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Chapter 1 - Christmas Morning Oliver knelt in front of the Christmas tree and reached low underneath it, back against the wall. There were still a few presents left, mostly smaller ones, and his mom had asked him to fish for one in particular, for his sister Grace. “Good things come in small packages…,” his mom said mischievously. Oliver could feel his sister’s gaze on his back as he tried to discern which package was for Grace, and he didn’t like it, because he knew that as he reached forward, his pajama top was rising up from his pajama bottoms, and his pull-up was likely visible. He reached back with one hand to try and tug his shirt down, as his other hand turned over the remaining small packages, and he squinted in the dim and multicoloured light under the decorated evergreen. Pine needles tumbled down the back of his shirt; the tree had been up for a few weeks, and it was drying out. “Don’t worry about your diapers, Oli, just pull all the small boxes out and we can sort them!” Oliver turned and directed a lidded glance at Grace, who, at fifteen, acted like she was one of the adults in the household, and frequently tried to tell him what to do and how to do it. He caught his mother shooting her an annoyed glance as well, but there was more to it than that – it had an imploring quality, as if she were saying come on, Grace with her facial expression. He wished, not for the first time, that he’d gotten changed before coming down earlier in the morning, but his mom had wanted them in their identical pajamas that she’d bought on some website. However, they were white, with red candy canes printed on them, and he knew as soon as he’d put them on the night before that the purple and blue print on his pull-up would show through them slightly, and that the medium-rise waistband would be perpetually under the high-rise training pants. Training pants. That’s a stupid description for a product that fits a twelve-year-old. He didn’t exactly enjoy his absorbent underpants being discernable under his pajamas to the people in the room, but it didn’t really bother him that much, either. They all knew he wore protection overnight. Grace might toss him the occasional barbed comment, but, that was par for the course, and he could give as good as he got, taking potshots at her skills with makeup or how she was always wearing t-shirts for bands she didn’t actually like. The problem was, this was Christmas morning. So while he was rooting around under the tree and feeling pine needles cascade across his bare lower back to pile up along the elastic of his pull-up, he knew that his dad was shooting HD video on his phone – he even had a handheld gimbal for it. And, he knew that video was being sent to his aunts and uncles and cousins. Even that wasn’t the worst of it. Snippets of the video would end up in the hands of his dad’s PR team, where it would be filtered and edited and ultimately shared with his constituents on his website and his social accounts. His dad was a local politician, and politicians love sharing wholesome videos of their families opening perfectly-wrapped Christmas presents in front of a perfectly-decorated Christmas tree. Or, at least, their handlers do. And many of his dad’s constituents were also the parents of his friends and classmates, as he was reminded of on his twelfth birthday, a few months prior, when a video of his family surprising him first thing in the morning was posted on his dad’s social media. He'd been in dreamland when the door came flying open and the lights went on and a stack of pancakes was presented to him with twelve candles in it, while his mom and his dad and his sister sang ‘Happy Birthday’ and Sparky, their cocker spaniel, ran in circles and barked. Which was all well and good, except that Christine, his dad’s assistant, was standing above it all with the latest and greatest phone in that same handheld gimbal, livestreaming the moment. And when Oliver leaned forward to let his mom put a birthday hat on his head, the side of his pull-up came into the shot. WHICH he found out about when his buddy texted him a screen capture of it, a half-hour later. By then, it had circled the globe, as far as he was concerned. A guy at school that he didn’t like had called him “puddles” the following week, and his response to that had landed him in the principal’s office, followed by a stern lecture from his parents when he got home. “We’re a public family, Oliver – your dad runs for office every four years. You can’t be getting into fights at school.” Version of that had been drilled into his head since before he even understood the word ‘public’. And now, his dad was running to be the Commissioner for the Department of Environmental Protection for all of Washington State. This was no city council seat. The stakes were higher than they had ever been. His mom was acting like his dad was running for President. Grace was taking her cues from her mom. Dad’s assistants were at the house almost twenty-four hours a day. Meanwhile, Oliver was more aligned with Sparky; both of them wished that things would go back to normal. Oliver shook his head and retrieved the last of the presents from under the tree. There were still two other presents that hadn’t been unwrapped, but they weren’t under the tree, because they didn’t fit under there. They were stacked up to the right of the tree, in front of the fireplace, and both he and Grace had been instructed that they were “for later”, whatever that meant. The top one was medium-sized, and the one below qualified as ‘large’. He intuited that these must be their Big Presents, because everything that they’d opened up to now had been nice, but not exactly life-altering. And Christmas had pretty much always followed the same script – there was a bunch of nice small stuff, and then one or two grand presentations. Oliver saw as soon as he pulled the remaining small gifts out that a couple of them were for his grandparents, and that one had Grace’s name on the tag, but he still made a show of examining each of them, tilting his head left and right as though reading hieroglyphics, and then squinting and looking back at Grace, before moving on to the next package. “What’s a matter, baby, you forget how to read?” Grace taunted him. “Grace Anne Holbrook, watch your tone,” his mother snapped back. “Dad is recording this for his team. Be nice.” Oliver looked over at his dad, and began leaning towards Grace with a present in his hand. When the camera panned to Grace, he made eye contact with her and stuck his tongue out, causing her to make a sour face as she received the gift from him. “Cut, cut…,” his dad said. “Oliver, take the present from Grace and hand it to her again. Grace, nice smile please.” Grace rolled her eyes. “Pull your shirt down, dummy. Your diaper is going to be famous.” “Grace! Enough with that talk, not now, we talked about this,” his mom responded, and Oliver was again a bit confused at her inflection, her emphasis on the word ‘now’. He held the present out to Grace but looked over at his mom, as his dad shot the hand-off like he was James Cameron. Grace took the present and smiled at the camera, then she sat back on the white leather couch, crossed her legs and pulled the ribbon off of it. Her red and white Santa hat matched Oliver’s, their mom’s, and their dad’s. They’d tried to get a hat on Sparky, but he was having none of it, and threated to shred the hat, so now it was on the head of a three-foot wooden statue of a nutcracker soldier, next to the fireplace. Oliver sat back on the gunstock hardwood floor, and felt the seat of his pull-up squish damply underneath him. He didn’t worry about it, however, as he’d been wearing them since he was a toddler. He knew that this one would be good for another half hour or so. Grace took a breath when she lifted the top off of the box. “Oh…. My…. God…. THANKYOUTHANKYOUTHANKYOU!!!!!!” she exhaled in one breath. Oliver was surprised at the exuberance of her reaction. This wasn’t the big present, right? Grace pulled a smaller, white box out of the box she’d unwrapped, and held it up. The top of the inner box had already been removed. All the better for the footage, Oliver thought to himself. She tilted it forward and slowly moved it from left to right, like she was displaying one of the many possible prizes on a game show. Oliver saw that it was an Apple watch with a rose gold band. “It’s an EIGHT!!!!” Grace exclaimed. Holy crap. Oliver knew phone models and accessories like some of his dad’s golf buddies knew their BMW and Porsche hierarchies, so he realized that Grace’s watch had cost a pretty penny. This WAS her big present. So what the heck is in those two boxes by the fireplace?

