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Chapter 36 Mama Angela carried Danny out of the conference room with Ashley behind them. Danny noticed the employees were watching them, but none said anything. Uncle Carl was not there, however. Danny wondered what he was up to. “Now you said a couple days ago that you wanted shoes,” Mama Angela said. “So why don’t we start with socks and shoes to cover your cute little footsies.” Danny went along with it because he did want shoes. He just hoped that he got shoes that were not too babyish. Ashley left to get a car for the clothes and Danny to ride in. She knew Angela was going to go overboard on the shopping trip for Danny and Danny was not going to like the clothes she picked. Mama Angela carried Danny to the socks. “Do you see any you like?” Mama Angela asked. “They are socks,” Danny said. “They are not a big deal. Danny never took any pleasure in shopping for clothes and usually tried to make it quick. He knew this shopping trip would not be that way though. She looked around for a bit before picking out a pack of ankle socks with many different colors. “What do you think of these Danny?” Mama Angela asked. “They look fine,” Danny said. He was glad she did not try to pick any of the socks with cartoon characters on them. Ashley returned with the cart and Mama Angela sat Danny in the seat and place the socks in the cart. “Now let’s get some shoes.” Mama Angela pushed the cart to the shoes section and began looking at croc like shoes eventually picking a dark green pair. “What do you think of these Danny?” “I like those,” Danny answered. “Then into the cart they go,” Mama Angela said smiling as she placed them into the cart. She was trying to pick shoes and later on clothes that Danny would prefer even though cuter options were available. She went to sandals next, and she instantly found a pair she thought would look super cute on Danny. They were blue with smiling fishes all over the shoe. She knew they would not be Danny’s favorite but decided to see if Danny would accept them. If he said no, she would put them back for now but come back before they checked out and get them. “What do you think of these?” Mama Angela asked Danny. “I think they look adorable. Don’t you agree Ashley?” “Sure,” Ashley said with no enthusiasm. She just hoped Danny would not complain too much so this trip could finish up quicker. Danny thought the shoes looked way too babyish. He did not want to wear them but realized that Mama Angela was going to pick out a lot of outfits Danny did not like. He had a feeling these shoes were not going to be the worst thing she picked out. He decided to pick his battles for something more insulting. “I guess they are okay,” Danny said. He saw Mama Angela quickly put them in the cart. Then she pushed the cart to the sneakers section. “Okay Danny which ones do you like?” Mama Angela said. Danny looked around and on the top shelf he saw a pair that looked like a normal pair of sneakers from his dimension. Danny could not read the information on the shoe and did not realize from his angle that the bottoms light up and the ties were just for show and could be removed, they were actually Velcro shoes. Danny pointed towards them. “The blue and white pair on the top shelf.” “Good choice,” Mama Angela said as she found his size. She had calculated his sizes before the trip with the measurements the hospital did, so she did not need him to try everything on. They were not the pair that she would have chosen for Danny but wanted him to get to pick out some of his clothes. They went to the next section which was shorts and pants. “Tell me which ones you like,” Mama Angela said as she pushed Danny through the selection. Danny picked out basic clothing like jeans that looked normal enough despite the elastic waist band and a few pairs of shorts that were solid print. Mama Angela took all his choices and put them in the cart while also noting where she thought some cuter items were so she could come back for them before they checked out. The next section they walked into was the diaper section. “See anything you like Danny?” Mama Angela asked. “I am not doing this,” Danny quickly responded. “I do not need diapers once I am off the medication. I will not participate in picking any out.” “Here, I have a suggestion,” Mommy Ashley intervened hoping to prevent anything more from happening in the store. She did not like the idea of taking care of Danny by herself but him losing it in a store would be a worse embarrassment in her eyes. “How about me and Danny go for a little walk while you do some more shopping.” “Sounds good,” Mama Angela replied realizing with how today had gone that it all may be a little overwhelming for Danny. “Do you want to go for a walk Danny?” “Works for me,” Danny replied. He raised his arms and Mommy Ashley lifted him out of the cart seat. She carried him outside of the store and Danny could see just how massive every building in the area was, but this was the largest. Ashley was worried Danny would still be worked up about Angela taking him to the diaper aisle. That was completely ridiculous of her. She knew Danny still believed he was not staying in diapers. Ashley knew it was not true but why would Angela push the issue in public. “Sorry,” Ashley told Danny. “Angela gets way too excited when she shops and forgets that not everyone enjoys shopping as much as she does. She did not think before going to that last aisle.” “It’s fine,” Danny said. After seeing the spanking earlier today he was not in any rush to gain firsthand knowledge of how that felt so he would agree to almost anything right now after clearly upsetting his captors in the store. “Be honest with me,” Ashley said deciding to push the issues of Danny lying to Angela to hopefully use it against him later. “You said you do not hate us because of what happened did you mean that or was it just saying what Mama Angela wanted to hear.” “Honestly,” Danny admitted. “I meant what I said about not being sure of anything and being overwhelmed. At times I hate everything and everyone but other times I can think more clearly. I have seen how other littles are treated in this dimension and realize you and Angela are far from the worst.” Ashley felt torn on if she believed Danny. She wanted to believe he was lying and her assumptions about him were correct, but something deep down told her he was being sincere. She decided to ignore it for now. Ashley just walked him around the perimeter of the building hoping not to interact with anyone so Danny would have no reason to lose his cool. In the front of the building a few people waved to the two of them as they left but for the most part they were ignored. That was until they saw an older male amazon in the store uniform who looked to be part of the maintenance team. “Hello there, you two,” the maintenance employee said. “Is there anything I can do for you today?” “Hello,” Ashley said. “We are good. Danny is newer and was just getting a little overwhelmed in the store, so I am letting him catch himself while my partner continues the shopping.” “Smart,” the employee replied. “Is he your first little?” “He is,” Ashley told the man. “Wow,” the employee said shocked. “Normally new parents are not nearly in tune with how their little is feeling and when they show signs of discomfort, they go straight to either threatening punishments or worse just punishing them. Working here you see a lot of littles who are just overwhelmed or scared getting punished because of inexperienced parents. You and your partner must either have great instincts or have been very prepared.” Ashley did not know how to reply. Yes, Angela both had great instincts with littles and was very prepared, but it was Ashley who suggested the idea. Ashley was not experienced with littles at all, and she did not have instincts with littles other than to avoid them. Truth be told in Ashley’s eyes it had been just dumb luck. “Thank you, sir,” Ashley responded to the man. “You’re welcome,” the man said. “Enjoy the rest of your shopping trip and good luck with the new little.” Then he got back to work, and Ashley continued walking Danny around the building for a while longer before stopping. “Are you ready to go back inside,” Ashley asked Danny. “I am a little afraid of how much Angela could have bought for you in the amount of time we were out here.” “Afraid because of how embarrassing it will be for me or afraid for how much she spent?” Danny asked. “Both,” Ashley said emphatically. Ashley knew Angela would have a cart full of what she considered the cutest clothes for Danny, but most likely Danny would hate every outfit. “Let’s go back,” Danny said. He also had the feeling Mama Angela would have several things in the cart he did not want. While her wife and Danny were taking a break to calm down Angela went to work picking out the cutest outfits she could find for Danny. Onesies with cute cartoon animals, footie pajamas with stars and moons, t-shirts with phrases like little stinker and mama’s boy on them, which Danny would not be able to read due to the different alphabet. She enjoyed her shopping but was doing it a little quicker than normal because she did not want to keep Danny here too long with everything he had already been through today and since arriving. She was not rushing by any stretch of the imagination, but she knew the sooner he was at home where he was more comfortable the better. She also made sure to get a few plainer outfits that Danny would preferably wear early on before he accepted his role as a little more. While she was shopping, she saw Carl coming towards her. “Hello Carl,” she greeted him. “Did you finish everything here.” “Yep,” he replied. “I am ready to get back home to my wife and three little ones. Speaking of little ones where is Danny?” “He and Ashley went for a walk,” she explained “He is still a little overwhelmed and the diaper section was a little but much for him.” “Still in the phase where they do not believe they need diapers,” Carl guessed. “He believes once all the medicines are out of his system that he will be fine without them,” Angela stated. “He might gain a little bit more control,” Carl said. “But not enough for him to be trusted in anything but a diaper. Angela felt like that comment was more reassurance for her that keeping him in diapers was the right thing to do than anything else. “True,” Angela replied. “But at least we can give him thinner ones than he has had right now. The crawlers were good for when he was injured but he is going to need less bulk to walk.” “Do you think he will be walking tomorrow?” Carl asked. “I do not know,” Angela admitted. “The doctor said he should be able to, but I want to make sure he does not push himself too far and suffer more setbacks.” “That is understandable,” Carl replied. “You want to baby him through the process. He is your baby after all.” “Yeah, but I have the feeling he won’t like going for the patience approach. He seems to want it to be going a mile a minute.” “You are the parent,” Carl reminded Angela. “If you think something is a bad idea then you can veto it. I know you want him happy, but you also have a more important responsibility to his safety.” “I know,” Angela said. “But the doctor sad he is all set to try to start walking and told me and Ashley in a private meeting if we wait too long the muscles will weaken and it will be harder for him to walk again.” “I get it,” Carl responded. “How mad is Vivian at you for working another weekend,” Angela asked changing the subject. “She was pissed,” Carl admitted. “But as soon as she heard about what was going on with you and Danny here, she did not care and became more concerned about him. She even was considering rounding up the kids and coming here to help you herself. I had to convince her that it was over and by the time they got here you would be gone. Angela just smirked at her sister’s reaction. Mom to everyone, she thought. “Me and Ashley can handle it.” “I know you two can,” Carl agreed. “She is really looking forward to meeting Danny tomorrow. So are the little ones.” “I’m sure Danny will love meeting them,” Angela said not knowing how Danny felt about meeting his new family currently. “Do you need anything before I head out,” Carl asked. “Nope,” Angela said confidently. “Everything is all set here.” “Okay,” Carl said. “Have a great rest of your day. See you tomorrow.” “See you tomorrow,” Angela said and with that Carl left and Angela went back to shopping.

Another day, ANOTHER Diaper!??♥️???♥️?????

No doubt about it. Thanks to @DailyDiand all of you for making this a thoughtful and kind site for ABDLs. In my case it has been instrumental for helping me accept myself. Hugs and love to you all! ?❤️

Do you have a link to that site?

My wife got a subtle shot in; she was talking about house-training a puppy, except she said "potty-training" the dog, and she said "We'll all have to work together and be consistent so that we get this done quickly, and then we're back to only having one person in the house who's not potty-trained...." Although I maintain that I'm not "not potty-trained", I'm just neglecting it, kind of like not using a language for a while, or not picking up an instrument you used to play for a while. It never completely goes away, it just gets rusty.

Daily Diapers the place to be for AB/DL and all the rest to have a fun and enjoyable place to make friends and take our adult life away!!!

Chapter 16: Emergency -Nia- Infernum Infantem – LittleFallenPrincess “Hello?” Victoria answered the phone call. “Yes. Shit. Well give me a minute… right… I’ll be in as soon as possible. Tell them not to move. I’ll sort this all out.” And with that very brief conversation, she put the phone down. “Umm… everything okay?” I asked, concerned about her. “Yeah. Just one of our employees screwed up. I’ve got to go in and fix it. So can I trust you to stay here and be good for me?” “I… sure… but can’t… can’t I come with you?” “I’ve not got enough time, I’ve got to get ready and head out…” “I’ll cast the glamour whilst you’re doing that…” Beatrice said, appearing in the doorway once again. It was like she waited for moments like these to appear. Witches love to be dramatic. “And I’ll hold off on dinner for now. I guess it’ll be a late night?” “Yes, and thank you, Beatrice. Fine, if you don’t mind casting the glamour spell on her… Nia, you can come.” Vic smiled at me. I squealed with excitement. I loved spending time with her, and to get to see her in action… in a crisis… I couldn’t wait for her to go into work and take control. Something about seeing her all dominant… really turns me on. So as she rushed off to get dressed for this important work crisis, Beatrice walked over and held her hand out. Grabbing it, she helped me to my feet and I followed her, not letting go of her hand the whole way, as she led me away to cast this glamour spell on me yet again. ------------------------------------------- We took Victoria’s nice car. The sporty red one. I know nothing about cars, other than this was sporty, the roof came off, and it went very… very fast. Which didn’t help my whole situation. The vibrations… Let's just say it was frustrating me more and more as we sped down the country roads towards the city. If anything, the chastity belt was making things worse, vibrating against my skin with the rumble of the engine. I wanted to say something, to speak up… but after the spanking earlier… I felt like maybe I should keep quiet. Not that I didn’t enjoy that spanking… I was just surprised that Victoria had it in her. Damn that Beatrice for putting it in her head, although I suppose I was the one who teased her into actually doing it. Part of me wanted to push her again though… just so I could experience it again. For now… I was too hungry to care. Which worried me, as I fed only the other night, and usually I could go a week, or even more, between feedings. For it to come back so soon after my last feeding… I was starting to worry they may not find a solution in time. Eventually I’m going to hump my way out of this belt, and it’ll be either Vic or Beatrice that I drain the life out of. Neither of whom I wanted to kill. At least Vic has the amulet thingy… that’ll protect her, provided it’s got its juice back. If it’s Beatrice… I just hope she has some kind of protection. It’s not like I can control it. When I get that hungry… I’m like a rabid animal. I will fuck the first person I see. I know from experience. I hated being a succubus. I hated being a minority within demonkind. There aren’t that many succubi compared to the other kinds of demons. And they don’t have to have sex to survive. Fun fact: Very few demons are succubi, but at the same time, not all succubi are demons. I’m one of the few demonic ones, but there are a lot more on Earth that are more human. Same powers, same lust for sexual energy, just… they look human. But if I’m correct in thinking, all of those succubi are descendents of my kind, one of their human ancestors got freaky with one of my sisters (or brothers… they could have had an incubi relative!) and the succubus or incubus trait was passed down. Sometimes it skips a generation, but usually it's passed down from parents to children. It’s a lot more common on Earth, in Hell we’re a minority. “You okay, sweetpea?” Vic asked as she brought the car to a gentle stop at the traffic lights. “I… what?” I replied, dumbfounded. “You zoned out there. You okay?” She asked with concern in her soft, beautiful voice. “Yeah…” I looked at her, her gorgeous body looking all official and powerful in that pantsuit of hers. Unf. “You sure?” “I… think so…” I lied. I didn’t feel okay in the slightest. I felt… weak. Hungry. But also incredibly frustrated. “If you don’t… tell me, okay hun?” “Uh huh…” “Good girl…” ‘Add squirmy and blushy to my symptoms now…’ I thought to myself as I looked away into the side view mirror, noticing my cheeks turning red. Looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn't help but appreciate how good this glamour was. I was still wearing my comfortable clothes from before, but now I had the familiar pale skin and my demonic features were gone. Beatrice was no second-rate Witch. Victoria has no clue what she has living under her roof, and squanders Beatrice’s talent on petty glamour spells. “Is… is it okay that I didn’t change?” I asked, pointing at my casual attire. “Oh don’t worry sweetie, it’s my company. And I don’t care.” “Why did I have to dress up the first time I went in then?” “That was a formal day and I wanted you to appear professional. This is an emergency, so they’ll understand if you’re not dressed as formally.” “Umm… okay…” “Trust me, it’s okay babygirl…” The butterflies in my tummy got extra excited at that moment. For some reason… that name… “I…” “What’s up?” Vic asked. “I’m… okay. Are we there yet?” “Nearly. When we arrive, I need you to sit out of the way and silently play your game, okay?” “What if I want to watch?” “You can do… if you want. But just stay quiet and stay out of the way, okay?” “Uh huh… okay!” “Good girl.” And there goes the butterflies again… “What’s the damage?” Victoria asked her assistant as she walked in, confidently striding through the halls, not even slowing down for her assistant on her way to the boardroom. “They’re threatening to sue. After the mess up…” Her assistant said hurriedly. “Nia?” Vic turned to me, without stopping or slowing down. “Yeah?” I replied. “I know I said you could come in… but this is worse than I thought. I need you to go with Alison. Alison? Take care of Nia. Just get her a snack and a drink and leave her to play her game.” “But… I wanted to watch…” I whined. “I know, another time, I promise. I need to sort this out. Be good for me, please?” “Fiiiine…” I groaned, before walking off, trying to catch up with Alison who had walked off without saying a word or even looking at me. “So what are you?” Alison asked as I sat there, playing my game on my handheld console. “Huh?” I asked, looking up from my game. I was getting really hungry at this point. I could feel my body cry out for nourishment. ‘Wait… Can she tell I’m glamoured? Can she see past the illusion? Is she supernaturally inclined?’ “Girlfriend? Escort? You can’t be a random hookup, I saw you yesterday all dressed up. Are you a relative?” ‘Did Victoria not even tell her assistant who I am? That actually… hurts…’ “I’m… her girlfriend.” Honestly I wasn’t sure what I was, but right now, that seemed the best term to describe me. We had had sex, she seemed interested in me, and she wanted me to stay on Earth. I was interested in her and she was part of the reason why I didn’t want to return to Hell. So girlfriend it is. I just hoped this wouldn’t come back to bite me later. “Mkay…” Alison looked at me, judging me with her eyes from the other side of her desk. The older, grey-haired woman pulled her glasses down in that “So… you play… video games?” “Yeah?” I replied. “Bit childish, aren’t they? How old are you?” “Four hun…. Four… Twenty four.” I quickly corrected myself. “Bit young for her… didn’t realise she was into women barely out of nappies…” She joked. For some reason I blushed. And I had no idea why. Plus what was this woman on about? Sure… Alison looked older than Victoria… by my estimate, Alison was probably late 50s. But Vic is actually much older than her, thanks to her amulet… and me? Barely out of nappies? I’m four hundred years old! At least… well I’m at least that. I can’t actually remember how old I am. I stopped counting after four hundred. I know my body looks younger, probably early twenties according to human ageing, but I’m not ‘barely out of nappies’! If it wouldn’t bring problems upon Victoria… I’d show Alison the real horrors of Hell. “I’m not that young…” I replied instead. “You are compared to me, dearie. You young’uns…” I rolled my eyes and went back to playing my game. A wave of pain washed over my body. I needed to feed. “So where did she meet you? Daycare?” She scoffed. I would have blushed again, I could feel it, but right now all I could feel was hunger. And I was ready to pounce on anyone right now. Even this old woman. “Are you okay, dear?” She asked. “I… hungry…” I growled, clutching at my game. “Miss Delacroix did say to get you a snack…” “No… I need… more…” “I could go see what they’ve got at the cafeteria…” “MORE!” I screamed. “You don’t look well… I… I’ll just message her…” She said, grabbing her phone in fear, fiddling with the keypad before looking back at me. I was staring at her, I couldn’t keep my eyes off her. If this was a cartoon, she’d look like a giant roast chicken right now. I was ready to fuck this woman to death. It was getting too much and I didn’t think I could hold back any longer… It was then that I heard a gasp, followed by a rush of footsteps as Victoria ran over and knelt down in front of me as I sat on the edge of the sofa. “Vic…” I gasped. “Nia, are you…” Vic asked, holding my hand. “Hungry…” “Shit… I thought we’d have more time. I wonder why it’s happening so…” “HUNGRY!” I growled louder. “Alison, tell them I’ll be back soon. I need to help Nia.” Vic said as she helped me to my feet and wrapped her arm around me. I was shaking at this point. “Is she diabetic or something?” Alison asked. “It’s… something. Just… don’t interrupt us, okay?” Vic ordered before rushing me off into her office next door. “Sweetie… why are you so hungry so soon?” Vic asked, after she had closed the door behind her and carried me into the middle of her office. “I… I don’t know… I need… to… FEED!” “Right, let’s get that sorted, then we can worry about why.” She said, fumbling about in her pocket before pulling out a key. The key to my chastity belt. “But… how… What about… Hell?” I asked, panting. “We’ll figure that out later. Just take a bit from me for now, okay sweetie? Just enough to keep you going for a bit longer… don’t drain me like last night.” She pressed me against the wall of her office, the chastity belt falling to the floor with a clunk. Kissing my neck, she pinned my arms above my head and began kissing my lips tenderly. “I…” I moaned. “Go on, sweetie… feed…” And so I did. As her fingers pressed against my most sensitive area, as lips pressed against mine… I stared at her. ‘Just a little bit, Nia… maybe… maybe it won’t alert Hell…’ And so I let go. I gave in to the pleasure, to this intimacy, and started draining Victoria’s life force from her kiss. Trying my best to balance the hunger I felt and the control needed to only drain her of a small amount, I focused. She moaned in pleasure as I felt her grip on my arms weaken. ‘Just… a bit… more…’ And just as I was about to finish, just as I was about to get enough life force from Victoria… I sensed something. I stopped immediately, causing Vic to look at me with concern. “But we both seemed so close… did you… did you get enough?” She asked, panting a bit, clearly out of breath and feeling exhausted after having some of her life taken from her. I was out of breath… for different reasons. I hated edging, but right now I had to just deal with the frustration as I looked at her in the eyes. “I sense a demon.” “Sh… shit…” She breathed heavily. “What do we do?” I asked. She’s the clever one, the one who is good at coming up with plans, so I left it to her. “Hide. My personal bathroom is through the door over there. Hide in there.” She ordered. “What about you?” “I’ll throw him off the scent.” “You sure?” “Go on sweetie, I got this.” Without hesitation, I rushed off into the door by the side, shutting it behind me. ========================================================== Loving all your theories so far! They're so much fun to read! ? 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 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 Infernum Infantem. New chapters of Infernum Infantem every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

@wetmessycrinkly Welcome to Daily Diapers. Feel free to join us in chat sometime. We have a good time over there most days. Also feel free to browse the rest of the forum. Sorry to hear about your incontinence problems I have #2 incontinence issues. And I am also going to be going 24/7 soon. working on the financials on that one. Though I do have accidents. And I make sure I am close to a bathroom or make sure if I am out and if I do have diapers I am wearing one. My good friend @~Brian~ And a few others like @Little Sherri @Kif @oznl @Kawaharu @Little Belle @Beccathelittle @Rachael-Little @Young1 @Enthusi @Crinklz Kat And a few others have been helping me and talking to me I have my own post on here as well. Which helps me a lot. There are many post on here that can help you with your 24/7 if you like you can do what many of others have and keep a diary like on this thread about your daily life in diapers is like it helps with everything. I love reading the stories my friends post on here. And I would like to add you as a friend as well.

For many of us that have ben paced into a diaper 24/7 or have chosen this, it is potentially at times stressful at the office . The normal happenings after a stressfull day is for my wife to give me a bath and cleaning, place me into a clean diaper. Then I either reach for a baby bottle or a paci to relax and then lay down for a nap for a little while. what do others do after a stressful day.

oh, Thank you, AbabeBill! Huggs Hi Eddie. Thank you for answering. Have a lovely day.

@Crinklz Kat wow that is some lost.

Well, I'm enjoying having the blinds up in my office today, because it's a wall of white out there, so I can walk around in my diaper and not worry about giving any of my neighbours PTSD. I'm in a Rearz Lil' Squirts Splash right now, because at some point I may have to go pick my daughter up from school, and these are a good "out and about" weight - comfy but they don't render my butt visible from space. I anticipate being asked to get her because my wife doesn't relish driving in bad weather, and right now, it's snowing pretty decently out there. They're keeping on top of of the roads, though - they look clear, even out here, which is a bit out of the city. Kudos to the city crews. It's funny, because this type of weather is represented as a major "event" these days, whereas, when I was a kid, I think that it was more or less "normal" to be getting snow, in the winter, in Canada. I barely remember ANY snow days occurring when I was in school, whereas my kids have them with amazing frequency. Maybe that has more to do with the evolution of liability concerns than it does with climate change, but, this winter has been unusually warm. Case in point: I have yet to fire up my snowblower. All the show-falls we've had so far have been too minor to warrant bringing a gasoline-powered device into the fray. I've just scraped a few inches off the driveway a couple of times, or, it was going to be 5 degrees above zero the next day, anyway, so I let the driveway "auto-clear". Maybe, maybe I'll have cause to finally see if the thing starts tomorrow, if we get the full 8 inches or so (20 cm) that they're calling for. I'm not holding my breath, though, because they've already overestimated the impact of a few "events" this season, to the point of closing the schools for what turns out to be a few centimetres of snow and some light rain. Funny enough, the schools are open today, and lo and behold, it's snowing pretty good out there.

