’t like this was the first time I’d gotten that drunk, and this had never happened before! Who knows how long I might have sat there in a puddle of my own pee paralyzed by panic and dread if not for the light knock on the door that broke me out of stasis. As the doorknob turned, I did the only thing I could think of, the only thing I could do, and threw the blankets back over myself, covering my accident. “Morning, Lavender,” Vivian said she poked her head through the crack in the door, “did you sleep okay?” My cheeks burned so hot I thought for sure my face would spontaneously combust, but, unfortunately, it did no such thing. I opened my mouth to say something, I’m not even sure what, but no sound came out. So much for my paralysis being broken. “Lavender?” A note of concern crept into Vivian’s voice, “is everything okay?” I shook my head: no, no everything was not okay. “What’s wrong?” She asked, her voice gentle, as she stepped into the room fully. “Did you get sick? You poor thing, I guess I got carried away with pouring wine, didn’t I?” I shook my head again, though the churning in my stomach made me uncertain whether I’d be able to say that for much longer. “No? Then what’s wrong?” She took a few steps into the room and towards the bed and paused; Vivian sniffed gently at the air and a sudden look of understanding dawned on her face. “Did…Lavender, did you have…an accident?” The condescending sympathy in her voice was too much; the dam broke and tears spilled down my cheeks in racking sobs. You’re so pathetic; you pissed the bed and now you’re sobbing like a child in front of your professor, in front of this gorgeous woman you’ve completely ruined your chances with, not that you ever had a chance in the first place, she could never be interested in a freak like you. “Hey, now,” Vivian said softly as she sat on the edge of the bed and put a comforting hand on my back, rubbing small circles as she spoke, “it’s okay, I promise, everything is okay, I’m not mad, I promise! These things happen, it’s really no big deal, we’ll take care of it and get you all cleaned up, okay?” She continued to say soothing things and reassure me as she rubbed my back. With her free hand, she grabbed some tissues off the nightstand and gently wiped my cheeks and nose. Before long, and with the help of Vivian’s comforting, my sobs subsided into whimpers and gentle crying, and as they did Vivian wrapped one arm around me, pulled me close to her chest, and held me while making soothing sounds and gently rocking me back and forth. “There we go,” Vivian said as she let go of me once my crying had dried up, “much calmer now, yeah? Sometimes feelings are just too big and we have to cry,” she grabbed another handful of tissues and set to work wiping my face. “Blow,” she said as she held a tissue to my nose. I should have been too embarrassed, I should have hesitated at least a little bit, but I blew without a second thought. Humiliation seared into my soul, and I felt distant from my body. But despite everything, electricity still crackled through my body from the excitement of Vivian’s embrace, and her gentle words made warmth bloom in my chest. I just wanted her to keep holding me and tell me everything was okay. “Feeling better, Lavender?” She smiled oh so warmly and oh so prettily and I nodded my head—and I was feeling better too, even if part of me still wanted to run out of the room, drop out of my program, and disappear off the face of the earth. “Well, let’s see what the damage is and we can get everything taken care of, okay?” Vivian grabbed the blankets and began to pull them off me but paused and made eye contact with me, as if checking to make sure I was okay with her pulling them off. The thought of Vivian, Professor Devereux, my advisor, my mentor, my role model seeing me sitting in my own pee made me stomach do flips; I gave her a quick nod and looked away. The cold hit me like a train as Vivian pulled away the blankets. I was still wearing the black skater skirt I had worn to dinner, but it was bunched up around my waist, leaving my purple lace-trimmed panties and the tell-tale wet stain on full display. The white, floral print sheets were stained a mild yellow in a puddle that expanded out around me. And then there was the smell of pee that had given me away, suddenly so much stronger with the blanket removed. “You poor thing,” Vivian said sympathetically, “now I understand why you were so hesitant to spend the night!” Wait, what does she mean by that? “I promise, this will be our little secret, okay?” Vivian stood up and took me by the wrist, “now, come on, let me show you to the bathroom, I’m sure you’ll want to take a bath.” The mention of a bath made all my other thoughts fly from my head; a bath was exactly what I needed, not just to clean my body but to clear my head and gain some separation from the knot of emotions this whole incident had left sitting in my stomach. I let her help me out of bed and smoothed my skirt down as if there was any chance of regaining my dignity after sitting in my own piss with my wet panties on full display. Neither of us said a word as Vivian led me out of the room and down the hallway. My cheeks burned once again as the wet fabric of my skirt rubbed against the back of my legs and the wet fabric of my panties rubbed against…other things. I followed Vivian into a spacious bathroom with a huge claw-footed tub and stood awkwardly in the center of the room as Vivian turned on the faucet and checked the temperature of the water, making a few adjustments until she was satisfied. “There,” she said when she had finally found the perfect temperature and plugged the bathtub. She lingered for a moment, long enough for me to wonder if she was expecting me to undress in front of her, but finally she cleared her throat and made her way to the door. “Just leave your wet clothes on the floor outside the bathroom and I’ll collect them after I strip the bed and throw them in the laundry for you. There are towels just in there,” she gestured towards a closet just inside the bathroom, “as well as a robe you can use when you’re done.” “Thank you,” I muttered weakly, fully aware that it seemed to be too weak of a sentiment for the occasion. “You’re quite welcome,” she said as she stepped out into the hallway and gently closed the door behind her. I took a deep breath and exhaled long and hard. I walked over to the sink and leaned over it, taking in my image in the mirror. My face was puffy and red from crying, my flawless make up smeared and ruined, and my blue hair a mess of tangles. You really fucked up. I know, I know. Like, really fucked up. I was right, but what was I supposed to do about it? The worst part was…no, I didn’t want to think about that, I was humiliated enough without acknowledging the whole…that. Fuck me. I shook myself out of my pity party and stripped out of my wet clothes, cracking open the bathroom door just enough to set them in a neat pile right outside the door. By then the tub was full; I turned off the water and stepped in. The water was a little warmer than I would have liked it, but my muscles immediately began to release their tension as I lowered myself into the water. Well…fuck.

