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  1. My Patreon page offers early access to all stories along with exclusive content and stories, with more to come soon! I have over 50 original stories planned but I can only write more, with your support so please do consider subscribing if you want more content. Thank you for your support. www.patreon.com/backtobabyhood. Chapter 21 The rest of the day had unfolded with a sense of normalcy. But as the sun dipped below the horizon and the shadows grew longer, Will found himself caught off guard when without warning Audrey instructed him to follow her upstairs. "Allons, William et Karim, montons à l'étage pour vous arranger." As usual, Will was uncertain about the meaning of the spoken words, but the gestures of Audrey's hands helped convey the message. Confused, he followed her, unsure of what awaited him. What could she possibly want him to do with Karim? Uncertainty propelled him forward, his footsteps hesitant and cautious, as if each step brought him closer to an unknown abyss. As Will followed Audrey along the corridor, his footsteps echoing softly against the floor. They bypassed his own bedroom, the familiar space where he had hoped to find solace and comfort, and continued towards Karim's room. The room was bathed in the soft glow of Karim's nightlight, casting a warm, comforting ambiance. The walls were adorned with colourful posters and toys, a testament to the vibrant spirit of childhood that still thrived within the four walls. Yet, for Will, the room now held an air of uncertainty and unease. Observing the surroundings, he couldn't help but notice that the room seemed incredibly juvenile, especially considering Karim's age. The changing table positioned at the far end of the room further accentuated this impression. A twinge of nostalgia stirred within Will as he cast his gaze upon the changing table. Its presence evoked memories of his own bedroom back in England before it had finally been removed by his Dad. Will's eyes darted between Audrey and Karim, searching for any signs of explanation or reassurance. Karim's face displayed a mixture of curiosity and innocence, as if he was witnessing a game or adventure about to unfold. Will couldn't help but envy the younger boy's carefree spirit, untouched by the complexities that weighed heavily on his own shoulders. Will's spine tingled with unease as Audrey issued her next command, beckoning him to climb up onto Karim's changing mat. In that moment, the purpose behind her instructions became clear, solidifying the reason why she had led him to this room. "Saut sur le tapis à langer, s'il te plaît Will." "Noooo.. I don't need to wear a nappy!" Will's voice quivered with a blend of confusion and defiance. The words hung in the air, a desperate plea for control amidst the chaos that now surrounded him. He couldn't understand why Audrey was insisting on this, especially since she knew that she was dry last night. She approached him with a calm determination, her voice soft but unwavering. "Will, je comprends que cela soit difficile pour toi. Mais ta maman et moi en avons discuté, et nous pensons qu'il serait préférable que tu portes une couche la nuit pendant ton séjour ici.” The words only fueled Will's frustration, intensifying the confusion that swirled within him. What was Audrey saying? He recognised the reference to his Mum. Why was she talking about her? Audrey pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and started tapping and scrolling the screen. His gaze landed on Audrey's phone as she handed it to him. Will accepted the device, his curiosity piqued, and began looking at the screen. It was the email from his mum, confirming her support to put him back into nappies. The words on the screen blurred, lost in a sea of emotions. He couldn't comprehend why his mother would say such a thing. A mixture of confusion and betrayal surged within him, causing tears to well up in his eyes. In that moment, he momentarily forgot that those around him spoke a different language, and the fact that their limited understanding of English rendered his words futile. "Nooooo, I don't want to wear a nappy. I don’t….I don’t…I don’t need it! This is ridiculous. I am an adult, not a baby" His frustration was only heightened by the language barrier that impeded his efforts to communicate his feelings and protests. Undeterred by his protests, Audrey gently tapped the plastic padding of the changing table, a clear sign for him to comply with her instructions. “Allez Will.” Feeling defeated and overwhelmed, Will stood beside the changing mat, his emotions swirling inside him. Audrey's stern voice pierced through his thoughts, urging him once again to do as he was told and get onto the table. "Allez, viens ici maintenant, Will." Audrey, realising the extent of Will's struggle, approached him with a softened expression. "Will, je sais que cela peut être difficile pour toi de comprendre en ce moment, mais s'il te plaît, fais-nous confiance, ta maman et moi, nous voulons ton bien-être avant tout. Nous croyons que cela t'aidera à te sentir plus à l'aise et en sécurité pendant ton séjour ici.," she explained, her voice gentle and reassuring. Will looked at Audrey, his tear-filled eyes searching for answers. He had no idea what she was saying but he sensed a warmness from her voice. Although he resisted, the genuine concern in Audrey's eyes started to sway his stance, causing a softening of his position. With reluctance, he nodded and ascended the changing mat, his heart burdened by a blend of acceptance and uncertainty. Audrey offered a small smile, grateful for Will's willingness to comply. "Merci, Will. Je sais que cela peut ne pas être facile pour toi, mais nous sommes là pour te soutenir à chaque étape. Je te le promets.," she assured him, her words carrying a warmth that eased some of the tension in his chest. Will longed for her to cease speaking to him in French. Did she not comprehend that he had no grasp of what she was saying? While Audrey readied the essential supplies, a weighty silence descended upon the room. The sound of the nappy being unfurled pierced through the silence, its crinkling amplifying the palpable tension that lingered between them. Will's breaths grew shallow, his chest constricting with each passing moment. Audrey's hands moved with practised ease, a mixture of efficiency and gentleness as she began to remove his clothes. He offered no resistance, accepting his fate with a resigned surrender. Layer by layer, the garments were taken away, leaving him feeling stripped bare. The tears that had threatened to spill finally escaped, rolling down his cheeks. He couldn't hold back his tears any longer, and they streamed down his face uncontrollably. Karim, sensing Will's distress, took a step toward the drawer near his bed. With a gentle pull, he retrieved a dummy and began walking to the changing table. Noticing Will's tears, he approached him with a cautious step, extending the dummy as a gentle offering of solace. A wave of confusion washed over Will as his gaze fixed on the dummy held in Karim's hand. Why would Karim, someone his own age, possess a dummy? And why did he believe that Will, a teenager, would have any use for it? Filled with a mix of surprise and frustration, Will emphatically declined the dummy, vigorously shaking his head to convey his rejection. With a subtle shrug and a faint furrow on his brow, Karim lowered the dummy, acknowledging and accepting that it wasn't what Will wanted at this particular moment. Audrey, observing the exchange, stepped forward to intervene. She placed a comforting hand on Will's shoulder, addressing both boys in a soothing tone. "C'est bon, Karim. Will est juste surpris, c'est tout. Il n'est pas habitué aux mêmes choses que toi, et c'est tout à fait normal." After Audrey completed the task of removing Will's clothes, she reached for the clean nappy, where it should be placed to ensure a comfortable fit. Carefully, she lifted Will's bottom in the air, sliding the nappy beneath him and securing it snugly in place. She pulled the sides firmly over his thighs and completed the task by fastening the tabs. The sound resonated in Will's ears, a familiar yet unpleasant sound that served as a reminder of his regression. Audrey's smile grew wider, her reassurance evident in her voice. "C'est terminé, Will.!" With the nappy securely in place, Audrey guided Will off the changing mat, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. The room remained quiet for now, the weight of the moment still hanging in the air. Will stood in front of Audrey, his body wrapped in the protection of the nappy, a tangible reminder of vulnerability yet also a source of reassurance. Audrey turned to Guillaume and Karim. "Guillaume, peux-tu aller chercher l'un de tes vieux pyjamas à fermeture éclair pour Will ? Ça le gardera confortable.” Guillaume nodded and darted out of the room, returning with a playful, childish romper. Audrey thanked him and turned to Will, who looked at the romper with a mix of hesitance and horror, as well as surprise that the family possessed such an item. He reasoned it must have been Guillaume’s as it would have been far too big to be Karim’s. Did he also wear nappies? Audrey extended the romper before her, beckoning Will to step into it. With a gentle tone, she instructed him to enter the outfit, seemingly assuring him, "Cela te tiendra bien au chaud et confortable." Will hesitated, his pride clashing with the notion of embracing such a childlike attire. Yet, the genuine warmth and acceptance he had received from Audrey, Guillaume, and Karim offered a glimmer of solace. It seemed that for them, this was just a part of their everyday life. There was no judgement. This realisation brought a sense of reassurance to Will, easing the embarrassment he initially felt and soothing his unease, even in the peculiar circumstances he found himself in. With a deep breath, Will cautiously stepped into the romper. As Audrey zipped it up, it suddenly registered with him that the zipper was not in the front, but rather at the back. Before he could fully process what was happening, he felt Audrey securing it further, as she fastened two snap buttons over the zip. As his hand instinctively reached around to the back of the outfit, a sinking feeling settled in Will’s chest. There was no escape. The zip was out of his grasp, rendering him unable to release himself without someone else's assistance. The realisation struck him. He was trapped and that presented an even more alarming issue. How would he manage if he needed to use the toilet? Audrey was confining him to rely on the nappy, whether he liked it or not. To make matters worse, he remembered that he hadn't had the chance to empty his bladder after the a beer he had drunk at supper. His past history provided a precedent that he would be unable to retain the beer inside him until the morning. He would soon be needing to release it. Given his history of bedwetting, it had become part of his routine to relieve himself several times before bed as a precautionary measure to avoid the accidents that had haunted him for so long. This familiar routine had now been disrupted. He would be confined to wearing the nappy until morning. Will was resigned to the fact that there was little hope of making it through the night without needing to relieve his bladder. Any attempt to communicate his need to use the toilet would likely be disregarded, just as it was dismissed by Audrey when he asked at the theatre. As Will contemplated the inevitable consequences of his position, Audrey called Karim over, shifting her attention to him. With a sense of joy and innocence, Karim willingly approached, showing an acceptance and almost excitement that was in total contrast to Will’s feeling when he was instructed to the changing table. Audrey proceeded to change Karim into his night nappy, the young boy giggling and enjoying the experience as she blew raspberries and tickled his stomach. Will couldn't understand why someone of Karim's age appeared so at ease with the idea of wearing a nappy, or why his room had such a childish ambiance, or even why he possessed a dummy. It all seemed incredibly peculiar. As Will was guided out of Karim’s room by Audrey, he wanted to escape back to his bedroom and hide away but Audrey blocked his path and waved him downstairs. Will walked alongside Audrey, Guillaume, and Karim, feeling the soft fabric of the romper against his skin and the secure embrace of the nappy beneath it. At the bottom of the stairs, Louis greeted him with a quick once-over before offering a warm smile, a silent gesture of acceptance. For Will, there was an inexplicable sense of mortification in being seen like this.He couldn't shake the feeling of utter embarrassment, looking like a complete baby in front of a grown man. What must he think of him? Will closed his eyes, overwhelmed with despair, as he made his way towards the living room. He felt a deep sense of dejection, wondering how things could possibly get any worse. The entire trip was turning into a complete disaster. He wished he’d never come on this stupid exchange. Unfortunately, little did he know that his problems were only just starting and the worst yet to come...
    5 points
  2. This story is written for the 3rd kasarberang non-contest. That Escalated Quickly By Bo Tox Chapter 1 Well, I suppose I have no one to blame but myself but the damned genie didn’t have to be so vindictive about it. Let my mistakes be a warning: Don’t make the three wishes. It never ends well. I was minding my own business while metal detecting at the beach. That day I found a fake high-end watch, a wedding ring and lots of trash. I was loading my gear into my backpack. The metal detector was still on and I sat it down near the dunes. It went off with the sound of something strong. The spot it indicated was above the high tide line so whatever was in the sand wasn’t new unless someone purposefully buried it. The sand was easy to dig in and I found a handle. Once pulled, the handle was attached to a pot. When I had it fully out of the ground, it resembled an old teapot. The teapot was a dull metal, maybe brass. It certainly didn’t look like it had a lot of value but if it were old enough, it might bring something. I tossed it in with the rest of my booty and finished preparing to leave. My diaper was pretty wet so it was definitely time to go. About the diaper, it is for convenience. If I’m making good progress while prospecting, I don’t want to stop to find a toilet. The facilities at the beach are often poorly maintained and borderline disgusting. With everything loaded in the car, it was good to get back into an air-conditioned car. Twenty minutes later, the car was in the garage and the day’s treasure was in the laundry room sink, getting rinsed off. While that stuff soaked, it was time to get something to eat, rehydrate and change my diaper. Full disclosure, diapers aren’t just for convenience. I might actually like to wear them. There’s nothing wrong with that. Lots of people do it. The microwave was spinning a pizza and half a bottle of water sat on the table while I went to get into a dry diaper. The microwave beeped on the way back to the kitchen. A fresh diaper is always a nice feeling. After eating and drinking enough to feel full, I went to the sink to start inspecting my finds a little more thoroughly. The teapot was rinsed off and put aside to dry. The other items needed another rinse. I towel-dried the teapot. It looked better cleaned up. A little shine might make it nice. A little metal polish and some elbow grease would do wonders. I squirted the polish into the cloth and started rubbing the teapot. I wasn’t paying much attention. When I looked at the lamp, it was brilliant with smoke coming out of the spout. The lights flickered a few times and the smoke grew thicker. I had no idea what was going on so I sat the teapot on the counter and backed away. A booming voice announced, “WHO HAS FREED ME?” I was shaking and might have even peed my diaper a little bit but answered, “I did, James.” “I am the genie of the lamp,” said the voice as the smoke coalesced into a head and flowed down to arms and a torso. The lower part remained a smoky haze. “Lamp? I thought this was a teapot,” I said. The arms of the genie spread and she smiled, “I was imprisoned in the lamp for 100 years. You have freed me and I will grant you three wishes and only three wishes. Choose wisely, James.” I scratched my ear and looked at the genie, “Three wishes. I’ll have to think about that a minute.” The genie looked at me with a wry smile, “Don’t take too long.”
    4 points
  3. “I’m gonna stretch my legs,” I said, unbuckling from my seat as I opened the door. “Okay,” Jacob responded back, his eyes still locked on my switch in his hands as it had been for the last few hours. I jumped out of the car, instantly feeling the sag from my diaper as I felt the warmth of the sun. I stretched my arms up, really arching my back as I took a breath of fresh air. It was odd how such a simple landscape could be so beautiful, especially after a few hours in the car. The warm sun was complemented by the cool, brisk air as the light scent of the juniper berry trees made for a unique experience among the mostly barren, shrub and rock filled land. The rest stop was pretty average, consisting of the main building for the restrooms and a few vending machines, with a scattered variety of picnic benches scattered throughout the park. “Hey you,” Samantha said, seeing me as she came back from the bathroom. “Long time, no see,” I said jokingly, causing her to smile. “How's my little man holding up?” She asked, getting closer before giving my crotch a good squeeze. “Just as I thought,” She said, releasing me as she circled around to the back of the van. “Come on, let's get you changed out of that,” She said, opening the hatch as she cleared a spot in the back of the car. “Here?” I asked, knowing very well that it was what she meant. “Of course, don’t be silly,” She said, patting the back of the car. I slowly walked towards her, giving a final look around to make sure no one was here, which was quite obvious given the empty parking lot with the exception of a single semi truck who was likely fast asleep anyways. “Take your pants off,” She said just before I started to climb up. Cars flew by on the highway just a few hundred feet over without much of a barrier between it and the back of the car. “Can I get in first?” I asked. “No, it will be more difficult that way,” She said, reaching down to pull the waistband of my sweatpants down. I felt exposed as my soiled diaper was advertised to the world, quickly pulling my shoes through the leg holes to fully remove my sweat pants. I quickly turned to jump up in the car, feeling the embarrassment set in as she stopped me again, forcing me to stand at the end of the car in my exposed diaper for longer. “Do you need to make any pushies?” She asked teasingly. “What? No- no,” I said, knowing that wasn’t entirely true. “Are you sure? I don’t want to be changing any of your stinky diapers later tonight,” She said, still keeping me from laying down in the back of the car. “Um- like at all tonight?” I asked hesitantly, trying to decide if I could make it, as I very much didn’t want to do it right here. “You’re not holding it in, are you Mr?” “No- no…I’m good,” I said, mentally biting my lip as I could only imagine this would come back to make things worse. “Ok…” She said hesitantly, scooting aside so that I could quickly jump into the car and be mostly out of sight from the rest of the world. “You better not have to make any pushies later, or you're going to be in big trouble, Mr,” She said with a smirk, almost as if she knew that I was lying. I laid back as she was sorting through one of the diaper bags in the back, pulling out the necessary supplies before quickly pulling me up to remove my shirt, further exposing me to the cool breeze that was filling the car. “Mommy’s gonna get you all changed and into a fresh pair of jammies,” She said, starting to untape the front of my diaper as I felt the cool wind on my privates. “Do you want some juice while Mommy changes you?” She said, riffling through her bag for the wipes. “No, thank you,” I said, blushing a little in the process. “Okay, sweetie,” She said, dropping a wipe over my privates as she started to wipe around my groin. Eventually, the normal wiping routine came to an end as she pulled out the old soiled diaper, and slid under a fresh one as I felt the wipe return, slowly finding its way between my cheeks as I felt her begin to circle my butt. I clenched a little. “Mommy…” I said, looking up at her as she let a warm glob of saliva fall from her mouth onto the tip of my penis. “I know, sweetie,” She said, slowly beginning to push her finger inside as she used her other hand to begin to massage my cock. My heart started to race. I could hear the cars flying by not too far from here as I tried hard not to think about what would happen if one of them decided to pull into the rest stop with us. My cock grew in her hands as she continued to massage it, as I tried to unclench. “These long car rides can be a real bummer, can’t they?” She joked, looking down at me. “You boys are probably all pent up with energy,” I let out a moan, letting my head finally rest as I tried not to think about the passing cars. “That's it, sweetie,” She cooed. “Let Mommy take care of you,” I arched my back slightly, raising my hips towards her, desperate for release as I let my mind drift. Her delicate strokes became more firm as she tightly gripped my cock, her finger delicately rubbing against my insides. “Who’s Mommy’s little boy?” She cooed, picking up the pace as her finger reached its furthest depths. “I am,” I said quietly. “Yea you are,” She said, leaning in a little just before a car could be heard pulling in. My eyes shot open in panic as I reached for something to put in my mouth, quickly grabbing a loose pacifier and shoving it in my mouth. “Shhh,” She said. “You’re doing so good! Can you cum for Mommy?” I let out a whimper, terrified that someone might come over. “Shhhh,” She let out again, letting a trail of saliva fall from her lips onto the tip of my penis, lubricating her hands some more as she leaned in to wrap her lips around my cock, pulling her finger out of my ass as she began to focus on my cock. I pushed my hips upward, now more desperate than ever to cum as her hands and lips worked in sync, pumping precum up through my erect cock and into her mouth. I let out another moan through my pacifier, biting down hard as her tongue wrapped around my shaft as her fast strokes turned to firm, smooth motions. My head went back as I bucked my hips, blowing my load into her warm, wet mouth as she continued to extract every last drop. My teeth clenched to the pacifier as I tried to make as little noise as possible, a nearly impossible task for me. “Mommy-” I whimpered through my pacifier, feeling a sensational overload as she attempted to drain every last drop. “Mommy-” I cried out, barely able to contain myself. She finally stopped, slowly pulling her lips off, making sure to trace her tongue along the underside of my inflated cock before grabbing a wet wipe to wipe her hands with. She said nothing as she smiled down at me, wiping her hands clean before reaching towards one of the bags to pull something out. “And since you won’t be needing to make any pushies,” She said with a smirk as I watched her take out one of my butt plugs from the diaper bag as she began to lube it up. “We’ll just slide one of these big boys up there just to make sure,” She said. I grimaced a little as I felt the cold lube press up against my little hole, before forcing its way up inside me, something I had wished she had started with. “Alright, big choice,” She started. “Just the diaper, or footed PJ’s,” She said, pulling my pair of dinosaur PJ’s out of one of the bags. It wasn’t really much of a choice, but I’m sure she knew that. Between the semi frequent stops for gas, or food, I would have to be really seeking that extra level of embarrassment from this trip that only wearing an exposed diaper would provide. But I certainly wasn’t. “Pj’s, please,” I said in my cute voice. “Good choice,” She said, folding up my diaper as she taped it shut. “Can you hop out for me” My heart sank a little, now knowing that the car had parked just a few spaces over. “Mommy…” I said, feeling like we were cutting it a little too close to the sun. “Come on,” She said, egging him on. I took a deep breath before quickly getting up, scooting my diapered butt out the back of the van as I stepped on the cold pavement. I quickly slid my feet into the legs of the pjs that she was holding out before pulling the rest of the Pj’s on, quickly sliding my arms through the sleeves and sneaking back to my door, making sure that the recent car wouldn’t be able to see me. I opened my door, climbing up into the back seat and into my car seat while Jacob looked at me with a huge grin. Samantha put a few things away in the back before opening up Jacob's door. “What about you, do you need to make any pushies?” She said, reaching up under his seat belt to give his diaper a squeeze. Jacob nodded quickly as he put the switch down before reaching for the buckle. “No no, you stay right there,” She said with a smile, heading back around to the back of the car. Jacobs' face turned red as he filled with excitement. It wasn’t often that Samantha encouraged making messes, but it was definitely something that Jacob just loved. A few awkward minutes passed as Jacob filled his diaper, while Samantha retrieved refills of snacks of juices for Jacob and I. “Good job!” Samantha cooed, returning to Jacobs door as she leaned in to give him a kiss. “Looks like we can get back on the road now,” She said with a smirk, shutting his door before heading to the back to close the hatch. “Waa- bu` I jus` poo`ed,” He said, suddenly flustered about the thought of being stuck in his mess. “I know, and you did a great job!” She cooed, climbing back into the driver's seat as she started the car. “Mommy is so proud! We’ll get you changed at the next gas station,” “Bu`,” He started, before spitting out his pacifier. “Mommy, please?” He begged. While I wasn’t exactly happy about being stuck in the back with his stinky butt, I couldn’t help but turn to face out the window and put an earbud in as I suddenly let it not be my problem. Afterall, I think we all knew he loved it. Did you enjoy the story? Want to help support me in creating more? Check out my Patreon!
    4 points
  4. Oscar, Ryan, Jackson and Sam sat in the back of the third van as it made its way down a long gravel road. Trees stood tall on either side, creating an eerie, dark tunnel through the forest as the van shook and rocked as it drove down the poorly kept road. The destination was the fraternity lake house. A place that the four had yet to see as they had only just taken the fraternity pledge before jumping into the vans several hours ago. A whole week out at this lake house was meant to help get each of them closer to their new brothers, ultimately kick starting their college careers and they were excited for sure. Minutes passed as the van continued down the bumpy road, while older members reminiscing about old memories from prior retreats until finally, the van rounded one last bend revealing the massive house on the lake that had been rented out for the new pledge retreat. A semi annual tradition that happened after each rush period for the fraternity that had predated back for longer than any of the current members even knew. The lake house was owned by one of the founding fathers, who happily lent it out for retreats to keep in the spirit of the fraternity, creating the ultimate hang out spot for everyone to have a good time. “Yoooo,” Oscar started, staring out the window as he looked at the house. “This is sick!” Jackson added as the four of them quickly leaned over to get a few from the window. The van rolled to a stop before one of the older members quickly opened the van door and jumped out. “Pledges, you wait in the van while we set a few things up, the rest of your on me,” The 4 pledges looked at each other, nervous for what was to come. Like most fraternities, they knew there would be some kind of hazing mixed with wild parties but it was worth it to them. A fraternity meant having a solid group of guys from day one of college. Wild parties, girls, social connections. It was probably one of the best ways to start college once you were in. They were here for five whole days and they planned to make every second of it count. “Who’s ready to get our cheeks clapped?” Ryan said sarcastically. “Yooo, what the fuck!?” Jackson shot back. “Don’t fucking say it like that, bro,” Oscar added. “What? I can literally see one of the guys carrying in the fraternity paddle,” Ryan said, pointing out the window at one of the senior members. There was an audible gulp from Sam, but he said nothing. “No way, that shits just for decor or something,” Jackson said. “I’d be gay as hell if they just started wailing on us with that thing,” “Well, what do you think they're gonna make us do?” Ryan asked. “I’m hoping it just involves a fuck ton of drinking,” Jackson said with a laugh. “Dues ain’t cheap,” “Yea, I mean as long as I don’t have to like cut myself, I’m cool with whatever,” Oscar said. “Fuck, why do you guys think its gonna be something crazy like that?” Sam asked. “Can’t we just like, join a fraternity without getting treated like shit?” The other three let out a laugh. “Dude, you better start expecting something awful to happen tonight. That way you won’t be as surprised when it happens,” Jackson said, practically grinning. “Fuck, even if it is awful, we only have to do it this once. Then at the next retreat we don’t have to be the new guys!” Sam shook his head. “Right, because I want to be abused just so I can abuse others later,” He said sarcastically. “Is that not the point?” Ryan said with a snicker. “Pledges!” They heard the president call out, standing in the door of the house as a few final senior members rushed in behind him, carrying the remainder of the bags from each of the vans. Oscar, Ryan, Jackson and Sam shuffled out of the van, grabbing their bags as they quickly made their way to the door. There was a crazy amount of commotion inside as they heard things shifting around and whispers being passed between the other members. “Welcome to the lake house! Each of you has made the pledge to Alpha Beta Upsilon, and we are excited to welcome you to join us in a week of our traditions! At the end of the week, we will welcome you as fully initiated members of our fraternity, and will happily call you our brothers!” The president announced. The four pledges nodded their heads, smiling with excitement as they thought about the wild week that lay before them, not to mention getting the honor of joining one of the largest fraternities on campus. “As tradition states, we are going to start with our welcoming of the pledges ceremony which will ultimately do two things for each of you. Firstly, it will assign each of you with a Big Brother. Their job is to help you transition and fit into the fraternity. They will be your guide, your friend, and work to best support you in any way you might need! Secondly, it will help lay the ground rules for this week.” “Wooo!” The pledges shouted, trying to hype themselves up. “Now, if you could each leave your bags right where you're standing, and follow me inside,” The president said, stepping inside the house. The pledges looked at each other confused, but quickly did as instructed and dropped their bags before walking inside the house. Inside, they were quickly greeted by a large entryway full of the rest of the members, gathered around in a half circle just against the main door. In the middle, just in front of some large doors that they could only imagine led to a deck of some sort sat a rather large, cardboard construction with 4 doors. “Pledges! Welcome to your first ceremony. Your job is really simple, but can have a very large impact on what the rest of your week will look like. Each of you will pick a door and step inside, closing the door behind you. Behind each door is a bag. You are to completely strip all of your clothing, and wear only what is in your bag. All of it, and nothing more. Easy enough, right?” The pledges looked around. Everyone was maintaining a straight face and staring forward, making no eye contact with any of the pledges. “Shit. Sounds easy boss,” Jackson said, confidently stepping towards one of the doors. “Failure to wear the contents means you're out of the fraternity, and only fraternity members will be staying in the house this week. All others can walk home,” Jackson slowed his step, feeling himself get a little nervous. The others followed suit, slowly approaching their doors and stepping inside. “What the hell!?” Jackson shouted loudly, ultimately being the first one to open his bag. “Silently!” The president shouted. Each pledge proceeded to open their bag, pulling out its simple contents. A large adult sized diaper with various childish prints on them, a pacifier, and a graphic tee. “We’ll give you five minutes!” The president shouted, sensing their hesitation. 5 long minutes passed, all while the senior members stood in silence, watching as the cardboard shook here and there from the movements inside. “Alright! Pledges! I hope you are ready to meet your big brothers!” The president said as the members erupted into cheer. Silence came from the box, as none of the pledges were too happy about the contents of their bag. “Behind door number 1, we have pledge Sam who will be assigned to Brother Jose!” The president announced, whipping open the door to reveal Sam, sitting awkwardly in his diaper and tee, pacifier in mouth as was expected as the members erupted with laughter as another member quickly knelt down and began to rapidly take pictures. Sam’s face was flushed red. He felt humiliated, forcing himself to tone it all out as Jose reached his hand out, ultimately pulling him off the ground with a smile. “Welcome Sam!” The president said. “Welcome Sam!” All of the members chanted back, immediately ceasing all laughter and returning to their quiet state as Sam continued to look at his feet, too afraid to look up in case of meeting someone's eye line. Jose stood proudly next to Sam in front of their door as Sam remained bright red. “Behind door number 2, we have pledge Oscar who will be assigned to Brother Nick!” The president announced, now swinging open the next door, revealing Oscar in his diaper and tee, but no pacifier. The crowd let out an audible gasp as if on queue. “Pledge Oscar , I do believe I was very clear with my instructions. All of the contents, or you walk!” The president shouted. Oscar was clearly over it. He felt mortified, and couldn’t believe this was the initiation. He let out a sigh, and placed the pacifier in his mouth. “Welcome Oscar!” The president said with excitement, followed by the crowd of members as they cheered. Oscar quickly got up and stood next to his big, looking over at Sam who he quickly realized was wearing the same thing which ultimately made both of them feel better about it. They met eyes for a brief second, almost as if they were looking at a reflection of themselves before looking forward again, trying to figure out what the least awkward way to stand was. “And behind door number 3, we have pledge Jackson who will be assigned to Brother Brady!” the president announced, opening the third door to reveal Jackson standing with his arms crossed, still in the clothes he arrived in. “Boooo,” The crowd cheered. “Pledge Jackson, are you looking to walk home this week?” “No, but I’m not a fucking baby,” Jackson said. “Like, what the hell?” “Jackson, I can only give you one more chance. It's either change into the clothes, or walk,” Jackson rolled his eyes, stepping out of the box to see Sam and Oscar who reluctantly looked over at him. Jackson quickly stepped back into his box as his expression changed to a rather worried look. He hadn’t been expecting the others to be in the same boat. “Fuck, fine. Give me a second,” Jackson said, quickly moving his hand to close the door. “Ohhh, sorry bud. Once the door is open, it can’t be shut,” The president said. Jackson rolled his eyes. He just wanted to party, not whatever this shit was. “Fuck it,” He said outloud, beginning to strip in front of everyone. He ripped off his shirt, and quickly dropped his pants and underwear before giving a good spin for everyone, trying to convince them that he wasn’t embarrassed by any of this. The members burst into laughter, which quickly caused Jackson to turn away from facing them as the humiliation set in. “Yea, yea. Real fucking funny,” Jackson said, sliding on the tshirt before unfolding the diaper and staring at it. It took him a minute, but he figured it out and got it taped on before plopping the pacifier in his mouth and giving a sarcastic smile as he threw his hands in the air. “Welcome Jackson!” The president announced, followed by the members. “Finally, behind door number 4, we have pledge Ryan who will be assigned to Brother Jake!” The president announced, whipping open the final door, the show Ryan quickly sliding the shirt over his head, as he had only just started to change when he heard Jackson being forced to strip in front of everyone. The crowd erupted into a big cheer as the final pledge was welcomed and all 4 stood next to their bigs, completely mortified and humiliated. “Now!” The president called out. “Before we can begin our action packed week, let us remind our newly formed Big Brothers, and introduce to their new littles the set of rules that will govern their week here at the lake house,” He started. “What is rule number one?” The president called out. “Littles must use their diapers at all times!” The crowd chanted back from memory. The four pledges looked at each other in horror. “Secondly?” The president called out again. “Bigs must attend to their littles every need!” The crowd chanted back. “And finally?” The president called out. “Failure to care for their little results in them returning to their little state!” The crowd chanted back. “Great! So let's give our new guys a little more detail. Yes, we really do expect you to use your diapers. Not only are bathrooms off limits, so is anywhere else. No sneaking out to the woods, the lake, wherever. Because of this, your newly assigned Big Brothers are going to make sure that you stay clean, and that your needs are met throughout the trip. That means they will be changing your diapers, feeding you, etc. If they fail to do so, they end up just like you,” The president said. “So, what? If I ask for a sandwich and by big doesn’t get me one, he gets put in diapers too?” Jackson said, already trying to find a loophole. “Yup. You can ask for food or drinks, and they’ll have to feed it to you. Limited to what we have with us that is. And if your diaper overflows or starts to leak, that's game over for them,” The president said. “Shit, sounds more like a challenge than anything,” Jackson said with a cocky attitude. “It is sort of a game, yes. It's been proven that the fastest way to form deep bonds with people is through shared trauma, or mutual embarrassment. So, ultimately the goal of this week is to get you four acquainted with everyone, and truly feel like you belong,” The president said. “So, if I’ve got to pee, I’m supposed to just…go?” Sam asked. “Yup! You’re allowed to ask your Big for a change at any point, as many times as you’d like... Just know that changes happen right there on the spot. On the floor, in front of everyone around you. Of course they can decide when to change you as well…” The small bit of hope that had entered Sam’s face faded as the president finished the end of the sentence. “Any other questions?” The president asked. “Are we allowed to wear our own clothes?” Ryan asked. “That's up to your Big Brother! Since their job is to care for your every need this week, it's ultimately up to them to decide what you are, and aren’t allowed to do,” The president responded. Ryan glanced up at his Big who was trying to conceal a smirk. “Right then, let's get this party started!” The president shouted, eliciting a loud cheer from everyone as they broke formation, dispersing through the house. Did you enjoy the story? Want to help support me in creating more? Check out my Patreon!