Just one?

How long have I been saying the same?

Not much to add LMDO

Welcome to Daily Diapers

@herb330 For me since I work for myself and I do not go to a office if the day starts getting stressful I just stop working. And if I choose to I may put on a diaper if I am going out. As I do not trust my butt any longer. Most times when I am home I am either on facebook or I am on here or I might have one of the streaming services on watching tv. I have 2 monitors so I can watch tv while I work or while chatting in the DD chatroom. Or reading some of the forum post. That is it for me. @Little Sherri your daily unstressing days are cool. Just wondering though since you just sleep in just a diaper are you not afraid of leaks? Even though I do have a protective cover over the mattress on my bed I rather not wet the bed. When I go fulltime I will be wearing pul pants to protect the sheets. I got like 4 or 5 not sure how many. And when I go fulltime I plan on getting more so I have a lot to choose from.

Go home, take the kids for a bike ride, then back to work!

Hello! Just one of those periodic reminders to say: A) Thank you for continuing to read this story. I do appreciate you sticking around! B)If you are dying for more of this story, Tier 1 subs to my Patreon get access to new chapters before anyone else. Right now, there are 5 more chapters of this story to read there. Also, if you decide to sub to a higher tier, there are many (many) short stories and series available to read that are exclusive to the Patreon. Drop by and help support the cause, if you can! (The cause = making people read naughty stories, I guess.) Twenty-Eight I could’ve been more observant. I could’ve taken notes of the streets we had turned on to get to the hotel. Hell, I could’ve noticed what the hotel itself was actually called. But details like that only seemed important to adults. In the last few minutes of the drive, I was thinking about the number of details that I didn’t care about when I was a kid. When my family took vacations, I was just there, enjoying whatever was put before me. I didn’t think about the hotel reservations. The plan for our meals. Getting tickets for an amusement park. Travel accommodations. I had been tempted to ask about things like our accommodations, or what her schedule would be like, but I bit my tongue every time. Those were adult concerns that only Mommy would care about. It felt good to just…not care. I couldn’t remember the last time I was able to just sit back and let life happen around me without being an active participant. Bills, work, meal planning, grocery shopping. All of those things still existed–and eventually I’d be back in that world. But not right now. This mentality, combined with the distance we were from everyone else I knew or cared about, was making it incredibly easy to fall into the babyish state that Mommy wanted me in for the next few days. Who was I kidding? I wanted to be in the state too. “Well?” Mommy asked as we took a few steps into her room. No, not a room–an entire suite. “What do you think?” I had wide-eyes and an open mouth. My head was shaking. “Th-this is nicer than my apartment.” “No offense,” she said. “But it better be. Go ahead, take a look around.” The living room we were in seemed to act as a central hub to the suite, with doorways branching off a kitchen, a bedroom, a bathroom, and…another room? The thought of there being another bedroom–and the possibility of being sent there to sleep with Mommy, was a little distressing. I jumped from room to room, quickly scanning everything. Everything was immaculate. Everything felt designed. Curated. Just by walking on the carpet with my cheap sneakers, I felt like I was corrupting this space. King bed. One of the biggest TVs I had ever seen. A fridge already stocked with assorted beverages and snacks. I felt like every time I turned a corner, I was in awe of something else. I was admiring the jetted tub in the bathroom when I heard Mommy walk up behind me. “That should make bathtime fun, yes?” “Y-yes, Mommy.” “There’s a toilet and a bidet too,” she said, pointing to the units on the opposite side of the room. “Not that you should get too excited about that. You certainly won’t be needing them.” It was a very obvious point, but one that still made my cheeks glow. “You have one room left to investigate,” she said with a smirk. The other bedroom–which I had started to write off as just excess space that we wouldn’t need. But now that she was trying to shepherd me to it, I was curious. It was, in fact, another bedroom. Except the bed had been pushed all the way against the wall, leaving a large space in the middle of the room, which was now occupied with a playpen. Among other things. “What…is all this?” “Surprise,” she said, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me. “It’s not the full-on nursery I wanted–but there’s not much you can do when we only have the place for a few days.” Next to the playpen was a large flat pad on the ground, next to some neatly stacked piles of diapers. The more I looked around the room, the more I noticed. The pacifiers and baby toys. Clothing laid out on the bed. Baby food jars and baby bottles. “H-how did you do all this?” I asked. “I made some calls,” she said. “I’m an executive, that’s what I do–execute. I ordered some things and had them sent here. Hired someone to set it all up. It was a piece of cake, really.” “All this for…me?” “Let’s not pretend that I don’t get anything out of this,” she said. I wanted to cry. I might’ve been, a little bit. I couldn’t think of the last time that someone had gone this far out of their way to create such an experience for me. She was right–this was likely just as much for her. But it made me feel like the most important baby in the world at that moment. How do I thank her for this? There was only one real answer. I’d just give her what she wanted. I immediately dropped to my knees, my thumb in my mouth. I looked up at her face, hoping my face would express how spoiled this pathetically dumb baby was feeling. “Look how precious you are,” she said, running a hand through my hair. “Are you ready? To just be my baby and nothing else?” My head was automatically nodding. My entire body felt consumed by the lust I felt for her. “Let’s get you out of these clothes,” she said. “I think I’d like to see you crawling around in just your diapers for a bit.” Such a simple desire, but it was something we never really had the space to do. Aside from the confines of her office, there wasn’t anywhere that I could just be a free-range baby. “It’s not a changing table,” she said, pointing to the long pad, “but I thought this would do nicely for the next few days. A changing pad. Why don’t you lie down on it so that Mommy can undress you.” I quickly crawled over to it, flopping myself down on my back. My feet were already up in the air without her asking–eagerly anticipating her hands to free me of the useless adult clothing I wore. She plucked my shoes and socks off first, followed by my pants. Then, she helped me out of my shirt and tee–leaving me entirely nude except for my diaper. “Quite wet,” she said, grasping the bottom of the diaper and squeezing. “But I knew this. You made a pee-pee in the ride over, didn’t you?” I nodded, my thumb back in my mouth again. “Poor Mr. Joel, he probably had no idea what to make of that little scene, huh?” I shook my head. I thought back to the things I had said while in the backseat of the car. I could barely believe that was me. Had I actually said the word ‘poopies’ out loud? “It’s wet enough for a change,” she said. “But…I don’t see a point in changing you if you’re going to need a diaper again soon. Do you need to go, Baby?” I could feel some pressure in my bowels. There wasn’t a dramatic urgency yet, but it was enough that I could probably coax something into my diaper if I wanted. “Yeth, Mommy,” I said, the thumb giving my words a perfectly infantile lisp. “Why don’t I leave you in this diaper for now,” she said. “Go on and crawl around. Explore. I’m going to be unpacking a few things.” “Uhm…Mommy?” “Yes, darling?” “Wh-what if I…go.” “Say the word, Baby. I know that you can.” “P-poop. What if I…poop?” “What do you mean, ‘what if?’ I’m expecting you to. Don’t think about it. Just do it.” “But…thould I find you? Or…” “I’ll find you,” she said. “Trust me, I’ll know if it happens. When it happens.” I was on my own in the makeshift nursery. I started to climb up to my feet, but I thought better of it and got back down on my hands and knees again. Even when Mommy wasn’t here watching me, I wanted to be a baby. And, strangely, when left to my own devices, I found it even easier to let that headspace take over. I crawled. And it was so fun to have room to crawl around that I did a few laps around the room. Such a stupid thing. Only a baby would enjoy this. I grabbed one of the new pacifiers and slid it into my mouth, letting my slobbery thumb land back on the soft carpet again without any regard for things like germs or dirt. Next, I clumsily pawed at the new toys she had bought for me. Oversized plastic keys. A rattle. A plush dinosaur. Giant chunky blocks. Do babies actually like these sorts of things? What are you even supposed to do with… But then a few minutes quickly passed as I sat in my soaked diaper, idly shaking stupid baby toys around in my hands. I’m such a baby. I felt my cock straining in my cage. Such a baby. Fuck. I couldn’t get enough of those words. I’m a baby. A baby. That’s me. I’m a big baby now. A big stupid toddler. A diaper-filling little… I got back on my hands and knees again and began crawling around the room again, the plush dinosaur–a stegosaurus that felt like a ‘Spike’ to me–still clutched in one of my hands. I didn’t even realize what I was looking for when I started my latest loop around the room, but then it dawned on me: I was looking for a place to poop. A summer or two ago, I was at a summer barbecue hosted by my cousin. They had a little girl, maybe no older than 2. At one point she waddled out of view of everyone, prompting my mother to ask where little Jessie had gone. “She only really does that when she has to make a dirty diaper,” my cousin had said. “She’s at that age where she knows she’s supposed to start learning how to use a toilet, but chooses to use her diaper anyway. So she’ll sneak off and poop her pants while nobody’s watching.” I could relate to that. I found a nice little place alcove between the playpen–which I only then realized was quite large–and the bed where I felt like I could do my business. I’m not sure if it felt right, but it certainly felt safe. I grunted and pushed, expecting my body to offer more resistance. It didn’t, perhaps having already given in to the same primal and babyish urges my brain was being overwritten by. Most of it was pushed into the diaper all at once, a firm mess that expanded the back of the diaper considerably. I reached behind myself and felt the bottom of the diaper as I pushed again, getting the last of it out–each push expanding the diaper’s size a little more. I had messed my diaper plenty of times in the last few weeks. In front of people. With the help of suppositories. In places that I probably shouldn’t have messed myself. But even when it felt good–and, honestly, it always felt good–it didn’t feel like it did now. There was something about being in this room, surrounded by these things, and being left by myself, that made this feel better than it had ever felt before. My hand glided back and forth over the back of the diaper, feeling the shape and size of my mess. I squeezed at it a little. “Unh.” My cock strained again. Fuck. This was a mistake. My hormones were all over the place and the pleasure-center of my mind was combusting. What was I supposed to do? All this sexual energy. All this desire. And absolutely nothing to do with it. I let myself fall back on my ass, squishing the sizable mess between my ass cheeks and the diaper. I slid back and forth in my diaper a few times, just little movements, feeling the mess spread even further. I needed Mommy so badly. I needed her to tell me how much of a naughty little baby I was being. I needed her to tell me how badly I smelled–because I was already quite stinky. I needed her to…literally do anything. If she wanted to throw carrot sticks at me, I’d have gladly accepted that. I needed Mommy to fuck me. No plan. No thought. No conscious decisions being made. I let my head fill itself with fantasies and wishes while hips continued to gyrate back and forth in the diaper, smushing the contents into a disaster that I couldn’t begin to grasp. Just a big stupid baby. Look at me. So stupid. So fucking horny. Stinky. Making poopy diapers and helplessly squirming around. So pathetic. So, so, fucking pathetic. Such a hopeless little… “What’s going on in here?” My body froze in place and my neck craned to the door where I found Mommy in the doorway. I had no idea what to say. I wasn’t even sure if I could form words if I wanted to. “Believe it or not, it wasn’t the stench of your dirty diaper that got me back in here,” she said. “It was the sound of a diaper crinkling so much I thought you were wrestling with it. And…maybe you were?” I clutched Spike tightly looking down at the loaded diaper between my legs. I had completely forgotten about shame–it’s an emotion seemingly reserved for people who know better–but it was finally washing over me. What was I doing? What had I let myself become? “Just look at you,” she said, shaking her head. “This is…apocalyptic.” Was it that bad? I had no idea. No clue how to even gauge how bad things might be. “I’m not sure how you did it,” she continued, “but this is a certified blowout. Look at you. It’s coming out the waistband. And the leg bands. And you even got it on the carpet!” I looked down at my diaper again, lacking the entire picture she was seeing, but seeing enough. “Come here,” she said. “Crawl over here, to the changing pad.” I did so, finally showing a little caution as I slowly lifted my dirty bottom from the carpet so I could crawl back to her and the changing pad. It was a short distance, but it might as well have been an entire pad. Her eyes were fixated on me as I lurched forward, one knee or forearm at a time, with my absolutely filthy diaper swaying in the air behind me. “I’m not upset,” she said, her lips forming back into a small smile again as I laid back down on my back on the padding. “But I am a little curious as to what was going on in here.” I pulled the pacifier from my mouth, taking my time with the words as I re-learned how to speak: “I got…carried away.” She chuckled softly as she began to untape the diaper. “What were you thinking about?” “You. The diaper. Everything…” “Everything,” she repeated. “That’s a lot.” I nodded. “It felt like a lot.” The diaper was pulled open, completely exposing the messy contents within. I didn’t dare look down at myself to see what I had done. Instead, I looked up at her face. She looked as composed and confident as she always did, even if I could tell that she was unsure of where to start in the cleanup effort. “I thought this thing would make things a little easier for us,” she said, gently jostling my caged manhood. “A ‘set it and forget it’ sort of thing, you know? But it seems to have turned you into the horniest little babe who’s ever lived.” “I…I’m sorry,” I said. It felt worth repeating: “I got carried away.” “It’s nothing to be sorry for,” she said, stroking my cheek with the back of her hand. “I like you like this.” “R-really?” “Don’t pretend you didn’t already know that.” There was more I wanted to tell her, but I wasn’t sure if I should or not. As it turned out, I wasn’t so far out of my baby-space that I could stop myself if I wanted to. “I just want to c*m so badly.” Her smile got bigger as she pulled the first damp wipe from the package. “Of course you do. Do your diapers make you horny?” “Unnnh,” I groaned–a guttural reaction I hadn’t seen coming. “Probably not just diapers,” she said. “But specifically dirty diapers, huh? I bet you just love the feeling of them.” She was right, though it was far more than that. It was, literally, everything. Everything made me horny. “I promise you, I’ll give you your c*mmies,” she cooed to me as she began to carefully clean away the mess from my skin. “N-now?” “No,” she said, giggling. “Not now.” “Then…when?” “You’ll know when it’s time. I promise you that.” I could’ve whined some more, but I didn’t want to sound any more pathetic than I already did. Besides, the more I whined, the more at risk I was of convincing Mommy that she should postpone my cock’s relief. “Yes, Mommy.” “Good boy. Now, I’m afraid I have some news that you might not be entirely happy with.” My heart sank in my chest. “Yes?” “An old colleague of mine is in town for the same conference. It was a last minute decision on her part, apparently.” “Oh,” I said, expecting this to be the part where she told me that she’d be spending some time with her friend instead of with me. “She’s asked me to get drinks with her this evening. Maybe go to some clubs. But, I have other plans.” She smiled at me. “So…” “I won’t be going out to the club with her tonight. Still, social obligations being what they are, I can’t not see her while we’re both in town, so I agreed that we’d meet her for dinner.” “We?” “Afraid so. So, assuming we’re ever able to fully clean this stinky catastrophe you’ve created, we’ll need to get downtown to meet Gretchen.” “D-does she know about my…diapers?” “She doesn’t, actually,” she said, laughing. “Let’s see how long we can keep this a secret from her.” “So do I…have to wear a new one?” “Oh yes,” she said, playfully booping me on the nose. “You’re still a baby. You’ll always be a baby.” I accepted this change of plans very quickly. As always, I trusted her. The details of what we did, who we met, and when we did any of it, were far above me now.

I had just turned 18 years old. I was getting ready for my Freshman year of college. I was accepted at State University in Greenmore. It was a 3 1/2 drive there and back. I wasn't looking foreward to driving 7 hours a day, just to go to school. Mom's best friend Aunt Kathy, and Uncle John lived in Greenmore. They were not really my Aunt and Uncle. Mom and Kathy were best friends from Grade School through mom's Sophomore year at State. She met dad and the rest is history as the say, mom married dad the end of their Junior year. Aunt Kathy married Uncle John what would of been my mom's and her Senior year. Mom moved here and Aunt Kathy got a Masters Degree in Education. Mom had me, then about a year later, Aunt Kathy had Evelyn. Aunt Kathy about 9 months later had John Jr. John Jr. was a preemie, he had always been a sickly kid, his lungs never developed enough. As a kid he had the little oxygen maker that he wore over his shoulder, with a nasal cannula up his nose. Looked like one of those old guys with Emphysema. John Jr. never got to be a real kid. He never got to play football, play tag, do anything a real kid got to do. When we went there or they came here for a visit, I saw Evelyn, and John Jr. get diapers at night. I guess they both wet their beds, it was okay though, I had a huge crush on Evelyn! She had to be the most beautiful girl I knew. I was about 13 or 14 years old last we seen of each other. Aunt Kathy used to diaper them together, in the livingroom. Evelyn was my dream girl when I discovered masturbation she was the one that I imagined. I was going to move in with Aunt Kathy, Uncle John, and Evelyn. John Jr. had died about a year and a half ago. He got the Covid and as sickly as he was lasted about 3 days before it killed him. He was diagnosed on Friday afternoon and died early Monday morning. It was more than his poor little body could endure. I was offered his room to live in while I was going to school in Greenmore. Mom and dad were not rich, so living with Aunt Kathy, Uncle John and Evelyn was a God send! There was no way we could afford for me to stay at the dorms!

Haian pull on adult plastic pants. 3 in a pack £22.99. I bought medium as I wear medium nappies and they're a good fit - plenty of room to accommodate a full load LOL but small enough to fit nicely. They are HUGE on the side but I just fold them down and the leg seams are fairly tight but as that's where 99% of your leaks come from, it's no bad thing. The brands @Beccathelittle recommended just weren't available in the UK.

No, multiple. Babies go through a LOT, you know!???

Curious to see what gonna happen next

Aww shucks

Babies do not have pubes...so best to keep them short or not have at all.

I think I know why I’m not getting a nice tight fit. As I got ready to lay in bed I fixed my diaper. And noticed that both my taps on bot sides were touching. Both top and bottom. Next time put one on I will pay attention to how far apart they are. And see if that helps @~Brian~ @DAQ @oznl @Little Sherri @Young1 @Rachel1 @Little Belle @rusty pins @spark

@munkey That is awesome! Keep us updated.

@Little Sherri Man I would love to see that Spreadsheet. Especially the archived part of the ones that are not in circulation. If you can pm me that that would be great. Or a image of it.

I also thought she has a secret. I have a feeling she has a humiliation kink with diapers. That’s what I have lol.