Time for a new Sol Sombra story, this one from the perspective of the caregiver. It's a lot different than the previous stuff I've posted, as it's a series of one-off encounters with the main character as the only real continuity. I hope you enjoy the adventures of Monserrat, Adult Babysitter for Hire! ----- 1 Amira “Tell me again how it isn’t prostitution.” The voice on the phone was more than a little sarcastic. Not that Clarissa had a lot of tones that weren’t sarcastic. Monserrat glanced in irritation at her phone, hanging on the dash of her car. With an effort she forced her eyes back on the road. “Because, bitch, I’m not having sex with anyone. It’s companionship.” “Monchi, you think they aren’t expecting it?” Clarissa asked. Notifications flashing on the phone caught the corner of Monserrat’s vision. She rolled her eyes. How many times had she told Lyssa she couldn’t look at memes while driving? “The client puts up what they’re expecting on the job posting. I don’t pick the ones that are asking for sex.” “Yeah, you and all the other women on that app. I’m sure dudes learned early not to check that box.” “I’m not even visiting a guy today. The client is a woman.” “Uh huh, and I’m sure her boyfriend won’t just ‘happen’ to be there when you show up.” “If that happens, I’ll cancel the job and leave.” Monserrat said, exasperated. “I’m girl bossing this, you don’t have to worry about me.” “I’m pretty sure that worrying about you is in the best friend job description.” Clarissa said. “Just be careful, okay?” “I am, that’s why we’re talking on the way to the job. You have the address and everything. If I don’t text you in forty five minutes, call the cops.” “Yeah, I know the plan. The fact that you’re on a job with that kind of plan is what’s making me worry.” “It’ll be fine. It’s a better way to pay for college than stripping.” “We should move to Europe so that’s not even a choice we have to make.” “Yeah, I’ll get right on that multi-year immigration process. Love you Lyssa. I’m pulling into the driveway now.” “Love you Monchi. Don’t be late on that text, be safe.” Monserrat swiped the call closed and let her call roll to a gentle stop in the client’s driveway. The house looked normal enough, painted a sort of algae blue. It was a nice neighborhood too. She sighed and checked the escort app on her phone. EscortQuest made a lot of promises about the amount of money you could make, and how you wouldn’t have to do anything you didn’t want to do. “Here’s hoping that’s actually true.” Monserrat said to herself. She checked in on the app and knocked on the door. There were some odd shuffling sounds before the door was hesitantly opened to reveal a dark skinned woman in a floral top. “Hi, are you from EscortQuest?” “That’s me.” Monserrat said, smiling her best customer service smile. “I’m Monserrat. Are you Amira?” “Yes, I’m Amira. I have my ID here, you need to see it, right?” “Yes please.” Monserrat checked Amira’s ID, it seemed legit. She showed her own as well. Neither of them were able to legally drink, but Amira was a couple of years older, and doing pretty well to have a house. Or maybe she was just renting it. “Okay uh, come on in.” Amira stepped back, still shy or hesitant. The fact that she wasn’t straight to business was reassuring. After all, Monserrat still didn’t know exactly what to expect from these escort jobs. “Thanks.” The house was very clean, with tasteful art up on the walls. It didn’t look like it had been cut into a bunch of tiny rooms for college students. The living room was set up for a kid, with toys and coloring books on a shelf next to the TV. “Is this a babysitting job?” Monserrat asked in surprise. “There have got to be cheaper babysitting services.” “Uh, it is.” Amira smiled, blushing cutely. “But I can’t use a regular babysitter. I’m uh, I’m the baby you’re sitting.” Monserrat blinked and looked Amira over more carefully. She was wearing shortalls that on further examination had been embroidered with teddy bears. The floral top had very short sleeves and was smoothly taut down well past the waist of the shortalls. An adult-sized onesie, but in a kiddie print instead of the usual solid colors. “Oh.” Monserrat chuckled. “Not what I was expecting, but not necessarily a problem. I guess we should talk about what you want me to do?” Amira nodded. “It’s pretty easy to explain but let me know if you have any questions about the details. I want you to treat me like I’m a baby. Well, toddler, I guess. Watch me, give me stuff to play with, make a lunch for me, all the regular babysitting stuff.” “You want to do it like make-believe?” Monserrat asked. “Should I babytalk you? Are you going to babytalk?” “Yeah.” Amira said with another blush, and a little squirm. Said squirm was accompanied by a suspicious rustle from Amira’s rather bulky rear. “Are you wearing a diaper?” Monserrat asked, amused. “Yes, but uh, you don’t have to deal with that part if you don’t want to.” Amira said, blushing even more. “Of course, I do.” Monserrat said, taking Amira’s hand to the other girl’s surprise. “If you’re too little to be potty trained, you’re going to need some help, aren’t you?” “Yeah, but I don’t really use them…” Amira began. “Come on sweetie.” Monserrat interrupted, leading Amira into the living room. She had over a foot on the other girl, and her frame was a lot bigger from the basketball and volleyball workouts. It made it easy for her to slip into the game. From Amira’s expression she was getting into it too, but still had some reservations. “You can call me Monchi.” Monserrat said, manhandling Amira down to a sitting position on the carpet. “We’re going to have a lot of fun today, okay?” Amira giggled, squirming as embarrassment and delight warred on her face. “Okay Monchi. I wanna watch TV.” “Hmm, maybe in a bit.” Monserrat said. “Let’s get to know each other a little bit first and do some coloring. If you’re a good girl, we can watch an episode of something after lunch.” “But I want to watch Octonauts!” Amira pouted. It would have been cute except for the more adult expression of annoyance in her eyes. “Creature Report!” Monserrat said, crouching down by Amira and grabbing her sides. “Creature report! We have encountered a fussy baby. Check, Check, Check!” She dug her fingers in lightly, tickling Amira under her ribs. “Ack, hey!” Amira giggled helplessly. She briefly batted at Monserrat’s hands but fell back as the tickling overwhelmed her. “Creature Report, tickling seems to improve the baby’s mood, check, check, check!” Monserrat grinned, relenting on the tickling. She stroked Amira’s belly gently, while sneaking her other hand up the leg of the shortalls. Amira was clearly caught off guard, lying on the floor with a happy grin until Monserrat dug her fingers deftly under the crotch of her diaper. The little girl squeaked and blushed until her face was several shades darker. Amira froze on the carpet, staring at Monserrat with wide eyes. “Seems like you’re still dry, good girl!” Monserrat said excitedly. She made it more than a perfunctory check, sweeping her fingers across the bulky padding toward the back. Amira was wearing a real diaper, just sized up a bit for an adult. It otherwise felt exactly like what the actual babies she’d sat had been wearing. “If you can behave and stay dry until after lunch, we’ll watch Octonauts for sure.” Monserrat withdrew her fingers and hauled the smaller girl into a sitting position. Amira didn’t answer right away. Monserrat watched her carefully. She needed a good review from her first client, after all. The other girl was trembling a little, but she didn’t look upset. Her breath was coming fast, and her eyes were dilated. She kept her eyes on Monserrat but refused to meet her babysitter’s yes. She’s turned on by this. Really turned on. Monserrat grinned. This was going to be fun after all. Teasing had always been something she’d enjoyed doing in the bedroom. Now she was going to get paid for it. Monserrat stretched and deliberately grabbed her chest, hefting her breasts. “Are you staring at these, baby? They’re big, huh?” Amira jerked her eyes up to meet Monserrat’s in the horniest panic the babysitter had ever seen. “Sorry, I can’t feed you the same way your mommy does, but if you need a snack, I can get one started. Do you want a snack, Mira? Huh? Snackies?” Even through her bra, Amira’s nipples were clearly visible. She nodded. “Use your words, sweetie.” Monserrat said, patting Amira’s tightly curled hair. “Do you want a snack?” “Y-yes pwease.” Amira said, shuddering. “Good girl! Find something to color, I’ll be back in a bit.” Monserrat beamed. She put a coloring book and a small pack of crayons into Amira’s hands before making her way to the kitchen. There were a variety of items set out on the counter. A baby bottle was present, but so was a sippy cup. There was a child-safe bowl and an oversized kid’s spork as well. Monserrat wondered if Amira hadn’t been able to decide how young she wanted to pretend to be, or if she had been worried that her escort wouldn’t be willing to take the game to a certain level. I bet it’s the second one, Monserrat thought. A search of the cupboards and fridge didn’t yield and baby formula. Monserrat resolved to bring some herself if Amira hired her again. She’d certainly be able to afford extras like that with the rates on the app. There was milk, at least, which Monserrat put in a saucepan to warm. While she waited, she peeked into the living room to see how her baby was doing. Amira was lying on her stomach, coloring away. Monserrat grinned. I should have gone for an even more baby activity, She thought. Maybe after lunch and the show. Her phone dinged, letting her know that it was time to text Clarissa. She shot off a quick, ‘all clear’ message and put her phone away. Monserrat tested the bottle full of warm milk on her wrist to make sure it wasn’t too hot. If Amira was going to commit to the role, she certainly was as well. “Snack time!” Monserrat said brightly, sitting down next to Amira. Amira looked at the bottle. Another big blush crossed her cheeks. Then she shook her head. “I want chips.” “That’s not a good snack for a baby!” Monserrat declared dramatically. “Does your other babysitter let you eat those?” Amira rolled her eyes. Monserrat could feel the other girl sipping out of the game. “Just get me some chips.” She said, sourly. Monserrat brought her hand down to swat Amira’s bottom. The thick diaper made a satisfying POW sound. Amira stared at Monserrat in disbelief. “There’s more where that came from, little girl.” Monserrat said firmly. “Now come here so I can give you your bottle.” Contritely, Amira crawled over to Monserrat. She seemed a lot more into the game again. So, she likes it when I take charge, or discipline her, Monserrat thought. I can do that. I’ll have to give her opportunities to misbehave. In short order Monserrat was braced against the couch with Amira lying on her lap. She had an arm firmly around the smaller girl, with Amira’s ear pressed against her breast. Monserrat could feel Amira’s heart pounding through the embrace as she lowered the bottle to the girl’s lips. It was clearly a new, or at least unusual experience for Amira. She inexpertly sucked on the bottle, spattering milk on her cheeks and swallowing air. Though she quickly tried to squirm out of Monserrat’s hold or turn her face away, Monserrat held firm. “Sit still little girl. You’re making yourself such a messy baby.” Monserrat said, relentlessly guiding the bottle’s nipple into Amira’s mouth. Though she never stopped squirming, Amira resigned herself enough that she didn’t try to dodge the bottle anymore. She still swallowed air or spit a bit of milk up onto her cheeks. Every time she did, she’d blush some more. It was adorable. As the bottle was finishing, Monserrat caught Amira sneaking a hand down her shortalls, rubbing at the crotch of her diaper. She took the bottle out of Amira’s mouth and grabbed her arm. “Bad baby! No playing with your diaper. You’re going to make a really big mess!” Amira squirmed, “But I…” “No, I don’t want to hear it.” Monserrat said, lightly swatting Amira’s hand. She spat on a washcloth and rubbed the milk off Amira’s lips and cheeks in a businesslike fashion. Unable to hide her state any longer, Amira moaned and reached for her crotch again. Monserrat grabbed the girl’s wrists and pulled Amira up to sit straddled on her left thigh. “Uh oh, feeling too full? Is that it, baby girl?” Monserrat lightly bounced Amira on her thigh, still holding her wrists pinned. Amira gasped and moaned again. “Oh, Monchi, please, just let me… oooh… BRAP.” A massive burp sounded out of Amira as the air she’d swallowed was released. Her face froze in an expression of embarrassed horror. Monserrat kept on bouncing Amira on her leg as if nothing had happened. “That’s it baby, let it all out. That’s a good girl.” Amira struggled weakly at the hold on her wrists, hiding her face in her shoulder. Her moans were getting louder, all pretense of subtlety abandoned. A few smaller burps escaped, prompting an embarrassed wince every time. Monserrat bounced the girl until her skin was just starting to shine with sweat and her moans were coming fast and desperate. Abruptly, she stopped and lowered Amira onto her back on the carpet. “What? No, no, don’t stop!” Amira whined. “We’re all done burping you.” Monserrat said. “But you look a little bit hot. Let’s get baby cooled off.” She firmly set Amira’s arms over her head and unbuckled the girl’s shortalls. While Amira writhed in frustration on the floor, Monserrat peeled her shortalls off and popped open the crotch snaps of the girl’s onesie. This time she was even less subtle about the diaper check, hooking her fingers into the rumpled crotch of the Amira’s Rearz diaper. It was more than damp, but not exactly wet. Monserrat pulled the onesie up while Amira was distracted and arching her hips up. It was a bit of a tussle to get it over the girl’s shoulders and head, but the principle was the same as with a wiggly toddler. Amira panted, looking at Monserrat, now in just her bra and diaper. “What are you going to do?” “I’m just making sure you’re comfortable, sweetie.” Monserrat said. “Looks like you got into Mommy’s bras, no wonder you’re all sweaty.” Brooking no disagreement from Amira, Monserrat unsnapped the bra and tossed it on the couch. “There you go, babies don’t need to wear those.” “Please.” Amira said. “Please…” “Please what, sweetie? What do you need?” Monserrat rubbed gentle circles on Amira’s bare belly. She was a beautiful girl, her small breasts heaving and perky. Monserrat was beginning to wonder how strict she wanted to be about the no-sex rule she’d established. “Please.” Amira begged. “I need. I… I need to cum. Please.” “Oh no!” Monserrat said with a vicious grin. “That would be a SUPER good girl reward. You haven’t exactly been bad, but you have been fussy.” “But…” A whine that was almost a cry came out of Amira. “Oh dear, are you getting overwhelmed, sweetie?” Monserrat gathered Amira up, pleased to discover that she could lift the smaller girl without having to make a huge show of effort. She sat them both on the couch, Amira on her lap facing forward. “Let’s watch your show, okay?” Monserrat put an arm around Amira, carefully settling her hand just below Amira’s breasts. She felt the girl stiffen and then snuggle back into her as she turned on the TV. “This isn’t how I thought we would play.” Amira said. Interestingly, she reached for her diaper but pulled her hands away with a guilty expression, before Monserrat had to admonish her. “No? Am I a bad babysitter?” Monserrat asked quietly into Amira’s ear. “No, you’re a good babysitter.” Amira said breathlessly. “Is baby Amira having a good time?” Monserrat asked, shifting her hand up onto Amira’s breast. “Ahh! Yes Monchi.” “What a good girl.” Monserrat squeezed Amira’s breast gently before sliding her hand away. “But you still want your super good girl reward, don’t you?” “Yes please!” Amira squirmed against Monserrat until the larger girl had to hold her tightly to keep her on the lap. “Silly baby, you know that your babysitter isn’t going to take your diaper off until you’ve used it. Your mommy would be very upset if I wasted the diapers she bought.” A gasp interrupted Amira’s now-constant whining. “I don’t… really use them though.” “Sure you do.” Monserrat said. “I don’t see a practice-potty around here anywhere. You’re telling me you’ve never peed in your diapers?” “Ju-just once.” Amira whispered. “And how did that feel?” Monserrat asked. Amira couldn’t answer that one. She squirmed again until Monserrat had to hold her with both arms. “You know what I think?” Monserrat asked. “I think you’re just pretending to be a big girl. Of course you’ve pottied in your diapers more than once. Let’s watch your show. Don’t worry, babysitter Monchi will change you when you need it.” As the Octonauts theme song played, Amira calmed down a little. She even started sucking her thumb as the show progressed. Despite her outward calm, Monserrat could feel the girl’s heartbeat and the warm glow on her skin. Baby’s motor was still running pretty hot. The more turned on she was, the more she seemed to want to act like a baby. On the other hand, Amira didn’t seem to be able to commit to the role fully. That makes sense, Monserrat thought. This is our first scene together. It would be hard to relax. Determined to get Amira the best experience she could, Monserrat gently engaged her about the show, asking her questions about the characters and the sea-creature of the week. She lightly stroked Amira’s body while they watched, soothing her without letting her wind down her desire too much. It seemed to work, Amira’s responses to questions became much more babyish. As the show was wrapping up with a creature report, Amira suddenly became very squirmy again. “What’s the matter sweetie?” Monserrat asked, tightening her grip on the girl. “Nu-nothing.” Amira said. “I wanna get up.” “Oh?” Monserrat asked with a mischievous grin. “Just wait a bit hon, we’re almost done with the show.” She shifted her grip to firmly hold Amira over her bladder. “Ugh, Monchi, don’t!” “Don’t what, baby?” “I hafta… I hafta…” “What hon?” Monserrat pushed down more firmly on Amira’s diaper. “No! I gotta, Monchi, pwease!” Amira thrashed, only to be caught tight in Monserrat’s strong grip. “You have to tell me what it is, or I can’t help you.” “POTTY!” Amira cried out. It was too late. Monserrat felt the girl sag in her arms. Shifting her hand to Amira’s crotch, she felt warmth in the diaper as it expanded. “Oh, you should have said something before, we could have tried getting to the potty.” Monserrat said, kissing Amira on the temple. “Don’t worry baby, I’ll take care of you.” Monserrat lay Amira on the floor. The girl had an unreadable mix of emotions on her face. She wasn’t getting up or trying to do anything with her diaper, and by the looks of it she was still filling it. Next to the shelf of toys was a very well stocked chest with changing supplies. Monserrat returned to Amira, her heart melting when she saw tears in the girl’s eyes. “Uh oh, I think baby wasn’t being honest with me.” Monserrat said, unrolling the changing blanket. “Look at all this diaper changing stuff your mommy has for you.” She scooted Amira onto the changing blanket and dabbed away the tears in her eyes as tenderly as she could. For a few moments she just sat and watched Amira’s face, stroking her hair. “Are you alright, Mira?” “I pottied.” Amira said, something like fear or sadness in her voice. “That’s okay. Babies use their diapers for potty.” Monserrat hesitated for a bit. Deliberately, she leaned down and kissed Amira’s lips. “You’re a good girl Amira.” Monserrat whispered, looking into Amira’s eyes from mere inches away. “I am?” Amira trembled, flushing with desire again. “A very good girl.” Monserrat grinned slyly and cupped Amira’s breast with one hand. “An especially, extra, SUPER good girl.” Amira’s eyes went wide. She shivered, nodding eagerly at Monserrat. “Good girl get reward?” “That’s right. You’re my very good girl.” Monserrat firmly grabbed the crotch of Amira’s diaper, squishing it. Amira whimpered, closing her eyes. “Here you go baby.” Monserrat pressed a set of interlocking plastic rings into Amira’s hands. “Be a good girl while I change you.” Amira giggled nervously and put one of the rings in her mouth. Monserrat slid her hands slowly down Amira’s body, tearing the tapes open on the girl’s diaper when her hands reached Amira’s waist. With all the meticulous care she’d give an actual baby, she cleaned Amira with a wet wipe. Amira was batting at the rings, moaning softly. Monserrat added a generous dollop of lotion to her hands and worked it slowly into Amira’s abdomen. Using the girl’s rising moans as a guide, she spread the lotion across Amira’s rear, her thighs, and finally onto the girl’s crotch. Sweaty and disheveled, Amira lay on the floor, surrendering to Monserrat. On a whim, Monserrat picked the girl’s ankles up, holding her legs up while she worked the lotion into the girl’s crotch. Amira arched her back, grabbing her breasts and moaning. The little girl’s breath came faster and faster with each deft circling motion of Monserrat’s fingers. The scream that Amira finally let loose was decidedly not babyish, but the thumb that went straight to her mouth was proof that the game had held. Monserrat found Amira limp and pliable as she powdered and then diapered the girl back up. She pulled the thick padding snug on Amira and made sure the tapes were set tight and firm. “It looks like you might need a nap, sweetie.” Monserrat said, brushing Amira’s sweaty forehead. Amira nodded. “Yes pwease.” “Okay, let’s get you tucked into bed.” Monserrat checked her phone. The session only had about fifteen minutes left. “By the time you wake up, your mommy should be back.” It took a while for that to register on Amira, but when it did, she focused a genuinely sad look on Monserrat. For a moment Monserrat considered extending the session, then clamped down on her puppy-dog-eyes induced guilt. “Will you come babysit me again?” Amira asked plaintively. “Of course, sweetie. You’re a good baby. You just need someone to remind you to be good sometimes, don’t you?” Monserrat smiled and patted Amira’s cheek. Her heart filled with warm fuzzy feelings when Amira nuzzled into the pat. “Yes Monchi. Thank you” Amira said. “Okay little one, let’s get you to bed.” Driving away, Monserrat tapped Clarissa’s contact on her phone. “Girl! I have been sitting here so damn curious! How did it go?” “It was really sweet actually. Like, I was surprised at the scene, but everything was legit. No hidden boyfriends or weird surprises.” “For real? No sex either?” “Uh, not exactly, no.” “Hah! I knew it was going to be a sex thing. Did you seriously…?” “No! Look, I’ll meet you for coffee and tell you all about it okay?” Monserrat laughed. “It was unusual all the way down.” “You buying?” “You better believe it. Payment already cleared to my account.” Monserrat said. “Dang, maybe I should get in on this.” Clarissa said. “Wait on that until I tell you what went down.” Monserrat said. “See you at the Black Drop?” “Be there in twenty!” Monserrat swiped the phone call off and smiled as her car rolled down the road. The road was gorgeous with about half the fall leaves on the trees still and the rest scattered across the sidewalks and lawns in a riot of colors. A notification popped up on her phone as Monserrat pulled into the coffee shop’s parking. She parked and thumbed it open. “I already have another job?” She said to herself in surprise. “Looks like the client is a guy but I’d be working with just his girlfriend? Ugh, it’s just like one of those Lyssa was warning me about.” She was about to reject the job when she saw a little star notification on the page. Touching it popped up a message. · You came highly recommended by a friend, Amira Hulbale. I’m hoping you’ll be willing to watch my girlfriend for an evening. Monserrat blinked at the message and chuckled. “I’m getting a reputation, I guess! Hmm, maybe I should add some stuff to my profile. These kinds of jobs are pretty fun.”