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  5. As with my previous stories, this one contains several elements inherent to the pre-established 'Diaper Dimension.' These include, but are not limited to: Diapers and their usage for their intended purpose Breastfeeding Non-consensual mental regression through various means (Including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery) References to surgery to achieve various nefarious goals Graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings Humiliation Giants, aka, Amazons or Bigs Predominantly female domination Babying of adults (perceived or otherwise) Experimentation on humans Coerced or manipulated actions through possible means of white lies, gas lighting, or incentives This story has not been labeled as mature, due to a lack of specific references to anything overtly sexual, but this warning serves as a 'turn back' point for any readers who do not wish to read about the previous warnings. Lastly, this list is subject to change during the course of writing this story. While most of the plot is ironed out, more warnings may be added if needed. For those readers interested or do not care about the warnings listed, please enjoy the following story. So, here is the first chapter of my next story on here. I have everything all mapped out, but I might be a bit busier in the next month. My hope is to finish posting the last chapter before I go on vacation, but if not, as a warning, there might be over a week where I don't post something new. (Edit: This story also connects to the 'Tell Me More' story I wrote a few months ago now. Dr. Mengell used it's findings as a catalyst for her to change her practice toward helping Littles in need.) I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 1: Welcome to Project Nurture My foot tapped anxiously while waiting for another conference to end. Today was the day that would determine if the so-called ‘Project Nurture’ would have been worth something more than what it had already offered to the participating Littles and Caregivers. Of course, they had seen the immediate benefits, and each was mostly happy with the outcome we had achieved together, but I knew the Board of Directors for Diamond Technologies was something entirely different. Many were old standbys of traditional methods and had literal stock in many of them and the tools and drugs required to facilitate their execution. This experiment proved, however, that it could move us Bigs away from the old techniques of the past, which was something I was greatly in favor of. Having been a researcher in the many ways of possible regression, I could still remember what I had seen and heard in my time with other less savory projects. “Oh please, God, don’t put me under! Please let me keep my mind… just a tiny bit! Why can’t I walk? Wah dih’ you do ta ma tun? Why does my head feel so… empty… and free? Stay in, stay in, why won’t you just stay in? I can’t feel my legs! What did you do to me? Maaa bahhh!’ I shuddered a bit. Those cries of pleading and anguish from all those patients still haunted me today. In a sense, Project Nurture was my shot at a redemption of sorts. From my experience, I knew firsthand that all other techniques alone were too severe, some even being outright horrible in any dosage. The file I now held with me and was about to present to the Board of Directors represented a new path for us Bigs. The small USB device in my briefcase had the potential to change everything if handled correctly and could be worth billions if applied correctly. ‘What old Drakos at Juventas would give just to get a peek at all the data in here… probably pay a fortune.’ Still, my loyalty was with Diamond Technologies, and I knew if they only could accept what I had to offer from the experiments I had observed, the world would be better for it. I couldn’t help but smile at the thought of such a change. It almost even seemed ironic to be presenting this information to a company that was now so infamous with its connection to Diamond Tours, but I knew that stain on their reputation would only favor me with the Board of Directors. Just then, the other conference ended, and several people started to quickly exit from the room. I stood up and walked confidently into the emptying room to start setting up. I clicked a few switches for the room control and ensured all the systems I would need were working correctly. I had just finished checking the RealET system when a manager from the previous conference walked up to me with a large grin. “Edgar!” Harry Carga joyfully shouted. “How are ya doin’? New presentation today?” “Hey, Harry. New presentation to the Board of Directors in a few minutes actually,” I replied while still ensuring all my slides were good to go after I had inserted my USB device. “Ah, wonderful! Wonderful!” Harry then got a mischievous look on his face. “Just between us old managers. You, testing division… me, marketing… is it about the new toy line… Mister…?” “Mister Brown,” I finished quickly for him, trying to move the conversation along to better focus on my presentation. “No, that’s another project, but,” I leaned in closer and indulgently whispered to my old friend, “I can tell you this… the Mister Brown stuffed bear line’s preliminary testing has suggested that it could be a smash success in the market. In fact,” I looked around to ensure no one was eavesdropping, “we even think the technology could be so useful, that it could be used as the basis for other animal lines as well.” “Oh? Do tell,” Harry said, practically salivating over the notion. I could already see his marketing-focused brain start to spin up with all new advertisements. “Well, it’s all still preliminary, but maybe elephants, unicorns, tigers, bunnies, and if the tech guys are to be believed… dragons.” “Oh wow! I can just see them now,” Harry said, his eyes practically rolling into the back of his head from the mere thought of such a lucrative prospect. “I’m sure you can, Harry,” I said, trying to refocus on my preparation once more. “Man, with the way my Little has been behaving though… I might just be the first to get one and use one of the special features I heard so much about from the rumor mill.” I wanted to smack him in the head right then for even implying such a thing for his Little, but I just smiled and wrapped the conversation up as quickly as I could. Bigs like Harry was why Project Nurture was so important. We Bigs needed a change and today could be the solution to get rid of the need for all those special features in the first place. I continued to click deliberately on the correct icons from my computer’s screen to select the start of the presentation that I had crafted just for today. A lot was riding on it, especially seeing the long line of Board Members for the company that were now walking in with their propensity to always strive for innovation and progress, yet somehow always come off as traditional and even regressive in some ways. Knowing the Board of Directors, the outcome of today with these fair-weather types could either mean a total success or a setback of at least ten years if they had their way afterward. Our society of Bigs had been entrenched in its ideology about Littles for decades now. Bigs and Littles once lived in relative harmony in the same but slightly separated communities. Now, Bigs and Littles were integrated together fully, but the treatment of Littles had only grown more severe since the so-called ‘Inclusion Laws’ had first been enacted, as indicated by Harry only moments ago. We all knew that Littles were often kidnapped or tricked into centers for regression and then adopted out to childless couples or already large families looking to possess an always fashionable Little, but those laws increased those odds by at least 70% in the first year alone. For the lucky regressed Little, some Bigs would choose to regress them personally, rather than those awful regression centers, but this could be messy, unpredictable, and even dangerous if handled incorrectly. One Little had escaped and killed their entire adoptive family of Bigs last year. Something had to change, so I took a deep breath in to begin with what could be that very change. “Ladies and Gentlemen!” I announced in front of the room of the now-seated spectators and members of the company board. “I would like to thank you all for coming here today, and I would like to especially thank the Board of Directors of this company for green lighting this project in the first place. I’m pleased to say that your faith in our experiment was well placed.” The Board members around the desk nodded subtly and the rest of the audience behind them gave a small clap. “So, it was a success?” Ms. Beakerman asked from the back of the table, shoving her horned rimmed glasses up her bony and hooked nose. The small applause immediately stopped. “Yes, ma’am. This presentation,” I flicked off most of the lights and turned the front projector on, “will demonstrate the effectiveness of our latest round of experiments.” The screen popped on and flashed my name, ‘Dr. Edgar Thompson,’ and the title, ‘Regressing Littles in a New Way: Using a Combination of Tender Care, Threat of Punishment, Mild Hypnosis, and Company Medications to Achieve Similar Results to Traditional Methods of Mental Reversion,’ with the codename, ‘Project Nurture’ at the bottom. Gasps went out over the crowd. They had of course been informed of the project last year when it was still in the planning phases, but knowing them as I did, many had likely just signed off and only agreed with some of the more senior Board members without fully reading the document. It worked in my favor for getting projects off the ground, but their rejection rates at this stage were often much higher. “Similar results, Dr. Thompson?” Mr. Cannon asked, drumming his fingers in an annoyed manner on his rotund belly that was threatening to burst all the buttons off the white shirt he was wearing today. “Yes. Similar results, sir, as you will see.” I clicked forward in the presentation to a slide labeled, ‘Why?’ “I will get to that in one moment if you will bear with me. I promise, your question will be answered in good time.” Mr. Cannon, the group skeptic, grumbled but waved his pudgy fingers for me to proceed. “Of the past methods we Bigs have used to regress Littles, three have been go-to methods for decades; a new drug, a new surgery, or a new hypnosis method.” The board murmured in agreement; each having grown rich off this company’s profits with each of the three methods in the past. “Yes, yes. All good, but each has a downside as we know all too well.” I clicked the presentation forward, now showing the three methods and images of their various failures. “A new drug often causes mass hallucinations and mental breakage of the affected Little, which means lawsuits and negative publicity. New surgeries reduce abilities but are often expensive and permanently damaging to Littles, not to mention a stain on the name of our society as being ‘more civilized.’” The board whispered in silent and obvious ashamed agreement. “And lastly, new hypnosis methods. They are faster and more permanent when done correctly, but if ever possibly broken, many Littles need to be regressed again with stronger methods or have even been committed to an insane asylum in some cases.” I was about to click to the next slide, but one member raised their hand. It was Mr. Cannon again. “Yes… sir?” “I read an article the other day, you see… your method I’m sure is valid, and you are right about the other three, but I think you left out one.” I raised my eyebrows in curiosity, though slightly knowing where he could be going with this. “What about these nanobots I hear all this chatter about, doc?” Mr. Cannon asked inquisitively. The entire room shifted its uncomfortable focus back onto me. I knew this was bound to come out as well, having just read the article myself in the company newsletter. “Ah yes, that’s true. Newer and faster acting nanobots have begun to pop up in several markets, even beyond our own company’s breakthroughs, but we have found that these often have some, if not all, the negatives of these previous methods. We believe that one day these will be all the rage, and we have other experiments dedicated to those that even I am involved with, but there are just too many unknowns for now.” I knew that something being classified as ‘unknown’ was a dirty word to the Board of Directors. It could mean money lost or reputations being tarnished. As such, Mr. Cannon merely nodded along with the rest of the board and gave me the signal to proceed. Satisfied, I clicked the next slide, labeled, ‘Background.’ “This method was originally formed when during one of the raids of a Littles liberation camp, a psychology textbook from one of the portal Littles was discovered. At first the textbook appeared to possess only rudimentary knowledge of the inner machinations of their primitive minds, but our scientists postulated that an understanding of their minds is both genetics, or physical workings, and one’s background. Further, information discovered could be used to augment the psychological profile of the average portal Little, rather than just their physical attributes. While not necessarily a barometer or new method of regression, it was thought to be a potential key to unlocking the secrets of Little society, both here and there.” The crowd leaned in further. I knew I had their attention, and I was glad that no one had outright objected so far. “In fact, what we have just been learning ourselves had been discovered when portal Littles first came here, but society at the time had caused the government to repress the information from being released to the public. ‘Our government sources still wouldn’t say why, but I’m guessing one of the corporations had their hand in it with kickbacks and the like… not to even mention all the tech from keeping Littles regressed.’ “The government only informed us two days ago… after the experiment had already concluded, however, our findings were more extensive and conducted with more concrete analysis and less… bias,” I quickly added after seeing some of the Board grow anxious for the potential of wasted money when an experiment like this had already occurred years ago. ‘Waste’ was another dirty word to them. The Board of Directors and the other audience members before me murmured in their own ways. Something told me that my personal theory of companies paying the government off in order to sell more Little products was dead right. A few on our own Board had dealings with the government in the past but had left for ‘undisclosed reasons.’ ‘I could be talking to some of those same members who were involved with repressing the information…’ I tossed the thought out of my head, knowing it wouldn’t do me any good to dwell on, and moved forward with a click to the next slide. “Regardless, our doctors have reinforced the long-held belief that portal Littles activate a hormonal fluctuation in many Bigs which causes their protective and nurturing instincts to go into overdrive. Some estimate the reaction is almost twice as potent with portal Littles as compared to our own native Littles. So, with a declining local Little and unregressed population and the widening amount of infertility in our society, portal Littles will likely continue to be, and even grow, into one of the largest markets of Littles existing.” I switched to the next slide. “The psychological textbook theories in the captured books were combined with years of research conducted by in-depth interviews of Bigs and even some Littles, who I should point out were not coerced in any manner. Then, Little psychologists condensed and tailored all those data points into this single experiment in its entirety to test the complete validity of this revised method into practice. I…” “Why the hell would they want to help us? Seems a bit suspicious, doctor,” one of the senior and more traditional Bigs, Mr. Galpin, shot out. I knew I was going to receive at least one objection from him. George Galpin’s family stretched across Libertalia in their influence, and it was common knowledge that his brother, Robert, and his wife Emily, had just adopted a Little of their own from one of the more barbaric regression institutes in the north. “Ah, yes. Mr. Galpin… You must understand,” I explained, “that the possibility of the success of this program could mean a different treatment for all Littles potentially. Not just portal Littles.” He continued to glare at me. “You see, our native Littles know that adoption is likely for at least 90% of Littles in our world, so if it can be better for them and for us, they know it’s worth their involvement.” Mr. Galpin seemed to steam in frustration for a moment but relented and leaned back in his chair. Hopeful that I had quelled his discontent, I continued with the slides. I clicked the screen again and two subjects were shown. “Here is subject 90876A and 90876B, and this Little and Big duo will be the main focus of today’s presentation. Of the 150 test subjects in this conducted experiment, 40 occurred in this country with the same parameters beyond test subject differences. In fact, two test villages were set up in the northeast and the south with 20 subject pairs in each, just to cut down on outside variables for the initial part of testing.” I then held up one of the spare data storage devices that I had brought along with me. “When you leave today, each of you will take one of these home with you. They have been modified to be viewed by you only using your genetic code stored within company files. Each contains all sessions conducted with subjects 90876A and 90876B, as well as the remaining 149 experiments with conclusions drawn for each. We know you, as the Board of Directors for this company, are busy with other matters, so we will leave the investment timing of viewing your up to you. Further, of the 110 test subject pairings not in this country, they were divided amongst seven other countries to ensure a wider possibility of success with our method across the world and cultures.” The board murmured with greedy anticipation. In truth, we could have just remained in one section of this country, but I knew that a world market meant a wider audience, and a wider audience meant more buyers of this company’s products. Despite the varied appearances before me, dollar signs illuminated each of their eyes in unison. I clicked the slide again. “All subjects were chosen for their backgrounds, desires, and for the Big, their demeanor and current job placement. We determined that the job requirement in all our caregivers shouldn’t be too time consuming, and the subject caregiver should be able to take off if needed to complete a part of the experiment if needed. Future experiments, if approved, will test this method out with varying job parameters, but for the first round of testing, we believed that further interactions between the subjects, caregiver and Little, would be needed. We also knew that a flexibility was important in both subjects.” The board nodded their heads in agreement. ‘So far, so good, Edgar… just keep reeling them in.’ “For the Little, smaller parameters were required. Due to the theory of mentality being a combination of environment and genetics however, each of the Littles came from the same dimension. The planet is a pre-fusion society and still relies on several pollutants for fuel, so this did allow some ease of tension when Littles were inducted into our society with our various advancements in technology.” “How were they convinced?” Ms. Beakerman asked shrilly. “Ah. Yes, well, we will discuss Little involvement in due time, but we have promised the Bigs to be able to adopt their assigned Little by the end, barring negative mannerisms previously undetected or violation of experiment protocols. They were aware of the experiment being performed and realized they could have a potentially better behaved and more accepting Little than ever before as well. In fact, off the 150 total caregivers we selected, we had to turn down over 60,000.” The board all appeared shocked but then resolved once more. Everyone knew about the struggles our society was facing, so honestly, 60,000 almost seemed too small a number worldwide to me at least. “Additionally, Bigs will be paid for the care of the Little with whatever tools or implements required during the process and an extra bonus will be given in the end if all regulations and procedures were followed to the letter. We believed this contributed to the fact that only one subject was ever treated incorrectly according to the regulations of the experiment. Subject 90872A and B have been noted in your files…” “You still haven’t answered my initial question, Doctor.” Mr. Cannon growled. “My patience is growing thin.” The Board Members began murmuring in agreement soon afterward. “I’m just getting to that, Mr. Cannon. Here.” I clicked the slide. “For years, as I noted, other harder methods are wrong and likely, illegal in most dimensions. They must stop. We, as a society, are wrong.” A gasp went up among the crowd. I had to hook them in quick or they would tune me out for the rest of the presentation or even leave. I didn’t get the chance though. “You’ll never get away with this!” a Big stood up from the back of the crowd and waved a gun around. The board members and I quickly took cover behind whatever we could find. ‘Damn security budget cuts…’ “There’s an order to things,” he shouted manically. “You just can’t go about and change the book. This society needs those other services, and you’re getting rid of them! You won’t get away with this!” From his appearance and general demeanor, he was obviously an outsider. Any employee of our office knew that our company had long been at the forefront of innovation, so it was inevitable that someone would want to protest something we were doing. As such, despite their cutbacks, our security had been trained, armed, and were ready to deploy all throughout the building and its facilities within one minute. This office was closer to the main hub however, so less than thirty seconds after he had pulled out his gun, our security burst through the doors. “Freeze!” “Screw yo…!” Bzzzzt! The guard at the front of the pack quickly blasted off his stick and a charge of purple lightning struck the gunman squarely in the chest. He quickly collapsed and was neutralized. The gunman never fired a shot. As they dragged him away though, some… cleanup and air freshener were required from where the now babbling man had collapsed. Everyone in the room got back and resumed their seats once the janitorial staff had disinfected and sanitized the room. The amount of money invested in this program and the stubborn nature of each person there ensured that a single small gunman would not deter what they had come here to see. Seeing that it would take something much more to interrupt my presentation, I pressed forward, now with a lovely smell of lavender and lemon in the air. “As I was saying… harder methods of regression have been used since the beginning days of what we now know as the ‘Little Reclamation Program.’ These methods are effective in their own way but still brutal. Instead of pacifying the Little population, no pun intended,” a small chuckle emitted from the room, “these efforts have only galvanized more Littles against Big-led society. This movement includes those in this dimension and several of the ones arriving here. In fact, the Secretary of Commerce for Libertalia has even projected that tourism will be down by almost 40% next year from other portal dimensions. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out why. They are scared of us.” “A little fear goes a long way, though,” Mrs. Gordon, a young and suited woman, quickly pointed out. “True, but we are now experiencing the backlash of such methods.” The snooty young Board member eased back into her seat. “About five years ago, if you recall, a rebel leader of a Little resistance cell was taken and regressed through the traditional means. From the request of the government, she was almost made a near-permanent newborn in looks and abilities.” I paused and noticed that all eyes were on me. Despite the gunman and some of the more boring introductions of the presentation, all were still with me. It was a good sign. “Her cell found this out and only grew in their hate for our society and the methods the hospital had used. Not long after, the hospital was assaulted, and several were killed.” I took a sip from my nearby glass of water. “Her mother was killed in the fighting and her father later had a mental breakdown. She is now in foster care waiting to be adopted, though her prospects are slim due to her permanent vegetative newborn state… and all that is not just one isolated case.” The Board looked wary and reflective of the event, but there were so many like that story, I doubted a few of them could even remember it. “Additionally, our company has produced a lifelike doll that mimics many of the abilities and functions of a newborn. Though we should all be congratulated on our work and success with that product, adoption prospects for vegetative newborns have been pushed even further into jeopardy. We can… we must prevent these events from occurring.” “But how do you plan on that?” Mr. Galpin asked smugly, just as a light applause had begun. “I’m going to show you…” I clicked the next slide. “Using the method that you’ll soon see used for subjects 90876A and 90876B, we can lift this burden from our society. We would still be able to supply the population with a stable Little population that may even choose themselves to stay and the method wouldn’t carry the weight of our original near-barbaric methods of regression. It would be a sign for a renewal of faith in our society, rather than others looking at us like a, to put it bluntly, horror show.” To my surprise, a few of the board members clapped in earnest now. Surgeries and hypnotics were messy and almost completely irreversible as I had previously pointed out. Big society members in this dimension were looked at like monsters only yearning for fresh meat to babify, and people were starting to catch on. If something didn’t happen quickly, few Littles would ever think of coming here again regardless of our trickeries or appeal in other ways, such as our technology. Seeing a thriving space program and alternative fuel sources was nothing if said tourist came out, if at all, with the mentality of a one-year-old. Still, their reaction was at least a little surprising. “Further, we have discovered that some of our more natural tendencies are even stronger with this method. An estimated 90% of the group registered a near complete Big-to-Little bond that parents achieve with their natural offspring using hormone and chemical levels registered in the body to verify the result.” “What about the 10%?” Mr. Cannon skeptically and annoyingly asked. “Yes… well, based on our preliminary research, we have come to speculate based on our findings that despite our extensive sorting and elimination methods,” I admitted frustratingly, “many of the Bigs in the selected group seemed to only want to become caregivers based on their need for power or domination, rather than with their motivations of something like love. Further, due to the lower levels of a supply of Littles, we suspect that some of them may have taken longer to breakthrough as they may have otherwise been deemed as Dark Cliff candidates.” “Oh…” Mr. Cannon receded into the rest of the members around the table. Every Big knew of the terrible fate that awaited any that were sentenced there. ‘True tough cases if there ever were some…’ “Yes… well, now onto the main presentation. Lights, Mr. Cunningham!” One of the techs for the room quickly hit the light switch and immediately bathed the room in an inky black shadow, the projector being the only source of light with the newly designed blackout curtains all around. “Thank you. Now, knowing that these experiments would eventually be shown to you members of the Board, we decided to use RealET, or for those of you not aware of our AV department’s latest advancements, Real Environmental Technology.” Many in the room gasped at the use of something so state-of-the-art. “Using pre-installed devices during the experiment and the projectors now in this room, we can map what occurred right before you as if you were actually there. Some thoughts and feelings may be known as well, but many have been scrubbed to avoid… potential privacy issues in most cases.” “Can this broadcast the Olympics? Spartans are on at 6!” Ms. Beakerman jested, a known enthusiast of their national team and one of their most prominent benefactors. “I’m afraid not right now, Ms. Beakerman, though I can put you in contact with the head of their department after today. You never know what tomorrow could bring…” She only smiled broadly, her wrinkles stretching to their limits across her face. “Now, we shall begin with the first session and move onward. There are 42 sessions in total, but for the sake of time today, we will only show a selection of some of the more important moments from subjects 90876A and 90876B journey together. Some diaper changes and tantrums may be good to see, but more than six a day would likely become tiresome, as I’m sure some of you with Littles can attest to already,” I joked. The board laughed quietly, but I could see that each were fully entranced with the projection rendering all around them. It was hard not to with eh blue lasers rendering bits of the recording in real time. “Now, brace yourselves, this may feel a bit… weird.” I then moved over to the main control panel and as I could already begin to see my observation post for the experiment from a few months ago, I took a deep breath and pressed the lever to activate the screen. “Ladies and gentlemen of the board, I give you, Project Nurture!” Vrrroom! Pop!
    3 points
  6. The Ballet Slippers - Chapter 47 Isabelle slept better than she had in a long time. It was the type of sleep that Isabelle, months earlier, would likely have described as she "slept like a baby." Unfortunately, that particular idiom had taken on a whole new meaning in Isabelle's life. Now, it was more factual description. Suffice it to say Isabelle slept long, well, and undisturbed, a smile gracing her delicate face as she tucked Rabbity under her arms, the covers wrapped tightly around her thanks to Jane. When Isabelle woke up, she was feeling rested, overwhelmed with fulfillment, and just generally happy - a happiness that she hadn't felt since the day she started going back. The reasons were oblivious. 'I can't believe I got to see Dani,' Isabelle thought to herself, as she stretched her little legs out underneath her, reaching for the edge of her bed without success. Isabelle herself knew why she had slept so well - it was the first night in a long time that her life was feeling in order; her days were passing more enjoyably at preschool with Julia and Becky, she had gotten to have dinner with Lola - who paid attention to her all night, - she had her dance class with Dani, who she had missed so very much, and even her weekend babysitting with Mel had been heartwarming. 'Everything is just......' Isabelle was on the verge of saying perfect, but stopped. The adjective felt right as it first formed in her head. It felt warm as it jumped newly developing synapses in her brain, flowing down her brain stem. The word filled her with warmth as it bounced around her mouth, her tongue and vocal cords preparing themselves to pronounce the descriptor to the world. It was only as the word made its way to the tip tongue, only when it appeared it was going to escape her lips, when it arrived at the last bastion of defense she had, that it froze, her body and mind fighting to stand firm in what she knew to be true. 'No.....' Isabelle was forced to remind herself. "Not perfect." This time Isabelle forced herself to say the words out loud, almost as though she needed to convince herself they were true. Perhaps she did need to. "None of this is perfect. Its not right. I need to -" Just as Isabelle was completing her thought, she was interrupted by a pressing and desperate need. 'Oh sh-' Isabelle clenched over, staying thematically consistent as she was yet again unable to finish her thought, however apt the choice of word would have been. 'Oh god no.' Isabelle knew what her body was telling her - she needed to poop. Isabelle took a deep breath and contemplated her options. Isabelle knew she was running low on time, so quickly considered what she might do as she shifted her legs underneath her, feeling the swollen, warm, and what had come to be comforting, diaper underneath her. 'If I try and run for the bathroom, I am not sure I'll make it,' Isabelle concluded. Isabelle weighed other options. 'I can call for help,' Isabelle considered. 'But that's not a very big girl thing to do.' Isabelle was desperate to think of what might be behind door number three, though hadn't entirely dismissed the idea of calling for help. There was of course, another option, one that was patently obvious to Isabelle when she had shifted her legs earlier. The option was practically calling out to her, inviting her, welcoming her to select it. 'There wouldn't be anything wrong with doing that,' Isabelle considered. After all, she was in a diaper for a reason - for emergencies, for accidents, to protect her from problems just like this. 'And it's not like I stayed dry during the night,' Isabelle reminded herself. It was alluring, Isabelle was forced to admit. Her stomach was aching for relief, and relief was readily in sight. Well, not sight, but it was wrapped around her waist. Isabelle was still feeling warm and happy under her covers, and wasn't ready to get out of bed yet, her happy morning still persisting despite her more immediate needs. And though she had been upset at her last two poopy accidents, this time it was.....'well this is different,' Isabelle decided. She was prepared this time for what would happen. She would be the one deciding it would happen. 'No,' Isabelle shook the thought off. 'No....I can't.....I can't do that. Not willingly. No.' Isabelle sighed, resigning herself back to option two, and deciding it was best to ask for help. 'Even if a big girl isn't supposed to need help.' Unfortunately it seemed, Isabelle's mere consideration to simply let her bowels go had overtaken her body for just the split second she had allowed it to. The result? Her body had decided to act. Isabelle quickly did what she could to tighten up her body once more, but her needs were now at a critical level. "MOMMMMMMMYYYYY" Isabelle called out desperately, though the action of calling for help itself didn't help, and caused enough seismic activity in her body that her sphincter opened at the small bit of force that was pushing out, and the head of the first log of poop making its way out of her. Isabelle was quite convinced she didn't have another call in her, and could only hope that her mom had heard her. Fortunately for her, Jane came in almost immediately, opening the door with a joyous smile and glow to her that made Isabelle want to be with her mom more than anything. "Good morning my little princess! What's going on?" Jane asked, as she made her way toward Isabelle's bed, sitting next to her and kissing her head. Isabelle responded in a quieter, more strained voice this time. "Mo..mmy.....poo...py....." It was all she could muster, as her mere speech opened up her body more, letting the head of the firs log push its way between her cheeks just as she stopped it. "Oh my!" Jane responded, quickly realizing what was going on, but still being playful about the situation. "Sounds like someone needs to go potty! Let's carry you on to the potty like a big girl!" Jane announced. Though Isabelle doubted that was how many big girls made their way to the potty, she didn't care in that moment, and allowed her mom to pick her up out of her bed. As Jane lifted Isabelle, another seismic rupture ensued. In the brief time between Isabelle being lifted up, and Jane's arms making their way underneath Isabelle's butt, Isabelle lost some control, and the small head of poop which had made its way out slithered it's way out from her butt cheeks, falling into the seat of her diaper. As Jane's arms swept under Isabelle's butt, Isabelle was able to regain control of what remained, sealing the walls before more poop breached gates. However, the little poop that did escape was quickly pressed up against her by her mom's awaiting hand. "Let's get you to the potty sweetie," Jane said, neither she nor Isabelle realizing that they were not quick enough to avoid a small accident. Jane carried Isabelle out of the room as Isabelle's head rested peacefully on her mom's shoulder. 'Never mind,' Isabelle thought, ignoring her bowels once more. 'The morning did get better,' Isabelle thought as she nuzzled her fact into her mom's neck, Jane's scent filling her nostrils and setting her body instantly at ease. "Thank you mommy." Isabelle said, unsure if she was responding to her mom's help, or simply thanking Jane for being her mommy. Jane quickly shifted Isabelle from her arms, down to the floor in front of the seat of toilet. Jane rapidly removed Isabelle's diaper by tearing the sides, and lifted her on to the toilet to sit without any further accident. Isabelle could hardly keep up with what her mom was doing, but as soon as she was seated on the toilet, her bowels let loose, one log of poop after the other. Isabelle sighed with relief. "Better sweetie?" Jane asked, as she quickly inspected Isabelle's diaper, noticing the poop smear that had escaped. Jane wrapped it up quickly, not wanting to damage Isabelle's confidence. 'Poor girl...' Jane was already growing concerned about Isabelle's progression with potty training, but it seemed it was not getting better. 'One day at a time,' Jane reminded herself. Isabelle, for her part, never realized what had happened, and simply nodded to her mom's inquiry. "All done mommy," Isabelle responded, as she started to reach for the toilet paper. Before her small hand could reach it, however, Jane cut it off, holding it and preventing it from going further. "Mommy will wipe you on your changing table," Jane told Isabelle. After seeing her daughter's diaper, Jane knew Isabelle would need a more thorough wiping with some baby wipes. Isabelle simply shrugged it off, and allowed her mom to lift her up, and carry her back toward her room to start the day. ***** Isabelle felt the car come to a stop. Isabelle had been distracted, and was not really paying attention to where she was headed, though she knew it was to school. Isabelle's mind had been elsewhere. More accurately, it hadn't shifted at all - her thoughts were still of Dani and Lola, of Mel and Becky, and of her mommy, the most wonderful of them all. Isabelle heard as her mom shut the driver's door, waiting for her to come around and get her out and take her to yet another wonderful day of pre-school. But Jane didn't open the side door - rather, Isabelle could hear her mom open the trunk to the car, and rummage with something behind the car before closing the trunk once more. Seconds later, Jane appeared at Isabelle's door as was expected earlier, only she wasn't empty handed. As Jane opened the car door, the mystery of the trunk visit had bene revealed. Next to her mom, as she was unbuckling Isabelle, stood a rather intricate and fancy looking stroller. The stroller looked like a masterpiece of design and engineering, crafted by a renowned brand - RISABABY - known for its unparalleled quality and elegance. Its sleek frame was made of lightweight carbon fiber, giving it both strength and a modern allure. It was engineered to provide the smoothest ride for Isabelle, effortlessly gliding over any terrain, be it a rough cobblestone street or a pristine park pathway. Isabelle was a little startled as Jane lifted her up, and placed her into the seat of the stroller. As Jane bent down to buckle Isabelle in, Isabelle took in her surroundings. The seat felt like a cozy cocoon to Isabelle. Isabelle wouldn't have known, but the seat was lined with plush, hypoallergenic padding. The seat cradled Isabelle's little body as she settled into it, ensuring her comfort. Jane finished securing the five-point harness system, securing Isabelle safely in place, leaving Jane with no worries about her adventurous daughter wiggling her way out of the seat. Isabelle's eyes glanced upward as her mom disappeared behind her. The canopy of the stroller was a marvel in itself. Isabelle immediately noticed as she was shielded from the harsh rays of the sun, through still allowing her to observe the world around her without any hindrance. As Jane began to push, Isabelle felt the smooth ride the high-grade wheels provided, swiveling and maneuvering, granting Jane exceptional mobility. Jane had selected the stroller specifically because of its safety, but also because of the multitude of storage options that adorned the stroller. A spacious under-seat basket provided ample room for Jane to stash the diaper bag, snacks, and other essentials. There were also compartments built into the handlebar, perfect for holding Jane's phone, keys, and even a cup holder for a cup of coffee or bottle of water. Isabelle started to look around, and noticed that they were not in front of the pre-school. "Mommy - where are we?" Isabelle still was not sure why they were not in the normal parking lot, and more importantly, why she had been placed in a stroller. 'I want to walk mommy! I can walk!" Isabelle called out, kicking her feet to no avail, intent on asserting her independence. Jane, however, did not relent. "Sweetie there was no room in the parking lot so I had to park across the street. Sit still. We will be at your school in just a minute," Jane explained, as she stopped at the crosswalk and pushed the pedestrian crossing button. Normally Jane would have let Isabelle walk. The stroller was really for long days or more treacherous areas. But they were already going to be late to school, and Isabelle often got distracted while they were walking. 'Not in the mood to pull her the whole way,' Jane had decided when she unfolded the stroller. As the signal to cross changed, Jane made her way across the street, pushing the stroller with ease in front of her. Isabelle decided to simply let things be, noticing some advantages to sitting in the stroller. First and foremost, Isabelle had been finding her mind stretched thin lately. It was harder and harder for Isabelle to focus on a number of things at once, sometimes even a single thing. The stroller removed any effort Isabelle needed to put on focusing on her steps, or where her mommy might be, freeing her mind for other activities. Second, and though Isabelle hated to admit it, the stroller was incredibly comfortable. In fact, Isabelle was not sure if she had ever sat in a more comfortable chair. There were no bumps, no uneven surfaces, no problems at all. The RISABABY was absolutely perfect, and she felt like a princess being ushered about on her palanquin. It was quite lovely. Isabelle's mind was brought back to reality as her mom turned the stroller around, so she was now facing backward. Jane opened the door to the pre-school, and lifted the stroller up over the last step. Rather than unbuckle Isabelle at the front, Jane elected to wheel her all the way to the classroom. As they approached, however, they ran into two familiar faces. "Morning Jane," Jess's familiar face rang from the front of the classroom door. Holding Jess's hand of course was Becky, who waved to Isabelle. "And Good morning to you too Belly. Lucky girl getting a ride all the way to the door today!" Isabelle turned a little red, embarrassed that Becky was not also in a stroller. Isabelle crossed her arms and started to pout in response. "Oh she's a little grumpy. We had to park across the street," Jane offered as an explanation, bending over to unbuckle Isabelle. "But I bet her mood will change soon, since she gets to see her new friend tonight again," Jane offered teasingly, speaking to both Jane and Isabelle. with the last buckle undone, Isabelle hopped out of the stroller, with a confused look on her face. Jess removed any confusion. "Oh that's right. You're having Sam and his daughter over tonight, right?" Jane nodded to confirm. "And then you have your whole weekend....how fun!" Isabelle's mind went elsewhere as Jane and Jess continued to chat about things Isabelle didn't quite understand. It didn't matter though - none of that was important. She was going to get to see Lola again tonight! 'I am the luckiest, girl in the world,' Isabelle thought, as her mood changed instantly and she made her way with Becky into the classroom, where Miss Deena was just beginning to start her class with Miss Samantha. ****** Isabelle was beginning to feel that every day at pre-school was better than the last. The morning started much like the others, with group circle time int he middle of the room on the rug. As the morning circle started, Miss Deena and Miss Samantha told the class they would be starting off with music that day, to which Isabelle, flanked by Julia and Becky, clapped about happily. Miss Deena pulled out her guitar, as Miss Samantha banged a tambourine along with her. The children all sang lively songs together, most of which Isabelle recognized right away. They laughed at the silly noises that Miss Samantha made when they sang "Old MacDonald," screamed out answers as they sang a counting song together, and even though Isabelle struggled to get the answers right, had fun. After music class, Miss Deena and Miss Samantha handed out workbooks to all of the children, along with a set of stickers with animals on them. The goal of the exercise, Miss Samantha explained, was to take the animal sticker and put it into the correct habitat in the stencil book, which had the Arctic, the jungle, a city, the ocean, and all sorts of other habitats. Once the sticker was in the right habitat, Miss Samantha told the children they could spend the rest of their time coloring the pages before lunch. Isabelle felt she had done a pretty good job. Isabelle found a sticker of a majestic lion, correctly placing it in the jungle. Isabelle also accurately put the polar bear in the Arctic. Isabelle was also able to put the seal in the ocean. But there were others that Isabelle struggled with. Isabelle was confused where she was supposed to put the panda bear, deciding he might be happy living in a metropolitan city. Isabelle also didn't recognize one of the animals, which turned out to be a narwhal, mistaking it for a unicorn which she placed in the forest. Despite getting frustrated with putting the animals in the wrong spots, Isabelle largely had fun with the game, and had even more fun coloring the pages. By the time lunch came around, Isabelle was feeling very hungry. Unfortunately, Isabelle was delayed in going to eat. Despite being asked a few times to use the potty, and despite each of her friends successfully using it themselves, Isabelle shook off the numerous requests to use the potty. The result? Isabelle had wet herself twice that morning, and was in desperate need of a fresh pullup by lunch. "Belly," Miss Deena explained, as she started changing Isabelle, "I want you to really try to use the potty this afternoon, okay sweetie?" Isabelle felt guilty as Miss Deena was changing her. Isabelle had known on at least the first occasion that she needed to pee. 