Chapter 8 The Doctor Visit On Monday night, Uncle Scott asked Aunt Susan if she set up a doctor’s appointment for both Lacey and me at dinner, and she nodded. “I did set up an appointment, but I found out something important about their situation,” Aunt Susan told him. “First of all, Lacey is completely toilet trained, though she does feel like has to ask to go to the bathroom if she’s wearing panties, and if she’s wearing a diaper, she thinks she has to go in her pants. She’s in panties right now.” Uncle Scott smiled. “That’s a good thing, the kids are at least potty trained. “Hold on,” Aunt Susan told him. “I said Lacey was potty trained. Valana has other stuff going on that complicates her toilet training.” “Like?” “Well, she has to ask to go, too, she thinks, only she’s not allowed to say certain words, and she’s used to being denied to go, and then getting hit for not making it in time, so she has gotten used to secretly wetting herself. She feels safer peeing in her pants than telling people she has to go, and she can’t tell us if she has to, what she calls doing the other, but basically poop. She will use the toilet if we make her poop in the toilet, but the problem is, we have get her to ask us, and she has a hard time doing that.” He frowned as he heard the explanation. “So, what are we going to do?” “Well, I still want her checked for other confusing problems that will make toilet training harder for her. I’ll have to teach her to ask us to use the toilet though, and eventually to encourage her to go without permission. So for right now, I’ve just given her permission to just keep wetting her pants until we know what the doctor says.” He nodded. “And I’m going to try an experiment with her, because she’s not allowed to say certain words, and because she’s not allowed to draw attention to herself in public, she’s going to make a certain gesture at me after she says my name. If I can get her to consistently do that, then I’ll know if she has to poop, and I’ll take her to the girls’ in public, or at home, she can hold her butt and everyone will know she has to, so whoever sees her holding her butt, can get an adult or even Jason, and one of us can take her.” “I agree,” Uncle Scott said. “But are you sure you want Jason taking her?” “Well, Jason took her to the toilet when they went swimming this afternoon. Some lady was being mean to them because she hadn’t seen them at the pool, and so Jason went to call me, and though Valana said she didn’t mean to, Jason said he recognized her doing a potty dance, so he took her so as not to give the woman the satisfaction of seeing his cousin have an accident.” Uncle Scott nodded. “I just thought she wanted to pee at first,” Jason explained to Uncle Scott, “but when I got her on the toilet, she apologized and started pooping, so actually, I’m glad I got her there before she started to do that in her pants because she wasn’t wearing a diaper since we were all in swimsuits and she was swimming.” I looked down the whole time. “Both me and Valana peed a little bit in our swimsuit before we went potty though because it was hard to hold it long enough.” Uncle looked at me and Jason. “I meant, she made it and didn’t poop her pants,” Jason said. “I did see her leak a little bit before I took her, but ignored it. She might have even peed in her swimsuit again on the way back to the pool, but she didn’t poop her pants.” He nodded. I looked down ashamed of myself. I admitted. “I can’t really pee in the toilet. I always get nervous even if someone puts me there, and I can’t finish, and I pee my pants.” Uncle smiled at me. “Well, that’s okay. Your aunt will break you of that nervousness in time, sweetheart. As for our communication for you to tell us you need to, what you call doing the other, that’s what we’ll do so you don’t feel like you’re saying a dirty word.” “There is one little problem though,” Aunt Susan said. “Lacey is wearing panties, but there are times when she’ll still end up wetting her pants, and Valana is a little bit scared you’ll hit her.” “Well, I promised I wouldn’t hit you kids,” he told me. “I meant it. While you are in my house, no one is going to raise a belt or anything like that at you. If you have to be spanked, it will only be with a hand, sweetheart.” I nodded. “You will not be spanked for wetting or doing the other in your pants, either one of you, and you will not be spanked if you are just telling us you need the potty.” I looked down. I don’t know how to ask to go potty though. Well, I can hold my hand though now, so Maybe Aunt Susan will take me and I won’t do the other in my pants anymore. “Mommy,” Jessica suddenly told everyone. “Lacey peed her pants.” Aunt Susan smiled. “Remember, Jessica, I told you that Lacey isn’t fully potty trained right?” “You just said she was potty trained to daddy.” “But I also told him there are certain times she’s scared to ask to go.” “So she’s scared to ask right now?” Aunt Susan nodded. “I’m sorry,” Lacey told her. “I usually don’t have to go at dinner time. I don’t understand why I keep going at dinnertime.” “It might be the time difference, sweetheart.” “But you made dinner at seven,” she told my aunt. “Honey, the time is one hour behind where we live from where you lived. I know it’s confusing because we don’t live that far from you, but our homes are kind of the border of the time zone, and so seven our time is eight your time.” I looked down. “That’s probably it, little sis. You are used to eating an hour earlier and so your body is used to not going at around six here, but we eat at seven.” Lacey scratched her head. “I wet my pants.” “We know,” Aunt Susan told her. “And we’ll clean you up as soon as we can, okay?” She nodded. “I’m wet, too,” I admitted to Aunt Susan, but that meant the whole table heard. I knew, somehow, that Uncle Scott was going to be like daddy. He was going to say it wasn’t my fault, and he wasn’t going to take his belt off to hit me. “You,” he glared at Margaret. “Not one word to your cousins about this problem.” She shrugged. “I wasn’t going to. I know you think they are more babies than Jessica.” Uncle Scott sighed. It was as if he felt like Margaret was missing something, and he had no idea how to explain that to her. “Well, I made the appointment for them for Wednesday, but I don’t have a way to get them there.” “Yes, you do,” Uncle told my Aunt. “When I get up for work on Wednesday, you get Jason up and have him babysit the children, and then you take me to work. Then you’ll have the car. I’ll take the bus system home so you don’t have to worry about how long it takes while you are out.” Aunt Susan nodded. “If you work overtime, call me though so I can come and get you.” He nodded. “Agreed. We need to find out if there is anything that will get in the way of potty training Valana right, and also if anything is causing Lacey trouble.” Aunt Susan nodded. I looked down. I hoped I wasn’t causing too much trouble. We went to sleep that night, and I slept comfortably this time. I don’t remember any dreams, but I woke up having to pee really bad. My diaper was dry. I sighed, because I was used to wetting, and no one was there to get us yet, so I started to relax and just pee my pants. Lacey was wearing a diaper to bed because she told Aunt Susan that she wets the bed sometimes. Just before I started to wet, I thought her diaper felt dry, so I checked her putting a finger in her leg hole and seeing if it was dry. It was. The door opened, and I saw Margaret at the door. “So, you are really not allowed to say poop, shit, and crap?” she asked me. I looked down. “Is your sister allowed to say those words?” I shrugged. “Did you wet your pants?” I kept looking down. I didn’t want to listen to her. “If you don’t answer me, I’m going to not only check you, but force you to do it again because if you don’t listen to me, remember, Lacey….” “I wet my pants,” I told her. “I was awake, and I peed in my pants already, so I can’t pee right now.” She smiled. “Let me see if you peed.” I pulled back the blankets and sheets and let her see my diaper. “See? I peed my pants.” At that moment, Aunt Susan came in, and she narrowed her eyes at Margaret. “What are you doing in here bugging your cousins?” she asked her. “I was just checking if the girls wet. I just found out that Valana did, and I was about to check Lacey.” “Well, that’s not your job, little miss. Go wash your hands and get some breakfast before I think you were up to no good.” She nodded and ran out of the room. Aunt Susan came over and helped me out of bed. “It’s okay,” she said though she must have noticed there were no leaks last night since Lacey didn’t even wet and I just wet this morning, and it didn’t go out of my diaper. “Aunt Susan,” Lacey stirred. “Can I go to the potty?” Aunt Susan smiled and nodding, she reached for Lacey’s hand to take her. I saw Auntie pull Lacey’s diaper back a little bit before she picked her up and carried to the bathroom. I continued to pee my pants some more. I lied to Margaret about not being able to go some more because I don’t like being watched while I pee my pants. But the truth was, I just drizzled some when she checked, and I was still going to wet myself for a few minutes because it almost never all came out at once. I was too used to wetting carefully on purpose so my body couldn’t really pee all at once anymore. When Auntie brought Lacey back, she took off her diaper, and it was still dry, and then still kind of treating her like a little girl, she helped her get dressed. Lacey didn’t mind though, and I didn’t either. Lacey was sort of used to people dressing her even before we started staying with Aunt Susan. Then she turned to me. “You want to change your diaper?” she asked me. I shook my head no. “No?” Aunt Susan asked me. “Why not, honey?” “It’s because she’s not done peeing,” Lacey told her for me. “Well, if you’re not done peeing,” Aunt Susan told me. “I could take you to the toilet, honey.” I shook my head. “Scared to go?” I nodded. “Okay. You can just come to breakfast, and I’ll check on you again after breakfast, baby.” “She’s not allowed to pee her pants at the table,” Lacey reminded us. “She is allowed to do what she is told, isn’t she?” Aunt Susan tried to reason. “But only if it’s not wetting her pants at the table. She will be scared if you make her wet at the table.” Aunt Susan frowned. “Well, how about this, then,” Susan told us. “How about you and your sister play for a little while, and I’ll go get dressed…,” Aunt Susan had on her night gown and a robe. “And when I come back, I’ll check your sister and see if she’s wet enough to be changed?” We both nodded. I tried to pee my pants again, to try to hurry it, but it did drizzle for a moment, but then stopped. I was too nervous to pee all at once in case I get caught by the wrong person, especially the dark man from my dreams. The dark man was Lacey’s dad, of course. The daddy she had before our daddy came and hit him for hitting mom and me at the park that day. Slowly, I peed myself, little by little until I had a soggy diaper on, and then I smiled at Lacey. “You finished?” I nodded. It wasn’t but a few seconds after that, that Aunt Susan appeared at the door, and she looked in at us. “Can I change my little niece now?” she asked me. I nodded. “I peed my pants, now.” She took me to Mike’s bed, the one without any blankets but just a plastic to protect the bed, and she took off my wet diaper, and carefully wiped me. I had a growing redness, and she sighed. “Don’t move, baby.” She left for a moment bringing back some wet wipes and a tube of medicine. She saw me scratching in an investigating sort of way at my privates, and she gently but firmly took my hand away. “No, honey,” she said like she was scolding a small child. “You’ll make it worse if you pull that skin off. This will help.” I let her put the medicine on, and then she powdered me and put a clean diaper on me. “There we are,” she said when she finished getting a clean diaper on me. “Now, get dressed, sweetheart.” She took Lacey with her probably to the kitchen so I could get dressed by myself. I was glad she put the medicine on me. It didn’t itch as much, and it was a little bit hurting, but it didn’t hurt now. I put on some jeans and plaid red top. Sometime after breakfast, Jason came into the house, where I was watching television with Aunt Susan, and he asked her: “My friend’s sister wants to meet Valana and Lacey. Can I take them to their house with me?” Aunt Susan looked up at him. “I’m not sure if Lacey will use the toilet there.” “Well, you could put her in a diaper,” he told Aunt Susan. “She’s worn one before. I think they will have fun. It’s that girl I told you about before that doesn’t really have many friends, and she’s Valana’s age. I think Valana and her might get along.” “Well, you need to watch Valana carefully, and bring a diaper bag, and if you see Lacey acting like she has to pee, I want you to ask her if she wants to use the toilet and encourage her to go since she is potty trained, more or less.” “I will.” Then before I knew it, I was holding Lacey’s hand, and Jason was leading us to his friend’s house. “Don’t worry if you wet, Valana,” he told me. “No one will notice but me. That goes for you, too, Lacey. You can also ask me if you want to go, and I’ll try to keep an eye on you so if you are scared to tell me, I’ll take you if I see you doing a potty dance.” I frowned. “I don’t want you to take me if I am going to pee.” “Why not?” “Because it will tell everyone else she is wetting her pants,” Lacey told him. “Even if you put her on the toilet, she can’t go all the way at one time, and she gets nervous and can’t finish, and then wets her pants anyway. If you let on she has to pee, she’s scared the girl will see and then make fun of her.” Jason nodded. “Well, you know the secret code with your hand?” I nodded. “Just do that so you don’t have to poop your pants, okay?” I nodded. We were at the house about half an hour walk away, and Jason went to the doorbell and rang it while Lacey and me hung back a little ways. A boy came to the door. He had yellow blond hair and a big smile. “You brought your little cousins!” he sounded excited. “Ruth is going to be so happy!” He ducked behind the door and said something to someone, and then he poked his head back around at us, and smiling, he waved us into their house. I was a little bit nervous. It was clean, as if the mom or someone just cleaned it. I saw a tall thin lady with yellow blond hair, and looking down, I mumbled. “Hi.” She smiled. “Such a precious shy little thing, isn’t she?” she asked my cousin Jason. He nodded. “Well, she’s had a rough time, so it takes time for her to warm up to adults.” The woman nodded. Then, I saw this brown hair girl with some light freckles, come out of another room around the corner, and she was sitting in a wheelchair. Her green eyes looked up at me. She looked at me with a question in her eyes. It looked like she was asking: “Do you want to be friends,” but she looked scared to talk. I walked over to her, and I could smell her. She had peed her pants, but I didn’t say anything. I knew that was embarrassing. I just squatted down so we were eye level. “I’m, um… Valana,” I held out my hand. Ruth smiled up at me. “You… you… you want to play?” she asked. “Ruth is in fifth grade this year,” Jason told us. “But she’s twelve years old.” I smiled and nodded. I didn’t care what grade she was in. She was a girl almost my age, and she wanted to play with me. Lacey smiled too. “So she’s only two years older than me?” Jason nodded. “She can’t do some of the active things you guys want, when it comes to running,” her brother told us. “But she can play like basketball, if you learn to play it her way.” My sister and I agreed immediately. They took us out back, and there were some other wheelchairs out there. The girl started to teach us how she plays basketball, and what is allowed so it was fair. “If you stand up, it’s cheating, and I get a penalty shot,” she told us. I nodded. “That’s only fair.” Jason and his friend got in a couple of chairs, and I got in a chair, and Lacey frowned because there wasn’t another one for her. “You get in my chair,” I told Lacey. “Then I can’t accidentally stand up and cheat.” She nodded and happily got in my lap. The basket was set a lot lower, but being trapped in a wheelchair to throw the ball was a lot harder than when you have your legs. I never realized how hard it might be for someone in a wheelchair to try to throw a ball. But Ruth and her brother were very patient, and they taught Lacey and me how to handle the ball for a while before we started to play two on two. Of course, Ruth had her brother on her side, and we had Jason on our side. We were having so much fun! We played for like an hour or so, and then we went inside, and we played a video game with their game system hooked up to the living room television. Their mom made us some delicious cookies and gave us milk, and then when we were tired of video games, we all went to Ruth’s room, and we started making some bracelets and necklaces with her beads crafting set. She was so willing to share, that she gave Lacey the last of her pink sparkling beads, and Lacey didn’t even ask for them. I didn’t notice anything until we started to walk home, and that’s when I felt that my pants felt kind of heavy. I pushed my hand under me, and realized I had peed a lot in my diaper, probably throughout the afternoon. Somehow, I completely missed that I peed my pants. It was like a real accident. I’m glad that a certain person is not in charge of us. I would have really gotten it. As it was, Jason saw me feeling my butt, and he asked me. “Can you hold it?” “Oh, I already peed my pants,” I whispered to him. “I’m not worried about that. I thought you were going to do that anyway. I’m talking about you gesturing that you need to do the other.” “Oh, um,” I blushed. “I wasn’t signaling. I was just realizing I wet and checking if it was wet in back or how heavy it looked. I hope I didn’t embarrass you at your friend’s house.” “No, little cousin, you didn’t. No one even noticed you were wet, but even if they had noticed, it wouldn’t have bothered me, sweetheart. You have problems, and by now, you probably know that Ruth has her own problems.” “Yeah, she peed her pants when we first met,” Lacey told him. “I didn’t notice that.” “Well, I did. But it’s okay. I don’t care about that. I just hope we get to play with them again.” “You liked her, then?” We both nodded. “She was so much fun to play with,” I told Jason. “And she was nice, too. She gave Lacey her last few sparkling pink beads for her necklace, see? I told Lacey that it would be rude to take it, but then she said it would be rude to not take it since she was offering it.” I wasn’t sure what was right when she said it that way. But I was sure that Jason knew, so I was actually looking up at him wondering if we should have taken it or not. “Well, you are guests,” he ventured to tell me what was right. “And in some cultures, it can be rude to refuse a gift, so if she was offering it, maybe Ruth thought of it as giving her new friend a gift.” I nodded. When we got home, Aunt Susan checked both us girls, and Lacey was having so much fun, and probably felt a little scared to ask, so she ended up wetting her diaper. It was kind of a good thing that she decided to put one on Lacey for our visit, because Lacey didn’t get embarrassed and have to explain herself, and Aunt Susan didn’t ask her what happened either. I think she knew what happened, so she never said anything about it. At dinner, Uncle Scott told Aunt Susan she was going to have her hands full trying to think of everything to tell the doctor, so he turned to Jason. “Jason, I want you to take your sisters and brother swimming or to the park tomorrow, and maybe make them lunch. When I get back from work, you’ll get some babysitting money.” Jason smiled. Margaret frowned, and whined. “I could babysit….” “You have a lot to prove to us before we let you babysit anyone for awhile,” Aunt Susan told her. “You poured water on your sister’s bed, picked on your little cousins even though you were told they were not potty trained, and you keep trying to embarrass them. That is not someone I’d trust babysitting anyone!” Uncle Scott nodded siding with Aunt Susan. That is a punishment I was more than okay with. Margaret didn’t get hurt, but she didn’t get something she wanted because she was being mean. I wish they would have told her that she couldn’t do anything like this the other day instead of hitting her, even with just Uncle Scott’s hand. I hated hitting. We all watched a Disney Movie before bed, and then baths were taken and eventually, Lacey and I were in bed again. I smiled at Lacey and hugging her, I whispered. “Good night.” She whispered “Good….” but was falling asleep before she said night. I just pulled her closer to me, and we slept. There was no darkness on this night. There were no voices. It was just calm, and I woke up to chirping birds outside my window. The sun cast a warm glow against the brown curtains in the window. Lacey was sleeping next to me, her one arm around me, but she was breathing normally. Everything looked nice, except I did have to pee. I knew I couldn’t go, so I just started drizzling. After some time, Lacey’s eyes batted open, and she looked up at me. “You think Aunt Susan meant it?” she asked me. “Meant what?” I asked a little confused. “That I’m allowed to wake her if I don’t want to wet the bed?” I frowned. “Well, if you can hold it, it would probably be safer.” Lacey nodded. “I know, but if I don’t ask, I’m gonna wet the bed.” I held her close to me and whispered. “Well, she said you could ask her. So, I’ll come with you, and if Uncle Scott looks like he’s getting mad, then I’ll get in the way and so he hits me.” “No,” Lacey sighed. “I’ll just pee my pants.” “You don’t have to. Aunt Susan said it was okay….” “But I don’t want to take a chance of Uncle Scott hitting you. I know you’ll protect me, and I don’t want you to get hit.” I sighed. “Well, if you can just wait a little bit, she usually comes to look in on us around now?” Lacey nodded. “I’ll try to wait a minute or however long I can.” I hugged her, and she peed in her diaper against me, and I kept drizzling on her, but in my diaper. We soon peed our pants, and then there was a shadow at the door, but it wasn’t Aunt Susan. It was Margaret. “Hey, Valana,” Margaret smiled at us. “I was just wondering why you aren’t down in the kitchen with my brothers and sister.” “We’re waiting for Aunt Susan.” “Because you both peed the bed again?” “Maybe,” I said to her not really wanting to tell her one way or the other. “Well, my mom took dad to work this morning. Remember? He needs the car to take you and Lacey to see a doctor.” I nodded now remembering. “I guess we’ll just wait here until she gets back then.” “You don’t gotta do that. Just come down and have breakfast. If you’re wet, you’re wet, or you could have my older brother change you.” I blushed. I had been taken potty by Jason once, but it was sort of strange to even use the bathroom in front of him, let alone let him change me. Lacey nodded. “He can change me. He did it before.” Margaret smiled. “So you did wet the bed, then. I thought you were toilet trained.” “She is,” I said getting out bed so I could make sure to stay between my sister and Margaret. “She just had an accident because… she just did.” “Well, if she just had an accident, then that makes it seem like she isn’t fully toilet trained.” “Maybe she just wets the bed. You are too much. Why do you care if she wets or poops her pants anyway?” I had my hand on my hip. “Well, I don’t really care, I guess,” Margaret said. “But you two ruined everything.” “What do you mean, we ruined everything?” “We had to go pick you two up, and that made it so I missed doing something fun with my friends during those two days, and then you caused me to get in trouble when I got back, so I couldn’t see my friends for two more days, and then you pretend to be babies and need diapers, and now, Lacey doesn’t use them in the day, and all this, to keep ruining my plans.” I didn’t really feel sorry for her. If she had not made Lacey poop her pants that first time, and if she would leave Lacey alone, then I might have felt differently, but as far as I could see it, her ruining her time was basically her fault. “Did you wet the bed, Lacey? Did you wet in your sleep?” Lacey looked down. “She wet on the bed,” I told Margaret trying to keep from addressing if Lacey was awake or not so we wouldn’t be lying. “I told you, she has accidents, and so I don’t care if you think Lacey or I am toilet trained or not. I just want you to leave my sister alone.” “You are such a good big sister,” Margaret was saying it in a way that I knew she was being sarcastic. “Don’t hurt my little sister, boohoo. You know, my mom and dad are not going to hit her if she wets herself, and they won’t even do it if she poops her pants on purpose. So it’s not going to hurt her if I get her to wet her pants on purpose.” “Well, she doesn’t want to do that, and I’m not letting you do that to her.” “Yeah, because you are such a perfect big sister,” she again used a fake exaggerated voice, that I knew she was mocking me, but I didn’t care. “You need to leave our room,” I told her. “It’s not your room,” she told me. “This room happens to be my brothers’ room, and you are lucky they are even letting you pee on their beds. If Jessica was wetting the bed, I doubt Mike would let her sleep in his bed, but here he is, letting Lacey sleep in it, only she doesn’t even want to. She sleeps by her big pants wetting sister instead.” I sighed. “Yeah, I know. So, what?” Margaret shook her head, but before she thought of something else to say, the door opened wider, and Jason was staring at me. Well, he wasn’t staring, actually. I was just really embarrassed because he saw me in a night shirt that didn’t cover my soaked diaper. “Margaret, leave my room,” Jason told her. “You know you aren’t allowed in here unless I’m in here.” “But perfect little babies Valana and Lacey are,” she mocked at him. “They aren’t babies. And right now, that’s the main reason you are not allowed in here.” He walked over to me, and put an arm on my shoulder. “Mom took dad to work. How is your diaper? Want to get changed, little cousin?” I shook my head. “I want Aunt Susan to do it.” “That’s okay. I thought you might say that, so why don’t you go get some breakfast? If you want, you can put your sweatpants on over your diaper so it is covered up.” “Jason?” Lacey called to him blushing a little bit. “Yes, Lacey?” “Can you change me? I accidentally wet my pants while I was waiting for your mom to come and get us. I want to wear panties now, but I don’t want to take the diaper off by myself because no one told me I could.” He nodded and looked at me. “Well, it’s up to your big sister,” he told Lacey. “Valana is protecting you like any good big sister, and so I should ask her if I can change your pants for you.” “Please, Valana?” I thought about it a moment, but Jason had already seen both of us naked and he had changed her the night before. I shrugged. “I guess Jason can change you if you are okay with it. But I want to be right at Lacey’s side, and if I don’t like something, you stop?” Jason nodded. “Of course. I would never want to touch you in a way that scares you, and that goes for your need to protect your little sister.” I smiled and I let Jason change her. He was really nice about it, and after he pulled her diaper off, he made her wait a few extra minutes though she wanted to get going right then, but he wanted to put some powder on her, and he wanted to make sure she didn’t need rash cream. She didn’t. Once he had gotten her diaper off her, and pointed at the drawer with her panties, he came over to me, and sat on the bed next to me. “I really don’t blame you not wanting me to change you, but if you still have a rash, and if it’s bad, you shouldn’t be in a wet diaper any longer than you have to be, and I promise not to hurt you.” I sighed. “Okay, you can change me.” We were in the living room, biding some time, watching television until it was time for aunt to take Lacey and me to the doctor. It was then that Margaret came in, and she put her hand on Lacey’s butt causing my little sister to jump. I jumped up and ran over to my sister who started to cry. “What are you doing?” I yelled at her. “Checking to see if your sister peed her diaper.” “She’s not wearing a …,” but before we could get into a heated debate, Aunt Susan cut us both off. “Margaret! Get over here!” I hoped she wasn’t going to get hit, but I was mad that she startled Lacey. I held Lacey in my arms, and she shivered and looked up at me. “Why she put her hand on my butt?” she asked me though her tears. “She’s just being Margaret,” I whispered to her. “I think she’s just mad at us.” “Why?” “I don’t know, Lacey. But she seems to always be trying to make trouble for us. Maybe it’s because this year isn’t like last year or something.” Lacey looked down. “Margaret, tell me, why do you keep picking on your cousins?” Aunt Susan demanded. “Because they pee their pants all the time, and even if they poop their pants, you just baby them. I am sure that if even Jessica had an accident and wet herself, you’d spank her.” “Honey, you have to know that’s not true. If she had an accident, I’d ask her what happened first, and then if it kept happening and she couldn’t explain, the next thing I’d do is take her to see a doctor. No one would just spank her for wetting herself out of the blue.” “You haven’t even spanked them once since they got here. I think you love them more than me, and daddy is always picking Valana up as if she is a little girl, but he hasn’t even hugged me since they got here.” “Honey, he’s hugged you.” “No. He hasn’t, mom. And you are always mad at me.” “You keep being mean to people, sweetheart. I’m mad because you are being mean not only to your cousins, but your little sister, too.” Margaret looked down. “You don’t love me.” Aunt Susan took Margaret by the hand and led her over to her chair, and then helped her into her lap. As she patted her daughter on the thighs, she tried to explain to her. “Margaret, your cousins have been through some terrible torture. I don’t want to go into details because it will scare you as to how much torture they’ve endured, especially the elder one.” “She’s making it up, mom,” Margaret said with a sigh. “Honey, she hasn’t told me anything before I discovered it on my own. Do you really think she’d just sit there and pee her pants in front of everyone, knowing that it cost her her friends at school, knowing she got hit when she was little, and knowing that she feels like she’s going to get hit at any moment every time she gets caught wetting her pants?” “But I think she’s just making it up, to get you to pay attention to her.” “Honey, it’s not natural for a girl…,” and then suddenly, Aunt Susan moved Margaret off her lap and I saw Margaret peeing her pants. I ran over, and got between them as fast as I could. “Don’t hit her! It as an accident,” I looked up at Aunt Susan. “You can hit me. It was my fault. I keep peeing my pants! She’s just copying me. I’m the one that made her pee her pants! Don’t hit her!” Aunt Susan reached around me, and lifting Margaret a few inches from the floor, help her to stand in front of her pushing me a bit to the side, but gently, and she hugged her daughter. “No one is hitting anyone,” Aunt Susan told me. Then she looked at Margaret. “Why?” she asked her. “Because Valana pees her pants, and you hug her. Lacey pees her pants, and you pick her up and hold her and tell her it’s okay. I wanted to know if you loved me, too.” Susan reached down, pulled Margaret up and into her lap as she sat, and let Margaret sit in her lap, even though Margaret was wearing panties and so had on soaking wet jeans. She put her arms around her again, and patted her wet lap. “Baby, mommy loves you. You don’t need to pee your pants for attention, sweetheart. I don’t know what you are thinking, but I don’t love your cousins more than I love you. I love each of you in your own special way, and you are my daughter, sweetheart. Jessica is my baby. Jason is my young man and very good special helper, and Mike is my little engineer.” I smiled when I saw that Aunt Susan was holding Margaret gently and trying to explain that she loved her. “I don’t believe you,” Margaret was crying a little bit. “You let Valana wear diapers and pee her pants all the time. You baby her every time she pees her pants, and daddy is always holding her and telling her it’s okay. But I’m sure if I peed even half as many times as she did, you’d get really mad.” “Honey, if there is a reason for you to wet your pants, and I knew it was something you were struggling with….” “But I am struggling, mom! I see you and dad babying the cousins, dad still holds Jessica in his lap, too, when we are watching television at night, and Mike and Jason are still called by their… um… they know they are special, and I am just sitting all alone and thinking… maybe I should start pottying my pants on purpose to get some attention, but then I think I’ll get in trouble.” Aunt Susan shook her head. “Honey, you wouldn’t get in trouble from me if you wet your pants, and I’d talk to your dad if you really felt like you had to do that, but you don’t, honey. We love you. I’m sorry you felt like this lately. But you’ve been being mean to your cousins since we picked them up.” “Because I knew it would be like last summer, only that time, I only had to put up with it for a week. I wanted to get them in trouble going to the toilet in their pants first thing so I’d know if you really were treating them different from me.” Aunt Susan sighed. “I had to treat them different, honey. At first, I thought their mother didn’t potty train them correctly, but it turns out things are worse than that. Their mother may have been abused herself, even.” “But…, you still let Valana pee her pants, and you don’t even scold her to use the toilet.” “Honey, I don’t want to scare her. She’s been through a lot, and taking her to the doctor is the first step because I do plan to try to potty train her.” “I want to see if you really love me,” Margaret looked down. “Well, I’m trying to tell you that I do.” “I can’t believe it right now.” “Well, what do you want me to do, be mean to your cousins and abuse them some more when they’ve already been hurt so much?” “No.” “Well, what do you want me to do to prove it.” “Let me pee my pants today and take care of me like if I’m Lacey,” Margaret looked down blushing. “Honey, I don’t think you are going to like peeing your pants. It’s gross and it makes you feel bad.” Margaret nodded. “I know. I can feel that right now, but you holding me kind of makes it worth it.” Aunt Susan sighed. “I want you go over and apologize to Lacey for making her poop her pants in the car, for scaring her and being mean to her all this time, and then promise Valana you won’t be mean to her the rest of the summer, and then I’ll take you upstairs and put you in a diaper and treat you like I started to treat Lacey, thinking she wasn’t potty trained. Alright?” Margaret nodded. “Alright.” She came over to Lacey, and she whispered in her ear and hugged her. Lacey hugged her back. “And I promise I won’t make you poop your pants anymore,” she told her out loud. That made Lacey smile and she hugged her again on her own. Margaret then came over to me, and she whispered to me. “I’m sorry. I am still not sure if you pee on purpose or not, but even if you do, I’m sorry I kept threatening your sister on you and making you upset.” I hugged her, and then she said out loud. “And I won’t make either of you poop your pants anymore, or try to get you in trouble even if I think you wet on purpose.” I smiled and nodded, and then Margaret went over to her mom and Aunt Susan took her upstairs. “Lacey,” I called her to me. “Margaret is a little scared her mommy doesn’t like her, so we have to be patient,” I told her not caring the boys were listening. “She’s going to pee her pants on purpose, but I don’t want you being mean to her. I know she was mean to us, and it’s unfair, but I think if she sees that we are not mean to her for acting like a baby, then she might not be as mean to us for acting like babies.” Lacey nodded. “Is she gonna poop her pants, too?” “I don’t know, Lacey. But if she does or she doesn’t, I don’t want you telling on her or making trouble for her. If I feel she needs a change and she isn’t asking, I’ll ask Aunt Susan to maybe pick her up to hint that she needs to be checked.” “Okay.” Margaret came back down with Aunt Susan in a skirt instead of jeans, and I couldn’t see what was under the skirt because I didn’t want to look, and I hoped she’d realize I wasn’t going to try to make her uncomfortable on purpose. Then, Aunt Susan told Jason there was a change of plans. “I’m taking Margaret with us because I don’t want her peeing her pants at the pool and having her friends see it. And please, Jason, Mike, and Jessica, not a word about your sister’s issues to anyone outside this room and your dad.” Jason nodded. “I won’t mom. I hated the way Margaret was being with people, but I wouldn’t cause her to lose her friends over it.” “Yeah,” said Mike. “Besides, there are more interesting things to talk about with my friends other than if Margaret wants to wear diapers or pee her pants on purpose. If that’s what she needs to be nice, then whatever. I want to talk to my friends about how to build something…,” and he got a dreamy look in his eye like he was daydreaming. “I won’t,” Jessica said. “But she better not pour water on my bed again or try to make me look like I wet just because I won’t want to do what she says when she’s trying to be mean to Lacey.” The three of us sat in the way back because that seat was the longest and it let all us girls sit together. I sat between Margaret and Lacey, because even if I found out what was bugging Margaret, I was still scared to trust her to sit right next to Lacey. Lacey had panties on, and it wouldn’t be hard to make it look like Lacey peed her pants if she had a mind to try that. We got to the small round building that was the doctor’s office, and Aunt brought us in, and went to the front. “Excuse me,” Aunt Susan told the receptionist. “I don’t know what the procedures are, but I know you are going to want a sample. Can I get the cups for both my nieces right away. They can’t hold it when they have to pee, and I want to make sure we get the samples if possible as soon as they tell me they gotta go.” “Well, normally, we need paperwork done first.” “Look, if they end up having to go while we are waiting for you to put them in your computer, they will likely end up going in their pants before you get your samples.” “I’ll have to ask someone.” “Go ahead. I’m not leaving until I know what you want to have happen. And if one of my nieces wets her pants while you are getting permission, just know it’s not anyone’s fault. She really has trouble making it to the toilet.” “Which one?” “The older one nearly always wets herself, and the younger one can make it if she isn’t forced to wait too long.” “I’ll be right back.” We waited a little bit, but I didn’t feel like I had to just now. Lacey didn’t say anything yet, either. “I’m sorry, but we do need the information first,” the lady told my aunt. “If she can’t make it, you can take your younger daughter to the toilet and we’ll get her sample another time. The older one just wets herself anyway?” “Yes, she normally can’t stop herself wetting, though it comes out in small waves, so it is possible to get you a sample even while she is in the middle of wetting her diaper.” “Oh, okay. Well, try to ask the older one to hold on as long as she can since she doesn’t usually get to the toilet anyway and you say she’s wearing a diaper. But if the little one can’t wait, then she can either wet her pants or go to the toilet if we aren’t ready yet. We can try to get a sample from her later.” Aunt Susan looked at me, and I pulled her over where no one else was. “I can try not to pee myself on purpose, but if I do, and it gets too much, it will just pee all at once, and I won’t be able to stop flooding my diaper, and it will probably go all over my pants and all over the floor,” I told her blushing. “I usually go on purpose because if I control it, I can pee the diaper little by little, so it doesn’t leak as bad.” “It’s alright, sweetheart. You can pee on purpose if you want. I won’t mind either way, but they will need a sample, so if you can’t get them enough to the line they want, you might have to try again later.” I nodded. We sat there, waiting, and eventually they called us up to get our cups. I still didn’t have to pee. Lacey wasn’t wet, and she wasn’t asking to go yet either. “I may have underestimated how long it would take them to need to go,” Aunt Susan told the receptionist. “Is there some place they can get some water to try to fill up?” The receptionist pointed at a water cooler, and my aunt nodded taking us to get a cup of water, and she gave one to Margaret too, even though Margaret wasn’t here to see the doctor. Margaret smiled when Aunt Susan gave her a cup too. Luckily, Lacey got into the bathroom and peed in the cup before she wet her pants, and I started to leak, and got into the bathroom, and filled up the cup, though it took me forever because of my body always turning on and turning off even when I’m on the toilet. After I peed enough in the cup, I suddenly felt poop coming out, and I pooped in the toilet. I was glad I pooped in the toilet this time and didn’t have to try to tell my aunt I had to go. When I finally came out, I saw Margaret leaning on my aunt, and my aunt patting her shoulder and whispering to her. Then I saw her hands were down at her legs, and I realized that look because that’s the look I probably had when I first peed my pants in middle school that first time. I smiled and walked over and sat next to Margaret on the other side, and I patted her back. I wanted her to know that I realized what she did, and I wasn’t going to be mean to her. They took us back eventually, and I wanted Aunt to come with me, so of course both my sister and Margaret came back because they were all not of age, and my aunt was my guardian, so she had to be there with me if I was scared, and I sort of was. They took my pants and shirt off so I had on just a diaper and a bra, and they removed my sister’s clothes so she had on just an undershirt and a pair of sort of yellowed panties. I guess she didn’t completely make it. Margaret didn’t say anything though, and no one else did either. Then they took us to one room, where a doctor explained what will happen. After that, we were sort of separated, and my aunt couldn’t be in the room for some of the tests they did. We were at the clinic for a long time, I think more than four hours. I felt a little sorry for Margaret being stuck there with us instead of swimming. Maybe she should have asked to wet her pants after we came back from the appointment. I didn’t tell her that though because it might be mean. Then, we sat out in the waiting room for another, I don’t know, but I think it felt like about two hours. I peed myself again while I was waiting. The tests took a long time too. I bet we were there for over six hours. Lacey whispered to Aunt Susan. “Can I go over there?” and she pointed at the open toilet door. Aunt Susan nodded at her, and she went to the bathroom while I just peed in my diaper like I always do. We were finally on the way back home, and I wasn’t sure, but Aunt Susan seemed a little bit agitated. I don’t know if it was news about our problems, or if it was something else, but she seemed like she was on edge a little bit. Margaret sat in the front seat next to her on the way back, and Lacey and I sat in the seat right behind the front. “Margaret, the doctors say that they still don’t have all the results from your cousins’ tests,” she talked to her daughter. Maybe Aunt Susan was trying to include her so she would feel like she was loved and that Aunt Susan was trying to talk to her. “But the first few tests they do have results for, I’m not sure if Valana can be potty trained.” “What? Why?” “I don’t know, sweetheart. The doctors said that she has a bad infection, and the x-ray showed some possible damage to her bladder that they will probably have to look at again later, and see if there is anyway they can correct it.” “Did they put a hole in it?” Margaret asked. “No, honey, but it looks like it is abnormally shaped and a bit smaller than an average one.” “So, we have to take them back here?” “Well, they don’t think Lacey is as hurt, and they gave us some medicine because she does have an infection, though it is very light. Valana, though, is very worrying, and I need to call your uncle and let him know.” “Why didn’t uncle take her to see a doctor?” “I don’t know, sweetheart. But I am going to definitely ask him about that.” I scooted forwards. “Because my mom was scared to ask him to spend money,” I told her. “He said he wants to take us, but my mom said no. She said if he takes us, and the doctors find nothing, then the money will make him change, and he’ll hit us because we aren’t really his kids. He promised he wouldn’t, but mommy wouldn’t let him take that chance. She said us kids were mistreated badly enough for a failed doctor’s visit. Valana just pees her pants on purpose, okay?” Aunt Susan frowned. “Your mom really believed my brother would change and start hitting you?” I looked down. “Lacey’s dad did. That’s what mom said, anyway. I don’t remember because I was like six when he took me to see the doctor, and there was nothing wrong, so I don’t know, but I think that’s when the bad stuff really started. I mean, if you ask mom, that’s what I think she was saying.” Susan frowned. “Did your mom get hit, too, Valana?” “Yes. He hit her every time me or Lacey peed our pants, and he hit her sometimes so hard….” I became quiet. I am not sure of my memory now. I didn’t want to say something like that unless I knew it was true my mom did that. I just shook my head. “He hit her so hard, what?” Aunt Susan tried to pry out of me. “She sometimes peed,” Lacey suddenly said. I didn’t think Lacey even knew about that. “Um… I don’t think that’s right,” I nervously said not wanting to make mommy look worse to Aunt Susan than she already thought of her. Aunt Susan frowned. “Okay, now that makes sense,” she said as she somehow looked as though she remembered something. “Well, no one is going to hit you or your mom ever again,” Aunt Susan told us. Margaret looked back at us her eyes as wide as dinner plates. “Your mom was caused to wet her pants?” Lacey nodded. “He hit her right in the stomach, right here, and she showed on herself, and after like three or four times, right there, mom peed her pants.” Margaret gasped. “Didn’t she even try to block?” I looked down. She was blocking. “She was scared of getting hit in the face and the chest, so she left her stomach open, and he hit her there because it was the only open place.” I definitely remembered now. Mom did sometimes pee when Lacey’s dad hit her. Sometimes, she even had a few accidents when he didn’t hit her, but I wasn’t going to talk about that, and thankfully, Lacey didn’t bring that up. “I think your mom better see a doctor, too,” Aunt Susan said. “You girls might not have noticed anything, but if he damaged Valana like that, then he could have hurt your mom, too. I’ll tell my brother to get her checked and I’m sorry, but I’m going to tell him to check on her to see if she’s wet herself, Valana.” “What? She doesn’t do that anymore,” I whimpered. “Honey, I’m not saying this to be mean to your mom. I now realize I had been wrong about her for a very long time, and if that man hit you like this, I’m worried he hit your mom worse and while peeing your pants can be very inconvenient and embarrassing, if he hurt her worse, it could cause her to die.” “But she hasn’t died,” I pleaded. “And it’s been about three years since we saw that man. He hasn’t hit her, so she’s okay. Don’t tell daddy she wets her pants!” “Aunt Susan,” Lacey spoke up. “She doesn’t wet her pants, I promise.” “It’s okay, babies. Your daddy will not hit her if she does, and if she doesn’t, then the doctor won’t see anything that would cause it. She still needs to see a doctor, girls. There are big problems with Valana, and Valana, you might need surgery.” Now, I understood the thing that had Aunt on pins and needles. I knew surgery was a big thing, and that you can die from stuff that makes it necessary. I started to get tears in my eyes. Aunt Susan had to pull the car over at a parking lot because she was crying too much to see the road. “Margaret, your cousin’s kidneys are damaged,” she told us all. “And I said bladder, but it wasn’t really so much that her bladder is oddly shaped. It’s that I’m afraid that one of her kidneys might have other issues. I think someone has caused her to drink or eat something not good for her.” Margaret’s eyes got wide. “Like poison?” “I don’t know. Valana, did that man make you drink any alcohol when you were a little kid?” I looked down thinking. I don’t think I’d have known if he did. I don’t think I knew what alcohol was, and even if I did, I still don’t really know what it tastes like since no one has said: this is beer, take a taste. “I don’t think so,” I told her. “Well, the kidneys are supposed to flush out poisons in your blood, but some kinds of things can damage them from inside, and alcohol is one of those things that can hurt your kidneys if you drink a lot.” “I ‘member sometimes, Valana looked strange and didn’t walk right,” Lacey told our Aunt. “And I ‘member she didn’t talk right sometimes. She made strange sounds and she got sick, too. I saw television, and if you get drunk, that happens, right?” Aunt Susan frowned. “When did you see this, sweetheart?” “I don’t remember. It was a long time ago. Before our daddy was around.” I didn’t remember that though. “Okay, well, I’ll be talking to your mom and dad tonight, if I can get through to them.” We both looked down. “She has a black eye,” I heard the voices again. I was in the dark. I knew that somehow I was sleeping or daydreaming or something. I knew I’d see the dark figure again. The face I so desperately hid from myself, but I knew to be Lacey’s real biological dad. “This will help with the pain.” “You can’t give her that! She’s a little kid!” “Trust me, it works wonders on pain. Do you want her to suffer?” “No?” “Then get out of my way before I get mad!” I can’t remember the taste. I can’t remember how much he gave me, but I was drinking from a big glass. I can’t see the brand of medicine he was giving me. It wasn’t normal medicine. Normal medicine was usually little pills or it was only a spoon of liquid. This was a big glass of liquid, and it I am not sure. Did I drink more than one? I don’t remember. I just remember I peed my pants after drinking it. We were finally home, and Aunt Susan was talking on the phone. Margaret took me to the living room, and she went up and brought down some crayons and a coloring book she had. She looked at me for a minute, and then she ran back up and went into Jessica’s room, and came back with her dolls, and put them around Lacey. Lacey looked up at her. “I don’t think I’m supposed to. Jessica didn’t tell me I could.” “I’m telling you that you can,” Margaret told her. “And I’ll tell mom as soon as she is off the phone that I, myself, went to get you two something to do. I never knew that your mom peed her pants. I can’t imagine a daddy doing that, even if you are only the sister of his child, that still makes you his child.” I looked down. “And Mom is right, peeing my pants is gross and embarrassing. I don’t like it.” “You can take it off,” I told her. “Oh? And can you just take yours off, and not wet yourself anytime you want?” I looked down. “I told mom I’d wet my pants all day, and I’m going to. I want to be babied by her, but…. I don’t think you do it on purpose anymore. I don’t think you are faking.”