Next two conventions booked. Daddy and I are super excited to get back together with our babyfur friends. LOVE conventions and seeing everyone again ??

I’m looking for good, basic, crew neck, T-shirt style onesies. During the day, I need the support that a onesie brings, but want the look of a basic T-shirt. Don’t want to draw any unwanted attention. What have people found like this?

I only use them for #1. I still have bowel control and I didn't untrain myself for that. I hate messing my diapers. In practice, that's the main time I change my diaper is when I have to go #2, as my diapers are absorbent enough that I change before bed, change into a fresh one in the morning after waking up any my morning bowel movement, and if I need to go during the day, it would normally only be once and I change then. I've never got the hang of being able to pull down a taped-on diaper comfortably and reliably, it's why I was considering pullups for work diapers, as a way I could go #2 at work and not have to change. I worked hard to eradicate my daytime control though, potty untraining went so far, then hypnosis to help me completely ignore when I was wetting. I didn't just go for recordings, I hired an erotic hypnotist, and I told her I wanted to have the bladder control of an infant. I told her to give me the bladder control of a newborn child. She asked how permanent I wanted it, I told her I wanted it indefinite, but at least theoretically able for me to be re-trained one day. Several sessions later, I was noticing that my diaper would be soaked and I hadn't remembered wetting it, and that I never seem to notice when I wet anymore. She said I should be able to potty train again if I really want, but it would likely be time consuming and difficult. If I pay attention specifically to when I wet, I can notice it and clench it shut, so that's probably how I'd have to re-potty train. Yeah, I'm using disposables. I've tried cloth. One thing I've noticed is that cloth makes it much easier to notice when I'm wet. If I potty train, it will probably have to be in cloth so I'll help notice when I'm wetting. My job has pretty decent pay, so the cost of disposables isn't a huge issue for me though. Yeah, that is probably a good idea. Probably should order them now to have time to get them delivered and work out any glitches in the process and fit. My job pays well enough that the cost of diapers isn't a HUGE inconvenience. I mean, I'd save money being potty trained, but it wouldn't break me to stay diapered forever. I know retraining is possible, but it won't be easy. I suspect I'll never have close to the control I used to have and I'll probably be "accident prone" for life and might well permanently be a bedwetter. I could accept that. I knew that was a possible outcome when I started this. Basically I'm leaning towards retraining for daytime control, or at least enough control to make it to the toilet near my office, and wearing a pullup for daytime protection against accidents or if I'm too far from a toilet if I'm out and about as the world is reopened (like parties, weddings etc. as you noted), and being more fully padded at home and for bedtime. Incontinence actually is a documented symptom of "Long COVID" in the medical literature already. https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC8014136/ https://www.topdoctors.co.uk/medical-articles/do-covid-19-and-long-covid-affect-the-bladder-here-s-what-you-should-know https://aeroflowurology.com/blog/how-the-covid-19-pandemic-is-affecting-incontinence My workplace knows I had COVID in late 2020, I had to take a couple of weeks of sick leave due to it. "Long COVID" is the well-documented syndrome of people who have recovered from COVID and are now COVID-negative and non-contagious still having various chronic health problems due to damage to nerves and blood vessels within the body during the COVID infection. Since it's already well documented I was COVID-positive and took a couple of weeks of sick leave, and that incontinence in post-COVID patients is documented and not unknown (it's rare, to be sure, but it's common enough for the articles I posted there to be talking about it), writing off anyone noticing a diaper as incontinence due to "Long COVID" is something I'm thinking of going with. I wouldn't exactly boast about it, but if I get caught somehow, it's a ready explanation.