'But I was having too much fun singing,' Isabelle thought. The second accident was just that - Isabelle had been too distracted by other things. But Isabelle knew there was a correct answer. "Okay Miss Deena." Unfortunately, Isabelle didn't have much more success that afternoon. After lunch, and during naptime, Isabelle soaked through her pullup again. When she woke up, Isabelle tried to deny that she was wet to Miss Samantha. Unfortunately Miss Samantha checked and confirmed that Isabelle was wet. Isabelle felt badly about lying, but after what Miss Deena had said, Isabelle had felt a lot of pressure to not have another accident. Miss Samantha took Isabelle for another change, and sent Isabelle on her way. Isabelle was glad that Miss Deena had assigned quiet time that afternoon. After her series of accidents that day, Isabelle was content to continue working on her magical theory for the first time in days. Isabelle settled herself into one of the reading nooks, and pulled out her investigative journal, slipping to the more recent pages to familiarize herself with where she had left off. Isabelle arrived at the last page she had drawn at. Starring back at her was the magical princess, with her ruby red hair, her stunning, shimmering crown atop her head, and her rainbow magical dress. In her hand of course, was her wand, the Star Rod, the very source of the magic that Isabelle had hoped. As Isabell continued to examine her picture, a thought occurred to her. ''It makes no sense to find a magical princess, or witch, or wizard, or even a fairy, if I can't offer them the means of changing me back!' Isabelle deduced. 'It would be QUITE rude of me to just demand that a magic user change me back, without offering them help to do so!' How had Isabelle not considered this before? Isabelle's conclusion seemed so obvious to her as she sat there looking at the picture. 'First things first,' Isabelle concluded, 'I need to learn more about this star rod.' Isabelle thought long and hard about her next steps. "If I am going to ever find this magical star rod, I am going to have to learn more about it," Isabelle said to herself out loud. Isabelle was confident this was the right path forward. With her tiny hands clutching her array of colored pencils, Isabelle turned to a new, blank page, and got to work. Isabelle worked diligently, carefully sketching a long, curving line that formed the wand's handle. The handle was a dazzling shade of blue, just like the summer sky on a clear day. Isabelle smiled with satisfaction - 'the blue represents the origins of the wand - it comes from the sky' - as she moved on to the next step. Gently, Isabelle did her best to draw a star at the top of the handle. Isabelle had to stop at one point, to make sure she counted the correct number of points the star needed, before returning to trace the star with her yellow pencil. Once the outline was complete, Isabelle worked to fill the star with an array of colors, reflecting the beauty of a rainbow, and the power that came from each color. 'It's the most powerful wand that's ever existed,' Isabelle thought to herself. 'It needs every single color to reflect its power!' Each point of the star held a different hue, from fiery red to calm green, and every shade in between. Isabelle's eyes lit up with wonder as she realized she was drawing the exact wand she would need to offer a magical princess to help her. As she finished the star, Isabelle reflected on the drawing and decided more was missing. 'This is no ordinary wand,' Isabelle thought, as she released her bladder into her pullup, prioritizing her drawing instead. Isabelle grabbed more colored pencils, adorning the wand's handle with even more stars, scattered like tiny stars in the night sky, shimmering like diamonds. Isabelle's pencil danced across the paper, leaving behind trails of glittering stardust. With every stroke, she felt a tingling excitement, as if her creation was coming to life. As Isabelle added more details, the star rod seemed to gain a life of its own. Glittering streams of light swirled around the wand, radiating an enchanting glow that warmed Isabelle's heart. She could almost feel the magic flowing through her colored pencils as she continued to draw, the wand's power almost bursting off the page. 'Where am I ever going to find a wand of this power?' Isabelle wondered, but she couldn't be stopped, as she paraded the wand with more colors, more power. Lost in her own little world, Isabelle embellished the wand with intricate patterns, shimmering colors, and dazzling swirls. Each design carried a different meaning—a wish for happiness, a dream of adventures, a hope for endless joy, and of course, a power to undo what had happened to her. With every touch of her pencils, Isabelle poured her heart, her love, and her commitment into her masterpiece. Finally, Isabelle added a touch of sparkle to the star's center. She imagined that this magical gem could grant any wish its owner desired. It was the core of the wand - the Star Rod's true power - concealed within its center. Only the caster could truly understand it's power, could wield the all powerful wish, could know what the true desire of the caster - or castee - was. It was the very heart of the Star Rod, and it pulsated with the purest form of magic—the magic of love and innocence. As the last stroke of color touched the paper, Isabelle beamed at her creation—a dazzling Star Rod that seemed to come to life on the sheet. She held it up, feeling a surge of power jump off the page and into her chest. To her, this drawing wasn't just a picture—it was finally the first step toward solving the conundrum that had overtaken her life, and nothing would stop Isabelle from getting back now. Well, other than that she needed another change. ******** "Oh god. How on earth is it already 6:15?!?!?" If there had been another adult in the room, they would have quickly recognized the stress, nay, the panic in her voice. Sam and Lola were supposed to arrive at 6:30 for dinner, and Jane was, simply put, not ready at all. Jane stood in her cozy kitchen, covered in flour, egg, and tomato sauce all over her apron, body and face. 'I look more like Isabelle than a functioning adult,' was all Jane could think in that moment. Isabelle, for her part, was laying on the ground nearby, intending on playing with a doll she had brought downstairs. But Isabelle had been distracted for the better part of the afternoon. 'Mom never acts like this in the kitchen,' Isabelle noticed right away. Indeed, most of the meals Jane made were very simple. And so, when Jane had sat Isabelle down on the ground and gone about making fresh noodles for a homemade lasagna, Isabelle's focus had been on her mom. Jane knew the dish was ambitious. 'But I can't exactly serve them what a normally make.' Jane was used to cooking for a toddler and herself, not for someone she cared about deeply. It didn't help that she was late getting home; Miss Deena had wanted to talk about Isabelle's accidents again, and they unfortunately got stuck in rush hour traffic on the way home. True to form, Isabelle needed to be changed again when they got home, Jane opting to put Isabelle into a nighttime diaper, explaining to Isabelle that it would be easier to put her to bed after Lola and Sam left. The worst part of the afternoon however, had been Jess calling. Jess was supposed to take Isabelle for the weekend, as Sam had planned a weekend getaway for himself and Jane. Jane was going to let Isabelle know that evening. Unfortunately, John's mom had taken a bad fall and everyone was going to go visit her for the weekend out of town. So that put a damper on the afternoon. Jane was intent to not let it ruin their night though. Once Isabelle was finally settled, Jane carefully laid out the ingredients for a delicious homemade lasagna, working as fast - and consequently, as messily - as she could as the minutes and seconds ticked away. Isabelle could sense that her mom was overwhelmed, and so set her doll down and decided to help. Isabelle stood up, flattening the dress her mom had put her in down, and crinkled her way over to her mom, tugging at her mother's apron. 'Not now sweetie. I need a few minutes," Jane responded to the tugging, making her way over to the stove to make sure the sauce wasn't burned. Isabelle knew her mom needed help, even if she wasn't ready to ask for it. Isabelle decided that she would take care of dessert, since her mom was so focused on the meal. Isabelle turned around, spotting a bag she knew was the foundation of any good dessert, and started making her way across the kitchen. Isabelle's bright eyes were filled with excitement as she reached for the bag of flour on the counter, her fingers just beginning to edge the bag over the side. 'Nearly........there.......' Isabelle thought, straining and reaching for the bag, which was about to fall over. Jane, catching a glimpse of what was happening at the last second, managed to prevent disaster. Jane darted across the room, inadvertently dropping the stirring spoon with sauce on the floor, before gently moving Isabelle's hands away from the bag of flour, and laughing, "Not this time, sweetheart. Flour isn't for playing." Isabelle felt a little discouraged as her mom moved the flour our of her reach. "I am helping mommy!" Isabelle declared, and Jane couldn't help but smile back at her. "I know sweetie. But if you really want to help mommy, you can play with your dolly and keep your pretty dress clean for me, okay?" Jane looked at the clock, as she bent over to pick up her spoon and wash it off - 'already 6:22 and I don't even have the lasagna in the oven.' More panic was starting to set in. Her mom had asked nicely, but Isabelle knew that she could do more to help her mom than just get out of the way. So as Jane returned her attention to the sauce and the oven, Isabelle changed tactics. 'If I just do whatever mommy does, that must be helpful!' So Isabelle stood nearby, doing her best to mimic her mom by pretending to stir the air with a wooden spoon. Giggling, Jane let her daughter play chef for a moment while trying to keep an eye on the simmering sauce. However, Isabelle's curiosity soon led her to another adventure. 'Stirring is boring!' Isabelle announced to herself. Instead, Isabelle found a better ingredient to cook with. Just on the kitchen island, Isabelle spotted a bowl of fresh eggs and simply couldn't resist the temptation. 'Those will help with my dessert,' Isabelle decided, making her way to her stool with the booster seat, and climbing into her spot. After making her way up - and always in an attempt to be helpful - Isabelle grabbed two eggs for what she decided would be her pie. 'It will be just like the one I made with Julia and Becky!' Carefully, Isabelle tried to descend from her booster seat, making sure her feet were firmly placed on the rung of the stool, and then the ground as she made her way down. It was almost the perfect landing, but as her last foot hit the ground, Isabelle slipped a little and accidently let go of one of the eggs, watching as it fell, fell, fell, and then..... *SPLLLLAT* The startling noise of the egg cracking on the ground had two effects; first, it shocked Isabelle such that she tightened her hand into a ball, crushing the second egg. And second, of course, it caught Jane's attention. a split second of silence pierced the room, just as embarrassment and shame overwhelmed Isabelle. Isabelle couldn't do anything to stop it. The tears formed by themselves, and a bellow from the pit of her stomach took over control, as she let the crushed egg and yolk in her right hand open up, and wailed for Jane. "MOMMMMMMMYYYY" Isabelle cried out, as tears poured down her cheek. "Oh no, Isabelle!" Jane exclaimed as she rushed to intercept her daughter before Isabelle made a mess of the yolk all over her dress. Jane rushed to her daughter to comfort her, grabbing some paper towel on the way. "Shhh Shhh it's okay sweetie," Jane explained, careful to not let Isabelle get any egg on her outfit - 'not that it makes a difference anymore.' Jane took her time wiping a few droplets of egg from Isabelle's hands, and smiled at her little helper. "Thank you for trying to help sweetie,' Jane said. Isabelle hadn't done anything wrong, and normally Jane knew she could keep a better eye on her daughter. "But let's leave the eggs for Mommy, okay?" Isabelle nodded, sniffling away more sobs. Just as Jane felt she had regained control over the situation, the inevitable happened; the doorbell rang. "Well," Jane thought, standing up, "at least he's about to learn what he's in for! Why don't we go open the door together?" Jane proposed to Isabelle, before laughing at what she could only imagine they looked like. Jane couldn't help but smile at the situation; she was perfectly imperfect, and Jane knew that Sam would have a good laugh about this, even if it was at her expense. Isabelle offered her left hand to her mom, which Jane accepted, as Isabelle wiped her running nose with her right one. Together, they made their way to the door, opening it up for Sam and Lola. The juxtaposition between the two sets of parent and child was comical. On one side of the threshold to the home stood Sam, standing tall in his perfectly pressed button down shirt, his beard neat as a button, and wry smile as perfect as ever, and Lola, standing perfectly upright in a designer pair of jeans, and a cute floral print sleeveless top with ruffled trim. On the other, Jane, sweaty, sticky, her apron, shirt, and skin, covered in various patches of flour, egg, sauce, and all manner of ingredients, and Isabelle, who had somehow also managed to get flour on her legs and arms as well, egg yolk dropping from her hand, and remarkably, wearing only one sock. The pairs stood in silence for what felt like a full minute, taking in the respective sights of one another, and Jane bearing a look of despair, before Sam chimed in. "So," Sam started. "How can we help?" Isabelle watched as all three of Lola, Jane, and Sam laughed genuine, loud laughs. Isabelle wasn't entirely sure what the joke had been, but decided to laugh as well. In the end, all Isabelle had wanted to do was help anyway. Now, everyone was going to get to. Lola and Sam came in, and immediately went to work to help Jane. Sam was in charge of stirring the sauce, while Jane worked to make the layers for the lasagna. Lola helped clean the egg off of Isabelle's hands, lifting her up and supporting Isabelle's diapered butt so she could reach the sink. Lola than wiped down Isabelle's legs, and found her missing sock, returning it to her foot. "Much better cutie pie," Lola added as she finished dressing Isabelle. Isabelle couldn't help but blush, before hugging her friend. "Now," Lola proposed, "why don't you take me upstairs and show me your room while the silly grownups finish cooking, okay?" Jane mouthed a desperate and genuine 'thank you' to Lola as Isabelle took Lola's hand and dragged her upstairs. "I have some unfortunate news," Isabelle heard her mom say to Sam, just as Isabelle was climbing the stairs. Whatever it had been, Isabelle didn't want to, or care to know. Isabelle was simply too excited to show Lola her room, forgetting for one brief night that Lola was supposed to already have been there before. Isabelle went about showing Lola all the parts of her room, filled with excitement. "And over here is my dollhouse. OH OH OH and over here is my bed. It's a princess bed, see? AND OH here is where I color. And this is Rabbit. AND AND AND!" Isabelle was on a high as she showed Lola around, pointing out all her favorite places to be, and her favorite things to do. Isabelle was so excited and distracted as she showed Lola around, she hadn't even noticed when she started peeing into her diaper. Lola couldn't help but enjoy the little girl's excitement. 'I guess this is what it would be like to have a little sister,' Lola thought to herself, the idea more of an unfulfilled fantasy than reality. "Well, perhaps fantasy not much longer,' Lola wondered to herself. Every time Isabelle showed her something new, Lola made sure to ask Isabelle a lot of questions about it. Without realizing it, Lola was actually really enjoying herself, and was almost as surprised as Isabelle was when Jane shouted up the stairs that dinner was ready. Lola looked at her watch 'I can't believe a half hour went by so fast.' "Let's go cutie," Lola announced, picking Isabelle up and wrapping an arm underneath her. As she did, Lola become immediately aware of Isabelle's wet diaper, but decided to let it be. 'I am sure it can manage through dinner,' Lola thought, but noted to say something to Jane. For her part, Isabelle was famished by the time Lola sat her down at the small kitchen table that they never used. Jane had to move Isabelle's booster seat into one of the chairs Jane had collected from the basement, and it felt odd to sit in. But Isabelle didn't care enough to hesitate eating, digging her plastic fork into her pre-cut up pieces of lasagna as soon as she sat down. "Change of plans for the weekend sweetie," Sam said, as he took his seat at the cramped table next to Lola. "Looks like I am going to be in town after all." Sam's expression changed to reflect his disappointment, though Isabelle wasn't paying attention. "Oh no," Lola responded, genuinely upset for her dad and for Jane. "What happened?" This time Jane provided the response, as Sam chewed his first bite of the lasagna. "Oh it's just that my friend cancelled on us. Her mother-in-law needs some help, so they are heading out of town and there is no one else to watch Isabelle for a whole weekend." Jane was doing her best to conceal her own sadness at the situation. She had been looking forward to her weekend away with Sam all week. Isabelle's head perked up for a minute at the sound of her name, though she wasn't sure why she was being discussed. Before Isabelle could ask, Lola interrupted. "I can watch her." The room was suddenly quiet again, just like when the doorbell rang. It wasn't the same kind of silence this time. This time, it was more of a result of surprise than panic. Lola's offer was sincere, but that was not the cause of the shock. No, instead it was the excitement with which Lola asked that took everyone by surprise, But Lola doubled down. "Really. I can. I can watch her," Lola repeated, unsure if she was trying to convince Jane or herself. "I want to watch her. I want you two to have fun this weekend." Lola knew her dad had been excited about this trip, and suspected Jane was too. Jane broke the silence on the subject, offering the kind of smile a parent does when someone offers something sweet, but is going to be denied nonetheless. "That's a very sweet offer of you Lola, but I know you have much better things to do with your weekend. And besides, she's quite a lot to deal with. She.....well you know she's not quite potty trained yet, and isn't used to me being away." It meant a lot to Jane that Lola would even offer, but Jane knew it wasn't a fair thing to ask of Lola. And Isabelle really wasn't used to being away from Jane for more than a night - there was no telling if Isabelle would be a challenge. To everyone's continued surprise though, Lola insisted. "Jane I promise it's fine. I am happy to. I...." Lola wasn't sure how to explain it. "....I like spending time with her. It's not work - it's....it's fun." Lola really wasn't sure what it was, but there was something special about Isabelle, and she really did enjoy spending time with the girl. Slowly but surely, Isabelle was starting to figure out what was going on. 'I didn't know mommy was going away, but this might work out for me,' Isabelle thought. And so Isabelle cheered out, convinced it was a done deal. "Yay! "I wanna stay with Lola!! Lola! Lola!" Isabelle cheered out again, bringing a smile to everyone's face. Sensing there might be an issue with Lola's kind proposal, Sam intervened. "Do you now? Well, why don't you let you mommy and I discuss it later, and we can see. For now, why don't you tell me all about your dance class yesterday. Did you have fun with Dani?" Sam asked, changing the topic. Sam knew his daughter's offer was genuine, but also knew that it wasn't fair to make Jane so out loud that she might not be ready to leave Isabelle alone with Lola, something Lola may not have considered. Isabelle's eyes perked up at the question. 'YES! It was the best!" Isabelle was a little surprised that Sam knew Dani, not quite making the confection right away. Instead, much to everyone's amusement, Isabelle's first thought was much different "Do you take dance classes with Dani too?" In fact, Lola nearly spit her food across the room, composing herself at the last second. After it was cleared up, Isabelle went on to explain all the fun she had, going through the lessons they did, and proclaiming Dani as the best dance teacher there ever was. The rest of dinner went along wonderfully, much like all the time the four spent together did. The night was full of smiles, laughs, and of course, lots and lots of Isabelle. As dinner was beginning to end, Sam and Jane worked to clear the table. Lola laughed at the sight of Isabelle, her face and hands covered in sauce and cheese. As Lola worked to help clean Isabelle up, Isabelle started to yawn, before settling her head on her arms on the table, her eyes fluttering open and closed. "Let me take her up to bed, looks like I have a sleepy little girl" Jane stated, "I'll be right back." "No." Lola blurted out, faster than she realized, before collecting herself. "I....I can take her Jane." Lola recognized this would be an opportunity to prove herself, as she stood up. "Really," Lola repeated, "I insist. You stay here with dad. I can do this, really. I promise." Jane hesitated for a moment. 'I want to let her do this. She really cares about Isabelle, and it's obviously important to me that they like each other.' But Jane also knew there was so much to do, and she couldn't ask her boyfriend's daughter to do it. 'But he's more than my boyfriend. And she's more than just that too,' Jane admitted to herself. Lola sensed Jane's hesitation. "Jane, she's in good hands I promise. I can help her get dressed, and help brush her teeth and,' as if sensing what Jane would interrupt her with next, 'I can change her diaper if she needs it. I can handle this. Trust me.' Lola's offer was made with confidence, control, and most importantly, love. Jane couldn't help but be filled with joy as she heard Lola's speech. It was, however, only as Sam rested his arm on her lower back, as though to encourage her to give Lola a chance, that Jane relented. "Okay. Okay sure," Jane repeated, before turning to Isabelle. "Lola is going to take you to get ready for bed, okay sweetie? You be a good girl for her." "Yay......" Isabelle mumbled, with as much enthusiasm as her little tired body would allow, somehow finding the energy to fight off her sleepiness for just a moment. Lola smiled, happy that Isabelle wanted Lola to be the one to get Isabelle ready for bed, scooping Isabelle up and carried her up the stairs. "I'll be back in a bit," Lola called back, Isabelle's head resting against her friend's shoulder, her arms wrapped around Lola' neck, and her eyes firmly shut. Lola took Isabelle directly to the bathroom to help her wash her hands and face more thoroughly, before helping Isabelle brush her teeth. Lola made sure that Isabelle brushed every single tooth. "You need a really bright smile if you're going to be a ballerina Belly, better brush them all," Lola reminded the toddler. Once Isabelle was done, Lola carried Isabelle to her room, and laid her down on the changing table. Lola had decided to change Isabelle regardless - 'the last thing I need is to be the girl who forget to change her and she leaked.' But when Lola tore the diaper sides off, she was surprised at just how wet Isabelle was. "You practically soaked through this diaper you little puddle monster," Lola joked playfully to the sound of Isabelle's giggles. Lola took her time changing Isabelle. 'Dani is so much better at this kid stuff,' Lola admitted to herself. 'But I want to be better too.' Lola took her time, making sure to be gentle in wiping Isabelle. Lola then took the time to put some lotion on Isabelle, setting a clean diaper underneath her, before spraying Isabelle with likely too much baby powder. Just like that, Lola sealed up Isabelle's second diaper of the night, before pulling out a nightgown and helping Isabelle into it. By the time Lola lifted Isabelle off of the changing table, the sweet girl was already fast asleep. Gently, Lola laid Isabelle down into her princess bad, placing Rabbity in her arms, and pulling the covers snugly over her charge. Lola took a moment to sit at the edge of the bed, watching as Isabelle slept peacefully before her. Lola took her hand and gently stroked Isabelle's hair, unable to stop herself from smiling. Lola leaned it, kissed Isabelle goodnight on her forehead, before sitting back up. 'I know what I am going to do.' Quietly, Lola left Isabelle's room, shutting the lights and door behind her, before making her way back down to the living room where she saw her dad and Jane on the couch together. Lola made her way over to them with a renewed energy, confidence, and most importantly, determination. Lola planted her feet in front of her dad and Jane, and offered them only one sentence. "I'm watching her this weekend, and that's the end of that." Jane and Sam simply laughed. Jane knew her willpower to say no had been defeated. Jane could see the love Lola had for her daughter in her eyes, and knew she could trust Lola with anything. It didn't hurt that suddenly, Jane was looking forward to her weekend again. Thank you so much! I really worked hard to set some things up in early chapters and so am grateful for those that are reading or re-reading as it goes on and can appreciate them! I am so very happy to hear from you when you post! Thanks for the support!! Well, here I was trying to write a chapter and you go ahead and try and make me feel good about myself and stuff while I am trying to edit! Do you know how distracting that is? Have some compassion for this suffering soul! 🙃. But truly, thank you for your kind words! You were my first ever *official* follower on this site, and it means a lot to have you continue to follow along. I have been desperate to race Isabelle toward the end at times, and am constantly fighting myself to hold back. My vacation time was much needed, but I am hoping to get some writing in this week and next, so hopefully more to come in the near future. Privileged to have you as a reader!
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  7. Chapter 39: Studio Three Productions THE NEXT MORNING, I was woken up as Mackenzie carried me to the changing table. “Well, good morning, my little fire monster!” she cooed. I blushed, “morning,” I said sleepily. I was still pretty asleep as she unzipped the sleeper and exposed the diaper. It was only then that I remembered what had happened last night! She pulled the tapes off and sighed, “Well, I guess the night was a fluke. You’re clean and dry, Connor. I’ll keep last night’s diaper between the two of us?” I worried there was a catch but forced a smile and said, “Thanks,” quietly. She used her finger to push my chin up, “Don’t worry about it, sweetie! You already had a bath this morning; it’s up to you if you want to shower now?” I thought about it for a second, “I may actually just get dressed and get to work on my homework. What time is it?” I asked. She told me, and I realized I still had a good hour before we would leave for breakfast. After brushing my teeth quickly, I got to work on the screenplay and some of the work for my Friday classes. I was quiet through breakfast, not engaging anyone until someone said, “Hey, that’s the Little!” I looked around and saw several tall guys coming my way, “You were awesome last night!” Ava sat across from me and asked, “What did you do last night?” “This crazy Little ate all of the crazy Bigs under the table!!!!” one boy crowed. “Huh?” “Umm… thanks, guys, but I’m trying to study right now?” I said. “Sure thing! You made me two-hundred bucks, though! I owe you one!” The guy said. “What’s he talking about?” Ava asked after he left. Only then did I pay attention to her and Amy joining me at the table. I sighed, “My nest mother Mackenzie took me to compete at a spicy food contest last night at the union.” “Oh, how did it go?” Amy asked. “I won,” I smiled. “Why do you look like you lost?” Ava asked. I sighed, “After effects, let’s just say the spice wasn’t bad until it came out the other end…” Amy giggled, “Oops…” I managed to get out of there without owning up to that coming out in the night. Still, I narrowly made it to a Matisse building restroom before my body repeated its burning evacuation! I forced myself to drink some water as I walked into my class to stay hydrated and discovered a highchair had been placed beside a front table for me. Professor Gibney saw me enter and said, “I managed to find a chair for you!” “Umm… thanks Professor,” I said. I walked over to it and pulled my bag off my shoulders. I was about to figure out how to climb in when the professor came over and placed me inside. “Hopefully, that’ll be more comfortable!” He said as he buckled a safety harness shut. I just nodded, unable to figure out what to say positively about the experience of being locked in a baby chair! Others came in, and he said, “Please make sure you have your computers out with the ScreenPlus system open to your outlines. Also, if you haven’t posted your project in the classroom, please do so now.” I had posted mine already, so I just opened the program and reviewed my storyboards. I had completed the entire assignment as expected, plus I had managed character creation and ten of the script pages at this point. I noticed several people putting their files in at the last second, and eventually, he started the class. “Well, good morning! I’ve seen about half of your outlines were turned in when I checked before, and I’m hoping the rest are completed now?” Only one person shook their head, “Why not? Mister…?” Everyone’s heads turned and saw a shorter Amazon guy, “Carter, sir.” The guy seemed squeamish, “I just didn’t get it done? I started, but it was a pretty big project, sir?” Gibney nodded, “It was, and keep in mind this is what the real world often looks like with impossible deadlines. I’m not going to fail you the first time Mister Carter, but if it happens a second time, it will be like the real world – you’ll be fired.” I noticed the guy’s face pale, but he said, “Sorry, sir, won’t happen again!” “How did you find the project and the software for the rest of you?” There were crickets for several long moments, and I decided to bite the bullet, “It’s a cool idea to give us this project. I’m looking forward to the other side in my narratives class with making them. That being said, it was a pretty insane assignment on top of my other work,” I shrugged, “the software you provided was helpful, though. I don’t think I could have met the deadline if I had to storyboard it by hand with sketching?” Professor Gibney smiled, “Well said, Mister Slane!” He walked to his computer and brought up the classroom page from his side. “It looks like I have everyone in here; now you’ll have a week to create the draft script. Again, this should be somewhere between forty-five and sixty pages most likely…” I sat there as he talked about the technical side of things and reviewed some techniques for writing action sequences, camera angles, etc. Some of it I knew from back home already, but there were a few tips and tricks he shared that were new. Especially since some involved the holo-film needing additional directions for the depth of fields we wanted. All-in-all the three-hour class flew by pretty quickly! As soon as another classmate helped me out of the seat, I booked it for the bathroom and climbed carefully onto the giant toilet with my stool. Liquid poop spewed from my bottom again, and I couldn’t help but worry I would lose a star or get forced back into diapers if it didn’t stop soon! BETH WALKED OUT of her Signals class and sighed, knowing how much studying she had in front of her that coming weekend. The Signals class had a virtual lab component she needed to complete and a short technical summary about it when she was done! After a quick pit stop, she headed to the dining hall and saw Cassie sitting with Connor. After grabbing herself a tray of pizza and salad, she joined them. “How are you feeling today?” Beth asked Connor. He blushed, “Let’s just say this has been the gift that keeps on giving.” Beth couldn’t help but giggle at his expense! “Burns both ways?” she laughed. “A lot more than it did going down!” “Why in the world did you agree to do that in the first place?” Beth asked. “It seemed like a good idea at the time?” Connor shrugged his shoulders. “Plus, I did win a bunch of money in gift cards for the bookstore and food?” Beth shook her head, “Connor, you are going to get into so much trouble…?” Cassie laughed, “Let him enjoy the win,” she told Beth. “So, how is the screenwriting class going?” Beth asked Connor. “Kelly behaved herself today,” Connor said first, “But it’s a pretty insane class. We had one guy who didn’t have his assignment done… Even though the professor said it was an insane assignment, he also said he won’t tolerate another mistake.” “Was he a Tweener?” Cassie asked curiously. Connor shook his head, “No, he’s kind of short for a Big, though.” “Sometimes they get lumped in with us,” Beth said. The three of them ate lunch and chatted for a while before Cassie had to go to her first class of the day. “What are you up to now?” Beth asked him. “Well, I have a couple more hours before Narratives; I was thinking about either going to the library or back to my room?” “How about we both go to the library?” She suggested. “I need to do some studying, and maybe I can get you to help with some of my problems?” The smile he returned to her made her feel warm inside. “Sure!” She didn’t often end up in the library to study, but she had used some of their glass study rooms a few times before. ‘I definitely didn’t want to go to his room to study, and I didn’t want to hear the comments if I brought him back to my room…’ She thought. Connor insisted on hitting the restroom first. She used the time to check in on the app for an empty room. Seeing one, Beth quickly reserved it before he came out, and they headed to the library. Conveniently it wasn’t far from Matisse, where they would be going afterward. She led Connor to the front desk. “We have a reservation for study room 319?” Beth asked the woman working the desk. She looked at the two of them and said, “Let me check?” Beth saw Connor looking at the immense space and some of the search displays people used. “All of the books have been scanned and are available through the university’s repository,” she told him. “No physical books at all?” Connor asked. “It makes sense, I guess, but I’m kind of like my Mama; it’s nice to have a hard copy sometimes.” “I do miss the smell of the books,” the woman said. “But I don’t miss moving them all the time!” she laughed. “I see the reservation you have here. How long do you need it?” “An hour?” Beth said, “Just killing time and studying before our next class.” “Sounds good; just bring this card back down when you’re done. No food in the room, please.” “Sure,” Beth said. Following the directions, they unlocked a room that was one of Beth’s favorites in her limited experience. A couple couches sat along the outside of the room, and a conference table was in the middle. She watched Connor climb onto the sofa like it was a mountain before opening his bag up and pulling out a school computer. “What are you starting on?” She asked him. “I figured I should spend some time on this script; there’s a lot to do still! I hope I can find time at Grandma’s this weekend to finish, but I guess they’re having a birthday party for Meggy?” “That whole situation is weird,” she told Connor, “I mean, she’s the same age as my parents but looks younger than me?” Connor nodded and looked at her oddly. It made her wonder if he knew about her history. She sat there for a long moment before asking, “So can you help me make sense of this problem?” I HAD ENJOYED hanging out and studying with Beth for the hour we were in the library. She knew how to be quiet but also asked me for help which I enjoyed giving. It was like how I would hang out with Riley when we were in high school. I sighed as we packed up our stuff. “What’s wrong?” Beth asked me. “Just thinking of my family,” I said. “I only saw them once or twice a month when I started college, but at least I had the option of going home to visit on the weekend.” “Who do you miss most?” She asked. I smiled, “Probably Mom or my sister Riley.” “I understand missing them; I feel the same way sometimes. Other than a few big alumni events my mom and dad use as excuses, they don’t come out much here.” “Well, your dad is probably busy?” She nodded, “Depending on the time of the year. They get a big break after they release decisions in the summer, and of course, federal holidays.” I nodded, “Makes sense.” She returned the card to the librarian, “Hope you two got some work done?” The woman asked. We both nodded, “Yes, ma’am, thanks!” I said. She told me a bit about her siblings as we walked to class. She was frequently the butt of jokes since she was so much shorter than everyone else, “Even Laura is a foot-and-a-half taller than me!” I laughed, “I’m more used to being on the other side of that!” We sat down together in the same area as the day before and talked until class began. “Good afternoon, everyone!” Professor Wyler said from the front. “We’re going to be off to the races here today as we set up our groups and get some hands-on time with the equipment you’ll be using. Keep in mind that I am showing you just a few features and details; knowing how to do this well can be a lifetime of study and learning by trial - and a lot of error!” There was a smattering of humoring laughter for him before he continued the lecture. We would be divided up into one of four studios, he reminded us, and he showed us that each studio would have three cameras, accessories, two drone cameras that could be used for indoor or outdoor shots, a few dozen types of wireless and wired mics that could be placed on actors or suspended from booms, lighting equipment, and access to the film computer lab for editing at the end. We took ten minutes to play with the equipment as he explained each item. I found myself quite excited to play around with the cameras in particular. I was amazed that the operators were using goggles instead of using any sort of eyepiece or viewscreen. Still, it made total sense as soon as I donned the oversized goggles! You could see the Holo-screen realistically with the goggles, like in a theater or on the projections I’d seen so far. Adjusting settings meant you could change the depth of field in the room and many other characteristics to make things focus on different details! Fortunately, Professor Wyler had acquired a couple of pairs of small goggles for me and any other smaller people… which was really just Beth. They were still pretty oversized for me, and I wondered if my EdgeSphere goggles could be attached instead. While I was the tiniest person in the class by far, Beth was clearly the second shortest by a good amount. If I had to guess, she was probably a foot-and-a-half shorter than the nearest student! Fortunately, Kelly occupied herself on the other side of the room, and I hoped that would continue through the semester. “Okay, everyone, please come grab the card with your name on it from the table here? We’ll get you all divided up into your studios.” Professor Wyler said about ninety minutes into one of my favorite college classes ever! I drew my card and followed Beth over to the side. I looked at it, and it said Studio Three Productions. “What’s your say?” I asked her. She smiled and said, “Same as yours!” “Cool!” I was happy we could work together as I would hate to have separated! “Okay, if you all would please go ahead and go to the equipment table for your studio now?” I had noted the numbers before. My heart sank as I realized we were both about to be stuck with a problem together. Kelly was in our group, giving us a grin that said she was looking forward to screwing with us somehow! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ 
Thank you for reading! Please press the ‘Like’ Button for this chapter! Comments are always really, really super appreciated as well! LCW will have a new posting every Friday for the foreseeable future! Your support through likes and comments means a lot to me. If you’ve enjoyed this or any of my other works, consider supporting me by purchasing copies of them on Amazon Kindle! (And if you do so pretty, please consider leaving me a 5-star review (you can just leave the stars, and no public reviews are viewable then!))
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  8. Am I a Little Kid Now? My aunt warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.” I asked, “How long?” She looked perplexed, and asked,” How long what?” “How long will I have to stay in diapers?” Aunt Amanda tilted her head with a strange look. She asked, “Honey, is that what you want?” I don’t know what would have happened if I told her the truth. I think she was ready to put me in a diaper right there, but I didn’t want her to think I was a freak. I furiously shook my head, which was more of an act, and said, “No, no, no! I just want to know what happens if I have another accident.” Aunt Amanda was dubious but indulged me. She talked to me like I was a child. “Right now, I don’t know if you are ready to use the potty by yourself. That’s why you are wearing Pull-ups. Big kids use the potty by themselves. If you keep having accidents, I know you’re not ready. That means you need diapers, and you can’t be a big kid if you need diapers. Does that make sense?” It didn’t make any sense, but I nodded anyway. I asked, “But for how long?” “You’ll need to be potty-trained before you can wear big boy pants. That can’t happen until you are ready.” “How will you know if I’m ready?” Aunt Amanda calmly answered, “It depends. I knew that Debbie was ready when she stayed dry for a long time and used the potty when I asked her. Now she doesn’t need help using the potty and does it all by herself. Older kids sometimes take longer. You are older than Debbie, so a day won’t feel as long to you. You might need a longer break before you are ready. It’s also very important for you to cooperate with me. I can’t teach you to use the potty if you don’t listen to me.” I remembered what my mom told me. “My mom said that it might take the whole summer. She said if I can’t help it, I need to learn how to change my own diapers, and she won’t do that until I’m ready.” Aunt Amanda nodded, “That’s true. Some adults, and even big kids, have problems getting to the potty, and they have to manage it by themselves. It is called, ‘incontinence’, but that doesn’t mean they are like little kids.” “It doesn’t?” I sounded very childlike, and innocent. “No honey; They can take care of themselves. It’s hard, and they need to be very responsible. I think that’s what your mommy meant when she told you that you weren’t ready for that.” She continued, “And to be honest, I think your mommy is right. You aren’t responsible enough. I know that you sometimes use the potty by yourself, so I know you can do it. However, big kids don’t just do that some of the time, they handle the potty by themselves all of the time. That’s what you still need to show me.” I didn’t get the answer I wanted, but I did get some perspective on my aunt’s thought process. It felt like she was seriously considering putting me in a diaper right there, and there was a part of me that wished she had. However, it was a big step. I still had to wear a diaper for six more nights, which would be almost three weeks in diapers. If she makes me wear one during the day, I might be in diapers all summer. I made it through the rest of the day without an accident, but the ever-perceptive Debbie noticed the frowny face on my chart. “Why does Tommy have a frowny face?” Aunt Amanda sighed, “Tommy went pee-pee in his pants today.” “Is he going to be a baby again?” My aunt gave Debbie a disapproving look. That was close to teasing, and teasing is not allowed. “Debbie! We don’t do that in this house.” Debbie deflected her eyes and mouthed, “Sorry.” I guess she was talking to me, but it didn’t seem directed at anybody in particular. My aunt replied, “No, Tommy still wants to be a big boy.” It was getting easier for me to pee in the diaper at night. I barely had to think about it before I started to pee. I was oddly proud of myself, but I couldn’t explain why. During the day, I was constantly flooded with doubt and anxiety. I felt out of place in the world. At night, I felt like a three-year-old with no responsibilities. I just needed one more accident, and I could get that feeling during the day as well. It dawned on me that I had to act now. In a few days, my aunt might give Scott another chance with Pull-ups. What if I’m wearing a diaper, and Scott gets to wear Pull-ups? I promised myself to pee in my Pull-up in the morning. Aunt Amanda barely acknowledged the soggy diaper that greeted her in the morning. She just said, “Let’s get you two some breakfast, and then I will get you ready for the day.” She cleaned me up carefully, handed me the Pull-Up, and said, “Try to use the potty today. I don’t want you to have any more accidents.” I replied, “Ok, I’ll try,” knowing full well that wasn’t going to happen. My aunt hugged me, “That’s wonderful, sweetheart.” I couldn’t help but notice the twinge of doubt in her voice. At this point, I wasn’t turning back. I was going to wet my Pull-up, and it was just a question of when. There was a part of me that wanted to get it over with, but it was like jumping off the diving board; I couldn’t take it back after it happened. I tried to pee in the morning, but I couldn’t. Jessica came over shortly after 10 o’clock, and the four of us went outside to play. I didn’t want to do it in front of Jessica, so I tried to put it out of my mind. Up until then, I thought I kept this a secret. As far as I knew, she didn’t know I was wearing a Pull-up. I suddenly felt the urge and began to pee, without thinking. I realized what I was doing and tried to stop, but I couldn’t stop peeing. I froze and hoped nobody saw what happened. Jessica noticed and asked, “Tommy, what did you do?” I answered, “Nothing. I was just thinking.” Jessica smirked, “I don’t think that’s it. I know that look. I think somebody peed his pants. Come over here, I need to check your Pull-Up.” “Um, I’m not wearing a Pull-Up.” My stammer and red face might have given it away. “Oh, please! Do you honestly think I haven’t noticed the Pull-ups? I can see the tabs above your waistband. Now come over here and let me check if you’ve had an accident.” “No.” Jessica was talking to me just like I was a petulant child and ordered, “No? Come here, I need to check your Pull-up.” She might have only been thirteen, but she knew exactly how to handle an ornery child. I screamed, “No!” And started to run. I didn’t get very far; Jessica caught me from behind and said, “Got you, you little stinker.” She put her hand on my shorts and said, “Tommy, you’re wet. Let’s tell your aunt.” I pulled away and cried, “No, I don’t want to.” She tugged back and said, “Tommy, you’re only making this bad for yourself. Be a good boy, or I’ll put you in time-out.” I shouted back, “You’re not my babysitter! You can’t put me in time-out.” Jessica snidely asked, “Should we ask your aunt about that?” Aunt Amanda walked outside; “What’s all of the commotion? What’s going on?” Debbie was eager to tell her mom what happened, but Jessica spoke first. “Mrs. Whitmore, I’m afraid Tommy had a little accident and needs another Pull-up. I can help him if you are busy.” It sounds stupid, but until then, it never dawned on me that Jessica could end up changing my diaper. She took care of Scott quite a bit, so it would make sense that she would do the same with me. Much to my relief, Aunt Amanda waved her off. “That’s very nice of you, but I can take it from here. Please keep an eye on Scotty and Debbie, while I’ll take care of Tommy.”
