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The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 46 The rest of the evening much the same as the prior. Isabelle found comfort in the routine of it all; after they dropped Becky off at home, Isabelle and her mom returned to the comfort of their own house. Jane had chided Isabelle for having yet another accident, but Isabelle hadn't been bothered; she had tried to go at school and didn't need to, and then needed to go later in the car, and so did. Isabelle didn't see the problem. Dinner was smooth, and bath time had been less of an ordeal than the night prior as Isabelle was less confused when her mom had entered the bathroom with her. After Isabelle's bath, her mom had made her sit on the toilet for nearly half an hour. Isabelle had whined and complained the whole time. She had been bored, and didn't need to go. But after the full half hour, Isabelle found herself peeing. "See?" Jane had said in a 'told-you so' kind of voice. "Told you that you needed to go. Mommy knows best." Isabelle had been irritated by her mom's decision to mock her. "I didn't need to go when you made me sit down! You've just forced me to sit here, for like, forever!" Isabelle cried out from the toilet seat, as her mom bent over to help her wipe. Jane wasn't particularly fond of Isabelle's decision to raise her voice, but it was past the girl's bedtime, and Isabelle was obviously cranky. "Okay cranky pants. Up on your stool and brush your teeth. You took so long to pee its already past your bedtime." Isabelle complied, before her mom lifted her up back into her room, into her night diaper, and off to bed. As with her night, Isabelle's morning passed much the same as the prior morning had. Isabelle, unsurprisingly, woke up to a very wet diaper. Isabelle was growing used to the squishy padding underneath her in the mornings. In fact, she looked forward to it. Something about her night time diapers just made things easier. 'I feel rested in the morning. I can sleep without worrying about accidents. It just frees my mind up for more important things.' Isabelle had decided. And Isabelle had important things to focus her mind on that day. Yesterday had been positively too much fun, and Isabelle later regretted that she had allowed herself to become so distracted by her fun day at preschool that she hadn't even consulted her investigative journal once to further her new magical theory. 'Today I'll be more focused,' Isabelle decried. But even as she thought it to herself, her mind was racing to other subjects, such as what Miss Deena would have planned for the morning class. More and more, Isabelle was finding herself more easily and happily distracted. 'It's kind of nice,' Isabelle realized, as she shimmied herself to a more comfortable position to allow herself to freely pee into her already sodden diaper. As Isabelle's pee tapered off, she decided to make her way downstairs herself that morning. As she climbed down the stairs holding Rabbity, Isabelle could feel her diaper drooping between her thighs, the warm comfort of her recent wetting pressing against the inside of her leg with each step she took, all the way to the bottom. Isabelle turned toward the kitchen, where she spotted her mom. Isabelle couldn't help herself as she ran toward Jane, wrapping her arms around her moms legs. "MOMMY!" Jane couldn't help but smile. After breakfast, Jane helped Isabelle get dressed for the day, first by removing her soaking wet diaper, and wiping Isabelle clean, before changing her into a fresh pullup. Moments later, Isabelle was downstairs in a simple pair of leggings and a t-shirt, and today at least, matching socks insider of her light up running sneakers. Just like that, Isabelle was off to preschool with a smile. Isabelle arrived to class early, leaving her mom in the dust as she jaunted into class, looking for anyone and anything to play with. Jane could only laugh as she set Isabelle's backpack with her lunch into her cubby, before waving goodbye to Miss Deena, giving the teacher a 'fingers crossed' sign for a better potty day for her daughter. Miss Deena nodded back in acknowledgment. As Isabelle explored the preschool that morning, she found that she had arrived earlier than she had yesterday, and there weren't many other kids around. Those that were there, Isabelle was unfamiliar and unsure of, so Isabelle looked for something else to do. Not long later, Isabelle found herself pre-occupied in one of the reading nooks by herself, where she had taken a nearby picture book with her. Isabelle sat down and flipped through the book. Based on all of the images on the pages, Isabelle concluded the book was about a fairy princess. But Isabelle was still not able to read any of the words on the pages, though she recognized a good number of the letters. So Isabelle decided to invent a story, turning the pages as she recited aloud to herself. Isabelle found herself giggling away at one of the pages where she had decided that the fairy slipped on a banana peel when she felt the need to pee to use the potty come on. Isabelle looked up to see if Miss Deena was nearby, but she wasn't. Isabelle looked back down at her book, struggling with herself to decide what she should do. Part of her knew that she was supposed to go find a teacher, or even just go to the potty herself. But part of her questioned if that was the right thing to do. After all, she was in school to learn, and right now, she was learning how to read - or at least that was what she told herself. 'Wouldn't it be more right to sit here and continue to learn, than to stop my reading lesson for something as silly a the potty?' Isabelle questioned 'After all, mommy put me in a pullup so that I can have accidents,' Isabelle thought to herself, as her stomach rumbled again. Isabelle was not sure what to do, and her head was hurting just thinking about it. Fortunately, the decision was made for her. "Good morning Isabelle!" Kelly called, as she sat down in the plastic chair opposite Isabelle in the reading nook. "I see you are doing quite a lot of story telling this morning. This looks like so much fun!" Kelly turned her chair, to see where Isabelle was, and followed along as Isabelle told her about her nonsensical story of a fairy princess. Kelly looked down at the book, seeing what it was actually about. 'Not even in the ballpark,' Kelly laughed to herself. "Why don't we put the book down and take a potty break?" Kelly proposed, as both Kelly and Isabelle heard the little girl's tummy rumble once more. Isabelle nodded; it wasn't that she necessarily wanted to go to the potty - it was simply out of convenience. Kelly was already there asking to take her - 'I might as well just go at this point.' Isabelle stood up and took Kelly's hand, following her into the potty. The process in the bathroom was much the same as the day prior with Samantha. Isabelle did her business, and half-heartedly wiped herself. Kelly had apparently been given a heads up about the brown streaks in Isabelle's pullup the day earlier, and intervened before Isabelle could get off the potty. "Nuh-uh sweetie. That wasn't a very good job wiping. Let Miss Kelly help you." Kelly proceeded to stand Isabelle up and bend her over, wiping Isabelle's bottom clean. 'If she insists,' Isabelle thought to herself, as she happily exposed her butt for Kelly to clean her up, before pulling her pullup and leggings up her legs. "Isn't that better sweetie? Going to the potty like a good girl?" Isabelle wanted to shrug. She wanted to not react at all, in fact. Isabelle was beginning to question whether it really was the more mature decision after all, thinking back on how this process interrupted story time twice in two days now. But Isabelle knew there was a right answer to Kelly's question. "Yes Miss Kelly." Plus, there was one added bonus, Isabelle recalled as she washed her hands. "Do I get a sticker now?" Miss Kelly smiled and confirmed that yes, Isabelle would get a sticker, pulling out a "WAY TO GO!" sticker with a unicorn on it. It really was one excellent sticker, and Isabelle happily placed it next to her name on the potty chart. Isabelle smiled, before making her way back into the main preschool area where she found Becky and Julia. Isabelle went to her cubby quickly to retrieve her sippy bottle of water, when she saw that Jess was leaving, and waved goodbye to her, as Miss Deena started class for the day. Isabelle took a seat on the big comfy run in the center of class as Miss Deena explained the morning activity. "Today we are going to have such a great day everyone." Isabelle could feel Miss Deena's energy. Isabelle believed her too - it was going to be a great day. Isabelle couldn't help but turn to Julia and smile, lifting her cross legs off the ground, unable to quell her excitement. Isabelle was practically bouncing. "Miss Kelly is going to go around and give out the exact same wooden blocks to everyone - there is no need to take anyone else's blocks," Miss Deena emphasized. "And its important that you all have the same blocks in order to be able to build the shapes we are going to build together." Isabelle's curiosity picked up, her attention squarely on Miss Deena, as Kelly was going around and handing the blocks out. "What we are going to do today is use our blocks to build various structures and shapes. Miss Kelly and I will build a shape in the middle for everyone to see, and you will all try to build the same shape. Doesn't that sound fun?" Isabelle wasn't even able to process whether she thought it sounded fun or not - she did - and found herself nodding rapidly, just as Kelly handed Isabelle her blocks. "Now, let's start by all counting together how many blocks we each have in front of us, okay? All together now!" Isabelle found herself picking the blocks sitting in front of her up one at a time to help her count. "One...Two......'Freee," Isabelle started, as she picked up to rectangle blocks, and one cylindrical block, "....Four......and uh.......uhhh....." Isabelle missed calling out the number "Five" with the rest of the class as they all did, the number having temporarily escaped her memory. 'Of course! Five!' Isabelle thought, as she thrust her pyramid shaped block into the air. Isabelle did her best to mimic the shapes as Miss Deena and Kelly built all sorts of structures in front of the class. At first, it was easy; the structures only involved stacking two or three blocks. Isabelle, Becky, and Julia were all able to easily follow along as they first watched Miss Deena and Kelly put their blocks together, and then did their best to copy them. Sometimes Isabelle's structure would topple over and fall. But Julia and Becky's did the same, and it Isabelle found herself giggling as the blocks tumbled. As the morning went on, however, Isabelle found herself struggling to build the structures that Miss Deena and Kelly were. It started when Miss Deena introduced a fourth block into the structure. it had taken Isabelle some time to figure out how the pieces went together. "Like this Isabelle," Kelly said, as she helped Isabelle turn her rectangle on its short side, fitting into the other pieces. "Oh," was all Isabelle muttered. It seemed so obvious now that Kelly put it together. But even when Isabelle knocked it over to try herself, having seen Kelly do it up close for her, she was unable to finish it the same way. When Miss Deena started including all five pieces, however, Isabelle found herself getting incredibly frustrated. Isabelle could barely follow along as Miss Deena and Kelly twisted and turned the blocks into strange and complex structures. No matter how hard Isabelle tried, she kept failing. Isabelle simply couldn't figure it out, and she felt like crying. Isabelle fought off some tears, and turned toward Becky to see how she was faring. Isabelle was comforted by the sight of Becky all together having given up it seemed, smashing her blocks together and making dinosaur noises instead of doing the exercise. But when Isabelle turned to Julia, Isabelle saw that Julia was succeeding. It angered Isabelle that Julia could make the structures but she couldn't. 'She's just a stinky diaper baby,' Isabelle thought to herself, before realizing how mean that was. Instead, Isabelle took a deep breath and decided to ask for help. "Julia........" Isabelle started, barely whispering, but catching her friend's attention. Isabelle lifted her finger and pointed toward Julia's tall, strong structure. "Can you show me how to do that?" Julia nodded and crawled over to Isabelle, gently guiding Isabelle's hands as they held the blocks into the right spots. After about five full minutes, Julia backed her hands away as Isabelle set the final block in their last exercise. It wasn't perfect like Kelly's but it was a lot closer to what they were aiming for. 'Thanks Julia," Isabelle compassionately offered, as she hugged her friend, not realizing that she was releasing her bladder whilst doing so. "No problem Belly!" Julia exclaimed, as she hugged her friend back. Becky, not wanting to be left out, decided to get up and join the group hug as well. Isabelle felt warm and fulfilled, as her pullup was warmed and filled. ****** The afternoon had passed very much like the day prior. After lunch, Miss Deena very publicly determined that Isabelle's pullup could last her through her nap. Isabelle was not really bothered by the declaration - she was only with Julia and Becky at the time, or so she thought. One of the older girls named Brandy who was nearby snickered as she overheard Miss Deena talk about Isabelle's accident. Brandy was in big girl panties -she had more stickers than anyone at preschool, a fact she like to remind everyone of. It made Isabelle feel a bit guilty for having had an accident. Miss Deena's assessment had been accurate, but just barely. As Isabelle rose from her nap, she could feel a larger than normal squish underneath her. Kelly went about changing Isabelle into a fresh pullup - "this one was hanging on by threads," Kelly had announced to no one in particular as she sprayed a generous amount of powder on to Isabelle before pulling the fresh pullup up her legs. After nap time, the preschoolers went through rotating activities in groups. Groups were put together alphabetically based on the letters of your first name. Isabelle found herself in a group with a Henry, a Justin, and luckily, Julia. Isabelle moved with her group to various stations; first her group was assigned to a rubber band station, where the team needed to work together to try and build a rubber band ball. Next, Isabelle rotated with her group to a table with a set of train tracks with Kelly. Kelly removed some of the tracks, and the group needed to work together to fit the pieces back into the track, before moving the train in a big circle. After the train station, Isabelle's group was told to go to the individual reading nooks where they were told they could color or pick out a book if they wanted. As Isabelle was making her way to the bookshelf, intent to continue her fun game from the morning of inventing stories, something pulled her back. No, it was not her bladder, though she did need to go having finished another bottle of water. Instead, it was something else. Something chewing at her. Something she was supposed to do.. "My journal!" Isabelle exclaimed. It stunned the sweet girl that she had almost forgotten about it again, getting lost away in the day's activities. Isabelle turned around and darted toward her cubby, where she found her backpack. Isabelle opened it up, and retrieved her investigative journal from where she had packed it that morning, carrying it over to an empty reading nook. Isabelle had just sat down when Miss Deena had made her way over. "Isabelle, do you want to try and go potty?" Isabelle groaned. She hadn't even been able to open her book to develop her theories, and already Miss Deena was interrupting her. "Miss Deenaaaaaa I don't wanna. I wanna colooorrrrrr." Isabelle responded. It was true - it was her intention that morning to focus on one aspect of her new theory - finding a rogue mage, or witch, to help her cast the spell that would ultimately turn her back. Miss Deena could see Isabelle's body language change, the happy girl now sulking. But Miss Deena could also see Isabelle's feet bouncing underneath her. Miss Deena had been at this for too long - she wasn't going to give in to the toddler. "Come on Isabelle," Miss Deena said as she picked the sweet innocent girl up. Miss Deena wasn't interested in dragging Isabelle across ther room, only to get to the potty too late. "I know a potty dance when I see when. Let's go quick, and maybe you'll get back in time to color." Isabelle didn't. It wasn't for lack of trying. Isabelle was peed the second Miss Deena had placed her down on the toilet - "See, you barely made it sweetie! You need to pay more attention to when you need to go tinkles!" Isabelle ignored the remark, pulling her pullup back on without so much as bothering to wipe, and eluding Miss Deena's arms before dashing to the sink to wash her hands - "Isabelle - you forgot to wipe sweetie...ugh.." Deena sighed. 'At least her pullup is still on, but this girl is a LONG ways from big girl panties.' But despite all of her efforts, as Isabelle was turning her journal to the next empty page, Kelly rang the little farm bell indicating it was time to rotate to another activity. Isabelle couldn't help but groan loudly - she had missed her chance it seemed, now for the second day in a row. 'But what can I do about it?' Isabelle wondered, as she reluctantly swept her investigative journal off of the desk, and took it with her. 'Miss Kelly rang the bell,' and made her way to her next activity. Fortunately, Isabelle's sour mood quickly changed as she found herself playing dance freeze next with Miss Deena and one other group. Isabelle laughed and tumbled around as she did her best to stay frozen in place as the music stopped and started. With just one activity, her missed investigation for the day was forgotten. Isabelle was relieved as she heard her mom's voice behind her. Isabelle ran over to her mom, jumping up into her arms. "MOMMY!" It was the best part of her day, being with her mom, no matter how much fun she had at preschool. "Hi Baby! Did you have fun today?" Isabelle nodded, as Miss Deena came over to give Jane the report for the day. "Hi Jane," Miss Deena started, as she patted Isabelle on the head. "We did just okay today. Miss Kelly had to remind Isabelle to poop this morning, since she looked like she didn't notice she had to go,' Miss Deena started. "But she made it, even if Miss Kelly needed to wipe for her. We had a couple of wet accidents in the morning and afternoon, and someone was very soggy after her nap. But Miss Deena took you to the potty in the afternoon, and it was a good thing I did - you almost peed before you sat down!" Miss Deena recited playfully, referring to herself in the third person. "So just okay," Deena repeated, before addressing Jane more directly. "She does seem to be struggling to recognize when she needs to go. She may need to start wearing diapers for her nap too - Kelly mentioned that the pullup she had on was practically leaking. Though I don't know if it makes sense to keep her in a diaper just for a nap. Either way, we'll just keep encouraging her this week and see how it goes." Jane nodded. 'There was no reason to deviate from the plan,' Jane thought. "Go and get Becky baby, we're going to be late. You start ballet this afternoon." Isabelle's eyes went wide, and a smile ran across her face, at the mere mention of ballet class. 'Oh. My. God. YES!!' Isabelle was screaming inside. She had no idea what ballet class would be like, but whatever it would be, it would be great. "Okay mommy. I'll go get her right now," Isabelle called back, nearly running into a wall as she wasn't looking where she was going." "OH God!" Jane nearly screamed, watching Isabelle just nearly crash, before laughing nervously and turning to Miss Deena. "This girl is going to be the end of me!" ********* Isabelle was practically skipping as her mom helped Becky out of the car, and on to the ground next to Isabelle. Jane made her way to the trunk, before retrieving two ballet bags - one for each Isabelle and Becky - before taking each of the girls' hands, and walking them toward the front door of the building they had parked in the lot for. "Now I want you two to be on your best behavior, okay? This is a big girl ballet class, and you are to listen to the ballet teacher!" Isabelle nodded. "I will mommy. I promise. I promise promise promise promise!" Isabelle couldn't contain her excitement, it was all just too much. Jane smiled. She was happy that Isabelle was excited. Miss Deena had suggested a dance class for Isabelle, as she was quite elegant in her footwork, even at a young age in the preschool. Jane had always considered it an option as well. Even for her age, Isabelle seemed to have a good grasp of rhythm and music. She would twirl and dance around their living room at home with ease and grace. She was a natural. 'Where she got that from, lord only knows," Jane thought, being so uncoordinated herself. It had actually been Lola that had shared the details of this class with her when they had gone out for one of their many lunches together a few weeks back. Jane had then told Jess, who agreed they should sign their girls up together. "She told me that one of her friends works as a teacher there, and that she's very nice," Jane had told Jess. "She is an extraordinary ballerina herself - top of her class at Higgins, so I think we can rely on her advice." Jane was hoping Lola had relayed accurate information. Jane made her way in with the two girls, pulling them up to the front desk to check-in. They were early, but that was just how Jane wanted it. Jane knew she not only had two girls to get dressed and ready, but she also wanted to say hello to Lola's friend before the class had started. Isabelle's eyes wandered with amazement and disbelief From the moment Isabelle stepped inside the studio with her mom and Becky, it was as if the air around her started to shimmer and sparkle. The walls were adorned with posters of ballet performances, showcasing graceful dancers in breathtaking poses. The faint sound of music played softly in the background, adding to the enchanting atmosphere that captured Isabelle's every attention, as her mom wrapped up signing the two girls in. "Yes, for the 4:30 class. That's right. Where can I get them changed?" Jane said, though Isabelle was barely listening. Isabelle stood at the entrance, taking in the sights and sounds. Further into the studio, Isabelle spotted wooden ballet barres lining the walls, waiting patiently for her little hands to find their grip on them. Mirrors covered the studio's walls, reflecting the room in a thousand different angles, as if inviting Isabelle to step into a world of a million dance steps, her every move captured for miles at end. Jane took Isabelle and Becky's hands, leading them further into the ballet studio. As they did, Isabelle noticed a group of young dancers - older than her, but not quite teenagers - wearing their leotards and ballet shoes, their hair neatly pinned up in buns. She watched in awe as they practiced their pliés and tendus, their movements flowing with grace and precision. Isabelle's eyes sparkled with excitement, Isabelle couldn't help but wiggle her toes, imagining herself wearing a leotard and ballet shoes for her own class. Isabelle wanted to look like the other dancers in their elegant routines. She turned to Jane, her face beaming with anticipation. "Mommy, I want to go dance now!" Jane smiled warmly and knelt down to Isabelle's level. "Of course, my dear," she replied. "Let's get you and Becky dressed first." Jane guided the girls to a corner of the room, where Jane opened each of the two ballet bags. "I'll have to tell Jess to get you changed at Miss Deena's on Thursday. They don't have a dedicated space for it here sweetie," Jane explained, as she pulled out two sets of delightful and colorful leotards, tutus, and ballet slippers from the bags. "Now let's pick out the perfect outfits for our little dancers," Jane said, a glimmer of excitement in her eyes. Isabelle and Becky eagerly scanned what Jane had pulled out, their small fingers tracing the fabrics as they made their choices. Isabelle pick up the sky-blue leotard adorned with sparkling silver stars her mom had packed for her. Isabelle couldn't help but imagine herself soaring through the air like a graceful swan. Becky, on the other hand, had a vibrant pink leotard that made her feel like a blooming flower, ready to pirouette and twirl with joy. "Before we get dressed, does anyone need to use the potty?" Jane asked. Each of Isabelle and Becky shook their heads no. "Are we sure girls? There will be no taking a potty break during class?" the girls confirmed their certainty. Jane considered forcing Isabelle to go, but if Isabelle couldn't be mature enough to tell her, then maybe she just wasn't ready. 'I want to trust her,' Jane told herself. 'Maybe she really doesn't need to go.' Jane gently helped the girls slip into their outfits, fastening the buttons and ties with care. It took some attention to ensure that Becky's tights pulled up and over her diaper, which was extremely prominent in nothing more than the leotard, tights, and tutu. For her part, getting the tights over Isabelle's pullup was a little easier, but a bulge was very much still present. Jane couldn't help but notice that the front of Isbaelle's pullup was a little damp as Jane pulled her daughter's tights up. "probably just a few drips," Jane thought. As the girls stood up, Jane helped each of them into their ballet slippers; first Becky, and then Isabelle. Isabelle's shoes were decorated with little ribbons that went up her ankles, more typical of pointe shoes. But Isabelle was far too little for pointe shoes, and the ribbons on her slippers were merely decorative. As Jane tied the last ribbon around Isabelle's ankle, Isabelle was overcome with a sense of pride, of joy, and of overwhelming confidence. Isabelle felt great all dressed up in her ballet clothes. But most of all, she felt at home in her slippers. It was as if all of the world's problems disappeared. There was no need to worry about investigations. No need to worry about the stress and challenges of the day. It no longer mattered that Isabelle struggled with her numbers or with building blocks. It was not important that Isabelle couldn't read. And most of all it was irrelevant that Isabelle was starring at herself in the mirror, smile from ear to ear, wetting her pullup. In fact, Isabelle didn't even know. She was too busy being happy, being home, being with her slippers once more. "Now you girls are ready for class," Jane said, as she finished pinning Becky's hair back. "I think I see your teacher. I am going to say hi, and then take a seat on the side. Your mommy will be here to watch you too Becky, she's on her way." Isabelle nodded and returned to examining herself in the mirror. She was pleased with the leotard her mom had selected for her. 'If I want to jump as high as the stars, I might as well wear them on my tummy to help lift me!" Isabelle and Becky laughed and played as a few other toddlers made their way into the class. Jane meanwhile had approached the ballet teachers, to introduce herself. "Hi, you must be Emily. I am Isabelle's mom," Jane started. "We're so excited to be in the class, thank you for taking the late signups." "Oh its not a problem, we're excited to have your daughter. We love having new dancers in class, and I see she is here with a friend too" Emily responded. "And you should know, your daughter comes highly recommended," Emily explained in a joking manner. Nevertheless, the comment caught Jane off guard. "I don't understand, who recommended her?' Jane asked, through a nervous laugh. Emily laughed in return. "Oh don't be nervous. My assistant mentioned that her friend knew Isabelle or something of that nature. Here, let me introduce you to her." As Jane connected the dots - "Of course, yes. Lola mentioned her friend was a teacher here, but I didn't realize she would be teaching Isabelle's class with you" - Emily waved over a teenage girl that had been speaking to another parent. Jane watched as the tall, very fit ballerina turned around. The girl's shimmering copper hair, tied neatly in a bun was mesmerizing. But as the girl turned to face Jane, Jane was shocked at how absolutely stunning the girl was. "Where do they find these girls, and how do these girls find each other all the time?" Jane asked herself, thinking of Dani and Lola now both. 'I don't think we looked this good as teenagers,' Jane began asking herself. The red-headed girl made her way toward Jane. The girl's body was a work of art - she was strong and delicate at the same time. She looked the part of a true athlete. The girl's facial features were soft; her skin was looked smooth and delicate, and her green eyes were striking. Jane was not that experienced with competitive dancers, but there were striking differences between Lola and Dani that stood out to her. Whereas Lola packed a lot more muscular on her legs - and generally had a curvier body than this girl - this dancer seemed the more delicate type, her movements graceful and fluid even as she crossed the room to greet Jane. For whatever reason, Jane felt intimidated as the girl came right up to her. "Hi, it's so nice to meet you," the girl said in a bubbly and happy tone. Her voice immediately put Jane at ease, even as she moved toward Jane to give Jane a very surprising half-hug. "Lola has told me so much about you!" She started, before backing off and adding something Jane wasn't ready for. "And if you don't mind me saying, way to go bagging Mr. Hayes - he's a looker," the girl said with an embellished wink. Jane started turning red at this teenagers remark. 'Apparently Lola has been telling her friends about me.' Jane did her best to collect herself, but didn't manage much more than a "oh...uhh...yah thanks....Yes I am Jane." Jane felt completely disarmed by the girl. 'I just sounded like a blabbering idiot in front of this teenager.' "And that's your cutie over there, the blonde one?" The girl asked. Jane simply nodded. "Yes, that's my Isabelle. Or Belly. She likes Belly,' Jane added. 'Just stop talking Jane,' she told herself. "Well," the redhead continued, "I'll be sure to keep a special eye on her. Who knows? She could be Lolzers little sister one day!" The girl said gleefully, without a hint of discretion about her. "Oh, and I'm Dani by the way. It's so nice to meet you." And just like that, Dani skipped away to the group of little classmates, engaging with them and getting them organized "Sorry about her," Emily said, making her way after Dani toward the class. "She can be a lot. But I assure you, she's an excellent instructor." Jane smiled back, content to be out of the situation "Let's get started," Emily announced, joining Dani in the middle of the studio. Jane made her way to the side of the room, finding Jess and sitting in the empty seat next to her. "Did I miss anything?" Jess asked curiously. Jane took a breath. "You mean other than me sounding like an idiot in front of a teenager? Nope. Not a damn thing." Jess returned a curious look, before laughing at Jane and handing her a latte. Jane accepted it, as she fixated on one thing Dani had said -'she's right I guess, they could be like sisters one day.' ******* The class started with a gentle warm-up, as Dani led the toddlers in stretching their little bodies. "Let's all go ahead and reach for the sky, up up up!" Dani held the position, encouraging the students to do the same, as a few tumbled over. Isabelle reached as high as she could, even going on to her toes. "And now down to ground, down down down!" Dani sang. Isabelle had been awe-struck when Dani had approached her and Becky, introducing herself. Isabelle couldn't believe it - she had missed her friend so much. So when Dani reached out to shake Isabelle's hand, Isabelle practically swatted it away and jumped on Dani, hugging her tightly and fighting off a tear. Isabelle was under the impression she had been home in her slippers. But a home was just a series of empty rooms. Dani was home. Lola was home. Isabelle recalled her commitment she had made the weekend prior - she was never going to take time with her friends for granted again. "Oh well hello there Belly, so nice of you to give me a hug," Dani had responded. "You know, I actually heard from Lola that you give some pretty amazing hugs! Did you know that Lola and I are best friends?" Dani asked. "Of course I know!" Isabelle practically shouted. She wanted to shout that she was their best friend too, but the thought only came to Isabelle a little too late. "Well okay then," Dani responded, thrilled about the girl's enthusiasm. 'The hardest part of the class is always dealing with the stubborn kid. Thank god this one - especially this one - seems good.' Dani knew how important it was to Lola that Belly enjoyed the class, and made a mental note to be especially nice to her. "Are you excited to start your first ballet class Belly?" Dani asked the girl. Isabelle couldn't contain herself. Not only was she excited, but the fact that her class was going to be with Dani? "I CANT WAIT!" Isabelle had shouted, just as Emily made her way over to start the class. Isabelle continued through the warm-up routine with ease, each movement feeling new, but easy to master. It felt great to feel like she was succeeding at something for a change, Isabelle noted. Preschool had been a little tougher that day, even if it was still a lot of fun. But time and time again, Isabelle found she was only ever at peace dancing. After the warm-up, Emily and Dani started to introduce the toddlers to basic ballet positions. It had been Dani's idea to shift away from concrete numbers for the positions when teaching and instead to use simple and fun visual cues to help the toddlers understand how Emily and Dani wanted them to move. "Imagine you are a beautiful flower growing tall," Emily called out, as Dani went around the class helping the students get into first position. "Very good Isabelle, you're standing perfectly," Dani relayed as she passed by. Isabelle couldn't help but beam; her friend thought she was doing a good job!, Emily continued "Now like you're a bird spreading its wings," she called, as the students worked to transition into second position. Isabelle found the flow between first and second position very natural, even if a number of the other students were struggling with it. Emily was quick to spot Isabelle as standing out, as her eyes sparkled with excitement and energy. 'Even that Becky had been doing a pretty good job,' Emily thought to herself. 'Certainly better than some of the other students who were already showing a lack of discipline. But this class is also about fun," Emily would need to remind herself, as the toddlers eagerly tried to mimic the poses Dani and Emily would do, nearly all with their little diapers or pull-ups showing through their tights. The class continued with playful games and activities designed to enhance their balance and flexibility. Dani showed the dancers how to correctly hop over imaginary puddles, pretend to tiptoe like fairies, and leap with joy as if they were butterflies fluttering through the air. Dani showered all of the students with praise - but especially Isabelle. It was clear the girl had some natural talent. 'She could probably study at Higgins one day, if she wants,' Dani found herself thinking. Toward the end of class, Emily and Dani emphasized the importance of creativity and self-expression with dance. "Dancing, and especially ballet, is about showing us who you are," Emily explained. "Dance is a way to communicate, and share with others how you are feeling," Dani continued, "whether that be happy" - Dani said with a leap, "or Sad," Dani said, as she contorted her body to fall limp and toward the ground. "Or even.....SILLY" Dani called out, as she winked at Isabelle and did a silly series of bourrées. The whole class laughed, but Isabelle the loudest of all. "So, we are sending you home with a little homework," Emily continued. "On Thursday, at the end of class, we want you to show us who you are though ballet or dance. You can think of one dance move, or ten, whatever you want. And when you come back to class, everyone will get to show their classmates how they feel they can express themselves through dancing. Does that sound fun?" 'It really does sound fun,' Isabelle thought, as she chanted along with all the other dancers in agreement. "Well, that's class for today. I can't wait to see you all on Thursday," Dani called out. Isabelle was sad to hear class was already over, but couldn't contain herself. She had just had the best time, laughing and dancing with Dani once again. Isabelle didn't want to wait until Thursday to show Dani how dance - and how Dani - made her feel. And so Isabelle ran up to her and hugged her once more, this time refusing to let go. "Thank you Dani. That was the best." 'This is why I do this,' Dani reminded herself about her part time job. "Aw sweetie. You're welcome. You were very good," Dani said, hugging the Isabelle back, patting the toddler's very wet pullup. "With a little training, one day you might even be better than me. Or even better than Lola!" Dani exclaimed. "I can't wait to see you again on Thursday, but for now, I think your mommy is waiting for you. She looks like she's really proud of you too - why don't you go to her while I clean up?" Isabelle turned her head enough to see her mom beaming with pride, pride directed at her daughter. Isabelle didn't want to let go, but she knew it was time. It was enough to know that she would see Dani again on Thursday. 'In any event - I have some dance moves to think about to show how I feel," Isabelle remembered. 'This could take some thinking,' Isabelle thought, as she ran over to her mom, who picked her way up into the sky, like Isabelle was one of the stars on her chest.

