Leaderboard

Chapter 27: Playhouse I HAD CLIMBED my way back up the stairs after breakfast and taken a shower to clean myself up. Grandma had put a ladder in the bathtub that let me climb up into the tub and back out like an above-ground pool ladder back home. ‘I think Mom told me Grandma always gave her baths?’ I thought. When I was done and dressed in one of the casual jeans and sweatshirt sets from the previous day, I went out to my room to brush my hair. ‘Need to wash it tonight while I’m here,’ I thought. My sisters and mom had me in the habit of not washing it daily to keep it from drying out. Instead, I used the same dry shampoo stuff they did, and it worked pretty well. Rather than put my hair into a ponytail that day, I let it hang loosely past my shoulders like I usually did at home. Just in case I needed it, I put a black hairband on my wrist and thought about playing more with the goggles. My phone buzzed just then, Want to come over and hang out here? The message was from Shelby. Sure! I responded. Knowing I would have to go outside to get to their ‘house,’ I grabbed a coat we bought the day before and put my phone in a large zip hand pocket. I held off zipping it up until I got to the outside door. Hopping down the steps reminded me of jumping down some crazy steps at a Mayan pyramid back home on vacation. These things were massive compared to my small size. ‘Well, I am only the size of a very young baby to them,’ I reminded myself. At the bottom of the steps, I found Grandpa hanging around, “Finding everything okay?” He asked me. I nodded, “Shelby asked me to come over to their house?” “Glad to see you two getting along so well! Those kids never see friends outside of school. Well, Ryan doesn’t really leave here now; everything’s online, so he’s pretty much here like his mother - all the time.” “That seems boring,” I said. “It is; I worry about Shelby after she graduates. I’m hoping she can get through graduation and make it to Hamilton okay. Once she’s there, I’m sure she’ll be fine!” “Did you all ever consider moving to another state? I think that one is safer for Littles?” He nodded, “We thought about it, but with Grandma’s job, it would have meant leaving too much behind.” He shook his head, “Enough heavy talk, though,” he smiled and opened the front door for me, “Just go on over and knock. Knowing that girl, though, she’ll probably be waiting for you on the front porch!” “Thanks,” I told him. The open door blew a ton of cold air opposite the past few days, and I was really grateful I’d thought to grab a coat! Overnight the temperatures had dropped probably close to freezing, and it was night and day from the previous day. As I approached the house, I couldn’t help but think that to a Big would probably seem like a child’s playhouse. It appeared to be two stories tall, but even with a pitched roof, it still didn’t climb to the height of the first story of the main house! It was a cute home, though, with an old-fashioned wrap-around porch and rocking chairs sitting out on it. The paint complimented the main house, so it seemed like a well-to-do family built their ‘children’ the perfect place to play. As Grandpa guessed, Shelby was outside to greet me as soon as I approached the house. “What do you think?” She asked me. I climbed four stairs up the porch and motioned, “This seems like a normal place!” She laughed, “I’m sure this is more normal for you. It’s so rare to have things sized for Littles here! Come in before we freeze,” she said. She only wore leggings and a long sweater, so I figured she had to be cold! Inside, the house was nice and warm, and she said, “Take off your shoes there,” to me. I followed her directions and looked around. To my left was a dining room with a table that seemed bigger than the family one we ate at back home most of the time had been, but I figured that was just my short size. ‘I’m child sized even compared to back home,’ I had to admit. Room for probably eight Littles was present at the table, but somehow, I could tell it was five chairs at most that got used much. I figured a Betweener could probably sit in the chairs, if not a little bit like a middle schooler sitting on a kindergarten chair. Everything looked ‘real,’ and I guessed Amanda and Fred probably had some guests who cooed at it. Looking at the place, I noticed that there was a larger door that a giant could probably squeeze through. They would have to stay really low to not break anything, though! “Here, let me give you the tour!” she said with a smile. “Obviously, dining room,” she said and walked me back around the side and through a door where there was a… play kitchen? “Just a play kitchen?” I asked. She laughed, “Sort of…” with a shrug, “Mom never really cooked much anyway, so when Grandma and Grandpa built this for us, he put in a working refrigerator and freezer,” she gestured, “and then a working sink, dishwasher, and microwave.” Finally, she pointed to a newer-looking appliance, “And this an AmeniTea, our family Christmas present.” “What does it do?” I asked. “Cooks, anything you want?” She smiled. “Anything?” I asked. “Well, almost anything. It does have to have the resources for it. We have a pretty large starter pack, though, that we installed.” “That’s cool,” I said skeptically. “So the stove, though?” I pointed to what looked like a plastic toy stove from a daycare back home. “Doesn’t work; even when Mom lived on her own, she could have burned water!” She laughed. I laughed with her and let her lead me around the rest of the first story, where there was a half-bath, a Living Room with a sizeable holoscreen setup, and a really comfy-looking set of chairs and couches. Family pictures of Shelby and Ryan growing up were placed along the wall, along with photos with their mother with them. I even saw one with my mom and her mom together. Unable to help myself, I used the camera on my new phone to take a picture of it. “Whatcha doing?” She asked me. “It’s cute; I’ll send it to my sister Riley. Maybe she can use it to make a print for Mom.” “That’s cool; I know my mom misses your mom still.” “I know the same is true for my mom; she was just terrified of ever shrinking even smaller if she came back.” “Well, that’s it for this floor; the basement is our old play area and Mom and Ryan’s hidden work areas. As far as any Big guests are concerned, Mom still plays there with the toys during the day.” “That’s got to be weird?” I asked as she led me up the stairs. She nodded, “We’re just lucky we have Grandma and Grandpa; if Mom had any other parents, we might never have even been allowed to potty train or leave daycare ourselves.” “I’m glad they are,” I said. Shelby pointed, “That’s Ryan’s room, Mom’s room is down there, and this is mine,” she said with a smile. She pushed open a white bedroom door with her name on a cute nameplate, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so funny?” She asked, clearly offended. “I need a picture of Riley’s room to show you, but your room looks nearly identical to hers! Like, I swear she even has that exact same comforter!” She looked at me in surprise, “Really?” I laughed, “Yeah, I wish we could get the two of you together. You’re like long-lost twin sisters in some ways!” But then, I looked around and noted that her vanity was just a little different; probably the only main difference was the open box of girls’ Pull-Ups off the side. She blushed a little when I noticed, but I said, “Why are you embarrassed? I’m wearing one right now too?” She shrugged, “I just like to think I’m an adult; I hate wearing them.” She motioned for me to sit on the floor across from her as she sat and leaned against her daybed. “Your school rules require them?” I asked. She shook her head, “Not necessarily. You can go to school without protection on… it’s just too risky?” “How so?” Shelby sighed, “So for a Little in our high school, we have potty charts like you do… but they’re not quite as important? Besides being an embarrassing item in your homeroom class, it’s not a big deal. You can go to college without any potty stars. The worst case is that a university like Emerson may highly encourage diapers instead of Pull-Ups when you go to college.” “I won’t say that makes sense… but I guess that seems like something they would do.” She nodded, “So anyway, as long as you’re wearing at least a Pull-Up and have an accident, it’s not the end of the world. You might even be lucky enough to make it home without a teacher or a Big student noticing.” “If they do?” I asked. She shrugged, “They usually change you if it’s a teacher, or if it’s a student, they’ll either change you or drag you to the nurse. Just depends on the Big.” “Change you? Where?” I asked. “If it’s a teacher, probably right in the classroom in front of everyone.” I felt my jaw drop, “You’re kidding!” “Nope, if you’re baby enough to have an accident, they feel like they can change your pants in public.” “That’s horrible! Has that happened to you?” I asked hesitantly. She nodded, “Not since Middle School, though. Grandma found out and went to school and ripped the heads off the teacher and principals. I’ve never had a problem with them doing that in high school.” I wanted to ask if she had accidents, but I thought better of it. “What happens if someone isn’t wearing a Pull-Up or something and has an accident?” “There aren’t many idiots who won’t at least wear a Pull-Up, but they usually get spanked in front of everyone and are never allowed back at school without diapers for the rest of the year. Their potty privileges get completely revoked then, too - they can’t even enter a bathroom without an alarm going off.” “This place is nuts!” I said. She nodded, “You’re right; I wish I could visit your dimension! The idea of living without diapers and some Amazon’s nursery hanging over my head sounds amazing!” I suddenly felt terrible for her and leaned in and hugged her, “I’m sorry you’ve grown up like that!” She looked shocked but smiled, “I’ve had it better than most! At least Grandma and Grandpa helped make sure no one could really bully us as much.” I nodded, “Mom said they protected her a lot too.” I looked around her room and asked, “So, like, what do you like to do for fun? Ryan already let me know you’re not a swimmer. I guess you do martial arts like my family… but what else do you do to hang out with friends?” She shrugged, “Hard to actually have ‘playdates’ with friends growing up. Other than at school, friends, I don’t really have many. I spend a fair amount of time on homework and then maybe some with my EdgeSphere goggles playing games.” “Those are really cool; I haven’t had much of a chance to play yet, though.” She smiled, “Aunt Megan and Meggy are coming over later this afternoon; I’m sure she would be happy to play a couple games with us.” She shook her head, “Just don’t hope to beat her on any games!” “Why?” I asked. “So my mom designs clothes still, right?” I nodded. “When Aunt Megan adopted Meggy, it was more like she adopted a teenager still in some ways. The girl basically sits and plays video games all day!” “Oh, that’s kind of cool!” “Yeah, but it also means she’s, like, at the Professional Level. With EdgeSphere games, she can hide that she’s a Little and plays all the time as this world-class gamer. She’s amazing!” “I guess practicing every day for decades and never having to stop for a potty break would help?” She laughed, “That’s almost exactly what she says!” Shelby and I hung out for the next couple of hours, and it felt very much like being with Riley. Then, just before lunch, she led me downstairs for the rest of the tour and showed me the basement. Most of it was occupied by the largest play area I could imagine outside a daycare! Toys meant for kids six months to three years were spread about as if they were regularly played with. I had to ask, “So, do these actually get played with?” Shelby blushed, “Sometimes… We’ve had a pretty lonely childhood, and sometimes we move things around to make it look good in case LPS visits.” “Does that happen often?” I asked nervously. She shook her head, “Only twice while I’ve been alive. Our nurseries in Grandma and Grandpa’s house passed inspection with no problem. The playhouse was less liked until they saw this room.” “How does an Amazon even get in here?” I asked. She smirked, “They sent a Betweener in.” I noticed some dolls that looked like they probably were twenty years old, while other toys looked like they had just been pulled from the packaging. “You said your mom has a workroom here?” “Ryan does, too,” she said, leading me to a wall with a play nursery setup. She pressed on a spot on the changing table behind some toy diapers, and a section of the wall disappeared. “Whoa, cool!” I said. “Holo-wall?” “Yep, Grandma is pretty creative!” The wall exposed a hallway that must have gone into the ground a little way before we came to the first open doorway. Ryan was inside working on something on a computer. “Hey, Ryan,” Shelby said. He didn’t hear us, so he jumped, “Oh, it’s you two! Hi,” he said. Then, without saying anything else, he said, “Gotta keep working here…” “See you later,” I said and followed Shelby back out of the room and noticed across the hallway, there was another room. “What’s that one?” I asked. “Oh, Grandma made a room for me too in case I ever want to just work from home… I want to leave and go to college, though, so it’s pretty empty.” She opened the door and showed me a barebones home office without anything personalizing except a couple pictures. “Cool, even if you don’t use it!” I said, “It’s got to be nice to have a backup?” She nodded, “It is; I hope I’m long gone after graduation!” I nodded and knew that would be similar to Mom leaving, and I suspected the family would miss her a lot. She continued down the hallway and opened a door at the end that led to a vast open room filled with bolts of fabrics, sewing machines, and some odd contraption in the middle that her mom was working with. She looked up and said, “Oh, hey, guys!” “What are you working on there?” I asked. “Oh, this is a FashionFuser,” she smiled. “I put in all of the details of clothes, and it’ll print, sew, and size any clothing for me.” I watched as she fiddled with some settings, “I was just getting ready to print this sample dress,” she said. “Can we watch?” I asked. “Sure, it doesn’t take long,” Aunt Bella said. With the press of a button, I saw the machine come to life, and in a clear cube in the middle, a dress dummy suddenly sprang to life from nowhere. “What is that?” I asked, “Where did that come from?” Aunt Bella giggled, “Your mom would have loved this thing too. It’s a hologram that is precisely the model’s measurements for the dress or garment. So it prevents having multiple types of dress dummies like I used to have.” I watched as from nowhere, like a 3D printer, it began running an attachment around in circles from the top of the dummy downward, and a dress began to take shape. “Mom, you are not going to get me to try one of those monstrosities on again!” Shelby griped beside me. “Huh?” I said, even as I realized there was a reason she wouldn’t want to be caught dead in it. It must have been the frilliest and most babyish dress ever imagined! A diaper cover was just visible under the short skirt of the dress when it was done. The dress skirt puffed out and was supported by some sort of fabric, pushing it out to where it would probably nearly be as wide as the wearer’s arm span! It featured lace around the outside of puffy short sleeves, more lace around the neck, and some lacy white fabric peeked out from beneath the skirt. It was so adorably sweet I was pretty sure every Amazon in the dimension would fall over trying to dress their Little girls in them! “Don’t worry, sweetie, this one is for me. Your cousin Meggy’s birthday party is next week, and she is having a Little party with baby attire required.” “Do I have to go?” Shelby asked nervously. “I can definitely make a matching outfit for you? You’d certainly be adorable if I made this in pink?” Her mom teased her with a smirk. “Or, you can just be a babysitter?” “Babysitter!” Shelby said as quickly as she could while picking up her mom and hugging her. I laughed at the two of them and had to appreciate the unique relationship they had! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thank you for reading! Please press the 'Like’ Button at the top of this chapter to like this work and help others find it! Comments are always super appreciated as well! I appreciate those of you who liked the previous chapter! Since I had to post off schedule once, I figured I would do it twice and get back onto schedule! Looking forward to seeing what you all think about the family here. The next chapter sends Connor back to school and we'll start to see college life in the Nest begin for real! I'm currently nearing one of my last productive writing windows until next January. Help spur me on with likes and comments! (My goal is to not have any downtime in chapters for this story until it’s concluded!) LCW will have a new posting normally every Friday for the foreseeable future! Your support through likes and comments means a lot to me. That being said, if you’ve enjoyed this or any of my other works, consider supporting me by purchasing copies of them on Amazon Kindle! (And if you do so pretty please consider leaving me a 5-star review (you can just leave the stars and no public reviews are viewable then!))

Sorry for the long absence, I've been in a writing competition for over a month. I'll try to be better. Chapter 3 Like anyone who has been in school the days just blend together. Sure the lessons are different, new assignments given. New gossip, weather and news from the sports teams. But they are all the same on any given day. An assignment due every class, a test in nearly one subject or another every day and a paper or project due every week. It was the hardest semester I’ve ever done. When the days blend I sometimes lose myself in thought. Which is what happened to me one February day as I was walking through the hallway and a door opened so fast I just didn’t have time to react and the stout wood hit me square in the head. The impact sent me stumbling backward, falling onto my padded rear, letting all the air out of the diaper. My backpack, which was already heavy for me, pulled my back in a further lean, giving me a good view of Tagger who stood there looking at me as I held my head and tried to orient myself. “Ouch!” I said aloud, I could already feel the headache coming. Tagger and I were just staring there for several seconds before I realized the entire hallway had gone quiet. Every amazon had stopped to look at Tagger, the door and a fallen little. For most the logic would be sound. The little ran into the door as it was opening, however, given what had happened to Tagger for the last few weeks it was anything but logical. Tagger had become a ghost of his former self. His self-confidence had been destroyed. Most of his football group didn’t sit with him anymore at lunch or assemblies. The experience had caused a slight relapse and he had been forced to wear a diaper for a few days, then pull-ups for a few weeks. He’d only returned to normal underwear, according to the gossip of this place a few days ago. Last week he’d passed me in the hallway with his face was a mixture of anger and shame. He tried to hit me once when he was out of diapers. He lifted me by my shirt and pressed my back hard against the lockers. It was difficult to breathe for a few seconds until Katy and several other amazons told him to put me down. Several of his former friends had stood behind Katy and intimidated him to put me down. I don’t know the particulars of what happened afterwards but for the last few days he’s just passed me. Never looked or made eye contact. And here he was now on the other side of a door that just hit me. I’m not mad at him. I mean was an honest mistake, I should have been paying attention. “How could you Tagger!” an amazon female shouted. The sound hurt my ears but not nearly as much as the sounds that came after. Dozens and dozens of amazons flooded the hallways creating an ever growing barrier between Tagger and me. I never moved and yet I could feel the crowd get larger, their voices making my head hurt more and more. I heard some shouting in the distance followed by someone shouting fight but that was soon fading away as I was picked up by Elsa, one hand on my back and the other cupping my diaper under my pants. She wasn’t pressing me to her like Bree does, eh allowed me to support my head with my hand to mitigate the headache as she walked down the hallway, opposite of the Tagger. I could feel other hands rubbing my back and pulling the waistband of my pants so I knew they were checking me themselves. I tried to tell them to just let me go to class but every time I opened my mouth speak I was shushed. By either Elsa or another from the crowd that was clearing the hallway for Elsa to carry me. You would think she was handling an explosive with how much they were overreacting. After a few minutes I realized they were taking me to the nurse’s office. Nothing I said was going to make them stop; too many amazons in full parental panic, emotion to the highest decree, washing over them. The nurse’s office wasn’t much better. You should have heard the disappointment when the staff turned away most of the amazons away except for Elsa and one other amazon girl that had walked in with her. With the crowd at the door, another flurry I found myself in as the nursing staff took over. To give you some perspective…our school nurses office is nearly as big as a hospital waiting room. It was mean to take care of over 60 students at a time. Anything more than that and they would call the hospitals. After informing the nurse at the front desk what happened, without any input from me, we were escorted to a room where I was changed into a hospital gown and being held and baby talked by the two girls. My watch was removed and laid on the table. After a few moments I was taken to the schools MRI machine where I was swaddled in a blanket, “please remain as still as you can Aaron. I know the machine is scary and makes loud noises but do your best to be a brave boy,” the nurse said to me before leaving the room. Does every amazon believe we are as fragile as glass? The machine started up, it was a very loud noise but aside from that I really didn’t have a problem. It took a few minutes but I was eventually picked back up and delivered back to the room where Elsa and the other were but it turned out the nurse had told them to return to class. I was laid on the table. The lights were dimmed low and I was told to rest until the results came in. As the door close I put my watch back on, twisting the dial. Immediately I could feel little pins and needles sensations move up my arm, similar to when blood flow returns to your limbs after cutting the flow off. In truth it was my little nano-machines when they reached my ear, Morpheus spoke. You have a concussion Aaron. “That would explain the headache” I replied, turning over on my stomach to conceal my face in as much darkness as possible. Morpheus had evolved ten thousand times over since the start of the year. With his help in comprehensive coding of the Nantes I was able to finish my project a week early. Then I simply used my last week to improve on my original design, made changes in the schematics of the coding and paperwork and finalized it before submitting it to Mr. Tully last week. I only mention this because the nurse is typing on her computer a recommendation for you…summary regression. Zero chance of getting hurt like this again. “How did you—“I started before I remembered that Morpheus scans nearby machinery and electronics when he starts. Computers, phones, tablets, security footage, robots and machinery. This feature let him orient itself with its surroundings. “Never mind” I said softly. There is no way she got approval for that summary, nor would she be allowed to implement it but when have amazons really followed the rules when it comes to being fair to littles. Sure enough, a few minutes later the nurse comes in with a cup of apple juice, she tells me to drink it as it will help me feel better. After a she left I struggled getting off the table and pouring the apple juice into a potted plant tin the corner, something doctors’ offices do to make the room nicer for people. Another struggle getting back up on the table and my head was pounding. I lay there for another few minutes before I heard the door open. I thought it was the nurse checking to see if I drank the apple juice but then I heard additional voices. “We only have a few minutes before the nurse comes back,” a female voice said. The bright lights flicked on, I covered my mouth as the headache came back. “Don’t you dare scream,” another female voice said. I was manhandled onto all fours as my diaper was pulled down and a sharp slap connected with my rear end forcing a muffled scream into the hand. A few moments passed before I felt a cold liquid smeared around my butt hole and then a foreign object forced into it. I screamed again into the hand, followed by another sharp smack on my rear end and the object finished entering. It took a few seconds but then I felt liquid entering me. It was an enema. I tried to move but the amazon’s arms held me in place. I couldn’t do anything but squirm and take it. It was then, Shelly Henning sat on the bed in front of me, a large smile on her face. “Hi baby,” she said. She wasn’t trying to hide her pleasure in my pain. “I know you’ve been having trouble going during the daytime so this should help. The enema is mostly water but there are a few chemicals to help you. It’s the same thing my mother gives to her littles to ensure they make poopies.” ‘Ugh’ she went on and on about littles in need of parents to take care of them. It was when the enema was near the end that her real motivation came about. “Now, I want you to thank me for the enema and helping to keep you healthy.” I was mad. I didn’t want to say it but all it took was whoever was behind me twisting the nozzle and I gave in, “thank you” I said “for keeping me healthy by giving me this enema.” “Your welcome baby. Now you can do me a favor as repayment for this kindness.” The nozzle was being pulled…slowly. The pain was excruciating. Not just the pressure on my bladder but the pain on my butthole. As she spoke the girls finished removing the enema bulb and lifted the diaper back in place. “I know you act very smart baby boy. You make good grade but you spend way too much time trying not to mess your pants. Still, I need your mind. I want you to hack the school’s auto closet.” That was an odd request. I mean the thing is essentially a computer but why in the world would you want to hack a fancy closet? It doesn’t keep any valuable records (credit cards or passwords). Al it can do is change clothes. I pondered this, why would a stuck up girl like Shelly care about getting access to a machine that changes clothes? Humiliation? Maybe. But if that was true, it would mean she wasn’t to humiliate more than one person. Shelly acted like the queen bee of the school but she isn’t. Pretty-yes, smart-yes, conniving-oh yes but as for being on top of the social hierarchy of the school-maybe just outside of the top ten. A smack on my diapered bottom jostled my heavy bladder and brought me back to reality. Shelly was telling me she wanted complete access to the auto-closet and she wanted access by the next week. I didn’t want to do it. For one it was a crime as it was a functioning tool of the school. Second, by tampering with it, it would be a crime against the company that made it as it violated their warranty policy. I had to figure out something to do. All I could think of was stalling. “Shelly, it can’t be done in a week. The safety firewalls are adaptive algorithms that change every second. It would take me three weeks to calculate them on any computer to get past them.” She showed little to no interest in my words. Another smack on my diaper and she chided me for trying to make excuses and not do this little favor for her. I simply replied that I would do it only if she gave me the right amount of time to get it done. After a few more seconds of pleading she finally agreed but if I didn’t deliver as soon as possible she would be back with super suppositories. She and her two friends left with the enema bag and when the door she it was like they were never there. My bladder was hurting, my butt was tingling with heat and my head was hurting from the added stress. I waited there with every muscle in my butt clenched to keep everything inside. It was a losing battle and if I didn’t do something soon I was going to go into the diaper. That would be all anyone needs to demerit me and send me to the principle for discipline. Or worse, regression. After the nurse came in, surprise on her face more than anything that I wasn’t regressed, she checked my vitals again. It took everything in my power to not cry out when she drew blood. The resident doctor checked me over and said I was good to go back to class. I walked out into the hallway, a little shaky but nothing terrible, but every single step is making my but hurt. With people moving about the hallways I didn’t dare make a run for the bathroom; I would be stopped just before I could ever enter. I can tell some of the amazon women are watching me. Like they knew something was going to happen to him, waiting for it to happen. I walked with purpose toward the stairs until I felt a hand take mine and jerk me toward the elevator. Before I could even notice what happened the elevator doors were closing and a ping announced over the elevator. Thank you Ms. Parker I looked up to see Rosalie looking at me with equal parts worry and anger. Turned out Rosalie had heard about it what happened to me and had come to see me but overheard Shelly and her threats. She heard what they were doing to me and hid before anyone else could see her. “Where are we going?” I asked. “The home economics class is empty this period, the nurse leaves the door unlocked in the event a little has an accident. It would be better to do it there, no one on that side of the floor for until after lunch. The elevator pinged and we stepped out, heading left to the home economics room. I never thought I would enter this room ever again after freshmen year. The smell of baby powder and wipes is a permanent stain in this room. Rosalie led me to the private office where its own private bathroom was at. It was a little bigger than me. Rosalie laid an adaptation on top of the toilet. “I have to use this sometimes. Some amazon toilets are too big even for me. I didn’t ask or reason that I was using her toilet seat. My bowels constricted and in truth the idea that I was dropping my pants in front of a girl was just gone. I couldn’t get the diaper off, I didn’t have my tools with me. So I just sat on the adapter…diaper and all. Rosalie pulled my shirt off at the last second before it happened. BLLLLLLUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP!!! It all came rushing out. A watery mess that felt sticky on my rear end. My eyes were closed and the mess just kept coming. After several minutes the diaper must’ve reached capacity because it leaked out of the diaper and into the toilet. It wasn’t just that, oddly a sense of relief washed over me as my bowls cleared. Maybe even a euphoric feeling, which was quickly replaced with disgust at the fact that the diaper held most of the mess against me. I was panting. I was exhausted from all of this. Not to mention that my head was still hurting and I was only in a diaper in front of a girl. It was then I looked up to see Rosalie had stepped out of the bathroom sometime in my blowout. I took a sigh of relief at that until I realized she was going to see and smell it when she came back in. After moments of silence and the last trickle came out; I just sat there and waited. “Are you done?” she called. At first I nodded before realizing I didn’t say much of anything. “Yes” I said. “Ok, well don’t freak out, but this is the best way to clean you.” The door opened and in walked a nannybot. I panicked, trying to move but the full diaper just sloshed around and more came out of the leg holes but it threw me of balance. The nannybot was dressed in a maids outfit, all forest green with white frills and apron. Most nanny bots have the same stock face, like mannequins in a store. Modeled after some famous actress years ago. Unlike fancier nanny bots, this one was on wheels, moving smoothly as it approached and picked me up. It was an odd sensation and at first me fear kicked it at this. Being taken to the changing table. The Nanny bot removed the diaper, dropping it into the waste, before taking me to the large sink for bathing infants. A steady stream of warm water washed over me as the nanny bot scrubbed me from head to toe, taking intense care around my privates. While being manhandled I noticed Rosalie watching the ordeal from beside the bot. “Relax Aaron, its ok,” she said softly. “It’s the most efficient way to clean you.” By this point the bath was over and I was being dried. “I don’t want this thing to go too far” I said. “Relax, I gave it the instructions. Just let the bot do its thing and it will be over soon,” she replied. Being dry I was whisked back to the changing table where all of the straps were used. A vial of liquid was massaged into my skin for a few seconds before wiping me down. Then the bot lifted my legs, a baby wipe going over my rear side that was when I noticed my hair was gone. “Oh crap, now I’m hairless like a little” I said. “In case you forgot, Aaron, you are a little,” Rosalie replied. Baby powder patted into my butt before I was wrapped back into a diaper. The diaper snug against my skin. It wasn’t a super thick diaper but it was definitely more than the pampers I usually wear. In no time I was redressed in my school uniform before the nannybot returned to its station and began recharging. ‘Huh’ I thought, “usually nannybots are all cooing and baby talk, it was almost weird not hearing it talk.” “My parents had a nannybot for me when I was a child,” Rosalie said. “One of the first things I learned was the speech centers. I couldn’t stand it as a kid. I used to leave my room at night to tinker with it.” She gestured to the nannybot while I slipped my backpack on, “fortunately this one obeys commands.” My impression of Rosalie was definitely raised at this point. My headache getting less and less but it was still there. We walked out of the room, the hallway now empty as classes had begun. She elbowed me in the side in a playful manner. This was actually a bit of fun, being out in the hallways during class time. A little bit of a rebellion, for someone like me who lives strictly by the rules, it’s a very freeing moment. The same feeling when you have a holiday off. Down the stairs we reached the junction, her class was the opposite direction from me, “I’m going this way,” she said. “I’m this way,” I motioned in the opposite direction. “Well I have to say this was exciting compared to a normal school day. Glad I could help.” “Hey, Rosalie…thank you,” I was turning away from her when the quick patter of feet came up behind me. All of a sudden Rosalie kissed me, on the cheek, but she kissed me. Then ran off down the hallway. Shock was the only word I could think of. “It would appear Ms. Parker likes you” Morph’s voice snapped me out of my daze and forced me back to reality and to my waiting class. After handing the teacher the nurse’s note I took my seat and set about taking notes on everything. Thinking on Shelly’s threat of physical harm if I didn’t hack the auto-closet. The attempted regression by the nursing staff. Being manhandled by a nannybot in front of a pretty girl and yet, that kiss kept popping up at random. Toward the end of the class the school announcements were being read overhead. Our schools basketball team was apparently on track to win another championship, which was conflicting. On the one hand I’m glad our school is doing well but on the other hand I’ve never been to a single game. Littlest were not allowed to attend sporting events without a parent (adopted or biological) or a guardian. No little wanted that as it would go to the amazons head that the little in question was wanting to be adopted and would therefore have no need to watch the game. Especially after a little in my sophomore year attended a volleyball game and was adopted and diapered before the match was even half done. Someone had poured water down her clothes and made it look like she wet herself, or so I was told by my fellow littles. Speaking of littles, we are down to just three of us. Kevin had made the mistake of believing an amazon who’d invited him to a party at their house. Don’t get me wrong, there was a party, there was also alcohol and plenty of amazon females. Within an hour, LPS and police arrived, Kevin was deemed to put himself into harm’s way and that clearly made him having a case of maturosis. Elizabeth Burkhart, daughter of the home economics teacher ended up adopting Kevin. There was nothing that could be done. Bree made sure to usher me toward him when Elizabeth brought him to school as the home economics aid (a position I’d been force to do my freshmen year). The sad part of that was I was forced to do it, but because I was the aid, I didn’t actually participate in the class and the teacher gave me a B-. I looked on as I saw Kevin suffering the same fate. His new mommy and grandmother could force him to do this year after year. With announcements over, so was class. I knew word had gotten around school, though Tagger’s fate was unknown to me. Still I moved quickly through the hallways, Bree will be looking for me, but for this last period we are not together, if I can get down to the second level and I n the classroom I will be in the clear— I was whisked up in the air and my face was planted against a woman’s chest. “Oh Aaron, you’ve had me so worried” Bree cried out. A quick movement and a door shutting and I found myself sitting on a counter top, my head even with Bree’s boobs. She was poking and prodding my head, searching my face and hair for any sign of bruising. Bree herself looked like she’d been crying for a while now. Some of her mascara was runny and teardrops lay on the collar of her shirt. “My god, are you hurt? Did he hurt you? What did the doctor say? Are you in pain? Do you need a new diaper?” The endless sea of questions were pouring out of Bree and it seemed every few seconds she would embrace me in a tight hug as if to assure herself that I was still here. “You’re crushing my head in your hugs Bree and I still have a headache,” I managed to say in between hugs. Bree released me and after a few calming breaths she smiled. I confirmed that I was ok. I also thanked her for her concerns but I really was ok. Bree touched up her makeup and carried me to my last class. She was almost reluctant to let me go. After class she Bree insisted on a last diaper change but honestly I thinks she was looking for a reason to check on me again. ~*~ Over the weekend I spent majority of time working on Shelly’s request. Since there was no evidence it would be my word against Shelly’s and no matter how smart I am, amazons will not simply take my word for it. In fact, with false accusations, it could be declared maturosis. And with the threat of further attacks it seemed easier to just work on it. I set up the code accessing the auto-closet while I set morph to build an app that could set it to a phone. This seemed easier than simply giving Shelly a webpage. That would give more people options to mess with it and I simply wanted Shelly to be the only one doing damage. I took some time to clean, school work. I had some in depth conversations with my lawyers concerning the house being sold, my college dorm has already been paid for. He also set up a video chat with my roommate, and my contract for the end of the year. All in all it was a busy weekend and I still hadn’t finished Shelly’s request. I needed some conversion help in the coding to switch between the sensors and the app. For this I needed to speak with Dylan, he would be more familiar with this code. I mean his project is anti-gravity equations which use conversion algorithms. I need to talk with him and convince him somehow. This upcoming week is Valentines week, ugh, I wish I was sick this week. It’s just too much love. Don’t get me wrong I’ve nothing against it but this week it feels too much. With groceries delivered and everything set out for the week I turned in. It was not peaceful sleep. I woke up several times covered in sweat. Nightmares of being adopted by Shelly or getting thrown into an automated daycare or etiquette school would not let me have a peaceful night’s sleep.