    3 points
  9. THE BREAST MILK BLUES “Good morning, Dear. Did you sleep well?” “Not really … tossed and turned all night. I need coffee, very hot and very black!” Sofia silently pointed at the coffee maker. The pot was almost full. “Couldn't get Rita's offer out of your mind?” “Yeah … that, and what she said about talking with Bian. She wasn't making a lot of sense, but it sounded like something bad happened to Ian during Tet. Rita's always so cool, calm and collected, but not last night. Mom, you could hear it in her voice. Whatever Bian said really got to her.” “If he was in Hue … well, that was ground zero, wasn't it?” Sofia was dredging up memories now more than a decade old. “I remember Walter Cronkite broadcasting from there, the marines having to retake the city street by street, house by house. It was brutal.” “But Ian wasn't in the Marines ...” “It's just another piece of the wall, isn't it?” Sofia's tone had turned distinctly bitter. “All those years as the Dominant in a D/s relationship, only to find out that your father was always hiding a big part of himself from me. Sarah, please … don't let Ian do that to you. Believe me, if you discover things the way I did, discover that the most important person in your life never trusted you enough to bare his soul? It hurts.” “I won't, mom; I promise you. I will see this through to the end. But you know what I was thinking about around 4 AM?” Sofia glanced at her daughter, and instantly caught the mischievous look in her eyes. Oh, this ought to be good. “I was thinking that … if the three of us were to pool our incomes, which must add up to something like a hundred and seventy-five thousand a year … we could sell Rita's townhome and buy a big place out on Lake Minnetonka … something on the lake shore with a big lawn and a dock, maybe a swimming pool. We could live like queens, maybe even hire a nanny to take Ian to and from work, watch over him during the day. That's if I decide to let him keep his job.” “I would suggest that you talk with him about that the first chance you get. Rita's right about the jungle telegraph, and the headhunters who will be heading Ian's way. I probably know some of their names,” she laughed. “Anyway, you want to respect Ian's wishes, but you also want to make it clear to him that this is your decision, not his. It's a classic case of you deciding what's best for your submissive, and then doing it. You get out in front-- and wear a skirt. His job is to hide behind it.” . . . . “Wakey, wakey, Princess! A new day awaits!” Reluctantly, Ian began to swim up out of the depths of sleep, not quite remembering whether it had been dreams or nightmares that disturbed his slumber. “I have a nice warm ba-ba for you, just as soon as we get that icky old diaper off you, clean your messy widdle bottom, and get you dressed for the day. Isn't your baby dress darling?” Who? Oh … Ian belatedly realized that it was Candy who was doing the honors this morning, efficiently unlocking his restraints. He was surprised to discover that his hands were already free of the mittens. Must have been sleeping better than I thought … He struggled in the narrow confines of the crib to get up on his elbows, but Candy instantly pushed him back down. “We want you to use the pull rope, Princess. It's much safer. You just pull yourself up hand over hand.” “That's it,” she soothed as Ian began to put arm muscles that shrieked in protest to work. Sitting up, he glanced curiously at the frilly pink baby dress hanging at the foot of his crib. This early in the day, it didn't immediately register that he was supposed to wear it. Ian hated mornings. Upon resigning his commission he had taken a vow to banish them from his personal calendar, and by and large he had succeeded. Even his extracurricular activities behind the Iron Curtain had never ushered him out the hotel door before nine-- not that there was much going on at that hour of the day in places like Bucharest and Moscow anyway. But life, in the form of an Assistant Chair, had played a cruel joke upon the departmental rookie. He had only learned in late August that he had been given an 8 AM class, and nothing infuriated him quite so much as knowing that he still had three full weeks of this crap to put up with. Taking the bus to work had been the crowning insult to the inglorious start of his career, such as it was. So, Ian was in a sour mood as he swung around to get down from his crib, and it didn't help that he could feel poop from the proverbial stem to the proverbial stern of his diaper. Climbing onto the changing table and having beautiful young Candy tickling him where it counted was something to look forward to, but on the flip side, memories of yesterday's Thanksgiving feast were busily bursting through the defenses that separated subconscious from conscious mind. They were a decidedly mixed bag. Ian had found himself sandwiched between Vickie on his left, and Amos on his right. As it turned out, Amos had taken more than one R&R in Hong Kong-- an admission that instantly led to microscopic comparisons of bars hither and yon. Both agreed that Hong Kong's bars sported some of the most beautiful women on the planet; more to the point, both agreed that the most beautiful of all worked the bar on top of the Sheraton at the bottom of Nathan Road. This was the moment when Amos, much to Rita's obvious displeasure, suggested that they adjourn to one of his hangouts down on Lake Street, said joints all opening for business on Thanksgiving Day at sixteen hundred hours on the dot. Ian was sorely tempted, but Vickie was currently shoveling food into her mouth with her left hand while languidly raking Ian's thigh with the fingernails of her right. Occasional bouts of polite conversation interrupted the left, but her right hand's assault was relentless, with spirited attempts to find a way inside the thigh bands of his de facto chastity belt slowly driving him nuts. Ian was so horny he could scream, but his thick diaper and locking diaper cover were merciless. At dinner's end, Rita had pointedly exiled Vickie until Saturday morn, leaving Marge to escort a thoroughly frustrated Ian back to his room. Belatedly realizing that he had hardly touched his food and was still starving, Ian had welcomed the twin bottles of breast milk that turned out to be his reward for a job well done. One more poopy diaper later, Ian was back in his crib, fully restrained, Marge having decreed curfew to be the ungodly hour of 7 PM. And now it's twelve hours later, I've spent much of it wallowing in my own shit, and I have a diaper rash. Wonderful. Although his diaper change was complete, and his diaper cover once again locked firmly in place, Candy left the Princess strapped down to the changing table just long enough to fetch her pretty dress. When she had the baby back on her feet, she slipped her arms through the puffed sleeves with their wonderful rows of pink and white frills, zipped her in, and snapped the lock shut. Stepping back to admire the view, she marveled at Vickie's exquisite taste. Her Princess was wearing a beautifully flared dress that barely reached to the top of her diapers … a dress covered all the way around with row after row of pink and white frills. Candy reached up to place an equally infantile bonnet on her head, and then bade her step into the matching rhumba panties, which completely covered her hideously institutional diaper cover. It was only at this point that nurse and patient eased to the floor, where two bottles of warm breast milk would begin Ian's day. “I want you to grade twelve more exams,” Candy cooed, “then you can have another ba ba … then another twelve and another ba ba. Auntie Rita wants Princess Poopy Pants to be nice and full and oh, so poopy when I take you to her office. She wants you to meet some of her friends. Won't that be fun, hmm? Won't that be fun?” Fun? Yeah, sure. Got news for ya, baby, I got the milk cow blues! Ian was definitely in a sour mood, and the breast milk was fueling it-- the same dark mood that had driven him to smoky jazz clubs in cities all over eastern Europe, where singing the blues was as much a rite of passage as listening to Radio Free Europe. It was in Warsaw that he had last heard Sleepy John's evocative version, the words swirling inside his brain alongside images of Sarah leaning over to change his diaper, and Vickie's response as he licked cranberry sauce off her chest: Now ask sweet mama, let me be her kid She says, "I might get buggies I couldn't keep it hid" Well, she looked at me, she begin to smile Says, "I thought I would use you for my man a while That you just don't let my husband catch you there Now, just, just don't let my husband catch you there" Since there were no husbands on the premises, Ian wasn't worried about being caught. Quite the contrary. He just wanted to be fed, real food in mountainous quantities. . . . . “Mom, I've never done a tour of duty in the OU, never mind neonatal. All I know about breast feeding is what I studied back in nursing school. Help me out here.” “Hmm … let me think.” Sofia decided to join Sarah in another cup of coffee. She was addicted to the stuff, caffeine being the drug that often got her through the day. “I guess the first thing to say is that it's doable. There are pills, and if you're religious about the breast pump, you will lactate. But there's no predicting how strong your flow will be, nor how long it will last. You may produce too little; you may produce too much. You will certainly be producing too much if all three of you are breast feeding him simultaneously. The milk bank in your hospital will get to know you well.” “Mom, what I really want to know is the, uh ... you know … the sex side of it.” “Intense. Really, really intense. When I was nursing your dad, it felt like there was a stream of hot lava flowing from my nipples to my clit. The orgasms were so powerful that intercourse paled in comparison. And he loved it. My milk really turned him on. It was the best sex in the whole of our marriage.” “Wow!” “But for the guy, the downside is that you feel like you're experiencing perpetual diarrhea. Your dad spent twenty-two months running to the toilet about six times a day.” Sofia chuckled, hard enough for coffee to dribble down her chin. “Sometimes he didn't make it!” “Did you put him back in diapers?” Sarah's eyes were as big as saucers. “Oh, I teased him about it, and we always had some to hand. But it wasn't our thing. So, no … not until the end, when he became incontinent. And that was hard because it was such a blow to his pride. You're lucky, you know? You're starting out, with your eyes wide open, where your dad and I finished. If you choose to breast feed, Ian will just be a bit more poopy than he already is. And the three of you will manage just fine.” “You want me to take Rita's offer, don't you?” “Pupu, it's your decision, but yes, I think it would be for the best. Thinking about your dad that last year … it's like seeing Ian's future. As he gets older, everything that he suffered on the battlefield is going to start taking its physical toll. It's not the incontinence. It's the pain … the arthritis. He's going to become a lot more dependent when he gets older … a lot more. You'll need help. The cold, hard truth is that you are going to outlive him.” “It's so unfair.” “It's life. But talking about Ian's health reminds me of one more thing, which may well cause this whole scheme to blow up in your collective faces.” “What's that?” “What you'll discover when you start dealing with the milk bank. Sarah, you'll have to do a blood draw every week. They will be screening for TB, cancer cells, but above all for hepatitis B and C. Breast milk is a remarkably efficient conveyance for sexually transmitted diseases. Neither you nor Rita will have a problem being monogamous, but what about Vickie? Her reputation is … how shall I put it? Colorful? Her lifestyle would place Ian in constant danger.” Sarah burst out laughing, a preposterous idea suddenly popping into her head. The perfect solution! “It's funny that you should say that, Mom, because another thing that kept me up last night was thinking about preconditions. If I'm going to share, then it will be on my terms-- strictly take it or leave it. Now I know exactly what I'm going to demand!” Sarah was about to explain when the telephone rang. Sofia prayed that it wasn't some emergency that would demand her personal attention-- not now, when the self-satisfied look on Sarah's face told her that something outrageous was in the offing. . . . . “Good morning, Sofia; it's Rita. Is Sarah up and about?” “I'll put her on speaker.” Sofia depressed a button, and then returned to her coffee. “Hi, girl; have you got a minute?” “Let me top off my coffee. How's Ian?” Watching the video feed coming out of room eleven, Rita chuckled. “Candy's got the duty this morning; I told Vickie to take the day off and ponder her sins. So, as we speak, Ian is laying in Candy's lap, slurping down his first two bottles of breast milk for the day. When he's finished, she'll stick a pacifier in his mouth, have him crawl over to the desk, and get to work grading a dozen exams. After the first round, he'll get another bottle before being put back to work, only this time without his pacifier. Then another bottle. We want to test whether the pacifier is a trigger for the way he moves back and forth between Princess Poopy Pants and Major Grady. And speaking of Princess Poopy Pants, you should see the baby dress that Vickie found for her to wear. It is beyond adorable. We have got to find her a matching pair of booties and get rid of the boat shoes. They spoil the look!” “So you are still running with the theory that one of his core personalities is female?” The more she learned about Ian, the more fascinated Sofia became. “Female,” Rita agreed, “and infantile. After what Bian told me, I suspect that we're dealing with transference … a coping mechanism that enabled him to remain sane on a night when he should have gone mad. For one awful night, I believe that they became mother and infant child, and that it was her deep love that literally kept him alive. Since then, he has used infancy as a refuge, and it's so pronounced because it gives him a convenient place to hide when he can't cope with whatever went so badly wrong later in the war.” “My God,” Sofia exclaimed. “Rita, please tell me that you are not going to treat him for this! Please!” “You'll destroy him,” Sarah wailed; “don't do this!!” “We won't! Trust me, both of you … WE WON'T!! I'm with Vickie on this. We lock in the Princess Poopy Pants personality, and we do it by treating him like a baby girl at every conceivable opportunity. Do you understand me? We want to reinforce this side of his personality, not undermine it! But I need your permission to do this, Sarah, in part because that's how your relationship with Ian works, but also because he simply isn't capable of seeing this through without your support and guidance.” “And what about his wall? Can we touch it, or not?” “We can … or rather, Princess Poopy Pants can. Vickie's game plan is sound, Sarah. The Princess attacks the Major, who has to come to her defense by telling her the truth, knowing that she will use it to end her spankings. But once the source of his shame is out in the open, he will have less reason to go into hiding. Then Princess Poopy Pants will gradually fade away, unless we take affirmative steps to create a rough balance between the adult male and the baby girl. Given the nature of your relationship with Ian, which everyone in the Circle supports, the latter is what I would recommend. There will be other crises in the future, more occasions on which he will need to run and hide.” “Do it,” Sarah snapped. She had no doubt about this whatsoever, not after her mother's warning. She had lost her grandfather and her father, both of them men who had gone to war. As a nurse, she knew that there would be very bad moments in Ian's future, and that the time to start preparing for them was now. “You are prepared to deal with a core personality that is both female and infantile?” Rita wanted this on the record. “I am.” Sarah knew exactly what Rita was doing. “Good. Now, I need your help with another matter. Gayle Soderberg will be here at ten o'clock, and she's bringing her Director with her. Harrison? Harris?” “Harrison Knowles.” It was Sarah's private opinion that, in the Kingdom of Jerks, Harrison Knowles was a crown prince. “How very Ivy League,” Rita muttered, never having met the man but catching the note of contempt in Sarah's voice. “Anyway,” she went on, “Soderberg will try and snap Ian up for Patient Relations, and in fairness they desperately need someone who is fluent in both English and Vietnamese. The only conceivable reason for Knowles to tag along is to wave an open checkbook in Ian's face. I'm guessing that, at a minimum, they'll offer to double … even triple … his salary. But I'm guessing that this is your decision, not Ian's, so how do you want me to play it?” “Turn them down flat! Ian doesn't give a damn about money. For God's sake, he's a teacher!” “Thank you, and for the record? For the record, I'm not going to let anyone get their hooks into Ian. I may do a bit of wheeling and dealing, but he's my patient and he's off limits. But I want to play this a certain way and I need your help to do it because it's going to be a very public humiliation for Ian.” “What?” Sarah just wanted her friend to get on with it. “I want to introduce Princess Poopy Pants to Soderberg and Knowles, baby dress and all. And with four bottles of breast milk in his system, each laced with fast acting and potent laxatives, the Princess is going to be poopy indeed, and stink to high heaven! For once, in short, I want to put our hospital wide reputation for being a bunch of crazies to good effect. I want these two nitwits to run out of this ward pinching their noses, and to tell everyone who'll listen that Ian is a lunatic who just happens to speak a whole bunch of foreign tongues. We keep Ian, and I make the damage to his reputation good with his department chair. Keith gives us a bigger budget because Marge keeps him abreast of what's really going on. I give her the credit, but I get to keep my job because I cut a deal with Glenn out at the VA. You and Vickie cure Ian, and the four of us live happily ever after.” “And you sell your townhouse, and we use the check as a down payment on a nice property on Lake Minnetonka.” “Works for me,” Rita agreed. “Then, let's do it, but I suggest that you let me speak to Ian before the curtain rises. I'll make it clear to him that his humiliation is my choice. In fact, I want him to fob off Soderberg by telling them that he wouldn't dream of making a decision this consequential without my approval. I want everyone to come out of this knowing that it's me they have to deal with, not Ian!” Rita clapped her hands. “PERFECT!! ABSOLUTELY PERFECT!!” “And the weird part of all this? Ian will enjoy his humiliation because he absolutely despises authority figures, and I can't think of a worse way to insult him than waving money in front of his face. He will rub it in!” “BETTER STILL! Oh, Sarah, how I wish you could be here to witness this ...” “Let's have a conference call afterwards, the four of us! “YOU'RE ON!” . . . . “It feels like I've come full circle,” Ian commented as he entered Rita's office and took the same seat that he had occupied less than forty-eight hours earlier. In some ways, however, it felt like a lifetime had passed. Candy had escorted him out of the secure ward, still wearing his infantile dress, rhumba pants and bonnet. The one thing that she had determined from the morning's evaluation was that the pacifier was not a trigger. With or without it, Ian's transition from infant to adult and back to infant again was seamless. Hence it did not surprise her in the least that Princess Poopy Pants had taken a back seat to Major Grady the moment they exited the ward. What did surprise her, and what she was going to stress in her report, was how you could actually see the transition in real time-- if you knew where to look. It's in his eyes. Princess Poopy Pants has dreamy eyes, eyes that are unfocused, eyes filled with trust and love. The Professor's gaze is sharply focused, but the Major's eyes are alert, wary, constantly scanning his environment. It's threat assessment, and it's autonomic … the human animal acutely aware that it is at once predator and prey. Candy knew the details of Vickie's complex battle plan, and fully endorsed the assault that she was undertaking. Using the Major's sense of duty against him, forcing him to yield ground to protect the Princess from harsh and undeserved punishment. It's brilliant … almost breathtaking. But then Vickie's far and away the best therapist I've ever seen in action. I was lucky to have her for my mentor … Becky and me both ... Candy sat the pink pacifier on the desk in front of Ian, but he made no move to pick it up. With an almost imperceptible shake of the head, she signaled Rita that this was a dead end. Then she quietly withdrew, leaving the two of them alone. . . . . Vickie was restless, prowling the confines of her apartment like a caged tiger. She was restless and frustrated and angry, although the anger was largely directed at herself. She had lost control, let her personal feelings run wild in the midst of a desperate, high-risk therapeutic gambit that had actually worked. The payoff was still uncertain, but Don Phillips was no longer catatonic. Ian had cracked him open, and now it was up to Rita to manage his care. And then there was Phil Kettering. Just thinking about Phil made her feel all warm inside. We actually saved one, the three of us working together. Becky, Vickie and Ian … the Three Musketeers. Before kicking her out of the ward, Rita had shared a bit of news that made Vickie feel like she could go out and conquer the world. Rita had spoken with Phil's parents. They were driving down from Hibbing to see their son … for the first time in almost ten years. The reunion would take place in the waiting room, under Becky's watchful eye. Vickie wondered how they would react to their future daughter-in-law. Vickie stumbled into the bathroom, gripped the edge of the counter hard with both hands, and stared at herself in the mirror. She grinned half-heartedly at the sleepdeprived creature she saw staring back at her, with its badly mussed hair and pallid skin. “Well, it's finally happened. The walls of Troy have been toppled. Victoria Ann Robinson has fallen in love. The once proud queen of the one-night stands has been vanquished, her heart captured by one Ian Samuel Grady, a soldier crippled in body, mind and spirit. And she never saw it coming.” Vickie decided to pull herself together. A leisurely bath to start, then work on her hair, do her make-up, find something nice to wear in her closet. She would go shopping at the mall-- after all, it was the day after Thanksgiving, and she could lose herself in the well-dressed crowds at the decidedly upscale Galleria. In the evening, she would wander the hotel lounges along the Strip, hoping to get a sense of just how much her world had changed. Of course the businessmen would all be home, celebrating the holidays with their families. There would be no improprieties to stain this, her farewell tour.
    2 points
  10. It's another steamy day here in the land of rain and humidity. I'm up in my office working on some month-end paperwork, in a Rearz Critter Caboose and a golf shirt. My wife has been up here a couple of times printing stuff, and has made no comment so far. The Critter Caboose is a fantastically comfortable and capacious product that seems to wear well in these cloying meteorological conditions - I was out cleaning my pool over lunch and I did not regret wearing it (I threw shorts on in deference to my neighbours' mental health). I like the combination of a golf shirt over a diaper - it's business up top, baby down below. I'm at the point in this adventure where wearing a diaper isn't the least bit distracting anymore. Indeed, I imagine that I get more done, because I don't have to get up and run to the washroom periodically. Although I guess I'd get even more done if I didn't sit down and write about my plastic underpants, whenever I have a break point in my work. But "this" contributes to my mental wellbeing, and that contributes, I assume, to my engagement with my work. That's my assertion, and I'm sticking with it.
    2 points
  11. BTW- Chapter names are just there as placeholders. It's kind of the first thing that pops in my head when I get to the next part. What should I do? Even though she didn’t say it, my mom thought I was wetting myself on purpose. Did she really mean it when she said that I wasn’t potty-trained? I was especially mad when she said that I was acting like a little kid, and she wanted my aunt to treat me like I was a baby. I couldn’t believe it when she said that I might stay in diapers a lot longer than just the summer. I wondered why I did this in the first place. I wished I’d never pooped my pants. I didn’t do that on purpose; that was a real accident. Everything would be normal if that didn’t happen. I wouldn’t have to wear Pull-ups and I wouldn’t have to sleep in a diaper. I asked myself, ‘Why did I want to pee in my diaper?’ That wasn’t an accident, nor was it when I peed my pants. I did that because I wanted to stay in diapers, which made no sense. What kid my age wants to wear diapers? Unfortunately, I didn’t feel like a typical teenager. I was a fourteen-year-old boy who was starting high school in a few months, but that’s not what I saw in the mirror. Physically, I didn’t look like a teenager. I wasn’t just small, I was undeveloped. The boys at my school bragged about their giant dicks, while mine was just a tiny bald little thing. Mine looked like it belonged to a little kid. Some of the boys in my class were shaving, but I didn’t even have peach fuzz. The friends I had in elementary school grew up, and I didn’t. I had a good friend named Jaxon; he was the only kid who knew that I wet my bed, and he kept my secret. I’m older than him, but he was always one of the bigger kids. He was always bigger, but by eighth grade, he towered over me. He was big, even for an adult. He wore size 13 shoes, and I wore size 6. We didn’t share many things in common anymore, so we stopped hanging out together. His friends were jerks anyway, so I tried to avoid them. I wanted to be cool, but I didn’t know how. I pretended to like girls, but I wasn’t really interested, at least in that way. The girls didn’t seem all that interested in me either, other than the ones who treated me like a little brother. Some kids thought I was gay, but I didn’t think about boys that way either. I just spent my time pretending that I was a famous athlete, or whatever cool thing I could think of. That’s fine when you’re nine-years-old, but not at fourteen. At first, I wanted to punish my mom for what she said. I thought about going into full baby mode. If they were going to treat me like a baby, I would become a huge brat. I would cry, throw tantrums, and do all the things that babies do when they get upset. I soon realized that wasn’t going to work, and it was better if I just proved them wrong. I had to prove that I wasn’t just some little kid who needed diapers; I was a teenager who needed independence and respect. However, that’s not who I was. My mom constantly nagged me to do my chores and then complained that I didn’t do them properly when I finally completed them. Aunt Amanda took a different route. At the end of the week, she gave me money for each chore I completed. She had to inspect it to make sure it was done correctly, but I got credit for the chore. I didn’t have to do them unless I wanted the money. It was the same for Debbie, but hers were simpler and she didn’t get as much money. I could have earned $20 for cleaning the garage, while Debbie got $1 for setting the table. At the end of the week, Debbie made three times more money than I did. I tried to be a big kid that day. I knocked a chore off the list; I vacuumed the living room. It took me four times to pass the inspection, but I finally met my aunt’s expectations. At the same time, I watched Scott happily play on the floor. He wasn’t allowed to do any chores and didn’t get an allowance. That was reserved for big kids. My aunt doted over him while changing his wet diaper, which made me jealous. I had a strange dream that night. It was about the last time I wore diapers for an extended period. I was five years old, and we went to Asia for vacation. I remember wearing diapers on the plane. I still wore diapers at night, but I didn’t wear them in the daytime anymore, and that felt weird to me. I remember that these were diapers and not Pull-ups. I had some accidents, so I had to wear diapers for the rest of the trip, which was three weeks. That’s a long time for a five-year-old. I also remember getting lost at the airport and getting put in a stroller. This wasn’t a bad memory. It was pleasant, and I didn’t care that I had to wear diapers or sit in a stroller. I woke up in a wet diaper. Having a real accident put me in a strange place. It’s hard to explain, but I used to feel special after I wet my bed. It was like a part of me was still a baby, and I didn’t want it to go away. I felt the same that morning, but I didn’t get yelled at, and I wasn’t covered in pee. After lunch, I went outside to play while my cousins took their naps. I purposely didn’t use the bathroom, and I drank two glasses of lemonade before heading outside. I was playing in a puddle when I felt the first twinge in my bladder. I told myself to let go and started to pee. I felt the warmth spread in the padding. It felt different than the cloth diapers my aunt used at night. The Pull-up was about to leak, but I kept peeing. I don’t know if my aunt was watching me, or just sensed that I had an accident. She called to me, “Tommy, come over here. I need to check your Pull-up.” I didn’t even have a chance to tell her. I was surprised, and given my condition, I was reluctant to let her see. I don’t know why I was reluctant; she was going to find out eventually. The Pull-up was close to leaking and I needed to change. How did I ever think I would get that past my aunt? I cried, “What? Why?” “You haven’t used the potty since lunch, and I need to see if you’re still dry.” I didn’t want to admit the truth. I answered, “I’m dry, and I did go. I just forgot to tell you.” “That doesn’t matter, I need to check your Pull-Up right now!” This was her no-nonsense voice, and I could tell she was out of patience. I huffed, “Ok,” and trundled over to her. I thought she would be angry when she felt my soggy Pull-up, but she wasn’t. “Oh dear, you’re wet. Is that why you didn’t want me to check?” I shot my eyes down and mumbled, “Yes.” My aunt acted like it was just an accident. “I guess you didn’t know, but you’re supposed to tell me when you have an accident sweetie. If you hide an accident again, you’ll go right back to diapers. Is that understood?” I felt guilty and looked like I was going to cry. Aunt Amanda gently hugged me and said, “It’s ok honey. Sometimes kids have accidents when they are learning to use the potty. Let’s get you cleaned up.” It was the same process that she always did, making sure to thoroughly clean and dry everything before handing me another Pull-up. She warned, “Tommy, you can’t be a big boy if you don’t use the potty. If you have any more accidents between now and Monday, we have to pause your potty training. You’ll go back to diapers.”
    2 points
  12. Well, most of that 900 staff are probably busy playing with their "staff".
    2 points
  13. Hello Babs and Bigs (and all others!) I've been pulled out of the woodwork by The 3rd Kasarberang Story Contest! The NON-CONtest #3 ! Seriously, a thousand thanks to Kasarberang for these, otherwise I would probably never get the gumption to write. Now, I know the contest has very specific themes, and I've selected a couple of them, but they're secret for now, 'kay? I'll add them as tags later, but you don't want to spoil your appetite! So, here I am with a new tale, perhaps a bit based on a somewhat recent horror film, but it's already rapidly evolved into its own thing. With no further ado, here's the first course of "The Kids Menu" First Course - Amuse-Bouche “That’s not even the best part,” Tyler continued, passionately oversharing about his most recent obsession. Sarah smiled widely, her long light auburn hair whipping in the sea breeze, but her attention never broke from Tyler. She reveled in every little excited motion he made as he fixated on every fine detail of his story. She gave every outward appearance of profound interest, laughing, gasping, and even giving him light touches at the right moments, but the truth was it was at best a mild distraction from what had occupied her mind for months leading up to their date. But Tyler was none the wiser, carrying on what was one of the best conversations he had in years, with someone who but days before was a total stranger. It had to mean something, a deep connection, a kindred soul, maybe even love at first… The boat’s horn blew, ending both of their reveries, and turning their attention forward. The nearby conversations ceased just as abruptly, as the dozen passengers took in their destination. The private island that would serve as their paradise for the weekend was almost supernaturally beautiful. The crystal clear emerald waters lapped on the soft sand beach, from which a short wooden dock awaited their vessel. The sun dipped just behind the lush tree line, providing shade for the dock while keeping the sand warm. As the boat began to dock, Tyler could barely make out the path through to their villas and the main hall which would serve as their communal eating area for the duration of their stay. While he sat there taking in the sights, Sarah stood up and leaned over the boat’s railing, watching as a school of brightly colored fish darted past. “Ty, come look!” she shouted, pulling his attention towards her. His head whipped towards her, his shaggy sandy blonde hair falling in his eyes. As his hand wiped his vision clear, he froze and went red in the face. The short pale blue sundress that had framed Sarah’s assets quite nicely until now, had ridden up far enough that even the gentle breeze threatened to flash him. “Sarah! Y-y-y-,” he stammered, hiding his eyes, and gesturing furiously for her to come down. Sarah giggled inwardly, but feigned shock, yanking her dress down and shuffling over to Tyler. “My hero,” she whispered, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek. His blush only intensified, but was accompanied with a genuine smile. She milked the moment by resting her head on his shoulder, a safe spot for a quick gaze to confirm a certain stiffening in his pants. Had she been a better person, she might have felt bad for how easily she was playing him, but things being what they were, she was loving every second of this. And, so far, so was he. Tyler would have been content staying in that moment for the whole weekend, but as the other passengers emptied out, he caught the skipper’s eyes and realized it was past time they get moving. He opened his mouth to speak such to his date, but as brief scenarios of saying the wrong thing flashed in his mind, he choked back the words. Again he opened his mouth, and shut it just as fast. He repeated this cycle for nearly a minute before Sarah decided he had suffered enough and lifted her head, miming a stretch. “Ty, babe, we shouldn’t keep them waiting,” she instructed him after taking an exaggerated look around, “it’s rude.” While he processed the change in tone, she stood up first and offered him a hand up. Not thinking any better of it, he meekly took it and stood to realize the rising problem in his pants. As he tried to pull his hand down to try and reposition or cover himself, she pulled his hand harder, and before he knew it they were both on the dock, in full view of everyone else. Without taking time to properly orient himself, he spun away from the group in front of him, and ran into a towering woman. Stumbling, he found himself caught by her firm, yet gentle hand. Her scent clung to him, sweet and strange, foreign and fruity. “Aren’t you an eager one?” she asked rhetorically, talking about him, but addressing the crowd more than she was him. She bent down slightly, both giving him ample view of her more than ample chest, and bringing her eyes nearly in line with him. “Just be careful where you point that thing, okay dear?” Having lost almost all higher brain function, Tyler nodded sheepishly. After feeling a firm prodding in his back from Sarah, he added “Y-yes ma’am.” “Miss Margot,” the woman before him corrected immediately. Tyler’s mouth hung open, his head listing to the side slightly. “It’s ‘Yes, Miss Margot’,” she said, pinching his jaw between two fingers. “Y-e-s,” he formed the sounds as she moved his mouth, “M-i-s-s M-a-r-g-o-t.” “Excellent,” she said dropping his jaw and pulling herself back up to full height and addressing everyone but him once again. “During your stay on my island, you are my guests, and welcome to all of its amenities. However, as your host, I do insist on at least some… decorum. The very least of which, is to refer to me as Miss Margot,” she turned her attention back to Tyler, “understood?” “Yes Miss Margot,” everyone echoed back with varying levels of enthusiasm. Some shouted it joyfully. Others recited it calmly. Tyler for his part barely broke a mumble. The introduction seemingly now complete, Sarah slipped her hand in his, and led the two off the dock along with the other guests. As they walked, she snuck a look back at Miss Margot and mouthed ‘thank you’, getting a gentle smile in return. The two continued to walk hand in hand across the beach, then down a shaded path to the heart of the island. Far ahead, a guide-woman explained the layout and features of the resort, but none of it registered with Tyler, and Sarah didn’t seem to pay it much interest. When they did arrive at the site of the main hall, Sarah split off from the group, still leading Tyler by the hand. The walk had done his head some good, but he hadn’t been able to reemerge from the shell his frightened psyche had retreated into. For now, his only link to the world around him was Sarah’s soft fingers, wrapped around his. It was more than enough. They quickly arrived at a beautiful villa. Thatched siding and roofing hid the modern materials employed in its construction, a solitary skylight breaking the illusion. The whole thing stood more than his head’s height off the ground on thick wooden pillars. As she led him up the rustic stairs to the doorway, he noticed the villa wasn’t as freestanding as it looked at a glance. A hallway ran, camouflaged, to the main hall, joining with one other along the way. He incorrectly assumed this was a matter of convenience, a way for them to reach the central hub of activity for the resort without leaving the comfort of the indoors. It did but that was only a secondary benefit. The door handle chimed as Sarah touched it, stealing Tyler’s attention from the hallway, and a moment later the cool air conditioning spilled out of the open door. “Magic touch,” she commented, waving at him with the fingers of her spare hand, then pulling him the rest of the way inside. The door swung shut quietly until it was closed, when a heavy lock clicked automatically into place. Sarah flopped onto the spacious bed in the center of the room, pulling Tyler down beside her. The two lay in silence for a long minute, still holding hands. “I’m glad, uhm,” Tyler lost his words as quickly as he found them, happy to return to the restful silence. “Me too,” Sarah replied, turning towards him, propping herself up on an elbow. “Not every day you get whisked away for a weekend in paradise by a beautiful woman you met just days before on a silly dating app, is it?” Tyler laughed, feeling the weight lift off his chest, lighting off more than just the day’s worries, but feeling free from what had become almost a lifetime of regrets. Regrets that washed back in like a wave of the sea, weighing him down once more. Noticing him tense back up, Sarah kissed his cheek. “I’ve got just the thing,” she said, getting up and strolling to the mini-bar. “There’s a fruit that grows here. Like, only here,” She explained while mixing various juices. “It’s called Heartfruit,” she paused, lifting up a plump, pink fruit that, true to its name, looked like a cartoon heart, “and it’s really quite fascinating, both medicinally and culinarily.” She tossed the fruit to him and one bumbling catch later, he examined the softball sized fruit. The skin wasn’t just thick, but hard and smooth, almost like a candy coating. “The skin, meat, juice, and seeds each have their own unique properties,” she continued, vigorously mixing the drink, “including some pretty fascinating neurological benefits.” Tyler sat up a bit at that word, ‘neurological’. Despite his years of undiagnosed depression, he recoiled at the idea of anything that might unknowingly alter his brain. It may not work right, but at least it was a misery he understood. So he barely drank more than a single beer in any given month, and would have been too afraid to get high, had anyone ever offered him the chance. He set the Heartfruit down on the bedside table, and dug for any excuse not to partake. Sarah finished mixing the drink and turned around to see the rising panic in Tyler’s eyes. She set the drink down and knelt in front of him at the foot of the bed. “Ty?” she asked, slowly raising a hand to pull his face towards hers. Tyler began to sniffle and cry. He was about to blow it again, lose everything all because he couldn’t stop being such a fool. When he felt her hand press against his cheek, he sniffled hard, and looked at her. He paused, then sniffed again. His tears cut off rather suddenly as his brain tried to piece together the strange smell. It had a sweetness to it, like a… foreign fruit. “That’s a good boy,” Sarah said, lifting the glass to his lips, and helping him drink down the Heartfruit cocktail. Tyler didn’t, couldn’t resist.
    1 point
  14. Hello everyone, this is a new story I'm writing, picking some suggestions from a previous topic I made and of course some personal details. I want to try to do something new and try writing with Points of View characters, I want to check out if I'm capable of giving different inner voices to different personalities. I'll be starting with two, might add more in the future. Some details. 1 - My stories feature Mini-Giantess and extremely short men, so if you don't like that please feel free to ignore this thread. 2 - This story is set in a world similar to Earth but just not it, just to avoid me the struggle of being consistent with education laws of a specific country. I know nobody would care about that but I would ENJOY! NOEMI I She couldn't believe she was finally out of that stinkhole of a place its inhabitants call a town. She was entering University, and in a large city at that! Finally no more meeting the same 3 people everyday, finally she could go dancing, she could go to the theatre, she could go to concerts, ANYTHING. Hell, if she wanted she cou- THOMPH! "Wa-was I hit by a truck?" Noemi wasn't a small gal. Not even for girls standards. Yes, women were indeed usually a 2 or 3 feet taller than men, but standing at 7'9 she was ESPECIALLY tall, even more so for someone who was 18. Most women don't stop growing until they are 30, but have a severe deceleration at 25; doctors have however predicted her probably not to stop before reaching 9 feet at the very least, making her one of the tallest women in the world. She looked down at the man who she hit. He was probably around her age or a bit older. It was always hard to say with men, considering their facial features don't change much after reaching the age of 20 and keep being basically the same until their late 40s. She helped him getting up, he was quite chubby and about average in height, not taller than 3'7. "I'm sorry I wasn't paying attention, I was just marveling at this place! It's huge!" he scraffled the dust away from his own body and then talked. "No worries, mate. It was my fault to pass in the women's corridor, I was kinda in a hurry and well..." "Noemi." she said firmly, shaking his hand. "George!" "Nice to meet you George! You said a WOMEN's corridor?" "Ay! It's for men's safe to have them separated, to avoid specifically what has just happened to us ahah!" "Yes. That's correct. And you should have known better, Mister." a deep womanly voice came from behind's Noemi's shoulders. It was an older woman, probably around 28 or 30, quite short for a gal, around 6'8, but the authoritative composure, the way she was dressed, accompanied by her frowning made her look twice as large. Noemi had seen her face when online when she was applying to the University. She was one of the assistant of one of her professors. "S-sorry Mrs. Flennigan, it-it won't happen anymore." he excused himself sheepishly, looking down. "I'm sure it won't. Or else." <Quite stern.> Noemi thought, but realized that probably men had been trampled over before this ruling was established. <Poor George.> "So... I'm going to my place. See you around I guess. Try not to die?" she said as she was leaving. Why the hell did she say that!? It was so unnecessary! Well, what was done was done. She walked off throughout the immense chambers of the University. What George said was true. She noticed there were a dark red path, burgundy coloured and a baby blue one, each going to different directions, but both reaching the various classes. The burgundy one was the one that was made for women, and it was noticeable. While the classrooms were common for everyone, there was no necessity for men's roofs to be as tall as those for women, so the baby blue corridors were much less high in order to save money to construct the building. Noemi had read that many Universities were built like that ever since they started allowing both men and women studying together. She kinda wanted to sneak in into the baby blue corridor, seeing all the little guys together was kinda cute and she wanted to steal them, but it was not something you want to do on your first day. Eventually, she reached her room. As she entered, she saw her roommate. And more. "Hey gal! Woah you're gorgeous! You must be my new sister in arms, uh? Welcome to my coven, babe! How tall are you? Woah!" this woman was already way more energetic than she expected to find, but she didn't mind. In fact, she liked it. If there was one thing that Noemi didn't like in people was unfriendliness, and at least on a surface level this woman didn't seem to have that in her. "I'm tall... a lot ahah! I'm 7'9, but I'm aiming for the stars! I'm Noemi! Nice to meet you and... your friends?" she had three men sleeping in her bed with her. All cozed up around her body, they looked like puppies trying to heat themselves up around their mama-dog. "Laura, and yeah, those are my friends. I swear nothing indecent happened here. We just were watching a film together and they fell asleep, aren't they the cutest?" "I wouldn't have minded, y'all adults and free to do what you please." "Nono, we are just friends, I swear, but hey! I feel the same!" "Good, 'cause I'm planning to get some for myself ahahah!" Noemi wasn't the shiest person herself. She wasn't a nymphomaniac by any means, but she liked having erotic activities. Especially lactation. Ever since she started lactating it had become a huge kink for her. Her breasts were immense even for someone her size, and became even more engorged now that they were filled with milk. "Won't they get mad if you take men in your room though?" "Nah, as long as you're the one carrying them around, people don't really mind. So..." Laura gently got up and tidied her friends under the sheets, making sure not to wake them up. Now that she was standing, Noemi noticed that she was pretty big herself. She was 7'3 at the very least, but also very bulky; she definitely was in a fighting sport. "Let's get out of here; I wanna show you around."
    1 point
  15. I know it's still a couple of months until halloween, but we can have fun a little early. Can't we? If this is your first Nikki & Sarah story, you might want to read the previous ones first. Here's a list: Nikki & Sarah - Index thread ------------------------------------------------ Hidden truths in plain sight Part 1 of 4 "You want to dress up as what?!?" Sarah looked incredulously at Nikki who just continued eating the slice of raspberry pie in front of her. They were sitting in a corner booth at a diner, having lunch after doing some Saturday shopping "Oh come on, it'll be fun," Nikki said around a mouthful of pie. "Plus, couples' costumes are really cute." "But Tinkerbell and Wendy? Tinkerbell and Peter Pan makes sense. Or Peter Pan and Wendy. Tinkerbell and Wendy just barely get along." "That's the whole point." Nikki tapped her temple with a finger. "I have a plan." "Oooo-kaaay," Sarah said warily. "What? Don't you trust me?" Sarah put on an exaggerated hurt expression and pouted, causing Sarah to chuckle. "Of course I do." Sarah reached across the table to stroke Nikki's cheek. "But some of your plans are kinda embarrassing." "Maybe, but you like it." Nikki turned her head and kissed Sarah's palm. "Don't you?" A blush crept up Sarah's face. "Well?" "Yes Ma'am," Sarah whispered, barely audible. "Good girl," Nikki said and lifted the final piece of pie to her mouth. A minute later, after having finished the last of her coffee, Nikki took Sarah's hands in hers. She leaned closer across the table and whispered: "Do you need to be changed yet?" Sarah's blush was renewed. Wearing a diaper while going shopping on Saturdays had become a more and more regular occurrence the last couple of months. The only times Nikki didn't insist on her wearing them was when they were getting something that Sarah needed to try on without the diapers. However, she never wet the diapers until they were back home or, on a few occasions, in the car on the way back. That didn't stop Nikki from asking if she was dry while they were out. In some cases she even insisted on checking. "You know I'm dry. I'm always dry," Sarah whispered back. "Don't take that tone with me, little girl," Nikki said sternly. "I have four feet of paracord and a carabiner in my bag. I will hook a leash to that collar of yours if you don't behave." Sarah knew it was an empty threat, but just hearing it made her conscious of the collar around her neck. It was still one of their ground rules that if Sarah wore her diapers, she would also wear her collar. During the summer months, hiding the collar had become an exercise in futility, so they had switched to a narrow cloth choker with a little cameo brooch on. Sarah liked it so much that she had taken to wearing it when she didn't have to wear a collar. She had even worn it to work a few times. But now that the weather was chilly enough to justify sweaters and that meant that hiding beneath Sarah's turtleneck was the plain leather collar they had bought last winter. "I'm sorry Ma'am," she said contritely. "I'll behave." "Good, because we're not leaving here until you actually do need a change." "You want me to..." Sarah paused for a moment, "...wet myself right here? In public? Why?" "Because you're a good little girl and I'm your..." Nikki let go of Sarah's hands. "You're my mommynatrix," Sarah finished with a sigh. Nikki smiled at the silly title. "Damn straight. And good little girls do what they're told." "Yeah, but here? The car is one thing. We're alone there. But there's people here. They'll notice. And what if there's a leak? And..." Sarah rambled. Nikki put a finger to Sarah's lips. "Shhh." She took Sarah's hands in hers again. "Look at me sweetie. Nobody's going to notice." Sarah closed her eyes and Nikki could almost see her brow furrow with concentration. After a while she sighed. "I can't do it," she said and slumped back in her seat. "Don't be upset sweetie," Nikki said. Then she slid around the table to sit next to Sarah. "Just sit back and relax." Sarah leaned against Nikki and rested her head on her shoulder. She took Sarah's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "Do you have to go?" Nikki asked. "Yeah, but I just can't do it here." "That's OK sweetie." Nikki just stroked the back of Sarah's hand with her thumb. "Just relax; don't try to force it. Try to think about something else." "Like what? It's a little like telling me not to think of pink polar bears." Sarah emptied her glass of water in two gulps. "Tell me the plan." "What do you mean?" "Why do you want to dress up as Tinkerbell?" Nikki laughed. "Sweetie, I'm not Tinkerbell. You are. I'm Wendy." "Huh?" "You know how Halloween is a chance to let a different side of you out?" "Mm-hm." "Well, you've read Peter Pan, right?" "Nope. Only seen the cartoon." "Same thing. You know how Wendy basically becomes a substitute mother for Peter and the lost boys?" "I suppose," Sarah said warily. "I want to show off our secret side without anybody figuring it out." "So you're going to be Mommy Wendy, but why would I be Tink? And how does she fit into this?" Nikki shrugged. "Well, when she's jealous of Wendy, she does behave like a bit of a brat. I'm pretty sure that both Peter and the lost boys would think she's being really childish." "So you want me to wear...?" "Yep." Nikki nodded. "Big ones." "But people will see them." "That's the whole point. That's why we have the whole Mommy Wendy and Bratty Tink explanation. Nobody's going to expect you to have real diapers on underneath the costume ones." "What?!?" Sarah sat up and looked at Nikki. "Are you serious?" "That's why we're doing this," Nikki said calmly. "Look, we both know you like wetting your diapers. Right?" Sarah blushed. "Yeah," she admitted sheepishly, casting a quick glance around the nearly empty diner to see if anybody could hear them. "And this is like the one day of the year when you can get away with wearing giant diapers in public. And using them." "But you know I can't do it. I mean, at home or in the car is one thing, but in public?" "That sweetie," Nikki kissed Sarah's forehead, "is why we're practicing." "Practicing?" "It's two weeks until Halloween. Every day between now and then, I want you to wear a diaper and wet it while you're out in public," Nikki said quietly. "Every day?" "Yep." Sarah looked mortified at what Nikki said. "But... but..." "Can you think of another way of getting over that particular mental hurdle?" Sarah sighed. "No," she admitted. "So are you going to be a good little girl and do as you're told?" "Yes Ma'am," Sarah said demurely. "But can we go outside? Maybe it's easier to do it while standing?" Nikki considered what Sarah said. "OK," she finally said, "but then you're not getting changed until we're going to the car." "And how long is that?" "I'm not telling you. Do we have a deal?" Sarah nodded hesitantly. "OK." Nikki signaled the waitress for the check and while they waited, she moved back around the table. "So, do you really have paracord and a carabiner in your bag?" "Why?" "It just makes me wonder how you run your office." Sarah grinned mischievously. "See? This is why you'll be perfect as a little bratty Tinkerbell." Nikki paid and left a generous tip before getting up. "Now, come along." *** A while later, Nikki and Sarah were leaning on the railing of the mezzanine, looking at the people milling around below them. They had been making up little stories about them, each one more outlandish than the one before. A couple walking arm in arm were suddenly adulterers cheating on their respective spouses, a woman in a big, fuzzy jacket became a closet furry and a man checking out the window display in a Victoria's Secret store became a cross-dresser who acted out scenes from Rocky Horror Picture Show with his collection of dolls in his bedroom. Sarah had been particularly proud of the chuckle she got out of Nikki with that last one. "Nikki?" Sarah said. "I've been thinking." "Oh that's never a good start," Nikki replied with a smirk. Sarah stuck out her tongue. "Seriously." "OK, What've you been thinking about?" "My safeword. I think I might need another one." "You want to change it? It's not like that's a big deal. What do you want instead of 'Mongolia'?" "No, not a new one; an extra one." "Huh? Why?" "Well," Sarah said, all of a sudden looking painfully awkward. "When I say 'Mongolia', that's a signal to stop right away." Nikki nodded. "But what if I want to keep going, just not take it further. Like, if we're at 8 and you're about to take it up to 9 and I don't want to, 'Mongolia' would stop he whole thing, but I want to keep going at 8, just not escalate. Does that make any sense or am I just rambling?" Sarah finished, almost out of breath. "I see what you mean. You want something that says 'Don't stop, but don't take it further'. Sort of half a 'Mongolia'." "Exactly." Sarah nodded. "OK, how about we just pick one of Mongolia's neighbours then?" Nikki pulled out her phone and googled Mongolia. "That'd be Russia or China." "I don't know. Those would just feel weird to use." "Yeah," Nikki agreed. "Well, it almost borders on Kazakhstan." "Yeah, the thought of Borat doesn't really keep me in the mood for our kind of fun. How about 'Attila'? That'd work, right?" "Sure, but not to be nit-picky; Attila wasn't Mongolian. That was Ghengis Khan." Nikki grinned, finally having out-triviaed Sarah. "Whatever. Attila is easier to remember." Nikki nodded slowly. "OK, just to be completely clear: Mongolia means 'stop everything' and Attila means 'don't stop, but don't go any further'?" "Yeah," Sarah's gaze went back to the people below. Nikki noticed a stick-thin woman who exited a bakery carrying several cake boxes stacked on top of each other. She was just about to reveal the woman's secrets which involved naked pie fights and numerous cans of whipped cream and chocolate sprinkles, when she noticed that Sarah had become uncharacteristically quiet. Not wanting to lose track of her next story target, Nikki glanced quickly at Sarah. The faraway look on Sarah's face made her forget about the woman below. She inched closer until their shoulders almost touched and nudged Sarah gently. "Are you...?" she asked. "Mm-hm," Sarah replied dreamily, her eyes half-closed. Nikki waited until Sarah recovered, then she whispered so none of the passers-by would hear, "Do you need to be changed?" Sarah shook her head. "No, not yet. It was just a little." "OK." Nikki paused, then she realised something. "You're going to do it again, aren't you." Sarah blushed. "At home it's a lot easier once the diaper is already a little wet. I want to see if it's the same now." It was.