So, at this point, unless I am able to rapid complete a few other tasks outside of writing, I will not likely be able to post the final chapter of this story until next week. There might be some flexibility with this, but I have a few things coming up and I don't know how much time I will have to edit the final bits. Most of the chapters are written by now, but the editing process might take longer than the time I could have available. I should know more by the time I post the second to last chapter and I will keep everyone up to date. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this next chapter! Anyone have any guess what I modeled Fun Zone after? Chapter 12: Session 34 I tidied my observation post once again after an even stronger storm had hit and made its way into the bowels of this facility where I worked for most of the work week. “Welcome back everyone! Today is session 34! It’s now been over a month since Ron has started the project, and I am pleased to say that we are making progress on nearly every front in some capacity.” I then switched the view to yesterday’s event at daycare. Ron and Kyle had both been content to play in the sandbox outside while Ashley was trying to get them to play with her on the playground. “Now there is nothing wrong with a Little on a playground, but it is of the opinion of this project, that such influences of taking Ron away from purely regressed Little-only activities could negatively impact his progress.” I zoomed in on the still resistant Ashley. “While Ashley has shown some inclinations at wanting to change from views of her own progress in the project, she has still yet to make the leap into such territory. As such, we have encouraged Joy to coax Ron along by spending more time with Littles like Kyle and Olly. For instance, today, Olly and his mommy have invited Joy and Ron along to join them at Fun Zone, after a quick suggestion of getting together from Joy, so I am very excited to see how that unfolds.” I then switched the screen to two days prior when Ron went to the park with Joy as had become their routine. He aimlessly played with the other Littles, and each carried their own individual stuffy and occasionally sucked their thumbs or pacifiers. “As you can see, Ron now clearly has become attached to comfort items even when not in distress. Louie has been a continual presence in his life for some time now, but thumb sucking and attachment to Joy or even nearby blankets have become staples of his life. I believe Ron may soon publicly desire, or at least not fight, the addition of a pacifier.” I switched the RealET system on and the scene began to unfold as Ron and Joy walked toward the entrance of Fun Zone. Cutely, Ron practically clung to her leg as several strangers whizzed by them. Being a chain all around the world and being used as a place where ‘fun’ seemed to be the only priority, it appealed to all ages, both Bigs and Littles. “Lastly, I have noted that Ron has evidently become more attached to Joy. Moments without her in sight in strange new locations have given the Little a fair amount of palpable discomfort. Today, should be an interesting sight to witness firsthand as the two will separate from one another while he is playing with Olly.” “It’s okay, honey,” Joy soothed Ron as the Big children quickly ran past them and into Fun Zone. “I thought you said this was a place for Littles?” Ron asked, obviously nervous over having to possibly interact with the notoriously bully-like Big children. “I said it was for all types of littles. They’re just little children for sure… just not a Little like you.” Ron looked up at her with an expression that practically begged her to leave right now. Joy noticed. “I promise you’ll be okay. Just have some fun with Olly and maybe just avoid the others.” Ron nodded somberly and the two entered the large building that was a part of the nearby strip mall. Inside, loud music and lights practically blinded and deafened the two as they entered the chaotic atmosphere. With a little more pushing through the front entrance, the two finally made it into the main area of the establishment after receiving a glow-in-the-dark handstamp. Olly and his mommy, Cynthia, were both waiting and waved them over. After a short while and a brief round of hellos, Olly pulled a slightly reluctant Ron into the mix of everything going on in the main play area. After a few of the retro arcade games, Olly, ever still the bright and discerning Little, stopped and snapped his fingers in front of a near frozen and clearly distracted Ron after he caught him trying to find Joy for the fourth time in as many minutes. “Hey, Ron. Look, I know that it can be scary at first without her but try to feel the freedom of this place.” “I’m trying but…” Ron gestured hesitantly toward a group of Big children who were furiously smacking a game of whack-a-mole nearby. It was evident that their presence was unnerving the now slightly quivering Little. “Yeah… keep away from them, but this place is safe. Besides, all she wants for you is to have some fun, right?” Ron nodded. “Then there you go. Just let go and let yourself do that. It’s simple.” Ron hesitated but nodded once again. “Good. Now, come on!” Having been from two different experiments, there were many differences between the two. Ron was forming into a fully regressed Little in his own way, but Olly had only been more or less slipping more into a role of sorts, rather than a true state of physical regression symptoms. While Olly could master any of the games if he really tried, the same couldn’t be said for Ron. Determined to let his friend have some fun, they mainly stayed away from the games that required an intense amount of concentration or coordination. After a moment and satisfied with the enjoyment that Ron was having himself with one game about shooting aliens, Olly broke off from his side of the game. Seeing that Ron would be left surrounded by other Littles who could offer a buffer of sorts to the cruel Big children, Olly then began to leave the area. “I need to see my mommy about a thing,” he said quickly before departing. Ron was hesitant but let his friend go. Not long after, a relieved Olly returned, and the pair then went off to enjoy the immense array of slides and tubes next. As they were climbing, Ron finally asked a question that I had seen tick in the back of his mind ever since Olly had left. “Olly, why do you call your caregiver… well, uh…” Ron seemed unable to say the word. “Mommy?” Olly deduced at which Ron nodded his head. “Yeah… a bit different from most Littles. What of it?” “Well, I mean, why do it? Why call her that? Are you being forced? Is she secretly evil? Were you kidnapped?” Ron quickly spouted out a dozen or more questions in rapid succession as they neared the top. “Woah, woah,” Olly said, holding up his hands to ease his friend up a bit once they got to the top and had a minute to breathe. “She didn’t force me at all.” Ron looked at him almost as if he had suddenly lost his mind. Normally, a Little who called their caregiver ‘mommy’ was either highly regressed, could have been experiencing some form of Stockholm syndrome, had given up, or was being forced to call her that. Olly seemed to be none of the above. Seeing his expression, Olly let out a little chuckle. “It’s odd at first, I grant you, but don’t think of it like a bad word as most Littles around here do. In fact, it’s about the polar opposite.” “I don’t understand,’” Ron admitted after a moment of soaking the information in. “That’s fair and I really wouldn’t expect you would at first, but think of, at least in your case, Joy, as a matron or a leader of sorts.” Ron nodded slowly as he still followed along for the most part. “Right, well, we say madame president, or mayor, or judge so and so all the time. They’re signs of respect for a certain position that we put value in. Think of the word ‘mommy’ as being the exact same.” “Isn’t it a little different though?” Ron asked hesitantly. “If you want to look at it that way, then sure, but I’ll tell you what…” Ron leaned in to listen better to what almost seemed like the set up for an immense secret. “Mommy’s love the term… and to be frank, you call them that, and they practically melt at your whims.” “Really?” Ron said with such hope. Despite Joy never punishing him in any real capacity, except for a few threats or cooling off periods, I knew Ron was still fully aware of what happened to other Littles who misbehaved. Not ten minutes ago, another Little had been bratty and had been hauled off by his own caretaker, and then only to return a little later with tears streaming down his face and a hand delicately rubbing his backside. “You bet!” Oily joyfully continued. “Now, admittedly you can’t break every rule in the book, but I guarantee that the term almost drops certain things down a few punishment tiers.” Ron gestured to him to continue. “Well, like I got a spanking for tossing my fork across the kitchen one day. After I called her ‘mommy’ though, it happened again a week later, and it was just corner time for like two minutes. Max.” “Wow…” Ron was so shocked and in his own head still by the revelation that when he went first going down a slide a little later, he didn’t see who was at the bottom and accidentally ran into a child Big. Ron’s bladder let loose in panic, and his diaper quickly caught the sign of his readily apparent fear. “Hey! Watch where you’re… oh damn!” the Big child said upon noticing the relatively tiny figure of Ron below him. “Lookie here fellows,” he called out over to his group of friends, “we got a widdle baby here.” His mockery was palpable. “Wha…?” Ron said, still in shock. I think his adrenaline then took over and he began to try and inch away and plead for forgiveness. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry! It was an accident… really!” Ron pleaded in desperation, but he was soon surrounded by the four imposing figures. In truth, they were kids still, but their admission here was borderline at best. Likely, by next year, they will have been deemed too old for further admission into the play area. “Watch out below!” Olly cried as he zoomed down the slide, oblivious of what was happening below. Getting to the padded surface at the bottom, he quickly popped up with pure excitement and faced the nearby and cowering Ron. “You see that, buddy? I was so… Ron?” Olly then realized his friend wasn’t paying attention to him at all, and seemed confused, but turning around, he quickly realized what was happening. “Oh, you all…” “Oh wow! Another baby,” one of them jeered. “He looks even tinier.” “Geez. Both diapers and onesies under their widdle shorts!” the pimply faced one then gave a whiff. “Hmmm… can’t smell anything, but they’re probably messy.” “Best be sure to check!” “Yeah! It’s a health hazard.” “Goo-goo gaa-gaa to you too!” Ron was too stunned and emotionally drained from everything that his life had become, so he just stood there as the four descended down onto him with their infantile jeers. Olly was much clearer though and comfortable with his current life, so he immediately stood in front as quickly as he could. “I don’t think so, you stupid bullies. Get lost or you won’t like what happens next!” It was practically an empty threat currently, but it was just enough for the bullies to stop in their movements and recoil a bit. “Yeah… that’s what I thought. Come on, Ron.” Olly then helped his nearly shell-shocked friend and got out of sight of the halted Big children. “Whew… that was a close one, right? Can’t believe those dummies fell for that. At least we didn’t have to fight, right…? Ron?” Olly looked back at his friend and the shocked but constant state