Leaderboard

Part 10 The best way to describe my aunt’s reaction was disappointment. I don’t know if she thought I did it on purpose, but I don’t think it surprised her. It didn’t matter; she had no choice but to go through with her promise. She said, “Tommy, I don’t know what’s going on, but you aren’t using the potty like you should. We have to take a break from potty training. That means you have to wear diapers until you are ready to try again.” I willingly climbed on the changing table and let her take care of the soggy Pull-up. She calmly asked, “Sweetie, do you want your pacifier?” I nodded, and she put it in my mouth. “There you go. Isn’t that nice?” It’s hard to explain the calming effect sucking on a pacifier has on me. I felt like I melted into the table. I thought my aunt would mock me for acting like a baby, but she didn’t. In her mind, I literally was a baby. She placed the diaper underneath my bottom, and said, “Now sweetie, I don’t want you to worry about making it to the potty. If you need to do a poo-poo or a pee-pee, just go ahead and an adult will take care of your diaper. I don’t want you to try to be a big kid and use the potty. We won’t worry about the potty until you are ready.” I guess this was her way of telling me the bathroom was off-limits. Scott wasn’t allowed to use the potty, so I knew I wouldn’t be either. I felt guilty and mumbled, “I’m sorry.” In her calm voice, she said, “You have nothing to be sorry about. You’re not ready to be a big kid, so you need a break.” My aunt used cloth diapers at night, which seemed to fit me easily. During the day, she used the largest-sized Pampers available, but they were meant for a kid half my size. I wasn’t sure if they would fit. After she finished, I commented, “I didn’t think they would fit me.” Aunt Amanda smiled, “They fit, but just barely. I think I’ll have to get some bigger diapers, just in case.” She then dressed me like I was a two-year-old. She didn’t let me do anything for myself. My shirt was pastel yellow with a big red balloon on the front. The shorts were bright red and had an elastic waistband. It was the kind of thing I wore when I was three. After she finished, she said, “Big kids don’t wear diapers, so you can’t have big kid privileges until you are potty trained. Is that understood?” I nodded. She continued. “Little kids are not allowed to open doors, and not allowed to run off. They have to be with an adult at all times. You also have to ask an adult first, and if the adult says no, that means no. If you pout, or whine, you will go to time out.” I asked, “What about Jessica, is she an adult?” Aunt Amanda replied, “She is to you. She is in charge, and you have to do what she says.” “Is Debbie an adult?” “No, she is a big sister. You can ask her for help, but she is not in charge.” Aunt Amanda held my hand as we walked outside. She got Jessica’s attention and said, “Jessica, honey, can you keep an eye on Tommy?” Jessica gave her a thumbs up, and then my aunt put her hands on my shoulders and said, in a loud voice, “Be a good boy for Jessica.” I looked ridiculous in my toddler-style outfit and well-padded rear. I think it was obvious that I was wearing a diaper. I asked Jessica in a trembling voice, “Are you going to tease me?” Jessica condescendingly asked, “Why would I do that?” “Well, you know, what I’m wearing.” My voice was timid and shy. “What are you wearing?” She knew everything, and just wanted me to say it out loud. “You know.” I paused a bit, and then continued, “Don’t make me say it.” “No, I don’t, Tommy. What are you wearing?” Exasperated, I admitted, “I’m wearing a diaper. My Aunt is making me wear diapers.” She mockingly looked surprised, “You are, and why are you wearing diapers, Tommy? What did you do?” I was annoyed and mumbled as quickly as possible, “I wet my pants.” “You did, didn’t you. I guess that means you aren’t potty trained.” I wanted to run off but knew that wasn’t possible. I nodded, and Jessica continued, “I guess that makes you a little kid, doesn’t it?” I didn’t nod back, but she didn’t care. “I don’t tease little kids; that’s just mean. Don’t worry, I’m not going to tease you. Just remember that I’m in charge, and you can’t argue with me. If you do what I tell you, I’ll be nice.” I guess that’s the best I could hope for. Debbie kept asking, “What happened? Why is Tommy wearing diapers?” I wanted to scream at Debbie, but I knew I would get in trouble, so I gave Jessica a pleading look. Fortunately, Jessica quickly admonished Debbie. “Debbie! Don’t be so nosy. That’s none of your business.” Unfortunately, I hadn’t pooped yet, and breakfast was making it’s way to my bowels. I had let my mind go free while Scott and I were playing in the sandbox and forgot about the new rules. I got up to head for the bathroom. Jessica quickly asked, “Tommy, where do you think you’re going? You can’t run off by yourself.” I replied in a firm voice, “I need to go to the bathroom.” Jessica gave me a serious look, “Tommy, you don’t have to worry about that. That’s why you’re wearing a diaper.” I didn’t want to poop in my diaper and didn’t think Jessica would want to deal with that either. I snapped, “It’s not that. I need to take a shit.” I didn’t think swearing was a big deal, especially in front of kids my age. I didn’t usually swear around little kids, but I didn’t think I said anything wrong. Jessica gave me a dirty look and said, “Tommy Michael, you know better than that. Little boys don’t speak that way.” She pointed to the picnic table and in a firm voice said, “Go to the table. Now!” I have no idea how she knew my middle name, but hearing it is never good. I was more shocked than anything else, and asked, “What? Why?” “You heard me. Go!” She marched me to the table, put a pacifier in my mouth, and said, “Sit! You are in time-out.” I tried to plead my case. I spit the pacifier out, and tried to say, “But I need to go to the bathroom.” However, I didn’t get past the first word before she put the pacifier back in my mouth. “Don’t talk until I take that out! Is that understood?” I was too afraid to respond. She continued, “I know what’s going on, and as long as you are good, and don’t argue with me, I’ll be nice. But, if you don’t obey me, and make this difficult, I’ll make sure everybody knows what a big baby you really are. Do you want that?” I vigorously shook my head and tried to talk, but Jessica wouldn’t let me speak. “No talking! Sit here and think about your words. You are in time-out because you used a naughty word.” Debbie didn’t hear me cuss, and being the curious child she was, asked me, “Tommy, why are you in time-out?” Jessica quickly intercepted, “Debbie, Tommy is in time-out. He can’t talk to you right now.” “I’m sorry.” “It’s ok. Tommy can play after he finishes his time-out.” I hadn’t been put in time-out since I was six years old, and now I was put there by a girl younger than me. It’s a lot to unpack. However, I had to admire Jessica’s poise. It gave me a strange sense of security that is hard to explain. Her maturity belied her age. A short time later she came back and asked, “Are you ready to apologize for saying those naughty words?” She took the pacifier out of my mouth after I nodded back. I started, “I’m sorry, but.” The pacifier immediately went back to my mouth. “No buts. Are you going to say naughty words anymore?” I shook my head, and she nodded back. “Good, you can go back to playing after you apologize for real.” I replied, “I’m sorry.” “For what? What are you sorry about?” “I’m sorry I cussed.” Jessica smiled, “You’re forgiven. I think you’ve learned your lesson.” I raised my hand and waved, “Can I say something?” “What is it?” “I still need to poo.” Jessica shook her head. “I’m sorry, but you are taking a break from the potty. That means you have to use your diaper.” She pointed to a corner of the yard and said, “If you want, you can do it there.” I answered, “I can’t do that out here.” Jessica put the pacifier back in my mouth and smirked, “Obviously, that’s not always true, is it?” A few minutes later, Jessica took us into the kitchen for lunch and told my aunt, “He says he needs to poo, but he hasn’t done it yet.” It was humiliating to hear people talk about my bowel movements that way. Aunt Amanda nodded, “Thanks for letting me know. I’ll give him some time, but I might have to help him if he hasn’t pooped by dinner.” She turned to me and said, ‘Honey, it’s not good to hold it in.” I sat in my highchair at lunch, right next to Scott. We both had bibs around our necks, and our sandwiches were cut into small pieces. We also had sippy cups, while Debbie got to use a real cup. We took our naps after lunch. I still had to poo and was mad, so I went in my diaper. I figured it would be a fitting punishment to make my aunt change my stinky diaper. There weren't any clocks in the nursery, so I had no idea how long I would have to wait until my aunt woke us up. I just had to wait and deal with the smell. She reacted immediately after opening the nursery door. “I think somebody has a stinky diaper!” She checked Scott first. “Was it you?” She felt the front and then checked the back. “No, not you. You aren’t even wet. You were a big boy, and that makes Mommy very proud.” It was my turn. She felt the front and said, “You went pee-pee. Let’s see about the poo-poo.” She opened it up and in an almost proud voice said, “Yep, you did. And you did a big one. I’m happy that you don’t need any help going poo-poo.” I was confused, and asked, “Aren’t you mad?” Aunt Amanda replied, “Why would I be mad? It’s not healthy to hold your poop. I told you to use your diaper, and you did. That means you are a good boy.”

Sorry for the delay, but I couldn't pass up the opportunity to visit a museum that has been closed since 2019 for renovations. I should be able to post another chapter tomorrow if everything goes well. Hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 2: Session 1 ‘Ugh… not the easiest step off…’ I looked around the room and many of the viewers were still getting used to the unusual sensations of the RealET. Getting my bearings back, I quickly looked at the dials in front of me. ‘Good, good… and good. All safe and no one toasted or otherwise…’ Still being at the forefront of technology, RealET was subject to a host of small glitches still. Nothing obscene, but according to one of the researchers, some could experience vertigo, nausea, fainting, or even excessive sweating with this latest model. Previous models… well, test subjects were well compensated, or at least some of their families were from what I had been told when accepting the use of such a system for this project. Taking a second to get adjusted to the virtual view in front of me, I could see the Board could plainly view my former self seated in front of a desk with several monitors and the same projection mapping technology behind me. Given my personal connection, I knew I was the only one who could hear my past self’s inner thoughts, but it was still odd to see myself in this manner, despite my previous preparation for this meeting. My former self then began to move about as the RealET synced up with our current viewing and I breathed in deeply for what everyone was about to experience. ‘This was it. Project Nurture in its entirety. Please let this work...’ * * * “Is this thing on? Hello?” I tapped on the microphone attached to my lab coat. ‘Stupid technology getting smaller. Nice the board won’t see it, but ugh… I need to see the blasted thing as well.’ I rolled my eyes a bit and then tapped on the microphone two more times to ensure my words would come through loud and clear. Beeeeoowwwweeeeek! “Ah! Sorry about that everyone…” I said looking at one of the cameras in front of me after my ears had stopped ringing. I knew the Board would be seeing this, so I knew I had to just move on from this beginning technical hiccup. “First day of this new technology and all. Few bumps, but I think I have it now… anyway, as I’m sure you all know by now, I’m Dr. Edgar Thompson. For simplicity purposes and your viewing pleasure, this will be the first viewing session for the following subjects regarding the experiment simply known as ‘Project Nurture.’” I got up from my seat and walked over to another set of monitors nearby to view a few of the other candidates that had been sent to me. “Due to the extensive nature of 150 subjects spread across eight different countries, I tasked a few of my subordinates to monitor and observe all the subjects and report back the most promising ones given a few specific criteria that I had given to them. Today, will be the first session viewing submitted subjects 90876A and 90876B, otherwise known as Joy Spelding and Ronald Plimpton, respectively.” I turned a few dials below the monitors which then switched to a view of a chestnut-haired and average-sized Little from his experiment file in our records. “90876B, Ronald, or as he prefers, Ron, was selected for a variety of reasons. Ron was a portal Little like the rest of our subjects for this batch of testing and was eventually ensnared by a legal loophole with a caretaker service that we have some loose ties with. We were promptly informed of his retained status and our company legally adopted him to cooperate with governmental standards in such matters. Further, we have designated Joy as his proxy caregiver for the time being as outlined in section 2B.1A of those same guidelines.” I turned the dial away from the picture of the Little and to several profile pages that he had accumulated over the years. “Based on profile pages like these, internet search history, and past online personality tests that we were able to acquire from his own dimension, via agents embedded in their tech industries and government, we know that he is susceptible to wanting a new life and to form a new and caring relationship. Further, we also noted that his height shrunk from 5’8” to 5’2”. While not a guarantee of compatibility to be a perfect Little, the old wife’s tale may be partially true, and we often find that those susceptible to shrinkage in the portal transfer may end up as better future regression candidates.” I switched the dials again and showed the file’s picture of a well-proportioned and approximately mid-30s and comfortably dressed blonde woman. “Subject 90876A, or Joy, was selected on numerous factors, one of the largest being her desire for a family given the deaths of both her parents and lack of siblings. Her work with previous Littles combined with her desire for a loving family, both serve as potent factors in seeing this process through effectively and without any pre-warning signs for potentials of Little abuse.” I then switched the monitors back to the main room where Joy was waiting for Ron to arrive. “Before we focus in on their first meeting, I should note that the selected caretakers were able to narrow down what Littles they would be paired with, but only broad parameters could be selected and not specific Littles. Today, will be the first time they have ever met in any form.” I cranked up one dial and a ghostly visage of myself appeared in the room alongside Joy. “My image has been altered in this environment to seem almost spectral, not unlike your own if you haven’t noticed yet,” I said, knowingly including the Board and other potential visitors on the explanation. “If this were being viewed in real time, one could mistake us using the RealET system for a bunch of ghosts, but here, this is merely so our own image of ourselves will not interfere with anything in the environment that could be of importance. Trust me when I say you don’t want your own hand blocking your view of something critical…’ I lightly joked. ‘What I wouldn’t give for a few real time audience members…’ The entire view then switched about the living room of Joy’s given house, before settling on a single view of her and her twiddling thumbs. I knew that she knew that, if desired, she could keep the house and continue to live in the community built for this experiment and others if all protocols were followed. It was one of many benefits upon successful completion of the project, so I couldn’t blame her for her apparent nervousness. Besides, Littles were such a mixed bag. For all she knew, anyone from the perfect angel to hell’s own spawn could be showing up at her door any minute now. “Oh, one last thing,” my near-disembodied voice spoke while the view was still on Joy waiting on the couch, only thin wisps of my form coming back into the main view. “Joy has been informed of the various rules she needs to abide by for this experiment. Many will be explained by her as they come up naturally in her interactions with Ron, as he, however, will not likely know any of them when they first meet.” A little button flashed nearby, and I saw two figures approaching the front door. “Oh. Here he comes now!” The front doorknob jiggled for a moment but then the large, white door soon opened, and more sunlight immediately began streaming in than had already trickled in through the partially draped windows of the living room. Each caregiver could select their own décor, and the room and the rest of the house could easily be summed up with the words ‘cozy comfort.’ The added sunlight only added to this visage as Joy immediately stood up and flattened out her above the knee light blue dress that nearly matched her inquisitive but warm eyes. “Joy Spelding?” the muscular correctional officer asked, now lumbering through the wide door, yet still struggling a bit. The Little he was practically dragging let out the faintest of snickers at the sight. “Yes, that’s me,” Joy answered softly, going as far to even give out a small cutesy wave and moving on from the Little’s reaction to the officer’s struggles. “Mhhhmmm… just sign here. Gotta be legal and all.” He held out a tablet in his monstrous and thickened hands, and Joy then walked over and looked at the electronic form that had been presented to her. “I see.” Joy began to flip through the pages of the electronic form and neatly signed where was indicated. She then paused for a moment and asked, “May I ask why an officer is bringing…” Joy looked down at the diminutive 5’2” Little before her that only came up to her thigh, being 10’9” herself, “uh… this… man to my house? Wasn’t he supposed to be brought over in a van alone and not… cuffs?” I too then noticed the padded cuffs around the Little’s meek arms, Joy now staring back intently at the man before her and waiting on his answer to her question. “Sorry… regulation from Carer+. Just finish signing and the cuffs can be removed,” the large man said briskly, obviously wanting to leave as soon as possible and make at least one more delivery for today. Joy looked highly upset over this turn of events and so just quickly finished signing the forms in front of her. In truth, we knew this would be a possibility, but we felt that uninformed caregivers in this instance would seem more genuine and could garner a better and more positive response from the subject Little. From the way that Ron had calmed down slightly, I suspected this postulation was correct. Once the forms were completed by Joy and then handed back over, the correctional officer looked them over and then nodded his head back toward Joy. “Ma’am…” He then gave her the electronic key and left without another word. He seemed to hesitate for a moment before turning back around once out the door, but I saw that another flash of anger from Joy sent him quickly out of sight. She wasted no time slamming the door shut and then recollecting herself afterward. Now, with the two all alone with each other, I could see that Ron was just adamantly glaring solely at the floor while Joy looked sympathetically at him and the cuffs on him from vantage point high above. After a minute or so of pure silence, she sighed and then crouched down. “Now, I’m going to take these off, okay?” Ron just nodded listlessly, and Joy began to remove the cuffs with the electronic key she had been given. Errrrr… Click! Without a second’s hesitation, once the cuffs were fully removed by Joy, Ron then bottled for the nearby door that had been open only seconds before. As soon as he reached it though, an electric charge sparked through his hand as he reached out and touched the doorknob. Bzzt. “Ow. What the…?” Ron shook his hand from the small zap he had received. It was designed not to be painful, at least on paper, but we had given it just enough juice to be shocking enough to discourage repeated attempts by unruly and potential escapee Littles. Despite his initial shock though, he tried again, much to the apparent worry of Joy standing behind him. Bzzt. “Damn it!” he shouted in frustration, the spark still acting like more of an annoyance than anything. From his rear, Joy quietly and cautiously inched forward. She was careful, but Ron spotted her movement somehow and spun around defensively to face his captor. “Let me out! Now!” he angrily demanded. Joy only sighed from her towering position and seemed disappointed in how things were unfolding with the new Little in her charge. “I was really hoping we were going to get off on a better foot, Ronald, or actually, do you prefer to be called Ron instead?” Of course, Joy knew that he preferred to be called Ron, but from her background in caring for other Littles previously, she also knew that they were stubborn like no other being in this world at this preliminary stage with introductions, particularly if their entry had been… rocky. She knew very well that he had to be the one to open to her first. The Little still clenched his fists, but then sputtered out a single word. “Ron,” he said with a slight hint of disdain. “Well, good to meet you, Ron. I’m Joy.” She held out her hand and smiled as amicably as seemed possible, but Ron didn’t take the bait or shake the offered gesture. Looking a little disappointed over his initial rejection, but still knowing that the first moves were important, Joy pulled her hand back without any further action. “That’s okay. We can work up to that.” Ron rolled his eyes and simply turned around and reached for the doorknob again. “I wouldn’t do that!” Joy loudly cautioned, almost reaching out to stop him physically, but still having the good sense to restrain herself at this time. Ron swiveled around to face her again in annoyance. “You’ve seen it twice already, Ron, and no, it isn’t just static electricity or something like that if that’s what you were thinking.” “I wasn’t…” he practically growled. “Well, that’s good,” Joy quickly spoke, “but I think we might just need to have a small chat about a few things. I promise that if you want to try the door again after, it might hurt, but I won’t stop you from trying.” Joy then calmly gestured over to the nearby large couch in the living room near the entrance where they both still were standing. “Just a small chat… can we do that at least, Ron?” Ron looked like he was about to reach for the door again, but at the last minute just shoved his hand firmly into his pants pocket. Joy observed the small motion and smiled before allowing Ron to go first to sit down. Joy had been given some reading material before all this, to be used as one of our methods to ensure a more even distribution and knowledge base amongst the subject caregivers. Additionally, the techniques outlined in the manual were the first phase of Project Nurture and had been emphasized multiple times. It wasn’t necessarily required reading, but it was quickly apparent that she had read them all and, at least based on our initial theory, she knew that giving Littles some control now would only serve to pay off later in their relationship. Ron shuffled across the entryway and to the couch that Joy had gestured to. Having been sized for a Big, he simply stared at the waist-high couch cushion in front of him for a moment. It certainly wasn’t the biggest thing in this world, but it just served as another obstacle for the captured Little and yet another he would need to overcome. With a resigned sigh, he began to attempt to mount the towering and yet comfortable-looking couch before him. Edging close behind, Joy watched the Little struggle with such a simple task. The look on Joy’s face clearly and immediately showed that she had an inner desire to help him out, but it was also apparent that she was also visibly steadying herself. Between the two range of emotions, she readied herself to ask if he needed her help after about a minute of Ron continually huffing and bouncing to get up. “Do you nee…?” “I’ve got it!” Ron shot back in frustration, now thudding back to the floor after his at least 15th try to get up. Joy retreated a bit to give the Little some space and after about another minute, the obviously less than athletic Little was able to climb on board the couch. Joy simply smiled and took her seat cautiously on the opposite side of where Ron had started to situate himself. As Ron wedged himself in the corner, Joy took a breath to prepare herself to begin their true conversation about moving forward together. It was a potential make or break moment, and she knew it well. The day had gone as well as it could, but now, she knew from the information we had provided previously that she could screw it all up on her first day with him. As she prepared and mentally readied herself, I picked up my nearby recording device on my side as I watched her mull things over for how to begin. “Project Note: Subject 90876A, and others like her, were given some leeway on first introductions to their corresponding subject Littles. While encouraged not to stray away from the eventual outcome we hope for, starting levels of regression and immersion into a regressed environment have been left vague on purpose. While it has been acknowledged that this could create some variables in testing’s, we believe this could add a larger variety of potential promising outcomes for future studies and implementation to more users of our method,” I said into my recorder while still observing the two. I then looked at the stack of notes before me from the other experiments I had been recommended to view directly so far. “It should be noted though that it seems the majority of subject caregivers have chosen to ease their subject Littles into the lifestyle. Further analysis and observation will need to occur to determine if it is the result of knowingly being observed or just the normal tendencies from the particular subject caregivers we have chosen.” I then turned back to Joy and Ron, who both now seemed ready to discuss their business and this arrangement. “So, Ron… I’m not sure what you know or don’t… and I don’t want to presume you know or don’t know anything, so I’m just gonna lay it all out here and we can go from there. Does that sound okay?” Wearing a perpetual frown still, Ron just nodded in his soured gloom. “Good,” Joy said, obviously trying to move forward without taking his expression too much to heart. “Now, I know you were taken by an organization… doesn’t matter which for today, but they declared you unfit for one reason or another and I, as a volunteer to take in such… personages as yourself, their custody, under the law you see, was transferred… to me.” Ron sat in his corner of the couch unblinking. It was difficult to tell through his deepening scowl if he had been told about all this or not beforehand. ‘Probably not…’ Joy seemed like she was trying to determine that as well, but also getting nowhere in deciphering his looks, she just continued. “Now, what that means is that, at least in one sense, I’m your guardian… and before you bolt,” she said, noticing Ron’s posture had suddenly upended slightly from his corner of the couch, “that doesn’t mean I want to treat you like you may have seen others treat people like yourself.” Ron’s back was still peeled away from the couch, but his shoulders and brow seemed less tense now at the prospect of maybe a different Big than the ones he had been introduced to so far. Obviously satisfied that she had put his escape attempts on hold for now, Joy let out a small sigh of relief, but still proceeded with palpable and understandable caution. “So, all that being said, as you noticed, the doorknob is charged a bit. This is mainly to prevent burglars from entering but can also serve to keep those not authorized to access it, inside the house.” “So, authorize me then,” Ron said bluntly. “I can, but that takes some time… so for now, I would suggest if you wanted to leave, just ask.” Ron breathed in as if to say something, but Joy spoke up first, knowing she had to seize her moment of reality now or risk losing Ron altogether. “Before you ask however… just know that you have been marked.” Ron briefly panicked and looked down at his body. Joy smiled and let out a miniscule giggle. “No, not that type of mark. In our system I mean… your profile is on our governmental database now. I know you’re a portal Little, but after being remanded to our care, you were registered.” “Registered? Like a citizen?” Ron asked, almost with a note of hope in his voice. “Uh, well, sort of… more like… uh, a minor…” Ron’s eyes bulged at the word and Joy tensed up at seeing his reaction. She held up her hands to brace against his apprehension and spoke quickly. “Easy there, Ron. I know you probably have a million and one things going through your head, but I promise… I’m not like all the other Bigs you’ve probably encountered already.” “That’s what they all say… then bam!” He smacked his hands together to emphasize his point. “I’m in another situation like this. I keep going down on the totem pole for what my status is. Not sure where else to go from here with the label ‘minor’ and all… lobotomy maybe?” Joy shifted uncomfortably, obviously not being able to discern if that was a joke or a legitimate fear of his. I could tell she knew the situation was delicate, so, her next move meant that half-truths were now in order. The purpose of this whole experiment was to regress Littles, yes, but it was also to do it in a way of framing it like giving a wheelchair to a paraplegic if you will. Maybe not the most ideal of situations overall, but it was something now needed to maneuver about in society. Being a Little was obviously more than that to us Bigs, but unregressed Littles needed a little prior… cajoling, if you will. “I would never give you a lobotomy, Ron. I can promise you that… cross my heart,” Joy said, marking an ‘x’ on her chest with her pointer finger, smiling all the way to try and frame the situation like a joke. Ron took the bait and eased up for a brief moment. I could see the tension diffuse a bit in Joy and she continued. “So… I think we just need to go over a few things…” “Like?” Ron asked impatiently, still evidently not on board with all this. “Well… you’re under my roof and, at least technically, my protection as well.” Ron’s hands clenched at the implication. “Meaning,” Joy quickly continued, noticing his tense gesture, “that I just want what’s best for you. Think of it like when you fall and cut yourself, I’ll be the one to give you a band-aid or put it on you myself in some cases. Doesn’t mean I’m going to push you down some stairs or on the sidewalk or anything, but I’ll be there if you need help with a particular… problem. Does that make sense?” I could see the gears turning in Ron’s head. He had every right to be suspicious, but Joy was doing a good job so far in talking him off the proverbial ledge of escapism or worse. Her ability to speak to Littles in what almost amounted to a code would be an asset that I knew would suit her well here, especially considering the still pondering Little that had been assigned to her. Finally, Ron spoke up. “Fine. I don’t like all this one bit, but I can agree on that at the very least.” He then wiggled and crouched forward with his hand held out in front of him. “Shake on it?” Joy leaned in, but Ron pulled his hand away before they could shake. “Don’t shake unless you mean it,” Ron stated seriously. Joy smiled, and while she didn’t say anything, her simple hand movement encroaching forward to Ron, put a smile on his face. “Okay then. It’s a deal. I’ll stay as your… guest, and you do the protection and help thing.” Joy only nodded and he then leaned back and wore an almost smug look of satisfaction on his face as if he had just made the deal of a lifetime. ‘Oh, Ron… she may not help you along with some of the more major milestones, but we will… Project Nurture demands a few… pushes.’ “Now, what’s next?” Ron said, still reclining back on the couch with a look of accomplishment. Joy stood up and gestured to the rest of the house. “Well, I suppose with our deal, you intend to stay…” Ron’s face darkened a bit at the implication of giving in to her, “at least for a little while…” She then walked over to the door. “If you remember, the door is to keep people out and in.” Ron nodded. “Yes, so for now, I’m going to keep it charged and not have you added to be able to access it.” Ron scowled and shot forward a little on the couch as if he were about to protest being kept inside like an animal. Joy beat him to it though and spoke first. “I know, I know. I’m not proud of it, but it’s for your safety, Ron. Honestly.” “Bull!” he shouted back angrily, evidently not believing her sincerity of self-guilt. “Not bull,” Joy said, obviously having read some of the common idioms and curses from Ron’s original dimension, “just truth. I really want to keep you safe.” Ron squinted back at Joy in frustration, but also with a mix of curiosity and maybe even confusion. “Out there,” she continued, “is everyone else and all that comes with it. You see, in here, you are Ronald Plimpton, an adult man by your standards at the very least, but out there, you are just another highly desired Little. What’s more, remember I said you were registered?” Ron nodded. “Well, that’s for a lot of things. The biggest one for you to care about though is that if one of the local or government agencies catches you, that’s the game, Ron. No second chances. Do you understand what that means for you being a Little?” Ron nodded slowly, but Joy continued with a fierce expression that even gave me the chills a bit. We both knew the seriousness of our society by heart by now. “Well, I’m just going to remind you of this then. You are a Little. Get caught again, and you’ll end up like any of those horror ads you see out there. I’ll try and find you, but you won’t care who I am by the time I do. You’ll just want to be warm, comfortable, and fed. Crawling will be considered your accomplishment of the day and don’t even worry about the potty. If you notice anything to do with it, it will just be when I change you. You won’t be you anymore. No ego, no potty, no boxers or food that even remotely looks like its original form, if that… in short, Ron, it’s practically nothingness for you. You’ll just be a Little forever and always. Do you understand me?” Joy asked with her still warm yet stern and authoritative voice. ‘Yes… we had chosen her very well as a caregiver…’ Ron shook his head quickly, seemingly too stunned to say more. Having been out in society, I guessed he had seen one or two Littles that probably would perfectly match the description she had just given. ‘Didn’t we all know someone like that by now in this society of ours?’ Joy’s expression relented immediately upon seeing Ron’s more demure nature and returned to her own more nurturing demeanor. “I don’t want to scare you completely, Ron. I swear. I just want you to know the stakes here. I hope you won’t escape, but just know that’ll be your life if you do.” The two existed in only silence for a moment. It was awkward and almost painful to watch as an outsider, but I liked what was unfolding before me. Joy was only exhibiting sympathy and concern toward Ron. She had made her point and now, based on the expression Ron was giving off from his tiny corner of the couch, he was likely having serious doubts about leaving here anytime soon, if at all. Of course, I knew that Joy had lied a bit. There were second chances around here due to Ron being in our program, but he didn’t know that, and besides, that was a reality in places like Catalon an many others. Libertalia around here was more… forgiving in a way, but laws often changed quickly for Littles. What is true today might not be tomorrow. ‘Such are the whims of a Little-focused government…’ “I understand… I won’t escape now…” Ron finally said, almost sounding a bit defeated, his smug look of satisfaction having all but disappeared by now. “I’m glad,” Joy said calmly. “Would you like to move on? I can show you the rest of the house if you want, or just where you’ll be staying. Up to you. There are probably other things you’ll need to know, but that’s the important stuff for now at least.” Ron looked towards the other rooms of the house from his vantage point and then to the stairs. He sighed and then started scooching off the couch. “Might as well see the rest of the house now… I’m not really tired or anything.” Joy beamed pleasantly at the Little now trying to get off the couch. He was accepting her offers and abiding by what she was saying rather than sequestering himself to be alone upstairs. Most Littles would block themselves off if placed in a similar rocky start, but she had calmly pushed where she had needed and comforted him where she could. I immediately could tell why these two subjects had been flagged for my viewing. Joy was about to ask if Ron needed help once again, but the Little simply plopped to the ground with another thud. He had gratefully landed on his feet, but Joy’s expression showed that she had regretted not asking if he had wanted her help to begin with. From what I had seen, it was only a matter of time. Shuffling past her as quickly as his smaller legs could, Ron made his way to the kitchen where Joy’s outstretched arms had gracefully still been gesturing toward. Once he had made his way past her, Joy walked gingerly behind him. I could tell from her nervous glances downward that she didn’t want to accidentally run into the small Little before her or to outpace him. Ron needed some control and Joy seemed determined to give it. Once inside the kitchen, Joy began to show several areas that almost neared normalcy to the new portal Little. Food was called different things and larger than the food from where he had come according to our research and records, but portal Littles could still recognize most of the food products in front of them. From Ron’s stalking and tense posture around the room, I could only surmise he was checking how young he would be treated based on dishes, food selection, or even furniture. Joy seemed to catch on and spoke first as Ron gave up his search in there and then began in the dining room. “Not to be psychic or even rude Ron, but if you’re looking for a highchair, there isn’t one here. I can get one if you would prefe…” “No, no,” Ron defended himself. “I’m okay with that… honestly. I just…” “Wanted to check what age I was thinking of treating you like? As a Little or Big, huh?” Ron nodded affirmatively and Joy smiled at her correct guess. “Well, we can always change things only if needed, but for now at least, I can tell you that you may need help with your current… size, so I got you a booster and some smaller utensils. We can try to the other Big-sized stuff first, but I just wanted to be prepared.” Ron looked like he wanted to protest even the notion of such items more than anything, but he ultimately just nodded his head in at least passive acceptance of this next chapter in his life. Afterall, in a world made for people twice your size, it seemed that Ron was finally beginning to understand that compromise and patience were of paramount importance. The backyard, her office, another guest bedroom, and a few bathrooms, and other minor rooms all went about the same, Ron’s suspicion seemingly growing smaller with each visit and subsequent examination of the given room they were in. By the time the two made it to the top floor and the last room on the right side, Ron almost looked relaxed. ‘Although thinking about it now… how relaxed could a Little be in the home of a Big without a Little already to quell their known powerful inner maternal or paternal desires?’ Regardless, Joy stepped in first and flicked on the overhead light. Inside was to be Ron’s new room, but again, we left the theming up to the subject caregivers as much as possible. One subject I had seen was to immediately sleep in a crib, but Joy had opted for a simple wood frame and traditional bed that could accommodate almost two Littles. Beyond the bed, Joy had opted for a minimalistic approach to the bedroom, going as far as still keeping the walls their practically sparkling white and barren original appearance. As Ron progressed, he could select more theming elements, of course, all being increasingly meant solely for regressed Littles, but he didn’t know that yet. “So, what do you think?” Joy asked with a slight unease and yet hopeful tone. Ron continued to stare at the nearly empty room. “Good,” he said finally. “Spartan almost. Nothing Little about it. Uh, could use some… color maybe?” he said hesitantly, obviously trying not to insult Joy or even show a glimmer of giving in to being a Little. “Color sounds wonderful actually. I didn’t want to paint it or add anything else until someone was actually staying here in your… position,” she gently mislead. “Might have even gone for pink or something. Not that a Little like you can’t have pink wal…” “No!” Ron stopped her before she could finish. “No pink. Not bad, but just something… else.” Joy smiled. “I figured as much.” In truth, the experiment would allow for more flexibility on the gender scale with Littles, but Joy had indicated her preference for a male Little for whatever reason when initially asked. It wasn’t unheard of for a Big to lean more into the male Littles, but it was just more of a rarity on the whole. “So…” Ron shifted back and forth, obviously not sure of what was next now that the tour of the house had ended, “what now?” “Now?” Joy pondered the question for a moment. “Now… I think I’ll leave you to relax or whatever in your room. I know the people that handled you today can be a bit rough, and I also know that all this would be a bit much… for anyone.” Ron looked around the room and then nodded. “So, just take it all in. I’ll be downstairs if you need me…” Joy began to exit the room when Ron plopped down on the bed. An immediate crinkling noise could be heard. “What the…?” Joy spun back around. “Oh that. Right. Sorry,” Joy said apologetically. “I wasn’t sure of the state of the Little I might get… you know with all the extra encounters a Little may face out there…” she tried to imply subtly, “so I just left the plastic sheets on. Just in case and all…” “But I don’t need… plastic sheets,” Ron defended with an annoyed tone, now poking at one corner of his new and crinkly bed. Joy smiled sympathetically toward the Little before her. “I know you don’t, Ron. It’s more just about the possibility of Littles in general.” Ron still angrily glared at Joy. She then sighed heavily and rubbed her temples. “Tell you what… you sleep on them for tonight and if everything goes well… I can think of removing them or switching out the mattress entirely. Can’t remember if they’re one piece or not. Got them a while ago…” “So just one night?” Ron asked defeatedly, incorrectly assuming that it was sleep on them tonight or likely nothing at all. There was a backup plan, but we fully anticipated most Littles to not protest a still amazingly comfortable bed. “Maybe… if they’re one piece though… could be longer…” Joy stared at the recently renewed scowling Ron for a moment. I could tell that she genuinely wanted to help him out, but I could see her inner conflict with this experiment as well. In truth, all Little mattresses that we provided came with plastic sheets built into their design. They could be removed for washing, but for our purposes, they were important to begin to enter the subject Little’s mind. Noises and smells were powerful triggers and the addition of protection for the bed would only serve to reinforce their new and future status. “Very well… the bed is comfortable at least…” Ron conceded. Joy smiled in her now usual way again and her look of worry and concern began to slowly melt away. I knew, and I could tell that Joy knew, that Ron didn’t need to add that last bit to his statement. He could have just complied and that was it. Instead, he had tried to be courteous and give a compliment toward his host. In the grand scheme, it was nothing, but it represented another positive first step and on more obstacle that had been avoided with relatively few lies and fewer angry expressions or actions. “I’m glad to hear that, Ron,” Joy said, beginning to leave the room again. “I’ll be downstairs if you need me, but otherwise, have a good night.” Ron gave a half smile to his new host as she passed through the threshold to the room. “Thank you, Joy. Have a good night as well…” Joy then left the room and the two were now separated. Seeing the portion of the highlighted recording was now complete, I leaned back in my own office and turned off the view of the RealET system. I sighed immediately in contentment and began to review the highlights from the day in my head. Subjects 90876A and 90876B had both met and were firmly entrenched into their new dynamic. With a few caring and cautious manipulations, Joy had been able to keep Ron in the house, likely avoid possible future escape attempts, align herself as a figure of aid and safety, and settle her subject Little into his room all without a major escalation of violence. Given Ron’s previously gruff and noted hostile attitude when he had originally been picked up by Carer+, Joy had practically performed a miracle. I had some concerns over the lack of Ron’s regression progress based on the initial parameters that Joy had set for him, but I trusted in her judgement. Likely, a better rapport with Ron now would only serve to further the project’s interests in the later stages. After all, a Little forced into diapers and a crib on their first day would only feel natural and even duty bound to rebel further down the line and try to escape from their obvious perceived enemy and torturer. Three of the control experiments had already been noted as such, so all together, I was pleased with what I was seeing at least for the time being. Sitting down and leaning back in my chair, I made a few notes for posterity and the Board and looked forward to the next session with subjects 90876A and 90876B. It was a good first day, but I knew that it was only the beginning. After all, we always had a few milestones to keep Ron… in line.