    1 point
  16. I am so tired of passing gas and all my wife smells is baby powder.
    1 point
  17. There is a whole industry using oil and coal called "petrochemicals" for plastics, medicines etc Also, you can get natural rubber. The alternatives generate far more of the dreaded "greenhouse gases" which are not even a real issue in global climate anyway; they come in a distan third and CO2 is a minor issue. Water vapor is about 1.5 times as strong a greenouse gas and, on average, 10 times more present in the atmosphere. This is just another leftist scam to get more power over persons' lives. we can do absolutely zip about the two major climate controllers which are cyclical in nature and ditto 95% of the CO2 entering the atmosphere as most of it comes from undersea volcanoes and vulcanism is the second most powerful climate controller as to the first, google up "little ice age" and "maunder minimum". And when you get to the point that you are trying to control cow farts becuase of the methane, you have definitely reached the cuckoo-for-cocoa-puffs mark on the looney toones graph: Th-th-th-that's all; folks I am getting tired of Protex's antics
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  18. I was in it about 30 yrs ago, unless you are a real aggressive sales person you will not make it at all. They made us bo to all these out of town presentations of all of the stars of Amway. It cost money to pay for the motel, food, everything , and they say oh it's all a tax rite off. Well you can rite it all off, but we never made even 10% of what we paid out . I do understand they now have made it an online streaming to save you and you can sell online etc. But all we did was pay and pay, and yeah we made some sales. They are or were their own private community had those things like I would like to call a locker room rah rah to make you feel like you will make it. Bottom line some will make it but they make it off the people that you recruit and you get them to use all of the products and you get points from it etc etc. Like I said if you are a really good sales person ...........
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  19. Thank you so much for your feedback and support! This really means a lot to me! Next chapter is coming very soon, I'm pretty much done with it. I'm glad I found the motivation to keep writing this story after years of it being on ice.
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  20. First update now 29.07, as it has been roughly 7 days of constant wearing. I changed my mind a bit and decided just to plunge into wearing the slip supers all the time as daytime diaper. Ive been practicing wetting the diaper while lying down for 20 minutes before going to bed and 15 minutes every morning, and even though I still find this position a bit awkward, there is progress. Wearing to work the first week has been suprisingly fine. Allthough things did take for the worse on thursday when the bathroom Ive been using had its lock broken, so when its change time I have to use another one that also has another bathroom beside it, where the other occupant might hear something. For changing Ive been aiming for around 4-5h, to avoid any skin issue, even if the diaper is not well used. Last in this update is a few stats from the diaperstash app: Favorite diaper: Tena slip maxi. I have an abundance of these at the moment, so they have been my go to diaper while at home after work. This will change once I get my first shipment of the slip plus. Total diapers used the first week: 36. At the moment I am roughly going through 5 diapers in average per day. 34 of these were wet, while two were dry when waking up in the morning and unable to make myself go while lying down before work. Average time per change: 4h,35m. Well within my goal for diaper changes. For the next week I will continue my practice to wet in different positions.
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  21. Just stumbled across this story and it's amazing. I had to laugh at the Dante reference as, in college, we had an English professor who was so difficult, that someone once made a banner with "All ye who enter here, abandon all hope" with an arrow pointing to his classroom. He taught world literature and linguistics and I remember we had to read transformational generative grammar by Noam Chomski. That was almost as boring as some of the stuff I had to read in my graduate psychology program. looking forward to reading books 2 and three when we get back from New Mexico.
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  22. James is such an annoying protagonist because he is such a drama queen. Kids move all the time. It happens. My best friend had to move right before his Senior year in high school because his dad had to change jobs, It sucked, but kids move on. There is something seriously wrong with James that he is that self-destructive At the same token, this place is a bit like the Star Trek episode: Eye of Beholder. It's benevolent. There doesn't seem to be anything ethically that THYME is doing, but it's dystopian. James is a bad cog and bad cogs are not allowed. It seems like a familiar theme, but I don't think I've ever seen it in ABDL fiction. @Les Lea, just a wonderful job.
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  23. So James finds out what E4 is, i am certain he does not want to know what E10 is about. Thanks for the new chapter. Maly.
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  24. You do realize the person posted this a decade ago, yes?
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  25. My mommy uses them for extra protection when the scenario is that she’s training me, a frequent choice of mine in our role playing repertoire. She adds plastic pants for extra protection because I’m not supposed to go in my diaper, such that, if I do, then I’ll wear it to the point that it becomes uncomfortable, I will wish I’d listened, and the furniture won’t be affected. But, honestly, wet and worse diapers just feel great to me, and mommy always has me in a fresh diaper before I ever want to be!
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  26. Those are Huggies from probably the mid 80s. Probably size 1 or 2.
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  27. Hi and welcome to DD. Nice to meet you, glad to have you here with us. Come in, make yourself at home. There’s lots of good likeminded people here. The closest I’ve been to any mommy/caregiver nursery experience was, my ex wife. We had some playtime experiences, but not enough. The best you can do, is enjoy what there is to offer here, till maybe you meet that someone. It’s not easy, but we do the best we can. Relax, have fun, and enjoy!
    1 point
  28. This was the last chapter I originally had, which means I'm done with translation! This means that from now on, anything else I post here is gonna be brand new content. Thank you for coming along for the ride with me! I hope you guys are enjoying this story! Chapter 5: Taking a stroll My wish ends up being fulfilled a few days later. At first I see my mom entering the room with a large wheelchair. It’s the type of wheelchair that went up very high with head support and straps all over. I am guessing it’s for me and I can feel my anxiety rising. Sitting on my bed with Soraya or Anita holding me is one thing, but getting out of the bed to get strapped in a wheelchair is something else entirely. After my mom, Soraya also enters the room. Marie-Claude, who was already in the room after finishing my changing and cleaning routine, exclaims: “Hey! You’re right on time, I literally just prepped our beautiful Léa to see you guys!” My mom and Soraya answer enthusiastically while looking at me. Marie-Claude winks at me and leaves the room. Soraya begins sitting me up on the bed while talking to my mom the whole time. I think she’s explaining to her how to do it herself. I see that my mom is listening carefully, but I feel like I can also see that she’s happy about my progress, which makes me really proud. At the very least, I am proud of myself. Over the last couple days, I’ve progressed to the point that I can stay sitting with less support than before. It’s even been to the point that Soraya is now able to sit me up without the help of a nurse. Soraya looks at me and starts talking: “Today is a big day, sweety! Your mama has brought you a wheelchair and we’ll be able to use it to sit in there and maybe even go for a small walk if all goes well!” As she’s talking, my mom approaches with the wheelchair and I understand that they’re going to transfer me onto it. I feel my heart beating very fast, which makes me happy I’m no longer connected to the beeping machine anymore. Moreover, I feel stronger than I ever have since waking up here initially, and I want to pass this challenge for my mom and for Soraya. I notice that there's an absorbant pad on the seat of the wheelchair, which makes me blush a little when I realize why. My gentle physical therapist then shifts her position and tells my mom: “Since she’s really tiny, you probably won’t need a lift to get her out of bed, but it’s still very important that you use the right method to make sure you don’t drop her or that you don’t hurt yourself. So first, you want to slip your arm under hers like this.” I can feel her getting her arm under my shoulder like she’s about to hug me. I reflexively try to hold back onto her, though I don’t really have the strength to do so in any meaningful way. “Oh that’s perfect” Soraya exclaims. “You see how she already has the reflex of trying to hold on to me? That’s gonna be very helpful for you. So after getting your first arm in place, you want to slip your other arm under her bum… Léa, I’m gonna grab you from underneath, ok?” I jump a little bit in surprise when she slides her arm under me. I’m aware her hand is now directly on my diaper since the hospital gown I’m wearing isn’t enough to cover my backside. I feel myself getting red. I am suddenly very grateful that my diaper has been changed right before this. Soraya keeps going: “Now, what’s really important is that you use the strength of your legs to lift her, keep your back straight, and then in one movement, you lift her and put her down on the chair.” In one expertly executed maneuver, I find myself lifted up and then sitting on the wheelchair. “Now another thing that is really important is that you always strap her up properly, otherwise she could fall and hurt herself”. Soraya is adjusting the straps and putting them around me as she speaks. I realize that my hunched over position means I can’t sit straight against the wheelchair at first. Because of that, Soraya has to adjust the back and the straps so that she can get my head to be aligned with the headrest, before strapping my head to it as well. By the end of the process, I end up sitting up in a moderately reclined position with my body slightly twisted to fit into the wheelchair. My solutes is still attached to my arm, and the tube dangles next to the wheelchair. Once I’m securely installed in my wheelchair, my mom asks in an enthusiastic tone: “Now, do you want to go outside your bedroom, baby girl?” I feel a shiver go through me. I didn’t understand every word she said, but there is one I did get: Outside. I don’t know how long I’ve been in this room, but the thought of leaving it is both terrifying and very exciting. I feel a wave of adrenaline go through my body and feel like I’m about to conquer the world. With my mom and Soraya at my side, surely I can do anything. For the first time since waking up here, I feel actual hope that things are going to get better. I’m still terribly weak, I still can’t communicate and I’m still entirely dependant on others for even the most basic of my needs, but from now on, I’ll no longer be chained to a bed. I try vocalizing my excitement, and end up on a long joyful scream of happiness. The walk turns out to be short, but rich in sensations. The hallway outside my bedroom is clean and somewhat empty. I see many closed doors, but a few are open and I see the shape of people in there. One familiar shape emerges from one of the rooms and close the door behind her. Marie-Claude, my trusty peppy nurse appears to reach a climax of pure excitement as she sees me in the wheelchair. She lowers herself to my level and showers me with words of ravishment. I usually find her enthusiasm a bit overwhelming, but in my current state of weird confidence, I answer with another scream of joy, which seems to delight her even more. I can’t see my mom, with her at the helm of my wheelchair, but I can hear her voice answering with pride and emotion. I can’t even imagine how long she had been hoping for a moment like this. The peak of this little stroll however, was still to come. After going next to many bedrooms and one large room that look like a mess hall, I suddenly find myself bathed in natural light. At the end of the hallway is a large living room with a huge television screen, couches and most of all, huge windows that let in natural light as well as the scenery of a large wooded area covered in snow. My own bedroom has a small window that never quite let in much light from the outside. Furthermore, down from my bed, all I can see is a piece of the roof that overhangs my room. Because of that, I really had no way to anticipate the view I got at that moment. My blurry vision doesn’t quite allow me to make out the details of the stunning view, but I still find myself swallowed whole by those large windows. I can’t believe I haven’t been out in so long. The reflection of the sun on the white snow hurts my eyes, but I can’t take my eyes off of the scenery. A single thought inhabits my mind. I have to get better so I can leave this place. I suddenly feel a rush of dizziness as I contemplate the immensity of what that would imply. In the tiny, limited universe that was my bedroom, I had almost managed to make myself believe that I had regained some semblance of normalcy, but faced with this gigantic world, filled with people, places and challenges, I can’t help but feel infinitely small and vulnerable. I realize that it’s very likely I’m never going to be able to do any of the things I used to be able to do before being in this state. Heck I can’t even remember most of what I was actually doing back then because my memory is completely fried. I’m suddenly taken by a flash in my head. I see myself skiing on a snowy hill with my dad. This memory is so crisp to me it almost feels supernatural, like some sort of revelation. I’m suddenly filled with a huge wave of sorrow for what I’ve lost. I can see the snow again, but I sure as heck will never be skiing on it ever again. This is too much for me. I can’t take the sight anymore. My body starts shaking as my vision is graying out. People around me are noticing and I can hear them speaking in worried tones. I can feel my mom stroking my hair, kissing my face and saying sweet words. But I’m fast sinking back to oblivion, and I feel like I’d rather stay in the depths for a while. In the safe darkness, and away from that terrifying light.
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  29. Oh my God. I am so sleepy I'm staying in this pullup. 🛏😴😪💤
    1 point
  30. eat more beans and lay off the powder, she will beg for the powder smell again
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  31. Are you a Gas Station (Petrol Pump) attendant?
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  32. Use more powder.
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  33. Ch8 Surprise surprise or huh that wasn't expected. On one hand, the way this day had been going I shouldn't have been surprised. On the other hand, it seemed like a rather embarrassing dream. And then again we were both seemingly in the same state. Hers was a little more babyish, with cute patterns on the onesie. Of all the emotions I chose, I was embarrassed, and tried to hide behind Tina. Who, of course, had no qualms about moving. With the swiftness of a practiced mom she scooped up Cindy by her rather pronounced diapered rear and spun her once and then plopped her right next to me. I was mortified! She was not. Cindy looked me up and down, I could only stare at that captivating face. "Mommy? Is this the boy? The one you want to help?" "Yes sweetheart, he's going to stay here for a few days and recover from what a bad man did to him. Don't worry though he will be right as rain in just a few days." There was a moment of silence. "Have you 2 met each other?" "He's the boy I ran into yesterday." "Oh, really? You called him a man yesterday, so I never would have thought he was a little. You rapscallion." She threw her arms around me and gave me a hug. "I'm glad you're here." Well needless to say a lot of things happened in a very short instant. I was very glad for the diaper that hid some things though. Being alone had some disadvantages too. "All right you 2 munchkins, I know one of you is hungry because she made a big mess trying to make dinner for us, but I'd bet you're hungry too aren't you, little man?" Booping my nose with her finger. Cindy gave an impish smile and held her arms up to be set on the floor. I elected to climb down. We both trailed the giant, I marveled at her gracefulness, she seemed to flow instead of walk. The floor didn't shake when she walked, and there was no clumpiness to her. Was she perfect? We entered the kitchen where all the counters were above my head but not out of my reach. It looked a lot like my kitchen at home, just bigger. "You 2 in your chairs. "Cindy show him his booster and then get in yours please, I'll bring your plates." The meal was chicken nuggets, broccoli and some pasta thingy that only the 2 of us ate. I stayed pretty quiet the whole time letting Tina and Cindy catch up. They talked about the doctor and how work went, all of course in a very childish manner on Cindy's end. She seemed to be all there. It was kind of like all her cares were gone and she just was happy and innocent. After dinner, Tina announced it was time for her shower. She led the little ones upstairs and into her room where she placed some toys on the floor and said she would only be gone a minute. Everything on the floor seemed kind of beyond my desire to play with but I picked up something that looked like it changed between a robot and a dinosaur and fiddled with it in spite of myself. "She's not so bad," Cindy had lost that childlike quality. Her eyes were still happy but just not as innocent anymore. "I know it's hard to believe but she really does want the best for you." "How can I know that? How do I know you haven't been hypnotized?" "You don't, that's the sad part, but you've met 2 of us who have joined the coalition. Even if we are hypnotized, wouldn't a life free of worry and fear be worth it?" That was a new thought. No more Mr. Handicrafts to bully or butcher me. No more neighbors trying to poison me into a diaper. She began again,"plus I see those looks, and I like it, I feel the same way too. I meant what I said in front of the office. I am glad to see you again." She finished quietly and a little sheepishly. She was glad? "Well, this wasn't how I wanted to meet you again, wrapped up in padding and you have a mommy, she wouldn't let you and I ever go anywhere." "You'd be surprised, she's going to start making a list soon, she always does. It's going to be what you really want, not superficial desires but true dreams. I'm sure a mate will be on that list. It was for me." The water turned off in the bathroom, and Tina emerged shortly with a towel around her. "Are you 2 getting along?" She went to the dresser and got clothes out, not paying us anymore mind than she would a baby. She dropped the towel and began getting dressed. Cindy had been staring the whole time, and her mommy saw it, "would you like to nurse tonight, my dear?" "Can i?" That youthful innocent exuberance came right back. "Haha, of course my little one. We will give you some milk at bedtime." It took me a second to realize what they were referencing. Tina was lactating. I had heard Amazon's milk was addictive. But Cindy's response seemed to prove it. It also had unusual effects on littles, both digestive and mentally. I had never really talked to anyone about it, only read a few snippets on the internet. Most of the littles in the position to try it were not getting internet time, so it was only ever word of mouth. I must have been staring, because Tina laughed and teased me, "she never drinks it all, you can have some too." I blushed and pretended the toy was important again. "Well then let's get you 2 down for bed." It's been a long day, and I know 2 littles in need of some sleep." Cindy I'll put you down first. Go ahead, I'll be right there for storytime." Cindy wandered down the hall and Tina took me into my room. "While you wait for me, there are some video games you can play." I immediately got excited. "Really?" You avoided the things that the amazons thought were childish. You didn't buy them or have them because you could be considered unfit. So I had never had them, even growing up. I wanted so badly to try them but I had never been allowed. Laughing at my exuberance, Tina showed me where to turn them on and how to choose a game. For now she picked one out for me. It was a game where you ran around catching monsters. You used them to fight and such. I was immediately engrossed. _____________________ Tina messed the boys hair, such a simple pleasure had brought out the child in him so easily, the worries and trauma of the past 24 hours fading into the video games. Not even noticing her leave he kept playing. That made it easy, he was certainly a little clingy in a new environment. Tina liked it that way, it made her feel wanted and not just needed, but she also had 2 to take care of tonight. Once in Cindy's room, a pretty standard room for the girly girl who occupied it. Princess crowns and fairy wands. Pink things everywhere. She sat in the chair beside the lamp. "All right, have you picked out a story?" "Yes ma'am." The little wiggle butt waddled over and crawled up into mommy's lap. A story about a knight saving his princess was read. Then prayers and finally what the girl wanted most, Tina bared her breast and the girl latched on. She had learned not to use her teeth and was remarkably good at feeding now. This part always made Tina melt. She enjoyed this because it not only fed the girl, which was a need but it also served as a way to bond with and relax Cindy. As usual though, Cindy would fall asleep long before she even drained a single breast. Maybe Tina would try morning feedings. Laying her gently in her bed, and covering her with a warm soft blanket, Tina kissed her forehead goodnight. The little barely even stirred. Well that was one… On to number 2, he was just where he'd been left. Good! He had at least enjoyed himself for a little bit. "All right my tiny monster hunter, it's time for bed." He looked up, seemingly shocked that Tina was back. "You've had a good first time, how was it?" He was excited for sure. He began describing the game and missing details and having to go back to describe them. He would talk too fast and trip over his words. This went on for a few minutes, none of it making any sense to her, but she listened avidly as a good momma would. In the end she smiled and said "I'm glad you enjoyed it. In the morning you can play some more." Sitting on the bed she asked if he'd like a story. The boy declined but asked a potent question "why do you want me?" "Well" She had been prepared for that one, "I want you because you have a good heart, you are a smart boy, you try not to cause trouble in spite of your sometimes mischievousness. I want you because I love you." Her heart was feeling that full feeling again. He stood up in the bed next to where she sat and looked her in the eyes. Just looked, he seemed to be searching for something. Whatever it was he seemed to find it and flung himself on her, she caught him with ease and held him half cradled half supported in her arms. He was crying, maybe from relief, maybe from the stress of his life up ending in 3 days. She marveled at the bond they already shared, it usually took a month of candies and meetings just to get to where she could talk to the recruits without some sort of motivation. That round with Charles must have been worse than she had been led to believe. She would have to make sure he was shoveling penguin doo doo. His sobs were slowing, but Tina wasn't going to spoil the moment. She just rubbed his hair until he had completely calmed. When he looked up, Tina asked "all better?" Nodded, "now I promised you an opportunity. Remember you don't have to but you are welcome to breastfeed." He looked down at her shirt and contemplated it. "Can I try a little bit?" "He always knows how to make me smile." Tina thought. With practiced ease she set him in place and prepared. "Now the best way is to not use teeth and to focus on kneading and suckling." Tina assumed he wasn't listening since he seemed to be intently focused on the next step that would bring him into her arms forever. Tina raised him to the right spot and began patting his bottom the way she always did with Cindy. He didn't seem to notice. He was a natural. for all his talk of being an adult, he had done very well being a baby today. Never used his teeth, Cindy had been a bother, bringing Tina to frustration more than once, it was always hard with her in the beginning. Couldn't latch, bit, wouldn't suckle, one thing after another she had had to be taught slowly. He was perfect though, she was going to have to decide on a name for him soon. Right now Carmen and Joshua were the 2 at the top of the list. When she adopted him he would leave his whole old life behind. That meant all of it. She would give him a new life. She wouldn't take him from it, he would have to walk away from it. It was the best moment she had had with Cindy and she was hoping it would be the same for him. His suckling was slowing, he was falling asleep. Wonder of wonders, he was going to be perfect. The next 3 or 4 days needed to be very focused on what he needed from her to fulfill himself. She already knew what she wanted from him. He was even giving it now. Slow and steady though. The bonding pill couldn't be used for at least a few days. A momentary rise in anger at what had been done to him was settled instantly when she felt him slump against her breast. He was tired and had somehow and for some reason let his guard down with her. It almost made her cry. I'd bet Cindy had had something to do with that. Sneaky little girl, always trying to do anything she could to be involved, bless that precious heart. Laying him in bed and covering him with the blanket, she patted that cute little diaper butt and snuck in a little kiss. He wouldn't know, but she would. It was a nice night, so she cracked his window and left the room. Tina felt a wet spot on her shirt, it was where he had cried. After thinking about it, it was a badge of honor, and she would carry it with pride. She turned on the baby monitor and for the first time setup the split screen mode. It was going to be a fun couple days so Tina decided on an early night herself. _______________ She had come back right as I had discovered and destroyed the first boss with my monster army. Then she had said she loved me, I hadn't heard that in years. I was beginning to believe this woman. When she had offered her breast I wasn't sure I should have said yes. But her smile was all I needed to confirm that she approved. It had been sweet and savory to my taste. It had been nurturing and calming. In the end I never remembered finishing or really getting in bed. I did remember it was the best day of my life. Ch9 Next steps or What do you want for me? In the morning I woke up before everyone or at least thought I had, so I played the video game for a little bit until Tina came to evict me from my bed. I was soaked through and the diaper weighed 100 pounds plus. Tina giggle and squished my bottom with her hand. Saying it was good she had put me in such a thick diaper. After a discussion I lost hands down, seriously, I wasn't even allowed to change myself, she changed me into a light daytime thing that was a lot easier to walk in. Reminding me "the effects would wear off soon." She always seemed to have a better answer. In any case, the morning went pretty normally aside from Cindy coming down to breakfast in business attire. This was just so weird. "Oh you look so cute." Tina bent down and kissed her head. I flushed with embarrassment, as I hadn't been allowed pants yet. Something about needing to know when it was about to leak. "Mooooooooom, that's embarrassing." Cindy responded to the comment like any child might. Breakfast was a simple cold cereal, it was good to have a little normalcy in it. Afterwards Cindy said her goodbye and off she went, I assumed back to work for the coalition, where we had met. Tina took some time getting ready for the day, I could hear her singing as she went through her routine, it was a comforting thing even if it wasn't always on key. She had told me to explore a bit, so I knew where I was and what the house looked like. I walked from room to room. There seemed to be more than I thought there should have been. I only looked in Cindy's room, I felt like I was intruding by going in. It was a typical girl's room, all dolly and princess type stuff. The last thing I found was the basement, mostly open. It looked like a fun house for kids. Toys galore and and even a few playhouses and the like. I couldn't help myself and I crawled into a multi story one and climbed to the top. I felt like I was a mile up. It was probably only 10 feet or so but it felt higher. There was a rope bridge that connected to another tower and there I sat my pantless padded rear and surveyed the room a little better. Consequently, that was where Tina discovered me. She walked up to me, my feet a little bit below her eye line, and without hesitating tickled my feet. Of Course I laughed, but in my weakened state I also peed. When she had stopped, "Tina?" I said sheepishly, "I think I had an accident." "Oh dear heart, I'm sorry but that's why we had you in that diaper isn't it. The good news is you felt it, that means it's going away. Maybe just another day or so. Remember to go potty as soon as you feel the need to, ok?" She sounded like she was trying to potty train me. "Now would you like to jump to me?" That kind of sounded fun. A smile spread across my lips and Tina held her hands up to me, I only hesitated for a second or 2 thinking about falling. "Come on big boy, jump to me!" Tina encouraged me. So I did. She didn't stop at catching me though, she twirled me through the air and finally landed me in a big hug. I laughed the whole way around. It felt freeing. During the hug I felt Tina probe the diaper, probably seeing if she needed to get me into something drier. She never said anything so I ignored it. It was embarrassing enough. We went upstairs and into the office type room and sat down, her at the desk. Me on a chair made for a toddler placed on top of the desk. "I want to talk to you about what you want in your future. You always seem to live in the moment, and that makes it hard for someone just observing to see what you want and do not have yet." I got a little nervous, I had not really thought about it myself. Littles didn't get a lot of options in life. I had always wanted to travel but if you ever ended up in the wrong place or the wrong country, well, you were never heard of again. Family, who doesn't want a place they belong. Was that what she wanted from me? My face must have gotten worried because she reached out and cupped my face, "it's ok nothing to be afraid of. There aren't any wrong answers. I'll help you figure it out. This won't be our only session, just our first ok?" I felt encouraged by her words. We talked for a while until I became aware of a need for the restroom. She took me, removed my diaper, and left me some privacy. Upon finishing the toilet wouldn't flush. I tried a few things and pushed the buttons, but it would never work. I got a little frantic and Tina must have been listening, "what's the matter?" "It won't flush, I can't get the toilet to work." I heard laughing, "I forgot to tell you it's little proof. It keeps the littles from cheating. In my line of work it is essential.if you are done come on out and we will get it all sorted. And sorted we did. She flushed the toilet, not sure how, and me powdered and padded. With Each diaper change she seemed to be holding something back, more and more. I couldn't tell what, but it felt like she wanted something but couldn't or wouldn't do it. Maybe it was my imagination. Anyway the afternoon was spent doing simple things like playing board games or puzzles or even a game of hide n seek, which she was really good at. Cindy arrived home and after sometime in her room with Tina she came out dressed similarly to last night. A colorful onesie and diaper, even in that get up i couldn't help but notice her legs and shape were womanly. We went In the basement, and were told to play nice and that dinner would be ready soon. As soon as Tina left, Cindy dropped back into her adult mode. That's what I'd decided I'd call it when she wasn't playing childlike. "She really likes you." I was always stunned when she talked like that. "Why?" Cindy shrugged at that. "It's not my place, she's my mommy, and I love her for that. She's protected me from something, I can't remember what. A memory blocker was put up to keep me from ever remembering it. I have a vague understanding that it was terrible, that mommy saved me and made me her daughter to help me heal from it, but it hadn't been enough, so I decided to have the blocker put in." "You decided?" "Yep, that much is perfectly clear." Sitting in a playhouse tower it felt like make believe but I listened on. "Anyway, this life couldn't get much better, I have all I need, I get to be an adult for a few hours a day. Mommy takes all the stress off me when I get home each day. I get to play and watch TV or be a princess. Who would ever want more than to never HAVE to grow up." "You talked about a list last night, what did you mean?" Her only response was a flat, "I can't talk about it." It was almost robotic. "What about the mate thing?" "It's on my list, I have no ability to talk about it." I was now utterly confused, the way she sounded it was like a hypnosis response. There was never any sign of hypnosis until this moment. I decided to change the subject. "Why do you use diapers if you get to be an adult?" "The Amazon's want babies right? We are babies to them. We know we are not babies, they know we are not, but their minds allow them to believe we are." She paused and smiled, "I am mommy's baby." And with that she proved it, not intentionally ofcourse, but audibly and quite obviously. "Ewwwww" I said half mockingly. She just laughed so hard she fell backwards into a giant bear stuffy. From the stairs we could hear Tina coming. " What are you 2 rugrats up to?" Coming over, she didn't need an answer as Cindy's smell did the talking. "Whooo, guess we need to fix that before dinner!" Her focus changed to my crotch "Speaking of you haven't had an accident since we changed you. That's good news!" Sure enough, I was still dry. I hadn't even noticed. The praise made my cheeks flush red. "In the morning I think we can skip the diapers, as long as you promise to be careful and go as soon as you feel the need to." Yep I was definitely being potty trained. My cheeks got even redder. "Run along and get your hands washed, I'll be up shortly and we will eat dinner." I went and did as instructed, I was assuming Cindy was getting changed. Dinner was a lot the same, the pasta thingy was back again, it seemed to be a pattern, they tasted good so I didn't say anything. Bathtime and bedtime came again, there was another discussion on whether I needed diapers for bed and of course I lost. Seemed to be a pattern forming there. There was another onesie, this time powder blue. I got second round once again. So I got a few more minutes on the video game and then Tina came in. "I think tomorrow will be another good day, we can go visit Cindy for lunch and you can meet a few more Littles at the coalition." I had other things on my mind. "Why does Cindy have hypnosis programming?" I knew I should have, maybe, led into it or prepped her for it but I was curious. Tina frowned, "meddlesome little girl, always the mischievous one. Anyway, come sit in my lap." I crawled over from the bed to the chair where she settled me on her knee. "This is a bad time to be talking about business, but I think you need to know so you can sleep better. The coalition is still a secret, remember the contract you signed?" I nodded, " Well it's the first step, remember I told you there were 3 contracts?" I nodded again, " the next contract we will talk about tomorrow. The hypnosis is to help us keep a secret what we are doing. While we are strong we are not to the point where we can just go about saying we are who we are. Some people don't like what we do. Also, we don't want to be flooded with applicants, we want to find them." She trailed off for a minute, "the littles we find are always specifically chosen, the same goes for the amazons. Believe it or not they undergo the same hypnosis." It wasn't really relieving my fears. "Tomorrow 2 people are scheduled to have it done and I thought it might be good for you to see it done in person, before you made your decision." "My decision?!" I may have sounded a bit upset, "decision? To do what chop up my brain? Take parts of me away so I cannot think anymore? Make me some drooling infant?!" Tina took it all in stride, she had heard it before. "I know, it's not like that though. The contract that comes next basically say you want to keep going with us, but we have to stay safe. I know its hard to understand but it will keep you from talking about it to anyone who is not also under the same hypnosis. That's it. There isn't anymore to it." It didn't sit well with me. "I can hold you the whole time if you want. I can be with you, or maybe have Cindy there? Whatever would make you feel better." She seemed to be almost desperate, she really didn't want to lose me? Why was this so important? "I will at least see what you are talking about." She gave me a hug, "I'd also like to stop by the clinic and talk to the doctor tomorrow. Just a check up." "Goodnight, my darling little one, sleep well." I never responded, I was already lost in thought. Would it be so bad to be so happy? ___________________ He wasn't sleeping, the monitor kept notifying her of his movement. Tina just kept staring at the monitor. In the end she went in and layed down, rubbing his back. He never acknowledged her, but he slept, and so did she, right next to her would be adoptee. She would have him, and he would have his happily ever after. He wanted to belong, he had already told her that much, not in so few words but it had topped the list. He was a smart boy, how had he discovered the hypnosis? She'd have to ask tomorrow, Cindy wouldn't even remember that part of the conversation. Anyway, she'd sit with him through the procedure. It might make him feel better. If the doc went ahead with the green light, she could do the bonding pill as well. If he was genuine the pill would make him, and her, aware of it. All for tomorrow, for now they both needed sleep and he was getting a head start. Mommies need their rest too.
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  34. These are Thereabouts boys husky sizes (18-20 H for the spaceship, 22 H for the skateboard.). They have two layers, Iike a regular t-shirt with a onesie layer underneath. They are sized for chests up to 37 inches for the ship and 38.5 inches for the skater. My 39 inch chest fits pretty well in both, and they will work well with diapers up to about 5’8” or maybe 5’9”. I bought these for myself, forgetting that boobs and onesies don’t always mix. They are super comfortable but if you are a person with breasts realize they will fit best on a flat-ish figure. Retails for 22 each, but I will let them go for 10 plus shipping if it gets them to someone who can use them.