Chapter 10: One on One The LETO Syndicate – LittleFallenPrincess ‘Poor Sarah…’ I thought to myself, as the Headmistress carried me down the hallways and into her office. She didn’t even put me in a stroller like our Nanny does, she just carried me the whole way in her arms, my legs still wrapped around her hips. It still shocked me how strong she was. I pushed the jealousy I felt towards Brian getting to do… that… with Sarah to the back of my mind, as the Headmistress closed the door behind her and walked over to a lone seat in the middle of the room. I waited for her to place me in it… but she walked right past it, over to her modern white desk and office chair, sitting down and placing me on her lap facing her. I had a quick look around whilst she adjusted herself and got comfortable in her seat. This office was… very bare. It was white and modern, very minimalistic, very… clinical. I guess it’s to keep up with the rest of the appearance of this being an ‘institute’. Her white desk and large office chair sat at one end of the room, with a couple of personal effects in the corner of the desk next to her mobile phone. In the other corner of the desk stood a touch-screen monitor that was currently on standby. Behind us was an enormous portrait of the complex from the outside. In the corner was a bookshelf full of books and textbooks. A large red rug spanned most of the centre of the room, adding the only bit of colour to this monochromatic office. And aside from the chair in the centre of the room facing us… that was it. I was expecting… more. “Aww sweetie…” She said to me, putting her hand to my cheek and cupping it slightly. Instinctively I pressed against her hand and felt a warm, comforting sensation fill my heart. “I’m sorry I missed out on our other one-on-ones this week, darling. I had a lot of business to attend to. Has Nanny been good to you?” “I… uh huh…” I replied nervously. Her posture, her face… even her smell made me feel weird around her. “Good. Can’t have my prize baby getting treated badly. I’m glad I assigned her to you, she seems to have a good head on her.” “She… she’s nice.” I replied. I don’t know why I was sticking up for our Nanny, but I guess she was kinda nice… “Oh good. And what’s your little roommate like?” The Headmistress asked, sounding genuinely interested. “Sarah? She’s… nice too.” “You have to tell me a bit more than that, sweetpea...” “I like her. She’s friendly and nice.” “And is she as good as you are?” “She… I think so, yeah.” “So, obviously you won’t remember the previous week and our previous one-on-ones, so let’s catch me up on how your lessons are going. Is Mr Smith doing a good job?” “Doing a good job at turning us into babies? Yeah.” “Are you enjoying your lessons?” She asked. “I… umm…” “Be honest.” “Uh huh…” I replied, feeling like I had to tell the truth. Or at least the truth she wanted to hear. “You don’t sound so sure.” “I… don’t like that he puts hypnosis in our heads that can make us… you know…” “Oh, the thing I just saved you from?” “...Yeah.” I mumbled. “I think it’s cute. I would have liked to have seen you hump your roommates nappy…” She grinned down at me. I blushed and looked away from her face, but ended up catching myself staring at her rather large breasts that her open blouse was making very obvious. “I…” “Don’t worry, I’ll feed you in a bit. Just need to finish these questions and then I can feed you. Then I’ll get you back to class. I wish I could keep you here for longer, but you need to be in your classes.” I snapped back to my senses and looked up at her. “Why… Why hypnosis?” I asked. “Why not just force us to be babies? The injections make us helpless as it is… Or why not just hypnotise us the whole way?” “Because I don’t want mind-controlled babies, sweetheart. And I don’t want little brats who will make our client’s lives difficult. I want babies that slowly accept their place and actually enjoy it.” “I… guess that makes sense.” I replied. “So are the other babies following your excellent example?” “I… some of them are playing, yeah.” “Such a good girl! And you did that all by yourself too, I didn’t have a single part in you doing that!” She said, making the butterflies in my tummy happy again. “Is that it? No more questions?” I asked, nervously. “Does Nanny Alice ask you anything else? She’s had you the past few days whilst I’ve been busy, I want to make sure she’s doing her job.” “Umm… I don’t think so.” “How about you? Do you have any questions for me?” “Umm… do you know what this ‘special punishment’ is?” I asked, hoping she’d answer. Her face turned serious all of a sudden. “And who is punishing you?” She asked, sternly… as if she was ready to murder someone. “Oh… no one… yet.” “Oh good. Wait, yet?” “Mr Smith… he put us in teams. I’m on the Red Team with Sarah and another couple of girls. Over the week we earn points at the end of each day, basically for acting like the best babies. We… are winning.” “Good girl!” She smiled. “If we win, we get special privileges next week. The losing team gets a special punishment.” “Is that so…?” She trailed off. “If I know Mr Smith… and I really do… that is going to be a punishment you definitely don’t want.” She said, winking at me. “I mean if he forcefully made Sarah and Brian… you know… yeah, I think you’re right.” I replied. I felt like I could talk with her like this forever. The way she talks, her smile… I was smitten. “Oh, before I forget, you need to do a couple of tests for me, sweetpea. Just basic English and Maths to make sure you’re progressing well. Why don’t you turn and do them on my desk whilst I brush your hair?” The Headmistress suggested. “I… guess…” “Good girl.” She said, slowly turning me around on her lap, placing a familiar test and a pencil in front of me. “And then we’ll get you some lunch and back in your class.” I blushed at the thought of nursing from her. Not going to lie… it definitely made the test harder to complete when I couldn’t concentrate. “Good job, babygirl!” She said, turning me back around once I had finished. The hairbrushing whilst I was completing the test… was nice. I always loved having my hair brushed. But now it was time. Time for… lunch. Positioning me gently in her arms, my legs hanging over the edge of the chair arm, she held my head close to her breast as she undid the few remaining buttons on her blouse and began to nurse me. I was used to the milk by now, but it still… OKAY FINE, IT FELT GOOD! I’ll admit it! I loved it! Happily nursing on her breasts, I lost myself again and drifted off into my own little happy headspace as time passed and my nappy grew thicker… and warmer… and wetter. “D’aww, I’ll definitely have to change you before getting you to class… actually, no! I think it’ll be cuter if you go back with your soaked nappy.” The Headmistress laughed. I blushed at her decision, but I continued nursing and pushed everything that the past week and a half had thrown at us to the back of my mind. After ‘lunch’, I was swiftly returned to class, with a quick kiss on the cheek by the Headmistress, followed up with a quick pat on my padded bum as I waddled into the classroom and fell over, my fall softened by the plush carpet. Once the Headmistress left, I looked around at a class full of embarrassed adults, all in soggy nappies… looking exhausted. “Oh hello little Judy. You just missed out.” Mr Smith said, looking directly at me. ‘Damn…’ I thought to myself. I hadn’t had any action since before we arrived, so part of me wanted to be included. “Though I guess little Sarah could go again…” He grinned. Sarah, exhausted already, looked up at Mr Smith, then at me, with her eyes wide open in shock. Shaking her head, she was just about to plead as Mr Smith opened his mouth. “Sarah, Judy… happy time…” Day 5 Okay so yesterday really changed things between me and Sarah. After Mr Smith… made us rub our nappies together… I’m not gonna lie, it was awkward. We kept our distance a bit for the rest of the day, until that evening, when we were alone in our crib together… and she grabbed my hand and squeezed it. We edged our bodies closer together, feeling the warmth of one another as our faces lay next to each other, our noses touching. It was then… that she took the initiative and kissed me. Like… actually kissed me. In this bleak situation, being kidnapped and regressed and humiliated… having something slightly normal felt even better than it used to. She quickly retracted and blushed, but before she could backtrack on this and start doubting everything, I quickly pressed my lips against hers and kissed her back. And for the remainder of the night, we snuggled happily together, trying desperately to push everything that was going on around us to the back of our minds so we could enjoy it. I woke up to yet another wet nappy, and a sleeping Sarah with her head lay on my shoulder, sucking her dummy and drooling slightly. “D’aww, she’s adorable!” Alice said, bending down over the crib. “I’ll leave you two for a bit longer, there's no rush today, it’s still early.” I thanked Alice and rested my head on Sarah’s, stroking her hair, enjoying this time we had together. So yes… Day 5. Painting! They brought out a bunch of paper and laid it all out on the floor, and gave us access to lots of paint. Problem was… we weren’t given brushes. At first everyone was looking around, trying to find the brushes. But it wasn’t until I slapped my hand in the yellow paint and then on the paper on the floor that people realised what we were expected to do. Sarah quickly followed suit and dipped her hand in the red paint, before slapping it down on the paper next to where my handprint was. Slowly but surely, more people joined in and started enjoying themselves. Even Brian, the grumpy gus, joined in and looked like he was actually enjoying himself. At one point I tapped the tip of Sarah’s nose, putting a red dot of paint on it. She smiled and retaliated by rubbing her nose against the side of my face… and before you knew it… a paint fight erupted. The nannies didn’t stop us, neither did Mr Smith. They just watched and smiled, though Brian flicked some paint towards Mr Smith, which earned him a spanking. We made sure to keep our paint fight contained to ourselves, as we now knew what would happen if we tried getting any on the grown ups. It was a lot of fun… until I freaked out a bit when I knocked over a paint pot onto part of the carpet that wasn’t covered up. I tried rubbing it out but it got worse and worse, seeping into the fibres and spreading around more. When a Nanny, whose name I had no knowledge of, came over to see what had happened, I… may have blamed it on someone else. I didn’t name names or anything, I just said it must have been someone else. Thankfully that seemed to work, I got out of a spanking and no one else got punished for it. And then once we were all tuckered out, we were taken out of the room by our Nannies. Sarah and I were taken by Alice to a small room we had never entered before. Turns out… It was a bathroom. With a bath big enough for two grown adults. So you can see where this is going… sitting there, naked, alongside Sarah, who was also naked… It was awkward. At least it was with Alice still kneeling there by the side of the bath. If only she’d bugger off for a bit… maybe I’d get some action. But no, Alice washed us carefully, making sure to get all the paint out of our hair and off our faces. Draining the tub, she wrapped us up in a big towel and lifted us up one at a time, placing us on the changing table inside the bathroom, before proceeding to put us in a really thick nappy. The rest of the day? We spent it playing in the playpen, followed by another one-on-one with the Headmistress, which went exactly how it did yesterday, before being put in the crib with Sarah, the two of us snuggling even closer than previously. Day 6 One more day of this and then we get reverted back to our normal speech and we get more control of our bodies. And maaaybe this need to suckle everything put in my mouth will go. It was getting annoying now. But yes. Day six was another day of playing in the classroom. Followed by yet another one-on-one. Whilst I was off with the Headmistress, Alice went off somewhere with Sarah. I wondered if Sarah was having the same questions and the same treatment as I was. Day 7 Freedom! Finally! After the past 6 days, we all knew that we had to appreciate this ‘adult’ time we were given. Even if we were still treated like babies and wore babyish clothes and thick nappies… we were at least given some freedom and all the hypnosis and whatever they pumped into us was erased. Well, everything but the incontinence. That apparently wasn’t going away. So after we had the shots and the flash of hypnosis by the nurse, Sarah and I were pushed towards the play room. I wondered what they were going to humiliate us with this time, as we had been fully conscious all week, unlike the newborn week. I guess there was that day Mr Smith made us hump each other in wet nappies. That would be pretty bad. But no, instead we passed the playroom and carried on further into the complex, towards the classroom. Sarah and I looked at each other in confusion as Alice continued walking, not explaining what was going on or anything, as she reached the classroom door and pushed it open. “Ah, our final two. Right, Alice, if you would be so kind, just place them on the floor for the announcement.” Mr Smith said, standing in front of his desk, leaning back against it with his bum resting on the edge, his arms crossed and his sleeves rolled up showing his very hairy arms. “Yes Mr Smith.” Alice replied, unbuckling us from the stroller and lifting us out, Sarah first then me, and placing us on the floor with the others. We sat patiently as Alice walked out with the stroller, leaving us all alone with Mr Smith. I held out my hand to Sarah, who clutched it and began squeezing it. “So… I bet you’re all wondering which team won…” He grinned. ========================================================= 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 four chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of LETO Syndicate 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!

"Is it true blondes have more fun?"

Finally changed out of my dirty nappy (very thoroughly cleaned and creamed hehe) but wish I could have kept it on longer! I did two big poos in it, one on the firmer side but still pliable (and very fun for bouncing on) and one very soft mushy one, which got smushed up and filled the back of my nappy. It was the biggest poo I have ever done in a nappy or in my knickers. I stayed in it for 7 hours, waddling around, doing farts and wees on top of my mess, sitting in it and smooshing it, doing little bounces on my big pooey mound, humping a body pillow and humping the pile of poo. Super smelly but I actually found that hot for once. When i took my dirty nappy off, there was a big ball of poo in the seat of the nappy and smushed up the back, which about the size of two apples and then a big fat log the size of a banana (haha with the fruit references) that had pushed down the front and filled the gusset. This was the poo I had been humping. By far my fullest, messiest, smelliest nappy (or knickers!) to date but also the first one where clean up actually felt worth it. Definitely a mess I will remember for a long time!

I haven't been much of a video game player. Some years ago, I received a Christmas gift of Sid Meier's Civilization II. That shows you how long it has been since that game is no longer supported. I think the game is up to VI now. My latest interest is Hogwarts Legacy. I've been a huge Harry Potter fan for a number of years, though I did sort of show up late for the ball. Anybody else play that game? How are you doing? Me, I'm finding out just how bad my combat skills (read keyboard manipulation in the dark) really are after having some early successes. Next week I'll have the house to myself for a couple of days. I'm planning on a marathon diapered game playing session. That'll be fun!

Change me.

I am wearing a wet and messy tykables overnight diaper. Will definitely be getting my diaper changed soon.

My diaper would say "SHEEE-IT what a mess!"

I’m in a thoroughly soaked, formerly white Megamax which I am currently wetting for the fourth time. It’s very squishy and it feels like a good diaper should (warm, wet and squishy). I’m hoping it’ll last long enough for me to poop in it before I have to go home for a diaper change. Update: I did poop in my diaper but when I peed after I pooped in it it leaked all over my jeans (it took about 3 seconds of me peeing before it started leaking, so I beelined out of the mall and headed for my car and by the time I got there my inner legs were completely soaked as well as my entire crotch so I drove home and as soon as mommy saw me she took me to the bedroom for a much needed diaper change.