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!))

So, here is the third chapter. The next chapter is nearly complete, but I may have a family matter tomorrow, so I may not have the time to post another chapter then depending on how things go. I just finished outlining the story last night, so everything should be on track to be finished before August is over and maybe even before my vacation at the end of the month as well. I'll post on here when I have a better idea of it's completion date later on. For now though, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 3: Session 3 The recording blipped for a moment and then refocused back onto me. “Hello, hello? Yeah…” I adjusted some calibrations on the machine and then wheeled back and checked the frame displayed on a separate monitor. “Yeah… that should be good.” Ahem. I cleared my throat and started again. “Welcome back. This will be the third session that I’ve been sent for subjects 90876A and 90876B.” I clicked one of the monitors which now showed both Ron and Joy sitting in the living room and watching TV together. “Continued from the session sent to me yesterday, not much occurred. If these subjects remain as valued as I believe, some sessions may be edited out of the final presentation to you members of the Board. As such, I will begin each session by recapping what has happened and what I hope will happen for the current session.” I clicked the screens to a previous image of the two subjects from yesterday. “Subject 90876B, Ron, continues to settle into the routine that subject 90876A has established. He is no longer showing outward signs of combativeness or aggression toward Joy and even complies with most of her requests.” I looked back at the screen and saw a clenched fist still from Ron in the image I pulled up. “It should be noted that the subject still appears to have internalized anger, or at least an ambivalent attitude, towards his current lot in life, but this is largely to be expected at this point. In fact, the presence of this anger, or whatever true feeling he has, will be a better catalyst to exhibit the potential of this program to span a variety of different Little’s feelings. After all, not all Littles can be expected to be compliant during this process.” “For example,” I looked again at the fist and slight almost hateful look in Ron’s eyes, and I saw that Joy had noticed it as well, “this session from yesterday encapsulates one of the typical interactions so far between the two.” Ron and Joy sat quietly and watched a local program on TV. Suddenly, the program was interrupted, and an unfolding top news story appeared before them. “Breaking News!” the news anchor broadcasted, “Little at Dark Cliff Prison, under their new caretakers has come out with their entire ordeal in one story. Details are to follow…’ The news story then flashed several highlights from the Littles tale, and each was grizzlier than the last. Everyone knew the reputation of Dark Cliff, but this… it was something else entirely to behold. Trying to make the best of the situation, and to possibly gauge Ron’s reaction to other Little’s lives, Joy tried to strike up a conversation regarding the latest new story. “Geez. That Dark Cliff Prison sure is nasty. Corruption, coercion, bribery, abuse, sex trafficking… makes one sick… don’t you think?” Ron only responded with what practically amounted to a grunt of recognition that Joy had just spoken, but his feelings on the matter, if he had any despite being a Little himself, were still entirely unknown and could only be guessed at. The man was nothing if not the definition of a brick wall when it came to interacting with Joy on most occasions since he had arrived here. “Currently, however,” I continued after refocusing on my own observations from my viewing station, “I believe Joy’s form of care, her maintenance of an outward dangerous world, and her insistence of Ron only remaining safe and healthy have contributed greatly toward his compliance, regardless of his own attitude. I feel I can safely say this as by the third day, most Littles would have often grown violent and would have made at least one escape attempt. This has not occurred with Ron.” I then switched the view to look at Joy closer, the picture from today’s session clearly exhibiting her empathetic and concerned eyes toward the Little in front of her. “I can honestly say that selecting Joy as a caretaker has been a pleasure to watch compared to some of the others. She knows this project well and her manipulations, though still present and slightly regrettable toward establishing what most would consider a true trust, have come off more as to keep Ron safe than to outright lie to him. I see this course of action going very well if she is careful and Ron doesn’t catch on.” I popped the dials back on with the RealET system and stood up from my desk. Soon, I was bathed in my ethereal light and placed within the video simulation of today’s session. “If Joy maintains the schedule that we have set for all caregivers for certain milestones to reach, today should introduce Ron to hypnosis for the first time.” Ron continued to watch the TV while Joy appeared to be more subtly interested in Ron himself than what was playing before them today. A look of concern flashed over her face briefly after she looked at the time after dinner. “It is regrettable,” I continued, “that such measures are warranted at all, but from the parameters of this project, the hypnosis will introduce more of a suggestibility than the pure mind control of other regression treatments.” Ron shifted uncomfortably on the massive couch, maintaining a palpable distance from Joy on the opposite side of it. “To test the system, the project will introduce a comfort item into Ron’s life, amongst various other subtleties. This will exhibit and prove Ron’s suggestibility for future endeavors and could potentially start the regression process if done correctly.” The television program then ended, and Joy let out an audible sigh. “Oh, this is it,” I said, my image starting to fade into its semisolid state. “Fingers crossed all goes well.” Joy then stood up from her end of the couch and stretched. “Goodness me, where has the time gone?” she asked rhetorically while checking her watch subtly. Ron only looked at her blankly and then refocused on the TV, obviously unconcerned about her presence. ‘I wonder how much longer that will last after today?’ “Well, I need to go plan a few things for tomorrow. You going to be okay here by yourself, Ron?” she asked cheerfully of the sullen and resigned Little before her. “I’m fine… thanks,” he mumbled, obviously still trying to maintain his gracious nature with his host in this strange and hostile place, all the while keeping his defenses up still. “You’re very welcome,” Joy said appreciatively. If Ron had been looking, he might have caught Joy’s worried and almost longing face, but he was too preoccupied with what was on TV at this point… just like we wanted. Joy then quietly picked up the remote and walked out of the room. Back in the living room, the TV glitched slightly, but soon resumed its normal picture, Ron only groaning for a moment but then thinking nothing of it. What he didn’t know is that Joy had just activated the project’s first subtle hypnosis program. Normal hypnosis on TV was often dangerous and long-lasting. While it served regression methods well for many decades now and could range from just implementing a thumb sucking habit to full infantile regression within minutes, it was too intense for the purposes of our project. One of our own product placement commercials for absorbent diapers then ended, Ron having mostly tuned it out like he did most things pertaining to Littles, but his attention was immediately captured by the new program on before him. ‘Good, Ron… just keep watching.’ The program was of our design and while it appeared to be a nature documentary about the various cryptids inherent on our world and not others beyond mere myth. For a portal Little, it was just interesting enough to capture their attention, while also not overstimulating enough to cause the more… frightened Little to shrink away and find something else to do. Just in case though, the program had been imbedded with the usual ‘glue method’ to ensure the Little wouldn’t look away during its duration. Additionally, the subject caregiver had been instructed to remove the TV remote away from the subject Little, as Joy had just done. Ron swayed subtly and his eyes noticeably widened. ‘Perfect, Ron. Just a bit further…’ I stared back at the screen, and all looked normal, but I knew full-well that imbedded images and sounds had been planted into the program, so I was very grateful for the progress RealET had made. Initially, the RealET technology was thought to be just a simulation of reality, but the scientists had done their job a little too well it had seemed, and all sensations were fully activated and in play with the first model. A reconstruction of a bomb had led them to quickly revising the program to ensure no physical harm would come to the viewer and a viewing of one of these types of simulations previously had led them to ensure no hypnosis could be translated through the technology either. I’m told that particular viewer was compensated highly and just graduated to pull-ups during the day. Regardless, I looked back at Ron and saw Joy walk back in the room with her approved eye protection. We knew that even accidental exposure to this hypnosis could be undone within a week, but it was best not to tempt fate with a program designed to increase suggestibility amongst other effects. She could still hear the subtle wording being played, but we had ensured one would need both the visual and auditory experience for the hypnosis to truly work. Joy then waved her hand in front of Ron’s face, but the Little did not move. He merely blinked once and continued to watch the program. Joy sighed in a way to note that she was both unhappy and yet relieved that the hypnosis was working so effectively on the Little before her. Bigs could often enjoy watching the regression process unfold, but true caregivers always had a slight sadness during the process, and Joy was no exception. As odd as it may have sounded in conjunction with our ultimate goal, it was actually a good sign to see her continued slight discontent with the project. It just meant that she cared more about Ron and that was definitely something that we wanted to see. Soon, the program ended, and Ron just sat on the couch for a few good minutes, still unblinking. Joy took the opportunity and put her protective eyewear away before she then crouched down to a nearby bag and dropped it on the ground as if to shuffle the contents back in, just in case Ron was aware of what was going on around him. Bam! “Wha…?” Ron still looked about half-dazed from the effects of the hypnosis and was obviously trying to get his bearings back. He would be fine, but his head was likely swimming with the new and strange sensations that had just been planted there, and he looked halfheartedly back at the TV as if to try and piece together what had just happened. Of course, our program had now ended and the documentary about food production had clicked back on, picking up right where it would have been if the hypnosis had never occurred. “You say something, Ron?” Joy asked, forcibly playing innocent in all this. “I…” Ron shook his head as if to try to clear his sinuses, “never mind. Must just be tired or something. I could’ve sworn I was just watching something…” Ron drifted off for a moment and he genuinely looked confused. His profile had indicated at least an above average intelligence, so he was likely trying to logic his way out of what had just happened. Without any evidence to go off though per our design of this moment, he just shook his head once more. “Yeah… I think you’re probably just tired,” Joy reinforced. “Maybe wise for an early night.” She looked at the still-puzzled Ron with sympathy. “Probably just our world on you portal types… you know, with all the time changes and day extensions and all…” “Right… always forget your all’s…” Yawn. “Days are a bit longer… must be it,” Ron tried to rationalize, especially after his self-reinforcing yawn. Joy just nodded and the two then wandered upstairs toward Ron’s bedroom. Joy hadn’t done this the night before, but Ron made no mention of her shadowing him. Further, Ron made no mention of Joy pulling out his pajamas for the night when he came back from washing his face and brushing his teeth. Joy walked out of the room to give him his privacy, but she still waited outside for him to finish, Ron still making no comment about anything. It was immediately apparent that Ron was changing. ‘But how much is the real question… let’s see.’ As if to answer my question, he then further proved his subtle change when he announced that he was done, and Joy walked back into the room. Ron’s pajamas were still ‘adult’ in appearance, but the Little just stood by the bed with a confused expression on his face. The second part of the hypnosis was now kicking in, after his compliance with her presence being the first, and Joy gently guided him to the bed and under the sheets without a word, likely in fear that she would mess something up. All was fine though, and Ron’s expression immediately relaxed as Joy gingerly tucked in the covers around him. “Thank you, Joy,” Ron then said without hesitation now. Joy warmly smiled back and patted his still uncovered arm. “You’re very welcome, Ron.” It wasn’t a big deal compared to diapers or pacifiers mind you, but Ron hadn’t fussed for a single moment when Joy had been tucking him in. What’s more is that his gratitude was given freely without any pause or embarrassment. One could be mistaken in thinking it was just good manners on his part, but for someone like Ron to say it to a Big here, it meant something far more; Ron was beginning to accept Joy into his life. The second part of the hypnosis was all a success. Joy then stood up. “I actually have something for you tonight… a gift if you will.” Ron’s eyes bulged out and he couldn’t help but wiggle slightly under his covers. Joy then went to his previously and purposefully closed closet and retrieved three items. Ron stopped wiggling immediately when he saw them. “Wha… what are those?” he asked suspiciously of the three objects. “These?” Joy asked as innocently as she could. “These are the gifts. I figured you might want one… you don’t have to though…” “I…!” Ron bolted upright on the bed but then shrunk back down a little bit, obviously embarrassed over his sudden outburst. “I… I can take one. I don’t want to be rude…” he said more calmly. “Nonsense, Ron. You won’t be rude, but I’ll tell you what… I’ll let you choose between them.” Joy then held up the three items more closely to Ron. Ron couldn’t help but nearly freeze in place at their sight. The first was a soft, baby blue blanket, the second was a Little-sized stuffed monkey, and the third was a bright red non-punishment pacifier. Ron’s eyes darted between the three objects, but I couldn’t tell if his expression was more from panic over the three obviously-meant-for-Little’s objects, or if his expression was more of an undecided nature of which to choose from the three in fact wonderful objects. In truth, however, the items represented an important determination factor for Ron. The hypnosis, though mild and could be mostly erased in about a week at this point, could be more potent for some affected. While all three objects would eventually be introduced in some form, Ron choosing the blanket or pacifier could indicate a previous desire to be regressed. It was rare, but it could hurt the outcome of the project as the Little would be more compliant with further practices. Project Nurture needed to take a mature adult and turn them into a regressed and adorable Little, suitable for any desiring Big. Other Littles had their uses, but they would be more helpful elsewhere. I could see Joy waiting with bated breath as well and I swore I could almost hear her yelp a tiny bit when Ron almost chose the blanket. To both of our reliefs though, he chose the stuffed monkey, as was the desired outcome. Joy’s tension immediately left, and she handed the brown stuffed animal to Ron with glee. For his part, Ron took the object with some trepidation at first. He didn’t look at it like a dirty thing or even a bomb like he may have yesterday, but his intense and almost puzzled look showed that Ron was exactly where he needed to be. Accepting but not salivating over a new toy. That would come later. “Thank you…” Ron finally managed to say after looking at his new companion for a moment. “You’re welcome, Ron. I figured you could use a friend… or something like that,” Joy quickly added, just in case Ron’s hypnosis was still fragile and subject to breakage with the wrong phrasing used. “Yeah…” Ron said almost dreamily, “a friend…” With the third trial passed, Joy and I could both tell the hypnosis had done its job, but from Ron’s current expression and demeanor, we could both tell that it was still obviously registering within his mind. More subtle techniques often had the drawback of not fully sticking in a Little’s mind, but the benefits for us outweighed the potential drawbacks. “Well… does your friend have a name?” Joy’s face flinched slightly as the words left her mouth. It was likely a step too far and she knew it. “No… I have to think about that…” Ron said shockingly calmly. “Oh…” Joy said, obviously as shocked as I was. “Well, just let me know when you do, okay?” “Yep! Will do!” Ron said cheerfully, though immediately after he shook his head. If the scene had occurred anywhere else, several follow-up questions would have been asked. Being here and knowing what was likely happening to Ron’s mind though, Joy just smiled and started to leave the room. As she got to the door though, Ron said one more thing that I could tell shocked Joy as well as myself once again. “Thank you, Joy. It means a lot to me.” Joy almost halted like they did in the cartoons, but then calmly turned around with a near plaster look of calm on her face. “You’re wel…” “No… I mean it, really,” Ron interrupted. “I came here all alone and I think I can admit to you that I think it was a mistake coming here. I heard this place was hard and dangerous from some rumors before I left, but… it’s different actually being here in person. If it wasn’t for you…” Ron trailed off and I could see that Joy was practically itching to run over and hug the Little before her. Instead, she just gripped her fists and took a breath. Ron was in a delicate state now. Caution was the way forward and I could tell that Joy took her briefing about this fact to heart. “Well, thank you for saying that, Ron. It means a lot to me. More than you could really know…” Joy trailed off and the two just stared at each other for a moment. There was some unspoken bond forming between the two. Both could see the meaning of the other from their facial expressions alone and it was beautiful to see as an outside observer. It was the unexpected moments like these that gave me real joy in these types of experiments. One could control all the variables they wanted but a genuine connection forming between a Big and a Little at this stage was a wonderful sight to see. The moment soon concluded, and both said goodnight to each other, before Joy silently turned off the lights and closed the door to her Little’s room. Outside the room, she only gave a small, satisfied smile over what had occurred today. If I was a betting man, she likely felt a relief over her position now. Often, when regressing a Little, the said caregiver could feel a heavy burden of guilt for practically destroying the being before them. Sure, instincts are powerful, but tears and angry fits can shake any resolute Big to the core of their beliefs, given they’re not a sadist or something of the sort of course. After tonight though with Ron though, I suspected that I would no longer see the regret or pain in Joy’s eyes in future sessions. Ron could shed many tears and beat his fists bloody in future days, but I could see that Joy now knew this was the right decision for her new Little. I followed Joy for a little bit, but I quickly fast-forwarded the recordings I had been given until I saw Joy begin to creep back up the stairs to go to bed herself. Before entering her own master bedroom though, she made sure that the hallway lights had been turned off, leaving only a small emergency light on in their place to help her on her final task for the day. She then quietly pressed on Ron’s door and peeked in. Illuminated by the diminutive hall light, asleep on the bed was a curled-up Ron, sleeping peacefully and all wrapped around the stuffed monkey that he had just received tonight. Satisfied, Joy then backed out and headed to bed with a warm glow all about her. The recording ended and I felt a wonderous joy leap inside my own chest. The fourth and final test of today had been a complete success. Ron was now exhibiting signs of a growing bond with Joy and had accepted, however hesitantly, the stuffed monkey that he now freely slept with. The light hypnosis today had been small but was evidently the perfect key to unlocking something more in Ron. The combative and traditional initial portal Little had been at least covered up and only a Little with so much potential could be seen now. If today was any indication, I now knew that Ron, and not just Joy, would likely be the perfect candidate for this program. Knowing what was ahead for the Little, it was a wonderful outcome to bear witness to. I could only hope for such results when more… challenging aspects were introduced.

