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BB’s Nursery and Day Care Chapter 2 Sunday morning came with the sun shining and the birds chirping. Edna was already up. She had a lot to do to this morning. She was fully dressed in a typical navy blue business jacket, matching skirt, white silk blouse and low heeled shoes. She always felt high heels were for the young and the vain, and she was no longer either having celebrated a 55th birthday a few months ago. This was what she usually wore back when she was working every day at BB’s. Now a days she was not needed as much anymore and spent more time doing charity work and puttering around the house. She was sitting at the kitchen table eating a light breakfast and writing a task list. As she sipped her coffee she started writing. 1. Contact auto shop (Ed’s Auto body shop?) need repair quote. 2. Find old fence plan and buy new materials, in garage? 3. Visit plant nursery. Look at plants to replace roses. Take Tammi? Garden dress, rubber boots? 4. Remind April to have car towed from yard. 5. Interview Tammi’s new Nanny. 6. Arrange Tammi’s in-processing. 7. Sign Judges Agreement in lieu of charges. 8. Get all signatures. April, Tammi, mine – important! 9. Prepare for April, tour, history, sedatives? She spent some time looking at the last item. She had dealt with many an angry parent over the years but never one she was intimately involved with. She liked April very much and loved how she and James made such a great couple. But she did not know her well enough to predict how she would react today. That was always the issue, not knowing how April would react. She finished her coffee and headed out the door. It wasn’t even 6 am yet. She opened the garage and got into her older car. Good thing she kept it for visitors otherwise she would have had to arrange for security to pick her up. Can’t Uber to a secure facility. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++ It took almost 30 minutes to reach BB’s. BB’s was located in the industrial side of town. They owned two large converted warehouses, one for the nursery and daycare and one converted into a dozen two bedroom apartments for the Nannies. Both buildings were within a tall security fence with barbed wire and evenly spaced security cameras. To enter the property you had to scan a badge or push the button to talk to security. Edna scanned her badge and waited for the gate to open. Near the front door were two parking spots with signs that said “Reserved – Owner” and one that said “Reserved – Head Mistress”. Edna pulled into the one that read “Owner”. Since she stepped back from the day to day operation Rose has become “Head Mistress”. She stepped out of the car grabbed her purse and hurried to the door. The same badge that opened the gate also worked on the front door (actually her badge opened every door). By the door was a small white sign with BB’s Nursery and Daycare in bright pink block letters. The lobby was nicely decorated with a couple of marble benches and overhead skylights. There was no receptionist or station for one. There were three doors from which to choose from. The door to the left read “Security” and the double glass doors to the front read “Nurseries and Daycare”. Edna turned the right and opened the door marked “Head Mistress and Administration”. She walked to the end of the hall and entered her office. There were more than enough offices. Once she stepped away all they did was move the name plates around. When her computer came up she set to work. She notified security that there was an 11am pickup and gave Tommy’s name and address. She notified support staff that around noon there was an incoming baby, Tammi Lee, and that she needed body hair removal, hair styling, eye brow cleanup, pedicure, manicure, body measurements and the rest of the typical in processing preparation. Her bath would wait as it was her new Nanny’s job to handle that. Next was to choose a Nanny. She opened up the duty roster and checked to see which Nannies were available. She scanned the list and saw that there were 5 unassigned to a client. Once assigned to Tammi Lee she would be her full time Nanny for the next three weeks as well as part time throughout the rest of the summer. She wanted someone special for Tammi. She wanted this summer to be something he would look back on with fondness and not anger and regret. She looked at their ages and backgrounds but began to smile once she started to read Veronica’s file. Veronica Collins was 6’5” and was well proportioned with large breasts and wide hips. She had long black hair and beautiful green eyes. She was 19 years old and was working on her second year with BB’s. Tall beautiful women were always the goal here at BB’s when hiring a Nanny. This would be her fourth time as a Nanny for a 3 week program baby. But what sealed the deal was that they both graduated from the same high school. This was almost like fate she said to herself with a loud laugh. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Veronica was still sleeping when the alarm in her apartment off. When not signed out all Nannies were technically on call. While being called on the weekend was rare it was not unheard of. The alarm was a simple loud bell that rang three times. With a grumble she got out bed, settled her disheveled night gown back into place and looked at the alarm screen. What she saw woke her the rest of the way up. “Report to Owners Office Immediately. Uniform not required”. This was not what she expected. Normally she would have time to get dressed or wash her face or even brush her teeth. She did not hesitate or question. She grabbed her robe, put on her slippers and only remembered to grab her key card at the last second. This is what they paid her for. She made excellent money and had a free place to live. Most importantly they gave her a job with no experience or formal education. If Mrs. Nelson wanted her show immediately then by God she would. In less than 5 minutes Mrs. Nelson heard a knock on her office door. She smiled. Veronica made excellent time. “Please come in Miss Collins” she said with a slightly raised voice. The office doors were thick and she made sure she was heard. Veronica opened the door and stepped into the office. She curtsied and said “You wanted to see me Mrs. Nelson?” It was only after speaking that she realized what she did. Her face flushed a pretty pink with embarrassment as Mrs. Nelson laughed. “You do not need to curtsy to me Veronica” her laugh becoming a giggle. With her own giggle Veronica said “I spent all day yesterday teaching a bunch of Princesses how to curtsy, parade wave and swoon. I guess it stuck.” Taking in Veronica’s state of undress Mrs. Nelson said “Sorry child, I should have realized that you would still be asleep. Please sit down and let me ask you a few questions and then you can go back to bed if you wish.” Veronica took the offered seat and sat down with a delicacy that you would not think possible from such a tall women. “Thank You” she said as she placed her hands in her lap and waited. “I would like to assign you a new baby for the next three weeks but she is a special case and I want to know if you want to do it.” Mrs. Nelson said. This was an odd way to phrase it thought Veronica. The three week program was usually for young men in trouble with the law. She does not usually get any say in the babies and littles she is assigned to take care of. Before she could say anything Mrs. Nelson raised a finger and said “Do you know a Tommy Wilder? He would have been a year or so behind you in high school.” Veronica’s heart nearly stopped. “Tommy got in trouble with the law? He was always such a straight arrow. He was such a nice guy” she spouted but then her mind started racing ahead. Her face flushed red. She needed to get control of her emotions. Right Now! If she continued to imagine putting his cute naked little butt into a diaper she was going to have a very embarrassing moment in front of Mrs. Nelson. Oh my god!, this is even better than I hoped. This is one turned on young women thought Mrs. Nelson. She was not surprised though, there was something about young men in baby girl clothes that also got her motor running as well. “So I take it you do know Tommy?” asked an amused Mrs. Nelson. “Yes Ma’am. He tutored me in math in both Trigonometry and Intro to Calculus. I got to know him very well.” She said with her voice now taking on a more somber note. “You spent a lot of time together, did you ever go out on any dates?” asked Mrs. Nelson sensing that there was some underlining issue. “He never asked me out and I was too shy to ask him out. When you’re as tall as me in high school you get picked on a lot and made fun of. You get very leery of putting yourself out there. I spent my last semester hoping he would ask me to the big dance but he never did, I ended up going with Brad Stevens who asked me about a week before the dance. We had fun be did not click. Brad was Tommy’s best friend but when I asked Brad if Tommy was coming to the dance he said that Tommy was an idiot and was not coming” Veronica answered with her eyes downcast. “After the dance I was mad at Tommy for not asking me out. I got a different tutor and ignored Tommy when he tried to talk to me in school. The school ended and everything seemed to move on.” Mrs. Nelson frowned a little. Maybe this was not going to go the way she hoped. “Does that mean you don’t want to be Tommy’s Nanny?” she asked carefully. Veronica took a few minutes to gather her thoughts. “I would love to be his Nanny. But if he hates me it would make our time together unbearable. I don’t want to hurt him.” Mrs. Nelson sat back a little thinking. Like most things this would need a little work. “Ok, here’s what I will do. During the intake interview I will arrange to have some questions asked about past relationships. Boys are gullible, once we say we have an extensive file on them you can ask them anything and they will not question how you know. If needed we can bring up your tutoring sessions.” Veronica laughed at this and then had a quick thought. “You can ask him what happened to Barry Stills. He was always coming by my locker and saying cruel things to me. Then he stopped coming by. I always suspected Tommy had something to do with it but then Tommy never said anything and two week later his friend asked me to the dance. Something went one but I was too hurt to look too deeply.” Mrs. Nelson said “I will add it to the interview questions. I will get with you later this afternoon. For now I’m going to put you down as his new Nanny and we can make a final decision after I meet with you later.” Mrs. Nelson sat back a bit and considered some more. “Normally we would not talk about any of the incidents leading to a subject being sent here by the court system but I want to reassure you that there was no big change in Tommy. Tommy had some alcohol last night and ended up crashing his Mom’s car into my rose bushes and car. I suspect it has something to do with his friend going off to the air force today but he was not very clear last night. Before you ask he is fine. Just a small cut on his forehead. You may not know it but Tommy got a full ride scholarship with Stanford. The Judge sent him to us so she could eventually drop the charges and not mess it up. He was naive and stupid last night but not bad.” explained Mrs. Nelson. Veronica burst with excitement “He got the full ride? That is so awesome! He was working his butt off last year to get the grades and the extracurricular activities he needed.” Her enthusiasm damped a bit as she added “It was probably his first time drinking the little idiot. Still way better then I feared”. Mrs. Nelson nodded “A bad decision but not a bad boy. I will get back to you this afternoon.” Recognizing a dismissal when she heard one Veronica stood up and said “Thank you for your patience Mrs. Nelson” and scooted out of the office. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Veronica headed back to her room thinking about Tommy. She really had a crush on him in high school. The thought of him being her baby girl made her quicken her step. By the time she reached her room the thought of powdering his little butt had her breathing very hard. She flung herself into her bed and slipped her fingers into her panties. Her very wet panties. She imagined pinning the diaper closed and giving a gentle rub on what she was sure was a very hard…..the orgasm that swept through arched her back and she did not even try to quite her moans or the loud “Oh my gods” that burst from her lips. She was slowly coming down from the peaks of her orgasm, her breasts still heaving. Her heavy milk filled breasts. She had signed up to be a wet nurse because the extra money would go a long way to her future car. The drugs that they had given her had started her lactating about two weeks ago and she was pumping her breasts four times a day. No actual breast feeding was required. Clients that paid the premium were given the milk in bottles or frozen pouches to take home. She slipped her hand out of her panties and cupped her breasts. In her mind’s eye she saw Tommy taking her nipple into his mouth, his hand lightly laid across her breast, when he began to suckle she came, and came. This orgasm was even better than the last and her hands never left her breasts. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Mrs. Nelson went back to her computer and made a few notes for the interviewer. Next she printed out the standard non-disclosure forms required from all guests and clients. She added the appropriate dates and descriptions of Tammi Lee’s expected time at BB’s for the summer. Two week infant program, one week toddler program, 8 week big girl helper (age appropriate to required tasks). During the toddler time and the big girl helper time week nights (Sunday - Thursday) are to be spent in the nursery and weekends (Friday night through Sunday evening) to be spent with Mrs. Nelson. When she finished she printed out the forms and marked all the places signatures were required. When the legal work from the judge arrived she would have a large packet of papers to go over with April. Tommy would only have to sign the non-disclosure forms. The Judge had placed Tommy into his mother’s custody and only her signature was required for the judicial forms. She gathered up the papers and stepped out of the office and saw that Becky Thomas was making coffee in the breakroom. Becky was one of the secretarial staff who was tasked with being here on the weekend. “Good Morning Mrs. Nelson, I did not know you would be in today. The coffee will be done soon. Is there anything I can do for you?” Becky said with the youthful cheeriness of a true morning person. “Good Morning dear. We have a new baby arriving for in processing today at Noon. Scared mommy will be at 9:00am. Go ahead and set up the small conference room. You know the drill coffee, muffins, tissues, the usual. Let me know when the court order arrives. When the Headmistress arrives let me know. I would like to say hi to Tina.” Mrs. Nelson said with a shoulder pat. “Here you can place these forms in the conference room. We will need you to notarize and copy them later after they are signed.” She added handing Becky the pile of paperwork. “Yes, Mrs. Nelson I will take of it.” Becky said and took the papers from her. Mrs. Nelson went to her office and arranged for the auto repair shop to collect her car for repair and finished some other pending BB’s business. Glancing at the clock she noted that she still had another 30 minutes before Rose arrived with Tina. Normally Rose did not work the weekends but a new baby was something she needed (and wanted!) to be there for. With a bit of free time she went a special website that sold little girls clothes for big boys. BB’s bought a lot of clothes from them over the years. She searched for gardening clothes. This was not something they normally bought. Her little daycare girls were princesses, dancers, play professionals and wore many other type of girly gurls dresses. She was not sure if they had anything. “Oh, perfect” she whispered as she found several dresses that looked straight out of “Little House on the Prairie”. The gingham dresses came with white frilly aprons and matching bonnets. Tammi Lee would be adorable. Her heart fluttered a bit at the picture of Tammi Lee in her dress kneeling in the garden and planting daisies. Her pretty face surrounded by flowers. She picked out three dresses for her granddaughter. Pink, lilac and butter yellow. She also added a pair of pink rubber boots. So cute she thought. I may invite the gardening club for tea. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Rose arrived at the BB’s just before 8am. She parked in the “Head Mistress” spot and noted Edna’s old car was parked next to her. Taking her keys and purse with her she got out of the front seat and opened the rear door. Reaching in she unbuckled the oversized car seats built in restraints. At 5’5” Tina was not required by law to have the seat but she was much more comfortable in it and felt safe and secure when riding in mommies car. When Rose agreed to take on the responsibility for Tina many years ago she decided she needed more than a Nanny and baby relationship. She would be mommy and Tina her daughter. Tina was her adopted daughter both legally and in her heart. Rose helped Tina out of the car. Tina was wearing her pink t-shirt with the sparkly “I heart Mommy” on the front. She had a black pleated skirt with several pink butterflies on it. The skirt barely covered her diapered butt. If she bent over you were treated the sight of a rows of white and pink ruffles from the rumba baby panty diaper cover. She had white knee high stockings and pink Nike tennis shoes. She smiled at her mommy. Her smile was beautiful. Her pigtails were tied off with her favorite pink bows with the black butterflies that match her skirt. Unlike Janice, Tina was never able to build a Chris coat. Tina refused to try. While at BB’s daycare Tina would be content to be a three year old with a limited vocabulary and the ability to use the pottie chair for poopies. Once she got home she was content to be an infant and spend her time playing with her toys on a blanket in the living room until it was time to sleep in her oversized crib. They held hands and were soon in the lobby. “Auntie, Auntie” Tina yelled and flung herself into Edna’s open arms. Edna smiled and hugged the girl tightly. “How is my beautiful, wonderful, super special niece today?” she said with a happy voice. Planting several kisses on the girl’s forehead and cheeks. “Auntie, play!” she said jumping up and down and clapping her hands. Edna turned to Rose. “Let me take Tina in and get her all set up and I will see you in the conference room.” Rose smiled. “Auntie” would take some time to play with her niece. If she had to guess they would soon be playing with the large collection of dolls and doll clothes that was in the daycare. She kissed her daughter on the cheek and said “Be good dear, I will see you at lunch time”. “K mommie” Tina said happily as Auntie took her hand and led her through the double doors. Rose waited a few minutes and then followed them. She stopped outside the daycare and watched as Auntie and niece sat together at a low table and started to diaper a pair of dolls. Tina was giggling at whatever Edna was whispering to her. She looked up as Marge approached. Nanny Marge was on daycare duty this morning. “Good morning Head Mistress” Marge said respectfully. Marge was dressed in the standard BB’s nanny uniform. A simple grey maids dress with pearl buttons and lace accents on the cuffs and collar. She also wore a full apron in white. At her shoulder was an embroidered pink “BB’s” and below that her name also embroidered in pink. She wore her hair in a tight bun and could project a stern face when needed. They stood together and watched the play for a few minutes. “In 15 minutes give Mrs. Nelson a reminder that she has an upcoming meeting” Rose said with a laugh. “Yes Ma’am” Marge said with a giggle as she watched Mrs. Nelson pretend the dolly had a stinky diaper. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Across town the Wilder household was waking up. As usual on Sunday James was up first. He showered and dressed quickly and headed to the kitchen. Saturday’s were unscheduled. Get up when you feel like it, eat what you want. But Sunday was family breakfast. James did not remember much from before he became Janice. He had read the file of course so he knew his past but it was distant and did not seem worth remembering anyway. This was his family and he instituted Sunday family breakfast and family dinner after Tommy started having weekend ball practices and swim lessons. James started cooking but his anxiety was starting to rise a little knowing that Tommy was going to be picked up later today. It was reflected in the food. Chocolate chip pancakes. Janice loved them. Especially with whipped cream smiley faces. James cooked a dozen pancakes and had them ready to be served when Tommy slunk into the kitchen. Tommy knew he was in trouble for last night. He could feel the weight of it pressing down on him. He did not know how much trouble it was but he knew it was big. Before he could sit down his father pulled him into a hug and kissed his forehead. This was a part of his dad that Tommy loved. When other dads started pulling away from their sons and stopped the casual affection his dad didn’t. To Tommy this was a sign of a real man, a true father. He does not feel the need to hide from his emotions or with hold affection. His dad was the first to cry during a sad movie and the first to laugh. Dad was not the family’s disciplinarian. There was no wait to your father gets home. Mom had no problem handing out on the spot spankings when he was little, corner timeouts and groundings. Dad’s discipline was worse. He would show that disappointed look. The failure to live up his dad’s expectations was more hurtful then any spanking or grounding. His dad stepped back from the hug and pointed at the kitchen chair and said “Sit”. Tommy sat down. He did not need to see the look. He could hear the disappointment in his dad’s voice. A single word. Tommy felt a tear work done his cheek. A moment later and his mom swept into the kitchen. She bent down and used her thumb to brush the tear away. She kissed his cheek and said “It will be ok, baby”. Only James knew how very accurate that description would turn out to be. She sat down as James began to prepare plates and pour orange juice. She watched as James used the can of whipped cream and made a happy face for her pancakes and set them in front of her. Then Tommy’s and then his. Once James sat down she said “Eat first and talk after”. The pancakes were silly and seemed to help everyone relax as James pretended his pancake did not appreciate being eaten. After the pancakes were demolished and juice drank James got up and cleared the dishes from the table. Normally April and Tommy would wash them as the house rule was if you cooked you got out of dish duty. When James sat back down April took charge of the questioning. “What happened last night? Where were you and why were you drinking?” She said in a business like tone. She wanted to yell, she wanted to be angry but she held it in check. For now anyway. Tommy looked at the table, he could not meet his mom’s eyes let alone his dad’s. “After graduation I got together with Brad and we hopped around from party to party. Brad leaves today for the Air Force and wanted to say goodbye to as many friends as possible. We ended up at Brad’s house. I helped him pack a few things.” Tommy stopped for bit. This was embarrassing. Very embarrassing. His mom was not going to let him stop. Indeed she said “When did you start drinking?” Tommy figured he might as well say it all. Brad was never ashamed of it and neither was Tommy but Brad’s father was not understanding and would never would be. But Brad was on a plane by now and his dad’s small minded attitudes were not an issue anymore. Tommy looked up into his Mom’s face and said “We never told anyone but Brad is gay. His father is very homophobic and Brad decided long ago to keep that part of himself secret until he was on his own.” He watched his Mom’s eyes widen a bit. James did not say anything but he already knew. Janice was very good at picking up emotions. She knew Brad had had a crush on Tommy. She also knew that Tommy was not interested in boys. Tommy was a good friend and never let that crush interfere with their friendship. “We have been friends forever. We talked about sex and our orientation many times. I know Brad wished for more out of our friendship but I never saw him as a romantic partner.” Tommy explained. His mom jumped in quickly “Tommy you don’t have to tell us these things. We don’t need to know about Brad and your relationship. We have total trust in you and just want you to be happy.” Tommy sighed this was so so awkward. Not as bad as his talk with his dad about sex but right up there. “This is about the drinking mom. Neither of us have been daters. We have both been holding back for various reasons.” He blushed a dark red as he continued. “We decided that we couldn’t go on to our separate paths without kissing someone in high school. He never got to kiss me and I never got to kiss the girl I wanted. At least he would get his kiss. We agreed to a kiss, a real kiss. Like the movies. It was scary and exciting.” Tommy covered his eyes with his hands. “I was so nervous that when Brad suggested a shot of tequila I jumped at it. A toast we said. To our futures. I had more than one.” Tommy took the chance and looked up at this father. Fearing the look of disgust and scorn. He just admitted to agreeing to kiss a boy. Tommy shed another tear at his father’s look. It was not angry or disgusted. It was love and compassion. Those eyes urged him to continue. Tommy continued eyes never leaving his father “When I felt the nerves leave I told him I was ready and he kissed me. It..It…was wonderful but Brad was not the one I wish I was kissing.” The kiss was long and sweet. Brad put in all the passion he had bottled up inside. His tongue explored my mouth and caressed mine. He even bent me backwards as he held me tight. Tommy thought in his mind. These thoughts were not for sharing with parents. Tommy looked over to see his mother carefully neutral expression. “After the kiss we talked and Brad was able to fully let go of his feelings for me. He told me he finally kissed his first crush and for me to go find mine.” “We chatted about the Airforce and Stanford until it was time to go. I did not even realize I was drunk. I’ve never drank any alcohol before. I should have known better.” Tommy said finally” His dad spoke up next “What caused you to crash your mother’s car?” Tommy thought back a moment it was hard to remember. “A cat..there was a cat in the road. I swerved around it and then Mrs. Nelson was asking me if I was ok.” Janice had enough she needed to hold him and opened her arms in invitation. Tommy jumped up from the chair flung himself at his father. His father stroked his hair and held him. His mom also joined the group hug. It was comforting but short lived as they parted and it was moms turn to say “Sit” and point at a chair. Once they were sitting again April took her sons hands into her own and asked “Do you remember failing the breath test?” “I was sitting in the back of the ambulance. The police officer asking me if I had been drinking. I told him a little. He had me blow into something. He told me I was just over the legal limit. Next thing I knew your hugging me to death.” Tommy replied his body shaking a little. “What does it mean to be over the legal limit?” April hated to tell him. He was going to freak out at first. ”It means that they could have charged you with a DUI. That plus your accident could have added a charge for reckless driving and destruction of private property”. She was right Tommy freaked out. “My scholarship, my scholarship has a clause in it making it void if there is any criminal charges. What am I going to do?” He stuttered working himself up to a full blown panic. April grabbed her sons chin and said “Look at me, look at me! Calm down, you did not listen to me. I said they could have charged you. They are going to drop the charges against you.” That got Tommy‘s attention “Why, why would they drop them. I don’t understand.” “Mrs. Nelson arranged an alternative arrangement. She called a judge she knows and set it up that you do some sort of community service at her day care that she is part owner of. You will get paid while working and you will pay off the damages you caused. It will take all summer but you will still keep your scholarship and will head off to school on time.” April explained as best she could. She gave him another hug and got up. “I have to go down town and arrange the paperwork this morning. Your dad can explain more. After you wash the dishes.” She got up hugged and kissed her husband and grabbed her keys and the business card. “I will see you both later this afternoon.” She said heading to the door. Still not realizing how Tommy’s time will spent at the daycare. Tommy’s head was spinning. He did not care about working all summer. He thought he would be willing to do anything to keep his scholarship. His dad’s voice was soft as it said “Wash up the dishes and meet me in the living room. We need to talk” Twenty minutes later the two of them were sitting in the living room. Tommy was pensive not sure what this talk was about. The drinking, the kiss with brad, the car crash or all of them. James was not sure how much to tell his son. His experience was far different than what Tommy faced. He knew that because Nanny told him so. He never went back there, he missed Tina but knew his presence was confusing for her. So while he knew it was different he had hidden fears that it was not. They stared at each other for another moment before James said “I’m going to tell you something. I never told this to your mother either and I would appreciate that you kept it to yourself.” Tommy was spellbound and only nodded. Wow secrets with his dad. Cool! “I was not a very nice guy in high school. I was always fighting and getting to trouble. My best friend Chris and I hated the world. I was an unloved foster kid and Chris’s dad used to beat him. We got arrested a few times for shop lifting but we were still underage and never really got punished for it.” Tommy’s jaw dropped open this was shocking. His Dad was kind and loving not some kind of thug. James continued “We both somehow graduated high school but obviously learned nothing. Two weeks after graduating we stole a car. Just to drive around for fun. But Chris panicked when he saw the police behind us and ended up crashing the car into a parked and thankfully empty school bus.” Janice knew these things from the file but had no memory of the events. “Only now we were both 18 and considered adults. We were both looking at jail time.” He paused and looked at Tommy “Shocked?” Tommy was shocked and said so “Dad, I can’t believe you were like that. It does not make sense.” James shrugged “We were dumb broken kids. I’m not the person I was back then. Not even close” to herself she added “what an understatement”. “We were sitting in county lockup, scared and alone. Nobody to call or care we were there. Before we could go to a trial we were offered an alternative. Community service at what would eventually be called BB’s. If we completed the service we would be free to go with no charges. Sound familiar?” “Wow dad! That’s crazy. It is still hard to believe you were a hardened criminal” He said with a laugh. “I guess the community service option set you back on the right path.” “Never even thought about my old ways again” James said with a long sigh. “The point is I was where you are now. We both did wrong. We both have an opportunity to pay for it without going to jail or losing out scholastic futures.” “I am happy to do what it takes to keep my scholarship Dad. I mean it. I screwed up and I’m willing to pay for my mistake.” “Good. That attitude will help you. You will be earning money and paying Mrs. Nelson back but they put you through an intense introductory program to start. I can’t tell you about it. The program has government backers and those that go through it or know about are required to sign non-disclosure agreements. But that’s not why I won’t tell you. It will be easier if you don’t know before you get there.” Tommy looked confused for a bit “You can’t tell me anything?” “Nope. But I can give you some words of advice. First remember why you are there and what is waiting for you when it is over. Second others have gone before and others will eventually follow you. And finally the most important thing to remember.” James paused for bit and finished with “You can’t die from embarrassment. You may want to but like all things it will pass.” “What do you mean by embarrassment? Why would you say that?” Tommy pressed but only got silence in return. “The van will be here to pick you up at 11am. You can’t take anything with you so don’t worry about packing. They will provide everything you need.” James said getting up and leaving Tommy to his thoughts and sudden fears. At precisely 11am there was a knock at the door. A quick hug from his dad and soon enough Tommy found himself alone in the back of a van heading somewhere. He was sacred and alone but he realized he did have people who cared and loved him unlike when his dad did this. (This is Chapter 2. I hope to have many parts as we follow Tommy’s summer of fun. Next chapter April learns some history, Janice’s control of her James coat is slipping, and Tommy finds out if you really can die of embarrassment. This is my first story and I appreciate any feedback (CCApril@Proton.me).

Hi all, I want to try to write a story and ask you to evaluate it, unfortunately I am not a native English speaker and this may affect the quality of the story. Well, the story will be more about emotions and you won't find any violent scenes in it. Also please let me know if my English is too bad I'm also publishing this story on Watpad. Let's begin. Alex sat in the back seat of the taxi, feeling tired and skeptical about his upcoming vacation. It seemed he had already seen everything the hotel industry could offer and did not expect his anticipation to be surpassed. He flipped through the pages of the "Fairy Tale" hotel brochure, feeling that the photos were dull and monotonous. "Where are we headed?" the driver asked, not noticing that Alex was examining the brochure. "To the 'Fairy Tale Hotel.' Do you know where that is?" Alex replied. "Of course, I do. It's a lovely hotel where you can relax and enjoy the beauty of the surroundings. Are you on vacation there?" the driver inquired. "Yes," Alex responded skeptically. "Great, that's a good choice. I've heard that this hotel has some unique services and programs that guests may enjoy. You can learn more about them when you check in," the driver added. "Yeah, I've heard something about that," Alex replied without much enthusiasm or desire to continue the conversation. The hotel brochure was a bright and colorful booklet, featuring images of various room interiors on its pages. Each page showcased cozy rooms decorated in different styles. The first page showed a Provence-style room where a wooden bed with a richly colored white rug was adorned with floral pillows. The second page described a classic-style room with dark-colored wooden furniture and velvet pillows. The third page featured a modern-style room with minimalist black-and-white furniture harmoniously combined with colorful rugs and bright paintings on the walls. The fourth page introduced an Art Deco-style room with a luxurious bed boasting a tall headboard and lush curtains as the centerpiece. "Looks like a great hotel, doesn't it?" the driver remarked. "Yeah, I guess," Alex replied, continuing to study the brochure. "Well, cheer up, my friend, you're on vacation! Maybe you'll be pleasantly surprised. Who knows what can happen when you find yourself in a place that exceeds your expectations," the driver noted, and Alex felt a slight improvement in his mood. "Yes, maybe," Alex agreed, but the feeling of indifference towards what was happening returned to him. Alex continued to examine the brochure with its polished, diverse interiors, until his gaze fell upon a photo that featured an ordinary, at first glance, detail – a baby crib had been set up in one of the hotel rooms. Alex was puzzled because one of the hotel's conditions stated that guests could only stay without children, allowing for a complete relaxation in an atmosphere of peace and quiet, which isn't always possible with children running around the floors and lobby. For some inexplicable reason, Alex couldn't take his eyes off the photo with the baby crib. His memories delved back into the time when he was carefree and happy. He recalled his toys, his first bike, the first time his mother took him to kindergarten, and how she pitied him when the neighbor's dog scared him. He remembered how he was always surrounded by loving and caring parents, how they spent time together, played together, and learned together. Alex remembered how loved he was and how he trusted his parents, and how they always made time for him and his interests. But something happened on the way to adulthood. Alex gradually stopped finding pleasure in what he loved to do, he ceased to delight in the little things, and he stopped finding meaning in life. His life became gray and boring, and he didn't know how to reclaim the joy he felt in his childhood. "What happened to me? How did I become who I am now? How did I lose my childlike joy?" Alex thought as he looked at the photo. "Anyway, what's the difference, it happens to everyone," Alex told himself, resolutely putting the brochure on the adjacent seat and trying to rid himself of the now tiresome, albeit warm, memories. He didn't notice the taxi stopping at the hotel entrance. His thoughts were still preoccupied with childhood memories. Alex slowly got out of the taxi and approached the reception desk, where a friendly clerk greeted him. "Welcome to the 'Fairy Tale Hotel'! I hope your stay with us will be enjoyable and comfortable," the clerk greeted. "Thank you," Alex replied with a perfunctory phrase, continuing to ponder how to regain his lost joy and enjoy life again. Alex took the elevator to the top floor of the hotel, where the luxury suites were located. When the elevator doors opened, he found himself in front of a massive wooden door with golden handles and panels. Above the door hung a crystal chandelier that emitted bright light, creating a sense of luxury and refinement. Alex opened the door and entered the room. Inside, a pleasant atmosphere was created by pastel shades and a harmonious combination of furniture. The room was spacious, with high ceilings and large windows offering a beautiful view of the mountains. The bed was huge and comfortable, upholstered in soft white fabric, and paintings of nature and cityscapes adorned the walls. Alex walked around the room and noticed all the amenities necessary for a comfortable stay: a minibar, bathrobes and slippers, a TV, an air conditioner, and a small table with cups for tea and coffee. "Well, it seems they really care about their guests," thought Alex, feeling his skepticism giving way to satisfaction. Meanwhile, his eyes fell on a questionnaire left on the table. He began to fill it out but suddenly noticed a strange question: "What is your most precious childhood memory?" Alex looked at the question, realizing it was unusual for such a form. "No one needs this… not even me," he thought to himself and put a dash. An hour later, Alex decided it was time to start exploring the hotel. Grabbing the filled-out questionnaire, he headed for the door. He was skeptical about the prospect of relaxing at this hotel but was still curious and wanted to learn more about the place where he would spend the next couple of weeks. Approaching the reception desk, Alex noticed the friendly clerk, who quickly paid attention to him and politely asked how he could help. "Why was there such a strange question about childhood in the questionnaire?" Alex inquired. "That question helps us personalize the service for each guest. We try to learn as much as possible about our guests to ensure their stay with us is as comfortable and enjoyable as possible," the clerk explained. "I see," Alex agreed, but his skepticism didn't fade. As he strolled through the hotel, he noticed that he rarely saw other guests. Instead, he constantly encountered hotel staff who quickly helped him find the right place or answered his questions. This seemed strange to him, especially considering the size of the hotel. However, when he asked the clerk at the reception desk about this, the latter explained that it was currently the off-season, and during busier times, the hotel was filled with guests from all over the world. Alex nodded in understanding but still felt a little bewildered. He continued his walk, carefully examining the hotel's interiors and details, trying to figure out what made this place so special, as described in the promotional brochure. Despite his skepticism, Alex couldn't help but notice his mood improving due to the surrounding atmosphere of tranquility and peace. Stepping out into the hotel's inner courtyard, he enjoyed the variety of greenery and flowers when he suddenly noticed a little girl playing in the grass with a teddy bear in her arms. Remembering that this hotel didn't accept children, he couldn't help but be surprised by the child's presence. Perhaps she was the daughter of one of the staff members. Sitting down on a bench, he closed his eyes to enjoy the calmness when he heard a child's voice nearby. Opening his eyes, Alex saw the girl who smiled and addressed him: "Hi," she said. "Hi, what's your name?" Alex asked. "My name is Elizabeth, and yours?" the girl replied. "My name is Alex. Where are your parents?" he inquired, trying to find out who she was. "My mom works at the hotel, and my dad is away on a business trip," the girl answered. Alex smiled but still felt a bit awkward, as he rarely interacted with people younger than himself, let alone children. "Shouldn't you be busy with something else, Elizabeth?" he asked. "No, I'm free. Do you want to play with me?" she inquired, holding out the bear. Alex smiled and agreed. They began playing tea party, where he was a clumsy bear, and Elizabeth was a caring hostess. Alex noticed that the girl was smarter than he could have guessed. She asked him questions about his travels, his favorite books, and movies. Despite her young age, her curiosity and zest for life amazed Alex. "Do you travel a lot, Alex?" Elizabeth asked, pouring him tea from a toy teapot. "Yes, I love to travel and learn new things about different places," he replied, smiling. "I love traveling too," said Elizabeth, smiling back at him. Alex examined her gaze, which was so lively and clear, and suddenly realized that he had never met a child so interested in the world around her. He pondered what was so special about this place that made people feel this way. "Do you have a sister or brother?" Alex asked, trying to learn more about her family. "I have a mom, dad, and a little brother. They all love me," Elizabeth replied with a smile. Alex smiled back, feeling his heart fill with warmth and kindness. Eventually, Elizabeth ran off, and he was left sitting on the bench, feeling a bit bewildered but at the same time - happy. Alex sat on the bench in the hotel's inner courtyard, lost in his thoughts. It was so quiet and peaceful around him that it seemed as if time had stopped here. "Excuse me, sir, may I offer you something? Perhaps a cup of tea?" a voice came from behind. Alex turned and saw a smiling waiter with a tray on which stood a cup of hot tea and a plate of crackers. "Thank you, I wouldn't refuse," Alex replied, smiling back. The waiter approached and placed the tray on the bench. "It's complimentary for all our guests," he said, pointing to the cup and crackers. Alex thanked him and started drinking the tea, feeling the warmth spreading throughout his body. "They take care of their guests here," he thought and smiled. After some time, Alex returned to his room. Upon entering, he noticed that the room had been tidied up, and everything looked even neater and cozier. On the table by the entrance to the room stood a telephone for internal communication. "Good evening, sir. How may I help you?" the operator's voice came from the other end of the line. "Good evening, I'd like to place an order. Can I ask you to prepare an English breakfast?" asked Alex. "Of course, sir. What time would you like it served?" the operator replied. "At 9 am, please." "Thank you, sir. We will arrange everything for you. Have a good evening," the operator reported on the other end of the line and hung up. Alex looked at the clock and noticed that it was already late. He felt fatigue starting to wash over him, but at the same time, he sensed that his thoughts were still occupied with reflections on his life. Not knowing how to cope with this negative mood, he lay down on the bed and closed his eyes. Images from his past flickered through his mind: a job that was becoming increasingly tiring, a love that ended in failure, and the feeling that his life had come to a standstill. Alex felt all of this was dragging him down, and he didn't know how to get out of this situation. Finally, fatigue and negativity gave way to tranquility. His thoughts subsided, and he fell into a deep sleep. In the morning, Alex woke up feeling light and refreshed. Glancing at the clock, he saw that he had slept more than usual, but it didn't spoil his mood. He got into the shower and stood there, enjoying the sensation of water cascading down his body. Suddenly, an old childhood song came to mind, and he began to hum it out loud, not realizing he was doing so. "What's happening to me?" Alex thought, looking around to make sure no one was watching him. "It's probably just the aftermath of yesterday's encounter with Elizabeth," he thought to himself. Soon, his breakfast was brought to him, but instead of the usual English breakfast, a bowl of semolina porridge with strawberry jam and a glass of hot cocoa were on the cart in front of him. "What is this?" Alex asked, surprised. "Unfortunately, today it was not possible to prepare an English breakfast due to supply issues. We apologize for the inconvenience and offer you our children's breakfast to enjoy. Unfortunately, we cannot offer any other alternatives," the waitress explained, smiling apologetically. Alex was a little disappointed, but as soon as the first spoonful of porridge was in his mouth, the disappointment faded. The porridge was delicious, and the rich cocoa filled him with warmth. "I must have been living under stress for too long if semolina porridge is a pleasant event for me," Alex thought as he finished his breakfast. Feeling more energetic and full, he decided to continue exploring the hotel. Alex descended the elegant staircase and found himself in the spacious hotel lobby. The tireless porter standing behind the reception desk smiled at him and asked how his night had been. "Good morning, thank you, everything was fine. Can you tell me something interesting about your hotel?" Alex replied with a smile on his face, filled with the desire to learn more about this place. "Of course, sir. Our hotel was built in 1920 and has been renowned for its comfort and service for many years. We take care of every guest and do our best to make you feel at home," the porter said proudly. Alex nodded, but his gaze had already caught something else. On the floor, by the counter, lay a backpack, just like the one he used in college. A patch with the emblem of his favorite basketball team was sewn in the same place. Something stirred inside Alex. "What's this backpack?" he asked the porter, pointing to the item. "Oh, it's the backpack of one of our guests. He's leaving today and might have temporarily left it here," the hotel employee replied. Alex couldn't believe his eyes. He felt a strong sense of déjà vu, as if he were in the past. His hand reached for the backpack, but at that moment he heard a familiar voice behind him: "Hi, Alex!" Elizabeth exclaimed, waving her hand. Alex turned around. He smiled, happily greeting her. "Do you want to play with me?" Elizabeth looked intently at Alex, the glow in her eyes reflecting her desire to spend time together. "Of course, I'd love to! What do we have planned?" Alex replied, feeling excitement filling his chest. "Let's ride scooters!" the girl suggested, handing him a pink scooter. "I don't have my own scooter; I won't be able to ride," Alex shrugged but examined Elizabeth's toy with curiosity. "Don't worry, I'll give you my dad's scooter. He's on a business trip right now," Elizabeth smiled, pointing to a blue scooter leaning against the wall. "Thank you, Elizabeth, that's great!" Alex approached the scooter and noticed that it looked just like the one he had ridden in his childhood. Even the broken reflector was wrapped in the same yellow tape. Of course, back then, the scooter was too big for him, but now it fit perfectly. "What's wrong, Alex? Don't you like something?" Elizabeth looked at him curiously. "No, everything is perfect; I'm just amazed at how similar this scooter is to my childhood one!" Alex replied, not taking his eyes off the scooter and trying to contain his excitement. "That's great! You can ride it as much as you want until my dad comes back," Elizabeth smiled, giving him the green light. Alex turned to Elizabeth and smiled, "I need to change into something more comfortable and suitable for a scooter. But I'll be back soon, I promise!" "Of course, Alex! I'll do a few laps in the meantime," Elizabeth replied. Alex quickly walked through the lobby and headed to his room. He was surprised that someone in such a remote place as the "Fairytale" hotel could have a backpack just like his. His heart skipped a beat with excitement as he remembered his college years and the friends who remained in the past. Entering the room, Alex began to change quickly. Suddenly, he noticed an envelope that had fallen out of his jacket. Alex sat on the bed, picked it up, and recognized the familiar handwriting - it was a letter from his old college friend, Edward. "Hey, old pal! It's been a while. How are you? I think you're already at the 'Fairytale' hotel. I heard from mutual acquaintances that you were planning to visit this place. If that's true, I highly recommend taking advantage of the extended relaxation program. It will allow you to fully immerse yourself in the atmosphere of this place and enjoy its uniqueness. You won't regret it! I hope to see you soon. Take care!" the letter read. Alex looked out the window and pondered. There were few details, but judging by Edward's words, the program could significantly improve his stay at this mysterious hotel. He decided that he would definitely inquire about it at the reception. Alex quickly changed into a comfortable T-shirt and shorts and left the room, holding Edward's letter in his hands. When he returned to the lobby, Elizabeth was already riding her scooter. "Just another minute," said Alex. Elizabeth nodded in agreement. Alex approached the reception desk and asked about the program mentioned in the letter. The porter tried to explain that it was a program based on his questionnaire and childhood memories, which would help him immerse himself in the hotel's atmosphere and experience an unforgettable vacation. However, Alex interrupted him, noticing that Elizabeth was waiting for him. "Let me sign up for participation, and we'll talk about this later," he said. The porter smiled and handed him a document to sign. "Excellent, we'll start everything immediately," he said when Alex returned the document to him. Alex and Elizabeth left the hotel and rode their scooters onto the street. They passed flower beds and a fountain, enjoying the fresh air and scenery. When they reached the main road, Elizabeth turned left, pointing to a beautiful park across the street. Alex followed her. They entered the park, and Alex felt the magical atmosphere of the place. The summer sun filtered through the leaves of the trees, creating playful rays that danced on the ground. Flower beds adorned with bright colors stretched out before them, making them feel like they were in a fairytale. Alex and Elizabeth rode their scooters along the winding paths of the park, stopping to feed the ducks. They tried to catch each other, laughed and ran like two carefree children. They played hide-and-seek, jumped over barriers, and inspired each other to try new tricks. It seemed to Alex that time had stopped, and he had returned to his childhood when no worries could spoil his mood. As they made their way back to the hotel from the park, Alex began to notice that his scooter was getting heavier, but he chalked it up to fatigue. Elizabeth, on the other hand, encouraged him, saying that they were almost back. Finally, as evening approached, they reached the "Fairytale" hotel. Alex and Elizabeth, laughing merrily, entered the hotel. Alex felt that everything around him had become louder, brighter, and more saturated. People and objects seemed incredibly large, as if he had entered another world. But the strangest thing was that he felt his body becoming lighter and softer. Walking through the lobby, he glanced at a mirror and froze in horror. A seven-year-old boy with brown eyes and tousled hair stared back at him from the mirror. The boy was wearing a superhero T-shirt and shorts, and his feet were clad in neat Velcro sneakers. Alex couldn't believe his eyes; he was sure he had just been a 35-year-old man. "Elizabeth, what happened to my clothes? Why do I look like a child?" he asked, looking fearfully at the girl. "It's okay, Alex. You've always looked like this," Elizabeth smiled. But Alex couldn't believe it. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and his heart was about to break in two. He knew that something strange was happening, and he couldn't stop the process. "Elizabeth, I don't understand what's happening," he whispered, struggling to hold back the lump in his throat. "Don't worry, Alex. Everything will be fine," Elizabeth cheerfully chirped and ran deeper into the hotel. Alex felt a mysterious force pulling him back to the distant years when he was still small and carefree, pulling insistently, without much regard for his opinions and desires. Alex wiped away his tears and headed to the porter, who smiled at him and asked what had happened. Alex replied with a sour expression that it was obvious. The porter nodded understandingly and began to explain. "This is our extended program that you ordered, sir. You agreed to undergo this program based on your questionnaire data and childhood memories to fully immerse yourself in the atmosphere of the 'Fairytale' hotel and have an unforgettable vacation," the porter explained. "So, this was all intentional?" Alex asked, feeling panic and resentment taking hold of him. "Yes, sir. You can stop it all now, but if you continue, you won't be able to leave until the program is complete," the porter replied. "I don't know what to do," Alex whispered, barely holding back a new wave of tears. "Let me remind you of the emotions you have already gained from staying at our hotel, sir. Do you really want to give them up?" the porter asked. Alex pondered. Indeed, he had experienced many vivid emotions, enjoyed nature, and had fun with Elizabeth. In the end, what did he have to lose? He thought for a long time before saying, "I will continue with the program." The porter smiled and handed him a document to sign. "Excellent, sir. You won't regret it," he said when Alex returned the document. Alex struggled to lift his head, feeling a mysterious force pulling him back to the distant years when he was still small and carefree. But despite his fear, he was ready to accept the challenge and explore the new world that was here at the "Fairytale" hotel. "What do I do now?" he asked. The porter gently placed his hand on Alex's shoulder and suggested he sit down and calm down. "Let me help you," he said, as if addressing a child. Alex slowly sank into the armchair, feeling it embrace his body with soft cushions. He wiped away his tears and asked the porter, "Can you tell me more about the program?" trying to stay calm. "I can only tell you what I am allowed. It is a truly unique adventure based on your personality," the porter replied. "But what will happen to me after the program ends?" Alex asked, feeling a new wave of tears welling up in his eyes. "You will return to the real world. But I am sure you will be satisfied with what you have experienced here," the porter replied, trying to reassure Alex. "And when will the program end?" Alex continued, trying to understand how much time he had left. "I cannot disclose all the details. But I assure you that you will be satisfied," the porter repeated, smiling at him. "Alright," Alex said, clenching his fists on his knees. He felt that he could not continue this conversation any longer; he simply had to trust and wait. "I need to step away and give some instructions. But I will return to make sure everything is alright, sir," the porter said, no longer addressing Alex as a child, but with deep respect. Alex remained seated in the armchair, examining his new appearance. He felt that a new stage of his life had begun, and he was ready for any adventure.

Well the hair color is off.

Welp wasn't on planning on telling my mom yet. I was one month restarting my untraining journey this time I'm going for full double incontinence. I did about a year for just urinary but I stopped cause it just wasn't enough for me. I need double or nothing. Well anyways, I needed a pamp break cause my rash was really severe, I knew switching to a different brand would solve the issue cause a part of why the rash was so bad was cause the plastic was digging into my skin. I was outside smoking a cigarette and I had to shit, I didn't want to put it out even though it felt urgent. I finished it up and was walking past my mom going up the stairs and it all let loose. I'll spare you the details but I told her about my issues. She already knows I have a really overactive bladder and nerve problems so it wasn't weird for her. She even is now helping me cover costs. If I already have an overactive bladder and I'm making messes like this without even trying, I feel like I really do need diapers and I'm so happy. I already knew I needed them on an emotional level and a spiritual level, now I just need to make it fully physical. We even talked about getting a seat cover for her car. It was awkward and extremely embarrasing talking about this to my mom, but those are the realities of double incontinence and I've already accepted I'd have to deal with that a long time ago. My lifelong dream is coming true and I couldn't be more excited.