Scene 7 I looked at Tim sleeping and I became overwhelmed with love and sadness. He slept so peacefully, looking content and happy. Last night we had pre birthday sex and it was amazing. It was surprising vanilla too. We just held each other, did some intense kissing, a little petting, and a lot of penetration. Today is Tim's birthday. We are supposed to go out hiking, then dinner and drinks. That is what he wanted to do. I had planned out an amazing hike, dinner reservations at a rooftop bar overlooking the water. It was going to be fantastic. Then my boss texted me demanding I come in for a few hours. This is where the sadness comes in. How do I break it to him that I am going to miss the hike? He went above and beyond for my birthday yet I am skipping out on half of his. I know he will be upset. I know a way to make it up to him so it won't suck as much, but do I really want to do it? I am just not sure. After my birthday, we had a DTR. A DTR stands for "Defining The Relationship." We were pretty much on the same page. We loved each other. He was not seeing anyone else. He was the only man I was seeing and Claire was the only other person I was sexually active with. We also talked about limits and kinks. I had apologized for Brittany's antics during my birthday but he told me he didn't care. He liked the humiliation if he was being honest. He also talked about certain fantasies he would like to fulfull. One of them being diaper punishment or diaper bondage. On one hand, we kinda already did it. I did force him to wear a diaper to the movies. But I also liked that diapers weren't a significant part of our relationship. I watched him sleep as I worked through my options. Option 1 was essentially wake him up, give him his birthday spankings, then break the bad news and leave for half the day. Option 2 was to wake him up, diaper him, give him his birthday spankings, put his locking diaper cover on him, potentially even the mittens, and leave him in his apartment while I went to work. I know he would love it, but then would he expect it again. He already intentionally was a brat at times to get a reaction. I didn't want it to get worse. I looked in Tim's closet and quietly opened up his trunk. Right on top was his diaper cover. At first glance, it just looked like a pair of pink shorts. However, unlike a normal pair of shorts, these had a heavy duty strap looped through the waistband, with holes to connect the heavy duty crotch strap, and a weird looking black lock that secured everything together. In addition, each pants leg had a heavy duty strap to ensure a tight fit that also was designed to be secured with the small circular black lock. There was also a d-ring on each side of the waist. I picked up the diaper cover to reveal a pink unicorn diaper underneath it. Damn, Tim really loves pink. I grabbed the diaper cover and diaper and placed it to the side of the trunk. I quietly searched the trunk until I found the mittens also. These were made of similar material to the diaper cover. They also had the same lock. I put my hand in to the glove just to see what it felt like. The first thing I noticed were the gloves forced my hands in to a fist. All my dexterity was gone. I now understood what Tim meant when he said said he had to use a sippy cup when wearing these. It was decision time. I had about an hour to get to the office. That was more than enough time to wake, diaper, spank, enforce, kiss, and leave. But it also didn't leave a lot of time left either. Fuck it, Tim made my birthday special and I was going to make his special as well. Or at least as special as I could since I couldn't get out of work. I grabbed everything from the trunk including the keys to the lock along with some baby powder and brought it all in to Tim's bedroom. I placed everything in the corner of the room and put a pillow in front in an effort to hide the items. I got on the bed and mounted Tim. I gently started kissing him and rubbing his hair. "Wakey wakey birthday boy" I gently cooed. Tim slowly opened his eyes and looked at the clock. "It is 7:00am" He said in a scratchy voice of someone who clearly didn't want to get up. "You can go back to bed in a few" I told him. "But first get up and go brush your teeth." "Huh?" Tim said. Tim did a kipping motion throwing me off him and rolled over in an attempt to go back to sleep. I remounted him and started tickling him since my most recent attempt was unsuccessful. "Stop that!" Tim moaned. "Ok. Ok. I am getting up." Tim got out of bed wearing nothing but his boxers. He stumbled in to the bathroom and closed the door. I heard the toilet flush along with his electric toothbrush buzzing before he came out about four minutes later. "What's up?" He asked. "Lay on the bed, no talking or arguing" I told him. "Ok" he said still trying to wake up. Tim laid on the bed. I went over to the corner and retrieved the diaper and baby powder. I walked over to the bed, pulled off his boxers and unfolded the diaper. "Hips ups" I told him. "What are you doing?" He asked me still a litle bit groggy "What does it look like. I am diapering you." He lifted his hips up and I slid the diaper underneath him. He lowered his hips on the diaper. I picked up the baby powder and liberally applied it all over his groin area. I folded the diaper to his waist taping the bottom left and bottom right tapes to the landing strip of the diaper. I adjusted the waistband of Tim's diaper and taped the top tapes to the landing strip as well. "Tiff, don't get me wrong. This is great and all but whats up?" Tim asked me. "Whats up is you're getting your birthday spankings" I told him. "I figured you would appreciate a little padding" I sat down on the bed and positioned Tim across my knee. I spanked him 33 times. 32 because that is how old he was turning and one to grow on. Every spank made a loud oomph sound as I hit the diaper. The diaper was so thick I honestly don't think Tim felt really anything as I used my hand and not a paddle. I let Tim off my lap and looked at him as he stood in front of me in nothing but a pink diaper. "Now I want you to do a few things without arguing....ok" I asked him. "Umm.....ok" Tim replied. I went in to the corner of the room and grabbed his pink mittens. I walked over to him and slid it on his left hand tightening the strap. I secured the lock to the mittens. "Why are you doing this?" he asked with nervousness in his voice. "Shush. Remember. No arguing. Keep it up and I might have to buy a pacifier" I teased him. I did the same for his right hand making sure the mittnes were on nice and tight. I looked at my boyfriend standing in a pink diaper and pink mittens. I had mixed feelings. On one hand, this is what he wants and I hope he was enjoying it. On the other hand, it was a bit surreal. I went to the corner and got the diaper cover. I loosened the waist and pants legs. "Come over here and step in" I told him. "Tiff we don't have to do this" Tim nervously said. "You're going to do it Tim. Quit arguing with me on this." I told him a bit frustrated as time was ticking away. Tim reluctantly came over and stepped in to the diaper cover as I held it out. I slid it up his legs and tightened the waist strap. Before locking the waist strap I made sure that the waistband of the diaper peaked out from the diaper cover. I then tightened the leg straps and locked those as well making sure the leak guards peaked out of the diaper cover. While I was positioning the pants legs I felt pressure on the front of the diaper cover. I rubbed the front of Tim's diaper and gave it a gentle pat. "My my someone is obviously turned on." I told him. "Let me out of this and I will show you how turned on I am" Tim said. "So about that." I said. "I have to go to work" I started. "But I thought we were going hiking!" Tim asked. "We were. But I can't help it. So instead, you're going to sit here all hot and bothered for a bit while I go and get some work done. I promise I will make it up to you when I get back" I told him. "You can't leave me here like this!" Tim said. "Sure I can." I told him. "The only question I have is do you want me to clip those d-rings together on your mittens so your hands are behind your back or connect the mitten d-rings to the diaper cover d-rings keeping your hands side by side. Tim didn't answer me for thirty seconds. I made an executive decision and secured each hand to their respective d-ring on the diaper cover. I gave Tim a few patts on the butt and started walking to the door. "Tiff I don't want to be left like this." Tim said as earnestly as he could. "Tim I have to go to work baby" I told him. "I am trying to make lemondade out of lemons." I told him. "I know Tiff. But I can't be left alone like this" he said. I didn't know what to do. I had to go but Tim was telling me he wasn't comfortable with this. I had to salvage the day. I sat there thinking for a minute and came up with an idea. "I will get you a babysitter!" I said. "What!?! No!" Tim said. I picked up my phone pressing Claire's contact on my phone. "Sup Chika?" Claire answered. "Is Brittany there?" I asked. "Yea she is right here" "Can I speak with her" I asked. "Sure" Claire responded. "Hello?" Brittany answered. "Hey, its Tiff" I said. "Oh hey Tiff. What's up" Brittany asked. "I am in a bit of a jam and was wondering if you could help me out." "Sure what do you need." Brittany asked. "I need someone to babysit Tim for a few hours while I go to work" I told her. "You're asking me to babysit Tim. Seriously?" Brittany asked. "Yes. I will pay you of course." I told her. I heard Brittany's voice perk up. "Really!?!" She asked. "Yea how much" I asked her. "$25 an hour is what I usually charge for babysitting." she said. "Great I will pay you 30" I told her. "Can you come over to Tim's apartment? I need to leave right now so you will have to let yourself in" I told her. "Sure. Is he in diapers?" "Yea. He has a diaper on. Just keep him entertained. If he has an accident change him. Nothing too crazy" "Tiff!! Come on. This is not what I meant" Tim whined. "Hold on Brittany." I told her. I put the phone down while looking at Tim. I had the pissed off look on my face. "If you don't shush Tim, I really will get you a pacifier. Now calm down or I will have her spank you" I told him. I put the phone back up to my ear. "Sorry Brittany. I had to work something out with Tim" I told her. "Get a pacifier and spank him if he is naughty. I got it" she said. "I will be there in twenty minutes" "Great. I will leave the door unlocked" I hung up the phone and went over to Tim. I kissed him on the cheek and gave him a patt on the butt. I still can't resist a diapered butt. "I will be back in a few hours. Brittany should be here in less than twenty minutes. Happy Birthday and I love you!" I told him as I walked out the door. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - I stood in shock as Tiff walked out the door. I didn't think she would actually go through with this. On one hand, this was the ultimate fantasy. On the other hand, what the fuck! I can't do anything. I tried to move my hands but they were securely fastened to my hips. I also had to pee again. I was hungry, thirsty, and cold. Tiff left me in a nothing but a diaper and a diaper cover. There was nothing I could do about any of it. I was completely helpless. I went over to the couch to sit down. I tried to turn the TV on but with the mittens and my hands not moving it was impossible. I just sat on the couch focusing on not peeing my diaper. After about 15 minutes, I couldn't hold it anymore and just peed. I felt the warmth of the pee as it was absorbed in the diaper along with the diaper getting even larger. This was just fucking great. To top it all off, now I am sitting in a wet diaper. I looked down to see if the diaper leaked but of course it didn't. Tiff knew how to effectively diaper someone and this was proof. I sat in the wet diaper for about another 10 minutes when I heard the door open. I looked up as Claire walked in. Claire came in and put her purse and bag on the kitchen counter and stared at me wiht this big shit eating grin. "Wow!! Tiff wasn't joking when she said you need a babysitter!" Claire said. "You lok totally helpless" "Not funny Claire!" I said. "Let me out of this! I am freezing, hungry, and I wet myself." Claire walked over to me and started examing the diaper cover. She tried to reach her fingers down the waistband but couldn't. She grabbed one of the mittens attached to the diaper cover and examined them. She also gave me a patt on the butt as she assessed my diaper. "You really love pink don't you!" she joked. Brittany looked me over again. One thing at a time I guess" she cooed. "Where are your clothes and a fresh diaper?" "Just let me out" I demanded. "It's up to you. Brittany told me. You can sit here shivering in a wet diaper or you can answer my questions" "Diapers are in the trunk along with the key to let me out." I told her. "I can show you what clothes I want." "Nope. I will take care of it." Brittany firmly told me. Brittany left the living room and went to the closet. I heard her moving stuff eventually coming back after a few minutes. In her hands she was holding a diaper, some baby powder, and onsie. Oh god! She found the onsie! She was going to put me in a damn onsie. I started struggling. What I was going to do, I had no idea. But it made sense at the time. Brittany came back to the living room and placed everything on the ground. "Come lay on the ground" she said. "I don't want to wear that!" I exclaimed. "I want to wear other clothes." "It is too much. It