Just when I am out in public shopping like at Christmas or running errands. I sometimes worry a bit as the day goes along if I'm starting to leak a bit and getting wet spots on my jeans.

There's always the super fun and helpful: ? I've used these ones in the past. In case of a trigger warning being triggering, I've aslo had trigger warnings about the trigger warnings. Trigger warning: story may or may not be triggering. Read at your own risk. Content warning: contains content. Sometimes I also like to throw in warnings about choking hazards and nut allergies and gluten sensitivities. One can never be too cautious after all!

Welcome and congratulations on your decision. Wearing 24/7 is such a relief after years of anxiety about leaks and accidents. I've never looked back after nearly 18 months and my continence has completely gone now so it's a good job too ? I look forward to hearing all about your adventures!

Amanda handed me the dry diaper before pulling the front of my diaper down and started to wipe me clean with a warm baby wipe. "You still have a bit of a rash around your thighs honey" she said as she applied diaper rash creme. The cool morning air mixed with the cream felt refreshing as she fanned my diaper area dry with the diaper I had been holding, "You're such a big helper!" she said as I lifted my legs up exposing my plump behind to be wiped clean, "Can you lift your bottom up for Manders now?" I pulled my legs back towards my head and Amanda pulled the used diaper out from under me and quickly slid the fresh one under me by grabbing my ankles and push back on them every so slightly. The feeling of the dry cotton was wonderful and it was only made better by the thick layer of baby powder sprinkled all over my butt, diaper area and lower abdomen. Amanda seeing the amount of powder that landed on my stomach took her finger and drew a heart making me smile.

That design is interesting, it is very much like the malecot catheters that expand/collapse the wings with a stylet, but instead uses what appears to be an external tube (straightener) to both place & retrieve the stent. But it is a prostatic stent so may not be long enough to bridge both urethral sphincters. If it were long enough, it looks like the straightener would need to be placed just into the bladder. The pusher would push the stent out of the straightener so the first wings can expand into the bladder. Then be slowly withdrawn to repeat the process for the lower wings. Retrieval would be possible with the opposite process if the retrieval string were passed through the straightener, just by pulling it back into it. At least that's what I'm gathering... Wish these springy wing stents could be made at home though because I like that idea.

i was potty trained later than the average age but that may be due having autism and learning disabilities i cant remember

Not in a small 2 seat Cessna 152.

Hey Little Belle So far I've tried a few different brands but my two favourites are Gary Wear Actives & Northshore Trifectas. They are comfy & hold everything in and keep things snug. Doesn't feel any hotter than what I'm really used too, and they definitely keep in pretty much everything. Though I don't have like super long wetting episodes. I'm usually drip & feeling warmth down below here and there. I'm sure if you flood it would be fine though. I like wearing shapewear ontop yes, helps keep the booty resembling a booty and not a dip when wearing shorts or skinny jeans, but I find that if you make them too tight your diaper will suffer. So it's finding a good mix of both Something that keeps the shape but isn't trying with all its might to give you that perfect fem curve xD Hi Igel, Honestly It's still around the same, where I'm feeling the intense sudden/immediate need & body is reflexively already pushing. It's a weird feeling like oh yeah I'm supposed to have been the one to push but I've found that more often then not it's been such a habit that it happens. I've definitely had a few experiences where I know for sure i'm going to poop as soon as I bend over or stand up, but it's not something that happens frequently either. Like once in a couple weeks sort of things. for the most part, it's still like feel the need (body is saying omg have to poop), little warning / before hand alarm bells like I used to have that would ring 30 minutes before. Now it's like a minute to 30 seconds with intense pressure/need and i'm going to be messy. I'm still consciously relaxing and going, but it's not something I have to intently focus on, just relaxed and it happens. Often I'm pushing already or I can feel my body knows what to do so to speak. I have not progressed further beyond this point yet, and I feel like if I do & it starts to consistently happen on a daily basis then that would be the next big leap. Questions are, what even is that point? Is it even possible to get to that complete unaware state? Is that even possible? Can one get to that point? I have no idea, and I'm not really sure how I could get my body to do that anyway. If it happens, it happens and I'll be sure to let others know. But for now not yet.

Hey DD! Hope everyone is having a wonderful start to the new year! If you made any resolutions I wish you success in them. When it comes to resolutions I usually try to make easy ones to make a new habit. Mine this year was to keep up the exercise I started last year . Today would be lets see... 1 year, 4 months, 8 days (16 months & 8 days) of being 24/7! Nearly to a full two years. At this point I could never imagine being outside of a diaper other than for bathing. And another month & delivery of northshore to mark another never ending month of the padded life I walk. With Christmas & New Years celebrations with family out of the way I have a lot more free time to relax & finally have some little space times too ?. I remember starting this blog as a way to share my feelings & progress with others, but also partly for myself just to feel a bit more courage in the fact that even though we're all in different parts of the world that we're not alone in this ab/dl thing. Gave me a little happiness and the encouragement others have given me through this time has been wonderful. So thank you! New Year so lets see where it heads this time. Looking back at where I started, the biggest sign that I've slowly dwindled away control down below is when I'm with others. This Christmas, and for new years I spent it with family, friends, and extended family. I attended a few parties, visited friends & siblings, and spent a few days away from home. The fact that I still was wetting without thought, still having sudden needs to go/mess and letting it all happen, while riding in a vehicle, while at parties, while sleeping over... Yeah.. It's definitely changed a lot since I first started. The hurdle and hard parts was properly packing supplies, carrying around extra cases, and changing & throwing it in the rubbish like a ninja and not being seen are all finally feeling like second nature. This is my normal life apparently, crazy how far it's come. A while back I started wearing plastic pants full time, something I normally never really did, just a disposable and out the door. Now adays I couldn't really imagine being without one. I never realized how well they keep certain odors trapped, and while close to others still unaware. I'm also thankful for them more now that if I'm not paying attention to how long it's been, I find i'm usually way more soaked then normal. I prefer cloth backed dips when not at home, and northsore are great quality but sometimes the back does soak through :c. Plastic pants are a life saver, use them if you ever plan to go 24/7 and get used to it! I cannot really think of any other major changes, but the above was the most noticeable & as I reflected on it over the break the more I realized just how far i've come. I hope everyone has a great year ahead! ❤️ Becca If you have questions to things I couldn't think of to write about let me know. Regardless, I hope you all stay well.