Alright y'all, this is chapter 21 of 23, the brakes are off! ----- 21 Midday came with the apartment door banging open. Sarita looked up blearily from the couch and realized that Astra must have a key to her apartment. She couldn’t remember if she’d given Astra a key or not, but it didn’t matter. Astra having her own key meant that Sarita didn’t have to get up off the couch. After cooing over Sarita napping like a cute baby on the couch, Astra was a whirlwind of activity. She changed Sarita into a nighttime diaper with a booster pad and disappeared to the kitchen to make lunch. Sarita was content to be totally passive throughout, letting Astra feed her by hand. With lunch done, Astra snatched a few bites of food for herself, checked Nero’s dishes, and bagged up a load of laundry. Before she was out the door, she showered Sarita in kisses, lamenting that she was going to have to work late. Three times, Astra promised to be back the moment she was done working. Then she was gone, like a momentous comet. An hour later – as the energy from her lunch kicked in – Sarita sighed and stirred from the couch. There was a stack of packing material by the door, plenty of boxes, a tape gun, and pre-printed colored stickers that said “Kitchen”, “Bedroom”, “Storage”, and so on. Despite her leaden limbs, Sarita assembled a box and filled it with books. She had three boxes of books done when a knock came at the door. Stupidly, she stared at the door, wondering why Astra didn’t just walk in again. “Come in!” “Uh – I can’t.” It was Nohemi’s voice. Sarita smacked her forehead to clear her stupor and rushed over to open the door. “Hey Mimi. Come in – but for real now.” Nohemi smiled awkwardly and entered. She was dressed in her snappy masc-gear, looking just as sharp as last time in a vest and pinstriped slacks. “Thanks. I wanted to talk about what happened last night at the Fairy. I’m uh – I didn’t do it right.” “Oh, sure.” Sarita smiled encouragingly and waddled over to her couch to take a seat. “You’re really babied up.” Nohemi caught sight of the boxes and frowned. “Are you moving?” “It’s a whole thing.” Sarita sighed. “We can talk about last night if you want.” “Is that okay?” Nohemi wrung her hands. “You seem off. Sarita, I want to be your – good friend. When I’m emotional, it’s hard for me to express what I’m thinking. Like last night at the Fairy – I couldn’t say anything. I knew it was wrong to walk away, but I didn’t have any other options.” “I wish you’d stayed – even if you went away from the conversation. Hiding is something I get though. Sometimes I just – can’t.” “I’ve had so many conversations with Astra. She talks too fast, and so confidently. I can’t keep up. Emotions are hard, I have to think about what I’m saying to make sure that I’m saying the what I mean.” Nohemi paced in front of the apartment door. “Astra never gives me that time. So I left.” “Yeah… she doesn’t have a slow gear.” Sarita smiled wryly. “Is that why you’re babied up? Does she want you like this on your days off?” Nohemi took a deep breath. “Wait, sorry, I take that back. I didn’t come her to grill you about her – like the other time.” Sarita shrugged. Words strained against her chest and throat, but she couldn’t make them come out. What if Astra doesn’t let me see Mimi anymore? Or if Mimi doesn’t want to see me because I’m living with Astra? Am I going to lose everybody? “Did I say something wrong? Please don’t be mad. I’m trying to figure out how to say…” Nohemi stopped her pacing in front of the boxes and stared at them. Slowly, she turned her gaze to Sarita. “Are you moving in with Astra?” “Y-yes,” Sarita whimpered. “Don’t be mad, please.” “I’m not mad, I’m confused.” Nohemi rubbed the back of her neck. “Stop me if I’m saying something I shouldn’t but – you looked so cute with Pauline. Whenever I see you with Astra, you look stressed.” “Ha-ha.” Sarita felt her laugh come out strained and scary. “Well, it’s a whole thing, like I said.” “Can you explain?” Nohemi knitted her brows in worry. “If that’s okay.” “I don’t know it’s…” It’s a reason I’m ashamed of. I’m scared. Mimi’s going to think I’m a stupid failure, or get mad at me for letting Astra do whatever she wants. The silence stretched out, with Sarita watching Nohemi’s expression become progressively more distressed. “It’s none of my business. I should have said congratulations.” Nohemi smiled hesitantly. “I’m sorry, you’ve got good news and you’re worried I’m going to be upset. I’m glad you’re so happy with Astra.” “Happy.” Sarita cast her eyes down, watching her hands tremble in her lap. Her poofy lap, with childish tights straining against the bulk of padding that Astra had put her in. “I uh – yeah, it’s great. Astra’s over the moon, it’s her dream come true. I’m going to be a full-time baby girl.” “Is that what you want?” Nohemi leaned on the couch arm. “You don’t look happy.” “It’s a big thing, is all.” Sarita wiped at her eyes. “Moving is stressful – you know. It’s a little scary but I’ll make it work. I don’t really have a choice.” “What does that mean? Sarita – please, what’s going on?” Sarita stared at Nohemi. For a moment, she thought she could hold firm – could keep her problems from crashing on Nohemi. All at once, her façade crumbled. “I lost my job. Astra’s saving me.” Nohemi’s eyes went wide and Sarita rushed to reassure her friend. “She knows I’m broke, I didn’t trick her! Astra is good at taking care of people, she really wants to do this. I – I’ll get used to being a baby girl. I like it a lot sometimes. It can be fun all the time too, I’m sure. She loves me. I lo – lo – she’s my Angel.” “You’re doing this because you need a place to live?” Nohemi’s condescending disbelief was heartbreaking. “Have you ever been homeless?” Sarita balled up her fists, feeling rage well up inside her. “Well I have! I was homeless for two weeks and it was terrifying! I wasn’t even on the street. I can’t – the street swallows people up. I had a friend who was living on the street and one day she was just – gone.” “You don’t have to be homeless.” Nohemi frowned. “Who’s going to pay my rent, you?” Sarita slammed her fist into her couch in frustration. “Even if you could, that’s not fair.” “I mean, it’s your decision…” Nohemi straightened up, biting her lip. She wrapped her arms around herself, watching Sarita cautiously. Sarita glared back, daring Nohemi to explain away all her problems, like Sarita was going to be able to magically fix everything in her life. The whole point is that I suck and I can’t make it on my own! Astra’s better than lots of people I could end up with. “Look, I don’t want to get into a fight, I…” Nohemi’s frown hardened, she shook her head. “But if you want to fight, I will. This isn’t okay.” “Why, because it’s not how YOU would do it?” “Because you don’t want this! I’m not great at reading people’s emotions but yours are clear! You don’t want to be Astra’s full time baby and I don’t blame you!” Nohemi shuddered and tugged at her hair. “Sarita, what happens if you break up? Then you’ll really be out on the street.” “That’s why I can’t break up!” Sarita shouted. “I’ll do what she says, and be a good baby girl, and it’ll be fine!” “NO.” Nohemi set her jaw and stepped forward. “That’s not fine. That’s not right, and I won’t let you do it unless there’s no other way.” “There IS no other way! My dad is in Mexico, I can’t get there without Nero dying in an airplane cargo compartment. Dad can’t pay my rent either. I can’t ask Pauline to take me in, if that’s what you want. Am I supposed to guilt trip her into letting me move in?” Sarita sobbed and pressed her palms against her eyes until she saw stars. “There’s nobody else!” “There’s me.” Nohemi spoke confidently into the echo left by Sarita’s shout. “There’s Pauline, Tanner, and Oriana. Nieves and Paul count too. You have Ineis at The Pony.” “I can’t ask you to save me! Astra already wanted to do it!” “You’re not asking. I’m offering.” “But Pauline and Tanner and – and everybody aren’t.” Sarita whimpered, breaking into a fresh round of sobs. “You’re about to be surprised.” Nohemi kneeled down next to Sarita on the couch. “Please let me find you some options. Please, Sarita. I can’t bear for you to be so sad – to stay in a relationship that hurts you. I care about you too much.” “It’s too late. I already arranged everything with Astra.” “My mom used to say that it’s never too late until we’re dead.” Nohemi put her hand on Sarita’s leg. “Let me try, please. If I can’t find you another option, I’ll help you pack to move in with Astra.” “Really?” Sarita blinked away tears in confusion. “Really. I promise.” Nohemi put her hand over her heart, like the over-serious dork she was. Sarita laughed through her sobs and nodded. “Okay. Wh-what would you do?” “The first thing is, you said you lost your job. Did you quit, or were you fired?” “Neither.” Sarita sniffled. “Britt took me off the schedule, but she says I might get hours next week.” “If she cut you off for a whole week, you can file for unemployment.” Nohemi nodded fervently at Sarita’s confused look. “The state counts it the same as firing.” “Oh.” “Unemployment takes a while, do you have any savings?” “Um – I made some tips at the Fairy but they probably aren’t enough.” “You made the Munch group a huge amount of money. Tanner was gushing about it. Part of the Munch money is an emergency fund for members. You wouldn’t be the first ABDL to suddenly have housing problems.” “I can’t just – just…” “Tanner manages the fund, it’s up to him. I’m going to call him. About the fund and another thing too.” “Mimi – why?” Sarita sniffled. “Why are you trying so hard with me?” “I love you, Sarita.” Before Sarita’s world could turn upside down, Nohemi ruffled her hair. Oh, like a little sister. That makes sense. For a minute I thought Nohemi was really in love with me. “You have a lot of people that care about you, even if you don’t realize it. Give me a chance to mobilize the troops, okay?” “Okay. Thanks Mimi.” “Of course, tonta.” Nohemi took a seat on the couch and patted Sarita’s feet. “How long do we have until Astra comes back?” “I don’t know. She said she had to work late and apologized a bunch. There wasn’t a time mentioned.” “We have until pretty late then.” Nohemi smiled and pulled out her phone. “That’s good. Before I start calling people, I want to let you know that I’m not taking over, I’m not going to fix this for you.” “You – you’re not?” Sarita’s belly flip flopped. Then what was that whole speech about? “No. I’m going to give you a second choice. You get to pick which one you do.” “Oh.” Sarita smiled weakly. Please don’t do that again Mimi, my heart can’t take it. “I get it. Thank you.” Nohemi squeezed Sarita’s leg and dialed one of her contacts. “Hey Tanner, it’s Nohemi. Yeah, I know. I’m sorry I don’t call more, but this is an emergency. I need to talk to you about the Munch’s member support fund, and I’m calling in the favor you owe me.” Favor? What favor? Damn it Mimi, what are you doing? Sarita listened to Nohemi’s half of the phone conversation, her jaw dropping when Mimi asked Tanner if he knew anyone who was hiring. Her attempt to protest was shut down by Nohemi’s open palm in her face. Oh, very mature Mimi, “talk to the hand”? What is this, grade school? The irony of Sarita complaining about Nohemi’s maturity while she was thickly diapered was painful. Sarita waddled off to check on Nero while Nohemi wrapped up her conversation with Tanner and rang Oriana. Nero had gone into full hiding mode under the bed. No matter what Sarita did, coaxing him with treats, telling him that Nohemi was visiting, or grabbing for him – she couldn’t get Nero out of the corner he’d backed himself into. Rolling her eyes at her cat, Sarita wandered back to the bedroom. “There you are.” Nohemi shoved her phone in her pocket. “Tanner was impressed with your decorating job, he said the colors were really good. I mentioned that you do graphic design sometimes, and he asked if you had any samples. Do you?” “Uh – I have some mock-ups I made once when I was putting a portfolio together.” Sarita sighed. “I never finished the portfolio though.” “Can you send Tanner whatever you have? I’ll text you his email.” “Sure.” Pulling up the old designs was agonizing. Every mistake and janky choice stood out like it was outlined in fluorescent orange. Sarita swallowed her artistic pride and sent the images off to Tanner. “What now?” “Oriana and Nieves are on their way to pick up Paul, then they’ll come here. Tanner will join us when he can, but he’s at work.” Nohemi hesitated. “I didn’t call Pauline. I will, if you need me to, but I think you should call her.” “I can’t.” Sarita whimpered. “I’ve been so awful to her. I was going to ditch her – again!” “You were scared. Nothing permanent has happened yet. I know she cares about you. Do you care about her?” “I love her,” Sarita whispered, shamefacedly. “Then she needs to be here.” “Can I text her, instead of calling?” Nohemi chuckled. “Yes.” Sarita nodded and searched the living room until she found her phone. The message she sent was as short as she could manage without freaking Pauline out – she hoped. “Pauline – Something bad happened and I’m freaking out. Mimi is helping me but if you can, I want you here. If you can’t, it’s okay.” Pauline’s reply was almost instant. “I’m on my way.” “She’s coming – she didn’t even ask what’s going on.” Sarita felt tears dribble down her cheeks. It felt like she’d never done anything but cry. “Of course she is, and of course she didn’t.” Nohemi squeezed Sarita in a crushing hug. “Is it that hard to believe that people care about you, pequeñita?” “I’m a screw-up. People get sick of it.” “No, you’re a Sarita.” Nohemi squeezed Sarita again and sat her on the couch. “You can really hurt yourself by saying you are something bad. Don’t stick a bad noun to yourself. Realize that you did a bad verb, but that it isn’t you.” “What?” “You’re not a screw-up. You might have screwed something up, but failing doesn’t make you a failure.” Nohemi shrugged. “It’s a thing my therapist told me. She helped me see that I was putting a lot of bad stuff on myself that didn’t belong there.” Sarita looked down and chewed over Nohemi’s words. Her past stretched out before her, full of failures and mistakes. What would it be like if those were just things I did, instead of who I am? Though she didn’t have enough time to process a grand revelation, Sarita felt a bloom of hope. “Thanks Mimi.” “I hope it helps. I’m not good with wise words, but I can remember what people said that helped me.” Sarita had enough energy left to smile and nod gratefully at Nohemi. They sat quietly until the next knock on the door. Oriana, Nieves, and Paul entered with noisy concern. Their first order of business was to envelop Sarita in a four-way-hug, upgrading it to five-way when Oriana ordered Nohemi to join. The hug gave Sarita the courage to tell her friends an abbreviated version of what was happening. To her relief, they didn’t interrogate her about her baby outfit, or where she’d been planning to move. Hearing that she’d lost her job and didn’t have rent money was enough to energize them into an outpouring of support. “Tanner will totally give you some money.” Paul took a seat on the floor next to Sarita. She was surprised to hear loud crinkles accompany his movements. “You made so much with the diapers, more than ever before.” “But that’s for the Munch.” Sarita looked Paul over carefully and was amused to see what she’d thought was his shirt was actually a onesie who’s bottom was covered by Paul’s baggy jeans. “I’m sure the next time people will still be hyped to buy your stuff. The hype might not last past the next time, but you already did a lot.” Paul nodded. “Don’t blow me off just because I’m Little. Tanner and I talk about how the Munch money gets handled.” “If you can’t keep this place, you can crash our couch for at least two weeks.” Oriana sat on the couch, squeezing herself between Nohemi and Sarita. Things got really crowded when Nieves took a seat on Oriana’s lap. “I can make the same offer.” Nohemi peeked over Oriana and smiled encouragingly. “You guys…” Sarita sniffled. “No more crying!” Paul bumped his head against Sarita’s arm and wormed his way into a snuggle. “You already cried a lot today. I’m sure you’ll be okay with the Munch money, and a month of places to crash.” Paul’s words were sounding temptingly true. Hesitantly, Sarita let herself believe that something good was going to happen. The positive omens were confirmed when Nero came out from hiding and crawled over all her friends, ending his tour in Nohemi’s lap. “Pspspsps!” Paul waved his hand urgently at Nero. The little black emperor ignored him and curled up on Nohemi’s lap, tucking his tail over his nose. “Let him be. He’ll come to you when he thinks you don’t want him.” Sarita chuckled. “But I do want him.” Paul pouted fussily. “You’ll have to pretend. Haven’t you ever had a cat bef…” Sarita jumped at the loud knocking sound from her door. Before anyone else could get up, she vaulted over the couch back and fast-waddled to the door. Sarita’s relief at seeing Pauline was so strong that she wet herself. There wasn’t time to worry about that reaction, especially with how well padded she was. She pulled Pauline into the apartment and hugged her desperately. “Hi there hon.” Pauline squeezed Sarita tightly. “What’s going on? The whole gang’s here.” “Can we talk – in my bedroom?” Sarita looked up at Pauline plaintively. “Of course.” Pauline followed Sarita to the bedroom with worried curiosity on her face. Sarita took a seat on the bed and patted a spot next to her. “My life is – melting down. I got fired or laid off or something today.” “Oh no, sweetie!” Pauline took her seat and squeezed Sarita’s hand. “What can I do to help?” “Wait – before you offer that, I have to tell you what I did.” I’m doing it, Mimi. This better work out, or I’m going to cry snot all over your pretty vest. Sarita watched Pauline nervously, but she didn’t seem upset, only concerned. “I panicked and – I told Astra that I’d be her full time baby girl.” Sarita trembled and closed her eyes. Rejection on Pauline’s face would be unbearable. “Please let me finish! I – I knew she’d take me in. Being homeless is so scary – I know a little bit about what it’s like. So I ran to her but – I don’t love her. I don’t like how she wants me to be only a baby. I love you.” “Why didn’t you ask me if you could move in?” “Because – because I didn’t want to ruin what we had – what we have.” Sarita sniffled. “I care about you too much to – to be that girl who moved in with her girlfriend and never had money for rent and was a lump in the living room and – and…” “I think I get it.” Pauline bonked her forehead against Sarita’s. “That’s sweet. Really, really stupid, but sweet.” “It’s too soon for us to move in together!” “I agree. But I would have tried to help somehow. What changed your mind?” “Um – Mimi told me I was being stupid and I yelled at her, and she didn’t go away even though she totally should have, and then I finally listened to her.” Pauline gently but firmly karate-chopped Sarita on the head. “You almost panicked yourself into a scary relationship trap.” “I know, and I feel awful. For you – and for Astra. She loves me – and it’s not like I don’t care about her.” Sarita flopped onto her side and wormed her head into Pauline’s lap. “Now I promised something to her that I don’t want to – that I can’t do, and she’s going to be really hurt.” “Yeah, she is.” Pauline sighed and stroked Sarita’s hair. “Are you going to be able to do the right thing when you talk to her? Maybe you can call her to make it easier.” “I don’t know. She’s um – coming here. Tonight. I’m not sure when.” “Are we being filmed? Is this a reality show about queer disasters?” “Don’t make fun!” “Sarita, I have to make a little bit of fun of you or I’ll bonk you again.” “You could spank me.” “First of all, not with our entire friend group out there. Second, no, because sexy play is not a substitute for talking stuff out.” “Not even in ABDL relationships?” “No hon, god no.” “Oh. Because that’s how Astra and I did stuff.” “What?” “If we had a fight – she’d spank me or put soap in my mouth or whatever, and that would fix it.” “That – did not fix it.” Pauline shook her head. “Did you ever talk to her about that?” “I tried once. I set boundaries and stuff but – she’s so strong.” “Sweetie, you are breaking my heart.” “Did I really break it?” Sarita scrunched her eyes closed, tensing like she would against a physical blow. “Are we – over?” “No, we aren’t.” Pauline sighed. “But we have a lot of conversations coming up about this. I can never feel safe with you. You always have one foot out the door.” Ouch. Sarita opened her eyes, looked up at Pauline and nodded. I deserved that. But – like Mimi said, I did a bad thing, but I’m not bad. Sarita wasn’t sure if she believed it, but she was only feeling regular guilty, not heartburn-inducing guilty. It was an improvement, at least. A soft knock at the bedroom door made both girls look up. “It’s Nohemi. I have Tanner on the phone for you, Sarita.” Gracias a dios that it’s not Astra. Yet. “Okay, coming.” Sarita took Nohemi’s phone from her with a mouthed thanks. “Hi, it’s Sarita.” “Hi Sarita, it’s Tanner. I sent your designs to a client of mine. She runs a graphic design studio and she really liked them.” “She did?” “Are you available for a job interview tomorrow?” “Uh – yeah, any time!” “Great. My client’s name is Colleen. Her studio is Ardent Graphic and Design. I’ll text you the address. Her preferred time is eleven tomorrow morning.” “I’ll be there. Thank you!” “You’re welcome. It’s no problem, she’s been looking for another designer for a while, but this isn’t a promise that you have a job. You have to pass the interview.” “I understand.” Sarita wiped her sleeve across her eyes. “It’s still a huge help.” “It’s really nothing. You can tell Nohemi I still owe her a favor. Did Paul talk to you about the Munch emergency fund?” “He did but…” “Good! Then I’ll let him handle that. There’s plenty of money in there. If you need to draw up to an entire month’s rent, you can. We can talk about paying the money back to the fund later, when you’re not worried about housing insecurity. You’ve contributed more than most members to the fund anyway.” “Tanner – thank you. I don’t know what to say.” “Me either, and I’m already late for a meeting with a client. I’m working late but I’ll come by to pick Paul up tonight, if you don’t mind him hanging around until then.” “Of course, he’s welcome to hang out.” “Great. I’ll talk to you later. Sorry for the short call, I wanted to let Colleen know about the interview right away. Bye.” “Bye.” Sarita stared at the phone in wonder. “Well?” Pauline was bouncing on the bed. Nohemi was still at the door, looking expectantly. “I have a job interview tomorrow at eleven.” Sarita felt like she was speaking underwater, in a dream. “At a graphic design studio – to be a designer.” “That’s amazing!” Pauline jumped off the bed and grabbed Sarita, spinning her around. Nohemi’s face flashed by in Sarita’s spinning vision, smiling happily. “I might not get it. It’s just an interview.” Sarita couldn’t stop smiling, despite her words. “You got a next-day interview. You have a chance at least.” Nohemi said firmly. There was a rumble of conversation outside the bedroom. Nohemi turned to look. “For real!” Pauline nodded. “Princess! What’s going on!” Astra’s voice came clearly across the apartment. With a bottomless pit in her stomach, Sarita disengaged from Pauline and pushed past Nohemi into the living room. She could have cut the awkwardness with a knife and served it like cake. There would have been more than enough awkward-cake for everyone. All her friends’ faces had strained expressions at seeing Astra the doorway with the key in her hand. “Angel.” Sarita felt the full force of Astra’s hurt, confused gaze. Her guilt squeezed her stomach and set her chest burning. “We have to talk.” “I think we do.” Astra blinked away tears. “Can we please – talk privately?” “I’m sorry, I don’t think I can.” Sarita winced at Astra’s incredulous look. “I have trouble saying what I need to say when we talk alone.” “That’s – that’s not fair! I ask you how you’re feeling! I’ve been doing my best. You – you called me! You asked me to be my baby girl, I didn’t push you into it.” “Astra.” Oriana’s voice was quiet, but she made it carry. “Please don’t yell. Sarita doesn’t do well with that. Nobody does, really.” “I’m sorry but I feel really ganged up on!” Astra’s voice had a strong note of panic in it, her hands were trembling. “There’s nobody on my side here. I came over expecting to help my Princess pack and – and I don’t even know what I walked into.” “It’s not fair – and it’s my fault.” Sarita sighed. “I guess – I guess we can talk in the bedroom. But please, Angel – let me talk and listen to me, like you did with the sugar packets.” “Of course, you know I’ll do anything for you.” Astra closed the apartment door and smiled pleadingly at Sarita. “I don’t know what happened, but I can fix this. Please don’t be mad, Princess, I can make this work.” Nohemi and Pauline sidled gingerly out of the bedroom. Sarita winced. Honestly, someone should be filming this. It would make great reality TV. As Astra strode forward, Sarita retreated to the bedroom. In the doorway, Nohemi caught Astra’s arm. “Don’t bully her.” Astra’s glare could have melted steel. There was explosive fury in her tone when she retorted, “I am going to fight for my love.” The last thing Sarita saw before the bedroom door closed was Nohemi’s worried frown. Then there was just her Angel, looming in front of her with a face full of hurt. “Princess, how could you do this to me? You didn’t text me to warn me what I was going to find when I came here. Do you know how hurtful that was?” Sarita closed her eyes, wincing. What am I going to say? There’s no way out of this that doesn’t end in screaming and tears – is there

The conclusion to DJ and Cody's story! DJ and Cody want to make a deal. Will The Diaper Man be agreeable to one? What do the two young men have to trade? Will they escape the clutches of their kidnapper? Find out what happens PLUS an epilogue giving us a little more of the story! --- My Patreon is now FAIRER than ever. Thanks to a change in the payment system patrons will no long be charged on the day they join and the 1st of the next month. Now they will only be charged on the day they sign up each month. Patreon is my only income. I appreciate everyone who checks my page out and considers supporting me in my writing and helping me pay the bills If you enjoy my writing and would like to support my writing I appreciate everyone who is able to help me pay the bills. This is my only income so I'm profoundly thankful to all my patrons. For just $5 a month you can see everything I post one week before the rest of the world and for $10 you get the early access PLUS ALL 45 PATREON EXCLUSIVE STORIES that aren't available anywhere else. There are more tiers and rewards and all the info can be found on my Patreon. https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 All patronage is sincerely appreciated and I thank you all in advance for reading my stories ❤️ --- As soon as they went through the warehouse and ended up back in the nursery DJ and Cody noticed they saw each other as adults and the Diaper Man had returned to his usual form. They were unstrapped from their wheeled toddler chair and then Cody was carried over to the changing table whilst DJ stood nearby. The Diaper Man clearly didn’t see DJ as a threat or an escape risk as he was free to wander around. DJ walked over to the window as he heard the tapes on Cody’s diaper being ripped off. His friend was silent during the change, it was scary how routine this was already becoming. DJ sighed and as he breathed out he felt a sudden warming of the front of his diaper. His hands shot down to cover his crotch even as he continued to wet himself without control. It helped focus his mind. DJ was surprised when he felt a large set of fingers curl around his upper arm. He shuddered knowing it was the Diaper Man grabbing him for his change. He didn’t resist as he was pulled across the room. His diaper was now both very warm and sagging very low between his thighs. He looked down at Cody who was now sitting on the floor with slightly rosy cheeks. The Diaper Man lifted Cody up and laid him on the changing table in the same way he had done many times before. The bottom of the onesie was opened and lifted over DJ’s tummy he felt the tapes being pulled off the front of the underwear and as it slackened the cool air of the nursery. “Please let us go…” DJ muttered. It was hardly the first time he had begged for mercy. “Give it a rest.” Cody suddenly exclaimed from the floor, “You’re wasting your breath and giving me a headache.” DJ pursed his lips and looked up at the Diaper Man. The impassive man’s face never betrayed emotion but for once there was a flicker of something behind the yes. If DJ didn’t know better he would’ve thought he saw some humanity behind the expressionless mask. It pushed him to keep going, maybe it was a little crack in the armour that he could open up. “I know you can understand me.” DJ said before pausing as the cold baby wipes being pushed against his genitals made him wince, “You were talking to that woman so I know you can do it. I know you could talk to us if you wanted to.” The Diaper Man didn’t say anything as he pulled out the used diaper and started folding it up to drop into the diaper pail. DJ watched for any sign of understanding but his mask was back up again and the diaper change was continuing in a very workmanlike fashion. DJ knew in his bones that this was his chance. He had to find a way to get this mythical kidnapper to listen to him, to somehow negotiate a release. He thought back to the hours of trawling through the internet he had done. He tried to remember all of the accounts he had read and all the information about what everyone had assumed had been a legend made up to scare others. It suddenly came to him and he couldn’t believe he hadn’t thought about this before. “You accept trades, don’t you?” DJ asked quickly. He was unable to keep the sound of desperate pleading out of his voice. He remembered reading this very point, you could escape the Diaper Man by sacrificing others. At this point DJ had no principles and would consider selling out his own grandmother to escape. DJ’s legs were lifted as a fresh diaper was slipped underneath him. He felt the cloud-like padding cushioning his bare bottom, it’s softness becoming more familiar than alien and almost a comfort within this stressful time. The Diaper Man was unperturbed by DJ’s question. “Make a trade with me!” DJ tried to hide the desperation from his voice but it was impossible. The Diaper Man placed the tapes on the diaper without pausing and lifted DJ over to the crib. He was strapped down to the mattress as per usual before Cody was put in with him. The side of the crib rattled up and DJ closed his eyes in frustrated defeat. It was his final gambit, if this didn’t work he knew the situation was hopeless. “Those men…” The Diaper Man’s voice came out raspy. It seemed to be more air than sound, “At the park?” DJ and Cody were so shocked to see the Diaper Man speak that neither of them knew how to react. DJ looked from his friend to the unblinking eyes of the lanky demon. It took him a few seconds to work out what the Diaper Man meant. He belatedly realised he was continuing the conversation from the changing table. “Yes! You want me to get them? I’ll get them!” DJ quickly said. His words almost tripped over each other on the way out of his mouth. The Diaper Man’s face remained motionless and expressionless but unless DJ was imagining it he gave a very subtle nod of his head. The Diaper Man turned away from the crib and walked towards the door, it looked like he was going to leave in silence before he stopped with the door open and the black void outside the nursery almost swallowing him. “Make them touch this.” The Diaper Man didn’t turn around but he held up one of his thin arms. The sleeve was pulled back to show a scar just like the ones DJ and Cody had. DJ nodded his head in understanding even though The Diaper Man wasn’t looking at him. The kidnapper reached over with his spare hand and touched the mark causing a sudden burning sensation on both Cody and DJ. They convulsed and their limbs pulled against the straps that held them down. At once it felt like both their bodies gave way. An impulse to push down with their tummy muscles became overwhelming and overpowering, a cramp that didn’t go away wormed through their digestive systems until it seemed to almost be prodding at their tightened holes. DJ’s face was straining when he heard a loud fart. He didn’t immediately know whether it had come from him or his friend he heard a groan of resignation he knew it was Cody. DJ didn’t last much longer and with the pressure pushing him to breaking point he felt his muscles lose the fight as a flood of semi-solid mush seemed to explode out of his body and into the waiting diaper. “Fuck…” DJ gasped between cramps. DJ’s diaper felt like it was being pushed to the limit and that he was compelled to push everything into it. The creeping heat went up towards his lower back and up between his legs until the diaper was bulging out in every direction. Just when it felt like it would burst it ended and he was left panting on the mattress, his wrists and ankles were red raw from the restraints he had been subconsciously pulling against. When DJ’s head flopped to the side he could see Cody’s diaper. He gasped at how the brown contents threatened to spill from the cuffs on his legs. The previously white underwear now seemed covered with giant brown splotches. From the way Cody was staring at DJ’s diaper he knew he must me in a similar state. “How are we supposed to get the deal done like this?” Cody asked as he pulled against the restraints. “I don’t know…” DJ said quietly as a yawn forced it’s way out of his body. Despite how uncomfortable their situations were DJ and Cody soon found themselves feeling exceptionally tired. Their minds seemed to wander away from their bodies. Slowly but surely both of the young men fell into a deep sleep. --- “DJ! Wake up!” DJ felt warmth all over his body. A breeze blew at a few locks of his hair that were over his face. He was annoyed at the interruption of his sleep and grunted tiredly. He flatly refused to open his eyes, it felt like opening his eyes and acknowledging the day would mean giving up on the sweet darkness he was currently inhabiting. “Wake up!” DJ wasn’t lying down anymore. He was in a sitting position and could feel thin taut material underneath him and behind his back. He was in the pushchair. He frowned even as his eyes remained tightly closed, the last thing he remembered was being in the crib next to Cody. Come to think of it, he had just filled his diaper to the brim and yet he was quite sure this one was only a little soggy. “God damn it! WAKE UP!” The voice was getting very insistent now and DJ was getting increasingly annoyed. He just wanted to sleep, why couldn’t whoever was shouting at him understand that. Didn’t they know how comfortable he felt? “DJ!” This time DJ felt two hands roughly pushing him so that he slumped over to the side of the stroller. At last DJ abandoned the thought of more sleep as his eyes fluttered open. He was looking down at a gravel path to the side of the stroller. As his mind starting clicking into gear he realised why this should alarm him. “Where are we? What’s going on?” DJ sat up again and felt the straps holding him in place forcefully keep him in the chair. There was no give in them. “Finally…” Cody sounded frustrated, “I don’t know how we got here but we’re at the park!” DJ’s eyes were adjusting to the light now and he could see that Cody was correct. In front of them but some distance away was the main play area and the gravel path leading from it to where the stroller was now sat. They were next to a park bench and DJ belatedly realised it was the very same one he had been trying to use to climb to his feet the previous day. “The Diaper Man isn’t here?” DJ said as he looked around in every direction. “I haven’t seen him. I woke up a few minutes ago.” Cody said, “And you don’t look like a baby to me…” DJ had to think about what Cody meant for a second before remembering the previous day and the strange physical regression they appeared to take on when looked at by others. He looked at Cody and saw only the scared adult he had grown used to seeing over the last few days. DJ put the two most important points together and realised they were incredibly exposed. They were out in a public space, dressed like babies and looking like their adult selves… “We have to get out of here before someone sees us!” DJ exclaimed as he started pulling ineffectively at the straps. “They aren’t budging.” Cody replied but there was a strange inflection of hope in his voice, “I tried already. It might be embarrassing but at least whoever finds us can let us out, right?” DJ had a feeling it wouldn’t be that simple. It was strange to see the park so empty, he wondered where everyone was. As he craned his neck to look around as much as possible he heard Cody gasp loudly. DJ turned to face forwards again and saw the source of Cody’s shock. In the distance but walking towards them was the gang of bullies. James Spencer was front and centre as the group headed straight for the stroller. “Remember what the Diaper Man said.” DJ voice cracked and his mouth felt very dry, “We need to get them to touch our marks.” Cody nodded but his teeth were chattering nervously. DJ felt his anxiety getting worse as the group got closer, the bullies’ voices started to become audible and he saw several of them point his way. Whether they would be able to make the deal or not it seemed they wouldn’t be spared a final humiliation. “What in the name of…” James swaggered forwards and up to the stroller. He seemed almost too shocked to make fun of DJ and Cody, it took him a few seconds to truly take in what he was seeing. DJ and Cody could only sit and blush as the gang burst into laughter. The two boys could hardly blame them, they realised they must look utterly ridiculous. A lot of comments were made but most were inaudible thanks either to the howling laughter or the gang members talking over each other. “Jesus Christ…” It was Charlie, the second-in-command, who was the first to walk forwards, “I knew these two were freaks but this is something else.” DJ whimpered as the gang walked forwards and surrounded the stroller. They circled the two boys and pushed and prodded the various parts of the seats. It was James himself who pulled out the diaper bag and opened it up, with a snort of derision he emptied the contents on the ground. Spare diapers, baby wipes, bottles, rash cream and pacifiers bounced on the ground bring fresh waves of laughter. “A real couple of perverts.” James hissed as he crouched in front of the stroller to come face to face with the trapped men, “What’re you doing here? Need some proper humiliation to get yourselves off?” DJ was going very red in the face but he still didn’t say anything. “Fuck me…” Charlie crouched down next to James, “They’ve wet themselves!” James and Charlie both reached forwards and started prodding the obviously wet diapers. They then pulled their hands away with looks of absolute disgust. DJ and Cody couldn’t even hide their faces, the shame at being seen like this felt devastating and it was all either of them could do to prevent them both from bursting into tears. DJ raised his hands up anyway in a desperate attempt to cover his face. He couldn’t manage it but the tattooed mark on his lower arm became visible. Through his tear-filled eyes he could see James and Charlie frowning at the mark. James reached forward and took DJ’s arm, his big hand wrapping around DJ’s skinny upper arm with ease. “What’s this?” James frowned, “Holy crap! Did you freaks actually get matching tattoos!?” Cody’s own mark was showing and Charlie mimicked his friend in taking hold of the diapered man’s arm. Noting it didn’t look like a regular tattoo they both reached forwards with their spare hands and placed fingers against the safety pin shaped marks. Time immediately seemed to freeze for a second. There was a loud sound like a whip crack that cut through the air causing everyone to jump. James and Charlie dropped back from the stroller, the former fell on to his ass on the path whilst the other stumbled back. The whole gang backed away as the Diaper Man appeared suddenly. DJ hoped they had followed the agreement, he barely dared to hope. “W-Who the hell are you!?” James gasped in shock and fear. The Diaper Man raised one of his long arms in the air and then brought his other hand up. He touched the mark and immediately caused both James and Charlie to gasp. DJ looked from the tall figure to the two bullies who suddenly grabbed at their crotches. Cody gasped as he saw wetness spreading across the lower half of the bullies’ clothes. The rest of the gang could also see this and although not affected they continued backing away. The Diaper Man waited a few seconds and watched as James and Charlie looked down at their own sudden loss of control. They seemed stunned into paralysis. The tall man turned to look at DJ and Cody. DJ thought that it looked like he was searching for confirmation to continue, the diapered man nodded his head. For the second time the Diaper Man pressed a finger to his mark. There was another loud whip crack and DJ and Cody found themselves staggering unsteadily on the path. As they got their bearings they could see they had traded places with James and Charlie who were now strapped into the stroller. DJ and his friend were still in diapers but they were, for all intents and purposes, free. “Wait! Help us!” Charlie yelled desperately as he pulled at the straps hopelessly, “DJ! Cody! Guys!” DJ looked up to see the gang of bullies now running away. It seemed that with their two leaders now trapped in the stroller they no longer knew what to do and their fear took hold. It was only as DJ watched the bullies running away that he noticed a squelching in his diaper. Judging from how Cody was putting his hand to his rear end he seemed to be coming to the same realisation, at some point during the place swap the two diapered men had filled their disposables. The Diaper Man took his place behind the pushchair. After a lingering look at DJ and Cody he turned the stroller around with the screaming bullies still struggling. There was another crack through the air and a brief blinding light made DJ and Cody shield their eyes and look away. When they looked back up they could see that they were alone. “We did it!” DJ yelled triumphantly, “We’re free!” DJ and Cody hugged and then high-fived excitedly. They were so happy they were able to ignore the fact that they were wearing extremely used diapers that were exposed if anyone cared to look over. They took a few moments just to enjoy the fact that they were free of that mythical man. “We’ve still got the brands.” Cody said as he held up his arms. “If it means we’re free I’ll accept a weird tattoo.” DJ replied, “Let’s get out of here and out of these diapers.” DJ and Cody were thankful that there were few people around but they still got some looks and catcalls as they ran back to DJ’s house as fast as possible. There was no one home which was a small mercy and using the hidden spare key DJ let himself and his friend in to get changed out of the diapers and some showers. They were both determined to put this strange period of their lives forever. --- Epilogue The first two weeks after escaping the nursery were filled with anxiety. DJ and Cody both found themselves looking over their shoulders and every unexpected sound would have them jumping. DJ in particular was susceptible to seeing things out the corner of his eyes but finding nothing there when he turned to look. Cody was able to save his job after explaining to his boss that he was sick and it came on very suddenly though he got some strange looks from his co-workers. The marks on DJ and Cody’s arms faded a bit but remained very visible as diaper pins. Thankfully there seemed to be no long term damage in terms of bladder and bowel control, both of which had returned to normal. The only thing both DJ and Cody struggled with was guilt. Their escape had cost two other people their freedom and with the time dilation effects they seemed to experience they knew the bullies, James and Charlie, must’ve been in the nursery for a very long time. They may have been bad people but they didn’t deserve what was happening to them. “It just feels shitty…” DJ argued one day when he was hanging out with Cody. “I know.” Cody replied, “But what are we supposed to do? We’re going to college in a couple of days and we have our whole lives in front of us, you know those guys weren’t going anywhere except to jail.” “That’s not the point.” DJ retorted. “I know.” Cody said again, “But it is what it is.” Both men lapsed into silence with DJ sighing heavily and Cody looking out the window. Just visible over the houses in the distance were the steel roofs of the warehouses. One of those large buildings led to the shack. Cody shivered just thinking about it. He had vowed never to go remotely close to that whole area of town. “Well, I didn’t come here to mope about all day.” Cody finally said, “This might be the last time we see each other. Can we at least go outside and reminisce about this crappy town?” DJ smiled and chuckled as he nodded his head. Cody was right, they were both leaving home and whether they ever hung out again was up in the air. They would be making new friends in different places and maybe they would just gradually lose contact. “Alright, let me get my shoes.” DJ said. A few minutes later DJ and Cody had left the house and were walking down the street. They were both quieter than usual but it wasn’t awkward, it was more just wistful. The two had grown up together and shared a lot of experiences, most of them good. When they did talk it was about memories certain places brought up, the one thing occupying both minds but left unspoken was the Diaper Man. When they turned to enter the park DJ and Cody both pretended not to notice the missing person posters attached to the streetlights. They had been going up all over town and DJ felt a pang of guilt every time he saw the photos of James or Charlie smiling. He couldn’t help but think of the families and friends that were still looking for them. At the time swapping places with them seemed like a no-brainer but in hindsight DJ wondered if there hadn’t been another way to escape that they hadn’t thought about. “There was nothing we could do.” Cody said suddenly as if he had read DJ’s mind, “It was us or them.” “Does that make it any better?” DJ asked, “We are going to college and hopefully have a bright future and they didn’t. Does that make what we did alright?” “We couldn’t stay there.” Cody reasoned, “Anyone would’ve taken the trade like we did.” DJ lapsed into silence as they continued down the path of loose stones. He tried to convince himself Cody was right and maybe a part of him agreed that anyone would do it but it didn’t help him feel better. “Hey!” An aggressive shout from behind caused DJ and Cody to turn around. Almost as soon as the two young men had turned they were set upon by a group of bullies without their leaders. DJ was shoved to the ground whilst Cody was pushed on to a nearby bench. In the shock of what was happening it took DJ a second to recognise that the people now attacking him were James and Charlie’s friends. “You bastards got James and Charlie taken by that… thing.” One of the young men stepped forwards. His head was shaved and he looked like he spend every hour of the day working out, “You need to get them back!” “I… I…” Cody had both his hands out in submission as he stuttered. “The police don’t believe us.” Another of the men said, “No one does!” DJ couldn’t blame people for not believing the gang members’ stories of James and Charlie being abducted by some lanky mythical creature. It was why DJ and Cody hadn’t told anyone what had happened to them, they knew they would be looked at as crazy. “We can’t do anything.” DJ said as he finally stood back up. “Bullshit!” The massively muscled skinhead yelled, “You must know something about where they are or how to get to them.” “We don’t!” DJ lied. The skinhead looked angry and he threw a punch at DJ. It hit him in the jaw causing DJ to stagger backwards into the chest of another of the group. “Tell me how to get them back!” The skinhead shouted. “I…” DJ said before another punch landed. “We can take you to the entrance!” Cody suddenly shouted over the raised voices, “Just please stop hitting DJ.” The skinhead nodded his head and the person DJ was leaned up against after his punches moved. DJ dropped to the floor and looked up at Cody uncertainly. Despite his worries and guilt the last thing he wanted to do was go anywhere near the Diaper Man or his nursery. He could see Cody looking at him with concern. “Finally.” The skinhead nodded his head, “Lead the way.” DJ climbed back to his feet and alongside Cody started walking out of the park and towards the large warehouses. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the gang, they seemed pumped up and ready for a fight. DJ had no doubt they didn’t stand a chance if they went up against the Diaper Man. “Are you alright?” Cody asked quietly. “You shouldn’t have told them we knew anything.” Was DJ’s only response. “They were beating you up!” Cody argued. “I can take a beating.” DJ replied, “I don’t know if I can take the nursery again.” DJ felt his nerves building with each step. He wished that he had any way to convince the gang to stop this pointless endeavour, he even considered just running away but he was never the most athletic person and knew he wouldn’t get far. “How far is it?” The skinhead asked impatiently. “Just a couple more blocks.” Cody replied. The massive buildings loomed larger and larger until the group were stood right outside. DJ shuddered as he looked into the black interior of the warehouse, he knew the hell that was on the other side. Was it his imagination or was the faded mark on his arm tingling? “It’s in there?” The skinhead asked dubiously. “Yeah…” Cody replied nervously. He was scratching his arm right over his mark and DJ wondered if he was feeling the same strangeness. DJ remembered the time dilation effects. They had been in the cabin for just a few days but in the outside world not even one full day had passed. It had been weeks since James and Charlie were taken away, they would’ve been in the nursery, from their point of view, for a very long time. “Alright, you two go first.” The skinhead said. “No way!” Cody turned around with wide eyes full of fear, “You wanted us to bring you here and we have!” “You can ether walk in or we’ll throw you in.” The skinhead glowered, “Your choice but either way you’re going first.” Cody looked at DJ and shrugged. They both turned to the open door and the darkness inside and made a few tentative steps forwards. They walked into the darkness and heard their footsteps echoing off the walls, they were followed shortly afterwards by the footsteps of the gang. DJ was hoping that the light he knew to mark the nursery on the other end of the darkness would never come. For a few seconds he felt hopeful but then the glimmer appeared and he felt himself shake. He felt Cody next to him reach out in the darkness and take his hand, he didn’t object. The light grew brighter and brighter until they arrived at a door. Cody and DJ stopped and turned back to look at the gang who were just a couple of feet behind. They nodded their head and stepped to the side. “Alright, you all ready?” The skinhead whispered, “Don’t hold back. Let that old man have it and then get James and Charlie out of there. We’ll be heroes.” The gang members cracked their knuckles and got ready. The skinhead took position in front of the door and then gave it a hard kick. The door banged open and the gang, hopped up on adrenaline, burst inside screaming and shouting. Cody and DJ looked at each other with pale faces and then peeked around the edges of the doorframe. Inside the nursery chaos reigned. The gang members had filled a bunch of the space and were looking around, the Diaper Man was nowhere to be seen. The skinhead looked to the crib and slowly but surely they all turned to face the same way. “James?” The skinhead gasped, “Charlie?” DJ was unable to contain his curiosity and he stepped cautiously inside. He could immediately see why the gang was shocked. There were no restraints holding the two leaders down. Their thick diapers bulged underneath their thin onesies but the two young men looked nonplussed about the situation. Charlie was biting on his toes and James was looking out at his gang with only the slightest flicker of recognition. “Fuck me…” The skinhead muttered, “What has he done to you!?” “Are woo dada?” James childishly lisped. As the gang tried to open the crib or get James to make sense DJ and Cody stayed by the door. Almost simultaneously they clutched their marks as they started burning a little. DJ’s heart immediately went into overdrive and panic flooded his nervous system. Silently and out of nowhere the Diaper Man glided through the door. DJ and Cody were frozen on the spot in fear. The gang hadn’t noticed him coming in and now he was close behind them. When one member of the group finally turned his head he screamed and everyone became aware that the young men were no longer alone. “Get him!” The skinhead yelled desperately. The gang crowded around the frail looking Diaper Man and started punching and kicking. They made no impression on the Diaper Man who simply touched the mark on his wrist. A lot of things started happening and the nursery came alive with movement. The highchairs suddenly seemed to come to live as the galloped into the middle of the room. Two bullies were forced into the chairs with the tray locking them in. They struggled but were stuck. Ribbon came out of a drawer and spiralled through the air. There seemed to be eight strands, four blue and an equal amount of pink. The ribbons wrapped around the ankles and wrists of two more bullies and lifted them up into the air. The skinhead himself was suddenly assailed by all the teddy bears from the shelf and the play area. He tried to throw them all off but they swarmed him until he was helpless to them. The Diaper Man then picked him up and carried him towards the changing table. As he walked the very nursery itself stretched out and five new cribs and highchairs appeared. The Diaper Man looked back at DJ and Cody. As one they turned and sprinted out of the door. The door slammed shut behind them leaving them in the darkness again. Neither stopped nor looked back until they were back out in front of the warehouse. “Let’s get out of here!” Cody yelled. “Wait!” DJ stopped just outside the warehouse and looked back into the darkness. “What are you doing!?” Cody hurried back over to DJ and pulled on his sleeve, “We have to go!” “We can’t leave them.” DJ said earnestly. “What do you mean?” Cody asked desperately. “We abandoned James and Charlie to their fates and now look at them!” DJ looked at the ground and shook his head, “I can’t leave another five people to end up like that.” “I can.” Cody countered quickly, “If the alternative is being stuck in there forever!” DJ and Cody looked out at the freedom of the industrial area and the world beyond. Then they both turned as one to look at the darkness of the warehouse, the light signifying the horrid nursery wasn’t even visible from there. “DJ, man, you know that if you go I have to go with you.” Cody sounded like he was about to burst into tears, “But I really, really don’t want to. I beg you to think about this.” DJ looked into the darkness of the warehouse and then the light of the outside world. His brain and heart were racing and he seemed to be changing his mind on a second by second basis. He turned to look at Cody. Their eyes locked, a mutual desperation behind both faces. “Alright.” DJ finally said, “We should…”

Chapter 30: Questions -Nia- Infernum Infantem – LittleFallenPrincess An hour later… “So… I know this ‘munch’ thing is supposed to be for catching up with normal stuff… but…” I said, picking a point in the conversation where everyone was quiet so that I could bring it up. “You want to ask questions regarding this lifestyle.” Abby said, as if she could read my mind. “Was it that obvious?” “A bit. But yeah, go ahead. You’re new to all this and we’re happy to act as your guides.” “So I guess my first question is… do you…” “Do we wear nappies?” Again with the mind reading… “Sounds like…” “Like we’ve been asked this question a million times? Yeah. But don’t worry.” Grim said, laughing. “So… Do you?” I asked. “I wear on occasion. Lucy here wears as much as she can, usually the thickest and most babyish ones possible. Abby prefers pull ups… though we have dared her to wear some of Lucy’s on occasion.” “I play an older toddler. I still enjoy pullups, but that’s about it.” Abby clarified. “I… like to be as little as possible.” Lucy chimed in next. “And I like to be a brat. If that means getting forced into them… even better.” Grim grinned. “You like being forced into them?” I asked. “Yeah. It’s a lot of fun.” Lucy then took over. “Agreed. Being brought down from an adult to a baby in no time at all, against our will… perfect. Provided safe words and everything have been agreed upon and followed, of course.” Being… forced… into them? That certainly intrigued me. Maybe I’d have to increase the level of brattiness around Vic so I could force that interaction… “And do you all have nurseries too?” I asked. “You have a NURSERY?” Lucy asked, surprised and clearly jealous. “You don’t?” “I wish! Why do you think I come to Sanctuary? All the furniture and stuff in the other rooms is amazing, and despite my housemates knowing all about this… there’s no way I could fit or even afford a whole adult nursery!” “Yeah, she’d love one. Me… sure they’re fun, but I see no reason to own one when I’m not often little. Plus like Lucy said… expensive.” Grim added. “My bedroom at home isn’t a nursery, but it is very pastel and cutesy, with lots of stuffies and cute decorations. That’s about it. Nurseries don’t really appeal to me.” Abby replied. “So why do you come to Sanctuary? Sorry, I still don’t even know what these ‘events’ are.” I asked. “To make friends and hang out with people who I don’t get to see often. A chance to be little with others and have fun as the real me.” Grim answered first. “Yeah, the nursery furniture is cool, but it’s the friends I made here that make this special.” Lucy chimed in. “How long have you been coming here?” “I’ve been coming here for about 5 years.” Abby answered first this time. “10 for me. Ever since I was 20.” Grim replied. “About 40 for me.” Lucy replied. “FORTY?” I blurted out, not realising how loud I was. “Yeah, I've been coming here ever since it first opened. Before this place existed I was a complete shut in. I never ever left my apartment, and I lived alone. This place was the only place I found I could open up and actually leave the apartment for. I made some wonderful friends, who helped bring me out of my shell slowly. I met Grim here, and a few other kinksters and they offered me a room in their house, so I took it. I’ve made a lot of progress, but I’m still quite a bit of a shut-in, so I’ve got a lot more progress to go.” “Hey, you are so much better than you used to be, Luce. Be proud of that.” Grim said, in a weirdly supportive tone, which is so different to the joke-y, bratty tone he had had for most of the munch so far. “Thanks. But yeah, I’ve been here since it started.” “What about the owners? What are they like? I know one is Beatrice’s sister, but until recently I didn’t even know she had a sister. Or that littles existed.” I asked, following the line of questions in my mind whilst Vic just sat there, listening. “They’re lovely. You’ll probably get to meet them at the next event. Shame they had to go out of town, they would love to meet you. Beth actually reminds me a lot of you, Victoria.” Lucy answered. “Really?” Vic finally spoke up. “Yeah. Very… Mummyish.” “Thanks? I guess?” Victoria laughed. Lucy just blushed and hid her face in her scarf. “So what rooms are there here? I heard it’s a safe place to stay if you’re in need of it. But what else? What’s all this about nursery furniture and stuff?” I asked. “Yeah they offer a place to crash, and they’ll help you if you’re in need of help. This part, the part we’re in now, is just a typical nightclub for all non-humans, and humans who are part of our world, like Bea.” Grim explained. ‘Yeah, I wondered if she’d be welcome… seeing as she’s mostly human. She has magic, but she’s still human… I think?’ “But yeah, the front is the vanilla area.” Abby clarified. “Vanilla?” Vic asked. “Not kinky. Just a typical nightclub for our kind.” “Ah. Thanks for explaining. So what I was before this whole ‘little’ thing…” “Vic… I wouldn’t call you vanilla. You’re a kinky bitch, you just didn’t know it at the time.” Beatrice said, walking over and sitting next to me on the other side from where Vic was. I suddenly had two beautiful women either side of me and I could feel my whole body heat up and squirm. “Really?” Vic responded in shock. “Really. Anyway, this place is for the normal customers. Then there are a few big play rooms in the back. There’s a very small medical room, but that doesn’t get used often. The main two rooms are the dungeon and the nursery.” “Medical room?” “Don’t ask Vic. You can look it up later.” Bea laughed. “Can we seeeee?” I used my whiniest voice possible. “Not right now sweetie.” Vic shook her head. “Why not?” “She sounds just like Lucy! Such a whiny little baby!” Grim laughed, Abby joining in a second later. Lucy and I both pouted at Grim at the exact same time, and when we realised what we just did, we started blushing and trying to hide our faces. “I don’t want you to see it yet because I want your first time to be when you come here for the first event…” Vic explained. “Hmph. Okay. Fine.” I pouted again. “Is that it then? A nursery, a dungeon and a small medical room?” “Yeah, the dungeon is adequate for most kinks, and then the nursery is for all the littles of varying ages.” Beatrice answered. “Of varying ages? Abby, you said you’re more of an older toddler, right? Is that common?” Vic turned to Abby once again. “There are generally more babies than toddlers. And a lot more toddlers in nappies than older toddlers in pull ups. There aren’t many littles like me, most are like Grim or Lucy.” She replied. “So… what do you do for work and stuff?” I asked everyone, wanting to move it back to a normal conversation now that we had had more answers about this lifestyle. I could tell they get this a lot, so I didn’t want to overload them with the same questions they must have answered a billion times. And so we chatted amongst ourselves for the next hour. “Right. Time’s up. Time to go home!” Bea said after looking at her watch. “Seriously? It’s over already? How does the time fly by whenever we do this?” Lucy said, taking her latest drink in hand and finishing it off. “Well it was lovely meeting you all. And thank you so much for teaching us so much about all this.” Vic said on behalf of the both of us. “So does that mean we have some new members to our little club at the next event?” Grim asked. As he asked that, I saw Lucy perk up, her eyes practically shining at this point as she stared at us, waiting for our answer. She was clearly hoping we’d say yes. “Assuming little Nia here wants to come, then we’d be happy to…” “YES! PLEASE?” I blurted out, cutting her off. “There’s your answer…” Beatrice laughed. “Right, well why don’t you quickly exchange phone numbers, then you can all bugger off home so we can get back and I can start cooking.” Lucy quickly pulled her phone out and we all exchanged phone numbers. Well… they all did, I don’t have a number, so we gave them Vic’s. Abby left first, then Lucy and Grim left together, leaving Bea, Vic and I alone again. “Right, give me two minutes to quickly shut everything off and we can get going.” Bea said, walking off towards the bar. “I’ll get you a phone so you can text your friend.” Vic whispered to me. “Really?” My face lit up as I stared up at this figure of beauty and compassion. “Really. Can’t have you two having conversations all the time, hogging my phone. I’ll get one tomorrow for you, then you can text her from that. I saw how well you got on with Lucy, so I’m hoping you become good friends. Maybe you could even have a playdate…” I lunged forward and pressed my face in her boobs. My safe space. “Umm… Bea…?” I asked, nervously. “Yes sweetie?” She said, turning around in her seat as Vic started the car. We had gotten in the car after everyone had left, me in the back like last time with the two ‘adults’ up front. Which still made me laugh, as I’m hundreds of years older than both of them combined, but I was apparently the ‘baby’. But still… It felt good. After all the little talk… I was craving something. I had passed the opportunity on the way here… and thankfully after talking openly about it all afternoon, I felt a bit more confident about asking about it. “I… umm… can you… umm… conjure stuff?” I asked, twiddling my thumbs nervously. “Depends on what it is.” “I… umm…” My face must have been even more red as she smiled down at me. “D’aww, I think I know what you want, sweetpea. Good job I thought to bring one with me…” She reached into her bag and pulled something out. Before I could look at what she had in her hands, she thrust forward and placed something in my open mouth. My eyes widened in shock. How had she known? “I saw how much you loved it back at home. Figured you’d want it eventually. And hey, if you didn’t then it just sat in my bag for when you did. Was I right?” I nodded and sucked the dummy in my mouth, a feeling of calm washing over me as Vic pulled out onto the road and headed home. “Right, someone probably needs a change. Vic, why don’t you go change your baby whilst I start dinner?” Beatrice said as Vic turned the engine off. We had pulled up in front of the estate and I couldn’t wait to get back in. “Hey! I’m dry!” I snapped back, trying to defend myself. I heard a little murmur coming from the front seat, followed by a warm feeling. But it wasn’t like they had turned the heating on in the car or anything. No… this wasn’t an all-over feeling of warmth. This was centralised. A specific spot. …Between my legs. “BEATRICE!” I yelled, spitting the dummy out of my mouth. “Now she needs a change…” “You didn’t!” Vic laughed. “Someone’s a soggy little monster…” Bea teased before quickly hopping out the car so I couldn’t retaliate. “Come on then babygirl, let’s go get you changed. Don’t worry… I’ll make sure Beatrice makes you something super yummy for dessert for doing that to you.” Vic smiled at me, making my heart melt. Honestly, she had me at babygirl. I didn’t care about dessert (Although fucking shoot me if I ever turn down dessert). I was already melting inside and feeling all squirmy and warm and soft as she talked down to me like I was 5. “Yay!” I said, climbing out the back seat of the sports car, walking around and grabbing Vic’s hand, which was waiting for me to guide me into the estate. “Umm… VIC?” I heard Bea call out from inside. “Yes, Bea?” She replied. “You may want to come in… quick…” She let go of my hand, and suddenly I felt… lost. Like… I didn’t want to be apart from her… I watched as she rushed into the house, clutching her purse, so I ran after her, trying my best to run as fast as I could with this swollen nappy between my legs. Rushing into the house, I saw Vic first, standing there in the Grand Hall, looking up at something on the balcony. Beatrice stood off to the side looking at me. And before I could go any further, Beatrice shook her head at me, as if saying ‘no’ about something. Then she nodded her head to the side and I figured she didn’t want me being seen, so I quickly hid behind a pillar, resting my back against the cold, hard stone. “So… Victoria…” A sinister voice called out from the balcony above us. “Thorne...” She replied, with all the disgust she could muster in her voice. “What are you all doing here?” ‘Thorne? Wait… where do I know that name?’ ‘GREG! No wait… Steve? Fred? It was some generic name… began with a G I think. George? No… oh wait, Geoff!’ That’s where I remembered that name before. The cultist who renamed himself ‘Thorne EdgyMcDarkside’ or whatever it was. I still couldn’t help but laugh at their ridiculous names. Like… they legally changed it to these stupid edgy names… like who the Hell does that? ========================================================= I'm so glad you all love the new additions! And as this is the first in my monster-verse series, maybe we'll see some of these faces again! 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!