makes it easier to change you" Brittany said. "Besides you dont' really have a choice. Please don't make me ask again" I laid down on the floor. Brittany unlatched both my hands from the diaper cover's d-ring. She pulled the red magnetic key to the diaper cover out of her pocket and unlocked the waist strap along with the leg straps. She proceeded to pull the diaper cover completely off. She unfolded the new diaper. "Hips up birthday boy" I arched my hips as she slid a fresh diaper underneath me. She quickly and efficiently untaped the soiled diaper and pulled it out from my hips. She rolled it in to a ball and taped it closed. Brittany grabbed a wipe and cleaned my groin area and applied close to a pound of baby powder to my groin. She folded the diaper up to my waist and taped both sides. "Whats the point of the diaper cover if you're wearing the gloves?" she asked me. "I guess Tiff wanted to be extra caution. I don't fucking know" I said. Brittany looked at me and frowned. She grabbed the onsie pulled it over my head as I struggled to fit my arms through the sleeves with the large mittens. I eventually got it though and Brittany snapped the bottom snaps on the onsie. She grabbed the diaper cover and left me lying on the floor. "Where are you going?" I asked her. "To put this back" Brittany declared. "There is no point. It will just make it that much harder to change you. Besides, if you mess with your diaper at all you will regret it." "You mean you're not going to let me out of these!?!" I said while looking at the mittens. "Of course not Tim!" Brittany said. "I was hired to baby sit you. I have to listen to Tiff's demands." Brittany came back in to the living room. She walked in to the kitchen and grabbed something from her purse. It was a long piece of ribbon with a clip on one end and a pacifier on the other. "Fuck that!" I said. "No god damn way" I said. "Tim, while I am watching you there will be no cussing." Brittany warned me. "Tiff already told me to spank you if you misbehave." Brittany walked over to me and clipped the pacifier to the onsie. She then put the pacifier in my mouth. "Leave that in there until I tell you otherwise" she told me. "Now we need to get some food in that belly" Brittany walked in to the kitchen and started going through the fridge and pantry. She pulled out some eggs and toast and quickly made some scrambled eggs and toast. She brought two plates to the kitchen table and motioned for me to come sit down. I sat down next to her. "How do you expect me to eat?" I asked her "I admit it is easier if they are in a high chair but I know how to feed a baby" Brittany said. "Do you have a bib?" "No I don't have a f" I stopped in mid sentence. I didn't want to push Brittany. "Lucky for you I have one" Brittany laughed. "And a bottle" Brittany got up and retrieved a bib and bottle from her bag. She filled the bottle up with juice from the fridge and brought it over to the table. She put the bib around me and placed the bottle besides me. Brittany took a bite of her food. She then scooped up some egg on a fork. "Open up for the airplane!" she teased. She brought the fork to my mouth. I was starving so I opened my mouth as she deposited the food inside of it. She continued to feed me like a baby for about twenty minutes. We finished our breakfast with about 90% of the food in my stomach and 10% on my face. As much as I hate to admit it, the bottle was handy because I was able to drink it on my own. Brittany got up and came back with a wet wash cloth and cleaned my face. She remmoved the bib and motioned for me to go to the couch. "I am going to put on a show for you while I clean up in here" she told me. I walked over to the couch while Brittany turned on some cartoon. "I am not a fucking baby!!" I screamed. Before I could even realize what was happening I found myself over Brittany's knee. SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK My butt was on fire. How the hell did she do that. Even when Tiff paddled me it didn't hurt this bad. "I was hired to watch you. You better figure it out or things will get even worse" Brittany warned me. SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK I started crying. I couldn't help it. My butt was on fire. "Please stop. I promise I will be good" I cried. SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK SPANK I flailed across Brittany's lap sobbing. She finally let me up and walked me to the corner. She grabbed both my hands and put them behind my back. I heard a click as I heard her attach the mittens together securing my hands behind my back. "Keep your nose in that corner and your hands above your butt. If you so much as move a muscle the next spanking will make the first one seem like a picnic." I heard Brittany go back in to the kitchen as the sink turned on. She spent what felt like 20 minutes cleaning up the kitchen and doing dishes but I had no idea. I didn't dare look at the clock or move. I could not handle another spanking. I heard her come up to me and felt her stick her finger in between the legs of my diaper. "Hey!!" I said. "Just doing a diaper check" Brittany told me. "You have a tendency to pee your diaper when you get a spanking" "No I don't!!" I whined. "You ready to come out and try again to be good." She asked me. "Yes" I mumbled. Brittany let me out of the corner and I went and sat on the couch. Brittany walked over and turned the cartoon she originally selected back on. This time I didn't say a word. She handed me the bottle. "Can you behave while I go to the potty?" she asked me "Knock yourself out" I told her. Brittany left the living room. My butt was on fire and as such I kept shifting. Even diapered, that was the worse spanking I had ever received. I would feel it for at least a few days. I watched the cartoon and drank the bottle. It was filled with gatorade from the fridge. I drank heavily from it not realizing how thirsty I was from all the drama of the day. Brittany walked out of the bathroom a few minutes later and came over to me. She grabbed the bottle and shook it. "Almost empty. Let me top you off" she said. She went in to the kitchen and refilled the bottle. She brought it back to me and I drank that as well. I knew it was going to result in me filling my diaper but I couldn't help it. I was very thirsty. "Do you want me to put on a movie?" Brittany asked. "Yea. Anything besides these cartoons" I told her. "Since it is your birthday I will let you pick" she told me. "Monty Python. It is on Netflix" I told her. Brittany turned on the movie while I sat on the couch. Rather than joining me for the movie she sat at the table reading a book. About half way through the movie I couldn't hold it any more and wet my diaper. "I need a change" I told Brittany. "After the movie" she told me. I wanted to argue with her but I knew it was a lost cause. Whatever. I love Monty Python and it means I wouldn't have to pause it anwyay. I continued watching the movie and right as it finished I look up to see the door opening and Tiff walking in. - - - - - - - - - I walked in to the apartment. I don't know what I was expecting but what I saw was Tim on the couch watching a movie and Brittany reading a book in the kitchen. That wasn't all that odd. What was odd was Tim was wearing a different outfit. I looked closer and saw that he was wearing a onsie. A full on onsie with the snaps at the crotch for an easy diaper change. He also had a pacifier clipped to it as well. I definitely didn't leave him like that. "Hey Brittany" I told her as I put my stuff down in the kitchen. "Hey Tiff. How was work?" She asked me. "Bullshit. I never should of even had to go in" I replied. "How was Tim?" "He wasn't too bad." Brittany replied. "Really!?!" I responded in surprise. "I am shocked" "He definitely tested his boundaries in the beginning. I spanked him and that seemed to clear up any issues" Brittany responded. "Why is he dressed like this?" I asked. "He was cold and needed clothes. He had the onsie so I put him in it to make diaper changes easier." "I didn't realize he had this." I told her. "Yea. I gave him the pacifier but the onsie is all him" Brittany responded. "Speaking of diaper changes, he probably is due for one" "Ok. I will change him after I take a shower." I told her. I reached in my purse and pulled out $90 dollars. I gave it to Brittany and she pocketed the money and stood up to leave. "Thank you!!" Brittany said. "Please let me know if you need a babysitter ever again?" "You sure?" I asked. "You were ok doing this?" "I changed two diapers. Big woop. Keep me in mind next time" 'Will do' I said. Brittany left and I turned my attention to Tim. I walked over and gave him a hug on the couch. He turned to look at me but only partially. He was clearly engrossed in his movie. I turned off the TV and finally got his full attention. "You have a good time?" I asked him. "Not exactly how I planned today to go but it wasn't that bad" Tim replied. "Brittany told me she had to spank you." I said. Tim looked at me a bit sheepishly. He nodded but didn't say anything. "Want to tell me what happened?" I asked him. "These mitts make it where she had to feed me!" Tim exclaimed. "I got mad and started cussing. She warned me about it but I guess I didn't pay attention" "Not good Tim" I told him. "Trust me. I payed for it. She spanks HARD" he told me. "Good to know." I said. "I am going to go shower and change. Then we can spend the rest of the day together" "Good!" he said. "Let me out of these damn things so I can change" he told me. I looked down at his onsie and noticed he wasn't wearing his diaper cover. "Where is your diaper cover?" I asked him. "Brittany took it off since I couldn't do anything about the diaper with the mitts on" I unsnapped his onsie and felt his diaper. He could use a change but he wasn't going to leak either. "I am going to take a shower real quick and then we can figure out what to do about you" "What the fuck Tiff" he whined. I glared at him. I grabbed the pacifier hanging off his onsie and popped it in to his mouth. "Suck on this and think carefully about how you speak to me." I warned him. I got up and went in to the bedroom. I stripped out of my clothes and hopped in to the shower. I was in a bad mood. I needed to get over it. I was supposed to be my day off but instead I went in to work. It was all pointless just a powerplay from the CFO. The hot water hit my body creating a calming effect that was much needed. I applied the soap all over my body and washed it off hopefully washing off all the baggage the day had brought. I was determined to give Tim a good birthday. Hopefully he enjoyed the time with his babysitter. I couldn't believe I actually hired a babysitter for my boyfriend. I hopped out of the shower and dried off. I felt refreshed and excited to spend the rest of the day making sure Tim knew how special he was. I looked at my watch and we could still do a small hike before we went to dinner. I quickly dressed and walked out to the living room. Tim was sitting on the couch. He had taken the pacifier out so hopefully that meant his attitude and deameanor would be a little better. "We still have time to go for a hike. Would you like to do that?" I asked Tim. "Yea that would be amazing!" He responded. "Ok. Be honest with me." I told him. "I can keep you diapered and you stay that way for the rest of the day or we just go back to normal for the rest of the day. You decide" I saw the wheels turning in his head and the uncertainty. If I was reading him correctly, he wanted to stay diapered but he was worried what I was thinking. I figured I would make it easy for him. I grabbed the pacifier and put it in his mouth. "If you can't even answer a simple question, guess I will just have to decide for you." I cooed to him in a sing song voice I walked over to his closet and grabbed a fresh diaper, some baby powder, and the diaper cover. I stood up to go back to Tim remembering I would need the key to actually get the diaper cover on him so I retrived that as well. I walked back to Tim and guided him to the floor. I unsnapped the buttons around his crotch on the onsie. I unfolded the diaper and slid it under his butt. I quickly untaped the soiled diaper and cleaned him up with the available wipes. I rolled the used diaper in to a ball and taped it shut. I then liberally applied a lot of baby powder to his groin area and pulled the diaper over his groin and taped it shut. I grabbed the diaper cover and slid it over his diaper. I made sure it was a snug fit and secured the lock to the diaper cover. I got off my knees, unlocked the mittens pulling them off his hands. "Go get some clothes on. We leave in 5" I told him. I gave him a swat on his well padded butt as he ran in to the bedroom to get some clothes. "We don't have to do the diaper cover Tiff." Tim said as he walked in to the bedroom. While Tim got dressed I filled some water bottles up for the hike and got ready to leave. I threw a few diapers in my purse along with some wipes. As I laid my purse down by the door I noticed the pacifier and clip sitting on the table. I threw that in my purse as well. Tim walked out a few minutes later all dressed and ready to go. "Can you take the diaper cover off now please" Tim asked me. "Nope." I told him. "Why not!" Tim said. "I don't want to argue about it Tim. Let's go" I told him. Tim stomped his foot down. I gave him the look. "Do I need to go get the paddle?" I asked him in a firm tone. "No" Tim said very quietly. "Then lets go" I told him. Tim turned and walked out the door. I grabbed my purse and followed him out.