Chapter 3 – A Prescription for Progress Zack read the text message from his stepmother with resignation. Kelly: I’m picking you up in front of the school today. Don’t take the bus home. I will be parked across the street from the school sign. What the hell is this about? He wondered. He had the night off from softball, and had hoped to maybe get a couple of hours of Fortnite in. Kelly probably wanted to go shopping for shorts or something lame like that. Zack still fit in most of his shorts from last year, and anyway, he preferred going shopping with his dad. Kelly could play dress-up with Maddy. He wasn’t interested in being someone’s mannequin. Or doll. When the bell rang, Zack rose from his desk, slinging his backpack over his shoulder. He fist-bumped a couple of his buddies, said “I’m not going to be online for a bit” to a few people, and headed to his locker to dump whatever books were in his bag that he didn’t need. Meaning most of them, in his estimation. He’d do homework tomorrow night. He was carried through the front doors of the school with a river of middle schoolers, most of whom were headed for the waiting busses, but he broke off from them, threaded his way between the large yellow conveyances (catching a stern glance from one of the drivers – you weren’t supposed to walk between them), and then he trotted across the grassy boulevard and scanned the vehicles parked in the no stopping zone across the street. Kelly’s silver Mini Cooper stood out from the other vehicles idling along the curb, most of which where SUV’s of one type or another, interspersed with a few minivans and pickup trucks. The two-door Mini looked like it had been manufactured on another scale then most of the mom-mobiles, maybe five eighths or something. She looked up from her phone and waived him over, an unnecessary gesture in his opinion. Obviously, he was heading over to her. What choice did he have? He supposed he could have bolted, or just taken the bus home, but that would have made Kelly angry, which would have made his dad angry, because when Kelly was displeased, she did not tend to keep it bottled up. He glanced left and right, then sauntered over at a pace that, he hoped, would suggest he was doing it on his own sweet time, not as a response to a direct order. He crossed behind the car, came up the passenger side, and opened the door. The front seat was tilted forward, so he tried to push it back, but Kelly blocked its return by putting her hand on the black leather headrest. “The back seat is safest, big guy.” Zack stopped and stepped back, as if reconsidering getting into the car. “Dad lets me ride in the front seat all the time.” “Yeah, well, your dad’s car is bigger, so if he thinks that’s safe, it’s up to him, but in my car, kids go in the back seat. If we get run over by a dump truck, you’ll be thanking me. You might be old enough to ride in the front, but you’re only a stone heavier than kids who use booster seats.” “What the hell’s a stone?” “Language, Zack.” “What the heck’s a stone?” “Fourteen pounds. The minimum weight for riding without a booster seat is eighty pounds, and I’d bet you don’t weigh ninety-five pounds with your shoes on.” “Yeah, but they exempt people over ten years old.” “The laws of physics don’t care how old you are when you go sailing through the windshield in an accident.” “Have you had a lot of accidents?” “Don’t be smart with me. Get in and buckle up, or I’ll pull Maddy’s booster seat out of the trunk for you.” Zack slumped into the back seat as though he was being forced into a police car, buckled his seatbelt, and took out his phone. He deliberately neglected to close the door, or pull the front seat back. “Zack, you’re being a brat!” Kelly fumed, while she undid her own seatbelt and reached across the console to try and reach the door. She had to climb most of the way out of the driver’s seat to get a hand on it. She punched at the start button, put the car in gear, and pulled out into traffic, accelerating abruptly as soon as the path cleared in front of her. Better hurry before they run out of summer clothes. Zack did his best to stare intently at gaming videos on his phone, even though the bumpy ride and go-cart like motions of the little car made watching a small image rendered on a small screen less than ideal. After what felt like an hour, but was probably twenty-five minutes, Kelly zipped into a parking structure next to a mid-rise tower in a complex close to the hospital. Zack looked up and saw a sign that read ‘Medical and Professional Office Parking’. What the hell…? Vaccinations, maybe? Great. However, he didn’t want to grace Kelly with conversation of any sort right now, so after she parked, he waited for her to open the passenger door, and then glumly stepped out, again leaving the door open for her to close. He trudged along behind her as they entered the lobby of the building, and she scanned a list of names and suite numbers on the marble wall beside the elevators. The building smelled of disinfectant and photocopying, and there was a pharmacy off the hallway past the elevators. If things had been going better with Kelly today, he might have thought about asking her to buy him a Gatorade. But he was not going to give her the satisfaction of saying no. The elevator opened before either Kelly or Zack hit the call button. A number of people filed out; a bald man in a charcoal suit, a younger guy in a lab coat, a woman pushing a toddler in a stroller and leading an unhappy looking older kid by the hand. A lady with a cart that had boxes on it. A well-dressed lady wearing too much perfume. Kelly waited for them to exit the mirrored box, and then stepped inside. Zack fixated on his phone and pretended he hadn’t noticed. Maybe it’ll take off with her in it. “Zack! Wake up!” Kelly put a hand out as if to stop the doors, although they had not started closing. Zack ambled forward, trying his best to look unhurried. Once he’d crossed the threshold, she hit the button for the fifth floor, and then held down the door close button, even though people were making their way across the lobby from the entrance. The doors shut, and the box rumbled into motion. On the fifth floor, the doors opened onto another marble lobby, this one with lower ceilings. Across from the bank of elevators, there was the entrance to a dental office on the left, and some kind of doctor’s office on the right… at least it looked like a doctor’s office to Zack. Behind plate glass, there were rows of generous looking leather chairs and benches, a TV on the wall showing a news channel, a reception desk with a woman behind it, wearing scrubs, and a man standing at a shelf of file folders behind her. To Zack, the place looked like bad news, but to Kelly, it was reassuringly professional looking. Kelly walked in, motioned him to the seats, and walked up to the reception desk to talk to the lady in the scrubs. Zack planted himself in a chair and took in his surroundings. The walls and the floor were covered in brown marble, giving the place an upscale appearance. Then he noticed back-lit, bright blue bubble letters running across a bulkhead above the desk. Dr. Amanda Paige & Associates Children’s Cognitive Behavioral & Sleep Therapy Clinic Behavioral clinic…. What is this place? Zack’s boredom turned to unease. There was no earthly reason why Kelly would have gone out of her way to bring him to one of her appointments; he could easily have stayed home alone, and would have been capable of watching Maddy, who was undoubtedly at someone else’s house right now. And anyway, the sign specified that this clinic was for children. He was just thinking that he should have asked more questions before agreeing to be picked up from school, and was considering texting his dad, when the person behind the desk stood up and walked through a door, emerging into a hallway just past the desk. She came around and shook hands with Kelly, who was still standing in front of the desk, and then she motioned for him to come over. Zack looked at the pair pensively, and did not immediately move to stand up, so Kelly shot him an impatient look that got him to his feet. He walked towards them, stopping at what he considered to be a safe distance. “Hello, Zack – my name is Ms. Ellen. Your mother has already told me a lot about you. It’s so nice to meet you. Why don’t both of you follow me.” With that, she turned and walked up the hall, her heel clacks echoing faintly on the shiny stone walls. She’s NOT my mother. Zack thought about saying it instead of just thinking it but decided not to. Depending on what was about to go down, he might need Kelly on his side. This place looked weird. Part way down the hall, there was a room off to the right with glass doors on it, that said ‘Children’s Corner’ on them in more big blue letters. The doors were clear at the top, frosted at the bottom, but Zack was tall enough to make out that there were kids inside seated at tables. Ms. Ellen put her hand on Zack’s shoulder and guided him to the door, which she pulled open. Inside, there was a younger lady sitting at a small desk, with long blond hair and a bright green kerchief tied around her collar. She extended a hand to Zack. “And who have we got here?” she asked. Ms. Ellen responded: “Ms. Christine, this is Zack Fischer. His mom has a meeting with Dr. Paige, so he’s going to be joining your crew for a little bit. Zack, this is Ms. Christine. If you need anything, she’ll take care of you. Please make yourself comfortable. There are books and craft tables, and some game consoles along the back wall. There are bottles of water and juice over there…” She pointed to a low glass fridge in a corner. “…And cookies and crackers over there.” She pointed out a small cabinet. Zack cleared his throat to ask a question, but Ms. Ellen had already whisked Kelly back through the door, to head further down the hallway. He looked at Ms. Christine. She smiled and offered to take the hoodie that he wore open at the front. He declined. She sat back down at the desk and started writing something down on a clipboard. He took in his surroundings. There were a couple of younger kids sitting at a low plastic picnic table, gluing brightly-coloured beads to pieces of construction paper. A girl about Maddy’s age was reading at another table. A boy and a girl who looked closer to his age were watching a kid’s movie from a couple of years before, on a small flat screen TV in a corner that was planted with beanbag chairs. At the far end of the room was a table with four screens on it, two on each side, back-to-back, with video game controllers arrayed around them that nobody was using. Zack decided to make his way over there. When he picked up a controller, a screen popped to life… but not the one he was sitting in front of. He moved over. Hitting the menu button on the controller yielded a list of games that could be played. None of them were new, and none of them were top-tier, action-oriented games, they were all older adventure games with no guns. He found Minecraft on the list… well, he could weaponize some tools in there, he figured. Maybe he’d find a bow and arrow. Or dynamite. Zack played for about 30 minutes, without getting too into the world he was building. He had no idea when they were leaving, but felt like it could be any minute. Realizing that he needed to pee, he stood up and walked back towards the glass doors. Ms. Christine looked up from whatever she was doing. “How can I help you, Zack?” “I need to, uh, use the washroom.” She pointed to an open pass-through back inside the room that he had missed when he made his way over to the video games. “The elimination room is down that way. Just pick up an ‘occupied’ sign from the basket on the shelf, and stick it to the fuzzy plaque on the wall next to the entrance. If you see a sign stuck to the wall, it means the room is occupied, but right now, nobody is in there. Go ahead.” “Uh, thanks…” Zack looked quizzically at the doorway, saw the fuzzy plaque, and the shelf with the basket of signs. He walked over and picked one up. They were red plastic circles that said “Occupied”, and on the back of them they had a patch of Velcro that, he intuited, would stick to the fuzzy framed patch on the wall. He picked one up and pressed it into place. Then he walked through the pass-through. The room he entered hooked off to the left. It was dimly lit. There was a fish tank built into a wall at the far end. More beanbag chairs on the floor. A rocking chair, what looked like exercise mats, and a small sofa. There was a rack of books. What wasn’t there was any sign of a washroom. Zack left the perplexing space and walked back over to Ms. Christine. “There’s no washroom in there.” “You can do whatever you need to do in there. It’s okay. Go ahead. You can use it for as long as you need to, there’s no rush.” “Okay, but… what I need to do is use a washroom.” “What do you need to do in the washroom?” Strange question. “I need to pee.” “You can do that in the elimination room.” “Like on the floor or something? I don’t get it.” Zack felt like he’d stepped into an alternate universe, where up was down, down was sideways, and nobody made any sense. Ms. Christine raised her eyebrows, then looked down at her clipboard, and flipped through a couple of pages. “Oh, right, this is your first visit. Sorry, Zack, my apologies. I can see why you’re confused. No problem. If you head back out to the waiting room, there is a bathroom around the other side of the reception desk. If anyone asks you where you’re going, tell them I said it’s okay. Just knock before you open it, if the door is closed – it doesn’t lock.” Ms. Christine got up and turned what looked like a deadbolt on the glass door, releasing him into the waiting room. It was Zack’s turn to raise his eyebrows, but he nodded dutifully, and headed across the waiting area. A couple of grownups sat in chairs. He guessed that their kids were inside the Children’s Corner. Ms. Ellen looked up at him and smiled, but she didn’t say anything. He found the washroom open and seemingly unoccupied and went inside, although he didn’t like that he couldn’t lock the door. Inside, the room was bigger than he’d expected. It was paneled in the same dark marble as the hallway. There was a counter with a double sink, soap dispensers, mouthwash, Q-tips, a box of latex gloves, and at the end of the room, there was a bathroom stall that, he thought, would have a lock. But before he went in, he took in the other fixture in the room, against the wall perpendicular to the sinks. It looked like a medical examination table. It had a roll of thin paper mounted on a horizontal spool at one end, and a low stepstool in front of it. There was a shelf on the right that held a large box of what looked like wet wipes, and below that, there was a steel garbage can with a pedal that opened the lid. There were also a couple of spray bottles on the shelf, small ones that looked medical. Maybe for cleaning the table? But why is it in here? So weird. Zack went into the stall and relieved himself. It did lock, thankfully. He walked out and went to the sink to wash his hands. He was in no hurry to go back into the Children’s Corner. Ms. Christine seemed nice, but something about the whole place was off. He decided to try the mouthwash – he’d never been in a bathroom that had free mouthwash before, and his dad used it at home, but didn’t give it to him or Maddy. It was green, minty, and it burned a little. He swished it around in his mouth. “Zack… are you in here?” It was Ms. Ellen. Zack spit into the sink. “Yup, I’m done.” He made his way out. “Come over to my desk for a moment, if you don’t mind.” He followed her. While he was in the washroom, another parent and child had come into the waiting room. The dad, in a grey jacket, was reading a magazine. The girl, who looked about the same age as Zack, was wearing a long white dress, and her eyes were locked on Zack. He gave her a sideways glance and walked over to Ms. Ellen’s desk. She was standing in front of it, instead of behind it, and she produced a long ribbon from her pocket that he determined was a measuring tape. With quick, studied motions, she slung the tape around his waist, then around his hips, noting the measurements on a chart that was on the desk. Then she motioned him over to a digital scale that was tucked into a cubby hole under the desk, which she pulled out. She tapped it once with her foot. “Hang on a sec, let it wake up…” The scale showed a zero. “There you go, step up. Don’t rest your hands on the desk – that’s cheating.” Zack stepped onto the scale. After a few seconds, the display showed 94.5 lbs. Ms. Ellen wrote that down too. Then she dropped one end of the measuring ribbon to the floor and asked him to step on the little metal nub that was at the end of it. Zack complied. She stretched it taught and eyeballed the number at his forehead. She wrote something else down. “Thanks Zack, that’s all I need. I can take you in to see your mom now, and meet the doctor, if you like.” Zack didn’t know if he liked it or not, but it seemed to be the way that fate was carrying him, so he let her lead the way. He glanced over at the girl in the dress. She was slightly wide-eyed, and looked like maybe she wanted to say something to him. A warning perhaps. But the moment passed in an instant, and she looked at the floor. He followed Ms. Ellen down the hall past the strange kids’ area, to normal-looking door. Ms. Ellen knocked on it, and from inside, a female voice said “Come on in.” Ms. Ellen opened the door, stepped aside, and Zack walked into what seemed to him to be a big office. There was a hefty wooden desk in the room, and a conference table with six leather chairs around it, as well as a small couch, and more beanbag chairs in a corner. These people like their beanbag chairs. A lady wearing what looked to Zack like principal’s or vice-principal’s clothes, was sitting on one side of the table, and Kelly was sitting on the other. The lady had shoulder-length hair that was blond mixed with gray. She had a gold watch on. In front of her was another clipboard, and it looked like her and Kelly had been looking at a laptop that was in the middle of the table. The lady spoke. “High, Zack. Come in and have a seat. Your mom has told me so much about you.” Everyone calling Kelly his mom grated heavily on Zack, but his uncertainty about the circumstances caused him to reign in his tongue. “Hi.” He said simply. He took a seat one empty chair away from Kelly. “I’m Dr. Amanda Paige, but you can call me Dr. Amanda. Your mom has been telling me….” Zack interrupted softly: “Kelly. She’s Kelly.” The lady paused, glanced at Kelly, then went on. “Kelly has been telling me about some of the issues you’ve been having at night, poor sleeping, accidents, leaks. She said that it’s been preventing you from doing fun stuff like sleepovers, and important stuff, like paying attention in class. And being that tired and inattentive might even be causing you to have some slipups during the day.” Zack’s face turned bright red in a rising tide from his chin to his forehead. Involuntarily, he closed his eyes and dropped his head. What the absolute fu**?!? “Take a breath, Zack. It’s okay. This is very, very common. I have a room full of kids out there who have some of the same issues that you do, some older, some younger than you. This is not a place for shame or embarrassment, this is a place for solutions. I believe that I can help you, and help your m… Kelly… to help you as well.” Zack stared at the floor. “You and I are going to have some meetings in the coming weeks where you are going to have a chance to tell me everything you’re thinking about. Your voice is very important here. And you’re going to participate in some group jams, as we call them, where you’ll meet kids just like yourself, who are working through similar challenges. But for the moment, we’re going to address some practical considerations first. “The training pants that you’ve been wearing at night, they aren’t really meant for kids your age. Sure, they say they are on the packaging, and sure, they fit okay, but what do they always end up doing? Leaking, that’s what. The most important thing for you is getting a good night’s sleep – that’s pivotal to your social and academic life. And the first step to getting you there is… stopping the leaks! Eventually, we’ll stop you from leaking, too, but first, we need to stop your underpants from leaking, okay?” Zack looked across the glossy wooden table at Dr. Amanda. She seemed to be waiting for a response. He whispered “Okay” before he knew what he was doing. All the fight had gone out of him. Sitting here in this room with these two grownups, talking about his bedwetting like it was front page news, was more than he could process. “Okay! That’s good. We got an ‘okay’. So, Zack, I have a question for you – do you like animals, or, do you like construction equipment?” “Huh?” “Do you prefer pictures of animals, or pictures of construction equipment?” “Uhh… what kind of animals?” “Dogs, cats, bunnies.” Zack had no idea where this was going. “Probably… construction equipment. I guess.” “Good! That’s all I need to know for now.” Dr. Amanda pulled out her phone and typed a quick note to someone. “Kelly, thank you for bringing this charming young man in to see me today. Zack, I look forward to getting to know you.” She glanced from Zack, back to Kelly. “Ms. Ellen is going to give you a patient number at the front desk. Stop at the pharmacy on the way out and ask for Mr. Burke. Give him that number, and he’ll be able to pull up my notes. Drive around to the South side of the building – that’s the opposite side from the main road – and you’ll see a steel door with a ramp in front of it. If you back up that ramp and ring the doorbell, Mr. Burke will help you put everything into your car. Be careful on that ramp – I’ve nearly driven off it myself!”

When are you just going to give it up and let go? ??

She, in her rant, removed the rights of others to comment / agree / disagree with her... as a result, since she does not respect 'free speech', she denies her own rights to same.

No partner. My choice of underwear is not the business of my family or friends. If any know, they have not said anything. I was already wearing nearly all the time, so there was not much change.

Indeed, Gary's motivations are pretty clear! Chapter 20! Gary lead Briana up the walk to her house. There was a bit of a waddling wobble to her step and her skirt looked very full. Unconcerned with that, Briana hurried ahead of Gary to open the door. "Hi Veronica!" She said enthusiastically. "Hello Briana, Gary." Veronica smiled from the living room's gray armchair. "Hi." Gary said, following Briana in and padding her bulky rear. "Got her back safe and sound. Go see Veronica hon." Briana obediently sat on Veronica's lap. "I had a good date! We had a good lunch, and ice cream!" "I see the ice cream." Veronica smirked, plucking at the pink blotches on Briana's crop-top. "On your top and your mouth." "I could have cleaned her up." Gary said, dropping the diaper bag and sitting on the couch. "But I thought you'd enjoy seeing how much fun she had with the ice cream." "You guessed right." Veronica said. "I see she went through at least one top and one change?" "Oh, yeah he did it was really..." Briana was already blushing at the memory, but her cheeks went bright pink when Veronica interrupted her by popping a pacifier in her mouth. "Shh sweetie, I'm talking to Gary right now." Veronica pulled Briana closer on her lap, laying Briana's head on her shoulder. Briana squirmed, overcome with embarrassment. The clammy feeling in her diaper that she's been trying to ignore came to the forefront of her attention. Without thinking about what she was doing, she cuddled up to Veronica, holding on to her roommate's neck and breast. "That's right." Gary said. "We didn't end up using the onsie, or the spare pullup. I think she's a little wet, but she probably doesn't need to be changed right away." "You're taking this very well." Veronica said. "You had a good time too?" "Yeah." Gary smiled and shook his head. "More than I thought I would. I'll be happy to babysit her any time." "That's great to hear, we might need you after finals." Veronica said. "She was a good girl overall?" "Yeah she was fine. A couple of bratty moments but nothing to worry about." Gary said. "She didn't like it when I made a meta-comment about our little game. She wanted to be immersed in it I think." "I've been noticing that too." Veronica said. Briana squirmed in her arms, and Veronica bounced her gently until Briana snuggled up again. "Did she take you up on the microbiology help?" "Kind of?" Gary shrugged. "Looking at her right now I'm not sure how much you'd let her choose anyway. Let me know when she's got more serious studying or homework and I'll come tutor." "Sounds great." Veronica smiled. "Okay Briana, you can hop up now and say goodbye to Gary." Briana hopped off Veronica's lap and stood between her and Gary as he rose from the couch. She couldn't say anything with the pacifier in her mouth, so she waited, looking up at him expectantly. Gary smiled and gently took the pacifier. "You're pretty little right now. I think you're going to have a fun evening." Briana smiled broadly. "Thanks! And thanks for the ice cream, and the date." "You're welcome cutie." Gary pulled Briana close, kissing her gently and squishing her rear. She pressed up tightly against him, feeling heat build in her crotch again. Gary popped the pacifier right back in Briana's mouth as he pulled away. "See you later Veronica. Got to say, this is pretty interesting." Gary waved and headed for the door. "I'm sure you have some other adjectives for it too." Veronica chuckled, waving. When Gary was gone, she turned to Briana, plucking at the messy crop top. "Let's get you a change of clothes sweetie." "Do I get to pick my outfit? Gary said you were going to baby me so I can do good tomorrow?" Briana pulled away, dropping her pacifier on the coffee table. "I could give you a choice of onesies." Veronica said. "You're right, we're going to give you the full baby treatment tonight. It did you good yesterday, I want you to be ready for school tomorrow." "Onesies are boring, and too babyish." Briana pouted. "I want to wear something pretty." "I think they're pretty." Veronica said, tugging at Briana's crop top. "Arms up, right now." Briana sighed and raised her arms. She stayed put while Veronica took her bra off, wiggling a bit. "I don't want a onesie though." "I know sweetheart, but I think you need it, and I think you'll like it when you get a bit more into it." Veronica pulled Briana's skirt down and guided her feet out of it. "You let me strip you down to your diaper in the living room. Your wet diaper." Briana blushed and covered her chest. "But that's because..." "Because I told you to." Veronica said. "So be a good girl and listen to me." "Like..." Briana asked in a quiet voice. "Like uh, you're my mom?" Veronica beamed. "Yes sweetie. Just that way." "Okay mom." Briana blushed and looked down, letting her arms drop. "Such a good girl." Veronica kissed Briana on the head. She pulled a white onesie with green trim out of the diaper bag. Briana wrinkled her nose at the frog and lily pad print. With the onesie pulled on and snapped firmly over her crotch, Briana was feeling foggy headed again. More than foggy, actually, she was suddenly dizzy. She reached out to Veronica for balance or a hug, she wasn't sure which, lightly holding Veronica's left breast again. "Sorry to say, there isn't a snack for you there hon." Veronica chuckled. Briana looked down at her hand in confusion, then blushed, snatching it back. "I didn't mean..." "Shh, it's alright." She stroked Briana's cheek. "I'm going to put you down for a little nap before dinner, but you can nap here in the living room if you want." "But mom, I'm not tired." Briana sighed. "I think you will be. Lie down on the couch." Veronica crouched down by the couch and pulled a blanket over Briana. "I have a friend for you." "What?" Briana blinked sleepily. The warmth of the blanket and the onesie pulling her diaper against her were pushing her more into her daze. "Here you go." Veronica reached under the couch and retrieved a stuffed lioness that she tucked into Briana's arms. "It's so soft!" Briana said, stroking the golden fur and admiring the cutely-painted blue eyes. "I'm glad you like it. You'll have to think of a name for it after your nap." She stroked Briana's hair. "Sleep now sweetie. I'll be right here, okay?" "Okay mom." Briana yawned, snuggling up to her new friend. She could feel warmth in her crotch again and vaguely realized she was wetting. It didn't bother her, instead contributing to the warm, sleepy feeling. When Briana woke she could hear her roommates bustling around the house. The pacifier was back in her mouth, she'd been sucking on it as she slept. She smiled behind the pacifier to see that her lion was still cuddled in her arms. It was delightfully warm under the blanket, or at least it was everywhere but her diaper. Her crotch and butt were way beyond clammy, they were wet. She stirred on the couch as Jane walked by. The smell of ginger and garlic wafted in from the kitchen. It seemed like a shame to get up and ruin the wonderful warmth she'd built up under the blanket. Spitting the pacifier out on the floor, Briana called out. "Moooom! I need a change." "Jane, can you change her?" Veronica called from the kitchen. "I'm in the middle of making dumplings." Jane rounded the couch and looked down at Briana. She had an odd expression on her face. Curious, but something else as well. "Well, look at you. Climb down on the floor and I'll get you changed." "I asked for mom!" Briana pouted, holding her lion defensively. "You mean Veronica?" Jane cocked her head. "Well, she is busy right now, so I'll be the one taking care of you." "No." Briana said. "I'll wait until she's done." "Briana." Jane said sternly. "Veronica might be your mother right now but we're all in charge of you. If you don't get down on the floor right now, you'll find out exactly how much discipline I learned from my father." Briana squeaked, reluctantly climbing off the couch with her blanket and lion. Jane wasted no time pulling Briana on top of the blanket and unsnapping the crotch of her onesie. "You were really wet." Jane said, tearing the tapes off Briana's diaper and pulling it aside. She hefted the soggy thing with raised brows before dumping it in a diaper pail. "Well I used it more than once." Briana said. She squirmed as Jane wiped her down with the cold wipes. Jane lifted Briana's legs to wipe her rear. "I see you have something new here." Briana squirmed as Jane wiggled the plug in her rear. "Gary gave that to me. It's for um, so I don't do number two I guess?" "Useful." Jane nodded. "It's not uncomfortable for you?" "I forgot it was there." Briana giggled. "Cute plug!" Suzie said, hopping up on the couch. Briana blushed, hoping that everyone wouldn't crowd around her while she was getting changed. "Thanks, I have a lion too!" "What's her name?" Suzie asked. "Uh, Alanna!" Briana nodded. Jane slid a new diaper under Briana's rear. There was no lotion this time, just a quick sprinkle of powder before Jane taped the diaper in place. "Mom gave her to me!" Briana nodded, wiggling her butt against the fresh dry padding. As soon as Jane snapped up her onesie she sat up, legs slightly splayed from the bulk between them. "Cool!" Suzie exclaimed. "That was very nice of her." Jane said, patting Briana's cheek. She wiped the pacifier off and popped it back in Briana's mouth. "Suzie, can you watch her until dinner? I have to send an email to my advisor before five." "Is she high maintenance today?" Suzie asked, coming over the couch to sit in front of Briana. "I think we're getting to the phase that Veronica was talking about on Friday." Jane nodded. "Mmm?" Briana tugged at Suzie's leg, getting only an absent minded pat on the head rather than an answer. "Okay, I got it. I'm good to go for the evening and I like playtime with her anyway." Suzie grinned. "Thanks." Jane nodded, and leaned over to hug Briana. "Be good for Suzie, understand?" Briana rolled her eyes and nodded. "Tell me about your lion! Why's she named Alanna?" Suzie popped the pacifier out of Briana's mouth. "What phase was Jane talking about?" Briana asked, her brow furrowed. "Don't worry about that hon. Let's play with your lion." Suzie grabbed a blown-glass seashell from the coffee table. "Here come the evil space mermaids in their shell-ship!" "Alanna's not in space." Briana pouted. "What about that phase?" she thought. "Why not?" Suzie asked. "Is she a magical lion?" "Well maybe she could be in space. She does have magic." Briana walked Alanna across the coffee table toward the shell. By the time dinner was ready Briana had forgotten the phase. She wasn't paying much attention to what her roommates were talking about at all, Alanna was far more interesting. Getting put to bed by Veronica and having a story read to her was even more blissful than it had been the last night. The morning dawned on a Briana who felt great! She was out of bed and put together well before Veronica's usual visit. She even went to meet Veronica so they could talk about the day. Classes were back to being a breeze, it was good to be back to her usual honors student self. In her plastics-bacteria lab, Briana got up the courage to approach the professor while one of her samples were cycling. "Hey Dr. Vaughn, I don't know if you heard but Dr. Schaefer lost her grant. Do you know if there are any other open lab jobs?" "I did hear." He said, frowning. "I was really sorry for Sara. You too. I don't know of anything right now, but if something comes up I'll recommend you. You've done good work here." "Thank you!" Briana smiled brightly. "Of course. How are you set for finals? I know there's not always a lot of time to focus on class while you're doing grad work." "I'm pretty good actually." Briana said. "It's my thesis that's lagging behind." "Well those always do." Vaughn chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll get it." Briana froze in the middle of a nod. There was a warm, wet sensation in her pants. "I didn't feel anything at all this time!" She tried to clamp down on her bladder but it didn't seem to make any difference. Luckily she had on some baggy green shorts, she wasn't brave enough to wear leggings over her pullups. "Are you okay?" Vaughn asked. "Oh uh, yeah." Briana said nervously. "I um, have a bit of a medical condition it uh, makes my breath catch sometimes." The trickle into her pullup had stopped, but not due to any effort on Briana's part. She could feel the padding bulking up between her legs and shifted uncomfortably. "Oh no! Have you been to see someone for it?" "Yes actually, but it's kind of an ongoing process." Briana shrugged. "I understand. I'm diabetic myself." Dr. Vaughn nodded. "I hope you stay well. Will you be able to finish out today's lab?" "Yes but, I think I'll run to the bathroom and take my medication." Briana said. "If you don't mind?" "Oh of course, go ahead." Vaughn smiled kindly. Briana scurried to the bathroom. The pullup gave her enough time to find one of the private ones, at least. Once inside with the door firmly locked she stripped off her shorts and looked down at her pullup. The puppies and kittens that had been there in the morning were gone for good. It wasn't full to leaking, but it couldn't take her wetting again. With a sigh, Briana shucked the pullup and wrapped it in paper towels before trashing it. Eyeing the spare pullup after giving herself a wipe-down, Briana fidgeted. "What if I wet this one too?" "It doesn't really matter." She realized, "It's not like I have a choice. I can't skip out on lab right after I asked Dr. Vaughn to recommend me to a job." The pullup went on with a now-familiar feeling. Briana checked herself out in the mirror, craning her head over her shoulder to see her rear. "My butt does look pretty good in it. The stars on it are pretty too." With a laugh at the absurdity of it all, she pulled her shorts up and left the bathroom. The rest of the lab went well, in terms of Briana's results. By the time she finished, however, there was definite sogginess between her legs. Her body wasn't even waiting for her bladder to fill up anymore. It was scary, Briana could feel a cloud of stress looming over her. Stress had only made wetting worse though, so she tried to force the worry out of her mind. The pullup held until the end of her lab, and that's all that mattered. When she went home she knew she'd be diapered and babied, with nothing to worry about. Briana marveled at how comforting that all sounded. She hurried to Casey's car, eager to get back to her little self.