Part Two; "New Year's Baby Girl" I was only fifty percent sure I’d come to the right house party. The thing about the strip of frat and sorority houses on campus was, nearly all of them had some kind of celebration going on. My grasp of the Greek alphabet was shoddy at best, and so when I came upon the Alpha Beta house, I couldn’t be confident it was where Emily had told me to go. ‘Right on campus, just look for the New Years party,’ she had texted me. ‘You can’t miss it–see you there at 11?’ She had deeply underestimated my ability to get lost on a single one-block stretch of road. I picked a house and entered. A bare-chested guy at the door opened it, halfway through a beer and smelling like he’d already drank several. “Uh…” I said. “Alpha Beta?” “WOOO!” he replied, toasting with his cup. Uncertain if that was a yes or a no, I crossed my arms over my chest and entered. It boggled my mind how he could be shirtless and not be cold, even inside–as often as the front door was opening and closing, a cool draft had begun to billow. Taking position in a corner out of everyone’s way, I texted Emily again. ‘I think I’m here? A drunk guy let me in.’ She responded with a hand-over-face emoji, which I couldn’t for the life of me parse, so I added, ‘Are you here?’ ‘You’ll see me soon, just don’t tell anyone.’ Her reply was as cryptic as the emoji. I hadn’t seen her since our first meeting, though we’d chatted a few times. My proposal, to finally take her out on a proper date, had been countered with an invitation to this party. While I’d have preferred something more private–a little time together, just to chat and get to know each other–I accepted. Parties weren’t my thing, but I’d been trying to get out more, and this seemed like a good opportunity. I played the part of the wallflower for a solid ten minutes, waiting and watching for Emily, resisting the urge to just bury my face in my phone. I didn’t know anyone, and all the other partygoers were standing in various enclaves, friend groups that I’d never be able to pierce. In a one-on-one conversation, or maybe a game night, I’d have had a good shot at endearing myself to them. In a situation like this, where they moved in packs, I had no chance of picking off a straggler for conversation. Then I saw her–coming down the frathouse stairs, she looked utterly stunning. Her top resembled a sort of halfway between a toga and a shirt, white and billowy, and overtop it she had a blue sash with the year written on it with big, bold letters. She’d adorned her head with a fancy top hat, which almost completed the look, but to cap it all off… My eyes drifted down to her waist, where–completely visible for the world to see–she had on a puffy cloth diaper, held in place with a comically large baby pin. She’d dressed up as Baby New Year, and she looked the part–chubby and adorable, with an enthusiastic smile that almost pulled my gaze away from the diaper-shaped elephant in the room. (How is she not cold?) I wondered. I tried to walk up to say hi, but was overwhelmed by a dozen other partygoers–friends of hers, I had to assume–getting in the way. Compliments on her costume, and general greetings. She made eye contact with me and beamed, but still had to work her way through the thick of acquaintances before she could get to me. Finally, though, she broke free. “Sam, you came!” Eyes wide, I responded, “You’re wearing a–” “New Year’s costume!” she replied, cutting me off. “I just love dressing up for the holidays.” A wink told me everything I needed to know, and I mentally slapped myself for not thinking about discretion. “Well, you look great.” I rubbed at the back of my neck, awkwardly fishing for something to say. Looking down at my own ensemble–jeans and a sweater–I said, “Now I feel a bit underdressed, honestly.” “Everyone else is just in casual clothes,” she said, glancing around the room. (Yeah, but I’m not here with everyone else,) I thought. Knowing better than to stuff my foot in my mouth quite that hard, I said, “So are you in this group? The Alpha Betas?” “No,” she giggled. “This is a frat house, silly; I’d be in a sorority. I’m just friends with some members.” “Oh, right. I–” As I spoke up, music began to thump, and one of the frat bros cheered so loudly I forgot what I’d been saying. “So–how was your Christmas?” I asked. “What?” she replied, raising her voice over the music. “How was your Christmas!” I repeated. “Yes!” she replied, nodding in time with the thumping bass. I could only assume she’d misconstrued my question, so I repeated, “No, how was your Christmas!” “OH!” she said. “It’s kind of loud! Do you want to go somewhere else?” Nodding, I waited for her to lead the way, ultimately moving towards the kitchen where beer, soda, and snacks were laid out. A bowl of cherry red punch sat in the middle, and I eyed it, wondering if it was alcoholic. Deciding it was better to be safe than sorry, I went for the soda. “So–” I started again. “Did you–” “Emily!” someone squealed, and Emily looked over her shoulder to see another girl her age rush up and just about tackle her with a bear hug. “Deirdra!” Emily replied, half-returning the embrace. “How’ve you been?” The two of them fell to chattering, and I shrank back again, waiting for the conversation to pass. They exchanged chit-chat and a few short bits of gossip, before Emily added, “Oh–this is Sam, my friend!” “Oh yeah?” Deirdra asked, turning her gaze to me. “How did you two meet?” Grateful for the segue into the conversation, I started, “Well, Emily was doing a fundraiser for the animal shelter, and–” Dierdra seemed to be listening intently, for a couple seconds at least, until I got about a sentence in. By then, though, a guy had come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist in a hug. “Guess who?” he asked, snickering. “Dummy,” Dierdra responded, rolling her eyes. “You’re supposed to cover my eyes and ask that, Brad.” Brad moved his hands up to her eyes. “Guess who?” They both snickered, and I shrank back once again. It didn’t really matter how we’d met. The three of them–Deirdra, Brad, and Emily–exchanged a bit more conversation while I drained my first cup of soda. Finally, as I refilled my cup, Emily checked her phone, and I thought the conversation with the couple might be ending. Hoping to get a chance to ask her about her choice of costume–or about anything, really, I started to open my mouth. Before I could, she brightened. “Bee’s here! Sam, you have to meet Bee. “B?” I asked. “Like, the letter?” “It’s got a couple ‘E’s,” she replied, smirking. “Come on!” I again followed her, back to where the music was thumping, all the way out to the porch, where I once again found myself wondering, (Is nobody else in the world cold except me?) Bee was, it seemed, a cheerleader or something. I pegged her as athletic at a glance–nobody got that toned naturally–and an exchange with Emily confirmed something about ‘the team’ and ‘the game’. The sounds of conversation and thumping music that filtered from inside were draining my focus by the time Emily prompted me in the conversation. This time, I managed to at least finish recounting the hot chocolate fundraised, and my save with the cups, though my ability to tell a compelling story had been blunted somewhat by social fatigue. To her credit, Bee at least had the courtesy to smile and nod her way through it before politely changing the subject to something she found more interesting. I got the point. Casually excusing myself to the bathroom, I made my way through the thick of the partygoers once more, noting the time–fifteen minutes to midnight. The line for the bathroom was four drunks deep. I sighed. My dorm was only a short walk, and I could tell when my company wasn’t wanted. Taking out my phone, I texted Emily, ‘I’m going to head out. Happy New Year.’ Rather than attempt navigating the party once more, I ducked out the back door and walked around the frat house. It added thirty chilly feet to the walk, but was better than the noise and the chaos, and before long, I was on the sidewalk. A little part of me felt disappointed, but I shoved that down and spoke reason to myself. I could tell when I wasn’t wanted, and– “Sam!” I turned, looking back at the scantily-clad New Year’s Baby in front of me. Unsure what else to do, I waved. “Hey.” “Is something wrong?” she asked, walking away from the house. “Yeah, just–parties aren’t really my thing,” I said. “I figured I’d stop making you babysit me.” She snickered, assuming I’d been joking. “Pun intended?” “Not really.” I shrugged. “I just…I feel like I should go.” Emily didn’t quite frown, but her smile faded into disappointment. “Did something happen when you went to the bathroom?” I shook my head. “Nothing like that, just…I wanted to spend time with you. I don’t know anyone here, and they don’t really want to know me.” She took a step closer towards me, onto the sidewalk. “These are my friends. I’m sure nobody was trying to ignore you.” “That’s not what I’m saying.” I shook my head. “It’s not, like, an intentional snub, it’s just that they don’t know who I am, and they’d rather hear what you, or Brad, or whoever else have been up to–the people they care about. I’m not interesting enough for them to care about me, and I don’t have the energy to try and convince them otherwise.” “It didn’t seem like that when we met.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “That was different.” I pressed my lips into a line, searching for the words. Her face took on a slightly weary aspect. “Because I was wearing a diaper, and they aren’t.” I frowned. “No, because I wasn’t competing for your time; I wasn’t trying to shout over music or being interrupted every time I open my mouth. I like that we have that…shared interest, I guess, but that’s not why I came here. I’m here because I thought you were funny, and kind, and I liked that you work to make the world better–none of that’s affected by what’s in your pants.” She didn’t have a response for a moment, and guilt hit me in that pause between words. I swallowed. “I’m sorry,” I started. “I’m just…not good with crowds, or parties, and–” “No, I’m sorry,” she responded, shaking her head. “I didn’t even think. I just…in my head, I knew hanging out would be fun, and the party would be fun, so I assumed doing both would be more fun. I didn’t think how it would be for you.” I exhaled through my nose in a not-quite laugh. “I wish the math worked out that way.” She gave me a little half-smile. “Want to call tonight a mulligan and try again some other day? Just me and you next time. No competition.” “I’d like that,” I said, shivering. I needed to either go back inside or go home, I was getting cold. Stepping closer, Emily got close to me. “Can I give you a kiss?” All my frustration with the evening vanished. A blush rising up my cheeks, I said, “Um–yeah. Yes.” Emily gave me a hug, and planted her lips on mine, and we kissed. With her arms wrapped around me, for that moment, I felt warm. And, while our lips were together, I heard cheers from inside the party, raucous excitement. She pulled back, eyes sparkling at me. I was just trying to recover my senses. “Sounds like I’m late,” she said, gesturing with her eyes down to her costume. “I’d better get inside, but…Happy New Years, Sam.” ... I finally have a functioning laptop again and am back to writing! It feels so good to be creating again. This was a challenge to write - trying to find a direction to take these characters that didn't just rehash the plot of the first one - and I think I like how it turned out. If you want to support my writing, you can chip in a couple dollars over on Patreon or SubscribeStar! My ability to write as much as I do is entirely thanks to readers like you. https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

Chapter 26: Results WE WERE SENT into Mrs. Hensley’s office by her secretary shortly after arriving. “Come have a seat over here on my couch, ladies,” she told us. Being in the principal’s office was at least slightly less scary. “Okay, I’m swamped this time of year, but I wanted to ensure I took care of getting your schedules done personally due to your… umm…?” “Weird?” I suggested. “Odd,” Hannah suggested with a smile. “Unique,” Mrs. Hensley said with her own smile, “unique circumstances.” “Thank you,” I said simply, and Hannah’s voice overlaid mine. “You two must have been great friends before all of this?” She asked. “Us and our friend Jacob… we were like the three musketeers,” I told her. “We grew up with each other,” Hannah added. “Well, it seems that’s been good for you two now.” She paused to shuffle some papers, “Okay, well, the first thing is to let you know what your powers testing showed.” Hannah squeaked and started to shake just a little bit. “Hannah, since you haven’t been told anything yet, let’s start with you.” She paused and pressed a few times on the tablet she held, “First, you’re a Paradigm Level 2. You’re at genius intellect levels mentally and about as strong as a normal human can get. Next, you can sense emotions from others and discern who is feeling what. We label that as an Empath Level 2 talent. Next, you seem to be Level 2 in Danger Cognition. Your main abilities seem related to the Pyrokinetic blasts you can make. They rated you a Level 5 in Pyrokinesis. Your blasts seem to reach around 1500 degrees Celsius, and you can pinpoint them to the accuracy of a dime at one-hundred feet. You also have a Telekinesis ability that we rate at Level 2. Tests show you can lift up to two hundred pounds from a distance of fifty feet. The power is fairly useful since you seem to have a very fine level of control as if you’re using your hand. The final thing they noted was that you seem to be a Regen Level 5. Meaning you should heal very well if you get hurt.” I smiled at Hannah, “You’re a tough cookie!” “Yes, you are,” Mrs. Hensley agreed. “Don’t get overconfident around here, though,” she advised. Hannah nodded and squeezed me, “What about this one?” “Sofia’s tests were interesting. We already had a foundation with hers from Los Alamos, of course,” she smiled at me, “but we can test here beyond theirs. The device you went through last night is one of a kind built by one of the technomages we have on staff that has helped our accuracy improve. So far, it seems to give about the same results as our established tests, but once in a while picks up on some powers that slip by us. We may ask Sofia to undergo additional tests in a few weeks to confirm the device.” “What changed?” I asked. “Well, obviously, your main talent is your Avatar talent. We agree with Level 5 from your previous testing there. Esens Level 3 also did not change,” I nodded. She took a deep breath and said, “We’re labeling you a Copyist Level 1 because you seem to be able to take on Hannah’s talent. We think this is likely due to your nursing from her?” She shook her head, “Not really sure. It lets you have the equivalent of a Level 1 Pyrokinesis with your blasts.” “Cool,” I said off-handedly. It was kind of, in a way. I wondered if I stopped nursing if I would still have it, though? “Next, your Paradigm Level stayed at Level 4, borderline Level 5. One of our technicians was leaning towards five in his assessment. But, the device went with four, so we’re sticking with that.” Not much had changed so far; how she spoke before made me wonder about my Magic level. “The last power that showed up obviously is your Magic power. Mrs. Raspin and the device seemed to think you’re a Level 7 here.” I looked at her and said, “You’re joking, right?” She shook her head, “I’m afraid not. It’s probably partially due to Caireen being involved. Still, you fit our definition simply by how you interact with Ley Lines. Mrs. Raspin noted that you also blew through her protection circle easier than anyone else she’s had before.” She sighed and seemed to age a decade in her posture. I watched her pull her glasses off her face as she looked at me, “Sofia, I have to implore you to be very careful with your use of magic. Level 7 Magic abilities are exceedingly rare. We’ve only had a couple dozen at Bechtel since the school was founded at that level or greater. Those levels of magic very often lead to self-destruction... On the other hand, you have more power at your fingertips than almost anyone else.” I nodded, “The whole with great power thing…?” Hannah squeezed me reassuringly again. “So, did the device come up with any other results?” Mrs. Hensley nodded, “Age regression seems to be a common side-effect with high-level paradigms, so the device was designed to pinpoint the exact age of a student. Hannah, you’re showing up as being 16.” “Wait, what?” Hannah asked. “I feel like I got older… not younger?!?!” Mrs. Hensley shrugged, “I’ll be honest, the device hasn’t been wrong yet. But, I think you may be perceiving the changes brought about by your Paradigm trait?” “And what about me?” I squirmed. She looked at me and gave me a kind smile like she was about to pronounce a death sentence or something. “Well, this is where the device and our doctors really can’t make up their minds. So the Device is saying eighteen months.” I nodded, “That’s what the doctor said earlier,” I sighed, “but...?” “But the doctors think you could be more like right at twenty to twenty-two months based on your dentition, height, and skeletal structure.” “So, are you changing my GEID data?” I asked. She shrugged, “I’m going to leave that up to you. We probably should split the difference and change it to twenty months. However, I have seen enough out of the machine to believe it’s probably more accurate at eighteen months.” Hannah squeezed me in a hug, and I just nodded, “Go ahead and change it to eighteen months, I guess… I definitely qualify for free everything at restaurants now, right?” Hannah laughed behind me, “Somehow, I don’t think your appetite is what they have in mind for ‘kids eat free.’” Mrs. Hensley cracked a small smile herself. “There’s one other thing that the Device did seem to confirm on you, Sofia... We can rerun the test in a few months, but the results indicate that you aren’t aging.” “I kind of figured that. I guess I’ll spend a lifetime as a baby.” I felt a tear going down my cheek, which Hannah wiped away and kissed the top of my head. “Hannah, I won’t be surprised to see you reach eighteen again with your body and then freeze at a certain age. The doctors have made notes that they’ll test you both again in three months.” Hannah nodded. “Well, here are your new GEIDs and your official student IDs,” she said, handing over two new cards to us. “Sofia, do you have your old GEID so I can destroy it?” I nodded and reached into my storage place for my purse and to give it to her. She smiled at me and said, “You both have great pictures on these!” “Okay, now that we have all your test results, I think we need to talk about your coursework. You were almost done with high school and taking very advanced courses.” I sighed and nodded, “So it’s official, back to preschool for me?” She laughed, “No, but I think it would do both of you good to consider this a chance to explore some of our more specialized coursework. Also, because of your abilities in your other subjects, I think you two could benefit from working on this for more than six months or even a year.” Hannah nodded, “So sophomores...?” I couldn’t blame her for trying, even with the discussions on Sunday about us being freshmen. Mrs. Hensley looked thoughtfully but shook her head. “Because you’re coming in so late this year and already rooming on the freshmen floor, I think it would be better for you both just to go ahead and be freshmen.” “I’ll never make it to college!” Hannah groaned. “We will be sure that you work on some coursework over the next couple of years that will make it to where you can enter college as at least a junior. So it’ll make up for that a little bit,” Hensley said. “I guess,” I heard her grouse behind me. I leaned into her and turned around to give her a hug. “Thanks, Sofia,” she told me. We spent the next hour putting together our two schedules as best as possible. We both ended up with Costume Design I, Powers Fundamentals, Power Exploration, and Calculus II. Separately my schedule listed Magic I, Intro to Magic Theory, Mythical Fundamentals, and an Advanced Martial Arts class without her. Hannah would split off and had Esens I, World History, Intro to Psychic Arts, and a Firearms Basics class on her schedule. I wanted to take the Firearms class too, but there just wasn’t room in my schedule. As it was, we would both have a class after dinner each day. Mrs. Hensley tried tweaking the schedule as best as possible to allow us to meet up at least every other hour, even if we didn’t have classes together. “Thank you for your help with this,” Hannah said politely as we wrapped up. “It’s my pleasure,” she told us both. “Try and make it by the bookstore in the next couple of hours before they close so you can get your materials and supplies.” “Okay,” Hannah said before we left her office and bundled up in our coats. Ms. Hensley’s secretary gave us an odd look as we walked out the doors, past the reception area, and out of the building, where we could see snow flurries starting up. “Remind me to wear tights tomorrow!” I said to Hannah as I shivered. Suddenly the air around me was warm, though. “What did you do?” I asked her. She looked down at me and shrugged, “I guess I can warm up the air too?” “That’s cool… I guess we don’t need coats when you do that?” I suggested. Suddenly, it was cold again, and I glared at her. “Well, I haven’t quite got the knack for that yet. But, maybe you can learn a spell.” She said with a bashful smile. Caireen said, ‘there is one, but I think tights would be good until spring comes anyway.’ I just sighed, “Where are we going now?” “The bookstore, like she said?” “Are you going to make it any longer than my diaper is?” I asked. For once, I noticed it was squishy without someone else telling me. “Our room first?” She said with a grimace. I nodded. Unfortunately, Trident seemed to be the furthest building away from anything! Hannah walked quickly, though, and it wasn’t too long before Hannah carried me through the doors and sat me down on my feet in the lobby. Ms. Lang stopped us as we passed her room and said, “There were a bunch of boxes that came for you two today. I took the liberty of putting them by your door.” “Thanks,” Hannah said and smiled at me. “Shall we go see what our mommies sent us?” I smiled, “I’m hoping for cookies!” She laughed and patiently waited while I walked beside her up the stairs to the second floor on my own two feet. It wasn’t that I moved that slowly; I just had a very wet diaper that seemed to have gravity trying to pull it off my body, even with the help of the onesie. I grimaced since my skirt seemed to be having issues too. ‘Caireen, do you think you could make some of these outfits with the skirt attached to a onesie?’ ‘Sure,’ she seemed to smile at me, ‘I thought it was a good idea yesterday too, but I didn’t want to push you into that one.’ ‘Thanks, but I think it’ll be easier to deal with for us.’ Walking down the hallway to our room, I noticed the dorm seemed almost eerily quiet, with all our friends and fellow students off at their classes. A large pile of boxes sat in front of the door to our room. “Wow, our moms went a bit overboard?” Hannah suggested. I looked at the pile as she unlocked our door and shook my head. Hannah and I dragged the boxes in and began opening them up. We put the contents on the ground where I could help sort them. My mom had sent me several large packages of diapers, dozens of baby bottles, pacifiers, bibs, clothes, hair supplies, shampoo, and toothpaste. She had even included some stuffed animals - including the bear Hannah had given me in the hospital. I shrugged at most of it as boring necessities. Many of them had already been provided by Caireen and the school. The items I did treasure were framed photos she sent. There were the pictures we had taken Saturday, pictures of our family before my emergence, and even pictures of my grandparents and extended family. With Caireen’s help, I took a moment to magically hang all of them above my desk. I had a few tears going down my face with homesickness as I looked at a picture of Lily and myself from the other day. In another box, I found a pink Disney Princess backpack with Belle, Cinderella, and Rapunzel. Mom had thoughtfully stocked the front pocket with pens and pencils, but I couldn’t help but notice the kids’ backpack was huge compared to my body! Even being one of the smaller kids’ backpacks, it was two-thirds my size! I looked at it thoughtfully and then instinctively used magic to make it shrink in its outward appearance. ‘Caireen, how do I make it larger inside like you’ve done with this room?’ I could feel her pride as she instructed me on how to do it. I then made the main compartment much more extensive than any regular backpack and divided it into several sections. So I could keep spare diapers, clothes, books, and maybe a bottle or two and still have some extra space. Hannah had stopped opening boxes to watch then, “That is so cool!” I smiled, “And the backpack fits me and looks’ totes adorbs,’ right?” She laughed at me, “Please don’t ever say ‘totes adorbs’ again?” “Why, I am, according to Esmie!” “I am never letting you talk to her again!” I just laughed, “You want me to do this to your backpack too?” Her mom had sent her own well-used purple Jansport backpack out to her. “Please?” I just smiled and motioned for her to hand it to me. She grabbed a few things from the main compartment first, and then I began working to help her have the space for stuff for her and anything she might want to carry for me in there too. It was now the world’s best student backpack and diaper bag a young mom could need! “Thank you, Sofia!” she said with a big smile, and she stocked it for herself. Next, we sorted the rest of the makeup, clothes, and other supplies her mom had sent her. “They did send cookies!” Hannah said as she opened the final box. Inside was a package of microwave popcorn, homemade cookies, and even some dried red chile pods! Nearly an hour later, she had changed my diaper, nursed me, and we were on our way to the bookstore with her backpack on her shoulders. I also wore mine and enjoyed the novelty of walking across campus on my own two legs. Mrs. Hensley had mentioned that our IDs held money that our parents had loaded into them and any money we might earn on-campus jobs to spend there. Following the directions we were given, we soon found the campus store. “Whoa…” Hannah said when we entered the doors. “I can’t really see anything,” I told her. She leaned over and picked me up so I could see. From a taller vantage point, I could see that we were in a store that would rival Walmart for supplies. It seemed to have electronics and components in one section of the store, making even an old Fry’s store seem pitiful. Hannah noticed traditional shopping carts were sitting next to the door. I waited in her arms while she grabbed one, put the seat down, and then set me down. Unlike a regular cart seat, this one seemed to sense a baby and automatically buckled a belt across my waist. I frowned, “This isn’t fair!” Hannah laughed, “You haven’t been in one of these since you emerged, have you?” I shook my head, “Mom never made me go into Walmart or the grocery store. The closest we might have been would have been the stores on Saturday, but you all pushed us in the stroller or let us walk?” She smiled reassuringly, “I promise I’ll let you out if you want to look at something.” I huffed and spent the next ten minutes looking at her rather than the store from my fixed viewpoint. She would grab items from shelves, which would be my only real opportunity to see what was there. “Please let me out?” I asked. She sighed, “Alright, but you have to stay with me!” I nodded. She poked at a button on the buckle and released me from the restraint before setting me down on the ground. I still couldn’t see past the aisle we were on, but at least I could look around it! As we followed the maze, I got the impression you would never have to leave the campus for anything. First, there were your basic necessities for hygiene and groceries. Then there were whole sections of clothing, movies, games, electronics, computers, and finally, the books and supplies we came for! It took us a half hour to look at our course schedules and the required texts to find all of the books for us. Next, we found some needed supplies for the courses. For example, my magic courses required specific items, and Hannah needed a gi for her beginning martial arts class. Finally, we carefully split each other’s things into two separate piles at the cashier. “Why aren’t you the cutest little girl?” The cashier asked of me. I smiled, “So I hear.” She looked blankly at me for a moment but processed our items, “Okay, that’ll be six hundred and ninety-four dollars,” she said with a smile at Hannah with my pile. Somehow, she seemed to be missing me handing her my student ID. “Ma’am, that stuff is mine; here’s my ID.” The lady looked at me suddenly like I’d grown two other heads. “Umm…” “I’m a student,” I reassured her. She looked like she was about to faint as she ran my card and passed me a receipt. I had only purchased my books and a few other supplies. I pulled my backpack off my shoulders, took the shopping bags she had placed the items in, and shoved it all quickly inside my backpack. I zipped it up and put it back on my shoulders. I couldn’t help but grin at the lady as she looked like she was about to faint. She caught herself, though, and quickly rang up Hannah without saying another word. She’d picked up more items than I had. Still, she was also able to throw everything in her enlarged backpack. Hannah picked me up and placed me on her hip. At the same time, surreptitiously, she checked my diaper, “Come on, Sofia, let’s go find the restroom before we head back to our room.” I watched the lady practically have her eyes pop out of her head as Hannah carried me into a nearby ladies’ room. We both giggled as she pulled down the changing table on the wall. ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 
Thank you for reading! Please press the ‘Like’ Button if you’ve enjoyed it! Comments are always super appreciated as well! If you're someone who must finish a good story 'now,' consider purchasing the full book on Amazon Kindle! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTBTTGX1 I will be posting a chapter about every other day until the complete 62 Chapters and the Epilogue are reposted.

BB’S Nursery and Day Care Chapter 1 It was 11pm on a Saturday night and Tommy had been a high school graduate for little over 9 hours having walked across the Townsfield High stage around earlier in the day. He was happy high school was over. He was happy to be off to college in a couple of months. He was also a bit drunk. His best and really only friend was leaving in the morning for Air Force basic training. His Friend Brad had always wanted to be a pilot and fly anything that the Air Force would let him. They shared that dream until it was obvious that Tommy would not be meeting any minimum physical requirements. Brad was 6’2”, athletic and super smart while Tommy stopped growing at 5’ unlike his father who was over 6 ft. tall. Not that Tommy wasn’t smart, he was, and he was also in good shape. He just didn’t fit the pilot mold. No amount of exercising was going to add those extra inches and he let that dream die last summer and buckled down on college. He did not begrudge his friend his dreams. He was very happy for Brad. Tommy learned to accept a different dream. If he couldn’t fly planes then he could go to school and learn to design them. Once the summer was over he was going to Stanford on a full ride scholarship that he worked his butt off to earn. There was a lot a school in front of him but it was exciting. Neither Brad nor Tommy had really ever drank before. Heavy drinking parties were not on the agenda for their future and they turned down most of the invitations or left early from the last semester’s parties. So Tommy was not aware of how several shots of stolen Tequila from the liquor cabinet in Brad's dad’s home office would slow down his reflexes and give him a slight fuzziness. He felt good, real good and did not notice any real impairment. Brad had to be up and on the way to the airport by 5am so they hugged it out, promised to e-mail when they could and Tommy headed home. Tommy drove well. Only a seasoned officer would have noticed anything and probably let it go. He lived in a small subdivision of nice homes on large lots and was close to home when the large grey tabby cat darted in front of him. Caught by surprise he swerved to the right and tapped the brakes. No problem. At least that was what he planned to do. He swerved to the right and instead of tapping the breaks he nicked the accelerator. The car, his Mom’s car, shot forward and into the adjacent yard. The impact with the curb yanked the wheel from his hands and the car slewed sideways. The car ripped through a long length of pristine white fencing, crushed all of Mrs. Nelson’s award winning roses, clipped the backend of the sky blue Mercedes parked in the driveway and came to an airbag deploying stop against a moderately sized oak tree. The cat watched the whole event with the detachment that only a cat can really display then sauntered off into the night not aware of, or caring about the life altering events it had just precipitated. Tommy was stunned first by the impact with the tree. Then the airbag went off. Both hit as one as far as Tommy ever remembered. He was stunned, not quite unconscious but only vaguely aware that the engine had shut off and the only real noise was the ticking of the engine and some hissing noise as the engine coolant leaked out on to hot engine parts. He was jerked into more awareness as his door was opened and the scared angry face of Mrs. Nelson appeared. Mrs. Nelson was just shutting off the living room lights in preparation for bed when she heard what sounded like a major collision happening in her front yard. She grabbed her phone and hurried to the front door. She stared in shock at how much damage could be done to her yard so quickly. Her rose bushes were flattened, the fence she and James Wilder built twelve years ago was in splinters and her car’s rear lights were smashed. She did not recognize the car in the dark poorly lighted yard. Steam billowed up from the engine as she approached the car. She was angry and scared as she looked through the window. The driver was still and it looked like blood was dripping from the driver’s forehead. She opened the door ready to yell at the driver. "What do you....." she started yelling. She never finished her sentence as the driver looked up at her and she knew that face well. Her anger was instantly replaced with concern. "Tommy" she gasped. "Tommy are you ok?" Tommy knew Mrs. Nelson well. She was a family friend. He spent many a summer hour mowing her lawn and doing odd jobs for her over the years. "I think so" he stuttered his head slowly clearing. Then he panicked. "Mrs. Nelson are you ok? I didn't hurt anybody did I?" he almost yelled. "No, my boy you only hurt some stuff. Nobody was around to be hurt." She replied with a slight smile. Just like Tommy to worry about others first. "Just stay still, don't try to get out of the car. You could be more hurt then you know". She reached for the phone but stopped short of dialing 911. Still far in the distance she could hear the sirens. Knowing her neighbors someone had called 911 before she could even leave the house. She pulled out a handkerchief and pressed it to his cut forehead and had him hold it tight. As the sirens grew louder she heard Tommy begin to sniffle a bit. "I'm so sorry about you flowers Mrs. Nelson, I know how much you love them". "It ok Tommy, they are only flowers. You are more important right now" she said giving him a peck on the cheek. The ambulance arrived first, followed by the fire truck and a police car. The paramedic gently but firmly pushed Mrs. Nelson out of the way as she tended to Tommy and started asking questions. Mrs. Nelson let herself fade to the back of the crowd. She had smelled the alcohol on Tommy’s breathe. She knew where this going to go. She headed into the house. Mrs. Nelson had a call to make and some preparations to take care of. She already knew what was needed to be done and got started right away. As the door shut behind her she thought about how tired she was of roses anyway. Might be time for some daisies and lilies. +++++++++++++++ James and his wife April were coming back from date night dinner, movie and some serious parking lot kissing and heavy petting. Both were looking forward to continuing the evening in the privacy and comfort of the bedroom. As the neared the house they could see the lights of a police car and an ambulance in front of Mrs. Nelsons house. You could see the shattered fence and flattened rose bushes. James thought to himself that the poor sorry bastard that did that was in for a world of hurt as Mrs.’s Nelson loved those flowers and the awards given out each year for the Counties best roses. James heard a gasp next him and April shouted “Stop the car, its Tommy!” Even before the car stopped moving April was out of the car and running to the ambulance. Tommy was visible sitting at the rear of the ambulance while a paramedic was holding something up to his forehead. April slipped by the police officer and the paramedic (like only a determined mother can) and was soon hugging her son to her chest and peppering the paramedic with questions about Tommy’s obviously cut forehead. James quickly parked the car and headed for the ambulance. Before he got there he heard Officer Benton call out “Mr. Wilder can I speak with you for a moment, Please?” James turned and waited as the police officer walked up to him. He knew Officer Rick Benton from bowling leagues James and April participated in over the years. He barely opened his mouth before Rick said “Relax, Tommy is ok, just a little cut from the airbag. Nobody else was involved, nobody else got hurt.” James shoulders slumped a little as the tension left him with a relived sigh. Continuing Rick said “You can take him home now but I need you to come back right away, we need to talk charges.” “What…why?” James stuttered shocked and scared all over again for his son. “When I got here there was strong smell of alcohol from Tommy, I had no option but to give him a breathalyzer test. He failed, just barely but he failed. Normally he would be ticketed for DUI, reckless driving and destruction of private property and maybe hauled in for the night, but Tommy has been very cooperative so that won’t be necessary” Rick said softly. “Drinking, Tommy? Are you sure? It does not sound like him.” James replied hoping that it was some big mistake. “This will sink his scholarship, everything he’s worked for” his voice rising in pitch as his stress and anxiety shot through the roof. “Calm down James” he said reaching out and grabbing James’s shoulder. “Everything is going to be ok. Take him home and come back and we can talk more.” James nodded, squared his shoulders and went and gathered up his wife and son in a big hug before leading them to the car and home. The ride home was silent and very short. April took Tommy to his room to get into some pajamas. Then after a quick trip to the bathroom he was tucked into his bed and due to the pain pills the paramedic gave him he was asleep almost before his Mom closed the bedroom door. ++++++++++++++++++++++ James quickly returned to Mrs. Nelson’s house. The ambulance was gone along with all the concerned neighbors. It was quiet as James entered the yard and saw both Rick and Mrs. Nelson talking on the house porch. Mrs. Nelson looked at James as he crossed the yard. She knew this next bit was going to be hard on James and she had already made arrangements in the house for after the police officer had left. “Good news James, Mrs. Nelson, and Judge Sanderson have already worked out a community service agreement” Rick said smiling. He loved it when something could worked out so that young people get a second chance without screwing their lives up first. “Tommy will need to work off the car repairs at some daycare Mrs. Nelson used to work for before she retired. After that any additional money will be toward fence repair. On the weekends Tommy will work as Mrs. Nelson’s gardener until the rose garden is either repaired or replaced. As long as the Judge hears a positive response from Mrs. Nelson by August 14 confirming that Tommy has met his obligations he will have all charges dropped. My understanding is that this will give Tommy 2 weeks to get Stanford and start his college life” Rick said slapping James on the back. “I have got to go but someone will around with the paperwork from the Judge sometime tomorrow. I will need everyone to sign it. Like I said everything will be ok James” He said cheerfully. As he walked away he stated “You must know the Judge well to call so late at night Mrs. Nelson. Must be a real friend.” “We worked together a long time ago when we graduated college together” she answered never taking her eyes from James’s face. As the cop car rolled away the tears started to fall from James’s eyes and their apparent age dipped with every tear. James’s voice rose in pitch as he cried “My Tommy, my baby, how could you do this to him?” Mrs. Nelson reached out and took him by the hand and gently led her into the house. “Let’s talk inside Janice, we do not need to be having this talk on the front porch” she said softly and gently like you would to an emotional child. Janice slipped a comforting thumb into her mouth and mumbled a sob filled “Ok, Nanny” and let herself be pulled into the house. When the front door was closed she gently guided Janice into the kitchen where she plucked a towel of the counter and large pink plastic baby bottle filled with milk from a bottle warmer. The milk was nicely warmed up from its frozen state. Once she knew it was Tommy that crashed into her yard she knew that Janice would need comforting and had removed a pouch of frozen breast milk she kept for these type occasions. The last such occasion being 2 years ago when James’s wife April had the breast cancer scare. Turned out to be benign but still caused several sleepless night before the diagnosis. She walked down a hallway and began unbuttoning her blouse as she went. “Janice, please follow me to the nursery” she called lightly over shoulder. Still sniffling and trying unsuccessfully to hold back her tears she said “I’m coming Nanny” the voice sounding all world like a 5 year old girl. Mrs. Nelson entered the nursery and sat on the upper cushion of a two tiered couch. She had the couch made many years ago for Janice and herself. While she long ago stopped lactating the simple act of suckling was an important bond between them, Nanny and child. She laid her bra and blouse over the arm of the couch as Janice settled her large form onto the larger lower portion. Now fully in Nanny mode she guided Janice’s head to her chest and sighed as Janice’s mouth closed on her nipple. The soft gentle sucking motion calmed the child inside and soon the tears and the sniffling began to slow. Nanny stroked her hair and told her over and over “Everything was going to be alright baby, calm down sweetie, Nanny loves you” and other loving soothing words. The tears and the trembling finally stopped. “Are you thinking about Tina again?” a slight nod. Not ready to give up her comforting nipple to answer with words. “Tommy is not Tina, Tina came from a broken family, a horrible family. She decided that staying a baby was safer. She was so loved by her Nannies and taken care. She found people who loved her for the first time in her entire life. You know the program is very different now. After you and Tina we changed everything. Tommy will have a wonderful summer being Tammi Lee and I promise she will spend most of it as my little granddaughter. She will fine. I promise.” Nanny said as she gently stroked Janice’s cheek. “He will leave to Stanford and be Tommy through and through. A bit wiser and with a new prospective on women. But will be Tommy not Tammi.” A short pause and then “Are you ready for your Baba?” Janice let the nipple slip from her mouth. With a little smile she cooed “Yes Nanna, Baba..Baba”. Nanny smiled and held the bottle for Janice. Janice closed her eyes and started to drink the warm breast milk. It was comfort and peace. There were several wet nurse Nannies working for BB’s so getting fresh breast milk was never really an issue. Watching the child drinking her milk filled Nanny with the ever present worry of whether or not Janice would be able to pick up the outer layers of James again. This was not like two people living in the same body. At the heart of James was Janice, a five year girl (with some baby tendencies when feeling a lot of stress and anxieties) that can’t grow up. But Janice was smart, with a lot of practice and training and tears she was able to pull James around her like a coat and allow herself to be the grown up man she would have been if she never would have been sent to BB’s so long ago. She wanted more than being a five year old girl but couldn’t grow up. What was done to her so long ago locked her in place. But by wearing her James coat and pretending to grow up she was able to go to college and use her big brain to become an engineer. She even fell in love with April and had a family. It was a complicated balance of who she was before the regression, who she became at BB’s and who she wanted to be. All under the watchful eye of her Nanny. Janice was her responsibility and she would always be there for her. Always. When her bottle was finished Nanny used her towel to wipe a little slobber and milk from Janice’s lips and urged the child to sit up. “Mommy April will be mad when she finds out what you want to do to Tommy Nanny” she said quietly and with trepidation. “Don’t worry child, your mommy will be fine with it eventually. It will be my problem. You just be the supportive husband and father you always are.” “Yes, Nanny.” They got up and Mrs. Nelson slipped her blouse back on and buttoned it up. “Go ahead and kiss your friends good night, you need to get back home soon”. Janice clapped her hands together and skipped across her nursery. While she rarely needed to spend time in it anymore. It was undoubtedly hers. The last time she slept in the crib and was diapered for the evening was when Mommy April was diagnosed with cancer and Janice couldn’t face the thought of losing her Mommy/Wife. She regressed and needed an evening of being the baby without cares or worries. She reached into the overly large crib and pulled up a fairly beat up stuffed bear. It was her bear from before she became Janice. Her real mommy bought that for her when she was actually five years old and she loved it. It was a Smokey the bear stuffy. His hat and shovel were long gone to the years that have passed but the often repaired bear was very huggable. She hugged the bear and gave it a kiss and said “I luv you smokie.” She then tucked it back under the blanket and then picked up her Raggedy Ann doll. This doll was the doll she was forced to carry around long ago when she arrived at BB’s. She fell in love with it eventually. Annie became a friend and confidant over the years. She listened to problems and issues that Janice was not comfortable sharing with Smokie, some things just can’t be shared with boys. She hugged the doll close and whispered “Please take care of Tommy, I love him so much and want him to be the boy I could never be” louder she said “Goodnight Annie, luv you too.” Janice walked out of the nursery, slowly pulling on her James layers. She needed to get home. She had a wife that would need comforting and support for tomorrow. Back in the living room James leaned over and kissed Mrs. Nelson’s cheek. “Goodnight Edna, please take care of my Tommy” James whispered his voice already deepening. Using her first name was a bit of a ritual between them. Only James would be comfortable enough to use it. It was one of the harder things for Janice to do and it was one of the last layers of her James coat. “I will James. Give this card to your wife and tell her to be there tomorrow at 9am.” She said handing James a business card that read BB’s Nursery and Daycare and had the address and the name of the current Nursery Director Ms. Valentine. “The day care van will be there to pick up Tommy at 11:00 am. Take the time to reassure Tommy that everything will be ok. If you wish to tell him you went through something like this when you got in trouble with the law go ahead. Above all stress that it is important for him to do as he is told and things will go much easier for him. “Don’t give him any hints on what is coming. He won’t understand.” She reached up and stroked James‘s cheek and said “Don’t worry everything will be ok.” With that last statement she gently pushed him out the door. +++++++++++++++++++++ James walked home with a heavy heart. He was scared but he also knew that Nanny (always Nanny in his mind anyway) would take care of Tommy. He refused to let memories of those days at BB’s overwhelm him. He had to be strong for April. He opened the door and was immediately slammed into by a slightly hysterical April. “I have been waiting for you, what took so long?” she cried as she wrapped him up tight. He led her to the couch were they sat in almost a complete reverse of his time at Mrs. Nelson’s house. He held her tight and ran his fingers through her long blond hair. His turn give comfort and love. He kissed a few tears away. “Tommy failed his sobriety test. I guess he must have been drinking at some graduation event or something. Combine that with the accident and he is lucky he’s not spending the night in Jail” James states with a sigh. “I don’t believe it. Tommy is not some wild boy out drinking it up. They probably don’t know how use the damn breathalyzer. Just trying to make an example out a new high school graduate.” She spat venomously. “The test was administered by Rick. He is the only reason that Tommy is not downtown spending the night” James interjected before April could get deep into one of her patented diatribes. “He was going to be charged with a DUI, reckless driving and destruction of private property. Rick told me that they usually haul you in for the night.” “This will end his scholarship! Tommy will be devastated when he wakes up tomorrow.” She cried and started sobbing in James’s arms. Janice pulled her James coat tighter and held her as she wept. “Edna made a call and worked out a deal with Judge Sanderson. Tommy will need to do a summers worth of community service to pay off the property damages. He will have to work at some nursery and daycare Edna is part owner of. He will get paid wages which will be applied to what he owes. As long as he participates as directed the charges will be dropped and he will be off to Stanford. No record of any kind.” He said squeezing her tightly. “It won’t be a carefree easy summer but it beats the alternative.” April’s sobs slowly stopped and she said “Edna took care of it? She reached out on her own and took care of Tommy for us? God I love that women!” She paused and continued “You know I used to be jealous of Edna. You were always helping her out and spending time with her. I resented all the time she got with you that I didn’t. Over time I realized that you were good for each other and that she needed someone too.” She kissed James and smiled. “Let’s get some sleep. I will talk to Tommy in the morning and you need to meet Edna tomorrow at 9am. I left the business card on the table” He said pulling her to her feet. They moved through the house in a familiar routine. Checking doors, feeding the cat and shutting down the lights. Later they laid in bed in a familiar spoon position. Sleep came slowly for James as Janice’s fears needed to be tamped down again. She knew Tommy would be ok, Nanny promised. But she also knew it would be hard and weird for the boy. She also wanted to go see Tina but knew her grown up size and maleness confused her and she did want to upset her. He sighed and slipped into a dreamless sleep. +++++++++++++++++++ After James left Edna closed the door and sank to her knees. She felt a little badly for Tommy but he did break the law and damage her car. But those were minor issues. She had a growing problem and Tommy was going to be the answer. Leaning against the closed door she spilled more than a few tears of her own for the two boys whose lives they permanently changed so long ago. Janice and Tina was their responsibility even if it wasn’t truly their fault. If she ever found that bastard doctor that ran the experiment she would kill him. Damn the consequences! (This is Chapter 1. I hope to have many parts as we follow Tommy’s summer of fun and find out what happened to James/Janice and who Tina is. And see how April is going to react to Tommy becoming Tammi Lee. This is my first story and I appreciate any feedback (CCApril@Proton.me). I would also like to call out three of my favorite authors from Fictionmania/Daily Diaper. They have written great stories and inspired me to give it a shot. Thank you Mary Beth Sanford, Baby Sofia and Princess Phoebe. I hope you enjoy my stories a fraction as much as I have theirs. Also I have never played a psychologist on TV and I did not stay at a Holiday Inn last night. I’m just trying to write a fun story. If Janice/James personality is upsetting and/or its inaccuracy offends you please feel free to move on.)

*Future me here, this is the first story I wrote on here and therefore, there are many things that are different. First, like many of the other Diaper Dimension stories, this story may contain elements that some may find unnerving or even unsettling to read about. I do not agree with these methods, but I have included them because I also know they make some pretty good fiction. Additionally, there is a soft sequel to this one which can be found at the following link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/90405-dashs-redemption-a-stuffys-tale-and-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-15-complete/ Chapter 1: The Trio in the House “Hey there. I’m Hopper and this is the nursery.” I’m standing in a typical nursery meant for any baby boy. Fully stocked, practical and cute. Little cartoon boats even dot the walls. “It might not be a thing out of place in scores of households in other dimensions, but this isn’t the typical dimension you might have been expecting. Sure, there are cars, postmen, government issues and scandals, the weather still rains and shines alike, and the average person here looks very much like most others do, with one exception; their height. At least compared to most other places. This dimension has come to be known by many names, but I know most in other dimensions refer to this as the Amazon dimension.” I pause for a moment. “Get it? They’re super tall, and that’s the big difference here. Along with their amazing technology, they’re almost twice the size of 90% of the other dimensions out there.” I pause for a moment. “Let me know if I need to take a breath or anything. I know it can be a bit jarring for some at first.” “Me, personally, I don’t really care about those things and the vector energy pathways separating out the dimensions from one another. Leave that to the politicians claiming other worlds and the scientists bridging the gaps. I really only care about a few of my friends and the two other people who live in this house with me; Monica and Charles… well, Charley.” “Now hold still Charley,” a forceful yet calm, sing-song voice echoes through the hallway outside the nursery from the bathroom. “That would be Monica. She’s the head of this house and what people here refer to as a Big. She’s right about average at 10 feet tall and certainly turns heads when walking into a room for her regal and yet almost farmer’s daughter looks. It’s an odd combination, but she definitely makes it work. I know Charley had a bit of a crush on her at one point in the beginning… but that was a long time ago now.” I look at the darkly stained oak crib to my left, standing as just one of the monuments to the changes that had occurred since I had come into this house. I shake my head. Such ideas don’t help anyone. “Despite her being a Big, and all that entails here with the ‘mommy instincts,’” using air quotes as best I can, “she’s sadly probably one of the more level-headed Bigs one would find in this dimension. Most treat their charges as their relative heights would suggest. If that means drooling on the carpet and laughing at silly infantile games, so be it. Monica may stoop occasionally, but Charley is at least still aware of what’s around him currently.” A high-pitched laugh bounces off the corners of the house. It seems pained and joyful at the same time. “Ah… tickle time. Monica’s newfound joy in life with Charles and one of her ‘stooping’ moments.” I listen to the continuing peals of laughter coming from the bathroom. “She must really be going at him today if he’s laughing that much. Probably needed a pick me up this morning. Almost seems like he needs them a bit every once in a while now since… well, Dash.” I shake my head again, now trying to dispel his image out of my head. “Anyway, for all the normies not in the Guinness World Record books or who aren’t natives, I will assume most people you know would be classified like Charley: a Little. I suppose some of the more blessed individuals could be considered in the middle category, but if you’re below 6 feet, don’t even think about trying to pass as a Middle. The Bigs will spot those people a mile away and punish them for lying. Most of the time, by the end, the liars will care more about the rattle in front of them than a few measly inches and the possibility about being labeled as a Middle. Lying is never good, particularly with this society.” “Charley, or Charles back when I first met him, was 5’9” on a good day before he shrunk a few inches on the trip over here, so he never had a chance with the Bigs, which is how he came to be living under Monica’s roof in the first place. Some trip with sapphire? Ruby? Emerald? I can’t remember, but he became just another missing tourist statistic in that tour group. Since then, he’s been Charles, Charley, C-Man, Honey, Sweetie, baby, darling, and a dozen or more names. We’ve been together since almost the beginning, so I would know.” “Too much? That’s fine, just call him Charley. It’s officially Charles but that name went out with the rest of the items considered at all mature.” I take a breath and then continue. “It took some time for us to become friends, but once we did, we became inseparable. Going through all he did, a friend is a critical element. He sought comfort with me, more than anyone else. A bond like that can only grow from such circumstances.” I pause and try not to get emotional over talking about the past. It’s tough when viewing all the changes firsthand. “Anyway, I admired his intellect, stubbornness, reserved dignity, and strong creative streak. He admired my calm, superb listening skills, and if he will admit it or not, my fur.” I pause to emphasize what I had just said. “That’s right, my fur. You see, I’m the third in this little trio, but I’m neither Big nor Little. Not even a Middle. I’m a stuffed animal… a bunny to be more precise. Obvious when you look at me, I know, but it’s an important factor to know before I tell you anymore.” I straighten up and flex out my diminutive fluffy figure. “Name’s Hop, or Hopper. Charley named me that the first day we met. Not the most creative of name choices, but I think he just wanted Monica to leave be that night. If I’m being honest, that name was probably for the best, as it could still be used once Monica’s plans had come to fruition. I see the looks in other carer’s eyes when some of my friends are still being called adult names. A turtle named Gunther can only last so long with a regressed Little. Imagine trying to say that with a pacifier in your mouth or when your teeth have been pulled in the more extreme of cases. It’s not a pretty sight. Not that Hopper is any easier, but it’s at least more passable. But Hop, well, Hop is perfect. Definitely more than Mister Bunny, my original store name you see.” I shake my appendages out from sitting nestled against the crib for some time. “Come on with me. Daily stretching time. You see, a toy here can never be too careful to blend in. Society can’t know about toys being real and all. Imagine the paranoia.” I shudder as I begin to stretch at the mere thought. “Talk about yikes. These people are crazy enough as it is, so you don’t want to add to that pile, but still, you’ve got to take your breaks where you can.” I flex my arms out and check my fragile and more recent stitching under my arm. “Can never be too careful as a toy either. This world is hard for a Little, but it can be an outright deathtrap for a toy…” “Take that Captain Purple Beard!” Monica shouted from the bathroom. “No mommy! Never!” Tickle time had apparently ended. Playing with bath toys always came next. “Moving on… I know not all toys have this life though. When I was at the mall, I met the lost and found toys at night. Some had come accompanying children and others had been with adults or even the kids from the other dimensions. Why someone would bring their kid here is beyond me, but in they came, so losing a toy was pretty easy to do. We always felt bad for the adult toys however, because if any Big caught an adult carrying a toy… well, it’s basically a giant beacon advertising that Little wants to be adopted… Those toys were often never claimed or saw their owners again. Probably for the best from what I’ve seen. A toy can feel just as sad over a loss, you know?” “I couldn’t believe some of the toys in there. They were so high and mighty because they thought they were celebrities. Apparently, their dimension had this whole franchise about toys coming to life. It’s tough to imagine an entire society knowing that toys were truly alive, but it always got confirmed that everyone thought it was just from the mind of a really creative team and not something that could ever truly happen. That is at least once you got them talking for a bit and not just bragging. In the end, if any of those toys actually ever were retrieved, they usually never wanted to come back and preferred their own dimension over ours. Can’t blame them there.” I stretch one ear and then the other, and they flutter slightly as they both reach their furthest point. “Oh yeah. That’s the spot… where was I?” I pause for a moment and collect my thoughts. “Oh, yes! Not every toy is cut out for this dimension, but there are some pretty big positives. In other dimensions, toys are used until they break, or the child grows up. If they’re lucky, they’ll be donated to a new owner to start the cycle again or be placed in storage. The unlucky ones get dumped and ruined to the point where no child would ever want to play with them, which inevitably leads to them rotting away in a dump or worse… being incinerated.” I shudder in fear at the thought. “Fortunately, here, a Little growing up is practically unheard of. The love of a Little could last decades, and most toys only fade away after completely wearing out or if their Little passes away.” Charley laughs again from the bathroom and reminds me of how we got here in the first place. Why a nursery was even in this house in the first place. I look at the ground in shame and regret. “I can’t lie though…” I let out a big sigh and lean back into the changing table nearby, “sometimes, being a toy here is tough. All other toys’ main objective is creating joy and love in a child’s life and to be loved and cherished back. In the past five years though, toys here have another purpose. We’re now equipped with subliminal messages we have to use on the Littles. Most Bigs don’t realize the messaging is in all toys now, though many of them know at least of the possibility of having similar technology in the specially marked toys. The Mister Cuddles Bear line was extremely popular about three years ago. It alone could regress a Little in under a month after being prompted to do so by the Big. Most Littles didn’t know about the technology until it was too late. They would cling to their one unjudging friend, and it would be all over. Seek comfort after a tough day of mentally regressing and the bear would only further the cycle and send them further downward. Poor little tykes.” “Due to this new technology though, all toys now have a primary mission of using their messaging, or other bits of regressive technology, on their Littles until the desired regression has been achieved. Once it has, we become like any other toy, but our primary mission still hangs over us like a dark cloud of guilt. How could a toy profess to love and care for their Little when every day with them will just lead the Little back to their early childhood or earlier? It’s a question every toy now asks themselves and then must live with afterward. I envy anyone like you that doesn’t have to worry about that in their lives. The ones that see a Little after they’ve been regressed…” Oh god! Please help me, Hop. I don’t know if I can make it through this… Please don’t let her take me… take my mind. Oh. Oh no! Anything but that. Not now! The memory strikes deep within me. It passes in a moment but the pangs of guilt are still there. I glance around the baby blue nursery and infantile accoutrements laid before me with regret. “This is what I must live with now. It wasn’t all me, but I started the process, and I can’t escape it. This room was once classified as a ‘big boys’ room. Charles cringed at that for the longest time… until he didn’t, when he became Charley.” Despite the cartoon characters on the walls and clothing suited for someone under eight, it seemed practically adult compared to where I was standing now. A long changing table packed with diapers and everything else one needs to facilitate those with a Little; a tall and inescapable crib, a bouncer, a rocking chair strong and wide enough for any Big to cuddle with their Little on, a toy chest packed with items only Littles could treasure, and a small bookcase filled with books, where those at the top could be read by a Big and those at the bottom could really only be looked at by Littles. “I miss the ‘big boy’ room.” “I can’t say that I do…” a voice says from above. “I can’t blame you there, Sandy,” I say to the moon-shaped nightlight perched at the top of the dresser. “You only came in when Charley started getting afraid of the dark again. That was right when all this started to change.” “Yep. I would have loved to have met ‘Charles.’ But hey, at least you get to play with him…” “Very true, Sandy. Very true.” I pause and see his faint glow in the dim room of the afternoon. “Charley definitely appreciates you though.” “Right as always, Hop,” he replies back. “The little bugger loves my safety at night. Can’t blame a Little for that.” He’s right and I settle fully back against the changing table and smell the cacophony of nursery-associated smells. I focus on the sweeter ones of clean linen and baby powder to distract myself. “Anyway, regardless of what this place looks like now, I remember what it used to look like when I came home from the mall with Monica. Back before…” I gesture around the nursery, “all this.”