Well I guess I should say something here...I'm a big baby boy who needs his diapers

Well, you COULD just lean into it and, using the very-long-time-since-co-workers-have-contemplated-your-butt-metrics gap, resume office life diapered. In 2018, I went off on a few weeks Christmas break. In early 2019, I returned to the office, in diapers. Nobody noticed a thing. I was lucky. I was early in my 24/7 days, still leaking like a sieve and learning the practicalities of being diapered. STILL, nobody noticed a thing (I wore black pants). I quickly realised that a high quality, high capacity diaper under Gary PUL pants and under a black “compression” pant was practically invisible and a super-nappy could go all day without me needing to change (which further helped things being invisible). Eventually, COVID killed my job and career but that was 18 months later. I found another (very different) job. I was diapered for the interview and have been diapered for the last 11 months I’ve been working there in a physically active role. As others have pointed out, a dirty diaper would be a bit of a game changer but if we’re talking “wet only”, my experience is that this is completely possible – including corporate travel. Nobody has EVER seemingly noticed that I’m the one who never uses the office bathroom. At the end of the day, if you think that nappiest will be happiest, I think you have an awesome inflection point to make that switch.

Station That made my evening. Thanks!

Embrace it. Don't go the pull-up route -- get a good full-on disposable diaper that will handle the load and don't worry about it until you can change at home. You'll be much happier that way. Oh... and always make sure you have plastic pants over the whole thing. They will kill any noise you generate and give you that extra baby feeling. It's oh so good.

I like Tykables, but sadly they are not available in most of Europe. I have 2, but I would buy 10 more... I found something similar on Etsy, but it covers the whole diaper, so in a way its perfect, and in another way, its kinda boring. I have ordered 2 more as the one I bought was too large, but still useable to cover diaper. https://www.etsy.com/no-en/listing/1122218908/classic-solid-black-adult-baby-bodysuit?click_key=0a39443c67cb8f6d6e97fdd7a406f1dfc78709ad%3A1122218908&click_sum=50c2a17c&ref=user_profile&pro=1&frs=1

Great story. Thank you for sharing.

US Army National Guard 2009 - 2016

Babykins, though their current stock is a bit disappointing. I have a number of these and they're about as close to a t-shirt in construction of anything I have. https://babykins.com/collections/adult-incontinence-clothing/products/kins-onezie-t-shirt-original-12000 I have bought plain onesies from ABU (both plain white and solid colors) and also from Changing Times Diaper Co. But, they don't quite have that t-shirt look. But, if this is something worn under a normal shirt, then it wouldn't really matter. From a fit perspective, I like these two choices better than the Babykins anyway, with ABU having far more size options available than anyone.

Tonight I will watching Lightyear with my parents.

My dream of being incontinent came true, sort of. With the help of a stent I am incontinent as long as I want. And that is pretty much 24/7 over the last few months. Like you I find the idea of being irreversibly incontinent very exciting but I know that sometimes life itself can be quite stressful e.g. when you are about to get fired, or you have to visit a family member who is terminally ill or you have to attend a funeral. Being incontinent and having to wear diapers is simply too much then. At least for me it is. That is why I prefer using stents. So my advise to anyone who wants to be incontinent is to wear a stent 24/7 for at least a year. Then you will know what it is like and whether or not you want it to be irreversible.

Chapter 3: You’ll Find me in the Club An hour later and the young lovers are dancing the night away in a hip club in the city center… “Did you want another drink?” Charlotte asks over the music. “Damn baby, that’s your third! You trying to fast forward to “drunk girl stumbling to an Uber” before they even switch DJs?” “I know! I’m sorry, I am just so excited about our trip and our new “roomie”!” “Yeah I wonder why she’s sending us away for two weeks, and how she got the hospital and the PD to agree to it all.” “Hell I don’t care, it will be SO nice to be just the two of us for the next couple weeks doing whatever we want! Like…. Going to the bar and grabbing another drink!” Charlotte laughs swatting Ashlee’s ass and then dancing her way towards the bar. Ashlee stares as hard as she can but can’t see the training pants printing under her girl’s dress… 2 hours later “OMG Charlotte I have GOT to pee.” Ashlee declares waiting in the line at the bathroom… “You? I had to pee when we met with Margaret.. I’m bursting… but I really want another one of these drinks and the bar looks clear…” “Another one? Lol so I’ll carry you outta here right?” “Wouldn’t be the first time…. Ok! So I’ll run over and get us another drink while you save our spot ok?” “Ok but hurry! This line is long but moving pretty steady.” Charlotte takes Ashlee’s glass from her and heads towards the crowd dancing with an empty glass in each hand.. she makes it halfway across the dance floor when the pressure of her bladder pushes through her buzz. She rushes to the bar and sets her empty glasses down “I need two more of the Special!” She shouts over the crowd and music. The bartender hands her two full glasses and after dropping some cash on the bar she turns to head back to find Ashlee (and hopefully finding her next to use the toilet!) After a few steps she feels two hands on her hips. “You didn’t say please..” they say in her ear. “What?” She says trying to turn to see who grabbed her. “At the bar baby, you didn’t say please to the bartender…. Naughty girl.” Charlotte realizes that it’s Margaret holding her waist “Oh it’s you?” She says with confusion.. “Yes it is…” she can tell she’s confused “You told me you were coming here.” She starts slowly dancing with her new charge… “What are you drinking baby?” “It’s the house special. It’s really strong but the amount of vodka is masked by the delicious fruit flavors.” “My my, how many have you had? It sounds good.” “I lost count to be honest.” Charlotte starts to move away as she sights Ashlee next to enter the bathroom. “Where are you getting off to? I am still talking to you girl.” “Oh! Uh, well Ashlee is waiting on me and I have this drink for her.” “Aren’t you sweet, getting your girl something to drink.” Charlotte sees Ashlee looking around for her and then shrugging steps into the bathroom. “Ma’am, I… I need to go.. Ashlee was holding our place in line and I went to get us these…” “In line? For what?” Margaret stifles a laugh. “Oh! My baby still hasn’t gone potty has she?” “N.. no ma’am.” “Looks like Ashlee already went in, you’ll have to wait dear.” She says starting to move Charlotte’s hips to the music. “Drink your drink.” Charlotte sips her drink still holding the other glass.. Anything to take her mind off her need to pee! “That’s a good girl, now..” Margaret slides around behind Charlotte with her hands around her waist “I bet your little bladder is just ready to burst.” Charlotte only nods her head yes. “Too bad you aren’t wearing those silly adult briefs.” She slides her hands down to her hips “Because my little girl could just let it all out couldn’t she?” Charlotte blushes and shakes her head.. “Finish that drink honey.” Charlotte downs the entire drink at once. “Too bad Ashlee left you and went potty, now the line is too long and your little bladder is too weak…” she pushes on her bladder “Isn’t it?” “Yes ma’am.” She breathes in response… “You like the idea of your weak bladder failing you don’t you Charlotte?” Charlotte feels the heat in her loins and her nipples stiffening.. “I… I do…” “You want to be my good little girl don’t you?” Charlotte has stopped dancing and is now bracing herself against the firm body of her Nanny behind her, knees feeling weak. “Ashlee wants to be such a big girl but *you*… You want to be Nanny’s sweet baby.” “yeeessss…” she meekly replies.. “Show me baby, show Nanny what a good little baby you can be.” She pushes hard on Charlotte’s bladder causing her to yelp as a spurt of pee comes out into the waiting padding of her training panties. “That’s my girl, but don’t stop now. Pee-pee in your trainers and show Nanny that you can’t help but wet your panties. Nanny understands, she loves her little…” (pushes) “baby” (pushes) “girl.” Between the alcohol, the hours of needing to pee, the excitement of the “new arrangement”, and the way that Margaret is working her magic on her Charlotte feels her bladder spasm two more times before completely emptying into the padded panties she’s wearing. The padding not meant to hold that much pee are soon soaked and her pee pours down her thighs and puddles under her feet on the dance-floor. While Charlotte revels in the relief of her full bladder Margaret has stepped back and takes several photos of the proud adult in her sexy dress standing in a puddle of her own pee, her soaked panties now dipping below the short hem of her dress. “Charlotte! Where’d you g…..” Ashlee suddenly stops seeing that her girlfriend is standing in a puddle with a satisfied look on her face. “Poor little lamb, she’s had an accident didn’t you Charlotte?” Charlotte seeing her girlfriend staring at her pee covered thighs blushes with shame and looks over to the friendlier face of Margaret.. “yes ma’am.” She almost whispers. “Now Ashlee, don’t just stand there. She’s your baby sister and she needs our help. Help her out of those wet panties so we can get her cleaned up.” Ashlee motions her girlfriend towards the restroom but Margaret breaks in. “Do you not see that line dear? We can’t leave her in those soaked panties that long. Help her out of them right here.” Margaret pulls her phone up and starts recording again… Ashlee reaches over to her lover’s tight dress and slides it up exposing the childish white training panties. The gusset is soaked through and sags between her legs. She slides the wet garment down her legs exposing her bare sex and ass to anyone on the dance floor that would notice if they weren’t enjoying their own night. While no one but Margaret sees the exposed woman’s charms, the idea of being caught both humiliates and excites the two young women. Ashlee holds up the wet panties and Margaret laughs and says “I’m not putting those in my purse, just drop them to the floor. Who knows what the person that finds them later will think. A naughty girl pretending she’s a grown up… tsk tsk..” she laughs. “Now Ashlee, take these wipes and get her cleaned up.” Charlotte is getting anxious since her dress is still above her hips totally exposing herself and her hands are still full with the drinks she got from the bar. “Charlotte relax. Drink your other drink.” Margaret commands. Charlotte sips the drink through the stir stick while Ashlee cleans her loins and legs with the wipes. When she finishes she reaches to pull the dress back down but Margaret breaks in again. “My Lord Ashlee! We can’t have our girl running around with no panties on! Look what she did to the last pair! This will not do.” “Do you have more panties with you ma’am?” Ashlee asks. “Well no. I had no idea that my two 4 year old charges couldn’t hold their bladders so I didn’t think that I’d need to have spares.” She reaches in her purse and digs around finally pulling a small pink and white garment. “All I have are these pull-ups.” She says as she hands it to Ashlee. Ashlee stares at the disposable underwear and then looks at her girlfriend’s exposed privates. “Baby! I have to put something on! Everyone can see!” Charlotte says with a whine. “O.. ok.. um lift your foot.” Ashlee holds the garment out and Charlotte starts to step her high heel through but the stiletto snags the padding and she loses her balance falling to the floor on her butt. Her legs are spread and now people ARE looking. “Have another drink babe!” “Whoa! You can see her whole..” “Nice!” Etc all come from the onlookers. Charlotte can’t get up due to her heels so Margaret reaches down and pulls her to her feet not bothering to push her dress down for her. The pull-up that caused her to trip is still around her ankle Charlotte drops the glasses and reaches down to get the pull-up off her leg, her embarrassment finally getting the best of her. “What’s this?” A man says holding up the wet training panties… “Those are hers.” Margaret says nonchalantly “She wet her panties a few minutes ago and trying to put on her pull-up she slipped and fell.” Charlotte; still bent over fumbling with getting the pull-up over her shoe is mortified… Ashlee is shocked.. “Just pull it up like panties honey, you need to cover up, and we don’t need another wetting accident.” Charlotte hears the words from Margaret and starts crying as she steps her other foot in the pull-up and then yanks them over her thighs and finally covering herself up. She grabs her dress trying to pull it down to hide the childish printed item but she realizes that her micro dress doesn’t cover them up. You can plainly tell she has Disney Princess disposables on because Belle’s face is in view. The back isn’t any better… “I wanna go home!” She whines to Margaret and darts for the door; the contrast of her green dress and white pull-up attracting all eyes as she heads out of the club. Ashlee and Margaret finally catch up to Charlotte about two blocks away from the club standing against a rock wall crying. “Now now child. You wanted to be treated like a little girl and so you have been. Stop that crying.” “But… but you told everyone! They touched my dirty panties and then to top it off…” she grabs her dress “My dress has pee all over it from when I fell down!” She starts sobbing again. “Well we need to get you home Charlotte, let’s go.” Ashlee says pulling her phone up to get an Uber. “Do you think an Uber driver is going to let a woman in a piss covered dress in his car?” Margaret says with a raised eyebrow. Both women look down at the ground. “Now, we need to find you something clean to wear just to get you home.” She looks around, “Ah, that convenient store might have something to fit you.” She starts across the street pulling Charlotte with her. “Now isn’t that better?” Margaret says turning Charlotte to face the mirror in the bathroom. Charlotte doesn’t like what she sees but beggars can’t be choosers. She’s wearing an oversized t-shirt with a cartoonish dog on it that says “Don’t make me beg, Be my Valentine!” It’s not February… It’s probably for a woman two times her size but it hangs low enough to cover her pull-up unless she leans too far forward. “I look stupid.” She says with a pout. “Well, it’s what they had, now let’s go get your big sister and head home…. But first, how about something to eat?” “What? No Nanny! I can’t be seen in this!” “Enough! You will go eat or you will go home to find that I’ve cancelled the deal with you two.” “Yes ma’am….” She says contritely… After eating a small meal the three women walk into the condo. Ashlee is sent to “potty” while Charlotte is dressed for bed in one of her sexy nighties… but… Margaret insists that she wear her pull-up “just in case”. She tells Charlotte that since she had an accident, she’s been reduced to 3 years old. “Yes ma’am…” the defeated girl replies as she crawls into bed. Margaret laughs to herself as she sees Charlotte, looking at Ashlee climbing in bed, wearing training panties. Something that apparently is now out of reach for her. But when Charlotte sees Ashlee’s hard nipples poking against the nightie she’s wearing; she suddenly has other things on her mind like getting into those training panties instead of wearing some. Margaret lays down for the night and hears giggling from the next room. Ashlee must have found her pull-up and now they are getting some adult time in. “Enjoy it girls… Everything will be different soon enough.” She smiles before closing her eyes.