Yeah, the Empathy Center and crazy mom plot line is from your suggestions. They’ll be back in the story, trust me. Maturosis is as real as it’s allowed to be. It’s in the Amazon textbooks after all. No self-destruction for Kay. He’s a survivor. He’s been through this kind of thing before, and he’ll get out on the other side. At least he thinks he will. Who knows? The Amazons could be right about this Betweener. Maybe he’s a little more like a Little than a Big, and if he’s struggling at school and relationships, maybe he’s been in the wrong place. —— Okay. Sorry for the long wait, life sometimes gets in the way of writing. About Maturosis: I consider this work “fan fiction” on the term. I add my own thoughts to this borrowed terminology, which may not be the same as in other works. Thanks for reading! And thanks for questions and comments! ….. 9 “So… let me get this straight… my brain thinks that I’m a baby?” Despite just peeing his pants, Kaleb felt a wry smile spread across his lips, his innate cynicism was all he had left in this place of madness. “That’s ridiculous,” he made his case to the two Amazons. “100%, totally, ridiculous.” Layla returned his smile like a boomerang, albeit hers was a bit more cruel. “Almost as ridiculous as an eighteen year old who can’t get to the potty on time.” Oh, sweet stepsis was going to use this against him for a very long time, Kaleb was sure of that. He stood awkwardly in the hall as the wetness at his crotch began cool. As the two Amazons waited for him to finish asking questions before they got on with ‘babying’ him, but he wasn’t finished yet. “I would have made it to the ‘toilet’ if I wasn’t being chased,” he corrected his stepsister. “If I wasn’t forced to hold it forever. If I wasn’t trapped in little-locked footie pajamas. I wouldn’t be dealing with any of this if I didn’t agree to this ridiculous test in the first place.” “You didn’t have to hold it forever,” replied Layla. “You only had to hold it for a little bit, even toddlers can hold it for a little bit. Besides, we wanted to help you get to the potty, remember. Unfortunately, potty problems are a big part of Maturosis, so you can’t be too mad at yourself.” “I’m not mad at myself,” he snapped. “I’m mad at you.” Layla glared at him, his stepsister was losing her usual patience. “Alright, Kay-Kay. I’m going to pretend that’s your condition talking, so I won’t recommend starting punishment phase one of the cushioning test. I believe it comes with a “Quiet Time” pacifier, it really has a way of keeping sassy mouths shut.” “Come on!” Kaleb raised his hands in the name of self-defense. “I’m just trying to learn more about my condition. It’s called Maturosis, right? Like from the Cushioning test and your textbook?” “That about sums it up,” replied Layla, she was ready to move onto bigger and better things. “Any more questions?” Kaleb folded his arms across his chest, unmoved. “Can Amazons get Maturosis?” Beckie answered this time. “No, that’s impossible.” He asked, “Why?” “It’s very simple,” answered Layla. “Our neuroscience is different, but you’re too Little to understand the differences, so I’m not going to waste our time teaching you. Besides, you’re in serious need of a bath — and something better in terms of protection.” Kaleb remained unconvinced, and since a forced diapering seemed to be on the horizon, he felt whatever fight still within him bubble up again. “That’s way too convenient to be believable. You’ve always wanted to treat me like a baby, ever since our parents married. Now, I’ve suddenly got some invisible mental disease with symptoms straight from your textbook, and the only solutions have been your designs on me from day one.” Beckie sighed. “You’re paranoid, Kay.” Unable to say it any better, Layla offered him a cheeky smirk before turning her attention from her stepbrother to her lab assistant. “Beckie, I’m going to leave you to give him his bath. I’ll set up everything you need afterwards in his room. There will be an Escalated detector-protector as well as some new clothes more fitting the social emotional level. We need more data on his ideal wardrobe level, maybe that will slow the descent. Try to remember that the test isn’t over so we’re still following protocol.” Her friend winked back. “Got it, chief.” Now that his objections had been rejected, Beckie gripped him by his forearm and began to drag him the short trip towards the bathroom. The cheerleader was strong enough to take him anywhere she wanted, but he was still trying to be ‘unmoved’. Kaleb dug his monkey feet into the carpet and turned to see his stepsister enter his bedroom. He may have been mistaken, but he thought he saw her pull a very diaper-y looking folded disposable from the diaper bag. “Hey, wait…” Kaleb began to panic. “This is way too convenient!” He anchored himself the best that he could, turning and twisting towards his bedroom, trying to see what his stepsister was doing. “Too convenient!” he yelled again over his shoulder. “Come up with something better at least! Something believable!” “Okay…” Beckie repositioned herself in front of him. “I didn’t want to do this… but you’ve left me no choice.” In a flash, Beckie dropped to one knee and snaked both of her arms around his legs, tackling him at the waist. The Amazon dipped her body as she made contact, her shoulders pressed into his belly, prying him up from the floor, and lifting him up over her shoulder in one continuous motion. “Help! Ahhh! Stop!” Kaleb yelled at the top of his lungs as he rose from the ground, kicking and screaming. “Put me down! Put me down! Put me down!” “Alright, you little stinker,” Beckie said as she fought his flailing attempts to escape. “We got to take a bath and take off that yucky pull-up. So what do you say, soggy britches?” He growled at her, “I’d say that you should put me down.” Kaleb pushed at her with both hands, but she was far too strong for him. Beckie booped his nose with her own, almost like cute kiss without involving the lips. She wiggled her finger in front of his face as she taunted him. “No can do, baby,” Beckie said softly. When they entered the bathroom, Beckie placed a scowling Kaleb atop the sink counter, and left him there to watch, as she closed the door to the hall and turned the knobs to the Amazon sized bathtub. Soon the air was filled with rising steam and the shrill whistling of hot water leaving the tap. The bathroom was mostly white with tiny square tiles for flooring, the wallpaper was blend of sunflowers, and other kinds of various flowers, mixed with the occasional bee or butterfly. The decor was old and came with the house, but no one took the time to upgrade the kid's space. Neither Kaleb or Layla complained about the amenities, the huge bathtub on the far wall worked perfectly for the two of them. The small room was the perfect spot for a waiting game. Beckie used the time to catch her breath, so Kaleb did the same. The moment was like a break between rounds of a boxing match, so far Kaleb seemed to be losing, but he hadn’t had a ten count yet. Or that’s what he told himself. He kept a one close eye on the Amazon, the other darting between the tub and the door, just waiting for what would happen next. The tiny room felt emptier than usual. Colder among the tiles, darker in every corner; and all the while, the warm water in the tub rose higher and higher. When it got high enough, Beckie turned the knob again, and checked the temperature with her hand. Then she smiled. “Let’s get you out of those icky boy pajamas and get you nice, and fresh, and clean.” Kaleb thought about irony as she undressed him. He passively resisted the whole way like he always did. Kaleb arched his back, repeatedly told her to ‘stop’, and extended both hands and feet like an octopus with rigor mortis. Of course, he recognized the silliness of all the charade, he was going to be naked whether he wanted to be or not. Just five minutes ago, as he blissfully sat on Beckie’s ample lap doing two tests at the same time, he would have done anything to get out the monkey footsie. Now, he was doing his ‘darnedest’ to keep the pajamas on his body. That’s Irony with a capital ‘I’. The way she worked him out of his clothing was almost impressive, if it wasn’t so scary. Beckie flipped him around and unzipped the researched based pajamas, then she freed his arms and yanked out his legs. One hand wrapped tightly around his wrist so he couldn’t escape, while the other shot straight for the waistline of his soggy DP. “Wow…” she said as she thumbed at the padding of the choo-choo pull-up. “You really soaked this thing, Kay.” And before he could say - ‘No, don’t’, she had ripped them free from his hips. Now that its job was done, the day one detector-protector was wrapped into a thick wet ball, and deposited inside the small trash can that hid behind the toilet. Kaleb was now naked. And in front of a girl. His bare chest was red from exertion and shame, same with his face, every part of him flushed. A full body blush blossomed as Beckie eyed him up and down. The happy-go-lucky Amazon cheerleader let her gaze do the talking, more like walking, as she took her time giving him a go-over. Kaleb was a bit self-conscious of her roaming eyes, where they lingered, where they circled the slight curves of his body. Beckie chided him, “Did you know that covering nakedness is a sign of Maturosis?” He looked down at the his hands cupped over his most private of places, still unmoved. Kaleb glowered at the Amazon. “It would be, wouldn’t it?” Beckie toyed with the small canvas bag that was the same color as the other Cushioning test bag, a mix of shale grey and shame. Kaleb assumed it was for his bath, and he was right. She opened the zipper and pulled free three different bottles of shampoo and liquid soap, all childish, all claiming to be tear free, all colorful and plastic. “You don’t have to believe me,” Beckie said with a shrug. “The behavior has something to do with potty anxiety and the inability to cope with a diapered state. We haven’t got to that part in class yet, but I like to read ahead like Layla.” “I don’t care what your textbook says,” he said, then he twisted his body away from her prying eyes. “Well, you should.” Beckie silently read the backs of a few the bottles, and began lining them up alongside the tub. “It may be able to tell you things about yourself. If I happened to be in trouble, or had a condition, I’d like to know what was going to happen to me.” She paused for effect. “But that’s just me.” Despite his mental objections, and there were plenty, Beckie made a decent point. If this Maturosis was going to be used against him, he would do himself a favor by learning its ‘ins and outs’. “Fine… fine… tell me how wrong I was born,” he said with a huff. “Make sure to leave in the good parts so I know just how messed up I am. It will be a perfect cherry on a sundae kind of day.” “You’re something special, Kaleb, you really are,” Beckie chuckled as she finished prepping her washing station. “You literally have a cheerleader wanting to see you naked, and you keep covering yourself up. You have no idea how many boys send pictures of their things to me — unsolicited, I might add.” Kaleb swallowed hard, his usual bashful nature presented itself within the palpitations of his heart, he couldn’t believe he was having this conversation at this moment. “I didn’t think that I was your ‘dating type’. I’m a Betweener, remember? I’m smaller than your average boyfriend.” “Well…” Beckie drew out her words, then dipped her delicate fingers into the warm tub. “How could I see you as dating material if you don’t even see yourself that way?” “I’m going to need an explanation,” Kaleb said as he felt the cold room seep into him. “I’ll give you one,” Beckie said as she flicked warm water onto his bare chest. “But first, I’m going to need cooperation. Remove the hands, then get in the bath, and we can talk.” Talk? All they did was talk. He was naked, and cold, and shivering. The world around him was topsy-turvy, as if the globe decided to spin at twice the speed and in the opposite direction, and all she wanted to do was talk. To make things worse, Beckie’s eyes kept glancing at spots they shouldn’t glance at, forcing him to hide himself with both hands. This was a bad place to be, and Kaleb had no clue how to get out. He looked back at her with wide eyes, still unmoved. “Remove the hands, Kay,” Beckie ordered with a soft voice. “Just leave them by your side, there’s no shame in being naked — that’s your Maturosis lying to you.” Surprisingly, he did what he was told. Maybe it was the mentioning of that Maturosis word. He brought his shaking hands from his crotch, bringing them to his hips with fists clenched, but he still refused to meet eyes with Beckie. Especially since she ogled his naked body like he was an unwrapped present just ready to be re-wrapped in thicker underwear. What exactly did she see in him? Kaleb was a mostly skinny Tweener. Not broad chested and square shouldered like his Big father. He was lean but not lanky, short but not a Little, more feminine and delicate than masculine and strong; but he kept his girly aspects hidden by being dirty and grimy, with baggy jeans and black t-shirts and an ‘unstyled’ mop of dark hair that just sat on his head. Speaking of hair, he had some body hair in the usual places. Unlike the Littles, they tended to be hairless around the diaper parts, almost as if they were bred that way. At least that’s how he saw them when they were changed in public, he had tried not to look or stare, it was sorta rude after all. But as they lay legs spread during a diaper change, skirt lifted up or pants pulled down, it was hard not to sneak a glance. As for Kaleb, there were thick patches of dark curls beneath his arms, at his crotch, a small path traveling to his navel, and a smattering at the butt crack. Not much hairiness on his chest, however. Which was fine, because a hairy chest was very out of fashion and had been for awhile. And Beckie saw every bit of everything. “I don’t think I like the body hair,” concluded the pixie cheerleader. “It’s kinda yucky, but everything else is nice. Very nice. Hop in the tub.” Kaleb felt his mouth dry. “But…” “No buts!” Beckie giggled and brought out a large empty plastic cup. “No buts except your cute butt in the bathtub.” For some reason he complied, maybe he was just tired of fighting, maybe he was ready for it all to end. Maybe it could all be blamed on the invisible sponge. Either way, Kaleb found himself moving as if driven by someone else. He lifted one leg into the tub, then the other, then he plopped his butt right into the waist deep water. The hot bath felt nice, he was still shivering, just not as much as as before. At least Beckie appeared pleased with his cooperation, even while he sat cross-cross applesauce with a permanent frown on his face. “We will do your hair first,” she said as she prepared one of the bottles, “then we will do a nice body wash. I think you’ll like the soft scrubbing, everyone loves being pampered.” “Okay…” Kaleb’s voice sounded tired and gravelly, a reflection of his rough night and rougher morning. “You said that you’d explain things to me?” Beckie grimly nodded as she dunked the large plastic cup into the bath and brought it out to the sound of slushing water. “Yes, but first, lift your head back for me, and stare at the ceiling — cup.” The sudden rush of water over his head was quite the experience. Strangely both hot and cold, comforting and exciting, dreadful and demeaning, all at once. Kaleb was panting from the experience, bathwater dripped from his longer hair and nose, and he shook his head like a dog as he recovered. “Alright, Kaleb… let’s answer some of your questions,” Beckie said as she reloaded her dumping cup. “Maturosis manifests itself in different ways. It can be gradual, it can be immediate, it can be inherited, and it can be adopted. Cup.” Another hot flash of warm water rocked over him, long strands of his hair ‘plastered’ over his eyes, he raked them free as he choked upon the bathwater that got into his mouth. Beckie scolded him, “I told you to lift your head back. Cup.” Another pour came, he quickly lifted his chin skyward, and this time the water cascaded down the back of his neck. “You know what a downward spiral is, Kay?” Kaleb nodded, trickles and droplets ran down his face. “That’s Maturosis — a process that takes Littles, and sometimes recessive Betweeners, backwards in time. Not physically, of course. Mentally. A mental downward spiral that can also be called Regression. Cup.” Water kept coming, but he kept focused on her words. “So, Maturosis is a downward spiral,” Beckie continued to explain as she put aside her plastic cup. “And a social-emotional level is a flat line between proper behavior at an appropriate age. When it’s aligned against a diagnosis of Maturosis, it represents a kind of strata similar to a plateau.” “I’m not good at geography,” Kaleb muttered, then licked a few droplets from his lips. Beckie giggled. “You don’t have to be — you’re good at being cute.” The way she smiled at him gave him butterflies despite all of this ‘downward spiral’ topic of conversation. “Maturosis isn’t like other conditions, there are countless nuances, and each case may be different than the next. There are so many reasons for Littles to end up back in diapers. You see, Kay, that’s the problem: You’re fifty-percent Little. Like it or not, it’s important that you learn to control your Little emotions, your childish tendencies, your potty habits. Otherwise, you’re going to end up in their same kind of trouble. That’s the first step in understanding how a social emotional levels work, recognizing your problematic Little-side.” For the first time in a long time, Kaleb paid attention to her textbook talk, mostly because it sounded super important. It was brain science like with the Beta-Alpha-Beta-Upsilon wave readers, it was inside of him like an imaginary canoe ride, it was an explanation for the invisible magic sponge of potential energy. He closed his eyes to bring it all into focus. Thinking about Maturosis was like navigating a maze inside his head. Every time he thought he could find a way out, he found himself surrounded by logical walls. “I still have some questions…” Kaleb said as he heard the patented ‘squirt, squirt’ from the shampoo bottle. Beckie rubbed her hands together, making them all foamy. “Shoot, baby.” With the water finally free from his red eyes, Kaleb looked deep into Beckie, he really needed to know something, so it was time to ask. “Is Maturosis even real?” “Of course it is,” Beckie answered with a beaming smile. “It’s in our textbook.” “I mean,” he said as he watched her closely. “Outside of your text book, in the real world, the place where I live.” “You know what,” she said as her foamy hands reached for the top of his head. “You do way too much thinking. Thinking leads to worrying. Let others do the thinking for you.” Kaleb opened his mouth to object, but her hands were already in his hair. As soon as she made contact, things began to change. Her fingers gently pushed the bad thoughts from his brain and made the walls melt away. Beckie had total control over him; he was a puppet, and those soul-touching scrubbers were the strings. “That’s it, Kay,” Beckie encouraged him with a soft voice. “Try to relax baby, it’s time for you to be pampered. Everyone loves being pampered, and not just Littles.” Her soft touch paralyzed him, but in a good way. The delightful experience sucked whatever argument, or question, or logical reasoning, out of his head via her curling fingers. As she spread the tear-free shampoo across his scalp, Beckie made sure to scratch and massage every bit of his sensitive head. This kind of pampering was sublime, and every bit as intoxicating as her candy perfume. All he could say was, “Ohhhh…” Which made Beckie giggle. “I knew you’d like this, Kay. Stop thinking, start feeling. See where that takes you.” Suddenly, he was transported back in that canoe, this time surrounded by real water. He soaked in the gentle lapping sounds of the lake, he closed his eyes and let the daydream take him deeper, like a psychological cushioning whirlpool that dragged him to relaxing depths he’d never experienced before. The liquid soap smelled like lavender and inner peace, popping pink bubbles rose to the surface of the tub. Next to him, a short-haired mermaid appeared, half-dipped in the water. She was naked except for a pair of sea shells that covered her bountiful breasts, her skin shimmering pale, her eyes dancing radiant. She slowly moved him onto his back, where he floated with ease, uncaring about his nakedness on display. The mermaid rubbed liquid soap on his arms, and legs, running her fingers like a pair of rakes over his chest. Every word from her mouth came out as a soft coo, or gentle encouragement. He was doing so good — the mermaid told him so. “That’s so good, baby.” “Stay still while I clean you up.” “You’re so precious when you’re like this.” Beckie paid extra close attention to his diaper area, soaping up his inner thighs, especially lathering up his special spot between his legs. With a cupped hand, she made sure he was extra clean down there, and Kaleb responded accordingly. Being extra clean felt really, really nice. Then she turned him over, and he was on his hands and knees, almost in a position to crawl away. But he didn’t want to move a muscle, he was drawn tight into this bath like it was a magnet. A natural attraction that lulled him deeper and deeper into sensations altogether too relaxing, or too disarming, and he didn’t even care. Beckie lathered up a pair of fingers and traced them down his spine, sliding them along his exposed bottom. It tickled, in a good way of course. “We need to make sure you’re extra clean back here,” she giggled as she rubbed. Who was he to argue with her? Every spot that she touched made him feel so sensitive. His skin was on fire, not a burning, but delightful, sensational feeling-explosion. The combination of her delicate touch, and the perfect temp water, had his eyes rolling in the back of his head. This bath thing was amazing, the experience was enough to make him forget about everything: the experiment, his stepsister, the fact that he’d just peed his pants minutes before. This relaxing bath was just what he needed, and he strangely felt disappointed when the plastic cup remade its appearance as Beckie finished washing his hair. “Cup. There we go, baby. Again, cup. Now you’re all nice and clean. Was that worth all of the fuss?” Kaleb gently shook his head, his eyes still tightly closed. “It felt nice, actually.” “See what I mean?” Beckie said as she prepped a towel with one hand and pulled him to his feet with the other. “It’s not so bad having someone take care of you, is it?” “No…” Kaleb grimaced as he came to the same conclusion. “It’s not that bad.” The soft pink towel she wrapped around him was one of Layla’s, and it dwarfed him just like his dad’s big chair. He opened his eyes to his surroundings, unsure how long he was in the bath, unsure about a lot of things that had just happened. The bathroom looked the same, boring and poorly decorated. Beckie looked the same, smiling from ear to ear, and judging from her giddiness, barely containing her patented wide-eyed ‘cute aggression’. Kaleb looked down at his own body, which did not look the same, because something felt off, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on the difference. He studied his arms and his chest as Beckie gave him a nice and soft towel scrub. He still couldn’t figure it out. Did he shrink? No. He was the same size, unless the room shrank with him. Kaleb still had two arms and two legs, a pair of blinking, working eyes, and he could wiggle all ten fingers and curl all ten toes. So what made him feel so weird? His question was answered when Beckie pulled the towel away from his exposed front, and with one look down at his special place, he immediately spotted the difference. Kaleb gasped. “What happened to my hair?” Beckie kept rubbing the terry cloth towel in circles at his lower back. “What was that?” “My hair!” he stared at the horror show hanging limp between his legs, frozen from the shock. “Oh that! I styled it with some conditioner,” Beckie began humming, working the towel along his backside. “It was just a nasty mop on top of your head, so I made it look nice and clean, just like this cute, wittle shiny heinie.” “Not the hair up there,” Kaleb indicated towards his bare crotch. “The hair down here! My arms! My legs! I look like a Little!” Beckie clicked her lips, mocking him with a pushy lipped pout. “Quit your complaining, sour-puss. It was all yucky from your pee-pee accident. You don’t get to wet your pants and call the shots, mister.” Beckie thumbed at his nose as he glared at her. “Plus, I think it looks much better this way. You clean up real nice, Kay.” “Is this permanent?” he had to ask. “You can’t just do this to people without telling them.” “I’m not exactly sure,” answered Beckie. “I think it says something about lasting for a month or so on the bottle. I don’t know what you’re upset about, I told you ‘it’ looks better this way.” Kaleb ignored her wonton smile and covered himself with his right hand. He didn’t care if it was ‘yucky from pee-pee’. His left hand shot behind him to check the damage, tracing along his crack with a tentative finger. It was the same story back there, his butt was as smooth as a baby’s bottom. All the while, his Amazon companion watched every move with happy curiosity. “That’s so your bottom won’t be yucky from poo-poos,” explained Beckie. “You’ll thank me later, trust me.” This wasn’t happening. Kaleb’s mouth was having a hard time getting out his words. His brain was grasping for understanding, but it all slipped between his fingers like many bits of confusing sand. “No! I’m not going to thank you later,” he raised his voice. “Because I don’t do ‘poo-poos’ on myself!” Yeah, he even felt childish having to make the clarifying statement, but that kind of insinuation required quick addressing. “Not right now you don’t, but that can change in a heartbeat.” Beckie ruffled the towel across his hair and his ears and neck, ignoring his scowl the entire way. “Just yesterday you weren’t wetting your pants, either. Maturosis can be rapidly on-setting, and it’s best to be prepared. We will talk more about this in your room.” He slapped a palm to his forehead, this was all so freaking useless. Kaleb knew just what was waiting for him in his room: the altogether-too-convenient disposable diaper. Still, he had to pick his battles, and this was one he had to fight at the moment. Something about losing his body hair that was yet another step to far, he had to find a way to stick this weekend in reverse. His temples thundered as he managed to squeak, “Put it back!” “Put what back?” she echoed, she brought the towel across his face before he shrugged it away. “My body hair,” he said as his voice shook. “Give me back my hair! I want it back!” The cheerleader chuckled. “I don’t think it works that way, sweetie.” “You took it from me!” he howled right in the Amazon’s ear. “This tantrum is going to get you nowhere, Kay. This kind of childishness is exactly what your wave readers are for, I bet you’re dropping a social emotional level at this very moment. Don’t let your Maturosis get the best of you.” It was no use. No point. No nothing. He gritted his teeth and rocked in place, there was nothing he could do, nothing he could come up with. There was no answer to so much insinuation. When she was done drying him, Beckie wrapped the pink towel around his waist like a skirt. She then put both her hands on his shoulders and marched him to the mirror over the basin. As she ran her hands through the black hair atop his head, she told him about the special conditioner, how his hair now had volume and it was ‘feathery’. She explained that the formula protected his hair from the other Little bath products, that if she didn’t do it right he could’ve been as bald as a baby. She did all of that without noticing the terror in his eyes. Kaleb eyed his reflection, his hair no longer a ‘mop’, appearing more pulled back and longer, somewhat like a male model from a barber’s catalog. He looked younger, brighter, like an improved version of himself; but at what cost? He evaluated his sensitive hairless arms one at a time, it made his entire body feel different, like even the air made his skin tickle. Kaleb turned towards the loudly draining bathtub where he expected to see the run off of his curly black body hairs, but there was nothing, no proof of him having body hair at all. Poof, gone, more Amazon magic. Beckie beamed at him. “What do you think?” “I don’t know…” he closed his eyes unable to take in anymore. “I was told not to think…” “Good boy.” Beckie planted a kiss on his cheek as she got out a hairbrush. “Now let’s get you all handsome, then we can get you padded and dressed. There’s so much more Cushioning test to do.” Things were only going to get worse from here.

I usually play video games on my laptop or smartphone. I have a Nintendo Switch, but I have not played it in a while. My favorite games are mainly RPG and Strategy video games. Some of my favorite video games that I play sometimes are Magic: the Gathering Online, Legacy of the Beast, Knights of Pen and Paper 2, and various games in the Pokémon series.

Yep. What Happens to Naughty Girls By SallyKA.rtf

Me, I've been playing Callisto protocol. I like it pretty well, but there are some issues with it. Mostly with combat and lack of exploration. It's mostly just going from point A to point B to install fuses and the close quarters combat doesn't work very well when you have multiple enemies. And I absolutely hate the dodging mechanic, especially when you're fighting two heads and the final boss in the game. Other than that, the graphics are pretty good and stuff I just wish the dodging mechanic could be taken out of the game and some of the controls I don't like. I'm thinking I might move on to Evil West soon. I'm really looking forward to that game.😁😃♥️😏

Being an adult baby, I love spring and summer so much because I can get away with wearing just a diaper, t-shirt dress, dress and Skirt on. Plus in the summer, diapers are mu shorts as well.