I was a chronic nightly bedwetter growing up and wasn't reliably dry at night until my early 20s. I can honestly say my bedwetting never bothered me. I couldn't see what all the fuss was about. I slept in Terry nappies and plastic pants until I was about 8 or 9 years old. Then our distrctrict nurse insisted my Mother took me out of nappies as she was sure if I felt uncomfortable I would soon stop wetting in my sleep. Being in nappies at night was never going to get me dry. Well it didn't work. I just had to get used to a damp and smelly bed. Then they tried a bedwetting alarm. I just slept through it and wet the bed while everyone else was woken up. They soon gave up on that idea. Rewards and treats offered if so stayed dry. Followed by punishments for being wet. Then gradually my folks just gave up and accepted I wet the bed and probably always would. Then finally my Mother dragged me off to our doctor insisting something done about her teenage son that still wet the bed almost every night. I was refered to the fledgling NHS continence service who were great and issued me with a "Sandra" fitted waterproof cover for my bed and big blue disposable nappies and later some plastic pants. The nappies leaked but so didn't care. My folks no longer seemed to care that I still wet the bed and seemed happy something had been done. I put my own nappies on and dealt with the inevitable wet ones every morning from being about 15. I continued to wet the bed most nights until just before my 22nd birthday and then it tailed off very quickly and by my birthday I was dry at night. ALL the time I lived at home my bed always had a waterproof cover on it and there was always a bag of nappies by my bed.

Here is the first chapter of my brand new monster-based ABDL story - Parum Mortis! Hope you enjoy it! Set in the same universe as Infernum Infantem, a woman finds herself somewhere she wasn't expecting to be. I can't say any more than that without spoiling it, so I'll just say that if you enjoyed Infernum Infantem, you should enjoy this. Just a heads up, there's some slightly dark topics in the first chapter, after that it's a lot less morbid. But even then, it shouldn't be too bad. Expect lots of my usual humour, MDLG fun, and cute pet names, as well as a few twists and turns and reeeeeeeeally mean cliffhangers. So... my usual story. This isn't a sequel to Infernum. It's got a brand new main character, though you'll be seeing a lot of returning characters from my other book. It's more... one story in the series. Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Especially with this being a new book, I'd really love some opinions! And as usual, if you want two weeks early access to chapters of Parum Mortis, you can sub to my Patreon. You'll also get access to my discord server to discuss chapters there and stuff. And also to tease me apparently. Grr. Also, please link to my stories rather than posting them as files when sharing with others! Chapter 1: Mr Crumpet Parum Mortis – LittleFallenPrincess I sat there on the pavement, in complete shock, as my whole world came crumbling down around me. How was I supposed to react to this? What would happen now? Where would I go? What if I stayed? I twiddled my thumbs as the world came to a standstill around me. My heart felt like it was racing. My eyes darted everywhere, watching every bit of carnage that surrounded me. An eerie silence filled the air and I felt… alone. No one could hear me. No one was moving. Nothing. No one. It was as if… “Oh for fuck’s sake, seriously?” I heard behind me. Turning around, I didn’t know what was worse, the scene I had just turned away from… or the fact that my childhood teddy bear was now six feet tall, holding what looked like some kind of scythe, and was examining itself, swearing at no-one. Like… he looked just like my bear from when I was six. That was like… over twenty years ago. Because it had been twenty years since I lost him on a trip with my Dad. Now here he was… five feet taller than I remembered him, looking like he was in pristine condition, wielding a deadly weapon. “Seriously? You had no-one?” He asked me. “I… I’m sorry… who are you?” I replied. “No, this won’t do. I need a better image. Come here... I’ll have to do this the old fashioned way.” Mr Crumpet waddled over, scythe in hand, to where I was sitting. I wasn’t sure if I should run or what, but my body made the decision for me and I quickly found I was unable to move. Stopping just in front of me, he bent down and looked me in the eyes with his… glassy… beady… teddy bear eyes… which totally wasn’t creepy at all or anything… and put his scythe down on the ground. “I… what… What do you want?” I asked, fear in my voice. “I’m sorry, honey. This is my mistake. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” He said, taking his soft, plushy arms and putting them on either side of my head. “This won’t hurt. Just close your eyes.” For some reason, I felt like… I felt like I could trust whoever this person was. Or whatever he was. Because he can’t damn well be my childhood toy! So I closed my eyes and felt the soft, plush hands of his become less plush… more… human. Like I could feel the bones in his hands now. There wasn’t much muscle in his hands, but it was definitely human now. “That’s better. You’ve got a few rattling around up there, but I’m not sure which to use. They’re all similar in importance, so I’ll just take this one for now.” He said… sounding more feminine suddenly. More… familiar. “You can open your eyes now, honey.” I slowly opened my eyes, nervous as to what would be in front of me now… to be greeted by a face I had not seen for a long time. “G… Grandma?” I blurted out, covering my mouth with my hands in surprise. “Oh sweetie…” She said, taking my hands in hers and pulling them down, rubbing the backs of them gently like my Grandma used to do. Problem was… my Grandma died ten years ago. “It’s okay, honey. It’s all going to be okay. Just breathe.” “Why do you look like my Grandma?” I asked, pulling my hands away from her. “Sweetie… I…” “Stop! Tell me, right this instant!” I snapped at her. Gran never called me sweetie. She had her own little name for me. “Look around you. Who do you think I am?” I took another look around me. I knew what had happened. I had a pretty good feeling where I was. And I had a damn good feeling who this person was, pretending to be my Grandma. But I didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to look at the car with the front half wrapped around a lamppost. I didn’t want to look at the shattered glass that had littered the pavement. Nor did I want to look at the brown-haired figure with freckles on her youthful, round face… crumpled up a few feet from… no… please… no… “That’s you.” Grandma said, pointing at the crumpled mess on the grass. The crumpled mess that wasn’t moving. I went to stand up, before ‘Grandma’ grabbed my hand and pulled me back down to the pavement. “Trust me, you don’t want to look, sweetie.” “Can… Can you stop?” I sighed, deciding that maybe this person was right, maybe here was the best place for me right now. “Stop what?” “This whole ‘pretending to be my Grandma’ thing. Just reveal your true self.” “You couldn’t handle that. But okay, I’ll pick a form you’re not familiar with, if that would help?” “Please. I loved my Grandma, and this just makes me… uneasy.” I blinked and suddenly my Grandma was gone. Not replaced by a giant childhood toy again, but by a beautiful blonde woman… no, wait… man… no I was right the first time… was I? I… I wasn’t sure what they were, but they were beautiful. Looking somewhat masculine, but also feminine… but at the same time… neither. This being incorporated everything into one person. “Wow…” Was all that I could utter, still staring at them in awe. “That better? Haven’t used this form in a long time.” They said, examining the clothes they were wearing. “Are these decade-appropriate? I’m normally good with human fashion, but the sixties and seventies made a bit of a diversion, and now the eighties… wow… of course Cassie predicted this. Only she could have, I suppose.” They looked down almost in disgust at their outfit. I looked them up and down… and yeah, they were pretty on point with their choice of fashion. And considering who they were… I hadn’t even contemplated that they had experienced all those other decades… seen all those other fashion trends as they met each and every person… Wearing a blue denim jacket with the sleeves rolled up and matching denim jeans with the cuffs rolled up, along with a white t-shirt and white trainers… They looked just like any of my friends. “You look fine…” I commented. “You think? Thanks. Sorry, yeah usually I just wear whatever I wear when I…” “Steal the faces of our loved ones?” I interrupted. “I… I don’t steal. I borrow… aspects of them. Not my fault you ignore the differences and focus purely on the similarities. Typical humans. Look, I’m trying something new. Sorry if I don’t get it right the first time.” “Why though? What made you want to change?” I asked. “Why do you want to know? It’s not me who’s lying over there, lifeless.” “Humour me.” “Because… I… look, I had big jobs before. I remember the plague. I remember Rome burning. I remember every huge, historical event where my presence was needed. But the war…” “Ah…” Was all I could say. “That… that made me realise I needed a bit more… humanity. Haha… like I ever saw myself ever saying that! Anyway… figured the old robed me needed a retirement. So I take on the appearance of those you found most comforting. At least a general likeness.” “Oh, so like a celebrity impersonator?” “I… yes, I guess so? I would have said someone you saw on the street that looked like someone who you hadn’t seen in a while, but yeah that works too. It can’t be the exact same… stupid copyright laws…” They took a second to breathe before looking at me again. “Problem is… you’re torn. The person you normally find most comforting…” “Don’t.” I shut them up instantly. I didn’t want them saying it. “I…” “Don’t say anything. I understand.” “Okay… Well yeah, because of that I had to go with a second option. Which ended up being Mr Crumpet, your Grandma, or your father. And your father isn’t dead yet and would have freaked you out even more, so…” “And you went with the giant fucking teddy bear over my Grandma?” “Again, still relatively new to this. So apologies in advance.” “So… that’s me, huh?” I asked, nodding over to where I lay. “I’m afraid so, sorry hun.” “You’re awfully nice for a… what are you exactly?” “I… oof. Err… that’s a complicated question that people have been theorising for millenia. Let’s just say… guide? But thank you. How… how are you holding up?” “I mean I just found out it's all over, so… been better.” “We can sit here as long as you want.” They put their arm around my shoulder, trying to comfort me. “What if I choose to stay here forever?” “You don’t want that.” They looked at me, looking serious all of a sudden. “I don’t?” “Look, if you want to go haunt a house or a certain person, or you want to take over a creepy doll and terrorise people… be my guest. I can arrange that. Some people can’t move on, and whilst sad… I will allow a small number of people to stay. But not here. Not at the scene.” “Why not?” I asked. “Because if you do, you’ll lose what humanity you have left. Just… for now, take your time. Take it all in. Then I’ll take you where you’re supposed to be.” “And where is that?” “Well I suppose I can tell you now, as you’re heading there soon anyway, but you’re going to Heaven.” “I was… a good person?” “Yes, Susan. You were a good person.” They replied. “But I…” “One mistake doesn’t doom you to an eternity in Hell. And you don’t believe in reincarnation or anything, so Heaven it is for you, sweetie. I know you weren’t technically a believer, but you were raised in that faith and had a small bit of hope that that place existed, so that’s where you go.” “Still… I feel bad.” I replied. “How so?” “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault.” “I’m sure that’s not true.” They shrugged. “You’re all knowing, right?” “Not really, but I know a lot, yes.” “Then you know I’m right.” “I’m not saying…” “See, that’s basically confirming it. I fucked up. I…” The cold winter’s air made my skin feel tingly. “How can…” “The cold is setting in on you over there.” They answered. “Ah. I suppose that makes sense. Whatever little sense all this makes anyway. So… what happens now?” “I take you up.” “Right now?” I asked. “When you’re ready.” There was something on my mind. Figured this was the last chance I’d get to ask… so I took a deep breath, not that that even mattered right now, and asked… “Can…” “I swear, if you’re about to ask me what I think you’re going to ask me…” They rolled their eyes at me and sighed. “Please?” I begged. “Why you humans care so much about this, I will never understand. But sure. Only because you’re cute.” They tapped my forehead and everything went dark. ------------------------------------------------------------ “WAIT, WHAT?” I awoke, screaming and yelling. “I’m not going to let you sit around for a week and watch it all. I’ve got a timetable to keep. You’re lucky I’ve got a little bit of a break at this exact time, after moving a few things around, to let you play out this… whatever this is. The reason I can get around to so many people is the whole freezing time thing. So when we’re not freezing…” “So when you’re not freezing time, you’re not out there helping… ‘guide’… people?” I asked, feeling slightly guilty that I was holding them up for this silly request of mine. “Exactly.” “Thank you then.” They looked at me, bewildered, as if they had never been thanked before. “You… you’re welcome, sweetie. Now, you’ve got about ten minutes to watch. Then I need to send you on. I’ll have to catch up a bit on those I should be guiding. And no, people can’t see, hear or sense you. So don’t try to go talk to them, it’s a waste of time.” They explained. “Ten minutes. Got it.” I looked ahead, from the bench I was sitting at with this beautiful blonde figure, towards the thing I so desperately wanted to see. I don’t know why I did, call it morbid fascination. But I wanted to see how many… and more importantly, who… showed up. The cold winter morning caused the priest to wrap up in his thickest robe. The grey sky drained all the colour out of this morning… not that there was any colour at a funeral. Black clothes, some flowers… and a whole lot of crying. At least it would be, normally… I sighed. “I’m sorry.” They whispered to me. “I… was expecting more people. I was at the very least expecting…” “Your Dad turned up…” They said, trying to find the positive in this shitty situation. “And… that’s it. No friends. No other family. No…” That’s when Death turned to me and wrapped their arms around me, surprising me as they brought me in for a hug. “I’m sorry hun.” They whispered in my ear. “I… it’s okay… maybe I… maybe I wasn’t worth…” “No, shush. You are worth every second of your life. You are worth so much more than this. I’m sorry people didn’t take the time to come to your funeral, but I promise you, you won’t be forgotten.” I cried into Death’s black denim jacket, which was appropriately changed to match the black dress code of the funeral. I hadn’t bothered to look at what state I was in now I was a… what… a ghost? Trapped in between life and death? I wasn’t sure what I was right now… but whatever I was, I finally took a second, wiping away the tears, to look at what I was wearing. I was still wearing the same dress I wore that night, albeit scuffed, ripped and bloody… Which means ghosts wear whatever they died in… ‘Thank fuck I didn’t die at one of those nudist beaches…’ I joked to myself, trying to lift the mood. Because that’s totally going to work at my own funeral… “It’s okay, hun. You’re going to be okay. You’ll be going to a better place now. I remember sending your Grandma there.” “Really… You remember her?” I asked. “I remember every soul I send over. Every face. She was a special woman. I can see why you looked up to her.” “I missed her…” “That’s why we should get going…” Death said, pointing towards the empty graveyard, empty except for my Dad and the Priest at my graveside as the coffin was lowered into the hole in the ground. “So… that’s it? A few words by the priest, I’m lowered into the ground… and that’s it? Isn’t anyone else mourning me? What about…?” “I’m sure people are mourning you elsewhere. Not everyone can make it. Your friends are no doubt having to work. They’ll show up for the wake later.” Death replied. “Fine. Whatever. I’m done with this. Let’s just go.” I sighed in frustration. “You sure?” Death said, standing up and offering their hand out. “I’m sure.” I replied, grabbing their hand and accepting the help up onto my feet. “So what… like… beam me up?” “Something like that…” They said, smiling softly at me and gently brushing my cheek with their hand. The grey sky turned into a blinding light suddenly. This… this must be it. Well… it was a nice… nearly thirty years on this planet. Shame I had to go and do something so stupid to cut it short. Maybe I… The light stopped suddenly. “Huh?” I said, confused. Death started looking around, looking as confused as I was. When suddenly… a portal appeared. A glowy, blue portal… like you’d see in those sci-fi movies. “NO!” Death screamed, like a banshee. “What… what is going on?” “DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE! I WILL FUCKING FUCK YOU UP YOU FUCKING FUCK!” Suddenly Death didn’t sound so… dignified. They went to grab my arm, but as they got closer, I felt a pull, like a magnetic pull… towards the portal. The strength drawing me towards it was more than I could resist as my feet left the ground and I was launched straight towards it… my last memories being that of Death reaching out to grab me… …Before everything went dark. ========================================================= New story! I know it's only the first chapter but... whatcha think? 😊 There's a lot to unpack from the first chapter! 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 remaining chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of Parum Mortis 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!

This is a sequel to "Pranks & Punishments" which I have linked at the bottom of this description. I don't believe it is necessary to have read that to read this one but it may enhance your enjoyment since some characters that appear in this story were in the first one and it would provide some context. You can find Pranks & Punishments here: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/83594-pranks-punishments/ --- If you enjoy my stories and would like to help support me writing them then I kindly ask you to check out my Patreon. I post all my updates a week earlier for patrons and there are 47 stories EXCLUSIVELY on my Patreon page! All the money on my Patreon goes towards paying bills, buying food and generally keeping a roof over my head and a nappy under my butt. Thank you to everyone who has a look at my Patreon and a special BIG thank you to those who choose to support me. It means the world. You can find my Patreon here: https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- Anthony is miserable and he has every reason to feel that way. Following his twin children's poorly thought out prank he had found himself forced into a baby role by his wife. The twins have gone off to college but for Anthony the punishment continues. His wife, Jane, is tired of just looking after a baby and wants a real man much to Anthony's chagrin. --- The Cuckolding of Baby Anthony By Elfy Anthony sat in the playpen miserably. It was Sunday, he should’ve been sitting in his armchair and watching football. He should’ve been sipping on a beer having enjoyed a lovely Sunday dinner cooked for him by his loving wife. The only thing he should’ve had to worry about was returning to work on Monday morning. Even that wasn’t so bad, Anthony was a doctor at a local practice and enjoyed it. At least he had before everything changed. Now he was sat amongst baby toys in nothing but a diaper and a t-shirt. Everything had changed about six months previously. Anthony enjoyed an affluent lifestyle and what seemed like a perfect family. Then his twins pulled a prank on some kid they knew at school and everything had been flipped upside down. It was Jane, Anthony’s wife and the twins’ mother, who suggested putting them in diapers as a punishment. Anthony had agreed but wanted as little to do with it as possible. Anthony found the punishment weird but for the most part it didn’t affect him. That was until Jane learned that the twins had used Anthony’s access to medical records to find out about the pranked kids disability. It was obviously against the surgery’s guidelines and the law to leave these records unsecured at home. Before Anthony knew what was happening he found himself joining the twins in their baby treatment. It was humiliating, embarrassing, mortifying and every other word you could find in a thesaurus connected to shame. For the twins the punishment had ended. They had been suitably humbled before going off to college. Anthony expected his own punishment to end then as well but Jane apparently had other plans. Now here he was several months later still in diapers and still being treated like a baby. The problem he had was that Jane had developed a liking for this new dynamic. She felt she had always been used as a doormat by Anthony even though she earned all the money and did all the chores. Now she was getting her own back. Anthony’s diaper was wet but that wasn’t anything unusual. He was reluctantly playing with his toys, more accurately he was pushing a little fire truck backwards and forwards and trying to stop his bored brain from turning to mush. Jane was elsewhere in the house, probably upstairs getting ready to go out or something. It didn’t matter much to him, he knew he wasn’t going anywhere. As Anthony leaned forwards to grab another of his toy cars he felt an aching fullness in his bowels. It was all he could do to not subconsciously react to the feeling with an immediate push down from his tummy. He had been in diapers for months, he couldn’t even remember when he last used the toilet, and it had had an effect on him. Whilst not incontinent by any means he found it distressingly easy to use his diaper no matter where he was or what he was doing. He now had to actively work not to just let go as soon as he felt the need. Anthony was never going to be able to hold it for long though. There was little point anyway, no amount of begging or pleading would allow him to go to the bathroom. He had tried in the past but Jane never relented. Having to beg for the most basic of adult luxuries made him feel even more pathetic when he inevitably lost control. With a groan of resignation Anthony pushed himself up so that he was in a squatting position. Almost immediately his sphincters started to relax and he could feel the process of soiling himself starting. It wasn’t a feeling he was used to even after all this time. The soft poop logs started squeezing out of him. At a steady but constant rate the fecal matter started emptying into his diaper, the warm mush quickly filling the space between his butt cheeks and spreading out. Anthony shivered at the feeling. “Baby, I’m just go-… Oh.” Jane walked into the room from the hallway. Anthony moaned as he was interrupted in this most quiet moment. He couldn’t face his wife like this. He turned away from Jane and grabbed hold of the bars of the playpen. He grunted as he pushed and felt more of the poop entering his disposable. The diaper started to sag and he was sure the back was bulging out. A shiver went down his spine as his bladder released as well. He closed his eyes in shame over what he was doing. “Honestly, I’m running late.” Jane said. She sounded bored, “So if you could hurry up and finish…” “This is yo-…” Anthony was going to talk back to his wife but stopped himself. It wouldn’t have done him any good. As the diaper expanded it crinkled noisily. Anthony pushed down one more time and felt one final tiny little nugget finish the soiling. He took a long shuddering breath as he finally felt himself done. He slowly stood up and turned to face Jane. “Come on, I don’t have all evening.” Jane said as she opened the playpen’s gate. Anthony looked up from the floor to see that Jane was all dressed up. She was wearing a very nice long red dress, her make-up was immaculate and she had some expensive jewellery on. He sniffed back more shame and inadvertently got a whiff of his own smell. He suspected he knew what Jane was doing but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Jane led the way for Anthony up the stairs and into the nursery. It had at one point been the room converted into a nursery for the twins but now it was Anthony’s. Everything in there felt like it belonged to him and that was an embarrassing fact to admit to himself. The changing table on the far side of the room was where he headed. “Come on, let’s get this over with.” Jane said impatiently, “I have a date.” The words cut Anthony like a knife. He visibly winced and paused for a second before continuing his waddling journey on to the changing table. As he laid back and stared up at the ceiling he tried to will the tears that were threatening to overwhelm him away. Jane meanwhile was getting out a fresh diaper and changing supplies, this was a well-practiced routine. “Is… Is it with…” Anthony stuttered quietly. “The same guy as last time?” Jane finished her husband’s question for him, “Yes. We’ve been getting on very well.” Anthony found himself pouting. This was perhaps the worst part of his new status. The diapers and baby treatment were humiliating and awful enough on their own but the fact that Jane was actively dating someone else was even worse. Anthony wasn’t man enough for her and so she had gone out and found someone who was. It was the not knowing that pained Anthony as much as anything else. He didn’t know who this other man was, he didn’t know what they did on these dates, and he didn’t know if they had… sex. Even the thought was enough to make him feel pathetic. Here he was, supposedly a grown man and he was not only letting his wife demean and degrade him but she was actively going out and looking for someone better. Would he be cast away like trash if she found that man? Anthony had no idea and at this point knew better than to try and ask. “Hold still.” Jane warned Anthony, “If you get any of that mess on me and I have to change you’ll get a spanking so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week afterwards.” Anthony knew that this was no idle threat. He remained as still as possible as the front of his diaper was lowered. The smell immediately seemed to fill the room but it was one that both he and Jane were used to by now. He simply stared up at the ceiling and tried to forget that this was all happening. What he wouldn’t have given to go back to a world where he was just a normal man… It took several humiliating minutes for Jane to wipe Anthony clean. By the time the messy diaper was pulled from underneath him Anthony just wanted to be put into his crib so he could go to sleep and hope to dream of a better time. “Since it might be a while before I come home I think we should double up.” Jane said as she pulled a second thick diaper from underneath the changing table. Anthony let out a low moan. If one diaper was bad two diapers were even worse. With doubled up diapers Anthony would find that walking was a challenge. He would be down on his hands and knees crawling around with his giant rear end stuck up in the air. It also meant that Jane didn’t expect to be home any time soon and the implications of that wasn’t something Anthony wanted to think about. “Jane… Mommy… M-Maybe we should…” Anthony’s voice was small and pathetic. He wasn’t even sure what he was going to ask for. To stop the baby treatment? For Jane not to see other men? To go back to how things used to be? Maybe he was going to ask for all of those things, as futile as it was. “Hmm?” Jane grunted as she unfolded the two diapers and placed them in position, “What was that?” “Nothing.” Anthony sighed. He’d asked those questions a thousand times before and the answer was always the same. “Good boy.” Jane smiled and tapped the side of Anthony’s thigh, “Lift up.” Anthony did as he was told. His hips left the padded table and Jane slid the freshly prepared double diaper underneath him. When he lowered back down he could instantly feel the thick padding on the table top. It was like laying on a pillow, his waist was forced up higher than the rest of him. The first diaper was lifted up between Anthony’s legs and taped closed. Normally that would be the end of it but this time the second diaper came up over the top of the first one and was also tightly fastened. He tried to squeeze his legs together but the massive amount of absorbent material between his thighs prevented it, he couldn’t even touch his knees together. The humiliation wasn’t over though. Anthony slowly sat up as Jane walked across the bedroom to the closet. He looked down at his crotch and blushed when he saw just how much it was bulging out in every direction, he reached down and prodded the padding as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. “Here we go.” Jane said as she unhooked something from one of the hangers. Anthony slipped off the edge of the table and wobbled slightly as he looked over to his wife. She was holding a dark red onesie, it was one of her favourites. Anthony would be lying if he said it wasn’t one of his favourites as well. The white cuffs around the edges made it fit very well and the material was extremely comfortable. Anthony dutifully lifted his hands as Jane pulled it down over his arms and head. “Hmm, I didn’t count on these extra thick diapers.” Jane said as she crouched down in front of Anthony and pulled the flaps of the stretchy material. Anthony felt the onesie getting pulled down and was embarrassed that the clothing designed to go over people’s diapers was struggling with his extra thick padding. Eventually and after pulling on the front of the back of the onesie enough to nearly rip it the poppers were pushed together. Anthony was then turned by the shoulders towards the crib. “But it’s so early…” Anthony whined as he looked out the window at the light that was still streaming in. “Well I’m not going to be around to put you to bed later.” Jane said as she patted Anthony’s thickly padded rear end. Anthony was scowling as he climbed into the crib and sat against the far side bars. He watched unhappily as Jane lifted the side and locked it into place. She smiled as she looked through to Anthony. “I’ll see you soon, baby.” Jane said as she placed a large bottle of juice next to the mattress, “Don’t wait up!” As Jane left the nursery Anthony could only watch on helplessly. He felt like a prisoner at the best of times but when left in his crib like this it felt more like he was in solitary confinement. He listened and heard Jane’s phone ring downstairs, she answered and after a small pause was laughing. He couldn’t help wondering if she and whoever she was dating was sharing a good laugh about him. After a few more minutes a car honked their horn outside followed by the front door opening and closing. Anthony was alone in his baby bed with only some stuffies for company. --- If you want to read what happens next RIGHT NOW you can find the next part of the story here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/cuckolding-of-85806377