he had previously exhibited wasn’t holding up very well. Visible cracks were quickly giving way and Ron’s emotions seemed ready to burst. “I… I…” He couldn’t even finish his words. “Oh… hey, it’s okay…” Olly tried to comfort his more emotionally unstable friend, but it was no use at this point and Ron began to freely cry as his damn burst. “I’m not a baby! I… I’m… not! Right? Please tell me! I just don’ know… Be my friend… Tell me! Please!” Ron begged his friend in anguish. It was an odd sight for one Little to be asking the advice of another that was at least as regressed as he was, but in this one instance at least, Olly probably only represented the more stable of the two Littles after their last encounter. “Uh…” Olly struggled to find the right words to comfort his friend. Until he could figure out something to say, he just started to rub his back in sympathy. Now, Olly was a good Little, but I could see the turmoil swirl about his face. From my own point of view, I could at least sympathize with the predicament that Olly now found himself in. Ron wasn’t a baby in the literal sense, but a Little, like the one he was turning into, was only steps above that in this world. Knowing that information full-well, telling him that he wasn’t a baby at this point would have basically been a lie. So, Olly now had to lie and comfort his friend, tell the truth and possibly break his friend’s spirit, or find some secret third option. It was a mighty dilemma, but fortunately for Olly, another caregiver in the project had been watching the scene unfold and had been passing by with their own even more regressed Little. “Hey there, do you two need help?” she asked sweetly as she pushed the stroller toward the exit. Olly looked at the Big woman before him and nodded. “Maybe? You see my friend here…” “Oh, I saw the whole thing. You were very brave by helping him out and standing in those bullies’ way. Your mommy must be very proud to have such a nice Little.” Olly beamed over the compliment. “I hope so too, but you see my friend…” Olly then looked over at his emotion mess of a friend. “I’ve tried but I just can’t seem to help him. He asked me something… I just don’t know…” Olly then looked away from his friend and back toward the woman with a sense of hope. “Can you do anything?” The sniveling Little next to Olly heaved in and out but made very few sounds apart from his sniffling and mumbling of something that seemed to come across as ‘I’m not a baby…’ “Hmmm,” the woman mused. She thought for a moment, but then quickly snapped her fingers. “I think I have just the thing!” She then bent down and reached into her own Littles diaper bag in the stroller in front of her and produced a single object. “Here,” she said, pushing the pacifier into Ron’s mouth without asking first. “Just keep it. My Little has plenty and I think you could use it today. Lots of Big children around here. Maybe ask a manager next time to help? Even if it means leaving your friend… it could mean the difference between this and the bullies never being a problem again…” Olly nodded. “Thank you, ma’am. Will do. We’ll try to avoid them first of course but that’s a good suggestion.” For his own part, Ron’s cries had died down as ne nursed on the alien object in his mouth. His eyes screamed that he wanted to remove it, but his whole body seemed to have other desires as his entire demeanor immediately began to calm down. Olly looked away and back toward the woman. “I’m sure my friend is thankful too, but… well, I think he’s still a bit overwhelmed by everything.” “Perfectly understandable. Maybe go and find his mommy…” Her Little then began to fuss in the stroller. “Oops. Looks like my own is just waking up now. Gotta go, but it was lovely talking to you.” Olly reciprocated his own thanks and waved goodbye as she walked out toward the front entrance. Looking back toward his friend, Ron was still eying the pacifier with a sense of distrust, but his acceptance of it now only seemed to be assured. It wasn’t locking or anything, so it could have been removed at any time. The fact that it still pulsated and calmed the Little was a sign of things to come for sure. “Come on, buddy. I’m sure Joy will want to look you over or whatnot.” The two made their way over to the now-seated Joy and Cynthia, but after a quick check to make sure everything was okay, the two were quickly sent back out while they waited for their food to be brought over. In truth, Joy and Cynthia had wanted to, and I quote, ‘spank the daylights out of those hoodlums who made fun of my Little,’ but our testing agents had intervened first. Olly and Ron seeking comfort and retribution from their caregivers was positive but finding comfort in each other was something we desired as well. Additionally, sensing the Big woman was going to help them as well, it might have gone a ways to help them begin to trust Bigs more in general. After making their way back to the play area, likely sensing his friend needed some downtime, Olly elected to sit in the ball pit. After a moment, Ron plucked out the pacifier and just held it in front of himself for a moment and eyed it with a look I couldn’t quite place. ‘Was this the beginning of a new friendship? A new comfort item? Or was it to be discarded quickly like Ron had done with the prune flavored Pioneos juice that he had the other day?’ “Better?” Olly asked after a second. “Yeah…” Ron said, clearly feeling a little embarrassed over the whole series of events that had just occurred in front of his friend. “Those guys were jerks. Avoid them but think nothing of it, buddy,” Olly tried to comfort him after seeing his friend skirt away in embarrassment. “I will…” Ron looked away and briefly blushed, “but I need to admit something…” Olly nodded for him to continue. “I… I can’t tell you how much I just wanted Joy or Louie to be there at that moment. When I realized I didn’t have either, I just… I kinda lost it.” Olly smiled at his friend’s revelation. “I completely get that. Super normal to feel that way, and besides, those are all good feelings in this sort of world. I mean, if they make you feel better, then so much the better, right? Why fight the comforting stuff. Aren’t things hard enough for us Littles?” Ron hesitated at the whole notion that Olly had just logically spouted out but then nodded his head in agreement. “Right…” Ron then stared back at the pacifier in his hand and pocketed it out of sight. It wasn’t in use, but he also hadn’t discarded it. The two then just chilled in the ball pit for a while longer until Olly spotted that their food had yet to arrive still but that the Big children were now also more or less distracted by the arcade games and away from the slides and tubes. “Come on, Ron. The coast is clear. Let’s have some fun while those bullies are distracted by the shiny lights.” Ron grinned at Olly’s attempt to make them seem like easily distractable animals and followed as he exited the pit. They then had a wonderful time and even went as far as to make up their own world that all the tubes were part of some giant spaceship. “Commander Olly, sir. Do we have a shot of the Gorzollas?” “Negative, Gunner Ron. The Gorzollas are still out of range. Wait until their scales shine in the sun and then fire everything.” “Yes, sir!” Gunner Ron saluted his commander. Things went on like that and soon, both had completely forgotten about the earlier incident with the bullies. Unfortunately, they weren’t the only Littles and another pair of Littles in yet another experiment that had just begun also joined in the tubes. It didn’t take long for them to meet up with our intrepid space bound heroes. Now, Ron and Olly were exceptionally fast moving in the tubes for the regression tier they were both at, but diapers were still a bit bulky to truly be considered anywhere close to being ‘easily maneuverable.’ As such, when Olly went first down one of the slides, Ron came in behind him, but his diaper had swelled a bit, so he took some time getting into the proper position. Apparently, it was too long for the waiting pair of still unregressed Littles right behind him. “Too long!” one shouted at Ron. “Move it!” the other shouted. “Sorry, sorry!” Ron tried to apologize, but it was already too late for the impatient pair to his rear. “Get moving!” the first shouted, but now he used a nearby ledge to steady himself and then shove Ron down the slide faster with his foot. Unlike several of the other slides here, this one was a straight shot and landed into matted area below that awkwardly ended with a wall fright in front of it due to limited space and budgetary reasons. Several signs warned of only going feet first to better direct oneself at the bottom, but Ron wasn’t so lucky. After being popped in the back by the other Littles foot, his deteriorated coordination caught up with him and he immediately tripped and plummeted headfirst down the slide. All attempts he made at stopping were in vain. “Watch out!” Olly cried as he saw his friend sputter down the slide at near-full speed and headfirst. It was too late though. Ron skidded down the slide the rest of the way and went headfirst right into the wall in front of him at the base of the slide. It wasn’t a large impact necessarily due to the partial stopping power that Ron had exerted, but for a Little with some unstable emotions lately, a forming bump might as well have been a mallet smashing into his skull. Ron immediately lost it and began to wail in earnest. “Oh, crap,” Olly said, not censoring his words as he rushed to his friend to help once again. Of the pair, Ron clearly had the worse luck. Now, crying your lungs out isn’t very dignified, but it is also immediately noticeable and more so than the few tears that Ron had shed earlier. So, this time, several Bigs and staff members came rushing to the Little’s aid to find out what was wrong. In between his pitiful wails, the gather crowd could only make out words like, “pushed,” “other Littles,” “top of slide,” and “was too slow.” It wasn’t much but it painted a pretty clear picture of what had happened and why the distressed Little now sported a decent and rapidly forming bump just below his hairline. “Can somebody get this Little’s mommy?” one of the staff members asked. Either too distraught or just not caring at the moment, Ron made no effort to correct the term being applied to Joy. Somehow though, the insinuation of it all or maybe the comfort of her mere presence, now almost seemed to temporarily soothe his jangled nerves. ‘Curious…’ Olly immediately volunteered to find her and a short time later, both Cynthia and Joy came barreling through the crowd after being hurried back by the Little. “Where is he? Where is my Ron?” Joy asked in a panic. “Right here, ma’am,” the staff member noted calmly. Joy rushed over and bent down to console her Little while Olly, Cynthia, and the rest of the crowd just stood by and watched. “He’s going to be okay, ma’am. Just a bump on the head, but I just need to know if he’s allergic to any medication.” Joy thought for a moment as she soothed her distressed Little as best that she could. “I don’t think so. His file didn’t state anything, but you know how they can be sometimes from the other portal worlds. They don’t know half the compounds we use and most of the time they don’t know you’re allergic to something until your face is about to pop.” The staff member nodded. “I understand. In that case,” he then began to rummage around in his bag, “I’m just going to give him some of the Wound Bond gel I’ve got in my kit. It will take longer to heal, but he should be good by tomorrow or the day after at the latest. Plus, it’s got some great numbing properties as well. I’m sure