What's that thing that pride goeth before? Oh dang, it's a fall isn't it? ----- Chapter 16 Being a good girl was easy. Briana's day went by in a flash. She did chores when she was told, went to classes, sat in the library reading until Casey picked her up. A whole day doing whatever she was told, and lounging in her room on her phone otherwise. At the end of the day she proudly reported her success to Veronica, along with her nice dry pullups. Briana's diaper was wet again the next morning, but she didn't care, the previous day had felt like a victory. Veronica had woken her and sat by her bed to talk. That was a nice change too, not having to sit in a wet diaper. It always squished unpleasantly where she rested on Veronica's legs. Friday went as well as Thursday had. For the second day she let Veronica know that everything had gone well, along with staying dry! It was the first time Briana had really felt like positive progress was happening. She went to bed happy, and even woke up less wet than usual. Briana was out of bed and hugging Veronica like a happy puppy when she realized she still had something in her bladder. She was feeling so normal that she pulled open her underwear drawer on autopilot when she was getting dressed. She stared down at the carefully folded panties, soft hues from white to pink to yellow. "They're probably dusty by now!" Briana picked up her favorite pair of panties, white cotton with red lace roses embroidered across the top. She pulled them on to feel them. They felt good, barely there compared to a pullup. She pulled a pair of jeans on over them. Her heart pounded with excitement. "I've stayed dry for a few days now. A week if you don't count the thing with Gary. That was just part of the freak-out." She pulled on a bra and a button up blouse. Looking at herself in the mirror, she felt more grown up than she had in ages. "Veronica told me to work on this problem and I'm doing it! I'll just make sure I use the bathroom often. She'll be so proud when I told her there were no problems!" Briana threw herself into her assigned chores, and earned all of Saturday afternoon and evening off. She spent the time texting Gary and Casey; while frequently visiting the restroom. She was a little nervous when she had to pee twice that she hadn't noticed anything, but told herself that of course she wouldn't feel anything if she was going so often. When evening came, Briana gave herself a big high-five in the mirror. She had her report to make to Veronica. Even more, she was hoping she might wake up dry. She doffed her jeans and panties, grinning from ear to ear. They were still nice and dry! Instead of the panties, she slipped on a pullup with jeans on top. "I don't want to ruin the surprise for Veronica." "I had another great day!" Briana burst through the door to Veronica's office. "Congratulations sweetheart!" Veronica smiled, getting up to give Briana a big hug. "I got everything done, and I was dry all day." Briana beamed proudly. "I'm really proud of you." Veronica sat, pulling Briana into her lap. "Do you want me to diaper you tonight, or do you want to try a pullup tonight? You still have the plastic on your bed I think." "Can I?" Briana's eyes went wide. "You think it's okay if I do a pullup?" "You would have been fine in a pullup last night, I think it's worth the try. You've made a lot of progress in the last couple of days." "Yay!" Briana bounced on Veronica's lap. "How are you feeling?" Veronica asked, putting her arms around Briana to stabilize her. "Really grown up!" Briana said confidently. "I see." Veronica nodded. "Interesting choice of words. Is that why you're a little more dressed up than usual?" "Yep!" Briana nodded. "I wanted to look like a big girl today." "Ah, then you probably don't want me to put you to bed." "Well..." Veronica smiled. "I do enjoy it. Will you do it for me?" "Okay!" Briana bounced on Veronica's lap again. "Oof, careful there sweetie." Veronica gently slid Briana off her lap. "Let's get you put to bed." Briana scampered to her room, pausing to brightly call goodnight to her roommates. Jane and Erin gave her funny looks, but she got an enthusiastic wave from Suzie. Once in the bedroom, she let Veronica take her clothes off with only a little squirming. Down to her pullup, she stood totally unselfconscious while Veronica put her clothes in the hamper. "Did you brush your teeth?" Veronica asked, looking Briana over with a calculating gaze. "Oops!" Briana walked out of the room without bothering to put on pajamas or cover her chest. She returned, flashing a clean minty smile at Veronica. "You sure you're feeling okay, sweetie?" Veronica caressed Briana's cheek. "Yeah, I feel really good." Briana stretched. "Actually I'm not really sleepy yet. Can you stay and talk?" "Okay, but get in bed first." Veronica pulled back the covers, dragging them back over Briana when she hopped in.. She sat on the edge of the bed. "Is there something bothering you?" "No, I don't want to go to sleep yet." Briana said, sitting up bare-chested. "Do you want me to read you a story?" Veronica asked curiously. Briana's eyes lit up excitedly, but she quickly shifted to a frown. "That's not very grown up!" "You're right, but we've already talked a couple of times today, I don't have anything else right now either." She gently poked Briana's nose. "Bedtime." "I'm not sleepy yet!" Briana protested. "You've been so good, don't blow it now." Veronica said. She pulled the covers up to Briana's chin as Briana reluctantly slid back down in bed. She was almost out the door with the lights out when Briana spoke again. "Would you really have read me a story?" "I would have, do you want one?" Veronica turned, silhouetted by the hallway light. "No, that's okay." Briana let her head fall on the pillow. Briana woke what seemed like moments later to Veronica shaking her awake. She reached down between her legs and cried out in joy. Nothing had leaked! She still had a mostly full bladder! Sure, the pullup was wet, but it was nothing compared to what had been happening recently. With her rose-panties rescued from the laundry bin, Briana felt like she was floating through the day. She was sure that her wetting problems would be over soon. That meant dates that wouldn't be weird with Gary. Maybe some weird dates with Casey, but wearing pullups had been fun with her so that could be okay. Homework and chores took a chunk of the day but she barely noticed them. Everything was less important than her excitement for the future. Her work on the Microbio homework was really rushed, but there was no one in the house qualified to check it. Briana simply pretended there was no problem. Dinner prep was Briana and Suzie, everyone else had yet to get home. Briana had a nice mindless task chopping onions; her mind wandered to the rest of the week. She had a test coming up, and she hadn't put in any job applications recently. Maybe she could talk to Dr. Grove about getting on his lab team. Her train of thought was interrupted by a weird tightness in her skinny jeans. She looked down to see a huge spreading wet-patch. "Oh no," she cried, "Oh no no no no no!" It kept coming with no control at all. It was as big an accident as an early morning wet, soaking her jeans and through them, actually dribbling audibly on the floor. "Woah, you okay?" Suzie came over, staring at Briana in shock. "What's going on... are you not wearing pullups?" Briana stared at Suzie, shocked and shamefaced. She managed to slightly shake her head. "Why not? Briana, it's all over the kitchen floor!" Suzie took a couple of bare-footed steps back, wrinkling her nose. "I'm standing in it." "S-s-s-s-s-or-or-or-y" Briana whimpered. Suzie sighed and rolled her eyes. She grabbed a dish towel and threw it on the floor, then went for the mop. Briana hobbled to the side, too shocked at what had happened to help. "You are going back in diapers." Suzie said as she mopped in short quick strokes. "You're getting a spanking, and you're grounded for a while if I have anything to say about it." "No!" Briana wailed. "Everything was going really well! It was almost over!" Suzie dumped the mop and dish towel into the mop bucket. "Briana, I'm a little upset with you. You get up to your room right now while I put dinner on hold. You wait there until I come up to change you." "No!" Briana screamed. "No! This isn't fair! It's not! I was done!" Suzie grabbed a wooden spoon from the jar and grabbed Briana's arm. Briana struggled, her feet slipping on the slick floor. With surprising skill Suzie twisted Briana's arm behind her back and up. Briana was bent over the table with a whimper of pain. "You are being a very bad baby right now." Suzie said. The swish of the spoon left Briana no time to retort. She let out a cry of pain as the spoon caught her across her wet jeans. Four more times the spoon came down, each time it was a shock that blossomed out into red hot pain. "I'll be good, I'll be good." Briana sobbed, tears dripping on the table. She gratefully shook her arm out as Suzie let her go. "Take your pants off." Suzie said. "You heard me! We're not even done with your spanking yet." Briana whimpered, cowering when Suzie raised the spoon again. She fumbled her jeans open and down, then her panties. She sobbed again to see her rose panties dripping as she rolled them down her thighs. Suzie sat, and dragged Briana over her knee. She stroked the spoon over Briana's bare butt. "N-no please." Briana blubbered. "Suzie please, not the spoon." "You should have thought about that before you skipped wearing your pullups." Suzie brought the spoon down, forcing a yelp out of Briana. Nine more times, while Briana sobbed until the snot flowed out of her nose onto the floor. She felt herself wet again, helpless to stop it as pee flowed in spurts down her legs or splattered on Suzie's pants. Suzie walked Briana upstairs and put her in the shower. Briana sat under the hot water, keeping her butt out of the stream. She wished she could fall into that floaty state she'd been in with Veronica's first spanking, or after her roommates had all spanked her. It wasn't to be, the feeling of shame and disappointment was too real. Pulled out of the shower and gently dried off by Suzie, Briana obediently went to her bedroom. The changing blanket was on her bed, and Briana lay down on it without protest. The lotion was a merciful relief, even if Suzie didn't give her sex the extra attention that Erin usually did. The talcum powder was soothing, but something about the diaper under it felt funny. "What's that?" Briana asked, staring at the large rectangular pad in the middle of the diaper. "Booster pad." Suzie said, pulling the diaper up and taping it. Briana flushed but lay back. She didn't want to try Suzie's temper right now. The flower petal blouse Suzie put on her seemed babyish but Briana kept quiet about that as well. It wasn't until she realized that the 'blouse' was being snapped around her crotch that she protested. "Suzie, what... you're putting me in a onesie?" "That's right. It'll make you a lot easier to change." Suzie said. "I don't want to wear this!" Briana reached for the snaps only to have Suzie slap her hands away. "You're not in any position to choose." Suzie said. "Did you forget you're supposed to be doing what we say?" "This is totally unreasonable!" Briana shouted. "Good thing Veronica anticipated you having a meltdown." Suzie said. She picked up something off the bedside table and shoved it in Briana's mouth. Briana froze in embarrassed shock as her mouth closed reflexively over the rubber nipple. The pacifier's ring tapped lightly against her lower lip. She felt her nipples harden and her crotch warm, at the same time that she was trembling with shame. "Now, I'm not strong enough to lift you." Suzie said. "So you can come with me and sit on a blanket in the kitchen like a good girl. Otherwise I have to tie you up and put a baby-monitor up here." Briana looked at Suzie in disbelief. "I told you, Veronica figured something like this would happen. Please come downstairs." Suzie sighed. "I don't even know where the batteries are for the baby monitor, and I have to finish dinner." Briana could only whimper behind the pacifier. She didn't resist when Suzie pulled her wrist and followed her roommate downstairs. A crib blanket on the kitchen floor was the final, humiliating touch. Briana lay down on it to spare her aching rear. All her plans and hopes were washed away with the pee that Suzie was mopping up. She was torn between dreading the return of the rest of her roommates and wanting Veronica to be home.