Forty-Nine I’ve never handled change all that well. My mother had always been the one to remind me of this whenever something came along that changed the status quo. For example, when I had finished the 5th grade, I would be moving from the elementary school I had known for the last five years–six, if Kindergarten was to be included–and on to middle school. Where the big kids were. Where there was no recess. A new library that didn’t have all my favorite places to sit and read. I cried about it that summer, unable to accept that an era had come to an end. Of all the things my mother could’ve said to quell my fears about the new school, she sat me down and told me about how challenging it was to potty train me. She told me about how stubborn I had been about it. How I refused to give up my diapers and use the potty. She said that, once, I had marched myself all the way to the bathroom just so that I could squat and pee in my diaper next to the toilet. “And look at you now,” she had said. “You use the toilet like a big boy. And you certainly wouldn’t dream of going back and wetting your pants now, right?” And 11 year old me–naive to the future roughly 10 years ahead–thought that made sense. I sometimes thought about that conversation in the years that followed. When a new, scary, change was before me, I’d just remember that I had once been stubborn about potty training too. It had gotten me through high school graduation. And starting college. Hell, it helped when I started my internship–though it seemed rather ironic now. “Clark, I’m leaving the company.” I thought of this story again as I sat across the booth from Ava. It seemed less relevant now. In fact, it was almost confusing. Here I was, once again in diapers. Years later, diapers had won over the toilet. How was I ever going to adapt to change again? “Why?” I asked. “It’s complicated,” she said, sighing. “So tell me everything, then. Every single detail.” My heart pounded in my chest. I hoped she wasn’t serious. And if she was, I hoped that there was a way for me to convince her to change her mind. I couldn’t imagine the office without her now. I needed Ava to be there. “My mom found my diapers,” she said. “R-really?” I didn’t know Ava’s mother. I could argue that I really didn’t even know Ava all that well yet. But this resonated with me. With my own mother’s arrival approaching, the thought of her finding out about my diapers was the absolute worst case scenario. Apocalyptic. “She didn’t mean to,” Ava said. “And it’s not like she just found a single diaper. She found, like, baby stuff. Pacifiers, you know? It’s hard to make excuses for all that.” “So she knows everything?” “She knows enough,” she said, nodding. “She doesn’t know about Ms. Beaufort or what goes on at the office. But if she did…I don’t think it’d be good. She’d tear that place apart.” I gulped nervously, imagining my mother’s hands wrapped around Ms. Heller’s neck after learning that I was being kept in diapers and chastity for her amusement. “I have to leave,” Ava continued. “I don’t want my mother to learn any more than she has, you know? And…things are kind of weird between me and her right now. I want to rebuild our relationship, and I don’t know if I can while I’m at the office.” “I’m not sure I understand.” “Because I don’t trust myself,” she said. “Ms Beaufort–everyone there, really–creates this bubble, you know? And I lose myself in it. Like that story I told you about pooping my diaper in the Uber? I shouldn’t be doing that. But it’s like I lose control of myself. And…I love it. I really do. Like, it actually excited me when I told you that story just a few minutes ago.” “But if you like it, and your mother doesn’t know about the office, why can’t you just…be more careful and keep doing what you’re doing?” “I don’t trust myself,” she repeated. “I had been really lazy about leaving my baby things around. That’s how my mother found out. And the deeper I fall into this world of breastfeeding and diapers, the more I find myself throwing caution to the wind. And maybe there’ll be a point in my life when that’s okay. But it’s coming between me and my mother now. I…I think I need to step back a little.” “Have you talked to Ms. Beaufort yet?” I asked. “Not yet. I typed up a letter. I think I just needed to talk to someone about it first.” “Wow,” I said. “I can’t believe it.” “You know,” she continued, “the day that my mother found out about the diapers–it was the same day I had talked to Lyndie about the idea of moving in with her.” “Really? I didn’t know that.” “We didn’t actually make plans yet, or anything. But she’s going to be living alone soon and I wanted to get out of my mother’s house. It made sense.” “Do you think that’ll happen if you leave the company?” “I don’t think I want that to happen either, regardless.” I wanted to tell her about Lyndie–about her suspected betrayal–but this didn’t seem like the time. “Why not?” I asked. “For the same reason I think it’d be bad for me to stay working under Ms. Beaufort. I have no control over myself. And living with Lyndie, where I could go about living like a baby, unchecked? I’d probably turn into a literal infant and Lyndie would have to start dropping me off at daycare in the morning.” “I dunno,” I said, shrugging. “That sounds kind of cute.” She laughed. “Clark, do I sound crazy?” There seemed to be no point in being anything other than completely honest. “I want you to stay, Ava. It’s hard for me to imagine you not being there. But. You have to do what’s right for yourself too. And nobody knows that better than you.” “Thank you,” she said. “I needed to hear someone say that. All of that.” “Do you think you’ll give up diapers entirely?” “I don’t know,” she said, shrugging. “Maybe I’ll take a break from it. Re-evaluate. Figure some things out about myself first. Then, I’ll see if I still want them. Or…need them.” I could see myself benefitting from the same course of action. I wouldn’t, of course–I wasn’t ready to give up my diapers. “But,” she said, trying to rekindle the conversation after the booth had gone silent for a few moments. “I’m wearing a diaper now. I haven't given it all up just yet.” This helped to calm me a little. There was still time for her to reconsider. Time for her to find a different way to approach her crisis without abandoning her job. “So, if we’re talking about our personal traumas now,” she said. “I do believe that it’s your turn.” “Ugh.” “Come on. I told you a lot about me. More than I’ve said to anyone else.” “Fair enough.” “Why did you look so upset when you left the office today?” she asked. I didn’t really want to talk about Lyndie–especially after everything Ava had just told me. But, if we were going to start vomiting up uncomfortable truths, it seemed like a topic worth discussing. “Do you know who this Thomas Pritchard guy is?” I asked. “I don’t know him, but I know of him.” “He was initially mad that Lyndie and I had gotten promotions and he didn’t. But since then, I guess he’s learned a few things about the assistants.” “Like…diapers?” I nodded. “I think so. The company is going to have him sign an NDA in exchange for a settlement of some sort.” “But how does he know what he thinks he knows?” “Someone is telling him about it,” I said, shrugging. “Who would do that?” I sighed, swallowing hard. It was even harder to say than I thought it would be. “I think…it might be Lyndie.” “What?” “I know. It doesn’t make any sense, but… I saw him leaving the nursery today. It was just the two of them in there. Why else would he be in there?” “There has to be another explanation,” Ava said. “She would never rat us out! She’s our friend!” “What other explanation could there be? You can’t go into the nursery without seeing everything. All the diapers. The changing table. Like, he knows everything now.” “But…Lyndie wouldn’t…” “I don’t know what happened,” I said. “I don’t know what she said to him, and I don’t know why. But something happened, and I can’t ignore that.” “You probably don’t want to hear this,” Ava said. “But I feel like that only reaffirms I should be leaving that job.” I shrugged. “I mean, I understand why you’d feel that way.” “Clark, if we can’t trust Lyndie–who can we trust?” It felt a little dramatic, though I’d have been lying if I said I hadn’t thought the same thing. Our world–our lives as ‘babies’–seemed dependent on everything working the way it was supposed to. The right amount of privacy. The right amount of the staff not knowing what was going on behind closed doors. With big careers on the line, was there a point in which Ms. Heller or Ms. Beaufort would throw us under the bus to save themselves? It was a question that I was terrified to know the answer for. “You can trust me,” I said. She nodded. “I know I can. And you can trust me, too.” Food came, and we ate. We had mostly fallen silent, save for some small talk here and there–neither of us seemed to be sure what we were supposed to be talking about now. Somewhere, amidst the quiet, I wet my diaper. As per usual, it barely registered as something I was doing until I felt the diaper growing warm and swelling between my legs. I wondered if she noticed my cheeks reddening, but she either didn’t, or didn’t mention it. “So,” I said, figuring it was my turn to end this round of silence. “Maybe it was more fun when we were distracting ourselves from our problems.” “Those are problems for later,” she said, a slight smile returning to her face. “Your mother isn’t here yet. I haven’t quit my job yet. This Pritchard guy hasn't blown up our world yet. We don’t know for sure that Lyndie has done anything wrong yet. Right now…we’re just two friends getting food.” “In diapers,” I added. “Because we’re big babies.” “The biggest babies,” she said. “Are you, uh, staying dry?” I asked, my hand feeling my own warm diaper under the table. She shook her head. “Not really.” “No?” “I’m…damp. And what about you?” “Wet. For sure.” “Maybe I’m a little more than just damp,” she offered, shrugging. “I’d offer to have you come back to my place and change…but I’m just not sure I’d be in the mood for Evan’s snark when I bring you home with me.” “Fair enough,” she said. “Likewise, I don’t think waddling into my house with a boy–a boy in diapers–is the best move right now. It’s hard enough dealing with my mother’s judging eyes as it is.” “My diaper is probably good for a while yet,” I said. “After this, if you want to keep hanging out, maybe we could take a walk or something?” Ava’s face lit up a little. “That sounds perfect.” It was a win-win. We were friends who wanted to spend time together. But also, neither of us wanted to go home. Neither of us wanted to return to the real-world and be one step closer to having to face the things we didn’t want to face. So we’d just pretend it didn’t exist for a little longer. After we settled the bill, we laughed at each other as we made our way out of the diner. Each of us could see that the other had that tell-tale ‘saggy-diaper’ stroll that we knew too well ourselves. The sort of thing that, hopefully, wasn’t as obvious to anyone else. “You walk like a toddler,” Ava said to me once we got outside. Away from people, her voice was a little louder, and hearing her statement echo down the street caused me to blush some. “Y-you should talk. I’m, uh, surprised you weren’t crawling out of the diner.” “Good one,” she said, her tone steeped in sarcasm. We started walking. Neither of us had suggested a place to go, we were just moving. Just as I thought I was following her, I wondered if she thought she was following me. “I’ll have to practice my diaper-specific shit-talking.” She feigned a gasp. “Do you kiss your mommy with that mouth?” “Don’t tell her I cursed,” I joked. “She’d spank me, for sure.” “Don’t act like you wouldn’t love that.” I shrugged. “Speaking of kissing…” I should’ve seen this coming. “Yeah?” “I hope I didn’t make things too weird when I tried to kiss you last week,” said Ava. “It was just an…impulse.” “Even Ms. Heller seemed a little confused that I didn’t kiss you back,” I said, shrugging. “She told Ms. Beaufort about it, you know?” I nodded. “She said she’d do that.” I tried to remember the conversation I had with Mommy when I told her about Ava kissing me. She had seemed relatively unphased by the news–which had surprised me because the only reason I hadn’t reciprocated the kiss was due to my fear of Mommy having a bad reaction to it. In fact, she had only one request: That I tell her about it first if I later decided I wanted to pursue any sort of relationship with Ava. Or, as Mommy had put it, if I felt any special way about Ava. Waddling down the sidewalk with her now in the streetlight, our diapers plenty moist as we joked with each other, I was feeling some special ways. I almost laughed at the thought of stopping and ducking into an alley so I could quickly text Mommy. “It’s happening! Special ways!” I’d do no such thing. It felt good to be a 20-something guy again. Sure, I was in a diaper and my cock was just about useless. But I was out in the town with a smiling young woman and, goddammit, it felt like a welcome change of pace. “Did Ms. Beaufort care?” I asked. “She wants me to kiss boys and have relationships. She tried to set me up before?” “Really? With, like, guys from the office?” “No,” she said, laughing. “I have no idea where she found these guys.” “So you actually went out with these guys?” “Mmhmm. I mean, she’s probably tried to set me up with, like, four or five guys by now. But I’ve only actually gone on two dates now.” “And how did that go?” Her dramatic sigh was probably enough to go on, though she seemed willing to elaborate. “The first guy just wasn’t compatible with me. He was good looking and smart–I could see why she wanted me to go out with him. But he just didn’t have any sense of…whimsy. I think the date was pretty much over before we even finished our appetizer.” “Whimsy?” I asked. “Is that a quality you’re looking for in a partner?” She shrugged. “Sure, why not. Are you whimsical, Clark?” “Not on purpose, I don’t think.” She giggled. “Self-awareness of your own level of whimsy is, I think, whimsical.” “What about the other date?” “It went better, I guess,” she said. “Though ‘better’ doesn’t mean it was good. But this one not working out was my fault.” “What happened?” “I peed my pants,” Ava said, matter-of-factly. “And I wasn’t wearing diapers. I just…forgot that I wasn’t a baby for a single night. Next thing you know, piss is soaking through my jeans and puddling on the floor below me at the bar.” “Oh my god. What did you do?” “What could I do? I ran! I don’t even think I said goodbye to him, I just grabbed my purse and fled the bar. O’Halloran’s over on 16th? I still can’t bring myself to go back there. I’m terrified that whoever mopped up my piss will see me and remember me.” “How long ago was this? I’m sure they’ve forgotten by now.” “A year, give or take. But I doubt I’ll feel any different when it’s been ten years. I’m never going back to O'Halloran's.” “At least you’re wearing diapers tonight. Like a good girl.” She quickly laughed off my jest, her cheeks a little rosy as we strolled forward. “But it was a good date before I pissed myself.” “Yeah?” “Mommy–uhm, Ms. Beaufort…” It was always reassuring to know that I wasn’t the only one with this problem. “...she observed that I have a tendency to, uhm, wet myself when I get excited?” “Really?” I asked. “That’s pretty cute.” She shrugged, her cheeks a bit more red now. “It makes dating hard…unless I’m in a diaper. And then dating is hard for an entirely different reason.” “I think the solution is pretty obvious,” I said, shrugging. “Oh?” “You have to date people who are also wearing diapers.” “That makes sense,” she said, a wry smile on her face. “But where am I going to find another guy in diapers?” I thought I had a pretty good reply lined up–something about just following your nose–but as I opened my mouth to speak, she had taken a step in front of me. It all happened so fast–her face leaning in towards mine, her lips pressing against mine. This time I kissed her back. A minute later, when she pulled her wet lips back from mine, she smiled at me mischievously. “See? I got excited and…wet myself again.”

I'm the youngest by far in my family, so the only babysitters I had were my older siblings and grandmother.

Second Course - Cocktail Hour “Didn’t realize you were such a lightweight,” Sarah said with a giggle, tracing her fingers down his bare chest, and getting only a low groan in response. Not willing to let him go that easily, she pulled her body closer to his, until her bare chest made contact with his. Her face was close enough he could feel her breath upon his neck, and with every breath he felt her soft breasts press into him. He opened his eyes slowly, the room warm with light from the setting sun, and turned his head towards her. “Good morning, Miss Sarah,” he spoke, his voice still heavy with sleep. He watched as a genuine smile and excitement broke out across her face, and wondered what he had done in the past few hours to earn such a response, but the lingering taste of alcohol in his mouth told him he was unlikely to get a clear answer from inside his lightly throbbing head. Instead of answers, he settled for the present, and leaned his head in for a gentle kiss, which she reciprocated. Her lips were soft, sweet, and… that was it. He kissed her again, and as much as she seemed to enjoy the exchange, his body hardly reacted. He felt her nipples harden against his chest, but felt no reciprocal hardening in himself. Confused, but not deterred, he began to caress her body as they continued to make out. Her curves were beautiful, warm, lovely to touch, and yet, left him soft. As she moaned, he held back a panic attack. Noticing his labored breathing, she let her hand wander south along his body, stopping at the waistband of his underwear. Her thumb hooked under it, while her fingers traveled along the outside of the material, gently caressing what should have been a throbbing erection, but found only soft. Her eyes met his, watching his internalized terror leaking out, darting for safety any way they could but finding none. She kissed him softly on the forehead while freeing her hand from his loins then pulled his head down onto her chest. “Shhhhh,” she consoled him, “its okay.” His only replies were muttered words and tears. They stayed like that for a time, her heart beating in his ear slowly bringing his back into rhythm. Eventually his tears stopped and he took several long, slow breaths. “It was probably just too much alcohol,” she explained, still holding his head between her breasts. “We have the whole weekend to try again, you know.” Tyler just nodded, burying his head further in her chest. Her words made sense, but didn’t make him feel any better about his failure. So he resolved to just stay in the embrace for as long as he could, hide from it while nestled in her breasts, but she had other plans. “Aww, I know you like them Ty,” she said, lifting him by the chin and kissing his forehead, “but the whole reason I woke you was Dinner was soon, and I don’t think the others would appreciate if we arrived there naked.” After a few whimpers and considering asking to go eat without him, Tyler finally nodded in agreement. “Yes Miss Sarah,” he said without making eye contact. The two went about to get presentable as the afternoon gave way to evening, and some hidden lighting came on in the unit. Tyler took a quick shower while Sarah brushed out her hair and did her makeup. She combed through the expansive wardrobe she brought for the weekend, and selected a long, slinky red dress, pulling it up and over every curve in her body. A matching pair of heels, a slender gold necklace with a heart pendant and a matching bracelet completed the look. She checked herself over in the mirror, when she caught view of Tyler. He stood, dumbfounded, at his suitcase. It should have been a simple task, but looking through his clothes, his mind couldn’t settle on what to wear. It was like a puzzle he just couldn’t solve. He would pick up a shirt, but couldn’t put it together with any of the pants or ties. He fumbled even laying them out on the floor trying to see the bigger picture, but it never came together. “Here sweetie, let me help,” Sarah said, kissing him on the cheek. He watched as she effortlessly assembled an outfit for him, and even laid it out on the bed. Dark pants, white shirt, red tie, dark jacket. It all made sense when she did it, so why couldn’t he figure that out? It was like something had been in the way, clogging up his mind, causing it to run in circles rather than the straight lines it had always known. Pushing that concerning thought aside for the moment, he started getting dressed. “Ty! Come on, this isn’t the time to be funny,” Sarah reprimanded him, slapping his hands so he dropped the pants. She pulled out a pair of underwear and held it up. “Remember these?” she asked rhetorically. He didn't actually. They didn’t look like his, but his objection was cut off as he realized the issue. He had started to get dressed without them, and so sheepishly reached out to take them from her and put them on. “Nope, we don’t have time for you to play any more games,” she said, holding the unusual briefs out for him to step into. “Now, mister.” Her words were suddenly absolute, and he put aside every other objection in his mind just to escape that tone in her voice. He put his legs through the holes, as she pulled the garment up around his waist. He shifted his weight, feeling how they were thicker than usual, almost like there was some padding between the inner and outer layers. Scarcely did he have time to contemplate that though before she was putting his pants, shirt, tie, jacket, socks and shoes onto him. He didn’t object, he knew he had done something wrong and needed her help, even if his mind couldn’t land on what or how. So, he just stood there and let her move his limbs however she needed, until she turned him towards the mirror and stood alongside him. She had always been out of his league, he knew that, but this put them in sharp relief. She was beautiful, head to toe. An absolute ten, and dressed like she knew it. He hadn’t even picked out the outfit, and while she added some touches that made him look sharper than he would have, he looked out of place. It hung oddly: too lose here, too tight there, and his lack of confidence only made it wear worse. His closed body posture mixed with endless fidgeting created wrinkles where there were none. He thought himself a miserable thing, until he caught how she looked at him. Sarah had a wide smile, admiring her work. To Tyler, this read as an acceptance of sorts, that she saw something in him that he couldn’t himself. She did, mind you, but if he had known what that something was, he would have been terrified. For she saw that the Heartfruit had done its work, and the suggestions and reprogramming she did while he was under its effects had all stuck. She had only one left to test. “Ty, you have everything?” she asked, grabbing a small red handbag for herself. “Yes Miss Sarah,” he said, patting his pockets to be sure. Keys, wallet, phone. All good. She sighed and pointed at a very large teddy bear sitting on a chair by the door. “I think someone is forgetting something.” It took him a moment to take in what he heard and saw. The bear was completely foreign to him. Its brown fur and light muzzle were cute, sure, but he swore he had never… held it lovingly in his arms. He shook his head, his mouth going dry trying to work this out. The pink heart shapes on its paws sent a chill down his spine, and his fingers and toes curled as he fought back an extreme need to hold it and never let go. His eyes darted up to Sarah, then back to the stuffy. She looked impatient, maybe even frustrated, but not judgmental. Her continued pointing even seemed to suggest that it was… okay for him to take the teddy bear and never ever ever let go. He took shy little steps towards it, gauging her reaction. She really didn’t seem to be stopping him, just watching, like a patient parent about to start counting to ten. Finally, the scales tipped in his mind and he lunged for the bear, sweeping it up in his arms and dancing at the pleasantness of its embrace. The bear was nearly as tall as he was, and holding it nearly swallowed him up. He squealed joyfully into the fluff, and got his hair tousled by Sarah in return. “Ready now?” she asked with a laugh. “Uh huh!” he said hastily, before pausing and looking at her, “err, uhm, yes Miss Sarah.” “Good boy, now its dinner time,” she said, putting her hand to the doorknob, once again causing it to chime and unlock. Sarah led the way to the main hall, Tyler following behind, too engrossed in hugging the teddy bear to hold her hand. It was absolutely fascinating, the bear was soft, and squishy, and so extremely huggable, he found himself lost in it. He giggled to himself, whispered how much he loved the bear, and made him feel so… He froze in place, holding the bear tight, trying to hide behind it. It wasn’t until a moment later that Sarah noticed she no longer heard his muffled squeals that she turned around and found him. “Ty, what’s wrong?” she asked, trying unsuccessfully to pull his face from all the fluff. He didn’t answer. “I won’t be mad, baby, I promise,” she said, stroking his hair from behind, trying to comfort him, but he wouldn’t, couldn’t say it. It didn’t matter though; his silence was all the confirmation she needed. After the humiliating failure to perform earlier, and after what she had planted in his mind, she already knew the truth. She reached a hand down, between him and the bear. There she felt the throbbing truth, pressed firm against the front of his special underwear. He whimpered pleasantly, and she made a warm noise before whispering in his ear: “Good Baby.”

Chapter 7: Visitor Parum Mortis – LittleFallenPrincess “Wait… Sis?” Mama said, standing up and staring at the front door. “Of course it’s your sister. Who else do you think it would be? Now let me in.” Replied the familiar voice from the other side of it. “I’m… busy.” “I just had to dispel a fucking curse on your house just to get to the fucking front door. Open this door now and tell me what the hell you did, otherwise I’m going to blast my way through.” “UGH FINE. DON’T RUIN MY FRONT DOOR!” Mama yelled, her shoulders dropping as she stomped over to the front door. Before she could reach it though, she quickly turned to me with a panicked expression and signalled me to move. “Baby… nursery… now!” She ordered. “Buh…” I complained. “NOW…” She snapped. Doing as she said, I crawled off into the nursery as quickly as I could, closing the door behind me… but leaving it ajar just enough that I could peek out. I couldn’t see most of the living room from here, all I could see was the front door. And as Mama neared it, my box of toys flew across my narrow field of vision, into the cupboard at the side of the room. Unlocking the door, Mama slowly opened it before whoever it was burst through, knocking Mama back a bit. “What… what have you done now?” The person growled at Mama. “I don’t know what you mean…” I had never heard Mama sound so… nervous. “First you don’t reply to my calls or my letters. I barely see you outside of that one family meeting we had and the weekly shopping drop offs. For three weeks! THREE WEEKS!” “I… I’ve been busy…” “Don’t get me started on that… What on Earth have you been doing exactly? I know what happened to Susan was devastating… so I understand isolating yourself… but you barely said a word to me at the meeting, and then I come here to find your house shrouded by a cloud of darkness. As if you had…” “I’m fine.” Mama interrupted. “You don’t seem fine. Look, I’m your sister, I can tell when something isn’t right… and more importantly, when you’re keeping something from me. So are you going to tell me, or do I have to interrogate you?” At this point I had recognised the voice as someone I had talked to in the past… but I couldn’t remember where from. And Mama’s body was currently blocking any view of this stranger’s body, so other than ‘Sis’, I had no idea who this was. ‘Wait… sis… does dat mean her sister? As in Auntie…’ “AUNTIE TRIXIE!” I shouted, opening the door and crawling out of the nursery, excited to see my favourite Auntie. Auntie Trixie pushed Mama aside quickly and looked down at me… like she had no idea who I was. She looked just the same as I remembered her. Black combat boots, ripped fishnet tights, jean shorts, a black cami and jean jacket, a shirt wrapped around her waist that was tied by the sleeves, her beautiful red hair tied up into big pigtails. They had very similar hair, Mama and Trixie, buh Mama always looked more grown up. Despite them being born only minutes apart Mama would always boast about being the big sister. “S… Sus… Susan?” Her hands rushed to her mouth in shock as I crawled over to her and reached my arms out for a cuddle. “Auntie Trixie! I misseded you!” Auntie Trixie reached down and grabbed me, lifting me up and holding me in her arms. “Auntie? I…” She said as she slowly turned to Mama. “Beth… what the Hell did you do?” “I can explain…” Mama said, closing the front door. “Oh this is going to be good…” Auntie Trixie bounced me up and down on her hip as she stared daggers at Mama. “I… look…” “Wait… this is why you visited Grandma’s house weeks ago? You wanted one of her books?” “I… yes.” “You know we stopped that practice centuries ago.” “And I had to bring it back…” Mama snapped at her. “Did you? You know how dangerous it is! Especially when you haven’t done it before!” Auntie Trixie seemed really angry at Mama for some reason, which made me feel a bit uncomfortable. “I KNOW! BUT I COULDN’T LOSE HER!” Mama yelled. “I understand your…” “DO YOU? DO YOU REALLY? YOU’VE NEVER LOST ANYONE!” “I…” “I WOULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING. EVEN MADE A DEAL WITH THE DEVIL.” Mama seemed really defensive now… “But this… you don’t know what could have happened…” Auntie Trixie tried arguing back. “I don’t care!” “Speaking of which… Did anything happen? Last time I remembered… you weren’t on nappy-changing duty… yet.” Auntie asked, eyeing me up and down. “You noticed… huh?” All of a sudden, Mama’s expression turned to that of… embarrassment. “I mean… it’s hard not to…” “Look… I promise I didn’t intend it to be this way. I promise I didn’t force anything on her. It just… something happened.” “Obviously… So go on, what happened.” “I followed it to the tee. But… I’m not sure… she started acting like this…” “Like a baby?” “...Yes.” It felt like Mama and Auntie were talking about me, but I wasn’t exactly sure what exactly they were saying, it all just sounded very vague and confusing to me, so I focused on snuggling up to Auntie Trixie’s chest. “I know you were going to…” Auntie Trixie said, before being cut off by Mama. “Yes, I did… and then…” “So you think that had something to do with it?” “Maybe. I don’t know. I’ve been researching ever since, but as of right now… I have no idea.” “And she… she’s happy? Is she still… her?” “Seemingly so. Mostly. I tried to not do it, not to play along… but it’s like she's… transfixed on it. No memory of before three weeks ago.” “Ugh. Right. Well first things first… you’re an idiot.” Trixie said, rolling her eyes. “Why?” Replied Mama, confused. “You know why. And secondly… we have to fix this.” “Don’t you think I’ve tried that? I didn’t want it this way!” “Clearly…” Auntie eyed me up again and smiled at me, making my heart happy. “Shut up, Trix.” “You know I hate that name.” “Sorry, I forgot you go by Bea now.” “It’s more professional.” Auntie Trixie smiled at me again. “But this little one can call me Auntie Trixie if she wants. God, she’s adorable. I can see why you like this stuff.” My tummy felt all squirmy and my heart felt happy as Auntie Trixie smiled at me and bounced me gently in her arms. “Isn’t she just?” Replied Mama. “You’re lucky I know you. Otherwise I would have assumed…” “I know. But I promise, I had no idea.” “So wait… that darkness… Oh Beth… seriously? You’ve gone and pissed off Death now?” “I said I’m sorry!” Mama whined. “Not as sorry as you’ll be if they manage to get in.” “You’ve had an experience with them?” “Not personally, but my friend is a… business connection. She told me all about them. Very understanding and lovely… even to souls who choose to stay on this Earth as spirits. Not so much when they are taken from them.” “So having done this…” “Oh… they’re going to be pissed. What warding do you have?” Auntie asked Mama. “I… have some runes and some blood magic… it seems to have done the trick so far…” I really had no idea what either of these two were talking about at this point, it was all silly nonsense to me. Maybe they were playing a game? If so, I hope I get to play soon too! “Try Granny Edith’s runes. They may work better than Grandma Esther’s.” Auntie suggested. “Oh snap! Of course. Thanks, sis.” “So wait, this is why you had me drop off all those groceries… and why you wouldn’t let me in? And why… you didn’t turn up to her funeral?” Auntie Trixie asked Mama. “I… yes. I was hoping to get it all fixed before I revealed to you what I did. And I skipped her funeral… because I had to, and because there was nothing in her casket, I had already taken her from the morgue. Her soul was still on this Earth, and I realised it must be that she wanted to witness it… so I had a time limit. Otherwise she’d be…” “With the angels? Yeah, I get it. But still… you’re an idiot. You know we work best together. Even if you’re the one who got Grandma’s necromancy talent, a lot of this could have been avoided with my help.” “How so?” Asked Mama. “For one… we could have figured out a way NOT to piss Death off.” “Are they really that bad? Grandma managed to evade them for centuries.” “And in the end… Death won. Death ALWAYS wins.” Trixie looked really serious at this point. “Look, how can we fix this?” Mama asked her. “I don’t know if we can. But I’m here now. Let me have a look at the book you used to bring her back. Maybe I can find something you missed.” “Fine, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t miss a thing…” Mama said, walking off. I looked up at Auntie Trixie… or… Bea? I wasn’t sure. Buh she said I could call her Auntie Trixie still, so I do dat for now! Anyway, I looked up at her, her cute little face that looked very similar to Mama’s, and reached up and kissed her cheek. “What’s that for, sweetie?” Auntie Trixie asked. “I misseded you!” I replied. She returned the favour by kissing my forehead before smiling at me. “I ‘misseded’ you too, little one. Though I wasn’t expecting to see you like this…” “Like wha?” “...Nevermind. I’m just glad you’re okay. Mostly anyway. Is your Mummy taking care of you well enough?” “Uh huh! She deh bestest!” “Doesn’t seem like it…” Auntie Trixie said as she squished the back of my wet nappy with her free hand. “Looks like someone needs a change…” “I was just about to! But then Death turned up, then you turned up… and well, yeah. She needs them now, even if she wasn’t… like this.” “How?” “I managed to fix most of the damage, but not all.” “Oh she’s going to love this when she gets back to normal…” Auntie Trixie rolled her eyes at Mama, before looking back at me and smiling. “Right, you finish getting all the stuff you used, I’m going to go change this little Princess.” “Wait… you are going to change her?” “If that’s okay with Princess Susie?” Trixie asked me. “Uh huh!” I nodded happily. “Oh… umm… are you sure? It’s… not exactly your thing…” “She’s practically family, and you know I adored her. Her Mummy is busy, so Auntie Trixie is going to take care of this for her. It may not be my thing… but I’m still happy to do it.” “Well okay then… by all means, go for it.” Mama said. “The nursery is…” “I know where it is.” Auntie rolled her eyes at Mama, she clearly wasn’t impressed with her. Auntie Trixie bounced me in place a bit before walking off towards the nursery, humming a little tune as she carried me in, closing the door behind us. Walking over to the changing table and laying me down gently, Auntie Trixie looked down at me and took a deep breath. “Sweetie?” She asked. “Uh huh?” I replied, looking up at her in wonder. “Are you okay?” “Uh huh!” “I don’t know what my sister did. But if there’s any part of you in there… please listen… I don’t think she meant this.” “You’re silly!” I giggled. “I am, aren’t I? That’s why I’m your favourite Auntie!” She said, tickling my tummy gently. “Buh you my only Auntie!” “...Doesn’t change my point. Still your favourite. I win!” She grinned, making me giggle more. “Right… let me see if I remember how to change these infernal things… It’s been a while, so be patient, sweetie.” Auntie Trixie then proceeded to change me, making sure I was all clean and powdered and everything! She even did the tapes not too badly either, they were mostly in the right position. “I don’t think I did a bad job. Never thought I’d be changing your nappies though…” “Why dat, Auntie?” “Just… because. Now… Do you have a dummy or something?” “Uh huh! Usually next to the powders and stuffs, I finks.” “Should have thought of that before I changed you, shouldn’t I? Silly me. Well next time… if there is a next time and we haven’t fixed everything by then… I’ll remember to pop it in before I change you. For now…” Auntie Trixie leant down and grabbed a dummy from the changing table, before standing back up and reaching over, popping the dummy into my open mouth, where I started to suckle on it instinctively. “Right, let’s go see if we can’t help your Mama fix this mess she’s got you both into, shall we?” ========================================================= So... who was expecting this certain visitor? 😊 Really excited to see the reactions to this one! I hope everyone enjoys this chapter! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the remaining chapters are available on my Patreon which can be found here if you go for the second tier. New chapters of Parum Mortis every Wednesday/Sunday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks!