Things Work Out Jem finished the stitching on his latest creation: A blue bunny stuffie that was going to a good home. He’d add on button eyes and few other finishing touches so that it looked nice and clean that afternoon and then ship it off. He took a moment to take a picture at the almost completed work, and then sent a message to his client to inform them of the progress. Standard operating procedure. Jem was careful to keep any part of his body or clothes out of frame; along with any environmental clues that would give away that the person making Mr. Bun Bun was a Little. Also standard operating procedure. Like most average Littles, Jem’s life tended towards the quiet, cautious, and cloistered. He had what he felt was a solid network of friends, mostly other Littles and a token Tweener, but they never went anywhere; opting to just visit each other’s homes. There were larger Little communities where people of his stature knew how to get the most out of their size using society’s scraps; but they were almost always on the move and skittish to boot, like the old stories of circus workers and carnies. Spending one’s whole life looking over their shoulder, afraid of giants, was no way to live, or so Jem reasoned. If Adoption was the death of self that so many Littles seemed to think it was, then Jem would do what most people did and just live his life with that knowledge and not think about it. With black medium length hair, hazel eyes, and a rather unremarkable build, Jem might or might not have been adopted. A giant Mommy might not take any interest in him or she might see a blank slate upon which to paint; a real coinflip. What tilted the odds towards Adoption were the light freckles on his cheeks that had never fully faded from childhood. A mad giant could certainly see that and jump to conclusions. The Little craftsman caught his reflection in an empty glass of water and shrugged at the thought. He was only twenty. Unless he was extremely cautious, he wouldn’t make it to thirty outside of a crib. But why worry? Like most Littles, he was ambitious, happy, and had found a niche to excel in. To be fair, how ‘most Littles’ felt depended on one’s search radius. There were neighborhoods, towns, cities, counties, states, regions, and countries where the majority of people Jem’s size had had their potty privileges permanently revoked and the only dates they went on were playdates arranged by their massive adoptive parents. Jem saw no reason to dwell too much on it. He’d seen more than enough people his age and older being pushed around in strollers or getting their butts wiped for them in the back of somebody’s minivan. Most of them seemed to like it; like it or had at least learned to live with it. ‘Jeremy Meadows’s Joyful Mementos’ was something of a mouthful, but the Artsy account was paying Jem’s rent and putting groceries in his refrigerator. Jem had unusually dexterous fingers, even for a Little, and good spatial awareness and fine motor control. He’d applied those skills and created an at home custom baby clothes and stuffed animal business. Jeremy Meadows was his real name; very professional sounding. His mother lovingly called him Jem, however, and the name had grown with him. He was Jeremy Meadows according to the banks and online customers. Jem was for his friends and his own inner monologue. Standing up and stretching Jem went to get his shoes. “Laundry time.” A few times a week, Jem would run some of his creations through the apartment complex’s coin operated washers and dryers (on low of course) just to give them that comfortable worn in feeling before shipping them off to his customers. It was a nice touch that many reviews noted and praised him for. More than a few of his creations and alterations were going to babied Littles, Jem knew. He had one customer who had ordered eight different onesies or rompers in as many months, and the measurements always stayed the same. Real children grew faster than that, and the shipping address wasn’t listed as a daycare. Jem just did another mental shrug. At least he knew whatever Little was wearing his outfits would be comfortable. Sometimes, he tried his creations on for himself in the privacy of his own room to see how they moved and felt in different positions. No diaper of course, but he’d experimented with layering every pair of briefs on top of one another or using a pillow and a belt. Not quite the same he was sure, but he figured it gave him the right gait. Close enough to simulate a dry diaper. Sometimes Amazon Mommies and Daddies would send him pictures of their ‘babies’ playing with or cuddling the plushies he’d sewn. They all seemed genuinely happy, cuddling the stuffie or mid giggle. Jem made sure not to put any mind control tracks into the stuffies; not even those bells that threw off a Little’s inner ear while stimulating their pleasure response. He tested each bell ordered from a craft supply site himself, just in case. His conscience was clear. Every now and then, a satisfied customer would send a picture of their Little one cuddling the stuffie, and their Mommy or Daddy would be cuddling them in their laps; a regular nesting doll effect of laps. Those bothered Jem for some reason and yet he lingered on those photos longer than he felt was proper before deletion. Jem got his shoes on and grabbed his keys, a mesh laundry bag, and a laundry card before heading out of his apartment. It was an Amazon sized space, with Amazon sized doors that needed to be retrofitted to accommodate Littles. It was nothing that a pull rope on the inside and a step ladder bolted into the cement on the outside didn’t fix. He whistled tunelessly and boldly walked to the public laundry room, sounding everything like the chipper birds in the trees above. His whistling seemed to get louder in the laundry room. All the machines were at rest and so there was only concrete, tile, and metal to dull the high pitched air moving out of his lips. Other Littles would have avoided making unnecessary noises, fearful that it might attract attention. Others might put such boldness as a strategic risk to blend in. Jem had no such forethought or motivations. He just didn’t like the sound of silence. The room was divided into two halves. Washers on one side, driers on the other. Both were side loaders, so there was no having to climb and dive in to fetch anything. Jem didn’t know how he would have managed otherwise. A button push unlatched the lowest dryer near the back. “Timed it perfect,” Jem complimented himself upon feeling the blast of hot hair from the comparatively massive porthole. There were few things as simple and satisfying as nice hot laundry fresh from the dryer. Opening his white mesh laundry bag he started putting the latest batch in, being careful to check each shirt, onesie, romper, and sundress, to make sure that it wasn’t damp. His friends in real life and the ones he kept in contact with on the net wouldn’t approve of the idea of him handling Little sized baby clothes in public. Too great a risk. To Jem’s mind, there was no risk. If an Amazon wanted him as their baby boy they’d find or invent a reason. Paranoid precautions that interfered with life were pointless. In lieu of coins, every appliance had a card swipe that only accepted a special kind of card given to tenants. Jem kept a hefty balance on his because he always made sure that his products were completely dry before ironing, folding, and packaging for shipment. Hot and damp was not a great combination. Trouble was the heat could sometimes disguise the dampness, and a romper that needed another ten to twenty minutes would end up a wrinkled mess. It was always a gamble with these metal behemoths. Jem took one such romper, a tie-dye alteration that when it was done would say “Mommy’s Little Crinkle Butt” up to his face and towards an open window, hoping that the sunlight would illuminate any patches of moisture. “Oh! Hey there buddy!” An unfamiliar voice rang out. “What are you doing here? Where’s your Mommy?” Time slowed down for Jem. He’d read about this sort of thing on MistuhGwiffin.web. An Amazon would see a Little in a potentially compromising position- a rattle picked up off the ground, a headband or other clothing accessory that was a bit too ‘immature’, just really bad gas-and things would escalate from there if the Little wasn’t quick. Jem calmly lowered the romper away from his face and started neatly folding it. His pulse barely picked up speed as he gently placed it in the sack and then looked way up at the intruding Amazon like he had barely registered the deep booming masculine voice. “Hm?” As soon as he made eye contact with the newcomer, Jem felt his pulse start to pick up. All Amazons are giant compared to their Little counterparts: Bigger, stronger, faster, the works. The man in front of Jem with his short brown hair and day old stubble, looked like an Amazon among Amazons. It’s not that he was any more massive than your average amazon- not a whale among elephants- but he was decidedly more physically fit than the average pram pusher. With that physique and definition, Jem could tell that this stranger pushed more than strollers. Probably did more cardio than just slow paced leisurely strolls through a park or pushing a shopping cart aisle after aisle at the supermarket. An errant, uninvited thought jumped into Jem’s mind: A shame The Amazon took Jem in: Jem’s jeans weren’t the most professional looking, but the black collared polo shirt should have done the trick. He was certainly more ‘mature’ looking than Mr-Basketball-Shorts-No-Shirt-So-You-Could-See-His-Abs-Beneath-The-Laundry-Basket. The bigger man puckered his lips a moment and then looked ashamed. “Oh. My bad. Sorry dude. I thought. It’s just I saw the…and you’re…” He placed the basket full of dirty clothes down and scratched the back of his head. “You know what. My bad. Sorry. Carry on and ignore me. I’ll just mind my own business.” He looked older to Jem, but not by much; late twenties, maaaaaaaybe early thirties. It was the subtle difference of a few years that only young adults really noticed, regardless of physical size. High school was filled with baby teenagers. Anybody over thirty was old. Anybody older than twenty five was somehow mature but accessible. Or perhaps that was just how Jem’s brain worked. At the moment, this mature yet accessible looking Amazon had all the awkward mannerisms of an adorable puppy who’d just been caught tearing at a slipper. Good, Jem thought. Sensible. An Amazon that admits when he made a mistake. “It’s cool.” Jem heard himself say. “Honest mistake.” “Awesome. Appreciate it.” And so the two occupied the otherwise desolate space for a few more uncomfortable minutes. It should have been over more quickly, Jem had figured. It didn’t take very long to dump in dirty clothes, throw in a laundry pod and then bounce. But things took longer, because the stranger was also picking up a load of laundry from the drier. Like Jem, he seemed determined to fold every single article of clothing, underwear included. “Can I ask you a question?” the giant said, breaking the silence. Jem looked up from a pair of shortalls that he’d stitched a smiley sun onto the front and an adorably frowny raincloud to the seat. His work was holding up well. Were he being honest with himself, Jem would admit that he was only paying such close attention because of how nervous he was. “Yes sir?”, he responded “Are those baby clothes?” The man asked. “Yes sir,” Jem said kindly enough. “They are.” Another twitch of self-consciousness flashed over the man’s gorgeous blue eyes. “Are they…your baby clothes?” “They’re mine in that I made them and I’m selling them. But they’re not for me.” “Ooooh!” The man said, a wave of relief and realization falling right over him. “That makes so much sense! I just…I saw…and I thought…” He searched for the right phrase but finally gave up. ”Do you make them yourself from scratch or by hand or machine?” Jem’s cheeks turned rosey and he felt like stuttering, but the words came out of him like flowing water. “A bit of everything, really. Sometimes I make them from a pattern. Other times I’ll take a plain outfit and modify it with decorations. You can turn a t-shirt into a onesie if you buy them bigger than usual and then alter it a bit.” The giant man nodded his understanding, those dreamy blue eyes never blinking. “Okay. Yeah. I get it. So you do custom orders.” The Little allowed himself a faint smirk. “Pretty much. It costs more, but lots of parents”- Jem was careful not to say Mommies and Daddies- “want their baby to stand out, so it’s worth it to them to pay the extra cost. I also do stuffies.” “Yeah,” the man said. “Okay. Makes sense. I’d pay extra for fancy baby clothes. Especially if my baby wasn’t gonna to grow up.” A chill danced its way up Jem’s back. “Beg pardon?” The Amazon looked shocked and embarrassed all over again. “No wait. Not like…I didn’t mean.” He looked down at himself as if for the first time. “Shit!” he hissed. “I mean ‘crud’!” He reached into the dryer and dug out a t-shirt. “You’re here taking care of business, and I’m practically in my skivvies. Sorry!” He pulled the maroon colored t-shirt over him, hiding his physique, but making him seem dressed more appropriately if still casually. In faded but still legible black letters were the words. “Carmen’s Gym” “Let me start over. Hi, my name’s Nate,” he said. He leaned over and reached out a massive hand towards Jem. Boldly and seemingly unafraid, Jem reciprocated and allowed his tiny hands to be engulfed. “Jeremy Meadows, of ‘Jeremy Meadows Joyful Memories’.” Jem resisted the urge to fish around in his pocket for a business card, but only because he knew he didn’t have any on him. “Nice to meet you Mr. Meadows,” Nate said and released his hand. Astonishment buzzed behind Jem’s eyes. He’d never known one of the big people to deliberately call a Little ‘Mr.” or “Miss’ without prompting. Nate looked down at his t–shirt. “Oh uh…Nathan Quinn. Carmen’s Gym.” He slid his hand across his pecs, underlining the words. “I’m a personal trainer. Workout coach and stuff.” This was all so terribly, wonderfully awkward that Jem didn’t know how to feel about it in the moment. His brain and mouth just decided to start going on autopilot. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Quinn” “Oh, you don’t have to call me that, Little dude. Nate’s fine.” His smile became easier, more relaxed. “It’s what my friends call me.” “Friends call me Jem.” Oh yikes! Why did he say that? Jem instantly wanted to regret that. “Cool. Jem.” Nate said, like he was trying the word out in his head. The thin smile on his lips might have meant he liked it. “So yeah. Total transparency, I don’t know many Littles. Most of my friends don’t have kids and haven’t decided to Adopt, so if I say something messed up, I promise it’s not on purpose and I’m trying to learn.” Like implying the only way an Amazon might know a Little is if one was Adopted? That kind of messed up? Jem didn’t speak the thought out loud, however. As it turns out, he didn’t need to. The Amazon caught himself and smacked himself on the forehead. “Fuck, I did it again!” He slapped himself on the forehead. “I mean, ‘man’. Man, I did it again! Da…darn it!” Jem had stopped folding his clothes and was just now slowly placing them in the bag on top of the folded ones. He’d definitely have to iron them all later. He could only focus on so much at one time and this intriguing Cerbernard puppy given Amazon form had his full attention. “You can swear around me, you know,” Jem said. “It’s nothing I haven’t heard before. Or said.” “Hm?” Nate said. “Oh, no. That. Sorry. The cursing thing isn’t you. It’s just a bad habit of mine I’m trying to break. My boss doesn’t like swearing and I’m trying to break myself of the habit.” That might have been true, Jem thought, but it had the flavor of a lie of omission. This guy was definitely monitoring his words more closely because of Jem’s stature. “Why?” Jem probed. Nate shrugged and flopped his hands by his side. “Oh you know. Gym culture is kinda toxic. We get better business and better customers if we keep ourselves polite and professional and stuff. That and my boss also owns the daycare next…” And the hits just kept on coming. “Uh…huh.” “Okay,” the charming idiot deflated. “Full disclosure. My parents were pretty conservative growing up. Said all Littles were immature babies that never grew up. I don’t believe that. And I had some gal pal’s back in college who were studying about Maturesis or whatever it’s called…like that some Littles are adults and then just one day snap into kids or whatever. I don’t know about that, either.” He quickly tacked on. “Unless you say that’s a thing, I mean. I’ll listen if it is.” “It’s not.” Jem shook his head. “Okay. Cool. Just like. I got some bad habits all around that I’m trying to break.” He held out his palm. “Not that it’s your job to help me or anything. I’m explaining, not excusing.” This himbo just kept on digging, and the worst part was Jem wanted him to dig more and he was pretty sure it had nothing to do with wanting to watch the big man squirm. “Sure…” “My point is I’m sorry if I offended you. I know that Littles have some physical difficulties and need help reaching stuff sometimes, or can’t run as fast or lift as much, but that doesn’t make you children.” Those sky blue eyes were practically begging for affirmation. “Yeah. We agree.” Jem nodded. What could he say, he was starting to feel sorry for the big lug. Amazons tended to be crazy and thoughtless, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t also be nice, well meaning people. This Nate was kind of proving that point. “Cool. Sorry. Next time I’ll be better.” Jem didn’t consciously realize he’d cocked an eyebrow. “Next time?” “If we ever see…each other…in the laundry…?” Nate was definitely realizing how stupid he was sounding. “Okaaaaaaaay,” he course corrected. “Let me try it this way. If we see each other again, I’m not gonna make the same mistakes.” There was no talking as each measured the other up. “If you ever want a free workout, come on by to the gym and ask for me. I’m not great at talking, but I’m good at coaching and spotting.” The Little felt his head lightly bobble. “Okay,” Jem said. “Sure. I’ll think about it.” Why did he say that?! Nate’s smile lit up. “Great! Hope to see you.” That was as good a time as any for Jem to seal up the bag and calmly walk out of the laundry room. “Me too.” What?! “See you around, Nate.” “Yeah. You too. Later, Jem. Nice to meet you!” Though his feet were calm, Jem’s mind was racing thirty paces ahead of him. Why had he done that? Why had he told this giant his name? Formal or otherwise? Why had he taken it easy on him when the guy was clearly uncomfortable. Making Amazons uncomfortable was what Littles did, especially when it came to Adoption. Why hadn’t he run or…or…or done literally anything else? What was Jem thinking? In truth, Jem didn’t know what he was thinking. He didn’t have the words for it. Among Amazon parlance, cossetting means a desire to love and protect a smaller person and treat them like they’re a child. On the spectrum of emotions, a cosset is between a schoolyard crush or ‘puppy love’ and the rush of dopey platonic love that some get when they see a baby and quietly feel the need to have a child of their own. Jem didn’t have the words for what he was experiencing, because in the slang of Little culture, there is no equal opposite attraction of a Little to an Amazon. And if there is, the word has never been spread far enough because those Littles don’t live as adults long enough for it to catch on. **************************************************************************************** In a more fair world, a gym next to a daycare, owned by the same person no less, would seem quirky at best. In a world ruled by Amazons it made a great deal of practical and fiscal sense. A quick web search for Carmen’s Gym and C.G. Daycare confirmed what Nate had slipped. The two establishments, one school bus yellow and the other brick dust red, fed into each other. Virtual tours confirmed that they shared a doorway, and the sites for each establishment linked to each other as well. Amazons with captured Littles, Tweeners, and actual babies (which the sites simply referred to as ‘children’) could be checked in at both hourly and daily rates with discounts given to gym members. Giant Gym rats could check in their diapered brats while they ran on a treadmill and pumped iron. Just as likely, they could drop them off for an entire day, go to work, come back tired and promise themselves that ‘next time’ they’d start that exercise routine they promised themselves several months prior. It wasn’t super common, but it wasn’t unheard of. One business more than likely propped up the other and the smart money was on the one that had an upcharge for ‘emergency diapers’ in the event that the parent didn’t supply enough or that the ‘baby’ was ‘new’ enough to only be in their first or second diaper in several decades. “I shouldn’t be doing this,” Jem said to himself crossing the street. His feet carried him through the crosswalk anyways. He regarded the bright yellow daycare. Its windows were reflective, but Jem knew there’d be at least a dozen Littles crinkling around on the floor on the other side. He paced left and caught his reflection in the low reflective glass. The daycare was probably a proper storefront at another time in its history. He looked at his reflection and pictured himself in one of his own custom onesies, a non-inflatable pacifier between his lips. He felt nothing, not even dread. Then he imagined a certain Amazon coming up behind him and giving him two pats- one on the head and one on his (hypothetically) padded bottom- and Jem forgot to breathe for a second. “This is a bad idea…” he whispered. He would never admit it to himself, but if Nate had told Jem that he worked in the daycare section, Jem would have likely found a reason to visit the yellow building over the red. Possibly to protest; possibly to shoot his mouth off until one particular Grown-Up saw no reason not to take away the Little's big kid pants forever. Jem got the luxury of pacing right and going into the faded red building, instead. He couldn’t reach the door handle, but a stroke of luck in the form of an exiting customer saved him the trouble. ’The sound of high powered air conditioning droned on over the rhythmic thumping of big feet thundering down on treadmills and the steady strained grunting of even bigger arms lifting weights. It was a relatively small gym; a single clean floor with enough room for a row of treadmills, several rows of weight machines, and free weights by a mirrored wall so that the dudest of dudebros could properly primp themselves and pretend that everyone was secretly looking at them. Small by Amazonian standards was still mammoth when scaled to a Little. No Nate though… Shit, was it the guy’s day off? He should have called ahead, or at least done more reconnaissance. Figured out which car belonged to the Amazon and checked the parking lot. Something! An oblong shiny black countertop closed off a good chunk wall that the gym shared with the daycare. Bright white lettering marked it as the Service Desk. As good as any place to look, Jem supposed. Feeling strangely timid he walked up to the counter and knocked on wood with a shave-and-a-haircut cadence so that he could bang loudly without seeming forceful. “Hello?” a blonde Amazon woman close to Jem’s age called out from the other side. Her face betrayed confusion until Jem repeated the cadence for her sake. “Oh! Hel-lo!” She chirped, poking her head over the barrier and her voice about an octave higher. “How did you get over…?” she blinked and frowned at his plain white sneakers with actual laces and his jeans that required a belt. “Wait a second. Stay right there.” She disappeared from sight and Jem had to back away to see her retreat through the adjoining door. The sounds of infantile giggling and fussy crying leaked into the echoey chamber just before the door closed. Jem waited. A small eternity that lasted two minutes later, the door opened again, and the sounds of giggles and screams (good or bad?) bled in before being suddenly cut off. This time, the young woman crouched underneath the partition separating the counter from the main floor. “Sorry about that, sir.” She said. “I thought one of our charges had toddled off or something.” She seemed nice enough, but far less self-conscious that she was actively referring to Littles as if they were children. All of the giggles and screams had sounded like post pubescent Littles to Jem’s ears. “The motion sensor we have by the door must be too high.” Jem inhaled and caught a whiff of baby powder coming from off his giant peer. “That’s fine. I came in when someone was just leaving.” He thought it would be polite to give her an out. The woman neither took nor seemed to care about the explanation. “How can we help you, friend? Do you need to use our phone? Is your scooter broken down? Do you need directions somewhere? Are you lost?” Yes. Yes he was lost. He’d made a mistake in coming here and he’d need someone to take him home. Maybe someone who lived in the same apartment complex as him could help. Someone big and strong with dreamy blue eyes. “I’m interested in working out,” Jem lied instead. The young woman frowned. For all intents and purposes she’d just heard a cat bark. “Okay…” she said in a way that signaled that it really wasn’t. “Let me go get someone for you.” On long striding legs, she power walked around the other side of the counter and through another door with an “Office” sign hanging from it. “Nate!” Jem called after her, but his voice fell quiet. It was only the rough approximation of a shout, not even close to the real thing. The door shut and closed him out. “Damn,” he hissed. The LIttle sniffed the air and wrinkled his nose. The sweet aroma of baby powder just wouldn’t get out of his nostrils. The lady just trailed it in with her. Which was odd, considering that the gym didn’t reek of sweat. It wasn’t worrying, or even surprising; just telling about where priorities lay. “Jem?” The raven haired Little rose up to his tippy toes in surprise. He forced his arms and the hairs on the back of his neck down before he turned around to face the wonderful voice. “Hey dude,” Nate greeted. “What are you doing here? The Amazon’s hair was neatly brushed. His face was cleanly shaved. He wore a neat maroon polo tucked into khaki pants. In his muscular arms, he carried a clipboard. He didn’t have the relaxed but scruffy look from yesterday. Now he looked so…so...so Grown-Up. Jem sealed his lips to prevent himself from drooling. “Did you decide to take me up on my offer?” Dumbly, Jem nodded. “Yeah,” he mumbled. “Uh-huh.” The office door opened up and the woman from before followed out a second Amazon woman. This lady was older, but far from old, mid thirties at most. With her dirty blonde hair tied back in a pony tail and a maroon sweat suit she could have been the first one’s older sister; maybe even her mother, and the air of confident authority that said she was in charge. Nate, as well as the other staff Jem saw walking around the place, looked like a corporatized version of a life coach; a personal assistant but with weights. They clapped and encouraged people to go the extra mile in between cleaning up sweat, but that was it. If Nate worked out here (and he did work out) it certainly wasn’t dressed like this. Carmen, and she had to be Carmen, dressed like she was ready to start sprinting and pumping iron at a moment’s notice. If she made it another fifty years and kept the wardrobe, she might resemble the crusty but loveable trainer in a boxing movie. When she crossed the threshold, Jem thought he caught the slightest sigh of relief from the woman. “Hi there,” Carmen said. “What can I do for you Mister…?” Two Amazons leading with proper titles in as many days. Would unasked for wonders never cease? “Jem,” he stuttered. “I mean Jeremy Meadows.” Awkward handshakes were exchanged. “What can I do for you Mr. Meadows,” she repeated. Shaking and trembling more than he should, Jem thumbed to the gorgeous man behind him. “Nate is my…” he stuttered. “I mean I want him to be my…uh…” What the fuck was he trying to say? Friend? Daddy? Trainer? Yes please?! Jem couldn’t force himself to finish the sentence with anything. The giant of his infatuations filled in the blanks. “We live in the same apartment complex, Miss Carmen.” Nate said. “We got to talking and I offered him a complimentary session.” It was all the truth but not quite the words Jem was craving. Jem looked between the two remaining giants; the original one had taken her place back behind the counter. Nate stood with his clipboard folded in front of his lap. No winks were exchanged or secret signals or intonations. To Jem’s inexplicable disappointment, Nate was talking straight. How did other Littles provoke the ‘correct’ response from Amazons without even trying? The tilted her head forward appraisingly at Jem and placed her hands behind her. “Mr. Meadows, are you aware that my facility does not have any adaptive equipment for Tweeners or Littles?” Jem straightened up like a private at boot camp. “Yes ma’am.” “For safety reasons, you’ll have to have a spotter at all times. You realize that?” “Yes ma’am.” “You realize that if you become a member, you’ll be required to either have another member accompany you or purchase a session with one of our trainers so that they can ensure your safety?” Out of habit, Jem feigned interest. “Do members get a discount?” Carmen cocked her head to the side like a cat who’d seen a mouse do an amusing trick. “Yes. Yes they do.” “That’s acceptable, then.” Jem said. “Do I get to pick the trainer?” “Assuming they’re available that day, yes.”. “Is Nate available?” The owner chuckled dryly through her nose. “Yes. Yes he is.” She walked past Jem and placed her hand on Nate’s shoulder. “Nicely done, Nathan.” At the sound of that, Jem felt a faint feeling of…something…connected to the brief idea that he’d end up in a car seat before the day was out. ********************************************************************************* A few hours later… “Push dude!” Nate ordered. “I can’t!” Jem groaned, every phoneme a strain. “Don’t give me that talk, my guy! You can do it!” “No. I. Can’t.” “Do it for you!” He didn’t want to do it for him. “I don’t wanna do it for me!” Jem was straining so much that even his inner monologue wasn’t being filtered. This could end poorly. “Then do it for me!” Nate said. “Can you do it for me, my guy?!” For Nate? To impress him? He could do anything. Jem took a deep breath and pushed up with every fiber of his being.. “Yes. I. Can!” The giant metal bar that had been crushing Jem’s chest lifted up for the final time. The second his elbows fully extended, Nate bent over and relieved the Little of his burden, putting the massive weight back on the bar. “Nice, dude!” Panting and drenched in his own sweat, Jem sat up from the bench. He would have mopped his forehead with his shirt sleeve, but that was equally sopping. Jem had never sweat so much in his life. For his trial run he’d been given a baby blue jumpsuit with teddy bear ears on the hoodie and extra room in the back for a diaper Jem wasn’t wearing. It had Carmen’s Gym in italic font on the chest, but other than that it was basically footed pajamas from the daycare. “Sorry,” Nate apologized all too sincerely, “It’s the only thing we’ve got in your size. You can still slip these in your sneakers.” Jem had hoped that would be the first step in the right direction. He was terribly mistaken. There weren’t even any Amazon strength snaps anywhere, just a front facing zipper. This getup was very escapable if slightly inconvenient. He looked back at the heavy leaden bar that he’d been balancing and pressing at the same time, resting serenely back on its perch.. “Nice?” Jem panted. “Nice? That’s…just…the bar. I didn’t…even…get any weights on.” “It’s not about where you start, Little man.” The trainer started mopping up the sweaty outline Jem had left behind. “It’s where you end up. A couple months of this and some nutritional supplements and you’ll be able to give a Tweener a run for their money.” A couple of months?! Jem knew he couldn’t take this kind of torture for a couple of months. He didn’t want to beat up a Tweener either. He couldn’t say it out loud just yet, but he knew what he wanted, and it involved being cradled in someone else’s massive arms. He wanted to cry, but the sound that came out was more of a tired bark. Jem wasn’t sure if he could properly shed tears just then. That would have required fluids he didn’t possess at the moment. “Okay, bro,” Nate said, slapping him on the back. “I think that’s enough for one day. Good workout. Do you want to sign up for the full membership? No. No he didn’t. Not at all. Jem wanted nothing more than to crawl home into his bed and die a mummified corpse. “Yeah.” He said. “Sure.” Dragging his feet and feeling like a ragdoll, Jem followed Nate back over to the counter where he was handed a clipboard. Maybe this was part of the gym’s standard operating procedure for Adopting out Littles. Push them to the brink of exhaustion and then have them wake up in a playpen. Imagine his disappointment when he read through the lengthy gym membership contract line by line and found it to be just a lengthy gym membership contract. No maturity clauses. No loopholes. Nothing even close to a double entendre that meant if he couldn’t pay his monthly dues he’d be dragged back into the nursery like the irresponsible Little boy he clearly was… So much for the easy way. He signed his name on the dotted line and handed it back up to Nate. “Welcome to the club,” Nate said. “See you tomorrow?” “Yeah,” Jem sighed. “Sure.” ********************************************************************************* Thuck-thuck-thuck-thuck-thuck-thuck-thuck-thuck. The rhythmic beating sound smacking in Jem’s ears the next day had nothing to do with anything he’d been fantasizing about. They weren’t from him loudly suckling on a pacifier that Nate had shoved between his lips. They weren’t Nate’s wonderfully massive hands patting him on the back in an attempt to burp the Little. In a weird, almost perverse way, Jem was even disappointed that the beat wasn’t the result of a spanking. Spankings held a strange kind of primal terror for Littles, Jem included, but having his bottom smacked by a giant palm, hairbrush, or paddle, would stil mean things were going in the right direction for Jem’s deluded brain. In actuality the muted rhythmic sounds were just the pitter patter of Jem’s feet dashing on a treadmill capable of supporting an Amazon in full sprint. “That’s right!” Nate cheered him on from the side. “Widen that stride. Make your gait as long as possible!” He clapped lightly in time with Jem’s increasingly ragged footsteps. “You’re doing great, sir!” Great is not how Jem would have described how he was feeling just then. Every muscle in his body was screaming at him. As for his gait, last night he’d imagined himself having a slightly more awkward, toddling gait. He’d even gone so far as to re-layer his briefs over each other again and went to sleep. He kept waking up out of some bizarre paranoia that he’d wet the bed, but otherwise it was decently comfortable, if a tad snug for his liking. He shouldn’t be doing this, Jem knew. He should have been holed up in his apartment, finishing another custom stuffie or clothing modification. One customer wanted this yellow ruffled onesie and equally frilly pink dress Frank N. Stined together into one outfit instead of layering them together. This membership was expensive, too. More than Jem could afford long term unless he was working full time to pay for it off. It gave him a chance, however, to be close to his Amazon himbo crush. It’s not that Jem wanted to be a baby again, per se, it’s that he wanted to be Nate’s baby. A strange and conflicted fantasy to be sure, and one he didn’t dare talk or type about over on MistuhGwiffin.web. The people there would not be sympathetic to this impulse. Best case scenario he’d be piled on with accusations of being mindfucked or some Amazon sock puppet account. Yesterday had been weight day, Nate declared. Every weight machine was powerful enough to lift Jem out of the recommended seating position or impossible to move, so Jem had been forced to work with every free weight light enough. Fortunately (fortunately?) Nate knew multiple exercises that could be used with the same spider-web covered dumbbells, left neglected because the usual gym rats skipped right over them for something more challenging. Today was all about cardio. “Get your heart buff and the rest will follow. Gotta get that blood pumping to the muscles so that they can grow!” So they’d done cardio. None of the exercise bikes were small enough so that Jem could reach the pedals, so Nate made do by putting Jem through lots of stretches and poses that tangled the Little’s body up in knots. According to Nate, stretching and poses could be good for cardio, too, because it forced the heart to pump blood to the specific muscles being stretched at any given time, increasing the heart rate. Jem had no idea if that was true or complete bullshit, and the not knowing- the feeling of learning and being guided by someone who knew more than him- gave Jem the best kind of tingles. Nate was still kind of socially awkward and had the vocabulary and speaking mannerisms of someone from a corny beachbum movie but he genuinely seemed to be passionate and know what he was talking about in this field. If only, Jem fantasized, one of these yoga positions involved him being on his back with his legs crossed and up over his head. No amount of stretching in the world could compete with good old fashioned running, though. So that’s how Jem was ending this session. Also agony. Jem was also ending this session in agony. “Come on! Just one more mile, Jem!” Nate cheered. “You can do it, bro!” Stop. Calling me. Bro. Little dude is okay. Jem is great. Baby boy. Is preferred. But not. Bro. Jem wanted to say all of this, but he was too busy panting to vocalize. Even his thoughts were panting, somehow. “PLease D-...Nate!” Jem forced himself to say. “I’m…at my limit.” “No way! You got this!” Nate positioned himself behind Jem, straddling the treadmill so that Jem couldn’t escape. This was not the sort of penned in that the Little boy found himself idly fantasizing about. “Just a little fur-!” Jem’s knees buckled and the conveyor belt rushed up to meet him. He thumped on the treadmill and the two massive steel pillars that most of the customers were able to grab onto for pacing sped away from him. His brain processed the fall and the oncoming impact far faster than his body would have been able to. It would take less than a second for his frame to be ragdolled all over the floor. At least the footed sleeper he’d stuffed himself into would prevent any kind of road rash outside of his face. Nate’s big strong arms snatched him up instantly. Jem didn’t have time to register the rapid blur of upward motion and being held to a certain hunk’s chest. “Whoah! Jem!” Nate yelped. “Are you okay?” Panting and more exhausted than terrified, Jem looked up into those dreamy blue eyes and resisted the urge to suck his thumb. That’d be too obvious. “Yeah,” he said when he found his voice. “Yeah. I am. You saved me. Thanks.” ”I am so sorry!” Nate gushed. “I shouldn’t have pushed you that hard. I should have listened to you. I am sooooo so sorry my guy!” He didn’t let go or put Jem back down. Jem was in Heaven, looking past Nate and seeing the ceiling tiles move. He was being more than held. He was being carried; cradled even. He’d done it. He’d accidentally done it! “No.” Jem said. “It’s fine. I…I think I kinda like it.” The biggest dopiest smile plastered itself on Jem’s mug. Nate grinned like a puppy dug that had just been scritched behind the ears. “Sounds like you got that runner’s high, my dude. Careful. It’s addictive” The Amazon had no idea how right he was about the wrong stimulus. His grin faded into a concerned frown. “Either that or it’s dehydration and heat exhaustion. I think we’re done for the day.” Gently, he propped Jem up on the service counter, keeping his wonderful hands on Jem’s chest and back until he was sure that the Little could sit under his own power. “Done?” Jem whined. “Done? But it feels like we just got started!” “Your limit is your limit, my guy.” Nate lectured. “We can move it and push it over time, but you gotta respect it in the here and now. Listen to your body.” Jem hadn’t heard the phrase ‘listen to your body’ since potty training. “I don’t know how.” Another gentle clap on the back. “You’ll learn.” Would he though? Would he? The acknowledgement of his competence was almost a slap in the face to Jem. “Here. Let me buy you a sports drink. Electrolytes and stuff. Lots of sugar too. You like sweet stuff right?” Jem was on the verge of crazy happy tears. Nate was buying something for him. Something yummy and sweet. “Yeah,” Jem said. “Sure.” Nate started to wander around to a glass doored refrigerator filled with protein shakes, bottled waters, and lemon-lime flavored sports drinks. Despite Amazons’ preference for bitter and spicy flavors being so prevalent as to be sociological if not biological fact, the bottles filled with sugar water were on the fridge’s top shelf far out of Little reach. “Deal.” An idea! “Wait!” Jem called out. Nate turned back around and faced his client. “I want to pick it out myself.” Nate was in the process of formulating a non-condescending variation of ‘but you’re too Little to reach’, and part of Jem just wished that he would. “Please,” Jem said. “I…I kinda need this after what just happened.” The truth, but also a lie of omission. Jem daren’t say why he needed it. Nate considered it for a moment and walked back up to the Little. “Okay. I get it.” Jem hoped but doubted it. “Deal.” He picked Jem up and planted the twenty-year old on his hip like he was twenty months instead and walked him over to the cooler. He slid open the glass door and then stepped back so that he could lift Jem by the waist and thrust him forward. Uppies! He was getting uppies! Uppies from Daddy! Jem’s mind was buzzing. He took his sweet time reaching out and lifting the massive bottle with both hands. The magic was over too soon. Jem was back to resting on the countertop, his feet dangling, but otherwise unsupported. Nate cracked open the bottle with a single twist and gave it back to the physically exhausted Little. “We should start weight training with those,” Nate joked. “Those things are massive on you!” An accurate statement. Jem had to use both hands to sip from the rim of the sports bottle and he’d have to be part anaconda to fit the entire rim in his mouth. “Yeah,” he said between sips. “Maybe we could do some Kung-Pow Kid stuff. Non-conventional training.” “Heh,” Nate chuckled. “Good one. Polish on. Polish off.” The impression was kind of racist, but it was almost impossible to quote that line without putting on a faux Yamatoan accent. Jem let it slide. He was enjoying it. “Real talk. Those might taste good to you, but you’re gonna want to pregame and follow up with good old fashioned water. No calories, and after a certain point the cost benefit of all those vitamins and nutrients stops evening out with the sugar. Unless you’re doing this kind of workout every day, you might as well be sipping on a soda.” If it got him this kind of attention, Jem just might find time to do it more often. But that was a different kind of cost benefit analysis. He realized he was falling in love with the way Nate talked about nutrition and exercise. “Kay.” Nate grimaced slightly. “Speaking of water, I gotta go let some out. Be right back. You keep cooling down and then we’ll review and strategize before you get back in clean clothes.” Nate power walked to the locker room and rest room. Jem’s heart sank a little bit watching the giant man go. Daddies didn’t leave their LIttle boys unattended. Some were so comfortable that they might take their baby boys to the potty with them so as to not be out of their sight. Most any other Little would be dreading the talk of clean clothes foreshadowing a nasty surprise, but Jem was oddly hoping for it, despite knowing that Nate was just referring to clothes Jem walked in with today. The big lug just wouldn’t take the bait. Jem had briefly hoped that saving him and toting him around like a toddler might have awakened something in Nate. All Amazons, men and women, were supposed to be kinda baby crazy, right? It was supposed to be practically an instinct that they never aged out of. That’s why so many Littles ended up treated like kids, right? He swallowed his bizarre desires and nursed on lemon-lime flavored sugar water. A big muscle bound Amazon in his forties strolled up to the counter. He stank of sweat and had a big fuck-off beard. He definitely hit the weights more than Nate, but didn’t seem to be into cardio from the looks of it. A steroid junkie, Jem thought. Much older too. His dark black hair was more dye than natural. From the way he was smiling, Jem imagined he’d be the type of creep that wanted to be a mall Santa so that squirming Littles would be placed on his knee. “Hey, Little guy,” the stranger said, his voice sounding like he smoked and his breath reeking of beef jerky. “Noticed you were having some trouble with the weights the other day, and that you wiped out on the treadmill just now. Those trainers can get expensive real quick. Maybe it’d be better if you found someone to spot you for free. Give you some tips. If you want…” “Back off, Randal” came a stern voice from behind the big man. Carmen, the gym owner, leered up behind him and gave the big Amazon a withering glare. It was a more feminine pink than yesterday’s sweatsuit, but she was still ready to work out (and throwdown?) at a moment’s notice. “Oh,” the massive muscle man said. “I’m sorry Miss Carmen. I didn’t mean to intrude. I was just being friendly to the new kid is all.” “New kid?” Carmen said. “Excuse me?” “What? It’s just a figure of speech.” Carmen pointed right at Jem. “That customer belongs to Nathan. Until one of them says otherwise, he’s Nathan’s project. Got it?” The mountain-that-creeped was smart enough to slink away. “Got it.” Carmen paused long enough to give Jem a curt yet approving nod. Jem had the distinct idea that Carmen could see right through him. More depressingly, it seemed that the only person not getting the hints he was throwing out was Nate. Jem knew he’d need to up his game tomorrow. ******************************************************************* “You okay, bud?” Nate asked. “Yeah,” Jem said, glugging back the water. “You’re drinking a lot of water is all.” Nate looked genuinely worried. “Really taking yesterday’s advice to heart, yeah?” Jem finished glugging down the massive water bottle. His second in as many hours. “Yeah.” Nate had no idea how right he was. Jem hadn’t used the bathroom since he’d first gotten up this morning. His bladder was screaming at him in silent agony. This was on purpose. “You know there’s such a thing as too much water, right?” Nate asked. “You’ve been taking a big drink after every exercise today.” Jem exhaled, trying to maintain his composure. “Thanks. I’m trying.” No potty dance or hint. He needed to appear completely unaware of what he was about to do, like the Little baby he needed Nate to see him as. “Can I hit the weights next?” “I just can’t believe you’re not sloshing. Where do you put it all?” Jem bit into his lip and walked over to the mirrored wall with all the free weights. He’d be putting it all in his pants soon. Lacking a diaper, there’d be no hiding it, either. No excuses. The gym was pretty full too. Carmen was working the punching bag and most of the treadmills were occupied. No escaping it. Just getting what he wanted. What he needed. “Okay,” Nate said. “Let’s just start as light as we can. I don’t want to push you so hard that you puke, okay?” Jem stared at his reflection. Showing how weak he was hadn’t worked. Getting saved and carried around didn’t tempt him. This was the last straw; the final gambit. This would be the last time that he wouldn’t have an obviously padded bulge between his legs. Nate leaned over and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Okay, Jem?” Worth it. The warmth and strength Jem felt in his crush’s hand was enough to give him courage. He relaxed his bladder and felt the terrible violating feeling of urine splashing around in his pants and then dripping down his legs. For half a second, Jem worried that it would be too subtle, that the extra thickness of the pajama-like material would hide his purposeful accident. He needn’t have worried. A dark spot formed and spread right where his penis was and traveled down his thighs making a dark blue roadmap all the way into his ankles. The only downside was that the material wicked away just enough pee quickly enough so that it started pooling in his shoes instead of on the floor. He needn’t have worried, however. It was literally impossible for Nate to have missed it. Both sets of eyes widened in shock. Jem’s horrified expression was just a mask however, covering up his excited anticipation. “You’re cramping up!” Nate half-yelled. “Cramp! Cramp!” In another blur, Jem found himself lifted up pressed to Nate’s chest, snugly up against the Daddy of his dreams. Nate started carrying his new Little boy to the locker room. There, he knew, he’d be stripped, wiped, powdered, and diapered by a deliriously baby crazy Nate, and things would progress naturally from there. “Cramp! Cramp!” Jem opened his eyes. “Cramp?” Why was Nate saying Cramp? “Don’t worry Little dude,” Nate’s voice sounded off the locker room. It was almost like how they met. “I’ve got just the thing. Anybody here?!” He called. “Good.” “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!” Jem cried out in shock, if not pain. Freezing, ice cold water poured over Nate, soaking him from head to toe. “WHAT? AAAAAAAAAH!” “Cramp!” Nate yelled over Jem’s cries. “Just a cramp!” he pried Jem off of him and turned him to face the icy chilled stream. “This’ll get rid of it! No need to call an ambulance! It’s cool” The water switched off and Jem was placed sopping wet onto his feet. From the tip of his hoodie to the toes of his booties, all of the fabric was the same dark sodden dark blue. No trace of his accident remained. “Oh man!” Nate said. “That was close! Uh…I mean, I was worried for a second. I saw your legs spasming so I knew I had to ice you down.” Nate sounded like a bad soap opera actor. “Too bad we both got completely drenched.” He threw Jem a wink. “What?’ Jem whispered, completely baffled. Nate leaned in extra close, close enough for Jem to guess what brand of toothpaste he used. “Don’t worry. Nobody will know.” He lightly punched Jem in the shoulder. “I told you not to push yourself and drink that much water all at once,” Nate hissed. “Like, I get it. That could’ve happened to anybody. But you can’t risk that happening again. Anybody else here would have Adopted you right on the spot.”. All the muscles in Jem’s face ached. “Anybody else?” “:Literally anybody else.” That was the moment Jem felt his heart break. “Thanks,” Jem said, holding back sobs. “You’re a really good friend.” “Don’t mention it, LIttle dude.” Ten minutes later, Jem trudged out of the locker room wearing the clothes he’d come in with. Carmen stopped laying into the bag and looked particularly confused. Disturbed even. Jem paid her no mind. ************************************************************* “Alright,” Nate instructed. “We’re just gonna hang here in plank for a second. Then we’re gonna go down for a three count, hold for a three count, and push back up for a three count.” Jem nodded. “Uh-huh.” Beads of sweat were running down his face. They’d been at this for close to an hour. “Ready? One…two…three…and hold….one…two…three…back up…one…two…three…” They were doing slow push-ups, stretches, and other strength building exercises that even a Little could do in a land of giants. Nate was doing everything with Jem, and not even breaking a sweat. “Down again…one…two…three…and hold…one…two…three…aaaaand lower all the way down to your belly.” Jem had no idea why he was doing this anymore. He was torturing himself, physically and mentally, looking and wishing for himself. He didn’t want to be a baby, he wanted to be Nate’s. But literally anybody else would want him…anybody but Nate. He supposed he came back due to sunk cost fallacy and wanting to keep up appearances. He’d finish out the week, he’d decided, then maybe put in another week, and then fade away like most sporadic gym members. The only thing that would happen is his membership would be revoked. Being here also gave him an excuse to spend just a few more days with the Daddy that wasn’t meant to be. He’d get over it in time, but he was allowed to enjoy the fantasy for a few more days. Somehow it hurt less now that he knew his unexpected dream was off the table. “Inhale into cobra,” the pair arched their backs up from the mat. “Exhale into downward facing dog.” In unison they arched their backs and rocked themselves onto their hands and feet while sticking their tailbones into the air. “Aaaaand lower down to safety zone!” They collapsed into what most yoga practitioners would call ‘The Child’s Pose’. Nate had a different name for it, just in case anybody get the wrong idea about his Little friend. “Okay,” Jem said from the resting and recovery position. “I think that’s enough for me today.” Nate picked himself up. “I agree. You really worked hard today, my dude. Super focused.” Jem was still so tired that he hadn’t moved yet. “Yeah. I guess I am.” “You’re doing a good job. Listening to your body and paying attention to your limits. I’m proud of you.” Jem sighed. His heart fluttered but his face didn’t flush. What would have been the point? “Yeah. Awesome.” Nate offered his hand down. “Want help up?” Jem picked his head up and accepted the help. “Yeah.” It was a quick trip up to his feet. “Thanks, Daddy.” Nate looked horrified. “What did you say?” Jem frowned. “Thanks, Nate?” “No…” Nate said. “You didn’t.” The Little played back what he’d said in his head. The blood drained all the way down to the soles of his feet in pure unadulterated embarrassment. Jem dashed out of the building at a dead sprint. He didn’t even think about going back for his clothes or wallet or the key to his apartment. He was still in the blue teddy jammies that had been substituted as gym clothes. It was a miracle he made it back home. ********************************************************************************* Nate found Jem in the Laundry room later that day, with Jem leaned up against his favorite dryer. “Hey,” said. Jem closed his eyes and exhaled. “Hey.” “You left without your stuff.” “Yeah,” Jem said. “ I know.” He’d accidentally locked himself out of his apartment. Going to the manager’s office dressed like this was a surefire way to get snatched up by the landlord or the property manager. Jem wouldn’t have cared so much a couple days ago. The laundry room was the only safe place to hide. “I had a talk with my boss,” Nate said. “She thinks you’ve got Maturosis or something.” Jem waited for a question. “Is Maturosis real?” “No?” Jem said. “Yes? I don’t know!” He was so utterly humiliated having to talk about this that he was on the verge of turning into a sobbing mess. Knowing that no one would be there to comfort him was the only thing that was holding him together. “Right,” Nate replied as if Jem’s cracking voice and indecision were legitimate answers. “Do you wanna talk to me about it? I can make you a protein shake or something. I brought your stuff back to my place.” Jem blinked away the tears. Might as well get this over with. “Sure. Yeah.” They walked side by side to Nate’s apartment on the other end of the complex from Jem’s. Any lingering hopes that some crazy paternal instinct had been activated inside the dudebro were dashed when they walked in. “Sorry about the mess.” Jem had seen messier. His own apartment in fact. Yeah, there were dishes in the sink, and another laundry basket full of clothes on the couch, but other than that it wasn’t terrible. No baby powder scent. No highchair in the kitchen. Nothing resembling a playpen or parts of a crib that had yet to be assembled. Amazons were supposed to be really good at setting up that sort of thing…when they wanted to. Nate leaned up against his own beige couch, and pretended to be interested in the ceiling. “So…” “So…” Jem echoed. “Did I do this to you?” Yes! Yes, yes, yes! “What do you mean?” “Like…did I do something or say something that made you pee your pants yesterday?” His face scrunched up. “Or like, manipulate you into getting carried around?” How could this wonderful idiot not look in the mirror or hear the sound of his own gentle voice and not know? “Not technically, no.” “Technically? Jem shook his head and rattled his brains. “I mean ‘no’. Nevermind. What else?” “So you wanted to have an accident? And get picked up? And call me…y’know…Daddy? You did all that on purpose?” Could such things really be called acts of free will when the alternative seemed so much the worse? Did a man shooting himself in the foot really have the choice if it felt like there was another gun to his heart? “The Daddy thing was the only accident. Sorry.” “Why?” “Why?” Jem’s face contorted. “If I knew why, it wouldn’t be an accident.” A beat. “Sorry.” “No. Other ‘why’. Why did you do that stuff?” “Sorry,” Jem said again. “I wanted you to…” it was so much harder now that he was saying it out loud. “I wanted you to be my Daddy. Sorry.” “Why?” “You know how some Amazons look at a Little and just wanna…you know?” Nate stopped looking at the ceiling. “Cossetting, yeah.” Without realizing it, Jem had pulled his sleeves over his hands and was twisting them up. “I think I got like…the opposite…for you. Sorry.” The himbo looked confused. “That’s a thing?” “It is for me,” Jem whispered. “But only for you. Sorry.” Nate bobbed his head and moved his lips but no sound came out. He was clearly talking to himself. “Why do you keep saying you’re sorry?” Jem’s face scrunched up like a toddler. His throat closed up and the next words came out squeaky as the tears dripped down his face “Because you…don’t..want…!” “I kinda do, though.” The Little’s heart leapt up into his throat. “You what?” “Dude, I kinda wanted to take you home and rock you to sleep the second I saw you. I was just trying to respect you. You know, as a person, instead of a baby. Not that babies aren’t people, but…” The nature of the tears was turning from one emotion to another. “Yeah,” Jem sniffed. “I…I get it.” “Thing is,” Nate huffed. “If I Adopt you, I don’t know how I’m gonna afford you. Babies can get expensive. Like I bet I could get free daycare, but even diapers can get expensive.” “I could…” Jem ventured…”I could still make and sew baby clothes and stuff. None of my customers know I’m a Little.” He thought about it. “Knowing I’m a Little might help, actually.” Jem hung his head, bracing himself for the incoming rejection. It was a dumb idea, anyways. “Dude! That’s genius!” Jem met the Amazon man’s gaze. “Please don’t call me ‘Dude’.” The dudebro blushed. “Oh. Right. Bad nickname. Bud? Bud.” Bud? Yeah. Better. Jem gave a weak but approving smile. Nate walked around to his couch and sat down next to the laundry basket.. Unbidden Jem followed him around. He waited for Nate to pat his lap. He was relieved that he didn’t have to wait long. He climbed all the way up and sat himself on the big man’s knee, feeling strangely euphoric. “Tell you what, Bud,” Nate said. “Why don’t we try this out? I’ll take a week off from work. We’ll try it out. If we both like it. We’ll Adopt.” “We’ll…?” Jem looked into his maybe-Daddy’s beautiful blue eyes filled with questions. Nate hadn’t mentioned anyone else. Was he going to have to share? “Yeah,” Nate smiled. “You and me, Jem. You and me. We found each other. Baby boy and Daddy.” Jem lost it in the best way.“Oh Daddy!” he cried out, loving the sound of it coming from his lips. “Daddy, Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy Daddy!” He cried and stood up on his Daddy’s lap, giving him the biggest hug, even though there was no way he’d be able to wrap his arms around the giant. That was Daddy’s job! He peppered Nate’s chest and neck and chin with tiny kisses, squeezing him so tight he’d sooner become a tattoo than let go. “Whoah! Bud!” Nate laughed. He threw in a few pecks on Jem’s forehead, anwyas. It was unsurprisingly easy for him to peel the manic Little off his chest. “Jem, what are you doing, baby?” Jem stood balanced on one giant knee. “Huh?” Was he already doing something wrong? “You can’t get that excited, Little boy.” Nate reached over into the laundry basket. From out of it he produced a package of Monkeez. It was a convenience pack, something sold at a convenience store, but it was a start. The Little on the front looked incredibly happy. Jem was about to top it. “Not without getting properly dressed.” ********************************************************************************************* “Good morning, Nathan,” Carmen said a week later. “Welcome back. How was your week off?” Nate stood in the doorway of her office. Her best personal trainer was combed and crisp and clean for work, and had an extra sparkle in his eye. The Little baby on his hip had darker hair and eyes, but there was a distinct matching twinkle. The teddy bear version of her sweat suit line she favored looked good on the forever child. It somehow looked more appropriate without the sneakers covering up the footie parts. A keen eye would reveal that more was different beyond a lack of pretense. Someone had altered the bottom half so that there were snaps along the inseam and up along the crotch, to give caregivers and daycare workers easier access to the Little’s diaper. This Little was diapered, too. Either that or he’d gained the lower equivalent of a beer belly. More interestingly, the zippered front had been redone in snaps, too. If they were Amazonian grade, the Little wouldn’t be strong enough to dress or undress himself without adult help. Most peculiar and fascinating of all, the faded black logo that said ‘Carmen’s Gym’ had been completely replaced with the bright yellow block font of her other business and now the outfit read ‘C.G. Daycare.’ Carmen decided right then that she liked it, and would figure out how to get more. She had an entire back room filled with those things in both pink and blue. The only reason she hadn’t decided to use them as uniforms was because the Little dickenses kept stripping down to their diapers. Nate grinned like the proud papa he’d become and looked over “Pretty good, boss. Pretty good.” “Good. Glad you don’t need paternity leave. Get that cutie checked in next door, and you can show me all the baby pictures you want later.” “Yes ma’am,” the Daddy and his new Little boy accidentally said in unison. They looked at each other and the Little giggled while his Daddy cooed at him. Their enthusiasm and love for each other made Carmen smile as she watched the adorable duo head next door, happy for the both of them. (The End)