Chapter 4: We're Waiting, Mr. Whittington The first book ended well, and though I was frustrated that they weren’t even at the camp we had excavated in the first place where we had found the chest full of the diaries, I was glad they had finally made land fall. ‘Maybe something more would be in the second or third book?’ “Mr. Whittington? Mr. Whittington? Bradley? Are you there?” Betty called out from the other end of the room where I had been reading. “Yes, Betty. Over here.” I waved my arm about from behind my stack of books so she could see from most areas of the dusty room. I heard the clacking of her heels get closer and she soon appeared in front of me, her hair neatly curled in the latest of fashions these days, though while still maintaining her innocent looks. If she hadn’t been married, I probably would have taken her out by now, but alas. “What is it, Betty?” “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Whittington, with your discoveries and reading and all, but…” “But what, Betty?” I asked impatiently. She looked uncomfortable and squirmed on the spot as if I was forcing her to say a dirty word in a nunnery. “The backers. They’re… they’re here.” “The backers? As in…?” “As in most of them. In the nearby smoking room. I placed them in there while I told them I would try and find you. I was going to make up an excuse over why you couldn’t see them, but I…” I stood up and stroked Betty’s quivering shoulder. “It’s okay, Betty. These things are bound to happen sooner or later. Can’t put them off forever.” Betty nodded and walked me out and through a few hallways to the university’s smoking room for staff. It was a small pretentious room that had been donated to the school years ago. Now though, mostly only important future donors or heads of projects would meet in there. ‘I guess it gave them a sense of superiority or importance or something like that.’ “Good luck, sir.” “Thank you, Betty.” I sighed and then pushed open the heavy wooden doors to the room. Inside, were seven men who I had grown accustomed to since I had first received their backing in Egypt. There were originally ten, but three had left at this point for other more fruitful and projects of ‘more substantial results and more frequent impacts,’ at least according to their own words. Mr. Hapsborough was the first to speak. He coughed from the stub of a cigar he held in his hands and then adjusted his tightly bound vest over his protruding gut. “Mr. Whittington… so good of you to join us. We were just discussing the results of your little project here. Or I guess I should lack of results.” “Yes, uh, well progress is slower than we anticipated, and the further journals we found are tedious, to say the least, to translate.” Their beady eyes just stared at me for a moment as if looking for a reason not to pull out right then. “But… we have found in the journals that they have now made it to land. The first of the four journals have been translated in its entirety. We expect to have the next translated soon.” “Hmmm,” Mr. Hilberforth, one of the few non-rotund figures in the room, spoke up. “Soon… a despicable word if ever.” “Yes,” Mr. Keeling, a red haired and balding figure, agreed. “Soon is relative, Mr. Whittington. We are all wealthy men here, but we did not achieve our greatness simply by relative terms. We have schedules to keep.” Mr. Hapsborough butted in after coughing and hacking for a moment. “And…” Cough! “Sending money to you is like tossing it in a hole and waiting for us to grab our money back when it gets to the top. As of right now, it’s still just a black hole.” “I can understand your all’s frustration, but progress has been made. As promised, we found the original book and the dig site of the expeditions camp. Now, it’s just a matter of time.” “A matter of time?” Mr. Keeling asked. “A matter of time… another relative term.” He shook his head and many of the other more silent backers grumbled in their frustrated agreement with him. “Let me ask a hypothetical… say you get to the end of the books, what makes you think they’ll lead you to the source?” His question froze my blood. I had nightmares about it since we had uncovered the journals at the dig site. The journals had been buried in a native stone chest, along with the other implements of the quest. Knowing the conquistadors never made it back to Spain, it was hard to guess what had actually happened. Disease? Devoured by the local wildlife? Native attacks? There were too many possibilities and not enough evidence for any outcome. “I’ve thought about that, Mr. Keeling.” The other backers leaned in. Apparently, it had been a question on many of their minds. “I have to have hope.” Many of the backers grumbled. “I know that isn’t something you can necessarily put your money behind, but we know two things. First, the journals weren’t burned and in fact were preserved in a chest, along with other items of the expedition. If other endings had occurred to their party, such as disease, these items would have been scattered and likely lost to time.” I scanned the room, and the backers were still looking at me intently in judgement, but I knew I at least hadn’t lost their attention, so I pushed on. “Secondly, the chest was buried. We can confirm that fact from our findings in the area, which means that it was either buried to be discovered again by the conquistadors themselves or buried as a means of hiding the truth by someone else. In either scenario, there is something more along this path we are all on. Cover up or success, and either is good for discovery. I just ask for your patience.” The backers murmured and bickered amongst themselves for a few good minutes. I stood as still as I could, not wanting to draw more attention to myself when the fate of the project seemed to be balancing on the edge of a knife. Finally, Mr. Hapsborough spoke up after taking a sip of water on the table, likely to prevent further coughing. “We admire your spit, Mr. Whittington… and your hope.” I smiled inwardly at the possibility of all this continuing still. “That being said, we backers are men of time. As such, you have three weeks to translate the other materials and find our water. After that, we will meet again but so you are aware, we will likely not renew our money agreements with you and leave this project.” I nodded at the gravity of the situation. Several years of work all boiled down to the next three weeks. In that time, I would either achieve my dreams or be cast into ruin. The other backers spoke briefly amongst themselves again and then started leaving the room. Soon, only a coughing Mr. Hapsborough remained. I approached the elderly obese figure and placed my hand on his shoulder. “Mr. Hapsborough, are you okay… Hey!” A man I only knew as Sam quickly lurched my hand away from Mr. Hapsborough’s shoulder, easily doing so with his tall stature over me and thick muscles. “Do not touch, Mr. Whittington. Never again,” he squeezed my hand tighter. “Understand?” I winced in pain. “Yes…” Sam then nodded and let my hand go. “I was just asking if he was okay…” I shook my hand out to relieve some of the pain. “I appreciate your concern, Mr. Whittington, but there’s nothing you can do for me right now. You see…” “Sir, please, no.” Sam begged. “He needs to know, particularly if things should go ill…” Mr. Hapsborough turned back to me. “You see, Mr. Whittington, I’m dying.” “You’re…” “Dying, yes. And something tells me that if that happens, Sam here will likely blame you. I don’t think you want that to happen…” I clutched my bruised hand and shook my head. “No, sir.” “Good. So, do us both a favor and find that damn water. If you don’t, if nothing else unseemly, I will be dead and my money will go elsewhere, and you will be ruined in your search. A testament, if you will, of failure in your field.” “Yes, sir. We’ll… double our efforts.” Mr. Hapsborough smiled crookedly, knowing his words had gotten under my skin. He gave me the extra motivation I thought I needed to make a discovery. “Good, I’ll be seeing you, Mr. Whittington.” He nodded his head and Sam guided him out of the room. I meandered back to lab, where Betty and Sat were waiting for me. Betty, however, was listening in on the phone and didn’t see me walk back in. “Yes? Yes? Oh my, thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you! Yes, goodbye!” She hung up the phone and squealed with excitement. “Good news, Betty?” I asked wearily. “Oh yes! I found out that I’m pregnant.” “Oh, my word!” Sat cried out, hugging her tenderly. “Congratulations, Betty! I’m sure Donald will be so happy.” “Donald, oh yes, I believe he will. We’ve been trying for so long now, ever since we got married in fact.” The two then looked at me. I was still in my daze over the increased timeline. Betty being pregnant was cause for celebration, but now, we had to work. “Congratulations, Betty…” Her face fell. She could always read me like a book. “What’s wrong, Mr. Whittington?” I realized I was casting a pallor over the room, but I answered truthfully. “The backers… they… aww, I’ll just tell you straight. We have three weeks to find the water.” “Three…?” Sat looked terrified and then glanced over at the remaining books. They were thicker and likely contained the most important parts of the whole voyage. “That’s…” “Difficult, yes. I’m going to pause my research and we’ll trade off on our translating of the books. It will need to be around the clock at this point. In less than three weeks, we need to finish translating three more books and mount an expedition back out there.” Sat gulped. “Yes, sir.” He looked back over to the books. “Guess we best get started right away… I’m on it,” he said determinedly, walking back over to his desk, the journal, and his leather-bound translation of it. I smiled and then looked over at Betty. She looked nervous but was absent mindedly rubbing her stomach. “Betty?” “Huh?” She broke out of her daze and looked back at me. “Oh, sorry, Mr. Whittington. What do you need?” I sighed. “I’m very happy for you Betty, but we can celebrate your pregnancy later. Right now, we need to focus for only a few more weeks here. Otherwise, all this will be for nothing.” She looked sad an rubbed her stomach once more. “I understand.” She then shook her head, obviously trying to shuffle away her current thoughts. “Do you need anything now, Mr. Whittington?” “Yes, thank you Betty. Sat and I will start taking our lunches in here from now on. Can you be a dear and go get them?” “Yes, right away, Mr. Whittington.” She smiled but solemnly walked out of the room. I sighed again. I was being truthful when I said we would celebrate her pregnancy later, but now was the time for focus. Presently, all that mattered were these journals and the leather-bound translated versions that Sat and I would now both be working on. I just hoped that it would all be done on time.

I've heard about the diapers on New Years Eve for several years now and I wonder how many people go out and buy store brand diapers and expect them to last all day long?

*looks in vain for a license plate* ...then I remember that in some single-plate states, the plate for a medium or large truck goes on the front.

Humm, cloth vs disposable again, there are actualy a lot of posts on this very board covering the topic, and on the cloth diaper board. You may want to look them up if you can. I personaly favor cloth, but tend to use disposables a lot, mostly out of conveniance, and living siduation. Cloth, is more expensive on a per diaper basis, but, spending 30 bucks on a cloth diaper, and another 20-30 on a pair of good plastic pants, financialy makes sense as that diaper and plastic pants should last at lest 100 uses. Now that is for the basic standard flat fold diapers, the fitted diapers wear diferently, so they might last longer, or less. The all in ones tend to fail with the waterproof berrier rather than the diaper itself. With cloth absorbancy is based on bulk basicly. The more absorbancy you want, the more cloth you need. On the other hand, cloth does not swell as it absorbs moisture, so your not going to be having to worry about hiding a swelling diaper. There are also a large number if verious diferent types of cloth that can be worn, some are made to be as close to regular underwear as posable, aka things like SuperUndies, all the way to old school flat unfolded diapers. There are also a number of diferent pastic pants that can be worn with them, from basic plastic, to rubber to nilon trycot to the newer PUL stuff, heck, there are flat woven polyester fabrics that are waterproof. So there are a lot of diferent options and wear styles with cloth diapers. There are a lot of options with cloth, and it is quite an adventure to find what your happy with. Wicking is also far better with cloth, you will use all of the cloth, no matter how little you wet. On the other hand, cloth does have downsides as well. If your out and about, you really need to take a diaper bag with you, or be very carefull to ensure that you are diapered enough for the time your planing to be out. Cloth is also very bulky, nothing you can do about that, its the nature of the material, it does not swell when it gets wet, unlike SAP. For some people the feeling of wetness is considered a downside of cloth, others consider it a pro, its very subjective and people have been known to fight over it even. There are actualy fabrics that mimic the stay dry topsheets that is disposables now adays that work quite well, someone was even selling the disposable topsheet as well, though a lot of that was to make cleaning up after messing easyer, the stay dry feeling was an extra. Cloth requires extra care after being worn as well, you need to rinse the diaper, or soak it, or something, untell its time to wash them, if you have a mess, thats extra cleanup, cause you want to get as much of it off the diaper quickly as well, rather than fold it up and tossing it. Thats partly why folks loved a diaper service, it made it a lot easyer to fold it up and hand it off to someone else to wash and dry. Sorry getting to be a bit of a runon, did not mean to spend forever on this subject, but it is one that is near and dear to me. I favor cloth myself, but, do to conveniance, and disposability I tend to use disposables a fair amount myself. Honestly part of that is that I can be a very heavy wetter, and getting a disposable that would last all night was not easy, or cheep. Now days there are a lot of good disposables that will take it, but, it can be a pain finding one that works well for you. Cloth, if you need more absorbancy, just add more cloth, heck pick up some cloth baby diapers to use as stuffers even. Alyeska

@Spanky Thanks for the info. Maybe I just have to be a little more patient and wait and see what it turns out to be. Everyone has to start somewhere and learn how to run a business. If the company and the products are ok, success will probably come. More opportunities and more competition can only benefit us all. 🙂

I a short time, I will be changing out of this French BabyDoll into a fresh one. It is thoroughly wet. This is unusual since it will have held up for only 12 hours. That is because I had a good deal of soup last night, which means about 3/4 of a quart of liquid which had to go somewhere. So it will not go for the usual 16 hours

Happy Monday and Memorial Day Holiday for those in the U.S. and we remember those brave men and women who made the ultimate sacrifice so that we can live in freedom (relative). I won't comment on the term "relative" as that will prompt a political and societal discourse beyond the scope of ADISC, but I will comment on my wet and messy morning NS Air Active Supreme diaper and DependEco turquoise bear PUL pants. My comment is simply ahhh, my diaper feels so warm and squishy!

We were spoiled with regular updates, but I hope we can get an update soon. ❤️

This is my last chapter for tonight. I would love feedback though ☺️ Chapter 6: A Shift in Perspective (5/28/2023) The morning sun pierced through the window, casting a golden hue over Sue's room. The promise of another day of summer vacation stirred within her a sense of exhilaration. Yet, a peculiar curiosity lingered, a curiosity about wearing a pull-up. The house was eerily quiet, her parents and Peter away for a doctor's visit. Seizing this rare solitude, Sue decided to quench her curiosity. She slipped into one of Peter's pull-ups, the softness of it striking her immediately. It embraced her body, providing a snug fit that was alien to her regular underwear. She stood there, frozen in time, absorbing the new sensation. A wave of tranquility washed over her. The pull-up was not just comfortable; it was a sanctuary. It offered her a safety net, allowing her to navigate her day without the constant dread of needing to rush to the bathroom. She spent the morning in the pull-up, immersing herself in her usual activities. As she delved into a book, played with her toys, and even tidied up the house, she found that the pull-up didn't hinder her movements. Instead, it seemed to meld seamlessly into her routine, its presence a comforting reminder of the security it provided. As the hours ticked by, Sue found herself growing fond of the pull-up. It was more than just a garment; it was a symbol of liberation, a tool that allowed her to fully engage in her activities without any disruptions. The comfort it provided was not just physical, but also psychological, freeing her mind from the worry of potential accidents. Meanwhile, at the doctor's office, Peter's parents received the news that his recent discomfort was due to a 24-hour stomach bug. The doctor assured them that Peter was on the mend and should be back to his usual self soon. Peter, perched on the examination table, listened attentively. A wave of relief washed over him. He was weary of feeling unwell and was eager to reclaim his normal routine. More importantly, he was ready to resume his potty training journey. As they exited the doctor's office, Peter turned to his mother, determination etched in his eyes. "Mom," he began, "I want to start potty training again. I don't want to wear diapers anymore. Can I wear a pull-up when we get home?" His mother looked at him, taken aback but pleased by his resolve. "Of course, Peter," she replied, her voice filled with warmth and encouragement. "We're very proud of you for wanting to continue with your potty training. We'll support you every step of the way." Peter's face lit up at his mother's words. He felt a surge of excitement at the prospect of returning to pull-ups and continuing his journey towards using the toilet independently. The ride home was filled with discussions about potty training strategies and the importance of patience and understanding during this process. As they pulled into their driveway, Peter felt ready to face the challenge ahead. He knew there would be accidents and setbacks, but he also knew that with the support of his family, he could overcome them. He was ready to take the next step in his journey towards growing up. Back at home, the atmosphere was abuzz with a renewed sense of enthusiasm. Peter's mother was eager to help him transition back into pull-ups, their conversation filled with positivity and encouragement. In their excitement, they didn't notice the unusual bulge beneath Sue's shorts, a tell-tale sign of her own experiment with pull-ups. While Peter and their mother were in Peter's room, Sue found herself alone with a growing urge to pee. She realized this was her chance to truly experience the pull-up. With a deep breath, she decided to let go, allowing herself to pee in the pull-up. The sensation was unlike anything she had expected. She felt the pull-up expand as it absorbed the liquid, its warmth spreading against her skin. It was a strange feeling, but not an unpleasant one. There was a sense of relief, a release of tension she hadn't realized she'd been holding. As she stood there, Sue found herself appreciating the pull-up in a whole new light. It wasn't just about the physical comfort it provided, but also the mental comfort. She felt a sense of freedom, a liberation from the constant worry of needing to rush to the bathroom. It was a safety net, a reassurance that she could go about her day without any interruptions. With a newfound understanding of the pull-up experience, Sue decided it was time to transition back to her regular underwear. She quietly made her way upstairs to her room, ensuring that her mother and Peter were still occupied. Once in her room, she carefully removed the used pull-up, marveling one last time at its expanded state. She replaced it with her regular panties, feeling a sense of normalcy return. Disposing of the pull-up proved to be easier than she had anticipated. She simply slipped it into Peter's diaper genie, ensuring it was well hidden amongst the other diapers. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, Sue made her way back downstairs. She found Peter engrossed in a game of Hot Wheels, his face lit up with excitement. She joined him on the floor, picking a car and joining in the race. As they played, Sue turned to Peter. "So, what did the doctor say?" she asked, her curiosity piqued. "Why are you back in pull-ups?" Peter's face lit up as he shared his doctor's visit. He explained how he had just had a stomach bug and was now feeling better. He also shared his decision to resume potty training, his excitement evident in his voice. "That's great, Peter!" Sue exclaimed, genuinely happy for her brother. "I'm really proud of you for wanting to continue with your potty training." As the day drew to a close, Sue found herself in a whirlwind of thoughts. Her experience with the pull-up had sparked a desire within her, a longing to return to the comfort and security it provided. She yearned for the freedom it offered, the liberation from the constant worry of needing to rush to the bathroom. Yet, she was also acutely aware of her age. She was a 10-year-old, far removed from the stage of pull-ups and diapers. Society, her parents, and even her own understanding dictated that she should be using the toilet independently. The thought of going against this norm filled her with a sense of apprehension. She was torn between her desire and the expectations set upon her. On one hand, she wanted to indulge in the comfort of the pull-up, to experience the freedom it offered. On the other hand, she knew she was expected to use the toilet, to move forward in her journey of growing up, not backward. As she lay in bed that night, the conflict in her mind raged on. She was at a crossroads, caught between her desire and societal norms. As she drifted off to sleep, the question remained unanswered, leaving a sense of anticipation for what the next day would bring.

When I wear one of these, on account of what it takes to make one, I will wet as many as eight times, and poop in it. Then the most intense orgasm you ever had!

Tykable Waddlers. Only second time wearing them! Very comfy and thick Really make you "Waddle"

I'm in a Rears Princess Pink and I feel pretty, oh so pretty! I am not wearing my usual cloth diapers for night time because we have too many things to prepare for our trip and this is some work that can be easily eliminated. After our trip I'll revert back to cloth at night. Hugs, Freta

@anniemilk, Sounds like that story is "Hidden rooms" on Zity.biz. There's also a rewrite on there. Here's the links. https://en.zity.biz/index.php?mx=docs;ox=showpart;idp=17737 https://en.zity.biz/index.php?mx=docs;ox=showpart;idp=20775 Hope this is the one. Thanks Blue

Yes, but it applies to when you first wake up in the morning and get out of bed. You can "Moochie" your diaper the second your feet hit the floor, walking down the stairs, petting the cat or making your morning cup of coffee before your morning jog. You are a trend-setter! You know you've hit the big time when they name a messy morning diaper after you! See? It's already taking off! Soon everyone will be referring to their messy diaper as "Moochied".

Definitely love the trip so far. She keeps saying she'll never do that in her diaper, but I'm sure she would have said she'd never wear a diaper either soooo......... I can't wait for more