Look, a lot of people are using AI as a tool to help them write, but you can't expect AI to write the story for you. It just doesn't work, because it doesn't understand the purpose of the story.

Chapter 29: Slipping Author’s note: Haven’t done one of these in a while! I realized that I criminally neglected giving Grace a stuffie at any point, so she has one that she got early on from Pearce to be her a crib companion. Despite his needling and teasing her about it, Grace won’t admit to having named the hedgehog. Brains. “I’ll see you later, okay?” Connor said. “I’ll call you after this meeting.” Brains hovered on the porch, fingers interlaced with his–boyfriend? Partner? The guy he was dating? He still hadn’t asked if they’d gotten to the point of labels yet, even after a month, and he didn’t know when it would be appropriate to ask. Still, he waited. He blushed, but needed to ask something else. “Erm. I can kiss you, right?” His boy-part-dating-guy laughed. (He’s got such a nice laugh.) “You’ve got such a nice laugh.” “You don’t need to ask every time,” Connor said, leaning in to press his lips on Brains. As always, Brains’ brains deadlocked, freezing up when their bodies came together. He half expected his hair to stand straight up and smoke to start coming out his ears like a cartoon, but no hijinks played out around his head, and after a moment, they separated. “But,” Connor continued, “I think it’s cute that you still do.” “I love you,” Brains blurted, before he could catch himself. (Agh, no, no, it’s too soon–) Connor’s smile deepened. “I love you too, Barry.” It still felt strange that Connor used Brains’ real name and not his social group moniker, but he’d gotten used to it. And– (He just said it back! He said it back!) A stupid grin spreading on his face, Brains leaned in and kissed his love. They held the embrace until they both needed air. Not wanting their romantic gesture to get Connor in trouble, Brains whispered, “Are you going to be late for your meeting?” “You really are just constantly thoughtful, aren’t you?” Connor smiled so warmly Brains wondered if he should apply sunscreen. “You’re right, though, I should rush. Wonderful afternoon, can’t wait to see you again, I love you–text me?” “Mhmm,” Brains said, in a daze. “Bye…” “If your head’s still in the clouds in four hours, talk to your doctor,” Connor quipped, turning to scurry down the front sidewalk to his car. Floating dreamily, Brains turned, hovering into his home. The state of euphoria lasted about three seconds, then he saw Grace. She was on the couch. Alone, wearing only a onesie and her diaper. Surrounded by a slight pee smell–nothing unusual for her of late, of course. Aside from all the normal, though, he could sense she was upset. If he could sense she was upset, then something was definitely wrong. Her eyes were red, and she had a runny nose, though if she’d been crying she must have suddenly decided to wipe off her face and stop just before he walked inside. Regardless, she needed him, so he left his giddy headspace and sat down to help a friend–she needed it, and even if it was a bit of a bummer, he didn’t mind. “Something wrong?” he asked, taking up the opposite side of the couch from her. She glanced over at him. He could see the thought playing in her head–she was asking herself, ‘Is it worth it to explain this to Brains’. He got that expression a lot. “Sorry,” Brains clarified. “I know something’s wrong. I’d like to know what it is, and if there’s any way I can help.” “Can you do magic?” Grace asked. Though he expected her question was hypothetical, he answered, “No, sorry.” “Do you have a million dollars?” He shrugged and shook his head. “I’ve got some money in savings, but not like, that kind of money.” Grace crossed her arms. “If I said I needed to borrow a hundred bucks, right now, no questions asked, would you give it to me?” Reaching for his phone, Brains scrolled, looking for his banking app. “Let me check my balance–” “Hypothetical, Brains, I’m not asking for money,” she said. (She just did, twice, but…okay, sure.) “I’d give it to you, if I had it,” he said. “Uh-huh. And what if I didn’t pay it back, and said I needed to borrow more?” That seemed like a good enough time for a joke–something to lighten the mood a little and make her feel better. “I’d ask what drug dealer you pissed off.” Her expression flattened, and she looked away. (Ah, beans. Wrong time for a joke.) “I’d give it to you,” he said again. “And maybe ask if you were in trouble, if you needed something else.” “Okay. How many times?” Grace asked. “How many times could I ask for help before you decided I wasn’t worth the expense and gave up?” He actually did check his balance, then, doing a little math. “I guess, five. Then I’d have to find something else to help you, because, like…If I lend you money and can’t make rent, I’m not exactly making things better, I’m just digging a new hole.” “Brains,” Grace said, “You’re not getting it.” “Yeah,” he agreed, trying not to express too much annoyance at her refusal to be direct. “I’m not. You don’t actually need money, so what are you actually asking for?” “I’m making a point,” Grace said, exasperated–Brains could tell by the way she threw her hands in the air for a moment. “There’s a certain point where, if someone asks for too much, you stop giving.” “Yeah,” Brains said, “Because I’d be out of money. If a friend asks for help, you help them–until you can’t, at least.” “No, it’s–You know what? Never mind. I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong.” Brains knew she was lying, but also doubted he could get her to open up and admit the truth. Shrugging, he got up. “Okay, well... Let me know if you do need any money, okay? I can–” Grace shot him a look that communicated, ‘Seriously?’ about as well as any body language could, and he nodded. “Right. Sorry. Bye.” … Melody. “Muah,” Melody half said, breaking off from the kiss before leaning in for two more. Tilly was a dream, a delight to hang out with, and an excellent kisser–she’d been an excellent way to spend a Friday evening. Melody got two more quick pecks in before finally pulling away for good. “Fantastic night,” Tilly said, checking her lipstick in the mirror and making a little pinkie-thumb phone gesture. “Call me?” “Absolutely,” Melody promised, getting out of the car. Tilly had dropped her in the alleyway out back, and Melody blew kisses at her most recent paramour until Tilly turned the corner, at which point she took out her phone, pulled up Tilly’s contact info, and erased it, strolling cheerfully to the back door. No second dates. No attachments. Attachments brought complications, and she didn’t want to mess up her life. Then again, she’d started to blow through the eligible dating pool in town… but that would be a problem for future Melody. Tonight, she just wanted simple relaxation. Instead, walking into the kitchen, she found Pearce. “Hey,” she said, walking past him to get to the fridge. She wanted a beer and something for a late snack. “Hey,” Pearce said, looking up from the dishes he’d been scrubbing. “Grabbing a drink?” “Yeah,” she said, grabbing the bottom shelf crap they always purchased–it didn’t matter about the taste, it was sixteen bucks for a twenty four pack. “Grab me one too?” he asked. “Sure.” Popping two tabs, she passed him one and sipped the other, giving him a slight side eye. He noticed, unfortunately. “Don’t worry, Grace is asleep. I’m off the clock until morning.” “Not what I was thinking,” Melody replied, throwing back her drink. If they were going to talk about this, she’d want a second beer. Lowering the can, she added, just in case, “Your bet isn’t my problem.” He considered, flicking suds off his hands to pick up the can and take a sip. “Mind if I make it yours, just for a minute? I’m not asking you to care, I just want your opinion.” “Ugh,” Melody said, rolling her eyes. He shrugged, turning back to the dishes. “Fine, I won’t–” “No, no, it’s fine, you just had to be polite and thoughtful and actually ask so now I can’t feel righteously pissy about it–and I’d been looking forward to feeling righteously pissy about it.” Melody admitted, setting aside the can and opening the fridge again. “Yeah, of course I can listen. What’s up?” “It’s complicated.” Pearce stopped and wiped his hands off, abandoning the dishes for a moment. “You know the whole blowup a few days ago?” “On Monday, right?” Melody grabbed a takeout box, peering inside–fried chicken, and still good. Perfect. “Only kinda, I steered clear of that whole mess.” “I’ll summarize, I guess,” Pearce said, taking another sip of his beer. “So–ugh, okay. It’s like…so, she and I–” Melody smirked, dumping chicken onto a microwave safe plate and popping it in. (Get to it, you’re almost there.) “We…” Pearce started. “On Saturday, we fucked.” He looked at her, waiting for the glimmer of recognition or surprise. Melody just shrugged. “Took you two long enough.” He blinked, and his look of surprise was enough for Melody to no longer regret the conversation. “You knew?” “I mean, duh,” Melody said. “You’re like–how do I put this? You two are a couple magnets. The only states you can exist in are repelled as far apart as you can get, or stuck together grinding all your bits together. Anything else is unstable and just going to fall apart as soon as the pressure goes away.” Turning slightly pink, Pearce avoided answering, buying time with another swig of his beer. “So, anyways–I left, to go sleep in my bed, and I forgot my phone. I didn’t wake up on time.” Melody winced. “Grace isn’t exactly a fan of things not sticking to schedule. You apologized, right?” “I’m not done,” Pearce continued. “So she wakes up, and she noticed I’m asleep, and she just didn’t do anything. She left me sleeping until almost five in the evening.” Wincing harder, Melody took her chicken out of the microwave. “Ouch. That’s a pretty harsh reaction.” “Still not done,” Pearce continued. “Oh, hell.” “So when I am awake, and trying to figure out what I’m going to do after I lost a whole day, she just won’t get off my back, insisting that I broke a ton of rules, and I need to pay penalties for each of them.” He sighed, draining his drink. “It was like four hundred bucks.” Melody whistled, returning to the fridge one last time and taking out two more beers. Extending one to Pearce, she waited. He initially didn’t take it, so she added, “Hey, you filled up the beer fund–at least get your money’s worth. That’s messed up, buddy.” He accepted the can, popped the top, and let the foam drip over his fingers. “Still not done.” (Seriously?) She widened her eyes, waiting for him to continue. He obliged, using the can to gesture. “So–I was mad, right? I was pissed, and she was pissed, and she wouldn’t leave me alone, so I said she’d broken a bunch of rules and put her in time out.” “Uh-huh.” Melody nodded. “So that’s when Brains texted me. Okay. Is that everything?” “I guess.” Pearce sighed, leaning hard against the counter, looking like a balloon that’d started to deflate. “So what do you need the opinion on?” Melody asked, sitting down to her microwaved dinner. “We’re–we’re bad for each other, right?” Pearce asked. “She’s… she’s so focused on winning this stupid bet, she did that. I don’t know what to say, like, she had so many opportunities to make it better, and she kept taking the low road, and–fucking hell, am I crazy here? Is that not unreasonable to do?” “Oh, no, she’s definitely unreasonable,” Melody agreed. “I’d point out that you’re still competing, though–hard to call her out too much when you won’t just walk away.” “Sure, but like…” Pearce looked away, sighing for a moment. “Sorry, words. Trying to think how to say this. Yeah, I’m being selfish–I don’t want to prove her right. I give up, she’ll never let me hear the end of it, and…” “And you can’t give her the satisfaction after she fucked you?” Melody raised an eyebrow. “Metaphorically. Not literally. Though, if you haven’t tried a strap–” “That’s not it,” Pearce said. “I just, I thought she was starting to actually like me, you know? That we could be friends. Like you said, with the whole magnet thing, I thought we were starting to stick, and then it turns out that when it’s a decision between forcing me to lose this stupid bet and showing me a tiny shred of decency after a mistake, she’d rather win the bet.” Melody whistled, but didn’t respond right away, busy chewing. Pearce gave her a slightly pleading look, hoping for validation of his feelings, but she didn’t give in until she’d swallowed–not because she needed to think about her opinion, she just didn’t like talking with her mouth full. “So what’ve you been doing?” she asked. “Since Monday.” “Treading water,” he admitted. “Or, not treading, I’ve been doing my job like a champ. She’s not going to catch me on any more rule breaks, not ever–I can’t give her more excuses to stab me in the back. I’m keeping her at an arm's length, not getting close again, because otherwise it’s like trying to hug sandpaper.” “Right.” Melody frowned to one side. “Look, you want my advice? Forfeit. Give up, walk away, let her have her internal victory, and then once it’s over, I’ll tell her to stop talking about it. Only way to get this over is to rip the band aid off once and for all.” “I can’t do that,” Pearce said. “Even if she’s not saying it out loud, it won’t feel like walking away, it’ll feel like losing.” Shrugging, Melody said, “Okay, whatever. Keep wiping her ass, if you want. But you seem miserable right now. You’re trying to stay emotionally distant from a person you interact with like fifty times a day. That’s not going to change unless you change it. Attachment sucks, so just walk away.” Pearce sighed, set down his beer, and turned back to the dishes. “Thanks, Mels.” “Welcome,” she said. “Anytime.” … Skip “Yes, yes, yes–” Skip’s smile spread across their face, pleasure building into a total climactic explosion, vibration pulsing up from their fingertips as their favorite toy seemed to celebrate with them. The haptic controllers on their Nintendo switch really helped with immersion–and they’d just achieved a new highscore, to boot! Removing their earbuds, they– Sob. (Oh no.) Grace was crying, and they’d be an awful friend if they didn’t go talk to her and see what was wrong. Or, well. Skip knew what was wrong. They needed to go talk to her anyways, and ask, and be told some half-truths from their friend, otherwise Skip’s conscience would eat away at them for a whole lot longer than the evening. Aside from their conscience, though, it was the right thing to do–even if Grace wouldn’t learn much from the conversation. Maybe. And if not today, someday–she was thickheaded when it came to emotions, but enough repetition would get to her eventually, and until then, well… Skip would just keep trying. Rolling out of bed, they fumbled for their cell phone, turned on the flashlight, and walked to their door. With blackout curtains, it didn’t matter if it was the middle of the afternoon on a Sunday–it may as well have been pitch black midnight, without a flashlight, they couldn’t see a thing. Swinging their door open, they followed the sound of sobs downstairs to the couch, arms wrapped around a plush hedgehog the size of a particularly poofy pillow. She looked up at Skip’s entrance, wiping her eyes. “Sorry, I thought–I didn’t think you were home.” “I was just doing some reading,” Skip lied. (Why do I do that? She doesn’t care that I play video games.) “I’ll be quieter,” Grace sniffed. “Sorry.” “No, don’t apologize,” Skip assured her. Since Grace was laying across the couch on her back, there wasn’t any good place for them to sit, so they crossed their legs and plopped down next to her. “What’s wrong?” “It’s dumb,” Grace insisted, looking down at the hedgehog. Her expression turned just a touch embarrassed, and she tossed it to the side. It bounced off the coffee table, rolling onto the floor beside her. She winced, glanced at Skip as though to see if they’d notice, and sheepishly picked the plush back up and set it off to her side. “It’s not. You’re upset, you need to feel your feelings and process, otherwise you’re not going to feel any better,” Skip pointed out. “Just talk to me, okay?” “It’s Pearce. I messed it up, I messed it up bad, and–” swallowing, she said, “And now I can’t fix it back the way it was.” Pursing their lips, Skip said, “I don’t know if that’s true. What happened?” Staring at the ceiling, Grace took a few breaths before explaining. “He stopped caring. I asked for too much, and…” Tears started welling up. “He realized I’m too much, and…” Sobs, but good sobs. The sobs of processing, of finding herself and figuring out what she needed. Skip didn’t believe there was such a thing as bad crying, not unless you didn’t have anyone there with you to make things OK. Once the crying had lowered, Skip promised, “You’re not too much.” Grace took her plush and squeezed it tightly, pinning the hedgehog against her as though it might try and escape. “I am to him.” “Really?” Skip asked. “Has he said that?” “Basically.” Glancing at Skip, she opened her mouth, then looked away. “Can I tell you something stupid?” Skip shrugged. “You can tell me something, I don’t believe it will be stupid.” “I named the hedgehog,” Grace said, looking at the plushie on her chest. Smiling, Skip said, “That’s not stu–” “I named him John.” Skip blinked. “John. That’s Pearce’s–” “We don’t ever call him that,” Grace shot back. “He’s just Pearce, he’s only ‘John’ when he has to sign checks, so it’s not even really like I–” “Grace,” Skip said, reaching out to touch her arm. “You need to do something. You clearly care about him, and just waiting around isn’t helping.” “I tried!” Grace said. “I talked to him–twice. He shot me down. He’s not interested; as long as he has to keep being in charge of me, keep caring for me, he’s not going to be interested.” Skip frowned. “So quit.” “And make him think I don’t care?” Grace sat up, recoiling at the idea. “That I want him to stop?” (Stop…making you wear diapers?) Skip wondered. “I don’t know what you have to do, but like… come on. Either do something or walk away. You’re not going to be happy until this is over, not if you’re constantly having to rely on a guy you’re this hung up on.” Grace wiped her eyes and shook her head. “How can I make him stay with me when he won’t even stay for more than a conversation? Literally the only time he gives me attention is when he’s changing my diapers.” “I don’t know.” Skip stood. “I hope you can figure that out.” Looking up at them, a light flickered in Grace’s eyes, and she said, “Actually…I think I might have an idea.” ... Read ahead on Patreon, and help support the author at the same time! It's a win win! https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

A nice Wholesome set of chapters. Hope you enjoy: Ch. 10 The end of the beginning or the beginning of the beginning. I awoke 2 two feelings one cold and puffy between my legs, guess I wasn't completely out of the woods yet. And 2 more curiously, warmth all over behind me. Tina had slept there after coming in to keep me company. I really don't get these people. I thought. She woke up to my stirring. It was still early, the sun was just starting to rise outside and the birds were singing. "Morning" She said sleepily. I mumbled a greeting back. Last night hadn't put me off to her just made me feel awkward about myself. "How are you feeling?" She asked as she reached down to check the obviously swollen thing. "I'm ok just worried." "What about hypnosis scares you so badly? It had to be over 2 years ago because if not I would know about it." I sighed, was I really going to share this with her? "About 5 years ago, I had just moved away from home, I had gotten a big job and was excited to move and start. Everything was going great. Money was coming in. I was living a great life. I met a girl at the bar. She was amazing, pretty and sweet and she liked me. We started dating and shortly after she dragged me to a party. It was supposed to be a make fun of Amazon's party, we all dressed as faux babies. No diapers of course but you know. She wasn't any different, she had come fully diapered and everything. We laughed and said she would get picked up on the way home if she didn't change. Anyway, We danced and drank and had a blast. But as the night went on the crowd kept getting smaller and smaller, figured they were getting tired of the scene and leaving. Well, I decided to try my luck with her, and invite her home. She said she had a better idea. I must have triggered the programming because she started acting weird and got me to start following her. We went down a hall and I heard a bunch of screaming and yelling about not wanting to be a baby. I got nervous and tried to turn her around. The programming must not have had a fail safe because she went completely blank. Flat with no emotion at all. I hid away from her and watched. As I did, an Amazon came down the hall. Yelled at her and asked where I was. She had fear in her eyes as the amazon carried her off. I waited there hiding for hours, the party had been a front for a baby traffiking ring. I listened to littles cry and scream until they were turned. Each going silent in the same way, fading out slowly and eventually turning into incoherent babbling. I had almost been caught and been nothing but a drooling mindless doll." I was shaking, and she saw it. She cooed and shushed me until I was calm. "If you watch two Amazon's get the same thing would it set your mind at ease?" I had to admit, it sounded odd that any amazon would agree to the same treatment as a little. It was intriguing, "I guess it might help." "Dear heart, I will not do anything that is not for our good. All three of us. I'm so sorry that you had to endure that. I won't let anyone do that to you either. Even if you decide to leave us." The way she phrased that last one, it didn't sound like she meant the coalition. It seemed more like she was referring to Cindy and herself. I've only known her for 4 days. How could I be this attached? "Come on, Cindy will be wanting up and you mister are in a giant squishy diaper. Let's put some underwear on today, what do you think?" That bolstered my spirit a little. I waddled over to the dresser and grabbed some underwear and some clothes. "Hop up here so I can get you cleaned up first." She patted the changing table. 10 minutes later we walked into Cindy's room, me following timidly. She was sitting in bed playing tea with her dolls. The onesie had come loose, seemingly unbeknownst to her and her sagging diaper was clearly visible. "Morning mommy! Hey, no boys allowed!" "I'm sorry I'll leave!" "Cindy be nice now. He just wanted to help say good morning." She went to the girl and put her on the changing table by means of an under arm carry, like she was a football. Cindy grunted and laughed through it all. When it came time for a diaper change I got sheepish and went to read a book. Cindy didn't seem to care at all. The day started very much the same as the day before. At least until lunch. Tina made me go to the bathroom right before we left so I wouldn't have any accidents. Then we were off to the city and offices and everywhere else. After picking up lunch for three adults. We met Cindy in the lobby of the coalition building. We went to the 3rd floor and onto a balcony, we sat and ate talking a little here and there. My nerves were on end, I was still worried. Shortly after the meal we walked back inside and Cindy said she had some work to do before she could go home, so she needed to get it done. Tina took me back in the elevator and to the second subfloor. I was looking for escape routes when Tina took my hand and reassured me. We walked 3 rooms down and into what looked like a waiting room. 4 Amazon's were in there, and my heart skipped a beat. "Tina!" One of the male Amazon's said. "Is this the new recruit we keep hearing about?" "He is, go easy Gary, the process has gone by way faster than normal, so he's a little scared." Turning to me and bending down, "nothing to be afraid of! I have been in the booth 35 times myself." He seemed to be bragging. "Anyway, Ms Tina here is going to keep you all to herself, you know? Most of us are pretty jealous. You seem like a really good little, if it was anyone but Tina I'd steal you away honestly. Always wanted a boy. In truth, with her you'll be getting the better end of that deal. She's a first rate mom and a first rate person." Who was this guy? "He leaned in but never got quieter, "in fact can I tell you a secret?" He blabbed loud enough for the whole room. "If she'd be a little less stubborn, I'd take her on a really nice date." "Gary, you wanna be smoothie, that's enough. I don't think you're helping here. In any case we are going into the booth. This guy wants to watch first." She put her hand to the back of my neck and gently urged me to a door out of the way. When we entered there were 3 others in there a little and 2 Amazon's. They only nodded at our entry and kept working. On the far wall was a gallery window to a single chair with what looked like a camera attached to the screen. There was a light on what looked to be a monitor inside the room with us. On looking better it was a word that said 'execute.' There wasn't really much else. Tina flatly explained, "hypnosis tech has advanced really far with bad intentions, but we can use it for good now as well." "I want you to read the contract before we begin," she said, pulling a single sheet of paper out. It only had 4 sentences on it. I agree to be hypnotized into never speaking of the coalition to anyone I do not know is a part of the coalition. I will be hypnotized into the complete knowledge of the coalition. I agree to hypnosis that will not in any way alter my perception of reality. I am of sound mind and under no duress upon signing this, or the hypnosis will not function. That was it, no more no less. Inside the other room an Amazon I recognized from the other room walked in and sat in the chair. An attendant from our side of the window walked over and hit a button, the screen flashed twice and the amazon's body relaxed, all except their eyes, which were glued to the screen. Then she woke up and walked out of the room. The next amazon came in, sat down and repeated the process. "That's it?" I exclaimed, a little miffed there wasn't more to it. "Haha, so you're saying it's ok?" Tina asked. I wasn't really sure to be honest. I was expecting cartoons and diapers and people crapping themselves, but nothing happened. We left the booth and into the waiting room where all four amazons were again. "Nothing to it, champ!!" Gary exclaimed. "You got the stones to do it?" It felt like a pep talk from hell. I realized though that I was. So I solemnly nodded my head. Tina reached down and hugged me, she had the biggest smile I had ever seen on her. Gently she asked, "are you really ready?" I decided I was and put the paper on an end table, using the pen there I signed it. If I lost my mind at least I wouldn't know it. "I'll be with you the whole time." Tina promised and we walked in and sat down, me resting back on her chest, it felt like home. She grabbed my hand, and the screen flashed and my eyes reacted looking up. And then Tina said we were done. Nothing had happened though. I was confused but I wasn't dumb enough to argue. Leaving the room, the other 4 were still waiting. Gary, ofcourse, gave away the surprise. "Party time! Welcome to the family!" Tina responded by smacking his shoulder, "can you go 5 minutes without blabbing something? This is why we have to have hypnosis." The last was aimed at me. Everyone seemed so happy, and it was catching, I felt the excitement too. We left the room together and down a different hall. We took 2 turns and opened a double door. Inside the sound of applause exploded out. There was a sign hanging from the ceiling that said 'welcome family,' turns out there really was a party. I tried to hide behind Tina but she pushed me in, talk about betrayal. Cindy and the waitress from the bakery were waiting for me. Both dressed as little girls, neither dress hiding their obvious diapers. Cindy had a box of nice candies for me, and the waitress who introduced herself as Carrie had some of her cookies. Tina bent down, "it's tradition that the initiated get gifts from the people they know in the coalition. I have one for you too." She pulled a small bottle around in front of me, it read B.A.S.S. and the pill was yellow. "I actually have 2 but this is the one my heart says it's time for. I'll explain later, but for now, it's time for a party!" With the hypnosis I had been given a full history of the organization. I now knew how it had started as a few amazons that really wanted babies but couldn't bear destroying a little to get it, they had maneuvered and even blackmailed to get what they wanted. Tina had been there from the start. She was one of the most influential members. No wonder no one argued with her and people feared her. My mouth watered. The idea of another pill made me nervous but also excited. The green ones still made my body tremble, the blue one made me want to run and hide. But this one was yellow. Tina got Swept up in congratulations on another fine job and questions of how she did it? I wasn't given much time to think about it, Carrie and Cindy dragged me to the littles table where we had all sorts of cakes and good looking food to pig out on, and we all did. I noticed quickly while I wasn't the only one dressed as an adult, I was the only one not wearing a diaper. It was A party, we danced, sang and played, I even got to dance with Cindy. Who claimed to enjoy it profusely. After a while, I was sitting surrounded by other littles all talking at me when Tina bent down behind me. "The doctor wants to see us now. Can I carry you? It'll be faster getting out of here." I nodded my approval. Scooping me up, she held me on her hip expertly and we left quickly. She was in a hurry, walking fast and only nodding at people who talked to her. "Cindy is going to stay with Carrie tonight." She said it like I should be expecting something but it didn't click with me. I was carried the distance to the clinic quickly, no short legs to have to wait on made the trip faster. I was still on quite the sugar rush so I was ready to get down and move, once in a room I launched into story after story while Tina grinned and laughed through each story. Which only served to keep me going until the doctor walked in. "Are we being impatient, Tina?" "Yes" She responded flatly, and the doctor didn't argue. "Hello young man, do you remember me?" I nodded from behind Tina. "You can come out, I just want to see how well you are healing." I moved slowly, and he waited patiently. After a few pokes prods and tests, scans and the such he stood up and looked at Tina. "I think it'll be fine, but I'd like you to wait, it could be CLOC if you don't." Tina responded with a smile and a "I think it's inevitable that that will happen. I can't give up now." "Then it's in your hands, Tina. I don't think it'll do any damage but there is a slight chance." Tina paused, "I understand." With that we went out and left the coalition headquarters. We headed to Tina's home, I found myself thinking about why Cindy was going to sleep at a friend's. I asked Tina what CLOC meant. "It's just fancy doctor talk, but we can talk about it later." She seemed distracted. She wanted something. It reminded me of my desire for the pills. It was incessant but only when I knew it was coming. "Tina, are you ok?" She almost choked. "Dear heart, I'm perfectly fine. I have wanted something for several months and it seems close and it has made me want to hurry. I'm sorry if I made you worry in the midst of it." I couldn't wait to ask, "can I know what it is?" "Remember there are 4 pills," she began, " the first 2 you've seen, green and blue, are purely for pleasure. Nothing more, the other 2 have other effects. My gift to you is the yellow pill, more commonly called the bond pill." I went on alert again, she continued unaware of my concern, "the pill doesn't alter your thoughts or even have a permanent effect. Instead it amplifies what already exists. It makes your emotions for someone ten times more than they had ever been. If you hate them, then you will likely try to kill them. If you love them then you'd die for them. If you're indifferent then they would literally mean nothing to you. It is also the only one with a companion pill. They are meant to be taken in pairs. I will take the other." My mind reeled, what was she saying? She said it would make me love her but not, but if I did I would love her a thousand times more. "So you're going to make me love you?" "No no, my dear heart. I want to show you how much I love you. As well it'll show you how much you do or do not love me. Usually, this is months into a relationship, but circumstances and the fact I want to keep you all to myself have sped up the game a bit." "I'll do it," she slumped a bit in relief, I was curious myself. Now that I knew what she was planning, I wasn't really worried she'd hurt me, but I was curious at how this would affect us both. What if we didn't really have that mother son bond as strong as we thought? The car was nearing the house, my heart pounded. I grabbed Tina's hand, I wanted her touch, she squeezed my hand in return. ___________________ Once again I was back on the changing table, naked head to toe this time. The pill sat over my head and its partner next to it. It was similar in size but a different shape, more oblong. The diaper change was different this time, slower less rushed, it seemed she wanted to savor the moment. The oil and powder, she made small talk and booped my nose. Poked my belly button and genuinely made me feel like a kid again. I giggled the whole time, eventually, I realized she was stalling not savoring. I hoped she wasn't nervous. She had put an insert in the diaper which served to make it thick enough I could not walk, it was either waddling horribly or crawling. Apparently, I was going to need it. If this went really well it would be hard to change me, she had said. I made a complaint about it, only to be ignored. While I was only diapered, she had removed her shirt. Sitting in front of the giant she opened both pills, "are you ready?" She asked. "So, what happens when, you know, it takes effect?" Tina responded, "it won't be a trance like the others have been, instead it'll be a mental enhancement. You'll seem more focused on me and me on you. That's why Cindy is spending the night elsewhere. It'll be hard for us to focus on anything else." I hesitated, "how long are the side effects? "The effects will likely last most of the night. The diapers will be needed for a couple days." I shuddered, this might be worth it. On the other hand, we may try to kill each other. She would definitely win, but I really doubted that outcome. She took my head in her hand and raised my chin to look her in the eye, "are you ready?" How could I say no. I nodded and swallowed, I felt a hand go down the back of my diaper and something slimy went in my rear. She then immediately took her pill. "Let's toss the dice my dear heart." My last clear moment of thought was "I really like it when she calls me that…" Ch. 11 Bonds of steel or not even Hercules could break that. It was like a flower opening. My understanding of Tina was completely wrong. I could feel her heart. It was like we had been linked. Like a shining star that represented her emotions toward me erupted in front of me. It was glorious. I had never known anyone could care for me like that. My eyes began to water up. I burst into sobs, what teen girls call ugly crying. I couldn't believe I had treated her so badly, her intentions could only be pure with that emotion. How could I be so mean? "I'm sorry" I choked out. I was in her arms, my skin to hers. My head resting on her chest, her heart was beating so perfectly. I didn't even remember her picking me up. She bounced and shushed my crying, all while crying herself. "I'm so sorry." I choked out again. "No baby, it's ok, I see now. It's ok. Shhhh, you are mine now, shhhhh, I won't ever let go, shhhhhh shhhhh." I calmed a little, enough to realize for the first time Tina was becoming my world. My emotions were there too. They weren't nearly as prominent but they were there. I couldn't let her go. My arms wrapped around her neck. I was never going to let go. She was patting my bottom and swishing me. Cooing and shushing my tears. I could do nothing for hers. ___________________ It had been like a dream. His skin to hers, she had learned that contact helped. He was holding her neck. She had braced for there to be almost nothing there, for even a little bit of indifference, but this she couldn't have expected. Cindy had loved her but not nearly as much as she had loved Cindy. This was nothing like that. This was indescribable. The pill forced the body to create thousands of times its usual pheromone output. Causing those near to experience the emotions you were outputting. Then it used the adrenal system to amplify what you felt, increasing brain processing in the area of emotion and a host of other things. The effects created a wonderment of emotions and effectively caused you to know all there was to know about what could not be said between 2 individuals. Being more experienced with the pill she could sense it all. Cindy's pain had been prominent and hard to bear, but this poor thing's fear was so overwhelming, no little body should be able to hold something so big. It had utterly shocked her. Something had happened though. His emotions for her were there, but his fear had almost drowned them. Miraculously though his fear had melted to almost unrecognizable, but his love had grown to replace his fear. She had had to sit down. It had made her knees weak. How could that happen? Her only guess was that he saw what she was and all those worries and doubts were erased. Without them to hold him back his heart opened to her. It felt like a miracle. Tina had cried tears of joy. She was glad she had both drank and made him drink water, they were both crying heavily. It had been almost an hour already and neither showed signs of stopping. This poor boy, her poor baby boy. He was hers as surely as the sun rose and set. Surely as she lived and breathed. ________________ My senses started to calm from the overload. I wasn't sure how long it had been, but the sun had set before I opened my eyes. My eyes were still bleary and watery but at least the sobbing had stopped. Never had I been so happy and sad at the same time. Tina… No I wouldn't call her that again Mommy Mommy had sat down and held me, her eyes were red too. She'd cried as well. "M.. mo.." "It's ok, my baby." "Mmm.. mommy?" She pulled me back close and I could feel her warmth grow. "I have food coming, my dear heart. Are you hungry?" I nodded my agreement against her chest. I didn't want to leave her glorious smell or miss hearing that heartbeat. What was this? She had said it amplified what was there. It made you realize what you already had for another. "Mommy, can… can I.." She tried to encourage me,"it's ok dear heart, you can say whatever it is?" Her voice had grown even more soft and loving. "Can I say I love you?" Taken back, mommy's eyes began to water again, but I could feel the joy so I didn't fear I had screwed up. "Oh dear heart yes you can, you never need permission for that." "I love you" She replied with "and I love you more." ______________________ He could make her smile in the darkest night, in the rain, surrounded by wolves. Their stomachs were growling, she wished that the delivery bot would move faster. Something so dumb might ruin this moment. She'd deserve it for not being patient. They needed a distraction. Clean up a bit and get some clothes on, she thought. She carried him without asking to the bathroom where she plopped his padded rear on the counter and gently wiped his face, cleaning his snotty nose, and cleaning his eyes up. Then she let him do her face. It had made them both laugh. The food alert came about 3 minutes before they were done, so she carried the baby to get the food and get set up. She had pulled out the high chair because she wanted to be closer to him than a booster would allow. Putting him there, she prepared the food. Soon they had eaten. She had fed him most of it, which he had seriously enjoyed. He had become so carefree at that moment. Not over thinking it all, he had laughed when she had tapped his nose with the spoon getting pudding all over it. In the end he may have been wearing more than he ate. Mostly because of his shenanigans rather than babyish eating. She bathed him afterwards. They played some simple games, she tickled him until he begged her to stop, read books with his head on her chest, cuddled and watched cartoons. As the effects were beginning to wind down, she didn't want to miss the opportunity, so she sat down with him and breastfed him. Neither talked during the prep, both knew what was happening and both were excitedly expectant. The moment would go down for both of them as one of the best moments in their lives. Perfectly in sync and able to understand each other's desires for just a few more minutes, he suckled and she held him. In the end he fell asleep again, almost as if drugged. He was awake then he was asleep. He fell off the latch even though his mouth kept working at it. She wiped the drool from his lip and placed him in bed as the last of his emotions drained out. She couldn't help but think, "what would she call him when he had been officially adopted?" __________________ I was certain when she offered the third contract to me I would say yes. Historically, it had weeded out more people than anything else. I couldn't imagine life without mommy. How could I turn her down after tonight? She was breastfeeding me now, I was staring into her eyes. I could feel the full effects of the pill dwindling. I could tell I was tired, my body done. At Least I was warm, she smiled at me and that was the last thing I remembered as I drifted off to blissful sleep. It had been a good night, but all good and bad things came to an end.