In all the multiverse, throughout arcane academia, dragons are some of the most curious and contrarian of creatures. They are renowned for being fearsome, great wyrms, capable of great and terrible deeds of destruction. A dragon’s fiery breath can turn flesh to cinders and melt stone; its scales capable of shattering spears, arrows, and swords. Being made of magic themselves, even great wizards may find it difficult to harm a great winged reptile. They are covetous, spiteful, sinful creatures who hoard wealth and trinkets, pillaging kingdoms and stealing from royalty and the common folk alike, depriving all of valuable resources that might otherwise. And they never die of old age, only violence. Truly, in all the realms, there was never a greater threat to freedom, liberty, and prosperity, than the monsters whose silhouette blacks out the sky. There is truth in all of this, as countless historical records from across time and distance illustrate time and time again, but it is not wholly accurate. There are no deliberate lies or purposeful misinterpretations in these common and time tested assessments, but rather they are incomplete data due to humanity’s collective need to be the center of any moral universe. The truth about dragons is far more interesting and complicated. I have found in my research, experiments and interviews, that a human’s view of dragons is not unlike a fish’s view of a hand. They see something fleshy and grasping plunging down into the river, but their biological experience and mindset is not preprogrammed with the knowledge or understanding that something might be connected to that hand and exist wholly outside the river. Dragons are covetous hoarders, yes, but it is not greed that drives them in the way that human beings lust after material possessions and wealth. Rather, it is constant emotional and mental stimulation that they seek. They are collectors and completionists at heart. Once something takes a dragon’s fancy, they can become obsessed with it for years, decades, or even centuries at a time; with an almost compulsive desire to possess, collect, and know everything about a particular fascination that there is to possess, collect, or know. Neither do they exclusively hoard material wealth. Dragons will go through “phases” (if a decades-long obsession can be called a “phase”) where they become fascinated with all sorts of things. There are dragons who become librarians to uncountable tomes of knowledge, riddles, and jokes. Other wyrms get an itch for rare magical artifacts. Still more take to botany or animal husbandry, and create great gardens and menageries worthy of a sultan. There is at least one documented case of a dragon with a fondness for the collecting and manufacturing of rock candy. When a dragon sets its mind to collecting or learning about something, they cannot help but see it through to its most extreme logical conclusion. This certainly a curse for those who live among the winged lizards, but it can also be a blessing. Once a dragon has seen its obsession through to its logical conclusion, or rather to the point of boredom, it can become careless and carefree on that subject. It is rather easy to take a dragon’s treasure provided the dragon has no further interest in it and intruders are not inclined to violence against the dragon. There are accounts of a wyrm showing a kind of backhanded gratitude at lucky thieves wanting to take away things that no longer held interest to it. Savvy surrounding kingdoms can turn famines into feasts if the end of a dragon’s obsession period is fortuitous enough. That obsessive quality is also what rids kingdoms of dragons outside of violence. To the best of humanity’s collective knowledge, dragons do not die of old age. There are no piles of dragon bones that are not the result of violence of some sort. Instead, dragons just grow progressively stronger and more resilient over time. Yet dragons do not stay on this material plane forever. Eventually, dragons see all that they consider worth seeing, hoard all that they consider worth hoarding, and learn all that they consider worth learning, and just move on. They spread their leathery wings and leave the ground one last time as they shed the surly bonds of earth and take flight into the starry cosmos for a brand new adventure; where they go we know not where. Of particular scholarly debate is the “morality” of dragons. Of their intelligence, there is no dispute. A dragon’s intelligence is roughly on par with its human counterparts. A seventy-two year old dragon has all of the knowledge and wisdom as a seventy-two year old man. The same is true for a one-year old dragon, or a thirteen year old dragon. Yet it lacks the biological infirmities that plague us in our sunset years. Senility and dementia do not plague the wyrms the way it does the clever apes. The fact that dragons’ lifespans are much much longer than ours makes them more than intellectually formidable. But when it comes to morality, despite their intelligence, dragons are relegated to the classification of either evil monsters or savage beasts and nothing could be further from the truth. Dragons are both fiercely intelligent, and highly moral. They just don’t tend to recognize humans as people. On the subject of personhood, it has been gleaned, dragons are what most would consider selfish and self-centered. They do not tend to judge intelligence, language, art, or any of the trappings of civilization as personhood (And why would they? Save when rearing their hatchlings, dragons are notoriously solitary). Instead, they judge personhood based on how much they personally relate to any given individual or population. This is why kingdoms that are uncommunicative have the most violent and aggressive dragons to deal with. The bear cares not for the bees when it wants to eat honey. The villager reviles the rats that nest in their house. It is most fortunate then, that dragons rarely classify other beings according to their outward physical characteristics, but upon a sometimes random and mercurial set of behavioral attributes. A wyrm’s imagination is a powerful thing, indeed, and it is as like to imprint upon both curious collector as well as a warrior king. Like recognizes like, though due to its own egocentric nature a dragon is most likely to spare a human for being a ‘tiny scaleless dragon’ than for being anything resembling an equal. -An excerpt from “A Traveler’s Guide to Devils, Dragons, and Demi-Gods, Author Unknown” His name was not “Abe”. Dragon names cannot be pronounced by pests or understood in ways that made sense to their pest brains. A dragon’s name is a description about everything that has happened to the dragon and their relationship to the world around them, and it is said all at once with voice, volume, eyes, body language, odor, and breath. But for the sake of brevity, let’s call him Abe. Abe slept atop his one remaining pile of gold deep in the center of his lair. The mountain didn’t start as a hollowed out system of interconnected tunnels. Only through much careful digging and melting of once solid rock was he able to make something so livable and comfortable. Not content to remain in an already established cave as he did when he was a centenarian, he got the idea when a nasty little pest intruded in on him. After the nasty little zapper was killed, Abe found several tiny books on a multitude of subjects, the most interesting among them was architecture. The dragon spent the next several years reading up on the subject as well as geology until he had a near perfect theoretical knowledge on the subject. It took him less than a year afterwards to craft his new home from scratch as it were. Naturally, once it was complete he needed to fill it with things. A home without form or function was just a series of empty rooms. There needed to be a gaming and trophy room, a dining room, a kitchen, a bedroom, a living room, a room for entertaining company and so forth. At one point during the lair’s construction, Abe put in a nursery; not because he intended to raise a clutch of eggs, but because that’s what was done when building a house. Several fascinating books said so and those books in turn led Abe to discover even more books dedicated to the specifics on making the best type of a particular room: The best living room, the best kitchen, the best nursery, and so on. It had been wholly satisfying learning so many intricate and interesting details, which had in turn taught him how to work with wood and stone masonry. Abe couldn’t decide if a mountain lair should have a basement or an attic (neither to be confused with a wine cellar) so he installed both and used them to store the brick-a-brack that he had grown bored with but was yet reluctant to toss away. One never knew when something might come in handy, or when sentiment and nostalgia would flare up again. Annoyingly, after enough time, pests spread into the surrounding hills, and they inevitably tried to infest Abe’s lair. That had necessitated Abe learn the delicate and time honored tradition of trap making; and for that bit of amusement, Abe was passably grateful. The lava pits doubled as heating and it gave him the inspiration to redirect aquifers to make his own bathing chamber. Eventually, the pests must have discovered that he wasn’t particularly interested in what he stored in the attic and basement and so swarmed up there from time to time. It was for the best, he decided. One only needed so much gold to sleep on and so many jewels to scrape one’s fangs. Anything else was showing off and the pests seemed to like the useless shiny things. Presently, Abe tossed and turned in his sleep, unable to get comfortable on his bed of gold and silk. He wasn’t sleepy, yet he didn’t want to open his eyes. Opening his eyes would mean that the day had started and then he’d have to find something to do to occupy his time. That was just depressing. The only thing worse than constantly napping and sleeping due to boredom, was the restlessness that followed upon waking. In the back of his mind, Abe knew it might be time to move on and explore as his mother had before him, but he’d yet to come to that acceptance. Nothing excited him when he looked up at the grand cosmos, yet he felt nothing when he considered more earthly pursuits. It was like looking at the menu and realizing one wasn’t hungry; old boring favorites still held more allure than risky foreign cuisine. Abe did not know it, but he was the oldest dragon that had yet to move on, and as the oldest he was very likely the strongest. Strength did not matter overmuch after a certain point, but it made pests more ambitious and fearful by different turns. Sometimes, the pests still provided amusement, however fleeting. Concerning pests, a grating, moaning, jabbering sound caused Abe to stir from his non-slumber. From his sleeping pile, he opened his eyes and spied a shambling, moaning, mass of metal carapace. A pest. One of the ones that donned false scales and carried false claws that were too big to fit in their tiny paws so they had to be carried. They were more common, and less annoying than the fuzzy zappers who shrieked and conjured up a poor facsimile of a dragon’s proper blazing breath. So that’s what the noise he’d heard coming from from above, closer to the attic, had been. Another infestation of pests rummaging and stumbling around the attic. Stupid, silly, short lived things. One had made it past his pest traps and was likely here for the gold he wasn’t done sleeping on. Rising to his full height, Abe looked down at the tiny thing and scowled. “Pest,” he said, more to himself. The pest froze, shuddered in its spot, said something in what passed for language-Abe couldn’t tell what it said-and fell down dead. Abe huffed in annoyance. “Damnable pest,” he said. “Made it all the way to his bedroom just so it could start rotting in the very center of his home. Now he’d have to get up and toss it outside. It was a big one too, a two hander for sure. The idea of having to touch the dead thing with his hands made his breathing go shallow. Gross. Very gross. Maybe he could just cremate it; melt the carapace into the floor and scatter the ashes…but then he might accidentally breathe in pest ashes. “Ew…” Another pathetic moan interrupted the dragon’s pontifications. The pest was still alive? Curiouser and curiouser, Abe circled around the busted and cracking metal carapace. He’d never heard a pest make that sound before. Come to think of it, he wasn’t used to hearing the pests make those kinds of sounds at all. Normally, they were loud and guttural, shouting what passed for death threats and cries for courage in their limited languages that used only voice. This sound? It was different. And familiar. Vaguely familiar from a time long ago that Abe barely remembered himself. Fortunately, dragon memories are second to none, and he did remember. With one single claw, he gently poked and prodded at the carapace. C-RRRRRACK! Abe’s serpentine head snapped back in surprise. “What’s happening?” In reply, he only got more mumbling and mewling. Mewling? Yes, ‘mewling’ sounded about right as far as descriptors went. Weak and pathetic, but not something that elicited disgust. The pest inside lightly wriggled and its shell continued to split open. Split open? Crack? Like an egg! Yes! This was not a carapace or a bit of false skin. Yes, it had those things in common but in the big scheme of things everything could be like something else. What this was most like, Abe was concluding, was an egg. He’d read about this sort of thing before; had seen it in birds, and sort of remembered it in the nest when the last of his siblings had hatched. “You’re not stealing…you’re…hatching?” The thing inside the egg, for it was indeed an egg in Abe’s view, made more sounds which the great wyrm took as a kind of involuntary confirmation. “Yes. Hatching. And…you need help?” Considering the thing inside the egg hadn’t been born yet, Abe didn’t expect a coherent response and was not disappointed when he didn’t comprehend the reply. What Abe could never appreciate is that human languages, especially the spoken ones, advanced much more quickly than draconic. What was in fashion a mere five hundred years ago and perfectly serviceable quickly became ‘olde’ to the point of extinction as it mutated generation after generation. Not understanding a word coming from the inside the egg (and once again, why would he?) Abe did the only thing he considered conscionable. He helped the little thing hatch, gently prying the egg open, chipping away at it with his claws so that the wet and slimy thing on the inside could be free and come into the world. Carefully, the dragon took the top part of the shell of last so that finally air would come into the little thing’s lungs. Abe felt himself analyzing it. It looked familiar. Vaguely familiar. He’d seen a few illustrations of such a creature, so pink, and lacking any kind of scales. Helpless. Cute. It had more hair than the illustrations had led him to believe was normal, but such illustrations were often wrong. According to many of his books, for example all the measurements on every piece of furniture that he crafted were completely off and had to be scaled up to appropriate size so that a proper dragon could make use of them. Who made furniture that tiny? So it was easy to believe that something that just hatched wouldn’t look quite like the illustrations he’d seen. It certainly SMELLED like what he imagined a hatchling would smell like. A single word spilled out of the adorably vulnerable creatures lips. Not even a word, but a bit of babbling like an infant that hadn’t yet learned to talk. “Dada”. That was when the real magic happened in Abe’s brain: The magic of empathy and imagination fueled by fascination and complete certainty that his way was the right way. This wasn’t a pest, Abe realized. He’d read about this! He vaguely remembered being one himself! This! Was! A! “BABY!” At the sound of its name, the baby opened its mouth and gave one giant bawling yelp of affirmation. Then, just like the books had said, the poor little tyke passed out and emptied its bladder right there in the dragon’s arms. “D’AWWWW!” That settled matters in Abe’s mind. This was a baby. It might not be exactly like a dragon hatchling, but it had enough in common from everything he remembered about his own childhood and everything he’d read that it was dragon enough. He too had once been weak and helpless, but proper nourishment and loving care had enabled him to grow mighty and strong. The baby even knew its name! How cute! Just as importantly, more importantly, in fact, Abe now had a reason to use that nursery he’d created. This? This would not be boring! Wings tucked, he gently carried the sleeping babe in his arms through twisting labyrinthine tunnels that he hadn’t been through in decades. Along the way, for many babies were scared of the dark until their night vision developed, he lit torches. They had been purely ceremonial until now and it gave Abe a sense of satisfaction to use them. “Here we are,” Abe cooed, even though he knew the baby was unconscious. It’s not that he expected a proper conversation, the thing had just been born. The great dragon just knew how important it was to introduce them to language early. How else would they learn to talk? For the time being, more pressing matters were brought to the dragon’s attention, such as hygiene. With much doting excitement, Abe laid the baby on the changing table he’d crafted. Like all things Abe dedicated himself to, it was perfect and held the tiny thing well with raised sides that couldn’t be easily rolled over when the little tyke got squirmy. He looked down and examined between the sleeping babe’s legs. Its diaper was sorely lacking; nothing more than a thin membrane of cloth that was drenched and reeked of ammonia. To call it “leaky” would be like calling a “sieve” leaky; implying at least partial effectiveness. He doubted this would contain even a solid bowel movement. Whomever had diapered the baby in its egg had done a poor job. Something about that sentence felt off, but Abe had never felt a great need to investigate childbirth or medicine before that, and so he dismissed it out of hand. The facts, he reasoned, were right under his nose and as indisputable as they were adorable. Even though he had never worn diapers himself, he’d read enough and seen enough of the lesser races- pests, giant pests, tiny green pests- to get the general idea. “Hmmm,” he grumbled to himself. “No pins? No knots either?” How was he supposed to get this off and on? Practicality and impatience took over. Abe reached down and tore the used diaper apart at the sides, ruining it beyond even the mere illusion of functionality. “It’s not as if I was going to use this one again,” Abe said to himself. Then he remembered the baby. “No I wasn’t!” he cooed. “No I wasn’t! Daddy wasn’t going to use this old diaper ever again. It’s much too thin and flimsy for my special…” he glanced down between the child’s legs, “...boy! My special boy!” A quick gout of flame caused the useless diaper to burst into flames and sprinkle down to the cave floor as ash. Taking a washcloth (that unknown to Abe had long ago been a noble family’s proud coat of arms) the dragon daddy dunked the cloth into a water basin and gently dabbed and wiped at his new baby’s tender nether regions. Technically, Abe reminded himself, all areas of a baby were tender, especially one born without scales. That only added the amount of care he took in wiping the child clean. “My little man isn’t going to get a rash. Not on Daddy’s watch!” To think him a Daddy: the very thought was absurd in the most delightful way. The baby started to stir and babble something to himself. Abe made a note to himself to warm the wash water next time. No doubt it was the coldness that woke the baby up. “It’s okay,” he shushed the boy. “Daddy’s here. Daddy’s just making you nice and comfy.” He crossed the child’s ankles and housed them up with one claw. With the other, he slid a fresh (and properly thick) diaper beneath the child’s rather skinny rump. “Babies aren’t supposed to be this thin,” Abe said. “Daddy’s gonna have to fatten you up. Yes he is! Yes he is!” While he cooed and played with the baby, he grabbed a vial of sweet smelling powder and dusted it in on the child’s backside and groin in order to prevent chafing and protect against rash. Carefully, he reached into a basket by the foot of the changing table and removed several safety pins that he had scavenged when he had built this model nursery. They were tiny, only five inches or so, but then again so was the baby. He put the pins in his mouth, while he finished what would no doubt be the first of many changes. The baby’s eyes softly fluttered open from dreamland just as Abe was pulling the fresh diaper up between the baby’s legs, forcing them apart. Newborn hatchlings couldn’t walk, so it hardly mattered if it threw off a hypothetical gait. The child let out a groaning burble as his eyes started coming into focus. It sounded fearful. Abe quickly and carefully fastened the ends of the diaper snugly together, pinning them in place so that the soft absorbent material was snug. Being in a fresh diaper did nothing to ease the child’s screams. “This won’t do,” Abe cooed in draconic. He wanted the baby to associate diaper changes and being taken care of with happy times. “This won’t do at all.” He attempted to make funny faces at the child but the screaming and tears only got worse. The child somehow managed to roll over and start crawling away from him towards the edge of the changing table. “Oh oh oh, careful, baby.” Abe gently cooed. “You’re very, very, tiny still. That’s a long way down at your age.” The dragon tried to remember how the world must have looked when he was all of five foot ten. Tenderly, the great wyrm scooped the child up and rocked him gently, hoping to give the tender fleshed baby comfort. “Shhhh…shhhh….” he said. “Shhh….shhh….” This only made things worse and the little tyke in his arms bawled louder. Abe tried pacing the nursery, and bouncing the child slightly, but that had not had the desired effect. Abe tried singing a hatchling’s song that he still remembered, but the child was obviously not a fan. When the little rugrat wasn’t trying to fall out of the dragon’s arms, he was screaming and covering his face as though certain doom was about to befall him. “I just changed you,” Abe said more to himself than the child. He started ticking off what he could remember about basic childcare on his claws. “I rocked you. I sang you a lullaby. What could the matter be, little one?” His reptilian eyes looked at the boy’s thin stomach, and saw the peculiar hole in the middle of it, just above the diaper. He didn’t know what that was about, at least the baby didn’t seem to be in pain, but it did cause the dragon to smack his head in recognition. “Of course!” he chided himself. “I haven’t fed you! You’ve just been hatched and I haven’t fed you!” Abe took to three legs and started thundering out of the nursery, carrying the child. He hadn’t done any kind of research on what babies ate. He recalled, however, that some drank from something called breasts, while others drank from bottles. Breasts, Abe did not have. But he had many bottles in great supply. “Dadaaaaaaa!” The baby screamed. “Dada dada dada dada!” “Just a second,” Abe hushed, while maneuvering the precise network of tunnels to just the right spot in his lair. Lesser, non-dragon-like creatures would get lost or fall into any number of traps. But not Abe. And in time, his new baby would come to memorize it too. That was a matter for later, however, and there was no sense in worrying about the future when the present was at stake. “I know you’re hungry,” he said. “Dada is getting you a bottle right now. Would you like that? Would you? I bet you would! I bet you would!” Just calling himself “Dada” had an effect on Abe. He felt more than amused. He was excited. Tickled! Thrilled! He was quite sure that he’d never felt this way before. Over five hundred years and he was beginning to feel a new emotion. How exhilarating. His attempts at baby talk to soothe the baby were met with more wailing. “DADAAAAAAAA!” Some things, Abe chuckled to himself, couldn’t be remedied with simple verbal affection. Fortunately, Abe was fleet of foot, almost as fast on land as he was in the sky, and had tread this path many times in the past. Some might say too many times. Abe lit the torches in this new room with quick tiny gouts of flame from his nostrils, one at a time, so the poor little half blind baby wouldn’t be afraid. After the third or fourth puff, he gave up. The baby didn’t need to see, he just needed to be fed! The gargantuan dragon tiptoed around the racks of bottles he had amassed and collected over the years. From them he took a small green bottle with a cork in it. “Ah!” Abe remarked. “This should work!” Dexterously, he uncorked the bottle and slid it up to the infant’s lips. “Here you go, little one. Drink up. It’s juice! Nummy nummy juice!” “Dada! Dada!” The new father chuckled good naturedly, but still worried. What would he do if he couldn’t get this poor little thing to eat? “Yes, my sweet baby boy,” he cooed. “I’m Dada. Now drink. Drink it up.” He used just a tiny amount of force and pressed the mouth of the bottle to the baby’s lips. The poor pathetic hatchling tried to scream “Dada” again, but once the bottle’s contents sloshed into the baby’s mouth, a very different, very surprised look came over him. For the first time, beautiful brown eyes gazed up in recognition of the dragon. “Tastes good?” Abe asked. As if in reply, the baby put his mouth on the bottle and took another sip. He licked his lips and smacked them, the way Abe often did when something unexpected yet delicious found its way onto his palette. Like father, like son. The baby took the bottle with both tiny hands and started gulping down the contents. Abe sighed in relief. Everything was going to be okay. The baby would drink. “That’s right,” the father lizard coaxed. “Drink it up. That’s a good boy. Good baby.” The more of the juice he gulped from the green glass bottle, the more content the infant seemed to be. The baby’s muscles started to untense. His eyes, once so fearful and wary, now seemed to glaze over with content. Dragons, being natural hoarders, and long lived besides, Abe went through a phase when he collected and stored every fine spirit he could find. He read many sources that indicated that the drinking of such things could cause great pleasure. Abe experimented with it for some time, but ultimately decided against it. The juice was tasty enough, to be certain, but the sample sizes were much too small to be of much pleasure. The quantities were all far too small, and the potency of the stuff much too weak to affect him. The only reason Abe had finished stuffing racks and racks and racks with the stuff was because once he started something, it wasn’t in his nature to stop. The grape juice sated the infant cradled in his arms, however. Abe was suddenly very glad he had finished this side project so long ago. If he hadn’t, he might not have had anything to give his new baby to drink. That certainly wouldn’t have made him a good father. Lazily the baby lulled his head and removed the bottle from his lips, eliciting a loud belch accompanied by happy, contented babbling. Abe took the bottle from him and swished it around. “Still half left.” He considered giving the baby the rest of it, but the child seemed content as he was. Babies could be trusted to know when they were hungry or not. They just couldn’t be trusted to hold their bladders. “We’ll finish this later,” he promised, recorking the bottle and sliding it back into the rack where he found it. “You did a good job!” He told his baby. “Such a good little drinker!” “Hyuk!” The baby let out a jolting half-gasping sound. “Hyuk!” Abe began walking upright again, repositioning the newborn over his shoulder. “Windy pops, eh?” he said good naturedly. “Can’t have that. Those can get mighty uncomfortable, I hear.” Walking slowly back through the turning and twisting tunnels, Abe patted the child gently but firmly on the back. First he’d pat the back with the flat of his palm, gently thudding the boy. Then he’d rub the back in tight and tiny circles, massaging him. “Urp!” Came the reply. “Good baby,” Abe said, and kept going. “Urp!” Good baby!” He gave the child’s bottom a gentle, soothing pat, too. “Keep going. Keep trying.” “Urp!” The dragon waited for his adopted child to burp again, but no belches came. No hiccups did either. The great old wyrm huffed to himself with contentment and satisfaction. This wasn’t so hard, yet it felt highly rewarding. On his way back to the nursery, Abe stopped by his kitchen, removing from his meat locker it a shank of salted mammoth. Parenting was hard work and he could use a light snack. “Off to bed with you, child,” he told his new charge when they re-entered the nursery, “and then your Dada will have some num-nums of his own.” He roasted a shank of meat with his breath and took a bite. The baby began sniffling, again. Abe braced himself for another bout of wailing cries. Clearly, he’d spoken too soon. No cries came. “Dada?” Abe looked to the child. He was staring at the meat, his little pink tongue licking his lips, a healthy sheen of drool forming. His tiny hands stretched out, trying to reach across his daddy’s scaly chest to get at the meat. “Oh no no no,” Abe said, holding the meat away from his precious bundle of joy “This isn’t for…” He stopped himself. He recognized the look of longing on the little boy’s face. A growl of hunger rumbled in the boy’s stomach. He’d just had some juice. Maybe juice wasn’t enough. Thinking back on it, Abe’s mother had told him that she’d fed him his first bit of meat when he was less than a day old. Why shouldn’t it be the same for his baby. Plus, it would give him a chance to try the highchair. “I better not be spoiling you,” Abe said. Both he and the baby knew that he’d given in. Abe lowered the child into the highchair. The baby looked around, more amazed and amused than afraid and confused. A fresh diaper with some grape juice and the child was already becoming more and more dragon-like. His face had gone so far as to take on an attractive reddish hue. Just like his Daddy. If any doubt lingered that Abe was keeping this baby for his own, that stray thought sent it up in a puff of smoke. He put a bit of charred meat on his claw. Playfully, he waggled it around, inching closer and closer to the child. “Heeeeere coooomes the man-ti-cooooore!” Delightedly, the child laughed and clapped his hands. “Hee-hee-hee-heee-heee!” Some things were universal. “Heeeere coooomes the man-ti-coooore!” “Hee-heee-hee-hee-heee!” Abe plopped the bit of meat into the child’s lips just as the laughter was dying down. Just as with the juice, the baby’s eyes lit up in delight and surprise. His mouth closed on the mammoth steak and he started chewing. “MMMMMMM!” Oh to be young again, and be able to experience everything for the first time. The tastes! The sounds! The smells! The simple pleasures of chewing on meat! Though in a way, Abe supposed, he could. He could rediscover his love for those things vicariously through his child. “Ah!” The baby said. “Ah! Ah!” “Hungry little thing, aren’t you?” “Ah! Ah!” Abe gladly obliged. “Heeeere cooooomes the man-ti-cooooore!” The baby snapped up the bit with gusto, chewing happily with his mouth open and giggling and giggling. Half a dozen tiny pieces later, and the baby’s head was finally starting to droop. “I think that’s enough, little one,” the daddy dragon said. “Dada,” the baby yawned, stretching his arms out and leaning back in his highchair. Abe quickly devoured the rest of his snack. The baby’s stomach was so small that there was more than enough left for him. It was such a small thing to share the meal. Small, yet infinitely gratifying; just like the baby himself. Another yawn, and the daddy dragon lifted his tiny adopted hatchling out of the highchair while his arms were still up stretched towards the ceiling. His soft and tender form draped itself over his Daddy’s shoulder. “Poor little guy,” Abe whispered.”Someone’s had a very busy first day.” There was no question about that. Abe carted the child over to his crib, humming that same dragon lullaby to himself. With a full belly and a clean diaper, his baby didn’t seem to mind it this time. A quick inspection and Abe corrected himself. The condition of the diaper wasn’t a factor at all. “Wet,” Abe noticed. He glanced back over at the changing table and then down into the nice soft crib. “But not too wet.” Changing could wait. He also didn’t want his baby crying everytime he had a wet diaper. Laundry would now be on the chore list for the foreseeable future, and he didn’t want to make more work for himself than was necessary. Also, he didn’t want his adopted child to panic or worry every time he woke up wet, as it was perfectly natural for a baby. Best to get him used to sleeping wet, too. Slowly and softly, he lowered his new, most treasured thing into the world and pecked him on top of the forehead. “Goodnight my little prince,” he said, before blowing out the torchlight in the nursery. In loving reply. He heard a happy sounding babble and then, “Dada.” ************************************************************************************************* Sir Albrecht laid behind the massive wooden bars of what he supposed was a crib. His belly full of wine and roast meat, it was getting harder and harder to keep awake. The half a bottle he’d chugged had lowered his inhibitions and loosened his bladder to the point where he’d wet himself yet again but didn’t mind so much. The diaper held it nicely. “I could get used to this,” he mumbled drunkenly to himself. “Real used to...” he started drifting off and belched himself awake. In Albrecht’s homeland, there were only two ways that a knight could fall into disgrace: Being caught with a dead girl in your bed or a live boy. The latter had happened to him, and thus he’d been sent on this suicidal penance quest. “Some penance,” Albrecht licked his lips. “A hot meal. A soft bed.” He wriggled his bum beneath the sheets, “and a thick diaper. That’s plenty good. Plennnnn-ty good.” He inhaled deeply, enjoying the odd mixture of smells; the wine still on his breath and the powder still coating his bum. “Plenty good indeed.” They didn’t have dragons where Albrecht came from. So he didn’t know how dastardly clever they could be with their tricks and traps and winding tunnels that you could get lost in and starve to death. It’s a wonder he made it as far as he did before his cheap armor finally cracked around him. He also didn’t know how intelligent, or frankly insane, the great beasts could be. Never in a billion years would the knight have guessed this is how his quest would end. And it had ended. For some reason, this big lizard thought he was a baby of some sort, and Albrecht was in no hurry to disabuse him of that notion. As soon as his brains stopped rattling around in his skull and he realized the dragon wasn’t going to roast him or impale him, Albrecht started playing the part. The strength of the alcohol in his blood helped too. The biggest problem with childhood, by his reasoning, was that you were too young to really appreciate it. Love, food, and someone big and strong to play with you and protect you? Yeah. That was nice. Very nice. “Let’s just see how this plays out,” he yawned. The babified knight finally let his eyes close, and he drifted off into a drunken slumber; knowing but not caring that he’d probably be more soaked and in need of changing when he woke up. That was the dragon’s problem, and the crazy thing absolutely swooned whenever he called it by name. What neither Albrecht, nor Abe knew, was that in Albrecht’s native tongue the word for “Dragon” sounded suspiciously like the sound that a young hatchling would make when calling out to its father, or “Dada”. The End.

This is my first post! I've been reading a lot of your posts/comments since December 2022 when I first joined. My interest / journey in diapers started in December 2022 when I was looking for a solution for my polyuria. It's been somewhat of a "joke" with my friends that I'm always running to the bathroom. I'll pee once and then have to go again 20 minutes later... and again... and again. It doesn't interrupt my sleep too often, but it does maybe once or twice a week. I know cutting out coffee / alcohol would be the solution, but why cut them out when I can just throw on a diaper?! Has anyone else here started diapering for their polyuria? I've enjoyed every minute of having a diaper on. I wear them around the house while doing chores / watching TV, out sometimes while doing errands, and to bed (maybe 3 nights / week). The main thing I haven't done is changed my diaper out of the house. Although I'm not 24/7, I'm considering it for the future. Is it easier to have zero bladder control OR know when I'm going but in the comfort of my diaper? It's just such a relief to not have to run to the bathroom all the time. It didn't take me too long to be comfortable enough to go in my diaper. I wear them sometimes at night but I can only release if I'm bent over on my stomach. I've had a few leaks, but nothing too major. I started with Assurance pull-ups and have since "upgraded" to Assurance briefs with tabs. My issue is that I have a 31" waist, so I have to tape one tab onto the other... it doesn't make the diaper feel secure enough. I just purchased FitRight OptiFit Ultra Briefs because the size ranges seem like they'll fit more securely. I'd love to try ConfiDry or MegaMax, but I'm trying to stay under $1/diaper. Any recommendations? Also, any powder recommendations? I have diapers, onesies (which oddly cause my diapers to leak more easily - any thoughts?), and wipes, but no powder yet. I love being a part of this supportive community and am enjoying every step of my journey!

I figured there would be more with Rebecca. I wonder if Mommy ever found out what she did the first day and if she ever did it again. I wonder how mommy would react if she knew. I do know that Rebecca should not have done what she did and definitely should have been punished for it. I guess she could have been wrecked with guilt and went to Beth and told her. No matter, it was a very interesting story. I knew Beth had something to do with his wetting at the beginning. Though I didn't even think that she targeted him from the start. Good story

***Present-Day*** (Epilogue) As I stared up at the ceiling, getting prepped for another diaper change at my party, I couldn’t help but think that this had been such a long and strange journey. I sucked my pacifier intensely as I took in the whole scene around me; they were all here for my “2nd birthday”; life really was stranger than fiction. As much as I’d been regressed, I still maintained a lot of my faculties in understanding what was going on around me. Even though I’d “progressed” to a level that was appropriate to a 2-year-old, Mommy and the rest of my “care team” deemed it fit for me to stay there on an indefinite hold. Mommy had tried potty training me, but I couldn’t get it out of my head that I enjoyed pottying in my pants too much to move into underwear, so I just kind of stayed here. At some point, Mommy decided that I was happy where I was, and because my happiness was so important for her, she just kept the treatment up. No one objected, treating it as completely normal, and here is where I ultimately found myself, in an endless stream of 2nd birthdays. As I layed looking up at the ceiling, my pants coming down, my thoughts were interrupted; I heard a familiar voice. “Happy Birthday, baby sisterrrr!” That voice, it could only belong to one person! It was Samantha! She finally came! I looked in the direction, further confirming my ecstatic suspicions: there was the mini-me of Mommy that I’d come to adore as my big sister after all of these years. “A-manthwa!” I smiled super happily, my bottom popping up, to a surprised Mommy, who hadn’t quite started the diaper change “Hold on there sweetie, Mommy needs to get a clean di-dee on you,” Mommy laughed. “Mom, I can take care of it,” Samantha said, kneeling down, “I’ve missed this little cutie soooo much!” “Whatever floats your boat,” Mommy said laughing, then getting up and handing Samantha a clean diaper, “have fun!” Samantha kneeled down, setting the diaper down and grabbing a few wipes out of the packet next to her. I was beyond excited; if there was anyone I was closer to than Mommy, it might have been Samantha. We’d had a rocky and awkward start, but she was my best friend now, well, as best of friends a 2 and a 20-something could be. “Oh Jac-y, your cousins and I picked out a grrrreat present for you! I can’t wait for you to see it!” Samantha told me as she went through the process of my diaper change. Just as methodical as her mom usually was, she wiped my bottom and my girly areas and had my bottom up and a new diaper taped around it rather quickly, all while treating happily it like it was the first time she’d done it. Pulling up my leggings, she helped me up and patted my bottom, “All done little sister, let’s go open your presents!”, I took her hand and let her lead while she used the other to carry my used diaper to throw it away in a nearby garbage can. “Guess what? It’s present time, aren’t you just the most excited little girl?” Samantha sweetly sung. “Pwesents good ‘Amanfwa”, I lisped back, clutching her hand, which held mine in a fairly strong grip. “Oh yes sister, did YOU know that *I* love presents too?” She asked me like it was the first time I could comprehend something of the sort. I nodded accordingly, following her lead into the living room. The room was filled by everyone; Mommy was sitting by a large pile of presents and a cake. She patted the couch, and Samantha let go of my hand, and instinctually, I toddled in Mommy’s direction, ultimately parking my diapered bottom on her lap, with Samantha coming and sitting next to us. “Oh my gosh, what a cute picture!” Auntie Dana exclaimed. “Aren’t you all just the most adorable family?” Auntie Claudia asked, almost rhetorically. Almost on cue, the two of them had their phones out, taking turns snapping pictures of our smiling faces in front of the cake and Mt. Present. The cake itself was beautiful; it was a “My Little Pony” cake emblazoned with “Happy Birthday Jaclyn” across it. The cake had layers with a rainbow on top, each layer looked like a diorama of sorts, complete with a pony figurine. In my previous life, I’d loved art, and probably would have admired this design in some way. Now? Cake sounded yummy, I went right for the chocolate-y goodness that I knew would be inside, and soon began destroying the cake. More photo opportunities came from this spectacle, with everyone laughing. “Woah-oh, save some for the rest of us baby girl,” Mommy laughed, “you’re gonna make your pretty little outfit all dirty!” Pretty soon, my hands and face were covered in chocolate cake; I think I had more on me than I’d probably eaten. It was a sight to behold, and more pictures were taken. Mommy started cleaning me up with baby wipes (there was a reason she left a package in every room, I guess), and soon announced it was time to open presents. I sat back in her lap, and Samantha brought me presents, which I dutifully opened one by one. I’d finally gone through them all, and I looked around for more. Cassidy told me there was a big one coming. I didn’t see any; it didn’t look like there were any else, and finally Samantha spoke up. “Little sister, your cousins and I got you a really special surprise, do you wanna see it?” I nodded enthusiastically; what little girl didn’t love presents? Apparently big girls like Samantha did too, she’d told me after all. “Well, come with me then,” she stood up, putting her hand out. I looked up at a grinning Mommy, who nodded at me to go. I took and held on to Samantha’s hand as she, Cassidy, and Caitlyn were finally ready to unveil my “great surprise. They led me to the garage, all was about to be revealed. The door opened, and I squealed in toddler delight when I saw it. I couldn’t believe it. It was a car. Not just ant cat either, it was a pink Land Rover, and most importantly to me, it was all mine. I waddled over opened the door and jumped in the front seat, grinning from ear to ear from behind my pacifier. “I big giwl! I big wike Mommy and ‘Amanfwa!” “Oh yes you are Princess! You get your own car now to drive around like Mommy and Samantha!” Cassidy smiled. “Sister smiles!” Samantha instructed cheerfully, snapping photos with her cell phone while I cheerfully smiled back. After taking what probably amounted to 10 rolls of film, Samantha walked over and turned the plastic ignition switch, the 12V battery made a whirring noise, and I hit the “gas”, lurching the plastic vehicle forward. “Looks like the battery is charged,” Caitlyn laughed, “don’t waste it in one place, little cousin!” I drove the car in a circle, squealing with happiness and sprinkling pee into my diaper, my big sister and cousins cheering me on. I had a birthday for the ages, surrounded by my most favorite people. It was an incredibly awesome feeling. That night, as I was changed into my night diaper by Mommy, she looked down at me. “Did you just have the best birthday ever, Princess?” I nodded. “What was your favorite?” “Big giwl car, ‘Amanfwa,” I lisped behind my pacifier. “Aww, I’m so happy she’s here too, and that present she and your cousins picked out was so adorable too, I know she was excited to get it for you, they all were.” Mommy continued, “I know these things really mean the world to your sister, especially since she’s moved out. She’s going to be up here in a few minutes to kiss you goodnight.” I couldn’t help but have a warm feeling inside, I felt like a hole in my being had been filled by these random strangers I met on an Internet chat room over a decade ago. It seemed like a completely different lifetime. Mommy finished putting my new diaper on and getting me dressed for bed, before putting her arms around me. “How about some birthday cuddles and num-nums from Mommy, would you like that?” I nodded. Mommy picked me up, put me on her hip and moved to the rocking chair by my crib. She put me across her and unclipped her bra. I latched on and began suckling rhythmically; she cradled my head as support. The rhythm had its intended effect, as I began to nod off, a trickle of pee moving into my diaper. Mommy kissed my head as I suckled. “I love you so much Princess.” I snuggled closer, falling into the sands of sleep. This was bliss, my own world of infantile bliss. I wouldn’t have it any other way. Unconventional as it may be, I don’t think there was a happier little girl than me at that moment. This was truly the life that I was meant to live. THE END ****** That’s a wrap. Thanks for everyone who followed Jaclyn through her journey! She will be returning soon, though. Two more are in the works! Jaclyn’s Adventures in Diapers Part 2: A Sisterly Bond And Jaclyn’s Adventure in Diapers Part 3: Jaclyn’s Potty Training

Happy Thursday? ?

Okay now I'm here on lunch in the break room at work, CRYING. Thanks

Chapter 27: Dark Creatures THAT NIGHT AT dinner, Camille and our new friends all pumped us for information on her powers testing and our class schedules. “Now we just need to figure out who can go with Sofia to each class,” Hannah finished. “Well, I have Magic Theory at the same time,” Camille told her, “and Knag and I both have Magical I at the same time too.” Lizi nodded at the mention of her name. “We can just go straight from lunch over there,” she assured Hannah and me. “I have the same section of Powers Fundamentals, too,” she added. “I have the Advanced Martial Arts class with her,” Volango piped in as I watched her munching on what had to be her fourth or fifth banana. Beth was obsessed with them, even if she tried to deny it! “That only leaves Mythical Fundamentals,” Camille said. “Anyone taking that section?” She asked the friends sitting around the table. I watched as everyone shook their heads. “Guess I get to be on my own for once,” I said, sort of happy and terrified simultaneously. Hannah frowned, “How far is it from my history class to there?” “It’s pretty much on the other side of the campus,” Hailey said. “Look, it’ll be okay; I’m not ever really alone,” I reminded her. She nodded, “I guess.” “So, you both are starting tomorrow?” Esmie asked. “Yeah,” I said before popping my bottle into my mouth. Esmie smiled at me, “You are so cute!” I just blushed and kept nursing the bottle until it was empty, and Hannah replaced it with my pacifier. I just took in the conversations around the table and tried to keep track of everything. Stories of student feuds like Streaked and me, others about villains’ actions in other towns, and horror stories of the EPC and Sanguis Primum continually were told. Something was always discussed that made everything feel completely unreal. When everyone finished eating, I jumped down from the table to return to the dorm. I thought I would get a chance to walk, but Beth picked me up and put me on her shoulders for a piggyback ride. “The view better up there?” She asked me. I sighed, “I miss this being the view.” Or at least, I sort of said that through my pacifier. “You’ll get used to it,” she assured me, “trust me.” I didn’t say anything in response as we walked back to Trident. Once there, everyone ended up in our room for some last details. “Okay, so Sofia can’t change herself. It looks like I’ll be able to be there for a lot of her changes, but if she needs it, can you all change her?” Camille smiled, “I’ll be happy to help!” Beth looked a bit uncomfortable, “I’ve never changed a diaper before,” she admitted. “Well, there’s a first time for everything,” Hannah said and suddenly put me on the changing table. “Do you…” I started to say and then felt the warning look from Hannah and the internal warning from Caireen. ‘This is what I’m talking about, Sofia,’ she said. I sighed, “Get it over with, please…?” I looked at Hannah. “Okay, Beth, you’ve at least got a good baby here to change. She doesn’t wriggle around like her sister!” I smirked at that! Lily was a wriggle worm most of the time when she needed changed! “Okay, the first thing you’re going to do if you’ve got a table is strapping her down so she can’t accidentally roll off,” Hannah instructed and had Beth do it. She was clearly uncomfortable with it but did it anyway. “Now she’s got this skirt on; just push it out of the way underneath her.” Beth timidly pushed it up, “You’re not going to break me,” I told her. “Sorry, I…” “Didn’t grow up thinking you would have to be a mother?” Hannah smirked. Beth shook her head, “No...” She looked almost a little upset, but she said, “Okay, I’m not going to break you, Sofia… Next is this onesie, I’m guessing?” After that, she gained confidence and made it to my diaper quickly. “Go ahead and get another diaper ready to put underneath her,” Lizi suggested. I turned red as I realized I had become the ultimate doll for all of the girls here. She exposed me with the pull of the two tapes on my diaper. “Wipe her really well front to back,” Hannah instructed. I was having difficulty keeping my composure as I had three friends and Hannah working together to change my wet diaper. “If it’s a dirty diaper, use the back of the diaper to wipe as much off her as you can,” she added. After a seemingly interminable amount of time, I was in a dry diaper, and the onesie had been snapped shut. “Why don’t we leave the skirt off, Sofia,” Hannah suggested. I just shrugged since Caireen hadn’t gotten around to attaching the skirt to the onesie. My friends had just seen me at my most vulnerable; what more embarrassment could come? Hannah grabbed my backpack and showed everyone where we would keep my diapers, wipes, bottles, pacifiers, and extra clothes. “It’s a good thing you can do magic,” Lizi noted, “I don’t know how you would have made it around without it.” “Simple, a diaper bag,” Camille said, shaking her head while smiling. “Most mothers don’t have magical babies, and they get along just fine.” Eventually, they left to do their homework, and Hannah closed the door to gain privacy. A nursing session was needed for her sake, and I finally logged onto the sweet computer I had on the desk. I discovered that unique games were only available to students here on a test basis and downloaded a couple. Before I could do more than make a character in one, Hannah said, “You want to call Jacob with me?” I shrugged but walked over to join her at her desk. She used her computer to go ahead and set up a video chat with him. “Hey, Jacob!” She said. “Hannah, Ni... Sofia!” He was somewhat excited. “Where are you two?” He started, “Your pictures were all over the news. They said you were wanted for a terrorist attack.” I sighed, “We’re at a special school for Mergents. We were attacked at the mall and defended ourselves.” “You’re okay then?” He asked. “Yes,” Hannah said, “Just in a bit of shell shock.” “Wait… Hannah, why are you there?” “My parents didn’t call you?” she asked, a little annoyed. “My parents grounded me from my phone. They may have called it? So I can’t get to my messages.” “What did you do?” I asked. “I might have decked a guy for making rude comments about you?” he answered sheepishly. Hannah shook her head, “Well, Jacob, I’m here because I emerged too.” “Wow!” Jacob said. I noticed him adjust something on his computer, and I was sure he was zooming in on Hannah. “You have the same eyes as Sofia now.” “Yes,” Hannah said simply. We spoke together for an hour before his mom banged on his door, and he said goodbye quickly in a panic. “Something tells me he wasn’t supposed to be on his computer,” I said. “Nope!” Hannah sighed, “He’s going to be in so much trouble,” she shook her head, “typical Jacob!” “Wow, it’s late, Sofia. We both have classes tomorrow.” I sighed, “Bath time?” She nodded. I followed her to the bathroom in just my onesie and drooping wet diaper. In the bathroom, I noticed that the other girls used two bathtubs, but the one I had used last night remained open. Hannah started a bubble bath for me with some of the soap mom had sent and plopped me inside the tub. While I played with the bubbles, she washed my body and hair. “Okay, Princess, we don’t need you wrinkling away!” She said as she picked me up and dried me with a towel. She wrapped me in it and carried me back to the room in her arms like an infant. The routine of diapering me, dressing me in a footed sleeper, and then nursing me to sleep while singing a lullaby was truly becoming… a routine. IT WAS ALSO becoming routine to wake up in Caireen’s castle. Like yesterday she wasn’t in the room as I woke up. I had some dolls in my crib, so I began playing like I had been with Lily. I had to have been playing for a while when I felt a quick cramp and found myself squatting. ‘I can cry and get her attention… Or just keep playing…?’ I told myself. Right then, though, I found myself squatting a second time and went the crying route. Caireen was in the room within a minute and picked me up, “Oh no, do we have a poopy diapee Princess?” She cooed at me, “Shhh… I’ll get you all cleaned up in a moment.” She laid me on the changing table and worked to clean my bottom off. Routine was the action at this point, and I only squirmed a little as she worked to get me into a new diaper. After a quick nursing session, burping, she said, “I have to get some things done in court today. I want you to come with me.” “Court?” I asked. “It’s one of the things you have to do as Queen, sweetie, you’ll see,” She assured me. One of the servants showed up at that time and bowed before saying, “All is ready for you, Your Majesty.” “Thank you,” she said. “We’ll be ready in a moment.” “Yes, Your Majesty,” he said and exited the room. “Let’s get you dressed properly!” Caireen said with a smile. She sat me on the ground, and I followed her to a wardrobe of fantastic dresses. One of them looked very much like the Sofia dress I had in the real world. She didn’t hesitate to pick that one and began dressing me in a petticoat and then the dress. My hair was piled onto my head quickly, and my tiara appeared in her hands. “Well, Princess Sofia, I believe you’re ready to see what being a Queen is like today.” I shrugged and said, “so, do they believe I’m your daughter in this kingdom?” She nodded, “You are my daughter and my chosen successor here.” “How can I…?” “Someday… not anytime soon. Relax!” She smiled at me. “Behave and watch today.” She picked me up and carried me down corridors and stairs until we came to a small receiving room with couches and a small fireplace. She sat me down and said, “You will wait here for a minute, and then my advisor Elizabeth will let you know when to enter.” I felt nervous as she went through a door and down a hallway that I supposed must lead to a throne room? The door in my room shut with an ominous thud, and I heard one do so further down the hall. I felt my diaper grow wet from my nerves. I paced a little bit and sillily practiced curtsying for no reason other than boredom. My dress was pretty, and I enjoyed twirling around in it for a moment too. I wondered how much longer it would be when I was surprised by a voice. “Princess Sofia,” a lady had snuck up on me and curtseyed, “Your Highness, your mother is ready for you in the throne room.” The lady was dressed in a simple but elegantly styled emerald green dress. “May I ask your name?” “I’m Rosemerta,” she said. Something inside me, for some reson, had an alarm bell ringing. I instantly wondered what had happened to Elizabeth. Caireen had very clearly said it would be Elizabeth coming for me. “What happened to Elizabeth?” “She’s waiting in the throne room.” “Mother told me Elizabeth was coming for me. Go get her and have her come.” I said. Something was not right here, and I began drawing in power to protect myself. Suddenly the lady before me scowled, “Come along, you sniveling little baby!” As she reached for me, I screamed and fired one of the energy blasts I had been taught to make at her. Rosemerta managed to jump away from most of the blast then, and only a bit of her arm was hit. “You little bitch!” She cursed and lunged at me again. I dodged her and attempted to kick her in the head with a flying kick. I missed and hit her chest instead. She cursed again, got a hand on my foot, and dangled me from the air. “Little girls do not attack their elders!” She screamed at me and smacked me hard on my face. I felt her try to rip my tiara from my head, but all it did was make it feel like she was ripping my hair off! I charged up another charge and managed to get her to drop me. Just as I rolled to a standing-up position Caireen and a dozen guards ran into the room. “Seize her!” Caireen commanded. Rosemerta cackled and said, “Oh no, I don’t think so!” Somehow, I watched as she shapeshifted into a bat, of all things, and then flew out the open door. Caireen missed her with a spell, and we watched her fly away into the distance. “Secure the castle!” She said to her guards, and two of them left to carry out her orders. The others took up places at the two doors inside and out. “Oh no, Sofia, are you okay?” Caireen asked me as she picked me up. I could feel my face was bruising, and my leg hurt from how she had suspended me in the air. “I hurt,” I answered simply before I began bawling. Caireen said, “I need a fresh diaper and a new dress for Princess Sofia.” One of the guards bowed and said, “Right away, Your Majesty.” I was still incoherently crying. I thought the castle would be safe from anything! “Who was that?” I managed to sob. Caireen shifted me in her lap to where I could see her face. Her own tear streaks and anger evident on her face. “One of many enemies I have…” she paused, “you remember my anger with the vampire comment you made?” I nodded and felt my eyes open wide, shaking my head, “You’re kidding?” She shook her head. “They’re not like your culture thinks of them. They don’t drink blood; they drink the manna within their victims for their own twisted magic.” “And they can turn into bats?” I asked, “That’s real?” “Some of them?” She shuddered in anger. A woman in a servant’s uniform walked in and then to the room carrying a change for me. Caireen laid me on the floor and quickly changed my soaked diaper and dress. “Are you thirsty, baby?” She asked me when she was done. I had mostly stopped sniffling by then and nodded. Then, without any sense of shame of the guards being present, she carried me to a chair and presented me with her breast. For once, I didn’t even feel embarrassed or need to resist; I just nursed for a long time until she burped me. While nursing, I could feel my manna refilling, and my face seemed to hurt less. She eventually stood up and said, “Court is canceled for today for security reasons, Princess, but I want to meet with my generals and you to come with me.” With that, she carried me down the hallway she had disappeared to earlier. I nervously sucked on my thumb as another door to the throne room was opened by a guard and my mouth opened in shock. The room was gilded in gold accents with a patterned wooden floor that was extravagant enough on its own. The room was decorated with paintings like European castles often were. Still, this room somehow made the most luxurious castle I’d seen pictures of look like my parents’ house. On one end opposite us stood a set of doors fifteen feet in height and massive. I guessed that is the end visitors came through. To my left, I saw a raised platform with six stairs leading to the top. There sat a large and a much smaller throne next to it. Both thrones were covered in green fabric and gilded legs and frames. I could see emeralds inlaid to the edges, and I couldn’t help but think, ‘mine?’ Caireen walked to the top of the dais and sat down with me in her lap. “Your Majesty, Your Highness, General Reginald is here with his staff,” a herald stated. “Send them in!” I watched as a giant of a man walked in with five other men behind him. They bowed before us and said, “Your Majesty, Your Highness, a million apologies for my failure to protect Princess Sofia. I will be stepping down...” “No, you won’t,” I found myself saying. Yet, somehow, I knew this was a good guy, and it wouldn’t have mattered who it was; the vampire lady would have made it in any way. “Your Highness, I failed you and the Queen. There is no other option.” “My daughter is right, General Slane, even if a little out of turn here,” I blushed at her light rebuke. “I do not believe this attack could have been prevented. This creature managed to get through my wards, something I did not believe was possible. I’m at least as much at fault as you are.” I felt the sadness in her words. “But…” “Your oath was until death, or I release you from your service, correct?” I felt Caireen squeeze me slightly in a hug. “My daughter does not wish for you to be released, and neither do I. All I want is to find out who put this creature up to this and make them pay.” “We think we know that,” he said and motioned an advisor forward. “Your Majesty, we believe King Camulus and Queen Damara met with this Rosemerta this week.” “How dare they!?!” Caireen snarled. “Fine, if they want to play this way. Do you know of any other movements by them yet?” “No, but I would recommend...” After several hours of discussions of plans, we left the throne room to return to my nursery. Everyone was under the impression that they would force us into the marriage since Caireen turned down the marriage offer. If they could seize our kingdom, they would be a force to be reckoned with… and not a good one either! “I was scared,” I told her as she changed my diaper. “I can imagine. How did you know that lady was a fake anyway?” “Well, I had an instinct that something wasn’t right… she didn’t come from your throne room hallway for one… and you told me your advisor’s name was Elizabeth,” I reminded her. She nodded, “Simple, but you were able to figure out the deception. Luckily for us, they didn’t take that part further.” “Am I safe now?” I asked. She kissed my still, slightly sore cheek, “as safe as I can make you. But, truthfully, Sofia, I think this will mean war. I will make them pay as soon as I confirm they were behind all of this.” I nodded but didn’t say anything more. Caireen nursed me to sleep, and I wondered which could possibly worry me more, a war with what amounts to gods and goddesses in my dreams or going to high school as a baby... ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thank you for reading! Please press the ‘Like’ Button if you’ve enjoyed it! Comments are always super appreciated as well! If you're someone who must finish a good story 'now,' consider purchasing the full book on Amazon Kindle! https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BTBTTGX1 I will be posting a chapter about every other day until the complete 62 Chapters and the Epilogue are reposted.

This. so. much. When I go to the office (which fortunately is not so often now) the fact that I am sat down reduces the capacity of even the most voluminous nappy massively. At home I can move around a lot more, it just looks very odd having teams meetings in the office gradually sliding to a horizontal position in your chair to facilitate wicking.....

I'm secretly (well not anymore) envious of the tolerance you seem to bask in although I've always remained curious about what she imagines your motivations in this venture to be. Unfortunately, having scorched the earth with truth, my own beloved remains grimly silent at best and constructs evermore elaborate internal defences and firewalls to deny the awful reality before her.

This week I wet my pants in the name of hydration and followed that by wetting my pyjamas in the name of science. The pants-wetting thing wasn’t that major and entirely related to over-hydration. Summer refuses to fade here in QLD with a low intensity heat-wave accompanied by impressively high dewpoints. I’d drunk like a fish (water mainly) across the day and furthermore spent most of it sitting on my arse driving. Nappies don’t really like being used wholly seated. The padding under your bum gets compressed, wicking doesn’t work as well as it should and eventually, pee splashes back up the front crotch and escapes into your plastic pants, eventually to work its way out. I’ve often found that peeing my pants all day without standing up much is a ticket to leakage. The warning signs were a slight evaporative-cool effect at the leggings of my shorts as they were being blasted by the company vehicle AC. Although I’m the main driver of this vehicle, I’d no interest in leaving pee on the seats and simply grabbed an incontinence chair liner from the open bag in the back (these kind of things are almost always floating around in my industry and get misused for a multitude of things including keeping some laying around the workshop and equipment vehicles). Ironically I’d stopped by my nappy-dealer during the day (because my route took me so close to him and I wasn’t leaking then) in an attempt to procure more stock of my daily Rearz Hybrid Incontrol Elite+ (aka Barry) only to find he was out of stock. Nil desperandum. I had enough to last until he expected his next container to be delivered. Not wanting to leave empty-handed though, I bought a pack of Rearz Inspire+ (on a flawed assumption that these were Rearz “night briefs” and also a pack of Rearz “Critter Caboose” (because I thought nothing could contribute to my debonair man-about-town suave fashion credibility more than wearing a giant nappy with a cartoon elephant on its bum.) By the time I made it back to the office, I realised my bum by then had a reasonable damp patch but my day was done. I got to my own car, laid down a terry baby nappy that I keep in the door bin for just such a scenario (that and wiping down the windscreen) and made my way home without incident. I had to change early. Despite it being only 5pm, my Barry was done. Tapes undone it fled my nether regions ground-wards like a piano pushed off a balcony. I had to know. The coast being clear, I ventured downstairs to yet again misuse the kitchen scales. At 2260g, this Barry had let go with a smidge over 2 litres of pee which isn’t surprising. After a quick shower, I contemplated the “Premium Nights Briefs” I’d NOT bought and then the Inspire+ I’d accidentally bought instead. They weren’t even a little bit dark purple. Regardless of this design omission, I decided to give the Inspire+ a crack at the night shift anyway and so taped one on. It’s an experiment and that’s science in my book… Despite me fitting comfortably enough into Rearz’s new definition of “large”, I fancied that the Inspire+ was a little tighter than the Barrys. Perhaps it was their extra stuffing. They certainly were bulkier though. I’d call them “pleasingly puffy”. They were comfortable too. It was like wearing a pillow. It got better later. This is THE most comfortable wet nappy I’ve yet to wear. As the evening wore on, it just got warmer, thicker, squishier and somehow softer. Although a disposable, I felt “wet” in an almost cloth-nappy-like manner. There was no haptic ambiguity, none of that moisture-barrier-induced “am I or aren’t I?” thing. I was obviously wet but it the same time, the nappy felt very, very, well almost voluptuous. It was just a shame about the leak. Wine and beer flowed (mid-week alcohol night) and I waddled off to bed whereupon I swiftly fell asleep whilst pee continued to flow it seems. When morning rolled around, the clock radio told me about all the terrible things that had happened in the world whilst I was snoring and peeing myself whilst my heavy, warm Inspire+ gave my midriff a warm, wet “good morning” hug. Then I realised that on the OTHER side of my terry-lined plastic pants, my pyjamas were wet and a bit cold to the touch. Fortunately, the bed had remained dry and fending off my beloved’s attempt to hug me good morning (in case she noticed), I fled to the ensuite for my morning change. Forensic examination showed it had leaked in a most unusual way: out the TOP of the nappy at the front. There’d been a small auxiliary leak somewhere towards the usual location down at my crotch but this was small beer to what had happened up at my waist elastic. Leaking in this location meant that pee was perilously close to the lycra band of my terry-lined plastic pants, all but bypassing their protection and wicking straight out to my pyjamas: a salutary reminder of a comment made to me by @jonbearab that my gilt-edged disposable sleep nappy insurance policy was somewhat less-than-gilt-edged for stomach sleepers who would, upon reflection, likely leak in the same spot. This is a shame. I’m not entirely sure what to do with these nappies now. I might give them another chance (there are 11 more chances left in the bag) because weighing the dead soldier did reveal another 2 litres of wee had visited it in the 13 hours or so I spent in it. That’s a lot I guess and those who play in nappies must expect to get wet.

Woo! Happy New Years Em and Sam! I'm sure their next meeting will go better. Thank you for giving us more!

Nope. Its handy to store diapers in the open in the living room. But, whenever I get around to cleaning the bedroom, I'll return to storing them openly there. I don't heat my bedroom in the winter, so it gets below freezing, so I don't use it. (I sleep in living room..)

Yes, for me too. There's something that feels very naughty about having done a big poo in my pants instead of in the potty like I know I'm supposed to.

My favorite thing is to mess my underwear while I'm shaving.