Chapter 33: A New Mourning I woke up again; this time with sunshine streaming into the room and a giant hand patting my butt. Correction: Patting the back of my diaper. Damn thing had swollen up so much over the night that it was practically its own entity. Bitterly, the thought occurred to me that this nighttime diaper was just as much an escape deterrent as a forced incontinence brief. If the crib bars hadn’t stopped me from getting out, there’d have been almost no way I could have gotten far with that much bulk surrounding me. I’d barely been able to roll over. “Did you sleep well?” Janet cooed down at me. “Looks like you did.” She felt the lumps that I had deposited in the back a few hours ago. “It’s not fair,” I reminded myself in a whisper. “It’s just not fair.” Janet hoisted me out of the crib by my armpits. “Oh yeah!” she groaned. “Was definitely a good choice to put you in the nighttime diaper.” A second later, I was laying on the changing table. I’d been left naked save for the diaper. I didn’t need a mirror to know that my hair was a mess. My skin still had that vague pink of a healing sunburn from the bug zapper treatment. Janet meanwhile was already put together. She wore a plain navy blue dress. I’d probably seen her wear it around campus any number of times. Her hair was combed and pulled back into a bun and for some reason, she wore a rubber apron. Her eyes though, they still had the same baby crazy as the night before. This was a madwoman with my friend’s face on it. Something else felt off in that moment. It was a Friday. The sun was up. If not for yesterday I’d be teaching right now. “What time is-?” My mouth snapped shut as Janet ripped the tapes off my diaper and peeled it back. I went numb and mute as Janet broke out the baby wipes and started cleaning my crotch and backside. I don’t think something like this was ever covered when I was a child; but for some reason it didn’t seem right to have a conversation while I was in the middle of having my ass wiped. Apparently, Janet didn’t quite feel the same way. “We’ve got a big day ahead of us, baby boy.” She chirped. “We’re going to the stylist, and the doctor, and then a very very special place. I took the whole day off and left lesson plans for a substitute so we could have today and the whole weekend to get adjusted.” Adjusted? Is that what she was calling it? I just gritted my teeth with each wipe, trying to concentrate even as it felt like I was being probed inside and out. I didn’t bother to ask “where” this special place was. What would be the point? She would’ve told me if I’d been meant to know. She wouldn’t tell me. Knowledge was another form of control that I wasn’t allowed to wield anymore. Not according to her or any other Amazon that had been in my life prior. What I did know was that I had to pee a little bit again. More proof that I wasn’t really a bedwetter or a pants pooper. Proof that I’d only be able to present myself. For half an eyeblink, as Janet threw the last of the wipes in the used diaper and started to ball it up, I considered letting my bladder go. She wanted a baby so badly, let her see the downside with a little target practice. Problem was I wasn’t a baby. And I’m not referring to emotional or mental states, either. I’m not exactly a stud; not even by Little standards. Amazon diapers would more than contain me. But I had gone through puberty all the same and had more than nub. When actual infant boys pee, the only direction it can go is “out”. Barely a nub there. Right then, my pecker was positioned so that if I let go I’d more than likely end up pissing on my chest (if I was lucky). I could hypothetically take aim and fire, but not even Janet- typical Amazon that she had become-would think it innocent or accidental. Not worth the risk. So I was left with the choice of peeing all over myself and forcing janet to wipe me down more while confirming her own biases... or holding it in long enough to at least pee in a diaper...allowing Janet to confirm her own biases. “It’s just not fair,” I whispered again. Janet tossed the used diaper into the pale. “What’d you say, Clark?” “Nothing,” I said. I took a deep breath and braced for another diaper...hopefully one that I could walk in and fantasize escape in. I wasn’t escaping today. I’d already made peace with that. I’d have to see the system before I figured out how to crack it. That meant being “good” for the time being. The fresh diaper didn’t come right away though. Involuntarily I let out a yelp as Janet picked me up and held me against her. “You didn’t get to have a bath yesterday,” she told me. “Let’s fix that.” Janet’s words went in one ear and out the other. I was already freaking out about being naked. I don’t think of myself as a prude. I don’t think there’s anything wrong or immoral with being unclothed in certain circumstances. I just think there’s a level of vulnerability about being naked around people; or even naked just by yourself. Clothes, even ones that would do nothing for you in a fight are a kind of armor in that they conceal some of your most vulnerable parts. Being naked around someone is a sign of power and trust. Either you’re naked and feel powerful enough to expose everything, or you trust the people you’re with to see you at your most physically vulnerable. Cassie and I would be naked around each other all the time in the comfort of our own home; oftentimes doing nothing remotely sexual. We were just two people, doing our own thing and didn’t feel like having any clothes on. Other times one of us would be naked, and the other one was cold or just didn’t feel like going through the effort of shedding clothes. Cassie and I were equals. We knew each other completely. We trusted each other. This was completely different. I was naked in this woman’s arms, her bare hand literally cradling my butt. She was fully clothed; extra even with the rubber splash apron. We were decidedly not equals; after yesterday I felt like I didn’t know Janet at all and neither of us truly trusted each other. What were crib bars and highchair trays but restraints built on lack of trust? Even during all four diaper changes (yes I’d counted) I’d been seen naked but it had been more of a transitory thing. Here? In Janet’s arms? I was completely naked and didn’t like it one bit. I felt vulnerable. Powerless. I actually wanted to go back into a diaper if only for the sliver of protection it provided. Shivering but not from cold, I was carried out of the disgustingly pink nursery and into a pristine white bathroom. The bathtub was already filling up. Janet sat me down on the edge of the tub and I looked at the open bathroom door while she tested the water. Janet might not be trusting for an Amazon, but she was careless. Overconfident. I wouldn’t run. Not yet. But someday...soon maybe… I glanced down at my own hairless body and winced again. Escape or not, this part was permanent. I’d have to get used to having the skin of a toddler. Some Littles- especially in non-Amazon run countries- still have surgeries that leave scars. Closed up gashes on legs and stomachs and chests; wherever the knife sliced them open to get at a defective organ or a shattered bone. The level of medical technology in those countries hasn’t caught up to Amazons in that regard. I’d been scarred, too...it’s just my scars were all over and completely smooth and undetectable. I turned my neck and looked over Janet’s head and arms as she bent down and switched the water around with one hand while adjusting the hot and cold knobs with the other. I peered a large plastic Amazon sized jug that sat on the opposite edge of the tub; it’s label just barely readable at the periphery from where I was sitting. My eyes still slightly blurry with sleep could still make out the sudzy looking logo on it. “Is that…?” I hesitated. “Is that bubble bath?” Janet’s head whipped around as if me speaking to her was some kind of miracle.. “Yes,” she beamed. “Yes it is!” She looked at me, as if trying to get a read. “Would you...would you like some?” There was a strange kind of hope in those eyes. Maybe even a kind of lust. I don’t know how else to describe it. Mentally, I made some calculations. “Yes, please…” I said, and hated myself a bit for adding in that “please”. Janet smiled even brighter and started adding in bubble bath by the cap full; letting the still running water churn it around and mix it. Good. The bubbles would give me a modicum of cover. On a lighter note, the stuff inside the jug was a bright sky blue. No great importance, but it was a small relief after a night being surrounded by pink. “If my Little baby Clark wants some bubble bath,” Janet said as she placed me in the tub, “then he’ll get bubble bath!” Great. She was “spoiling” me. At least I didn’t have to call her “Mommy.” I must’ve made a face when she plunked me in the drink. “Too hot?” she asked. It was just below lobster boiling. I had barely nodded when her hand shot to the cold knob; even going so far as to splash some of the cold water gingerly in my direction. It helped a little. “Thank you,” I mumbled, more out of habit than out of actual gratitude. No need to make waves right now. This was day one of Hell...just make it to day two. My muscles were just barely starting to untense when a rubber yellow terror jumped in my vision. Janet had grabbed a bath toy and was now shoving it in my face. “Ducky?” There is no way to tell an Amazon “no” and get the desired result. Saying yes doesn’t help either. I was out of words. I just kept my mouth shut and glared at her. I was not her baby. Not her doll. Right then I wasn’t even her friend. It did not have quite the desired effect. Janet giggled. Tittered with delight even. “Oh my gawd!” she cooed. She dropped the rubber duck in the foamy water beside me. “Are you giving me your ‘teacher’ look?” I said nothing. Just doubled down. “You are, aren’t you?!” She was blushing, but it was for me, not at me. I started trembling, vibrating even. Anger? Fear? Righteous indignation? All of the above and more? Yes. The stare down was not having the desired effect. I was never quite the terror of campus, but I’d at least been able to make a second grader or two walk away and get back to class. “Cutie,” Janet said, “that wouldn’t have worked on me back when we were co-workers.” Carelessly, whimsically even, she palmed a few suds and rubbed them into my head. I now had a bubble hat... “It’s definitely not going to work now.” To hammer in the point, she grabbed her phone out of her rubber apron and clicked a pic faster than I had time to realize what was going on. “No! Don’t!” I cried out. “Aaaaand post,” Janet said. She slipped her phone back into the rubber apron. “So cute.” She was absolutely giddy. My attempt at a glower just melted to something more of a mope as rage transmogrified into despair. My bath picture, naked save cotton candy scented bubbles in my hair, had just been posted online. It was the first of what would no doubt be many more photos and indignities that I’d have to endure today. I didn’t have to wait long for worse to come my way. Babies didn’t bathe themselves. Janet grabbed a washcloth and dipped it in the soapy water. “Give me your arm,” she said. It was nicely put, but it was still a demand. No choice; no point in resisting. Even though I would have loved to have splashed so much to have made her rubber apron pointless; I wasn’t ready to test those metaphorical waters. Littles that openly rebelled so hard and fast got their minds fucked out of their skull via a hypno screen. So, I gave her my arm and let her rub up and down my arm. “Thank you,” she told me. PING! She reached for my left side. “Other arm.” I obeyed. PING! The washcloth scrubbed me from shoulder to hand. “Now let’s get your ears.” PING! “And your neck!” PING! “And your face!” PING! She was gentle, admittedly. And through the washcloth her fingers danced, making tiny tickling motions. I was in no mood to laugh, though. I even bit my tongue to purposefully suppress anything from getting out. “Next let’s get your arms and chest.” PING! PING! “And your belly button!” PING! Even muffled by the apron, the incessant noise coming from Janet’s phone was distracting. “Are you sure you called out successfully?” I said. “You seem to be getting a lot of texts.” Admittedly, I probably sounded a smug; a bit spiteful, too. A knowing smirk flashed on her lips. “Those are just Facelog notifications. People are responding to the picture I just posted, baby.” What?! Every ping...every annoying little ding had been people...possibly people I knew responding and replying to that picture. Every little ding and ping was somebody seeing me naked and hairless in a bathtub. My mouth hung open. Janet just giggled some more. Her hand plunged beneath the water. “Now let’s wash your toes.” PING! “And your legs.” PING! PING! “And your penis.” PING! PING! PING! I just sat there in shock. Mute and dumb as every last bit of my personal space was violated; most if not for the first time. I was forced to stand up. “Gotta get that hiney too. Wipes won’t do all the work.” PING! PING! PING! PING! I stood there as my ass was washed for me. I jumped and all but cannonballed when I heard the tell-tale camera sound effect from behind me. “Aaaaaand post. I knew you’d love playin’ in the bubbles,” Janet cooed. I didn’t reply. I was only starting to digest the fact that now my naked ass was on Facelog. PING! PING! PING! PING! PING! And Janet’s tiny corner of the internet was having a field day with it, apparently. “Such a good baby!” No. No I wasn’t. I was just being a good doll. But what was I supposed to do? Everyone thinks they’re going to lead the revolution until the monsters are at their door. And even if they do swing; they only get one good punch in before they’re taken away and the neighbors quietly shake their heads. Trapped inside myself, I didn’t notice when Janet came back with a loaded toothbrush and some kind of creme filled mouthguard; Little sized. “We’re not gonna have bathtime like this every morning, Clark.” she said. “Mommy has to get to work early. But we can have baths at night before bed, okay?” No. It wasn’t okay. Nothing about this was okay. But that’s not what “okay?” meant in this circumstance. “I understand,” I replied. “Good,” she said. “Something we will be doing every day is taking care of your teeth!” Instantly, thoughts of gum mouthed and pumpkin grinning Littles flashed across my gray matter. Littles like that one on the bus, eating gum off the floor. I didn’t want my teeth “taken care of”. Not like that! Stupidly, I was about to object. I opened my mouth to ask a question or to just scream. That was all the opening my captor needed. Janet grabbed my jaw with one hand, and forced a toothbrush past my lips. My mouth foamed up as bristles coated with bubblegum flavored toothpaste scraped across my teeth and gums. I hate bubblegum, too. Absolutely horrid stuff. Littles are supposed to like sweet stuff, but bubblegum is my own personal exception. I thrashed, I really did. Thrashing only made Janet reflexively grab onto my jaw and brush that much harder. She was positively gentle on my skin but ready to murder my mouth. Thrashing wasn’t working out. “Okay,” she said after far too long. “Spit.” I did. Right onto the floor. Fuck it. I’d pretend not to know better. It’s not like she gave me a sink or a cup. Janet didn’t even acknowledge it. The mouthguard forced its way inside me and cupped my teeth. “Don’t bite down,” Janet warned. “This will help clean your teeth and make them white and shiny.” Clean them? Or make them fall out? I could only grimace as the foam that had been cradled in the mouth guard tingled on my teeth. At least it wasn’t bubble gum flavored. Giant Amazon fingers pried the mouthpiece out. “All done.” It wasn’t, I told myself. Not by a longshot. It was just the beginning. I was given just enough warning to close my eyes before my hair was rinsed out with a cup of warm water. Amazon cups sometimes seem close to Little sized buckets. Just before Janet pulled the drain plug, I remembered to pee, letting the bubbles and sudz conceal my added stream. Yeah. Kinda gross, I’ll admit. But better down the drain than in my pants. I was still in a kind of denial; still mourning my lost adulthood. Peeing in the shower was something I did occasionally when I was still in charge of my bladder. Peeing in the tub was close enough. Still...not fair. Wrapping me up in a fluffy bath towel, Janet carried me back into the nursery and finished drying me off. “Gotta get my Little boy dressed,” she said. “Can’t let ‘im go out all nakied!” Ironic considering she had no qualms about posting naked pictures online. Typical. Diving deep into my own survival, I started taking notes of my surroundings. Ignore the pings that were still coming from Janet’s phone, I told myself. I had to focus on how to get out; how to free myself now that no one else was going to. Again, Janet just pinned me down on the changing table with her free hand. She didn’t like to use the chest strap. Good. I could use that. Don’t squirm, and she might let that hand go lax. Unlike the changing table in Beouf’s classroom, the diapers were directly above me. Janet didn’t have to bend over or take her eyes off of me to reload supplies. Bad. As Janet unfolded the fresh diaper, I tilted my head to the side and appreciated just how high up I was. The changing table was taller than me. Much taller. I wasn’t roll-off-and-die high up; but any advantage I’d have gained through surprise would be lost in getting my bearings after the fall. Okay. Nix changing table escape plans. I’d probably. “There,” Janet said, giving my belly a quick tickle. “I bet it feels better to have some clothes back on.” I was so deep in thought that it hadn’t registered that I’d been fully re-diapered until the tapes were already done up. Pulling me up into a sitting position, she planted a kiss on my forehead. “I love you,” she said. I didn’t know how to react to that just then. So I just avoided eye contact and looked down at my knees. I caught sight of my diaper. Puffy white, with pictures of rainbow colored monkeys dancing along the landing zone. Why did it look so familiar? I’d seen it before somewhere. It was the same type of diaper that had been planted in my room just before Spring Break. Same brand that Ivy Zoge wore, too, come to think of it. But that’s not what was bugging me. Monkeez! These were Monkeez! The same diaper brand that I’d shopped for my nephew wore. Sitting up there on the changing table, I looked just like he did! “Monkeez is the only major diaper company that sizes for all babies,” my sister-in-law had told me. And to Amazon thinking, she was right. These fit me just fine… Not only did I look like a baby, to Amazon sensibilities, but in a weird perverse sort-of-way way to Little ones too. I was in a scaled up version of something that babies...actual babies wore and used; and knowing that made it kind of worse for some reason. I didn’t have time to ruminate or stare at the diaper decorations any further. A field of white was yanked over my head, my arms disentangling themselves and being guided through armholes. “I was going to use this to complement a dress,” Janet told me, “but I think a plain white onesie will work until we get you some better boy clothes, don’t you?” She didn’t wait for me to reply before laying me back down and sealing me in at the crotch snaps. That’s the best part for Amazons with Little dolls; no consent required. Some assembly perhaps, but zero consent. Back on Janet’s hip I went after she’d checked her phone and removed the apron. Back into the kitchen we went. Great. Another highchair feeding, with a pristine white onesie that might very well be ruined by the end. Then time. Such is life in the dollhouse. “No time for a proper breakfast, hon,” she said, bobbing me to the fridge. She opened the door and dug out one of the last things I’d have expected. Speaking of mundane normal things being scaled up: “Do you want a shake?” It was a breakfast shake. Just like the ones I chugged everyday before hopping onto my scooter. It was a two-liter’s worth; much bigger than anything my weak morning stomach could assume in one sitting, but it was the exact same packaging and logo. Chocolate too. “You drink these?” I asked. Janet took a baby bottle out of the cabinet, cracked the lid of the Amazon sized shake and poured some in. “I mean, it’s not the greatest flavor,” she said. “But it fills me up first thing in the morning and helps keep my weight under control.” She chuckled to herself. “Maybe it’s the flavor that makes it so I don’t eat too much.” I watched as she screwed the cap on the baby bottle and handed it to me. “Drink up.” I did. Immediately. Even through a rubber nipple, the taste was amazing. That got another giggle from Janet. “Yup,” she said to no one in particular. “I think he likes it.” My eyes rolled back in my head as I suckled. I closed them to just shut out the world and enjoy the taste. I didn’t even argue or struggle as she cradled me. It wasn’t the chalky taste of protein mixed with chocolate that I exalted in. It was the taste of familiarity, the taste of routine, the taste of something that wasn’t explicitly made for a “baby”. The taste was Heaven. “My girlfriends were right,” Janet said. “This stuff does make good baby formula in a pinch.” Heaven came crashing back down to purgatory with those words. The taste was good...but not that good. Looking up at her, I watched as she downed the rest of the bottle in just a few gulps, followed by a mighty belch. “Nice one.” I shut my mouth. Stupid, Clark! Stupid! In reply, Janet draped me over her shoulder. “Thanks. Your turn.” Heavy hands patted and pounded my back until my own gas bubble rumbled up out of my belly and shot into the air. “Like Mommy, like baby!” I grimaced as another burp shot out of me. In sharing her food- in talking to me like I was something of an equal- Janet had tricked me into thinking she was decent for just long enough so that I guzzled the stuff down. It had just made burping me all the easier. “Don’t get used to this,” Janet warned. “As soon as we go back to school, you’ll be eating breakfast and lunch with the rest of the Littles.” Whatever good feelings the breakfast shake had given me that hadn’t been already destroyed evaporated with that declaration of my future. “I understand,” I sighed. I wanted to growl...but sighing would have to do for now. She traipsed over to the kitchen table and reached for a certain stuffed animal that had been abandoned. “Don’t forget your lion,” she said, handing it to me. “Wouldn’t want him to get lost.” I took the lion and held it, if only so that Janet would let the matter be. I didn’t hug it or cuddle it close as much as I pretended I was cutting off its air supply. Crush its ribs. Inflict on it all the pain that I wanted to inflict on other, bigger, more deserving people. “What’s his name?” Janet asked as we got to the garage door. I rolled my eyes but hid my face. “It doesn’t have a name. It’s just a dumb stuffed lion.” “Okay, Clark.” she replied. Even though she wasn’t looking right at me, I could still hear the condescending smile in her tone. “Just let me know what Lion’s name is when you think of it.”