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.

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...

Chapter 38: Burning “WOW, THAT ONE is actually pretty tasty,” I found myself saying as I finally felt my body warm up with something I considered moderately spicy! There was a feeling of that special tingle of the front of the tongue burning first that signaled life to me. A moment later, I appreciated it as the burn moved further toward the back of the palate and stayed a constant burn, reminding me that I was alive. On the downside, I felt incredibly bloated from eating what was probably like a pack of corn tortillas for tacos back home! Still, there was no need to tap out on the milk. The same couldn’t be said of Marla. Tears streamed down her face, and snot was flowing from her nose. Her face looked almost purple with how red it was, and for a moment, I worried she was having an allergic reaction. You could see an intense effort to hold everything in, but suddenly, she choked out a “Damnit, no!!!!!” But reached for the milk in the glass and chugged it. It clearly wasn’t enough from the look on her face, just a slight reduction, and it hit her again. Marla desperately eyed the baby bottle, which the announcer handed her, “It’s okay, baby, nurse your baba. It’ll help!” Everyone laughed at her, and she stood up angrily. “This was rigged; obviously, they didn’t eat the same thing!!!!!” Her eyes and nose ran, and her face scrunched up from the pain. She looked like an overgrown toddler having a tantrum to me! “Actually, he did eat the same things,” The MC said, “we had a conversation in advance with the officials if we shouldn’t play this up, but we decided to keep it fair. This Little had the exact same amount – we even weighed the chips with and without the sauce, for fairness’s sake. Really Con here had even more than you if you consider the size difference between the two of you.” “This is bullshit!” she screamed as she unscrewed the bottle top and chugged the milk inside. She threw the nipple from the bottle off to the side, and I watched it hit a boy who was laughing hysterically. Rather than being angry, he laughed harder and waved it at her, “Baby, you dropped something!” She angrily stormed off after getting her gift cards but, for some reason, refused her baby bottle. “You want it as a memento?” Mackenzie asked me. I shook my head, “No, thank you, Miss Mackenzie.” “Well, it’s getting late, little one; we should get you back to the nest now!” “Great job Connor,” Beth and Cassie took turns saying as they came by after I took my winnings. “Thanks!” I said. “I need to get this Little back to the nest; we’ll let him hang out with you all tomorrow,” Mackenzie said as she carried me away. “Can we grab a bottle of water or something?” I asked. “My mouth is so dry right now.” “Should have taken the baby bottle?” She joked as she tickled my side. “I think we can afford that. I made over a thousand dollars off of you tonight!” “Happy to help,” I said. “I get to keep my part of things, right?” “Yes, you get to keep those,” she laughed. “I think you more than earned them!” After stopping at a vending machine for a water bottle, I guzzled it while she carried me back to the nest. I’d needed to go to the bathroom back at the nest, so she pulled the diaper off and re-diapered me before she redressed me in a pair of pajamas. As much fun as I had that night, I worried that every single one of the guys in my nest was completely out for the count as I was placed in my pod. None of them stirred with lights coming on or noise being made. I sleepily wondered about that even as I relived the great evening in my mind. I WOKE UP suddenly, and it took a moment to figure out why. That confusion passed quickly, though, and I realized my bowels were clinching like they were being squeezed with a vice! I could feel the feeling of diarrhea imminent and moved to try and run to the bathroom, but I quickly remembered I was locked inside the pod!!!!! I looked out, saw the darkened room, and stared at the shut door to Mackenzie’s apartment. I clenched and tried to force myself to go back to sleep. ‘No!!! I don’t want to poop myself!!!’ I thought. A massive cramp passed through my bowels, forcing me to place my hands on my stomach in agony. I knew I didn’t have long before my body would push out the contents, no matter what! I looked at the emergency button on the pod and figured this was probably not one she would count as valid. ‘If I don’t try it though, and I do have an accident, then they’ll pen that on me too?’ I just decided to push the button right as my bowels could no longer hold! Liquid mush spewed into the diaper, making me wince from the disgusting feeling. A moment later, I realized it was even worse as it physically felt like it was burning my skin!!!!! ‘The peppers?’ I wondered. They weren’t that spicy to me going down, but they certainly caused my typical issues from back home. ‘Normally, I can get to a bathroom, though!’ A red light lit up on the button, but no sound went off. I could feel another cramp coming on, and I could tell the diaper was not containing the mess! I groaned as my stomach seemed just to pump mush into my diaper over and over again! The pain from the burning just seemed to intensify, even as my body continued evacuating my bowels! I stayed as still as I could when the cramps finally started to end several minutes later, but I could feel the liquid run out the bottoms of my legs and up my back!!! It was a horrible feeling from the first day, but times a million! I pressed the button again. I sat and watched her door. I pressed the button again and held it for a minute this time. Still no movement at the door. I could feel the muck seeping into the pajamas, sticking the fabric to my skin. I stared at the door and decided to press the button one more time. Finally, there was movement! Mackenzie looked bedraggled in pajamas, her hair tied in a sleep braid like my sisters wore most nights. She looked around to determine which of the Littles had rudely interrupted her sleep. Her eyes were on my pod, and I hoped I wouldn’t get in trouble for waking her up! I felt my nerves tingling, fearing that this wouldn’t be an emergency, but I didn’t care about the consequences! I just wanted out of the mess! I was terrified to move then and afraid the mush would leak out of the blanket sleeper next and soak the sheets. She pressed the button to lower the front of the pod and said, “Connor, why in the world are you wak…?!?” She sounded angry at first. A sniff of her nose and a glance with her eyes meant she had a pretty good guess. “I thought I told you not to wake me up because you used your diaper?” “It’s leaked everywhere,” I told her. “Please change me?” I thought for a moment she was going to close the pod back up and leave me there, but she used her huge hands to grab me under my arms and carried me at arm’s length over to the changing table. I let her push me down, and she put on a pair of gloves before starting to unzip the sleeper. She made it not even to my belly button, though, and zipped me back up! “Wait, please change me?” I begged. “Sweetie, don’t worry, I’m going to change you. But we’re going to do this where I have a tub. This may be the worst blowout I’ve ever seen!” She wrinkled her nose at that but grabbed a package of wipes and another diaper and carried me to the bathroom. I remembered her pointing out the bathtubs when we first arrived, but I hadn’t seen anyone use one yet. “Stay there just a second,” she told me when she placed me in an empty tub. I watched her leave the room and return with two plastic sacks and an extra pair of gloves. She pushed me on my back in the large tub and said, “Okay, let’s open up this mess…” I stayed absolutely still as she unzipped the zipper from my neck all the way to my left foot. I could feel the poop making the fabric stick to me like glue, and I truly wanted to cry from embarrassment right then! The burning was continuing, and I whimpered. “Wow, Sweetie, you did a number on that diaper!” “Please just get it off of me,” I choked back a sob, “It’s burning a lot more now than it did going down!” She looked slightly surprised but gently pulled my arms free of the fabric, then pulled it all down past my right leg after lifting my butt in the air. I could see her gloved hand was already covered in brown liquid then. “Just a moment, and we’ll get to the diaper….” She told me, “It’s a good thing these pajamas are waterproof, so hopefully, nothing made it into your cri… pod.” ‘She thinks they’re cribs too…?’ I thought. I watched her carefully fold the pajamas and put them in a clear trash bag before setting them aside. She reached down, pulled at the diaper tapes, lifted my legs, and awkwardly folded the useless garment. Her face rarely looked offended by any of the other guy’s diapers. Still, clearly, this one was special, even by her experiences. As she balled it up and placed it inside another sack, I sat up and saw that from above my belly button, down to my knees, was brown with runny poop. The capsaicin from the peppers seemed to have concentrated itself down into the poop, and every bit of skin in contact was red with where it burned my skin!!! I was getting over my embarrassment of being naked before her for diaper changes. Still, right then, I just wanted to blend into the background and run away! Mackenzie tied off the bag she’d placed the diaper in before switching her gloves to the new ones, “We’re going to use this sprayer to get most of it, and then I’ll give you a quick bath Con.” I nodded. The tall woman pressed the temperature numbers and tested a sprayer attached to the tub’s side before spraying me down. The brown goop inched down the drain and showed a disgusting brown trail. Thankfully, as she did so, the burning sensation passed as well, even though I could see the skin was severely irritated behind it, like a bad all-day sunburn. “Stand up; let’s finish rinsing you,” she told me. I did as she told me and stood there, spraying me from all directions until the water ran clear. “I just realized I didn’t bring any soap in here…” She said tiredly. “Here, let’s just go to my bathroom…” Without warning, she pulled a towel out and wrapped me in it. Suddenly putting me on her hip, she reached down and grabbed the soiled diaper and clothes bags and deposited them in chutes by the changing table. Carrying me inside her apartment, I saw a tub as large as the one at my grandparents’ house. I watched her pour some bubble bath and water into the tub, letting it get up to my belly button before dunking me in. “Sorry, no time to play today,” she told me as she poured shower gel on a sponge and washed me with florally scented soap. It felt good as she washed me, even as it was morbidly embarrassing. “Thank you,” I told her quietly. “Not done yet, apparently,” she said with a shake. “Huh?” I asked. “How in the world did it end up in your hair?!?” I blushed, “No idea! I’ve never had diarrhea like this!” “No one has,” she muttered, “I can’t believe that could be caused without a laxative.” “You don’t think they put one in my sauces, do you?” She looked at me, suddenly perplexed, “I doubt it…?” A shrug of her shoulders, “Let’s worry about it tomorrow; close your eyes,” she told me. I sat still while she sprayed my hair with a removable shower sprayer, then massaged shampoo and then conditioner into my hair. When she was done, she rinsed my hair out and pulled me out of the tub to dry me. “I really don’t want to send you to bed with wet hair,” she told me. I just sleepily shrugged, “What time is it anyway?” She looked at her wrist, “Two in the morning. I hope you don’t mind if I say we’re skipping your swim today?” I hated that but nodded, “Would you please wake me up earlier, though still? I have some more studying I’d like to do before class?” “I don’t know, it might do you good to sleep longer. We were already out after your bedtime today, Sweetie.” “Please?” I said, looking up at her. She sighed, “Okay, let’s take care of this hair, though.” Mackenzie looked about to just wrap me in the towel but thought better of it. “We should probably put you back in a diaper first!” Her words made me realize, though, that another eruption was possible! “Can I use the potty first?” She sighed but picked me up and sat my naked form on her toilet, carefully supporting me. My body wasted no time spewing some additional chunks and liquid into the bowel. “Done?” She asked. I nodded, “Do you have any medicine for diarrhea I can take?” “Sorry, Sweetie, nothing for your size. You need an infant’s dose, and I don’t think I can even get that in the store room here.” Mackenzie carried me back to the nest room, “I want to get you in a diaper with some rash cream, and then we’ll dry your hair. You need to get some sleep.” I sighed but sat gratefully as although the rash cream felt sticky and weird, the second she pressed it to my skin, I felt relief from what I decided was definitely still inflamed. She dressed me in another sleeper, carried me back to her apartment, and sat me on the bathroom counter. I sat still while she used her jet engine on my hair and brushed through it. When she was done, I was practically falling asleep as she re-braided it into a loose braid down to my shoulders and said, “Okay, now that you’ve woken us both up, let’s get you back to bed, and hopefully we can both make it through the morning. I also think we’re going to have to rethink any future challenges. That was pretty explosive!” She tickled me, waking me up just slightly as my frown raised a small amount. “This is going on my chart still, though, isn’t it?” I asked nervously. “It certainly should,” she told me. She looked thoughtfully at me and then lightly tickled my stomach without warning. “Given that I have some responsibility for it, I’ll leave it off if you’re clean and dry in the morning.” I smiled at that, “Thanks…” I wanted to ask her why she was being so nice to me, but the transparent wall of my ‘pod’ was raised before I could do so. We made eye contact for a moment, then she turned back to her apartment door and closed it behind her. I sniffed and was annoyed that you could still smell my mess somewhat. I groaned as I suddenly remembered I had the necklace underneath my pod on my desk that I could have used. With a sigh, I thought, ‘At least they have those waterproof pajamas; I had no idea they would contain anything!’ I sleepily thought as I closed my eyes and was out. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think by pressing that Like Button and leaving me a comment!

Hi there! I'm a new professional Mommy in East Orlando and I'm just letting all of my friends here know that Mommy just released a website now to help all her babies find her!

Found a couple of these at the thrift store and wanted to know what I'm working with. Sorry if this is posted in the wrong place.

People mature at different rates so I'm sure it must happen occasionally.

Never had a babysitter. We where rather free range raised kids.

No, but one of my Daddies that I have is 8 years younger than me. So it's kind of weird, him being my Daddy and all, but I don't mind.♥️😊 I love him.♥️🤗😍

Here you go:

http://www.dailydiapers.com 22 new Photos added 3 new Stories added 8 new Amazon ABDL ebooks featured 56 new Forum members - Now 54,923 friends! 71 people joined the All-New DiaperMates ABDL Personals. Now 4,489 members! Follow us on instagram

It's fun and addicting at the same time. Happy adventures.

Pampers, Huggies, and Luvs all did gender diapers in the 80s and early 90s. Here is the Pampers and my profile pic is Huggies.

Saw this thread, or another where the wand gets rave reviews, and thought I need to see for myself. So bought one, it arrives, but I’d already had sex with my wife. Thought there was no way today, but she goes to run errands, and I thought I’ll just see what it feels like. So I get diapered, and thought I’d be doing good to just get an erection. Honestly, that thing is amazing! Felt great and I swelled up immediately. After all of two minutes, I had no doubt I would eventually cum, which I did, in about five or so. The wand is great, too, because it works from the outside, whereas your hand probably needs inside for best results. Nothing wrong with a hand in there, it’s just easier and feels more babyish to keep it out, which now I can! Can’t wait for next time!

Firstly first: Thank you for the positive feedback! It (and the prize money) are what drive me! And, yes, there is absolutely more, being written as we speak. For anyone wondering about a timeline the Contest closes August 7th, so here's the sketch: July 30th (Sunday) - Second Course July 31st (Monday) - Busy, so no chapter / writing August 1-2 - Third Course August 3-4 - Fourth Course August 5-6 - Fifth Course August 7th - Finale? I'm not committing to six chapters, but that's roughly the plan. We'll see if I can stick to it.

There's a brand new chapter, after years of letting this story sleeping! Chapter 6: Back to Dreamland I am in the darkness. I can’t see anything. I can barely even feel myself, it’s like I’m floating in an ocean of void. From there, I can hear a voice, distant and echoing. I recognize it as my mother’s voice. She sounds upset. Very upset. She’s screaming. “She’s our daughter Gérard! We can’t abandon her, what are you even talking about? I’m appalled you’d even suggest it!”. I feel a chill go through my body. I hear my dad’s voice answering. His voice is booming and terrible. “This… is not our daughter. It might have been our daughter one day, but our daughter is dead!” The word dead hits me like a knife in the chest. What… are they talking about? Dead? Am I dead? What is going on? My dad continues, his screaming voice just as powerful and terrifying. “She died in that fucking pool Julia! You have to get that in your head! Léa is no more! You’ve been tending to this… to this vegetable for months now! What good is that doing you? That’s all you’ve been doing! You don’t work anymore! You don’t cook anymore! You don’t even take care of Mathieu… Do you know how hard it’s been for him?” This time I can hear my dad’s voice choking on sobs. “Julia, you have a family to care for and all you do is take care of this… thing that just eats and crap without giving us anything back in return!” The chill that had filled me has now turned to ice. A vegetable? What is even going on? Why are they talking about me this way? I feel myself filled with complete horror as the argument keeps going. I can hear my mom’s voice, distorted with a rage I’ve never heard in her. “Take… that… back… Gérard. You don’t mean that, you can’t possibly mean that. She is our daughter. Don’t you ever talk about our daughter that way you… monster.” My dad answers, his voice still roaring in my ears. “Oh I’m a monster now? I’m a monster for taking care of every fucking meal because you won’t do it? I’m a monster for being the sole breadwinner of this house? I’m a monster for taking Mathieu to practice? I’m a monster for telling him that his mom won’t be there because she has to stay home to watch the vegetable that used to be his sister? I’m a monster for telling him that we still care about him even though he’s now second place to… this? He’s ten Julia, do you think he can understand why his mom is abandoning him that way? Where were you when he scored his first goal last Saturday? He lost his big sister, for fuck’s sake, and now he’s lost his mom too! Julia, I’m not asking you to kill her, I’m asking you to bring her to a center where they’ll take care of her!” My mom then throws an agonized scream that tears my heart to pieces. “I… I can’t, Gérard. I can’t! She’s my daughter! She’s my precious baby girl… I can’t… I can’t let her go!” She’s sobbing so hard her voice is difficult to hear. For a little while, all I can hear are my mom’s sobs. When I hear my dad’s voice again, he sounds much calmer, though the sadness that pierces through it might be even worse in some ways. “Julia, I know it’s been hard for you. But this center isn’t the end. You’ve heard the doctors. Léa is not going to wake up, so we have to think about the future. Our future. You have to take care of yourself, to take care of your own family.” My mom’s voice has also calmed down when she speaks. “A part of me knows that you’re right. I know it’s not reasonable for me to take care of her 24/7 like I do but… but whenever I think about letting her go, all I can imagine is… What if she dies? What if my baby girl dies and she’s… and she’s all alone? What if she dies and her mama isn’t there?” She starts sobbing again. My dad sighs very hard and answers her after letting her sob for a time: “She’ll be in a nice place, Julia. I’ve spoken with Mrs Gratton, the owner, and her place is solid. She’s a doctor herself, and has been doing this for decades. It’s small, they have something like fifteen beds at most and their staff is there 24/7. I’ve seen the place. It's clean and warm and welcoming. Léa would be well taken care of. And they’re willing to keep her until she… To keep her as long as she needs it. It’s expensive, but you know money isn’t an issue for me. Please, Julia, would you at least visit the place with me? You deserve better than a life of changing dirty diapers and cleaning up feeding tubes, and your family needs you.” A long silence follows. My mom’s voice sounds defeated when she speaks: “I’ll… I’ll think about it. For Mathieu. I know I haven’t been a good mom to him since Léa’s accident. I… I’m sorry, Gérard. I know I’m not rational about this. I know she won’t wake up, I just… I just want to be there for her, do you understand? I’m still her mother. It still means a lot to me.” My dad’s voice sounds hopeful as he answers: “You’ll still be her mother. You can visit as much as you want. It’s only a 30 minutes drive from here. And then you can have real moments with her, and leave all the chores to the staff.” After some silence, my mom answers once again: “I’ll think about it. That’s all I can promise you.” My dad’s voice echoes in the void I’m floating in as he answers: “That’s all I’m asking you right now.” As the last echoes of my dad’s voice, I feel void I’m in starting to swirl. I feel myself spinning around as I’m floating upward, away from the void and away from that terrifying conversation I just heard. I slowly become aware that I am in my bed, and that this was a dream. Even now it’s starting to fade, but I have a feeling this was more than just a dream. This felt like a memory, like something that really happened. I remember the saying that people in a coma can hear what you’re saying. It would seem that in that moment, I was aware somehow, as they were discussing my fate. My father’s terrible words still ring in my mind. A vegetable. Already dead. Never waking up. I suppose he wasn’t quite wrong. It is very unlikely to wake up from a coma. My situation is very unusual. I’m reminded of how awkward my dad was when he first saw me. He thought I was dead, and now here I am. Not quite myself, mind you, actually a whole lot less than whatever I might have been, and will very likely never be all that much better. But still me, looking back at him when he must have thought it would never happen again. As the specifics of the dream fade away, I think of their discussion about Mathieu. My poor brother. I’ve seen my dad a few times since waking up, but Mathieu never came back. And I guess I can understand why. My reaction must have been traumatizing to him. Have I really been gone this long? I feel tears in my eyes as I think about all the time that has been taken away from me. I feel lost, and sad. My bedroom is darkened, it must still be nighttime. I fall back asleep wishing my mom was with me. My sweet mama who fought so hard to be by my side.