After dinner is finished. I walk into the bathroom where my wife has already drawn a warm bath for me. The first thing is to clean me up them she uses J&J baby shamppoo to wah my hair. after all cleaned up I walk over to my changing table in the bedroom. The first thing is to rub me all over with rubbing alcohol. Then after that my wife slips a diaper underneath me. For the past few weeks my wife has placed a baby powder bottle near a cool/cold area of the room to give the effect of coolness to my body. She then sprinkles it on me and closes my diaper and placed me into a onsie for the evening. A baby bottle and then paci are then given to me for the remainder of the evening

'Your call is important to us: Your wait time is 3 changes"

That's right big bro! It can be extremely fun.😁 My favorite girly diapers are diapers with flowers on them with a pinkish diaper design. And a pink diaper design but with stars on them instead. It makes me feel so little and babyish. I also like girly footie jammies and onesies and girly boyish clothes, like a pink shortall.😁😃♥️💖

My wife knew what my day had been like as I slumped into the passenger seat of her car. “Rough day at work?” She asked as the car pulled out of the parking lot and headed home. “You have no idea,” I replied. “It’s like no one believes that I can just, do my job competently. My car being stuck in the shop doesn't help either. Thanks for picking me up honey.” “Well, you can’t blame them,” My wife said. “After all, you are still Mommy’s little diaper wearing sissy. A little sissy diaper baby. Who’s Mommy’s little sissy diaper boy?” She said, her voice dropping into the teasing, mocking tone of baby talk. “Who’s Mommy’s little sissy diaper boy?” She asked again, looking over at me when I didn’t respond to her initial question. “I am,” I said, picking up at her words. “Yes you are. Yes you are. So smart, so smart. Such a smart little sissy diaper boy,” She continued on. “Do you need your diapers? I bet you need your diapers tonight, don’t you?” “Yes please, Mommy.” My wife smiled, and the rest of the drive continued on in an excited silence for the evening to come. Before we went home my Mommy/wife decided to stop at the grocery store. “I think I will make a nice yummy steak for myself tonight,” She said as we grabbed a cart and entered the store. “And we will make a nice, yummy smoothie for my little sissy. A steak is far too hard for a little sissy to eat. You need something soft and nutritious.” I tried following my wife around the store as she shopped, but, worn out from work, I began lagging behind her. About halfway through shopping, Mommy turned and sternly said to me, “That’s it little sissy, hands on the cart. If you aren’t going to be a good boy and stay with Mommy I am going to make you keep your hands on the cart so you don’t wander off and get taken home by some mean domme looking for a new sissy to punish.” Embarrassment from her words and having to keep my hands on the cart like a child was the final shot I needed to shake off my exhaustion from the office and be ready for the night ahead. When we got home, Mommy ordered me to bring my high chair up from the basement, water the garden, and bring in the mail before joining her in the bedroom. “In that order, sissy.” She made sure to emphasize. I understood the reason for the ordering when I entered our bedroom. My time outside had given her time to get ready for the evening, without me hearing her shuffle through the deep recesses of our closet for the items she had laid out on the bed. "Arms up baby," Mommy ordered as she came over to me. She had slipped into a retro 50's style dress while I was watering the vegetables and flowers. It was her go-to outfit whenever she was feeling dominant. It only took her a moment to unbutton my shirt and pull it off my body. Another minute and my socks and shoes were tossed out of the way. A third and I was stepping out of my slacks and underwear, pooled around my ankles. I was then gently laid on top of the old, pink blanket we had found at a garage sale that served as my changing mat. I watched as Mommy slid a latex glove over her hand and poured some lubricant on it. A gasp slipped past my lips as one of her fingers penetrated me. She slid it slowly in and out. In and out, gently preparing me for what was coming next. Just like she had with her finger, Mommy lubed the anal beads, then gently slid them into my asshole. Each bead felt more pleasurable than the last as it popped inside me, and I moaned as Mommy forced the last few beads in my rectum. The sensation as they entered, and the pressure against my prostate, felt wonderful. Then the sensual pleasure of the beads was replaced by a shiver as Mommy used a baby wipe to wipe off the excess lube and my sweat from the day. She grabbed the diaper set aside. The pattern had princesses wearing pink dresses and standing next to ponies. She unfolded the diaper, then roughly folded and mashed it, breaking up the tight packing of the absorbent material. This made the diaper thicker and more poofy. Satisfied with her work, she gave me a single word command, "Up." Dutifully, I raised my legs and grabbed my ankles, holding my feet aloft. Mommy then slid the diaper underneath me, and manhandled me around until I was positionedhow she wanted me. I let out another contented sigh and babyish coos as I smelled the scent of baby powder and felt it sprinkled across my skin. These soft coos quickly turned to lustful moans. Mommy always made sure the baby powder was thoroughly rubbed into my dick and balls. She finally decided she had done an adequate job of protecting my gentle sissy skin when my body was bucking in time with her ministrations. The front of the diaper was then folded up and the tapes were tightly pulled so the diaper was snug across my body, providing the sensuous comfort and cradling that every adult baby and diaper lover craves. Mommy then helped me to sit up on the edge of the bed. She slid a pair of white, frilly ankle socks onto my feet. She then pulled my pink, "Crybaby" onesie down over my head. After helping me stand up, l felt Mommy closing the crotch snaps. She then made me hold my hands out. Leather bondage mittens soon encased my hands. The snap of two heart shaped padlocks meant that I would wear all of my babyish attire until mommy decided it was time to take it off. One of my giant pink pacifiers was slipped between my lips and clipped the strap to the bib of the onesie. Lastly one of my frilly bonnets was set on top of my head and tied tightly underneath my chin. Mommy then had me lead her back downstairs to the kitchen. She always enjoyed watching me toddle down the stairs in my thick diapers, and me leading meant she didn't have to miss a moment. Once we reached the kitchen, Mommy helped me step up into my highchair, locking the tray and by extension me in place. The living room is visible from the kitchen, and Bluey was soon playing on the tv. I was also given a doll to help occupy me while I waited for dinner. I did my best to be a good sissy and wait patiently for dinner. I had already watched the episodes of Bluey Mommy had set the TV to several times though, and there wasn't much I could think to do with just a single doll. So, it only took about five minutes for the soft cradling sensation of the diaper against my dick and balls combined with the anal beads rubbing on my prostate to make me a horny little sissy in my highchair. After a couple minutes of my highchair squeaking from me trying to somehow get off by humping in place, I attracted Mommy’s attention. Mercifully or cruelly, depending on your point of view, she gave me a magic wand. It felt good, but confined as I was, I couldn't get the vibrator into the right position to do more than edge myself. Trying to cum before Mommy decided it would be more fun for her to take the vibrator away, I wet my diaper hoping the thicker padding would let me apply more pressure. It didn't thanks to the tray and my own thick thighs. Mommy giggled at me as she brought dinner over. Her steak smelled delicious and was making me salivate. I'd also only succeeded in making myself even hornier with the vibrator. Needless to say, I was frustrated at this point and didn't appreciate her laughter as she took the magic wand away from me. I glared at her, but with my pacifier and bonnet my glare only made her laugh at me more. "Oh, I see someone is a fussy baby diaper boy," Mommy said, setting her steak down on the table. It looked as delicious as it smelled, and a small amount of drool slipped past my pacifier and down my face as I looked at it. Mommy left and returned with my dinner and a bright white bib. Mommy tied the bib tightly around my neck and adjusted the tray so my arms could not get out from underneath it, while I examined my dinner. Mommy's baby food dinners for me were best summarized as eccentric. The peaches and cream had been palatable. The baby food jars of yams and green peas mixed together made me retch. I wasn't quite sure where this fit on that scale. My meal was three semi mushy purple balls in one of my baby bowls, with a baby bottle filled with water to wash whatever it was down. Mommy pulled her chair out and sat down. She took a few bites of her steak, and commented on how tender and juicy it was. She then pulled the dummy out of my mouth, scooped a large helping of the concoction up, and stuffed it into my mouth. I swallowed the spoonful and opened my mouth for more. My dinner, as it turned out, was vanilla ice cream blended with several different berries, and it was delicious. Mommy gave me a second spoonful before putting the nipple of the baby bottle to my mouth to suckle at for a bit. We kept this pattern until both of our dinners were finished, her taking a few bites of her steak and a couple sips of wine, before feeding me a couple bites and letting me suckle from my bottle. When we were both finished she wiped my face off with the bib before untying it from my neck and sticking my soother back into my mouth. I was left to sit, suck, and wonder what was next while she tidied up the remains of dinner. When Mommy returned she reached down under the tray and poked at my diaper, feeling it fuller than before she said, "Awe, such a good baby sissy diaper boy, using your diapers just like you should. Now, our you ready for a nap?" I glowered around my pacifier and underneath my bonnet at that. I didn't want to be put to bed so early in the evening, and without cumming. My expression made mommy say though, "oh, that definitely proves that someone needs a nap. Now come on." She undid the tray, and helped me down from the highchair. She led me upstairs to our bedroom and laid me down on top of the bedspread. Mommy then took one of the lengths of ribbon we kept in the nightstand and tied my mittened hands to the headboard with it. She told me to be a good baby and stay put while she was gone for a second. I looked after her confused about what we were doing. I understood what she meant by nap though as she returned to the bedroom, magic wand in hand. Mommy unzipped her dress and pulled it off, revealing the lingerie she had been wearing underneath. She then plugged the magic wand into the outlet and climbed on top of me. She rested her crotch above mine, pressing her lacy panties against the padding of my diaper. She then stuck the magic wand between us, and switched it on. She ground her hips into the magic wand and my diaper, humping and thrusting as she pleasured us. Well, more accurately, she pleasured herself on top of me. The vibrations of the magic wand weer still intense enough to stimulate my dick though, and each time she humped the vibrator on top of me she drove the anal beads against my prostate. Soon we were both on the verge of orgasm. I came as soon as I felt Mommy’s legs squeezing me. She always tightened her legs as she was coming, and that drove the vibrator straight against my cock, the vibrations and pressure sending me over the edge as I released inside of my diaper. She came soon after, shutting the vibrator off and crumbling into a ball next to me. We laid like that for a while, basking in our post-orgasmic glow. Mommy recovered before me. She got up, gave me a kiss and headed into our bathroom. I heard water running, but I was still too out of it from my orgasm to register what exactly she was doing. Five minutes later though she returned, and freed me from both the headboard and the bondage mittens. She gently undressed me, untying my bonnet, peeling the ankle socks off of my feet, unsnapping the crotch snaps and pulling my onesie off over my head. Last she undid the tapes of my diaper and unceremoniously tossed it in the trash. Mommy then took me to the bathroom, where she had prepared a bubble bath for me. I eased into the tub. The bubbles and warmth of the water were absolutely wonderful. Mommy left me to push the mounds of bubbles around for a few minutes by myself. She returned with a baby bottle of cool water. For a while we sat and enjoyed the presence of each other, me sucking on my bottle and playing with the bubbles while she sat on the toilet reading a book on her phone. When I finished my bottle she put her phone down and began bathing me. I relaxed even further and began to feel sleepy under her ministrations. She tenderly massaged my scalp as she shampooed my hair, and rubbed away aches and pains as she lathered my body with a soapy washcloth. I was fighting off yawns while she rinsed me off, and it took all of the willpower I could still muster to keep my eyes open as she wrapped a warm fluffy towel around me to dry me off. When finished, Mommy led me back to our bed where a fresh diaper awaited me. I was powdered again and this diaper was taped tight against me. This time a pair of plastic panties were slid over the diaper. Mommy decided to put me in a new outfit for bed, a frilly purple diaper cover and pink ballerina shirt. The oversized binky was returned to my lips, and Mommy slipped a pair of headphones into my ears playing an audiobook for me while I fell asleep. She then kissed me on the top of my head and headed back to the bathroom to take a shower herself. I was already softly snoring before She reached the bathroom door, reliving this wonderful evening in my dreams. The End.

I have an unexpected opportunity to connect to internet this morning, so you all benefit with the next chapter! Chapter 35: Scenes I FOUND MYSELF walking inside Destiny Hall, where my mom had sat thirty years ago. The lecture hall and building had been relatively new then, so age had definitely taken a toll on the hallways. Inside, it seemed like they must have undergone a recent renovation, though, as paint and furnishings seemed as updated as the classrooms I’d been in. I’d run into Ava and Amy on my way inside, and we sat about four rows back in the auditorium. The room filled with about a hundred students as people took their seats. “What is this class?” Ava whispered to me. “Propaganda 102,” I replied. “My mom always described this class as being one session after another about so-called Little Rights, but really being about you’re better off turning yourself over to Student Services to be adopted.” Ava made a face at me, “Adopted? Really?” I nodded, “We’ve already had a few students go the hard way. Noah definitely was sent to probably an orphanage or etiquette center,” I whispered to her. “What’s an etiquette center?” she whispered back. “We can’t talk that openly here,” I told her, “But think of a brainwashing clinic plus surgeries to make a perfect forever baby.” She looked horrified, “Why did you come here if you knew all of this? I never believed any of the rumors!” “Well, I was Betweener size back home!” I reminded her. “The tech was worth it, though?” “I’d go home right now if we could,” Ava said nervously. “Don’t even suggest it,” I told her just as Dean Northrup made her way up to the front of a podium, and an enormous holo-screen behind her flared to life. ‘Welcome Back, Griffin Chicks!’ it read. “Not condescending at all…?” I heard Ava mutter. I elbowed her gently and said, “Shh!” “Good afternoon, boys and girls; I hope you had a great Winter Break from studying!” Dean Northrup said. “This is our second semester of Little Seminar for you freshmen, but we have a brand-new group of Chicks here from several other dimensions! Would those exchange students please stand up, and everyone else, please give them a warm Griffin welcome!” I begrudgingly stood with Ava and Amy for a second before sitting down, growing taller with the booster on the chair than I had been standing! “We know it’s a big transition for most of you to our dimension with the larger size of everything than you’re used to, but we’ll do everything we can to help you settle in!” The screen changed to ‘Updates’ and featured a picture of a pile of Pull-Ups and some diapers. “Today’s seminar will be shorter than normal, as today we just want to make sure you are aware of some updates and remind you of some rules since you returned. First, we’ve received many complaints from your nest mothers that we haven’t been stocking enough options for our smallest Chicks. With that being said, we have struck a deal with a couple companies to start stocking Pull-Ups in Little sizes that should fit down to those of you who are only forty-four pounds. We also have a dozen more prints and brands of diapers for those of you to give you a variety of more fun options. Your nest mothers will have a brochure for you to look at tonight, and you all may select up to four more products per person to have stocked in your rooms.” ‘How exciting! More options for diapers!!!’ I thought sarcastically. A glance at Amy, though, showed she was actually kind of relieved. Only then, as she squirmed and her skirt flashed up, I remembered she was stuck in diapers with no other options. “Next, we have completed a renovation in three buildings, Marconi, Euler, and Kilby, with new changing facilities if you need a diaper change. We’ve partnered with our AI department to create a new HoloCare Center in each! Each center is capable of caring for eight Littles needs simultaneously in each of those rooms. Changes are generally possible in two minutes or less! We hope to reduce the need for you to travel back to your nests as often. Of course, the care center will return any information for your potty charts to your nest mother.” ‘Of course!’ I thought. ‘At least they probably won’t abuse you,’ I thought. ‘Kelly changing a diaper certainly would not be a friendly person,’ I shuddered at that thought! “There are eight different caregivers in those centers with their own personalities; we hope you’ll find yourself comfortable there when you visit!” Warning signals were going on in my head then, but of course, I kept quiet. Some squeaking of the folding lecture hall chairs signaled the discomfort of the other Littles. “Two more things, and then we’ll wrap up for today. First, the university is looking at reducing the number of accidents in Pull-Ups before we mandate better protection. A survey of professors and nest mothers indicates a lot of leaky garments last semester that resulted in fabric cleaning needed on chairs in classrooms and other areas. The student government will vote on the proposal during the elections next week. The move would change the current three wet accidents per day, or fifteen per week, to two wet accidents per day, or eight per week. Poopy accidents would change from two per day, or five per week, to two per week.” There was a good amount of grumbling at this change. “Now, I know no one likes having fewer chances, boys and girls, but we have to look after the health and safety of the campus! We do want to make it fair, though, so it’ll be a proposition on the ballot next week. Make sure you vote how you feel there, and the rest of the student body will as well!” She paused for a second, “Remember, normally, after eight weeks, you are allowed to try again to regain your Pull-Ups or big kid pants, but we do insist on a cooling-off period for everyone once you are asked to wear more absorbent garments.” I kept my mouth shut, and almost everyone else did too. “Eight weeks?!?” Someone shouted, “I have to stay in diapers for eight weeks because I’m getting poisoned by someone?!?” I turned, and I could see a boy from our exchange group on the other side of the lecture hall. Luca wasn’t someone I had interacted with much in the last week, but the puffiness of his pants showed he was back in diapers. “It’s okay, little one; you’ll get another chance.” “This is fucking bullshit!” he said. I watched simultaneously as Dean Northrup’s eyes narrowed, and she seemed gleeful. “Would you please come up here, Little boy?” “No!” he said. I sighed, counting the demerits in my head already. “I won’t ask again,” she said coolly. “You have until the count of three to be moving up here! One…” I looked over at him and saw he was planted. “Two…” He started moving; I hoped he was showing some sense. Then he turned on the spot in the aisle and walked up the aisle away from her. “Three!” She sighed, “Bring him up here, please,” she said. Only then did I realize at least a few of the nest mothers were present. Madelyn roughly grabbed him and took him up to the front of the room with him kicking, screaming, and cussing the whole time. Despite the physical fight she was engaged in with the small boy, she was smiling sadistically the entire time. His struggling did no good; even with Luca being bigger than I was by more than a foot-and-a-half, he was like a preschooler fighting with a mother at best. She easily held him, and his kicks to her side and stomach did no damage. “Well, that escalated rather quickly,” Dean Northrup said as she approached him. I watched as she found a chair to the side and sat in it, motioning for Madelyn to hand him over. Northrup yanked his pants down as the giant woman pulled him over her knee. The rip of the diaper tapes seemed amplified, and I watched as even he struggled that she calmly handed it to Madelyn, who balled it up and looked on with glee. Seconds Dean Northrup’s hand began hitting Luca’s bare butt-cheeks, making everyone jump in their seats! Each smack was so loud I worried he wouldn’t have a rear left when she was done! BETH WAS GLAD to see Reila was doing okay and ran into Cassie as she left the dorm to head to the Matisse center for her next class. “How were your classes so far today?” She asked her. “Haven’t had one yet,” Cassie smiled at her. “All late classes today?” “Yeah, it kind of sucks that they go till nine tonight, but it still beats waking up for a morning class!” Beth nodded, “I bet that would be nice!” “You?” Beth shrugged, “This is the semester from hell, I’m afraid; my workload is nuts!” “I saw your schedule; I believe it!” “Yeah, I’m hoping this next class will be fun, at least!” “This is your film class?” Cassie asked. “Yeah, I knew a couple juniors who took it last year and said it was their favorite elective class. It’s a serious class for the film majors, but they open it up to non-majors to have more than enough people to do the projects.” “This is the one they actually film movies in, right?” “I don’t think they’re full-length, but yeah. What do you have now?” “Watercolor I,” she smiled. “I’m also getting one non-serious class for the semester.” “Should be fun,” Beth said with a smile. They had to pass the daycare on their way to class. She felt her blood grow cold as she noticed Dean Northrup walking beside one of the nest mothers carrying the sobbing form of a Little with the bottom half of their uniform missing. They still wore their uniform coat, but she knew what that walk meant. As they passed, she smelled that the diaper needed to be changed, too, even as the boy said, “Just let me go home! You can’t do this to me!!!!” Or at least that’s what Beth interpreted his sobbing snot filled speech. When they had gotten far enough past, she said, “Poor guy.” Cassie nodded, “Sounds like one of the Portal Littles. Glad it wasn’t Connor.” “Me too; hopefully, he’s smart enough not to push things that far!” Beth walked with Cassie into the building and found her way into the large projection hall used for the lectures and planning for this course. It featured stacked levels of seats and desk chairs behind tables to spread out notes on. She noticed a certain head of long blonde hair and smiled. “I didn’t realize this was the class you were talking about?” She said to Connor, who was just climbing on his booster seat. Connor turned towards her, and a frown became more of a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, “Hi Beth, I guess I never asked which film class you were taking!” “May I sit next to you?” She found herself asking. “Sure,” Connor said, moving his bag to the other side of him from her on the table. “What’s wrong?” She asked quietly. “What do you mean?” “I’ve only known you a few days, but it’s obvious something’s wrong?” Beth insisted. “Just got to watch another of our dimensional exchange group bite the dust,” Connor said with a shrug. “One, I know?” Beth asked, even though she really didn’t want to know. He shook his head, “No, I haven’t hung out with him at all. He was in one of the other nests because he was closer to six-feet tall.” She nodded, “So they are arranged by height?” “They said they’re not, but it would be an awful coincidence otherwise,” Connor told her. She nodded, “Yeah, it would be. So how was your morning class? Didn’t you have another film class?” He actually smiled then, “Yeah, screenwriting. We’re actually writing the scripts that will be the projects for this class.” “Oh? That’s cool!” Beth said genuinely. “What are you writing about?” I WAS ABOUT to fill Beth in on my idea when a professor stood at the front of the classroom, and the lights went out. A really cool Holo-Movie sequence suddenly filled the room with light, and the sound from the speakers literally shook my lungs with the bass. “Cool!” I couldn’t help but exclaim! I watched a sequence of images come together into an apparent studio graphic used by the university film program, and the lights returned to their normal setting. “Good afternoon! Welcome to Cinematic Narratives; I’m Professor Wyler! This is one of the first major courses for our Film students and a great introductory course for those of you who might be in other majors. Our philosophy here at Emerson is there is absolutely no way to teach you everything you need to know about filmmaking in a semester or even a four-year course of study. So, we’ve chosen to make Cinematic Narratives a crash course in film. This class will explore the latest industry cameras for holo-productions, directing, creating scenes, sound effects, and basic acting coaching.” I felt like that was too much for a single course already! “Now, the cool thing about our course is that we are not operating as a stand-alone course but as a collaboration with several other courses and studios through the university. This morning students in the Screenwriting class were given a project to write the scripts for their first projects to film. They have until Thursday to complete an outline and storyboarding and then another week to have a completed script for a forty-two-minute pilot TV episode or short film. That prevents you all from having to write your own scripts!” He paused and smiled; the beard on his jaw was white and highlighted his face. “Unless, of course, you’re taking both courses! I know we have nine of you who are doing so. Can I get you all to stand up, so everyone can see who they can use for resources?” I stood then and turned to look around. My blood turned cold when I realized Kelly was in the class too! She saw me notice her and winked at me. I turned forward, sat back down, and listened to the next part of his speech, talking about the other related courses. Apparently, the theatrical department had a makeup and costume studio set of classes that would be helping us with costumes and makeup for actors. When we completed our films, there was a film music composition class that would create musical soundtracks for the films. It was more like the real world than expected in a college setting! “So, you may be asking yourselves, what’s first?” He smiled, “Well, first up for you has got to be an introduction to the ideas behind framing a scene...” Fortunately, I had taken three semesters of photography and a semester of Intro to Cinematography back home, so I was pretty comfortable with the basics he taught. The main missing piece for me was how these Holo-Cameras worked and how you focused everything with lenses on focusing your eyes properly with the Holo-Lenses. He wasn’t kidding when he said it was a crash course because there were probably three semesters of photography shoved into one ninety-minute lecture. “Now, on Thursday, during the second half of our class, we will be focused on practical hands-on applications of the concepts I have just been teaching you. We’ll divide you up into your groups at that time as well. Eighty of you are in this course, and we’ll be creating four ‘studios’ for your projects. I know many of you will be asking to be with a friend or something, but keep in mind we have already picked these groups based on skills we know you have. Those groups will be posted along with your modules on the course site in about an hour. If you don’t have any other questions?” He paused, “Very good! Have a good evening!” “I have a feeling this is another heavy workload course…?” Beth sighed as we stood up, and she stretched. “This’ll be the fun one, though?” I said. “At least you’re not in the screenwriting class too!” She smiled grimly, “Yeah, I don’t envy you there. What are you up to now?” “Was planning to return to the dorm and get some dinner?” “Want to skip the dorm and have an early dinner with me? The dining hall will be opening about now.” I looked up at her, “Sure!” I paused, “Let me message Miss Mackenzie, though!” I received an okay message, and the two of us enjoyed having dinner with each other. I learned more about Beth and her siblings as we sat there. Soon we were joined by Cassie, Livy, and a new friend of hers, Reila. Reila wasn’t there long before she and Cassie headed off to late-night classes that Littles would never be allowed to register for! By the time I reached the dorm, I only had two hours remaining before lights out, so I focused on cramming for my morning classes and anything that wasn’t done. I also managed to get the final work done for my math class, and with just about fifteen minutes left, I scrambled to write my screenplay outline. I was only two scenes away from finishing the basics when Mackenzie said, “Okay, Kits, go use the potty, brush your teethers, then come see me for your nighttime diapees!” I wasn’t the only one who groaned then. Still, I saved my work, shut down the school computer I’d been using to create the outline on their software, and headed to the bathroom with a small caddy. I brushed my teeth first since all the stalls were taken, then rotated in to go to the bathroom. At the changing table, she said, “Oh my, Connor, you managed another day of perfect stars!” I blushed, “Thanks...” She held me up to the chart to put my stars up, and I couldn’t help but note that Liam no longer had a potty chart. “Where’s Liam’s?” I asked quietly as she laid me down. “Oh, silly boy, he doesn’t need one anymore,” she said with a smile. “No need to have one since he’s just using his diapees!” “Oh,” I said. I thought back to my memory of the potty charts and how many frowny faces and poop stickers were on most of the charts. If they went through with that proposed change for standards to be moved to diapers, I felt I would be the only one not in diapers in my nest. I wasn’t the final one in my pod that night, probably only the third to be put to bed. From my pod, I watched Mackenzie quickly diaper and dress the rest of my nest mates. I couldn’t help but note it seemed like she took more time on me than the others. Liam was the last one that night, and it was clear the diaper was not only wet when it came off. “Poor guy,” I thought and turned away from the clear outside to give the guy some privacy. ‘I can’t believe it’s only been two days of classes!’ I thought as I closed my eyes and attempted to get some much-needed sleep! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ I'm still traveling with limited privacy, so I may not respond to comments as soon as I normally do. Please leave the comments and likes though, so I can smile when I do get on next!!!!! The next chapter will be posted next Friday evening, thanks for reading!