Chapter 28: My Last I.E.P. Meeting “Is everyone here?” “I think so.” “Then let’s begin with proper introductions.” “Hello I’m Tamara Bankhead, and I’m the Resource Compliance Specialist.” “Hi, I’m Chandra Skinner: Speech and Language Pathologist.” “Hello, I’m Maxine Winters: Physical Therapist.” “Hello, I’m Jasmine Sosa: Occupational Therapist.” “And I’m Clark Gibson: Pre-Kindergarten Teacher.” There was no friendly smile. No nervous chuckle. “Hello everyone.” The Amazon across the table made a point to turn her head and make contact with everyone sitting around the table; everybody except me. “I’m Martha Dunwhich; Emily’s mother.” An overlapping wave of “Hello” and “Nice to meet you” followed. Everybody is always friendly to the parent at an I.E.P. meeting, even when the parent has a stick up her you-know-where. Education is just as much a service industry as it is a profession, if not moreso. “We are gathered here today,” Bankhead all but read from a pre-approved script, “to review Emily’s academic and developmental goals for this calendar year and to ensure and clarify understanding among all members of her Individualized Education Plan Team.” Translation: “Emily’s mother is terrified that a Little will be educating her daughter and wants to be reassured that he knows what he’s doing and that there will be enough Amazons and even Tweeners so that Emily’s education won’t be ruined by a baby teaching her baby.” This kind of thing happened at least once at the beginning of every year. I knew it was going to happen, less than a week ago, when parents and students were allowed to walk campus and find their children’s classrooms. After ten years I’d gotten good at recognizing that politely outraged look in an Amazon’s eyes. To be fair, by the end of the year, if not sooner, this woman would see how good of a job I was doing, and be singing my praises by this time next year. To be fair, she was an Amazon and thus possessed of a nearly overpowering maternal instinct and was likely taught her entire life that the only school someone my size belonged in was a daycare. To be fair, Emily was her only child and according to her file and my experience over the last three days was nowhere near potty trained and lacked a whole bunch of basic pre-academic skills; and so her own guilt and anxiety was likely causing her to project a lot of things. But I didn’t feel like being fair just then. It was a crap day so far. I was going to have to pay a good chunk of change to get my washing machine fixed. I was on my last pair of clean and neatly pressed slacks and was going commando because said machine was on the fritz. My shaving razor was getting dull, so I’d had to practically scrape the stubble off my cheeks; my beard trimmer wasn’t much better. And to top everything off, I was missing my lunch again, so I was getting hungry. These things always seemed to be scheduled right when I was supposed to have lunch. So yeah, I was in no mood to be fair just then. Life wasn’t fair. So why should I have to be? My face was a placid mask of calm as I quietly thought bad things about Bankhead. Bankhead was a Resource Compliance Specialist: Essentially, a glorified secretary whose sole job was to keep minutes for and run these types of meetings, as well as make sure everyone else had their paperwork properly filled out. It was a thankless job, but she made more money than me, so she didn’t need thanks. “For this meeting-” “Excuse me,” Emily’s mother cut Bankhead off. “I don’t want to waste everyone’s time and would like to skip past the red tape. Can we please just get to discussing my concerns?” Bankhead stopped, and my coworkers and I exchanged quiet but anxious looks. I might be the only one standing on my chair, but we were all on our toes. Yup, this was going to be one of those mothers. Even the way Martha Dunwhich was dressed-high end navy blue skirt suit with bleached blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail and sunglasses resting on her head- just screamed “I want to speak to your manager” levels of entitlement. Bankhead was shaken a bit. “Oh um...of course.” “I’m sure that Mr...Mr…” Mrs. Dunwhich paused as if looking for the right words. She looked at me. “What was your name again, honey?” I smiled back politely. “Gibson.” I said. “Clark Gibson.” Typical Amazon. Couldn’t even be bothered to remember my name ten seconds after I’d said it, never mind all of the times she’d already seen it in meeting invitations and classroom announcements. “While I’m sure that Clark is very good with children, I’m not sure if the classroom he’s in is the best possible setting for my daughter.” Wow. That was a new one. Not only could she not bring herself to call me by my last name, but she couldn’t even verbally confirm that it was my classroom; just the classroom that I happened to be in. Bankhead adjusted her glasses. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Dunwhich, but Oakshire Elementary has only the one Pre-Kindergarten classroom.” Bankhead was opening with the old ‘you-don’t-have-a-choice’ gambit. “Mr. Gibson is an exceptional teacher,” Miss Sosa, the O.T. chimed in. “He’s very good at implementing therapies into his everyday curriculum so that students make gains throughout the year.” Nods all around the table. Inwardly I smiled a bit. Acknowledgement felt good. Had I been a bit bigger, I might’ve sat down and leaned back in my chair a bit. “Plus, all of his students end up potty trained by the time they get to Kindergarten.” Thank you Mrs. Skinner. Not quite the endorsement I was hoping for, but I’d take it. “What are his qualifications?” Again, she was talking about me, but not to me. Typical. Times like this are always rough for me: Do I speak up for myself, thus asserting my professional authority, or do I rely on the so-called benevolence of Amazonian professionals to continue to speak for me? The women sitting around the table had done enough I’d decided. Time to sell her on my own merits. “I’ve got a bachelor’s degree in Elementary Education with up to date certification on Early Childhood education as well as ten years of experience teaching.” I was tempted to go into professional speak and add in more technical education terms than were necessary, but decided to go with my gut and speak plainly. “I’ve got former students walking all over campus and they’re all doing quite well.” Her nose wrinkled a bit in disgust. “And when were you potty trained?” Boom. Point Blank calling my adulthood into question. This was a trap. I knew it was a trap. It wasn’t Raine Forrest levels of obvious, but it was still pretty blatant. If I told her that I’d been potty trained at two, she might accuse me of having a superiority complex or being uppity. If I lied and said around three or four, that could be ammo, too. Emily wasn’t even in Pull-Ups yet. Even asking about that bit of information was calling my competence into question. I knew how to dodge this attack. “Like most skills, potty training is more about having it than when you got it.” The mother repeated the question. “When were you potty trained?” I shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, just like most people,” I told her, “it was so long ago that I don’t remember.” Slowly, decisively, the woman asked. “Then why are you pooping your pants?” “Excuse me?!” I felt my blood boiling. “Why are you pooping your pants?” She said it even slower that time. Everybody, myself included, scowled. Ms. Winters spoke up for me. “Ma’am, that is highly inappropriate!” “Check him,” the parent of my newest student said. “After three years of changing diapers, I’d know that smell anywhere. Check him.” The thing about skin is that it tends to tune things out. Unless things are too tight or too bulky we don’t tend to notice that we’re wearing clothes. Bugs can land on our arms and unless they skitter too much or sting or bite, we might not know that they’re there. Nobody feels how cold the water is once they’ve been in the pool long enough. And me? I didn’t realize that I’d shit myself until the first semi-solid clump started dripping down the near back of my inner left thigh. The world stopped. It froze. Sound didn’t register in my ears. Light and shapes and colors and the people in the room stopped registering my eyes. My jaw hung open stupidly and my eyes went wide and unblinking. My lungs didn’t contract as much as they shivered. And my heartbeat thundered through my entire body. I had shit my pants. In public. In front of no less than five Amazons, and I hadn’t even realized it was happening until just after. I was doomed. Doomed. No amount of quick thinking or careful word play or exploiting social moores or technicalities was going to save me. Bankhead was behind me. I only knew it was her by her voice and her absence from behind her laptop at the head of the table. “Excuse me, Mr. Gibson.” Two fingers hooked into the waistband of my pants. Not even with my belt cinching everything around my waist to the point of leaving marks would those two fingers be stopped. “No…” I whispered. Not like this. Not like this. “Let me just che-...” the Amazon stopped mid sentence. “Whoah!” I didn’t see the look on Bankhead’s face. But I did see the look of surprise in the various therapists eyes and the smug knowing look in Mrs. Dunwhich’s. I felt the cooling, greasy feel of brown stained shirttails being pulled out of my pants and streaking them against my backside. I felt more juicy, warm, disgusting shit streaking down my legs as my colon ejected a second shot into my slacks. Most of all, I felt the raging pain of a massive cramp welling up inside me like a balloon that was filling up far too fast. BLUUUUUUUUUUUUURT! My body was betraying me; verbally signalling to the entire room what it was doing. I opened my mouth to scream, nothing more than a pathetic, high pitched wail came out as the back of my pants became stained and my own feces started coating my legs. Overtaxed with shock and surprise, my bladder gave out too. If the smell and the sound didn’t give it away, the growing wet patch on my crotch sealed the deal. Amazonian hands scooped me up under the armpits and placed me on the meeting table. Just as quickly, all the others scooped up their papers and backed away from me as if I was a leper. I heard Bankhead say, “We can wipe down the table later. Easier than cleaning carpet.” “Why don’t we get him out of here?” Skinner asked. “Clean up the walkway instead?” I knew why. They didn’t want to chance for even an instant that I might escape. I could see it in their eyes. I was a Little who’d just had an accident. I needed to be punished. I needed to be diapered. I needed to be coddled and primped and conditioned. There was also a look of pity in their eyes. Pity. Sympathy. But not empathy. I wasn’t an adult any longer. Not to them. I wasn’t even a person. Just a doll. My knees buckled as my body let loose one last report. I bent over and buried my hands in my face, even as a putrid puddle formed beneath me; tears and pee and diarrhea all mixing together. Kill me. Kill me. I just wanted to die right then; but I lacked whatever manic and cruel cunning that some people become possessed of to self-harm. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to reschedule,” Sosa said. I could hear the door opening and footsteps getting farther away as people exited the meeting room. “Hello? Front office?” It was Bankhead on the phone. “We have an emergency! It’s Gibson! Get the nurse!” I just started wailing. No more words. Not just then. No more sight either. I closed my eyes and let my body be wracked with sobs. I don’t know how much time passed between that phone call, and when the door next opened. I don’t even remember if Bankhead stayed in the room with me or if she just leaned against the door in case I got any ideas of escape. Time had lost meaning for me. No more time. Out of time. Game over. Hope you had a nice life, Clark. Hoped all that flirting with disaster and high minded ideals of teaching Amazons a better way was worth it. Because it’s over now. I heard the slight squeal and whine of hinges in need of oiling as the door to the meeting room opened back up. I didn’t bother to unbury my face. Fuck the nurse. Fuck that bitch. I might’ve been crying just then but I wouldn’t let her see it. I’d stay in my tight little ball, lying in my pool of piss and shit and spit and tears. I’d make her pry me open from my little self created cocoon. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. Even if she spanked me I wouldn’t give in. I’d cry and scream, sure. But I’d be cursing with every breath as long as I was coherent enough to actually make words. I felt her hand on my back. It was gentler than I imagined it would be. She didn’t rip at my clothes. She didn’t try and manhandle me or pick me up just then. The nurse just rubbed my back as I shuddered. “Oh, Clark.” She sounded sad. Very sad. “I’m so sorry, baby.” She also didn’t sound anything like the school nurse. Snot dripping onto my mustache, I unburied my face, sat up on my knees, and looked over at my shoulder. “Beouf?” Even through her glasses I could see her eyes starting to shimmer. She was wearing rubber gloves and a matching apron. Slung over her shoulder was a plain khaki colored satchel bag. I could see the changing pad poking out of it. “Hey, hon.” Time stopped again. I started bawling again. I re-buried my face and was shrieking and crying and making so much noise; none of it actually words in any known language. Beouf, damn her, just stood there and gently patted me on the back. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Everything’s gonna be okay, sugar.” It wasn’t. Nothing was going to be okay ever again. I kept crying. I don’t know if her being there made things worse or whether I kept bawling in some sort of infantile attempt to delay the inevitable. Both maybe? “Clark?” she said. She was still rubbing my back. “Clark? Can you hear me?” I didn’t respond. But in all of my screaming and self-pity I had already exhausted myself. Beouf didn’t have to talk over me. She just had to wait me out. “I know you’re having a bad day, sweetie,” she said. “But Mrs. B. has to clean you up.” Fuck. She was referring to herself in the third person, now. Et-tu Beouf? I remained silent. “I’m gonna clean you up, okay?” I could feel her jostling my loafers off my heels. “Tracy!” I yelped. My shoes were off my feet. I heard the rustle of a garbage bag as they went in. “What about Tracy?” I got back on my knees as my socks were stripped off my feet. “I want Tracy!” I said. “Please! Let me talk to Tracy!” “Turn around, first.” For the second time that day, two Amazonian hands manhandled me. This time I was spun around and sat on my feet, just to the right of the murky puddle I’d been sitting in. “Now what about Tracy?” “Tracy,” I said. “I need to talk to Tracy. Now.” Beouf shook her head. “Sorry, Clark. Tracy’s busy right now. Maybe after school.” My hands shot down to block hers going for my belt buckle. I looked at her. That misty eyed sadness was gone. Beouf was all business now, and she was in the business of regressing Littles. “No,” I said. “Don’t. Please, Melony. Please. Just don’t.” I almost never called her by her first name. Foolishly, I thought it might strike a chord in her. “Do you want to take your pants off yourself?” Her voice was even and patient, and even a little less deep than how she normally talked. Like she was a calm and rational adult trying to calm a child. It had the opposite effect on me. “No!” I said. “No, I don’t!” “Then I’m going to have to take them off.” “No!” I repeated myself. “No! No! No!” I suppose I could have made a more articulate argument, but it’s very hard to be well spoken on the worst day of your life; especially when you feel that any argument you make will fall on deaf ears. I folded my hands over my belt buckle, imagining that it would make some kind of impenetrable shield; an unlockable gate. A lie, to be sure, but a lie that made me feel better. Lightning quick, Beouf’s hands went for my collar, ripping open and popping off the buttons of my good shirt. “NO!” I screamed. Reflexively my hands bolted upward in some vain attempt to slap at her wrists. I”d fallen for it. As soon as my hands were above my waist, Beouf lowered hers, unbuckled my belt and unceremoniously yanked my pants down to my ankles. “There,” she said. “Now step out.” I stood there gawking, using my hands to try and mask my manhood. My whole skin turned pink. Beouf wasted no time, forcing me to step out of my own pants. With rubber gloves on, she forced one foot out, then the other. I almost fell over trying to keep my balance. The pants, along with my wallet, phone, and keys inside them went into the thin clear garbage bag provided by the custodians. “You don’t need to be embarrassed, Clark,” she said. “You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” For those of you who are reading this in the comfort of your own homes; I know that there will be more than a fair share of armchair quarterbacks talking on MistuhGwiffin.web on what I could have or should have done. I should have played it safer. I should have fought harder. I should have kicked Beouf in the teeth. That I must be a Little Helper or have gone full native by this point and wanted to have my clothes and my very essence literally stripped away from me. To those brave Littles reading this, I say: Talk and action are two very different things. And it’s a lot harder kicking an Amazon in the face when you’ve shared coffee with that face for over a decade. That’s the thing they never tell you on MistuhGwiffin.web. It’s always some random Amazon that ends up diapering and adopting you. Never anyone you know. There’s no emotion besides terror in those encounters. Maybe that’s why so many Littles distance themselves from anyone but other Littles and maybe a few Tweeners. Because Beouf treating me this way hurt me more and felt like a greater betrayal than any of the other close calls I’ve ever had. It felt like there was a great weight on my face, like there were fish hooks tied to anvils at the corners of my mouth just dragging them down. “I guess you haven’t…” I relaxed my shoulders and forsook my modesty long enough to slip off the remnants of my shirt. There was a weight pulling down on that shirt too. A weight that was pulling down on all of me; on my everything. I knew in that moment that I would never smile again. My life would be one long, exhausted, empty frown. “Good boy.” She maneuvered the changing mat behind me and laid me down. “This will make it easier to clean you up.” I didn’t reply. There was nothing I could say. ‘Lawyer’, wouldn’t work. ‘Tracy’ wasn’t getting me what I wanted. What else was I supposed to say? ‘Union’? Beouf was my representative! She was the Union at Oakshire Elementary! She started at my legs and ankles. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Clark. You’re not in trouble, hon.” Had I the energy I would have rolled my eyes. Beouf was half right. I hadn’t done anything wrong. I was in the greatest trouble in my life. Beouf had just started wiping my cheeks when the door opened again. Mrs. Brollish came in. “I just heard,” she said. “How are we doing?” She definitely wasn’t talking to me. “Just cleaning him up.” My old mentor didn’t take her eyes off me. “Done in a couple minutes.” I saw Brollish sniff and make a face. Most of my leavings were still on the table. Good. At least it was making that old hag’s life a little less pleasant. “I’ll make sure to have the custodians clean this place as soon as you’re done.” “Yes ma’am,” Beouf dragged yet another wipe over me. “Thank you.” Brollish looked down at me. “Clark,” she said. “Mr. Gibson.” She at least had the decency to talk to me like an adult one last time. “Due to the evidence I see here before me and witness testimony from multiple members of our staff as well as a parent, I am invoking the maturity clause in your contract.” She turned toward the door and walked out. I shuddered, and not just because that was the exact moment when Beouf chose to scrub between my cheeks. Bitch didn’t even wait for me to have all the shit off of me before she fired me. I might’ve cried, just then, but I was too shellshocked to react much more strongly. Life wasn’t fair. What did I expect? The nurse was coming in just as Brollish was leaving, wheeling in something heavy on a dolley. It was something like a big glass tube that was almost as big as a Tweener and framed with steel. Near the top end was a latch and a panel with different knobs. The inside of the glass had wired bulbs, like heat lamps at a fast food joint all up and down it. All told, it looked like something of a cross between a bug zapper, a tanning bed, and a cheap air conditioner. And it looked vaguely, hauntingly familiar. “Still have it from last year,” the nurse said to no one in particular. “Lucky thing the high school hasn’t asked for it back.” My voice came surging back. “NOOOOOOO!” I started thrashing, even as Mrs. Beouf had my ankles in her hand. “NOOOOOOO! NO! NO! NO! NO! FUCK THAT! FUUUUUCK THAT! FUUUUUUUUCK!” I was twisting and clawing at the wood, my teeth gnashing and my mouth foaming as I tried to shake loose. I bent my knees and I kicked out. I would kick Melony Beouf’s teeth in and get away. I would run naked through the streets all the way back home and ride buck naked all the way to Misty Brook if it meant staying out of THAT hell hole contraption. What I got instead was another pair of Amazonian hands pinning me back down on my back. “Was it something I said?” the nurse asked. Neither of us answered her. Beouf finished wiping me down like I was a rowdy two-year-old, and I shouted with unfathomable rage? Beouf was hard to be angry at, deep down. Too much experiences, too much surprise, and shock. But I’d just been fired from a decade long career and this idiot was talking about me like I couldn’t understand basic speech. The school nurse kept holding me down, while Beouf went and retrieved the shiny silver shower cap and goggles dangling from the tube. My screaming somehow found a way to intensify. “Clark,” she said when I was finally out of breath. “Mrs. B. is going to put these on your head and over your eyes. You need to do your best to keep them on. Don’t struggle with them and don’t fidget. If you try and take them off, you could end up bald and with no eyebrows.” She shoved the cap over my hair, satisfied with her own explanation. My beautiful red hair, flecked with bits of gray and white. Soon it would be the only hair I had left. “Why?” I asked. “Why are you doing this to me? “Because this will make it easier to keep you clean and take care of you.” Instead of answering my question, Beouf just sidestepped and purposefully misunderstood my question. I didn’t care much about the reasoning behind zapping every hair I’d gotten post puberty, saving that it made it easier to pretend that I’d ever gone through it. Typical Amazon. The goggles came next. I was forced back up into a sitting position so they could be locked into place, and the world went as dark as my emotions in that moment. They weren’t goggles. They were a blindfold. Fitting. I was about to be executed. I’d like to think it was Beouf who picked me up and started to slide me down into that horrendous contraption. A final gentle mercy. The burning slap on my bottom as I tried to spread myself out and wedge myself from being shoved down makes me think it wasn’t. The inside was slick. I must’ve looked like some kind of slug sliding down a windshield as my head was pushed down. Going under for the final time. Drowning. Dying. “Wait! Wait! Wait!” I heard Beouf call out. “Clark! Stick out your left hand!” Whether or not I would have complied became moot. A hand plunged down and yanked it out for me. “Almost forgot the ring!” “Oh good catch!” I heard the nurse say, “That could have been dangerous!” My wedding ring. My symbol of commitment and devotion to my wife: Cassie. My partner. My equal opposite who balanced my ideals with her pragmatism. The only woman I had ever loved... With a quick twist, that symbol was taken from me, my hand shoved back down into the pit of despair with the rest of me, and the lid was closed. “Give me back my ring!” I cried out! As big as the contraption was compared to me, I could still barely stand in the innermost layer. I was practically forced into the fetal position. I jutted the flats of my palms upward, trying. “Give me back my ring! Please!” The lid wouldn’t budge. I was trapped. I didn’t care. “GIVE ME BACK MY RING!” I heard no reply, just the low buzzing of coils heating up. With the goggled blindfold on, it was dark and warm in this place, and getting warmer by the second. “GIVE ME BACK MY RING!” I needed that ring! I needed it. It was my connection to Cassie and so much more. The Little girl at the barbecue joint. The one screaming as she was being taken to the restroom to get her diaper changed. The one who’d been a wife and mother and screamed so. She hadn’t had a wedding ring either. Even through the black out tint of the goggles, I saw the light surrounding me; Felt the heat starting to envelop me. Inside the tube, the light was bright. Bright light. Like the light at the end of the tunnel. The light of death. “GIVE! ME! BACK! MY!” ******************************************************************************************** I woke up in a cold sweat, practically rolling out of bed, screaming my lungs out. “GIVE ME BACK MY RING! GIVE ME BACK MY RING!” Cassie was on her feet and running around the bed to meet me not three seconds later. We were both naked in the dark. She held me while I came down from my panic attack; while the world of that all too real nightmare faded back into my subconscious. “It’s okay,” she told me. “It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream. Whatever it is, it’s just a dream.” I didn’t dare speak above a whisper now that I was fully awake. “I know,” I told her. “I know.” I wouldn’t be going back to sleep that night. That was something else I knew. Walking over to the computer, I logged onto the school’s website and started filling out forms for time off and requesting a substitute. “What are you doing?” Cassie called over to me. “Calling out sick,” I said. “Taking some time off.” “It’s only the first week of school,” Cassie said. “Don’t care,” I hissed back, my voice barely audible over the hum of the computer. “I need it.” Cassie and I teased. Cassie and I fought. But when we could tell that one of us was at our wits end, we backed off each other. “How much time?” “About a month,” I said. “That’s how much time off I have stored up anyways.” “Why that long? What are you going to do?” I didn’t answer her until I’d finished clicking all the right links and making sure no one from school was going to come looking for me. “First?” I said. “We’re going to get out of Oakshire. I’m quitting my job. This will make them think that I’m not and get me a couple more paychecks.” “What then?” That’s what I loved most about Cassie. She wasn’t talking me out of this. She just wanted to know what I was thinking. “I think I’ll become a writer,” I told her. “Write on the go. Publish online.” “Oooooh,” Cassie said. “An artist and writer, team? I like. Maybe I could do illustrations.” I smiled at her and gave her a kiss right on the lips. “Maybe. But first I’ve got to write a novel. Memoirs. Non-fiction.” (The End) ************************************************************************************************ If only that had been the end. If only I had listened to Cassie; listened to my common sense. Seen the signs for what they were. That wasn’t the end. No. That was just a fleeting last minute fantasy that my brain concocted right as every skin cell in my body was lit on fire. My face, armpits, genitals, chest, all of it. Everything hurt. Everything. But the physical pain felt directly proportional to how much hair got zapped away down to the root. Pain. So much pain. The kind that makes you beg for death. The kind that stretches out and just as you think you’re developing something of a tolerance for, either it waxes or you wane. I don’t think I screamed. But not for lack of trying. A proper scream would have required the strength to draw air into my lungs. Any sweat or tears that may have resulted from the heat and the stress would have evaporated instantly. If I had had an open cut it would have been cauterized on the spot. It was as if every follicle, every cell in my skin was being stabbed to death by a thousand needles made of light. It wasn’t a quick death, either. I lost consciousness. That’s when I had that last fleeting glimpse of a future that might have been had I not been so stupid. I woke up on the floor. Tired. So tired. I was still naked. Beouf had moved the changing mat over to the floor. I couldn’t move. Everything hurt. So tired. So tired. She was rubbing ointment on my skin. My flesh looked raw; close to bleeding. I couldn’t feel it, but it looked ghastly. Almost like the model of a person where the muscles remain, but the epidermis has been peeled back. The goggles had been taken off me and I could feel the air conditioner blowing in my hair. Good. At least I still had hair somewhere. “Shhhhh,” my old mentor hushed and cooed at me while she coated my tummy. “The nanites in this lotion will help your skin feel better.” It was true. The balm had a cooling effect. It was like slipping into a nice cold tub of goo after a really nasty sunburn at the beach. I tried to open my mouth, but my throat was too dry to speak. She lathered it on my face. My nose. My ears. “You’ve been through a lot.” She kept going. My legs. My toes. The soles of my feet. “Mrs. B. is gonna take care of you, though. You can rest.” My pubic area. My penis. My testicles. My taint. “Go to sleep, baby. You’re safe.” The backs of my legs. My butt. My asshole. “We’ll talk after you wake up.” Before I closed my eyes, the last thing I saw was Beouf unfolding a fresh diaper. The last thing I felt was my rump hitting the soft padding.

Another short update, but i think this chapter might be pretty long when it's done. ________________________________________________ Chapter 25 Part 1 It was lunchtime. Jamie knew Mom and Amanda would be picking him up soon for his first therapist appointment. He was having mixed feelings about it. To start with, they hadn’t asked him if he wanted to see a therapist. It was just announced. Jamie knew why they would have him see a therapist, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to. He’d seen on a couple of times before. One in college for a while, another during his career. He couldn’t remember the first one’s name – that’s how much she helped. The second one was the classic shrink. He’d say something, and she’d node and say “yeah” and “uh huh” and otherwise stay silent until he felt awkward enough to say something else. Jamie understood the technique, but it wasn’t the kind of therapy he thought he’d signed up for. If all Jamie needed was a friendly ear, he could have talked to the neighbor’s dog or a sympathetic wall. She wouldn’t say anything until the session was five minutes from over, and then he’d leave feeling nothing had been resolved, let alone discussed. Moreover, Jamie didn’t know if he wanted to talk about things. Talking about them helps, sure, but sometimes not talking about things helps, too. Between daycare and everything else he was still adjusting to, why bring up the past, which is what he assumed they thought he needed therapy for. He saw no reason not to talk to Ella about his feelings. “So I’m leaving early today to go see a therapist.” “I’m leaving early to see my physical therapist.” “I’ve been meaning to ask if you’re okay.” “Fine. Just healing from something. Did you notice something that looked not okay?” “No … well, I noticed you get tired easily, physically … like when we walked around the field and you needed to stop … just wanted to know if you’re okay … sorry, I’ll stop talking about it.” Jamie cursed his social skills. There were times when a part of his brain would tell, “Don’t say that,” and the other part would respond, “Saying it anyway, Asshole” and ride away on a motorcycle purposefully throwing mud all over the first part. Ella responded by taking another bite of her lunch. Jamie was sure he’d screwed up the only promising regular friendship he had. He was good at a lot of things, but making friends and knowing when to shut up weren’t them. In a professional setting, he was Mr. Discretion. In social settings, he was Mr. Awkward. He sometimes wondered if he did have some degree of Autism Spectrum Disorder. That was the trendy thing to say or joke about, but he didn’t find it funny. He worked with too many kids who did have ASD. It was just that sometimes he would be so inept in unstructured social interactions that he felt it had to be more than being an introvert or just awkward. He sat there glumly wishing he could turn the clock back 5 minutes. Ella stirred her lunch with her spork. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.” Jamie head her fine and wasn’t sure if she was being coy or what her intent was. “What do you mean?” “Tell me why you’re going to see a therapist, and I’ll tell you why I go to PT.” Those two things are completely different, Jamie thought. Revealing your emotional or mental health problems wasn’t the same as physical condition. “That’s hardly the same,” he replied. “Why aren’t they?” Ella knew what he was going to say. “Because my … mental health issues are … they’re more sensitive than a … physical problem.” “Is a mental health problem a real health problem?” “Yeah.” “So either you’re attaching a stigma to mental health, or think I am, or you just don’t wanna say. And if you don’t wanna say, that’s fine. We don’t have to talk about.” Jamie didn’t want to talk about it. What he wanted to talk about was Ella and why it was important that no one knew there was an unregressed little at Little Hearth, specifically her. Jamie knew Mom had asked Diane if she had experience with unregressed little, and Diane had responded with just a yes when she must have known telling Rebecca there was another unregressed little in her care would likely have secured Rebecca’s business on the spot. Maybe being a little more open would make Ella a little more open. “I used to be a social worker. I got to the point where I couldn’t stand to deal with everything I had to deal with and be unable to fix it all, and I didn’t think I could stay back there and just walk away from it. So I came here. I think Mom wants me to talk about all that with a therapist.” Ella turned away from Jamie and pulled her back, revealing a scar running down her neck and into her dress. She let her hair fall and turned back. “I had surgery.” “That scar looks old.” “It is.” “But you still go to therapy for it?” “Yep.” Becky and Amanda came through the classroom door. Jamie found himself torn. He wanted to leave daycare; he didn’t want to go to see a therapist; he wanted to keep talking to Ella. All incompatible with one another. “Hey, buddy,” Amanda said when she got near. “You ready to go?” “Yes,” Jamie replied, pushing his lunch away. It wasn’t very good anyway. “This is Ella, by the way. Ella, this is my sister Amanda and my mom, Becky.” Polite handshakes were exchanged. ______________________________________________________________________________ “Nice to meet you, Jamie. You can call me Mary.” “Nice to meet you as well, Mary.” “If it’s alright with you, Amanda and your mom are going to wait in the outer room while we talk alone.” “That’s fine.” “See you soon, Jamie,” Becky said with a small wave as Mary closed the door behind them. Mary turned on a floor fan and pointed it at the door. “Sorry. Just helps makes sure everything we say in here stays in here. Please, have a seat.” Jamie sat down on a regular sofa, one meant to fit littles. It wasn’t a psychiatrist’s couch either, just a regular sofa with a regular coffee table in from of it. Mary sat down in a chair next to the sofa. It was awkward her being so close and looming over him so much, but Jamie liked being on furniture his eye, not up on something he’d have to scramble up or get her help with. Still, he was craning his neck to look at her. It would be easier not to. “Do you mind if I lay down. It’s just hard to talk to you from down here.” “No, go right ahead. Most of my patients do.” Jamie got situated. “Comfortable?” “Yes.” “So, introductions then. My name is Dr. Mary Easterbrook. I specialize in littles only. I don’t see bigs or big children. You should know up front two things. One, I will never tell anyone exactly what you say in here. Two, I will tell your mom and Amanda what we talk about in here, and only them.” “Why them? Isn’t there some sort of privilege?” “No, just like if you were a big kid, I can tell your mom anything I think she needs to know in order to help the two of us in the therapeutic process, and your mom wants Amanda to know, too. If there’s something specifically you don’t want me to tell them, I’ll do my best to abide by that, but I can’t promise. And I won’t tell them anything I don’t think they need to know.” Jamie was trying to keep an open mind. So far this just reminded him of his place in the power structure, specifically at the bottom of it. He understood why she would tell parents and guardians what their little said, but it required him to accept that he was a little and he had no privacy this doctor needed to respect. Therapy works when the patient is open and honest, and already Jamie felt he had to hold back. “How do I know what you think they need to know? I don’t mean to get us off on the wrong foot here, but I mean, why should I be open if I get nor privacy? What if I want to talk about them, for instance?” Mary had worked with a few unregressed littles, and this was always the conversation at first. “I won’t tell them any details unless they absolutely need to know. Otherwise, I’ll keep it vague. As for why you should be open, because it will help you. Do you believe that?” Jamie did, though he also realized the potential for some conflict between his therapeutic interests and his I-have-to-live-with-these-people interests. “I believe that.” To an extent, he wanted to add. “Good. So you know, I do have experience with unregressed littles. There aren’t many of you, and I’m one of the only therapists in Itali who works with them. And I say that just to let I understand your cognitive level. So, I have your file from the agency and notes from what your mom and Amanda told me. Why don’t we start by you telling me about what your time here has been like so far?” Geez, Jamie thought, that’s so much to review. “That’s …” Jamie wasn’t even sure where to start. “How about starting with easy stuff? What makes you happy here?” “Amanda, Mom … Amanda’s friend Mel … Mom’s friend Jane … April, my daycare teacher, she’s nice to me … most little food … not having to go to work, but that’s a mixed blessing … I like feeling younger physically … I exercise a lot here.” When he didn’t add anything after ten seconds, Mary asked, “What don’t you like here?” “When people treat me like a regressed little, you know, like when they think I’m dumb – sorry, not dumb – cognitively underdeveloped, I guess, or incompetent. Not having many people to talk to, getting bored at daycare, getting bored in general sometimes … feeling like I don’t contribute … having to ask for things, you know, bothering people for little stuff … not fitting, but I knew that was going to be a problem … missing my friend, Cheryl.” After another pause, “And what are maybe not sure if you like or dislike?” “Ella, this girl at daycare. I like that she’s there and is also unregressed, but she’s really hard to figure out, too. That sometimes I like being treated like a typical little … I mean, I like when Mom or Amanda feed me a bottle, and sometimes when I use my pacifier; I just don’t like that I like those things, sometimes, I think. And I guess, just being here. I’m not sure if I like it here or not, to be honest. I like my people, and I like not having to deal with a lot of stuff I had to deal with back there, but at the same time I miss certain things … and feel that I walked away from things I shouldn’t have. Mary gave it a few beats. “That gives us an awful lot to talk about.” Jamie laughed for the first time all day. “Ya think?”

I do not see it as a handicap. I run a lawn service and I wear and the girl that works for me does aswell. We get more done in a day then most do in two days because we dont have to stop and use the can and if her or I need to change we do it in the trailer. Both of us had been in motorcycle wrecks but as said before we can do anything anyone can do and sometimes even better as we dont have to stop every 30 mins for a potty break. I have no problems hiring anyone that has to wear. Infact I would hire them before I would hire anyone else.