@DiaperboyEddie12 many years ago I went to an Amway recruitment seminar. The senior people running it showed up in their fancy $$$$$ motorhome dressed to the nines. They basically said that any person there could do the same as they did. I couldn't argue with that assertion. When it got down to one on one recruitment I suspect I was the only person in attendance that had a viable argument for why I was not going to join the Amway family. Most people that don't want to join use a list of standard reasons for not wanting to join up like I don't have the time, I don't have enough room, I have a full time job etc. Amway has answers for all these reasons and more. The senior people in the organization are people that worked their way up from the bottom and have heard every excuse in the book and are well trained and experience to counter any excuse. I didn't use an excuse. I told them I wasn't interested in the opportunity. When asked why I told them I knew without doubt that I could achieve success with Amway but I wasn't interested in success. I told them my free time had more value to me than any cash I would earn through spending all my waking time working the buisness. They were speechless lol. The truth I believe is that it can work but the cost is much too high for me personally. I don't regret my decision in the least. Good luck to you in whatever decision you come to in this matter. Hugs, Freta

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!

Those are Huggies from probably the mid 80s. Probably size 1 or 2.

I suppose as long as the author is still active on the site...I'll bump as well.

BTW- my chapter titles have no meaning A Wet diaper It’s a lot harder to start to pee when you think you should only pee in the toilet. I had to think about standing in front of a toilet, and really concentrate, but I managed to pee in the diaper. I rolled over and fell back asleep. I was already awake when Aunt Amanda came into the nursery. I let her discover my wet diaper when she checked. In my mind, it sounded more believable if I didn’t know I was wet. She checked Scott first, and it wasn’t a surprise that he wet his diaper. Scott always woke up with a wet diaper and my aunt just said, “You’re wet again, but that’s why you need diapers. We’ll change it after breakfast.” She came to me and gently tapped, “Are you awake?” I nodded and she replied, “Let’s see how you did last night.” She looked surprised when she felt my diaper. I hadn’t wet my diaper all week, so I’m sure she expected me to be dry. “Uh-oh, it looks like you wet your diaper. I guess it’s a good thing you wore one last night.” I pretended to look disappointed, but in reality, I loved it. Aunt Amanda hugged me and said, “It’s ok, honey. Sometimes these things happen. Let’s have some breakfast, and then we will take care of your wet diaper. Do you want to go pee-pee in the potty?” I shook my head, even though I needed to pee. It wasn’t urgent because I peed two more times that night. I asked, “Do I have to wear Pull-ups, or a diaper today?” Aunt Amanda shook her head and said, “No, honey you’ve shown me that you are potty trained during the day, it just doesn’t look like you’re ready for a big boy bed. I think you’ll get there, but you have to sleep in here until you do.” I guess I was supposed to be upset about that, but I meekly accepted my fate. My aunt pulled a second highchair from the closet and brought it to the table. I asked, “Do I have to sit in that?” My aunt answered calmly and matter-of-factly, “Yes, little kids sit in highchairs.” It made no sense, but a part of me was curious about what baby treatment was like. I complained, “I’m not a little kid.” It wasn’t a strong protest; I was genuinely confused. This was the first time she made me sit in a highchair. Aunt Amanda asked, “Is your diaper wet?” I had to admit the truth and nodded. She said, “Ok then, hop up. In my house, little kids who wear diapers have to sit in a highchair.” Debbie saw me sitting in the highchair and asked, “Why is Tommy in a highchair?” “His diaper is wet, and that means he eats breakfast in a highchair.” As if that was completely normal, Debbie responded, “Oh, yeah.” It sounded like this made perfect sense to her and wasn’t anything to be concerned about. She also knew enough to avoid saying anything that could be considered teasing. I know my aunt wanted to humiliate us. We wet our diapers like babies therefore we should be treated like babies. She tied a bib around my neck, cut my pancakes into bite-sized pieces, and handed me a sippy cup full of juice. It was just like she did with Scott, and just like she would if I was two years old. I was embarrassed but oddly enjoyed the spectacle. She changed my diaper after breakfast, and it was more involved than any of the previous diaper changes. When my diaper was dry, my aunt just did a quick wipe and then sent me to the bathroom to get dressed. This time, she took her time and made sure the diaper area was clean and dry. She also took time to clean my butt, just like she did when I pooped my pants. It was more than just a few wipes, so I don’t think I was very clean down there, but my aunt didn’t say anything about it. I think it was about five minutes later when she finally handed me my underwear and said, “Off you go, honey. You’re a big boy now.” I was the same awkward teenager I always was. Based on how she treated me that Sunday morning, I knew I would get the same treatment Scott was getting if I wet myself during the day. I knew her system. I would have to wear Pull-ups if I had an accident, and I would go back to diapers if I had too many accidents in Pull-ups. I knew I would get the full baby treatment, just like Scott. I wasn’t sure how long the baby treatment would last, nor did I know how many times I could wet a Pull-up before getting put in a diaper. It was almost a full week, and Scott was still in diapers all the time. Scott never asked to use the bathroom, and she never took him. She said they were taking a break from potty training, but I didn’t know how long the break would be. What if she makes him do this all summer? What happens if she puts me in a diaper? I’d like to say that the bug was out of my system. I peed in my diaper and knew what it felt like, which is what I wanted. However, I wanted it more, and not less. I thought about wetting my pants that Sunday afternoon. I might have done it, but I was too scared. I wanted to wet my diaper again the next night, but it is hard to pee in a diaper when you are used to using the potty. I slept the whole night and was still dry when my aunt woke us up. She took off the dry diaper, gave me the appropriate kudos, and sent me on my way. I ate breakfast from a normal chair, and my aunt went back to ignoring me most of the time. That was the day that Scott started potty training. I was a single child, so I didn’t know how little kids learned to use the potty. My experience was a bit rough. I remember my mom getting mad at me when I didn’t make it to the potty, but I didn’t understand how kids learned when they needed to go. My aunt seemed to be calmer and a lot nicer than my mom. She didn’t yell and didn’t make him sit on the toilet unless he asked. When she knew he was ready to poo, she asked, “Scotty, do you want to try to use the potty?” He nodded and she praised him when he pooped in the toilet. She then asked me, “Tommy, Scotty wants to use the potty like a big boy. Can you show him how big boys use the potty?” I was confused and answered, “Yeah? what do I have to do?” “It is really easy, just make sure to take Scotty with you when you use the potty. You can model how big boys use the potty.” I was fourteen, and it was weird bringing my seven-year-old cousin with me when I peed in the toilet. I didn’t want to do that, and I am ashamed to admit this, but I wanted Scott to stay in diapers. I think I only did it one time, and that was when my aunt was watching. That first day, my aunt asked Scott if he needed to use the potty and praised him when he went. The second day, which was a Tuesday, she told him, “Scotty, big boys don’t need to be told when it is time to use the potty. If you need to use the potty, ask me and I will take you.” I think Scott asked her a few times, but most of the time, he just used his diaper. I don’t know if he did it on purpose or couldn’t tell when he needed to pee. Either way, my aunt didn’t get mad. She just said, “I guess you are not ready. We’ll take a break and try again later.” I figured my aunt wanted to put Scott in Pull-ups, just like she did with me after I pooped my pants. If he did make it three days without an accident, he could wear underwear. I started to do the math. I wanted to see how long Scott would have to wear diapers, and how long until he could get to full big-boy status. At least, that’s what I told myself. In reality, I wanted to know how long it would take to go back to normal after being put in diapers. It was a whole week until my aunt started to potty train Scott again, and I figured that’s what would happen to me. I knew it would be another three days in Pull-ups, and then three more nights wearing diapers to bed. Obviously, that included sleeping in the crib the whole time and getting treated like a baby while wearing a diaper. That was only two weeks, which didn’t seem that bad. I knew I would have to act fast if I wanted to do this. My aunt just put Scott back in diapers, and it would be another week until she tried to potty train him again. If it happened soon, Scott and I would be babies together. However, there was a chance that Scott would be potty trained and out of diapers, while I still needed them. It sounds weird, but I didn’t want to be the only one treated like a baby. I considered wetting my pants right there, but I had to make it seem real. It would look suspicious if I started to wet my pants for no reason. However, my aunt knew I used to wet the bed, and I just wet the bed again on Sunday. Maybe, if I wet the bed, she would think it came back. It made sense, to me, that if I was already wetting the bed, I could have accidents during the day. That night I set my plan into action. First, I peed in the diaper before I fell asleep. My aunt had to think I was wetting the bed again, and I couldn’t risk another dry diaper. That meant I had to sleep in a wet diaper all night, but I didn’t mind. The second part of my plan came after our highchair ritual. Aunt Amanda was working from the patio as I played with Scott and Debbie. We were running around like little kids, and I felt the urge to pee. I wanted to make sure I could pee when we were outside, so I didn’t go before we started to play. I made sure nobody was watching, closed my eyes, and started to pee in my pants. I felt the warm liquid stream down my legs and looked down at the obvious sign that I wet my pants. This set up a problem I hadn’t considered. My aunt had to find out, but how to I make sure it isn’t obvious that I wet myself on purpose? I asked myself, ‘What would I do if I really did wet my pants?’ When I was little, I hid my accidents to avoid punishment. However, this time I wanted to be caught. I could have easily excused myself and cleaned up in private. Nobody would ever know I peed my pants, but that’s not what I wanted. I decided to let my aunt discover it for herself, which is what happened before. Unfortunately, I didn’t count on Debbie seeing it. She saw the wet spot and said, “Tommy, you peed your pants.” I shook my head and defiantly cried, “No I didn’t. I don’t pee my pants.” “Yes, you did. It’s right there. I need to tell Mommy.” “I’ll take care of it.” “Mommy said to tell her when Scott pees his pants, so it’s the same for you.” She then shouted, “MOMMY! Tommy peed in his pants.” Aunt Amanda looked surprised and said, “He did? Tommy, what happened?” Debbie said, “We were playing, and Tommy went pee-pee.” Aunt Amanda looked at the wet spot and said, “It looks like you had an accident. I’m afraid that you need to go back to Pull-ups. Let’s get you changed.”

ahhh I love that pic man, i remember seeing it and it was part of how i got into this kink and realised i was attracted to diapers lmao.

I never truly stopped being wet overnight. I know it is genetic, my close cousins also wet the bed as kids, but I still truggle with it. I also had daytime accidents while playing or doing anything that distracted me. I will never forget feeling my training pants get warm and THEN running to the bathroom to pee. I had a kids mattress before, so I didn't pee into it, but when I got a real twin bed size I had a protector and wore Luvs diapers. I was a small kid. I remember being six or seven when I knew how to tape up my diaper myself. I progressed to goodnites which I wore until I graduated high school. At that point I learned to set an alarm for every 90 minutes. That really works for me and I use it when I don't have any protection. Then my back got injured. 🤦‍♂️ FML. Otherwise, I wet the bed three nights a week nowadays. Well, not the bed, my diaper is wet 3 out of 7 nights, lol. It was almost every night as a kid. I slept very deeply. People could move me to a different room and I didn't wake up. Now I can't sleep so easily. 🤷‍♂️ But when I do, I go so deep that I pee the bed.

My Mom’s Phone Call I was dry again in the morning, and I made sure to gloat when Aunt Amanda woke us up. She said, “You’re dry. Do you need to go pee-pee?” I nodded and smugly said, “See, I told you.” My aunt remarked, “First, we need to make sure you stay dry during the day.” I wanted to tell her that I was already potty trained, but I knew it would just put us in a vicious cycle. I did my business in the bathroom and then took a seat next to Scott in his highchair. My aunt looked at me and asked, “Did you pee, or did you poop?” I tried not to sound snarky, but I probably did. “I just peed.” I was a little more excited when I added, “And I washed my hands, too.” Aunt Amanda smiled and said, “Good job, and you did it without being reminded.” I couldn’t tell if she was genuinely proud of me, or just being snide. It didn’t matter at the time; I was too excited about the phone call from my mom later that morning. All I needed to do was let my mom know what my aunt was doing. There was no way my mom would let Aunt Amanda keep treating me like a baby. My mom was always telling me that it was time to grow up, but that wouldn’t be possible if I was literally treated like a baby. The call was just before lunch, which was nighttime at my mom’s base. She wasn’t allowed to tell me where she was, but it looked like just another Army base. I have to admit, it was kind of cool seeing her. It had only been two days, and even if I wouldn’t admit it, I missed her. However, I had business to conduct. I had to let her know what my aunt did. The first thing I said was, “Mom, can I go somewhere else for the summer?” My mom shook her head. “I’m afraid not, honey. Aunt Amanda is the only person who can watch you this summer.” “But Aunt Amanda is crazy!” “Why do you say that?” “Mom! She is making me wear Pull-ups, like the kind that little kids wear.” I figured that would get her attention, but Mom didn’t seem surprised. “Aunt Amanda told me that you pooped your pants in the car on Monday.” I tried to think of an excuse, “Yeah, but.” “She wants to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” “Mom, I’m fourteen. It won’t happen again.” “It’s only been two days; how do you know it won’t happen again?” I cried, “It was an accident.” Mom countered, “Isn’t that what the Pull-ups are for?” I smirked, “If I was three.” Mom was not impressed and said, “You pooped your pants, and you’re fourteen. What does that say about you?” It wasn’t going how I expected. “Mom! She is making me sleep in a crib, and I have to go to bed at eight o’clock. It’s not even dark yet!” I could have told her about the diapers, but I didn’t want her to know about that. My mom was undeterred, “Tommy, I told you before you left that you’re going to have to follow Aunt Amanda’s rules.” “But.” My mom interrupted me, “I know that I did things differently when you were little but let me ask you this. Are you going to poop your pants again?” I immediately shouted, “No!” “Are you going to wet the bed?” “NO!” “Good, then it’s working. You know that Scott still has problems making it to the potty, just like you did.” My mom liked to remind me about my potty issues when I was little. “Scott has to wear Pull-ups when he doesn’t make it to the bathroom, and she has to treat you the same way. It’s only fair, right?” I guess I was supposed to nod in agreement, but I just rolled my eyes. Mom continued, “Look, I don’t expect you to have any issues. It’s just three days, and then everything will be back to normal. You’ll get your own room, and you can stay up as late as you want. She will leave you alone and let you do whatever you want, within reason.” My mom saw the disappointment on my face and scoffed, “Tommy, don’t give me that look. You’re a lot older than Scott, so I expect more from you. Pooping your pants is just not acceptable. At the very least, you should have to follow the same rules.” I shook my head, but Mom ignored it. “Maybe if I made you wear Pull-ups and diapers when you were younger, you wouldn’t have kept wetting your pants.” I sulked in protest, “I’m not a baby!” It was supposed to sound defiant and strong, but it came off more like a whine. My mom rolled her eyes and gave me that disapproving look that only a mom can give. “Tommy Michael Montgomery,” she used all three of my names, and any kid knows that’s never good. “Aunt Amanda told me that you’ve done nothing but pout and sulk. If you don’t get your way, you pout and throw a tantrum. I already told you that if you want Aunt Amanda to treat you like a teenager, you have to act like you deserve it. You have to be mature and responsible. You have to help around the house and do your chores without being asked. Don’t whine, don’t pout, and don’t throw tantrums when you don’t get your way. If you keep acting like a baby, you should be treated like one.” That conversation didn’t go as well as I hoped, and I fought back the tears when we hung up. I didn’t mean to cry, but I felt hopeless. I was stuck living under my aunt’s absurd rules for the whole summer.

Another Day After his mom left, Scott asked “Do you wet the bed at home?” I replied, “No, I don’t pee at night.” I could have left it at that, but I felt an odd sense of companionship with Scott. I shared, “But I used to.” There was a sense of relief in Scott’s voice. He knew he wasn’t alone in his plight. “Really! How long did you wet the bed?” “I wet the bed until I was ten.” “Oh, did your mommy make you wear diapers as well?” I answered, “No. I used to just wet the bed, and then my mom would get mad.” Scott replied, “Mommy makes me wear diapers, but she doesn’t get mad if I’m wet. Debbie used to wet the bed too, but she stopped. Mommy told me that I’ll get a big kid bed if I can stay dry three times in a row.” I asked, “Do you wear diapers during the day all the time?” Scott said, “No, only when I have too many accidents. When I have accidents, I have to stay in diapers until Mommy can potty train me. Sometimes I even get to wear real underwear like other big kids, but then I pee my pants and have to wear Pull-Ups.” “How long will you have to wear diapers now?” “I don’t know. A few days. I can’t use the potty until Mommy lets me.” Aunt Amanda chimed in on the monitor with an annoyed tone. “It’s bedtime. No more talking!” My aunt is crazy! Scott is going to be treated like a baby until he stops wetting his pants, and it might be three more years until she lets him sleep in a real bed. That’s what would have happened to me. If my mom acted like Aunt Amanda, I would have slept in a crib until I was ten, and I used to wet my pans as well. I might have had to wear diapers during the day! At least I knew this wouldn’t last forever. I hoped my mom would make Aunt Amanda stop and everything would be back to normal. I thought about making my aunt wake up in the middle of the night to take me to the bathroom. I figured it would be a good punishment for doing this to me. However, there weren’t any clocks in the nursery. It was just a night light and curtains. Even if I woke up in the middle of the night, I wouldn’t know what time it was. I ended up falling asleep and slept until my aunt woke me up. “It’s time to wake up. I want to check your diaper.” She put her hand on the diaper and said, “Good, it’s still dry.” In a smug voice, I chimed, “See, I told you. I don’t wet the bed.” Aunt Amanda grinned and said, “We’ve got to make sure you are potty trained during the day before we can worry about nighttime.” She handed me a new Pull-Up and said, “Try to keep these dry, remember to use the potty.” I protested, “I don’t have accidents!” Aunt Amanda replied, “You did yesterday. If you stay dry through Thursday, I’ll give you big kid underwear on Friday.” “WHAT? It’s only supposed to be for three days. That’s the day after tomorrow!” Aunt Amanda shook her head, put the pacifier in my mouth, and warned, “Stop whining. Yesterday doesn’t count because you had an accident.” Scott sat in his highchair for breakfast, and then Aunt Amanda got ready to take us to Reno, which I think was to buy me some pajamas. I guess they had to buy some other stuff as well, but I didn’t pay too much attention. I just followed along. Other than the thick padded underwear that I was wearing, my aunt didn’t treat me much differently than I got from my mom. She even let me go into the men’s bathroom by myself, which shouldn’t have sounded like a big deal, but it was. On the other hand, Scott was pushed in a stroller, and Debbie kept close to her mom the whole time. Debbie might have technically been a big kid, but she was still only five years old and didn’t have much independence. I got into a small tussle with my aunt at the store. I wanted to buy something from the men’s section, but my aunt knew those clothes were too big for me. At the time, I wasn’t quite big enough for men’s clothes, but baggy clothes were more popular. I pointed to the men’s section and whined, “I want to go there.” “No, Tommy. Those are too big. You still need boy’s clothing.” “But I like them big.” “I’m not buying clothes that fit you like a dress.” I stomped and huffed, “It’s not fair.” I had a sour demeanor and didn’t like anything that my aunt showed. She eventually got tired of it and just picked something out herself. To my dismay, most of the pajamas had themes that were for younger kids. Things like Pokémon or Power Rangers. She remembered that I liked airplanes when I was younger, and she found a pair that had airplanes on it. She showed them to me and said, “How about these? You like airplanes, don’t you?” These would have been the pajamas that I would have picked if I was younger, and I really do like airplanes. If I had to get some pajamas, they wouldn’t be so bad. I held back my excitement and answered, “They are kind of babyish.” “Well, I think they look cute. Go try them on.” By the way, fourteen-year-old boys do not like ‘cute’ things. “Do I have to?” “Yes, you do; I want to make sure they fit.” Fortunately, Aunt Amanda didn’t make me parade out of the dressing room, and I got to take them off once she knew they fit. She didn’t make Scott sit in a highchair at the In-n-Out. I guess she didn’t think that was necessary, and it saved Scott a whole lot of embarrassment. Other than making me tell her when I went to the bathroom, she left me alone after we got home. She was concerned that I hadn’t pooped and wanted me to try and poop when we got home. No fourteen-year-old boy wants to discuss bowel movements with his aunt, but she reminded me that I was supposed to tell her when I used the potty. We followed the same routine that night, which included me having to strip down to let my aunt inspect my Pull-Up. She noted that it was dry and praised me for it. “Good job. You get a smiley face. Only two more days until you earn your big kid pants.” I mumbled something under my breath, and she chastised me for being a sourpuss. I was once again back in the nursery, sleeping in a crib and it was still light outside.

Forgot to ask. Does BB's have a Cone of Silence?

Reading this sequence of chapters-- with two bad guys on the loose, known targets, and no increase in security at the facility-- made me wonder if "Mr. Gray" is in fact Larabee, the doofus who became number two at CONTROL under the Chief. The other team is so inept that KAOS truly fits the bill. Now, if Murphy's first name turns out to be Siegfried ...

This might actually benefit the viewer when you think about it. The media industry is heavily oversaturated with entertainment that everything is more of less the same. Might help bring new fresh ideas into the industry. In otherwords, a break from work well deserved. Enjoy the strike, actors, you deserve better pay from the hard work of constantly pumping out more entertainment.