the little fella might appreciate that about now.” Ron just tearfully nodded and Joy just gave him a little hug while still cuddling with him to calm him down further than her presence had already done. The staff member then applied the gel while another member soon came out of the tubes while ushering the other two Littles away from the premises. Unbeknownst to most of the Littles, all the tubes had cameras inside, so the entire event was caught in black and white. “Don’t worry about those two ever again. They’ve been banned here unless other… alterations have been secured.” Joy nodded in approval and understanding of his insinuation. “Sounds fair. Can’t imagine they’ll be like that for very long after today.” “Exactly…” The staff member then finished applying the gel and presented an assortment of band-aids to Ron. “Alright then. The gel should be kicking in, so can you be big boy for me and choose which pattern you want?” The fast-acting gel was already working its wonders and Ron had thus even further calmed down, now only a few tears and a sniffling nose left as evidence that he had once been so upset. By now, satisfied with the outcome of the spectacle, the crowd had dissipated and only Cynthia and Olly remained nearby. Ron looked at the presented bandages and he quickly pulled a few down in absolute rejection. Considering they were princesses or unicorn themed, most everyone nearby just chuckled. Finally, Ron pointed to the band-aid with the members of the Equity Alliance on it. “This one.” “Excellent choice.” The staff member then applied the band-aid and handed a few tokens over to both Ron and Olly. He also gave Cynthia and Joy a few discounted coupons that would heavily slash the price of their time here today, waved goodbye, and then headed off. “You know, Joy, I think these two might just need a break for the day,” Cynthia mused afterward. “I think you might be right,” Joy agreed as she still cuddled with Ron in her chair back at the table. “In fact, I think I spy some mighty special food coming…” Ron cutely immediately perked up and saw the freshly arriving pizza, salad, and breadsticks. Joy took notice and smiled at her steadily growing happy Little as she put him in his highchair while Cynthia plopped Olly in his own. “Did someone order some pizza?” the young staff member asked. “Oooh! Me! Me! I mean… us! Us!” Ron gleefully called out, his bump evidently not bothering him anymore, likely as a result from both the oncoming food, Joy’s tender ministrations, and the gel that had been applied to his forehead that now sat underneath the bright blue superhero-themed band-aid. The young staff member then set the pizza down and Joy quickly served both Olly and Ron their slices from the Littles-sized pizza. It was almost only half the size of the one for Joy and Cynthia, but it was still a massive amount for anyone to consume in one seating. Still, Ron eagerly dove into the melted cheese wonder before him and his friend. Unfortunately, Ron’s stunted coordination once again reared its ugly head and eating the pizza as he used to, was proving to be a major challenge. Seeing her Little struggle once more, Joy calmly offered to help. “Do you need me to cut it up, honey?” Ron was about to protest, but Joy then quickly spoke up again. “Look, sweetie, even Olly is getting his cut up for him.” Ron looked over at his friend with his own cut-up pizza and reluctantly agreed to the destruction of the beauty laid out before him. It proved to be a wise move and Ron got about halfway through the pizza when the show began to start. Large animatronics hummed to life and began to sing and play their instruments. It was certainly a highlight of the chain, and most Littles couldn’t get enough of the spectacle. Olly and Ron were no exceptions. What this meant however, was that Ron was barely paying attention to where his fork was ending up. Once again, Joy noticed and just started to feed Ron herself. “But…” Ron said, before swallowing another bite. He looked like he wanted to protest further, but another bite of the delectable pizza and the apparent realization that he could just enjoy the show now, silenced any further protest. Joy just smiled as she continued to instruct her Little to close when the fork had entered his mouth. The vibrant and cutesy show soon ended and both Littles seemed to be waning in their energy levels. Still, Cynthia and Joy both looked at each other and while the day hadn’t been a bust necessarily, it was far from the ideal scenario that either had originally envisioned. “Okay, you two. You can go back out and play, but maybe just stick to the games for the rest of the day.” Ron and Olly almost seemed geared to automatically protest the apparent ban of something that was so fun but a small tap by Joy on her own forehead stopped them cold as a reminder that the last time they had gone up, one of them had come back with a mighty bump. “Okay…” both sighed and then toddled off. Watching them as they left, both caregivers looked on at their departing Littles and the increasing bulk of both of their diapers. As two experienced caregivers by now, they knew that before they left for the day, they would need to stop off at the restroom and give them a change. Nearing the games, Olly and Ron decided to work together with their free tokens to win the prizes easier. Some games still seemed to prove to be too difficult to master, but they eventually found a few more manageable ones and were soon successful at a number of them. One allowed them to play a memory game, which with their combined efforts, paid out in almost a hundred tickets. “Ooh! Ooh! That one, Olly,” Ron cried out, eagerly pointing to one of the cards that he remembered had a matching bunny on the other side. Olly then selected it and another bunny appeared. “Yeah! You go, Ron! We are the masters of this! These animal cards shall submit to us! Ha ha ha!” Olly laughed exaggeratedly with his best impression of an evil voice. “Yes! We shall rule all!” Ron said, mimicking the deeper tone that Olly had adopted. Both Littles then laughed and cheered each other over their combined successes. Before too long, they had racked up an immense number of tickets and held them tightly to their chests as if they were guarding their loot with their lives. Many looked on in astonishment, but both Littles just made a beeline for the prize counter and dumped all their tickets in front of the staff member that was waiting there. “How much is all this?” Ron asked innocently. The staff member just looked on at the pile in front of him. “Uh… just one second…” They then began to feed the long lines of tickets into a machine just behind the counter. A loud crunching noise soon echoed all around the three of them. Olly and Ron then stared at the prizes in front of them. While both could count, they had lost track of the amount after about 250, so they knew what they could afford at minimum. Before them, were prizes ranging from a stick of chewing gum all the way up to a new computer from Melon Corp. That one was 10,000 tickets, so both Littles just looked at each other and shook their heads in agreement over its impossibility. Instead, they focused on the more attainable prizes that they could split amongst them. “That will be 954 tickets. So, something big, or a few small stuff…” the staff member eventually explained after the last ticket had gone through the feed counter. Looking up once more and now armed with that information, both Littles saw what they wanted. “The stuffed fish for me,” Ron said. “And the stuffed gator for me,” Olly continued. The staff member nodded and retrieved both. It left them with about 54 tickets left, so they just split up the remaining tickets and got small little prizes like buttons or tiny elastic toys. The candy was awfully tempting, and Ron and Olly looked on with almost drooling desire, but both knew their caregivers well. After the amount of pizza they had just consumed, eating the candy as well was not likely an option for today. Both Littles then collected their prizes and left the counter. Olly’s gator was long and bumpy, but he still held onto him tightly and with pride. Ron’s new fish was smaller, but far more colorful, and like Olly, Ron held onto his new prize with pure contentment. Both danced around in glee, and I could see that Cynthia and Joy both looked on at their two approaching Littles with amusement. The two Littles began to shake their butts all around and both briefly stopped for a moment with an intense look of concentration on their faces, before then immediately resuming their dancing without a clue over what had just happened. Cynthia and Joy knew though, and both collected their respective diaper bags for the change they now knew had to take place. Leaving a regressing Little in a messy diaper had its uses, but both knew a Little with a severe case of diaper rash would only lead to a fussier and less cooperative Little down the road. Olly and Ron continued to dance with happiness, and many looked on with amusement. A few plugged their noses, but if either Little noticed the smell or the gestures from others, they made little to no effort to show it. The day could have gone terribly with the Big children and two mean-spirited Littles, but now, everything was back to how it should be. Getting close to the end of the recording, I could only smile as I stopped the RealET system and leaned back in my chair, full of pride and contentment over the work that we were accomplishing here with Project Nurture. “Not much further now…”

Livy's dinner with Landon and Dan has not gone at all how she planned. The outfit Landon has brought for her seems to totally inappropriate but she has no choice to put it on and return to the restaurant despite what the other diners may think. --- Writing is my passion and my only source of income. If you enjoy my stories you may be interested to learn that you can see every update I post one week before the rest of the world with a $5 pledge on Patreon. For $10 you can see everything early AND 48 full length stories that can only be found on my Patreon page! The money I get goes to paying bills and putting food on the table so I appreciate all of my patrons and would appreciate anyone who might be interested in supporting me to check out my Patreon ❤️ https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- The clothes looked like something Olivia would pull out of her box of Little things in her closet. It was the sort of thing a pre-teen child would think was cool. Olivia was horrified at the prospect of wearing something like that in public whilst Livy was secretly already picturing herself wearing them. The internal war between Olivia’s two sides continued unabated. Olivia looked from the clothes to the ground and back again. She didn’t know what to do. “Come on. I’ll help.” Landon said as she walked forward and put the clothes on the roof of the car. “I can’t…” Olivia started to protest but as Landon reached forwards and started tugging on her shirt she found herself raising her arms compliantly. There was a small voice in Olivia’s head questioning what on Earth she was doing. She was a grown woman, she could dress herself and yet it felt so good to give up control. Her frazzled mind was desperate to give up all control to someone else, to stop having to worry. Livy’s childishness was threatening to overtake Olivia entirely. Olivia lifted her arms into the air and let Landon pull her shirt off. It was only when it went over her head leaving her breasts exposed that she had second thoughts. She covered her breasts with her hands and looked around, her bra felt like scant covering. There was no one in the parking