Sarah's mom is a strict disciplinarian, with rules for anything and everything. When the 14-year-old girl begins to wet her pants again, will she be able to avoid getting caught in the web of all her mother's rules? Her mother is currently attempting to potty train Sarah's 3-year-old sister, Emilia, and it's been a disaster so far. Her mother has instituted a strict regimen of potty-training rules for Emilia, and as Sarah begins to experience an ever-increasing amount of daytime and bedwetting accidents, she must navigate school, sleepovers, cheerleading practices, and a new friendship while attempting to keep her condition a secret. --- Links to all of my stories are available at https://abdlwriter.wordpress.com Chapter 1: Crime and Punishment Christmas was my mother’s favorite time of the year. Can’t say the same for myself. I mean, don’t get me wrong. I liked Christmas as much as any other kid. Racing down the stairs at the crack of dawn to get the first glimpse of the surprises beneath the tree. Decorating cookies. And candy canes. I absolutely loved candy canes. But Mom took it to the extreme. And by extreme, I mean that I’d just stepped off the bus to the sight of her at the top of a ladder stringing lights across the front of the house. It was the first week of October. I did my best to keep a straight face despite the giggles coming from my friends Desi and Samantha. They knew the drill, but it didn’t make the situation any less funny to them. At least this year, Mom was not putting up Christmas-themed Halloween decorations. Skeleton Santa, anybody? Yeah, no thanks. I try not to make eye contact with Mom. I swear she was always trying to come up with new ways to embarrass me. She had on the absolute worst Christmas sweater, which was saying a lot because she’s got a closet full of them. It was unusually chilly for a fall day in New Mexico, and any excuse to wear a sweater was a good one for her. Walking quietly up the driveway, I nearly reached the front door - Christmas wreath on it and all - without catching her eye. Like I’d ever gotten away with that. “Sarah,” Mom yelled. “Make sure to check up on your sister before you start your homework. It’s been about thirty minutes.” “Sure thing, Mom,” I reply, followed by a sigh that was too small for her to notice. I might be turning fifteen soon, but any noticeable back-talk or back-anything meant risking some hard swats to my bottom. Having been an only child for the first eleven years of my existence, I was so thrilled when Emilia was born three-and-a-half years ago. I had helped decorate Emilia’s nursery, picking out all the colors and accessories. I even arrived at the hospital all proud with by big sister shirt on. That thrill had lasted all of three weeks until I graduated from adoring older sister to unpaid babysitter. And don’t tell me it builds character. I’d heard that cliché more than enough. I opened the door to the sound of “I’m dreaming of a White Christmas” serenading through the house, followed by the pitter-patter of bare feet scrambling across the wood floor. “You’re home! You’re home,” Emilia yelled as she rushed around the corner and gave me a hug around my waist. I mean, of course, I’m home. Not like Mom usually let me go anywhere else after school was out. Fourteen might be old enough to babysit my sister, but Mom didn’t think it was old enough to do things like sleepovers. Emilia was dressed in a pink Minnie Mouse t-shirt with a matching pink Minnie Mouse pull-up. If you were wondering what Mom had asked me to check, let’s just say my latest responsibility was being conscripted into the great potty-training war. This was our third attempt. Unfortunately, Mom hadn’t found my jokes about “World War Pee” to be particularly funny. We had made two heroic attempts at potty-training already: once when Emilia had turned two and again after her third birthday. We tried every tactic we could think of. Stickers, charts, rewards, special “big-girl” panties, potty-training toilets in every room of the house. There was a week where we had let Emilia just run around naked. That was such a mess. Mom had even half-joked about having me wear pull-ups to model good potty-training behavior for Emilia. I’m so glad she didn’t go through with that. This time around, though, we needed to succeed. There weren’t any other options. Emilia would be kicked out of her preschool if she wasn’t toilet trained by her fourth birthday. Mom threw a fuss with the daycare, but I don’t blame them. Who wants to be changing a four-year-old’s dirty diaper? I sure as heck didn't. Our most recent strategy was for Emilia to be wearing a special potty-training watch that went off every thirty minutes to remind her to go to the toilet. We’ve given up on those plastic potty-chairs - such a pain to clear up after - and had instead settled for a toddler seat that could be quickly placed on the toilet in our lone bathroom. “Guess what? Guess What?” Emilia clamored while giggling. “I’ve been dry all day.” I’m a bit skeptical of that statement. Emilia isn’t very good at noticing her accidents. What was that phrase Mr. Higgins had taught us from that president recently in history class? Oh yeah, “Trust, but verify.” Emilia smelled good, at least, so she hasn’t done a number two. That was a relief. The last thing I needed right now was a poopy pull-up to change. I checked the front of her pull-up as well, and the wetness indicators were, surprisingly enough, all still unchanged. Guess she was dry after all. At home, Mom never let Emilia wear anything to cover her pull-up. She wanted to always be able to know right away whether it was dry, wet, or messy. Beep, beep, beep, beep. Well, Mom was right about the timer needing to go off. “Come on, kiddo, it’s time to get you on the potty,” I said, grabbing Emilia by the hand. This was followed by her usual, drawn-out protestations: “I don’t have to go. I don’t. I don’t have to. I... I don’t.” Then she stomped her feet and started to pout. Emilia wouldn’t have dared to do that with Mom, but I’m the good cop after all. On other days, I might have attempted to gently cajole her into cooperation. Today I wasn’t having any of it. I grabbed her under the armpits with both hands and hauled her off to the bathroom with her whining all the way. A few minutes later, it turned out that she had needed to pee after all. With the potty-training out of the way - for half-an-hour at least - I raced off to the kitchen to get an after-school snack. A few minutes of looking through the cupboards, fridge, and pantry left me feeling less hungry. There isn’t junk food of any type in sight. Mom had been on a health binge recently. I settle for a bag of veggie chips instead. I take a look at my own watch. Thankfully, it didn’t come with a timer telling me when I had to go to the bathroom. But I had to start doing homework at 4:30 p.m. That’s another one of Mom’s rules. So that gave me just about twenty minutes or so to relax. I wasn’t the only one getting a break. Mom was in the living room as well, showing Emilia how to put together a simple puzzle - of Minnie Mouse no less, cause that was my sister’s thing right now. I had barely been on the couch for just a couple seconds when Mom interrupted me. “Did you wash your hands before you started eating, young lady?” she asked. Mom had certain ways of saying things. Young lady means she knows full well what the truthful answer was. Any attempt to fib your way out of the situation would be futile. “I’ll do it right now,” I replied. I didn’t want to outright admit how close I had come to breaking one of her rules. “Remember, twenty seconds,” Mom yelled after I had already headed off to the bathroom sink. When I came back to the living room, I wanted to take over the TV. There had to be something entertaining on. But I knew better than to interrupt what Mom was watching - home videos of our previous Christmas mornings. Look, most families videotape their Christmas mornings, and then that’s the end of it. They might upload it to YouTube or let the tapes collect dust in a cardboard box in the basement. But my mom, she loves to go back and watch them. It gets her in the Christmas spirit. I grabbed a library book instead and picked up from where I had left my last bookmark. “Why is Sarah wearing a pull-up?” Emilia interjected suddenly. I was confused at first. I mean, I had panties on, after all. Then it dawned on me. Bless young children and their questions. I looked up from my book to the video playing on the TV. The slightly grainy footage must have been about six years old. But there I was, clear as day, opening presents next to the Christmas tree while wearing no clothing other than a pull-up adorned with a colorful assortment of flowers and butterflies. The pull-up was sagging between my legs and clearly soaked. I looked at the screen awkwardly for a few more seconds as felt my face go flush red before turning back to intently looking at my book. Yes, I used to be a bedwetter, and my mom had ample evidence of it for all posterity. That was not something I liked being reminded about and was certainly not a subject I cared for my blabbermouth of a sister to be aware of. OK, this was too embarrassing. I hopped off the couch, tossed my empty bowl into the sink, and walked toward my bedroom. Getting an early start on homework was better than watching videos of myself in pull-ups. By my room, I really meant our room. Cause three people in a two-bedroom house means someone ends up sharing. Which was why I’m stuck in a room with my little sister. Sharing a room with a baby, or for that matter, a toddler that isn’t toilet trained, sucks. There was always that lingering, hard to describe diaper smell that seems to persist despite the mighty powers of the Febreze can I keep in the top drawer of my dresser. I opened my backpack and pulled out the new book we were studying in my AP Literature class, “Crime and Punishment.” Earlier today, I had struggled not to laugh when Mrs. Whittleworth passed out copies of the Dostoevsky novel. Crime and punishment. That was the story of my life, if there ever was one. Mom was big on rules. That was kind of her thing. And not just the normal rules a kid might have, like “no curse words” or “eat your veggies before your dessert.” My life was highly regulated. If I ever got a grade on any school assignment, that was less than an “A.” Well, that’s a spanking. My butt still hurts when I think about the one time I got a “D” on a test. With rules, come punishments, and I’d experienced every one known to childkind. Time-outs. Getting grounded. Having my mouth washed out with soap. And spankings. That was Mom’s favorite. She cherishes her grandfather’s wooden paddle like it was an actual family heirloom. Once I logged into the computer at my desk, I made sure not to go to any sites that weren’t educational. Yes, Mom tracks where I go online, and, yes, if I waste time watching cat videos on YouTube I’ll likely not be allowed to touch the computer for the rest of the week. I logged into the website our school uses to let us track homework assignments and grades. “Shit!” I said. I didn’t like what I saw, and I was glad Mom was far enough away not to hear me. Stupid Mr. Higgins had given me a “C” on that quiz on President Reagan from earlier this week. What could I have gotten wrong? Getting a “B” wasn’t too bad, especially if it was a “B+.” But a “C?” That wasn’t going to make things fun tonight. I did, however, have something going for me. Mom had one means of grace. If I’d broken a rule, and I told her rather than try to hide it or make her wait and find out herself, the punishment was usually a lot less. Mom did check my grades every couple weeks, but I would have heard it from her already if she’d seen it. I’d gotten better at avoiding spankings recently, but I didn't think I could get Mom in a good enough mood to talk her out of them for that bad of a grade on an assignment. But I didn’t have to decide immediately. There was not any chance she checks my grades from the living room couch. Instead, I grabbed “Crime and Punishment” and jumped onto my bed, only to be greeted with a loud, crinkling sound. So irritating. Normally, I wouldn’t pay attention to the crinkle coming from the plastic mattress cover on my bed. But after the video, it was just another awkward reminder of my bedwetting phase that I’d really rather put behind me. It wasn’t that Mom had been mean or strict about it, but it had still just been such a humiliating experience. What was funny about the bedwetting was that Mom was nicer, a little, about nighttime accidents. I’d heard that the condition - I forget the medical name for it - was hereditary, but no way would I ever ask her about it. I had wet the bed nearly every night until I was about nine. Mom never made too much of a fuss about it besides making me wear pull-ups every night and keeping a plastic cover on my mattress. I had to stay dry a whole month before I was allowed to stop with the pull-ups, but no matter how hard I asked, the plastic sheet was there to stay. That, and the reminders every night that I go potty before bed, you know, just in case, like I wasn’t a fully toilet trained teenager. The rules Mom was more stringent on were the ones about daytime potty-training. It almost made me feel bad for my bratty sister. Almost, but not really. The potty-training rules were as follows: No big girl panties unless you’ve gone seven straight days with no accidents. Any accident, no matter the reason, meant you were back in pull-ups. If you had two accidents in the same day, you’d be back in diapers for all the next day. Once every thirty minutes, you had to sit on the potty for three minutes. No lying about whether you’ve had an accident. Yeah, it’s strict, but I mean, I was potty-trained during the day before I turned two, according to my mom. And Desi and Samantha’s younger siblings, who I think were around the same age as Emilia, all were perfectly capable of using the toilet on their own. Who knew what was wrong with Emilia? I flipped through the first few pages of the book. I hated AP Lit. This book was going to be the death of me. I’d only got five weeks to read and then write a report on it. Maybe I’d ask Desi for help. At least she can get onto CliffsNotes without her parents caring or noticing. As I read through the opening chapter, I couldn’t help going back to think about my own impending punishment. After fifteen minutes and only three pages, I decided that I may as well get it over with. I set the book down and headed back toward the living room. I tried to be calm as I walked into the room. I really did. But Mom must have some sort of sixth sense cause she caught on right away that I was apprehensive about something. “Sweetie, what was wrong?” Mom asked. Sweetie, now that’s another one of my mom’s keywords. She does that when she suspects I’d done something wrong, but doesn’t know what. I could still back out now, tell her that everything was OK and hold off for another day. But though I had walked into the room determined to get the spanking over with, the words just stayed stuck in my mouth, refusing to come out. Mom gets what was going on. “Do you have something you need to tell me?” she asked. I nod and walk up to her. I know the drill. This scene had played out hundreds of times before in my life. I could recite it as well as any of the lines from my school play. But just like in real life, when it comes time to go before an audience, I always mucked it up. “Mom, I broke your rule about getting good school grades,” I spat out, garbling all the words together. “No, say that slower and enunciate your words.” “I got a ‘C’ on a quiz in my American History class,” I said crisply and clearly, with my eyes pointing down at my feet. “No, young lady, you look me in the eye while I’m talking to you.” I matched my mom’s eye and felt my face go full red. Oh, I hated how I had no control over my blushing. It just always seemed to amply the shame that I felt. I repeated about how I had gotten a ‘C’ on the quiz. “And why was it wrong for you to get that grade?” “Because I need to be an ‘A’ student so I can get a good scholarship and go to college.” “And what is the punishment for getting a ‘C’ on an assignment?” This was trickier, you see. While my mom had punishments, they weren’t always consistent. Make it too easier, and she might go a lot harder on you. But if you gave yourself too much of a punishment, well, you were stuck with that as well. I decided to play it cautiously. “A spanking.” Mom gave me that look. And I knew right away I had given the wrong answer. “And just how many spankings was that punishment going to be,” she said. I hesitated, which was bad. I’m always bad at thinking on my feet. I spat out the first number that comes to mind. “Twenty.” Bad, bad, bad idea Sarah. Twenty was more than I’d gotten when I’d burnt dinner and set off the fire alarm. I probably could have gotten away with just five. But Mom didn’t object, didn’t say that seems like a bit much. She just gave a soft smile and stood up from the couch. It was so unfair. “Hold still and lift up your shirt a little,” Mom said. I complied without saying a word. The shock of impending spankings was still fresh. Why, why, why did I have to suggest twenty of them? I pulled my shirt up just enough to reveal the top of my jeans and my belt. I felt Mom’s hands as she undid my belt buckle and then pulled the entire belt loose. Next, she unbuttoned my jeans, pulled them off my hips, and let them fall down. Mom sat back down on the couch. She didn’t have to say what I was to do next. I already knew. I stepped out of the jeans, leaving them in a pile in front of the couch and carefully lay on the couch facedown so that my bottom was directly on my mom’s lap. My head was facing the TV, which only added to the humiliation. The video was paused right at an angle where you could fully see how wet the pull-up was. Yellow and saggy. Why couldn’t Mom have changed me out of it before opening presents? Emilia had stopped building her puzzle, which was about halfway done, a look of puzzlement on her face. It had been a while since I’d been spanked. Who knows, maybe she doesn’t even remember having witnessed it before. I sure as heck didn’t want an audience for this. “Emilia,” Mom said. “Go get the black bag that was in mommy’s closet.” I should have known I wasn’t going to get away with her not using a paddle. We live in a small house. It shouldn’t have taken even Emilia more than a minute to grab the bag. But it felt like an eternity. Why did I have to get a stupid “C” on that quiz, anyway? All I had wanted was to get the spanking done and over with quickly, but it kept getting drawn out. The pitter-patter of Emilia’s feet signaled that she had at last come back to the room. The plain, black gym bag was what Mom used to keep all her disciplinary supplies in. Several types of paddles. Non-toxic soap to wash out mouths. Lotions and ointments for treatment after a spanking. The next choice Mom makes would greatly determine my level of discomfort. Please, please, please don’t use the wooden paddle, I prayed silently. After Mom had finished rustling through the bag, I saw Emilia come back into view, sitting on the floor next to the coffee table where she had been working on her puzzle. But she hadn’t gone back to playing. She was facing me with a curious look in her eyes. My face was burning now. Why couldn’t Mom just send her away? Without any warning, Mom pulled down my panties to expose my bare bottom. Oh great, this was it. She held the paddle against my bottom to line it up. And she had chosen the wooden one. I’d gone a year without getting a wooden paddle spanking. Smack. The first whack knocked the breath out of me. I was barely able to squelch a sob. The strikes proceeded likely clockwork every five seconds. One after another. Left. Right. Left. Right. I was able to hold out for the first few swats. But the tears and cries of pain were inevitable. Emilia watched the entire time. And that brat even started giggling. Suddenly, as quickly as they had started, the spankings came to a stop. The only sound in the room was my heavy breath and receding sobs. A cool sensation covered my bottom as Mom rubbed a lotion into my skin. Despite the relief it was giving, I knew sitting would be a pain in the you know what for the next week. Mom pulled my underwear back up and helped me sit on her lap. Her hand took a firm grip of my chin as she held my face steady with hers. “There, there,” she said. “Now, what lesson have you learned from this?” “I’ll study harder and get good grades. I promise.” I couldn’t help it. All the pent-up emotion, pain, and tension had to come loose again. The floodgates burst open, and I cried and cried and cried into Mom’s shoulder as she rubbed my back. It was over. Thank goodness it was over. Another beeping found filled the house. But it wasn’t Emilia’s watch. Mom quickly set me down on the couch. “Put your jeans back on and help your sister clean up her toys while I get the casserole out of the oven,” she said. Just the effort of sitting up and pulling on my jeans was enough to remind me of how sore I was going to be. As I finished pulling on my jeans, the sight of Emilia sitting in front of me gave me an idea about how to teach that brat that it was not nice to laugh when your sister was getting spanked. I reached down and ever so gently gave her the slightest of tickles, enough for her to feel my touch, but hopefully not enough to blame me for what was about to happen. If there was one way in which my sister and I were most alike was that we were super ticklish at even the slightest touch. I knew all her weak spots. The result was exactly what I had hoped for. Emilia jumped up with a little squeal and placed both hands on the front of her pull-up. I didn’t even need to look at the wetness indicator to know what had just happened. “Mom,” I yelled, doing my best to keep the satisfaction out of my voice. “Emilia just had an accident.” Karma may not be a bitch, but it certainly was a wet pull-up.

Love wearing diapers and I have been thinking.about princess print and pink what do you think?

I was a champion bedwetter until about age 10 and a half. I wore diapers to bed and probably wet them at least every second night. This was the 1980's so there were no pull-ups - just disposables or cloth, but my mom didn't like cloth much. I started putting them on myself when I was about 7 or so, but then my mom started helping me again when I got too big for them and we needed to use tape to keep them on - maybe when I was 9 or so.

Not for a while

If bedwetting is your goal don't worry about how long it takes to achieve this. Just enjoy the journey.

Hello there I’m new to this so just wanted to say hi

Just be extremely tired and try to act like a adult and not fall asleep. Then try to prove someone you aren't tired 😂. Oh don't have your doctor be the person you are trying to prove it to 😅 Insomnia is a pain and if you try to prove to a doctor you are fine after a month of not sleeping and loosing conciousness just to have a seizure and come to with your head threw the wall and blood in your mouth. They tend to ignore your adult side 😂 Ever been told "You aren't going home unless you take a 2hr nap, it's either that or I'm admitting you to the hospital for about 2 weeks." ? Yea I.. I.. I'll take the nap 😭

sorry-- wrong answer I believe that this is the right answer. It can't be drugs because what's in use today didn't exist back then. Hypnosis was probably in use, but it would just be a way to get the subject talking. Electro-shock therapy went out of style when they closed the asylums in the mid-60's, and dumped the inmates in the streets. Some ended up in jail, and some became the first homeless. The Viet Nam vets in this story are sort of a second homeless generation.

A. Eletro-shock Therapy

It's the @spoonchicken Anthem!

Better yet, I'm a big kid look what I can do, I can pee in my pants too! LOL! In all honesty, I think pull-ups can delay a child from being potty trained. I know because I potty trained two children and what held them back were the pull-ups. All they needed was a night light and an example. Thankfully one of those kids was a boy, and he saw me using the bathroom, and he never needed pull-ups after that because he admires me so much. I still had to wipe his butt, but he never had an accident ever. The diaper gave him freedom to use it though he could do better. I'm so proud of my Godson. 🙂 Didn't mean to beat a dead horse or anything.

even if youre not sissy, its fun to wear pink or girly diapers as a boy. it can be humilating, it can be thrilling. think of it as playing dress up!

My G/F and I wore blue and pink Megamax to our granddaughters gender reveal ( we were sure it was girl but decided to have a little fun with our diapers ) 100 % of people at party change us , so it was not an issue of being discrete or hiding something . If you got pink tape it up ( matter of fact mothers rejected corporate America bringing out pink for boys and blue for girls ) diaper history deserves to be remembered !

Dreams & Reality Part 4 of 5 It was Saturday afternoon and Hemingway's white bull and Sarah were staring at each other; neither of them willing to back down. She had dozens of ideas, but they were all on the colourful post-it notes on the wall behind her kitchen table instead of on the computer screen. Sarah took another sip of water and swore inwardly. She had written six beginnings and then edited and tweaked them until every sentence was gone. Normally, she would have spent the weekend with Nikki, but those plans had been changed when one of Nikki's co-workers managed to break his leg. Nikki had been asked at the last minute to take his place representing her company at some kind of conference. The overtime pay she had been offered had just been too good to pass up. The two of them had agreed to give each other updates and over the last two days, Sarah's phone had been getting regular updates about boring meeting and even more boring customers. In return, Sarah had shared her progress, or rather lack thereof, with Nikki. Just before lunch, Sarah had thought that maybe a change of scenery might help. She had grabbed a notebook and pencil and gone out to eat. People-watching hadn't given her any good ideas and the lunch had been salty and spicy enough to make her thirsty for hours afterwards without really tasting all that great. When she returned to her apartment, Sarah had tried to distract herself by doing laundry, emptying the dishwasher and vacuuming the living room. Eventually, there were no more chores to do and no excuses not to get started on her story. Sarah leaned back and glared at the empty screen. Maybe I just need some motivation. Sarah got up and left the kitchen. When she returned, she had changed into her most baggy and comfortable sweat pants and a black tank top and around her neck was her collar. When she sat down in front of the computer again, she could hear the soft, crinkling sound of her thick diaper. Sarah pulled out her phone and snapped a selfie showing off her collared neck. She composed a quick caption and sent it to Nikki. Sarah: Trying to get into the right mindset for the story. She didn't have to wait long for a reply. Sarah barely had time to refill her water bottle before her phone made the familiar sound of an incoming message. Mommynatrix: Words still not cooperating? Sarah: Been working all day, but still nothing. :-| Mommynatrix: Sounds like u need a little help. ;-) Sarah: Yes please. Mommynatrix: Yes please what? Sarah: Yes please Ma'am. Mommynatrix: Better. U wearing your diapers 2 or just the collar? Sarah considered pulling down her pants to take a picture of the diapers and send it to Nikki, but decided against it since she didn't know who else could see Nikki's screen. Sarah: Just put on a thick one Ma'am. Mommynatrix: Good. Now, your mistress orders you to get started on your story. And no bathroom breaks before we skype. Sarah: Yes Ma'am. Sarah adjusted the added bulk between her legs and cracked her knuckles. Okay, let's get started.