Events in this story may take their time, but just watch out for the second day. For now, the suspicious need to feel comfortable. Like a fly in a Venus Fly Trap, waiting for the right moment to strike is critical. I mean, who would trust a complete stranger at a convention? A caring and kindly figure that just wants to help though... that's something different. Hope everyone enjoys the next chapter! Chapter 5: Shake Your Tail Feathers As predicted, the group confirmed there were less rooms to trick or treat to this year, but having no previous comparison, I couldn’t help but grin at the load of candy I had collected, including some choice full-sized candy bars. One self-proclaimed daddy, dressed as a sailor captain, had even given me an extra piece of candy for the costume I was wearing, as apparently, they were one of the teams he supported back home. It was a small gesture, but it made me feel vastly more confident in the costume I had chosen. Princess Ditzy ‘hmphed’ about the incident but the rest of the group, now sitting around me at one of the round tables, had only smiled gratefully. Their friendliness and openness to someone new was very pleasant to witness and be on the receiving end of. Each of us had dumped our loads of candy on the table and began sorting them in our own ways. Derek simply separated them into piles he liked or didn’t like, Princess Ditzy sorted them by color, I wasn’t entirely sure of Ian’s or Luna’s system, and I sorted them by items I could trade, maybe trade, or absolutely not trade. Remembering Miss Samantha’s advice, I asked Princess Ditzy first, now wide-eyed over a package of Sour Patch Kids. “Princess Ditzy? Would you be willing to trade with me?” She looked at me with wide eyes from her rainbow array or assorted candies, but then narrowed her eyes slightly. “What are you willing to depart with?” I was happy she was willing to trade, but her look screamed purely of someone dedicated to making a deal that would likely favor her alone. “I gave up Reese’s for Lent, so I can part with them or anything in this pile,” I said pointing to the smaller pile I had moved to my right of items I was willing to trade. ‘First, offer my trash, and then move to the items I could trade if Princess Ditzy came to play hard ball today.’ “Anything interesting you see?” One of her still stern eyes twitched. She was keeping up the façade of a hard bargainer, but after all, she was still Princess Ditzy tonight, and she was being offered at least five different types of candy now. “Ummm,” she bit her lip, “I think so… what about mine?” I peered over at her piles separated by color. It was a little harder to tell, but I spotted a few I could take instead. “There’s a couple I see… how about this?” Our negotiations gratefully only lasted a few minutes. Princess Ditzy was still playing as the tough negotiator as well as she could while keeping her calm, but on one occasion had raised her voice in frustration. Miss Chelsea immediately snapped into action, “Young lady! We do not shout at the table. Say you’re sorry.” “Sorry...” Her lower lip trembled, and her hardened stance faltered and seemed likely to break if pushed further. If this was any other place, I might have pressed the advantage, but I didn’t want to make a princess cry today. “That’s okay, Princess Ditzy. It’s a fair deal,” I conceded. “I don’t need some of the candy anyway. I’m sure you’ll enjoy it plenty more than me.” Her lower lip stopped trembling and her emotions quickly swung back within a moment to giddiness. “Thank you, Percy!” I nodded and we exchanged our candy. After a few more trades to completely disperse my unwanted candy, I now had less than most of the group. I would have been more disheartened like the 8-year-old me had been one Halloween, but current me just looked at the bigger picture and searched for the silver lining. I looked at my pile and a few of the others in wonder. My adult sensibilities may have still been active, but my tastebuds were very much not caring what age they were. They just wanted the taste of candy as soon as humanly possible. My fingers trembled with delight as they reached out and graced the tip of the plastic candy wrappers. Piles of Snickers, M&Ms, Kit-Kats, and several others were waiting to be eagerly devoured. I grabbed the nearest bit of the small snickers. It shined under the hotel lobby’s lights above and called out to me. Within moments, I had unwrapped the piece and plopped it in my mouth in quick succession and it was good, too good. I had to have another, so I did. And another. And another. And Another! And… “Percy!” I looked up with the partially eaten Milky Way mini bar still in my mouth. “I think you’ve had enough,” Miss Samantha called out to me. She bore a stern and disapproving look and I gulped the remnants of whatever remained in my mouth down my throat. We stared back at each other for a moment and my knee quivered in fear. The rest of the group stopped their own munching and stared at us. “Now, I know big you could probably eat a bunch more candy, but as someone who is looking out for you tonight, I think you’ve had enough.” “But I am big!” ‘Ooh. Wrong move.’ Miss Samantha straightened up and glared for a moment at me. “I don’t think so, Percy. Everyone here isn’t and you’re no exception. Put your vanilla clothes back on now and have all the candy you want. You’ll do it on your own, but it will be what you want. Deal?” She was giving me an out but I knew my fun tonight would end in a second, and I couldn’t have that. I bowed my head in resignation then shook it back and forth. “No…” “That’s what I thought. Now, put the rest of your candy away.” ‘Wait. Even Miss Samantha had conceded to negotiation being a good strategy for tonight. Could I push a bit?’ I looked up at her slowly. “But… but one more piece? Just tonight?” I didn’t realize how little that sounded out loud, but I knew the question was already out there, so I had no choice but to lean into a bit. ‘Probably something to do with already submitting to her not five seconds ago.’ Subtly, I pouted my lips and widened my eyes toward her. Nothing massive, but enough to maybe make her think twice. “Oh…” her resolve seemed to teeter to my delight, “I don’t know. What do you think, Chelse? Wide eyes and pleading is a weakness of mine.” I took the moment to share the same look with Miss Chelsea now. My fate lay in her hands. “Hmmm…” Miss Chelsea then scanned the others. I had completely forgotten about them in my small candy craze and submission to Miss Samantha after, but from the corner of my eye, I could see each were mimicking me in some way. ‘Apparently, I’m not the only one who wants to have just one more piece. Good.’ In a group like this under these circumstances, what went for one of us, likely went for the rest. Pre-school rules and all that. “Ugh. Very well. One more piece.” She paused. “But that’s it and then they all get put away downstairs. Sound good, Sam?” Miss Samantha nodded. “Good. Now, agreed everyone?” We all nodded our heads, but I noticed that both Miss Samantha’s and Miss Chelsea’s faces were fixed to me. ‘I guess I started this whole thing, so my approval was the one needed the most. Also, I little tingle in the back of my mind noted that the punishment would solely been on me if any of the group had say no either.’ “Excellent,” Miss Samantha spoke back up. “One more piece and then off we go.” I gave her another, more private nod and she flashed me a smile in acknowledgement. I immediately grabbed a pack of M&Ms. ‘Ha! One package but multiple pieces!’ As I wolfed down the ten or so M&Ms, I saw Miss Samantha give me an unimpressed and ‘I know what you did’ type of look, but I was just content with my final few bits of candy for now. After the rest of the group had selected and eaten their negotiated single piece of candy, Miss Samantha and Miss Chelsea helped gather up our trash, throw it away, and then place the rest of our candies back into our respective bags. Once done, they took their original positions in front of and behind us, and then took off for the bottom floor. Another round of waiting at the bag check, a quick change for Ian and Princess Ditzy, and our group headed back upstairs. “I was thinking,” Miss Chelsea started saying once back in the lobby, “there is a perfectly wonderful dance party happening now. We missed the carnival tonight, but I’m sure we could all use some dancing after today. How’s that sound?” The personalities of the group became immediately obvious when faced with Miss Chelsea’s question. Ian wanted to meet back up and play some cards downstairs with his other friends in the middle’s room, Luna only let out a great yawn and motioned toward the elevators, Derek merely shrugged his shoulders, and finally, Princess Ditzy could only bounce around and enthusiastically nod her head. After observing them all, I noticed Miss Samantha was now looking at me and waiting for an answer. I could only shift nervously in place. “I think I may need to talk to this one for a moment,” Miss Samantha spoke up. “How about we all say goodnight to those leaving now and then see the rest of you out on the dance floor in a moment?” The group nodded their heads in agreement, though I think I saw Princess Ditzy let a noise of impatience over the delay of getting to go dancing. Regardless, we all said our goodbyes to Luna and Ian who departed away, one for their room and the other to go play cards. Once out of sight, Miss Chelsea gave a small nod to Miss Samantha and took Derek and Princess Ditzy into the ballroom nearby, ushering out a loud near-concussive blast of music as they opened the double doors to the grand ballroom. Now alone with Miss Samantha, she smiled warmly at me. “I saw you squirming at the notion of dancing, but I don’t think I’ve seen you yawn once since I’ve met you today, so I’m guessing you’re not tired. What’s up, honey?” I shifted awkwardly in place, remembering the promise I had made earlier today. Still, the truth was usually the best policy, and I definitely didn’t want to lie anyway to Miss Samantha. “I… I got nervous.” “Why’s that?” Miss Samantha kept looking at me while she guided me gently to one of the round tables and had me sit down to explain. “I’m not a good dancer. I…” “Remember what we talked about?” Miss Samantha then placed her hand on my now-bouncing knee. I couldn’t help it, especially now that we both knew I was in danger of crossing the promise for the second time tonight that I had made to her earlier in the day. “I do. I really, really do,” I pleaded in an attempt for mercy. “I’m sorry, Miss Samantha. I just… I can’t help but feel this way.” I could feel my heart pounding and my palms start to sweat. “I… I can wear all the little clothing here, but dancing… I don’t want to look bad out there.” Her gray eyes looked me over and she gave a sympathetic smile. “Guess what?” I leaned in closer. “Most people out there are terrible dancers themselves. The trick is to have fun though. Remember, no videos or photos here, so no permanent evidence. Besides,” she straightened herself up and strengthened her voice to give off a more intimidating presence, “you’ve got me to watch out for you.” She smiled at me, and I smiled back over the little joke and her kind gesture. “Now that I’ve gotten you to smile a bit, I can see you’re still a bit nervous though, so how about I go and get us some drinks?” I nodded. “Just wait right here and I’ll be back faster than you can ‘applesauce.’” She patted my shoulder to give me some assurance and then went off to get the drinks. I sat there by myself for a moment and reflected on the day. It wasn’t necessarily all that I hoped it would be but meeting the group and Miss Samantha had been a highlight. It all felt very fast with the way we were interacting with each other, but there was just something about Miss Samantha in particular that seemed to bore right through me. Any armor I was wearing seemed to be made of tissue paper under her smiles and gentle words of encouragement. I was still thinking about her when she returned with two colorful drinks. Hers was yellow and seemed more mature as opposed to my self-proclaimed ‘giggle juice.’ Its colors reminded me of a tequila sunrise, a personal favorite of mine, but like my previous drink of the mermaid water, tasted sweeter and more mellow. If I was ever to design a cocktail for littles who may not enjoy the taste of alcohol but still enjoy its benefits, I would have likely created either of those two drinks. After chatting about random bits of our lives once more, nearly starting back up where we had ended earlier in the day on the black cushioned chairs, Miss Samantha and I got up, threw our glasses away, and entered the double doors of the grand ballroom, freshly imbued with a little liquid courage. The stage was lit, and music echoed off the walls. The room wasn’t as large as it could have been, owing to the playground set up in the room next door where the nerf war had taken place earlier, but the mass of people seemed to fit the space just fine. Balloons of several colors lit up and floated about the foggy atmosphere and humid temperature of the throngs of pulsating dancers before us. “Come on! Dance with me, Percy!” Miss Samantha then guided my drawstring backpack off my shoulders, gently laid it down out of the way on one of the walls where other bags were, and then tugged me gingerly into the crowds of people near the center of the room. It was an awkward squeeze, but Miss Samantha held enough of a presence in front of her that few remained in our way. Within minutes, that would have taken me at least three times as long, we were only about ten feet from the stage and near Princess Ditzy and Miss Chelsea. Nearby, Derek was dancing with another femininely dressed person I had not seen yet. I then felt a gentle tug of my chin, and Miss Samantha deftly guided my face towards hers. “Don’t worry about them, sweetie. Don’t worry about any of them. Just focus on me. Come on and dance with me.” I started to rock back and forth to the music. I wasn’t lying when I said I couldn’t dance, but I did have an appreciation for music. I easily picked up the beat and nodded my head and moved my body as the notes filled my ears. “That’s it, sweetie. Keep going.” In my own motions with the music, I could easily see Miss Samantha begin moving with the music as well. Her movements were similar to mine, but more free, expressive, and fluid. I looked like a rusted robot learning to move again with small movements to indicate the rust might be edging away. She, on the other hand, looked like a graceful dancer unfolding and swaying in a delicate breeze. I wasn’t the only one who noticed. Before I could mind them though, the song finished and the next picked up the pace. Movements were shuffled around, and a lot of people started bouncing up and down. Some even began to hop in place and almost violently nod their heads. Miss Samantha and I bounced a bit, but true to her promise, she never strayed far and watched me for nearly every song for the next 40 minutes. It was wonderful and the time flew by quickly with each change of the song. Finally, Miss Samantha pulled at my hand, and we exited the dance floor with me dragging behind. At one point, I even had to navigate around a large person wearing a fox mask adorned with blue fur while Miss Samantha picked up my bag. It took a second in the chaos and collective dancing around them, but once beyond the doors, as I had been working up a small sweat, the cooler air outside the ballroom felt instantly gratifying. We both took a seat near the doors and could hear the pounding of the music still. “Sweetie, I’m so proud of you for going out there and dancing.” “Thank you, Miss Samantha.” I blushed slightly as saying her name out loud like that felt good but highly embarrassing. To me, it didn’t matter if anyone was truly watching. I just couldn’t get it out of my head that they even had the potential to or to judge me. “Now, I won’t check you today and I’ll respect your boundaries, but something is telling me that diaper is still dry.” I wiggled around a bit and nodded. It was harder to tell with the sweat I was accumulating but the crotch still crinkled and didn’t have a weight to it yet. “Hmmm. That’s what I thought. You need to be drinking more.” I wanted to protest that I hadn’t seen her go pee yet tonight, but Miss Samantha only walked away and then handed me back a small plastic cup of water when she returned. “I want you to drink this up now for me.” She stared at me intently like her request was not up for debate. I was thirsty, so I just went along with what she wanted and downed the water in a few seconds. “Now, I remember seeing you with a sippy cup in your bag” She reached down to the side of her and pulled up my bag that she had retrieved for me. “I managed to grab this leaving while you were trying to move past the one dressed as a fox.” She pulled out my sippy cup, still nestled next to Stripe and then took the empty cup from my hand. “I’m going to go fill both up. Just wait here.” She returned as promised and I downed the cup again, this time without any prompting. Miss Samantha only smiled and pocketed my sippy cup. “For later after the party is over. I want you to drink it all up before you go to bed. Promise me.” “I promise.” I felt foolish promising something like that, but I held little resistance to what Miss Samantha wanted from me. ‘Must be that mermaid water or giggle juice hitting me…’ A small part of me feared what I would do if she asked me to do something more for her. Even if it was embarrassing, I couldn’t help but feel that I still wouldn’t say no. She then stood and daintily held out her hand. “Come on, sweetie. We have a dance to get back to.” I smiled and took her hand as I stood up. A few minutes later, after setting my backpack back against the wall, carrying my now full sippy cup of the water that she had retrieved for me, and navigating through the crowd, Miss Samantha and I were back dancing. For his part, Derek had begun to make out with whoever he was with and Princess Ditzy and Miss Chelsea just bounced up and down to the music, practically bumping into each other multiple times, but just laughing it off as something silly. Neither seemed to mind too much about any of it. Miss Samantha and I followed their lead and for the next six songs, we continued in the same pattern. All that changed when the DJ started playing a slow song. It was unusual but expected for this type of event. I always dreaded these songs whenever I had been dancing with my dates in high school or college, particularly if both of us were having a more awkward night with the other. It turned out that Miss Samantha was not the type to feel, or at least show, awkwardness over any situation. In a few seconds, she took the initiative and pulled me in close to her. Despite the ever-present smell of the fog mixer they were using to provide a dusky atmosphere in the room, plus the hundreds of now sweating bodies, I was enveloped by a familiar floral scent that seemed to pour from her body. I could see the safety pins that had secured her witch hat tightly on her head and her bold makeup only served to enhance her gray eyes. Being so close felt awkward at first, but her warmth, smooth skin, and tender touch easily melted this feeling away. We stayed that way swaying to the music until the song was regretfully over. ‘Maybe I didn’t like slow songs because I didn’t have the right dance partner…’ It was shockingly wonderful, and we even continued the tight embrace once it was silent all throughout the room, beyond the murmuring chatter asking about the next song. Our forms only parted when the next song, a much more forceful number, started. Oddly, Miss Samantha seemed embarrassed for once, but just started dancing and purposefully didn’t bring any attention to her brief moment of weakness on the dance floor. ‘What was she just thinking?’ After a few more songs, the DJ announced the end to the party and the masses began shuffling out of the once packed room. I grabbed my backpack, walked out with Miss Samantha, and then sat in exhaustion at one of the round tables again. She was still standing and seemed to be scanning the throngs of people exiting. I saw that Derek slipped out the other doorway with the feminine figure he had been dancing with, and soon after, Princess Ditzy was walking slowly out with Miss Chelsea. After a few hand gestures between the two, Miss Samantha nodded toward Miss Chelsea, and then sat with me. “Everyone else is headed to bed tonight. I suggest you do the same.” “But there are still people here. What if I miss out on the best thing for this whole event? I’m not even tired.” I tried to stand firm but then realized I had to go to the bathroom and Miss Samantha didn’t seem to be moving on the topic. “I don’t want to leave.” “Oh, I understand, sweetie, but I’ve caught you yawning a few times when you thought I wasn’t looking on the dance floor. I think today was a bit more than you were expecting, but we still have another entire full day tomorrow. You don’t want me to have to force you into a nap tomorrow, huh?” I hung my head in defeat. “No, Miss Samantha.” “Good. Now, I need to make sure Miss Chelsea is okay and head to bed myself. Are you going to be okay by yourself? I can stay if you want me to…” Miss Samantha looked at me peculiarly and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. ‘Was she wanting to be with her friend? Was I supposed to make a move? Was she expecting something more?’ I realized it didn’t matter and that I didn’t want to get in the way of her checking on Miss Chelsea. The buddy system was a golden standard around here during the convention. Though I knew that me leaving and coming to the hotel was decidedly a solo affair, my adult sensibilities would last for the fifteen-minute walk back to my own hotel. “No, that’s okay. You should go and see Miss Chelsea. Make sure she’s all right and all that.” Miss Samantha smiled. “Thank you, Percy. That’s very thoughtful of you.” She paused and looked hesitant. “I know you were freaking out a little with the dark room today, but I think you should consider going to the orientation tomorrow morning. I’ll even attend with you if you want me to.” She paused. “Moral support, if you will and all.” I thought about it for a moment. Despite my quickly growing need to pee and my fear of that dreaded room, I couldn’t help but fixate on the possibility of going there. My heart fluttered for a moment but calmed down when I mentally reminded myself that Miss Samantha had just offered to come with me. It was an opportunity too good to just turn down. “I’ll go with you. Tomorrow. At 10, right?” Miss Samantha briefly looked curiously crestfallen, but then nodded her head in agreement. “Join me line tomorrow morning and we’ll go together. First there saves a spot.” She then stood up and smoothed out her witch’s dress. “Remember to drink your sippy tonight before you go to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Hug?” She seemed that she was in a rush to see Miss Chelsea, but from my interactions with her, I knew she was also a woman of planning, so the details had to be ironed out beforehand. Now that they were, Miss Chelsea was the obvious priority. I hesitated over the abruptness of the moment but wanted to hug Miss Samantha one more time. “I will. I’ll see you tomorrow.” We both hugged for a small bit of time and then broke off from each other. Miss Samantha walked off, turned after a short distance, and gave me a coy, little smile, before trudging up the far stairs once more and out of my sight. I sighed audibly, but my bladder panged again. It was sudden and I momentarily panicked that I would lose control. I realized when walking down the stairs and being reminded of the bulk between my legs of how ridiculous a notion that was, but I still held it in. I was wearing a diaper that could take the abuse, but without the calming and strengthening presence of Miss Samantha, my courage was no longer with me. Wetting a diaper freely in front of everyone was still beyond my comfort level. After waiting a brief time in line for my bags and the changing room, one opened up. I dropped my denim shortalls to the floor and just looked at myself in the mirror. My diaper bulged thickly around my skull patterned onesie, and a quick removal of my baseball gear gave me an odd feeling. I had never been one for sucking pacifiers or my thumb, but a desire to multitask and pee my diaper while sucking my thumb crept into my head. The curtains were drawn, and the noise would be minimal, so I just gave in. Peeing or thumb sucking in public was one thing, but no one could see me now. I had free reign. My thumb tasted salty but a slow pulsing in and out of the digit took my mind off when the last time I had washed my hands was. Enraptured in the moment, a quick burst of pee entered my diaper. Unlike before, I didn’t clench down in fear that my diaper would leak. I told myself that it was the end of the day, and I could always wash these clothes. To my joy though, the diaper did its job and held firmly. ‘Good. So good…’ I luxuriated in the feeling for a moment. The alcohol from the drinks and performing such an act had blissed out my mind for a moment. It was wonderful and a part of my inner consciousness chastised itself for not doing this sooner. ‘Now I know…’ I was only interrupted by another little nearby bursting out into laughter in a changing area nearby. The moment having been broken; I quickly went about changing myself once again. Satisfied with my wiping and a brief air-drying period, I jumped back into my more vanilla clothes that I had originally been wearing this morning when I walked here. After cleaning the table down and crumpling the diaper back up, I exited the curtained room, threw away my used diaper, and headed back outside. The walk back to the hotel was cold and served as a stark reminder to myself of the joy the event had brought me during the day. Despite the walking feeling nice, I wished I could have just collapsed in my bed only a few floors up, perhaps even wearing a diaper still. 17 minutes later though, I walked in the revolving door, purchased an oatmeal container for the next morning and a Snickers bar to snack on to make up for the fact that I had missed a Walmart two nights ago by five minutes and was currently starving. My stomach gurgled and I only then made the connection that I hadn’t eaten anything beyond some candy since I had left this morning at 9. Needless to say, I quickly devoured the Snickers bar in three tasty bites. After downing the sippy cup, performing my night routine, and getting ready for the next day, I laid in bed and tried to look up the events from the world outside. They felt foreign and evil to the point I even grabbed Stripe from my backpack. His presence helped but only led me further to think of only the convention. Memories of the group and Miss Samantha swirled delightfully in my mind, filling me with joy and wonder and shutting out the evil of the world beyond. Pleasant ideas of tomorrow, despite the still present fear of the dark room, were at the forefront as well, and I soon drifted off peacefully, thinking of nothing but caregivers, bottles, and diapers.

Chapter 4: I See The Treats, But Where Are The Tricks? After making it up to the final step, my fears were shown to be unfounded. Not 20 feet from the top step was a pirate, festooned in all his glory and making balloon animals. I had a deep love of pirates and I silently cursed myself for not bringing my own pirate outfit, but I still had to move forward and wear my baseball uniform with pride. The line for balloon animals had already started to stretch far, so I had to carefully skootch by the ever-growing crowds of people now in the lobby. Within sight, I estimated that at least 70% of the crowd around me were now dressed up in some manner. Furies, puppies, princes, dragons, witches, princesses, and almost every costume one could imagine were all on display. Just as I was looking at them though, they were looking at me. Despite my promise to Samantha, my nerves immediately began climbing. I think the organizers had anticipated such reactions though, and I soon spotted a bar nearby. I didn’t like to use alcohol as a crutch anymore in these types of situations, but from the distant sounds coming from the main bar a few halls away, I wouldn’t be the only one. After waiting in line for a few moments, a kindly bartender fixed me up a drink and smiled cutely in my direction. I tipped her well and then sat down at one of the round tables with my drink. It was called mermaid water, but I couldn’t help but be reminded of the Caribbean waters I had seen last June after a particularly violent storm. The juice churned around the small black straw she had placed inside, and singular sweet vapors wafted up as I held it near my lips. As the first drops hit my tongue, I recognized its near blueberry flavor but there were hints in the drink I didn’t recognize as well. I knew someone had yelled out what was in it a few minutes ago, but I was too distracted by a large blue cat passing by to pay any attention to what was being said. Regardless, I enjoyed the drink and was swallowing the last few drops at my spot at the table when I spotted two women walk down the stairs on the other end of the room. Both were fairly tall and bore similar striking looks. The one on the left was dressed as Wonder Woman and seemed to cower all who stared at her for anything longer than a few seconds up close. The second wore a perfectly fitted dress that was tattered around the openings and a large witch hat that sported black feathers that shimmered in purples and greens as she moved. It didn’t take me long to realize the second woman on the right was Samantha. I wanted to see her again, so I downed my drink and then stood up and felt my knees trembling in fear. She had been a warm and calming presence earlier, but her outfit exuded a mystery and even regality to her now. I almost backed out of my path toward her, but she soon spotted me, and I gave her a small wave. She returned it but then went back to talking with the woman who had accompanied her. The two seemed pitted against each other and would only pause when someone would come up to them. A small conversation would ensue, and the approaching new figure would either be told off or gushed over for a moment before they left as well. My knees threatened to buckle, but my feet pushed me onward, and my momentum kept me upright. I continued to hold the bat, and my grip tightened and became sweaty around its PVC exterior. After a moment, I was standing in front of them. “H… H… ahem… hello, Samantha.” I feared her rejection like she had for so many others, but she only smiled. “Hello, Percy.” Her eyes darted about my costume. “I like your costume. As I imagined; very cute on you.” “Thank y… you. I had s… some black liner to go under my eyes. Like for the sun protection a lot of players wear, but I forgot it back i… in my room.” “Aww. That’s a shame.” Her eyes then lit up and she turned to the woman she had been talking to earlier dressed as Wonder Woman. “Chelsea?” The woman spun out of another conversation that didn’t seem like it was going anywhere with a man. “Yes?” “Did you happen to bring our bag down with you? I need something from my purse.” Chelsea briefly looked at me and then sighed. “Of course, I brought the bag.” She then reached down and pulled up a large purple bag at her feet. Samantha smiled. “Thanks Chelse.” She then began to rifle with the bag. Chelsea looked less than enthusiastic but held the bag aloft for her friend while she searched. “Aha! Here it is.” Samantha then pulled out a singular silver cylindrical device. After a moment of pulling and twisting, I saw what it was. “Lipstick?” “Yes, Percy. Black lipstick.” She eyed my hesitation. “I do this right, and no one will notice what it as originally intended for.” She saw my continued hesitation. “Remember what you promised?” I nodded. “Good. No one will notice and it will be just like the real thing.” I only gulped and nodded again. Samantha then carefully eyed and lined up the lipstick across my cheeks. Within a few seconds she was done and produced a mirror to show off her handiwork to me. True to her word, it looked very similar to what I had originally intended for the night. “Thank you.” “You’re very welcome, sweetie. Now,” she plopped the lipstick and mirror back into her bag, “don’t you just look like the perfect ball player. Doesn’t she, Chelse?” “Yeah. Perfect…” she set the bag back on the ground, “and this is?” “Oh,” Samantha playfully smacked her forehead. “Right! This is Percy. We had a bit of a chat today. You remember” Chelsea seemed unimpressed but gave a slight nod with her head forward. “I told him we could meet up later. I think he could join our little group. Doesn’t that sound good, Percy?” I wanted to indicate that I had other plans to bolster my own self-image, but in truth, I didn’t. “Y… yeah. If that’s okay with your friend?” Chelsea’s demeanor softened in a way. Unlike Samantha, whose softened version showed a caring nature, Chelsea’s softness seemed more playful now and even devious to a certain extent. “Oh, I like him, Sam. Very polite. That’s a good little… erm, fella.” I blushed and Samantha noticed. “Oh, stop. You’re embarrassing the poor boy. Pay her no mind, Percy. Now, how about you meet with the rest of the group over there?” Samantha pointed to a group of obvious littles sitting in a rough circle on the carpeted floor nearby. They seemed nice enough, so I agreed. “Okay. Thank you for this, Samantha.” “No problem, sweetie. Now go and make some friends. And remember, just let all those worries go free.” I nodded and headed over to the group of four littles, which to my delight included Derek, now sporting a Lakers basketball uniform, complete with a thickly padded posterior. “Hey everyone. Hi Derek.” “Hey! Perce! Pop a squat! You with Miss Samantha?” “Yeah. You?” I asked, groaning a little as the rough circle opened enough for me to sit down comfortably. “Nah. Miss Chelsea. Actually, all of us are with her. I think you’re the only one with Miss Samantha.” “You must be one special person,” a princess to my left piped up. Her voice was lower than I would expect but her multi-layered princess outfit and sparkly blue eyes overshadowed anything else about her. “I don’t know…” “Oh, I think so. She’s turned away from so many people today. We’ve all seen it.” The group nodded their heads in agreement. “I’m Ditzy. With a ‘Z.’” I nodded toward her in acknowledgement. “Percy.” I looked at the rest of the group. “Ian,” a tall and lanky man sporting moon and star robes and a pointed hat said to my left. The fourth just purred and batted her pawed hand in my direction. “That’s Luna… they’re a cat today,” Ditzy noted. “Oh, I see.” They’re outfit was more subtle than some of the others around us, but clearly painted whiskers on their cheeks, a painted pink nose, a pair of cat ears on their head, a slinky tail now draped across their thigh coming from their rear, and small mittens with pink cat paws on their base marked them clearly as a cat. “Good to meet you, Luna.” I only got another bat of their paw and some purring in response. “So, all of you are with Chelsea?” I asked. “Yep,” Ditzy said, bouncing and crinkling all the way. “She picked us all either last night or today. Miss Samantha seemed she was going to be all alone until this afternoon,” Ian added. “I think she’s a bit pickier than Miss Chelsea. I think they were arguing about it just a minute ago.” “I think I saw that,” I confirmed, remembering back to when I first saw them before I waved and then came over. I decided to switch topics. “Some costumes everyone has. I was honestly kind of worried I would be the only one. I almost didn’t even bother…” “Oh…” Ditzy said, like everything just clicked into place. “First time, right?” “Yep!” Derek interjected. “This is Perce’s first con. Can you believe it? We’ve got a first timer in our midst, and he even gets one of the most mysterious ladies here to choose him. You’ve got some luck, man.” Derek patted me on the shoulder. I blushed at the extra attention. “It’s not a big deal. We just talked a bit after I wigged out and left.” I hesitated. “I’m really sorry about that, Derek. I said I would go in, but then Nix, and…” Derek held his hand up. “Say no more. It’s okay, buddy. She’s a real buzzkill around here. She likes torturing first timers and always pushes the bounds of this place a bit more than she should. Isn’t that right, Ditzy?” It was now Ditzy’s turn to blush. “Derek! We said we wouldn’t talk about that anymore this year.” “Oh, come on, Ditz. Do it for the newbie,” Ian egged on. For their part, Luna just purred and nuzzled into Ditzy’s side. “Okay, okay! For the newbie.” Luna settled into her dress and then popped out a clearly loved lamb and hugged them tight. “My first con a few years ago, Nix was there. My diaper wasn’t fixed properly and I…” “She wet herself and then leaked!” “Derek!” The five of us shot around with wide eyes to the tall figure now standing behind him with her hands on her hips. It was Chelsea. “That’s not very nice of you. It’s clearly distressing to Ditzy and it’s her story to tell regardless. Apologize to her.” Derek was frozen in place, his bluster perfectly deflated. “Now.” Chelsea’s eyes narrowed and her towering form loomed over Derek. For his part, Derek seemed to turn into a pile of jelly under her gaze. I couldn’t blame him. With slow movements, Derek rotated his craned neck and body back to face Ditzy. “I’m sorry, Ditzy.” Ditzy was clutching her lamb even more closely now. “It’s okay, Der. I… I was basically finished anyway.” Derek nodded meekly and then looked back at Chelsea. “Very good, Derek. I’m going to keep my eye on you tonight. Anymore outbursts or steps out of line will be dealt with.” She stroked the lasso at her side, and I could hear Derek gulp in fear over what that could mean. I didn’t know if he knew in explicit terms what her punishment would be but considering her sheer domineering presence and the fact that both now sported black bands on their wrists, punishments could easily cower any little with an ounce of imagination. Chelsea then turned her attention back to a group of bigs that included Samantha, all laughing about something I couldn’t quite make out. “You okay, Derek?” Despite his near cocky and boisterous attitude normally, Chelsea had put him in his place. He likely handled it better than I would have and a little part of me thought that I might have even used my diaper if I was in his place. “Y… yeah. She’s just… well, you saw.” The four of us nodded. “Intimidating but there’s just… something…” Ian made out. “Yeah… Nix is just bad, but Miss Chelsea,” Ditzy seemed to try to search for the right words, even hugging her lamb more, “Miss Chelsea is a big.” “A true adult here,” I mumbled. “A true adult,” the group said in unison in agreement. The conversation continued for a little bit longer and we learned more about each other. Derek was a software engineer on the outside and loved everything about sports, while Ditzy was an artist and loved anything to do with the water. Ian was in marketing and played D&D every week with his vanilla friends back home. For their part, Luna just sat there and occasionally cuddled into either Ian or Ditzy. They were definitely the mystery of the group, but Derek whispered to me that Luna was just playing a bit tonight and that tomorrow they would likely be more talkative. Soon, Chelsea and Samantha turned away from their group of bigs and toward our rough circle. “Alrighty then. Who’s ready for some candy?” “Oooh! Me! Me, Miss Samantha!” Ditzy cried out. She resumed her normal bouncing and her lamb’s ears flopped wildly with some of the bits of her dress. “I thought so Ditzy. How about the rest of you?” We all shook our heads easily. I could feel myself slipping more into the role of my little self. My clothing combined with a treasured childhood memory and others acting in the same manner were all pushing me nicely towards that state. It also didn’t hurt at all that Samantha’s mere presence just triggered something in me. Her witch costume was dead on considering that I found myself growing deeper under her spell. “Excellent,” Chelsea continued, now reaching into her bag. “Ditzy, you’ve been a very good girl for me today. I think I have something just for you.” “For me?” She could hardly contain her excitement and I wondered how much bouncing one person could really do. “Yes.” Chelsea walked over in front of Ditzy, but then stopped and frowned. “Ditzy, I need you to stop bouncing for a moment. I know you’re excited sweetpea, but I need you to calm down a bit. Can you do that for me?” Ditzy froze and looked wide eyed. In a second, her extreme bouncing calmed to only a small squirming. It was apparently enough for Chelsea. “That’s a good girl. Now, when I came here, I just had a sense that I would be meeting a princess tonight. Turns out, that princess was you, but I think your outfit is missing something.” As Chelsea dipped into her bag where Samantha had earlier removed the lipstick that now adorned my cheeks, Ditzy looked like she was ready to explode. Her body screamed with excitement, but her eyes looked devastated and ready to burst into tears. From their rapid darting back and forth to her own body, I deduced that they were like that in response to Chelsea saying that something was missing with her outfit. The look didn’t last long though as Chelsea soon pulled out a sparkling silver and gem encrusted tiara. “Now, I think this is just what a princess needs, don’t you?” Chelsea barely finished her question, when Ditzy’s eyes immediately bulged out of her head. Like a rocket being lit, Ditzy started bouncing higher and with more force upward than before. “Oh my god! Oh my god! “Thank you, thank you, thank you! Eeek! This is so awesome!” Ditzy rambled on for a few moments while our group, and now several passerby’s, looked at the sight unfolding. Chelsea gave her a moment of pure joy but then shot up her finger. “Ditzy!” Ditzy stopped and looked up at her. “What did I tell you?” Ditzy settled back on her knees on the floor. “That’s better. Now,” she held the tiara above her wiggling head, “I proclaim you, Princess Ditzy.” The group began to clap as Chelsea gestured for Princess Ditzy to stand. She blushed but her eyes sparkled with joy. It felt surreal to be praising her for being crowned with something one could pick up at the dollar store, but like everything else here, reality was more what we made it, and today, Ditzy was a princess. After a round of congratulations from each of us, Samantha spoke up. “I’m so proud of you, Princess Ditzy.” Ditzy made a small curtsey toward her and Samantha smiled back. “I have a bag for each of you. Once everyone has one, we can go upstairs.” We jumbled into a line, and each received an orange or black bag. Mine was orange and I quickly fluffed it out to open it fully. “Perfect. Let’s go!” Chelsea cheered from behind me. Our group then causally looked at the three elevators nearby. A mass of waiting costumed people were crowded around each. With their speed, we all knew it would take forever to make it up to any of the floors. If Princess Ditzy was any indication from her squirming in place, at least part of our group likely couldn’t wait that long. Instead, we opted for the nearby stairs. After trudging up the stairs, the five of us littles each showing our diapered rears or at least their noticeable bulges to the person behind us as we went, we got to the top and looked around at the long hallways. My distance vision wasn’t ideal without my glasses, but I opted to keep them in my still present drawstring backpack. Wearing them could smudge the black streaks on my cheeks and I could just rely on the group to guide me at this point. “Look!” Ian shouted and pointed to a door in the distance. Even from here, we could all spot the neon door tag that marked the rooms specifically noted for handing out treats tonight. I had spied several hangers still on the table where they were being handed out, but like most events here, even the smaller ones were still wonderful and encapsulating to a first timer like me. The group then waltzed to the door and Princess Ditzy daintily knocked on it. We all held our breath as the door then opened with a creak. I had no idea what to imagine, but before us, stood a middle-aged woman dressed as a fairy. Pink and green sparkles adorned her wings and were also painted on her cheeks. Her dress was modest but seemed fitting for some reason with the whole ensemble. “Trick or treat!” we all said in unison. “Oh, my. Aren’t you all just the cutest little things in the whole world.” She then looked at us one at a time. “Let’s see, we’ve got a wizard, a baseball and basketball player, a princess, and a little kitty cat. Absolutely adorable.” We all blushed, and the woman’s eyes moved up to the two women with us. “Chelsea! Samantha! Looking splendid in your outfits. Are all these little ones yours?” “No,” Chelsea clarified, “We’re just kind of in charge of them for tonight… though I think this one has her eye on one in particular.” Chelsea jabbed Samantha jokingly. From Samantha’s gaze right back at me, I blushed furiously. “We’ll see. Found this one a little unnerved by the dark room today. I just had to give him a hug,” Samantha added. “Aww,” the fairy woman cooed at me. “Aren’t you a lucky boy?” I only blushed and nodded. Likely sensing my embarrassment, the fairy woman moved the focus off me and looked back at the rest of the group. Princess Ditzy was rocking on her feet and Derek seemed impatiently waiting with his bag already open. “Don’t worry. I haven’t forgotten the rest of you.” She then reached and grabbed a bowl from behind her. “I think a handful for each of you will do just nicely. I normally give out just a piece. After all, growing little babies like yourselves don’t need all that sugary goodness, but you all are just too cute!” The fairy woman then distributed the wrapped candy amongst us. I silently cursed myself for giving up Reese’s products for Lent this year, but I remembered trading candy when I was younger. ‘If we all were dressed and acting younger, maybe the same principles would apply tonight, and I could trade with someone in the group? Ugh. Please let that be the case.’ We all gave our thanks, and the fairy woman blew each of us a kiss before closing the door. The group then moved away and searched for the next door with a colored door tag. I stopped briefly at the rear of the group and looked at the candy I had just collected. “Is everything okay, Percy?” I looked up and a now concerned looking Samantha was staring back at me. “Did someone have an accident? Do you need me to check for you?” “Huh?” Her question caught me off guard and I wasn’t used to someone asking about the state of my diaper. I squirmed slightly and knew that I hadn’t used my diaper. The heat of this hotel was playing with my sensations around my diaper and some of my sweat down there had definitely been giving me the sensation of a used diaper where I could feel it. “Oh, no. Nothing like that…” I felt like a caught little kid with my hand in the cookie jar from her vigilant stare waiting for an answer. “I… I was looking at my candy. I’m sorry.” Samantha’s more focused expression gave way to the smile I had grown to look forward to over the past few hours. She then bent down in her dress and cocked her witch’s hat back slightly. “Hey, it’s okay. You can look at your candy. There’s no reason for a little guy like you to feel embarrassed. I bet you got lots of yummy treats huh?” “I think so. I might have to trade a few…” “I’m sure someone else will just absolutely love that.” She smiled coyly now. “Maybe ask Princess Ditzy? She loves all kinds of candy from what I hear from Miss Chelsea. I’m sure she would love to trade with you.” I smiled back at her suggestion. “Thank you, Samantha.” Samantha then gave me a nice small hug in the middle of the hallway. I could see the other group still looking for another door behind her and Chelsea was eyeing the scene that was unfolding between Samantha and I while also periodically looking in on the others. Samantha then broke the hug first like she had done before and then looked at me with a more serious face. “Sweetie, I noticed that you were calling Miss Chelsea and I by our normal names. I know I introduced us that way, but I think we’re at the point where you should call us something else.” “Oh… what should I call you all then?” My mind raced with the possibilities. “Well, for starters, it’s Miss Chelsea. If she gets to know you a little more, maybe Aunt Chelsea, but just stick to Miss Chelsea for now.” I rolled it around in my head. It wasn’t much of a leap, so I felt I could make the change easily. “I can do that. And you?” Her face softened slightly, and she seemed to like my willingness. “Well, I’ve been thinking about that. I think ‘Aunt’ is too distant for us, but I’m not a big fan of ‘Miss’ either. There’s another, but I don’t think we’re ready for that tonight.” She sighed. “I suppose Miss Samantha will have to do for now. If I feel we’re ready, I might ask for something different. Is that name okay with you for now?” ‘Miss Samantha’ felt a bit stern for how I felt about the caring woman in front of me, but I didn’t want to say no to her. “I can call you that… Miss Samantha.” Miss Samantha seemed almost pained over the name but gave me her usual warm smile and she held out her arms for another hug. I greatly accepted it and we both hugged for a moment. We only broke apart when we heard, “Are you two coming? We just found another door!” from Chelsea down the hall. “We’ll be right with you all! Just needed to clarify something.” Miss Samantha smiled at me and then helped me back up. She cutely dusted me off and guided me toward the rest of the group. Within a minute, we had caught up and faced another door with a blue colored hanger situated on the door handle. As Ditzy was the one to knock this time, I held back and readied my bag of candy. I didn’t know where the rest of the night would take me, but standing there in my baseball outfit, holding a bag of candy, and surrounded by people I sensed were my friends and both Miss Chelsea and Miss Samantha, I could only smile at what could lie next.