Scene #211 “Passengers on flight 315, we will begin boarding in about 10 minutes.” I know I do most of the talking in my diary with Mary a close second, but that was the gate agent. Or as I like to call them, the agent of the gate. Agent Of The Gate. Sounds like someone who guards a castle or the entrance to another world in a fantasy novel, and sometimes my life is like a fantasy novel. ‘There goes Daphne,’ people say, ‘off in her little fantasy world.’ You’d be off in a fantasy world too if you had Mary, who was taking me on a trip. An awesome trip! Been so long since we left the country and I was just o so excited that for once my laconic self was downright chatty. “Do you remember what you called me on the first airplane trip we took together,” I asked Mary. “Um…” “O c’mon, you gotta remember.” “Daph … ne?” “You called me a carry-on-the-plane size girlfriend. It was very cute. You’ve been cute and kinda derpy the whole time you’ve known me.” “Do you remember what we did as soon as we got in our condo?” “I think so, but maybe you can tell me anyway.” “All passengers who need extra time boarding may board now.” “They’re gonna board us next,” Mary said. “You can board me whenever you’re ready,” I said cuz I’ve been derpy and prone to derpy sexual innuendo since I’ve known Mary. Two derps being derpy together. Sigh … And how did Mary respond to my very clever suggestion? Well, I shall tell you. She said, “Do you need your diaper changed before we get on?” She’s not cute and derpy all the time. She thinks she’s being cute with questions like that, but actually they’re mean and spiteful and other bad things. “No, for the tenth time since we got through security. And did I mention how incredibly unfair it was to make me wear one of these through security?” “It wasn’t mean at all. I knew they’d send us through a metal detector and not the body scan things.” “It’s called a millimeter wave scanner.” “I was dumbing it down for you cuz you’re a little girl.” “Marrrry!” It’s gonna be such a long flight. “When you go through TSA Pre-Check, you go through a regular metal detector.” “And instead of telling me that, you let me get anxious and red faced and did I mention anxious?” “And who held your hand through the line and helped you be brave?” “What you have is a being needed kink. That’s what you have,” I told her very haughtily. I was feeling haughty, I guess. I’m used to feeling bratty (though I’ve only been bratty once in my whole life; really), and sometimes I feel sassy (which is why the love of my life calls me a sassmuffin, which aren’t actual muffins if you ever go into a bakery and try to order one at your wife’s suggestion, which is a thing I never did and that she hasn’t reminded me of at least once a year ever since; really), and once I even got mouthy (true story). “I have a kink for blushy redheads who cling to me when they’re nervous, and lucky for me I married one.” “You took unfair advantage of the airport security process … which is designed to keep us safe. You should take it much more seriously … and patriotically.” She chortled at that. At me! Frigging chortler not taking security seriously. Hmmph! “How’s your bottom feel,” is what she asked instead of acknowledging the rightness of my position and dashing off a letter of apology to TSA. “It hurts.” Okay, maybe it just tingled a little. “It doesn’t hurt.” “No, but still. Was that really necessary?” “It was just enough to remind you to be a good girl on the plane. It’s twelve hours. What if there’s turbulence? What if a flight attendant won’t let me spank you in the galley? A preemptive spanking in the airport has been shown to decrease the risk of naughty little girls making bad choices on airplanes by almost 30%. I showed you the article.” “Hmmph! You had ChatGPT write that ‘research.’” “And it gave you another chance to practice changing your own diaper.” Mary smirked when she said that. Didn’t even try to hide it. All week long she’s been making me wear diapers at least part of the day and supervising me changing myself. She made a big production out of it too. “Daffy,” she called out all dulcet toned like she’s made of sugar and sunshine, “could you come downstairs? I need to talk about our trip.” I was there in a flash cuz I’m speedy and because ‘I need to talk’ is an ominous phrase. “We’re still going, right?” “Of course. Come sit next to me.” “She sat down with a growing suspicion,” I quietly narrated to myself. “No need to be suspicious.” “Our heroine forgets sometimes that Mary has ears like a German Shepherd.” “This is serious,” she said, which made me take it seriously. “We’re going to be going to a lot of museums, and we’ll be in crowds and unfamiliar places.” “I’ll wear my mask, like I said.” It was actually my idea cuz even pre-Covid every time I took a trip abroad I came back with some exotic upper respiratory thing. One type a woman coughed on the back of my head in line for a museum and I was sick by the time I got back to the hotel and stayed sick for three months. True story. “I know, sweetie, I know. What I want to talk about is making good choices.” That’s when I rolled my eyes so hard I gave myself a little headache. “We’re gonna be around priceless works of art and a lot of people. You need to be on your best behavior.” “We’re in luck cuz I’m always on my best behavior.” “Well, I know you try your best. There will be lots of dangers for a little girl like you on our trip.” “I’m not a little girl.” But like she even heard me. “You could get hit by a car. You could get lost. You could get stolen.” “Well, I am highly portable.” Cuz I’m small and light, which is also how Mary can yank me over her lap so fast all I can do about it is go, “Woah! Marrrry!” SPANK! “Are going to listen and take this seriously, or do I need to spank your bare bottom for you first?” “I’ll listen!” SPANK! “And you can do it without the sass. We’re going to be in unfamiliar, crowded places full of strangers and breakables. When I tell you we need to hold hands, you will hold onto my hand. Is that clear?” “Yes.” Gotta tell y’all, holding Mary’s hand is not, like, a burden to me. I kinda really sorta definitely enjoy it o so very much. You might even say holding hands is how our relationship started. I mean, her yanking me off my feet and over her knee without so much as a ‘wanna spanking?’ is how it actually started technically, but for polite company, it was love at first handhold. “And I need to know where you are at all times. I’m putting an AirTag in your pocket every single day so I can track you on my phone.” We’re already signed up on Find My Friend. I think she just likes the idea of tagging me; if we were into puppy play, I’m pretty sure she’d have had me chipped by now. “You’re going to stay within ten feet of me when we’re out in crowded places.” “Okay.” “And you’re going to use your inside voice when we’re inside.” “Yeah.” Duh; that’s why it’s called an inside voice. “And you get one warning about bad choices. Second time, I’m spanking your bottom. I’m bringing the hairbrush and your paddle.” It’s. Not. Mine! It’s hers!!! She uses it; I get it used on me. It’s hers! “I’ll take you to the nearest lady’s room, pull your pants down, and turn you over my knee. Capisc?” “Capisco.” “Daphne Ann?” “That means ‘I understand.’” “O. Good girl doing your Italian lessons.” As I was getting off her lap, I rolled my eyes so hard the other way that my headache went away. Weird. Or maybe it wasn’t that but that she said the magic words, i.e., she called me a good girl and I went squeeeee inside (Squeeeeee! Mary thinks I’m a good girl! Life is so satisfying and awesome! Squeeeeee!) And I don’t mind her rules. For firsties, I knew she was gonna relax those rules cuz it’s a lot of work enforcing them. For twosies, I’m an excellent rule follower. Even when I’m breaking rules, which I never do, I almost always know I’m breaking them, which means it doesn’t count as rule breaking because reasons. Mary disagrees, but I only go along with it to humor her and cuz she makes me. But she only makes me cuz I leave her no choice, for instance when I say things like, ‘O yeah? Make me!’ and cuz many years ago during our courtship I specifically said, ‘I want you to be in charge. You have my consent from here on out to set the rules and discipline me when I don’t follow them.’ It was something to that effect, anyway. “One other thing. Your diapers on the trip.” “But we’re not taking any diapers to Europe,” is what I said cuz it seemed wiser than throwing a temper tantrum (which would’ve been my first tantrum ever cuz I’m o so very good inside and out; really). “We’re crossing a lot of time zones. Do you know what time zones are?” Me giving Mary my not-impressed-face. “Well, it’s going to be a big adjustment, and it’s gonna make you feel funny. It’s called jet lag.” “You can’t be serious. I’m not wearing diapers the whole time.” “I didn’t say the whole time, but if I did, you would yes. Do you know why?” I knew but didn’t wanna say. “Daphne Ann Taylor?” Ooo, my whole name; she means business. “Cuz you said so.” “That’s right. We have long flights, long train rides, long lines, jet lag, and beds we don’t own. You’ll wear a diaper when I decide you need to wear a diaper, and you won’t argue with me when I decide, when I check your diaper, or when I change your diaper. Clear?” I was not, as some people who are mean and dishonest and are always traducing my sterling character (which is never less than dignified and poised and the very picture of equanimity yet never coming off as aloof) making my poutiest pouty face ever. Nor did I cop an attitude or have an attitude; nor did my ‘yes’ in response drip with attitude. Except the attitude of grace, for I am graceful in all my movements and mannerisms. Really. Mary made one of her I have-to-make-her-understand faces. “Let’s go,” she said, taking me by the wrist and leading me somewhere. I didn’t drag my feet or try to pull my wrist back or whine, “No! I don’t wanna spanking!” But if I did, I did so gracefully. And I was poised the whole time. And equanimous. And stuff. And things too. “And you won’t get a spanking if you mind me.” Also “I’ll mind!” “I know you will.” Into the kitchen she pulled me, where that damn wooden spoon lives. The Balsa Bitch, I always call her when no one with permission to spank me is around or ever cuz some of them hear seemingly every naughty (so they say) word I utter. “Stand here, hands on your head.” Who’s a good rule follower? Me! So I stood there with my hands on my head like a sucker while Mary turned the tap on. “I didn’t say any bad words! Please don’t wash my mouth out! Pleeeeeeasee?” Good thing I didn’t beg cuz that would’ve been pathetic and stuff. “Hold perfectly still,” Mary said. In the years I’ve known Mary, I’ve learned that she’s a ninja, a coyote, a sorceress, a so-and-so, a lawyer, and a politician. Apparently she’s also a wild west gun fighter cuz she yanked the nozzle from the sink, spun, and fired right at my shorts. “Mary!” “Hold. Still.” “Are you crazy?” Satisfied with my wetness, she put the nozzle back, and like she was the sane, reasonable person in the room (which she wasn’t and hardly ever is!) said to me, “How do you feel right now with wet pants and warm water running down your legs onto the floor?” Well, good thing I’m a wordsmith cuz I was feeling o so many emotions and had all the words I needed to describe them: confused, upset, miffed, and wet. Especially wet. “Wet,” I said (and definitely dripping with attitude that time). “Imagine that’s little girl pee that just came gushing out of you while standing in line for a museum cuz you just couldn’t hold your tinkles anymore?” “All those people would be staring at you, and they’d be a lot less understanding than me. I understand you’re just a little girl. They’d see a grown woman who just wet her pants!” “I’m not a little girl!” “What’s worse – having an accident in a diaper where no one can see, or having an accident in your undies so everyone can see?” “I’m not gonna have accidents!” “O, sweetie,” she said like the most loving, understanding person ever and stepped right through the puddle she made to give me the most loving hug ever. “I wanna believe that too. I really do. But we can’t take that chance. Every diaper I put you in comes off wet.” “Cuz you make me,” I didn’t say pleadingly with my emotions so on edge I was on the edge of weepiness. “Whatever you have to believe to be brave, Daffodil. You know I don’t judge you. I’m just trying to protect you, and I’m going to even if it makes you mad at me sometimes.” “Marrry!” “That’s right; your Mary will always keep you safe.” And I didn’t silently give in. Not true. If you hear otherwise, firmly correct that person with a throat punch. What really happened is I went, “Hmmph! Fine. Friggin’ fine.” See? Nothing silent about it at all, which would just be pathetic. Mary stepped back, keeping a hand on my shoulder. “You’ll see it’s really for the best.” “But I won’t be in diapers the entire trip, right?” “No, just when it might be tricky to take you to the restroom and at bedtime, at least until we get adjusted to the time change.” “Promise?” “I promise.” And then she actually held out a pinky; what I could do but wrap my pinky around hers? One might say doing so constitutes my agreement, but I prefer to think of it as constituting her commitment. I mean, it’s a pinky promise! That means something! Or at least it does among honorable people, and Mary is nothing if not stalwart. “Now,” she continued cuz of course she wasn’t done with her farce, “we might go places where there isn’t a restroom I can help you in. Probably not, but it could happen, and it will for sure happen on the plane. You’ve never changed your own diaper. It’s just not something little girls like you should be doing, but we can’t have you sitting in a wet diaper the whole plane ride.” “I have to wear it on the plane?!?” “Of course, hun. You’re gonna be going to sleep on the plane, and your bedwetting has gotten to be four and even five times a week.” “Cuz you make me wear diapers four and even five nights a week sometimes.” “I know it’ll be scary and uncomfortable for you, but you’re probably going to have to change your own diaper in the airplane lavatory.” Years of this ridiculousness and I’ve never changed my own diaper. The reasons are several. Firstly, they’re not my diapers; they are Mary’s diapers, and it just so happens I’m the one wearing and wetting them. Item B, Mary has made it abundantly clear that if I ever take (breathing through my teeth right now using the first-person possessive for the sake of literary clarity) my diaper off, she’ll spank me with the bath brush until I stop crying. Holy heccin butt wounds. And reason nope-never-absolutely-not-I-refuse-I-reject-I-disown-I-repudiate, changing my diaper myself would be actively participating in the diaper stuff, which could be (and would deliberately be) misconstrued by Mary as accepting – nay, enjoying – the diapers. “I don’t want to put them on myself,” I said. “I will if I can, but it might not be possible.” “Then I just won’t wear a diaper on the plane.” She didn’t even reply to that verbally. She just tightened her lips at me. “Fine, but I won’t wet it.” “It’s twelve hours. I could double diaper you in extra thick diapers, but it would be obvious to everyone you’re a little girl who still needs potty pants. Would you like to do that instead?” “Urgh! Fine, I’ll change myself.” “When I say to.” “What?” “I’ll check your diaper, and when I say you need a change, I’ll send you off to the lavatory with a new diaper.” I didn’t respond verbally to that. I just briefly sighed and slowly blinked as if to say, ‘lord give me patience with this one.’ “Can I go change into dry clothes now?” “Yes, living room.” Longer sigh; closed my eyes; took a deep breath. “Why?” Cuz my clothes live in the bedroom. “To practice diapering yourself, silly. You don’t wanna wing it, pardon the pun, at 35,000 feet.” “You’ve been planning that pun for days; I know it.” “Come,” she said, this time taking me by the hand and walking me back to the living room (at least I’d stopped dripping; #winning?) straight to the side table. “We’re gonna pack you a little changing kit in your carry-on with fresh diapers, wipes, and a little powder.” She bent down to pick up the basket of changing supplies she’s kept in the living room lo these past years. “Alright; let’s see what you got.” “Here? In front of you?” “Of course, silly goose. If I can change your diaper, I can certainly watch you diaper yourself. First step is taking off those wet shorts and undies. I know you can do that part yourself.” If my life were an open-world video game, there’d be stats for miles walked, miles driven, and hours spent bare bottomed in our living room. I took my wet things off and unfolded a diaper. “Gotta wipe first, silly.” “But I’m already clean.” I was already clean and then I got cleaner when she hosed me down. If she thought I was clean up that puddle (that Suzy was probably rolling in), she had another thing coming. TBD what that thing was gonna be, but it was on it’s way. Really. “But you’ll be coming out of a peepee diaper when you change yourself. If it will help, you can pull your wet shorts and undies back up, and I’ll watch you wet them in the bathtub. Will that help? Wetting your underpants so it feels more real? Cuz we can go do that.” “No.” “Then show Mommy how you wipe yourself.” Mary talks about that little spot on my color bone that turns red when I’m aroused. Well, it was under my shirt so we’ll never know. But Mary’s red cheeks, her lascivious, she-wolf grin – she was getting her jollies watch me change into a diaper. She literally leaned forward when I was wiping myself as if to get a better view. All she didn’t do was lick her lips “Don’t forget your bottom,” she added ever so helpfully. I didn’t even point out that I have never and will never do that in a diaper cuz she would’ve said something like. ‘You never know’ or ‘and let’s hope it stays that but just to be safe’ or ‘a just-in-case wipe is always good for a little girl like you, unless you want me to start wiping you every time you use the potty.’ I know she would’ve said one or all of those things (and other things!) cuz she always always always wipes my butt when she changes my diaper. And the wipe has always always always shown how unnecessary that is except for this couple times when Mary decided to be extra thorough (meaning spear me on the end of her wipe-wrapped finger) or this one time I don’t wanna talk about so shut up. “Might help to squat down so you can reach all the way back, baby.” I was on the verge of being on the verge of tears, and worst of all, my humiliation kink didn’t hate it as much as the rest of me did. “Now a little powder on your bumbum, or you can sprinkle some on your diaper.” I did the former and wiped my hand on my shirt, leaving a powder print. Won’t do that again. Mary gets zero credit for making me practice just cuz I learned something; in fact, she gets zero credit for anything ever. “Putting your diaper on yourself is the tricky part. You can do it sitting down on the toilet lid, but I think it’ll be easier if you’re standing.” She got up and steered me – diaper in hand, lady parts out – to the wall. “What you do is unfold the diaper …” I did. “Bring it behind you and hold it against the wall with your back …” I did. “And bring it between your legs.” I did. “Now pull it up and see if it’s too high or too low.” “Um, I think it’s …” “Lemme,” she said and took the front of the diaper, pressing it to my waist. “You got it on the first try! High five!” It. Was. A. Reflex! Of course I didn’t mean to high five her for getting the diaper right the first time. “Okay,” she said, “you finish up.” I unfolded the wings. “Um, which tapes do I do first?” “Always the bottom ones. Right, left. And then the top ones; left, right. And you’ll get a better fit if you use your left hand to do the right one on top.” And done. No celebrating. “Lemme check how you did.” She checked the waist, she checked the leg gathers, and she patted my butt just cuz. “Feels good to me. How does it feel to you?” “Fine.” “Not too tight or too loose?” “No.” “Then you did a very good job, sweetie! Good girl!” Don’t squee don’t squee don’t squee … Squeeeeeeeeeeeee! Dammit! Stupid internal monologue betraying me just cuz the one and only Mary, love of my life, called me a good girl. And why is my lip trembling? Wtf, body? She’s been teasing you for a half-hour and made you do something you’ve gone refused to do for three years and it’s just the start of having to wear a diaper on our European vacation. O yeah. Should I cry? Yes, but only a little sniffle and a tear or two. So I did that. “Aww, my baby girl is having some big feelings.” She put her arm around me and steered me to the couch, sitting down so I could flop myself into her lap and bury my head in her chest. “You were very brave,” she said and kissed my hair. “And you did such a good job. I know you like Mommy changing your diapers, so you’ll only have to do it yourself when it’s absolutely necessary.” Ya know, that didn’t help as much as maybe she thought it would. “I don’t wanna wear diapers on our trip. I’m not …” I choked on the words “What? Use your words, honey.” “I’m not a … a diaper girl.” “You think only a diaper girl would wear diapers on her vacation? You’ve worn diapers on our vacations before.” “But not overseas.” “I promise you it doesn’t make you a diaper girl. It makes you my good little girl for doing as you’re told, and I know you like doing what I tell you.” “Yeah.” And you like it more when you do something you don’t wanna do because I told you to.” “Yeah.” “So it’ll be fun. I promise I’ll be very mindful of your feelings. Everything will be fine.” “(Sniffle).” “What that a yes sniffle?” “Mhmm.” “Mommy’s good girl … And even if it did make you a diaper girl, which it doesn’t, but even if it did, that would be okay. Do you know why?” I already disagree with the very premise of that question; politeness more than curiosity required I ask, “Why?” “Because I’ll always make sure everything is okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.” Mary, my mobile safe space. And the safest space is where I was right then, in her lap with my face buried in her chest, her arms around me and her cheek resting against the top of my head. It’s a pretty awesome space. “Okay … Mommy.” I looked up at her, and she was smiling one of her this-smile-of-perfect-contentment-doesn’t-reveal-how-happy-I-am-because-I-get-to-live-my-life-with-Daphne smiles. Pretty sure only ageplay can be so wholesome and dirty at the same time. I mean, a couple minutes ago she was telling me to squat so I could wipe my butt better, which she was only doing cuz sometimes she might not be able to do it for me, and now she was making eyes at me like I’m the whole universe and a bag of chips. I mean, I am, but she doesn’t make those eyes at me all the time (I think cuz she thinks it would go to my head or something, which is just silly since I’m the humblest person to ever be so awesome and so humble). I started to get up so I could throw those wipes (which were sitting on top my wet shorts - ew) away and put my clothes in the washer. “Where you going?” “To clean up.” “I got one more rule to tell you.” “Okay.” “Our hotel rooms will have bidets in them. They are not toys.” “Ewwww! Mary, we have a bidet attachment upstairs.” And from experience, I’ll just say that if you’re gonna play with one, the water pressure in ours beats anything I’ve sat on in Europe. First time I tried it after it was installed I wasn’t sitting on it, which was good cuz I’d have done myself a permanent injury (it shot clear across the bathroom!). “And I have a surprise for you.” “Is it the kind I’ll like?” You won’t believe this, but sometimes her surprises are not very welcome. True story. “I got us upgraded to first class.” “Omuhgawd, really!?! How?” “We’ve been collecting points for more than three years and haven’t spent any.” First class on a domestic flight is not a big whoop. But on an overseas flight? Each seat is a little pod, and the seats lay flat and the blankets and pillows are better and there’s a gift bag of fancy lotions and the meals are better and there’s a sundae cart and the snacks are name-brand and the alcohol is complimentary and did I mention the seats lay flat so you can actually sleep and not wake up in pain!?! “This is so awesome,” I said when we’d boarded and they’d already given us a flute of champagne before hardly anyone else had even sat down. Then I whispered, “Do you think the other people in first class know we didn’t pay for it?” “Aww! Here I am at the birth of a brand new insecurity, and it’s so cute,” she said to me. “If it makes you feel better, we can afford it; we just spend our money more wisely.” I doubtfully asked, “Really? We can afford it?” “Uh-huh.” “Are we … rich?” Did I miss us getting rich? I miss some details but I’m pretty good at the big picture (and the details) and like to think I’d notice getting rich. “No, sweetie, we’re not rich.” “Then since when can we afford to fly first class overseas?” “Since I got a big promotion two years ago. Our lifestyle didn’t change; we didn’t buy a big house or fancy cars. How is this news to you? You look at our bank accounts.” “I just … never really thought about it that way.” “Must be nice being a little girl and not having to think about those things,” she teased me. “You didn’t answer me at the gate when I asked if you remembered our first trip together, what we did when we got to the hotel.” I remember. “Our first long trip; our first condo rental,” I observed cuz I’m clever like that. “Unpack first or go the grocery store first?” I was guessing unpack cuz she seems like the type and because she was rooting around in her suitcase already. She turned to me holding a paddle I’d never seen before, at least half an inch thick. I can’t remember if I gulped like in a cartoon or if I just said gulp cuz sometimes I recite my sound effects instead of making them. “This is a big step for us,” Mary said, sitting on a bar stool moment later with me dangled over her lap. “I gotta get a stool for my apartment; I love having you so you can’t touch the floor.” Which is the origin of that. “Big step,” I agreed. “Last week you said you wanted me to discipline you for real, an actual domestic discipline relationship with me in charge of why, when, and how you get spanked, and any other consequence I think you need. Remember?” Remember? Heck! Waiting on pins and needles for her answer! “Uh-huh.” “I’m willing to do that for you, but like I said when you asked, that means sometimes you’ll get spanked when you don’t wanna be, harder and longer than you wanna be, and for any reason I say or no reason at all. Are you still okay with that?” “Yes.” Gawd yes! Meg-Ryan-in-When-Harry-Met-Sally YES! “It’ll hurt a lot sometimes (SPANK!). It won’t be easy sometimes (SPANK!). It might seem unfair sometimes (SPANK!).” Am I crying already? Really? Yes really! That paddle friggin hurts! How much does it weigh!?! I mean, I’d been spanked by Mary when she was trying to make a point before, but damnnnn! “You need spankings, don’t you,” she asked me while paddling my bottom like a canoe. “(Sob sob sucking-in-air) Yes!” “You need this spanking, because I say you do, don’t you?” “Yes!” “When you’re naughty or make bad choices, I’m going to spank your bottom. You know that, don’t you?” She took some of the noises I was making for yes, I guess. “Bare bottom, over my knee. If you need a spanking, I’ll give you one. I’ll spank until you’re crying and kicking like a little girl. I’ll spank you on the spot if I decide an on-the-spot spanking is called for, and I’ll spank you again when we get home. You’ll learn to be the best-behaved girl there ever was or you’ll have a bruised butt every single day. And if other people find out – if people see your bright red butt on the beach this week or hear you crying through a spanking like you’re doing right now, then that’s just what will have to happen. Cuz you know I’ll be strict; I’ll spank hard; and I’ll spank as often as you need it to be the happy, good girl I know you are.” I left out the SPANK!s but they were there, like a hundred of them, and I was carrying on like a lesbian much taller and stronger than myself was beating my butt with a piece of tree cuz that’s what was happening. I sobbed over her knee for a good minute before I got myself under control. She was rubbing my butt, patiently waiting for me to be ready to talk. “So,” she said, “do you still want a full-time domestic discipline relationship?” “On one condition,” I choked out, tears still streaming down my face. “I get to throw that paddle in the ocean!” “Okay. But that’s the very last decision you get to make about your spankings so long as we’re together, unless you take back your consent.” “Okay.” “Every trip is kind of an anniversary because of that,” I said. “And this one is for our actual anniversary.” I went in for a kiss cuz I’m romantic like that and also a total Mary stan, but she was snagging the flight attendant’s attention before she could walk by. “Excuse me,” she said, dropping her voice to a stage whisper, “is there a disabled lavatory on board? Sometimes my wife needs help in the bathroom.” The attendant politely didn’t look at me so I got to turn tomato colored in the semi-privacy if my pod. Hmmph. “Yes, in both aisles. It’s the first lavatory in coach. If she needs it urgently and there’s a line, just buzz me.” “Thank you,” she said before turning back to me as the flight attendant walked on. “All that practice and you might not have to change your own diaper this trip after all.” “So. Mean.” She’s gonna take advantage of the ambient noise in every plane, airport, and crowded space to say stuff like that to me in public for two heccin weeks! “Ya know,” she said all faux nonchalantly, “after dinner is served and the cabin lights are off, if I got caught with my hand up your skirt, I’d just tell them I was checking your diaper.” O. My. Gawd. I hafta to respond to that quickly and clearly. “Germin flooperer!” “It’s so cute when you’re too flustered to make words. Just make sure you at least try cuz if you start saying ‘keyboard smash’ I’ll have to put your paci in your mouth every time I want to get you flustered. I brought your paci, by the way, if you want it during the flight.” “It’s gonna be a long flight,” I observed to no one. “It’ll be over before you know it. After dinner, we’ll get your pampers changed, and then Mommy will tuck you in with a movie until you fall asleep.” “Do you, um, think I can fit in your seat?” “We’ll try when it’s bedtime, but you might be too big to be a lap child.” “Hoosen hemfin.” “I know. Mommy knows.”

At three years old, girls are great. but once puberty hits...no thank you.

I already responded on May 31, 2019, four years ago. My response is simple: "Ahhhh" with a glassy eye gaze of pure pleasure.

I have my doubts about those two escaping for long and Jane was done anyway so I can understand that she at least wants to give it a try. Anna keeping her head low for a whole month we will see how this goes, they probably try to find more reasons to extend her time or provoke her.

It's a big change. We were there temporarily for three years, once our younger daughter went off to university. Then she came back, and has been here with us for the past two years. There are signs that she might be off again soon though. We ended up with operating in two different states, depending on whether it was just the two of us in the house... On our own: I can prance around the house in a nappy all I want, I never lock the bathroom door, Teddy is often downstairs on the sofa in the day, dummy in my mouth whenever I feel like it. Mummy brings me a bottle of warm milk when she comes to bed and feeds me. Mummy is totally OK with all this. My wet nappies live in a drybag in the bathroom, & I take them down to buckets by the washing machine each morning. With offspring around: Dressing gown needed when I head for the bathroom, bathroom door locked, Teddy stays under the covers (though not really hidden). My dummy is in my pocket and rarely comes out during the day. I take my own glass of milk up at bedtime - my bedtime remains at 10pm, and Mummy makes sure I stick to it unless there's something special on the telly. Wet nappies now live in the secret cupboard under the bath, and I sneak them down when I can. We're planning to head off for a week's camping next weekend, just the two of us with Binky (dog). That should work fine I think. I'll switch into disposables for the week. If either of the kids were around for that there would be a lot of anxiety on both our parts - there's not much room to hide things when you're camping. Every noise stretches for miles, every bag is near to everyone else. I have to say though that it's a lot easier to keep things private from adult kids than from young kids - once they're older they respect privacy more, and we can give them their own privacy more easily too.

But that's the thing about poopies, you never know what type is gonna come out and into your diapy.😁😅🤭😏♥️ That's why I always go with higher end diapys!😁😃😊♥️🥰🚼🍼👶

Maybe! Isabelle still has time to solve the mystery though, don't you think? I'm glad you're still enjoying the story! I confess the regression is not always consistent. I tried making a formula at one point, if you can believe it. But it was too hard to track and I got frustrated. I like your last questions, I've wondered the same myself! I cut your comment short here because quite frankly, I was a little too embarrassed to respond to all of it. I'll just say thank you, and share that my favorite part of writing this story has been meeting (even if digitally) a number of authors I have followed on this site for quite some time, yourself included now. I cut this portion of your comment out because it resonated with me, and I've been feeling alone with the thought. I have had the end planned since Chapter 2 or 3 about, and each time I get a chapter closer its bittersweet; I, like many others, have been so excited to read each chapter and go on this journey with Isabelle. Even though the end has been planned, everything between has been as much of a surprise to me as every other reader! But each chapter is a reminder that I am one closer to the end, and that makes me sad. I've never written a story before, so don't know if that's a common problem. But it is has been weighing on me, and I've been too shy? ashamed? flustered? to admit it publicly. Thanks for opening the door and letting me. I am trying to get another chapter done today, but it may be late/tomorrow, in case anyone is checking for an update.

Beyond XP5000 that I put on for bed about midnight. It's now 7am and it's very wet. I'll probably do a "Moochie" 💩 in it before changing 🚼 but I'll skip the morning jog. 👟