    1 point
  35. To celebrate her first year of HRT, Zoey decides to hit the clubs and party it up - and she can't resist the temptation to do so in diapers. Meanwhile, Dianne is on the lookout for someone to care for - And when they find each other, sparks fly. This story contains exhibitionism, praise, public diaper use, and chastity. ... I wrote this story as part of a collaboration with three other wonderful creators - Ko, HofBondage, and FlashyFlesh! Here's all the links to their various collaborative sections! Koneko's Half of the Story, written from Zoey's Perspective Ko created the original story concept and a lot of the outlining, and also wrote the other half of this story, told from the Baby's perspective. I wrote the section below - The PoV of the dominant, Dianne! HofBondage and FlashyFlesh both did illustrations of several points in the story - They're so freakin' hot and wonderful, so go check them out! The images attached are just previews, you have to go to their page to see the whole thing. HofBondage's First Illustration - Dianne introduces herself FlashyFlesh's First Illustration - Their first dance FlashyFlesh's Second Illustration - Explaining the rules HofBondage's Second Illustration - Play Time on the Potty ... Dianne didn’t believe in luck. Everything in her life happened for a reason. The energy she put out into the world? It came right back to her. When life presented opportunities, she always did her best to take them while thanking life for the favor. This philosophy had treated her well. Though she tried to remain humble, she’d had success in all her affairs, and that success bred confidence–as well as the ability to watch for further opportunity. And tonight she certainly saw opportunity. The club, “The Dream Mode”, wasn’t one she frequented often, but it could occasionally be a good spot for opportunity seeking, and she was friends with several people on the staff. The weekend DJ had been in her sorority, she’d seen the bartender at a few dungeon events, and many patrons were in Dianne’s sphere of friends, ranging from close colleagues to besties. She’d felt the call to the bar that night and, trusting her instincts, sought out the place and ordered herself a little cocktail to enjoy while watching the dancers. And, as she’d suspected, life had given her an opportunity tonight in the form of a precious young girl with more enthusiasm than sense. Dianne noticed the girl as soon as she entered the bar, dressed up like a goth princess. Her clothes’ style screamed ‘You can’t tell me what to do’, but the color and her hair suggested a softer, cuter side, and the collar all but announced the antithesis–please tell me what to do. Even so, Dianne didn’t make a move yet. She watched. There were other candidates that night, other possibilities that life may be pulling her towards. As the girl began to dance, though, Dianne knew that this goth princess was the one she’d come for. As she jumped and spun and gyrated, the girl’s tripp skirt raised, showing off–to Dianne’s delight–the unmistakable outline of a diaper, and the unmistakable print of a Bunny Hop at that. The girl was a Little, and that all but demanded Dianne’s intervention before she left the bar without a mistress to care for her. She began their interaction with a subtle nod. A suggestion, of sorts, ordering the girl a drink. Without a name, Dianne decided to simply think of her as the Baby, until she learned otherwise. And maybe, even after she learned otherwise, she’d still think of the Baby as such. After receiving Dianne’s message, the Baby glanced back her way and smiled. She looked pleased and, perhaps, a little shy–but not so shy that she melted away and fled. Instead, she flounced past Dianne on her way back to the floor, wiggling her crinkling bottom as she passed. It was as though the Baby wanted Dianne to notice, so it was just as well that Dianne had. And if she was that confident in herself, Dianne really needed to provide for her a strong, guiding hand. Stalking across the dance floor, Dianne approached the girl, who had begun dancing with reckless abandon, her eyes closed. Choosing a bold first encounter, she stepped in and looped a finger through the loop in the girl’s collar, pulling her a half step forward–not so forcefully that it’d hurt, just enough to jolt her. Beaming with dominant energy, she sent her parting shot over. “Hello there, little girl. You sure are enjoying yourself tonight.” “H-hello yourself,” the girl replied. Dianne’s heart leapt, this baby was adorable. Her attempt to sound confident rendered her down to a toddler, claiming she hadn’t gotten into the cookie jar without wiping the crumbs off her face. Pulling her finger away, Dianne began to dance, reaching out to the baby’s hips and resting her hands on the poor girl’s diaper. “Dance with me,” she said, not a request, a statement. She could call it, ‘Manifesting the world she wanted to see’, or she could just call it control, but the effect was the same. The baby nodded and obeyed, blushing brightly all the while. Hands placed firmly over the baby’s diaper, with only a thin skirt between her and the crinkly padding, they danced. It wasn’t the right music for a slow dance with a lot of touching, but Dianne moved their bodies in a rhythm of her choosing, moving her hands up and down the baby, engaging in close contact. She moved with an almost protective aura. She’d staked her claim on this little girl, and now they danced together, with Dianne warding off anyone who might come close in subtle ways, placing her body so that she was the baby’s whole world, her sole focus and the object of her attention. When the time was right, in a lull between songs, Dianne moved behind the baby and wrapped her arm around the girl. She ran her hand up the girl’s thigh, finally pressing her palm into the front of the girl’s thick diapers. Leaning in to whisper in the baby’s ear, she stated, “Show me you’re a good little girl. Wet your diaper.” She didn’t say it in a condescending or mean way, but just as a statement–if the baby was good, her diaper would be wet. The baby glanced back at her, anxious but pliable, biting her lip. “What’s the matter? Did you not hear me?” Dianne asked, dropping her voice even lower. “Do I need to speak louder, sweetheart, so everyone can hear? Good girls wet their diapers.” Shutting her eyes, the girl did what was only natural. She proved to Dianne that she was good, and obedient, and more than willing to obey. The warmth spread quickly as the baby followed instructions, flooding the padding thoroughly, urine wicking into the absorbent padding and making the diaper sag ever so slightly. She’d stopped dancing. It was adorable. The baby was so focused on obeying, on being good, that she’d forgotten everything around her. To remind the girl of where she was, Dianne pressed her hand into the squelching diaper, giving it a squeeze. “Good girl, I knew you could do it,” she purred. To Dianne’s delight, the girl squeaked in submission. Truly, the universe had given her a precious gift today, even if the baby tried to hide it and tamp down on any other little sounds. “Tsk,” she warned, reaching down for the girl’s purse. The girl resisted, but Dianne gave her a light swat to the thigh and she melted back into obedience. Going through the contents of the purse, she made a mental catalog–the baby had really come prepared. “Enough pretending you’re big,” she stated, listing out what she saw as she came across it. “Miss Dianne wants to see what you have–powder, wipes, lotion, spare diapers. You’re a smart girl, right, you remembered to bring a change, and–ah, there it is.” Before the baby could ask what she’d found, Dianne produced the baby’s pacifier and plopped it into the girl’s lips. She reached up, to cover the pacifier and remove it, but a firmer swat to her thigh and a dominant glance was enough to demolish the girl’s resistance. “No no, sweetie, you keep that in. Nurse your paci, little girl, and Miss Dianne will take care of everything else.” To emphasize what ‘everything else’ meant, she gave the baby’s diaper another squeeze. “Don’t worry–nobody will know you’re a baby, they’ll just think you’re on molly.” The girl nodded meekly. Putty in the hands of a strong woman, Dianne wanted to swaddle her up and protect her from the whims of the universe. “Tell me your name,” she said. “Zoey,” the girl mumbled, over her pacifier. “Little Baby Zoey,” Dianne purred, letting the name float across her tongue. Running her fingers down the back of Zoey’s diaper, she decided to try something. This baby needed to be cared for, and Dianne had just the thing. “You flooded your diapers–we need to step aside to make sure you don’t leak.” If Zoey even noticed the other dancers anymore, Dianne suspected it was only barely. Moving her hand from the diaper to Zoey’s hand, Dianne walked off the stage and, as expected, felt no resistance. Baby Zoey followed with complete deference, off to a shady corner of the nightclub where no lights shone. It wouldn’t be private, but it’d be private enough. Sliding the purse off Zoey’s shoulder, Dianne set it on the table by their side, turning the girl so that she faced the dance floor. “All you need to do is stand there and look pretty,” she promised. The baby let out a squeak, the universal language version of, ‘I’m a helpless little girl,’ and Dianne proceeded with her plan. “If you keep using your diaper–which a good little girl will do–you’re going to leak,” she explained, as her hands worked under Zoey’s skirt, feeling up her sodden diaper. With a sharp fingernail, she pierced the plastic shell of Zoey’s diaper, tearing a long slit from the front to the back. Zoey squeaked again, and Dianne whispered, “Shh, just hold still.” Three more parallel slits into Zoey’s diaper created open channels, enough for fluids to easily drain. Now came the fun part, as she reached into Zoey’s purse–her diaper bag, really–and produced another diaper, unfolding it discreetly behind Zoey’s back. In the dark corner, most onlookers would assume Dianne was just feeling her up, at least at a glance. Sure, there were some obvious tells that something more was going on, but Dianne was counting on the fact that, in a crowded nightclub, most eyes would be on the gyrating asses and dancing hotties on the floor, not the quietly meeping baby in the corner. Sliding the diaper up beneath Zoey’s skirts, Dianne worked by sense of touch to wrap it around her waist. Zoey continued making little helpless squeaking sounds over her pacifier, but Dianne’s touch remained gentle as she smoothed out the crinkling plastic shell, pressing the diaper into Zoey, and smoothing out the tapes so that they stuck securely. While she was doing so, she felt a bulge in the front of Zoey’s diaper. That settled one thing she’d been curious about, though she wouldn’t bring it up until Zoey did. “Good girl,” she whispered from behind, into Zoey’s ear. “Now you don’t have to worry about leaks at all!” Baby Zoey nodded meekly. Obediently. Such a good baby. “You need to drink more water,” Dianne instructed. “Then come back to me. I want to dance again.” Adorably, Zoe’s doubly-diapered waddle and choice of bottoms worked together to make her diaper poke out as she left, visible with every step beneath her flapping skirt. She was precious, with the sort of innocence that made Dianne’s heart melt. While she was gone, Dianne steadied herself. She couldn’t get carried away, and wouldn’t push this girl too far. If the girl was that naive to how obvious her diaper was–and it really didn’t seem like she was choosing exhibitionism–then she truly needed a protector to shield that innocence. Though, at the same time–the girl had chosen to come to a bar wearing a diaper, purely for her own gratification. She wasn’t that kind of innocent, and Dianne felt no compunctions about making Zoey helpless along that vector. When Zoey returned, Dianne’s heart melted by another degree as she saw Zoey had brought back a sippy cup. Admittedly, it had lewd stickers and the bar logo printed on the side, and it probably came out for the Kandy Kid ravers fairly often, but in Zoey’s hands it just screamed, ‘I’m a little baby.’ “That’s cute,” she said, nodding at the cup with an amused smile. “The bartender could tell you’re still a little baby.” Zoey responded by making a face, arguing her maturity in the most childish way possible. "Nuh uh, it was a joke an I…ummm…I though’ she knew…" Dianne’s smile widened, though she wondered if Zoey’s slurring was a toddlerish aspect, or a sign that she’d had more than water in the past moment. “You should have a seat, little Zoey, and drink your water. Take care of your body. Okay?” Nodding to a box to the side, the sort of wide low rectangle that could be dragged out and used as a raised dancing or performing platform, she helped Zoey move to sit on it. "Thanou… I shoudn…" The girl pulled out her pacifier, holding it in her hand as she confirmed Dianne’s suspicion. "I shouldn't have gotten more shots…you were right about the water. " Heart swelling, Dianne’s instincts kicked in. This girl needed a Mommy, not just a Mommy Dom. “Zoey, that’s not what you were supposed to do. You want to be a good girl, and that’s not what good girls do. How is your head feeling?” Zoey bit her lip, avoiding eye contact and staring at her lap. "It's fine, well… a little spinny, but not bad... and I do want I be a good girl, I was just being dumb and not thinking. I'm sorry Miss." “You’re not dumb.” This girl… Dianne took a breath, resisting the urge to drag Zoey into a hug. “You just need a grown up to help take care of you. This is your first night out as a little girl, isn’t it?” A little squeak escaped Zoey’s lips, and for a half second, Dianne worried she’d said something wrong. After catching herself, though, Zoey continued. "Well, I've been out padded before, but never to the club. Actually this is my first time at the club in over a year… I'm kind of here to celebrate something." A few thoughts all rose to the surface in Dianne’s mind. Rather than speak her theory aloud, though, she put her hands on Zoey’s and let the baby explain for herself in her own time. “Oh? I’m afraid I don’t have a present for you, but I’m sure whatever the occasion is, it’s very special.” "Honestly, all the fun and attention is far more than I could've asked for from anyone… that being said…" Zoey closed her eyes and took a breath, like she was about to jump of a cliff. "... the thing is… I'm a trans woman. I started HRT a year ago." (This baby!) Dianne’s hands tightened over Zoey’s. “Oh, you sweet little thing. Thank you for telling me, but that doesn’t change anything to me.” Worried that she might be coming on too strong, too protective, she added a quip. “Then again, that explains why you’re such a baby–you’re only one!” Zoey’s eyes watered, but she took the branch of humor and kept herself together. "Hmph! I'm four. I'm practically a big girl even." She stuck out her tongue, and Dianne was almost surprised that she didn’t add in a raspberry. “Uh-huh.” Playing along, Dianne lifted the sippy cup, prodding the sipper in between Zoey’s lips “Well, birthday girl, I want you to have a nice time, but since you’re a little tipsy, we need to make sure you’re okay first, okay?” Zoey nodded obediently. "Yes ma'am." When she spoke, the water she’d been sipping on dribbled down her chin, further reinforcing Dianne’s vision of her as all-but helpless. For some reason, the baby giggled, dribbling even more water, and a furtive glance downward suggested why. Reaching down, Dianne gave the baby’s diaper another squeeze. “We’re going to sit here for a little while until your head stops spinning.” Zoey opened her mouth, but Dianne shook her head and pushed the sippy cup back between her lips. “Shh, just listen. I need you to listen, so you can be good.” Zoey nodded. Good girl. Dianne clasped Zoey’s hands tightly. “If I say you’re going to do something, and you don’t feel safe, you’re going to tell me. If I ask if you’re okay, you’re going to tell me. I can’t protect you if I don’t know how you’re feeling.” Again, Zoey nodded, suckling intently on her water. “If I ask, and you’re okay, you can just say, ‘Green’. Just that one word and I’ll know you’re okay.” Dianne waited for a nod before continuing. “If you’re uncertain, and want to talk, you say, ‘Yellow’. Swallow, then say it back to me.” Zoey obeyed, swallowed her water, and said, “Yellow.” “And if you say, ‘Red’, we stop immediately and get you safe and comfortable. Say it.” “Red.” Zoey put her cup back, letting the water trickle into her mouth again. “We don’t joke about safe words. I’m not going to do anything that’ll get you in trouble, but if you’re unsure, you’ll tell me immediately.” She was moving things too fast, and she knew it–but the universe had given her this precious baby to protect, and she wouldn’t let the moment pass her by. “Now tell me, little Zoey, what’s your favorite song to dance to?” The girl hesitated for a moment, and Dianne worried she’d gone too far, but it quickly became clear she’d just taken Zoey by surprise with the change of topics. Of course, Zoey couldn’t know what Dianne was thinking, so that shouldn’t have been a surprise. After a moment of thought, Zoey said, "Um... Emo Girl? But not MJK's version…” Smirking, she showed off a bit of the fiery passion and opinionated personality Dianne loved to see. “That isn't emo to me. Paige Six got it right." Dianne grinned. "Okay, now you need someone to check your diaper for me while I go request your song–you’re probably close to needing a change, right?" Glancing around, she spotted another acquaintance, someone she knew was kink friendly and up for anything. Gesturing with her head, she suggested, “What about him?” Zoey shook her head. "Y-yellow…" Swallowing, Dianne tried not to berate herself. She’d already gone and pushed Zoey too far, and it had been luck that she’d used her safe words–no, Zoey was a smart girl. It wasn’t luck, she just knew how to assert her boundaries. "Is it a problem with him, or with someone checking your diaper?" Zoey shook her head, briefly uncommunicative, but her eyes told the story. She glanced to the bartender, Amy, and Dianne knew what she wanted from that look. "Oh, would you like the nice lady who gave you your sippy cup to do it? It would be very brave of you to go and ask her.” She smiled, reassuringly. Amy was just as reliable, maybe even moreso, and if it was what made Zoey comfortable it was the perfect choice. Zoey smiled, and Dianne helped her up, smirking at the girl’s pronounced waddle from the thick, sodden diapers that her skirt failed to hide. Giving Zoey a pat and a squeeze on her padding, she added, “You should thank her for the sippy cup, as well.” While Zoey went to get checked, Dianne made her way through the crowd over to the DJ. Throwing up a wave with her thumb and pinkie extended in a waggle, she greeted her. “Hey, Mels! How’ve you been?” With an earphone pressed against one ear, Mels responded with a thumbs up, bobbing her head and keeping the music going. She’d always been more of a doer than a talker. “Can you take a request for me, as a favor? Emo Girl by Paige Six!” Another thumbs up and a nod, and Mels returned to her DJ work. Grinning, Dianne found her way back to Zoey, meeting her by the dancing platform they’d been standing by. Zoey returned a moment later, with a full sippy cup and an adorable blush. “What did the nice lady say?” Dianne asked. “That…I could last a little longer,” Zoey replied, raising her cup to take a sip. “We should fix that,” Dianne suggested. “But first, I want you to show me what a good dancer you are, okay?” Zoey hesitated, and again, Dianne wondered if she’d gone too fast with her. Before she could retract her suggestion, though, Zoey nodded. “Okay.” “Where’s your pacifier?” Dianne asked. Zoey retrieved it from her purse, and Dianne plopped it between her lips. Then, she bent slightly, pulling on the handle of the raised dance platform. It wasn’t that heavy, and she could drag it easily towards the center of the dance floor. She hadn’t, strictly, gotten permission to use it, but confidence was the only ticket she needed. They weren’t forbidden or anything, and everyone was already dancing–what difference would it make if Zoey was dancing a little higher, for everyone to see? “Just be good for me,” Dianne said. “I want to watch you dance, okay?” Zoey nodded again, as Dianne got the platform far enough out that people were stepping aside to let her through. Taking Zoey’s hand, she squeezed it reassuringly, helping the tipsy baby up just as a few opening chords started to play. The music began: “She’s got studded belts–” and Zoey’s face lit up with excitement. Needing no further encouragement, she began to dance. The girl lit up the room, and not just because a spotlight whirled to point at her. Her smile was infectious, her enthusiasm infinite, and when she danced, twirling so that her skirt spun, it filled Dianne with pure joy. It didn’t matter that Zoey’s diaper was acutely visible, between her raised platform, her skirt spinning high, and the severe puff and sag of the diaper. Most people in the bar were kink friendly, and even those who weren’t just didn’t care. It was impossible to look at Zoey, dancing her heart out and smiling the biggest, most exuberant smile in the world, and care what was sagging under that skirt. As the song reached its final chorus, Zoey looked down at Dianne, hesitant, looking for something. Dianne knew what, and she gave her permission. She mouthed the word: ‘Push.’ Zoey glanced past her, eyeing something. Dianne glanced back, and saw it was a mirror; Zoey was watching herself as she obeyed. The little girl bent her knees slightly, still wiggling her butt in time with the music, but soon even that motion was lost as she turned her attention to being a good girl. She bit down on her pacifier, held her breath, and Dianne’s heart melted. This girl was simply too precious for this world, too adorable. Even though the mess could only be inferred; Zoey’s diaper was already so thick and sagging that there wasn’t much in the way of a visible bulge, it was clear what she was doing by her face and her pose, and by the subtle crinkle as she bottomed out her diapers. Gaze darting around for reassurance, Zoey caught Dianne’s eyes, breathing rapidly. The last notes of the song were running out, and Dianne beamed at her, reaching up to help her down. Even with Dianne’s hand, Zoey still stumbled, falling onto a seated position on the platform. She gasped and turned pink as she fell onto the weight of her packed diaper, and Dianne finally got a whiff of what she’d done. Wrinkling her nose ever so slightly, Dianne pulled her into a hug and helped Zoey away from the center of the dance floor, while someone else climbed up to take their turn as the center of attention. “Shh,” she whispered into Zoey’s ear. “You’re such a good girl. You were wonderful up there, the most adorable little thing I’ve ever seen, and the best little baby anyone could ask for.” Reaching down, she slipped a hand under Zoey’s skirt, squeezing the seat of her diaper ever so slightly. Zoey looked down, avoiding Dianne’s gaze, so Dianne touched her chin and moved her head up until they locked eyes again. Zoey’s expression was huge and helpless, little and in dire need of reassurance…and maybe something more. “Your diaper is ready for a change,” Dianne said. “There’s a bathroom in the corner with a lock. Would you like me to change you?” Zoey squeaked out a little, “Yes, please,” over her pacifier, though her focus was less on the words and more on Dianne’s face. Smiling warmly, Dianne said, “There’s my stinky little girl. Let’s go.” Leading Zoey by the hand, Dianne pulled her to the restroom. A unisex sign on the door indicated it was for general use, though in practice Dianne thought it was used as a private room for sex as often as it was for its intended purpose–certainly, Zoey wouldn’t be using the toilet any time soon. Pulling her inside, Dianne locked the door. Reaching down, she took Zoey’s skirt, kneeling so she could pull it all the way down off the baby’s body, revealing her sagging, smelly diaper. Kneeling in front of Zoey, Dianne looked up at her. “You really ruined your diaper, baby,” she commented. “Just like you’re supposed to.” As Zoey squeaked in response, Dianne stood, took her hands, and gently forced her back towards the toilet. It was a cheap, old thing, with exposed copper pipes that ran halfway up the wall. Definitely a retrofit, and little effort had been made for aesthetics. Dianne pushed Zoey down onto the toilet seat, forcing the baby’s weight into her loaded diaper, then pulled her hands up to the pipes. Twisting the skirt into a rope, Dianne wrapped it around the pipes and around Zoey’s wrists, tying a secure knot. It was by no means perfect, but it didn’t cut off circulation, and it’d keep her hands there so long as she didn’t try to wriggle free, and good girls wouldn’t try to wriggle free. Once she was restrained, Dianne reached down, rubbing against the front of Zoey’s diaper. She could feel how hard the girl was, and Zoey wriggled on the toilet seat to truly experience how full her diaper had become. Hesitating, Dianne took a risk. “Show mommy how much you love your smelly diapers, okay?” She didn’t want to go too far, but calling herself ‘Mommy’ just felt right. Zoey seemed to agree with the label, because she didn’t object, she simply thrusted into Dianne’s hand, moaning into her pacifier as she tried to get every ounce of sensation through her layers of sodden, decimated diaper. After a moment, Dianne pulled her hand away. She didn’t want Zoey’s fun to end just yet. Instead, she reached up, unbuttoning her blouse till it hung loose over her chest. Reaching down, she took Zoey’s pacifier out of her lips, moved to sit on Zoey’s lap so that her breasts were at Zoey’s eye level, and pulled herself free of her bra. She didn’t need to say anything. Zoey’s mouth moved instinctively to Dianne’s nipple, and she began to suckle, still wriggling and grinding as she did so. It was Dianne’s turn to moan, and to reach down beneath her own pants, slipping fingers to fondle herself while adorable, helpless, smelly little Zoey gasped and suckled her tits. Dianne barely needed to do anything for herself, simply being over Zoey in this situation brought her nearly to the edge, and she showed little restraint as she brought herself to climax. “Yes,” she moaned, as Zoey sucked hard on her breasts. “Exactly like that, baby, just–yes–” It was Dianne’s turn to make herself wet, though not as thoroughly as Zoey had. Squirting into her panties, it just barely soaked through to her jeans, not enough to be particularly noticeable unless someone was looking for it. Zoey continued to wriggle in helpless frustration, trying and failing to get enough sensation to achieve her own climax. Dianne took a breath for a moment, then pulled away. “Zoey, I want you to wait here,” she said. “Don’t spit out your pacifier, and don’t untie your hands. If you do, I’ll know.” Zoey looked up at her, eyes huge, pleading, as though to ask, ‘Why don’t I get to cum?’, but Dianne only smiled coyly. “Trust me,” she said. “I’ll only be gone a minute. Safe words?” Zoey mumbled, “Green,” over her pacifier, and Zoey bent over to kiss her on the forehead. Then she stood up straight, waved, and left the bathroom, flipping over the ‘out of order’ sign on the door to discourage anyone from stepping in. Of course, there wasn’t anything stopping anyone from opening the door, and that was a bit of the fun. In the few minutes while Dianne was gone, anyone could wander in and find Zoey stuck, right over the toilet, in her filthy diaper. She was only gone for a minute. There was a sex shop two doors down and open late, and she acquired what she needed with little hassle. She got back, made her way across the bar floor and pushed open the door to the bathroom. After being gone for several minutes, the shock of the smell hit her hard as she stepped in, partly because it contrasted with the fresh air outside, partly because Zoey had been given time to stew and really stink up the room. Zoey was wriggling on the toilet seat, smushing into her diaper and whimpering when Dianne walked in. Spotting her, she mumbled through her pacifier, “Mommy?” “Mhmm,” Dianne said. “Let’s get your diaper changed, little girl.” “But–” Zoey started, but Dianne shook her head. “No buts, except yours, in a fresh diaper,” Dianne said, setting down her shopping bag and crossing to begin cleaning up Zoey. It was a bit tricky, doing it while Zoey stayed seated and tied up, but Dianne made it work. Undoing the tapes, she pinched her nose and made a face, mostly for show. “You really did a number on your diaper,” she commented, producing baby wipes from Zoey’s purse and slowly, methodically, began to clean the girl up. Zoey continued to squirm, but over time, the cold wipes began to combat her erection, and her princess parts grew smaller and more pliable. Exactly what Dianne wanted. Reaching into her purse, she produced her purchase–a stainless steel chastity cage. She made sure Zoey could see it, and waited for a moment to give her a chance to use a safe word. When Zoey didn’t respond, Dianne opened up the cage, and began fitting it around her parts. “This is my good little girl insurance,” Dianne explained, sliding the cage into place. “I want you to wear your diapers and use them like a good baby all week, and if you do, I’ll unlock you and let you cum. Okay?” Zoey nodded enthusiastically, eyes huge and excited. “You’ll get my permission before every change, okay?” Dianne asked, as she slid the locking mechanism into place. Zoey nodded again, and with a little click, she locked the cage on. Reaching for a fresh diaper from Zoey’s purse, she added, “And I don’t want you to even think about using the potty. You’re a baby, you’re supposed to use your diapers. Okay?” She made sure to emphasize that she was asking–some things still required more than a statement of fact. “O…okay, mommy,” Zoey nodded. Zoey had brought along powder as well, so Dianne applied a thin layer before wrapping up the fresh diaper and taping it into place. “Good girl.” Reaching down, she wadded up Zoey’s old diaper so that nothing could smush out, then moved it into Zoey’s purse. “I don’t want to make the staff here deal with your stinky accidents, so this goes in your diaper bag.” That didn’t need an ‘Okay?’ at the end. Zoey would be good on that account. Zoey nodded again, squirming in her fresh diaper. Reaching up, Dianne finally untied Zoey’s skirt from around the pipe, freeing her hands. “Let’s take you home, baby girl. Did you have a nice time?” “Mhmm,” Zoey said. “Thanks, Mommy.” Dianne’s heart swelled. Fate had truly given her a gift tonight. ... Support from readers like you is what makes it possible for me to tell stories like this one - And you get access to all my writing early, downloadable copies of all the stories, and exclusive fiction! https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling
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  36. Part Thirteen I was broken out of my appalled and beyond frustrated state by Noelle’s voice. My annoyance at both her bossy tone and this latest turn of events threatened to flare out more than it already had, but I managed to keep myself from snapping. The stern brunette’s only crime was refusing to listen to me due to how difficult she had assumed her actual charge was to manage. Paige was the issue here. If she had just kept her fucking mouth shut, I would have already sorted out this misunderstanding with Noelle. Outright bitching about things now would make me look more like Miley than anything else, and the last thing I needed was another spanking. The tone of Noelle’s voice was warning enough. Softly exhaling in an attempt to center myself despite how I was still internally furious at my sister, I turned from my closet and walked over to Miley’s babysitter. “Sorry,” I muttered. Trying to get ahead of whatever lecture she was about to throw my way, I tried to explain what was going on without including the part of the story that she wasn’t going to take seriously. “Paige went through my stuff without asking.” “You do remember she picked out that outfit for you, right?” Noelle pointed out. Of course, she didn’t understand the depth of how Paige had screwed with my room in order to keep Noelle in the dark about my real age. Or, more accurately, to keep me from easily proving it. “More importantly, you really shouldn’t be swearing. I’ll let you off with a warning this time, but we’re going to have a problem if it happens again.” Right. Because I was supposed to be a thirteen year old who needed a serious amount of attitude adjustment. “I didn’t mean to,” I muttered. Right away, I blushed at how immature the reply sounded. It really was getting to the point where nothing I did or said seemed to reflect the fact that I was eighteen. And honestly, I was being honest with my response. I wasn’t normally the type of girl to swear, at least when it came to school, ballet, or my friends. Paige just brought out the worst in me, with all the buttons she seemed to push whether she was trying to or not. Going on, Noelle said, “And I thought we were done with this whole ‘Alyssa’ thing. You’re not still trying to tell me that you’re not Miley, are you?” Well. That’s exactly what I just told her. Hoping it was rhetorical, I tried to be a bit more specific in terms of what my current issue was. “Noelle, look at my desk. Paige literally took everything.” She obviously had been rushing, as it didn’t look like she made much of an effort to replace my stuff with anything else. The immature outfits were the exception, of course, although that made sense. It would have been simple enough for her friends to bring over whatever old clothes they had stuffed in a box in their respective basements, but it’s not like Paige had planned for the weekend to go like this. If I had to guess, she was just doing whatever came to mind that was quick and easy to get away with. Stealing was easier than replacing, for the most part. Unfortunately, this was Noelle’s first time in my room. She had no frame of reference, and was also primed upon arrival to take everything ‘Miley’ said with a degree of skepticism. “How do you know it was Paige?” she asked, “It’s the end of the school year. Your parents could have cleared things out for you. Or maybe confiscated whatever you had stashed away in there?” Ugh, there was no winning with this girl. “It was Paige,” I insisted, “And who would be stupid enough to stash anything right in a desk drawer where anyone could see it?” “So you’re saying you stash things in other places?” she raised an eyebrow. “No!” I exclaimed. Blushing a little more at how unintentionally shrill my reply was, I glanced away and muttered, “I swear, it was my sister. She messed with my room.” “Instead of getting ready for her friends to arrive? Come on, Miley. We came up here for a reason. Grab yourself a bra, and let’s go.” It was clear my options were getting more limited. With Paige and her friends hanging out in her bedroom, I couldn’t just walk in and start looking for all the things she stole. And that was provided she actually hid my stuff in her room. There were plenty of nooks and crannies in our house where she could have dispersed the more important items that would directly show my real identity. And with Noelle supervising my every move, it’s not like I could start tearing the house apart. Running next door was still questionable as well, until I had enough of a moment to myself and a path that wouldn’t draw her attention too early. Honestly, the only worthwhile idea I could think was getting her to call Miley’s parents. Or my parents, maybe. If the rebellious teen down the street needed to be watched all weekend, there was a good chance her parents didn’t want to be disturbed and/or were unavailable to answer the phone. But my parents . . . what were the chances Noelle would assume it was a ploy? For all I knew, Miley could have pulled a similar stunt in the past. Maybe she had a friend or a friend’s older sister who was good at impressions, and said conspirator could sound enough like Miley’s parents over the phone to call a former babysitter off. I knew girls who used tactics like that to ditch school. And with so few options left, I didn’t want to waste one like that unless I was sure it wouldn’t somehow backfire on me. For now, I’d have to be content with putting on my best push-up bra. It wouldn’t solve the main issue, but at least Paige and her friends wouldn’t see how flat chested I was without a bit of support. I don’t know how I didn’t see it coming. After what she had done to my closet and the rest of my room, I should have braced myself when it came to yet another part of my wardrobe. As I opened the top drawer to pick something out from my decent collection of lingerie, my eyes slightly widened as I took in the sight waiting for me. Most of my nice colors and lace numbers had been removed. The only underwear left was white or nude for the most part, with a handful of pinks and purples I had never seen before. Plain panties, with the most basic cut, despite how I normally had a variety of styles. What my sister or her friends did to my underwear, however, paled in comparison to what they did to my bras. Every single one had been taken from the drawer and, in their place, was a small stack of training bras. For a few long seconds, I just stared. Was Paige serious right now?! I didn’t get long to process the additional invasion. Noelle spoke up again. “Stop stalling, Miley. Pick a bra, or you can go without.” Was it better to not wear one at all? Making a snap decision like that would be a bad idea. So, while internally cursing my sister out, I grabbed the training bra on top of the stack. ------------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And read more of "The Babysitter" (20+ parts) and other stories on my Patreon: www.patreon.com/user?u=73056590
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  37. Chapter 11 Just a moment after me, Mrs. Weber also returned to the group room, and to my dismay, we continued the game in which it was still my turn. I had to stand in the middle again and guess who the gray slippers belonged to. My guess of Marie was incorrect, and so I unenthusiastically kept guessing until I finally identified the right girl. I didn't care that I had taken by far the most attempts out of everyone. I just wanted to go home and get out of this awful diaper. The game had barely ended when the first children were already being picked up by their parents. Of course, our mother was not among them; she would likely show up just before closing time, as she did almost every day, since she had so many important things to do in her silly law firm. In the end, only Melanie, my sister, and I were left in the group room, along with Mrs. Weber. I listlessly scribbled in the coloring book that lay before me when the door opened. I immediately looked up, hoping to see my mother's face, but unfortunately, it was not my mother who had entered. A girl with long, red hair stood in the doorway. She smiled warmly at us as she noticed us, inevitably revealing the metal braces that encircled her teeth. It took me a moment to realize that the teenage girl was Lea. Lea was not only the older sister of Lisa, the girl in our group who had started the Shoe Salad game, but she had also babysat my little sister several times. However, I knew her only briefly, though, and couldn't remember ever having exchanged a single word with her. "Oh, Lea, what are you doing here? Lisa was picked up by your mother a long time ago. Did she forget something?" Mrs. Weber wondered about Lea's appearance. "I know, but I'm not here for my sister. Sophie and Emily's mother asked me on short notice to pick them up, as she's still busy at her law firm." I froze instantly. This couldn't be true. How could my mother dare to have this teenage girl pick me up? Lea was not only a student, but she was even younger than me. This couldn't be right. I was the older one; if anything, I should have been picking up Lea. I mean, a sheep doesn't lead the shepherd home, after all. Unlike me, Mrs. Weber didn't seem to have a problem entrusting us to someone younger than me. From Frau Weber's point of view, I was just a kid, no matter what my actual biological age was, and Lea was mature enough to take care of me and my sister. "Oh, I see. Great. Wait a moment, I'll quickly fetch their things," she told Lea and went to the tiled side room. While I sat there, frozen, my sister rushed to the young girl and practically threw her arms around her. "I've missed you so much," Sophie beamed, clinging tightly to the red-haired girl. "I've missed you too, Sophie," Lea replied affectionately. "Will we play something together tonight when you watch over us?" my sister asked with big eyes. "Of course, if we find time for it, we can definitely play something." It was obvious how much Sophie liked the girl, but it wasn't hard to excite my little sister. Mrs. Weber returned to the room with a plastic bag. My head instantly began to heat up when I realized it contained my soiled clothes. "Oh, did Sophie have an accident today?" Lea asked with a concerned tone as she took the bag. "No, Sophie has been very good about using the potty today. I can't even remember the last time she had an accident. I was actually going to tell her mother that it's no longer necessary for her to wear pull-ups for kindergarten. I think she's ready to wear regular underwear. Would you be so kind as to pass that message on, though I'll still try to reach her mother by phone," said Mrs. Weber. Sophie couldn't stop beaming. Sophie's development was the polar opposite of my own. While I had been having more and more accidents in recent weeks and barely made it to the potty, she seemed to have turned a corner. Not only was she completely dry during the day, but she also had no more accidents at night. My mother had long since stopped using diapers or pull-ups for her at home, allowing her to wear regular underwear. Only for kindergarten, out of caution and consideration for Mrs. Weber, had she still dressed her in pull-ups. At least until now. Distressed, I realized that I was now the only one in our house who wore diapers and pull-ups. And as if all that wasn't bad enough already, Mrs. Weber began to recount my accidents from today in great detail and without any embarrassment to Lea. I didn't know where to look, as the whole situation was so mortifying. Why did my mother have to send someone else to pick us up today of all days? After all, there had been days when I had stayed dry. It must surely have been clear to Lea long ago that, since Sophie had not been the culprit, I was responsible for the dirty things in the bag, but that didn't seem to stop Mrs. Weber from going into the subject further. She described my mishaps, mentioned that I had no spare pants available, and that she would therefore still try to reach my mother. Just to be safe, Lea should also remind her about it when she saw her, so I wouldn't find myself without spare clothes again tomorrow. The scene was emblematic of my current life: two adults discussing me as if I were a toddler who couldn't speak or act for itself. After all, Mrs. Weber could have just as well asked me to relay the information to my mother. But in her eyes, I was just a child, a child who did not possess the necessary maturity for such responsible tasks. "What's the matter, Emily? Don't you want to get up? Lea is here to pick you both up," Mrs. Weber said to me after the conversation between the "adults" had ended and I was still sitting at my spot at the drawing table. Unlike my sister, I hadn't immediately stood up and rushed to my new, temporary supervisor. Why would I? I could listen to the embarrassing conversation about me just as well from my seat at the drawing table, and I wasn't particularly eager to leave the kindergarten with Lea either. Without looking up, I finally got up and approached the three of them grumpily. As soon as I stood up, I was reminded of my current underwear – as if I could ever forget. With every step I took, a loud rustling echoed through the room. A fact that, unfortunately, did not go uncommented. "I think Emily isn't in such a good mood today. To protect her last pair of pants, I put one of her nighttime diapers on her. She wasn't too thrilled about that," Mrs. Weber explained to Lea about my sullen behavior. Lea looked at me sympathetically and gently patted my shoulder. It didn't help that even Lea was at least a head taller than me. Next to her, I would look just as small and childlike as I did next to all the other adults in my life. "You'll see, Emily, we'll still have lots of fun," Lea finally said warmly, hoping to cheer me up a bit. "Yeah, Emily, it's always really fun with Lea," my little sister confirmed with a big grin. As nice and warm-hearted as Lea might have been, I could think of many more enjoyable things than being supervised by a teenage girl. I was almost relieved when Melanie suddenly appeared next to us and drew attention to herself. "I have to pee," she shyly revealed. "Is it urgent?" Mrs. Weber instantly inquired. Melanie nodded. "Well, then, let's go!" Mrs. Weber declared and took Melanie by the hand. Briefly, Mrs. Weber said goodbye to us before she scurried into the adjoining room with Melanie in tow. "How about you two? Does either of you need to use the potty before we leave?" Lea suddenly wanted to know. My sister shook her head, after which Lea turned to me. "What about you, Emily? Should I take you to the potty quickly before we head out?" Even though I was unsure whether I needed to use the toilet again - after all, I hardly noticed when I had to go anymore - I was quite certain that the last thing I wanted was to visit the potty in front of Lea. I hastily shook my head. However, unlike my sister, Lea didn't seem to be satisfied with my head shake. "Are you really sure, Emily, that you don't want to go one more time?" she asked insistently. It wasn't that I couldn't understand why Lea was more suspicious of my statement than my sister's; after all, she was currently holding the bag of my soiled clothes, a product of my weak bladder, in her hands. But I couldn't help feeling hurt by the fact that she trusted my four-year-old sister more than me in this regard. "We have to take the bus, and it takes much longer than when you ride home with your mommy in the car," she continued her explanation, apparently trying to get me to use the potty one more time. Great, I hadn't even considered that Lea was too young to have a driver's license, and we would have to walk and take the bus home. Everything was going wrong today. I knew it was unreasonable not to use the toilet one more time before the long journey home, but the last thing I wanted was to use the potty in front of that teenage girl. "No, I just went a little while ago," I lied on the spot, hoping she would stop asking, and to my relief, she seemed satisfied with my answer. My sister and I put on our shoes, and the three of us left the kindergarten together. As soon as we stepped out the door, I wanted to head straight towards the bus stop with quick steps - after all, I knew the way there. But Lea stopped me as soon as I was just a meter away from her, "Please hold my hand or your sister's hand. I don't feel comfortable with you wandering around on your own!" I gave Lea an incredulous look. She couldn't be serious. She was even worse than my mother. I briefly considered defying her instruction now that Mrs. Weber was no longer present, but then I reached for my sister's hand. A discussion wouldn't have helped anyway and would have only unnecessarily prolonged the journey home. Along a picturesque forest path leading to the bus stop, we walked hand in hand through the summer evening light. Warm sunbeams shone through the foliage of the trees, wrapping the surroundings in a golden veil. But I couldn't appreciate the beauty of nature around me. My thoughts were solely focused on the diaper tightly wrapped around my hips. I quickly realized that it was one thing to take a few steps at home or in the kindergarten with the thick nighttime diaper, but it was an entirely different matter to cover a longer distance with the darn thing. The bulky diaper inevitably forced my legs into a slight spread position, making each step more cumbersome than I was used to. And as if that wasn't enough, all of this was accompanied by a constant, loud crinkling sound that even drowned out the rustling of the trees and the whispering of the leaves around us. I was visibly relieved when we finally reached the bus stop. Although Lea informed us that it would still be about a quarter of an hour before the bus arrived, the bench at the stop offered me a welcome opportunity to sit down and no longer be bothered by my diaper. Sophie and Lea, on the other hand, decided to shorten the waiting time with a round of hopscotch. They found a suitable spot next to the bus stop and drew the necessary squares for the game on the ground with a piece of chalk. They took turns enthusiastically hopping on one leg through the fields, extending the game board with an additional square after each round. While I sat in a corner, still weighed down by the events of the day, they seemed to be enjoying life to the fullest. As the bus, an older model in green paint, finally rounded the corner and came to a stop in front of us with a soft squeaking of the brakes, Lea and Sophie ended their game, sweaty and happy. We boarded the bus at the front, near the driver, a friendly middle-aged man with gray hair and crooked glasses. I was the only one among us who needed a ticket. Lea had a monthly pass, and my sister was young enough to ride for free. The times when I took care of things like buying a ticket myself were long gone. By now, I was used to others speaking, acting, or deciding for me in such situations, and so Lea naturally took over the purchase of the ticket for me as we entered the bus. Admittedly, I wasn't exactly unhappy about being able to stay in the background, as this reduced the likelihood of the bus driver noticing the diaper under my overalls, at least a little. "We just need a ticket for the young lady," Lea told the bus driver, pointing at me. "A child's ticket, that'll be 1.80€," he said kindly while tapping the appropriate symbol on his ticket machine. Embarrassed, I looked at the sign hanging in front of his driver's cabin, which listed the ticket prices. "Infants <=5, Children <=12, Juniors <= 17" were the age limits for the ticket rates clearly stated. The damn bus driver had not only assumed I wasn't an adult, but he was so sure that I couldn't be older than twelve that he didn't even consider asking for my age. I didn't know whether to be glad that Lea didn't find it necessary to point out his mistake - after all, she surely knew I was older than twelve - and instead rummaged for the required amount from her wallet and handed it to him. At that moment, I became painfully aware that I hadn't held money in my hands for weeks. Not that I needed it, as there was always a companion who could pay for me, but it symbolized yet another level of my disempowerment since the beginning of my dreadful therapy. Lea took my ticket, and we headed to one of the four-seater spots in the front area. I was careful to keep the rustling of my undergarments as quiet as possible with every movement, and fortunately, the bus engine was loud enough to drown out the sound my diaper made when I moved. I sat by the window facing forward, my sister beside me, and Lea directly across from us. To my relief, the bus we had boarded was only moderately filled. Since it was school vacation, there were just a few elderly passengers on board who were quietly chatting or looking out the window, and fortunately, they didn't seem to pay us much attention. I hated the bus ride home. The few times I had picked up my sister from her new kindergarten were enough to know that the journey home felt like an eternity. A trip that took only 15 minutes by car lasted over an hour by bus. The bus stopped at every tiny village, no matter how big the detour was. That's what the so-called great life in the countryside looked like. Life here was bearable only with a car, and the only people who used public transportation were retirees. No wonder - who else had the time to aimlessly cruise around the area? While Sophie told Lea about her experiences at kindergarten today, I contented myself with looking out the window and observing the passing landscape. Rolling hills, lush meadows and isolated farmsteads passed by my window as the bus drove along the winding country roads. Again and again we stopped at the stops of the small villages. Sometimes people got on and off, but sometimes nothing happened at all, which meant nothing more than that we had visited the village completely in vain. While all this was happening, we remained seated and waited for us to finally reach our destination. We had just a little more than half of the bus ride behind us when I already began to regret my lie to Lea. Out of nowhere, my bladder announced itself to me and once again urgently signaled that it was high time to empty it as quickly as possible. Although I was pretty sure that the bus didn't have a toilet, I furtively glanced to the back, hoping that I was wrong in my assumption. But of course, I wasn't wrong. A public bus had no toilets, so I had no chance to follow the signal from my bladder. Another half an hour would likely pass before we arrived home. In the past, it wouldn't have been a problem for me to ignore the pressure in my bladder for such a short timeframe, but those times were long gone. Now, I was lucky if I lasted five minutes before my bladder discharged its contents on its own. If only I had listened to Lea and gone to my potty one last time at the kindergarten, I wouldn't be in this mess now. And so it happened that, before I could even consider asking Lea to get off at the next stop with us so I could quickly find a place to relieve myself - not that it would have been a practical option at all, considering the next bus wouldn't come for another hour - my urine had already spilled into my diaper. Even my desperate attempt to stop the flow by pressing my legs together hastily couldn't change anything. At least my nighttime diaper proved to be absorbent enough to contain the contents of my full bladder. So, the stupid diaper served some purpose after all. Because worse than having a full diaper was having a urine-soaked pair of pants in public. Unfortunately, Lea was probably already experienced enough in herding children to be able to correctly interpret the subtle signals I was sending out during my accident - even though I had done everything I could to avoid attracting attention. I had continued to look out of the window as if nothing had happened and had tried to avoid any eye contact with my supervisor, but none of this had fooled Lea. Unfortunately she reacted as if an ordinary toddler were sitting in front of her. "Did you just pee, Emily?" she asked me unabashedly, loud enough for the elderly lady sitting on the other side of the four-seater to look up from her book and glance over at us. The elderly lady's gaze instinctively shifted to Sophie, expecting the question to be directed at her. She appeared slightly taken aback when she realized that Lea was looking at me, not Sophie. I was consumed with embarrassment. At first, I wanted to ignore the question, pretend I hadn't heard it, hoping that Lea wouldn't press any further if I just kept desperately gazing out the window. But Lea persisted. "Emily!? Did you just pee?" she asked again, her gaze fixed on me. Shyly, my face beet red, tears already welling up in my eyes, I turned my gaze towards her and gave a slight nod. "It's okay, Emily," she reassured me, gently patting my left leg. "I'll change your diaper as soon as we get home." To make matters worse, my little sister suddenly started blurting out my accidents to the old lady as if it were the most natural thing in the world. "Emily has peed her pants three times today!" she shamelessly declared. Couldn't that little brat keep her mouth shut? "I, on the other hand, always use the potty like a good girl. Mrs. Weber said today that I'm doing so well that I don't need to wear pull-ups in kindergarten anymore!" The old lady smiled at Sophie. "Oh, that's wonderful! You're really mature for your age! I'm sure you're a great role model for your sister." With a mix of shame and anger, I clenched my hands in my lap and continued to stare stubbornly out the window, while the old lady took this as an opportunity to strike up a conversation with our caregiver. "Are you the older sister of the two?" the old lady inquired curiously to Lea. Lea shook her head with a smile. "No, I'm just their babysitter. I look after the girls occasionally when their mother is at work." The stupid cow was acting as if she had taken care of me dozens of times before. The old lady nodded in understanding. "Oh, taking care of children is such a nice job. When I was young, I often took care of children to earn extra money. I often had so much fun doing it that I almost felt like a fraud, charging money for it." Lea laughed and said, "Yes, that's true. It can be really fulfilling. But sometimes the little ones can keep you pretty busy, too." The old lady nodded with a smile. "Oh, I know exactly what you mean. Once, when I was about your age, I was babysitting three children for a neighbor. While I was in the kitchen preparing dinner, they decided to add some color to the plain, sterile design of the living room. When I finished cooking and checked on them, the walls, the table, and even the floor were adorned with their colorful artwork! I desperately tried to clean everything up before the parents returned, but it was hopeless. I'll never forget the expressions on the parents' faces when they came back that evening. I was rarely so embarrassed in my life, but thankfully, in the end, the parents took it all in good humor and weren't upset with me." Lea laughed and shook her head in amusement. "Children are always good for a surprise. Luckily, that hasn't happened to me yet, but I think I'll be careful not to leave children alone with crayons in the future," Lea giggled. The hiss of the bus doors opening interrupted the lively conversation between the two women. "Oh, we're already at our stop! I didn't even realize we had to get off because of all the chatting. Sophie, Emily, we need to get out. Let's go." Lea quickly grabbed our hands and led us toward the exit. "It was really nice talking to you," she said to the old lady. "I also enjoyed our conversation. Take care and goodbye, Sophie and Emily," the lady bid farewell with a smile. "Bye!" Lea and Sophie cheerfully replied. However, I wasn't in the mood for pleasantries. I just wanted to get off the bus, and I quickly made my way to the door without saying a word. Lea, holding my hand, stopped me. "Emily, don't you want to say goodbye to the nice lady?" Reluctantly, I muttered a brief "Goodbye." "I'm sorry, she's not having her best day today," Lea apologized to the old lady for my aloofness. "Take care," Lea said before we finally exited the bus. The journey from the bus stop to our home reminded me once again of the downsides of our new house. As idyllic as it was to live secluded on a hill, it was equally challenging to reach it without a car. Others might have enjoyed the path through the picturesque little village with its pastel-colored houses, winding streets, and flower-adorned front gardens, but I was annoyed by everything around me. Perhaps my soaked diaper played a significant role in evaluating my surroundings. But could you really blame me? It hung cold and heavy on my hips, making the steep ascent even more difficult than it already was. And the longer we walked, the more it began to uncomfortably chafe against my legs. I couldn't wait to finally get out of this unpleasant thing and wear my pull-ups again. After what felt like an eternity, we finally reached our little cottage. It was strange to see Lea pulling out the key for it. She wasn't even a part of our family, yet she had the key to our house, while I didn't even have a key to my own room anymore.