Well for starters cuckoldry and an abdl lifestyle are different issues, there may be some overlap on a personal level, but fundamentally one does not require the other. As far as openness about abdl there are several levels, obviously if one of the involved persons are incontinent then its an issue that should be known to everyone involved just to avoid confusion. If incontinence isn't a factor than you have to decide what level of openness is acceptable, and there are only 4 choices 1. Keep it to yourself and/or your SO - fine good, thats pretty standard 2. Keep it to yourself but honestly tell anyone who asks - I think this is fine also, if they asked better that they know than make up something incorrect in their own heads, I would accept this for children also - You don't want to lie to kids, if they've noticed enough to ask better to get the actual facts straight from you than have them ask some random person or make something up and go telling all of everybody (note I do not have or plan to have kids so I may be unqualified in that opinion) 3. Home Baby mode - this is a lot more questionable, its one thing to wear and use diapers around family/friends, its another to be full baby in front of them, they may not be willing to deal with that level so talk through it thoroughly first - and if you have kids just don't. Not only does it expose them to concepts they very likely are not capable of understanding properly but it undermines your authority as an adult and sets a poor example for how they will need to prepare for their future. 4. Public Baby - Just don't, again wearing and using diapers is one thing, its fine, but being only in a diaper in public, riding in baby buggies or similar shenanigans is a NO!, the general public do not want and should not have to deal with your personal fetish, and it gives the rest of the community a bad name when people do this shit.

Many years ago on one site (don't remember which one) there was a whole family, dad, mom and teenage kids who all openly wore diapers 24/7. They really embraced it as a family and told everyone in their posts how great it was for everyone. Very creepy! If I remember, they even posted pictures. Not this site, of course, but made my skin crawl! It's one thing if an adult has to wear diapers for incontinence or is a DL or AB and keeps it from his kids, or if one of their children has a medical issue and needs diapers, but quite different when it is something shared and embraced by the whole family as a normal activity and lifestyle with pre-teens and teens and parents walking around the house openly in just their diapers, wet and messy!

I've used the Crinklz app, mostly out of curiosity but also for its functionality to keep track of inventory and how long each type of diaper lasts. A couple of things that come to mind: -Selecting combinations of products-- for example a diaper and a stuffer-- is kind of awkward in the app. I experimented with creating the combination as a custom item, but then it doesn't automatically adjust inventory. -The ability to track more information like @jimpa suggests, such as when a change occurs for convenience not because the diaper is full such as taking a shower and then changing into a fresh one. With the current version of the app those two events aren't distinguishable from each other and the statistics (for how long each type of diaper lasts) become skewed. -Relating diaper use and duration to time of day would be interesting and possibly useful-- i.e., overnight vs. day time. -Ability to export data (so that the user could graph statistics etc. on their own.) Overall, though I haven't kept up with the app for longer than a few weeks at a time. piglet

my rearz princess pink diapee is very poopie. may have to do another poo poo. i hope i don't leak.