Keeping secrets Part 5 Tracy woke up with a pounding headache and a tongue that felt and tasted like she had been licking a dirty carpet. She carefully opened her eyes and surveilled her surroundings. She was in her underwear on the sofa in Jessie and Diego's tiny living room. Outside the window the sun was rising over a pile wrecked cars in a display that would probably be quite artistic if it was a photo or a painting. But right now it was just glaringly painful. Tracy picked what she hoped was a bit of lint out of the corner of her mouth. The previous evening was a bit of a blur. She remembered using a camera drone to film almost four hours of footage of Jessie and Diego driving recklessly. Jessie had been true to her word and although there had been a couple of cases of her flashing random pedestrians or other drivers, she had stayed dressed most of the time. While Jessie and Diego had 'blown off some steam' afterwards, Tracy and Kat had had a chance to geek out. It turned out that they shared an interest in what Tracy liked to call 'circumventing computer security systems'. After that, they had ended up watching playlists of hacking scenes from old movies and drinking whenever there was bullshit hacking on the screen. After a particularly bad movie, they had taken a little break to look for snacks. Kat had gone on a little rant in which Tracy learned that she hadn't actually programmed digital drugs, but rather designed the chips themselves, making sure that they'd burn out after one use to keep people coming back for more. When they had gone back to their drinking game, the playlist had reached Hackers. Tracy could remember the first twenty minutes. Vaguely. After that, everything was worryingly blank. She was about to get up when her feet bumped into Kat lying under a blanket on the floor next to the sofa. She groaned and opened her eyes to peer up at Tracy. "You look like I feel," she croaked. "Mm-hmm," was all Tracy managed. Kat pushed the blanket aside and got up, revealing that she was completely naked. She left the blanket on the floor and shuffled towards the bathroom, giving Tracy a full view of the circuit board-pattern tattooed across her entire back. Tracy's brain slowly began adding two and two together, constantly getting to five. "Kat?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. Kat stopped and looked back at her. "We didn't..." Tracy paused. "Did we?" "Don't think so," Kat replied, not sounding entirely sure. "You're not really my type." With Kat out of the room, Tracy looked around for her clothes, finding her jeans bundled up next to the sofa and her t-shirt stuck halfway down between two of the cushions. She dressed as quickly as she managed and tried to sneak out. "Well, well, well. Doing the walk of shame, are we?" Tracy stopped, just standing there, still holding her shoes. She had forgotten that Jessie was one of the earliest risers she had ever known. It had made sleepovers really annoying when they were girls. "I..." "I mean, you two looked so cute all snuggled up together last night," Jessie continued Tracy felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "I... We... We didn't..." Jessie laughed. "I know. I'm just fucking with you. You were passed out across her lap while she was yelling at the screen. Wanna see the pictures?" Jessie held up her phone to show Tracy a picture of her and Kat on the sofa. Thankfully they were both dressed, although Kat's shirt was fully unbuttoned. "I hate you." Tracy sat down on a crate to put her shoes on. "I know," Jessie replied, still grinning. "I guess I should have warned you that Kat likes to be naked. And I don't mean just when she sleeps. Diego's parents lived in this weirdo, nudist, hippie commune in Brazil. His sister still does." "Uh-huh." Tracy tied her shoes and stood. "Anyway, are you staying for breakfast?" Tracy thought about it, but quickly came to the conclusion that it'd just be too awkward. "Thanks for the offer, but I have to get back to the office." "Duty calls, huh?" Tracy smiled and shrugged. "You know, I need money for my toys." "Speaking of toys, Kat said that the suitcase'll be ready on Tuesday or Wednesday." "Good. I think I might need it again soon." Tracy dug her keys out of her pocket and got in the car. "See you in a couple of days then. Oh, and make sure you don't use my name in the credits of your movie. I really don't need any job offers like last time." Tracy's drive back to the office was uneventful and when she pulled into the parking garage, Jamal was on duty as always. "Anyone looking for me?" Tracy asked. Jamal stopped biting the tip of his pencil and looked up from his crossword puzzle. "Not that I've noticed. Eight letters, 'state', ends with 'O, blank, A'?" "Paranoia?" Tracy suggested. "Very funny." Jamal raised the barrier and Tracy rolled past him and down the slope. Just as she rolled up the window, she heard him exclaim "Oklahoma!". When Tracy opened the door to her office, she was greeted with a gust of warm, stuffy air. Oh great. The air conditioning is on the fritz. Again. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket on a chair as she crossed the room to her tiny apartment which made up the rest of her office space. She gave the air conditioning a whack, hoping it'd turn back on, but no luck. After leaving a message with her landlord about the air conditioning, Tracy opened a window and went to take a shower. Twenty minutes later, Tracy was sitting at her desk wearing nothing but a towel. Despite the shower, she was already almost as sweaty as the bottle of water in her hand. The desk fan was blowing across a tray full of ice cubes, creating a slightly cooler breeze, but it was fighting a losing battle against the heat. She checked her email, deleting the spam that made it past her filters. When that was done, there were only three left. One of them was for Alexandra Pavlova. Event Horizon had some additional details from their meeting. Tracy ignored that one. The other two were more interesting. One was from Michael Hunt, a friend of hers. He had a straight-forward surveillance job that he didn't have time for, so he wondered if she wanted it. Mike had three big problems: He didn't see how his name made it hard for people to take him seriously. Tracy had told him several times that he ought to change it. He also loved gambling, although he wasn't very good at it, and he always fell for married women. That meant he spent a lot of time hiding from bookies and angry husbands. Tracy wasn't sure which one it was now, but Mike was a decent guy so she replied and set up a meeting early the next morning. The last email was from Mrs. Devereux, asking if there was any new information. Tracy tried to keep her answer as vague as possible, in case her husband read the email. She said that some of her suspicions seemed valid but that she didn't have any solid proof yet. She added that she would let her know as soon as there were any major developments. Tracy pulled up the GPS tracker which showed her that Dennis' car hadn't moved since she had checked the previous day. I guess the Linwood incident gave him pause. Tracy figured that in order to catch Dennis, she would have to go undercover, so the rest of the day was spent creating a new online profile. She decided to make this one a 21-year-old foreign exchange student recently arrived from Turkmenistan. That'd be obscure enough that on-the-spot background questions would be easier to bluff her way through. Also, Tracy had a Russian translation program that should do a good job with the language. After doing a few searches for common Russian names, she settled on Ivana Kuznetsova, literally translating to Jane Smith. Tracy smiled a little at that. When she was finally done, the sun was setting and the temperature was finally dropping to a more comfortable level. Tracy shut down her laptop and stood. A thought bubbled to the surface of her mind: The memory of Kat walking naked and unashamed across the room in Jessie and Diego's living room. She had seemed really relaxed. I wonder... Tracy looked at the windows to make sure the blinds were closed. Then she undid the towel. It felt strange to be naked like this outside her bathroom or bedroom. Tracy walked across the office to her kitchen to throw the empty bottle in the recycling bin. It didn't really feel liberating or relaxed. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so self-conscious. Getting dressed, Tracy soon felt more comfortable. I guess I'm not moving to a weirdo, nudist, hippie commune any time soon. Knowing that she would have to stay close to Dennis' computer to keep an eye on his activity, Tracy realised she would need some supplies. Half an hour later, her van was fully stocked for an extended stakeout. A box of energy bars, half a dozen bottles of water, another half dozen bottles of Wrath, an industrial-strength energy drink, and a big bag of ice for the cooler. The only thing missing was her remote control rig. Hopefully she wouldn't need it. ~~~ The meeting next morning turned out to be a waste of time. It had taken Tracy less than ten minutes to find out that the client was a stalker with a restraining order. Tracy found it a little odd since Mike usually vetted his clients better than this. After leaving a message about it for Mike, Tracy left to do some stalking of her own. Tracy parked in the same alley as the last time and used a suction-cup mount to set up a small dish antenna on the roof of the car. Turning on the computer, she started looking through the numerous Wi-Fi-networks available. It didn't take long to find the one belonging to Smith & Smythe, and it took even less time to connect to it. They really should take their cyber security more seriously. Only minutes later, the blue dot representing Dennis' car moved in from the edge of the map. It pulled into the parking garage and stopped. Tracy kept an eye on the computers connected to the network and a little while later, his computer appeared on the list. She set up a terminal window to display the websites it connected to and sat back to wait. Now, let's see how careless you are. Several hours later, Tracy concluded that Dennis was indeed a very careful man. His computer hadn't visited anything even remotely suspicious. He had even worked through the lunch break. Tracy fumbled with the funnel as she squatted over a bottle in the back of the van. Sometimes she envied men. Peeing during stakeouts was a lot easier for them. She put the cap back on the bottle and pulled her pants back up. Then she opened the door and looked both ways before tossing the bottle into one of the containers along the wall. Based on the smell in the alley, she wasn't the first to relieve herself there, but she refused to pee out in the open. There were limits to what she was willing to do, even when on a stakeout. Dennis worked late and didn't shut down his computer until almost six o'clock. When he did, he went straight home, only stopping at a convenience store. The next days passed in the same way and Tracy found that her tolerance for boredom was nearing its limit. But at least she was getting a lot of practice with the funnel. She spent the days reading, only looking up every time her computer dinged to indicate that Dennis visited a new site. It was nearing the end of work on Friday afternoon, and Tracy was almost done with 'The Long Goodbye'. Her stomach rumbled and she looked at the remaining energy bars with loathing. She swore that once she was done with this job, she was not eating another one of those for a long time. Tracy was still debating whether to ignore the hunger or force down one more of the grainy abominations. Before she could make up her mind, however, her computer indicated that Dennis had disconnected from the network. Tracy got up and quickly took down the antenna from the roof before getting in behind the wheel and waiting for Dennis's car to start moving. It only took a few minutes before the blue dot moved out onto the street. Following at a safe distance, Tracy's heart jumped as Dennis took an unexpected turn, not heading home. "Finally," Tracy said to the GPS. "It certainly took you long enough." Dennis drove for a while longer before pulling in to the parking lot next to a nondescript brick building. Tracy knew exactly what kind of place this was. It was another place like the Linwood. The big difference was that she had been part of the team that had set up the security system there. Hopefully, the back door into their system would still work. While Dennis made his way inside, Tracy lay back in the beanbag and grabbed the keyboard. She plugged a thumb drive with her fake personal information into the slot and connected to the hotel's network. She didn't have to wait long before she saw Dennis' computer connect too. She even recognised the address he was going to. "Okay Dennis, let's see what you're hiding from your wife." Tracy reached for the fat spiral wire and plugged it into her skull. Then she copied the address and hit enter. There was the annoying tingle of an incoming signal and Tracy closed her eyes, letting her body grow heavy and numb. She found herself floating in a featureless darkness. No, not even floating; there was an absence of sensation so she wasn't really doing anything. The only sensory input was a slowly pulsing 'Connecting' in front of her. Then the darkness unfolded itself into what looked like a giant patchwork quilt. Two of patches said 'Log in' and 'New user' in softly glowing letters. Well, I'll give them points for retro chic. I haven't seen that kind of login page in ages. Tracy reached out and touched the 'New user'-button. It morphed into a form already filled out with the personal information of Ivana Kuznetsova. She noticed all options to display personal information were off by default. Discreet too. Nice touch. The payment options were next. It was either pay per hour or a monthly subscription. That was a no-brainer for Tracy who prepaid for an hour with the debit card she had attached to the profile. It took a second for the form to process the payment, but soon enough, an avatar builder appeared. These were standardised across most VR websites, so Tracy just opted to use the avatar she had already made and stored on the thumb drive and pressed the 'Enter site' button. It flashed red and made a buzzing sound, but nothing else happened. Then Tracy noticed an entry that hadn't been filled out, asking 'small' or 'large'. Going through this many servers is bound to slow things down. A low-poly avatar is probably faster. Tracy checked the 'small' box which promptly expanded into 'Option 1' and 'Option 2'. There was no explanation what the difference between the two were, but Tracy figured that the first option was the baseline experience. Since she just needed to gain access to the site to snoop around, she decided to go with that. Tracy started the tracking program in a small terminal window, and saw it was poised to leap into action as soon as she was inside. Then she pressed 'Enter site' again. This time the quilt leapt at her, enveloping her in a warm darkness. When the darkness lifted, Tracy found herself sitting on the floor in a bedroom. A very oversized bedroom. Looking down, she saw she was wearing just a t-shirt and a big, puffy diaper. "What the hell?!?"

The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 37 Isabelle didn't sleep well at all that night. She had no recollection of her dreams, but they were not good. In fact, Isabelle woke up repeatedly, fearing that she would find herself back on Aquaria, being pulled down by the monster that had discovered her. 'Will I ever make it out?' Isabelle wondered, secure in her bedroom at home, under a canopy of lights. 'Will I ever find out what's in the chest?' When the morning light finally broke though her window, Isabelle was already up, focused on her dreams, the new information she had learned from her book, and of course, planning a way to try and get back to her normal self. 'There's nothing I can accomplish from bed,' Isabelle decided, lifting herself up, and carrying Rabbity with her out of her room. 'It's too early to wake mom up,' Isabelle decided, opting instead to go to the basement to watch TV. Isabelle shifted her legs forward, one at a time, as she hauled her body, weighed down by her sodden sweetnight, and Rabbity down the first set of stairs, before stepping onto the creaky top step of the basement stairs and descending. Isabelle made her way down the remaining stairs, before hopping up on the couch, and turning the TV on. Isabelle navigated the channels, finding precisely what she was looking for; Rover-Roo. Isabelle felt she needed inspiration that morning. She felt like she was making ground, finally, on the verge of discovering more about space and wormholes. Isabelle needed to see how experts investigated and arrived at their conclusions, so she could be confident in doing so herself. 'Who better to watch than Rover-Roo and the Cluefinders?' Isabelle thought. 'No one. That's who!' Isabelle felt herself getting lost in the TV show, laughing, gasping, and smiling along as the cluefinders solved mystery after mystery. Isabelle laid her head down on a pillow, finding herself drifting off slightly, but still watching her show. Isabelle wasn't sure when it happened, but at some point, her thumb had made its way toward her mouth, and then into it, as she settled further down on the couch, laying her body sideways with her head on a pillow. Her nightgown had ridden up her legs, not that she realized, exposing her sodden sweetnight to anyone who would walk down. It was about halfway through the second episode of Rover-Roo that Isabelle felt the need to pee come on. Isabelle didn't hesitate, releasing her pee seamlessly into her sweetnight, feeling the warmth of it spread out from her crotch, around her bum, and all through her sweetnight. Isabelle felt as the little remaining dry and thirsty padding absorbed her pee up with no problem, before sighing and returning her full attention back to her show. Isabelle felt her sweetnight droop further and heavier against her leg, its capacity maximized with her latest deposit. Isabelle unwittingly continued to suck at her thumb and watch her show. As her third episode of Rover-Roo was starting, Isabelle heard some noise from the top of the staircase. Figuring it was her mother, Isabelle didn't divert her attention, keeping her focus on the TV. Jane emerged downstairs to an adorable sight; Isabelle was on the couch, sucking her thumb and watching television like she used to; Isabelle had her head laid down and propped up by a pillow, her eyes completely focused on her cartoons. From her angle, Jane could see a very yellowed and soggy sweetnight. 'It's remarkable it hasn't burst,' Jane thought, starring up the underside of her daughter's nightgown. Isabelle didn't even turn to look at Jane - it was unclear to Jane if Isabelle even knew she was there. Jane made her way over to her daughter, shifting Isabelle's feet and lifting them on to her lap. Jane figured there was no reason to warn Isabelle, being there and all, and gently reached over to press her hand against her daughter's sweetnight. 'Just as I suspected...' Jane thought. Isabelle's sweetnight was not only full, but it was very clear that it had recently been wet. 'This isn't from overnight....she did this while she was awake,' Jane concluded. Jane knew she was taking the correct precautions, especially after finding Isabelle's panties wet again the night prior. 'It's just a precaution,' Jane reminded herself. Jane shifted her hand, tracing her way along the bottom of Isabelle's sweetnight and up her bum, noting how the wetness had spread all the way to the back. Jane continued, moving her hand up Isabelle's back and rubbing it. Jane's hand caused Isabelle's nightgown to shift even higher up her body, making her wet soaked sweetnight even more visible. Jane couldn't believe, as she starred at the front of it, how wet it was. Isabelle was unphased by her mom's touch, if anything embracing it. It didn't seem to Jane like the girl knew one bit how wet she was. "Let's go get ready for the day sweetie. That's enough TV." Jane said, as she took the remote and turned the TV off. Isabelle squealed a protest, but Jane but a swift end to that before it started. "No No. No whining," Jane said, as she pulled her daughter's hand, and thumb out of her mouth. "Let's get up. Come on!" Jane said, getting a little louder, and helping Isabelle to her feet. Before releasing Isabelle, Jane spun her around, kissing her on the forehead. "One more thing first," Jane said, lifting her daughter's nightgown up completely and pulling down the sides of her sweetnight. Isabelle didn't resist. "Okay sweetie. Go upstairs and get dressed. I'll get your breakfast ready, after I throw this out." Isabelle nodded, and sheepishly made her way back upstairs. **** Isabelle jumped out of the car, and waved goodbye to her mom. The morning had passed pretty quick. Isabelle ate her breakfast as her mom chatted on the phone a little bit. After that, Jane told Isabelle that 'I need to run some errands after work today, so you'll need to go to the library after dance for a little, okay sweetie?" Isabelle protested "Can't I come with you mommmmmm?" Isabelle was feeling tired, and needy that morning. She wanted company, and didn't mind going to the store with her mom. 'It might actually make things easier,' Jane thought. 'But it's out of the way..' It didn't make any sense to go to the school first, and then all the way back to the discount pharmacy. Jane knew her coupons only had 2 more days to them. "Sorry baby. I'll have to get you after. Its out of the way." Jane could see the disappointment spread on Isabelle's face. Jane had some ammo to cheer her up though. "But look. I opened your birthday invitation from Charlotte. It looks like you're going to be going bowling on Sunday! Doesn't that sound like fun! And look, moms are invited! I haven't gone bowling in a long time. I am excited to go with you!" Jane said, as she watched the smile return to her daughter's face. After that - and after being reminded to pee again - Isabelle was off with her mom to Higgins. Isabelle made her way into class after dropping her ballet things off once again. Miss Jenny welcomed her with a thumbs up, before greeting the whole class with a big smile! "Good morning, my wonderful students!" Miss Jenny called from the front of the classroom. "Can you believe that Halloween is just around the corner? Today, we're going to learn all about the fascinating traditions and stories that make this holiday so special." Isabelle hadn't realized that Halloween was pretty close. She hadn't even though about what she wanted to be this year! 'What was I last year......?' Isabelle wondered, getting distracted in her thoughts. For the life of her, no matter how hard Isabelle thought, she couldn't remember thought. 'Was I maybe a......cat or something?' As Isabelle got lost in her thoughts, the other kids in the class were getting more focused on Miss Jenny's lesson, leaning forward in their chairs, excited for the day's lesson, and eager to discover more about Halloween. Miss Jenny started by telling them about the origins of the holiday, explaining that Halloween had ancient roots in a Celtic festival called Samhain. Isabelle thought that "Samhain" was a funny sounding word. As Miss Jenny wrote it down on the board, Isabelle thought it was spelled really strangely too. Isabelle tried sounding the letters out, but it didn't make any sense. Miss Jenny went on to described how people believed that on Halloween night, the boundary between the living and the spirit world was thin, allowing spirits to walk among them. Miss Jenny explained that dressing up in costumes on on Halloween was a way to disguise oneself from mischievous spirits. That way, the spirits who came into the world wouldn't think to scare the kids. Miss Jenny went around the class to distribute papers for writing. Miss Jenny explained that the goal of their assignment was to come up with a costume idea, and write about why it would trick the spirits into leaving them along. She encouraged the kids to work together if they wanted, to share their costume ideas and, together, they could brainstorm creative and imaginative outfits. As Miss Jenny passed Isabelle's desk, she gently tapped it to remind her to go to the bathroom. Isabelle, however, was too distracted by the assignment to pay attention to any tapping. When Miss Jenny saw that Isabelle didn't respond, Miss Jenny returned back to Isabelle's desk, lowering herself and whispering 'are you sure you don't want to see if you can help the other student out?' Isabelle realized that she must have missed the signal. But Isabelle didn't want to leave class. She wanted to write about her costume ideas. "Not now Miss Jenny. I'll go in a bit. I wanna get my ideas down first. They are exploding out of my head!" Miss Jenny laughed, figuring the girl could probably wait a little longer. Miss Jenny returned to her desk, watching clusters of kids get together to work on the assignment, and offering help to anyone who needed it. The classroom buzzed with excitement as the students enthusiastically shared their ideas. One student wanted to be a courageous superhero, while another dreamt of transforming into a mystical unicorn. Miss Jenny listened attentively as the kids approached her in groups, and applauded their creativity. Isabelle, however, was the only student that remained alone. She didn't appear to find any friends to work with, Miss Jenny noticed. Moreover, Miss Jenny could see that Isabelle was squirming pretty bad in her seat. Miss Jenny made her way over quickly to Isabelle, this time being a little more insistent. "Isabelle," Miss Jenny whispered, "I need you to ask to go to the bathroom now, so that other student goes. It looks like they really need to." Isabelle had been too distracted by her drawing to notice that, in fact, she actually needed to go to the bathroom. Badly. There was no point in explaining the difference to Miss Jenny. Instead, Isabelle simply shot her hand up and asked to be excused. Miss Jenny granted Isabelle permission, and watched as the little girl moved as quickly as she could out of the classroom. 'I sure hope she makes it,' Miss Jenny thought, before turning her attention to some other students. Isabelle was moving quickly through the halls. 'How on earth did I not realize I needed to go?!' Isabelle asked herself. She had been having too much fun, planning her astronaut investigator costume, and got distracted thinking about a story where she worked with the spirits to solve the mystery of all the parents in the town having been turned into giant pigs. Isabelle decided she was going to call it "Phantomed Away!" Even though a lot of the spirits she was drawing were spooky looking, some of them seemed kind of friendly. Isabelle was on the verge of bursting, as a result though. It was going to be close. Isabelle rounded a corner and made her way toward the girls' bathroom door. Shifting her legs, and pressing them together, Isabelle pressed forward. Isabelle was within reach of the door to the bathroom... ...when it happened. Isabelle felt her bladder start to release into her undies. Isabelle retracted her hand and arm, which was mere inches from the door to the bathroom, and pulled it back to her side. Isabelle could have, if she wanted to, pressed her hand against her crotch. She could have clenched her bladder. She could have run into the bathroom and tried to get as most of her pee into the toilet. She could have done anything beyond what she did do. She did nothing. Isabelle simply stood, in front of the bathroom, and kept peeing. In fact, Isabelle released all effort she had made to hold it at that point, letting the full tank of her bladder empty into her undies. Isabelle got lucky. She couldn't appreciate how lucky she was, however, in the moment. Whether she still had the capacity to appreciate how lucky she got, was, debatable. But as the stream of pee slowed down, her undies managed to just absorb it all, a single drop of her pee falling underneath her to the floor from her dress. Isabelle knew she couldn't sit on her undies. That, even Isabelle knew, as she felt the warm weight of them against her thighs, would result in her pee exploding out from them. She had to come up with a plan. But what could see do? 'I could just take them off.....' Isabelle thought. 'BUT WAIT!' It occurred to her just as the bathroom door opened. She had an extra pair of undies in her ballet locker. Isabelle would have made her way there, but for the fact that she was confronted with a new problem; Miss Amber was starring at her. "Hi Isabelle. Do you need to go in? Go ahead!" Miss Amber said, holding the door open for her. Isabelle went beet red. 'I NEEDED to go in...I don't anymore....' Isabelle thought to herself. "ummmmmmmmm...ummmmm.....no....I uh....... I don't have to anymore........' Isabelle wasn't sure why she said that. But Miss Amber would not likely suspect anything. She didn't know about Isabelle's special undies. Miss Amber, however, did. And Miss Amber knew the look of a girl who had an accident; it was the exact look Isabelle was giving her now. Fortunately, Miss Amber had also spoken to Jane, and to Miss Jenny, and the three had planned for this. Just in case of course. "It's okay Belly. Why don't we go to the locker rooms and get cleaned up? How does that sound?" Isabelle wasn't sure what was going on. 'Does Miss Amber know? I was going to the locker rooms anyway! Why did she say clean up? I don't understand??' Miss Amber could see the poor girl was getting redder and redder, and her eyes beginning to gloss. 'I need to help the poor girl preserve her dignity,' Miss Amber thought. Miss Amber reached her hand out, taking Isabelle's, before saying "I need to go the locker room anyway. You wouldn't believe it Isabelle! The sinks in this bathroom don't work, and I couldn't wash my hands. Like I said, well go together!" Isabelle's demeanor changed entirely. 'OHHHHH that makes sense. She doesn't know! She just needs to wash her hands. I'll just be really sneaky about changing,' Isabelle thought. "Okay Miss Amber!" Isabelle responded with renewed enthusiasm. "Let's go!" Miss Amber wouldn't need to know a thing. Isabelle took Miss Amber's hand, and the two made their way further from Isabelle's class and into the locker room. When they walked in, Miss Amber announced that she was "going to wash my hands for 2 FULL minutes." 'Miss Amber has no idea how easy she's making this for me...she'll never know," Isabelle thought. It was all Isabelle could do to practically stop herself from laughing so hard. As Miss Amber made her way to the sinks, Isabelle quickly went to her locker, opening it up, and unzipping her ballet bag. Isabelle peered around the corner once more. Seeing that Miss Amber was out of sight, Isabelle pulled her undies off, pulling them around her sneakers, and hiding them in the locket. Isabelle took her clean undies, and quickly slipped them up her legs. "Nice!" Isabelle exclaimed to herself, before she realized she was speaking out loud. Isabelle realized she needed an excuse for coming though. Seeing an opportunity, Isabelle kicked off her shoes and socks, putting on her thin sockettes before pulling her ballet slippers on. If Miss Amber asked, Isabelle would just say her shoes were uncomfortable, and that was why she came. 'Why else would I need to?' Miss Amber returned, asking no questions at all. It was almost as if she knew exactly why Isabelle needed to come. But Isabelle didn't know. 'And she doesn't need to know,' Miss Amber thought. "Let's get you back to class." Isabelle walked back into class, and headed to her seat. Miss Amber signaled Miss Jenny for a minute, and the two spoke at the door while Isabelle returned to her assignment, unaware of whatever her teachers were discussing. Miss Jenny then returned, closing the door behind her, and proceeding with the rest of class. To add to the Halloween spirit, Miss Jenny had prepared a spooky story for her class. She dimmed the lights, lit a few candles, and began to narrate a tale of friendly ghosts, talking pumpkins, and magical adventures. The children's eyes grew wide with wonder as they immersed themselves in the whimsical world of the story. Isabelle herself was having a blast, though some parts of the stories were too scary for her liking. To conclude the lesson, Miss Jenny explained the tradition of trick-or-treating. She emphasized the importance of being safe, staying with an adult, and showing gratitude when receiving treats from neighbors. "That's it for today. Everyone off to lunch," Miss Jenny announced, as Isabelle made her way up and out of class, feeling proud of getting away with her little accident. ****** Isabelle stretched out in dance class, working on her calves and ankles to ensure that she was ready for the days practice. Lunch had been terribly lonely. Charlotte didn't want to go to the library that day, so Isabelle followed her in the cafeteria, first in line, and then sitting at the table with her. Isabelle wasn't spoken to, and didn't speak once, the entire lunch period. Isabelle felt reminded of how alone she was. Sure, Charlotte was nice. But none of the other girls seemed to like her. She missed Lola. She missed Dani. She missed Mel. Isabelle left lunch early to go the locker rooms. She hated the feeling of being alone, and sitting at the end of the lunch table, ignored, was just a reminder of how awful it was. Isabelle was growing worried about Charlotte's birthday. 'Would anyone even talk to me?' But at least her mom would be there. As Isabelle stretched out, she felt a presence over her shoulder. It was Miss Amber. "Hi Belly! Nice seeing you again. Are you ready to dance?" Isabelle nodded. Dancing seemed to be the only good parts of her days anymore. "Great!" Miss Amber answered. "I am just reminding everyone to go to the bathroom before class starts - the first part of class is going to be really important. Why don't you set a good example and head in first?" Isabelle pondered the request, before shrugging and obliging. Isabelle liked being a good helper. In any event, the sodas she had at lunch were beginning to weigh on her, she realized as she stood up. 'Peeing is probably not the worst idea!' Isabelle went back to the locker room to pee. Isabelle saw that a lot of the girls were about to leave, so decided to be helpful. "Miss Amber just wanted everyone to know that there wont be bathroom breaks for a while, so to go now!" Isabelle expected that she might receive thanks from her dance mates - but they just looked at her awkwardly, passing her and heading to class. Fortunately one voice made her feel better "That's a good idea," Isabelle heard Cassie say, before the two of them went to stalls to pee. Isabelle actually realized she needed to poop, and so took a little longer than Cassie, returning to the studio shortly after her. 'At least Cassie was smart enough to listen,' Isabelle thought. Isabelle returned to the class to find that Miss Amber had already started the warmup. Isabelle took her place along the barre with the others, joining in with her dance mates as Miss Amber led them through the warmup routine. With each plié and tendu, Isabelle felt more like herself, embracing the artistry of the ballet and preparing herself for the upcoming challenge that was always Miss Amber's class. Once warmed up, Miss Amber gathered the students in the center of the studio. Miss Amber reiterated that the students would each be performing the next day, and explained the importance of proper alignment, balance, and spotting when it came to pirouettes. With patience and precision, Miss Amber guided the students through the mechanics of turning, emphasizing the need for core strength and controlled movements. As the students practiced their pirouettes, Miss Amber provided individual feedback, gently correcting their postures and reminding them to find their center. She stressed the significance of maintaining a calm focus and trusting their bodies to execute the turns flawlessly. As Miss Amber passed by Isabelle, she tapped her on the shoulder twice, catching her attention, and using her head to suggest Isabelle leave the class briefly. Isabelle complied, taking the time to go to the bathroom and pee before returning. Isabelle returned in time to practice a few more pirouettes off barre. "Very nicely done Isabelle.' Isabelle felt good about herself, getting positive feedback. After honing their pirouettes, Miss Amber moved on to petit allegro, the lively and energetic section of ballet. She demonstrated quick and intricate footwork, encouraging her students to infuse each step with energy and enthusiasm. With delicate jumps and precise beats, the students leaped across the studio, their movements synchronized and filled with joy. Once more, however, Miss Amber indicated to Isabelle to leave class, so she could help some of the weaker students. Isabelle left, and repeated her normal routine. Throughout the class, Miss Amber not only focused on technical aspects but also emphasized the artistry and expression in each movement. She encouraged her students to tell a story through their dance, to let their emotions guide their steps and make every turn and jump come alive. "I'll be looking for all of these things tomorrow," Miss Ambert announced, as the bell signaling the day was over rang overhead. "Please be on time tomorrow. I expect you all to bring your very best attitude and support your classmates!" **** Isabelle found herself a seat in the library, content to relax after a grueling dance practice. Isabelle took her time in the locker rooms after, knowing her mom was going to be later to pick her up. But now, she had spare time, and so checked herself into the library with Eugene, finding a table to sit at and continue her research. Isabelle stretched her legs out under the table. Much like prior days that week, Isabelle had opted to keep her ballet slippers on after dance. Comfortable, Isabelle pulled her space book out, determined to find material more on point for her theories. 'There has got to be something here about wormholes.... GOT IT!' Isabelle nearly shouted with excitement. Chapter 13: Womholes - Space Tunnels? Have you ever wondered if there are secret shortcuts in space that can take you to faraway places in the blink of an eye? Well, get ready to learn about wormholes - fascinating space tunnels that could make traveling across the universe much faster! Let's dive into the mysterious world of wormholes. Imagine a wormhole as a cosmic tunnel connecting two different places in space. It's like having a secret passage that lets you travel from one side of the universe to another without taking a long, long journey. Scientists believe that wormholes might exist, but they are still trying to learn more about them. 'Okay....' Isabelle did her best to understand what she was reading, but it was challenging. She had to read the introduction passage a few times just to get a basic understanding. 'But this seems to suggest that wormholes are just like tunnels. There's nothing here about changing to the world.....only moving to other places. I need to continue.' Wormholes are like tubes in space, but they are not made of metal or any physical material. Instead, they are like invisible connections, almost like bridges between distant parts of the universe. Scientists think that wormholes might look like swirling tunnels, kind of like a colorful vortex in a science fiction movie. 'This isn't helpful either.......' Isabelle was growing concerned. Was her theory all for nothing?' Scientists have been studying wormholes and their incredible potential. They imagine a future where spacecraft could use wormholes to travel vast distances in the universe. It would be like hopping from one end of the universe to another in an instant, just like magic! However, there's still much more to learn about wormholes. Scientists are trying to figure out if wormholes truly exist and if they can be stable and safe for travel. It's a big mystery that scientists are excited to unravel. 'Okay....' Isabelle thought. 'So there is still a lot to learn. It could be that everything happening to me is because of a wormhole...' Isabelle continued reading. A Friendly Reminder! While wormholes sound exciting, it's essential to remember that we still have much to discover about them. One thing we are confident in, however, is there are no wormholes that will change reality - Simply put a wormhole is a way to move across space, not change the existing space. So you don't need to worry that you might go through a wormhole and turn into an octopus! Isabelle felt distraught. Her entire theory was defeated by the book. 'Can't change reality.......it says it right there.' Isabelle wasn't sure what felt worse; the fact that the space theory, which had become her favorite, was not real; that she was running out of theories all together, and had nothing more to seriously develop, or; that she was peeing in her undies as she sat at the table in the library. It was hard to decide. Isabelle just felt so... so......without direction. She felt so alone. She felt so... soo........ 'WAIT! When did I start peeing?' Isabelle asked herself, as she continued to do so. Isabelle hadn't even realized she had started to, let along that she was continuing to do so, right in the chair, as she read her space book. Now Isabelle had one more thing to be worried about; 'mom is going to be disappointed in me...' Fortunately, Isabelle's undies did their job and soaked her pee. Unfortunately, Isabelle spotted her mom walking toward her before she could come up with any plans to handle it. "Hi Sweetie! Ready to go?" The question felt loaded. Isabelle wasn't just ready to go. She was ready to be done. Feeling alone, sad, defeated, and wet, Isabelle just took her mom's hand, happy to be with her again. "Yes mommy....I'm ready to go." ***** Jane did her best to cheer Isabelle up on their drive home. Jane could tell Isabelle was bothered by something, so didn't wait for Isabelle to come forward with what Jane expected the problem to be. "Sweetie, did you have an accident," Jane asked Isabelle, as they walked out of the school together. There was no point in denying it; she had had an accident. Isabelle simply nodded. "It's okay baby," Jane said, as she lifted Isabelle into the car, setting her down on the seat, feeling her undies to confirm that she could wait until they got home. What Jane hadn't realized, until she went to put Isabelle's bag in the trunk, was that Isabelle had had two accidents; Isabelle's wet undies she left to school with displayed prominently at the top of her ballet bag. 'I hate that I have to do this for her, but we're going to try it out for a bit.' Jane was pleased she had stopped at the pharmacy on the way to pick Isabelle up. Unfortunately, they had only had a massive box. But with her coupons, it was basically half-off, and Jane could always give them to Jess once Isabelle got over this. But Isabelle needed more help. Her day time wetting had become too frequent, and Jane couldn't keep staying on top of Isabelle to pee all the time. Jane pulled into the driveway, before exiting the car and retrieving her daughter's things from the trunk. Jane also carried another package in a big bag, one that Isabelle couldn't quite see what was in it. Together, Isabelle and Jane walked into the house. Before Isabelle could do anything though, Jane spoke. "Sweetie, I want you to go upstairs to your room and wait for me, okay? Don't change out of your undies yet. I'll be right up." Isabelle thought it was strange that her mom wanted her to stay in her wet undies, but she wasn't about to disobey her mom. "Okay mommy," Isabelle replied, before heading up the stairs. Jane took Isabelle's ballet bag to the foot of the basement stairs, setting it down, before returning to get her other package, and carrying to it up Isabelle's room. When Jane walked in, she found Isabelle laying in the corner of the room, on her stomach, and playing with her dollhouse. Jane carried the bag over to Isabelle, and sat down on the floor with her daughter. "Sweetie, I need you to sit up for a minute. We need to talk, okay?" Isabelle sat up, unsure of what the conversation was going to be about. As she adjusted herself on to her bum, Isabelle felt her wet undies press against her. They were rather uncomfortable, and Isabelle wanted to change out of them. Jane stared at her daughter, and hesitated for a moment. This perfect, adorable girl was starring back at her with eyes like a doe. Jane was about to blindside the poor girl, but she knew she had no other option. Isabelle was such a sweet girl, and according to Miss Amber, she was doing wonderfully in class. But this problem had been going on for too long. Jane knew the problem was getting worse. Isabelle had already been wetting at night, and it seemed to be heavier and heavier. Not to mention, it seemed Isabelle was wetting her sweetnights earlier in the night and later into the mornings. But now, Isabelle was having too many daytime accidents; starting with dinner last week with Jess, and then again in the car; then again at the diner; again this morning while she was watching TV, and; now twice at school. 'This would help,' Jane reminded herself. Miss Amber, Miss Jenny, and Jess all agreed. Isabelle's pediatrician agreed. Jane had called anyone, desperate for someone to tell her this was unnecessary. But all she received instead was confirmation that this was the right thing to do. Jane hesitated again, trying to find her words, before she started. Jane took her daughter's hands in her own, and looked Isabelle straight in the eye "Isabelle, I want you to know that mommy loves you very much. And all I ever want to do is help my little Belly. You know that, right? Isabelle nodded. Of course she knew that. "Yes mommy. Why? Is something the matter?" Isabelle asked, genuinely curious. Jane smiled, feeling pity for her daughter. Even now, it seemed, Isabelle was completely unaware that there was an issue. "Yes sweetie. There is a little problem we need to talk about. Mommy has noticed that you have been having a few accidents during the day. Is that true?" Isabelle was not sure what the conversation was going to be about, but she wasn't ready for that. "NO!" Isabelle said the words before she could control herself. Then again. "Nuh-uh!" Isabelle felt angry, betrayed even. 'How dare mom accuse me of having accidents?!?! I had one! Well, two. Only today!' Isabelle's face started to turn sour. "Sweetie. Don't lie to mommy. You had two accidents today, didn't you? And what about the other night when we were out with Sam? And when you went for dinner with Jess? You've been having quite a few accidents, haven't you?" Jane wanted Isabelle to be part of the decision, but it seemed Isabelle was resisting her. 'This was never going to be easy..' Isabelle was appalled her mother would even bring those moments up. 'Those were freak accidents. One offs. They would never happen again.' Isabelle was getting madder, angrier. She didn't know what to do. She couldn't exactly combat or challenge her mom's fake statements.....She settled on the best argument she could come up with; "NO! NONONONONO!" Isabelle shouted, as she crossed her arms, and looked away from her mom. Jane sighed, reaching out with her left arm and turning her daughter's face back toward her. "Isabelle. Accidents are a natural part of learning, and growing up. It's okay if we need a little extra help sometimes. And that's all mommy wants to talk about - help. It's okay to ask for help sometimes, isn't it?" Isabelle took deep breaths, trying to calm herself down. 'I suppose that statement is agreeable.' Isabelle moved her head, just barely, up and down. 'That's all mom is getting out of me though.' Jane viewed the head nod as substantial progress. "See? Mommy asks for help when she needs it too. And Miss Amber was telling me how you were helping other students out...I think someone named Cassie...with her dancing? Its okay to ask for help when you need it. Isabelle looked back up at her mom, but kept her arms crossed. 'Well.....mom does make a decent point. I help people sometimes.' Isabelle decided that her mom was entitled to another nod, maybe just a bit bigger than last time. But she was NOT uncrossing her arms. "See sweetie! So why don't we just talk about helping you, with your daytime accidents. That's all mommy wants to talk about. And I think I came up with a pretty good solution. Lots of people use these to help out sweetie," Jane said, as she reached into her bag and pulled out one of the boxes. "Let's talk about these sweetie. Let's talk about using pullups." Isabelle was shocked. Not by what her mom was saying, but by the raw size of the bag her mom had pulled out. Isabelle could tell her mom was carrying a massive bag from the outside, but Isabelle figured it had loads of things in it. Now, the bag only had one thing left inside; her mom was holding the other. Isabelle was also shocked by her mom's proposal. Isabelle decided to reiterate her strong, unbeatable argument: "NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" It was working, Isabelle knew it. But she decided to shore it up with some follow up arguments. Her mother would be defeated in short order! "Those are for babies. I'm a big kid mom. I don't....NO!" Isabelle cried, tears beginning to come out of her eyes. Jane would not tolerate being shouted at, but knew it was no time to lose her cool. Calmly, Jane responded. "Sweetie. I know you're upset. But you cannot yell at mommy. And we're going to try these sweetie. Its going to be great, I promise." Jane knew she would have to make a better sell than that. Jane explained gently, "Pullups are just like underwear, just like the super cool undies you're already wearing. There is absolutely no difference sweetie, at all. We can even call them undies!" Isabelle continued to cry, moaning the word "no" over and over through her tears. It was breaking Jane's heart, but she knew they were almost done ripping the band-aid off. "Sweetie! All these pullups are going to do is help catch any accidents during the day. They're just a little better at catching than your undies are. It seems silly to not use the best catcher when they are right here, doesn't it?" Isabelle sniffled. She wasn't going to answer her mom. But her mom made the same point Rabbity would make on their space voyages; 'You always go exploring with the best equipment! Never settle for less. Only Rabbity-made gear puts you in the clear!' Isabelle always liked Rabbity's slogan....and having the best equipment DID help Isabelle on more than one planet exploration.... "Look," Jane continued, opening the box and pulling one of the pullups out to show Isabelle. "They're designed to be easy for you to pull up and down all by yourself, just like big girl underwear. They'll keep you dry and comfortable while your body continues to learn. And look at these AMAZING designs!! They have such better ones than those old undies! These ones have the Mutt Monitors on them! You used to love them. And this box also has ones with Rover-Roo on them, and the whole cluefinders gang!" Jane push for enthusiasm, hoping to sell Isabelle on them. Isabelle lifted her butt on to her feet, enough to see the box more closely and look at the design. Isabelle knew she had to consider this new information....'the designs are better, AND they have Rover-Roo......' Isabelle thought wiping away a tear. Isabelle felt a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips, her heart fluttering. Isabelle quickly shut it down, not wanting to give her mom and opening. But it was too late, of course. Jane had seen. Isabelle had a more pressing concern. "But......but.......mommy.......does......does.....does wearing pull-ups mean I'm not a big girl anymore?" Isabelle knew it did; it would mean she would be a baby, if she wore those. Isabelle wouldn't allow that. It was her red line. Her mother would confirm it for her, and then Isabelle would have Jane right where she wanted her. Jane hugged her daughter tightly, reassuring her, "Sweetheart, wearing pull-ups doesn't change who you are. Of course you'll still be a big girl! You are growing and learning every day. Sometimes, our bodies need a little more time, and that's okay. Wearing pullups is just a temporary anyway, until you stop having daytime accidents. LOADS of people wear pullups, even girls much older than you!" Jane wasn't sure it was true, but a little white lie never hurt. Isabelle's worry began to fade away. 'I can still be a big girl AND wear these....?' It didn't seem to make sense, Isabelle thought. But her mom had just told her she could be. 'Mommy always knows best....' Isabelle thought. If her mom said she could still be a big girl, who was she - or anyone else to question it. Isabelle wanted to tell her mom she still didn't want to wear them. She wanted to complain. She wanted to resist. Refuse to wear them anyway. She didn't need them. She wouldn't have them. No. No. No no no no no. But instead, at that moment, at the very moment the words were going to leave her mouth, the second Isabelle was going to coherently and admirably ask for another chance, to explain to her mom that she could be trusted, to ensure her mom that she could use the toilet like a big girl, that the accidents would stop, at that moment, that very moment.. ..Isabelle felt warm. She felt at ease. A calmness. A certainty. A joy and comfort. It spread throughout her body. It started at her feel, her slippers warming the base of them, tickling her little toes; it spread to her little ankles, and up her tiny shins; the joy, the happiness and acceptance, it spread to her waist, her stomach, and up through her lungs. As Isabelle exhaled, she felt that perfect feeling spread from her lungs to every corner of her body; her shoulders, to her arms, to her hands and through the very tip of her littlest fingers; Isabelle felt it spread up her neck, relaxing her tense muscles; it made its way to her lips, wiping away the words of resistance and replacing them with acceptance; it spread to her ears, the sound of her mother's proposal now sounding like sweet music; it spread to her nose, the scent of the pullup appearing like that of fresh flowers; to her eyes, the pullups looking more appealing and fun than anything she had worn before; and finally, it went up to her head, to the very tip of her skull, before - poof - it was gone again. Isabelle wasn't sure what happened. All she remembered were the next words out of her mouth. "Okay, Mommy. I think I'll give them a try." Jane's heart swelled with pride and admiration for her daughter's bravery and willingness to embrace this new solution. 'This will be good,' Jane knew it. "Okay sweetie. Why don't you let mommy help you get into your first one. Then we can out these into your drawers, and restock your sweetnights."