Chapter ten of fourty It was the middle of the night and Jasper woke up. "'Ice tea,' he thought immediately. "I shouldn't have had so much of that." From the moment he moved, even before he got out of bed to pee, he sensed and remembered that he was wearing a nappy. He remembered from all the times before that no one minded if he used it. He also remembered that he was wearing a onesie, which he couldn't take off himself anyway. He crawled back into bed and tried to relax. As he was in a position he was not used to peeing in, it did not work. He tried everything, like applying pressure, trying to imagine himself standing on the beach, a little relaxation exercise. It didn't work. Finally, he stood up and when he imagined that he was standing in front of a toilet, it finally worked. Happy that the pressure was gone, he crawled back into bed and slept without interruption until the next morning. "Good morning, Jasper and Dries." Celine and Helga said cheerfully as they entered the living room. The two boys were sitting in front of the television, enjoying their favourite soap. "How are your nappies?" Celine asked as she approached. Neither boy answered, but their red faces said it all. "Dries, your mum doesn't like you running around in a wet nappy. Will you go upstairs and freshen up?" said Celine sternly. "Jasper, why don't you come too?" said Helga. Jasper immediately followed her to the upstairs bathroom where he was helped by Celine. Dries turned off the TV and followed the others upstairs. "Be quiet for Gert, he will get angry if we wake him up." Jasper spoke softly to Dries as he also entered the bathroom. Celine unzipped Jasper's nappy and helped him out, undoing the buttons on the bodysuit, pulling the two tapes and carefully removing the nappy. Busy as she was, she went straight through, grabbed a washcloth and washed the wide intimate area clean. "Dries, here's a clean washcloth and towel for you. Jasper, can you come into the bedroom? We'll pick out all your clothes for the day there." In the bedroom, Jasper sat on the bed, waiting to see what his mother would choose. Celine looked between Jasper and the wardrobe. Smiling at her idea, she took the necessary clothes and sat down next to Jasper. "Jasper, this bodysuit, are you going to keep it on? It's less work to leave it on. I've brought you the appropriate underwear that fits a bodysuit." Jasper looked surprised at the nappy in his mum's hand. "Another pamper mummy?" "Yes, why not? You don't mind wearing it and Dries is so happy with it? And you already have a bodysuit on, otherwise we would have to take it off. It can only go so much faster and smoother." "Um, okay," Jasper said. It was strange for him to put on a nappy again, but he couldn't immediately think of an argument not to, except that it was strange. Jasper got the nappy on straight away. The bodysuit was closed, then shorts and a nice colourful hoodie with a picture of a dragon on it. "Hop, you can go down to the kitchen now." Celine said. She smiled and looked at Jasper. She knew she'd twisted the truth about what was fast and smooth, but she thought Jasper looked cuter that way. It was just for once and she had enjoyed looking after Jasper like she used to. As Jasper went downstairs, Dries entered the room with only his towel wrapped around his waist. "Hi Dries, Jasper's in a nappy again. Are you going to do the same?" Celine asked. Dries looked up in surprise. "Really? Did he do that for me? So sweet of him," he said with a beaming smile. "Yes, he did. Do you want one too?" "Do I have to?" Dries asked carefully. He didn't really feel like it, but he didn't want to be inferior to Jasper or disappoint Celine. Celine didn't want to force anything on Dries. She had thought it was cute yesterday, the two children together in their nappies, but Dries was not her child and she did not know him well enough to know for sure what was possible and what was not. "No, of course not." Celine replied. Dries then turned to his clothes, put his towel down and started to get dressed. Celine left Dries alone and went to her room to change as well. Helga was already dressed and in the kitchen preparing breakfast with Jasper. When everything was ready, Celine, who was also dressed by now, and Dries went into the kitchen and they all sat down at the table. Dries sat in Gert's place. Gert wouldn't get out of bed and show himself until noon anyway. They happily started breakfast. "Jasper," Helga started, "when Dries goes home this afternoon. Will you come along and help carry his bag?" "Yes, that's fine, Mummy," Jasper replied. "But what do I do with the bodysuit I'm wearing?" "Do you still have that bodysuit on? But how?" Helga didn't quite understand at first. "Do you still...?" Celine interrupted. "Yes, it was my suggestion." Helga looked hard at Celine. "Is that appropriate?" Then she turned to Jasper. "Soon after dinner we'll take them off and then you can wear normal underpants and a T-shirt." Celine looked back at Helga. "Look how cute he looks." Celine said with a big smile and sparkling eyes. Helga melted under her lover's gaze. "Okay Jasper, that's good for this time. You decide when to take it off." "Okay, Mummy," he replied and Jasper pounced on his two-coloured chocolate sandwich. Dries remained silent the whole time, looking at Jasper with a big smile on his face. "Thank you," he whispered when he had Jasper's attention for a moment. Meanwhile, he pointed at Jasper's waist. Jasper felt warm inside, happy that he had made his friend happy. After dinner, Jasper and Dries cleaned up nicely. Once again Helga made good use of the Jasper and Dries combination. She had innocently asked Jasper if he could show Dries where to put everything. "I will, Mum." Jasper said cheerfully, happy to be given some responsibility. In no time the table was cleared and the boys were playing. First they played together for half an hour on the Nintendo, then they played in the woods and finally they ended up on the trampoline in the garden. They enjoyed the spring, which was now in full bloom. Little by little, Jasper let his pee flow. Apart from himself, no one noticed that Jasper was not completely dry by lunchtime. Gert was there for lunch too. He didn't dare say much with his two mothers at the table, but his looks were enough for Jasper and Dries to know that Gert was in a bad mood and wanted to take it out on Jasper and Dries. So Jasper and Dries kept quiet at the table and as soon as they were allowed to, they left the table, took Dries' bag and went to his house. When they arrived at Dries', Koen, Kathy and Heleen were sitting at the table enjoying a dessert. "Can we have some ice cream too?" Dries asked his parents. Koen nodded that it was fine. Kathy added. "You can choose one from the freezer." Dries took a ice-cream cone and Jasper took an ice-cream on a stick. "How was the sleepover?" Heleen asked Jasper and Dries. "It was nice that Dries was allowed to stay the night." Jasper began to tell. From beginning to end, he talked about all the activities they had done. Koen and Kathy were amazed at Jasper's waterfall of words. He was usually much quieter, but Jasper had obviously enjoyed the sleepover. The family sat listening to Jasper and watching his expressive facial expressions, all the while enjoying their ice cream. Jasper himself hadn't had time to eat the ice cream, he was so busy telling the story. He'd only licked it a couple of times, and when he waved his hand back and forth, the ice cream popped off his stick. Jasper tried to catch it with his other hand, but was unsuccessful. Reflexively, he closed his legs and the ice cream landed on his trousers. He clamped the ice between his legs before it slid further down to the ground. Before anyone could react, Jasper had picked up the ice cream between his legs with his fingers and accidentally smeared it. When he stood up again, there was a large wet sugar stain on his trousers. "Wow, Jasper," Kathy said. "Don't worry, accidents happen. Put the ice in the sink and take off your trousers and hand them to me and I'll rinse the stain off." Jasper listened immediately. He put the ice cream in the sink, rinsed his hands under the tap and then took off his trousers. Jasper hadn't thought about it, but he was still wearing this morning's nappy with Dries' bodysuit on it. Everyone immediately recognised the bodysuit with the underwear. Kathy and Koen were diplomatically silent about it, but Heleen blurted it out immediately. "Jasper, you're wearing a nappy!" "Uh, yes, Mama Celine..." Jasper lost track of what he was going to say. He himself did not really understand how he had ended up in a nappy again this morning. "It's OK, I think you're just doing your best today to make Dries happy." Kathy came to Jasper's aid. Jasper nodded vigorously. Now that Kathy had said it, Jasper felt that his subconscious was in complete agreement. Dries stood next to Jasper at the sink and rinsed his hands as well, completely changing the subject by asking Jasper to come upstairs and play with the Lego. Jasper nodded that it was fine. He handed the trousers to Kathy and the boys went upstairs together. Kathy immediately put the trousers under the tap to wash off the sugar water. Upstairs in his room, Dries took off his sweater. "Pfff, way too hot in here," he meanwhile said. Jasper followed his example, playing next to Dries in just a bodysuit and nappy. Heleen had helped her parents with the dishes and arrived in Dries' room half an hour later. She brought a book to read and enjoyed the pleasant conversation between Dries and Jasper. Jasper lay on his stomach, busy arming the Lego knights, while Dries rummaged through the loose Lego for bricks to build a prison for the bad guys. Because Jasper was running around bare-legged and the bodysuit was not very thick, Jasper was starting to get a bit cold. The cold affected his bladder and soon his nappy was wet. Heleen, who had been watching from the bed, finally noticed. As Jasper crawled back and forth across the room, she could see the nappy sagging under his weight. It was too heavy for the bodysuit to provide much support. Heleen quietly went downstairs to tell her mother. "Mum, Jasper's nappy looks pretty full." "I hadn't even thought about it. Who knows how long he hasn't worn it. I'll be right up to help him." Kathy said. Five minutes after Heleen had settled back on the bed, Kathy came into the room. She brought a nappy, a towel and a wet washcloth with soap from the bathroom. "Jasper, come here. We need to do something about that thick package around your bottom. We won't be looking for underpants this time. I brought a nappy right away." Kathy said. She walked over to the bed and sat down. "Heleen, can you move a bit to give me room?" Heleen put down her book and moved aside until she was sitting at the foot of the bed. Jasper came between her and Kathy and lay down on the bed, his head facing Heleen and his legs towards Kathy. "Here, first the towel under your bottom." Kathy said. "Let's make a bridge." Jasper listened meekly and cooperated well throughout the entire change. "Helen, can you fasten the buttons?" Helen had been watching intently and jumped up to carry out the task. Kathy, meanwhile, dived into Dries' wardrobe. "Your trousers from this morning are still too wet to wear. I'll look in here for a pair of Dries' trousers." Kathy said to Jasper. Jasper got up from the bed and walked over to Kathy. He looked at the trousers that were folded up in the cupboard. "Hmmm, this might work," Kathy said as she took a pair of Dries' green dungarees out of the cupboard. "I'll shrink everything down first and then we'll try the bib overall, Jasper." Kathy adjusted the shoulder straps to the smallest setting, then held the trousers open for Jasper to climb into. The two straps went over the shoulder and the buckles were fastened. Kathy looked at the whole thing critically. "That will do. Go on playing Jasper. Dries, don't you have to go to the toilet?" Kathy asked Dries, who had come to watch. Kathy left the room and let all three children do their thing. Jasper could go home with the dungarees later, she would get them back another time.

I'm going to be 100% in the present on this one🤓. I wish it wasn't so damn hot out 😂. I think the heat fried my dog's brain, here it is 85⁰F and she covered up in the heavy winter blanket I used as a couch cover 🙄.

I wet the bed just about every night until I was 17, almost 18. My mother didn't diaper me, she just washed all my bedding every day. I always had a bed protector on my mattress. When I was young it was a rubber sheet that just covered a square where I slept. Sometime when I was older they started making vinyl fitted sheets which she put on under my bottom sheet. I have always rolled around in my sleep and I like to be warm so some days I would wake up soaked and find myself wrapped up in my top sheet, blanket and bedspread and they would all be soaked. They used a "Wee Alert" generously donated by a friend's mother because his younger sister wet the bed and it worked on her. It worked on me too eventually. I would have preferred to remain a bed wetter because the alarm breaks your sleeping pattern. I have a small bladder and almost never slept through the night again because the alarm teaches your brain to wake you right up as soon as you feel the need to pee. It is so efficient that even now when I go to bed securely diapered I still become conscious of my wetting at night. I am able to just fall back to sleep instantly but it's still annoying. Hugs, Freta

You'd been grounded. Grounded. For a month. Like some kind of fussy kid who talked back to mom. And, well...that description isn't exactly wrong, except that you were old enough to rent a car and you'd talked back to Mommy. And unlike 'Mom', Mommy had no problem playing her punishments dirty. You couldn't go out, not for anything fun. You could go to work, and come home, and that was it. The parental controls she put on the wifi, that was another matter. You could text, you could call, but the internet was a tool only accessible through her laptop, and only with her supervision. Even the TV was blocked; Mommy had changed her Netflix password. The real punishment was the chastity - she'd locked you up on day one, and outside of carefully supervised cleanup times, you'd have to say a long goodbye to your naughty bits. Worst of all, though, was Mommy's solution to make sure you were obedient when she wasn't there to watch you. The honor system wouldn't cut it. Mommy wanted to know for a fact that you didn't leave the house while she was away. She'd floated the idea of a shock collar, but found it too restrictive - what if there was a fire? An accident? No, she needed something better. Her solution made you wish she'd gone with the shock collar. It was simple, really - When Mommy needed to out on the weekends or in the evening, to run errands, or to spend time with her friends, or just because she felt like it, she'd take you to the bathroom, lay you down, and flood your bottom with a double-dose of fleet enemas. Then, once your bottom was well and truly full, she taped a diaper snugly around your hips. Then, to truly prevent all tampering, she put on the locking cover. You couldn't hold it, and you certainly couldn't make it to the potty. If you left the house, even a little, everyone in smelling range would clock your mush tush in an instant. But, that was the point - You weren't supposed to leave the house. You'd been grounded. ... Threw this together on a whim - I hope you enjoyed! Support the creator.