lot which made Olivia feel a little better. When the new shirt was pulled over her head she let out a sigh of relief though she was surprised that the childish shirt fit her. As Olivia looked into the window of the car she could see her reflection. She bit her lip, she had never felt as childish as she did right there in nothing but a shirt and a diaper. She tried to pull the shirt down but although it fit her it certainly wouldn’t stretch down too far. “I need something to cover my diaper.” Olivia said quietly. A sentence she never thought she’d be saying to Landon. “Hold on, I’ve got something right here.” Landon said as she reached into the trunk again. This time Landon was lifting up a pleated skirt. It was white with two lines of pink material running around near the bottom. Olivia couldn’t see what material it was but it looked smooth and satiny. The rest of the skirt was fairly normal but even from there Olivia felt anxious about the size. Despite that she eagerly reached for the clothing, she couldn’t cover up her diaper too soon. There was no doubt it went well with her new shirt. Olivia’s cheeks blushed the same colour as her shirt as she bent over to step into the skirt. She could hear the fresh diaper crinkling with each movement, even as she pulled the skirt up her legs she could hear crinkles as it rubbed against the padding. Once the diaper was in place Olivia turned back to the car window. “It’s… It’s too small!” Olivia squealed. Olivia tugged on the bottom of the skirt but it wouldn’t stay down. It was a very short skirt and even just standing there it seemed to barely cover the bottom of her diaper. She was sure that as soon as she started walking or if she bent over in any way the bottom of her disposable would poke out. She kept trying to get the skirt to go lower but it just wouldn’t. The whole outfit made her feel like she was two-years-old and she was filled with a mixture of humiliation and excitement. Despite herself she could feel her crotch tingling. “It’s all we’ve got.” Landon said with a shrug, “Besides, I think you look absolutely adorable.” Olivia always reacted well to compliments and Livy reacted even more strongly. It didn’t matter what Olivia felt though, there was simply no other option. She looked in the window and let out a little worried moan. “Come on, Livy.” Landon said as she stepped forwards and put her arm around her shoulder, “Dan will be wondering where we went.” Olivia was finally steered away from the window. She looked down and cringed at how she appeared, already she could picture other people looking at her and laughing. The princess shirt was like a flare designed to attract attention and that was ignoring the skirt that was so short it felt like it wasn’t there at all. The cool night air blew against Olivia’s legs and made her feel like she had nothing covering her diaper. As Olivia was walked back to the restaurant she nearly tripped over as she pulled on the bottom of the skirt. Landon chuckled and took her hand as if she was just learning to walk. It was such an embarrassing situation, Olivia knew she should be resisting as hard as she could and yet she was just going along with it. Her submissive nature was impossible to stop. The lights of the restaurant grew brighter and Olivia tried her best to hide behind Landon as they approached. She was practically trembling like a leaf and it had nothing to do with the temperature. She could hear herself crinkling, she was sure it wasn’t just her imagination. At the last minute she wanted to stop and tell Landon that she couldn’t go in but it was already too late, she walked through the doors to the building and felt like she couldn’t breathe. “Relax.” Landon said quietly. That was easy for Landon to say! Olivia’s eyes feverishly looked around at all the other diners, she expected them all to turn to her and start laughing. With the quiet chatter of the restaurant her crinkling wasn’t quite as obvious but she still thought it was far too loud for comfort. As they walked between the tables towards Dan some people did turn to look at them, Olivia could see that whether they noticed her padding or not they were certainly noticing her outfit. When they reached the table Olivia was quick to drop into her seat. She was flushed with embarrassment which wasn’t helped by Dan staring at her. She should never have agreed to come out for dinner… “What’s going on?” Dan asked. It was clear the question was directed at Landon but he was still staring at Olivia. “Well, when I was changing her some of her clothes got a bit dirty so we had to improvise.” Landon said without troubling herself with keeping her voice down. Olivia winced. Hearing Landon describe “changing her” as if she was a baby caused her almost physical pain. She wanted to say that she could have sorted it all out herself or that she didn’t need Landon’s help but she knew the truth. She had made a series of bad decisions and had completely shown herself up as the baby she liked to act as. She should’ve played it safe and worn a full diaper to dinner, she should’ve had a change of clothes prepared, she should’ve gone to the bathroom regularly, and she shouldn’t have frozen up and pooped herself at the table. In hindsight it was all so obvious and yet at the time she had been like a deer in the headlights. Olivia chastised herself. Maybe Livy was the real her and she just pretended to be an adult after all. It would certainly explain a lot. Her lack of attention, her poor choices, her procrastinating and, of course, her wet and messy diapers. She wasn’t an adult at all, she needed looking after because she had comprehensively shown that she couldn’t look after herself. “Olivia?” Dan’s voice brought Olivia out of the inquisition she was giving herself. “Huh?” Olivia blinked and looked around to see a waiter, her husband and Landon looking at her. “I asked if you want some dessert.” Dan said. It was clearly at least the third time he had had to ask. “Oh, erm, I guess.” Olivia replied quietly. Olivia lowered her eyes to the table. She felt even smaller, it seemed like even giving her a minute alone was enough for her to start getting lost. She saw both of her dinner companions shaking their heads at each other in amusement before ordering a simple ice cream for her and a slice of cake each for themselves. “I like the outfit.” Dan said, “It suits you.” As if Olivia needed more reasons to feel embarrassed and little. It was like everyone was pushing all her buttons and trying to make Livy come out for good. As Dan and Landon started discussing work again Olivia didn’t even try to hold her bladder when she felt the twinge of need. Knowing there was a thick diaper beneath her she allowed herself to let go. The hot urine cascaded around the bottom of the diaper before soaking in to the padding and spreading out. The dessert was just as nice as the dinner. Even Olivia’s rather basic ice cream tasted great. By the time everyone had finished and Dan was paying Olivia almost felt content. For a few moments she had even forgotten how infantile she looked though she absolutely couldn’t ignore how much she felt like a little girl out with her parents. “Right, time to go home.” Dan said once the payment was finished. Dan and Landon got up first and started gathering their things. Olivia was a little more hesitant to move knowing how she must look to everyone else. Eventually she couldn’t delay things anymore and slipped forwards off the chair. She quickly flattened out the skirt but she felt sure her diaper was poking out of the bottom, the wetting causing the bottom of the padding to sag. She let out a little whine. “What’s the matter?” Dan asked as she looked at Olivia with concern. “People can see how I’m dressed…” Olivia practically whispered, “They’ll see my diaper…” “Well, you can’t stay in that chair forever.” Dan replied. He put his arm around Olivia, “You’ll be OK, come on.” It wasn’t exactly a reassuring thing for Dan to say .Olivia whimpered a little as she was steered away from the table. She saw people turning to look at her as they went past and she almost wished Dan would pick her up and cuddle her into his chest so she didn’t have to see the stares. Her legs were forced a little apart from the bulky diaper and the crinkling must’ve been audible to nearby tables. Dan’s arm came away from Olivia’s shoulders and she quickly reached out to grab his hand. On the other side of her Landon walked up and took hold of her spare hand. Olivia was now being walked through the restaurant with the others holding both her hands. They’ve must’ve looked like a little family with Olivia being the strangely overgrown small child. “Is she wearing a diaper?” “Hush, dear.” “I’m just saying…” “She might have special needs.” Olivia felt like heart had stopped and her blood had frozen as she heard an older couple they were passing discussing her. She turned to look at the quickly and saw the woman give her a rather condescending smile and a little wave. Her face glowed redder than a fire truck as she turned to look forwards again. Her eyes teared up and she had to sniff them back. Olivia remained tense until they were back at the car. She shuddered as she was forcibly reminded of what had taken place here so recently. To her shock there were some people getting in a car just a couple of spaces over from them, if they had come out shortly beforehand… “That was nice.” Landon said once they finally reached the car. “Very nice.” Dan replied. Olivia was standing near the rear passenger door waiting for the car to be unlocked. In her opinion they couldn’t get home fast enough. As she waited she suddenly felt a hand reaching under her dress and against the seat of her diaper. Without thinking she automatically moved her legs further apart for better access before she realised where she was. This wasn’t her and her husband having fun in the bedroom! “Wet.” Landon’s voice came from just behind Olivia. “What was that?” Dan asked from the other side of the car. There was a heavy click as Dan turned the key and the central locking disengaged. “She’s wet.” Landon said. Olivia winced as she looked around with panic. She had long since given up trying to stand up for herself as an adult and now it seemed like Dan and Landon were easily slipping into thinking that Olivia was just a child. “You’ll have to change her when we get home.” Landon continued. “I don’t need to be changed…” Olivia’s voice was so small she wasn’t sure if anyone heard her. --- If you enjoyed this part you can check out what happens next RIGHT NOW at: https://www.patreon.com/posts/livys-new-family-87817623