Well, nothing tonight. My stomach seems calm at the moment. 3 on standby. Thankfully, not this time. I don’t mind pooping my diaper at home, on my nights off. I’d rather not at work, especially the first half of the night. However, there were quite a few trips to go potty, and at least twice where the cordless phone went off while popping. Yessir. 😝

Ok so that "professor" has an actual chance to be save from the witch by just be fired, which should be a no brainer for anyone in charge of that place...unless the witch is not done with her as well. Our babies on the other side seems to be less lucky and have a 100% chance of playing a bit more with the witch. .

Chapter 9: Day One The LETO Syndicate – LittleFallenPrincess As we were wheeled down the hallways once again, heading somewhere I didn’t recall ever going, despite apparently having spent a lot of the past week there, I found my thoughts constantly drifting to my dummy. It felt so good, like… better than ever! I was actually pretty happy right now, I was in a dry nappy, I had my dummy, and Sarah was doing okay. She too looked like she was enjoying her dummy just as much as I was, which felt… good. We turned a corner to see a door I didn’t remember, but that felt familiar. “Here we are. First day of class for the little babies!” Alice said, pressing a button on the wall. The door before us opened automatically and as we were pushed inside, I suddenly felt a familiar feeling, as if we had been here. “Dis… dis is from the video!” Sarah said. Thinking back… I did remember it! Sarah was right, it was in the video during play yesterday. We must have been in here last week whilst we were regressed. So whilst it felt familiar, I still didn’t know much about it other than it looked like a typical preschool classroom, with lots of small plastic desks and colourful plastic chairs, ones that wouldn’t look out of place in a nursery or daycare, all facing the front of the room, where a blackboard was prominently displayed. “Ah, Alice. You’re the last one to arrive I think, so just place the little ones in their seats at the front of the class and you can go finish your other tasks.” A voice from the front of the classroom called out. “Mr Smith, good to see you again. I’ll just be a moment then.” Alice replied, pushing us to the front and carefully unstrapping the two of us from the stroller and lifting us up, sitting us on chairs next to each other. “You two be good girls, otherwise you’ll end up with a smacked bottom…” Alice warned before standing up and pushing the stroller away, out of the room, closing the door behind her. Sitting on the uncomfortable plastic seat, I squirmed as ‘Mr Smith’ wandered forwards and backwards at the front of the classroom, not saying a word. At least my butt had all this padding underneath it, otherwise this seat would be really uncomfortable. “Good morning class! I’m Mr Smith.” He said as he stopped and turned to face us all. We all sat patiently, not risking disobeying at this point, waiting for someone to make the first move. “I said Good morning class!” He repeated. “...Good Morning, Mr Smith…” We all called out in sync, albeit in a babyish tone. Most of us still had dummies in our mouths after all. “That’s better. Now. As you don’t remember last week when I first introduced myself, I’ll explain it again now that you are mostly yourself.” I looked up at this ‘teacher’. He wore perfectly shined shoes with even more perfect laces. Making my way up, I noticed his pants were perfectly ironed. These matched his perfectly positioned waistcoat. And his perfectly ironed white shirt. And his perfect tie. Even his stubble was perfectly symmetrical and his medium length brown hair looked flawless, tucked behind his ears. Like either this guy was incredibly vain and took way too much pride with his appearance, or this guy was a Greek god. “So… you know that you are here to be trained to be perfect babies. Whether you end up as a newborn, a baby or a toddler, you will get some taste of all three before being auctioned off to our specific clientele, and then they will decide which age you are to be for them. At which point you may have some final modifications made, before going home with them. It is my job to train and teach you little tykes to be the best babies you can be. Sure, the Nurse and the other eggheads who designed a lot of the hypnosis tech you’ve been subjected to would argue that they could program anyone to be the perfect baby. I mean… I must admit you were perfect little newborns last week. But I, and the Headmistress, believe that there’s a human touch needed to really regress you. Hypnosis opens a lot of doors, and makes my job a lot easier, but I believe I am what's needed to perfectly mould you into the infants your future Mummies and Daddies want. Whilst the eggheads created the technology, I created the programs themselves.” The way this guy talked… he sounded so… confident. Smug. But also like he was fully in control. “Now, let me explain what this week will entail for you in my class. Babyish behaviour is all about letting your inhibitions out, letting yourself go. So to do that, we shall be having lots of creative tasks. Finger painting, colouring, playing pretend… if you did it as a child, we will do it this week. The more you let out your inner baby, the more privileges you will earn. The more you try to prevent it, the more punishments you earn. It’s as simple as that. But to make things interesting… we’re going to have teams.” We all looked around at each other in confusion. “Seven teams of four. I will assign you all a colour, and think of it like your nursery partner, if one of you misbehaves or fails… you all get punished. But whichever team does the best over the week, will earn a special privilege at the end of it. The team who does the worst… will earn a special punishment.” I was scared to ask what it was, thankfully another of us who didn’t have a dummy in their mouth spoke up for the rest of us. “Umm… what are they?” A girl in the back asked. “Thank you for asking, sweetie. Sadly, that’s a surprise until the end of the week. Trust me, it’s worth being good this week.” He grinned at all of us, before turning and walking behind his desk. “Now… let’s start with colouring. I want to see how good you all are!” Day 2 Okay… so I know I skipped a bit there, but I don’t know what it was, maybe it was the hypnosis or something, but yesterday passed so quickly, it all feels like a bit of a blur. I remember… colouring lots? We had a baby bottle… we got fed in highchairs… I… It was hard to remember exactly. Like… it wasn’t like it was last week where I don’t remember anything, it was… more that I was so engrossed in the act I didn’t realise how quickly the day passed by. I know I ended up having a one on one with Alice instead of the Headmistress. Something about her having to deal with something important. I was told I’d see the Headmistress in a few days. The one on one was mostly asking how much I’m enjoying everything, testing my basic skills like maths and spelling, that kind of thing. I think it’s just a way to make sure I’m making progress. I assume that’s what we had the previous week, but we were too out of it to know or remember anything, of course. But yes, Day 2… we played outside… but… not? It looked like a big outdoor playground… but the sky… the grass… the light… Everything was artificial, we were still very much indoors. Sarah and I had been paired with a girl called Susie and her nursery-mate Claire, and we were the Red team. And currently… we were in first place. I’m not sure how the scoring system worked, but we all just played along regardless. We weren’t trying to win, we just didn’t want to end up last, as we really didn’t want to know what last place would earn us. We played tig (or tag, or whatever you want to call it these days), we went down the slides, swung on the swings, and… just generally acted like babies. Problem is… we were still very much babies at this point, not toddlers. This would have been a lot easier, and more fun, if we were toddlers. Instead, we had Nannies come in and help us down the slides, we had to crawl around to play tig, and every couple of hours one of us would be taken off for a bit whilst they had their nappy changed. It was really weird not being able to tell when I have pissed myself or not… but if I said it didn’t feel good… I’d be lying. Again, most of this felt like a blur, we kinda just… lost ourselves in the moment, so the whole day just… disappeared. I remember nursing again in the evening, and getting another one on one with Alice. She said I was making excellent progress… which made my tummy flutter for some reason. I will admit, I loved snuggling with Sarah in our crib in the evening. When everything was silent, and we were alone… if you ignored the enormous nappies between our legs, it felt… normal. As if we weren’t kidnapped prisoners in some freaky underground complex who were going to be sold to rich clients. Sarah seemed… I don’t know. It felt like maybe she had feelings for me. The way she got close in the evenings, the way she snuggles up to me, the way… she smiles at me. She’d always blush whenever she looked into my eyes… It was adorable, and also heartbreaking. Because unless we found a way out… we’d just be turned into big babies and sold off… never to see each other again. Day 3 Nursing was getting easier to accept for Sarah and I now. Which made it less awkward when we were told breakfast today was… milk, again. So after Sarah and I nursed Alice's breasts, we were dressed in the usual babyish onesies that we had been wearing the past couple of days and placed in the stroller for another day of play in the playroom. This was very much like the previous two days, with more emphasis on playing in the playroom, though more of the group from the middle joined us in playing this time. I’d say about half of our whole class were playing along, acting babyish and… having fun. Like… this wasn’t that bad if you ignored the whole ‘kidnapped and sold’ part. We got to play and have fun, we didn’t have to worry about anything… even the bathroom. Around lunchtime we were taken away one at time to be changed, as we all had messy nappies apparently, though none of us could tell. I mean we couldn’t even smell it! It must be something to do with the treatment they’re giving us. Once everyone was changed into clean, really thick, babyish nappies, we were sat in highchairs two at a time so the others could watch, and fed pureed baby food. It wasn’t bad… the texture was a bit… bleh… but the taste was okay at least. And yeah, today was just the same as yesterday… it just seemed to pass really quickly. Had the same one on one with Alice in that same room that we had to go out of the playroom for, which was boring and I gave pretty much the same answers, before returning to the playpen. I asked Sarah what hers was like and she pretty much had the same thing I did apparently. Day 4 This week seemed to fly by. We were well ahead in points, and honestly… I don’t know what could make us lose at this point. I felt bad for the group of three girls and one guy who was dressed in girly stuff, as they were dead last, and so they’d most likely receive whatever this punishment or forfeit or whatever it was. Nursing, messy nappies being changed, fed mush in highchairs… it was all the same. Today’s lesson though… that was something different. We all sat in a circle on the floor, in the classroom, facing inwards towards each other. All the desks and chairs had been moved away and stacked up in the corner, and Mr Smith walked around the circle, sinisterly. “Today class… is all about humiliation.” He said, loud enough so everyone could hear him. “WHA?” was the overall reaction from most of the class, who already sat there in thick nappies (some of which were wet and/or messy) and babyish outfits. “How can we get more humiliated than this?” Brian asked the question that must be on most of our minds. “Oh Brian… let me show you. Sit in the centre, please.” Mr Smith asked, though it sounded more like an order than a request. Brian slowly climbed to his hands and knees and crawled into the centre of the room, before sitting down with a bit of a plop onto his thickly padded backside. “Wha now?” He said with a slight babyish lisp. “As babies, especially adult babies, you will be subjected to all sorts by your new Mummies and Daddies. A lot of it will be humiliating. I’m not going to sugar coat it, some of you would shut down without help from hypnosis. So… I’ll be using that, along with some techniques I’ve developed, to help you accept even the most humiliating acts. I mean after all… you’re only babies. Babies don’t get embarrassed. So… let’s start with Brian, shall we?” Brian looked around, nervously. Stopping and looking me in the eyes, it was like he was begging me to help him, but there was nothing I could do for him. “Brian… Baby Brian… happy time.” Mr Smith said with a clear voice. Brian’s expression quickly changed. His face turned… dumber? Lifting himself up slightly, just an inch off the floor… he proceeded to grunt and clench his whole body. And a few seconds later, a disgusting sound filled the room as he filled his nappy. “Doesn’t that feel better, baby Brian?” Brian sat down with the same plop as before, though this time the mess in his nappy must have made that even more disgusting. “Do you like that? Playing in your messy nappy?” Mr Smith continued the teasing. Brian started clapping in response and drooling, bouncing up and down on the spot. “Why don’t you show us how happy that makes you feel?” Mr Smith said, before throwing a large stuffed bear into the circle next to Brian. “Now class… the important thing here is… Brian is fully conscious right now. He’s fully aware of his actions… he’s just not in control. Thanks to the hypnotic training you’ve all been through, I can make you do whatever I want, whilst making you watch helplessly from the back of your mind.” “That… that’s horrible!” Sarah said, a bit too loudly. “Sarah… Baby Sarah… happy time.” Sarah’s face dropped suddenly, becoming more like Brian’s. And just like Brian… she lifted her butt up and proceeded to mess herself audibly for the whole room to hear. “No more interruptions. Got that class?” Mr Smith announced. Everyone instantly looked terrified and shut their mouths in fear. “Now… Baby Brian? Ignore that stuffed bear. You and Baby Sarah can show each other how much you enjoy being messy little babies.” Both regressed adults nodded as Sarah crawled over to Brian and sat down, before Brian pushed her back and clambered onto her. And to everyone’s disgust, they started grinding their messy nappies against each other, moaning as they pleasured themselves in front of everyone. “I know Baby Brian hasn’t been playing along with the class much, so that’s why I picked him out first. Sarah was just a naughty little girl who interrupted. Now… I think you all need to follow their example. Class…” Everyone’s eyes widened in fear as Mr Smith’s grin grew. “Happy…” Before he could finish his command, a knock on the door rang through the classroom. We all turned to see who had saved us at the last second. Well… everyone but Sarah and Brian, who were still rubbing their nappies together and moaning. The door to the classroom opened to reveal the Headmistress, standing there, looking as gorgeous as ever. “Headmistress… I’m honoured to have you observe this class, whatever can I help you with?” Mr Smith asked her. “Oh wow… Those two are having a lot of fun!” The Headmistress said, pointing at my friend and Brian rubbing nappies. “Looks like I arrived at the worst time.” “I was just about to set the whole class off to have fun like that.” “Well as enjoyable as that would be, I need to take little Judy here for her one on one session with me.” “Now?” Mr Smith sounded disappointed. But the Headmistress put on her most stern face in response. “You know why.” She growled. “Yes, Headmistress.” Smith replied, defeated. Walking over to me, her high heels muffled by the carpeted floor, she bent down and lifted me up with no effort and stood up straight, holding me in her arms. My legs naturally wrapped themselves around her waist. “Judy… cover your ears.” She ordered. And so I did exactly that. Shoving my fingers in my ears, I wasn’t going to waste this opportunity to get out of this weird stuff. Now I couldn’t hear a thing, but the Headmistress’ lips moved as said something and suddenly all the class stared off into space before following our two horny classmate’s example, filling their nappies and drooling onto the carpet. The Headmistress pulled my hands away from my ears before smiling at me. “Let’s go talk whilst they have their fun, shall we, precious?” ========================================================= Oops! I forgot to update the title on Sunday, so if you missed that, sorry! 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 four chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of LETO Syndicate 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!