Good to see you. I’ve always liked the Munchausen-like qualities of Maturosis, it’s an extra dimension in the diaper dimension, and it’s perfect for manipulation and gas lighting. It’s also a fun catch-22 game played between Amazons and Littles, and I’m happy I get to borrow it for my Maturosis ‘fan fiction’. As far as him breaking, Kaleb is about to learn the hard lesson that a little self doubt can go a long way. Especially when the Cushioning test goes into high gear. Their missing friend comes back from the Empathy Center in this chapter, which begins the outside influences on this story, including yours. When does textbook-based Maturosis fly back at the Bigs like a boomerang? Starting now. Well, more details in the next chapter, this one is long enough already. Kaleb doesn’t quite think of himself as a baby. He’s just starting to reconsider what he previously considered Amazon lies and ‘textbook nonsense’. Don’t worry. This won’t be his last tussle with Beckie, maybe he’ll feel more willing next time around. If the Amazons have their way Kaleb will learn to enjoy his diapers. ————- This chapter is pretty wordy and covers a lot of ground. I didn’t get as far into the new ideas as I wanted, but I did get to bring in a new character that came from suggestions. I started ‘Recessive’ based on one sentence: “No, mom, I don’t have Maturosis.” I had a story with an ending in mind, but it was just going to be a simple Amazon vs Betweener story about a one-sided sibling rivalry. After I posted, good writers and good commenters came up with some good ideas. I considered them, but I wasn’t sure how to make Maturosis work with the Bigs. I know now. It doesn’t get to be revealed this chapter, but it’s coming. The trajectory of the story is going to change, and no one is safe; but don’t worry, Kaleb still has his journey to take, he still has to get to the other side of the Cushioning, but there may be some changes heading his way — and not just his diapers. Thanks for reading, and liking, and commenting. ——— 12 Lunch was already on the table when Layla escorted him from his room to the kitchen. A fruit salad sat at his usual spot, alongside a plastic plate of animal crackers and a tiny cup of milk. This kind of daycare fare was something he could expect for a long time, if this Maturosis thing got the better of him. Think positive thoughts, Kay. One step in front of the other; that’s how he learned to walk through the tough phases of life, but would this phase end with a dirty diaper? Kaleb halted at the edge of the table. His heart pounding. His throat caught. Layla tried to pull out his chair, but he stopped it with his bare foot. “Who made my lunch?” Kaleb stammered, all too wary of a hidden powder-pack of laxatives. “I want to know if there’s anything bad in it.” “Quit being silly,” Layla sounded annoyed. “Why would there be anything bad in your food?” “I dunno,” muttered Kaleb. “A Little named Callie comes to mind.” “Come on, Little bro. If you keep acting this paranoid, I’ll have to log it into your data. Let me help you sort it out. Callie is a Little, you are not. She has a more extreme case of Maturosis than you. That is, unless you think your Maturosis is on her level.” “I’m not saying that!” Kaleb said louder than he wanted. “I’m just asking a simple question, so who made my lunch?” “I did! It was me!” Beckie exclaimed from the living room. She was supposed to be compiling the data from the day before, but her eyes hadn’t left him since he came from the hallway. In his room, Layla had informed Kaleb that Beckie was on strict orders to give him space, and it appeared as if she struggled with Layla’s commands. The exile to the living room wasn’t the only thing she was struggling with. Beckie seemed to be sweating from everywhere. There were dark patches all over her gray workout shirt; under her arms, at her heaving bust, and a stain blossomed at her lower back. Her face was flushed into a deep crimson, especially around her cheeks and her maudlin smile. The short haired cheerleader cooled herself with a makeshift fan from a stack of research papers. “Do you like it, Kay? Please tell me that you do. I did my very best. Whew! Did summer get here early, should we turn up the air conditioner?” Kaleb returned his attention back to his stepsis, expecting an explanation for Beckie’s odd behavior. “Try to ignore her,” advised Layla, “it’s a mothering thing.” Kaleb grumbled, “You’re going to have to do better than that.” “Alright, for your curiosity’s sake, I will.” Layla pulled the chair out without further fuss from her stepbrother. “Beckie seems to be suffering from a hormonal imbalance. Hot flashes. Excitable personality. Hunger for empty carbs and sugars. Her body is starting to physically respond to being around a baby. We normally take pills to control this reaction until we adopt, but Beckie seemed to have ‘forgotten’ hers.” “Hormones? Body response?” Kaleb squinted as he thought about what she said, then spoke low enough only for his stepsister to hear. “She wouldn’t be lactating, would she?” “That’s none of your business,” answered Layla, with a hint of a grin. “All you need to do is sit down and eat some food. I’ll bet you’ve got an angry tummy.” Yeah. Beckie was 100%, totally lactating. Her teenage Amazon body sent into a tailspin preparing to nurse a Little. The only problem was there wasn’t any other Littles around, only Kaleb; so it would be wise for him to steer clear of Beckie. Suddenly, lunch didn’t sound so appetizing. “Sorry, but I’m not hungry,” Kaleb lied, he was withering away from the inside. “Uh-oh, I think I hear your Maturosis talking.” Layla snaked her hands around his waist just above his diaper, threatening to lift him from the ground. “Since you’re having a bad day, I’ll give it to you plainly: Either you get into your booster, or I’ll put you there myself.” It had been a total of five minutes since the eavesdropping incident, and the two of them were already at each other’s throats. This was common between them; the bickering, fighting, and Layla getting the upper hand. All of this interaction was par for the course. So why did he keep playing this game? Good question. Yes, his stepsister made some good points when she unknowingly explained every bit of his dark future. Yes, her ideology was fact based and textbook approved, plus she had the support of practically all of civilized society. Yes, she was bigger, smarter, and stronger than him. An honor student with perfect attendance, a class and family favorite, a ‘do-no-wrong’, ‘one-of-a-kind’ perfection of an older sibling. But, no. He didn’t fully buy into her sciency schtick, even if he had raging doubts about his own stance on Maturosis. Kaleb dug in his heels and crossed his arms, he wasn’t going to be led along so easily. He shook her hold on his hips with a quick shimmy. “I don’t think you heard me right, Big sis. I just told you that I’m not hungry. Besides, Maturosis doesn’t talk, because it doesn’t exist, and because it’s all made up garbage like the rest of your stupid textbook.” Layla lowered herself down to his level, all it took was a bend at the hips and both hands on her knees. Now they were face to face to have a heart to heart. “I thought we were passed this, Kay-Kay.” Her voice was soft, but harbored a hidden sharpness, like a dagger sheathed in silk. “You’re so deep into regression that you’re not in the right state of mind. You haven’t had anything to eat all day. This isn’t about torturing you, it’s about self-care. If you don’t take care of yourself, someone else will. If you don’t eat this lunch, I’ll be forced to make a bottle and lay you across Beckie’s lap.” Kaleb shuddered from the insinuation, and its corresponding mental image. “Who knows?” continued Layla. “She might not need the bottle to feed you.” Unconsciously, his eyes snuck over to Beckie on the couch. The Amazon wore a beaming smile as she tapped the top of her lap with both hands. Layla was serious about the bottle, and the other vaguely veiled threat. He knew better than to test her resolve, and he was super hungry. “Okay.. okay… I’ll eat the fruit.” Kaleb raised his hands into the air, making it easier for Layla to lift him into his familiar booster seat. His butt knew that seat more than anything, but he expected it to feel different since he was now diapered. What he didn’t expect was the new shale gray safety strap attached to seat that was totally not there before. The world rocked wildly as he tried to resist. He managed to croak, “Hey! Wait!” as she managed to control him. Kaleb struggled in her grip as she spun him around, placing him diaper first into the booster. He grabbed at her wrist as she reached for the nylon strap, applying the brakes the same way as he did with the dining chair. Layla groaned, “What is it now?” “What do you think?” Kaleb kicked at his stepsister. “I think you’re acting like a child,” replied Layla. Kaleb shook his head. “No, I’m not.” Layla didn’t have to say anything in return; he was totally acting like a child, and Kaleb totally knew it. Why was a simple and silly seat-strap a big deal to him? Two words: Changes and reasons. There was no reason for this change. And it was infuriating. Managing his temper was starting to feel like a full time job. Any kind of emotional outburst would look like Maturosis in the ever watchful eyes of an Amazon. He’d learned this fact from listening through the wall; and despite what his teachers had claimed, Kaleb wasn’t stupid. On the other hand, it was just a seat belt, meant to go over his lap, to be buckled with a plastic buckle. This was hardly the firing squad that his threat sensors made it out to be. He was over-reacting, so what? Sometimes, his brain had a mind of its own, waving red flags where there wasn’t danger. Still, changes and reasons. Reasons for changes. His mind kept traveling down that well-worn path, the one he’d trekked his whole life, the one that denied what the Bigs wanted him to be. The path made good arguments, sound ones. Kaleb had been sitting in the booster for a good part of his teens, and he’d never had he needed a belt to sit in it. Kaleb burned with more questions, grabbing and choking the strap with his right hand like it was a deadly snake. He snarled at his stepsister, his hands were shaking for some reason. His face felt hot to the touch and not because he was lactating. Kaleb asked, “What’s this?” “A safety strap,” Layla answered as she ripped the belt free from his hands. “So you don’t fall out of your chair and bump your head.” Kaleb cleared his throat, some defiance was in order. The insinuation from the new strap sunk deep into his bones. It would start with seat belts and end in high chairs, that’s the way this Maturosis cookie ‘crumbled’. “I don’t need a ‘safety strap’,” insisted Kaleb. “I’ve never fallen out before, and I can sit perfectly fine on my own.” “Alright,” sighed Layla. “I guess you’ll need another explanation.” He could tell that her patience was wearing thin, but Kaleb couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or not. Okay, he could decide. It was funny. The biggest punchline was watching his stepsister slowly get mad over his incessant questions, like a witchy frog in boiling water. This time around, Kaleb got to control the temperature. Layla continued her lesson on Maturosis, while Kaleb tried to prepare more questions, hoping to get a ‘reaction’. “One of the many side effects of the onset of Maturosis is the loss of equilibrium…” “Equal what?” interrupted Kaleb. Layla sighed. “Your center of balance…” “What about it?” asked Kaleb. “Let me finish for once,” Layla said harshly, she had the ever-so familiar look of an angry teacher. “Or are you going to keep interrupting me?” “I just have questions,” Kaleb said with a shrug. “You know who else has questions?” Layla snarked back at her brother. “Four year olds ask too many questions, that’s who. And are you four years old?” “No!” Kaleb expressed in way that said ‘I’m not a four year old’. Layla wrapped his small Tweener hands into one of hers and softly placed them into his lap. She was treating him like a preschooler, which wasn’t exactly calming. “Then be quiet and let me finish. Now where was I? Okay. Maturosis leaves its fingerprints throughout the brain. There is evidence that the physical regression starts inside the cerebellum. You know, the part of the brain that maintains muscle control, posture, equilibrium.” Kaleb went to interrupt with another stupid question, but Layla put a finger to his lips. “As Maturosis works its way through your brain, it toggles and switches, makes changes here and there, reverting mental capacity to that of a young child. Unfortunately, regression is a natural progression for Littles. Are you following?” Layla paused for him to ask another question, but he didn’t have one ready to fire back. “I asked you something,” Layla minded him softly. “Are you following, Kay-Kay?” Unfortunately, Kaleb was following. Despite all his efforts to do otherwise, despite all of his hatred towards this textbook stuff, despite all of his doubts, he was following like a good little duckling. “Um.. yeah.” Kaleb swallowed hard. “I’m following.” “Good boy,” continued Layla, she rubbed the sides of his bare thighs. “The cerebral adjustment is the reason why Littles, who have been walking just fine all of their lives, suddenly need help getting around. That’s why we have strollers and car seats, high chairs and cribs. That’s why they ‘toddle’ like toddlers, and in bad cases, they may need to crawl like babies.” “Oh, no, no, no.” Kaleb wasn’t following anymore. “The reason Littles crawl around is due to you guys. I’ve heard of the surgeries. You know, the ones that mess them up and force them to crawl.” “Once again, you’re failing to understand.” Layla pulled the strap across his lap, preparing to buckle him in. This time, she tapped his hands away when he went to protest. “Those surgeries are for their protection. It’s dangerous to try to walk and fall over, over and over again. They could bump their Little heads. Not all Amazons Little-proof their houses, one sharp table corner, and we’re talking about more than just little ‘boo-boos’.” Kaleb had to question this kind of logic, it was bad to let the Bigs run roughshod with their philosophy. “So you’re saying that you hobble Littles in the name of their protection?” “Of course!” Layla exclaimed with an inappropriate amount of gusto. “Everything we do is for their safety, everything we say is for their benefit. The baby treatment isn’t for our sakes, they need the diapers because they lose control of their ‘pottying’. It doesn’t stop there either, the onesies and baby clothing comes from multiple studies. The research states that Littles are calmed by pastel colors, soft infantile clothing, and they loved being considered cute. In fact, Maturosis changes their sexuality, adjusts their desires, and gives them mommy and daddy cravings, it’s all in the textbook.” “Oh, I’m sure it is,” replied Kaleb. “You think that this is all about Amazons?” Layla sounded shocked, but not too shocked. “That we’re all some crazy cult of motherhood, that we force Littles into sucking their thumbs and messing their pants? I mean, why would we want to change their dirty diapers? That’s ridiculous.” “I heard that Beckie likes changing dirty diapers,” hissed Kaleb, he didn’t like all of the ‘pin-it-all’ on the Littles kind of energy. Layla snapped his buckle together with a loud ‘click’. “Now, where would you hear something like that? Were you spying on our ‘grown-up’ conversation?” Yikes. She’d caught him in the act of eavesdropping after the fact. Kaleb searched for words, but none came, only a good case of the ‘Ums-and-Uhs’. “Uh… um… umm… uhhhh..” “It’s okay, Kay-Kay. Beckie does like taking care of those who need taking care of. Who doesn’t? Littles are sweet, and Littles are cute, and let me let you in on a secret.” Layla leaned in close to her stepbrother, he could feel the heat from her skin, but he didn’t shrink from her as she towered over him, eclipsing the light fixture over the table. “I think she wants to take care of you,” said Layla in a hushed voice. “What do you think of that?” “Nah, really? Where would you get that idea?” Kaleb whispered with enough sarcasm to down a rhino. “She tried to make me ‘orgasm’ in my diaper.” Layla giggled. “Make you? And you weren’t willing at all? You remind me so much of the Littles that mess their pants. They always say that the Amazons make them, but they’re just being ridiculous, like all babies.” “What about Callie?” argued Kaleb, his tone was accusatory, and he was starting to get mad. “You poisoned her bottle. You ‘made’ her mess her diaper. You made me wet my pull-up. Now, I’m in a diaper. You made me take this Cushioning test, now I’m being strapped into a booster seat. What’s next, a high chair? Or a crib? A car seat? Daycare? A nanny?” Layla returned her classic ‘smarter-than-you’ smirk as he got upset; she probably thought his bad attitude was just another symptom. Or worse, that his red faced tirade only made him look cute. Like it or not, he was in his seat, all buckled and ready to eat. He was safe, and secure, and everything that she wanted him to be: An oversized toddler in just a t-shirt and a diaper. “You’re wild, Kay-Kay. This isn’t some grand conspiracy. We’re trying to look after you since you’re unable to look out after yourself. We’re helping you be your best ‘you’, that’s all. Now let’s talk about your eating.” To help him eat his chopped fruit, Layla had given him a special Cushioning test plastic fork. It was baby blue like his diaper with an elephant on the end, exactly the kind of fork that a Little would use, but Kaleb was past the point of arguing. Anything he could do to protest would be used to further explain his descent into Maturosis. Of course, Layla took the time to explain how the fork had sensors and weights to help measure the stigmatic ‘deterioration’ of his ‘fine motor’ skills. Those were mostly her words, not his. She also added a few more scientific terms with many syllables, but he didn’t pay attention to them since he was dead behind the eyes. When she was finished, she double checked the fastening keeping him in place. Then she eyed the wetness indicator at his crotch for a second before she turned away, to leave him to eat by himself. Then she turned back. Layla looked concerned. “Anything wrong, Kay-Kay?” “No,” Kaleb grumbled back, “nothing wrong.” Which was a lie, because everything was wrong. Layla ruffled his feathery hair. “Then get that sour-puss pout off your face, puffy britches.” Sour-puss pout? Puffy britches? That was metaphorical sponge talk, not Layla talk. Whatever. His stepsister was about to go away, and he was about to get some blissful silence. But before she did, Layla planted a friendly kiss on the cheek, which he immediately scrubbed off with a balled fist. “I know you don’t like your safety strap, but you don’t want to fall out and get a ‘boo-boo’. I also know that you’re super nervous about what happens next. Don’t you worry, you’ll always have your Big sis. You’re precious to me, my sweet Kay-Kay. All of this is for you.” There was something wrong with the way Layla used his pet name. ‘Kay-Kay’ was just about as old as their relationship, she’d always referred to him as a child because she knew it bothered him. But this time, ‘Kay-Kay’ lingered behind without the mockery that typically came with it. Kaleb tested the sliced fruit with a touch of the tongue, sniffed at the zoo cookies, and took a pair tentative sips of the milk. No tampering detected. Nothing strange going on, nothing secret. He was also very hungry and very thirsty, so he didn’t put up any fuss or a fight or a fit. He shoved a tiger cracker in his mouth, appreciating its salty sweet crunchiness. Kay-Kay. No big deal. He’d heard it many times before. It just came across differently, that’s all. There was no reason to dwell on it. So why was he dwelling on it? It just sounded different. Endearing, even. Like Layla actually cared about him — he didn’t know why he suddenly felt that way, but he did. Maybe it was a lingering effect from his ill-advised foray into eavesdropping, or it had something to do with saving him from Beckie in his bedroom. Speaking of Beckie, the short haired Amazon may have had strict orders not to go near Kaleb, but she still leered at him from the living room at a distance, sneaking peeks at him as he ate. He was mid-chew into a strawberry when the front door opened. Daylight cascaded through the living room, making the whole house feel that much brighter. His terrible weekend had been so overwhelming that he’d almost forgotten the outside world even existed; suffering from Maturosis does that to a guy. Debbie made her presence known with a screeching loud, “We’re home!” All eyes shot to the door as his stepmom carried in an armload of giant plastic shopping bags. His stepmother rustled with every step as she struggled to get them all to the counter. There were so many, and they were so full, they were all from a popular Little’s and Betweener’s outlet. He took a deep breath — this was going to take some getting used to. “You should have seen all the sweetest things that were on sale,” Debbie said to no one in particular. “I’m just loving my new role as a mommy. It’s been what I’ve been missing, honestly. I feel so alive. I love shopping for cute things — for my cute things.” Yep. Stepmom was still spongy strange. He should’ve figured by her motherly outfit. Debbie wore a dark navy dress with a low bust and flowing skirt that swished when she walked. A broad white hat covered her blonde hair and thick oval sunglasses covered her eyes. His stepmother appeared happier than he’d ever seen her, a toothy grin as she greeted everyone, a smile almost as bright as the real world outside. Debbie hustled over to his stepsister and greeted her with a kiss to the cheek. “Thanks for holding down the fort while I took care of some business. You’ll never guess what happened… No. Wait. I don’t want to ruin the surprise, so I’ll shut my trap.” Layla looked over the bags that sat on the kitchen counter with a regretful look, this was totally not a part of her intricate plans. His stepmom was too busy reading the room to notice Layla’s forlorn expression. Debbie glanced about the house. “Why is it so dark in here?” Layla sighed. “You’re still wearing your sunglasses, mom.” “Oh, yeah.” Debbie giggled like she was a teenager. “That did the trick. Hi there, Beckie. I didn’t see you moping around in the dark.” “Hi… Debbie.” Beckie softly smiled back. The short haired cheerleader kept looking to the door for the return of their friend, but Charlotte was nowhere to be found. She didn’t appear to be sweating as much, he guessed that the hot flash was over. The research notes were corralled around Beckie on the couch, same with the open laptop, and various devices tasked with tabulating the data from his wave readers. His stepmom wandered the adjoining living room now, Kaleb could tell that she was looking for him; he desperately wanted to go unseen, but he was kinda strapped to a booster seat at the moment. “I see Layla… I see Beckie… but I don’t see my sweet little Kaleb. Tell me he was a good little boy while I was gone. Or was he naughty? Does he need a spanking?” Layla assured her, “He was fine, mom.” “Where is he hiding, then?” Debbie searched the living room area around the playmat. “I want to see my baby boy.” Layla pointed his direction like her mom forgot the location of her own dining table. “He’s at the table,” said Layla, “eating lunch.” Kaleb shrank in his chair as Debbie made eye-contact. He could actually see her face light up from the sight of him in his diaper. Yuck. He hated sponges. “There he is!” His stepmom shuffle-stepped her way to him with arms spread wide like mandibles. “Our special boy. Oh, look at that cute diaper! I love, love, love those little teddy bears. What happened to his pull-up, did he have an accident?” Kaleb gritted his teeth. “No.” “Actually, he did have a small ‘oopsie’,” Layla corrected her stepbrother as she came into the kitchen. “He absolutely soaked his pull-up before his bath time. Even after we asked him if he needed to potty, but you know Kay-Kay, as stubborn as he is cute.” “Don’t worry about it, dear, it was just a matter of time,” Debbie said as she further evaluated the change in his wardrobe. “When did you check him last? He might be a little wet from another accident. I don’t want him to have a soggy bottom and clammy thighs.” Layla grinned at Kaleb. “Knock yourself out, mom.” Not worth the hassle of a fight, Kaleb spread his thighs to give her access. Another cracker went into his mouth, followed by a good sip of milk. Lunch was a good thing. There was less pomp and ceremony than usual to her diaper check. It was no longer a ‘pants check’ since he was no longer wearing pants. His stepmother shot a hand to his crotch and gave the thick padding a firm squeeze. Then she sniffed the air around him as he squirmed in his booster seat. “He smells like a clean baby to me,” Debbie said as she stroked his cheek. “And he looks so happy this way.” Kaleb rearranged his face into a deeper scowl, giving his furrowing brow a bit of a cramp from over exertion. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if his stepmom was just stupid, or just lying. He smashed a cracker into his mouth in retaliation, chewing loudly and sending crumbs everywhere. “Hey, mom,” Layla said tentatively. “Did you find Callie?” “No, we didn’t.” Debbie cradled Kaleb by the back of his head, her touch felt so soothing that he didn’t protest. “Charlotte and I stopped by Little procurement and alerted the proper authorities. Naughty Callie won’t get too far. But you know what they say, a baby in a bassinet is worth two Littles still trying to ‘adult’.” “No one says that, mom.” Layla wasn’t having a good time with her wacko mother.“Where’s Charlotte? Did you drop her off at her place or something?” “They’ll be here in a second,” explained Debbie. “Let me show you what we picked up at the store.” Wait a sec. They? Who’s they? Kaleb shot a look to Layla, who returned one with equally wide-eyed bewilderment. A lot was happening at once, and he had a front row seat to everything — and snacks, too. However, one thing was clear, ‘they’ was definitely not a good thing, and ‘they’ wasn’t a Layla thing either. Whoever ‘they’ were, ‘they’ had stopped at a Little supply store. Kaleb turned his head and glanced over to the bags. He spotted a three pack of “Quiet Time” pacifiers, a four pack of heavy bib/burp cloths, and a weird looking Zebra themed rattle thing. And that was just one bag, there were at least a dozen in the kitchen, maybe even more in the car. Where did his mom get the money to buy all of these things? His family was never the type to have money, even if his father worked all of the time. More mysteries. Kaleb anxiously shoved another cracker in his mouth to combat the suspense. “Mom?” Layla approached Debbie as his stepmom organized the plastic bags into random piles on the countertop. Debbie didn’t look up from the bags. “What, honey?” Layla asked, “Who is with you?” “That’s the surprise,” Debbie delivered with a creepy smile. “And I don’t want to spoil the surprise for my sweet Princess Lay-Lay.” “Mom! You can’t call me that!” Layla took a step away from her mother, as if Debbie revealed a weapon from her navy dress. “You haven’t called me Lay-Lay since I was a kid!” Now, this was certainly a revelation, a new curveball in this story. He’s never heard the name ‘Lay-Lay’ in his life. The mentioning of his stepsister’s pet name was such a shock to the system that Kaleb stopped chewing on a strawberry. All of it was tasty, the fruit and his stepsister’s state of panic. “I know, I know,” Debbie gushed as she pulled out a series of very big bottles from the shopping bag. “You were just so cute with your princess dresses and all of that fake plastic show jewelry. You used to sing and dance and play pretend — all in your diapers. Just like you’re doing now, my sweet scientist. Without the diapers, of course.” Layla grabbed her mom’s arm, shaking the crazy lady out of her whimsical daydream. The older Amazon put the bags down to give her daughter her full attention. Diaper talk was a ‘no, no’ in Amazon land. Debbie asked, “What’s gotten into you, honey?” “No, mom,” exclaimed Layla. “What’s gotten into you? You’re going mothering crazy, have you been taking your pills?” Debbie guffawed. “I haven’t been taking those in years, honey. This is ‘au naturale’. I feel so young again, like in my thirties. Thanks for letting me help with your experiment. I loved the shopping, looking at diapers and cute clothes again. It’s all been so fun, like throwing my own baby shower for my babies.” Layla grimaced as if mom’s words made her skin crawl. “Babies?” questioned his stepsister. “What babies?” Her mother didn’t get a chance to answer because another Amazon was at the door, casting a massive shadow into the house. The shadowed woman was tall and thin, her features sharp and her demeanor exquisite and professional. She was middle aged but not old, and she relished in her experience. Her brown hair was tied into a tight bun, she wore small oval glasses that perched precariously on her nose, and she was dressed in a blue blouse, black pants, and a white lab coat. “Hello, everyone,” the woman announced from the doorway. “We had a special someone who didn’t want to get out of the car, but I said, ‘if you don’t get out of the car this instant, no one will change your diaper’. That seemed to do the trick, withholding changes always does. Look who’s here to see you, Charlotte.” Kaleb twisted in his booster seat, cursing the fact he faced away from the door. He turned his upper body, spinning his head around almost like an owl. This was starting to get very interesting, from his perspective. From his stepsister’s POV, it was starting to get horrifying as her friend Charlotte was practically pushed into the living room by the larger woman. The visit to the Empathy Center certainly did a number on her wardrobe. Charlotte looked different. Very different. Her pitch black long and curly hair was done into a pair of pigtails perfectly tied by yellow ribbons. Charlotte was dressed in a canary colored party dress that offset her dark complexion, its short skirt revealing a thick white disposable diaper. Her face was set to horrified; mostly in the catatonic eyes, they’d seen things she didn’t understand just this morning. The zombie-like, Little-dressed Amazon didn’t have to tell him what had happened, she didn’t even have to explain anything to her friends. Everyone knew. Plus, she couldn’t exactly tell them in the first place, since her mouth was plugged by a patented adjustable sized “Quiet Time” pacifier that had the letters QT on the white shield. As the center of attention, Charlotte stumbled into the living room, trying to hide her face and her diaper at the same time, resulting in something of a manic dance of shame. No one uttered a word. Not the teens. Not the older women. Not Kaleb. Charlotte sulked in silence as the room ate her alive. This was the first time that Kaleb had ever seen a Big get the Little treatment. The huge diapers, the infantile dress, the disgraced look on her face as she had to wear it all in front of her friends. Charlotte backed away from the faces she knew, away from Layla in the kitchen, away from Debbie at the counter, spinning away from Beckie on the couch. The ‘babified’ Amazon was hiding something, and Kaleb knew exactly what, she was hiding a full diaper. As she spun like a top, Charlotte came closer and closer to Beckie; until she tripped and fell over, and her short skirt flipped up, revealing a discolored diaper for all to see. Beckie wrinkled her nose. “Uggh.. Charlotte?” “Somebody has a stinky diaper.” The new Amazon flowed into the living room, lab coat billowing behind her every step. “It’s okay to tell her so. In fact, I’m halfway surprised you didn’t notice before she got so close.” “I’m sorry,” Beckie looked up at the woman. “But who the heck are you?” The Amazon in the white lab coat picked Charlotte up by her elbows, propping up the younger girl into a standing position despite her squirmy protests. “My name is Dr. Mira,” said Dr. Mira. “I assume that you’re Beckie, because you’re just as clueless about mothering as Debbie described.” “Excuse me?” Beckie glared at the new addition to the house. “I don’t know where you get off on calling me clueless.” “You don’t know?” Dr. Mira mockingly tapped a finger to her cheek. “Maybe that’s why she called you ‘clueless’.” Beckie was about to put aside her laptop and give the Mira-lady a piece of her mind when Layla joined the conversation. “Wait a sec…” Layla stepped into the living room. “You’re Dr. Mira? THE Dr. Mira?” Beckie fanned her nose as Mira practically pushed Charlotte into her lap. Turns out, Beckie wasn’t so interested in changing her friend. Only Kaleb garnered that kind of attention from the cheerleader. “Who’s Dr. Mira?” Beckie asked the room, trying to keep away the oversized baby. From his forgotten spot at the table, Kaleb wondered the same. Another piece of fruit went to his mouth as his brain flipped to ‘sardonic’. He didn’t know who Dr. Mira was, but he didn’t care. What was one more clown to this circus? Dr. Mira waited for Layla to give her a proper introduction. The older Amazon stood at attention, almost if posing for a statue. Everyone was watching, and Dr. Mira soaked in the attention like a sponge. She was the living embodiment of the potential energy. “Those in the business call her the ‘Little Whisperer’,” Layla started into her spiel, one that was two parts admiration and one part adoration. “She’s one of the premier scientists in Matters of Maturosis, like a rockstar in the field. Dr. Mira had a hand in coming up with majority of the terminology, and she wrote almost all of the methodology. This is the most famous Little studies scientist in the world, and she’s in my living room.” Beckie glared at Dr. Mira, then cast her eyes over to Charlotte who sulked at the opposite end of the couch. Her heart went out to her friend in a diaper, not to the Little studies scientist that probably made it happen. Kaleb could easily guess that she wasn’t the biggest fan of their new guest. Very much unlike Layla. “Most of all…” Layla smiled as she saved the best for last. “She’s the author of our textbook.”

Part Fifteen Margot came to the same conclusion. “We’re going to have to take off your costume to get to the pull-ups, Cassie,” she said. The way she said it made it clear that she didn’t know the extent of the issue–in Margot’s eyes, it was simply a matter of Cassidy taking off the leotard so the babyish underwear could be accessed. Since Audrey had informed her sister about the stitching that had been done, however, Cassidy knew it wouldn’t be quite that easy. Similar to the way she fessed up about being wet, she knew the only way forward was honesty. Anything less than that, and things would be more complicated and uncomfortable. Plus, Margot was a stranger. Cassidy would never see her again. While the personal humiliation was there, there was no long term risk to laying things out as they were. “Umm,” she mumbled. She pulled her hand free of the other girl’s, and then blurted out, “They’re part of the costume. I mean, the underwear . . . ” Cassidy definitely couldn’t bring herself to say ‘pull-ups’ herself, “ . . . My sister stitched them into the leotard.” “Oh! Hmm. Never seen that before,” Margot said. She paused to give a good look to Cassidy’s simple fairy costume. “Here, why don’t you get started with the skirt and the wings? I’ll be right back.” The moment Margot disappeared around the end of the changing screens, Cassidy let out a heavy sigh. How was this possibly happening to her? Somehow, over the last half hour, she had been reduced to an accident-prone tween who needed babysitting. Without her phone or wallet, Cassidy didn’t have the means to prove her real age to Margot or anyone else. This was the first real bit of alone time Cassidy had been given since she arrived at the faire with her sister, but she couldn’t even do anything with the solitude. Climbing over the nearby fence would be possible in a casual outfit, but with fairy wings, a tulle skirt, and bulky underwear? Maybe not. And what would be the point? Audrey had the car keys, and all of Cassidy’s other possessions as well. She groaned in frustration and annoyance. There really was no way out of the kids’ zone, or whatever cheesy fantasy name the large tent had. Cassidy hadn’t been paying attention on her way in. “Fucking bitch,” she muttered to herself, in regards to Audrey. Getting home meant waiting for her sister to check her out. And getting out of the sagging pull-ups meant letting Margot see her naked. Accepting her fate, Cassidy pulled down on the skirt first. It didn’t take much to get the stretchy waistband over the padding of the pull-ups, and gravity did the rest of the work. Kicking the girly pink tulle material off to the side, not really caring about potential grass stains, Cassidy got right to work on her wings. The last thing she needed was to not be done by the time Margot returned, as that would no doubt lead to more patronizing help. It was awkward enough when Audrey carelessly manhandled her that morning to get the wings on. Since Cassidy hadn’t been given the chance to figure them out the first time around, however, it took an awkwardly long time figuring out how to loosen and untangle the straps that were mostly designed to be adjusted around her upper back. After a minute or two of blind tugging and guesswork, she just barely managed to get the glittery wings off by the time Margot made it back. The dark haired girl didn’t seem to notice that it had taken the whole time she was gone for Cassidy to deal with the costume pieces. That, or she chose not to say anything about it. “Sorry that took so long, Cassie,” she said, “It took me a minute to track these down. Lucky you; someone had a pair we could borrow!” The sewing scissors in Margot’s hand were no doubt from one of the nearby artisans. No wonder the girl had taken so much time. “It’s fine,” Cassidy replied. As badly as she wanted to be out of the dirty underwear, the next part wasn’t going to be fun. Getting right to it, Margot instructed, “Okay, Cass. I’m going to need you to take the leotard halfway off so I can get you sorted out. Want to turn around, maybe?” Obviously, Cassidy wanted that. The last thing she needed was Margot seeing her boobs. Cassidy had never been particularly proud of her chest, especially after Audrey’s completely unfair growth spurt. Normally, it was fine. Cassidy would wear outfits that accentuated her smaller curves, or sometimes wear bras that gave an illusion of a slightly bigger chest through the cleavage created. Wearing the leotard without a bra had been bad enough. But her bare chest? As much as she hated to admit it, Cassidy was sure it would sell the tween image even more after the costume, bangs, and pull-ups. She pivoted 180 degrees and slipped her arms through the holes of the leotard after making triple sure that no one was even remotely in her field of vision outside the fence. Though no one was outside the faire in such a way, as the large canopy tent sat at the edge of the grounds, Cassidy was still paranoid about her potential exposure. She pulled the tight pink material down a few inches, then decided that was enough of her own efforts. “Okay,” Cassidy said. Cupping both of her small breasts with her hands, she glanced over her shoulder. Margot picked up on the nonverbal request. Since Cassidy’s hands were busy covering herself up, Margot stepped forward and pulled the leotard the rest of the way down the petite girl’s upper half. “Hold still for me, Cassie. Hopefully this will just take a minute.” Wincing at both the nickname and the summer air now brushing a lot more bare skin than it normally would, Cassidy did as she was told. ------------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And my Patreon: www.patreon.com/user?u=73056590

I wet the bed until I was in high school. Eventually got night trained. Recently decided to start wearing diapers to bed and plan to become a bed wetter again.