This is interesting. Your childhood was obviously quite different from mine, in time and culture. I'm writing this loosely based on my own inner feelings, thoughts and emotions from a time when I had a very tumultuous relationship with wearing diapers - I sometimes enjoyed it, but sometimes hated it, and I had a lot of social anxiety about wearing them, plus I was trying to grow up and push back against my parents, as all kids do, while at the same time... I secretly yearned to wear baby pants. I've tried to transpose that emotional landscape and inner monologue onto situations I was mostly never in, at an age that I experienced as a nascent DL, but one at which I wasn't actually "legitimately" wearing diapers anymore - Zack's story kind of picks up where mine ended. Although as an aside, I did go to school in my homemade cloth diapers a couple of times in middle school, and, I used to sneak over to a park across the street late at night in just a diaper and a t-shirt as a kid, which I now realize was very risky behaviour, but kids aren't known for their good decisions. However, I "kind of" know what it feels like to be at great risk of exposure, and, what it feels like to actually be exposed, although that happened to me at younger ages than Zack - situations like my diaper being seen above my pants in a playground, or once, not realizing that a cousin of mine had arrive at my house after I went to bed, I went downstairs in the morning in a diaper to watch TV, and then she materialized out of the ether, seemingly, and I ran and locked myself in a bathroom. But as a kid, in my inner and my geographic and cultural worlds, which for me was mostly the 1980's in a fairly safe city in Canada, I didn't win many arguments with my parents or their adult supporting cast. While I have relatively little experience with "abuse", I did have an alcoholic stepfather later in my childhood who was definitely emotionally abusive and occasionally physically abusive, and at that time, I felt that I had very little recourse - the teachers and the doctors and the cops were all firmly on team "parent". My doctor knew that I wore diapers to bed and, being himself a product of the 1950's, that made sense to him. I did eventually push back against my stepfather, once chasing him out of the house after he punched me in the face, but I was 16 when that happened - at fictional Zack's age, I wouldn't have thought of it in my wildest imaginings. And, I never thought to tell a teacher or involve the police. I was a pretty meek kid, unlike you or your cohort, until my stepfather hardened me a bit, in my early teens. In Zack's case, there is also the question of whether or not he's being "abused"... that term is viewed in the eye of the beholder, to a certain extent. And what the hell is up with Kelly, anyway? What in her past is compelling her to take this approach with Zack? Regarding the legitimacy of his psychologist's approach, today, there are lots of fringe and non-mainstream health practices and lots of practitioners out there, traditional medicine, all sorts of strict diet regimens, religious restrictions to treatments, non-traditional "cures"... lots of kids grow up subjected to unconventional approaches to education, religion, food, psychology and health, and the courts have tended to say that parents have a fair bit of latitude, until you get into situations where, say, a child is possibly going to die if they don't get a blood transfusion, things like that. But if you want to craft your own orthotic footwear for your kids, or make them drink kale smoothies when they get colds, instead of cough syrup, or ban them from listening to music, or send them to "rehab" for smoking pot or boot camps because of their behaviour, you largely have the right to - the heavy hand of the state tends to come into play only in the most extreme circumstances. I think it's possible that a doctor, naturopath, or therapist could prescribe some fairly unconventional methodologies, and stay off the regulatory radar, particularly if most of their clients are happy. I don't think that plot device requires an excess of suspension of disbelief. In the grand scheme of things, diapers are a relatively harmless, non-invasive, and side-effect free treatment approach. At least physically speaking. In any case, you did a good job of articulating some of the issues writers wrestle with, line by line! That's why this is taking me so long to write. And thank you, and everyone, for your kind words.

I love it. I had a diaper diarrhea weekend which lessened in volume by the afternoon. On Monday morning when I felt the urge to go, I thought there couldn't be that much and just let it go. Nope! It was a large load of diarrhea that my panties didn't hold at all and ran down the leg of my sweatpants. It was awesome though I had to be careful walking to the bathroom.

Hello again DD! it's that time again, being lets see now.. 18 months, 5 days or just over 1 year 6 months having gone back to diapers and never looking back. In the last 30 days I've had two new experiences that I want to talk about, both related to the messier side of things so fair warning to anyone not wanting that sort of info. ? Having gone to bed rather late & forgetting to set my alarm for work the next morning :c I woke up late and a bit anxious to rush to turn on my laptop for another day of work. I woke up to sunlight hitting my head and a panic realizing I overslept & quickly got out of bed to grab my laptop & power it on. It was then that I realized my normal soaked dip felt different then I normally wake up to. I felt like I had a something back there.. But I had just woken up, surely not I thought to myself, cause I definitely don't remember needing to poop, and I just got out of bed. As I was signing into my laptop & investigating my diaper I found myself in a clearly dirty diaper. I messed in my sleep... Had to clean up, make some coffee and got ready for the morning before my first meetings. Kinda sat there is disbelief for a while realizing what had happened, that I actually had a sleep messing.. Was it because I overslept and normally wake up early? Was it because I went to bed rather late? I have no idea. On the weekend, we had an early birthday celebration for my Mum with friends & family friends over to celebrate & enjoy good company. Standing there with a plate of chips & dip & chatting, I had a sudden messing albeit small, I felt myself push into my diaper before I could finish my chip. Embarrassed feelings & sorta shocked face aside I came up with a lame excuse that I forgot something and rushed off to quickly go check that it wasn't my imagination. Queue a change later & back to the party, thankfully I didn't overreact and nobody seemed to care. As for the rest of the messy stuff, it's been pretty normal. I still have a very small warning window and It's a habit at this point that I don't really put effort on doing much but letting go. As for how much control I'm a little timid to rate now. These were the bigger experiences this month and the first time I've ever had a sleep messing episode. Will there be repeats in the future? I dunno, but It definitely is new. Those are the two new blips in my month, hope everyone is doing well and that your week ahead is a wonderful one! Daylight savings stinks

Part Seven Unfortunately, I wasn’t quick enough. Step by step, Kate walked me all the way back to the car. The soaked underwear didn’t help my mental state, I was constantly distracted by the way the snug pull-ups somehow managed to both cling to me and slightly sag all at the same time. Each step made me cringe in awkwardness, and made it that much more difficult to find the words to change Kate’s mind about this excessive prank. Rather than thinking of anything to say, however, the only resistance I could muster was yanking my hand out of hers as we approached the car. But it was too late. “We’re ready!” Kate exclaimed as she pulled open the car door. “Sorry that took so long. Annie had a little accident that held us up.” I could immediately feel the heat rushing to my face at her offhand comment. Like usual, she was blaming me. The ‘innocent younger sister’ act worked all the time, but this was different. There was an embarrassing double meaning in her words. Our parents would obviously hear it as something else, but Kate and I knew exactly what she really meant. “It’s fine,” our mother said, “Just get in. We’re behind schedule.” With those words, my fate was sealed. Amidst her haste to get back on the road, our mother didn’t seem too concerned with whatever ‘accident’ Kate was talking about. Aside from my little blush, I probably looked normal. That was the point about this little dare, as no one was supposed to know what I changed into underneath. But it also didn’t offer me many options for delaying our departure from the rest stop. Not only would cleaning sticky Gatorade off my private areas take forever, but now Kate had the option to follow through on her threat and rat me out if I tried anything. Knowing Kate, she could probably make them believe her. Not only was she a clever little actress, but wearing soaked pull-ups would easily confirm her story. “Go on, Annie,” Kate said. She gave me a serious look while gesturing to the open car door. Annie. As if my current underwear situation wasn’t bad enough, I’d have to suffer through that nickname until I could steal away to a bathroom at our cousins’ house and change back to my regular underwear. Without a word, I shot her a glare and got into the car. Thankfully, my skirt was long enough that I wasn’t nervous about my movements giving away what I was already sacrificing so much to keep secret. However, the faint crinkling and personal knowledge of what I was wearing was still enough to keep me on edge as I climbed into the back seat of the minivan. It was my preferred spot for road trips, as I usually got some solitude thanks to the distance. I don’t mind socializing with my family, but road trips admittedly make me impatient and a little moody. I’d rather kill time with my phone. I definitely wasn’t ready for what it was going to be like to sit in the double pull-ups. It was like landing on a cold sponge; all the drink that had sagged down during my walk earlier had slowly soaked into the thick padding. I sharply inhaled from the feeling, trying my best to settle on the wet pillow that was now my underwear. My thighs still couldn’t close completely thanks to the bulk between my legs, so I made sure to adjust my skirt to avoid even the slightest risk of one of our parents looking back and glimpsing the girly pull-ups. Surprise, surprise, Kate had more in store for me. Rather than sitting in one of the more spacious middle seats like she did for the first leg of the trip, she climbed into the back with me. “I thought you might want some company,” she said. Her words were for our parents, but her little smirk was just for me. “Thanks,” I muttered. I immediately glanced away to avoid staring right at her cleavage as she kept her body slightly bent as she made her way between the middle seats. It really wasn’t fair. Same red hair, same skin tone, but literally all the height and curves in the family. “By the way, you look so cute today!” Before finding her seat, Kate reached out and pinched one of my cheeks. Lowering her voice so our parents couldn’t hear, she added, “Your blush matches your pull-ups.” The last word was extra hushed. At least she was following through on her end of the deal. Still, I couldn’t help but worry about the chance of her being overheard. “Kate, sit down.” I quickly swatted her hand off my face, still averting my gaze as much as possible while her boobs were more or less right in my face. It was less about jealousy, and way more about the fact that she was my sister. The last thing I wanted to see up close was her cleavage in a tight tank top. Just to hurry her up, I echoed what our mother said, loudly enough for the parents to hear. “We’re behind schedule.” Kate just rolled her eyes. “So serious, little sis. You really need to loosen up.” Pinching down a little harder on my cheek, she finally let go and plopped down across from me in the back. “We’re ready!” she said. I avoided the temptation to rub my cheek, not wanting to give her the satisfaction. Just like that, we were pulling out of the rest stop and back onto the highway. The blue-roofed building left my view in a matter of seconds, as did any possible chance of calling this whole thing off. I was going to be stuck in wet pull-ups for hours. Turning to me with her lips pursed in a triumphant smile, no doubt thinking the same thing, Kate got right to business. She wouldn’t have joined me in the back for no reason, after all. “Hey, Annie,” she said, “Can I give you a make-over?” ------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=73056590

XIX The drive to the mall was uneventful. I had a carseat now, albeit a little bigger than your typical toddler one, but it allowed me to be “buckled in” and “be safe” on the roads, because you can never be too sure when an accident might happen; just as the diaper protected from my body’s accidents, I guess so to the car seat protected in case of a car accident. Not that I minded it; it felt like I was riding in a chauffeured bean bag. Things had changed a bit, of course, especially for these sorts of outings. Whereas before I simply walked with Mommy, held hands, or just apart, back before my baby days, these days I had a stroller that I’d ride in, meant for big babies such as me who had a hard time walking on a long day across a giant stretch of area such as the Northgate Mall. As imposing as it was for many to walk, it was doubly imposing for a baby girl such as myself, at least according to Mommy, and she didn’t want to carry me that entire time, so the stroller had become a complete necessity. The effort that went into packing Mommy’s car resembled the D-Day planning it seemed like; Mommy had to get food ready, the diaper bag, and everything else. I was just content to sit in my car seat as she did so; most of the baby gear such as the stroller were already in the garage, ready to go on these things. To be honest, today was a bit nervousing, because though Mommy had taken me out to the park and the playground by our house, this resembled a bit of a departure. I had gone with Mommy to Northgate once before, but today was different since it seemed like it would be a “shop ‘til you drop” day for everyone involved; I was merely along for the ride. I wasn’t too upset though; I’d get to see Natalie and Amelia, and Auntie Dana too, and they had become three of my favorite people through my various babysitting voyages while Mommy had been at work. They were as much family as Mommy (and now Samantha) it seemed like, at least to me, and so at least I’d be in the presence of familiarity. The drive over was fairly benign. I stared out the window, looking at a situation that I really didn’t get to experience anymore. Freeway driving was always one of my favorite things to do, and now I was merely but an observer. Given my silence and apparent awe-inspired gaze out the window, Mommy and Samantha simply made small-talk the entire time when we drove. I think there was stuff about school, maybe extracurriculars, or other stuff, but at this point in my life, I was headed steadily downhill on the maturity scale, and really, I guess I just didn’t care. There were other, more important things, like watching “Kim Possible” and possibly fingerpainting. Adult stuff? Big kid stuff? I was on the route of non-chalance at this point, and heading towards that caring cliff relatively fast. Maybe I should have cared, I don’t know, but this was my life now for better or worse. My entire life was basically represented by the one line that I even took notice of. “…and maybe we can take Jac-y there too, she might be due to get her ears pierced and wear some pretty princess earrings?” “Hmm, I don’t know, she’s still just a baby” “But Mom, it’s really a rite of passage! If Amelia is getting hers done, maybe we should have Jac-y then too?” “I mean, I guess you weren’t much older than she was when your dad and I took you to have yours done. I’m sure there’ll be some tears, but they should subside, and she’s got her binky if it gets too overwhelming. Maybe?” “Mom, I think it’ll be ok, I mean, if I’m going to have a baby sister, what better way for bonding than to have her get some pretty earrings and shopping advice from a big sister?” “It’s a good point, I guess, but are you really going to help her? You haven’t seemed to be the happiest camper since you’ve been back.” “Well, I mean, yeah, I can.” “Oh, alright then. I don’t mind doing it, she’s going to have it done eventually, and it’d be good for her to be with her friend doing it, and she’ll have all of us too, I think that’s fine.” “BUT…Samantha Lynn, you need to make an effort, and you need to be there to support her, and not anything else.” Pain? Tears? Rites of what? What on earth were Mommy and Samantha talking about? Again, I probably should have cared, but with everything these days being decided for me without any input, I figured I’d see when I got there; objecting to anything would seemingly get me in more trouble than if I actually just…did it. After all, Mommy had my best interests in mind at all times, and she knew what was best, I was just there to follow her lead, and really, the lead of any adult that happened to be watching over me at whatever period of time. Further adding to all of this was the ongoing activity taking place in my bowels. Between the mix of Aunt Becky’s food last night, Mommy’s breastmilk this morning, and the ongoing anxieties of whether or not I had a workable relationship with Samantha, and really, whether or not it was even salvageable, it created a pressure on my bowels. Like I’ve mentioned before, this was something I had a limited control over, and even then, it seemed to be fading in two competing directions: my “poopies” (as Mommy referred to them as) were happening more and more and becoming less and less solid, which I assume was due to the diet I had become more and more accustomed to. It seemed like the less solids I ate, the more liquid my poopies became, and as a result, they were happening with a relative frequency of at least once or twice a day. Today though? It felt like it might be an all-day affair, and with this trip to the mall, I’m sure it wasn’t going to be pleasant to whomever had the lovely task of changing them. I really wanted to hold it in, I didn’t want a really dirty diaper at the mall, but as with most things these days, it was something I was about resigning myself to. After what seemed like forever in the confines of my own head, and looking at the ongoing scatterplot of civilization around the area in which I now called home, Mommy’s SUV finally made its way into the parking lot, and soon, Mommy’s window went down, and she took something that went on her dashboard for the time being. She went and parked, and got out, opening up the back to grab what I assumed was my stroller. Samantha turned around and looked at me from the front seat, cracking what I guess was a smile. “Little sister, I hope you enjoy my surprise today,” she said happily, “all little girls get it, and I’ll be right there holding your little hand.” As I’ve said before, I was still nervous around my big sister, so I didn’t know whether or not this was something out of sarcasm, or if it was really true. I had a pacifier in, so I could assuage some of my nervousness with that, but still, I just didn’t know. “Otay” was about all I could say. I guess I peed a little too, but what else was new? Soon the door opened, and Mommy took me out of my car seat; I saw my stroller set up next to her. “Okay Princess, in the stroller for Mommy,” she told me, helping me down from the car and into the stroller. I had to admit, it felt pretty nice. At least I didn’t have to walk, right? Being pushed around the mall at this vantage point was one of a differing sort that I’d never experienced, at least in terms of my awareness of it. The stroller had a shade on top of it, which was drawn at this point; my diaper bag was held in a compartment underneath where I was sitting. I just kind of sat there, taking everything in. My diaper was covered by the spandex shorts I was wearing, but it was pretty obvious what was underneath the fabric to any onlooker that had spent time around any babies before. We got close to the door and soon we were through the entrance, where Dana, Amelia, and Natalie were waiting for us. Auntie Dana waved, and Mommy pushed the stroller closer to where everyone was at, parking me right by Auntie Dana. “Hi Princess,” Auntie Dana gave me a smile, “I’m so glad you got to come out for this girls day of shopping, Natalie and Amelia haven’t been able to be quiet about it, they’ve been so excited!” I blushed. Being called “princess” was something I was still taking some getting used to, and being part of a “girls trip”, well, that was I guess, a dream come true. Immediately upon seeing us, the two girls “eek’d” in glee, running over not to me, but to Samantha, whom they hadn’t seen all summer. “SAMANTHA!!!” they screamed in unison, running up and glomming all on to her. “We missed you soooo much, but we do like your new sister,” Natalie told her, really matter of factly. “She’s…nice, right?” Samantha said, rather incredulously. “She’s my best fwend!” Amelia added to the conversation, prompting a laugh from everyone, before coming over to me. “Hiiii Jacwyn, did your Mommy make your haiwr pwetty today? I weally wyke it,” she told me. I nodded. “Guess what too Jacwyn? I’m in pull-ups now, and I’m potty twaining! I’m a biggeh giwl than you!” The adults laughed again. I think it was meant to be friendly, but it came across as kind of condescending. She was right though, diapered in a stroller dribbling pee into my diapers seemed to be my fate for the foreseeable future. “Wuv you Amewia” I spoke to her in baby talk. “I wuf you too Jacwyn,” she told me sweetly, giving me a hug, this time prompting a chorus of “awws” from the adults. Breaking up this monotony of baby babblings, Auntie Dana spoke up, “well girls, we need to go school shopping, so why don’t we get started?” “That sounds great,” Mommy told her. I soon felt myself being pushed. I supposed I could have fallen asleep, as these sorts of things always made me tired, but I was worried that I might miss out on something, and there apparently was some surprise coming, so I figured it was in my best interest to stay awake. Besides, I had something to drink, too. Mommy apparently didn’t feel it wise to breast feed here, so she had pumped her milk into bottles, which I sucked on happily and hungrily as we moved through the mall. In what seemed like one arduous quest across the mall floor, we went from store to store. I, of course, wasn’t going to school, and Mommy ordered all of my clothes specially, anyway. I was just here to watch, hang out, be cute, or whatever was needed. What was needed at this point, though, was a diaper change, something that became announced when it was time to break for lunch. It was your typical food court, something I’d have been interested in a different phase of my life, but that I wasn’t really now. It smelled good, but lucky me, I was getting pureed “natural” foods, rather than anything from the fast food, though, if judging from my tummy’s reaction to Aunt Becky’s food last night was any indicator, maybe I was better off eating what Mommy had now decided was appropriate for my infantile tastes. Mommy parked my stroller at a table where the six of us (well, 5 with me in my stroller) could comfortably sit at, before sitting next to me. “Let’s check that diaper sweetie, we’ve been running around all day, and I’m sure that diaper is pretty used,” she told me in a comforting voice. I felt her finger coming up through my shorts and into the diaper, confirming what she had been assuming, I suppose. “Yeah baby girl, you’re all wet, we’re going to need to get you a change before I get you lunch.” She grabbed a diaper and wipes out, putting them on my lap. “Dana, can you just grab me a salad? I need to change Jaclyn’s diaper real quick, and I don’t want to let this little wet diaper hold us up, we’ve still got a lot to do.” “Oh of course, no problem, I know how it is with little girls and diaper changes, always the most opportune times right?” Auntie Dana told Mommy somewhat jokingly. “You know it,” Mommy laughed, “c’mon Princess, let’s go get you changed,” she told me sweetly, pushing my stroller towards the restroom in the mall. I was pretty oblivious to the fact that there were a lot of stares coming in my direction, but I didn’t really care because I had a paci in, and I knew Mommy would handle anything that might come my way. To be honest, I just wanted to be in a dry diaper, as fleeting of a feeling as that might have been these days, there still was something enjoyable about going from wet to dry, and Mommy made it happen. There was no family restroom here, but I needed my diaper changed, and we couldn’t go back to the car, so, “Looks like a good spot right here,” Mommy interrupted my thoughts as she parked my stroller in front of a counter that looked like it was specifically set up for a diaper changing endeavor by whatever Mommy needed to use it. This one just happened to be mine, and well, my diaper. “Let’s get up here little girl,” Mommy told me, unbuckling my stroller, and helping me climb my poofy bottom onto the counter. It was grooved as to fit any baby, and due to its length, a part of me wondered if I was the only big baby having her diaper changed on the structure. I’ll spare you the details of this diaper change, it was your typical wet diaper change, only I found myself laying and staring at the ceiling of a mall bathroom while Mommy went through the motions. Really, it was only notable for what happened afterwards. As I lay there staring into space while being cleaned, Mommy making babytalk to me while she cleaned my bottom, a comment sliced through my subconsciousness, bringing me right back to reality. “OH MY GOD!” I’d heard that voice before. But not in a long time. I looked around. That person, she looked so familiar, was it…. …Alanna?

Chapter 91: Blind It’s weird how your senses deceive you, or more accurately how your brain filters out sensory input given enough time. I’m no biologist, but I suspect it’s a survival thing balancing itself with a psychological health thing. New and uncommon sounds can be scary because they represent a potential danger. Bad smells and tastes warn of poison or disease. Extreme or foreign temperatures might be a warning from without or within. Flashes of movement in your peripheral vision warn you of upcoming dangers like predators, runaway cars, or Amazons whipping out pacifiers. Normal things, get tuned out, however. Over time your brain stops actively registering chirping birds, and you don’t notice the hum of electricity in the lights, the fan, or the heater until the power goes out. The pizza delivery guy doesn’t smell the overpowering odor of pepperoni in his car after a long night. You don’t appreciate good food as much as you avoid spoiled food and people who live in a swamp barely notice the heat and humidity most days. My old morning routine of grabbing a breakfast shake and scootering over to work was all one big blur most days provided nobody ran a red light. Notice however, that I’m talking about ‘normal’ and not ‘good’ or ‘safe’. Ground up canned meat isn’t half as good as a fresh steak, but stick to it long enough and your tongue acclimates. Somebody with a limp or a trick knee stops noticing the regular ache or the awkward gait. You see the dangling electric wire just above the shower and learn to ignore it because you can’t fix it. Unobservant cat owners never notice what’s wrong with the litter box until the eleventh hour. Your brain registers the dip in quality, but it eventually accepts and filters out the data as ‘normal’ and thus stops actively alerting you to it at every opportunity. Your mind is like “Well…it’s not good…but it’s not an immediate threat and can’t be fixed so… good enough,” and it starts to filter these things out as much as possible. The battle has been lost, time to focus on things that can still be won. That’s why after enough time, I stopped noticing the crinkle whenever I or another babied Little moved. The feeling of a wet diaper stopped being uncomfortable up until I was on the verge of leaking. The smell of stale urine was almost automatically filtered out of my nose, and unless someone went particularly heavy on the baby powder or took a particularly rank dump in their pants it could be easy enough to miss or at least second guess what you were sniffing. I stopped noticing the waddle and toddle that we all tended to move with. Full time crawlers like Amy and Chaz still registered as different but not dangerous, so their movement ended up being disregarded. Unconsciously, I had gone from looking away from a fellow Little’s diapers, to hyper fixating on them, to barely noticing them. There was a time when alarm bells would go off on my brain whenever I’d see someone my size padded up. I’d instantly notice the bulk between their legs, or the bits peeking out above waistbands, below skirts, or out from under onesies and my brain would scream at me, “No! Not me! Never me!” Later followed by “No! Not them, too!” There came a point where my brain had decided that certain battles regarding clothing and aesthetics were well lost and that I needed to move on in order to function. I could neither rest nor escape nor rebel if I was constantly focusing on things that were well out of my control, and that included mine and others’ clothing. Even that final threshold of my padding on full display had eventually become less bothersome. I had become numb to so many things that had just become ‘normal’, even if they weren’t ‘good’, so I got to a point where my Monkeez or Koddles or Hippobottomuses or whatever could be seen from space and I wouldn’t blush about it. After enough time, emotionally, a new embarrassing outfit was no more exciting or remarkable than someone getting a bad haircut. If being desensitized was Beouf’s idea of me ‘accepting’ my reduced status, then she was absolutely correct; damn her. The weather started turning against her, however. A chill was in the air the morning after my run in with Ambrose; meaning Janet finally felt she had to dress me in something that more completely covered my legs. The weather around Oakshire being what it was, would be back up to scolding by lunch. However, in the early pre-dawn hours, it would have been a faux parenting faux pas to parade me out in the bus loop in anything more revealing than shorts and knee high socks. I ended up getting better than that. As soon as I’d rubbed the sleep out of my eyes while up on the changing table, Janet set me on my feet wearing nothing but the new diaper she’d just put me in. A quick trip to the closet and she was kneeling in front of me with piles of denim and cotton folded in her arms. “It’s picture retake day,” she told me. “If I give you something nice to wear, do you promise not to mess it up on purpose?” I felt my face heat up. No such quarter should have been given or asked for. Be it real or imagined, I should have been ready to dash even the faintest hint of hope that I’d detected in Janet’s voice right onto the rocks. I held my tongue, however. Overplaying my hand had caused my close call on Tuesday. I could not afford another like it so soon. More to the point, no one had told me the exact date of picture retakes and I’d forgotten to plan anything. Yesterday had been terrible and my close call with Ambrose still burned and sizzled between my ears. The idea that I might have been exposed on the floor in front of my students made the few remaining hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up on end. The idea that a handful of my kids were eagerly watching and ready to stare, point, and laugh at me as ‘the baby’ made those hairs prick up like tiny porcupine quills. With nothing, not even grim pleasure to gain, I nodded my consent and stayed put as she pulled the green polo tee over my head and guided my arms through the sleeves. The head hole was particularly big with extra buttons in front to make up for the relative dearth of elastic in the collar. Any aesthetic of propriety or maturity was quickly overshadowed by the overalls she had me step into. Real adults didn’t have frogs stitched into the bib or the cuffs turned up. “Remember,” Janet warned. “If this gets messed up there’s always the sailor top and hat. No shorts” I remained standing while she slipped socks onto my feet that matched the polo in color and light up sneakers that decidedly didn’t. Looking down so I could keep my balance I felt a queer kind of happiness. It wasn’t quite the inverse of the terrible buzzing feeling I regularly felt on playgrounds or in the fancy store where Jessica had bought these clothes, but its frequency was on a much more positive different wavelength than I was used to feeling. A hot cheese burger is a steak compared to room temperature cat food. A three-year-old’s wardrobe feels infinitely more sophisticated when compared to an eighteen month old’s. This was the first time since my life fell apart that I had any article of clothing come down past my knees. Not only that, but these particular overalls didn’t have any snaps along the inseam. It wasn’t much of one, but it was still a step up. Minus the pacifier clip that was added on last, this looked just below what my students’ might wear (though I’d never recommend their parents put them in something as difficult to remove and refasten while potty training) An idea immediately started brewing in my head. Janet reached down and took my hand. “Come on,” she coaxed. “School time.” She turned out the light to the nursery and together we walked through the mostly dark house, with minute flashes of blue pulsing after every step I took. We stopped in the kitchen and I looked at the clocks on the stove and microwave. We weren’t leaving nearly early enough for another intervention. I squinted when Janet opened the refrigerator and grabbed an Amazon sized breakfast shake. The refrigerator bulb was a lighthouse beacon by comparison. “Can I have one?” I asked. There was no particular reason. No malice or plan beyond curiosity and simple nostalgia. Franz Toast sticks and dry cereal were more filling and tasted better, but I just had a craving. Maybe it was the new clothes. “No,” Janet said, not unkindly. “You get breakfast at school, remember?” I passed on the opportunity to turn this into an argument. It wasn’t worth it. The fridge door was shut and I remembered there was a carton of goat’s milk. “Can I have some milk instead?” Janet eyed me wearily and let go of my hand. The fact that I was asking for the milk made her instantly suspicious. “Why?” “Just thirsty,” I half told the truth. The devious thought of tanking up on liquids had sparked up inside me. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was a fun and nasty impulse and the relatively tame nature of it made escalation or retaliation less likely. After yesterday’s debacle, I just wanted a good bit of malicious compliance; just enough to let my captors know the fight hadn’t quite gone out of me. Janet gripped the handle. “Hmmm….” She sounded more hesitant than when I’d floated the idea of the breakfast shake. Not that I blamed her, rationally speaking. It took more milk to make a body puke than cinnamon, but it could be done. “Come on!” I whined. “It’s milk. It’s in a baby bottle. I want to drink it. I thought that’s what you wanted from me.” I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “I don’t understand you sometimes.” The dig was probably unnecessary. Her hesitation was annoying at worst. Goat’s milk had lost its novelty. It was nothing special. I’d just have to tank up on tap water in Beouf’s room, assuming that we got to school with enough time to ask before Ivy and I were harnessed up. A glance at the clock told me I’d have enough time if we left now. I reached up for Janet’s hand. “Okay. Sorry. Let’s go.” Janet did not take my hand. “Why do you want it?” Damn. I’d shaken her. That gave me no small amount of pride. Even in the darkness of pre-dawn I could feel her wrestling with herself. Her baby crazy and wanting me to be her perfect Little boy was battling the rational part that just plain knew better. I took a step back. Wow. This was certainly unexpected. So was how I replied: “If Beouf and Zoge have to change me, it’s gonna be inconvenient for them because of the extra layers of clothing and no snaps.” Sometimes the truth was the best tool. And yes, the crux of that day’s great rebellion was to purposefully turn a thirty to ninety second process into a three to five minute process, and have it happen multiple times; and thus inconvenience the giants. It was a mean spirited and petty idea; not a silver bullet. It certainly wasn’t Monday’s ‘Love Bomb’. “Really?” Janet sounded confused, maybe even amused or disappointed. “Seriously? That’s it? You want to pee your pants faster to annoy your teachers?” I shrugged and felt myself blush. Not every idea was gonna be a winner. ‘Yeah.” She put her hand to her mouth and stifled a giggle. “That’s…that’s so you, Clark.” “So can I have some milk, or not?” I pressed. I craned my neck and looked at the clock again. This strange battle of wills was dragging out longer than I’d intended. Janet bowed her head and allowed herself a smile. “Yeah. Sure.” Instead of opening the refrigerator, she surprised me by leaning left, opening the cabinet, and taking out an empty bottle and top. Only then did she open up the refrigerator and reach for the purple carton of goat’s milk. “Janet!” I whined. “What are you doing?” I pointed to the pre-filled baby bottle right next to the carton. A similar one had been stocked last week. “You’ve already filled one up. Let’s just take that.” She was already forgetting the diaper bag on the regular, now pre-filled bottles were escaping her notice. I was the one being put to bed way too early, but she was the one that was decidedly not a morning person. My supposed Mommy reached in and froze, her hand hovered between the two containers for a second longer than was comfortable. “Alright,” she said. She slipped the baby bottle full of milk into her hand awkwardly beside the overlarge shake. Then she reached down and took my hand. “Let’s go. You can drink it in the car. No spraying it everywhere.” “Okay…” Crud, I hadn’t even thought of that. On the way out the door, I noticed something was missing from the hook by the door. “Where’s the diaper bag?” I asked. “I already dumped it out, repacked it and put it in the car.” “Touche,” I told her. She’d learned a thing or two. As promised she strapped me into the car seat and handed me the bottle. As predicted her eyes watched me hungrily while I suckled on it. Typical Amazon. I no longer tasted the rubber nipple, my tongue had just accepted that as ‘normal’ even if it wasn’t ‘good’. I gulped the heavy cream down, not even attempting to savor it. There’d be a second course of water to add to things as long as Janet didn’t drive terribly slowly. “Do you like it?” Janet asked. In reply I kept chugging just fast enough to not accidentally induce vomiting. “Yeah,” she said. “You like it.” Less than halfway through our morning commute I finished the bottle and laid my head back, allowing myself a belch followed by a massive yawn. I ignored Janet’s “Awwww” and allowed myself to zone out. I felt…strangely tranquil. Not quite drowsy, not quite a food coma. I wasn’t sleepy but it would have been easy enough to allow myself to go to sleep. I’d never had a major surgery before, but I’d always heard how there are anti-anxiety drugs and light sedatives that make it so that the patient wouldn’t be overly stressed prior to being put under anesthetic. It was kind of like that. “Tired?” Janet prodded from the driver’s seat. I drew in a deep breath, causing me to consciously recognize how much my breathing had slowed. “No.” “Would you like some more at bedtime?” Janet dared to ask. “Milk helps a lot of people sleep.” Cautious as she was being, she was still enjoying this too much. The possible implications that Janet had finally figured out how to listen to my nightly hate whispers and was trying to knock me out didn’t come to me until the ride home from school that day when she offered it again. Feeling incredibly calm I decided to deflect and parry where I once might have simply butted heads. “If milk makes people sleepy, why do we serve it for breakfast…or lunch? Aren’t we supposed to be productive or something immediately after?” “Ha!” Janet replied. “Good point. You’d think we’d push milk as a dessert food instead of part of a balanced breakfast.” A beat. “You’re still going to eat your breakfast, right?” After downing the milk I wasn’t particularly hungry but felt like I could eat. “Sure.” “Good.” A few minutes later, I toddle walked ahead of Janet, slightly energized by the early caloric intake, and partly because I was in a rush. Beouf opened the door for me, waiting at the threshold. “Good morning, Clark.” I bit my tongue to stop anything untoward from coming out. The smile I produced was hollow and didn’t reach my eyes. “Good morning, Mrs. Beouf. How are you?” Beouf’s didn’t reach hers either. Wonderful. “I’m well, Clark. I like your new outfit. You look very handsome” I gave a stiff, overly formal bow. “Thank you, ma’am. My Auntie Jessie bought it for me last Friday.” Beouf’s expression darkened slightly. I’d just told her I’d been rewarded for bad behavior. She allowed me to slide past her and I walked into the classroom with the same relative comfort and familiarity that I’d possessed when I would saunter in from the back entrance. I closed my eyes and inhaled, savoring the smell of java that still permeated the air. My brain had yet to fully filter that nostalgic scent out. “I hope you enjoyed your morning coffee…” I needn’t have bothered adding in ‘...without me.’ She heard those last two words inside the silence. Beouf remained genial, but curt. “I did. Thank you…” Janet followed up behind me, diaper bag in tow. She dug into the overstuffed thing and pulled out half a dozen diapers. “I haven’t been keeping track but I gotta figure we’re almost out.” Beouf took the Monkeez from Janet and pivoted to pass the potty pants over my head to Zoge behind me. “This should last for at least two days with what we have left. Maybe till the end of the week.” “It might not,” Janet said. “I’ll bring you a big box from home just in case.” I saw Beouf shoot her a slightly confused look, to which Janet replied, “I’ll catch you up on the way up front.” She held the door open for Beouf and the pair slinked off together, leaving me alone with the Zoges. Speaking of the Yamatoan and her pet, while she busied herself adding Janet’s donation to my personal stack in the bathroom, her so-called daughter kept a respectful distance. “Hello, Clark.” Ivy said. She was dressed in the exact same hoity toity princess outfit she’d worn on Friday. She gave me a curtsey, same as always. “You look very cute today.” “Thanks,” I said. I flinched at my own slip up and kicked myself. ‘Cute’ is not something I wanted to be, but stupid small talk would get me in less trouble than telling her to shove it. “Why are you wearing that thing?” I gestured to the outfit. “My Mommy dressed me in it.” I kicked myself again. Should’ve seen that response coming. “Yeah,” I told her. “But why? You got your picture taken before we all…blergh!” I mimed a stream of projectile vomit shooting out of my mouth and spilling onto the floor. “You don’t need to do any retakes.” Ivy’s eyes refused to blink, instead boring into me and challenging me. “Why do I need a reason to dress pretty?” “You just said that you didn’t dress…” I stopped myself. Ivy had internalized so much of the giants’ circular logic traps over her years of captivity that she could utilize them almost as naturally as they could. “Nevermind,” I said. I called out, “Mrs. Zoge, I’m thirsty. Can I please get a bottle of water please?” Zoge came out of the bathroom weilding a faded purple hairbrush. There were three people in my life that could hold an implement like that and I wouldn’t have taken it as a direct or implied threat. Zoge was one of them, so my brain filtered out the object as nothing more than a curiosity. “The opportunity for second chances is one that is plentiful to children and increasingly rare for adults,” she said. I chewed on my tongue as the riddle sunk in. “Hmm?” “Ivy did not enjoy Picture Day. This is a second chance for her.” She was answering for her so-called daughter. Made sense. “Ah. So about that water…” My question went unanswered at first. Zoge took a knee and lightly gripped my shoulder with her free hand. “Hold still.” I was given no time to question. The classroom aide took the hairbrush and started dragging it over my scalp. “Ow. Ow. Ow.” I flinched and fidgeted as the bristles scratched at my scalp and flattened out my hair. “Why?” “Your hair is messy and it’s picture day,” Zoge said. “You need a haircut.” My speech came out in short stuttering bursts in time with the little nips and pinches that came with Zoge trying to untangle my overgrown curly carrot top. “Tell that. Ow. To. Ow. My Mommy.” Had I been in charge of my own hair, I’d have either cut it at home at least twice already or gelled it flat. Conversely, if I still needed to shave, I’d probably look like a wild animal by now. The difference in aesthetic between a messy toddler and a homeless person was a matter of stubble. “Ow!” I yelped. That last pass really stung! “Sorry, baby.” Zoge looked over her shoulder. “Ivy. Can you get me a wipe, please?” Ivy rushed to obey and got a spare pack from Zoge’s activity table. Zoge paused in scraping my head long enough for me to start patting my face and clothing. Had my morning milk dribbled onto my clothes or something? The wipes, as it turned out, were for the top of my head. Zoge released my shoulder and started patting my head down with wipes in an attempt to wet it. “Really?” I whined. “I’m doing my best,” Zoge said evenly. “Just a few stubborn spots left.” “Maybe you could spit in his hair?” Ivy suggested. I couldn’t tell if she was saying that to agitate me or whether that was her lack of personal boundaries and hygiene coming into play. Zoge ignored her and kept pawing at my hair with the brush. I paid closer attention to the brush strokes and made a mental image of how I was starting to look. “At least don’t part it in the middle,” I grunted. “Part it to the left.” Oddly enough, she did. At least there was one thing an Amazon would listen to me about. Zoge lowered the brush to the floor and dangled the pacifier in front of my face. “Do you want to put this in your pocket or to have it out?” My face went blank. Something wasn’t computing for me. “Away? Pocket?” Velcro ripped open on my bib and Zoge placed the binky inside. I looked down in amazement at the strand running from my collar down to the stitched frog on my chest. Why hadn’t I thought of that? Granted it wasn’t much of an improvement, but it was an improvement nonetheless. The flap on the bib took up the stop off of the frog’s head, so opening the pocket made the amphibian open its mouth. The red pacifier ribbon running from the bib pocket up to my collar made it kind of look like the cloth frog was licking my neck. I did my best to think of it more like a pocket watch. “There you go,” Zoge said. She gave the bib pocket a pat. “Your paci’s not gone. It’s right here if you need it.” “Thanks,” I heard myself say. “Welcome.” I rattled my head and remembered that I wanted a drink. “Water?” Zoge stood up and regarded the clock. “Regrettably, we do not have the time, my love. If you are still thirsty after breakfast I shall fill yours up just as Circle Time begins.” Though the patter of her speech remained that gently bubbling brook, the rest of her started picking up speed, snagging the walking leashes. I ignored another impulse to argue. Zoge had come and saved me from certain humiliation. In my book, that earned her at least a day of peace. “Yes, ma’am.” It didn’t take her very long to click the walking belts in place. Ivy was feeling bold enough to take the spot tethered next to me so that we’d be side by side. Maybe I was becoming her ‘normal-not-good’ too. The first bell signaling student arrivals toned through the campus speakers when we were less than a dozen steps out the door and kids were getting off the bus, flooding walkways, rounding corners, going to their classrooms or the cafeteria; chatting endlessly to one another; walking and gradually picking up speed as they started an unofficial race and then slowing down as soon as the first adult came into sight. Half a year ago, I’d be on the lookout for every familiar face, saying good morning and giving gentle reminders; trying to be a good example both as a proper adult Little and as an educator. At present, everyone older than a first grader was just another pair of legs trotting on by. My brain told me to pay attention to body language and head position so that I didn’t get trampled by an Amazon or Tweener kid looking the wrong way. Otherwise, I was preoccupied with pondering what fresh hells I’d either create or endure that day. If there were any remarks or cooing or taunting from former students and former colleagues my ears filtered them out. They were nothing more than the chirping of birds and croaking of frogs; easily disregarded over the smell of bus diesel and the loud hum of engines. Tracy and Ambrose had beaten us out to the loop and were waiting for the pre-K bus to pull around. As usual, Tracy was standing at attention, staring off into the middle distance and looking like a half-sized clone of Ambrose. I tried to throw her a grin or make eye contact; my own subtle way of thanking her in public, but the hope was in vain. She might as well have been one of those fancy Albienese castle guards with the fuzzy hats; and even I wasn’t fool enough to reach my hand up and wave to her. That would have been like dangling chum in front of Ambrose’s dead shark eyes. There was a brief and happy silence for the two minutes before the last buses pulled up, and Ivy and I were corralled around so that we were facing the direction we’d come from. A disadvantage to the line leash system Beouf and Zoge had adopted was that it was more difficult to maneuver us when compared to the old hand holding method. Worst case scenario with hand holding the back of the line would become the new front. Out came my classmates carried and then hooked up two by two. I waited patiently and passively as each pair was unbuckled from their bus seats and set down on the sidewalk. Being passive was easier that particular morning. The cold air and full belly was making me chill like a well fed alligator. I passed the time puffed out air between my lips. It wasn’t nearly cold enough to see my breath; Oakshire didn’t get that kind of weather until late December or early January; but it was still mildly amusing to picture it. Maybe I’d ruffle a few feathers by pretending to smoke one of those days, assuming I hadn’t escaped by then and could afford to draw attention to myself. “Hey, Gibson,” Billy called three rows back. “You look cute!” It was not a compliment the way Billy said it, but it wasn’t anything more serious than semi-friendly teasing. I looked behind me and called over Tommy and Jesse’s heads “They’re redoing Picture Day, dude. Mrs. B. washed your clothes. She’ll probably be.dressing you up, too.” Billy had come off the bus wearing a sky blue long sleeved t-shirt with Albert the cartoon mole on the front and black denim jeans. Not terrible but not nearly precious enough for a typical Amazon’s baby book. “Oh,” Billy grunted. “Yeah. Right.” I twisted myself up doing an about face and gestured to my overalls. “Check it out! No snaps!” My fingers danced along my inner thighs with a flourish. Then, I ripped open the velcro bib and shut it closed. “And I’ve got pockets!” “Pockets?!” Mandy, Shauna, and Annie gushed in rapid succession; their voices overlapping with one another. Their collective gazes honed in on my chest and their mouths watered with unconcealed envy. Billy did his best to hide an approving grin and failed. “Dude. Nice.” “Hmph,” Ivy whispered beside me. I clicked my teeth together and saw her jolt a bit. Truly, I was a preschooler among infants. Turning back around I allowed my eyes to drift further towards Ambrose and Tracy. The last of what should have been my students were lining up in a single file. They were milling out of the bus, holding the hand railing with their backpacks slung over their shoulders, concentrating on each step as if they feared the tiny stairway might drop out from beneath them at any moment. Ambrose, the warthog, stood there with her arms crossed, giving slight nods of approval when each student dismounted onto the pavement and got in line, no hand holding. Tracy stood stock still, not having moved an inch since I’d seen her. My kids were getting off the bus by themselves? This early in the year? As much as I hated to admit it I was slightly impressed. It wasn’t nearly enough to make up for literally everything else; a sweet tasting poison at best, but it was something. It was like that myth about King Linkin getting shot in a booth: When the royal guards got to his grieving widow they famously said ‘Other than that, Your Majesty, how was the show?’ Like an old mother hen, I counted them with my eyes. One-short. It took me no time at all to know who was missing from the lot. “Elmer,” I mouthed. Were I that poor sensitive kid’s mother, I’d give him plenty of sick days too. Thank the school board that preschool wasn’t mandatory and thus there was nothing a pug like Ambrose could do to hold him back. Thank whatever twist of fate that put him in my class at age three last year and that he was quick to pick up toileting. And pray to whatever goddess, demon, nature spirit, fae, or eldritch horror that Ambrose wouldn’t find a way to set his progress back before Kindergarten. “Clark,” Zoge gently snapped me back to my own body. “It’s time to go to breakfast.” She took the front of the leash and led us back the way we came so that we could turn and go into the cafeteria. Both the preschool bus and the Littles’ bus had unloaded their precious cargo, but the preschool bus in the lead hadn’t left yet. Looking at Tracy’s growing unease and feeling Ambrose’s quiet aura of malice, I was able to deduce why. Elmer was still on that bus. Elmer was a four year old Tweener. He was the only student on my caseload that was still shorter and weaker than me. Tracy was a full grown Tweener and she was only slightly bigger stronger than an average Amazon fifth grader. Most every Amazon would be able to manhandle and bully someone like her halfway through middle school depending on whether or not they were a late bloomer. There was no possible way that Elmer had the fine motor strength to hit the release on a standard seatbelt. The world wasn’t made for Littles. Tweeners weren’t much better off, especially early on in life. And Ambrose was letting Elmer feel that gross physical inadequacy. I mentally took back the sliver of grudging respect I’d felt a moment prior. As we passed the preschoolers, all standing straight and forward facing like a well trained militia, my assistant started to lean forward. If I hadn’t been hyperfocused on it, I wouldn’t have picked up on the subtle shift towards the bus or how the backs of her heels were starting to rise. “Tracy…” I heard Ambrose growl. My assistant stopped before she’d managed to lift a foot. I kept looking back over my shoulder, past my classmates to get a glimpse of the morose parade of preschoolers. When would they get Elmer? I took three steps and looked back again. Was Ambrose waiting for him to scream or cry? Three more steps and I took another peek. Would she force him to have a bathroom accident? “Clark,” Ivy hissed. “Stop.” Of course, I ignored Ivy and kept walking and looking back behind us, even as the preschoolers vanished further and further on the horizon. Three more steps and another glance. The hell was wrong Ambrose? Was she going to have the kids miss breakfast and then scapegoat Elmer? I half expected Beouf to say something to me about facing forward, but the last time I turned around, I only saw the back of her head. She was looking back, too. I started to open my mouth. I couldn’t say anything, but Beouf could. Screw that! Beouf should.say something! “Melony! Go see what’s going on!” That’s what I would have shouted, anyways. My toe stubbed on an uneven panel of walkway. Combined with my bulky underwear, the rigidity of my brand new shoes and overalls, my body positioning, and just bad luck, I was tripping over my own feet and had earned myself a one way trip to the pavement; pun not intended. “Meeeh!” A hand shot out and grabbed the straps of my overalls. It yanked me with such force that I risked falling on my ass instead of my face, but it had enough control and precision so that I was able to regain my balance and footing. “Toldja,” Ivy said. She’d not so much as broken her stride. The line slowed to a stop at the cafeteria entrance. “Mrs. Beouf,” I heard Zoge call over our heads and point. The front entrance of my old classroom was almost catty-corner to the main cafeteria entrance. Beouf and I both followed Zoge’s finger to the serving cart positioned right next to the door. “It looks like Ms. Ambrose’s class will be continuing the routine of taking breakfast in the classroom.” It’s only in hindsight that I remember how scrunched up and tense Beouf’s shoulders were in that moment or how white her knuckles were gripping Chaz’s stroller. I didn’t consciously register it because my own body was too busy doing the exact same thing. Our eyes scanned the horizon. Waiting. One…two…three…four…five… Finally, Tracy crested the horizon, holding Elmer’s hand while every other student marched single file behind them. I turned back around and forced myself to relax. Zoge looked down at me and nodded knowingly. My pulse was throbbing in my ears when she finally opened the door and led us in. Drinking all the milk I could manage while barely nibbling on dry cereal so that all the liquids would run right through me wasn’t nearly as enjoyable as I’d anticipated. I was too busy imagining what quiet indignities might be befalling my kids in the torture chamber that used to be my classroom. ******************************************************************************************** The morning rushed by quickly if uneventfully. I’d kept well hydrated and my pants remained soaked throughout. I was getting a pretty good idea of what it was like to be a sprinkler. Every time I felt the need to pee I released, only to have the need rise up again a minute or so later. My body was processing so many different fluids at once that holding it in was becoming distinctly uncomfortable. A slight need would balloon into total urgency before a center’s timer went off. Zoge and Beouf kept refilling my bottle, too. “You know if you leak,” Beouf warned, “I don’t have any pants to swap out.” “I thought I wasn’t potty trained anymore,” I said. “Is worrying about my pants my responsibility now?” The teacher pursed her lips. “You’re right, baby. It isn’t. I’m sorry.” That was one of the nastiest things I could remember Beouf ever saying to me. I reckoned that she was finally showing her true typical colors. I got changed once during Circle Time and again with snacks. Because of what I’d done to myself and the extra effort it took to slide the overalls up and down my ankles and untangle the straps, I was wet again within ninety seconds after crossing the threshold. It didn’t go unnoticed that Zoge patted the turned up cuffs near my ankles along with the bib pocket just in case I’d smuggled something in. A fringe benefit of all this nonsense was it gave me something to think about beyond this morning. About forty five minutes before Lunch, Zoge started leading us in Yamatoan nursery rhymes while Beouf put those of us who’d ‘missed out’ on Picture Day back into overly clean, overly showy clothes. I kept holding my breath thinking she might put me back in the sailor top and hat out of spite, but that was the only thing I was holding. Luckily, that clapback never came. “Okay boys and girls,” Beouf announced when everyone had been redressed as needed. “The photographer is set up in the media center today. We’re going to go there to make up our pictures, and then I want those of us who are getting retakes to be in the front of the line and I want everyone to make good choices and be on their very best behavior.” I felt more than one set of eyes zero in on me; some in anticipation, others in quiet disapproving dread. Sitting splay legged on the floor I did an exaggerated shrug. “What?” I said. “I don’t do the same trick twice.” No one laughed. Not even Chaz or Annie. It sounded funnier in my head. I stood up and felt my Monkeez sag down and catch on the crotch of my overwalls. During the course of the nursery rhymes, my pants had progressed from very squishy to terribly swampy. I didn’t need a mirror to notice the thick swollen bulge underneath my semi-mature outfit. I almost asked for a change and then second guessed myself, deigning to get to the front of the line. My legs were chafing like mad by the time we got to the school library, otherwise known as the library. Positioned between the cafeteria and the front office -it was technically part of the same building as the front office despite having no direct access to it- the library was never a place I frequented too often. In some bygone halcyon age of education, going to the school library was a separate scheduled activity on par with Art, Music, and P.E. Years of steady budget cuts (the kind that keep a death trap bug zapper in the event that a Little has a case of irritable bowels) had long since seen the decline of the library’s prestige. The position of librarian had been reduced to a glorified checkout clerk who also set up fancy book displays instead of canned goods. Teachers were encouraged but not required to find time to take their students to the library but in an environment of high stakes testing and zero excuses, most didn’t bother to take the time and just built their own personal classroom libraries from childhood favorites and rummage sale finds. Better dozens of books to recommend to kids than hundreds of questionable quality; or so the justification went. To me, the library was the one place big enough to house all the teachers in a single space for staff meetings, and I zoned out for most of those anyway. As a result, re-entering it as one of Beouf’s ‘students’ was less of a system shock as much as it was passingly familiar. It wasn’t even that familiar considering that the photography crew had already moved around reading tables and bookshelves in order to make room for tripod cameras, softboxes, lighting, reflectors and a few props.. What did shock me, however, was the sight of my kids. Ambrose had beaten us here and the students were in the middle of getting their pictures taken. Yet again, they stood in single file like tiny tin soldiers. On the far side of the setup, Ambrose waited with her hands folded in front of her. Closest to her was a lightbox with a prop student desk set in profile to the camera. It was the old fashioned kind where the top was connected to the seat and the storage space for books laid tucked away beneath it. Put it on stilts and it would have resembled a highchair. Put wheels on instead and it was almost a stroller. It was a wonder on par with spontaneous combustion that the design had somehow faded into extinction in Amazon managed school districts. Go figure. One by one, young Amazons walked up, sat in the prop desk even though their feet dangled, folded their hands neatly on top of the desk portion, and angled their upper bodies towards the camera. They’d put on a quiet, tight-lipped smile not unlike a certain witch Principal, the photographer would count to three, a flash would go off, and then the child would dismount and stand behind the big boar who had stolen them from me. Clearly, they’d been practicing for this. I always hated photos like that. Who sat that way? It was so unnatural; so fake; so perfectly on brand for the type of childhood that Amazons loved to enforce. If more Amazons treated their children like children, I pondered, they might not feel the need to infantilize others and make up for missed opportunities. Just a few steps closer to us was the same giant alphabet block prop that I’d done my impression of a vomit volcano from. It was in its own set up with a separate camera on a tripod pointed straight at it. The two displays were close enough that someone Beoufs size could stretch out and touch one with their toe while skimming the other with their fingertips, but the magic of photography would make them seem like completely separate venues. The preschoolers continued filing one at a time and getting their picture taken. It had all the mechanical precision of a military operation or an assembly line. Meanwhile Beouf and Zoge quietly unhitched us while constantly whispering for us to be good and hold still. I squeezed my legs together slightly and reminded myself how soaked I’d made myself. I should have asked to be changed before we left but I was still wrestling with myself on speaking up. The presence of my kids wasn’t making it any easier. The one exception to the flawless and impersonal parade of preschoolers was Elmer. He and Tracy were at the back of the line, with my aide holding the Tweener’s hand. When their time came up, she escorted him towards the set and veered stage right. The photographer in his stupid turtleneck and ugly goatee sidestepped to the secondary camera. My aide lifted Elmer up by the arms and placed him on the prop alphabet block. Everything about my personal state of dress and hygiene was put on the backburner while red tinged tunnel vision took over. Ambrose was making the one Tweener in her class get his picture taken on the baby prop. That cunt! Tracy rubbed him gently on the back and whispered something to him. Elmer nodded, sullenly and she cleared out of the shot. “Okay,” The photographer said. “One…two…three!” The camera flashed. Elmer’s empty smile was no different than anyone else’s. Tracy swooped in and got Elmer off the prop. She didn’t get far however. “Tracy…” Ambrose growled. Tracy released Elmer’s hand and he was allowed to walk back by himself. Tracy stayed by the baby prop. My jaw went slack watching Tracy boost herself up onto the block. No. No way. She wasn’t. Tracy smoothed out her white peasant top and navy blue skirt. She daintily crossed her ankles and placed the flat of her palms onto the edge of the block for balance. She was. “One…two…three!” Tracy flashed her a marvelous yet understated smile that showed the first glimpse of teeth I’d seen since arrival and the camera bulbs flashed. Without further comment, she slid back down to her feet, adjusted the back of her skirt and took her place holding Elmer’s hand at the back of the line. My face was numb. It made a twisted kind of sense why the kids were acting like tiny soldiers; Ambrose was on the warpath. She was doing her level best to degrade both Tracy and Elmer. I wanted to scream. I was genuinely tempted to remove my pacifier and jam it in my mouth so that I could quiet myself. I settled for gripping the front flap of my bib pocket and opening and closing it a few times. I pretended that the quiet scratching sound of velcro being ripped apart was what it would sound like when I clawed Ambrose’s face off. I thought I knew what it was to hate an Amazon before and was realizing just how wrong I was. The preschoolers marched by us. The Amazon kids all turned their heads and regarded us, me specifically. A few kept their eyes straight ahead. Most smiled and giggled playfully like they were playing a game. Emily, the three year old whose mother had caught me pooping my pants, went so far as to wave to me. Discipline only went so far when someone’s age was measured in double digits. If the other kids crinkled with padding, I didn’t notice it or my brain attributed it to one of the nine other Littles bunched together with me. Yet when the Tweeners passed by my ears twitched with recognition. My eyes darted immediately to the back of Elmer’s pants. His polo-shirt was riding up high on his back and I got visual confirmation of the very edge of the wide elastic waistband common with actual underwear. I exhaled and unclenched. Just my imagination and raging paranoia. “Clark,” Beouf said. “You’re up, kiddo.” Bowlegged, I walked up to the block. Beouf set me up and seated me on the prop. A distinct squelch caused me to tense up and I felt the tension rush back into me. The Monkeez was so saturated that any urine would have to splash all the way down my front and somehow defy gravity to travel up my back to the few remaining dry spots. Had I peed even more and forgotten about it? I was dangerously close to leaking. “Okay my dude,” the photographer said. “Smile!” I did not. Beouf took her place behind the camera and whispered for him to take the picture. “One…two…three…” A flash of light and dancing spots later and I was done. The rest of the retakes went in similar speed and fashion; only slightly less time efficient than Ambrose had been by virtue of us being unable to climb onto a big wooden box with aid. Beouf looked at a nearby clock and started to hustle us out. “Boys and girls,” she said, “We’re running a little behind schedule, so the kids who got their pictures taken will hold hands on the way to the cafeteria like we used to. Mrs Zoge will walk with everyone else. No complaints came, primarily because the people most likely to whine or brat about it were the ones getting the special treatment. My hands quickly ran down the back of my legs, afraid that I’d feel the same wet half moon patches of a leak. My fingers came back dry but I was right on the edge. We walked to the cafeteria with me sopping all the way and my pride wrestling with self-preservation as always. We made it into the noise and hustle and bustle of the cafeteria with kids shouting to talk in between mouthfuls of mass produced lasagna. “Good thing pictures were before lunch,” Beouf joked back to Zoge. Zoge nodded appreciatively. At our quasi-highchair table, I gave in and decided to ask for a change. The white noise of a hundred students, cooks, and aides on cafeteria duty would mask the request, and their own preoccupation with themselves would hide the sight of me being carted off to the restroom with just a diaper and wipes in tow. I tugged on Beouf’s pant leg. “Mrs. B.,” I said. “Can you take me to the bathroom? I’m um…afraid to sit down for a long time if you know what I mean.” The faintest hint of a smug grin tugged at the corner of the Amazon’s mouth but her eyes were half closed like a contented cat. She started to throw my own words back in my face. “I thought worrying about your pa-…” she stopped herself from finishing the thought. Professionalism was winning out over cruelty. “Okay, hon. Let me take care of it.” Discreetly, she bent over and grabbed a spare diaper and wipes from the emergency stash that had become part of the mealtime delivery package. She squatted all the way down so that she could boost me up by the back of my knees instead of my butt and allowed me to wrap my arms around the back of her neck to steady myself. She held me in her right arm, and pinned the changing supplies to her body with her left, covering them up. The bathroom doors were left wide open with stoppers this time of day so she wouldn’t need a free hand. “I’ll be right back,” she told Zoge as she passed. “Keep setting up. They can eat with their hands if they want.” Zoge nodded and started loading Littles into bucket seats with all the speed and smoothness of a movie cowboy loading bullets into his revolver. Positioned as I was, I was looking over Beouf’s shoulder, watching the dining area of the cafeteria get gradually farther away. If I hadn’t been, or if I’d had the luxury to be looking literally any other direction I wouldn’t have seen what I saw. The preschool class had just made it to their lunch table. They’d gotten into the cafeteria ahead of us but still had to go through the lunch line like every other classroom. Tracy, as usual, was busy opening milk cartons and unwrapping sporks, straws, and napkins bundled up in plastic. Her lips moved in tight little bits; likely saying things like “Here you go,” and “Eat up”. None of that was out of place either before or after my fall from adulthood. It’s just what was done. What was out of place was Ambrose. She’d remained in the cafeteria instead of stalking off to the teacher’s lounge or whatever rock lesser evolved lifeforms liked to crawl under. Something new. Something dangerous. Something out of routine. This was not ‘normal’ and I knew deep in my heart of hearts that this couldn’t be ‘good’. When Tracy had worked her way down an entire side of the table and reached the end, Ambrose glided like a barracuda behind her. I watched in horror as Ambrose took two fingers and hooked them; inching closer and closer to the back of Tracy’s skirt. A diaper check. In public. And Tracy was completely preoccupied and oblivious. Flashes of the first time Zoge did it to me took the place of the camera’s leftover flashing spots. She’d done it to me countless times since then, but there was no shaking that feeling of absolute violation from the first time. More importantly, I had long since accepted that the first time had been some sort of accident or misunderstanding. Not so here. I pushed myself up on Beouf’s shoulders and filled my lungs up. This would not stand. “MS. AMBROSE!” The booming voice rang out, but did not silence the ever present dull roar. A few heads turned and then quickly thought better of it. The giant startled and backed away from the Tweener. Ambrose’s skin became pallid and her eyes flashed with something resembling something other than predatory hunger or psychotic rage. I hadn’t been the one to yell out; someone had beaten me to it. That someone was Mrs. Brollish. Just a few paces away from the monster, a demon of an entirely different caliber stood with her arms crossed and one fit steadily tapping the floor. The air exited my lungs. I had no idea that Brollish could yell like that. Lady Death rarely raised her voice beyond what an actor might do to project, and most of the time it was practically a stage whisper. Ambrose regained some composure and calmly stepped over to her master. At the same time, Tracy adjusted her skirt again and scurried off to the other end of the table. Something finally clicked. There was a reason she kept adjusting her clothes. A Tweener had been crinkling, it just wasn’t Elmer. The cafeteria spun around three hundred and sixty degrees. Beouf had heard it too and spun to see what had happened. Like every other person in sight, she knew better than to get involved. The tables vanished faster and faster while Beouf picked up her pace. We bolted into the bathroom and Beouf called out “Hello?” When no one answered she kicked up the door stop with her foot and set me down on my feet so that she could lock the door. “Let’s get you changed, bubba.” “Beouf,” I said, my panic rising, “I think Tracy might be wearing a diaper.” The teacher didn’t make eye contact with me. She lowered to her knees and set the supplies down so she could focus on unbuckling the straps of my overalls. “She might be,” Beouf said. “But I don’t think she’s expressing Maturosis. Don’t worry. This is probably a misunderstanding or something.” The heavy denim fell down on its own, ripping the clip off my shirt and puddling around my ankles. “You don’t understand,” I said. “Ambrose is trying to get back at her! For telling you! For helping me!” Mel seemed to find my feet incredibly interesting. “You might be right,” she said. “I do not care for how Miss Ambrose talks or treats a lot of people.” One at a time she grabbed the heels of my sneaker and pulled down while I stepped out. “But it looks like Mrs. Brollish is handling it and if there’s anything wrong going on, it will be fixed given enough time.” There was no way she believed what she was saying. If I’d still been a peer of hers, we’d both be swearing up a storm and fuming about what we’d both just witnessed. I stepped out of my clothes, not caring that my diaper was a water balloon ready to pop. “Listen-!” I pleaded. Beouf picked me up and carried me dangling by the armpits over to the wall mounted changing table. She strapped me down at the chest and went back to pick up the fresh diaper. “This is a Grown-Up problem, hon. Grown-Ups will figure it out and handle it. You just worry about yourself.” My eyes started to burn. I couldn’t let something happen to Tracy. I couldn’t let her get punished or harassed or suffered because she genuinely wanted to help me and genuinely went out of her way to keep a stupid promise that probably wouldn’t have mattered in the long run. People helping me and then suffering for it; I couldn’t let that be the story of my life. I locked eyes with one of my oldest friends and forced my throat to stop closing up. “If you let Ambrose do to her what you did to me,” I threatened, “I’ll never forgive you Melony Beouf.” The words came out crystal clear and echoed around the porcelain cave, giving it a surreal kind of gravity. “If anything happens to her I’ll hate you for the rest of my life.” Beouf looked like she wanted to break down crying all over again. It was a good thing she didn’t or I would have too. I was changed, redressed, taken back into the cafeteria and fed lasagna. If there was talking to be done, announcements to be made, or instructions to be given, Zoge did it for the rest of the day. Beouf didn’t even hand me back to Janet after the buses pulled out. The next day we had a substitute. We were told that our teacher had to stay home and take care of her sick newborn granddaughter. I knew better.

loved this story, thanks for posting this. a lot of paths for the story to go as it developed. at the beginning I was thinking maybe a little daddy and amazon child or baby. then later wondering how far Jem was going to go. maybe Jem would be a baby or child to Nate, but only in private and still be an adult outside their home. it is nice to read an occasional consensual story from time to time.