Hey everyone so this is part 2 of 3 of chapter 2. Third part will be published this weekend...if I dont get called into work. Thank you everyone for your comments. And enjoy! Chapter 2.2 Walking into history class already in progress was going to be a messy affair. First of all Mr. Graham talks very loudly. I know that doesn’t seem too strange but it is when you consider the history is in the classrooms above the library so when you enter from downstairs you can already hear him clear as day. I can’t tell you how many librarians we’ve had since he started but fortunately our current one takes her hearing aid out during his class times. I knocked on the door as the door handle is too high for me. Mr. Graham opened the door “Mr. Case!” he yelled. “Class starts at exactly 1:00pm,” he looked at his wristwatch, “It is 1:06pm.” “If you will let me sir, I can take him to the campus nursery and you can get beck to teaching. I’m sure he would prefer to learn with crayons and wooden blocks than history,” some amazon girl said from within the class. I pulled the note from Principle Higgins out of my pocket. “It’s tempting,” Mr. Graham was still shouting, “Why should I-“ his voice paused as he took the note from me. He scanned over it, basically just tell him that I was in a meeting with her and the VP and to excuse me with no repercussions. “Take a seat Mr. Case” he motioned me to the back of the class. “Aren’t you going to send him to the nursery?” the same amazon girl chimed in. “Quiet Ms. Slovsky,” he rebutted. Every seat was taken, passing by all the tables. The one open seat… …was beside Bree Daniels. She was smiling, that small smile of someone whose heart warmed immediately. She didn’t wait for me to get into the chair herself. A large booster chair had already been set up, she picked me up and set me in the chair, buckling me into it. The chair put me at even height with the table so I could use it like any other amazon. “Hey Aaron,” she whispered. “Hi” I replied. “Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much. Just the syllabus and schedule for when papers are due.” She handed me a syllabus. The remainder of the class was the start of ancient Egypt. All the while Bree would occasionally give a sideways glance. No matter what I personally think of Bree or her attractiveness it goes without saying she’s incredible smart. She has the fourth highest GPA in our class. For over an hour and a half we listened to him yell about ancient Egypt, even brushing over how littles were more often to be Pharaoh’s then Amazons, which got a lot of laughter from the class and several stares my way. Thankfully the bell rang. Everyone stood, gathering their tablets and backpacks. I couldn’t push myself away from the desk so I simply packed my bag and waited for a few seconds. Once Bree was finished she turned, picking me up out of the booster seat. “Ready to go Aaron?” she asked. “I didn’t know that littles ruled ancient Egypt, did you?” I nodded. I knew littles had ruled throughout history at times but not that far in the past. It reminded me of some myths I’ve heard through the years. Though amazons have twisted some. Like Leos, the Greek god children and innocence; over the years amazons continuing to point out that he was the god of diapers and truth of childlikeness for littles. It goes like that for many things. Bree didn’t set me down as I thought she would. Instead she had me on her hip as she moved out of the classroom. As the last ones there weren’t many around to see it but I still didn’t want this to become too ‘normal’ for her. I opened my mouth to voice this but just realized that it’s just pointless to voice objection. Don’t get me wrong, I strongly object to all of this but Bree isn’t taking me to her car. She tuned left at the foot of the stairs outside of the library and is walking back to the main building. Past the main steps, the now turned off metal detector and auto closet. Striding past the gold mako shark statue Bree clicks the call button for the elevator. As we waited for the elevator to come down I felt Bree’s left hand move from my waist to my pant and gave my diaper a slight squeeze. “Are you dry Aaron?” I nodded as the door pinged and we stepped in. I’d only been in the school elevator a couple of times but I’m still amazed at how big it actually is. Bree clicked the button for the fourth floor. Unauthorized Occupant. Please exit elevator or provide payment. The voice was clear and loud. Bree used her left hand to take a keycard from the breast pocket of her blazer and swiped it across the screen. The computer processed for a few seconds before a green checkmark came up on screen. Thank you Ms. Daniels The elevator proceeded up smoothly. As it rose Bree put the keycard back in her pocket and returned to checking my diaper despite my honesty of being dry. “Your doing so good today Aaron. You normally go through more diapers than you have today,” she said with a giggle. ‘Not really’ I thought, but the last thing I want is to give Bree an actual count number and have her keep track so instead I thought to just shift her mind elsewhere. “Hey Bree could you do me a favor?” “Yes I accept” she affirmed quickly and without thought. “You don’t even know what the favor is yet,” I replied. She blushed and…OMG Bree, when she is blushing, is one of the most beautiful sights you will ever see in your life. I can’t even fully describe it. With her shoulder length red hair that smells like strawberries, those green eyes and fair but sun-kissed skin she was already the idol of many guy’s wet dreams. And yes I can admit I have a crush on her too. But when her cheeks blushed I could not stop the tent in my diaper. And to make matters worse I felt the padding slightly stretch and touch Bree in the side. I couldn’t think. I was just hoping she didn’t feel it. “I’m sorry,” she responded. “Go ahead.” “Could you ask Katy if she has a partner yet?” Bree blinked at me. I thought I may have broken her because she didn’t even blink until the elevator pinged and the doors open. Fortunately no one was in the hallway at that moment. She seemed to recompose herself as she stepped out of the elevator. “A partner?” “Yes. We have AP Economics together and I need a partner. I was just wondering if she still needed one.” “Oh, yes” there was that blush again in her cheeks. “I can do that Aaron.” “Is something wrong?” We’d stopped outside the door of the coding classroom. “I was just hoping you were going to ask me to adopt you,” there was sadness to her voice and it made me feel guilty to reject her but I don’t want a little baby life. Not now, not ever. “I’m sorry. I like you Bree but I just don’t want to be adopted. I’ve got plans and dreams to accomplish. I can’t do them from inside a crib.” I’m not sure if my words sank in or if something else happened but Bree’s smile came back like sunshine after a storm. It was as though what I had said had been forgotten. “Don’t you worry Aaron, as smart as you are I’m sure you can accomplish anything you put your mind too. No matter where you are or what diapers you wear,” she kissed my forehead, patted my diaper butt toward the door. “I will ask Katy when I see her.” And she was gone. I’m serious, she walked away with a spring in her step. I thought over all of my words, trying to understand the sudden change in her behavior. The bell rang as I entered the room Mr. Tully helped me into the high chair and slide the tray into place at the front of the class. An empty seat was next to me. Mr. Tully walked into the room. Dressed in a polka dot vest over a lavender shirt with a blue bow tie. Khaki pants, two watches (one on each wrist) and dark rimmed glasses he was the ever loving geek of the school administration. Brilliant but odd. “So, welcome back class.” “Hello Professor Tully” we said in unison. “You’ll notice many of your fellow students are missing,” I glanced around and he was right. Of the 50 classmates we had last semester were now down to 23. “Anyone care to guess why?” He called on an amazon male in the back, “You separated us into two classes?” “Is that an answer or a question?” Mr. Tully remarked. There was no response. He called on Dylan who sat on the opposite side of the room also in the very front. “The students missing are those who failed the final last semester,” Dylan said. “Correct Mr. Farnum. Yes they all received D’s and F’s.” He looked around at all of us, if it were up to me anyone who fails should be sent back to preschool and learn what it means to apply effort.” There was some snickering as I imagined many eyes went to me. “For those of you who think Mr. Case should be among them,” he approached the middle and back of the class. I couldn’t see but I imagine he was eyeing them with disdain. “Mr. Case is one of four that received an A on the final.” I wish he wouldn’t do that, I don’t need them having even more thoughts of hurting me than they already do. “The others are Ms. Li,” he nodded to an amazon of Asian descent. “Mr. Farnum” he nodded to Dylan as he took his position back in the front of the class. “And Ms. Parker…Where is Ms. Parker?” He was about to continue when a knock came from the door. Mr. Tully grumbled that he didn’t allow late comers until he noticed a female amazon teacher, near Mr. Tully’s age, was standing with Rosalie. “Apologies professor, I entered the wrong class on Ms. Parker’s schedule. She was supposed to be assigned here to this class but the mistake sent her downstairs,” she said. “Mistakes do happen,” he smiled. Holy crap Mr. Tully is smiling at the teacher. Yuck, it’s always weird watching adults flirt. I imagine for Rosalie it’s even more so since she is in between them. She can’t really enter because Mr. Tully is blocking the door. After a few moments of comments and giggles Dylan cleared his throat. Disrupting Mr. Tully’s thought and returned him to class, allowing Rosalie to enter. She took the seat next to me. Rosalie had a classic look to her. Straight blonde hair to her shoulders, one blue eye and one green. Her lips made a cupids bow, light pink but I couldn’t tell if it was natural or lip gloss. She stood a foot and a half taller than me without heels so even with a high chair I just barely made above her height. No freckles and a single pierced ear in each ear. Moving to set her tablet on the table brought a whiff of black raspberry and vanilla. Rosalie was pretty. “Now!” Mr. Tully closed the door with a thud and turned back to us. “Do not forget, your end of the year projects are due the last week of April and for many of you who are barely remaining in this class I suggest you get to it.” He clicked a button on his terminal and immediately all of our computer screens lit up with coded text. “A little welcome back challenge, to see if you’ve kept up your skills.” The code was brilliant…and dangerous, just looking at its pattern this code was going to… “It’s a worm” Ms. Li spoke up “Correct” Mr. Tully remarked. “I’ve closed off this lab from the school and this worm is now on all of your computers. You have thirty minutes and fifty two seconds to isolate the code and deconstruct it before it eats your terminal. If you fail in that time your computer will be wiped and you will spend the rest of this class re-loading the operating systems while I give my lecture. BEGIN!” His terminal turned into a countdown clock. Counting down to our destruction. I pulled my wireless keyboard from my bag and linked up to my terminal. I started isolating and decoding at the same time, going through the lines. It was definitely a challenge trying to keep up with its code. It was all over the place and the clock was ticking down. With less than ten minutes left I’d finished most of the work but what I couldn’t isolate was the worm’s base code. I just couldn’t see it. *PING* A chatbox opened on my screen…from Rosalie. [It’s 4 and 9] Huh? What on earth could she— Wait! I re read the worms code and she was right the base code of the worm was going back and forth between four and nine and no other numbers. I rushed the keyboard typing as fast as I could. I could tell Dylan and Ms. Li were already finished. Rosalie finished just before I did with three minutes remaining. I deleted the chatbox and wiped the digital fingerprints of both our terminals. I mouthed a thank you too she and she giggled before going back to her tablet. I sat in silence as I watched the clock fall further and further to the last seconds. When the clock struck zero I could tell at least a third of the class just lost their computers. Some skirted in at the last possible second but it was easy to know who had failed. “Will all of those who failed please stand up,” Mr. Tully said. “As is customary for my class,” his face took on a joyful expression, “ha haha ha ha haha ha ha hahaha you failed!” he cheered, and on the word failed his face went back to the no expression face we’ve all come to know of him. The students returned to their seats, I smiled to myself knowing Shelly Henning was among the failures now having to pay attention to the lecture and load a computer operating system. When the bell finally rang the students all stood up to leave. I patiently waited for Mr. Tully. “Mr. Farnum would you please join Ms. Parker and Mr. Case for a moment,” he said. Dylan finished packing his bag up before moving through the crowd to stand behind me. Shelly and one or two others set a diaper on my tray. I just shrugged. I’d already peed my diaper during this class but I didn’t want them changing me. It was quiet when the last student left and the door closed. “I wanted to inform you that you three are my choices to enter into the national High School Coding Competition this year. Mr. Case was already aware of this but I wanted to let Ms. Parker and Mr. Farnum know as well.” “What about Ms. Li? She is just as smart as us?” Dylan replied. Mr. Tully cleared his throat. “Yes, Ms. Li is quite brilliant but she lacks imagination, plus each school is only allowed to submit three entries” he said. We all looked at one another, none of us were sure how to take that. He sat on his desk in front of us. “Think of it like this, Ms. Li is a brilliant coder but she can only do what she’s asked is a perfect way. You three on the other hand are outside the box thinkers.” Again we looked at him weird. “Think of coding like painting picture. If I asked Ms. Li to paint a beautiful landscape she would paint it. It would be a perfect image but it would convey no emotion. You three would go about it your own ways and paint me the same picture but your uniqueness and skills would make something like no one has seen and the emotions from it would be staggering. That’s why I chose you three.” Rosalie and I couldn’t help but smile and though I couldn’t see Dylan I imagined his chest puffed up in pride. “Now, I’ve been getting updates on all of your projects. The deadline to submit the projects for the competition is February 1st, is that possible?” he asked. We all nodded. “Excellent. I look forward to see the completed works.” And with that Dylan helped me out of the chair. Rosalie and Dylan left the room as I was finishing putting my tablet away. I knew what would be waiting for me outside and I just decided to go with it. Opening the door there was Bree with her entourage. “Hi Aaron” they said in unison. The giggles drowning out the echo from the empty hallway. “Hello” I replied. I walked like I was going to them but veered right. It didn’t take them but a few seconds to catch up to me. “Where are you off too in such a hurry?” one of them asked. “To use the bathroom, go to my—“ “There’s no need to use the restroom sweetie” another one said. A hand fell on my shoulder as my backpack was removed and a hand pulled my pants open. “Someone has a soggy diapee” Bree said. I was picked up and held facing Bree, my face was practically laying on her breast as she cradle carried me down the stairs to the family restroom. Inside the three girls came and soon I found myself on the changing table with my shoes missing. Bree had taken central in my view while her two friends were on either side of the watching me. It something off in Amazon psychology. If a little or baby is getting a diaper change, for whatever the reason, other amazon females want or need to watch it. Whether or not it’s their own child. To my left, (Bree’s right) was Katy Avery. Katy was in my Econ class and while she would not be my first choice of partner for my project she was a better alternative than the others. Tall, slim, blonde hair that reached the middle of her back, green eyes like summer grass and not a mole, freckle or birthmark could be seen on her. Like Bree she was a cheerleader and her toned muscles practically shouted of a girl that spent plenty of time in a gym. She was holding my backpack and my shoes. To my right (Bree’s left) was Dakota Moore. Dakota was a stark contrast to Bree and Katy. While around the same height she had dark chocolate colored hair and chestnut eyes. She was pale, smaller breasts than her friend but she made it up in being more petite in frame and toned in muscle. Which by all accounts shouldn’t be surprising, Dakota has been doing ballet since preschool. She has a laugh that many in the school, myself included, described it as warmth for the ears. All three came from money. All three of their moms were best friends the same as their daughters. Beautiful, brains and bodies. Overall you could say these three dominated high school. Of course I could be biased given that I was laying on a changing table and not allowed to leave. Something strange was going on however. Before I could even protest my school uniform was being removed until I was laying in just my diaper on the padded table. “OMG did you hear what happened to Tagger this morning. Half the football team found him barely able to walk down the hallway,” Katy stated as the tapes of my diaper were removed. Bree started playing my feet and making me giggle as she made my feet make a bicycle motion which caused the diaper to fall off me and turn my face 10 shades of red. “Awe look at the cute baby” Dakota remarked. “So happy to be getting a diapee change” Katy said. “What do you say Aaron, is he enjoying his diaper change?” Bree remarked and she folded it away properly. I just couldn’t bring myself to answer her question. I covered my steadily rising penis which only set the girls off even more. Each of them took a wipe with Bree lifting my ankles with one hand. Together they cleaned my butt thoroughly before wrapping the wipes up in the used diaper. A thick crawler diaper appeared from somewhere (because crawlers are not kept in school bathrooms). Dakota unfolded it and slid it under me as Katy handed Bree the open container of baby powder. While the smell has always bothered me, Bree’s hands were warm, they were gentle. Why did I have to be born a little? “I heard Tagger’s mom came to the school screaming holy hell about the mistreatment of her son” Dakota replied. “How on earth did that happen?” Katy asked. “I head the Auto-closet did it to him, some kind of malfunction” Dakota said. “Mr. Tully, in computer class, made a mention of illegal equipment that Tagger meant as a prank and then he fell into his own prank. Supposedly he put it into a littles locker.” All of their eyes looked on at me with a still open diaper and only my hand covering my private parts. They gave me a look that said ‘was it you?’ They waited for me to respond. “Let’s just say no one ever regarded Tagger as having brains outside of football” I finally said. A shiver went down my spine that made me twitch on the changing table. The girl burst out into laughter and played with my feet for a few moments more. This caused me too giggle profusely as the diaper front was raised by Bree and taped firmly shut. She rubbed her hands over the tapes and the front of this very…very thick diaper. I couldn’t even close my legs much. It was a big pillow bulge between my legs. “Awe who’s a cute baby in his diaper?” Dakota tickled under my chin. I didn’t smile or make any response. The silence was broken when another student knocked on the door before coming in. “Aaron?” the young woman said. I turned to look at her, I knew her name was Becca and she was on the debate team but outside of that I didn’t know her (If you get what I mean). The girls started giggling as Bree played with my feet which made me laugh again. “What do you need Becca?” Dakota asked. “Oh” she shook her head out of the distraction, “The bus driver is waiting for Aaron and he sent several of us looking for him.” “He’s fine, please let the driver know I’m taking him home today,” Bree replied. I was surprised and was about to protest when I found a pacifier placed in my slightly open mouth. Becca seemed to accept this and told us all goodbye. I would have spit the pacifier out at them but I thought better of it. That could anger them and they could put an inflatable one in or strap it to my head. Or they could ignore it and put it back in anyway. They could have a long talk with me about how mature boys don’t do that or (and the worst idea) they might full on spank me. I decided to just suck on the pacifier and watched their faces grow warm with smiles and little noises girls make that travel to guy libido. They started talking about other things with their day from the start of cheerleading season for basketball to things seen and heard in various classes. While all of this was going on Bree was being handed articles of clothing by Dakota and Katy. A pair of bootie in a mint green color with ribbons tying into a bow on each. Mint green mittens on each hand also tied into a bow with ribbon. An onesie, also in mint green that passed over my head. The sleeves were short like a t-shirt and it fell over my body and easily over the thick diaper, closing at the crotch with snaps. My legs and arms were left exposed. Soon Bree had lifted me against her chest, my head level with her mouth which she took opportunity to kiss my forehead. One of her hands rested on my back essentially pinning me against her and the other cupping my diapered bottom. The school was empty except for a few teachers and the janitorial staff busy cleaning the halls and bathrooms. Passing the doors and hallways I was grateful no one was around to see me. After a quick stop by my locker to get my lunchbox we made it outside to the parking lot and the wind hit me hard. Winter in Abkani may seem weird to many people. It’s sunny and rains very little. Most people think of winter on the east coast where the temperatures drop to the 10’s, 20’s and 30’s but here the winters are the low 50’s but given that average temperature is always in the 80’s and 90’s and the lows in the summers are mid 70’s. So for those of us in Abkani it made me feel like freezing. To her credit Bree turned her body to take the brunt of the wind though since all three of the girls were wearing skirts and knew high socks it couldn’t have been fun for them. Personally it would have been better if they’d left me in my school uniform (which the girls had folded and placed it in my backpack along with my shoes. Soon we arrived at Bree’s SUV, she opened the back and strapped into the little car seat with a five point harness that I could not move any part of my torso. And because it was angled back and was big I could barely move my head left and right. Bree, I assumed, was in the driver’s seat and Dakota in the passenger seat because Katy was the only one who sat in the backseat behind Bree. The car started and some modern pop music came on through the speakers of the car. Bree immediately lowered the volume for us before pulling out into traffic. “So Aaron, Bree says you would like me to be your partner for Econ class?” Katy asked. She stroked my cheek before gently removing the pacifier from my mouth. “Yes. I need a partner. I didn’t know if you have a partner already or not.” “No I don’t have one yet. I thought Charlie Cox was going but he’s all over Jean and her big boobs.” “Most of the others in class are already in partners and those left most either don’t want to partner with me or were crueler to littles.” Katy listened intently. “Your smart in economics and you have a lot of creativity I think if we work together we can do our business project and easily get an A,” I said. It was true. Don’t get me wrong Katy is baby crazed like every other Amazon, yet at this moment she is the least horrible of my options. I went on to explain a few thoughts and ideas that we both could do for the project and laid out division of labor so we both could get equal credit. Katy thought on it for a few moments. She agreed on Aaron’s logic of dividing the work. She wanted to change a few things with the business model but her conversation was very lively and she was visibly getting excited for the class. In the end she agreed to be my partner for the class. To which Bree and Dakota congratulated them (you’d think I was an amazon and had just proposed for marriage0. “However…” Katy came back. Oh no, now she’s going to put in stipulations of clothing to wear and whatever. “Your home is for inbetweeners so I’m not entirely comfortable with bending down for a few hours to work on this project. So why don’t we meet at my house or some public location to work on the project?” Going into an amazon’s home would be equal to walking into a pride of lions with meat attached to my neck. Even in a public setting there was little I could do that would protect me. Maybe we could do some work around the school and limit our time outside of class. The vehicle came to a stop. I agreed. We exchanged emails to go over things further. It was only then that I realized the car wasn’t moving and the engine was shut off. Katy unbuckled me and lifted me out of the car, passing me to Bree whose face lit up with joy as she kissed my cheek before setting me on her hip. She’d buttoned me inside of her blazer so my legs were protected from the wind. It was very warm inside her jacket and the soft fabric of her vest grazed my skin. I looked around and realized we were in a parking lot. In front of us was a traditional park with green grass, a sandbox, plenty of seating for mothers and such along with a play set for children but currently no one was there except for a few amazons jogging around the park. To our left however was a skate park full of concrete, half pipes and all other manner of obstacles and handlebars for various tricks. We were moving toward the skate park.

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

Same here. A wet bed never bothered me and still doesn't.

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