Chapter 34: Teetering I WATCHED AS Kelly thankfully moved to the back of the room. As others filed in, I couldn’t help but think a few of them looked at me like predators! Fortunately, I kept up a conversation with Will, and I had some hope for a few relatively normal people to be in class with. Even if those normal people were three times my height! Doctor Gibney eventually got our attention and began class, “Good morning, everyone! Welcome to Screenwriting I!” He smiled, and a holo-presentation started, “Here in the Emerson Film department, we pride ourselves in as hands-on of an experience as possible, so this will be a very practical-based course. Throughout this semester, you will have three projects you’ll be responsible for creating.” I saw a projection of three sets of words standing on a facsimile of old film reels. “Unlike most of your classes, we’ll begin with the longest project first.” I noticed some of the class make sounds at that, which he seemed prepared for based on his chuckle. “Because of how this class works, by Thursday, you need to have at least an outline of a script for a forty-two-minute pilot episode for a show.” There was a collective gasp in the room, “Yes, that is a significant length for the full script, but for an outline, we’re not going to need all forty-two-plus pages of the script yet. For the outline, I expect the overall plot to be visible, characters listed and described, and between twenty to forty shots and scenes storyboarded.” I felt my head pounding at the storyboarding; that alone would take way too much time! “Now, the reason for this rush on this project is the third Thursday of class; you must have this turned in via the online submission portal. That weekend the Cinematic Narratives class will begin selecting which scripts they would like to select to shoot for each of their groups. That class will be responsible for bringing your creations to life with support from our makeup and costume studio classes.” “This is going to be impossible,” someone behind me breathed. ‘This is going to be insane, but also really cool!’ I thought to myself as he went into more detail on the requirements for the project, as well as listed the information for the short film that was our second project and the thirty-second commercial that would be our final project. “Any questions on the projects?” He asked. I heard a familiar voice, “Any restriction on what we can write?” Kelly asked. “Nothing that would be illegal would be my request. From past experience, the scripts should avoid being too controversial if you wish for them to be selected to be filmed. Films should primarily feature college-age students or older for groups to think they’re attainable enough to choose them.” A few other questions passed, and I wondered what Kelly would want to write…? We had about eighty minutes left in class when he explained the projects. So he began going into terminology, style, and other information we should incorporate into our scripts. I knew most of the formatting and concepts from my studies back home, but it was good to hear his perspective and expectations. I also appreciated that he walked us through some specialty software available, including figures and artwork easily manipulated into storyboard boxes. I breathed a sigh of relief when I realized that was something I wouldn’t have to hand sketch! All of that was crammed into the first ninety minutes. As we were nearing the end of class, I definitely began feeling like a potty break was needed as soon as class ended! It wasn’t bad enough. I wasn’t worried about wetting my pants yet, but I suspected that state was closer than I would like! BETH LOOKED OVER the syllabus for Signals and Systems and couldn’t help but note this was yet another math course! It was Fourier and Laplace analysis items, z-transformations, and more. It seemed she would never get away from Calculus and other advanced math equations this semester. Given that the other students in the room probably felt the same, she figured she’d get through it. ‘At least I have that filmmaking class this afternoon; it should be fun!’ she thought as she stood from the room and walked out. Reila walked beside her, “That class is going to suck,” she said. There was a squeak then as Beth looked ahead and was surprised as she turned to see Reila suspended in the air by an extra tall Big girl. The girl was probably her mother’s height and had Reila easily in her grasp, with the skirt of her dress flying up into the air to show off her dark blue panties. “Little girl, you do not cuss!” the girl admonished her. “Please put my friend down; she’s not a Little,” Beth told her calmly, seeing that the girl most definitely wanted to spank Reila. “She might as well be!” the girl countered. “She’s not, though, and if you proceed to assault her like I think you’re about to do, I’ll be forced to make a complaint to the police. If you don’t put her down, I’ll call them in five seconds.” Beth did not like getting into it with Bigs but couldn’t let a friend get beaten. The girl stared her down as Beth reached for her phone and started to dial. “Fine!” The girl said, roughly pushing Reila to the floor and walking away. “What the hell is wrong with that girl?” I heard another Tweener ask from the side of a doorway they appeared to have hidden in. “Time of the month?” Beth suggested. “Hope she doesn’t come across any Littles; we could still report her if you want, Reila?” She looked again at Reila and realized she was crying and encircled her in a hug, “It’s okay, Reila,” she told her sobbing friend. “I’m so tired of this crap!” She complained a few moments later as she sniffled and got herself back together. “I know,” Beth told her. “Let’s head to the restroom and give you a chance to get your face back together.” Reila nodded, and the two of them found a nearby restroom that was thankfully empty apart from them. Beth stood guard over the door as Reila went into a stall, “Oh no!” Beth heard her cry from the stall. “What’s wrong?” “No!” Reila quietly hissed. Beth put the pieces together, “Do you need a new pair of panties?” “This isn’t fair!” Reila complained. “No, it’s not, but I have a spare pair in my bag if you need them?” “Really?” she said. “Really,” Beth said. Reila came out, and Beth was grateful her friend had worn a skirt that day, so after a quick change of panties, she was fine. “What should I do with these?” Reila asked, embarrassed. “Throw them,” Beth advised, “Last thing you want is to have them in your bag if someone checks!” Reila nodded and redid her makeup quickly before asking, “What are you doing now?” “Heading to lunch; you want to join me?” Beth said. “Please…” I LEFT CLASS as quickly as possible and had to dodge a few giants to make my way out of the room. I had gone from needing to go to desperately needing to go pee in the span of five minutes! I hadn’t felt this close to peeing my pants since I was a kid out at a camp playing capture the flag and not wanting to waste time going to the bathroom. That day I had wet my pants, and I worried that would be my fate this day as well! Each step seemed harder to control my bladder, and I was beginning to wonder if I would make it just as the door to the bathroom was suddenly in front of me. That’s when my feet suddenly left the ground! “Where are you going in such a hurry, Little boy?” I heard as my body was manipulated onto the hip of the last giant I wanted to see. “The bathroom,” I said. “Well, let’s see if you’re even still dry now!” Kelly smirked. “You looked like you were doing the potty dance pretty well during class!” With one hand, she ripped apart the snaps on the pants I was wearing all the way down to my ankles showing off my blue Pull-Up, which still had its fade when wet designs showing at least. “What cute whittle baby panties you’re wearing!” She cooed at me. “If you wet them, I can put you into a nice dry diapee instead!” I saw her hand begin to go towards tickling me when I heard a clearing of a voice, “Um-hmm!” I looked over and saw Doctor Gibney. “Umm… Hi, Professor,” she said. “Hi,” he said. “Now I need to go to the restroom, and I think that’s where this young man was on his way to before you tried to interrupt him. Why don’t you put him down, and as long as he doesn’t have an accident, I won’t make you have one when you fail my class?” I was gently sat down, even as I was barely holding it still. It was physically painful to hold it in as I managed to shove past Kelly, open the door, and look at the too-tall urinal. I pulled down my unsnapped pants and Pull-Up, but before I could contemplate my step-stool, a strong pair of hands lifted me in the air high enough to reach just as my bladder burst open. I sighed in relief, even as I wondered who was holding me up like a toddler to the potty. When the stream finally ran out, I heard, “All good?” I was sat on my feet and pulled my Pull-Up back up to avoid being naked in front of Professor Gibney. I blushed solid red, “Yes, thanks for the help.” “No problem; you need a hand with all those snaps?” He asked me. I blushed but shrugged, “I guess? You don’t have to, though?” “Nonsense,” he said, picking me up and setting me down on the bathroom’s diaper change station. “Even managed to keep your Pull-Up dry through that little witch’s stunt; good for you!” I sat still as he closed the many snaps that Kelly had ripped open to get to my Pull-Up. When he was done, he carried me over to the sink and held me there to wash my hands. “Thank you, Professor,” I told him. “It’s no problem. One of my grandsons never reached past the Little height mark, and I despise anyone who picks on you all like they did him.” “Well, thanks…” I awkwardly said, “I’ll see you in class Thursday.” “See you Thursday,” he agreed and walked towards the urinals for his needs as I opened the door to walk out. ‘That was a close one,’ I couldn’t help but shudder as I walked towards the dining hall for lunch. With only a couple hours until the dreaded Little Seminar began, I decided to eat in a corner and hope to get some studying done. I found a booth that was one of the mixed ones. With the aid of the booster from my bag, I could easily reach the hamburger and fries plate I had, and my computer and I began scratching together some ideas for this screenplay I had to write. ‘All of this in two days?!?!?’ I worried. I sketched out an idea using some of the stories Grandma had told me from the weekend about an autonomous project she’d been involved with, starting the Mars colonies that were now a small thriving city in this dimension. Tessa had been tweaked for several years to prepare her for the project. Grandma’s advancements with nanites and AI had allowed nearly single-handedly her part of the project to build the facilities for that colony before a single human had to be involved. I decided that could be a fun beginning of a plot line but going to Io instead. The crew arrives to discover the AI holograms have taken on a true life of their own and have no clue what to do with the humans. It was sort of a horror and comedy sci-fi twist, and I thought it would work well in my head, at least. I had finished the last of my fries and was creating a timeline and my fifteenth scene when I realized someone was sitting across from me. I looked up to see it was Mackenzie. “Umm, hi,” I said. “Have you been there long?” She laughed, “Like five minutes? Do you always get so lost in your work?” I shrugged, “When I like what I’m doing?” “What are you working on?” “Homework for Screenwriting, our professor gave us an impossible assignment to have completed by Thursday. Hoping I can get most of it done today, though.” I looked at her, “Honestly, the early lights out time will put a crimp in getting everything done as easily.” She nodded, “I’ve heard that complaint. The other side of it, though, is that if you have more rest, you can be more effective and work faster and more accurately?” I shrugged, “I guess. Did you need something?” “Actually, I needed two things. One, I received an email from your Screenwriting professor informing me that you had been the victim of an attempt at bullying. He said a girl, Kelly Danvers, attempted to prevent you from going to the bathroom?” I blushed, “That’s what it seemed like, I guess…” She nodded, “He was certain of it, so he’s put in a complaint to Dean Northrup. She’ll be warned by the university, but I have been told to make sure you notify us of any further issues from her. She’s already been on the radar because of her friend over there,” she tilted her head towards the Amazon ‘Little’ sitting in an overgrown highchair. I noted the pink bib she was wearing seemed to be covered in baby food that her nest mother was spooning into her mouth and intentionally missing. “Okay,” I said, nodding. “The other thing?” “I have permission to keep you out late for my night off tomorrow night. There’s an event at the Union for a spicy eating contest?” “And you want me to hustle a bunch of Bigs?” I smirked. “Maybe…?” “What do you get out of it?” “Time with you, and I’ll make some bets on the side?” “My end of this?” “Swimming each day not enough?” I nodded, “True, okay, deal!” “You really can eat spicy food, right?” She asked. I laughed, “Yeah, I’ll be fine, I’m guessing.” “Well, I’ll let you get back to studying then. See you after your classes.” I watched her leave and looked at my watch. I only had a half-hour before the seminar, so I hopped down, put my booster away, and hit the restroom before finding my way to Destiny Hall. ‘I wonder if the propaganda is the same as when Mom was here?” BETH HAD WALKED with Reila to lunch at one of the other on-campus restaurants. She thought she needed something besides the dining hall and treated her friend to a soup and sandwich combo place Beth liked. “I’m so sick of being seen as a Little all the time,” Reila vented. “Do you get that often?” Beth nodded, “Sometimes… I mean, I’m taller than you, but I’m still the size of a first grader? My siblings are probably the worst about picking on me about my height, but at least they’re not doing it to be really mean.” “And they’re not likely to put you into a diaper?” “That shouldn’t happen to you either, Reila,” Beth assured her. “I’m afraid my luck will run out soon here. Yes, I’m bigger than a Little, but I would certainly fit into a preschool class without any problem. Then they can have their potty-training failure dummy to point at…?” Beth shuddered, “Just keep an eye out where you’re at… and don’t draw attention to yourself by swearing. That girl should have realized you didn’t have the Little’s uniform on!” “I think it might actually make it harder to be adopted if I was a Little,” Reila said. “Huh?” Beth asked, truly perplexed. “How in the world would it be harder?” “Have you noticed all of the law reforms that have been passed all specifically tailor themselves to Littles? I think we have fewer protections at this point!” Beth had never really considered that. “But we still don’t have the auto-adoption laws in place for Littles?” she countered. “Mark my words; in the next few years, I bet we see just as many Tweeners being adopted.” “I hope you’re wrong,” Beth said morosely. “Me too,” Reila said as she finished the last of her food. “Thanks for lunch, Beth… and for helping me; you didn’t have to? That was risky to help me!” Beth laughed, “I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror if I had walked away. We just both have to hope we can avoid any more attention! This semester has already been way too much excitement for my taste!” “You heading back to the dorm by chance?” “Yeah, for a little bit to work on homework before my next class.” “What’s next for you?” “Cinematic Narratives – it’s like my only fun class for the semester.” “Cool!” Reila said as they walked back together, “Thanks for lunch.” +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please press the 'Like' button and consider leaving a comment!!! I really appreciate all of you who do so regularly! Due to my traveling at the moment I'll be most likely be without internet to post next Friday. I will try and post late Sunday night my time next weekend if I'm awake enough! Thanks for your patience!

Holy thats amazing! I want them all

idk what would be more embarrassing, a big bulky Pampers bulge or someones lil something poking right through, standing at attention playing around the pool!

This one is really cute 😍 This sailor swimsuit is also cute 😍 I have a short sailor dress in white and blue which is perfect to wear here in the summer

Without knowing or waking up and finishing I pee my nite diaper at least every other nite, I didn't use to . But since I am 24/7 I am more at ease, so my mind must be relaxing again like when I was a young kid.

They look nice, but it's only footed Pj's for me.

I wish we had an abdl daycare where we can all go and hang out and play in our diapers with other abdls.

My first time wearing girls undies came when I was going thru puberty and lived at home. One day I was home alone and had just noticed a few days ago how my sister was starting puberty and getting boobs so I decided to sneak into her room and find some of her panties and bras and check them out. I found a pair of her underwear in the dirty clothes basket and took it along with one of her bras back to my room and put them on and liked how they felt. It wasn’t till a year or so later I was home alone again and decided to go to her room and take another pair of her dirty undies and bra only this time I didn’t plan on bringing them back. I eventually ended up taking one of her skirts too and wearing it. I have even gone as far as wearing one of her bras and stuffing it with socks to make it feel like I have boobs. Even now I will occasionally put on a pair of my girlfriends undies when I am home alone.

By the time she was done getting her diaper changed, Evelyn came to me and led me to the Kitchen table. "Time for homework!" Evelyn said. "I don't have any yet, no classes yet, they start tomorrow." "Great then you can help me!" We were sitting at the table, "Can I ask you a question?" Asked Evelyn. "Sure ask away." I said. "Your in a disposable, did you wet your bed last night or what?" She asked? "Um, yeah kind of, why?" I asked? "Kind of, what do you mean you kind of wet your bed?" Evelyn asked? "Okay, okay I wet my bed, I didn't wake up and pee, I just slept through it, I woke up wet this morning." "Join the club, I wake up wet every morning, I never know when I wet, it's been happening for only the past, she looked at her watch and smiled, 14 years or so!" "If you have to wear disposables, how can you fill up that garbage can so fast?" I asked? "Oh those they aren't all mine, some are mom's some are dad's." "What Aunt Kathy and Uncle John Wear diapers?" I asked. "Yeah they do, didn't you know, how do you think I ended up bedwetting? I come by it honestly, I got it from both parents!" "Did John Jr. wet his bed as well?" "No he didn't, it's a wonder, with our parents he could have. But he had enough problems with his lungs, that wasn't a family problem until him, but bedwetting that's a family tradition, mom's mom and her mother then down to me. Dad and his mother down to me again. I had no chances to be dry. Didn't your mom tell you she knew my mom when she wet her bed?" "No she never mentioned it." I said. "How do you feel about having a girlfriend that still wets her bed?" "You're still the same girl I've liked for about ever! You just don't sleep dry as I thought you did! But look at me I'm just as wet as you are these days!" I said. "I'm so glad your becoming as wet as I am these days." Said Evelyn.

That night Aunt Kathy came and got me. Evelyn and I were diapered for bed. Aunt Kathy gave us each a bottle, a baby bottle. "Don't we even garner a sippy cup tonight, Aunt Kathy?" "It's easier this way is all." Said Aunt Kathy. When I was getting into bed, Aunt Kathy came and said "When John Jr. was alive he swore by the oxygen from here. She put the mask on me and turned the machine on, it whined and then the light turned yellow, and a second or two later the light was green. Aunt Kathy left the room. The noise and the light off the machine was making it difficult to sleep, Aunt Kathy had put a thing that was supposed to keep my nose moist. Soon I was asleep, I was in a hot tub it was nice and warm, I had to pee and in the water I could see the water change a bit of yellow. But I felt relieved. Next morning at 6:45am Aunt Kathy woke me up, time to get ready for your first day of school. I got up and was eating at the table, Evelyn was there she had a nightgown on. It was riding up I could see her butt encased in a diaper, I could see the yellowing of her diaper. I was getting excited about that! I got the hall bathroom to shower and shave, I was dressed and was about ready to leave for school. "Willy did you wet your bed or just couldn't hold it any longer?" Asked Aunt Kathy? "I actually wet my bed last night Aunt Kathy, I didn't wake up to pee. Sorry!" "Lay down then, when Evelyn wets her bed she has to wear disposables the next day." My pants were taken down and a disposable was put in place. Aunt Kathy gave me the Ford Fusion and I got to drive Evelyn to school, then I drove myself to school. Here I was a Freshman in college and here I was diapered, because I had wet my bed the nilght before. I got the classes I wanted, I went to the bookstore and bought my books, one was over $200 dollars. I was home before 12:30pm. Aunt Kathy asked me, "Do you need your diaper changed yet?" "Not yet Aunt Kathy." I said. "Let me check." Said Aunt Kathy. My pants were pulled down and Aunt Kathy groped my crotch. I hated to admit it, Aunt Kathy had gotten more off of me than Evelyn had, I wanted Evelyn to feel more than Aunt Kathy! At 2:45 Aunt Kathy had me go pick up Evelyn. She was glad to see me. She said can we hurry home I'm about ready to leak my diaper. We got home and Evelyn ran to her mom for a diaper change.

Church was kind of a bore, the Pastor here kind of sucked. The Pastor back home had me on the edge of my seat, I hung on his every word! Talk about monotone! Well I guess they can't all be Pastor Hanks. We went for lunch at the $100 a plate restaurant. Even I had to admit I was impressed. On Sunday they had a Brunch that was out of this world! They had your normal bacon, eggs, then there was seafood including Lobster and crab.! When I got home I think I weighed 10 pounds more than when I left Evelyn came and we talked, just talked, she sat on my bed and I sat at the desk. We talked about everything from my school to her school, her friends that I met at the theater. She told me that she wished that they hadn't showed up, we would have kissed a lot! She also said that little tweak that she had gave my diaper would of happened more than just the one time, she also expected me to do that to her! Her mom came looking for her and found me at one end of the room and her at the other, she saw nothing was going on and I couldn't tell if She was glad, or disappointed. She took Evelyn and they went out for a few minutes, they both came back and we all talked. I had given Aunt Kathy my seat. I sat on the floor cross-legged. Aunt Kathy's watch beeped and she told us "Dinner is ready." I let Evelyn wash her hands first. I came in and washed my hands, I was looking for a place to put my paper towel that I used to dry my hands. I found the trash can and when I pulled the lid off, I found a disposable diaper receptacle. "Wonder whose these are?" I asked myself? "Evelyn wears cloth diapers for her bedwetting, I haven't heard tabs being tore open when we get diapered together."

After the movie was over, it wasnt that great of a movie. It was no Casablanca! We had Heather and Yolanda with us. We ended up at an arcade. Unlike most kids my age I didnt grow up in front of an X-Box, Nintendo, or Wi. We had books and mom and dad and Aunt Kathy actually taught me to love to read. I wasn't Valedictorian of my class but I was in the top 3, my graduating class was over 600 kids, there were 596 kids worse off than I was. I did feel good I did better on my ACT's than the other 2 who were ahead of me. Playing Video games was not my best forte. I did pretty good on the shooting games, my dad had taught me to hunt and shoot. We took Heather and Yolanda home, before Evelyn and I headed there ourselves. Aunt Kathy asked 100 questions about what we did, while out. We told her about dinner, the movie, and the arcade. She even asked if I had kissed Evelyn, I did it in front of Aunt Kathy and thanked Evelyn for a wonderful date. We were stripped and unlocked out of our plastic pants. Evelyn was wet, I was still dry. Aunt Kathy rediapered us for the night and we were sent to bed. Evelyn gave me a bigger kiss, and a huge hug before she went to her room and I went to mine. Aunt Kathy brought me a sippy cup of warm milk. "That's about all we have left, I forgot to turn the dishwasher on!" She explained. I drank the sippy cup of milk down. It felt good in the the bottom of my stomach. I fell asleep I was dreaming, I had to pee and I woke up and I swear my bladder was about to burst! The clock said it was 2:43am. I was diapered and I cut loose, my bladder was feeling much better! I finished peeing and was back asleep before I noticed that the diaper was still absorbing what I had done. At 8:30 Aunt Kathy awoke me and changed me out of my wet diapers. I got a shower and we were taken to church, even in my family at home this was normal on Sunday for us. I got to sit next to Evelyn, everybody was wondering who I was? Several of the older people were surprised I was Rachel Feeny 's son. That I was here to start school

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

That evening at the dinner table. every time I looked up, Evelyn was staring at me. She would give me a smile when our eyes met. I would smile back. The time came, time to get our diapers on. I have and have not been dreading this all night. Aunt Kathy took Evelyn and I and she cleaned us, powdered us up, then diapered us. Evelyn was first. I stared up at the ceiling while Evelyn was diapered. When it was my turn, I looked and Evelyn had lifted her upper body up on an elbow. She was watching Aunt Kathy diaper me! Aunt Kathy and Uncle John left the livingroom and Evelyn cam and put a hand on my diapered front. Being a guy and not knowing if she was going to squeeze me there or not, I grabbed her wrist and removed her hand. "I can feel your man thing through your diaper!" Evelyn stated. "Evelyn please don't touch me there,I, I am over 18 and what you want will get me thrown in prison. You are only 17 years old!" I said. "I will be 18 in three months from today though!" She pleaded! I started thinking, yep three more months. "You can watch when mom diapers me, John Jr. used to." "No I can't, Aunt Kathy would cut my testicles off and poke my eyes out" Evelyn smiled and said "Yeah she would, wouldn't she! Willy just so you know I have always had a crush on you. I looked foreward to your visits here or ours to your place, they were always the best!" "Don't tell anyone but I have always had a huge crush on you, you were always the most beautiful girl I knew by far!" I told her! "You noticed me! With John Jr. being so sick, everybody seen him, I was an afterthought! You took me and I got to see you play football and play tag and other games John Jr. couldnt! The worst day of my life and the best was the day he died, does that make sense?" "Evelyn believe it or not it does, I understand it. On one hand you lost your brother the only one you had, on the other people started seeing you, mainly Aunt Kathy and Uncle John!" "That's it, that is exactly it! Thank You!" Aunt Kathy came back, "What are you two up to, as if I didnt know! Did he kiss you Evelyn?" She asked? I was shocked! "No mom, he is 18 and scared of repercussions with the law, and you." Evelyn said. "Me? Willy your mom and I we always thought you two would be perfect for each other!" "You did?" We both said. Neither one of had heard this theory before. "Go ahead kiss her!" Aunt Kathy said. At first I looked at Aunt Kathy like she had three heads. I took Evelyn and I kissed her. I kissed her for another 10 seconds. Aunt Kathy had said "That's enough, that's enough" about 3 times. We broke Evelyn had a huge smile on her face, "Wow, that was better than I imagined it would be!" Aunt Kathy said "I guess I will have to keep an eye on you two!" Evelyn went to her room and I went to mine. Evelyn now knows how I feel about her! I though. Aunt Kathy brought me a glass of warm milk. She waited for the glass I drank it down. 20 minutes later the milk did it's job I fell asleep. My dreams were of Evelyn and I getting married, it was heaven. I awoke needing to pee like crazy! I went to go to the toilet, dammit I was wearing a diaper, a cloth diaper. Even if I could get it off I could never get it back on again. I looked at the clock 5:43, breakfast was almost an two hours and half away at 8:30am. No way I can last that that long! I remembered how disappointed Aunt Kathy was that I was dry yesterday. I started trying to wet the diaper, my toilet training was strong, my bladder wouldn't let a drop out. I wasn't peeing in a toilet. I got an Idea I went and stood in front of the toilet, I was good until I felt the warmness of my urine spreading inside my diaper. My brain said "Hey wait a minute it's not supposed to feel like this!" My bladder shut down again! "I began to say it's okay I'm wetting my bed!" My brain said "Is that all?" My flow started again. I was done and my brain said., "Hey wait a minute, were not a bedwetter!" If I hadn't of been done, I knew that a single drop wouldnt get out now! I went back to bed my penis was encased in a nice warm, but damp cocoon. That was my last thought before when my alarm went off and I got up to eat breakfast. Aunt Kathy checked me and found me wet, I had to pee about 5:45am. She looked pleased and disappointed at the same time. After breakfast Evelyn and I were released from our diapers. With it being Saturday we cleaned the house top to bottom. Evelyn and I had a few more opportunities to steal a few kisses.

Wearing diapers again was like uncomfortable. I haven't wore them I thought since I was 3 years old, 15 years give or take a few months. The weirdest thing was at about 4 years old I found my diapers I had been out of for over a year. I figured out how to put them on and wore them, I guessed I missed them. Here it was 14 years after that and I was to macho to be wearing a diaper! But I still had the hots for Evelyn, I would walk through glass to get her. If wearing a diaper is all I have to do, sign me up! I thought you dummy you already are signed up! I smiled at my self. Evelyn I thought, how would it be to be still wetting your bed at going on 18 years old? I mean I thought most people stopped wetting their beds in their teens. I used my phone and looked up Adult bedwetting. Oh my gosh, I never knew that some kids, then teens, never grew out of bedwetting. I just thought everybody outgrew it by about 15 years old. But about 2-15% never stop wetting their beds. Willy fell asleep and was awoke by Kathy. Willy came down and Kathy checked his diaper. "You're dry!" She said sounding almost disappointed. I saw the disappointment and I thought I will try harder tonight! Tonight? I am not a bedwetter, never have been one. Why would I start? I think. Because of the look that Kathy and Evelyn gave me, that's why! But I don't want to be a bed wetter do I? When I found my diapers and baby bottles, I wet them! I missed being a baby. Here I am diapered, and I didn't wet them. Probably because I'm 18 not 4 now.