I actually have another story that I already have planned out as part of the Stuffy series that explores companies in the Diaper Dimension a bit more. I have a few fully outlined stories that I'm already working on now, so I'll just need to figure out which one I want to post next at this point. I might even ask what others want in a status update, but I'll just have to see at this point. The con is pretty amazing and I rarely saw a permanently sad or angry face. That being said, this is one of the chapters where the con will start to be a bit different than reality. Still fun and exciting, but sitting at writing panels is fun for me, but not necessarily for the plot of a story. Hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Chapter 3: An Understanding Face I was flabbergasted at the sight before me. The woman was dressed casually but with a style that noted she had likely not just thrown her appearance together at the last moment. Being as artistically inclined as I was, I peered into her gray eyes, as I usually found I could get an accurate reading on someone with what their eyes showed. Facial tics and postures could be faked or mimicked in the right circumstances, but I truly believed in the ‘eyes being the key to the soul’ business. Hers, however, seemed neutral and blank. Neither good nor bad. ‘Unusual…’ “I said, are you okay?” she repeated, this time a bit sterner, though while still maintaining her kindness somehow. Upon her stern repeating, I realized I had been staring at her for a moment without acknowledging what she had said in the first place. If this was the normal outer world away from the convention, my staring eyes would have been taken as creepy. Given my attire and demeanor, other more innocent conclusions could be reached. “I… I… I’m sorry.” I looked away bashfully, now fully cognizant of my continued stare. “I’m o… okay.” I remained fixated on the floor at her feet and didn’t move. Instead, I watched as her ankles just crouched, and her voice suddenly seemed nearer. “Are you sure? I know I don’t know you but you’re just sitting down on the ground with your head between your legs.” She paused. “Is this your first con?” I nodded my head but refused to look back at her, given my previous embarrassing gaze. “Yes…” “Ah… that explains it.” The kindness just bounded off her tone. It seemed like they came from someone I could trust, so I looked up at the face that now stood near my eye level as the woman was crouched near the ground now. “It’s a lot to take in, isn’t it?” I nodded, not finding my words again but wanting to avoid just staring at her like I had already done. “You know there’s a quiet room downstairs, right?” I did know. I had toured the hotel and the amenities it would offer over of the con, and near the end of a corridor with other rooms downstairs, such as the preschool room where I had previously met Derek, was the quiet room. It held a dark ambience, which was neatly protected even behind the curtains in front of the door to prevent light from entering when someone entered or exited. Playmats, a large crib, playpen, and a comfortable chair lay neatly against the walls, and I had already seen several of the younger-minded take residence there. “I… I know it. I saw it last night. I…” I paused and tried to calm myself down internally. Big feelings were okay here and were considered normal, but I didn’t want to embarrass myself further… even if it was all possibly just in my head. From past experience, all that would only perpetuate the cycle and would do no one any good. The same could equally be said about the dark room. It seemed too tempting of a place to let out my feelings and I feared that once released, I wouldn’t be able to control them, so I tried to play it off. “I don’t need it… I think…” “You think?” the woman stared at me with questioning wide eyes, still gray and throwing off a neutral ambience. Now though, they bore a mark of comfort and intimidation. They were pleasant but didn’t go far enough into making me feel any more relaxed by their presence alone. “I…” I stared at the double doors to the dark room at the end of the hallway, “I just got a bit nervous over the,” I lowered my voice, “the dark room.” Her face unexpectedly brightened, and her eyes took on more of a caring nature for whatever reason. It felt odd but her whole demeanor seemed to lighten and fill the space around us with an unusual amount of affection and happiness. “Aww. That’s okay. It’s a scary place. I know a bunch of people who are too afraid to even go near those doors. You must be very brave for even getting close to them in the first place.” “Really?” I couldn’t help but play into her caring and babying tone. It felt so natural, and I think even my older steady mindset would have appreciated the gesture of not feeling like a coward anymore. “Really, really.” She seemed to think for a moment and stare at me in wonder, before putting out her hand, her fingers delicately gripped together, almost as if she was royalty and I were to kiss her hand. “I’m Samantha. What’s your name.” I reached out myself and gently shook her warm hand. “P… Percy.” The mere gesture of her reaching down and me having to meet her hand from underneath gave me a peculiar feeling of being more submissive and littler than was reality. “It’s good to meet you, Percy.” She stared intently at my seated position on the floor. “Do you want to talk at all? I have a pretty open ear and zero judgment.” I hesitated. “It might make you feel better?” I knew I was supposed to have fun here and talking might not be the worst idea ever. I had been to therapy before years ago when I was in college and talking seemed to help then, so I figured this wouldn’t hurt either. Unlike the room downstairs, talking could be paused or steadied to prevent me from having a total meltdown today. “Okay… I… I think that would be nice.” She smiled warmly at me. “I’m glad to hear that, Percy. Do you want to try and stand?” I remembered my huddled position on the floor and only nodded. Samantha instantly stood from her crouched position. I had no such luck or physical fortitude. After kicking out my legs and attempting to stand as dignified as possible, I only succeeded in failure and flopping around helplessly. “Here,” Samantha smiled gently and outstretched her hand with a now open palm toward me, “let me help.” I let go of my already bruised ego and took her hand. With little effort on her part and still some struggling on mine, her added assistance popped me up in seconds, my diaper crinkling a bit as it hit the wall when I steadied myself once upright. “Thank you,” I said, dusting off my shortalls from the imaginary dust that I always believed had collected on my clothing whenever I sat. “You’re welcome. Now, I think I spied some comfy looking chairs in the lobby that were empty the last time I checked. Do you want to try them out?” I tried to gain some dignity in front of everyone who had just seen my struggle when my head was on my knees and just now as I stood up, so I made sure to select my best manners and veer away from the more childish ones. “Lead the way,” I said as I even puffed out my chest and lowered my voice a little. Other times it may have covered up my previous shame, but standing there diapered, in shortalls, and with a tiger stuffy still nestled in the bag I was holding, it likely didn’t have the same effect. I didn’t care. I only cared about how I felt in the moment. Gratefully, for her part, Samantha only smiled. She led the way past the growing crowds in the tiled hallways back to the main lobby. It was a short walk and thankfully, no one was currently seated in two of the dark cushioned armchairs; a rarity in such a crowded con. Samantha allowed me to sit first, and she followed, slightly adjusting her chair to get closer to mine once seated. As she adjusted her seat to be closer and to hear me better amongst the noisy crowds of people going off to do their own thing, I sat back in the comfortable chair and took a breath while staring at the scene around me to center myself slightly. Dozens of littles and some older looking crowds I assumed to be middles or bigs, amicably walked by on the tiled or carpeted floors. Above me, housed an array of latticed white supports holding up a large glass ceiling, revealing the dismal weather outside. It contrasted greatly with the balloons, columns wrapped in fairy lights, free stickers, and array of smiling faces. The day was pressing on, and some littles seemed ready to collapse already on the white tablecloth-covered round tables to our rear and right. “Poor little dears. Probably needed a nap today.” Samantha was obviously noticing the same littles I was. “Too much excitement for some.” I wasn’t sure how exactly to respond to a statement like that. Samantha obviously fell into the big or maybe even the caregiver role from what I had seen so far, but I had little experience with them at this point. I knew I wanted something more caring in a relationship but someone calling themselves a caregiver to you personally had felt a bit too much of a stretch so far. For now, I opted for something simple. “I guess…” Samantha looked at me quickly and then almost seemed to study me for a moment. If it weren’t for her kind expression, I would have been very uncomfortable with this person I had just met honestly. “With this being your first con, I’m guessing all this is a lot for you, huh?” “You could say that again…” Samantha leaned in closer to me. “I’ve known about this side of me for a while, but I really didn’t start anything more public until last year. Before then, I just knew it felt right but didn’t do much about it. Not publicly at least. Does that make sense?” “Absolutely.” I was glad to hear that, but I wanted to know about this mysterious and seemingly kindly figure. “So, you’ve known about this side to you for a while?” “As long as I can remember.” Her gaze shifted and she looked like she was having an out of body experience for a moment before quickly snapping back. “It just feels right to some of us, and there’s nothing wrong with that.” “I guess…” “You guess?” Samantha looked insulted for a second. “What does… oh…” Her gaze then shifted to a more sympathetic one. “You don’t have to be ashamed, Percy. All this,” she gestured around the room, “it’s all okay and natural even. You don’t have to be embarrassed here.” “I suppose… I’m just… new, maybe?” I twiddled my thumbs for a moment. “I had an ex who was into more of the dark room stuff for a while, but I kept this side of me hidden… mostly.” “Go on…” her hand gracefully touched mine. It felt smooth and warm, inviting even, as if to say, ‘trust me’ and ‘I want to know more.’ “With her, it was all consent with someone I fully trusted. Several layers of consent and conversations before anything more than completely vanilla, and here…” I looked around at the parading littles with bulging onesies or puppies with leashes and owners. They all seemed so… free. I didn’t find them odd at all, despite what I knew my face probably looked like. It wasn’t distrust or malice toward them. If anything, other than curiosity, it was envy. “So, the dark room seemed a bit much with everything else going on?” I nodded. “That’s understandable, but trust me, it’s all consensual and you can always stop.” I almost asked her how she could possibly know all that, but then spied the coveted silky black ribbon gracefully hanging around her right wrist. She had already gone in and done the orientation, so of course she knew. I nodded. “I get that… I just…” “It’s a lot,” she said, finishing my words. Her look then switched back to what I could only guess was her studying me intently. “You’ve never been little around anyone else before, have you?” I debated my answer. Admitting the truth could work in either direction. She could either view me as a newbie and a blank slate, which I knew some appreciated, or she could view me as a little not fully committed or too new to all this to waste her time with. As silly as it sounded, my kindergartener teacher’s advice of ‘always tell the truth,’ rang freely around in my head. “No. Not directly.” She looked at me questioningly. “I did some experimentation last year with others. It didn’t work out…” “They took advantage of your vulnerability?” I nodded and avoided eye contact. “But I take it before that happened, you were happy?” I nodded again. It was an embarrassing and tense moment in my life when the online mommy relationship ended badly, but it had unlocked something in me. While before I would wear something at least less adult once a month, I was now doing it every week. I still felt a shame of sorts, but I was also feeling a sense of freedom and comfort I hadn’t known in years. She placed her hand on mine again and looked deeply into my eyes. “I’m very sorry that happened to you but I promise that you can be who you want here. No one will judge.” “I…” I managed to make out before shying away again. I averted my gaze, but my hand almost felt cemented under the calm presence of Samantha’s own hand. I would have likely wanted to crawl away in discomfort if it hadn’t been for her simple touch. “Is there something more?” I nodded. “Go on.” “I was outed my freshman year in college. My roommate borrowed my laptop, but his friends pressured him into snooping through my history.” I clenched my eyes at the painful memory and betrayal that happened that spring. “I guess as a prank…” Samantha’s face hardened and grew concerned. “Go on. I’m listening. Just let it out.” I took a breath and continued. “It got out everywhere in the building for anyone who cared a second for a bit of gossip… it took about a month for the side sneers and disgusted looks to go away.” I still felt the pain inside but every year the burden would soften. None of us saw each other anymore and the distance helped. Saying it out loud to this day still hurt though. “Admittedly, there was one girl on the fifth floor who gave me a sympathetic and almost longing look. I always wondered about her… but one good couldn’t outweigh the rest.” “Then what?” “I spent the next few years hiding my likes away. I only ever directly told two people about it before last year. Everything was just bottled up…” Samantha sat back in her chair. In mere moments I had unloaded a decade or more of guilt onto this woman I had just met. Each syllable I managed to spit out was a burden released from my mind but accompanying each freedom, was a tingling fear that she would reject me in a second. To my relief, she did no such thing. Instead, she rocked back forward, and had started to stroke my hand carefully while keeping her gaze fixed on me. In moments, I had melted back into her comforting presence. If I had actually been a toddler at that moment, I would have thought it was magic. “Well, you’re here now, sweetie. Those people were wrong. You are perfect just the way you are for what you like. There’s a whole community here and out there who like the same thing.” “I’ve seen that. It’s almost too hard to believe.” “It’s all real, Percy.” She paused and looked around the room for a second. I thought I had ruined my time with her, but she then snapped back and looked directly at me. “This is a community and we’re all in this together. I want you to do something for me. Can you do that?” “I… I can try.” I didn’t want to outright agree to anything a practical stranger, no matter how much comfort she was giving me, would ask of me. “I want you to try and let go while you’re here. Leave those doors,” she pointed to the curtain leading to the main exit of the hotel, “and you can shrivel all back up inside your protective shell if you really want to. I think you should be who you are out there as well, but I can understand the hesitation in this world.” She paused and took a breath and almost seemed worried for a moment, but then collected herself and continued. “That being said, I want you to let go in here. Let go of all those worries and moments of shame. Can you do that for me?” It was a big ask but I knew what she wanted me to do had its merits. The increasing crowd buzzing around us paid little attention to each other, the same could be true with my presence alone as well. Everyone was lost in the moment of their found joy and Samantha wanted me to do the same. She probably knew that most of what could be considered embarrassing was just the norm during the con. “I will try.” “That’s all I ask.” Smantha patted my hand and then let go. Her loss of warmth and immediate comfort gave me a chill and instant sense of loneliness but Samantha herself remained, and I had to be happy by that at least. In the moment after though, a sad and concerned look overtook her face. “I’m sorry about that. I probably should have warned you before I took my hand away then.” She paused and took on a look of intense concentration. “How about this? Only if you want, but would you like a hug? You’ve been so brave, and I like to award littles who are brave with me.” My heart immediately sped up. This beautiful and kind woman was offering me a hug and had called me brave. In any other room or time, a hug was what friendly people did for others. Here and now, it meant a great deal more. The addition of being called brave after my moment of cowardice was just a cherry on top. I nodded my head in acceptance. She smiled and reached out. We hugged each other for a good few minutes and I took her strong frame into my arms. Her form felt powerful but was also gentle, soft, and she smelled sweetly of blossoming flowers. It was a wonderful moment, and I felt my previously racing heart slow to a steady beat, content over in my luck over meeting Samantha today. Being unable to tear myself away from her soothing touch, Samantha was the first to break the hug. I still didn’t like it, but my heart felt full. “Better?” My body felt the ache of her departure, but I only nodded, and we smiled at each other in gratitude for the tiny moment we had shared together. For the next hour, we exchanged stories about our passions, families, and other such little bits. With time, I saw Samantha as more of a person than the purely concerned big I originally had, with her love of dogs, children, cooking, and even boating in the summers. Her monumental presence as a person unattainable and uninterested in me waned, though she still had an aura of mystery and wonder about her that made me feel lucky for even talking to her in the first place. She seemed to choose her words carefully when talking about her life, but they all sounded genuine, which let her message come across like an artist painting a picture, rather than someone covering up their past. Each outpouring felt deliberate and beautiful, and I sat in my seat, enraptured but what I was hearing. Before long though, she was looking at her watch. “Oh. Look at the time. I’ve got to get ready for tonight. Trick or Treating is a big deal to my friend and me. Are you planning on going?” I was relieved I wasn’t boring her, but I didn’t want this moment to end. I knew she had other commitments than a singular person like me but letting someone like Samantha go felt like a Herculean task at the moment. “To be honest, I was a little on the fence about it. I wasn’t sure if other people…” She held up a finger to stop me. “What did I say?” I looked at her in confusion. “Forgetting already? That’s okay. I can’t expect a little like you to remember all the time.” I blushed. “I want you to not think about others while you’re here. Just do what you want to have fun. That’s the goal.” ‘Shoot. My big stupid head already forgetting.’ “Oh, right. I’m sorry. I… I’ll be there tonight” I was still wary of going, but I didn’t want to upset the woman who had just been so patient and understanding with me. “Good.” Samantha then stood up and I joined her. “I’m sure I’ll see you later tonight. Until then…” she then reached out and hugged me. I was stunned for a moment by the suddenness of the gesture but quickly leaned into her embrace. This hug gave me the same sense of warmth and happiness and I didn’t want it to end, but Samantha had other places to be, and she broke the hug more quickly this time. “Bye for now.” She walked away but then arced her head back coyly after a few steps. “I’m sure you’ll look cute with whatever you wear tonight.” With that she gave me a little wave and left my stunned form still standing in place by the cushioned chairs. I stood there for a minute more until another little in just a onesie cleared his voice and asked if I was sitting in the chair still. I shook off the feeling Samantha had left me with, let him sit down, and then walked off to go back downstairs. Samantha had gone up early and there was still a little time before the trick or treating would even begin. Clutching my still unfinished piece of art, I reentered the preschool room and began feverishly working on completing what I had started earlier. The encounter with Samantha had given me a newfound confidence and happiness. Her gentle mannerisms and soothing words had pierced my inner psyche and allowed my younger side to come out a bit more than I would have cared to admit. I had to continually remind myself to not care how others would perceive that side, but I was just grateful it didn’t really start to become noticeable to me at all until I began rapidly filling in the background the picture with black. For all the subtleness I was giving the background. I might as well have been coloring as aimlessly as a toddler. Still, my straight random scribbles added to the mystery and tension behind the characters, and after a quick signature and dating at the bottom, I posted it on the wall with a large piece of blue painter’s tape. The finished artwork stood out amongst the pages that others had colored in or the multitude of doll cutouts that made up the bulk of the artwork in the room. Each was done in a unique manner, and I couldn’t help but chuckle and wonder at the same time if the scribbles on some of them had come from a lack of artistic ability, a little mindset, or even aa combination of both. Regardless, time was ticking, and I was beginning to feel the need to pee. Having only started fully experimenting with my little side in the past year and only really just started using my diapers in the past few months, my diaper changing abilities were growing stronger but still lacked the confidence of a seasoned pro. Full blown wetting with my own abilities was a risk I was too nervous to undertake still, especially considering my lack of a change of younger clothing with me. Any accidents with what I was wearing now would only lead me to change back into my vanilla clothes. Samantha wouldn’t like that, and at this point, neither would I. ‘What are jeans and a t-shirt compared to a onesie and some shortalls?’ Waiting in line for a few minutes, I finally made it to the bag check. I requested my items from the friendly volunteers and gladly took my normal travel backpack and the complimentary large red canvas bag with me. I waited in line behind a long litter of littles waiting to change themselves or the ones with them, and one by one, each of them found an open changing area to go about their business. Finally, it was my turn. I proceeded along the narrow passageway in between the draperies that acted as the walls and doors of each changing area. Sound proofing was out of the question, but opaque colorful fabrics and a simple chair system to designate if a place was free or not eliminated any embarrassing accidental viewings. Some probably wouldn’t mind others sneaking a view, but I was not amongst them. I empty my required changing materials and my limited costume out on the floor and then stood in front of the mirror. I could pee without the mirror, but it gave me a visual clue to possible signs of leaks while I went pee. Without much effort, a stream began filling the diaper and within a minute of steady forced on and off streaming, I was done. I let the pee settle for a quick moment, then quickly ripped the tapes open, and took care to set the diaper on the ground. I then wiped myself to the best of my ability with the wipes I had brought from home and then prepared the thick diaper I had wished to use for tonight. It was thick and every square inch was marked with a cutesy cartoon character playing dress up; perfect for a night of trick or treating. Fluffing it, spreading it out on the changing table, and then applying powder, I got into position and lowered myself down onto the thick mass. It crinkled loudly and I briefly felt embarrassed. The embarrassment didn’t last long. Two voices had been going back and forth in the changing area next to mine. It was typical conversation fair, but from the sound of their progress, they were already deep into their own diaper change. “Legs up, baby.” Some crinkling could be heard. “Good job! Whose mommy’s little baby?” I heard a few giggles sneak out and more crinkling could be heard. “Oh? Do I have a ticklish baby?” More giggles. “I think I do! I think I do!” Fits of giggles now poured out. ‘They’re certainly not embarrassed... I don’t know if that’ll ever be me…’ Pffft! Brrrrppppt! “Mommy! Ah! I can’t breathe!” “Doesn’t my little baby like raspberries?” “Well, yeah but…” Pffft! Brrrrppppt! “Mommy! Mommy!” The words rang out in my ears. Here I was, having my usual trouble around adjusting the diaper to fit snugly around my thighs without cutting into them or risk popping them later, but of course not having them too loose that I could eventually leak when I decided to use the diaper for its intended purpose. Their rapport felt natural and free. No hesitations or breaks in the scene. Just bliss during the end of a diaper change, as opposed to my own, where I now stood to make the final adjustments to the tops of the diaper. It was slightly crooked, but it would do for my purposes. The little next to me likely now had the perfect diaper and was about to be off and giggling all the way. I shook my head. Such thoughts did me no good and would likely just make me sad again. I couldn’t squander the feeling of joy that Samantha had left me with earlier. So, I doubled down, and then refastened my onesie and shortalls. Pausing for a moment to admire my appearance, I then took my costume out and held up my baseball jersey and hat from back home, along with an inflatable bat and a few balls. It was simple to allow it to be lightweight and portable for my flight here, but it was enough to show I had made an effort of some kind. I was worried with the spring opener a week away and my team having ousted the local team last year in the playoffs, that the outfit was a risk, but I still went with it anyway when I was thinking about tonight back home two weeks ago. After packing my other items back up, I wiped the changing table, and admired it for a quick moment. Though truly a sturdy masseuse table, it did wonders in its purpose and feeling of a raised sturdy surface to change a diaper. I then balled up my used diaper with the wipes, and walked out, carefully placing the chair in its proper position to signal the area was now free to be used again. I dunked my diaper in the nearby trashcan for such purposes and waited in line once more to hand back my travel backpack and large red bag. Outside, I sat against the wall out of the way of traffic and inflated one of the balls and the bat as best I could. They weren’t like the real thing of course, but a careful squeezing and closing of the nozzle in rapid succession allowed them to be held and make a small thudding noise when hit. Still carrying my drawstring backpack, I gave Stripe a quick squeeze in his position in the back mesh before heading back upstairs. As my tired knees clambered up the stairs and I hoisted myself forward with the brass railing, I felt a surge of fear take hold. I had always been a massive fan of Halloween and trick or treating, but this all felt different. Each step seemed to take me closer to an embarrassment I couldn’t just wave off. I knew others had been talking about the event, but I also knew that some of the mainstays that had really pushed the event along weren’t doing it this year for whatever reason. It was enough that a seed of doubt momentarily entered my mind. Right as I turned the corner though, Samantha popped back into my head. Her calm demeanor and the promise I had made to her stuck out and almost seemed to want to slap me across the face to snap out of it. I had made her a promise and I knew I had to keep it. Getting on Samantha’s bad side was not a line I wanted to cross, or even go near for that matter. No, I had to suck my fear in, gather my courage, and just not care what anybody else was possibly thinking. I just had to let go.

Yea...it's pretty awesome. Been doing it this way for years. So much fun. The added bonus is that if you wet your diaper afterwards then there is little to no 'sticky' clean-up if you get my meaning....

Glad you discovered this wonderful tool!