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  38. I did not have bladder or bowel issues until i had back problems. It started with L5-S1 fusion then then L4-5 fusion L3-L4 siscectomy that will turn into a fusion some time soon. I have nerve damage and now scar tissue. i have seen and had lots of spine doctors and no luck. All my DR's know i wear diapers. Diapers use to be fun to wear when ever. Now its been years 24/7 it gets old.
    1 point
  39. Chapter 17 Sandy enjoyed the finger painting. It was nice to just stick her fingers into the pots of paint and let them glide over the paper. The feel of the paint on her hands and how it squished between her fingers brought her back to her childhood, but like every time she thought about her childhood she frowned. The loneliness of her childhood was a constant and that followed her well into her teens, her parents were practically nonexistent in her life. Sandy looked down at the little stick figure family that she had made, and was about to take a big glob of red paint to it when Michelle interrupted her. “You made us!” Michelle exclaimed as she leaned on Sandy to get a better look at the picture. Sandy had made a little green hill with some stick people on it and a yellow sun in the top left corner. “What? No… I was just trying to make a nice picture. That’s it.” Sandy sighed as she turned away and wiped the globe of red paint off of her hands with a paper towel, though her hands were stained red. “No, you made us. See, there is Mommy, Daddy, me, and you.” Michelle said as she pointed to the stick figures, two of them were distinctly bigger than the other two, Sandy had even given the two little ones hair that matched Michelle and herself, brown and black respectively. “I did… I did make us.” Sandy stared at the paper and paint. After a few seconds light tears started to well up in her eyes as she realized that she had painted four figures and not three as she had thought. She had painted her family. “Awww, that is such a cute picture.” Luna smiled as she looked over from her geometric rainbow patterned piece. The amazon had used her nails to get the fine outlines before using her fingers to fill it in, “Are you done with it? I can put it on the drying table and then you can start another one if you want.” Luna said before noticing Sandy was starting to tear up, “What’s wrong sweetie?” Sandy just shook her head and rubbed her eyes with her arm, “Nothing, I’m fine. C-could you put it on the drying table, I wanna show my…” Sandy paused for a bit, “My family.” Lunda nodded and smiled. Just as she was about to pick the paper up she noticed something missing from the paper, “Sweetie, you haven’t signed the painting yet silly.” “Signed it?” Sandy looked at the paper, but before she could say anything else Luna had already grabbed her hand. “What color do you want to sign it with sweetie?” Luna cooed as she gently guided Sandy’s pointer finger towards the paint pots. “Um… red!” Sandy blurted out the first color that came to her mind, it was probably red because that was the last color she had put on her finger even though she had not actually used it for what she had intended to. “That's a good color.” Luna gently dipped Sandy’s hand into the pot before bringing it over to the bottom left corner of the paper, “Do you know how to spell your name?” Sandy nodded, “Yeah, of course.” Sandy took offense to the question. She could still spell her name, stuff like that she couldn’t have forgotten, “It’s S then A then N then D then Y!” Sandy smirked a bit at Luna. Luna chuckled a bit, “Very good sweetie, but can you write that?” Luna smiled. She had seen littles with expressions like Sandy’s, so confident in their abilities only to be surprised when they found out that their writing skills had degraded from minimal use. “Um…” Sandy looked down at the paper. She could picture the letters in her mind but they were fuzzy and she couldn’t picture the exact way to make them. She couldn't believe that her writing skills had degraded so much, “Help please.” Luna smiled and gently placed her fingers around Sandy’s paint covered pointer finger, “Now, let's start with the S. It's like a snake, S for snake.” Luna slowly moved Sandy’s finger along the paper so that it made an S. “S for snake.” Sandy mumbled as she let the amazon move her finger. She should know this, she really should. “Good girl!” Luna praised the little, “Now we are going to move to the A. It looks like a roof. So, A for a roof.” Luna said as guided the finger so that it made an A on the paper. Ms.Hearth looked over at Luna and raised an eyebrow at the example she had used. It was unique to say the least. She would have to talk to Luna about that later. “Next is N. It looks like someone sitting down and getting ready for nap time. So, N is for nap.” Luna smiled, she was proud of herself for thinking about these on the fly. Typically stuff like this was the domain of Cecil or Ms.Hearth, but even then teaching littles anything beyond the very basics was a bit frowned upon by some. Luna gently moved Sandy’s finger to form the N. Sandy watched as Luna guided her hand across the paper. She was remembering the little lesson that Luna was giving her, “Snake, a roof, Nap.” Sandy thought to herself. “Now, D looks like a diaper, D for diaper.” Luna chuckled a bit as she moved Sandy’s finger. That was an easy one for even a little to comprehend. The next one would be a bit more difficult, “Now for the Y…. lets see.” Luna paused for a second, “It looks like someone taking a very big yawn, so Y is for yawn.” Luna nodded a bit to assure herself as she moved Sandy’s hand across the paper to form the Y. “That's it, right?” Sandy looked up at Luna. She was running the pattern through her mind a few times, “Snake, a roof, nap, diaper, yawn.” Sandy thought. “Yep, that’s it. I'm very proud of you for writing your name and I bet your mommy and daddy will be as well. Now, I am going to take this to the drying table, okay?” Luna smiled and pet Sandy on the head before picking up the paper and carrying it over to the table. Ms.Hearth met her at the table. “A roof, really?” Ms.Hearth crossed her arm and shook her head, more in amusement than being actually upset at Luna. “I had to think on my feet, it is not my fault that a capital A looks like a roof.” Luna rolled her eyes before glancing over to the office doors, “Have you heard anything from Cecil, she has been in there for a bit.” Ms.Hearth dismissed Luna’s concerns, “Cecil knows what she is doing. She should be just letting Lilly to relax and then she will coax her out of the sweatshirt.” Ms.Hearth smiled at Luna, “But, if it will make you feel better I will go check up on them, okay?” Luna smiled a bit, “Thank you. I’m sorry about worrying over Lilly when we have so many other littles to look after. I just can’t help but want to give her that extra bit of attention because well.” Luna sighed a bit before being cut off by her boss. “She is different.” Ms.Hearth nodded a bit, “I get it, I do.” Ms.Hearth gave Luna a few pats on the head, “I trust Cecil and I know for a fact that you do too. How long have you known each other?” “Nearly five years now.” Luna nodded a bit in response to Ms.Hearth. She did trust Cecil, she was one of her best friends in the world, “You’re right, I was being foolish.” Ms.Hearth shook her head, “No you were not. You were being caring and that is what we expect of you here.” Ms.Hearth smiled a bit, “Now, I am going to go check on Cecil and Lilly. Can I trust you to hold down the fort?” “Yes Ma’am!” Luna smiled at her boss. “Atta girl.” Ms.Hearth smiled and ruffled Luna’s hair before entering her office and shutting the door behind her. Luna nodded a few times and smiled to herself before getting back to checking on the littles. __________ After Luna had taken her piece of paper to the drying table, Sandy was given another piece of paper, but she didn’t really feel like painting anymore. She was too busy thinking about what would happen during the trip to Earth. After Luna had helped her with her spelling she started to try and go through her mind to figure out what other skills she had lost or were degrading since she had entered the care of her amazons. She had only been in Amazonia for a few weeks at the most, right? Sandy ran through her memories from when she first arrived in the dimension to where she was now. Sandy remembered her pre dimension orientation, the bus ride into the dimension, and there was this guy that she talked to. She couldn’t remember his name, he had kinda blonde frizzy hair, maybe. Sandy shook her head a bit, she met him in passing so it wasn’t a big deal if she didn’t totally remember him. “Whatcha doing?” Charlie asked, disrupting Sandy’s concentration. “I’m trying to think. I’m trying to see if I can remember everything that has happened since I left Earth.” Sandy sighed a bit, she could remember the big things that had happened: her finding Michelle, her shooting that amazon at the festival, and then her waking up in her new home. After that her memories get fuzzy, she could remember bits and pieces but not much beyond that. “You sure? Cause it looks like you are trying to pee.” Charlie shrugged a bit before her vision was drawn to the office door opening and two amazons emerging. The tomboy could just make out a little resting in the arms of one of the amazons, “Lilly!” Charlie smiled and ran towards the two amazons. Sandy was amazed, she had never seen a diapered little move that fast. She knew that Charlie was diapered, she had seen the outline in the girl’s overalls when she bent over. “How is she that fast?” Sandy stared in amazement as Charlie made her way to the amazons’ side. “Thin diapers.” Michelle answered as she cleaned her hands with a paper towel, “Her amazons keep her in relatively thin diapers, at least compared to us.” Michelle smiled a bit as she saw Lilly, “Thinner diapers means more frequent diaper changes, which is supposed to help deepen the bond between amazon and little, plus she likes running around which helps her burn off energy.” Michelle shrugged a bit, “She likes them so I guess they work.” “Makes sense I guess.” Sandy nodded, she didn’t think Charlie’s diapers were any different from her and Michelle’s, but then again whenever Charlie needed a change it's not like Sandy was paying attention, quite the opposite. Sandy smiled a bit as she watched Charlie jump around and try and talk with Lilly who was resting in Cecil’s arms, sans sweatshirt. It seems that whatever had gone on inside the office had convinced Lilly to not be a crying mess at the prospect of not wearing her sweatshirt, “Lilly looks better.” “Look who wanted to join you girls.” Cecil smiled as she walked towards Michelle and Sandy’s table, “It took a bit of talking but Lilly feels much better now, isn’t that right sweetie?” Lilly nodded a bit and rubbed her eyes a bit. It did seem like the little had been crying a bit. Lilly’s eyes were slightly red and puffy but not terribly so. To an amazon, littles were an overly emotional bunch so crying was to be expected. “Are you feeling better now?” Charlie asked, any nervous energy left in the girl was finding its way out of the little in the form of little hops Charlie was using to try and get a better look at Lilly. “Yeah, I’m better now. Thank you.” Lilly smiled softly as Cecil set her down next to the table. Lilly was now wearing a soft gray t-shirt that came down to just about her sweat pants, allowing for Sandy to see the very top of the girl’s diaper. “Alright girls, do you think that you can help Lilly get started with her painting?” Cecil asked the assembled littles as she helped Lilly into one of the plastic chairs. “Yeah!” Charlie replied, happy to have her friend back. Within seconds Charlie had moved most of the painting supplies to where Lilly had sat down, “Feeling better Lilly?” “Yeah, Cecil calmed me down and then we talked for a bit.” Lilly smiled softly as she started to stick her fingers in a pot of green paint. “What kinda stuff?” Charlie asked as she hovered around Lilly’s shoulders. “Stuff stuff.” Lilly just shrugged a bit, it seemed like the little didn’t really want to talk about it. Seeing this, Sandy decided to intervene. “Hey, Charlie. Why don’t you help Ash with her finger painting? It looks like she could learn a thing or two from you.” Sandy said as she glanced over at the new little, a look of mild annoyance spread across Ash’s face. “What? I don’t need any help!” Ash piped up as Charlie quickly switched from hovering around Lilly to hovering around Ash. “Sure ya do! Look you can put some purple right there and then some blue right there!” Charlie smiled as she started to point and gesture to various spots on Ash’s paper. “Thanks for the diversion. Charlie means well but, she can get a bit… into it.” Michelle whispered to Sandy as they watched Lilly slowly start to move her finger across the paper. “No problem Michelle.” Sandy smiled and gave Michelle a quick peck on the cheek eliciting some giggles from the girl, “I’m always good at distractions.” Michelle smirked and gently shook her head, “Just try not to tick off the amazons.” “I’ll do my best.” She gently booped Michelle’s nose leaving a speck of red paint on the girl’s nose. “Hey!” Michelle giggled and dipped her finger into the green paint before booping Sandy’s nose leaving a similar dot. Sandy smirked and poked Michelle’s face a few more times leaving a few more dots on paint, “There, now you are a masterpiece.” Sandy giggled and stuck her tongue out. “I’ll show you a masterpiece.” Michelle raised her voice and got some of the green paint on her hand before lunging for Sandy. ------------------------ Ms.Hearth looked down at the two paint splattered littles before her desk. The amazon massaged her temples with her hands as she watched Luna try and clean the girls with wet wipes, a pile of multicolored stained wipes already accumulating on the ground. The older amazon inhaled deeply, “Luna, please explain what happened.” “So sorry ma’am!” Luna apologized as she kept trying to clean the girls’ skin of paint. She had given up trying to clean the now paint stained clothes which now laid in a pile by the desk leaving the littles in only their now paint stained diapers, “I turned my back to move some paintings to the drying table and when I turn around they are splashing paint on each other, “So sorry, ma’am. I mess up! Please don’t fire me!” Luna started to tear up as she frantically tried to clean the girl’s up. Ms. Hearth held up a hand, “Luna, stop. Take a deep breath, hold it, count to ten, and then exhale.” The older woman ordered, “I’m not going to fire you.” Luna nodded and did as she was instructed. She repeated the process a few times before wiping her eyes, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake and it won't happen again.” Ms. Hearth nodded, “I know dear. To be honest it is honestly impressive that they managed to get their clothes dirty even though they were wearing smocks. Just goes to show how littles are, you can’t keep your eyes off them for a second when messy substances are involved.” The woman smiled, “Let this be a learning experience dear, you can head back out, I will deal with these two personally.” “Yes ma’am.” Luna nodded as she gathered up the stained wet wipes and exited the office. “Now then.” The amazon couldn’t help but smile at the two littles, “What am I going to do with you two?” END OF CHAPTER
    1 point
  40. I keep waiting for someone in this story to be unmasked as a Donnie Brasco character destined to bring this whole rickety house of cards tumbling down. If Heller has been doing due diligence in the form of background checks, there is no indication of it anywhere in the story to date. And that's odd, because the feds just love to go after this sort of thing. The fines for violation of equal opportunity rules alone would run into the millions here.
    1 point
  41. Forty-Eight It had been a while since I was in the men’s room at the office. I used to at least stop by on occasion to wash my hands, but more recently I was just keeping a large bottle of hand sanitizer at my desk. It seemed to make more sense–considering how many times my hands were coming in contact with diapers. Usually used, or in the process of being used. It had been even longer since I sat in one of the stalls. Even before I entered this age of diapers, I was staunchly against pooping at work. Just the thought of it gave me anxiety. People hearing the noises your ass made? The sound of things dropping into the water? What if you were judged for how many times you pulled toilet paper from the rolls? What if it stunk up the whole bathroom? I could never perform under those obstacles. But, the stall did make for a good hiding place. If I hadn’t been so distraught, I probably would’ve had more appreciation for the fact that I was sitting on a toilet for the first time in a long while–wearing a diaper while I did so. I had a lot to think about. A lot to process. In the stall next to me, someone was busy using the toilet as it was intended. It was loud. Smelly. If nothing else, I felt vindicated about my own toilet habits. Even if they didn’t seem to care. No longer a hospitable environment for thinking, I left and slowly meandered back to my desk–my walk still something closer to a waddle, due to my heavy diaper. Lyndie was waiting for me there. “Hey,” she said. “Did you still need me? We could take care of your, uh, problem.” I could at least appreciate that she hadn’t just talked about my wet diaper in the middle of the office for once. “No,” I said. “I’m good, thanks.” “You’re…good? You got a change already?” “Not yet.” “How are you ‘good’ then? C’mon. We’ll go back to my office and I’ll take care of you.” “Actually, I think I’m just going to head out,” I said. “I’ll catch you later, though.” “Clark, you’re being weird. Weirder than usual.” Am I weird? “Sorry, it’s just been a long day and I’m under a lot of stress, so I think I’m just going to head home and…” “If it’s because I couldn’t see you earlier, I’m sorry. I just had to take care of something else.” “Huh? Oh, uh, no… It’s cool.” I was no actor, but this felt like a pretty solid performance. “Are you sure you don’t want to swing by for a second? You’ll be in and out in a few minutes with a brand-spanking-new…” “Sorry,” I said, cutting her off before she, likely, said the d-word aloud in the office, “I really do need to be heading out. But I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Sure,” she said, feigning an optimistic smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” She looked a little hurt, I thought. But it was a painful conversation for me too. I wanted her to change my diaper, and certainly could’ve used one. But until I knew more about why she had been talking to Pritchard in the nursery, I felt like I couldn’t fully trust her. That hurt. I quickly gathered my things and began to make my way out of the office, fully committed to curling up in a ball on my bed later. “Leaving a little early today?” asked Ava, intercepting me in the hallway. If I had to run into anyone, I was glad it was her. “I was going to. But…hey, were you doing anything tonight?” She thought about it for a moment. “No, I don’t think so. Why?” It was a spur of the moment question, but having company seemed a little better than wallowing in loneliness. Besides, maybe Ava was the exact person I needed to talk to about whatever was happening with Pritchard and Lyndie. “Maybe it’d be nice to get some food or something?” Her cheeks seemed to get a little more pink. “Are you asking me out on a date, Clark?” Was I? I supposed that it did sound that way. “Oh, I don’t know about a date. I just thought that…” “Yeah, I’d love to go out,” she said. Out? Like ‘out for drinks?’ Or like ‘out on a date?’ “Perfect,” I said. “Where and when?” “Anytime, I guess,” I said. “I just need to go home and change and then I'll be ready to go whenever.” “Change?” she asked, smirking. “Are we talking about your clothes? Or your…” I nodded. “It all needs a good change.” “By the time I get out of here, I’ll need a good change myself,” she said. “I can meet up with you later. 7-ish?” “Sounds good,” I said. We picked a place to eat that was more central to both our locations. Really, she just named a place–a little diner–that she thought might be between us. She could’ve picked a place on the moon for all I cared. But it was done–plans were made. We were going out. By the time I got back to my apartment building, I felt a little dampness in the leg of my pants near the bottom of my diaper. Wetting it one more time on the train probably hadn’t been the best idea, but I rarely gave those sorts of things consideration anymore. Still, I wasn’t too concerned about it. I was home–or close enough. I jumped on the elevator and hit the shining ‘5.’ Home sweet home. But when the elevator door opened, I was surprised to see someone standing there in the hallway. And not just anyone–it was Pizza Girl. “Uh, hi there,” she said, waving. Does she…recognize me? “Oh, hey. Dropping off some, uh, pizza?” She laughed, nodding. “That’s kind of what I do. Actually, I was just dropping it off at your place.” She remembers where I live? “Oh…it must’ve been my roommate.” “I figured,” she said, shrugging. “I’m, uh, not used to anyone else opening the door.” Okay, so she absolutely recognizes me. “Well, it’s good to see you,” I said, stepping off the elevator as she stepped on to it. Our bodies briefly brushed against each other, and all I could hear was crinkling. My face turned a bright red. It seemed impossible that I could see her without humiliating myself somehow. There was no doubt that she heard that too. And she, undoubtedly, could guess that I just wore diapers all the time. But I looked into the elevator again as the doors closed. She was waving goodbye. Her cheeks looked almost as red as mine. What did she have to be embarrassed about? There wasn’t much time to ponder my latest embarrassing run-in with her, though. Between the time it took to get home, the time it’d take to get ready, and the time it’d take to get over to the diner Ava picked out, there wasn’t much time to spare. “Aw, you just missed the pizza delivery girl!” Evan said as I burst through the door. “Also, I got us pizza for dinner.” “That was, honestly, very nice of you,” I said. “But I actually have plans.” “You? Plans?” “Meeting with Ava tonight. And then, while I’m thinking about it, I think I’m going to Mommy–er, my boss’s–place tomorrow. And don’t forget that my mother is coming on Saturday morning.” “Wow, look at you, Mr. Social. And there’s so much to unpack there. Is this a date with you and Ava tonight?” “N-no, I don’t think so.” Though I wasn’t entirely sure myself. “And does Mommy know you’re going out on a date?” he teased. “I just said that I didn’t think it was a date! We’re friends!” “Alright, sure. And you’re going to your boss’s place tomorrow? Come on. That seems like a big deal.” “It probably is,” I said. “But if I think about that right now, I’ll probably have a panic attack. Let’s shelve that topic for now.” “Do I need to do anything in anticipation for your mother’s arrival?” “I don’t think so, but I appreciate you asking.” Ideally, yes, we’d completely redecorate the apartment so that it didn’t look like two early 20-somethings lived here. In a perfect world, the apartment would be classy enough to complete the picture I was crafting with brunch at a fancy restaurant. And my faux-girlfriend Lyndie. Wait. Was that still going to happen now? Another thing to ponder later. “You’re changing, right?” he asked. “That was my plan,” I said, feeling a little offended. “What’s wrong with this outfit, though?” “Oh nothing,” he shrugged. “It’s just your, uh, diaper. I’ve started to notice this little waddle you get sometimes. I suspect it’s when your diaper is full?” “Ugh. You seriously notice that?” Who else noticed such a thing? “Honestly, it’s pretty subtle.” He shrugged again. “Maybe I only notice it because we live together and I see you walking around a lot?” Yeah, but do you know who else sees me walking around a lot? Everyone I work with. “Okay, thanks,” I said, hoping my tone made it obvious how sarcastic I was being. Yet another thing to think about later and grow anxious over. In my bedroom, with the door closed and my pants off, I found myself feeling a little more comfortable. I’d be hesitant to say that I was in my ‘natural state’–no pants and saggy diaper between my legs–but it felt more right than the slacks I wore to the office did. Lately, that’s how I saw myself in my daydreams–waddling about in just a diaper like I was a toddler. In the past–in what felt like a different life, at this point–this would’ve been a prime opportunity to lie back in bed and have a few minutes alone with my cock. A brief reprieve from the stresses and expectations of the world. An emotional reset button, of sorts. But when I collapsed in my bed and pawed at the front of my diaper–feeling the stiff and unyielding cage under it–I remembered that I didn’t even have that pleasure anymore. It had only been a few days since Seattle–but I was already craving pleasure like the kind experienced there. I hoped that Mommy wouldn’t make me wait as long as she did between when the cage was first put on my cock and Seattle. Maybe tomorrow? But that seemed way too far away. I settled for just taking a few minutes to feel the bloated padding with my hand, squeezing the plastic gently and feeling the wetness press against my skin and cage. It had been a while since I enjoyed the simple pleasures of diapers–just the wet padding and soft crinkle of the plastic. But the sound brought to mind my brief encounter with Pizza Girl at the elevator. My diaper–just as soaked then as it was now–made a different kind of crinkling noise then. It was…crisper. Like a fresh diaper, not the soaking wet one that I was wearing. And so that crinkling noise might not have been me. And so… Oh, I couldn’t let myself start thinking crazy things like that. I simply wasn’t remembering the noise correctly. I had to get ready. There’d be plenty of time to grope my diapers later. Begrudgingly, I untapped the diaper and opened it up, the air feeling cool on my damp skin. I briefly flirted with the idea of calling Ava and just inviting her over to my place. We could just hang out in my room, crawling around in diapers and acting like babies. I wouldn’t–I couldn’t even imagine me saying the words aloud to her. But it was a nice idea. Instead, I changed myself into a new diaper, adding a little extra powder to my groin in the hope that I’d be avoiding a rash from sitting in this last wet diaper for as long as I had. Is that even how baby powder works? Seemed like something Mommy would know. Or Lyndie. Nope. Don’t think about Lyndie tonight. Getting out of the house again helped to improve my mood some. Between the fresh diaper, some new clothes, and having actual plans, I felt sufficiently distracted as I made my way to the diner. It would be good to see Ava. “You’re late,” she said, already standing outside of the diner when I arrived. “It’s 7:02,” I said, glancing at the time on my phone. “I’d say that counts as being on time.” “Interesting,” she said, smiling. “I wasn’t sure if Mommy had taught you how to tell time yet.” “Just as I’m surprised you were able to pull yourself off of your mommy’s tit long enough to make it here tonight.” We hugged each other and it felt good. I could feel that we both needed that. I could feel my “So,” she said when we were finally seated in a booth. “You looked a little distraught when you were leaving the office today. What was that about?” “We’re going to jump into it so soon?” She shrugged. “Well, I didn’t want to talk about my own problems, so I figured we’d talk about yours.” It was a little relieving to be reminded that she had stresses and problems in her own life. “I was almost hoping we could use tonight to distract ourselves from problems,” I said. “You know how friends work, right? You’re supposed to be able to talk about those sorts of things.” “Sure, sure,” I said. “Distractions first. Then we can get into the meatier stuff.” Ava shrugged and smiled. “So I heard you had a spectacular accident in your diaper yesterday. With a bunch of execs in the room?” I laughed, unsure if this counted as a ‘distraction’ or not. “You heard about that?” “Mom–er, Ms. Beaufort–was there, remember? Of course she was going to tell me about it.” Even in a huge office building, our world was remarkably tiny. “Yeah, that makes sense.” “How was it?” she asked, her lips cracking into a slight grin. “How was…messing my diaper in front of an audience like that?” She nodded, looking a little more hungry for an answer now. “Come on, Clark. We both know it was humiliating and shameful and all that. But I think you and I also see the other side of it that nobody else sees.” “Which, uh, side is that?” “The side where we love feeling so humiliated and ashamed?” I instinctively drew in a long breath, surprised to have been called out like that. My cheeks felt bright red again, and my body seemed to be stuck in place. But she was right. I expelled the air from my chest and started to laugh. “Yeah,” I said. “You’re right. It was fucking incredible.” People like Ms. Heller and Lyndie were well aware of my love of the humiliation they dished out. But they didn’t completely get it. Ava got it. “Tell me about it?” she asked, sliding forward a little in her side of the booth to be closer to me across the table. If I thought about it much more, I probably wouldn’t have said a word. I’d have overthought every part of the story and struggled to find the words to describe how I felt. But I just opened my mouth and started talking instead–hoping that I’d just find the words as I went. “I had already wet the diaper pretty heavily, and she was making me just sit there on the floor of her office. And then people just started showing up. And they all walked past me, barely acknowledging my presence. But, like, I think I really…” “Loved it?” Ava asked, completing my sentence. I nodded. “I know that feeling. I love it. It’s like the adults are too busy to pay attention to the baby. Or, maybe, we’re just pieces of stinky…” “Furniture?” I asked, this time finishing her sentence. She laughed and nodded. “Exactly.” “So I was sitting there, and all those people were around me–talking to each other like I wasn’t there. And I felt trapped there, you know? Like I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything. I was just stuck in my own head while they did their best to ignore me. And the longer I sat there in my wet diaper, the more I found myself craving this, I dunno…complete and utterly devastating humiliation?” Ava nodded again. “I know that feeling, yes. Well.” “And it wasn’t just that I was thinking that messing my diaper sounded like the best option, right? I had managed to convince myself that it was the only option. I had to do it. I was a baby, and this was what babies did. Like, I think I would’ve been more upset at myself if I hadn’t pooped my pants.” It felt intensely cathartic to say those words aloud. I looked around the diner, seeing other people in booths and at tables. Servers bustling back and forth with menus and trays of food. Nobody was looking at us. Nobody cared. And here we were, talking about pooping our pants. It felt amazing. “I pooped my pants in the back of an Uber last week,” Ava suddenly blurted out. Judging by how red her cheeks got, I suspected she either didn’t mean to be so blunt about it or she didn’t mean to say it as loud as she had. I glanced around the diner again. Still no wandering eyes to our table. In fact, I realized I could barely make out the words being said at any of the tables around us. Even with the louder tables, the voices just sounded like streams of featureless noise. I felt reassured. “Really?” I asked. I was very interested in hearing this story. “On purpose? What happened?” “It’s funny,” she said, shrugging. “The further away we get from that moment, the less sure I am if it was an accident or if I had wanted to do it or not. Like, I didn’t get into the car thinking that I was going to do it. I don’t even think I knew that I had to go when I first got in the car. But suddenly it just, like, hit me, you know? Like I just had this overwhelming need–urge, maybe–to lean forward and push everything in my bowels into my diaper.” “Like a baby,” I said, nodding. She laughed. “Right. Like a baby. So… I did it. With no consideration for the driver. This poor guy. He’s just trying to do his job, and he’s been super-nice to me. But then I’m in his backseat, pushing this huge mess into my diaper. I was, like, grunting. You know? When you have to push hard?” “I know all about that, yes.” “I apologized profusely and swore it was an accident. And I’m sure he believed me. I doubt he knew that I was wearing a diaper. And what lady goes into an Uber just to purposefully poop their pants?” “So? What happened after that?” “Well I couldn’t go home to clean myself up. And I couldn’t go run the errands I had intended to do while wearing a stinky diaper. So…I asked the driver if he could take me, instead, to the one place I knew I could get some help.” “The office?” She nodded. “Yup. It was after hours and barely anyone was there. No Ms. Beaufort. No Lyndie. Not even Ms. Heller. So I went into Ms. Beaufort’s office, locked the door behind me, and spent a good half hour cleaning myself up.” That was a lot to take in. Those mental images would stick with me for a long time. And good thing, too–I wanted to remember them again if there ever came a day that this cage wasn’t wrapped around my cock. As it was, I could feel the uncomfortable throb of my shriveled manhood in my diaper. “You couldn’t go home?” I asked. She sighed. “N-no.” “Why not?” “I, uhm, thought that we were using tonight to avoid talking about our problems?” “A wise little baby once told me that friends are supposed to be able to talk about these sorts of things.” She rolled her eyes, laughing a little. “I hate being so wise.” “Is everything okay at home?” “Well…I wasn’t really ready to talk about this. But I guess there’s no time like the present. Do you remember the other day when I told you I had something I wanted to tell you?” “Of course,” I said. The smile slowly faded from her face and she folded her hands in front of her at the table. “Clark, I’m leaving the company.”
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  42. Just noticed we are on page 136 of this thread! That's a shit-load of poopy diapers!