This was adorable!

Thirty-Six “What’s in this, anyway?” Kylie asked, pulling her mouth from the nipple for just a moment–strings of saliva stretched between the bottle and her lips. “Is it good?” asked Mommy. “Is it just milk? I can’t remember the last time I drank a glass of milk.” Mommy laughed a little to herself–a knowing chuckle that Kylie might look back on in hindsight and consider an omen. I was grateful Mommy didn’t look in my direction–I was barely holding back some laughs myself, and I definitely would have lost it if Mommy and I made eye contact. Instead, I focused on the fresh diaper that Mommy had put me in not that long ago. I emptied my bladder into it–just a little seconds-long stream–with barely any thought or pause. This seemed to be happening more and more as of late. At times it seemed a little concerning, though never to the degree that I thought I needed to make a change in my lifestyle. It didn’t feel like my potty-training had just…expired. I still felt like, if I really wanted to, I could make it to the toilet before it was too late. The new routine was not having a routine at all–if I had to go, there was little point in holding it, and so I’d just let it go. Actually, maybe that’s exactly what losing one’s potty-training is… Kylie continued to slurp away at her bottle. I was actually kind of surprised that Kylie, herself, didn’t question the contents of the bottle more than she had. Mommy had explicitly told her, earlier today, what was in the bottle in the fridge and what it was for. Had Kylie just not been paying attention? Or did she have all the sense paddled out of her? The room was completely silent as Mommy and I watched Kylie down the milk. “All done,” Kylie said, thrusting her hand out towards Mommy with an empty bottle in hand. “You drank that quicker than I thought you would,” Mommy said. “Was it good?” Kylie blushed a little, wiping away a small dribble of milk from the corner of her mouth. “Yes…” “You’ve taken to infancy rather well.” “This isn’t going to leave this room, right?” Kylie asked. “You’re not going to tell anyone? You’re not going to parade me around town in a diaper?” Mommy laughed. “You’ve earned my silence. And as much as I’d love to take my babies around town, I think you’ve been cooperative enough that I’ll spare you that experience.” Kylie nodded, the answers to her questions seeming sufficient enough for her to share more. “I…like this.” “Yes, we know,” Mommy said. “Thank you,” Kylie says. “I needed this.” “We knew that as well. Didn’t we, Baby?” she asks me. “Y-yes, Mommy.” “Now, babies, I had to rush back to the hotel room to take care of this little situation–I should’ve never left a baby in charge of a baby. Thankfully, I had finished the conference panels I was on at that point, though I suspect there’s a few people who wanted to talk to me there who are wondering where I ran off to. I’ll need to make a few calls in the other room. Is it at all possible that I can leave the two of you alone for a little bit without worrying about you getting into trouble?” “We’ll do our best,” I said. Kylie just shrugged. “I’ve got plenty of energy left in my spanking hand, just keep that in mind.” We said nothing, as we both believed that to be the truth. Mommy left the room, returning to the bedroom, closing the door behind her. In less than a minute, I could hear the muffled tone of her voice talking on her phone. “Well,” I said, turning to Kylie, “welcome to…babyhood, I guess.” Kylie sighed, looking a little flustered. “I…I’m sorry.” “For what?” I did think that she had a lot to be sorry for, I just wasn’t sure what this particular apology was for. “Oh…a lot of things. I was mean to you, for one.” I felt my cheeks warm a little. There seemed to be little point in withholding the truth from her at this point: “I liked it.” “You probably did,” she said. “But I didn’t want you to like it.” “It’s fine,” I said. “Believe it or not, I’ve experienced much worse.” Her ears perked up a little. “Like what?” A rush of memories played in my head like a highlight reel. Getting passed around the laps of the executives in the boardroom. Messing myself in front of Lyndie. Being marched through the office in disgusting diapers. Pizza Girl standing in my doorway, looking down at my diaper and smirking. I finally just laughed, shaking my head. “Probably anything you can imagine. And if I haven’t done it yet, I assume that it’s only a matter of time before it happens.” “You pooped your pants at the mall,” she said, grinning a little. “That has to rank pretty high on the list of the worst things you’ve ever done.” “Probably. I’m, uh, sorry I ruined things with that guy.” I wasn’t actually sorry, but it felt like the right thing to say. She shrugged. “That probably wasn’t going to happen anyway. Or, at least not like I thought it would.” “Is that something you do often? Go to new cities, meet strangers, and try to charm your way into their pants?” She laughed and shook her head. “I sometimes think I want to be that kind of girl. But Ms. Heller kind of put things into perspective for me.” “She has a knack for that. But…how so?” “I’m just reminded that I really miss being a, uh, little girl. I guess. My mom stopped holding my hand at a pretty young age, you know? Figuratively and literally. And in my social scene back at home, you kind of have to grow up fast. It’s all about pretending to be mature and sexy and powerful and… I just miss drinking a bottle of milk and coloring with some crayons.” “You’re in good company, then.” “Fuck,” she said, rubbing her belly. “What’s wrong?” “My stomach doesn’t feel…good.” “Oh. Something you ate? Or…” I glanced over to the countertop where Mommy had placed Kylie’s empty bottle. “I dunno. I haven’t drank milk in a long time, so maybe it was just drinking so much of it at once.” “Yeah,” I said. “That’s probably it.” I was feeling guilty. It was one thing to push Kylie into diapers, but it was another to give her laxatives without her knowing. It seemed especially cruel to me. And while I wanted to tell Kylie the truth, it also felt like it’d be a betrayal of Mommy. But what if, just this one time, Mommy was wrong? It seemed a little too late for this epiphany, given that Kylie had already downed the entire bottle. But, I figured, I could probably do the next best thing. “So…actually, I have something I should tell you.” “Hmm?” She shrugged a little, as if there was little left in this world that would surprise her. “Did you poop your pants again?” “N-no,” I said, my cheeks automatically warming at her guess. “But…you might.” She squinted and tilted her head quizzically. “I don’t really see how that’s possible.” “The, uh, bottle of milk,” I said, pointing to the empty bottle on the counter. “It’s the one Mommy…er…Ms. Heller left for me this morning, remember? The one she told you to give to me in case I needed it?” I had quickly tried to image all the ways in which Kylie might have reacted–the possibilities ran the gamut from her punching me in the face to her getting up and running out of the suite and never being seen again. Instead, she laughed. She just laughed. “Are you okay?” I asked. “Like, you understand what I’m telling you, right? The bottle probably had some sort of laxative in it.” “Ah, fuck,” she said, laughing again as she shook her head. “You people are something else.” “I’m sorry,” I said. “I actually feel kind of shitty about it.” “But not as shitty as I’d feel, right? If I pooped in a diaper like you do?” I sighed. “You have every right to be mad. It was kind of irresponsible to…” “I’m not mad,” she said. “It’s just kind of silly. Did you think that I’d really squat down and mess myself in a diaper?” “I guess I didn’t really think about it all that much…” “Is Ms. Heller really expecting me to poop my pants? Like is this yet another hurdle I’m expected to jump through so that she doesn’t talk to my mother?” “I have no idea.” “At some point, I can’t keep playing this game anymore. What’s next? She’s going to make me suck on her tit before she puts me to bed in a giant crib?” “Look, Kylie, I don’t really know what to tell you.” “It’s fine,” she said. “Like I said, I’m not mad. Just a little amused. But, like, laxatives don’t make you uncontrollably shit yourself, right? Or else nobody would take them.” I shrugged, having no idea what Mommy put in the bottle. “I suppose you’re right.” If the bottle had been intended for me, she was probably counting on the fact that I’d just mess my diaper whenever the urges came over me. “I’ll just go to the bathroom when I have to go,” she said with a shrug. “Easy peasy.’ “Or…” She laughed. “Or?” “What if you just…did it.” “Did it? You mean, what if I just…filled my diaper up like a baby? Like you did?” I nodded, bracing myself in case it wasn’t too late to experience that punch to the face. “Yeah…” “What in the world makes you think I’d want to do that?” “I just…I dunno. I mean, you seem to like diapers a little bit, right? And the way that, uh, Mommy treated you earlier? You just know she’d love to clean you up if you did. So, like, if you think you’d ever be curious about seeing what it feels like…maybe this is the time to do it?” The room fell silent for a moment, and I watched the gears slowly turn in her head as she processed my words. From behind the bedroom door, I could hear Mommy talking on the phone. I couldn’t make out the words, but I could hear Mommy’s professional tone. She’d probably be tied up a while longer. “Are you actually suggesting that I just…mess my diaper?” I shrugged. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” “I know that.” “Forget I said anything,” I said, suddenly realizing how insane it sounded to ask someone else to use their diaper like I did. “Now hold on,” she said, stroking her chin. “I didn’t say that I wouldn’t.” “R-really?” “Maybe we could barter?” “Barter? Like…how?” “I can think of something–no, two things–I’d want in exchange for me making a mess in my diaper.” My heart began beating faster. I wasn’t sure that I liked giving her any sort of leverage over me, especially when it came to her pooping her own diaper. But…I was at least curious to see what she had in mind. “Like what?” “I want to see your dick in its little chastity cage. That is what she has you locked up in, right?” “Y-yeah.” That didn’t seem like that bad of a request. If she had asked, I might have even shown it to her without expecting her to have used her diaper in exchange. “And what was the other thing you wanted?” “Since you’re the one who gave me the tainted bottle, I think you should have a front-seat view for the action.” “How so?” “I want your face pressed against the back of my diaper while I mess it.” I immediately felt my cock strain within my cage as my face turned an entirely new shade of pink. I…wanted that. I wanted that very badly. “Oh…” was all that I could muster. “So? Do we have a deal?” “Y-yeah. I think that’d work for me.” “Okay, good. I guess we have a little time, right? I should probably wait for the laxatives to really kick in. I could make it all dramatic, right? Holding on for as long as I can before finally giving up the battle and just letting it all go?” I’ve definitely been there before. “Well…whatever you want to do, I guess. Do you think you could…go? Now? If you had to?” She shrugged. “Maybe? I’m feeling kinda…full. I don’t think I’ve gone in a bit, and I wonder if a bottle of milk, by itself, wouldn’t have been enough to get my insides going. But I could probably hold out a little longer.” I nodded, feeling a little too overstimulated to know how to respond. “But that means we have plenty of time,” she said. “If you, like, want to show me what’s in your diaper.” I sighed. What would Mommy say? If she were here? She’d probably reach over and pull down the front of my diaper herself. “Yeah,” I said. “I guess. But, like, you have to promise me that you’re not going to just run off and use a toilet later, then. We have a deal.” “Yeah, yeah,” she said, sarcastically rolling her eyes. “But don’t forget that you need to jam your sniffer into my diaper while I’m taking a dump in it.” My caged cock continued to throb. “I assure you, I didn’t forget.” “Well then? C’mon. Show me what she’s got you locked up in.” “Okay, fine. But…” “I’m not going to promise that I won’t laugh at you,” she said, very likely reading my mind. “Fair enough.” I reached between my legs and unsnapped the bottom of the onesie, letting my mildly-moist diaper sag a little. Kylie made no effort to stifle her giggles at this sight–not that I could blame her. “You must really want to see me use my diaper, huh?” I laughed as I began to tug at the front of my diaper. Not only did I want to see her use her diaper, but I found myself very excited about the prospect of having such an up close and personal view of the action. Yet I was actually laughing about how easy it would’ve been to have gotten me to show my cage earlier. All she really had to do was ask. And that, I think, went for everyone in the entire world. I’d probably do anything if I was asked to. Looking cute and wanting to humiliate me only made it easier. I pulled down the front of the diaper just enough to allow my locked up manhood to flop out from it. There it was. Forever stuck in a state of softness, thanks to the LilNub. “Holy shit,” she said. “That’s so…pathetic.” My cheeks flared further and felt a new wave of shame wash over me. Even in a pair of diapers herself, and possibly on the verge of using them, she still seems to have the upperhand when it comes to humiliating me. “It’s for Mommy, so…” “Do you like it?” “I like…her having that sort of control over me, yes.” “But do you like the feeling of being locked up?” “Not especially…” “When’s the last time she took that off of you? I bet it’s been so long since you got off.” “It hasn’t come off since she first put it on,” I confessed. “But…I got off last night.” I immediately regretted saying that. It felt like too much information to have divulged, and I was only opening myself to more questions. “Is that so? Did she fuck you in your ass or something?” “Uh…” She giggled again. “You know about that kinda stuff?” “I have the internet,” she said, shrugging. “Alright,” I said, starting to slide my cage back into my diaper. “No, wait,” she said. “Hm?” “Can I…touch it?” My heart beat a little faster, and I felt my palms getting a little clammy. I took a cautious glance towards the bedroom door. I wondered what Mommy would say if she was here now. Who was I kidding, she’d probably love watching Kylie manhandle my cage. “Y-yeah,” I finally said. She reached forward and grabbed it, feeling the weight and size of it in her hands. She brought her face closer, doing a more thorough inspection. It was torturous, having a cute woman so close to my cock–grabbing at it with her hands–with no chance of me being able to actually enjoy it. “Cute,” she offered, shrugging. “They make these plastic ones that are bright pink. You should ask her for one of those.” “I’m not a girl.” “What, a boy can’t wear pink? It’s not like you’re winning any ‘man-points’ while wearing a rainbow onesie and a unicorn diaper that you…” She quickly reached beneath me to feel the bottom of my diaper. “...a unicorn diaper that you’ve wet a little.” “Point taken. But this chastity cage seems more than sufficient.” “Well, be careful. If you don’t need to take it off to climax, she might as well just chop it off.” “She’s not going to cut my dick off.” She laughed, seeming to find her own scenario pretty hilarious. “Well, what do you think? Ready to shove your face in my diaper?” “Do you have to…go?” “Not yet. Do these sorts of things usually take a while?” I shrugged. “Well, just put your face into my diaper anyway. I want to see what it feels like.” I pulled open the front of my diaper and slipped my cage away and obediently crawled over to where she was squatting–her ass jutting out in the air behind her, just waiting for a foolish face to press itself into it. While this may not have been the most humiliating thing I’ve ever had to do, it might have, at least, ranked amongst the strangest. I leaned forward, slowly pressing my face against the bulky plastic padding of her diaper. It was as soft and crinkly as I expected it to be. Not exactly comfortable, though there was a quality to it that at least felt…’nice’ on some level. And then I felt the diaper growing warm. I thought, perhaps, it was just from the heat of my blushing face pushed against it, but then the texture of the diaper’s padding seemed to change too. “Are you…” “Oh wow,” she said, moaning a little. “I had no idea how amazing it felt to wet a diaper. Keep your face there. I want you to feel all of it.” She didn’t have to tell me twice. I could feel the diaper continue to get warmer and soggier. My ears were filled with the sound of the diaper’s crinkling and the faint sound of her stream making contact with the padding within. I certainly hadn’t made note of the bedroom door opening and closing behind me. “And…what exactly is happening with my babies?” Mommy asked. Her tone was crisp, but humored, cutting through the noise to make itself known. “Oh, uh…” I eased my face from Kylie’s backside. “We were just…” “No, no,” Mommy said. “Put your face back where it was. It looked good there.” I did as she asked, feeling my heart pulse rapidly as I did. “Kylie? Why is my baby boy planting his face in your bottom?” “He, uhm, told me about the bottle,” Kylie answered, some of the wind being taken from her sails. I could sense the respect she had for Mommy’s authority. A good spanking will do that to anyone. “And you somehow convinced him to shove his face into your diaper?” “Yes…” “Don’t mind me, then,” Mommy said, taking a seat on the loveseat near where we were stationed. “I have all day, and I don’t mind watching how this plays out either.”

Cute story! Thanks for writing and sharing it.

Chapter 2: I'm Coming Home In my window display, I saw the world as it was around me, easily spying on anyone who passed by. Actual children and Littles would saunter on by and look at me with dread or enthusiasm. I began to classify them myself, thinking how the three labels for this society didn’t seem enough. Bigs or Middles seemed simple enough, as their abilities weren’t affected too much by their height or other perceived advantages. Littles on the other hand, seemed to cover several different states of being. In front of me now were three perfect examples. The boy on the left looked fearfully at me. Tears coated his cheeks and dripped onto his shortalls and the pacifier that was strapped around his head. His pants seemed to bulge slightly, but unless you had somehow seen that the bulge was a diaper, I’m not sure most would have been aware of its presence. The Little was obviously unregressed and new to this lifestyle. As the other two Littles shoved into him, he braced himself on the window, showing off his thickly padded baby blue mittens. A large imposing man yanked on the reins I now just noticed on him and pulled him away. He didn’t fight the man, so I knew he wasn’t fresh, but he probably still thought about escape. A life not tethered and bound to another person. The second Little seemed embarrassed to be looking at me and the other bunny, Miss Pink, next to me. But still, there was something more to her. She seemed to go through small waves of joy and then trepidation. Not used to this lifestyle but giving in, particularly considering her far off look at one point and then the pawing at her diaper underneath her short dress. Using her diaper without thought, but she had obviously realized it afterward, noticed its state, and then wanted it to be changed. Whap! Whap! Whap! I saw a daddy spanking his Little girl over on a bench by the pretzel store. Normally a place of good smells and sights was now only prominently marked by a screaming and pleading Little as her butt was being spanked mercilessly by her daddy’s hand. “You.” Whap! “Do.” Whap! “Not.” Whap! “Use.” Whap! “Bad words.” Whap! “Like that!” Whap! Whap! Whap! “I’m sowwy! Oww! Oww! I’m sowwy, Daddy! It won’t happen… oww! Again!” It was a common sight around here and could almost be guaranteed to happen at least once every two hours when the mall was open. Anyway… the third Little was a boy, obviously regressed as drool began to coat the glass in front of us. His lack of teeth could have been a sign of lower regression, but his lack of inhibition over wearing just a onesie that thickly bulged out with what could only be a massive diaper and a pacifier dangling from its collar, covered in spit, said much more. That being said, I always found the eyes to be an excellent judge of a Little’s state, more than how they were dressed or even acted. The first Little’s eyes seemed fearful, but they had a spark of hope and possibly even defiance still. The second Little showed bits of defiance and possibly even a desire beyond this life, but still maintained a spark of youth and amusement. The drool-coated Little though, had no defiance, spark, or hope. His eyes seemed scattered and unfocused, which put this Little in the most severe of regression categories. Other Bigs may have classified Littles by their abilities, but I always thought of those as window dressings. Surgeries and all could eventually dull a Little, but their eyes would show the life still entombed within them until that point actually came, which could take days or even years depending on the Little. I even heard rumors from my display case that some Littles cracked within hours. ‘Poor little tykes…’ “Barry!” the Little’s mother rushed over and pulled them away from the glass as they crouched down to their level. “Just what am I going to do with you Little man?” “Mommy! Bunny!” the Little pointed excitedly toward me and seemed frustrated that he had been pulled away from his viewing spot. “Yes, Barry. That’s a Bunny, but you don’t need that one, honey. I’ll get you another one. Now, come on. Mommy needs to wipe up your mess, baby.” The mother was obviously right. Barry didn’t need me. Maybe another bunny, but not my model. She pulled a few wet wipes from a small package in her purse and wiped off the window that had been covered in drool, and then used another wipe on Barry’s face. He flinched but stayed still. Most seasoned Littles knew the consequences of fighting a Big, particularly in public, though I suspected his reaction was more of a Little’s impatience of such a minor and tedious task such as cleaning one’s face. “Rats, there goes another one,” Miss Pink breathed when no one was around. “I swear that girl was going to choose me.” Miss Pink and I had a competition to see who would be taken out of the display window first. Being a stuffed animal entitled us to no money or property, so personal pride meant a lot. “Eh. Maybe tomorrow, Miss Pink. I think it would take a lot for these Bigs to choose anything not fresh from the package.” Miss Pink only nodded, before quickly resuming her pose as a Big couple passed the store window. We had been in the display window together to advertise a new type of stuffed animal line, but we had come to learn that though Littles may look at us excitedly from the outside, the Bigs doing the paying would always want something fresh from a box Mr. Kincade kept in the back of the store in storage. Identical in every way, but that was just the way of a Big. Once they had passed, I continued up again. “I think we had a shot with the Little boy. If only he wasn’t so regressed.” “Tell me about it! That mother seemed like one of the nice ones too,” Miss Pink fondly recalled. “Maybe a bit forceful, but she even thought about getting him a bunny anyway. Not like the man with the lesser regressed one…” “True, but I don’t think she was too nice though. He was pretty regressed. I’m not sure if our technology could even touch his state.” “You underestimate our power, Mister Bunny, but I guess regressing them no matter what is just who they are. It’s practically genetic at this point!” She let out a small chuckle. “I think the other Little boy and the girl would have been perfect though. Still enough left to regress, but not so much that we would be considered a waste as compared to Jefferson.” I nodded and snapped back into place. Another Little girl was arriving and now looking at Miss Pink. Both her and her mother seemed excited, but I could see Miss Pink, despite her statuesque pose, was disappointed when they walked inside the store. ‘Another one wanting the fresh packaging…’ I thought of Jefferson still housed inside as I continued to pose. He was inside the shop and while his model was popular and even designed by a Little, his line was over 15 years old. He didn’t possess any technology, so most Bigs would buy him for their already regressed Littles to likely add to a growing collection amassed only in the post-regression state. Buying expensive toys that would serve no value beyond the love of a Little just didn’t make sense to anyone more fiscally responsible or thoughtful. Our line, Miss Pink and Mister Bunny, were among the newer models. We were designed to present subtle subliminal and hypnotic messaging for Littles to regress them into whatever desired state. Rather than mentally regress the Littles all at once though, we had been designed to only create a state of mind that could be easily regressed over time. We stood as a response to Little’s advocacy groups who had said ‘true hypnotic conditioning is often barbaric and ignores the thoughts of the Little.’ While natural occurrences, society, and continual conditioning would eventually regress a Little, our technology allowed the Little to ease into a regressed state with acceptance and without the bouts of fear most other Littles had while being regressed. It might as well have been mental regression, but from a legal standpoint, we were more human. From this, we were often thought of as a transitional toy, rather than a specific toy for those who were already regressed. Still good for after the Little had been regressed, but sadly too good for those who had already been changed. I peered down at my own fluffy form and to Miss Pink’s and marveled over how each part of us was designed to help with regression or to comfort a troubled Little. Her pink and my slight brownish-gray fur were made to be abused and shuffled around in different environments without the worry of wearing out immediately or looking dirty within seconds of use. Our fur was soft to allow the Little to use us for comfort when stressed or sad and was also designed to repel most dirt and grime associated with the activity of the typical Little lifestyle. Our large eyes gave us a more realistic appearance to not seem as babyish and yet portray an innocence, which would only make most Littles feel guilty if they rejected us. Our six appendages, ears included, were firm and resilient and allowed the Little to be able to grip us more easily to ensure points of grip were never a factor in why we weren’t at our Little’s side. Lastly, our arms and torso were adjusted from realistic proportions to be able, along with a wide head and pair of feet, to be hugged or locked into place under an arm without any interference. I was amused in my own thoughts when a larger than usual shadow darkened the light in front of me coming off the billboard advertising for Little modification surgery, where I had learned most of what I knew about this society. The screen was a constant grizzly reminder of this world and the operations that could be done to make them more compliant, like cutting tendons to enforce crawling and removing teeth to ensure they couldn’t be used as weapons or implements of escape. The list went on, so when such a damnable sign was covered up, it was enough to almost make me forget my pose and switch head positions to better view the figure. After a minute, the figure crouched to a level more associated with the Littles. An average height Big with chestnut hair and big blue eyes stood staring at me directly. She wore a small smile as she eyed me and the ads noting my features. I would have thought she was just another window shopper, but her eyes bore a fierceness and determination that I had yet to see with others in front of the window. It would have been downright terrifying if her array of freckles, dimples, tiny smile, and near sparkle of her eyes portrayed something different. Instead of looking at me like an object being used to hurt a Little, as most Big expressions seemed to showed, her expression almost showed a sign of relief and happiness as to my existence. If she had been half of her height, I would have compared her to a child looking at a present on Christmas for the first time, but she was a Big, so this was something else. My mind quickly flashed to the possibility of getting out of here, but they were soon dashed when she walked away and out of my view. “Ah! Rotten luck Mister Bunny,” Miss Pink sympathized not long after when no one was around again. “I could have sworn she was going for you.” “Same here. Did you see the way she was looking at me? I’ve only seen that look from regressed individuals around here. Certainly not a Big!” “Actually, I saw the same thing with Mister Brown.” I remembered Mister Brown from a few months back. ‘Lucky toy.’ He was another toy bear who was popular last year for his huggable nature, and his brown form was displayed in the window closest to Miss Pink. From her vantage she could see more than I did on that side of the front displays. “Some curvy blonde did the same, staring at him for a good five minutes. Almost creepy, but then she went in, and Mr. Kincade later grabbed him and packaged him up for her.” It was big news that night when all of us toys had gotten together, as window toys were hardly ever purchased. Mr. Kincade, the store owner, had only moved us to ensure we were free of dust and still looked clean for potential window shoppers. We were there more to advertise than to be expressly claimed. That night, Miss Pink and I had started our competition. After months of waiting, we had an array of hope that we could be next. Now, it seemed like Mister Brown had only left because he was a bear. They were probably running low or something like that elsewhere, since they always seemed to be desired, and later cuddled, by Littles. I estimated that three of the seven Littles out there were seen carrying some type of bear in their arms around the mall. Less than half, but still impressive considering that almost every major animal, and even some mythological ones, could be purchased at most stores. Creak. Miss Pink and I suddenly posed very still. That sound only meant that Mr. Kincade had just opened the back of the window. That sound by him was only heard when we were being cleaned or when he was getting one of the models or other toys that were displayed in the cabinet alongside us. I dared not to, but my hopes were soon confirmed, as I felt his wrinkled and partially soft or calloused large hands envelop my torso and pull me from my display. It was sad to leave Miss Pink in a way, but I couldn’t help but let out the faintest of smiles as I was pulled alongside her. If I was right, I would be going home with someone today. ‘Goodbye, Miss Pink, and good luck.’ Like good toys, neither one of us moved, despite leaving each other possibly forever. “This one?” Mr. Kincade asked a figure to my rear and behind the countertop. His tone of surprise was easily discernable. “Yes. That one.” “We have others in the back that are fresh.” Mr. Kincade sat me on the counter and faced the rest of the store and the customer. It was the lady from before! “Just came off the li…” “No,” she held up her hand to stop Mr. Kincade. “Thank you, but I have my eye set on this fluffy guy. There’s just something about him…” Her baby blue eyes gazed longingly at me. “I understand completely.” Mr. Kincade adjusted me on the countertop to face the woman now directly, who was still staring at me with almost a wonderment in her eyes. I couldn’t help but wonder myself as to who she was buying me for, as she slid her ID card across the counter to Mr. Kincade for payment. “Is there anything else I can get you today, Miss… Hubert?” the man asked after scanning her ID chip for verification of payment method. “Hubert, actually. Like ‘Hugh-Bear.’ My family’s originally from Gaule.” “Oh, I see! Excellent. Very unique around here.” From the reflection of one of the display cabinets, I could see everything going on behind me still. Mr. Kincade pushed his round glasses up the bridge of his nose to focus on the readout in front of him. Mr. Kincade and his shop were both practically antiques in this fast-paced technology-oriented world, but both had a quality and heart that most people admired. The air smelling of fresh linen and sawdust, toys could be purchased at any one of a hundred different Little shops in the area, but most experienced or caring Bigs came here. Mr. Kincade lovingly created many of the toys now displayed on the shelves, his worn hands and black-rimmed glasses being a testament to the years of his life put into his profession. He always smiled and knew that any toy, even the ones like me that he had purchased from larger companies, were the best and any Little would likely enjoy us for decades. “I’m sure.” Her gaze only occasionally went to Mr. Kincade, but for the most part, was fixated on me. I personally congratulated myself for holding my pose for so long. Most toys like me could hold the same pose for a few minutes in the beginning but then might move a smidge when their owner looked away, even if for a second. No one ever noticed. Of course, if they had, who would they tell? Anyone talking to a stuffed animal or even believing they were alive was likely not a good combination. The machine beeped in front of Mr. Kincade, and he smiled gingerly, which caused his wrinkled exterior to be emphasized even more than usual. “Anything else I can get for you, Miss Hubert? I have some lovely alternative implements in the back.” ‘Damn you, Mr. Kincade.’ I knew the things in the back. Everyone here did. They scared the absolute stuffing out of most normal toys. “Alternative implements?” ‘Good. She doesn’t know. Maybe she’s a half decent Big.’ “Oh yes. If you’re getting Mister Bunny, here,” Mr. Kincade patted me on the shoulder, “I’ll assume you have a Little… and maybe a Little who’s… how can I put this?” Mr. Kincade stroked a few errant whiskers under his nubby chin. “Ah, yes. A Little who’s not so Little. Up here.” Mr. Kincade pointed to a spot at his temple where his gray and white hair was greatly receding. ‘Ever being the salesman. Can’t blame a guy for making a living, but… ugh.’ “Oh…” Miss Hubert looked stunned for a moment before resuming her previous graceful demeanor. ‘Another good sign.’ “I see what you mean. Well, I’m actually getting Mister Bunny here for my Little, because I’m looking for something… a little less. I want someone to love. Frankly, and I beg your pardon, but if I wanted a lifeless doll, Proctor has a whole new line of lifelike dolls.” “I understand ma’am.” Mr. Kincade took a step back. ‘Yay, Monica. You have passed a test most Bigs would fail outright.’ “Mister Bunny is perfect for middle of the road applications these days. I’m sure your Little will love him in no time at all. Never had one returned from his line.” “That’s some hefty praise for a bunny, but I’m sure you’re right. Charles has been so down lately. I think he needs a friend and Mister Bunny here seems just perfect.” ‘Charles. An odd name for a Little, but I like it. I just hope Charles and I can be friends one day.’ “Yes, ma’am. Designed that way too, but I’m sure you knew that.” Mr. Kincade relaxed his posture and started grabbing a bag from underneath the counter. Miss Hubert only smiled and nodded. Miss Hubert then quickly held up her hand as Mr. Kincade started to cover me up with a bit of wrapping paper. “Actually, can I get the display box alone instead? And the blue bow wrapping?” Mr. Kincade seemed puzzled but smiled and then started to get the box from the other side of the counter instead. “Thank you. I know it may be a little unusual, but my friend June came by here and did that for our friend Suzanne’s Little’s shower. Pink instead of course the tiny girl, but it just looked so perfect. I knew if I ever came here for my Little, I just had to have it for myself and them. Such a wonderful presentation as a gift.” “You’d be surprised how often we get this request, actually.” Mr. Kincade set the box down on the countertop and set me inside before closing up the lid. The plastic in front of me was thin and transparent, so I could still hear and see much of the world outside. “A lot of customers don’t know about the option, but a very classic design. Popular for just the right types of Bigs.” Mr. Kincade finished the look by wrapping a large ribbon around the box at the top. It was a bit informal for some, which is why Mr. Kincade didn’t offer it first naturally, but it made a nice wrapping as a present for a Little themselves, or a Big as a gift for their Little. Truth be told, I suspected the design remained as it was for the more physically challenged Littles. Popping a box and lid off were much easier tasks than the taught wrapping paper of most traditional gift giving, a near impossible task for any Little with altered mental, strength, or dexterous abilities. “Thank you so much, Mr. Kincade. I’m sure Charles will just love this.” Miss Hubert picked me up and cradled me under her arm. “I’m sure I’ll be back here once everything is settled down with him.” She then headed toward the door and turned back for a moment. “Have a good day!” “You too, Miss Hubert.” Mr. Kincade gave a little wave from behind the counter. “Stop by any time!” Miss Hubert gave a little wave back and exited the store, ringing the classic bell as she did so. As we walked away, I felt sad for leaving the only home I had every really known, but I knew my next one would give me a greater purpose than I ever had being stuck there. Soon, I would meet Charles and our life together would begin. I couldn’t believe how excited I was, and I hadn’t even met him yet! Moving on, a short walk later and Miss Hubert placed me in the front seat of her minivan. It seemed new from its cleanliness and there were no signs of the regression implements I had seen advertised so many times from the screen in the mall besides a car seat secured in the back mandated by law for all who were classified as Littles. ‘Please don’t change, Miss Hubert.’ Often, the commercials I saw from my perch in the window would be about items Bigs could purchase for their Littles. From seeing those, I knew this car lacked many of the typical items found in most cars in this world for Bigs who owned a Little. Miss Hubert was either very different or Charles was still very new. ‘Charles…’ With a name like that, I guessed all of this was still new for both of them. Still, a toy could hope that a Little would be treated nicely, new or not. The drive to Miss Hubert’s house was pleasantly short. Most communities were advertised as close by and convenient to ensure fussy Littles never had to stay in the car too long, or at least that’s what the add had claimed for some of the more recent development zones in the area. From the same company, I had seen many houses, and Miss Hubert's was very similar to most others on her street. A pale bluish-gray siding wrapped around a two-story house, complete with a garage, a porch, and a neat yard in the front. Miss Hubert had chosen a peaceful dark blue for the shutters and the front door, and though not as cheery as the sunflower yellow, meadow green, or even lovers red, it still showed off a pleasant décor. Miss Hubert retrieved me and quickly brought me inside, occasionally checking her watch, before setting me down on a large gray couch. The room was pleasant, neat, and spacious, and the house smelled like clean linen and lavender. Again, there was a lack of signs that a Little was living here currently, so while the car could be a personality difference, the inside of the home confirmed that Charles was still be in the early stages of being an adopted Little. After some shuffling and clanging in the kitchen, Miss Hubert came back to me, and to my surprise, after a moment of fiddling with the box from behind, she removed me from my confinement. “So… Mister Bunny. Ugh. Gonna have to change that name, but I didn’t buy you for me.” She stifled a laugh. “How silly would that be, right?” She stared at me for a half second, as if she expected a response back. “Anyway, I just need to say this out loud… I’m Monica,” she gave a little shake of my hand and then set me back in her lap, “and Charles is my Little, but he’s, well, he’s still… adjusting.” Monica seemed anxious talking about Charles. “It’s only been two weeks since I got him from one of the agencies.” ‘Aha! I knew it! She’s probably nervous of doing a bad job with him.’ She took a sip from a mug I just noticed she had brought in with her and then set it back down on the table near the armrest of the couch on a strategically placed coaster. “The agency and apparent middleman specialize in non-regressed Littles. I wanted him to accept this role and not be forced into it, but he’s so… resistant. I almost want to change my mind about regressing him the way I want at all.” She looked guilty and took another sip from her mug. “He’s a Little. I know that… but I’ve seen most Littles these days. If there’s anything going on upstairs, in the head I mean, it would be news to me. They seem so… broken. Particularly the ones from more than ten years ago.” Monica looked sad for a moment but straightened herself out and continued. “I didn’t want that for Charles. A lot of us mommies don’t now actually. Well…” she seemed to think for a moment, “…here at least. Don’t get me wrong, I want a true Little, but not infant level… maybe toddler?” She didn’t seem to know, but that was okay by me. With my programming, I just needed a range at this point. ‘I’m glad I’m with Monica. She just wants to be a mommy. No sadist, no butcher. Just ‘mommy.’ Perfect.’ “That’s where you come in. Charles has been pushing back against everything, so I need a little… push.” I figured as much. That was what I was designed for anyway. Nothing bad or permanent, but just little pushes to ease a Little into their deemed proper place in this society. I didn’t like it, but that was my job. My primary purpose at this stage. To truly defy it would be unwise in the current Big climate, even here. “Now, he’ll be home any minute. He’s at a playdate right now, but remember, nothing too extre…” Ding! Dong! The doorbell echoed throughout the house, and a panicked Monica looked quickly at the door. Charles was early, but I couldn’t wait to meet my new best friend.

Chapter 23: Littles -Victoria- Infernum Infantem – LittleFallenPrincess Beatrice and I just watched in awe at the speed this girl was shoving down burgers. We had gathered in the kitchen again, our favourite place to spend time together. Nia had managed to dress herself in her usual hoodie, jeans, and a strappy top… All of which was black. I swear that’s the only colour that girl wears. Beatrice was wearing her normal clothes, which consisted of a leather jacket, a red turtleneck sweater, and some skinny jeans. Very much something I’d normally wear. I had to do a double take that she hadn’t taken my clothes… but no, they were hers, we just have a very similar fashion sense. I, on the other hand, wore my purple v-neck sweater and some black leggings. I didn’t see the point in dressing up today… I wasn’t even sure Nia would come out at all today, but hey… she did. Beatrice had put a pile of burgers in the centre of the table and told us to help ourselves. I’m glad she thought to buy more than 3, because Nia was clearly starving, and she had a massive appetite. I was barely half way through my first one, and she had already eaten FIVE in that time! She didn’t even stop to have a drink to wash it all down! “That’s demons for you… ravenous little things…” Beatrice laughed, kicking back on her chair, watching the little demon devour her meal. Nia just looked at her and scowled. “So how was your time with your sister?” I asked Bea, putting down my burger on the plate. The sight of Nia shoving burger after burger into her mouth may have put me off eating a bit. “It was good, thanks. Helped her with a thing, and we chatted a lot. It was nice to spend some time with her, it’s been too long.” Beatrice replied, smiling and nibbling at her burger. “What does she do? You never told me much about her.” I asked, desperate to know more about this mysterious sister. “She… runs a nightclub.” “Oh really? Is it one I’ve heard of? I must admit though, I haven’t been out drinking for… decades. I wouldn’t know what’s open now.” I laughed. “You won’t have heard about it.” She snapped back quickly. “Oh? Is it new?” “Not really. Been around a long time. Just… it’s a bit… selective in its clientele.” She seemed like she really didn’t want to talk more about it, so I decided to back off a bit. “Oh okay then. Well I’m glad you enjoyed yourself. If you ever need time off to spend time with your sister, you know I can manage a few days without you now and again.” “I know, thanks Vic. Anyway… how was the other night? You two have been… awkwardly silent about it this whole time…” Bea asked, raising her eyebrow at us. Nia looked at me before looking at Beatrice. She then got to her feet, shoved the last mouthful of burger into her mouth and walked over to me, bending down behind me, placing her hands on my shoulders and whispering something in my ear. “That’s my cue to leave. You can tell her if you want… maybe she can help. But I am not staying around for this conversation.” “It’s okay sweetie, you go play your game for a bit.” I gently touched her hand. “And remember, this is just to see if she can help. You can trust me. And Bea.” She nodded and smiled awkwardly, her face even more red than her usual shade. She was clearly blushing again. “You off?” Beatrice asked. “Vic needs to talk to you. Be back later!” Nia replied, rushing off out of the kitchen, leaving Beatrice and I alone again. “Well that wasn’t awkward at all…” Beatrice said, rolling her eyes and sitting up straight, bending forward like she was desperate to know more. “So… what happened that night? You never told me. You just said in your texts that she managed to feed, you nearly got caught… and that’s it. What happened?” “Well the restaurant was closed when we got there. So we got some food and ate it in the car.” I replied. “So romantic…” She replied, laughing. “Yeah yeah, shut up. It would have been, wasn’t my fault they had to shut down for the week. But hey, Nia seemed to really enjoy it. I think she honestly enjoyed it more than if we had gone to the restaurant.” “Well that’s good. What happened after?” “We went to the hotel. Things got… intimate…” “And…” She cupped her chin in her palms, her elbows that were resting on the table supporting it. “And… she focused on me so much she didn’t get time to feed much.” “For a demon, she’s awfully considerate…” Bea commented, surprised. “I know, right? Well anyway, she sensed a demon. The device picked up on her power spike.” “But how did it go off if she didn’t feed?” “She didn’t feed enough… She still spiked with power though. Hence the demon.” “Well the device works! Now we can figure out how to stop the spike, or find a way to drain the power quickly so they can’t sense her.” “I… think I already found a way…” I mumbled awkwardly. “Huh? You did? Is that how you escaped?” “Yeah…” “How?” “I… umm… cuddled her.” “You cuddled her? Well duh, girls like that… but wait… so you didn’t cuddle her after the first time you two… you know…?” She asked. “Of course I did! But this time… it was different.” “How so?” “She was having a panic attack. Worried she was going to get caught. You should have seen the poor girl. I wanted to wrap her up and protect her.” “Of course you did…” She laughed in that way you do when someone does something cute. “What does that mean?” I asked. “Nothing… carry on.” “Anyway, I did exactly that. I cradled her in my arms and held her close to my chest. I reassured her and stroked her hair. I called her baby and she… she…” “She what, Vic?” I looked up to see Bea was on the edge of her seat suddenly, she was clearly desperate to know what happened. “She stuck her thumb in her mouth again.” “She did?” Beatrice’s face lit up, shocked at this revelation for some reason. “And she didn’t freak out?” “No… if anything… she calmed down.” “How did the power spike disappear then?” “She fed from me. Whilst we were cuddling. It was… weird. Like I could feel the life drain from me. But it didn’t feel so direct and… turbulent. It felt… almost gentle.” “Really…?” Bea looked fascinated by all this. She clearly knew something… “I didn’t think succubi could feed from anything other than sex?” I asked her. “I mean… it’s unheard of… but she is no normal demon, is she?” “What do you mean?” “Most demons who come to Earth want to cause chaos or carnage. She… wants to play video games and snuggle with her girlfriend. She’s not exactly a typical demon.” “I guess…” “Now… what did you say to her?” “I told her I’d protect her. I’d look after her. I used the cute names I usually call her.” “Like what?” “Poppet, sweetie, sweetpea… baby…” “B… Baby? Really?” Bea asked, even more surprised than before. “Yeah… in fact it was after calling her that which caused her to put her thumb in her mouth.” “That makes sense…” She looked deep in thought at this point and it was driving me insane. What on Earth did she know? “What makes sense?” I asked. “Nia. She’s a little.” “A little what? Wait… you used that term before. What does it mean?” Beatrice sighed before sitting up straight and taking a deep breath. “It’s… someone who likes to act like someone younger.” She explained. “Wait… people do that?” “Have you never heard of adult babies before?” “N… no… wait, didn’t they have a documentary or something on them?” “Yeah, not the best depiction. Very biassed against littles. Made them look creepy and weird, when in reality… they’re not.” “Oh. So these littles… they act like children?” “Sometimes. Usually younger though.” “So that’s why you wanted me to act more maternal around her. To act on my impulses…” “You’re already a very maternal person, Vic. At least around certain people. I’ve noticed that in the years I’ve worked for you. When I first met you, I swore you were a Mummy.” “A Mummy?” “Yeah… you know… Mummy… Daddy… caregivers… Someone that looks after and has a power dynamic with a little.” “Power dynamic? Wait… so you think Nia wants me to be her… Mummy?” “If she doesn’t already, she will do… when she realises what she is.” “So she doesn’t even know she’s a… what did you call them… little?” “Probably not. Sheltered little thing didn’t get out of Hell much. So she probably doesn’t know about a lot of things. But trust me… I knew from the moment I met her… she’s a little.” “You’re sure?” “I’d say 80/20 I’m sure.” “How do you know? Are… you a… Mummy?” I asked, awkwardly. “Hahaha… No. Not exactly. I’m into the kink scene, but littles… aren’t generally my thing.” “I knew you were kinkier than you led me to believe. So you… do all the whips and chains and stuff?” I grinned at her, surprised to finally find out her secret after all these years. “Sometimes. Not always.” She grinned back, showing no signs of being ashamed of her… sexual interests. “What do you do then?” I asked. “Vic… if you really want to have that conversation… If you really want to open your eyes to the world of kink, I will gladly introduce you. But for now, let’s focus on Nia, shall we?” I couldn’t help but wonder what she was into and how she knew about all this… but that would have to wait for another time. She was right… I needed to focus on Nia. “So she’s a… little? And she acts younger than she is? And you said it’s part of the ‘kink scene’? Is it sexual?” I asked. “She’s a little brat, is what she is. But yes, she’s also a sweet, considerate little angel when you put her in her place. She probably doesn’t know it yet, but she’s just wanting to regress. And the other night when you cuddled her… you made her feel smaller than ever… safer than ever… and that’s when she was able to feed. How she can feed through an emotional bond like that… I don’t know. Maybe all succubi are capable of it? But being demons… they just can’t bond with someone that way. But with Nia… it’s different. She’s so smitten with you… she can open up and gently feed. You said the spike disappeared?” “Yeah… she fed but there was no power coming off of her.” “It’s not as turbulent or forceful as the main way succubi feed. So it probably means she feeds from you in a much more… efficient manner. Meaning the power coming off her won’t be traceable. At least… that’s the first thing that I can think of anyway. This is all unknown territory, Vic. This isn’t normal, even for demons.” “So if I can… regress her… into a state like the one she was in the other night… she could feed without setting off alarm bells in Hell?” I asked, feeling hopeful about it all. “I’d assume so, yes. We’d have to test this theory, like we tested the other. But yes… Maybe this is the answer we were looking for!” “But… I tried.” I sighed. “You did?” “Well… kinda… I… umm… spanked her. Just before you got back.” “You did? Vic… I’m surprised… didn’t realise we had a full-on domme in the house…” She grinned at me, crossing her arms, looking smug. “Shut up! Anyway… I took what you said the other day to heart, and I spoke down to her like she was a child. It worked… kind of. It got her to get out of that mess of a room, and got her speaking to me again. And she cuddled up with me and she looked like she did the other night… but she didn’t feed from me.” “Was she hungry?” “Apparently so. I asked her and she said she was… but she still couldn’t feed from me.” Beatrice went silent for a moment, clearly sorting some thoughts out in her head, before coming back to me. “How old did you treat her?” She asked. “How old? I didn’t… does that matter?” I replied, confused. “It sounds like you treated her like a kid. Whereas the other day you treated her like a baby.” “A… baby…?” “Yeah. She needs to regress to her little age.” “Little age?” “Are you going to keep repeating what I’m saying?” Her eyebrow raised up. “Oh… sorry… This is all just so new to me. It’s a bit… weird…” “No, a woman with an amulet who can extend her lifespan who summoned a demon who fell in love with her, who is also best friends with a Witch who is her housemaid… that’s weird. Littles… they’re harmless. They’re not my thing mostly, but I have to admit… they’re adorable.” “How do you know?” “I’ve babysat a lot in my time. It’s what you get when your sister is a Mummy.” She giggled. “Wait… your sister? The woman we met the other day? She’s…” “Yeah. She has a little. In fact that’s why I’ve been gone the past few days. I had to babysit her little whilst she was busy with something.” “How did you both find out that you were into… kink?” I asked. “Cursed game of spin the bottle when we were drunk in our early twenties with some friends of ours.” “Cursed?” “The bottle was cursed. She put a spell on it so you had to tell the truth. We both lost, and both of us revealed we were into some kinky stuff. Thankfully, as we’re both into different things and in very different kink circles… it means that the fact we’re sisters doesn’t bother us.” “But you babysit her little…?” I asked, confused. “Being little is mostly non-sexual. And that’s the side I get whenever I visit. Plus they both keep their kinkier stuff away from me, and I keep my stuff away from them. I just treat her little like I would any other little.” “So are you a… dominant or a submissive?” I asked, using what little knowledge I had of the subject. “Both. I’m a damn good babysitter. But I play a bit more submissive when I’m at clubs.” Bea shrugged her shoulders. “There are clubs?” “Oh Vic… I’ve got a lot to teach you… anyway, back to Nia. We’re steering away again.” “Yes. Nia. So… umm…” I was too nervous to ask. “Go on… spit it out…” “You said… younger? So I have to regress her further back in order for me to have a chance at feeding her emotionally?” “That’s my best guess, yeah. But again, this is just me flinging ideas out. I may be completely wrong. But hey, it’s worth a try. At the very least… your bond with her will grow, and she’ll unlock a side to her she never realised existed.” “And she’s okay with that…?” I asked. “She’ll love you more for it.” “So when you say younger… you mean?” “Maybe start at toddler age? Then move down…” She suggested. “Does that mean… umm… you know…” “Nappies?” “...Yes.” It was as if she had read my mind. “Probably.” She answered. “Wait… have you ever had to…” “Plenty. Changed a good amount these past few days actually.” Again with the mind reading. I know she’s a Witch but still… “And you… enjoy it?” “God no! Not my thing. For some it is, and hey, no shaming that. But not for me. No, I was doing it to make her little feel little and happy. It was just a job for me.” “Does that little of hers just… wet… or does she… you know…?” I asked, awkwardly. “Oh both. It is not pleasant. But hey, she’s adorable, and it’s a joy to take care of her. Maybe I could introduce you and those two properly… Beth did say it was okay to tell you about them after all…” “That… would be nice.” “Well they’re out of town for a week now. Both of them. But why don’t you start treating Nia like she’s… six? And if that doesn’t work… we work our way down until she’s crinkling everywhere.” “Where do we even get stuff like that for her?” I asked. Like… were there websites that cater to… ‘littles’? “I can get that stuff, don’t you worry. You just focus on making her feel little and loved, okay?” “I… I’ll try.” “Right, well I better go get that stuff, just in case. Mind if I take the car?” Bea asked. “Go for it.” “Good luck with her. Remember… treat her like she’s only little. Lots of love, but be stern if you need to. See if she feeds. I’ll be back in a few hours.” “Okay… seeya.” Beatrice got up and walked out of the kitchen, grabbing the keys to my favourite car from the side on her way out. And as I sat there, in complete silence, I thought to myself… ‘What the hell have I got myself into?’ ========================================================= Oh! Are we finally getting to the babying? ? This is definitely my slowest burn of all my stories. I hope you're enjoyed it so far, it'll only speed up from here! 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!