Chapter 12: Roommate Parum Mortis – LittleFallenPrincess Lucy was a night owl. She was always up at god-knows-what time, working on whatever it is she does. I’m not sure what that thing is, I never bothered to ask to be honest, I was a bit nervous prying into her life considering she was so socially anxious. Like… this girl was as pale as Death (which I can confirm now!). It was almost like her skin had never even heard of sunlight, and her hair was as black as the void, running all the way down her back. Even her eyes were red… something that initially made me think she had some issue with sunlight. And you’d always see her wrapped in dark, baggy clothing. Honestly, at first I may have thought she was some kind of goth, but it turns out she’s just a bit of a shut-in. She rarely left her apartment. She’d get her groceries delivered by someone, someone she never told me about, and you’d never see her out during the day… I often worried for her mental health, but she always assured me she was okay. We met each other for the first time during university. She was studying something artsy or something to do with technology… I wasn’t quite sure, she rarely spoke of her studies. But we shared a room together in halls, so for the first year we lived together. Quickly becoming friends, she and I were inseparable. That was until we had to move out after the first year. I ended up moving in with a bunch of other friends, but she… chose this apartment, all by herself. I offered her a place in our house, but she turned us down, stating that she’d prefer to live alone now, that the first year in halls was just because she had to… it was university policy. We were really close friends. I often thought we’d end up together, as it was a few months into our living arrangement that she came out to me. It was really awkward because then I came out to her and we just kinda… looked at each other, surprised that the two lesbians had been put together, despite neither of us being out. It didn’t even phase me when she told me she was a transexual, or as she preferred to call it, transgender or trans. Like… she looked and acted like any other woman I had known. Didn’t bother me. I was open minded and I wasn’t bigoted like my parents and a lot of our friends. Only a couple of us knew her secret, and no one has betrayed her trust. Mostly because it’s very hard to earn her trust, you have to be very special to do so. I thought that explained why she was a bit of a shut in, she was too scared to go out and socialise, worrying that she’ll be outed and ridiculed. No matter how many promises to her that it won’t happen, that no one will know… I think she still fears that. She’d often go out to her classes with as many layers of black clothing as possible, along with an umbrella… even during summer. It was weird, and just made her more visible to people, which I didn’t understand, as she really didn’t want to be seen. She just kept telling me she was sensitive to the sun, which led to all the vampire jokes I’ve made at her ever since. She just laughs along with it now, though she was super defensive about it for a while. But no, I didn’t end up dating her, despite how close we were. She did, however… introduce me to Beth… or Elizabeth as she used to be called, my girlfriend. And now, here I was, standing in her apartment after not seeing her for months… in piss-soaked jeans. “Two sugars in yours, right?” She called out from the kitchen. “I… yeah…” I replied, feeling disgusting as I stood there in her living room, my wet pants getting cold. “Do you need a change of clothes?” “I…” “Don’t worry, I won’t ask unless you want to tell me. But yay or nay on the clothes?” “Umm… please…” “Kay. Give me a minute then…” I stood in the middle of her living room, afraid to sit down in the wet jeans, partially due to the feeling of sitting in these… but mostly because I didn’t want to ruin her furniture. “Right, let’s get those pants sorted before I make the coffees.” Lucy said as she briskly walked in, grabbing my hand and pulling me off towards a door at the back of the living room. If I remembered correctly, this was her bedroom. Which as soon as she pulled me into it with a lot more strength than I was expecting… was confirmed. A big plush bed, with a really cosy, dark eggplant-coloured duvet… I was surprised. “Purple, eh?” I said as she pulled me over to the wardrobe. “Yes, yes. I know. I’ve found another colour that works, not just red.” “Who convinced you to…” “No one! I did it myself this time, Miss ‘I am an expert on knowing what looks good’!” She groaned, sticking her tongue out at me before laughing. I missed this. I missed… her. “Glad to see you learned well then.” I laughed back. “Yeah yeah. Now… same size?” “Pretty much…” “Right… jeans…” We were roughly the same size as each other in clothes, meaning that throughout our year living together at university, we’d borrow each other’s clothes. Or more likely… I’d borrow hers. She wouldn’t be caught dead in my outfits, whereas I found some of her darker things worked well with some of my outfits. As she rummaged around in her wardrobe, I looked around. Everything looked exactly the same. Curtains drawn, barely any light… I felt so sorry for this girl. Especially now that I had focused so much on moving in with Beth… I had completely ignored my friend. I vowed years ago to get her out more… but Lucy is a stubborn little miss, and puts up a fight every time I try. “Aha! Here. These should fit you.” She said, handing me a pair of well-worn jeans. “Thanks.” Standing there, waiting for her to leave, I coughed to make it a bit more obvious. “Oh! Yes, sorry! I’ll let you change. Come out when you’re ready, coffee will be waiting for you.” She said, pulling that cute little smile of hers as she walked off, closing the bedroom door behind her. And just as I took off my coat and pulled down my wet pants so that they were around my ankles, the door burst open again. “Sorry when you…” Lucy stopped mid-sentence and her eyes widened in shock as she looked at me… whilst I was half dressed. “I umm…” I blushed, freezing in place. Her gaze fixated on my legs. “Wait…” “Can… I get a little privacy?” I blurted out. “I… oh… yeah… sorry… I was just… when you’re done, hang your coat up by the door and hand me your pants, I’ll shove them in the wash for you, ‘kay?” And there it was again, that cute smile of hers, making me feel at ease once again, despite her seeing me half naked. I mean… this wasn’t new, we lived together for a year… but still… “Okay. Thanks.” I replied. Lucy left me to get changed out of these wet jeans and into the ones she lent me. “Umm… here are… umm…” I said, nervously displaying my wet jeans to my best friend so that she could go and wash them. “Thanks. Have a seat, get comfy! Have a drink!” She said, taking the wet jeans in her fingers and holding them out away from her as she walked off to the kitchen, trying to hide her disgust at the sodden garment. Feeling ashamed for letting her do this for me, I sat down on her dark, leather sofa and picked up a plain white mug that was sitting on her coffee table. Looking down at the cup… something seemed… off. It didn’t look like a normal cuppa. “Umm… did you add milk to this?” I called out. “OH SHIT!” Lucy slammed a door in the kitchen and rushed back, grabbing the cup from my hand and pulling it away in a panic. “Are you okay? I don’t mind it without milk, it’s just…” “No, it’s okay… this… this isn’t yours…” “Oh…” She was already very defensive about her food and her drinks. She wouldn’t ever share, wouldn’t ever let anyone else prepare it for her… I thought she was just a bit… paranoid, but the fear in her eyes right now made me think something… something was up with her. “Lucy…?” “Umm… yeah?” She said, sipping at the cup she had grabbed. Taking the other cup, the one that had a much paler-looking fluid, I took a sip. “Are you okay? That was… rather…” “I umm… It’s okay. I just… this was mine.” “Okay… if you’re sure…” She nodded awkwardly, before sitting down on a chair across the coffee table from me. “Do you want the TV on?” She asked. “It’s okay for now…” I replied. “How about…” I sighed, before putting my cup down on my lap, holding it with both hands. “Go on… you want to ask… do it…” I said, interrupting her. She closed her eyes for a second and took a deep breath. “Okay… how the fuck are you alive? We all saw…” “You didn’t. You didn’t go to the funeral.” I interrupted her. Clearly this was an issue I had without realising it was actually an issue, and I was apparently taking it out on her now. “I… wait, how do you know? Did you fake your own death?” “No… I…” “No…” She interrupted, as if she was figuring something out, “Wait… the scars… the funeral… oh for fucks sake…” “What?” I asked, confused by her sudden change in reaction. “Don’t say Beth brought you back.” Lucy rolled her eyes and exhaled. “Wait… WHAT? YOU KNEW THAT ABOUT HER?” I yelled. “SHE ACTUALLY DID IT?” Lucy yelled back. “Of course she does… romantic fucking idiot… fucking Witches…” “YOU KNOW WITCHES EXIST?” “Oh Susie…” “Right…” I said, putting my cup down on the coffee table. “What the hell do you know about all this?” “First… Tell me everything that happened.” Lucy said, pulling up her legs so that she was sitting cross-legged on the chair, her cup nestled in between her hands as she sipped slowly. “Fine. So…” “So you found out your girlfriend is into some kinky shit, that she’s also a Witch and can cast magic spells, and then you overreact and leave, only to end up in an accident and die?” Lucy had a way of summarising things. “I wouldn’t say I overreacted…” I groaned. “I understand feeling betrayed… but you stormed out without even listening to her.” “I…” “And then she resurrects you…” “And then some stuff happened.” I butted in. “What stuff?” I had opted to skip the whole ‘adult baby’ thing in my tale, instead referring to it as ‘kinky shit’. But now we were up to the utterly obedient baby slave part… and I struggled to think how I could put it in words that didn’t reveal what I’ve been doing for the past three weeks. “I… just…” “Fine, whatever, don’t tell me. Just… so this was three weeks ago?” She asked. “Yeah. I was… utterly devoted to Beth. I would have done anything for her.” I said, figuring that was the best way to put it. “And what happened to break that?” “Death.” “Haha… oh… wait… you’re serious.” She turned pale…r, and her face dropped. Like she had just been told something seriously bad. “Yeah. THE Death. Actual Death. Grim Reaper and all that.” “And they… let me guess, they’re pissed at your girlfriend taking you from them?” “Yup. Broke whatever spell was cast on me, and then… I ran. They banished Death temporarily and I bolted.” “Did you not talk to them about all this?” “NO! OF COURSE NOT! They kept me as a…” “As a what?” Lucy’s eyebrow raised. “Just… a slave. No. I can’t go back to them.” Lucy got up from her seat, putting her empty cup on the coffee table, before walking around it, sitting next to me. Pulling her legs up again, sitting cross-legged, facing me… she grabbed both my hands with hers and pulled gently, signalling me to do the same. Sighing, I turned around, just like we used to back in our room, and looked her in the eyes. “Susie… look… I know this is scary… but it’s gonna be okay.” “But… you knew? You knew she was a Witch this whole time? That magic was real?” “Suze… this isn’t new to me. In fact… I’ve been used to it for a very looong time…” She put a lot of emphasis on the ‘long’ part of her sentence. “Huh?” “So… what do you know?” Lucy asked with a straight face. “About what?” “Magic. Witches. All that.” “Wait… ‘all that’? You mean there’s more?” I asked. “You know all those old stories? The ones in fairytales and old books? Monsters and magic?” “No… you can’t be serious?” “I’m afraid so. All real. Well… most of it.” “So… werewolves?” “Real.” “Witches.” “Obviously real, you’ve seen two of them.” “...The undead?” “Well… clearly. Though your specific type of undeath is rare. Haven’t seen or heard of a necromancer in… well… a very long time. I thought it was a dying art… excuse the pun.” Lucy tried her best to keep her laughter in check. “Vampires?” That’s when Lucy pointed to her cup. “Huh?” I said, before she nodded her head towards it, obviously trying to make me look closer. Reaching over it, looking inside… it was… stained red? But coffee doesn’t stain re…” I looked up at her, the pieces fitting into place. The clothes. The nighttime activity. The sensitivity to the sun. Being defensive when it comes to her food. It all made sense. And as I looked up, she smiled at me with that cute little face of hers… with her fangs on full display. ======================================================== 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!