This is the final chapter of Bottoms Up. I wanted to thank everyone who has read, liked, and commented on it along the way. Fifteen: Grown-Ups Two things had happened. First: Grace had gone before CALM during their next weekly meeting, and had given an impassioned speech about trusting the adults of this city to do the right things with their personal lives. If someone wanted to buy diapers - and it didn’t harm anyone else - was there really a need to make a big deal about it? CALM could do greater things, she reminded them. Predatory banks. Shady car salesman. Telephone scammers. Businesses that actually forced their way into people’s lives and caused harm. A handful of members agreed with this. The rest still thought the diaper store was a boil on the ass of the devil. Grace stepped down as the chairwoman and as a member. And as she explained this to the rest of the group, she pissed in her diapers. She had been hoping to do more - but she hadn’t quite reached that level of comfort yet. Second: the remaining members of CALM, with their new spokesman - the loud and boorish Gregory Handscomb - took their argument to the city council, as scheduled. They pleaded their case - Gregory listing the potential concerns he saw with a store that catered to ‘our neighbors inflicted with the curse of infantilism.’ But there were no charts. No studies. No proof of such trauma or troubling behavior in the years since Bottoms Up had opened. It likely would’ve been quickly dismissed anyways, though councilman Hamish Bellenourt still made a point to call out the organization for wasting the council’s time. “We pride ourselves on not being the thought-police,” Bellencourt had said. “And until anyone can show me certifiable proof on how this business adversely affects our city, then I say that this business is a welcome part of our local economy.” There were rumblings within the group that Grace had gotten too close to the owner of the diaper store. He had charmed her, or at least paid her off. Not that it mattered. CALM would be shuttered soon after. -- “What is that?” Harper asked, walking into the kitchen, exhaling the last drag she had taken from the vape. “Dinner,” replied Syd with a grin. “Dinner? Like...you’re cooking?” “I’m growing,” they said. “Trying new things. Finding new and exciting ways to burn my arms with hot cooking oil.” Harper sniffed at the air. “I’m catching notes of...garlic, onions, tomato, basil, and...something I can’t quite put my finger on. It’s stronger - the strongest, really. I want to say it’s foul. Like...absolutely putrid?” “That’s not a very nice thing to say about my cooking,” Syd said with a smile. Harper got closer and kissed Syd on the cheek before orbiting behind them so she could pull open the back of their pants and look inside. Diapers hadn’t been an everyday occurrence between the two. Usually once a week one of two things would happen: Syd would find a diaper waiting for her on the bed after a morning shower; or half a day would pass before Harper realized Syd had surprised her with a little extra bulk in her pants. “Ah, I see the problem,” she said. “You have something else cooking back here.” “I...was going to tell you about that.” “Oh yeah? When? Because I could smell your diaper before I could smell the pot on the stove.” “Who do you think you are?” they asked. “My mommy?” “I think that’s exactly who I am, and you know it.” She wrapped her hands around Syd, leaning in to kiss their neck before playfully swatting the odourous diaper in their pants. “Well I need to watch this pot and make sure it doesn’t burn,” Syd said with a shrug. “It’s not like I can leave it for a diaper change.” “You’re so difficult.” Syd shrugged again. “Fine, finish cooking. But I’m warning you right now, if you’re telling me that you don’t want a diaper change now, you don’t get to come ask me for one later. You’re staying in that stinky thing until I decide you need to be changed.” “Suit yourself,” Syd teased. “I’m sure you’ll want my bottom nice and clean for dinner.” “That’s where you’re wrong,” Harper shot back. “I think it would enhance the mood knowing that you were sitting across the table from me while sitting in your own filth.” “We have company coming over,” Syd said, stirring the deep red sauce vigorously. “That wouldn’t be very nice.” “Normally I’d agree. But this company? I’m sure they’d understand.” “You know, for someone you divorced, I still feel like we see an awful lot of Layne.” “Too much, you think?” “I’m kidding. Though…I definitely feel like you two are closer now than back when you were hitched.” “Life is funny like that,” Harper said, musing on that strange new reality herself. “Besides, the boy needs a Mommy. And Grace is no more a caregiver than he is.” “How do you think they even function when they’re together?” “I just imagine them rolling around on their backs sobbing because nobody’s there to change their diapers. But what do I know?” The house had been sold. The divorce was finalized. But the most extreme changes were the good ones. The friendly ones. The weekends they set aside so that Harper could dote on her favorite babies - all 3 of them. She was just as clueless as Syd was on how Layne and Grace’s dynamic worked, but she had come to terms with the fact that she didn’t have to care. She liked the smaller world she cared about now; the one where she and Syd lived together and were falling more in love everyday. -- “Excuse me, miss?” “Yes?” “I’m looking at these two and...I’m not sure which is better. Do you have any...recommendations?” Effie smiled. “Well, these ones here - The Ultrafluffs - they’re known for being quite absorbent. Quite possibly the most absorbent diaper on the market, as far as ones made for giant babies like yourself go.” The young man - barely out of his teens, with an ill-advised goatee and haircut combination - blushed a little at this remark but said nothing. “If thickness is your thing - or if you’re planning on wearing the same diaper all day - you really can’t go wrong with the Ultrafluff. But these other ones? They may just be my personal favorites.” “Really? W-why?” “The Buttercups are a little less absorbent. A little less thick. But, I mean, it’s still a diaper made for big babies. You’re going to feel that bulk. And you could easily fit a two-liter of Coke in there. Y’know - if you had to. Plus, there’s something about the design that I just really like. It’s cute and innocent and it just feels like...good memories.” “Good memories?” The young man scratched his head. “Or, I have good memories associated with them. Feel free to make your own memories.” “Can I, uhm, ask what your favorite memory of these diapers is?” “You cannot. I admire your boldness though. I’m sure that was hard for you to spit out.” “I’ll...take these,” he said defeatedly, flopping the thick pack of Ultrafluffs up on the counter. She wondered if she could’ve sold him on the Buttercups with a story about getting an enema. “These are probably the better choice for you anyways,” she said. “You look like a baby who wants to stew in his own juices for a while.” It wasn’t until after the young man paid for his purchase and left that Layne turned around. She was impressed that he hadn’t butt in once during that entire transaction. “That was good,” he said. “Though I can’t decide if it’s a perk or not to have my manager insulting the customers.” “He loved it,” Effie said, shrugging. “He’s going to go home and cream his diapers while thinking about me.” “You’re happy with that?” “We sold him some diapers, right? And he’ll be back.” “Fair enough. Oh, and, uh, memories? What memories do you have associated with Buttercups?” “I admire your boldness,” Effie said again with a smile. “But...I just made that up.” It had been months since she had first spent time with Margaret - back when she had ulterior motives and didn’t just want her bottom paddled - and she had yet to tell Layne what had happened. It had been a little bit of a relief to see that it had still mattered in some small way - she liked to think she had contributed to the dissolution of CALM - though time had proven that she cared less about that than she thought she did. She suspected that Layne had suspected something. Maybe he didn’t know exactly what she did, but it was as if he knew that she had helped in some way. He had been nicer to her following that night she threatened to quit. And then, just a month ago, he gave her a promotion to Associate Manager, along with the promise of a budget that would allow for her to hire someone herself - in addition to making a few changes around the store, as she saw fit. “Just a reminder that I won’t be in on Saturday,” she said. “Yeah, that’s right,” he said. “I can take over that day. What were you doing again?” “I just have an appointment.” That usually worked. He never cared for elaboration when the a-word was dropped for fear of stumbling into an awkward conversation about the nature of that appointment. “Right, right.” She made a mental list of the things she’d need to pick up before Saturday. She wanted a new pacifier. Maybe that new onesie with the flower print. Probably another pack of Buttercups too - you can never have too many. “Alright,” he said. “I’m heading out. I’ll be driving down to Morristown tomorrow, and I probably won’t be back in the store until Friday. If you need me, text me. Don’t burn down the store. Don’t let anyone poop in here either.” “Haven’t seen Hanson in months,” said Effie. “A shame too, because I would’ve loved to yell at him again. You know, as a manager.” He shrugged. “Maybe you did such a good job yelling the last time.” “So this Morristown thing is happening?” “We’ll see,” he said. “I like the location, and we’d be getting a pretty good deal on the lease there. I guess I just need to decide how much I want to operate two of these damn stores.” “Well you’re not alone,” she said. “I got your back, no matter what you choose.” “That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me. Hurry up and say something snarky, or else I’m going to think you’re getting too soft.” “Hurry up and get out of here, Baby-Man. And don’t forget a diaper when you go - it’s going to be a long drive.” “That’s the stuff,” he said with a calmed sigh. -- “I wish you were coming with me,” he said, kissing Grace’s lips. “I wish I was going with you too. But maybe it’s for the best that I’m not.” “You think?” “It’s getting cold out,” she said with a shrug. “So we’d have to keep the windows up. And can you imagine that drive with two full diapers sitting next to each other?” He laughed. “Well, it’s not like you’re doing nothing.” “I’m nervous,” she said. “Really? Why? You’re a great public speaker. I still remember that time I dropped by that CALM meeting and heard you speak. You almost convinced me to hate my own store.” She gave him a playful punch to the arm. “You don’t have to butter me up anymore. You’ve got me.” “I prefer you buttered,” he said. “It tastes better that way.” He kissed her lips again. “Well thank you for the morale boost.” Grace was back to volunteering and speaking about issues that mattered to her. Except her platform had changed a little - this would be the first meeting for AKAF, the Alliance for Kink-Aware Friends, a small group that hoped to advocate for fair treatment of alternate lifestyles. “You’re going to wear a diaper while you speak?” “Should I?” He shrugged. “I’m not saying you have to use it. But I bet it’d make you feel better. I thought I heard that once - the secret to public speaking is to have a secret that nobody else knows. It’s a power thing.” “Well that’s about as much power as a diaper gives you,” she mused. “But let’s talk about tonight.” “Oh right - dinner at Harper and Syd’s?” Layne nodded excitedly. “Never thought you’d be so happy to see them.” “Syd’s cooking, so I’m not as excited for that. But…” “You need some motherly love?” “Don’t you?” She nodded slowly, her cheeks becoming a little rosy. “Let’s pick out some diapers and get ready.” “And you’re going to change your pants too, right?” she asked. He looked down at his heather-grey sweatpants. He smiled and kissed her again. “One of these days,” she said, “one of us is going to have to learn how to grow up a little.” “Why the hell would we do that?” She didn’t have a good answer for that. -- The door opened, jingling the bell. Just one woman. Dark skinned with tight curls atop her head. She looked familiar. “Well, well well,” she said. “If it isn’t Baby-Man himself.” He stood up straight and ran a hand through his hair. He couldn’t believe his eyes. “Kiwi?” “Kiri,” she said with a smile. “You’re still a smartass, I see.” “We’ve tried everything,” he said. “Drugs, therapy, electro-shock. As it turns out, it can’t be cured.” “Every once in a while, I like to drive by your store,” she said. “I’ll peek in through the front window and see who’s there. It’s always the girl.” “Effie,” he said with a nod. “She’s a manager now.” “Does that mean you’re here even less now?” “That sounds judgmental.” “Good.” “What can I do for you today?” he asked. “I have a need for diapers.” “Well you’ve come to the right place. We have a few here.” “I see that.” “You know, Effie would’ve been happy to have sold you some diapers. You didn’t have to wait for me.” “I got it in my head, I think, that I had to get them from you,” she said, starting to meander through the store, looking at the shelves of diapers and infantile supplies. “Because of my amazing personality?” She laughed and shook her head. “There was something about you that I really liked. That night we met in the bar all those months ago? You told me these humiliating things about yourself in a way that felt so normal. I guess I really appreciated that boldness. It’s something I’ve strived for myself.” “I also might have been tipsy.” “It’s possible.” “Probable,” he said. “Anyways, it’s been a good thing that I haven’t seen you here. I’ve been working up the courage to tell my boyfriend I wanted to experience some fun with diapers. I’ve been dropping little hints here and there, but I don’t think he’s put it all together. And, I thought, for as long as I didn’t see you in this store, I didn’t actually have to buy diapers and show them to him.” “But here I am,” he said. “The day has come.” “Yeah,” she said, laughing to herself. “I guess so. Time to be a grown-up, buy some diapers, and then beg my boyfriend to participate.” “Do you want to try a diaper on?” he asked. She tilted her head a little. “I’m getting the mental image of a communal shared diaper that you let everyone try on.” “I’m sure there’s someone out there who’d like that very much. But, no, I just have a nursery in the back. More of a closet, really. But it’s got enough space for a curious woman to slip into some thick padding and get a feel for it.” “Is the room full of secret cameras?” “Ah damn,” he said. “You know something? I never thought of that.” “The diapers aren’t for me,” she said. “They’re for him.” “Oh?” She pointed to some diapers - the Carnivals. There was a hand-drawn sign next to them, courtesy of Effie, that proclaimed them to be ‘The Best-Sellers!’ “Is this true?” she asked, referring to the sign. “They’re my personal favorites,” he said. “The problem is,” she said, “it’s hard for me to pick out diapers without being able to imagine what they look like on him.” “I could give you a sample or two, if you want. Free of charge. Take them home and have a ball.” “That’s not a bad option,” she said. “Or…” “Or?” “Baby-Man, what do I have to do to get you into a diaper today?”

Chapter 6: Bad Dreams I dreamed a distorted conglomeration of the previous days’ events. In history class, Mr. Higgins again denied a student her God-given right to go to the bathroom. But instead of Lisa, this time it was me. Both hall passes were gone as I begged him continuously to leave. I wiggled constantly in my seat as I tried to calm my bladder, but he wouldn’t budge. “Just pee yourself,” he said. “Just pee yourself, pee yourself, pee yourself,” the class chanted back at me. Tears in my eyes, I hobbled toward the door with my knees clenched together. “Oh, come on, just pee yourself,” Lisa shouted after me. Samantha and Desi laughed as I fumbled to get the door open. My dreamed turned me back to my bedroom. Then the urge to pee struck harder, just like it had yesterday evening. I turned to leave my bedroom and get to the toilet, but Emilia was already in the bathroom. I knocked and knocked and she wouldn’t open the door. “Just pee yourself,” Emilia shouted at me through the door. You can just go in your pull-ups. “I’m fourteen. I don’t wear pull-ups.” But I looked down and my pajama shorts had been replaced with my sister’s pull-ups. They somehow fit. Minnie Mouse was grinning up at me. I swear she winked. I went back out to the hallway, but instead of my home I was again back at school in my cheerleading outfit. I was running through the school hallways, but I kept finding that each bathroom door was locked shut. The echoes of my classmates’ chants just wouldn’t stop. “Just pee yourself, pee yourself, pee yourself.” At last, I made it to the locker room, which, surprisingly enough, was unlocked. I raced to the toilets. Relief was in sight. Then the tiles beneath my feet turned into the hands of the girls on my cheerleading squad. Those hands gave way, and I was falling, falling, falling, falling. No end in sight. “Just pee yourself, pee yourself, pee yourself.” I continued falling. The urge to pee was no longer present. I landed awake in my bed. The nightmare over, I looked up groggily at my alarm clock – 6:37 a.m. – couldn’t I have gotten another seven minutes of sleep. I rubbed my eyes open. That was such a strange dream. I felt something heavy against my back. Oh great, Emilia was in bed with me. Mom isn’t going to be pleased. As I tried to move into a more comfortable position in which to spend my last few minutes asleep, I felt a wet and slightly warm sensation. Emilia’s diaper must have leaked all over me. Yuck. Now I had to do laundry as well before getting ready for school. May as well just get on with it. I pulled the cover and sheets back to reveal a much larger wet spot than I had expected to find. I examined the bed. There was no question as to what had just happened. The wet spot was directly beneath me and covered way more of the bed than a diaper leak could possibly have done. I gave Emilia’s bottom a quick pat. Yep, her diaper was still on. That meant only one thing. I had just wet the bed. I had actually wet the bed. What in the world? The urge to pee hadn’t just been a dream. Those dreams about needing to pee were the ones I had always had when I was younger. Back when I had been a bedwetter. How did this happen? I remembered last night. I had chosen not to go to the bathroom before getting into bed. I guess going over five years without any nighttime accidents had made me a bit careless. Well, I wouldn’t be making that mistake again. I gave Emilia a slight nudge. Still asleep, she didn’t stir at all. That gave me some time to figure out how to extricate myself from this predicament. What to do? What to do? I couldn’t dare let Mom find out. If she discovered that I’d wet the bed that would be the perfect excuse for her to forbid me from ever going on a sleepover ever again. Why hadn’t I just gone to the toilet last night like I normally did? I could have avoided all this trouble if I’d just done that. Whatever I did, I wanted to do it quickly. The sensation of the wet clothing sticking against my skin was becoming uncomfortable as it cooled. The fact that Emilia had snuck into bed was my saving grace. I could just tell Mom that Emilia’s diaper had leaked and that would be the end of it. Emilia’s nightgown had gotten wet enough on the outside that it would be a believable excuse. For me, at least. Mom wasn’t going to be happy with Emilia. I didn’t want Emilia to get in trouble, but in this case, it wasn’t going to be avoidable. Normally, if she had crawled into my bed when she had been told not to leave the crib, I might admonish her gently, but I would still put her back in the crib without telling Mom what happened. Of course, that’s what probably lead her to believe she could get away with it again tonight. I wondered what Mom would do when she found out. Probably a spanking. Hopefully, Mom wouldn’t be too hard on her. I gave Emilia a gentle shake until she at last opened her eyes. “Come on sis. We need to get you up. Your diaper leaked. You got me and the bed all wet.” I didn’t bother changing Emilia into a clean diaper and outfit yet. I needed to make sure Mom saw the evidence. “You know what Mom said about staying in your crib.” “But I had a scary dream. Mommy never stopped making me wear diapers.” I hugged Emilia as she began to cry. Potty training was getting on her nerves as much as it had been getting on mine. “Don’t worry. We’ll get you potty trained. But you’ve got to obey Mom as well. We’ll need to go tell her what you did.” “Please don’t tell. Please.” “But Emilia, your diaper leaked. How am I supposed to explain to Mom that my bed was all wet? I’m too old to do that anymore.” Well, until this morning I was, but Emilia didn’t need to know that. She started to walk toward the kitchen with a resigned look on her face. My little sister just couldn’t avoid getting herself in trouble. “Emilia, you know Mom’s rules. Babies don’t walk. They have to crawl.” Emilia got on the floor without protesting, but from her pouting face I could tell she was unhappy with me. Whatever. I’d just saved her from the additional punishment that she would have gotten had she gone walking into the kitchen out of line with Mom’s rules. “All I want for Christmas was...” It’s not even 7 a.m. yet, and that’s what Mom had playing on the speakers as she was cutting up grapefruit for breakfast. All I wanted was for Mom to forgot about Christmas. At least until November. At the sight of Emilia and her wet nightgown, Mom accepted my explanation for the wet bed without any questioning. I hurried to take the sheets to the washing machine before Mom had a chance to realize that the wet spot was far larger than what would have come from a leaky diaper. The morning shower felt better than normal. It felt so good to get clean. Even with the water rushing down on top of me in the shower, I could still make out Emilia’s crying as Mom administered a spanking. I felt bad for Emilia, but at least this would teach her to stay in her crib for a while. I was looking forward to the idea of having a few nights in bed to myself. --- The fact that I had to start my school day with my least favorite class sucked. AP Lit was a bore. The only redeeming factor was that Mrs. Whittleworth was incredibly easygoing and lenient. Not nearly as bad as the horror stories I’d heard about other teachers for advanced placement classes. If only the material were as easy. I sat in the front of the class with Desi and Samantha. We’d spent the whole bus ride to school planning out every detail of the coming sleepover. It was going to be awesome. I’d told them that nothing was set in stone yet, but they assured me that they would be flexible to host whenever Mom was OK with allowing me to come. I was hopeful that I’d have a decision by tonight. The urge to urinate began growing about halfway through the first period. Good grief. I’d only had a glass of orange juice and half a grapefruit for breakfast, nothing different from the usual. It’s OK, only twenty-five more minutes left. No reason I can’t make it that long. The clock at the front of the class moved at an agonizingly slow pace. Tick. Tick. Tick. This was Samantha’s favorite class, so of course she had to insist that we sit in the front row. If I left now to go to the bathroom, everyone would see me. So embarrassing. I wouldn’t have even considered the possibility of a daytime accident had it not been for what had happened yesterday evening, when I had wet myself in my room. I would have just continued to sit in my seat and hold it in, confident that my bladder of steel would hold out until the bell rung. But now there was doubt creeping in. Having experienced a moment where I had lost control, I couldn’t be completely sure it wouldn’t happen again. Wetting myself? In front of my friends and the class? That would be worse, so much worse than the awkwardness of leaving to go to the toilet for a few minutes. Twenty minutes till the class was over. Has it only been five minutes? That isn’t possible. I took a glance back at the hooks next to the door. Both hall passes were still hanging there. Mrs. Whittleworth continued to prattle on about “Crime and Punishment.” Couldn’t I just read for fun? Why did every single detail have to have meaning? Ugh, I bet everyone can see how I’m squirming trying to keep my bladder from exploding. I didn’t have a choice but to get up and go to the bathroom. An accident in school would be the end of me. Desi gave me a quizzical look as I stood up and walked by her desk. I fought the urge to run and walked at a steady pace toward the door. The girl’s hall pass was still there. Thank goodness. Lisa was sitting in her normal seat in the desk closest to the door. She had almost started to get out of her seat. Did she want the hall pass as well? Too bad. I couldn’t help but recall how my dream had interrupted what Mr. Higgins had said to her the other day. “Just pee yourself, just pee yourself, just pee yourself.” No. I’m fourteen. And I’m not going to pee my pants. I stepped out into the hallway and glanced both directions. No one was there. The coast was clear. I did a quiet semi-sprint down the hallway to the bathrooms. Getting up and running had only hastened the urge to go, as if my bladder knew the moment of relief was approaching quickly. The bathroom doors weren’t locked. I pulled down my pants and underwear and collapsed onto the toilet seat in a single motion. It turned out that I hadn’t given myself a moment to spare. A second later and I would have had a wet pair of pants that would be extremely difficult to explain. I didn’t hurry back to the classroom immediately. I mean, if I was going to go to the trouble of taking a hall pass to leave AP Lit, I may as well get the full eight minutes out of it. I was just about to pull the bathroom door open when someone on the other side pushed the door open hard and knocked me onto the floor. Ouch, my butt was still too sore for that. It was Lisa. Mrs. Whittleworth had let her out? Without a hall pass? “Sorry. Sorry,” Lisa said, stepping by me. Lisa hurried into an empty stall without so much as stopping to help me up. I guess when you gotta go, you gotta go.

Chapter 2: Guilty Conscience The downside to making Emilia pee herself was that I was the one stuck changing her wet pull-up. Mom hated changing diapers or pull-ups. So guess who’s gotten to do that a couple thousand times over the past several years? Yes, yours truly. In truth, I didn’t mind it too much. A wet pull-up isn’t that big of a deal to change, and, thankfully, going number two in the toilet was the one part of potty training that Emilia had nearly managed to master. Emilia cried all the way to the bedroom. She wanted to be a big girl so badly. During this latest attempt at potty training, her failure to learn how to properly use the toilet hasn’t been due to a lack of trying. She even managed to reach the big girl panties stage twice, only to be relegated back to pull-ups as the result of accidents. Our bedroom was barely big enough for one person, let alone two. The only furniture was my bed, her crib, a pair of dressers, and a tiny desk just big enough for my computer monitor. In our old house, we all had our separate rooms with enough space for changing tables and playpens. As I sifted through the drawer looking at Emilia’s collection of pull-ups and diapers, the one thing that struck me about her pull-ups was that they were so darn adorable with all the cute cartoon characters on them: Minnie Mouse, Elsa, Ariel, and every other Disney princess imaginable. My unpaid babysitter duties extended beyond just changing diapers and potty training. Having good manners was another rule Mom heavily enforced, and, again, the responsibility of teaching that to Emilia fell to me. “Please” and “thank-you” were the focus right now, but getting her to do either still required quite a bit of prompting. After grabbing a fresh pull-up from the drawer, I turned back around to face Emilia. “And what do you need to tell me now?” I asked. “I need my pull-up changed,” she whined. I sighed. Emilia really did know better. Even if she was only three. “And what do you say when you need your pull-up changed?” “Can you change my pull-up?” “Sis, you’re forgetting the magic word.” “Please,” she said finally. With that, I rolled out a changing mat onto my bed and plopped Emilia onto it. I was glad we were past her terrible twos when diaper changes had been an absolute nightmare. She laid on the bed complacently – I suppose it did feel good to be changed into a dry pull-up – lifting her legs up when I needed to wipe and not struggling even a little as I replaced her wet pull-up with a fresh one, this time with a picture of Ariel on the front. I placed the wet pull-up in the diaper bin and then made a mark on the potty-training calendar to note that she’d had an accident. I gave Emilia a hug as I set her back down on the floor. “And what do you say now?” I asked Emilia. “Thank-you.” “Thank-you for what?” “Thank-you for changing my pull-up.” You’re welcome, but you need to keep Ariel dry for the rest of today or it’s back to diapers, you understand?" Emilia nodded back at me solemnly. “I will. I will,” she said. --- Dinner, even if it was just meatball casserole, had its own sets of rules. All the silverware had to be in exactly the right place. No eating before we had a chance to bow our heads and say grace. No spilling any food. No talking with your mouth full. And, most importantly, you had to eat every last bite of food that Mom put on your plate. You weren’t leaving the table until you were completely done. I gingerly lowered myself into a chair at the dinner table. Of course, it had to be a wood chair. My butt hurt so much. I had no idea how I was going to get through school tomorrow, if this was how it was going to feel. Mom placed Emilia in a highchair next to herself. Emilia really was too old for it, but Mom was determined that if Emilia wasn’t wearing panties like a big girl, then she wouldn’t be treated like a big girl either. That meant Emilia also was wearing a bib and had to drink out of a sippy cup. I was apprehensive as I held up my plate for Mom to scoop out a serving. I really hoped she wouldn’t put too much on my plate. Let’s just say I don’t share her affinity for casserole. Disgusting stuff, but I knew better than to voice that opinion out loud. Thankfully, her scoop wasn’t too big. I could manage. I just wanted to finish eating as quickly as possible so I could get my butt onto a much more comfortable surface. Mom hadn’t mentioned anything about the spanking earlier today. She never did. It happened. Then it was over. She moved on without a second thought. I would rather eat in silence, but Mom always made sure there was plenty of conversation when we were together at the table. “How did the cheerleading tryout go?” Mom asked. I started to answer with a mouthful of food, but then paused until I had finished chewing. Close call. “Good,” I replied. Please, just let me eat so my butt can stop hurting. I hadn’t wanted to be a cheerleader at all. Or do any after-school activities of any sort. Couldn’t I just spend my time after school reading or playing video games? But Mom was insistent that I had to have a ton of extra-curricular activities since apparently colleges care about that stuff when you apply. Getting on the cheer team as a freshman isn’t exactly easy. I’d come close to making the team at the beginning of the school year. However, my best friend Desi had gotten the spot instead. It had actually been a bit of a relief. I thought I was out of the woods until last week, when Desi had taken a tough fall and torn her ACL. With her out for the season, they had an emergency try-out for a replacement. If only Mom hadn’t gotten wind of it. But she did, and I aced the try-out. “So, when do you start?” “Tomorrow. Practice goes until 5 p.m.” Just less time to be doing the things I want to. And no more bus rides home with Desi and Samantha. Mom would have to be picking me up from school every day now. I made sure to thank Mom for the dinner as I stood up from the table. “Remember, you need to finish your homework before you play any video games,” she said. --- I’d just gotten through the first chapter of “Crime and Punishment” when Mom opened the door to my room. Without knocking, I might add. She didn’t believe in privacy, or at least that I should have any. “I’m going on a walk,” Mom said. “You’ll need to do your homework in the living room and keep an eye on Emilia. I’ll be about an hour.” The Fitbit was another part of Mom’s health binge. She had to get her 10,000 steps every day, after all. Good thing she didn’t have to pay for a babysitter. Emilia was playing make-believe with a pair of hand-me-down Barbie dolls on a rug on the living room floor. Ugh, this book was hard enough to get through without also having to ignore her incessant chattering. After fifteen minutes, I had barely managed to get through a handful of pages when I felt the call of nature. “You behave yourself. I’ll be back from the potty in a little bit,” I told Emilia. The toilet seat wasn’t any more comfortable to sit on than the dining room chair, but when you gotta go you gotta go. I was nearly ready to flush when Emilia began to whine on the other side of the door. I couldn’t believe my luck. “Sarah,” she whimpered. “Hurry. I need to potty. Please.” Normally, I’d be happy to quickly finish up with my business and let her onto the toilet, but my still-stinging butt and the memory of her laughing during the spanking were too fresh in my head. Plus, with Mom gone, there wasn’t any way Emilia could force me off the toilet. “Sis, you’re going to have to wait a few minutes. Can you be a big girl and do that for me?” “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t,” Emilia whined again. “I don’t wanna wear a diaper.” If she was worried about being made to wear a diaper, that meant she was close to having an accident. It had been nearly thirty minutes since her last trip to the toilet. I could hear her feet patter on the other side of the door. I suppressed a laugh at the mental image of the potty dance she must be doing. And since she’d already had one accident today, another one meant she’d have to be put back in diapers for a whole day. I’d be changing them, of course, but the feeling of schadenfreude was more than making up for it. I ripped off some toilet paper and pretended to still be cleaning myself off. Emilia wasn’t good at holding it at all. When she needed to go, she needed to go now. All I needed was to stall for a few more minutes. “Emilia, big girls can hold their pee in for a few minutes. You’re going to have to do that for me if you want to prove that you were a big girl.” After a couple of minutes, I heard Emilia’s prancing feet come to a sudden stop. There was a moment of silence – a rarity with her – followed by a steady stream of quiet sobs. Mission accomplished. In the great potty-training war, I’d just turned into a double agent. I finished with pretending to clean myself up. Another minute wouldn’t hurt now that the damage was done. At last, I flushed the toilet and opened the bathroom door to a very sorry sight. Emilia was sitting down on the floor with her hands covering her face, both legs splayed out in front of her, giving me a perfect view of a completely soaked pull-up. There wasn’t a single wetness indicator remaining. “Come on. Time to get on the potty,” I said, pretending not to notice her accident. “I don’t wanna go potty,” she said. “Don’t need to.” “Oh, it’s OK,” I cooed at her. “Did my baby sister have an accident?” “I’m not a baby,” she shouted. “I’m not. I’m not. I’m not.” Beep, beep, beep, beep. Emilia crossed her legs and tugged her shirt so that I could no longer see the pull-up. I really don’t know what was making me feel so vindictive today, but I wasn’t going to waste any chance to rub the accident in her face. I placed the potty-training cushion on top of the toilet seat, and then motioned for her to stand up. “Come on, pull your pull-ups down and sit on the potty. Three minutes.” The pull-ups fell to the floor with a squishy thud. I took a peek down at them to see the yellow, soaked insides. The next three minutes passed into total silence. There wasn’t any more pee that needed to come out. “OK, time to put your pull-ups back on.” “But.” “No buts.” I reached down and grabbed the pull-up that was hanging around Emilia’s feet on the floor. It was warm and squishy to the touch. A twinge of guilt began to form in the back of my mind. I remembered how it felt to be forced to wear a wet pull-up waiting for Mom to change me. Having to deal with the uncomfortable feeling of something warm and squishy being held tight again my skin with no control over when I would get cleaned up. All the same, I pulled it back up over her waist. The rules were the rules. Two accidents today meant that I needed to put Emilia in a diaper once I’d gotten her cleaned up. I don’t normally question Mom’s rules, but in this instance a bit of doubt was gradually beginning to creep in. After all, both of Emilia’s accidents today were my fault. She hadn’t done anything to deserve having to be put back into diapers. Without saying anything further, I picked Emilia up and carried her the short way to the bedroom. The changing mat was still there from the pre-dinner accident. As I lay her down onto the mat, tears were rolling down her face and onto the bed, but Emilia didn’t put up any resistance. I ran my hand gently along the back of her head and placed a pacifier in her mouth to sooth her. “Hey, it’s OK, you’ll feel so much better once I’d gotten you all cleaned up.” I had a choice to make when I opened the top drawer of Emilia’s dresser. I should’ve grabbed the diaper decorated with the Sesame Street characters, but the part of my conscience that was feeling bad for Emilia had won me over. I picked out another pull-up – making sure it was another Ariel one so Mom wouldn’t think anything was amiss – and grabbed the wipes and powder. I ripped off the tearaway sides of the wet pull-up and proceeded to thoroughly wipe her clean. I added just a smidgen of baby powder after that. I didn’t use nearly as much as Mom would, as I can’t stand the smell. The look of surprise on Emilia’s face when she realized I was putting another pull-up on her instead of a diaper was immensely gratifying. The tears stopped flowing, and a cautious smile was spread across her face. I lifted her bottom up and made sure the new pull-up was fit snugly around her waist. As I tossed the used pull-up into the diaper pail, I made sure to conceal it underneath some wipes. Not that Mom was likely to go looking in there anyway. As I helped Emilia off the bed, she began to say something, but I quickly interrupted her. “This was going to be our secret, OK? Pinky promise?” “Pinky promise,” Emilia replied.