"Willy, now that we're done cleaning, how about you take Evelyn out for the day, you can use our car." Said Aunt Kathy. She handed me the keys to her Ford Fusion, not a cool car but then it isn't something even less out of style. I though. "Thank you! I said as did Evelyn. We both showered and changed our clothes to something more appropriate for a date and not cleaning. As I was in changing my clothes, Aunt Kathy came in. "Willy, I, a, think it would be better if you were both diapered for your date. Evelyn is already in her diapers. I know you won't touch her until she is older, but I'm not sure I trust her with you. She thinks you are just perfect!" I knew from her tone of voice, that she wasn't really asking me but telling me. She got into my diaper drawer as I was calling it now. She oiled and powdered me up, then put my diapers on, she slid the plastic pants up and then I heard a distinct "click." "What the heck was that Aunt Kathy?" "That's the locking mechanism, John Jr. used to take his off so we got locking plastic panties for him. Don't worry, Evelyn has the same type that you have just as clear as your panties." I was lucky that my Jean's fit over my diaper, just verily! I met Evelyn in the hall she was in a dress it was just an inch or two above her knees. I had to admit her legs were shapely and she was hot! "Wow! I said, you're beautiful!" "Glad you finally noticed!" She said with a smile. I took her to the car and being the gentleman I am I opened the door for her. Getting in her dress rode up and I saw that Aunt Kathy was right. Evelyn was diapered just like I was. After getting in I asked "Where the best place in town to get good food?" "Well, that all depends on how much you want to spend. There is Gerards, it's like $150 a plate! She said. Then there is Applebee's, Red Lobster, and loads of McDonalds, KFC, Taco Bells." "Red Lobster, where is it at?" I asked? "It's the closest one, about 2 to 3 blocks away. She said Turn left here. She said. Right on the next corner. We were there. We went in and it wasn't very busy yet and were were in and out, still cost about $90. We went another block or two and we were at the theater, this was in the opposite direction of the college. We went in and she told me the movie she wanted to watch. We got our popcorn, drinks and found our seats. The movie hadn't started when two other girls came. "Is this your boyfriend that you told us about Evelyn?" One of the girls asked? "Yes Yolanda, yes Heather, this is Willy Sanders, we have been friends since I can remember!" I thought they would move to another seat or two a ways away but they stayed. We sat there and soon the lights dimmed and the previews started they also had little trivia, some of it was just to easy like, "The line, Play it again Sam! came from which movie. "Casablanca!" I said. Twenty seconds later "Casablanca!" came up. They had another preview. Another trivia game came up. This time I didn't know it. I looked and all three girls were looking at me. The answer came up and it was some movie I was not familiar with it was Papillion or something like that. Then the movie started, I was surprised Evelyn gave me her hand to hold in the dark. After the movie was going and she looked at he friends and they were engrossed in the movie. She moved her hand down and laid her hand and felt my diaper through my Levi's. The smile on her face said it all!

https://www.dailydiapers.com/content/stories/2018/073.html This is one that I wrote a few years ago. Let me know what you think. Thanks

Nice. I enjoy keeping them on when they are nice and full as well. Love the load shifty feel of the diaper if you know what i mean. Each step feels shifty. Each bent over movement shifts the load into an entirely different place. ?

Stockholm Syndrome Baby Chapter 1 My name is Kevin Lorey. I am 15 years old and I live in Beaumont, North Dakota. I am writing this journal because my therapist, Dr. Kline, has asked me to. She says that if I write down my feelings about what happened to me, perhaps I can come to terms with it. I hope she's right, I don't want to feel the way I do but, I can't help it anymore and I'm deathly afraid that someone outside my family will discover my secret. I don't know if I could survive if that happened. Ok, let's get this started. It was a cool day in October, about 5 years ago when it all began. I was walking home from school. I wasn't too far from my house, near my friend Gerald's place when, I spied a minivan that I didn't recognize. It was parked on the curb in front of Gerald's house and had out of state plates. I knew that Gerald had family out of state but, I didn't know where they lived. The windows were tinted so I couldn't see inside. Nothing would have happened if I hadn't stopped. No! I can't think like that. Dr. Kline says it's not my fault. I was just being a curious 10 year old. I didn't do anything to provoke a response but, a response is definitely what I got. I walked across the burm to get a better look at the minivan but, the windows were way too tinted for me to even get a glimpse of what was inside. If I had seen the crazy woman in there, I would have run like a demon was on my heels. When I couldn’t see inside, I turned to continue walking home. I heard the door to the minivan open suddenly and felt a hand covered my mouth and nose. I struggled with everything I could, trying to get away from whoever was holding my face. Another hand grabbed the back of my shirt and began dragging me into the minivan. In a panic, I swung my arm behind me and hit the door jam. I heard a sickening crack and intense pain shot up through my arm, all the way to my shoulder. That was the last thing I heard or felt. The world went dark just after that, she used chloroform on me, that’s what the police said. When I came to, I was sitting in an awkward position. My arm that I’d hit on the door jam still hurt like crazy but, when I tried to talk, I found that I was gagged. I tried to move around and found that I was bound as well. I was sitting in a raised seat, like the ones that toddler’s are put into for car trips. My injured arm lay useless at my side and my other arm was bound by the seat’s straps. Realizing that I had just been kidnapped, I looked around. I was in an enclosed area of a minivan, a wall of some kind separated the back seats from the driver area. The scenery outside was a constant blur of woods and fields, none of it looked familiar. I was scared. I’d heard of kids being taken and made to do “bad things” with adults. They had told us at school about the “dangerous stranger” and I was always very careful around adults that I didn’t know. The van drove for several hours without stopping. I was still groggy from the chloroform so I drifted in and out of consciousness. Finally, when the car stopped, I heard a door opening somewhere and began trying to shout for help but, the gag in my mouth made that impossible. A gentle hand ran over my head and a woman bent down to face me. She was in her mid to late 40’s, blonde and in fairly good shape for her age. She smiled at me and began to manipulate the seat I was in. The seat straightened out and stretched until I was lying on my back, my injured arm dangling at me side. The woman unbuckled the lower straps on the seat, freeing my legs. I started kicking and thrashing. She stood up and began smiling even wider. “I’ll just wait till you tire yourself out, then we can get you ready for the rest of the trip home.” she said I glared up at her and stopped kicking, waiting until she got close enough to kick. She seemed to know what I was thinking. She pulled a little black bag, the kind doctors used to use for house calls, from behind her and searched around in it for a moment. When her hand came out, it had a syringe and small drug bottle in it. That made me start thrashing again. I’ve always hated needles and I didn’t want to be anywhere near her right at that moment. Pain from my injured arm shot up into my shoulder and I held back the urge to cry. She uncovered the needle and stuck it into the top of the drug bottle then, set the syringe aside. As I thrashed, she grabbed one of my legs and held it tightly in one hand. I barely felt the pain from my arm as the fear of what she was going to do filled me. She pulled something down from the ceiling of the van and secured my leg in it. It looked like the handle for a giant pair of scissors. Once my leg was stuck in the hole, she grabbed my other leg and secured it as well. She retrieved the needle and I tried to thrash but with my legs in the scissor handles and my body in the seat but, I couldn’t do much. She walked around so she was behind my legs and I felt a pin prick in the small of my back. She walked back around to my side and sat down on a stool. Soon, my legs began to go numb, I couldn’t feel anything at all below the waist, couldn’t move and, the pressure in my bladder was building rapidly. She saw the distress in my eyes and knew that the drug had taken affect. She released my legs from the restraints, not that I could do much about it. She pulled a small length of narrow plastic tubing from her doctor bag. The tubing was in a sterile case and the second I saw it, I knew I wasn‘t going to like what she had planned for me, even if I wasn‘t sure of what it was. She began by removing my shoes and socks, then my pants and underwear. I must have blushed like ten thousand shades of red and I almost began crying from embarrassment. What I didn’t know was, the worst was yet to come. She took some sort of jelly from the bag and began lubing up the tube. She grabbed my penis and started shoving the tube up it. I was terrified and tried to thrash my legs around but they were still unresponsive. When she had the tube fully inside my penis, she walked back to the driver’s compartment, leaving me there, naked and scared. It was then that I noticed a small string dangling from the end of where she had put the tube. I didn’t understand what was going on but, I definitely did not like it. The woman came back a moment later, carrying a brightly colored bag. It had little teddy bears and pastel blocks on it. I could see a baby bottle sticking out of a pocket on it and realized what it was, A BABY’S DIAPER BAG! She opened it and pulled a fairly large diaper out. It looked exactly like a baby’s diaper, except it was about five times bigger. She opened it up then lifted my useless legs up and slid it under me. I couldn’t feel the padding or, I might have tried to thrash again. She grabbed more of that jelly stuff and wiped it all over my butt and crotch. By this time my embarrassment was so bad that I actually started crying. She stopped what she was doing and began rubbing my chest and stomach with her hand, cooing gently, just like you would to calm a cranky baby. That didn’t help my mood so, she went back to diapering me. The powder was next then, she pulled the string at the end of my penis to the side as the diaper came up over my crotch. She fastened the tapes and then pulled the string out from the end of the tube. I immediately felt a lessening in pressure and watched the diaper grow yellow. I was almost bawling my head off at this point. She reached up and began fiddling with the end of my gag. “Oh My God!” I thought when I realized that the thing in my mouth wasn’t a gag, IT WAS A PACIFIER! She was going to treat me like a baby and, the tube in my penis was going to make sure I couldn’t stop myself from wetting my diaper. When the realization of the what was happening dawned on me, I wiggled and thrashed around, trying to free myself, but it was no use. She had me strapped tight in the child seat. She finished messing with the end of my pacifier and reached into the diaper bag. She pulled a baby bottle from it and unscrewed the top. She held my head still with one hand and pushed the bottle onto the end of the pacifier, then screwed it together. I heard a swish of a vacuum being released and liquid began flowing into my mouth. As my mouth filled, I was forced to swallow, which pulled more liquid from the nipple. Soon my mouth was full of liquid again and I was forced to swallow, pulling more liquid into my mouth. The cycle went on for several minutes until the bottle was empty. She removed it and put another one in it’s place, then walked back to the driver’s compartment. The van stared up and we were moving again. My destiny at that point looked pretty grim and I cried as I was forced to finish the second baby bottle. There must have been something in them to knock me out because I fell asleep not long after the second bottle was done. Chapter 2 Slowly, the world began to seep into the dreamless sleep that I had been forced to endure. Sounds were first, birds and the whistle of a train. My nerves began to slowly come to life as I felt myself being lifted up, out of the car seat. I kept my eyes closed, for fear the sunlight would blind me but, that was unnecessary. As I was carried, there was no glare of sunlight through the protective surface of my eyelids. One at a time, I forced my eyes open. Only a sliver at first so, as not to alert my captor. The sun was setting behind me. The fading light illuminated the van from which I had been pulled and a long dusty drive, leading up to a deserted looking country road. I was laying with my head on my kidnapper’s shoulder so, I couldn’t see where we were going, only where we had just been. I took in every detail I could so I could remember it when questioned by the police. It was so hard to just lie there, limp in her arms but, my strength had not returned and, I knew I had no chance of escaping at that moment. I felt her walk up some steps and stop. There was the sound of a lock being undone and then two doors being opened. She carried me into a house and up to the second floor. I heard the noise as she dropped the keys onto a table. She shifted me to the front and I quickly closed my eyes. I felt myself being lowered into a padded table and straps were pulled over me, to hold me down. She walked off and I opened my eyes. I was in some kind of nursery. The room was huge, the theme was an earthy brown and the furniture looked somewhat expensive. I could hear her doing something in a nearby room so, I took stock of how much of my body was mine to control again. Sensation was slowly beginning to come back to my legs and waist. With that sensation, I could definitely feel the diaper that encased my hips. To my utter disgust, I felt as if I was sitting in a thick mud. “Oh My God! I shit myself” I thought The feeling was more than just disgusting, it was disturbing as well. Whatever drugs she had given me had worked their particular magic very well. My thoughts were confirmed as the cold wet feeling around my crotch suddenly warmed. I realized that I now had the bladder and bowel control of a small infant. Before I could do anything else, I heard her walking back towards me. I closed my eyes and relaxed on the table. I felt her breath on my face as she bent down in front of me. She gently ran her fingers through my hair and I heard her sniff then, giggle. “So far, so good.” she whispered I felt her un-strap my right arm. She pulled my arm our straight from my shoulder and lay it on what felt like Styrofoam. She then began pressing my hand into the foam, starting at my fingers, and ending with my elbows. I could hear the foam crunch as my arm was pressed into it. My curiosity was driving me mad so I opened my eyes, just a sliver. She had several boxes filled with blue Styrofoam. She flipped the other side of the box on my arm over, closing it around my arm, then began to strap it down. As she worked, I noticed that my arm didn’t hurt anymore, in fact, I couldn’t feel anything from it. She walked around the table and did the same to my other arm and both my legs, up to the knee. I couldn’t figure out what she was doing but, that would become apparent fairly soon. She left me like that, lying there in a dirty diaper, spread eagle with my limbs enclosed in the foam filled boxes, for the better part of an hour. When she came back in, she had the diaper bag I had seen in the van. I tried to remain still, hoping that I would have a chance to escape. Those hopes were dashed when she bent down to my ear and whispered to me. “I know you’re awake baby, the anesthetic I gave you should have worn off by now.” I opened my eyes and glared at her hatefully. “Aww, don’t be like that sweetie, mommy would never hurt her baby boy and that’s what you are, my baby boy. I watched you for a long time. You’re just the right size, weight, and temperament. I’ve seen the way the other kids treat you. You don’t fight back too fiercely when they tease you about your bed wetting.” My eyes went wide with surprise when she mentioned my sleep wetting problem. “ Oh yes.” she said “I know all about how my baby wets his bed every night. I also know how you still sleep with a little teddy bear. Oh it’s so cute!” She seemed so excited She walked around the table, removing my arms and legs from the foam filled boxes, then strapped them back to the table, one at a time. She set the boxes aside and moved to un-strap my legs and set them into a device just like the one she had used in the van. She then began to un-tape the diaper and pull it off my crotch. She cranked a lever on the scissor hands and they began to raise up, taking my legs with them. Soon, my butt was off the ground and she was cleaning me off with baby wipes. Once it was done, she removed the dirty diaper and wipes, dropping them into a diaper genie. She pulled another diaper and a bottle of baby oil from the bag and set them on the table. As I lay there, naked, she poured some baby oil into her hands and began rubbing it all over my body, slowly, massaging it into my skin. By the time she was done, I smelled like a baby’s nursery. After the diaper was put underneath me, my crotch and butt were powdered. She cleaned off her hands and pulled the diaper up, covering my crotch then, taped it shut. She patted my bottom as she bent down and cooed into my ear. “There we go, all clean and dry. Now my baby smells like he should too.” Tears of embarrassment rolled down my face as she continued to pat my diapered butt. She took my legs out of the device and strapped them back to the table. She then gathered up the foam boxes and left the room. A couple of minutes later, she came back in with a weird looking helmet and a baby bottle. I thrashed my head, side to side but, it wasn’t hard for her to put the helmet on me. The helmet encompassed my entire head, closing me off from any sight or sound outside it. I could feel the helmet being secured into place against the table, preventing me from moving my head, and the bottle being attached to the back of the pacifier. At first there was no sight or sound, only the rhythmic suckling of the nipple in my mouth. I couldn’t tell how much time passed when suddenly, a video screen in the helmet turned on and the speakers near my ears came to life. On the screen was a mother taking care of her baby. While the mother/baby scene played out on the video screen, the quiet sounds of a waves, crashing upon the shore played on the speakers. The scene played out a day of mother and baby activity, including watching the toddler as it wet and messed itself. On a regular basis, the bottle was removed from the pacifier and replaced with another one. I felt something soft and warm being laid over me, covering me from neck to feet. I don’t know how many repetitions of the mommy/baby scene I watched before I fell asleep. Chapter 3 While I slept, my mind was filled with the lost memories of my infancy. I remembered them in my dreams, just as if I was living them in the moment. Diaper changes, breast feedings, rides through the neighborhood in my stroller and, the endless pinched cheeks from my female relatives. It seemed like the dreams would never end, as if I was being forced to relive my life from birth till being toilet trained, over and over again. Suddenly I was jolted from my strange dreams by an icy feeling on my crotch. I tried to stir but, my arms remained strapped down and the helmet still resided upon my head. I felt a gentle wiping motion on my crotch and bottom then a light sensation, as if dust was falling there as well. The next thing I know, I feel my nether regions being encapsulated in another diaper and a gentle hand rubbing my stomach and diaper. The helmet blocked any words that might have accompanied the physical gesture but, the intent was clear. My captor was trying to calm me as you would to a small infant. After a few moments of this, my injured arm was released from the restraints and slipped into the sleeve of some garment. I waited for my hand to emerge from the end of the sleeve but, it didn’t. Instead, I felt it roll over a mass of spongy material and then something wrapped around my wrist. I squeezed my hand only to be rewarded with a sharp pain in my palm, as if I had grabbed onto a ball of needles. My arm was strapped down again and something was drug underneath my back. I pressed my back down, hoping to block the cloth. Again I was rewarded with the sensation of a sphere of razor sharp needles as it pressed into my back. I arched in pain and the cloth was pulled beneath me. Slowly but surely, my body was enclosed in this garment and my arms were restrained again. My legs were left unrestrained but, I couldn‘t understand why at the time. The answer came soon enough though. There was intense pain when I tried to stomp my feet and when I tried to close my hands so, I stopped struggling and waited. The helmet was removed from my head and my eyes tried to adjust to the light. I couldn’t focus my eyes and everything seemed blurred. I didn’t understand but, I knew she had done something to me that I couldn’t quite comprehend. I think she smiled at my non-comprehension but, it was hard to tell with my eyes so unfocused. She bent down over me and gently rubbed my stomach through the soft material that now encompassed my body. I looked at it for the first time and realized that I was dressed in a one piece, footed, sleeper. Anger flooded me and I tried to give my captor the “death stare” but, she only smiled and said, “Aww sweetie, don’t be like that. You’ll love being my baby, eventually. I’m going to take such good care of you that you’ll forget all about your former life and accept this one unconditionally.” I glared again and she giggled and rubbed my stomach again. “Now, you probably noticed that it hurts to use the bottoms of your feet or close your hand. I made this sleeper just for you, just so you would have to act like the baby you are. The hands have a foam ball in the palm. Inside that foam ball is a metal sphere with very sharp needles on it. If you try to close your hands, oh say, to make a fist, they’ll close over the sphere and push the needle sharp points into your hand. The feet have about the same thing on the bottom. The footpads of the sleeper have the same razor sharp needles pointing up from them. If you try to walk or kick anything, it will push the needles into your feet and cause you very intense pain. So, you can see, I expect you to behave just like an infant, let me take care of you and everything will be just fine. Fight me and you will experience pain like you’ve never felt before.” As I listened to my captor describe the bondage to which I was now subject, the idea sunk in. She expected me to act like an infant and let her take care of me. If I didn’t or fought against her domination of me, she would hurt me. It sounded to me like she was psychotic and a sadist. What hit me hardest was that she now had absolute control over all aspects of my existence. That was something that nobody had ever, to my recollection, had. It scared me and when she asked me if I understood, I just numbly nodded and went limp. She released the straps that held my arms and legs down and gently picked me up. I was draped over her shoulder and carried over to a rocking chair. She shifted my position in her arms so that I was lying in the crook of her arm. She sat down and began rocking back in forth. She pulled me close to her chest and began to hum a soft tune. I was so stunned by what had just happened that I didn’t even think to resist. Chapter 4 We sat like that for a while (I couldn’t tell how long because there wasn’t a clock in the “nursery”). I began to feel relaxed, no matter how much I didn’t want to. I was warm, the kind of cozy-warm you feel on cool Autumn night, sitting by a roaring fire. Even though I had just woken up, I felt the inclination to go back to sleep. My eyes began to droop and I began to lose consciousness. I felt something when my pacifier was being unscrewed and when the bottle was attached but, it wasn’t until the liquid began flowing into my mouth that I snapped out of my stupor. I glared up at my captor and was rewarded with a sharp smack on my cloth covered leg. “Now now baby.” she warned “Don’t look at mommy like that. Just relax and drink your bottle.” I clenched my fists reactively and pain shot up through my hand, to my arm, to my shoulder. The intensity was too much for me and I began crying, hiccupping. Seeing my distress, the woman laid a cloth diaper across her opposite shoulder and removed my pacifier. I gagged as I cried and choked on the liquid trying to force its way into my lungs. She rotated me and gently laid me over her shoulder. I felt a quick, rhythmic, series of hard pats on my back, causing the liquid to erupt from my nose and mouth. After my hacking and gagging stopped, she began rubbing my back and patting my diapered bottom. This caused me to realize I had another problem, I had to poop, and soon. The urge wasn’t as bad as it would have been in say an hour or so but, I did need to go. I tried to push myself off her shoulder and accidentally bumped my right hand against her chest, sending new pain up my already injured hand and causing me to void myself right there and then. As I cried in pain, I filled my diaper, her hand on it gave her clear signal as to what happened. She patted and rubbed my bottom, spreading the mess everywhere, smiling almost erotically. She shifted my position on again. Now she had me cradled on one arm with her other keeping steady pressure on my mess. “See, that’s what babies do. They make messies in their diddies for mommy and, this is what mommies do. She said as she carried me over to the changing table. “Mommy’s not going to change your diaper right away baby, you need to get used to the feel of a messy one so you don’t think about it when you make a poopie.” She strapped me to the table, replaced my pacifier and, left me to lay there in my own filth. I tried to make myself comfortable but, the feeling of the load under my butt was always at the forefront of my consciousness. It seemed like hours before she came back. By then, the mess had hardened a bit and was becoming very uncomfortable. I squirmed as she walked into the room. She just smiled and slowly walked over to the table. She took my nose in the knuckles of her first two fingers and gave it a gentle shake. “I think my baby has made a poopie. I better get you changed little boy.” she said, grinning widely She unsnapped the sleeper’s legs and began pulling it away from me. Once she had the two tapes undone, she unfastened one of my legs and fit it into the harness above the table then quickly did the other leg. I was again and still at her mercy. She raised the harness and pulled a large version of a baby wipe from a box sitting nearby. She had me clean of poop, oiled up and powdered in record time. The worst part of the experience was when she laid her head on my chest and began rubbing my stomach, telling me what a good baby I had been for making poopie for mommy. I very nearly died of embarrassment. She re-diapered and redressed me in the sleeper before taking me off the changing table. I was then placed in the feeding position again and a horrid thought went through my head. She had me in the same position that many young mothers used for breastfeeding! I definitely did not want that to happen and I was almost relieved when she pulled another baby bottle up and attached it to the back of my pacifier. I nursed for a while before drowsiness overcame me and I fell back to sleep in her arms. 　 Chapter 5 When I awoke, I found myself lying in a baby’s crib, un-strapped and unrestrained. Though the bars prevented me from rolling out of the crib, I didn’t think they would keep me from climbing out. It was only a few seconds later, as I tried to stand, that I was reminded of the needles under my feet, in the sleeper. Pain shot through my leg and I peed myself as I fell back into the crib. My mumbles of pain must have alerted my captor because she rushed into the room almost immediately. She began cooing at me and reached into the crib, to lift me out. I tried to backpedal but, I pushed my foot against the mattress and the pain shot through me again. When she realized why I was crying, She lifted me out of the crib and put me on the changing table. She strapped my legs into the scissor and began to gently tap the bottom of my feet, sending shockwaves of pain up my legs. “I guess you’re just to little to understand mommy when she told you to not try to stand. I guess I’ll have to help you remember.” She said as she began tapping my feet harder. The pain was excruciating and I almost blacked out several times but, each time I was close to oblivion, she would stop and give me just enough time to come back to my senses. Each time she would tap my feet, she would say, “Babies don’t walk. You are a baby. You can’t walk.” The torture went on for what seemed like forever. When she finally stopped, she bent close to my head “Babies can’t walk, can they?” She asked me. I shook my head quickly. “You are a baby, aren’t you?” She said, gently rubbing my stomach. I nodded, defeated. “You can’t walk, can you?” The smile on her face was terrifying. I shook my head again. “There there baby. Now that that’s settled, let’s change my BABY’S diaper.” As she said that, I realized that I had wet the diaper. I don’t remember if I woke up wet or if I wet it because of the pain but, I was wet. This change went just as the ones before had, lots of cooing and petting. I was in a clean diaper and she laid me back in the car seat she had used when she kidnapped me. I was strapped in and she went over to the changing table. From underneath, she pulled what looked like a giant syringe but, instead of a needle, it had a hose connected to a clear plastic hemisphere. I couldn’t understand for the life of me what it was or what new torture she would use it for. My horror was peaked when she sat down and unbuttoned her blouse, then her bra. I watched, dumbfounded as she used the devise to suction out her breast milk. I almost threw up right there, realizing that the bottles I had been drinking were her breast milk. I tried to throw myself to the side and crawl out of the room but, the car seat would not topple. She stopped what she was doing, the syringe about half full and looked over at me, struggling. “Aww, I know you’re hungry sweetie. Mommy will be just a minute.” she said I watched with growing horror as she finished draining her breast milk into the syringe and filled a bottle with it. She calmly walked over to me and set the bottle down next to me. I saw her reach behind the changing table and pull out the helmet that she had used to calm me earlier. She put it over my head and secured the bottle to my pacifier. The darkness of the helmet was broken when the “Mommy and Baby” scene lit up the screen in front of my eyes. I tried to reach up and get some kind of hold on the helmet but, the straps of the car seat prevented me from getting anywhere near it. Again, I don’t know how long the scene went on, her breast milk now filling my mouth with every movement of my head. I had to stop myself from throwing up (a very difficult thing to do given my situation). As the scene played on, the sounds filling my ears, I began to feel calmer and numbly suckled on the bottle till it was empty. The bottle was replaced with another and my stomach filled as I slowly began to drift off to sleep again, the sound of a mother nursing her infant, the only thing I could hear. Chapter 6 When I awoke again, the first thing I realized was that I was still wearing the helmet but, the “Mommy and Baby” scenes weren’t playing. I tried to roll around but found that I was still in the car seat that my captor had placed me in. I couldn’t tell what time it was or how long I had been asleep but something felt strange. I felt an urge to cry but, I didn’t know why (besides the realization of my indefinite captivity). I thought for a moment, trying to figure out what was wrong when the urge became overpowering and I began sobbing. The pacifier muffled the sound but, it must have been loud enough to attract “Her” attention. Only moments after I had begun bawling, I felt hands lifting me out of the seat and holding me against a warm body. My urge to cry vanished and I felt almost comfortable. My body relaxed against the person holding me as I felt a gentle hand rubbing my back and patting my padded bottom. I felt soothed, like I had never felt before. Suddenly, my stomach began growling. I felt the person holding me jiggle for a second then the back of my pacifier was removed and a baby bottle was attached. As I suckled the bottle, I was shocked. I didn’t feel revolted at the thought of nursing on the madwoman’s breast milk, in fact, it felt almost normal and, that terrified me. When the bottle was done, it was removed and she fiddled with the pacifier for longer than usual. I felt air rush into my mouth as I breathed through the pacifier. I didn’t know what she had done but I was going to give her a piece of my mind. I was about to say something when she repositioned me so, I was laying on her shoulder and, began patting my back. All my tension drained away when she laid me on her shoulder and my intended words died in my throat. My limbs went limp and I placed my head against her neck. I wanted to rail and scream against my captor but, my body had a mind of it’s own. My greatest shock was yet to come. As she patted my back, I felt a great distress in my bowels, then nothing, that was all I felt before I realized that I had just pooped my diaper with almost no hesitation. The realization of what had just happened shocked me into silence. A moment later, I felt myself belch with enthusiasm. I didn’t have to hear my captor’s voice to know that she was pleased with my body’s betrayal. I felt her hand gently rubbing and patting my full diaper. She sat me back in the car seat again and strapped me in. I felt her do something to the pacifier and I couldn’t breath through my mouth again. Finally, before leaving me to my torture, she turned on the helmet and the familiar “Mommy and Baby” scenes began playing again. “What fresh hell is this?” I thought to myself as consciousness began to leave me. Chapter 7 I came to when my stomach began to tell me it was empty. I thought about it for a second and then an overwhelming sadness hit me. I bawled my head off, not even realizing that the gag that had been my constant inhibitor was now loose. I couldn’t focus on anything but the rumblings of hunger. The screaming and crying alerted my captor and, she quickly ran to the nursery. She picked me up, out of the crib, laid me on her shoulder and, spoke to me in a soft, crooning voice. At first, I was comforted by her presence but then, my stomach growled again and my howling began, with renewed vigor. When I started crying again, she took me over to the changing table and laid me on, pulling the strap over my stomach. She unbuttoned my sleeper and checked my diaper, which was wet. Once I noticed that the diaper was wet and cold, my howling increased times two. I was uncomfortable and it seemed like torture. My butt and crotch were cold and wet and, my stomach was empty. These two things seemed like the worst possible feelings. In the back of my mind, I tried to reason, to remember that I wasn’t hurt and I was only in a wet diaper and a little hungry. Every time I tried to focus on that thought, the feeling of sadness flooded my mind and my other thought were overcome by it. It only took her a few moments to change me and re-insert me into my sleeper. To me however, it seemed like an eternity. My stomach was still growling and the sadness was still driving me to bawl my head off. Finally, she must have heard my stomach growl because she said something I couldn’t understand and carried me over to the rocking chair. She removed the loose pacifier and cradled me closer. A moment later, I felt a warm, soft bump in my mouth. I realized it was her breast and I tried to force myself to push my head away but, the urge to begin suckling was too strong. My mouth covered the nipple and I began to nurse with extreme vigor. As the breast milk began flowing down my throat, what was left of my true personality, gagged and wanted to scream, rage and, do whatever it took to stop my body. My body however, betrayed me and continued to nurse. After a bit, she switched me to the other breast and began rocking in the chair. The slow, steady, motion of the chair combined with the full feeling in my stomach calmed me. It was enough that my rational mind began to re-assert itself. I twisted and wrenched myself loose from the nipple, careful not to press my hands against anything. My captor lifted me up and put me on her shoulder. I knew what was coming but I my body betrayed me again and laid limp on her shoulder. I felt the pats on my back and the bubble forming in my stomach. Not long after, I let up a huge burp and a spit up some of the milk. She seemed happy but, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. The language sounded foreign but, I couldn’t tell what it might be. She carried me to a fenced in mat and laid me down on my back. She grabbed a nearby infant toy and positioned it over me. There were strings with glittery and colorful things hanging from them. She pushed and prodded the bangles, saying something. I watched her face and tried to understand what it was she was saying. As I watched her mouth, I saw what I thought were familiar words. I can’t read lips, but some words are easy to read; “Mommy”, “Baby”, “Toy”. A shock ran through me as I realized, she wasn’t using a foreign language. I found out later that the helmet that she’d been using, had been hypnotizing me. The effect was sinister and sly. The program soothed me into feeling like an infant, that’s why being on her shoulder had calmed me. It also scrambled my brain, making regular English sound like garbled, nonsense. The loss of understanding was so profound that I began weeping, not crying like a baby but, weeping like a beaten man. She watched me and seemed to understand. She got up and walked out of the room. Time seemed to stretch out as I lay there on the mat. She came back, carrying a piece of paper. On the paper was written a message: “I can see that my baby still has a bit of the little boy in there. That’s ok though, after a few more times in my special helmet, you won’t even be able to read this message. You shouldn’t try to fight. Just relax and let it happen. I want you to just be a happy baby. The effects of the helmet will be permanent but, I can teach you to speak and as you grow up, I’ll even potty train you. Won’t that be fun?” I tried to rail against my body’s betrayal and managed to swing my arm up but, she just caught it and used my hand to tap one of the swinging bangles. She threw the paper in the trash and began tickling me until I wet my diaper. She said something, I couldn’t tell what though. She got up and walked out of the room, leaving me to “entertain” myself with that damnable toy. I lay on the mat for what seemed like forever. Every now and again, my hand would reach up and bat at one of the bangles, no matter how much I tried to stop it. I pooped my diaper, another betrayal by my body. “Looks like that damn helmet made me incontinent too!” I thought to myself. I was uncomfortable again and I felt that sadness welling up again but I was also tired and, in the end, the tiredness won out and I fell to sleep with a wet and dirty diaper encasing my crotch. Chapter 8 I dreamt of laying in the crook of my mother’s (my real mother) arm as she nursed me and I felt at peace. It didn’t seem wrong because I was a baby but, I realized that it was just a dream when I looked up and my mother’s face stared back down at me. The reality of the dream was so real, so vivid that I didn’t want to leave it. I just wanted to be with my mom and have her take care of me. Reality wouldn’t let me have even that though as I woke up and my captor knelt over me. She spoke in gibberish and at first I was terrified that I was going crazy. I remembered that she had used the helmet on me and it had messed up my head somehow. I felt dirty as she removed the sleeper and carefully changed my diaper. Try as I might to fight the effect of the helmet, I couldn’t raise my hand to fight her off. She watched me the entire time and smiled when she was done. She took off the sleeper with the needles in it and put me into a regular sleeper. She lifted me off the ground and carried me into the kitchen. I saw a highchair and I thought, “Another step into my infantile life.” She inserted me into the chair and slid the tray into place. She walked behind me and I saw a bib fall in front of me and felt it being tied in the back. Horror had been replaced by simple disgust and hate at this point. Nothing this woman did to me scared me any longer. I had come to accept the inevitability of the situation and simply had to endure until I could find a way to escape. I allowed myself to be fed and focused my mind on getting the layout of the house down so I knew where I was going, even if I had to move in the dark. When she finished with the baby cereal, she cleaned me up and pulled me out of the highchair. She took me into the living room and laid me on her lap. I knew what was coming so I didn’t try to fight it. She turned on the television and positioned me to nurse, which my body did, in earnest. I closed my eyes and thought about anything that would let me forget I was suckling on a madwoman’s teat. Finally, the sensation stopped and I feigned sleep and she put me back into the crib upstairs. After she left the room, I tried to move in normal fashion, sitting up, forming words with my mouth but, without sound. I was only marginally successful but, it encouraged me. Time lost all meaning for me over the next few weeks, she applied the damned helmet again and my eyesight became severely unfocused. It got to the point that I could only discern color and shape, light and dark, all other details were gone. I could barely tell when it was day and night because she kept the light on in the nursery. I fought every effort of her to bond with me, kept my mind active by thinking about my school, my family, my friends and last but not least, REVENGE! One day, at least I think it was day, there was a loud noise downstairs. It woke me up and I began to cry. I saw lots of dark shapes in the nursery and couldn’t understand what was going on. I could hear the madwoman screaming something but, I didn‘t know what it was. Someone picked me up and carried me out of the house, to a waiting car. I was scared for the first time in a while and began to cry. I felt someone holding me and cradling me against them. It soothed my fear but not my anxiety. I was taken to another building and lots of bright lights were shined at me. People stood over me and I was pinched and prodded, even pricked, which hurt so bad that I began bawling. I remember changes and feedings but, there was something different about them, they were less smothering and more matter of fact. There was no cooing and more talking to me. I still couldn’t understand what was being said and I still couldn’t respond but, the speakers definitely wanted me to keep trying. After a while, I felt something slimy touching my face and saw a big square with moving dots on it in front of me. I was forced to watch the square for a long time, until I fell asleep. When I woke up, the world seemed a bit clearer, sharper, more in focus. I could tell some details about my surroundings. I seemed to be in a hospital, the smell of disinfectant and the white walls made me wonder what had happened. A nurse came over to me and began to check my diaper. She talked to me like a normal person. To my shock, I could understand some of her words. It was still a bit jumbled but I could definitely understand some of it. I tried to respond, telling her my name and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Quickly, she yelled and a few moments later, this guy in a white lab coat, a doctor I think, came over and began shining his pocked flashlight in my eyes and asking me questions. I tried to focus on what he was saying but it was too much all at once, I said my name again and said, one simple word, “Where”. The doctor and nurse seemed overjoyed and quickly motioned for someone to come. My mother (my real mother) leaned over the bed and looked down into my eyes. I was so happy to see her, I reached up and said, “Mommy!” She wrapped her arms around me and pulled me close. The moment would have been better if I hadn’t started peeing right then. My mother got soaked before she could pull the diaper over my front. I was so embarrassed that I started crying. Mom held me close and spoke soothingly to me. It calmed me but I was still upset at my lack of control in front of her. “ It will be fine honey.” she whispered into my ear The doctors began using the square (which turned out to be a video monitor) and earphones to help undo the effects of the helmet. Luckily, they were able to get my kidnapper to cough up the secrets of the helmet, so a program was designed to reverse it’s effects. After that first session, they weren’t sure that the program they had made would be able to change me back but, after the second session, I was able to fully understand English and even speak a little back. It took a few months before I was back to my normal self, even managed to get re-potty trained. I haven’t managed to get my control at night back but, the doctors say that will come in time. The worst part of this experience is the lasting effects of that damn woman’s program and, that’s the reason Dr. Kline has me writing this journal. Ever since I got out of diapers, I have felt the need to go back to them and be a baby again. I tried to fight it and refuse to give the madwoman a victory but, Dr. Kline says that the events of my kidnapping unlocked some deep part of my psyche that wants to be taken care of. She says that I may never get over wanting to be babied sometimes. My mother knows and she helps me with it when stress at school or life gets too much. I have a special room that we added to the house. That is where I go when I’m feeling low or depressed, mom knows the signal and comes in to take care of her baby boy for a while though, she NEVER breastfeeds me (Ugh, that was gross!). My mom and I are much closer now and for that, I thank the crazy woman who kidnapped me but, I’ll never forgive her for unleashing this infantile desire on me. I am now stuck with feelings I don’t want but, can’t get rid of. I have nightmares that my classmates find out I still like to be babied every now and again and that terrifies me. I finally found out the kidnapper’s name, Emily VanHoustan. She lost her baby due to the physical abuse of her ex-husband and never got over the trauma. As traumatized as she is, she’s still crazy and we sued her for a million dollars. That money is the key to my future. I think I’ll go into law enforcement maybe even into Missing Persons. Maybe I can make a difference and give some other kid a break like the one I got.

For me I hold it till my body says I have no choice. Then as it is slipping out I give a big push and it comes out fast! So I think I like the fact it hurts a little but is such a relief, and the huge lump in the back, then squishing it to the front around my twig and berries! ???? ?‍♂️

Stories like this about childhood wetting, messing and diaper play with a sibling or friend just blow my mind. A lot of people here seem to have done it at one time or another. Anything to do with accidents, diapers, toilet training (when my little cousins were that age) or just the everyday human need to go to the bathroom was really awkward in my family. It wasn’t a thing to talk about, let alone imagine doing with anyone. When I got fascinated with going in my pants and wearing makeshift diapers at 13 (puberty) it felt so dirty and strange (as well as thrilling, naughty and fun). It would have been really good for me to have someone to share it with. As it was I was playing with wetting and pooping my diapers and pants like a baby or little boy all by myself. I loved how it felt. But it was such a dirty secret to keep. It was five years before I knew I wasn’t the only kid in the world ever to do such a thing. A play partner who liked it too would have been so fun to watch and try things with. And also made me feel so much less weird. Though maybe it would also have increased the risk of getting caught, which I never did.

MIL Chapter 3 More of this happy domestic scene. Tim settled down to work on his construction while Sarah sat and read. Putting the plastic pieces together was absorbing work, and Tim soon forgot his concerns about feeling grown up or not. All was good. He was happy. He didn't notice Sarah getting up and going to the kitchen. A short while later, she emerged and came over to Tim. 'Dinner time, honey,' she said. Tim looked up, his eyes drawn to Sarah's large breasts. He thought how good they looked, and smiled. 'What are you building?' Sarah asked. 'It's a house,' Tim replied. 'Aren't you clever,' said Sarah. 'How's your diaper?' Tim felt slightly resentful at Sarah's tone. It wasn't 'clever' to build a Lego house. It was easy. And she didn't have to ask about his diaper. He'd had a single accident, and didn't even need to be wearing it now anyway. She didn't have to draw attention to it. Why couldn't she just have said 'Dinner's ready, Tim,' without making him feel childish. When she did that, Tim felt that he had to reestablish his adulthood. He ignored her offered hand and got to his feet. After sitting for so long, one of his legs was half asleep and he wobbled a bit as he stood. 'Careful, honey,' said Sarah and put her arm around his back to steady him. 'It's OK,' said Tim, trying to move out of her loose embrace. As he did so, he felt Sarah press the back and underside of his diaper. Again, he felt resentful. He'd just told her he was dry. 'I'm OK,' he said.'I just told you.' 'Good boy,' was all that Sarah said, taking his hand regardless. Tim followed her into the kitchen, which was big enough to have a casual dining table which Sarah had set for two. Tim was ready to do the right thing and pull out Sarah's chair for her but she beat him to it and pulled out a chair for Tim. His efforts to appear grown up weren't going too well. 'It's spaghetti bolognaise,' said Sarah. 'The sauce is a bit runny, so be careful.' Tim mumbled in reply. He didn't need to be told that, he thought. He sat, feeling the thick padding between his bottom and the wooden chair seat. It was nuts that he was sitting here with his mother in law, wearing a diaper and not much else, he thought. He squirmed a little to get comfortable, and was a little shocked to feel that he might be a little wet. He glanced up at Sarah,who was about to put a bowl of spaghetti in front of him. 'Are you OK, Tim?' she asked, pausing as she put the food down. 'Yeah, just getting comfortable,' he replied. 'OK,' said Sarah, looking at him for a little longer. She got her dinner, and sat opposite Tim. He noticed that she had a fork, but she'd given him a spoon. He picked it up. 'I can use a fork,' he said petulantly. 'I'm not a child.' 'Tim,' Sarah said firmly, 'It's not a matter of being a child. It's what's easiest for you. It's a bit messy, and a spoon is best for you.' Sarah put her fork into her spaghetti, twirled it neatly and took a mouthful. It didn't seem a good time for Tim to prolong the discussion about the spoon, so he started eating, chopping the spaghetti with the spoon and being careful not to spill any. Sarah asked Tim about Judy's plans for them to go to the park the next morning, and told Tim that she'd be staying overnight and accompanying them. Great, thought Tim. No one had asked him about that. He was a little distracted, and half of his next spoonful landed on his tracksuit top. 'Oh, honey,' said Sarah, getting up. 'It's OK,' said Tim, 'I can fix it,' he added, looking down at the mess. 'I'll do it,' said Sarah, already up and at his side with a damp cloth. Tim sat still while Sarah wiped the pieces of spaghetti and sauce from his clothing. Then Tim watched her go to the end of the kitchen bench and pick up some folded fabric. 'I don't need that!' said Tim. Sarah ignored his objection. 'Judy said she'd got some of these,' Sarah said, unfolding a pale yellow terry bib with blue edging and ties. 'I think they're a very good idea especially for messy meals like spag bog.' 'I don't need it!' said Tim as Sarah moved behind him and tied the bib around his neck. 'I'll be careful!' 'Tim, you just weren't careful,' Sarah told him. 'There,' she said, settling the bib flat over Tim's chest. 'Much better. That top goes in the wash tonight.' Tim looked down unhappily at the bib. He squirmed again in his chair, and realised that his diaper was now quite wet. He didn't even know when that had happened. It would mean that Sarah would find out when she put him to bed, then she'd change him again. It wasn't fair. Sarah sat down at the table. 'Oh, come on Mr Gloomy,' she said to Tim with a laugh. 'You've worn a bib before, Judy told me. I'd wear one too, if I made a mess.' 'Yes,' said Tim, 'But you're not, I mean...' Tim wanted to say that Sarah wasn't wearing a diaper and being treated like a child, but looking at her confident, face, makeup and mature clothes, it seemed a pointless thing to say. 'Come on, honey,' said Sarah. 'Eat up. We've got rhubarb crumble for dessert. Judy said it's your favourite.' 'Yes, it is,' said Tim, cheering up a little. He loved rhubarb crumble. The bib wasn't so bad once it was on, he thought, and it saved his top from another spill a little later on. Tim spent the rest of the meal glancing at Sarah's breasts. He even imagined lying in bed with Sarah next to him and, well, kissing one of her breasts. He'd been doing that a lot with Judy. Since his problems had started, they hadn't really been having proper sex so much, but one night, when he was half asleep, he'd been nuzzled up next to her and she'd moved around and put her breast to his mouth. Now they did it quite a lot, even when they were on the sofa, watching TV. She'd pull up her top and he'd settle against her, sucking gently. It was very relaxing. When dinner was over, including the delicious dessert, Tim helped Sarah clean up. Standing up, he'd felt his wet diaper sag between his legs. Sarah didn't say anything, but when they finished tidying up, she patted the sagging back of his diaper and after thanking him for being a 'good boy' and helping with the tidying, she said that it was time to get him 'sorted out' for bed. Tim followed her to the bedroom, not looking forward to being changed again. To be continued.

MIL Chapter 2 'Much younger,' asserted Tim, trying to feel all of his 27 years as he sat on the rug surrounded by his Legos. 'Well, younger,' said Sarah with a steady smile at Tim. Tim's heart leapt into his mouth. How much had Judy told her nasty mother, he wondered. His own mother had kept him in diapers at night until he was 12, and he'd had very occasional daytime accidents throughout his teens, but not often enough to need protective garments, he reminded himself. 'Anyway,' continued Sarah, 'Your age has nothing to do with it. It's about behaviour and responsibility. At the moment, I'd say your only responsibilities are to do as you're told and try to keep your pants dry,' she said, and turned back to her book. Then she looked up again. 'Do you need to do a wee?' she asked Tim. 'You've been sitting there a while.' 'No!' said Tim heatedly. 'I know when I need to go.' 'OK,' said Sarah mildly, and continued reading. Tim went back to his Legos. At least it took his mind off the uncomfortable conversation they'd just had. He did feel a slight pressure from his bladder. He needed to go fairly soon, but he was not going to jump just because Sarah reminded him. He was 27, after all, and the only daytime issues he'd had for ages were when he was in the car, or a long way from a bathroom, and that could happen to anyone. Tim looked around for corner roof pieces to finish the two storey house he'd built, while Sarah continued reading. What a pain she was, Tim thought. Fifteen minutes later, Sarah put down her book and stretched. ''Drinks break,' she said. 'Would you like some juice?' 'Yes please,' said Tim. He'd finished his roof and had been carefully building a fence around the house. He swivelled around and looked beside and between his legs for the Lego gate. It was one of his favourite pieces. Then he stopped in shock. The crotch of his blue track pants was soaked dark blue, the wet area extending onto his inner thighs and underneath him. Tim felt his heart pumping, and his thoughts raced. It wasn't fair. How had he not felt anything, now of all times? This hardly ever happened, he thought. It must be Sarah's fault somehow, he decided, glaring up at her. Sarah heard Tim's sharp intake of breath, and looked at him questioningly. Then, as Tim tried to turn away from her, she caught sight of his darkened crotch. 'Tim, stop!' she commanded him. Tim looked at her in fear now, and continued twisting away from her on the rug. Sarah got up from the chair and moved swiftly to Tim, gripping his arm and halting his gyration. Tim's gasp had turned to tears as he looked up at his mother in law. 'For heaven's sake, Tim,' she said. 'I just asked you if you needed to do wee.' 'I didn't,' sobbed Tim. 'I didn't know...' 'Come on,' said Sarah, dragging Tim up to his feet in a businesslike manner. Tim looked down to see the favoured Lego gate which had been under his leg and now lay in a darkened patch of the rug. 'I think it's an early diaper time for this little boy,' said Sarah, dragging Tim towards the bedroom. ''No, Judy does that,' objected Tim. 'Well I'm doing it now,' said Sarah. 'Look at you! Look at your pants! As I said, it's about responsibility.' Tim gave in, as he always did, and let Sarah lead him to the bedroom. 'In here,' said Sarah, taking Tim into the ensuite bathroom. 'Mrs Evans, I...' began Tim. 'Be quiet, Tim,' said Sarah sharply. 'I'm cross with you. Now, stand still.' Tim stood quietly while Sarah pulled down his track pants, exposing his white underwear, the entire front now wet with pee. Sarah looked for a moment at the damage, and the little wet bump of cotton fabric over Tim's genitals. 'Step!' ordered Sarah, and Tim took his feet one after the other from the track pants, which Sarah tossed into the corner of the bathroom. She tugged down Tim's underpants, brushing his hand aside as he attempted to cover himself. 'Just stand still,' said Sarah. 'There's no need to be modest. Where does Judy keep your wipes and diapers?' 'In there,' said Tim, still sniffling and pointing through the open door at a wardrobe. 'Good,' said Sarah. 'Now sit on the toilet and try to finish weeing, if you have any left,' she added. Sarah waited while Tim shuffled to the toilet, sat, and peed a little, then led him back into the bedroom. Tim stood miserably half naked while Sarah found in the bottom half of the wardrobe a well organised store of diapers, talc, lotion and wipes. Picking up what she needed including a folded towel, she returned to Tim. She put the towel on the bed and opened up a diaper, flattening it out and putting it on the towel. 'Here, please,' she said, and guided Tim into position on the diaper. Tim wasn't looking at her, but his tears began again. 'Do you cry every time someone changes your diaper?' asked Sarah crossly as she moved Tim's legs apart. 'No, it's just...' said Tim. 'Bottom up!' Sarah interrupted him. She noticed how smooth Tim's legs were. His groin was almost hairless too. At first she thought Judy must shave him, or make him shave, then she realised that he did have some body hair, including some pubic hair, but it was just very fine and blonde. Her own dark haired late husband had looked like a hairy gorilla in comparison, she thought. 'Still, please' she told Tim as he squirmed slightly while she was dusting his groin with talc. Tim lay quiet and still as Sarah pulled the diaper up between his legs and attached the tabs. 'All done' she said, patting the flat, puffy front of the diaper. 'Let's hope you can stay dry until Judy gets home. OK?' She helped Tim up off the bed. 'My pants,' said Tim. 'No,' said Sarah firmly. 'It's quite warm inside, and your diaper is quite enough. Seeing your diaper might remind you to be a little more grownup and responsible. I asked you if you needed to do wee and you still managed to wet yourself. If you were my child, you'd have earned a spanking for that little performance.' 'I'm not a child,' said Tim grumpily. 'Tim, enough,' said Sarah. 'Now go back and play on the rug until dinner time.' Tim stood looking at his mother in law. He didn't know what to say to her - he just felt defiant. 'Well?' said Sarah. 'Off you go and play with your blocks. Unless you really do want a spanking. Is that what you want?' 'They're not blocks,' Tim said quietly. 'Tim, you heard what I said,' said Sarah. 'Now off you go, or I'll get really cross.' Tim waddled unhappily out of the bedroom in his thick diaper. Walking around heavily diapered, especially without pants on to cover the diaper, did make him feel like a child - a toddler, in fact. He sat on the rug again, away from the wet patch, and picked up some Lego pieces. He glanced at Sarah's powerful legs across from where he was sitting. She was wearing adult clothes, he thought. She'd have thin panties on, and pantyhose and a bra. She had adult clothing over those, and was wearing shoes with heels. Tim was wearing a diaper and a top, with bare feet - exactly the outfit a toddler would wear. As he looked down at his puffy diaper and smooth, bare legs, and the Lego pieces scattered around him, tears ran down his cheeks. It was hard to convince himself that he wasn't a toddler. He had a sudden memory of sitting on the floor playing in front of his mother. He felt that nothing had changed, and a wave of helpless feelings washed over him, resolving into a simple longing for Judy, or his mummy. His wife and the memory of his mother seemed to merge into one. To give himself some comfort, he put the tip of his thumb between his lips, then slid his thumb farther in. He knew it was a childish habit, but the worst his mother in law could do was tell him to stop it. He didn't dare look at her, but he heard nothing. To be continued.

It wouldn't feel like a proper wetting if I didn't completely empty my bladder. I remember one occasion I did this, completely planned as I knew I would have the house to myself so I wouldn't be caught, I think I was about 18 at the time, I was just going to wake up in the morning and not go to the toilet and just wait until I wet myself. I drunk lots of water and very quickly needed a wee. I was able to hold on quite a while, most of the day in fact. At about 4 in the afternoon the inevitable happened. I was sat at my computer at the time . I felt a wonderful surge of warmth and felt my nappy start to get wet. I couldn't of stopped even if I'd wanted to. Resisting the urge to run to the toilet I just sat there until I'd finished weeing. It was incredible and when I'd finished I felt so high on adrenaline. The nappy had taken all of it. There was no urine on my trousers at all. I simply cleaned myself up and went back to what I was doing. I've attempted this since and failed miserably as I very rarely get days completely to myself normally giving up by just going to the toilet.

I was toilet trained by the time I was two, and I don't have any memories of it at all. I don't even remember my little sister being in diapers. What I do remember is having lots of accidents, day and night. I wet my bed about half the time when I was five, fairly often until I was seven, and occasionally until I was nine. In the daytime I had a few full-on classic wet-pants-and-a-puddle level accidents, but mostly I would have lots of little slips of control. One childish warm spurt in my underwear when I was excited or distracted or playing hard, or (this happened a lot) too shy to tell a teacher or caregiver when I needed to go. I think any parent would recognize the look on my face when I'd just "done it" and was hoping no-one knew. I was a little bit wet most days from nursery school through the end of grade one, and was sometimes trying to hide a telltale round damp patch on the front of my pants. My parents were never unkind about it, but they were also terribly embarrassed about bodily functions, and I felt an exaggerated sense of shame whenever I'd "done it." Some of my most shameful memories are of being wet like a much younger child in some public place, or waking up in my pee-soaked sheets and pyjamas (I was a deep sleeper and really knew how to flood my bed) and knowing I was going to have to tell my mom I'd had an “accident” again. I remember waking up from naps all wet when I was lying on my tummy on my little blue blanket at nursery school. I remember wetting my bed in a cabin full of boys at summer camp when I was 7, 8 and 9.

I was potty trained early, probably around two and many accidents after that

I had several pee and poop accidents as a kid. I had a pee accident in the first grade and had to ride the bus home with wet pants. My older sister was on the bus with me. Very humiliating. I had more pee and poop accidents after that but not at school. I did it a couple of times on purpose because I liked the feeling. Stooped for a while and started again as an adult. I think I found being an adult too hard and did it to relieve the stress