Bedtimes were the worst. Eleanor knew this to be fact, as she stared up at the clock that hung on the pastel pink walls of her nursery. The cartoon cat on the wall was almost taunting her with its Cheshire smile, as its eyes swayed back and forth with every ticking second. While the cat did not mind having the hours of the day plastered on its belly, Eleanor felt her gut sink as she saw the time. Seven-thirty. Bedtime was upon her. The fact that this disturbed her so much only fueled her further shame. She was a grown woman. She was! Even if everything surrounding her tried to prove the opposite. There was her room, drowned in pastel colors from the striped walls to the fluffy pink carpet. There was her toy chest, filled with plushies and blocks and other juvenile excuses for entertainment. There was her closet, ready to burst with humiliating outfits. Everything from rompers to onesies to overalls to frilly dresses that belong on baby dolls. Nothing she wore allowed any sense of maturity. Nothing at all… Eleanor kicked her splayed legs in frustration, causing a chorus of crinkles to erupt from her undergarments. There were diapers. The ones she was forced to wear at all hours of the day. The ones that puff out with an obvious silhouette. The ones that managed to peek under every skirt, giving the whole world a sneak preview of her underwear. But that wasn’t right. Calling them underwear would be an insult to real underwear. But real underwear was off limits, so Eleanor had to settle for the poofy imitations. Every day, from sunrise to bedtime. Eleanor’s blood turned to ice as she heard the door creak open. “Elly baby!” A booming and carefree voice sang, “It’s beddy-bye time! Let’s get you changed and ready for your trip to dreamland.” It was Mommy. The giant woman who was responsible for her new life. She had a real name. It just wasn’t one Eleanor was allowed to use. Many punishment sessions made that abundantly clear. She was so commanding. So dominant. So mature. She was all these things, and she hid it very well. Behind the veil of a sweet, innocent homemaker. Eleanor had not known what she had done to deserve to cross this woman’s path. In truth, there was no greater reason than fulfilling her desires. Elly was like a rare doll at a flea market. A little treasure too cute to pass up. So that’s what Mommy did. She took her. Far away from the troubles of her adult life. To be fawned over, like other countless Littles. By the Amazons. What other outcome was there? They were bigger, smarter, and had so much love to give. Amazons could not help but target these affections to Littles. Mommy came into Eleanor’s life, smothered her with all the love she never asked for. And she did it all with a smile on her face. Mommy was already well dressed for bedtime. Curlers rolled through her blonde locks. A soft pink nightgown that hugged her generous proportions. She looked ready to down a cup of chamomile tea and drift off herself. Now, seven-thirty was too early a bedtime for most grown-ups. Eleanor knew that, from back when she considered herself part of the same flock. Days when she was overworked and found herself crashing asleep on the couch right around five. Days long past her now. Maybe Mommy was having one of those days herself. Elly had no business in knowing, or in asking. “But Mommy, I’m not tired yet. Can I please stay up just a little bit longer?” Eleanor pouted her lips and looked up toward the mountain of a woman with her best pair of babydoll eyes. It was a weak gambit, she knew that. Eleanor was only delaying the inevitable. The gambit was more for Eleanor than anyone else. Eleanor wanted to prove that she still had some fight left in her. Even after the countless spankings, hours in corner-time, and mouthfuls of castor oil, she still had some fight left in her. Mommy shook her head and wagged a finger. “Uh-uh. We don’t want a cranky wee one on our hands.” Her tone stayed cheery, but Eleanor knew that her words were final and absolute. “But Mommy, I really—Mmmph!” Her protests were cut short as she was met with the familiar taste of a pacifier bulb. The rubber invader inflated and expanded in Eleanor’s mouth, ensuring that it could only be removed by a grown-up—a status Mommy had revoked from Eleanor long ago. “It sounds like my little girl has a lot of big ideas today.” Mommy chided, her tone becoming much firmer, “But bedtime cannot be pushed back any further. So, she will just have to keep them to herself until morning.” Elanor sunk her head, now swiftly defeated. She allowed herself to be lifted and cradled by the giant woman. Eleanor was the Little, after all. There was no strategy in the world that would help someone of her stature trounce an Amazon. None that yielded results, other than being scolded and having one’s bottom swatted repeatedly. However, any late-night randevu would not be complete with a quick visit to the changing table. The Amazon laid Eleanor on her back and prodded at the girl’s soggy padding. “Looks like someone had a run-in with the sog-monster,” Mommy giggled, a dainty hand clasped over her mouth. Eleanor could only lie back and blush. Teasing was customary, and never once did it not feel demoralizing. As Mommy finished assembling the changing supplies, Eleanor looked up and came face-to-face with a crinkling adversary. To call the diaper thick would be an understatement. It was a monstrous brick of fluff. The deep blue color was matched with designs of crescent moons and cartoon whales. A very appropriate design choice, as the thing looked prepared to soak up an ocean. The padding effectively stated that Mommy’s expectations of a dry night from her Little were as low as possible. Were a fairy tale, just like the ones she sometimes read to Elleanor before bed. There was simply nothing she could do. With expert aim, the beastly padding dove straight under Elanor’s bum. Her legs were dropped, and she rested on the impossibly soft surface below. Before she could even protest (with a pacifier-filtered scream), her nether region was cloaked in a cloud of powder. Any nasty smells that made their way into her diaper would be overpowered by scents of sweet vanilla. One of Mommy’s giant hands got to work, and liberally rubbed the powder in. Along with a heap of anti-rash cream, which had proved quite effective in the past. Sticky tapes scrunched and were pulled together, sealing the colossal padding. Eleanor felt her gait spread as the diaper closed, her movement now greatly hindered. Even rolling herself over would be a true test of strength. “Much better. Mommy knows how much her baby loves a nice, dry diaper.” The Amazon said, smiling softly. Was she truly innocent and well-meaning or did the act of controlling the smaller woman give or a sadistic sense of joy? Eleanor had no way of knowing, and neither theory gave her closure. “It’s going to be warm tonight, so we will skip over the jammies for tonight.” Mommy wormed off all for the little one’s evening wear, leaving Elly exposed completely, save for her padded privates. Of course. Babies did not care much for modesty, right? Eleanor was not averse to sleeping topless. But when that call was being made by another woman who did not even see her as grown, it became more humiliating than liberating. Even with her chest exposed to the elements, she felt less like an adult, and more like a hapless toddler. The crinkly mass on her butt and the rubber nipple in her mouth made it all too obvious. As they approached the gigantic crib, with its high bars and taunting mobile, Eleanor felt a bead of sweat run down her head. It was okay, she was a trooper. She had nothing to worry about. There was nothing she needed to feel guilty about. Eleanor had been on her best behavior. She hadn’t gotten into any trouble. She kept most of her backtalk to herself. She gave none of the other Amazons in the neighborhood a reason to complain. She had earned a quiet night. Did Mommy see that? It was the only question that truly mattered. The bulb in Elly’s pacifier was deflated, allowing her to suckle of her own volition. She set her Little down in the crib, the smile on her giant face never wavering. “Well, I believe someone has had a very busy day.” The Amazon narrated; her voice sounding almost melodic. “I know you’ve had a rough time adjusting to everything, but I believe we are over the hill now.” The Amazon paused, as if she could feel the intensity of Elly’s worries and wanted to savor every second. “That said, there is still room for improvement. But that’s okay. I love you and I know you are trying your best. I just need to give you a push in the proper direction.” Mommy clicked the mobile on, allowing it to spin to life. The mobile’s trinkets spun in a lazy stir, glowed like stars in a plastic planetarium. A dull and warn lullaby played on, being the perfect soundtrack to Elly’s growing fear. “This should help you sleep better. I know how much my Elly baby loves this song.” Those were the last words Mommy said, before leaving Elly to deal with her long night. They had to be taunting her, Elly figured. The dull plastic trinkets that spun on the mobile strings. The fat bumblebee and the ladybug smiled high above the helpless Little. The rocket ship rocked on towards the crescent moon, reminding Elly every night of how trapped she was. Every night. But the nights when the mobile sang were the worst. Every night, whenever that song played, Eleanor would lose something. A little bit of focus. A little bit of coordination and memory. A small piece of herself. A small piece of control. Small enough not to notice, until it was too late. Her mind was being toyed with, but she was told she was simply going through big changes. The Amazon saw only an improvement. Not growing up, only growing down. The note was coming, she knew it. “I can do this.” Elly thought, although even she was doubting herself. It was a war of attrition. She had to ration out her willpower, her reminders that she could still have an adult life to return to. But her reserves were running dry, and Mommy had so much more endurance. Amazons were built for endurance, for putting up with fussy mouths and wiping away teary eyes and swatting naughty bottoms until their hands had calluses. The lullaby was halfway through now. “I can do this. I am a grown woman.” She repeated the anthem in her head countless times. All the mental encouragement she could muster did not change the fact that she was suckling on her pacifier like a madwoman with an oral fixation. It did not change the fact that she was stuck in a crib, with only a diaper to cover herself, because the lady that clothes her and feeds her and changes her said so. She wanted to believe it. She needed to believe it. She needed to believe it and hold out for something. Hold out for what? “Hold out for what?” Her least favorite verse was about to play. What was she even holding out for anymore? For help to come. It was an idea yet to be stolen from her. The idea, at its core, was laughable. How many Littles were waiting for the same thing? How many had their prayers