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  43. Chapter 2: A Moment of Courage and Cowardice I rubbed my arm where the Band-Aids had just been applied by a matronly worker at First Aid. She was efficient and I appreciated her calm ministrations without over-babying me. I had been into the ABDL lifestyle in some form for over half my life now, but this was my first convention ever and I was still wading into the new territory of public display. For almost a day now, the convention had been running officially and puppies, furies, littles, bigs, princesses, and so many others now lined the halls. Where bar patrons had once sipped their whiskey sours and Manhattans, diapered patrons in all manner of clothing now sat and idled about the room; diapers evident but covered according to convention policy. It was still a few hours before the bar opened, but a seat there was as good as any other in the hotel. My own little side had been wanting to burst out all day and join the others who had been coming to these for years, but I still felt a pull in my head that was keeping me from doing so. The blockage had subsided substantially during the nerf war I had just come from and where I had initially gotten injured. I had painted my powerful nerf pistol back home and was immensely proud of it as I shot six rounds at the other side in a matter of seconds. Our side by the ball pit was victorious in the beginning but our members had dwindled to only a dozen or so by the end. Large guns and seeking shelter behind the rectangular barriers adorned in different patterned fabrics proved no match for the jungle gym side, and we lost the last few rounds. It was frustrating but I had to jokingly remind myself that babies can only play like that for so long. ‘I guess more than an hour is too much for them.’ Once satisfied the bandage wouldn’t fall off, I made my way downstairs to the preschool room and took a seat at one of the wobbly stools by a table littered in crayons, colored pencils, markers, and scraps of paper. I had been in here yesterday, but I had only created a small drawing. Today, I was determined to finish the Alice and Wonderland artwork I had started this morning. After sitting with a ‘poof,’ I quickly got to work with my markers once again and started to color in Alice’s dress. Coloring had always made me feel little in the past and was often a way I calmed down during stressful times, even when occupying a more adult mindset. When I was actually younger, drawing had been at the top of my go-to activities, so being at a place where youthful energy abounded, it was only natural for me to fall back onto these old habits. It didn’t help that the markers were smellable or that the pencils were oversized. I was too engrossed in the robin blue markings I was applying to Alice’s dress that I didn’t notice someone in front of me until I heard, “Can I join you?” I looked up and a sandy-haired and blue-eyed man dressed in a teddy bear onesie that bulged thickly around his groin stood in front of me. It contrasted with my own skull and cross bone onesie and shortalls. More immature… babyish… free… “Sure. This seat is open.” I gestured to the green mini chair next to me. “Thanks.” He sat down with his own audible ‘poof’ and began vigorously coloring the individual accessories that could be cut out and then placed on the figure-like doll. Already, other figures with wings, puppy ears, diapers, and onesies already adorned the wall from the previous day’s activities. It interested me, but I had to finish my drawing first, now with a long pink table that Alice was sitting at. After a moment, I decided to strike up a conversation. I had always heard about making friends here, but I hadn’t really gotten to know anyone beyond a name or two yet. “I’m Percy.” I extended my hand to shake. The man smiled back and shook my hand. “Derek. Good to meet you, Percy. First con?” “Yeah. You?” “Nah. This is my fourth. One of the best parts of my year.” “I can definitely see that. Everyone here is so open. It’s nice…” I began to blush, thinking about all the variety of kinks and outfits I had seen on display in my brief time here so far. Having been raised in a more conservative household when it came to anything beyond a coverall of ‘love is love,’ the convention had been a shock, but a pleasant one to know that I could have a place to finally fit in. “I know what you mean. During the work week, I’m part of a marketing team, but here, I’m three at most and I can just be myself. Got anything planned for later?” I had a few events I knew I wanted to go to, but the past few weeks had changed my mind about one of them. I had heard about the dark room from several reviewers of past cons, and all had suggested at least going to the orientation to leave it open as an option. There was no clause where you had to go back afterward. Having traveled into the city the other night, I had gained a sense of courage. The city was one giant platform of steel, glass, and stone that had shone brilliantly yesterday when I had checked out the art museum, but the night before on Wednesday had been foggy, windy, and raining. The entire city seemed to moan and then ooze with grime and seediness. I couldn’t help but feel that it was a perfect stand in for Gotham with the green and purple lights leftover from St. Patrick’s Day, though the dark justice league socks I had been wearing secretly probably didn’t help with that notion. My current superman socks and the nerf war had also added to the nice feeling of courage I now possessed. “I was thinking of maybe the…” I lowered my voice, “dark room orientation in a little bit. I don’t know. Maybe?” “Ooh. What a coincidence. I was thinking the same. I missed it yesterday catching up with a few people and slept in this morning, so I think it would be the perfect time, but maybe? Having some reservations?” I mulled it over and thought of the brief descriptions some seemed to give about it when I was trying to research the convention in the first place. What I could find reminded me of one of my exes who was into the stricter side of the taboo community. Spankings and bondage seemed light faire compared to what went on in that room. My imagination crept in though over the lack of information and filled in all the possibilities of what people weren’t saying. I hated the unknown and the dark room seemed to perfectly encapsulate the whole notion of ‘not knowing.’ “Just a bit, yeah. Is it obvious?” “Maybe a little, but I wouldn’t worry about it or the dark room. It’s perfectly natural to get a little shaky about that room, but this is just orientation. Nothing bad. How about this? If you don’t mind the company, we could go together. Strength in numbers, right?” Despite my previous courage, my knee had started bouncing and shaking in anticipation of what could follow based on where my imagination was taking me. Derek was right about strength in numbers though. Company would be nice, and I doubted I would get this type of offer again. “Yeah. That’d be great.” I tried to keep my emotions in check and downplayed how much I appreciated his gesture. “Perfect.” Derek looked down at my drawing and noticed my knee still shaking. “Alice in Wonderland?” Derek was trying to take my mind off the room. ‘Good guy.’ “Yep. This place feels so trippy, it kind of felt natural. Plus, I’m a bit of a fan. If you couldn’t tell,” I propped up my lanyard and showed off my pins. Some were from the con itself, but I had gotten some of the others from past conventions I had attended elsewhere. ‘Hard to go wrong with a smiley face.’ In the middle of the left side, I was holding up was a playing card with Alice proudly displayed on it with roses to confirm my love of the story and movie. “Ah. Very nice. I like your pins.” He looked down at his own lanyard. “I completely forgot to bring some other pins myself this year. Oh well. Always next year.” I smiled and nodded. Despite the on-going convention, everyone kept talking about next year. If my time here was any indication so far, I couldn’t blame them for already wanting to come back. Derek and I joked for the next 30 minutes, and we both continued our respective projects. He quickly finished a near-self-portrait of a cut-out cartoon version of himself before I had even finished the Mad Hatter in my own creation, but he had nicely waited for me until about ten minutes before the orientation and kept cracking jokes. He then checked his watch. “We probably should head upstairs to get in line for the orientation.” “There’s a line?” “There’s almost always a line. Nothing too big, but it’s good to go a little early.” Derek stood up and stretched, his onesie straining against his prominent diaper. I stared briefly at it in wonder of his lack of caring or what others were seeing but I didn’t want to be caught, so I snapped back to my drawing. From my previous view in the mirror, I knew my own shortalls bulged slightly with my own relatively poorly adjusted diaper, but they almost formed a shield in my mind of preventing others from truly seeing what I had underneath. I looked at my still unfinished creation and knew it could wait. I was unlikely to be more confident once I had finished it and was even less likely to find someone that I got along with to come with me again. “Right. Let’s go.” Derek nodded and stuck his creation to the wall with the others. I rolled up my sheet and gently slid it into the back of my drawstring backpack next to the tiger I had brought from home. He was named “Stripe.” Not original mind you like some of the other names I had heard since I had arrived, but I had thought of the name one day and couldn’t shake it to come up with another one. If nothing else, it was easier to remember. After meandering through the lower crowds, the odd single staircase connecting the bottom floor to the main floor, and the lounging people on the extra-large couch or near the still empty bar, we made it to a long corridor with the dark room at the end of it. Pushing past some of the doors that lead to the con’s vendors, we nabbed our place in line. As Derek had predicted, there were already a few lined up in front of us. A casual check of my phone in my front pocket confirmed there were still a few minutes until we were allowed in. I made a mental note to bring a wristwatch next year to prevent me from continually pulling out my phone. A ban of photos seemed to make everyone nervous each time I had pulled my phone out, so a watch just seemed like a better idea at this point. My mind wandered for a second thinking of all the childish patterns I could even get if I wanted to, but Derek spoke up and drew my attention back to reality. “Made it,” Derek said, looking around, “and in just the perfect spot too. Not too early to seem overly eager, but not too late to seem like we’re looking for punishment.” He gave a small playful and wicked smile at the end. “Punishment?” “Just a figure of speech, Perce. Remember, this is just the orientation.” He saw my demeanor stiffen up and nearly shrink away. “If it helps, just keep thinking of that.” “Thanks, but whew… you had me worried there for a…” “Actually, they changed the rules this year.” Derek looked behind me and I spun around to be greeted by a woman who had at least a few inches over me and was wearing mostly black leather and a pair of heels that gave her another few inches. If she fell on the little side of the spectrum at the con, she had the biggest case of denial I had ever seen. Rather than innocent enjoyment, her look only made me want to swallow dryly in fear. “At the end, they give a demonstration.” “Demonstration?” I asked tentatively. “Yes. Any first years are game…” Her eyes flashed with an evil that made me weak at the knees. If I ever were to have a nightmare about this place, those intense green eyes would peer directly into my soul as we descended into a nightmare in the room we were about to enter. “Little boys always get selected by this group. Are you a little boy?” “I… I…” “That’s a yes. Those skulls and crossbones don’t do you justice. You’ll be spotted a mile away… is that a smiley face?” I looked down at my lanyard and back at the lady in terror as she focused on the yellow button. “Oh, it is. Oh, sweetie. You’ll definitely get selected. I’m sure of it. My guess…” “Knock it off, Nix. You’ve had your fun. Now stop.” Derek spoke up from behind me. He then placed a hand on my shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t pay any attention to her, Perce. This is Nix. She’s always trying to rattle everyone’s cages beforehand.” “I remember rattling your cage last year, Der.” I felt Derek’s hand grow weak on my shoulder, but it remained. If I had turned to look at Derek, he probably had just lost some of the resolve in his stance and was either blushing or cowering over her jest. I, however, did not want to turn my back on Nix. Her shiny heels were enough to intimidate me. ‘Who knows what she would do if I wasn’t watching her?’ “I see little Der-Der is already properly padded. I hope you’re properly padded as well… what’s you name little one?” “P… Percy.” ‘Dang it.’ I internally curse myself. ‘Wrong move. I definitely should not have responded to ‘little one.’ I should have protested that. Ugh.’ “Ah. Percy. Excellent! I recognize that cute little onesie underneath from anywhere. Given it and your waddle here, I’d bet anything you were.” She began playing with her springy black wristband. “Good thing too. It can get a little intense in there.” She then let go of her wristband and it snapped shut. Smack! I involuntarily jumped a bit at the loud crack in front of me. I saw it coming but I was too engrained in her domineering presence to bolster against the snap. My imagination was also running wild with Nix in front of me. I could feel my previous bouts of courage leaving me, and the superman socks might as well have been ducks for all the good they were doing me in bolstering my nerves. ‘So much for the brave Percy.’ “Let it go, Nix. You’re obviously making this one uncomfortable. Cut it out,” A sing-song voice behind her called out. Despite my fear of Nix still, I briefly looked away and spotted a shorter woman behind her sporting a pair of fishnets, a purple tutu, and a thick diaper that just peaked out from underneath. She then looked at me directly. “Derek is right. Don’t pay any attention to her, sweetie.” She then looked past me. “Hey Derek.” She looked happy at his presence and gave a small nod of her head.” “Hey Naddie. Good to see you, but I would have thought you would have done this already.” “True, but there’s so much to do this year. It’s pretty great but this is the first second I’ve had free.” “Same, but seriously,” he turned back to Nix, “Nix, back off. I mean it.” I felt nicely protected by Derek and Naddie, despite only knowing them for a combined time of barely an hour. “So, it’s really not that bad?” I managed to spit out. “No, Percy. It’s not, I swear,” Naddie confirmed pleasantly. “Besides, this is literally just orientation. Go and see what you think. You can always back out during it.” “She’s right, Perce. We all know it. Nix is just being an ass. But also, even if you make it through the orientation, you don’t have to go in that room again.” “I…” “Oh wow. I think they’re getting ready to let us in,” Nix butted in. “Oh, man. And that’s Butch.” I swung around and took a look at the muscular bald man now nearing the double doors that were just beyond the line ahead of us. “He’s… something else. I heard he was volunteering this year, but last year… oof. Even gave me a few nice welts on the backside.” She paused and looked dreamily at him. “Oh! Look at that. I think he’s got an eye on you, Percy. Excellent! Butch knows just how to break in the newbies.” I was too distracted by her last comment to notice Butch at that single moment to see if she was telling the truth or not, so my nerves began rapidly building up again with even just the possibility of her telling the truth. My mind continued to reel with the possibilities. I noticed Naddie and Derek speaking up once again, but I was too distracted by my own racing heart to know what they were saying. A few moments later, I think my heart might have actually stopped for a moment when the doors opened with a loud creak. Despite being just a pair of doors to an otherwise normal conference room where some suit and tie type had likely given a presentation last week, the room now represented so much more. Ever since one of my exes had introduced me to that type of scene, I couldn’t help but picture the worst of imaginable fates in there. The rational part of my mind knew that it was just a room, but that part was quickly being overtaken. “Here we go, darling.” Smack! Nix snapped her bracelet back on her wrist and I involuntarily jumped again. Between the doors, Nix’s taunts, and my own cursed imagination, it was too much. My heart raced and I needed to sit down. The doors creaked further and I just got a snippet of what lay inside. Plain as day, a large, padded surface was shrouded in darkness just beyond the entrance. Faint outlines of other equipment lay just beyond, and my ex and years of internet searches down dark roads didn’t allow my mind to play them off as anything but meant for pain. Others could derive pleasure from pain, but that was never really me. Smack! The line began moving forward and I nearly yelped at the sound of Nix’s bracelet smacking again. My knees almost buckled and despite my earlier courage, I knew the truth. I couldn’t do this today no matter how much a true sense of curiosity burned within another side of me. The room sounded fascinating from a distance, but up close, my worst fears just kept toying with my head over and over. It was too much. I quickly bent down and grabbed my drawstring bag that I had laid on the floor while we were waiting and turned to leave. “Wait! Perce, come on. We said we’d do this together. Screw Nix!” “Hey!” Nix shouted back. “Shut it, Nix. Come on, Percy. It will be okay. 20 minutes top and you’re out,” Derek tried to rationalize. “I… I… just can’t do it. Not today. Not never, but just not today. I’m sorry Derek.” I hung my head in shame. “I know I told you I would go with you, but… I just don’t think I can take it right now. Too much…” I pointed to my head, “up here.” Derek’s frustrated and pleading face relaxed. “Oh, I understand. That’s okay, Percy. Just get some water and sit down. We’ll catch up later. No worries.” I smiled. In my time at the con so far, I quickly noticed how nice everyone had been to each other. I knew there was likely some behind the scenes drama I wasn’t aware of, but from at least my surface view now, everyone seemed to accept each other and respect their boundaries. This place was meant to test boundaries for sure, but having fun took priority over everything else. Testing boundaries meant nothing in a place of fun if it was too traumatizing or a moment of regret later down the road. “Thanks, man. Maybe we’ll see each other later?” “Yeah! That sounds great.” Derek looked longingly at the moving line headed into the darkened room beyond the double doors. “I have to go, but I’ll catch you later. Just breathe and it will all be okay. I promise!” I nodded and Derek walked through the doors and out of sight, with Nix, Naddie, and a few others shortly after. Seconds later, the double doors creaked again and closed tightly shut. Their concussive closing signaled a final toll on my failure. My heart was still racing, and I needed to get out of eyeshot of those doors. I steadily walked back through the corridor and passed the vendors. I felt flush with all the eyes I thought were staring at me, but I couldn’t focus on them. Even if they were watching, it would have only added to my stress, and my swirling mind, beating heart, and sweaty palms were already enough. After a minute or so, I found a clean and decent wall with no one around it and far enough away from the main traffic that I wouldn’t trip anyone. Despite most being cognizant around here, the buzz and excitement of the con meant that some just skipped merrily through the halls and really didn’t watch where they were going. It seemed freeing but I knew my outstretched legs in their path would have only led to disaster, and I needed only peace at the moment. A hug would have been best, but peace was a good second. Relaxed with my seating spot, I dropped my bag on the ground with a thump and then slid down the wall in a huff. The ground oddly felt nice and stabilizing to my fragile sense of self. I was normally a bit of an introvert back home, so coming to the convention, I wanted to shed some of those feelings and really feel alive. Despite some of my outgoing initiatives so far, the failure to enter even an orientation to the dark room felt like a major blow to my ego. I folded my knees into my chest and grabbed onto my ankles around the superman socks, and then buried my head between my knees. I felt nauseous, a pit in my stomach, and a flurry of emotions in my head. I just prayed that I wouldn’t cry in front of everyone. As I sat there, I was overcome with the feeling that I was a failure at something so simple. An orientation. Derek and the others had pounded that into me to make me feel better, but now, it was having the opposite effect. It was nothing more, despite Nix’s taunts, and I couldn’t even muster enough courage to take that single task on. Despite what Nix had said so convincingly to a newbie like me, I knew deep down she was only the catalyst for my cowardice. Coming to the convention had taken most of my nerve, and I realized that at this point my extra reserves of courage must have been running low after so much stimulation. I was stuck in the middle of caring too much about what others thought and not having enough of an adult mindset at the moment to enter the room. It was darn frustrating and I just wanted to beat myself up over my failure. ‘If only I could be young again. Just carefree and little. If only…’ “Excuse me?” a kindly and sweet voice asked from above. My dark and self-loathing thoughts broke for a moment at the sound of the voice. I managed to wrestle my head away from my knees and I stared up at where the voice had come from. Before me stood a tall woman with auburn hair and a pair of wide and almost gray eyes. She looked at me with a deep sense of concern, and softly asked, “Are you okay?”
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  44. After a lot of people in one of the writing seminars I attended said they liked warnings, I figured I should add them and people can just skim or skip at their own leisure. These are what I posted above and as with my previous story, this story contains several elements inherent to the pre-established diaper dimension. These include, but are not limited to diapers, using diapers for their intended purpose, non-consensual mental regression through various means (including possible drugs, hypnosis, and/or surgery), graphic imagery associated with any of these warnings, humiliation, female domination, babying of adults, and the kink-related topics inherent to this community (such as, but not limited to, furries, pet play, bondage, and spanking). I also want to note that I will be posting less frequently with this story as April is oddly a very busy time for me. Never fear, the bulk of the story is written, but I just need to add, edit, or modify a few parts before I post it. EDIT There is now a sequel to this story. I will post the link below, but just in case the link breaks or has not been updated, it is called The CONtingency: A Diaper Dimension Story. Link: https://www.dailydiapers.com/board/index.php?/topic/89878-the-contingency-a-diaper-dimension-story-chapter-01-updated-21-january/ Now that I've said all that, please enjoy the first chapter of my next story. Chapter 1: A Wager Between Women Two women ticked and squirmed as subtly as possible to not draw attention to themselves while trying to relieve some of the symptoms of portal travel. It was an early Wednesday morning in the lobby of the hotel and the two tall and imposing similarly looking women were sitting on two also similarly looking and facing large and black chairs by the railing near the hotel registration desk. “You’d think the twentieth travel through the portal would be easier by now,” the taller one noted, scratching her neck with her manicured nails. “You would think, but after all, we are using a modified and portable form of that technology. It could be much worse.” The shorter one paused and crossed her legs in an effort to relieve some of the cramps she was getting in her left thigh. “You remember, right?” “Of course. Puddle jumpers basically. All brave… all puddles on the floor if they got back at all.” “We wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Maybe speak about them with a little more respect…” “Respect? I respect them all, but we’re here now and we have a job to do. Something that happened over 70 years ago isn’t high on my list of priorities right now. Don’t you think?” The shorter of the two women readjusted her position. “Yes, yes… now, we need to take two on this trip. We can tag more but this is an experiment of kinds. These types of conventions were noted in a debriefing a few years ago and the head of Little Acquisitions thinks it could be a readily available market.” “Personally, I think a Little is a Little. I don’t see one tiny event with a limited number of people making a dent in our problems.” “True, but these convention goers may be more amenable to our ways. You see, this convention is for people who already have an interest in being Littles in some form. Or most of them at least” “All of them? Right now?” the taller woman asked astonished, now looking around at the hotel patrons buzzing about. “Well… as I said, not all of them. Especially right now. The event doesn’t start until tonight and the opening ceremony isn’t even until tomorrow. Additionally, some here may be more on the caregiver side in their own way or have other… peculiarities that may not suit our needs. Especially for this singular experiment.” “Fair, but if they’re attending the type of convention that I think this will be, wouldn’t they all match our criteria at least a little bit? They should all be easy targets by the way you’re describing them.” The woman paused and then looked relieved. “I thought I was going to feel guilty again this time. You remember the last one?” the shorter one nodded. “Crying, begging, pleading. Had to subdue them in the parking lot.” She shook her head in disbelief. “Geez, from what you’re saying, I don’t think that’s going to be the case. It’s going to spoil all my fun now. If they all want this so bad, these Littles deserve their fate.” “I’m glad you feel guilt of any kind, even if it is mixed with your enjoyment... Some of your last few captured Littles were a bit… broken.” The shorter woman looked around with wide doe eyes at the people in the lobby, oblivious to the fact that there were two Big women in the lobby right now about to begin their hunt for one of their kind. “Anyway, regardless of if these Littles may like some of this stuff, they should still be treated with respect. The point of this experiment is to turn our society around. We may be the dominant species across multiple dimensions but almost every Little eventually thinks that we’re monsters.” “Good. Keeps the native Littles more in line.” The shorter woman shook her head. “Not good. Every day a Little’s Rights Group is forming, or the ones that exist are getting bolder. If this experiment succeeds, we can show Littles back home that our methods are changing and that some may actually want this, even if it’s buried deep down for a few. Self-denial, shame, and all that. As such, we need to treat them with some respect. A bit more like precious cargo than trophies or specimens to experiment on this time perhaps. We are supposed to be the more civilized society, right?” “Ugh… I guess.” “Good.” The taller woman looked offended at the shorter one’s curtness over the situation. “Don’t worry about me. I’m a professional and don’t get attached to these people. Worry about getting a Little out without mistakes and without falling love with them. Mine may be broken, but you get attached. You need to stay focused yourself. You’ve almost resigned, what? Five times now?” The shorter woman nodded and partially blushed over her past record with other captured Littles from this dimension. “Just try to stay focused. Remember, you are allowed one for your own adoption, so make it a good one and not one that will be rejected by the agency this time and used solely for experimentation like the others.” The shorter woman huffed but nodded. The taller woman seemed satisfied with the shorter woman’s acknowledgment of her own flaws, so continued on. “Now, we have a quota to fill back home eventually, so we will be tagging some of the Littles here for possible later extraction by us or other teams. I got a report last week back home stating that the situation is getting worse. Some Amazons are even regressing and shrinking Littles to implant them and alter their appearance to then give birth to them naturally afterwards.” “It’s better than nothing I suppose. Some of our race can’t have children anymore…” The taller woman placed her hand on the shorter woman’s knee but said nothing more about it. The shorter woman had gotten the news that she couldn’t carry a child to term about ten trips ago. It was one of the reasons she had started to try and adopt the ones they captured. It was increasingly common, and they had already discussed the matter, so the taller one kept quiet while still showing support for her friend. After a moment, she removed it and leaned back in her chair with an expression that soon became akin to someone trying to focus hard enough to get someone else’s head to explode. “I’ve been having a thought…” “Yes?” “Actually, more of question really. I’m assuming this convention isn’t small, so how do we narrow down our pool exactly? Can’t really go up to everyone and ask if they want to go to another dimension, right?” “That’s true…” the shorter one leaned in from her chair and gave a curious expression as to where the taller woman was going with this. “Well, I’ve heard there will be hundreds here. I don’t know the exact count, but numbers have always been their race’s singular advantage against us. It’s why we never invaded like some want us to do back home, but how can you narrow the list down to just two in a convention like this? There has to be dozens that would normally have fit our criteria in other trips.” The taller one paused and looked immediately frustrated. “Couldn’t even bring our Littlemeter from home to determine the potential acceptance of our treatments in a particular subject. Too complicated of technology to go through the portal… ugh.” “I know you know why. It could have merged with us on the way over. I don’t think you fancy the meter suddenly sticking out of my hip or yours. Besides, we’ve been able to scrounge a few things together and even make a compound or two to help us later.” “Yeah, but they’re almost the equivalent of a flintlock rifle compared to a machine gun. It truly is a primitive world…” An overweight businessman then sauntered by them and was talking loudly on his smartphone. “Very primitive…” “I think you’re too hard on them,” the shorter woman defended. “They’re catching up. Look at the past 60 years since our race has started coming here. It’s impressive. Besides, our technology would cause too much of a scene. You remember what happened here initially in the year they know as 1947 from the academy history class? Not good stuff at all. Didn’t they think aliens or something like that?” The shorter one allowed the story they both learned in class that day to be refreshed in her partner’s mind. “So please, limit the amount of technology you expose these people to. For me?” The taller woman pondered for a moment, but let out a flustered, “Fine.” “Thank you. You can still use it for emergencies, but…” “Yeah, yeah. Look, I get it now, but we still need another way to narrow them down if you’re not going to let me whip something better up than what we’ve got already now.” “I was thinking the same thing, so I did a little research, and I got an idea from one of the sites I found. There’s a place here apparently called ‘the dark room.’” “Sounds wicked… torturous…” The taller woman smiled. “I like it. What is it?” “Well, from what I found, many go there who may not be incentivized to comply with rules if they are punished.” The taller woman stared at her blankly, not understanding what the shorter one was implying. “They can enjoy pain or inflicting it on others.” “Oh… yeah, that would be bad if they came to our dimension. Could you imagine trying to break a Little like that? I’m not sure even Helga at the academy could do it.” “Hard to know, but I’m guessing that most of our normal breaking methods could be lost on those candidates or not even work at all. It’s too much of a risk. Especially for a first-time experiment like this.” “Agreed. I like the plan. Simple and easy to remember.” “It won’t take out all of them, but it will probably narrow down the list of potentials. Even if it doesn’t though and everyone goes, we could enter ourselves and see the reaction of those inside for a best fit scenario. I’m sure some will feel the peer pressure to go inside if everyone else is doing it. They might even be influenced better back in our dimension with other Littles acceptance of the lifestyle. See the benefits or better treatments and all, rather than resisting.” “Perfect.” The taller woman checked her watch and noticed the lobby was slowly emptying of the suited individuals and filling up with many who seemed to already be sporting larger posteriors. She smiled knowingly. “I think it’s about to start. Anything else I need to know?” “Didn’t you do research yourself?” “I did, a bit… But you’re always more thorough! I’m better when everything goes wrong, but you do better prep work.” “Fine.” The shorter one conceded, remembering three trips ago when she herself knew every street corner of the city they were visiting but her partner’s improvisation at the end was the only thing that allowed them to leave this place and return home. “I actually do have one more thing… your attitude.” “My attitude?” “Yes. Like I mentioned before, I was talking with leadership before we left and the Littles you bring back tend to be husks rather than the loveable and adoptable Littles they want. A Big getting what you bring back might as well get a doll instead half of the time. They’re less expensive and might even be able to be programmed into doing something more than just lay there, especially if they’re like Victor was on the last trip.” “Management isn’t happy with my results? Don’t I deliver every time?” “You do. Don’t get me wrong, but management… me saying they are happy with your work would just be a lie, so I won’t.” The shorter woman saw how that revelation was putting a damper on her partner’s spirits. “How about this, I’m going to make you a wager…” The taller woman looked up from her brief stupor and curiously leaned forward. “Which is?” The shorter woman closed the distance between the two on her side, using the arm rest for support. “If you don’t harm a Little or you manage to get one before me this time using our other approved methods, I will file all our paperwork for at least this trip.” The taller woman hesitated. “A few future trips as well if your Little comes back more intact, and you don’t cause a scene.” The taller woman looked intrigued but suspicious of her partner’s generous offer. “Why would you do this?” “Well, I like you as my partner on these little trips. You’re my friend, and I don’t want to see you let go because of some… over enthusiastic regression methods.” She paused and smiled at her friend and partner. “Also, I think this place has the potential to find the most willing and successful Littles our society has ever had since we liberated that one island that was experiencing a famine.” “I remember that. Practically begged to be taken away.” “Exactly. Quality over quantity. Management has wanted that for a while and this place seems perfect.” A hotel goer shuffled by, and a subtle crinkling could be heard under their skirt. The two women smiled knowingly at each other. “I think I know what you mean…” The taller woman then spotted a group of four enter the building’s lobby nearby. All were dressed like any other Little she had seen here, but using her Big sense, they exuded a picture of something more. Slightly thicker around the butt, a hint of a waddle, half over enthusiastic and the other half practically looking like they wanted to disappear in the wall, and of course, each sporting a more juvenile shirt design exhibiting their likes in comics, anime, or cartoons. The two looked at each other again. The shorter woman smiled and then outstretched her hand. “Agreed?” The taller woman hesitated for a moment but smiled at the group of four who were passing by with a subtle crinkling, and then shook her hand. “Agreed.” “Good.” The two women stood up and grabbed their bags. “Now, it begins.”
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  45. WILLIAM I <Holy Gods, I swear those girls grow larger each year.> William found himself thinking, upon seeing the new class sitting in the room. At the age of 32, he had been a professor at University X for 5 years now, but still couldn't help but find himself feeling unnerved when talking to his female students. Thankfully, this year he had finally got enough years of teaching to be assigned an Assistant, Mrs. Katerina Flennigan, an intelligent but brutish brunette who could hopefully mediate the conversation between him and them. He felt pretty prideful teaching at University X. Not only it was the same University where he once was matriculated, it was also the first University in the world to approve the joint existence of men and women; this had its downsides, of course, since most men were afraid of teaching to people so much larger than them, he was the only teacher who was a male as of now. But whenever he felt frightened by it, he thought <This is what Merken and Glimpse dreamed of.> Sir Francis Merken and Lady June Glimpse, his idols. They fought their whole lives against the conservative government, asserting that since there was no proof for academic differences between men and women, there should be no reason for them to be segregated from one another. They didn't live long enough to see their fight won, but their word moved the world, and eventually, their dream became a reality. That's why there's a marble statue of both of them holding hands and pointing to the sky in the entrance hall of UX. "Welcome students. My name is William Plotter, and I shall be your Contemporary History professor. I know for many of you this is the first class in UX and I know students need times to adapt to it, but fret not." He nodded to Katerina to move next to him before continuing. Katerina wasn't exactly the tallest woman on Earth, but William was very short too. Most men reach the height of 3'9, with some getting as tall as 4'4, but at just 3'1 William was no athlete at all, and having a woman standing next to him made him feel even smaller. "Professor Flenning. She is just as if not more capable than me, so while I'll try to be as present as possible, feel free to contact her in case I'm missing for whatever reason." The first lesson started and went on for two hours straight without interruptions. Every now and then he had to stop talking to drink some water, so eventually at the end of the lesson he went to the bathroom and couldn't help but to overhear the conversation happening between two women, since the walls were very thin. "-lly cute, right?" "He's such a puppy!" "Yeah, too bad he's married, I would have wanted to adopt him." "Are you insane?" "Why? Lots of people do that!" "That's illegal Mary! And immoral!" "I know, I was kidding, relax." William knew what they were talking about. Although they were just joshing around, men contraband was a very real thing. Lots of men had been reported recently been found drugged to the point of not understanding reality anymore, all for being exploited as sex slaves sold by criminal gangs to women. He was disgusted knowing some people could be so unempathetic.
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  46. I only wear for our fun and games "Baby Time". When I get to sleep diapered I like to wet just before getting out of bed in the morning. But my absolute favorite is when I'm put in the playpen and wet while in it...
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  47. I don't really have a favorite place. I wet my diaper at work and that is very exciting and enjoyable, and also helps with a stressful day. I mess my diaper in the morning after I get up and have some time to myself before my wife is up. The early morning solitude in a wet and messy diaper is a wonderful way to start the day.
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  48. Again, not my picture. If it's yours and you want me to take it down, just PM me. _____________________ Scene #38, Part 3 Jane and I, and Mary, had a good time after our nap (or Jane’s nap, Mary’s finishing up work, and my creeping around the bedroom with a sharpie in hand and ‘DIAPER BUTT’ on my diapered butt). I think Mary had an especially good time playing the big to Jane’s very willing little, and Jane easily slid up and down her fake age range from toddler to adult as suited her in the moment. I honestly don’t get it, the whole mental regression thing where she can just shut off the adult part of her brain. The only way I can be entertained by little stuff is by doing it with Jane, because it’s fun to play with Jane when she’s little (most of the time, meaning most of the time when she’s not bratting but sometimes when she is also), and maybe that means I have more in common with Mary’s end of the age play spectrum than Jane’s. To the extent I allegedly, but not really, and may be, but really am not, and sort of, but I’ll punch you in the nose if you say so, am starting to, but not very much, enjoy (but absolutely hate) some of Mary’s blending of age play with our domestic discipline, it’s more because it rubs my humiliation and submission happy spots, which is not the same thing as liking age play or some of the particular manifestations of it that had made their way into my home, like the one wrapped around my waist (for the last too many hours, which is a number of hours that begins with ‘any’). And I get how it could look from the outside, particularly if you’re looking at and understand the nuances of my outsides and their relationship to my insides, and how that could lead one to mistake my liking those particular contributions to my humiliation and submission fetishes for the same thing as like age play and these incontinence aides, and think those are my jam. But those are just lies and misnomers and malicious rumors started by my enemies and perpetuated by social media, word of mouth, and the 24/7 news cycle. There’s zero truth to it at all. Really. My being confused by it is also one of the rumors, and I call on the faithful to be part of the solution and not the problem. (Please?). So, like they always say, don’t let the sun go down on unresolved issues, like, as a random for instance not driven by recent events that I inadvertently caused, letting your wife think you’ve crossed into a new level of not just acceptance but active and happy participation in a fetish you’re not really all that jazzed about. And yet just typing that makes me wanna do jazz hands, but who doesn’t always want to do jazz hands? 2020 needs more jazz hands. Anyway… “Um, Mary,” I ventured from the door of our bedroom. “What’s up, buttercup,” she sunnily asked me from our bed where she was reading a book and looking ready for bed, all shiny and showered. I stayed in the doorway and innocently inquired, “You know that rule where if I confess to something I don’t get in trouble for it?” She grinned at me and closed her book. “We don’t have that rule.” “Well, not, like written down, but more as just an … understanding … maybe please?” “How ‘bout no,” she said and smiled at me like I was the Snack Pack pudding in her lunch. I could tell her spanky sense was tingling, but pretty sure just about anyone woulda looked at her and thought, ‘There’s a woman about to slap a butt. Repeatedly.’ And, to be clear, totally worth a smack bottom if in the course of it we dispelled any mistaken notions about who did what for reasons not true. “But to encourage your honesty, why don’t you stop fidgeting in the doorway and tell me what it is you want to confess, and I promise to be merciful?” “Do you mean merciful or kinky merciful?” Color me a skeptic what with having my butt colored red so many times. “Daffy, just c’mere.” She scooted over and patted the bed next to her. “I am not a silly goose,” I said while making my way confidently to her side. I’d projected nothing but stern confidence from the moment I walked in the room (right?) and wasn’t about to shrink before her now. “I didn’t say you were.” “You were thinking it,” I sassed, but not really because I don’t sass. Another rumor perpetuated by not just my enemies but the enemies of truth itself. They are legion these days. “Yeah,” Mary deadpanned, “I was.” I sat down beside her. I hadn’t fully sunk into the mattress before her hand was on my shorts. “How are you not more wet?” Like I was going to dignify that with a response, much less the truth (been (mostly) holding it until bedtime). “About today,” I began. And stopped, because I hadn’t figured out exactly how to say this. Should I frame it around my quest for justice or go straight at the misperception I allegedly (totally) fostered (dove head first into like a cartoon animal running at a wall, and STILL had no roadrunner to show for it). “Mhmm,” Mary said. Or asked. “I, um …” Dammit! She was giving me The Look. Not the look that says ‘bend over my lap’ or the one that says ‘you’ve really done it now’ or the one that says ‘you’d better knock it off (or not) if you know what’s good (wonderful) for you.’ But The Look, the one she’d been flashing so damn often since the start of the whole quarantine mess, the one that says ‘I’m the happiest person in the world because you’re all mine.’ And this is just an aside, but I have a look like that, and when I look like I’m looking like that I just look dopey (did you follow that?), and she looks like a World Conquering Chief Love Officer. It’s so not fair. And when she looks at me with The Look, my spirit animal, which is also me because I am my own spirit animal, channels its inner golden retriever and just wants to do anything to make her happy. Bring her her slippers? On my way. Kill a rabbit and leave it on the doorstep as a gift? I’ll do it even if I’m crying over the poor bunny the whole time. Dive over her lap and present my bottom for her ministrations? Sure. Lay on my back and let her put a diaper on me? Apparently, which is how this mess get started in the first place. Although I did put up a little more resistance than that the first time, now that I think on it. She did have to spank me first and threaten me with a lot more. And I resisted some other times. Not in a while. But in general, we (me, my spirit animal which is also me, and my spirit animal’s inner golden retriever) aim to please. And she had so much fun that day… “Daffy!?! Do I need to tickle it outta you?” “You’d better not,” I said in an oddly, cutely grumpy way. “Then…” “I was lost in thought.” There’s, like, fifteen thousand miles of synapses in the human brain. It’s a miracle more thoughts don’t get lost trying to navigate those railroad tracks. “So what is it you wanna say…” “Um, see, ya know how I put on a pull-up without you telling me today?” “I vaguely recall.” Smartass. “And, uh, how it, was, um … damp.” “You leaked all over your shorts.” “It was not ‘all over!’” “If you say so.” “Well, I just did. So there.” For the record, because you may hear differently from the rumor mill later, I was not pouting. “Do you have some more to this story,” she asked me. “And when I drew on Jane’s picture, and you thought I did it because I was embarrassed?” “Well, mostly I thought you did it because you were trying to act like a little and thought the best way to do that was to be a meanie head.” “I am not a meanie head!” You are! Is a thing I would say, I mean, if I were the type of person to call others ‘meanie heads,’ which I am not. “I know you’re not. Of all the ways you make naughty choices, being a meanie head is rarely one of them.” And then she kissed me. And I will confess to liking that without any hesitation, because that’s normal. About the only normal thing about me lately, but anyway… “Um, well, thank you. I always try to be kind.” “And you are. But that’s not what you wanted to talk to me about. Or is it still a confession?” “Both. I, uh, you seemed to have a lot of fun and be really happy when you noticed my … ahem, choice of attire, which is fine, but I didn’t want you to think that I wanted to wear that … Because I don’t.” In fact, I don’t know how I came to be wearing that. It’s a mystery, like the Holy Trinity or where baby storks come from. Or do storks just bring each other baby storks? “You don’t.” She looked skeptical. A whole bunch skeptical. “I see. So …” “I was trying to get you to spank Jane.” There. I confessed. And did not feel better. Well, not much. And then Mary was wearing that other look which had also become a go-to of hers during quarantine, the look that says ‘I married a crazy person.’ “You … put on a pull-up … so that I would spank Jane … I don’t … no, I don’t get it.” “You said you’d spank Jane if she got in trouble when she was over. I was trying to get her to make fun of me … and it woulda worked, too, if you hadn’t enlisted her as your helper … and it was water in that pull-up … mostly.” And with the slightest, almost indiscernible wrinkle around the eye, she takes on the ‘I married an adorable crazy person’ look. She has so many looks. I have many looks, but almost all of them are versions of ‘dopey,’ ‘mopey,’ ‘awkward,’ ‘confused,’ ‘nerd trying to get laid,’ or ‘but I don’t wanna spanking!’ She didn’t say anything. She seemed to be mulling that idea over in her head. Well, if she wasn’t sure what to make of it, that made two of us. “Well, Miss Fibber McGee … you were awfully … acquiescent after she agreed to be my helper.” “Well, duh … I mean, yes, because I was still hoping she’d make funna me. And that’s why I drew on her picture. To pick a fight so she’d get in trouble. I didn’t mean to make her cry … I meant for you to make her cry.” “Why?” “For all the times she got me in trouble and got off with a game of tic tac toe on her butt while I got spanked like, like …” Dammit, where did my gift for similes go? “Like a naughty little girl?” “Maybe…” “Naughty little girls shouldn’t try to get their friends in trouble.” “Paddle or hairbrush,” I moaned. “Topping from the bottom again?” “Just trying to be helpful.” I’m very helpful. My first grade teacher put it right on my report card: Daphne is a very good helper. First grade teachers are experts at spotting those good helpers. “And are you sure you’re telling the whole truth? You’re not leaving anything out?” “Like what?” “Like any other mischief.” “Well, you’re gonna think this is funny. And maybe also that I’m an evil genius, but I’m not. Evil, I mean; genius yes. And actually, I’d like to take a step back …” I really need a lawyer for these things, because I meant to start this off with a key talking point, “… what you just labeled ‘mischief’ was actually a quest for justice. A sacred quest, actually, not that I’m being sacrilegious but just, uh, it was a justice mission to get, um, justice for, ahem, all the times she got me in trouble when I, um, didn’t really deserve it … fully … Not that you’ve ever been unjust! You’ve just, um, acted sometimes without all the, um pertinent facts, a few times, not many. Never, really, but once or twice. In fact, you’re very just, like the lady in the front of the courthouse except, um, hotter … love you.” I’m so pathetic. I don’t know whatever made me think I could be a general in a war for justice. At best I topped out at ensign. Navy uniforms being way sexier, but anyhoo… “Okay,” Mary said, looking bemused because she loves it when I get all flummoxed and squirm. If there was a streaming service that was just me squirming, she wouldn’t even bother with the free trial. “So on this little quest, what else did you do?” There she goes throwing around the word ‘little’ again like it’s not a big deal. “I was, um, going to frame her, since she didn’t make funna me and didn’t …” “Take your bait?” “Yeah.” “Frame her for what, exactly.” “Making funna me.” “How do you frame someone for making fun of you?” Wow, so this is a lot more embarrassing than even I thought it would be. I slid off the bed, opting not to verbally explain or, ya know, look my wife in the eye in that moment, dropped my shorts, and asked, “Can you see it?” “See …” I bent over a wee bit. “Ha! Hahahaha!” “Stop laughing.” “Aww, I’m laughing at how clever you are. You are a little evil genius,” she said and held out her arms for me. “I’m not little,” I said as I accepted her invitation to snuggle. People who are not little snuggle … while wearing a diaper. Dammit… “So,” I said by way of summary, “today was not a cry for being treated like a little. It was all part of an elaborate scheme … that woulda succeeded if Jane had stayed true to character. Am I in trouble?” “No, you’re not in trouble.” “And you’re not mad?” “Of course not. Why would you be worried I would be?” “Well, you’re not disappointed?” “About what?” “That … you had so much fun today. I don’t … that I got your hopes up that I, I dunno, that I finally bought into the diapers and being a little thing.” “I did have fun today, and you definitely had me wondering what was up, but I thought you probably just wanted to play with little Jane. You haven’t gotten to play with another little in so long.” “Marryyyy!” “You heard that, huh?” “Every time … so you’re really not disappointed?” “No.” “And you don’t wish I was little like Jane … you had a lot of fun with her.” “Jealous?” “No … in a ‘yes’ way, a bit.” “I had a lot of fun with Jane, but I don’t wish you were a little like Jane. I’m surprised you haven’t figured that out by now.” “Haven’t figured what out?” “That I like you the way you are.” “And how am I?” “Adorably befuddled.” “I am not befuddled!” Fuddled, maybe. But befuddled? No way. “O, my mistake. Here I thought that sometimes when you’re squirming and blushing in embarrassment, you were also writhing and getting all flushed and hot and bothered … or was I perhaps right?” Of course, telling the truth is no fun at all. In a game of cat-and-mouse, the mouse can’t just stand there and tell the truth. Takes all the fun of out … being eaten, I guess. Which has a certain verisimilitude … “I don’t know where you’re getting that from,” I said coyly. “You don’t?” “Nope. Way off base.” “So that little streak of red, running from your cheek down your neck to this little spot on your collar bone, that’s all embarrassment?” “Mhmm,” I said a little breathily. “That’s odd, because that spot always get red when I make you cum.” Heehee. She noticed that spot, too, huh? “And the way you spontaneously shudder when I trace my finger down that pretty little back of yours when you’re over my me knee, that’s always you squirming in embarrassment, too?” “Yes.” We take what god gives us, like how when Mary is aroused, she looks like Athena in perfect control of the universe, whereas I react like a loyal but not very bright golden retriever who collapses in a puddle if someone rubs my belly the right way. “And you hate everything about how I enlisted your friend to help change your potty pants, which you’ve been wearing all day without a word of complaint, or being put in time out for acting out, and drawing pictures to hang on the fridge?” “I do! Really!” Maybe she has a point about me being befuddled. At a minimum, I was feeling a least a little kerfluffled. “That’s too bad then,” she said. And took her hand away. Hey! Hey lady! Finish that belly rub! Finish it! I’ll do tricks! I’ll balance a cookie on my nose! TOUCH MY BELLY! “I guess we’ll just turn the light off and go to bed.” “You are such a tease,” I whined while neither squirming nor writhing. It was a small seizure is all. Really, she shoulda been gravely concerned for my health, if she was paying attention at all. “And you are such a diaper butt. It says so right …” POP! “No fair.” “So let me get this straight then. You were going to frame Jane.” “Yep.” "And I shouldn't regard those antics as something one would expect from, o, say , a middle?" "Not even a little. I mean, no! No." Ha! Also, oops. "Uh huh, if you say so. And then you wrote on your own butt.” “Uh huh.” “And then changed your mind?” “Pretty much.” “What made you change your mind?” “She’s my friend.” “Aww. See? Not a mean bone in your body.” “Nary a one, unfortunately.” Which is why so many of my rants collapse under their own weight before they even get going. See, for example, my most recent employment experience. “How did you manage to write on your own butt?” “I took the diaper off, silly.” “Excuse me, little girl? You did what?” Crap. With a capital C, which stand for crap. “Who is allowed to take your diaper off?” “You and anybody you say.” “And did I say you are allowed to take your diaper off?” “No.” “No. In fact, I made it very clear that once your butt is in a diaper, it stays on until I say.” “I put it right back on.” “And before you put it back on, it was …” “Off. But I was on a sacred quest for justice?” “Uh huh.” “Sometimes goodness needs the help of a little badness?” “Uh huh.” “Paddle or hairbrush?” “I think my hand will be sufficient for this reminder.” She let go of the hug she had on me, and I obediently laid myself over her lap. “Don’t you feel like a naughty little girl, getting a spanking on her diapered bottom.” “Yes.” THWOCK! “Good. Because I’m …” “NO! NO! HA! STOP! PLEASE! I’M TICKLISH!!!” “Oh, having been living with you for four years, I didn’t notice!” “AHH! HEEHEEHEE! MAR… I’M GONNA PEE!” Which I’d never done (five times?) while being tickled before in my life (after age six, except two of those times) when sober (except one of those times). “Like you’re a stranger to wetting your diaper. Little Miss Piddle Pants!” “AHH! AIEEE! MARYYYY!” “But!” She exclaimed, her hands stopping their assault, “I am just, and not a meanie head, either, so I’ll observe the mercy rule.” “My hero,” I said. THWOCK! How Mary perceived that as sarcastic, I’ll never know. She was just off her perception game that day. “Can I get up now?” “No.” “But I really do hafta pee.” “I know, and if I were you, I’d do it now before bed time so you can go to sleep in a dry diaper.” “I hafta wear a diaper to bed?” “Yep.” “But I thought I wasn’t in trouble.” “You’re not.” “O.” “So…” “I can’t do it lying over your legs.” “Yes ya can … but if it will help…” She let me sit up. “Gimme a footsie.” “Marrryyy!” “There you go again with that little red spot on your collar bone. So easily embarrassed.” “What do my feet hafta to do with anything … Maryyyyy! That tickles!” I'm beginning to suspect one of us has the other's number, but I'm not sure which.
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