Chapter 2: Niathruxzon -Niathruxzon- Infernum Infantem – LittleFallenPrincess “Please. No more. I beg you! PLEASE STOP!” He pleaded, dropping to his knees and crawling over to me. As he grabbed my legs, looking up at me with eyes that were screaming for me to put him out of his misery, I smirked down at him before kicking him back on to his arse with the tip of my foot. “No. Again.” I ordered. All three of my victims groaned in pain, wishing for this to end. A wave of ecstasy washed over me as the pain of my victims echoed through the room. “Seat. Now.” I growled and looked squarely at Dave, pointing back at his place on the sofa. With his shoulders dropped in defeat, he climbed back onto the sofa. And with a whisk of my hand, the controller he threw just moments ago, flew back into his hands. “Now… because of that outburst… NO BATHROOM BREAKS!” All three of them started complaining, so I whisked my hands once again, causing them to lose their voices in an instant. “We go again. Same deal.” Dave, Lucas and Steven all pouted, like the little children they acted like in life. ‘Gamers… so much fun to torture’ I thought to myself as I crossed my legs, sitting on my feet on my favourite recliner, getting comfortable before the next round of torture. After my shift, I heard the cries of joy as the three guys were carried off to have their arses not only whipped, but also to have a variety of foreign objects shoved up them… for a few years. “Anything but that again, please!” I heard one of them cry out, making me feel proud of the work I accomplished. I readied myself for the next bunch of victims, cleaning my working space, making it look as friendly as possible for them. That was the key to breaking these guys, lulling them into a false sense of security, building up their egos… then bringing it all down on top of them in a humiliating defeat. So I’d have drinks, snacks, a really comfortable sofa, giant TV, posters of half-naked women on the walls. Although I must admit, it’s all partially for me too. My whole lair was set up to be a typical living room, looking like any average human place with a sofa, a TV, plants, paintings, coffee table, everything. It was all very… bland. Boring wallpaper, generic grey carpet, the furniture was basic stuff you could buy from any catalogue on Earth. I wanted somewhere they would feel safe and comfortable, somewhere that wouldn’t set off alarms, and most importantly… somewhere that wouldn’t distract from the games… and the torture. When the new guys show up, I’ll act like an innocent girl who wants to play games with them. And being typical gamer guys… they’ll just have to show off. ‘Oh I’ll go easy on you…’ ‘I’ll show you how to play!’ ‘Omg you’re so hot, want to suck my dick whilst I play?’ That last one I made sure to spend extra time torturing and humiliating. But yeah, when they sit down, get comfortable, make a mess with their drinks and snacks, and most importantly… pick up that controller… they’re mine. My toys. My playthings. So after a bit of magic, the place was once again spotless. The pee stains on the sofa gone, the snacks refilled, save files all deleted, all damage from thrown controllers reverted back to the original state of the room. “Oops… nearly forgot…” A quick whisk of my wrist again and my deep red skin turned paler, my horns vanishing from the top of my head. I looked… human. Just a ‘poor widdle girl who can’t play video games like the boys can’. Sexist pricks won’t know what’s going to hit them. “Oh hi! Welcome!” I said in my cutest voice, ushering in the next three victims into my lair. “Hey babe…” Said the most confident one, Jason, and from my experience… most likely the one with the smallest dick. “Where are we? What happened?” Said Ashley, the know-it-all. “H… hi!” Said the smaller, more shy guy. Todd was his name I think. Their names didn’t really mean anything to me, I only needed to know them at the start of our torture session to fake being cute and friendly. By the time I reveal their fate to them, I won’t be using their names, just one of a million insulting terms. Even their appearances all started to blend in. I didn’t take notice of their hair, their skin, or their eyes… nothing. They were just toys to play with. All that mattered to me was doing my job. Sure, some demons use sharp instruments to poke and prod and torture their assigned souls. Some get to shove fruit and other fun objects into places they shouldn’t be shoved. Some get to manipulate their victim’s guilt, passions or regrets. Me… I torture gamers. No idea why I was assigned this job, but I’m good at it. Getting to lure the souls of pathetic guys who like to think their skills on a video game mean everything, guys who like to belittle others because they’re a woman, or trans, or disabled, or from another country, or just simply just because they’re not good at the game. Luring those guys into a false sense of security… before destroying their ego, forcing them to face their new reality… I loved every second of it. TL:DR: I beat people at video games to torture them. “Come on in guys, I’ve got snacks and drinks and everything. Take a seat, you can show me how good you are at Battle of Duty: Warfare or whatever it’s called.” I waved them all in, their memories of their situation vanishing from their minds upon walking in. We did that so I can torture them even more. Don’t worry, they’ll get their memories back when I reveal that they’re being tortured in hell. And that I’m a demon, the one torturing them. It’s a lot of fun, even after going through this routine thousands of times since video games were invented. I’m hoping that over time, as video games get bigger and bigger, that my ideas for expansion of this department can actually be listened to and maybe considered. Right now… I’m the only one torturing people through games. All three of them sat down, blissfully unaware of the reality of their situation. All believing they’ve got a cute, white-haired girl with a low cut top that showed off her assets, to play games with and show off to. “So… what are we doing here?” Jason asked. “You’re in heaven, silly!” I smiled, cocking my head to the side in a cute anime pose. Weebs soak that stuff up, so it’s become a bit of a habit now. “You’re so cute, has anyone told you?” He replied. “Aww thank you Jason, you’re not half bad yourself…” I replied, winking at him and lying through my teeth. “So… we just get to play video games with a hot chick in heaven?” Ashley spoke up. “Yup!” I answered. “Why don’t we get our own personal heaven with a hot chick each?” He replied. Thankfully, too many guys like him have asked the same question, so I was prepared. Not going to lie… the first time one asked that, I was thrown off my rhythm. “Oh… you… don’t want me? Okay then… I’ll… go…” I started to get up when all three of the guys sat up instantly. “NO!” All three of them shouted at the same time. “But…” I pretended to look sad. “I wasn’t saying I don’t want to… just… why don’t we each get you?” Ashley asked. “Budget reasons.” I shrugged. “Oh… okay…” “Sorry boys… you have to share… but you could share… couldn’t you… for me?” I smiled coyly at them. “Yep. Yep… Yeah…” They all said, nodding their heads. “Good! Let’s get started then! I wanna see how good you all are!” I said, sitting back into my favourite recliner once again. Picking up their controllers, grabbing a drink from the coffee table in front of them, and dunking their hands into the popcorn bowl, they sat back and got comfortable for what they believed to be a fun gaming sesh. “So… the rules are… free-for-all deathmatch. 10 lives each. Winner gets to do what they want with me. If I win… I get to do what I want with all three of you.” “So we can’t lose? Perfect!” Jason grinned. ‘Oh Jason… you guys will never learn…’ “You’re cheating!” Jason yelled at me. “Yeah, I call bullshit.” Ashley joined in. “I mean… it was a bit… unfair… you kicked all our arses…” Todd finally spoke up, after being deathly quiet for the past ten games. The two boisterous ones stood up in front of me, looking down at me with anger in their eyes. I beat them, fair and square. I have the potential to cheat, I have the potential to slow their characters or speed mine up, I can also grant myself powerups and everything. This is hell, and this room is my playground. But I don’t use any of that. I don’t need to. These pathetic boys just can’t handle losing to a girl who is simply… better than them. It had been three weeks. Three weeks of non-stop video games. Ashley had begged me to kill him multiple times by now. Jason was dressed in the cutest little pink frilly dress after a bet he had lost. I mean… he didn’t even need to make that bet. I was going to shove him in that dress eventually anyway. Todd… Todd was your typical shy quiet gamer. Not the normal one that ends up in Heaven… no… the shy gamer who ends up in Hell. You know the ones… they act all nice and good and they love to play the ‘white knight’. Until you turn them down. At first he resisted all the torture I inflicted on the group. He kept playing, acting really nice to me, trying to impress me still. I could read his face… he still thought he had a shot with me, even after I had humiliated Jason and Ashley. I still hadn’t told any of them that they were in hell, I hadn’t told them I’m a demon… They still believed we were having fun in Heaven. How they thought that after I had been beating them at the same game for over three weeks with no breaks… they hadn’t even realised they didn’t need to pee here. I had stopped their bladders after the first few hours… but Todd was starting to show his true colours and I was about to unleash Hell upon him. “You’re such a bitch…” Todd yelled, surprising both of the other two. Not me though, I’ve been waiting for this moment. “Oh? I am? Do tell…” I replied. “You tease us, flirt with us… it’s been how long?” “Three weeks.” “Wait… what? No! It’s been like hours… right?” Ashley spoke up. Time works differently in Hell. “Three weeks? Anyway… that’s worse! Three weeks of leading us on! You’re not even that hot. I bet you can’t even give good head…” Todd said, sealing his fate. “Aww… ickle Todd…” I grinned at him, standing up and walking over to him, standing face to face with the little sexist prick. “I…” He instantly shut up. He wasn’t expecting me to get up into his face like this. “You’re right. I have been leading you on. But that’s because that’s my job. This isn’t Heaven. It’s Hell. You really think you three would get into the good place? You’re all pathetic. Especially you Toddy…” The fake pale skin faded away, leaving my demonic form on show for them all to see. “Todd..y…?” He mumbled, drool slipping down his chin. “Huh?” “Aww can ickle Toddy not think straight? Don’t worry, you’re much too little to think about getting head. Giving it though…” I placed my hands on Todd’s shoulders, turning him around. He didn’t even fight back. I mean… he couldn’t. He was entranced, he was powerless to do anything. Once he was facing Ashley, I pushed down on Todd’s shoulders, making him get to his knees. “Now… go crawl that padded butt over there and see how much of a good job you can do on Ashley’s… you-know-what….” I said, kicking the nappy he was now wearing, propelling him forward. It’s amazing what I can conjure in this room… the power I have. Outside of here I’m powerless… but in here, I’m a God. “Padded…?” Todd asked, looking behind him to see the thick nappy he was wearing, blushing heavily before he crawled over to Ashley, who just sat there, waiting helplessly. I loved this moment. And I was going to savour every humiliating second of it. Another week later, my time with these three was up. They were happy to leave, just like my last ‘guests’, leaving me alone in my lair once again. I’d get them back eventually, once they were a bit more broken from other kinds of torture by other demons, but for now… I had a little break before the next batch. “Niathuxzon?” A voice came from the doorway. “Huh?” I said, looking around, lowering my GameGirl and pausing the game I was playing in my spare time between guests. In the doorway was my boss, Xelmath. A large, muscular demon with enormous horns, very dark red skin, and a really evil-looking goatee. People who saw him often assumed he was Satan. Which was always funny. And as usual, Xelly wore a business suit… because… you know… they’re the worst. “Oh, it’s you, boss. Whatdya want?” I asked him casually. He hated the way I talked to him, which was all the reason I needed to never stop. “Sit up straight, stupid girl.” “Ugh. Fine.” I said, sliding off the chair, my Gamegirl still in my hands, until I was sat up straight… on the floor.” “Off the floor…” “Well why didn’t you say…?” I grinned, slowly climbing to my feet, determined to be an even bigger thorn in this guy’s backside. “Look… You know how much I hate your… methods. And no, I don’t care about your success rate. It’s ridiculous. You just sit in here, playing games, messing around and wasting time and Hell’s resources… just to torture a few brats at a time. If you ask me… you should be joining them…” “Yeah well I’m not. As much as you hate me, I’m a demon too. And demon’s are exempt from spankings!” I joked, sticking my tongue out at him. “Look… I swear one of these days…” He stopped all of a sudden, confusion plastered across his face as he stared at my feet. “Got a new fetish?” I laughed, before looking down to see what he was staring at exactly. But it wasn’t my feet he was looking at. It was the thing under them. A sigil… runes… “W…” Before I could say anything, everything went black. ========================================================== Hope you're enjoying this story still! It was a lot of fun to write! Especially this character ? I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next 4 chapters of Regression Echo and the next 2 chapters of Infernum Infantem 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 Regression Echo and Infernum Infantem. New chapters of Regression Echo every Wednesday/Sunday! New chapter of Infernum Infantem every Friday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

I really like the Tykeables Waddler, but for me in Canada, with shipping, works out to $7 per diaper ?. There is a supplier in Canada, but always "sold out".

just woke up I am sitting in a very poopy tykables overnights diapee.

So hello I do not go on here very often but reading through all these. Let me say first. I first had an interest in diapers and plastic pants as young boy. Yes, I wet the bed quite occasionally and Mom beat for me for it. I crapped my pants in school because the teacher would not let me go potty. So then at 12 or 13 I am babysitting my niece and changing her diapers and have dribbled in my underpants over the years and sometimes even wet myself. So, I manage to put het her cloth diapers and used plastic bags for plastic pants and I wet in the diapers. As you all know that feeling of oh my gosh that feels so good. Now for the last 10 years I worn drug store g and now after Covid I had quite bad was in hospital for a little over a month. Now I am wearing Diapers 2, 3, and even 4 days 24/7. The rest of the time I am still dribbling or getting up and or running to the potty. The wife knows that I have to wear diapers and plastic pants but only occasionally. Just yesterday I tried to go without pee pants or diapers wrong almost peed my pants completely and wore diapers to a meeting last night wearing and home wet. I am wetting heavier to the point of I do not buy pee pants anymore. So, this helps me knowing I am not alone in liking and wearing my diapers I am not alone. Sorry, this is so long I have to go change my diaper.

Sarah doesn't know her plan is foiled from the start. If she leaks her video Naomi is gonna find out. I'm sure she fears her more than Tammy or her mother.

Really hope some karma comes Sarah's way...

As soon as I feel the impending moment of pure bliss, I continue walk around as I go about my household stuff. But I have a few times in the past tried crawling around as I fill my diaper with my wonderful soft and warm feeling poopie. I must admit that it is quite a nice feeling, especially if I roll around on the floor before sitting?