answer? The odds were stacked against her, higher than the bars of her crib. She was holding out for herself. But that was laughable as well. Elly’s views were, to simplify matters, at odds with reality. How did Elly view herself? A trapped young woman, with everything to lose? But how did Mommy see her? Baby. How did the daycare workers see her? How did the doctors and nurses and general population see her? Baby. Was it time to call it quits? Elly wasn’t getting any older. “But…I’m not a baby?” First came the high note. How did babies act? Did they whine and fuss when things did not go their way? Did they go on stroller rides during the day, play in the sandbox during and after school? Did they wait for bigger, more mature people to change their diapers, because they couldn’t use the bathroom for one reason or another? What goal was Elly working towards, anyway? She certainly was not on the road of adulthood, given her current track record. But the road paved to be Mommy’s baby? She was steadily on track. “N-no! I can’t be a baby! I need to go! I need to go home! I need—” Then came the low note. The impact was immediate. A torrent of warm mush rushed to the back of her diaper. There was no control, no stopping. All Elly could do was lie on her stomach and support the effort. Elly’s face scrunched up into a look of concentration and despair—a phenomenon that Mommy identified as “potty face”. Elly had to be grateful she was wearing a diaper of such thickness, because she was soundly putting it to the test tonight. The stinky muck caused the diaper to sag and strain for all its worth. As her nightly messing came to a halt, the divide between the strong, confident adult, and the whimpering tot in a crib could not be more obvious. The proof was in the padding. For Elly, like any other baby, any other Little, the next course of action was instinctual. “WWWWWAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!!!!! MMMMAAAAAAAAAAMMMMMAAAAAA!!!!!!!!” It was the tell-tale crying of any helpless Little in dire need of a diaper change. Elly finally figured out what she needed, screaming it to high heavens. Luckily, Elly’s baby monitor was on standby, and the call was answered by her favorite listener. “Calm down, calm down. Mommy’s here, Elly-darling! Let me dry those tears.” Mommy sauntered through the door, as sweet and caring and innocent as ever. She clicked the mobile off and picked the flailing, wailing Little. Mommy gave an exaggerated sniff and an overdramatic gasp. “Oh dear! Did the baby make a boom-boom during bedtime? Shh, it’s okay. Mommy will have a fresh diaper on your mushy-tushy in no time.” Mommy reassured, completely undisturbed. Mommy knew that cleaning Elly’s stinky butt came with the territory. Trips to the changing table were a worthy price to pay to have such a precious little girl. “Pee-yew! That is one yucky diaper!” Mommy exclaimed, fanning a hand as she peeled back the tapes of her little one’s poopy diaper, rekindling Elly’s sobs. “Aww, don’t cry, Elly-sweetie. It is perfectly natural for babies to go potty in their pampers. Although, this certainly puts an end to our potty-training arguments, doesn’t it?” She chuckled, and continued the process of changing Elly’s diaper, business as usual. “It’s a good thing we didn’t listen to you and try to get a training potty. It would have been a complete waste of money! Yes it would, yes it would!” The giant woman wiped her hands and tickled the broken girl on her tummy, converting the sobs to giggles. That was how babies acted, after all. Crying one moment and cooing the next. It was a sweet moment between the pair—just the kind that Mommy had been vying so long for. The kind that she knew her, and Elly’s future, would be full of. The woman finished securing a fresh diaper on her baby, happy to see her in a better mood, nuzzling her closely. “Such a good baby! Now, how about a special snack before you head back to dreamland?” Elly nodded, like any sweet little baby would. The kind that suckles on pacifiers because they don’t want to stop. The kind that has big nightly accidents in their diapers and are helpless to change them. The kind that existed in countless homes the world over, waiting for Mommy and Daddy to swoop in and save them. Mommy sat down to give Elly her big special snack. It didn’t take long for her to latch onto it. She was a natural. The Amazon could only smile, satisfied. While a training potty would have been a clear waste of money, the breast pump she bought on sale would no doubt see much use in the future. Elly’s second wind was short lived, however. The Little had fallen to sleep before even reaching the second nipple. This quick meal would ensure that Elly’s second diaper would turn soggy during the night. No issue, neither party would be bothered by this. Elly was a baby now, having no right or sense to mind either way. Mommy was Mommy. She got exactly what she wanted, and nothing was going to change that. So much progress was made in one night. Bedtimes were going to be much easier in the future. *** Elly clacked her dolls together, making kissy sounds with her mouth. Prince Piggly and Ms. Dotty were supposed to be married, but Elly still needed to give them an extra push. Bedtime was surely approaching and spent all day getting every toy ready for the ceremony. She couldn’t really tell how soon Mommy would be here to stop her fun, but she had a feeling. Grown-ups apparently had something called “clocks” to tell them what time was. She knew she had one in her room, and even tried asking the wall-kitty with numbers on its belly for advice. No such luck so far. The door creaked open, and Elly whipped her head around instinctually. “Elly-baby!” Mommy sang, smiling brightly, “It’s beddy-bye time! Who’s ready for a trip to dreamland?” “I am!” Elly proudly announced, her arms outstretched, begging to be hoisted high into the air. Of course she was ready! The sudden and timely appearance of her beloved Mommy instantly made any other possible reaction vanish. “Upsies, upsies!” “Alright, alright. Come here, you little bossy britches.” Mommy lifted the eager girl, landing a big smooch on the cheek of her giggling Little. Her nose wiggled, before pressing a hand on Elly’s drooping diaper. “Just as I thought. Absolutely soaked. Baby can’t go to bed with a soggy pamper on, no ma’am!” Truthfully, Elly had no way of telling. One minute, she would be playing or eating or watching cartoons. The next, she would on her back, getting her undies torn off and replaced, before returning to business as usual. The only difference was that Mommy brought out the big guns for bedtime. The thick nighttime diaper still spread Elly’s legs out wide, but she had plenty of time to adjust. Cumbersome for playtime, but perfectly acceptable for napping. “It’s supposed to be quite chilly tonight. Winter sure did creep up on us.” Mommy thought aloud, while Elly was content to suckle on her thumb. Soon enough, Elly was dressed up in a soft pink footed sleeper. The buttons on the backdoor strained against the heavy-duty diaper but would hopefully last the night. Mommy descended Elly into her crib, leaving her with a kiss on the forehead. “Good night, my perfect little angel. Sleep well.” Before leaving, Mommy lit up the mobile, but chose not to turn the sound on. Her baby was already perfect at falling soundly asleep. Elly didn’t need more instruction than that. She turned over onto her stomach, still suckling away at her thumb, and let sleep soon overtake her. There was one more pressing order of business, however, before Elly could sleep comfortably. One, just like playtime, that required a Little’s push, which she was happy to provide. A wave of mush made way into Elly’s diaper. It hadn’t even been ten minutes since she left the changing table, but this Little had no sense of time anyway. While the diaper was holding up fine, the sleeper’s limits were being pushed until finally— *POP* *POP* The sleeper’s rear flap popped open, letting the loaded diaper sag and hang freely. As the full diaper settled, Elly let out a sigh of relief, and resumed suckling her thumb before drifting off to sleep. There was no fussing, no fighting. No need for punishment or auditory adjustments. Just a happy baby girl, sleeping in her crib. Just the way her mommy had envisioned. Everything was alright now. Being in diapers was no big deal. Being a baby was no big deal. Bedtimes were no big deal.

Chapter 2 I should really stop day drinking I think. It had been a couple weeks since I peed in Alix’s bed and subsequently got put into her niece’s teenage pull-ups (replete with owls at that) which…oddly may or may not have led to a mind blowing sexcapade (was a hoot…get it? haha?) that whole afternoon…but that’s another story for another time… “Oh Jesus Christ Michael…again? Are you serious?” This afternoon we went day-drinking with Alix’s best friend Lauren to celebrate Lauren’s divorce. Plus it was one of the rare weekend Lauren didn't have her kids around, so she naturally took advantage of the situation, and joined us in...what began as drinking overly salty margaritas at 9AM and had devolved into a sort of slovenly, disheveled mess by 3PM. I was “lit”, as the kids would say. I stirred out of my near-catatonic stupor. I had been slumped in a chair on Lauren’s pool deck after stumbling back from some shitty chain restaurant's "bar" up the street that served as a sort of coda on the festivities. My BAC must have been about .7. I looked up to see Alix with her hands on her hips and a look of sort of bewildered disgust…and then looked down to see that my khaki shorts were visibly soaked with the damage emanating from the crotch. “Fuck…what am I going to do with you? This is the 2nd time lately…you're like a fucking child...I swear." She shook her head. "C'mon...get up. God damn it, we’re going to have to leave now. I wanted to stay here too. I swear to god…just, come on get up!”. It was kind of hot when she got like this. When she got pissed or annoyed enough and turned into a total mom. In varying degrees, of course. This was on the heavy end, though, as she grabbed my wrist and pulled me up out of the seat and began walking me toward the house. The sliding glass door opened as we were walking to the house and Lauren came out, seemingly oblivious to the unfolding shitshow, carrying a Heineken. “Hey Alix…wanted to ask…” Lauren strutted out. Alix popped her buzzy bubble. "Lauren, sweetie, we have a problem here…we’re going to have to leave.” “What the fuck? Why? What happened?” She looked shocked. “He pissed himself.” Alix sighed, seeming exasperated. “He smells like piss. We need to get him home. I’m sorry.” “Oh…” she looked down at my soaked embarrassment. “Oh…I see…well, really, you don’t have to leave.” “I mean really, Lauren, look at this…what are we going to do?” “I mean, I have a washer and dryer, just have him take off his pissy clothing…and we’ll wash it.” “Ok but then what? He has no other clothes. I didn’t know ‘Mikey’ here has pissy problems when I started dating him…so we don’t really deal with those things. Plus I don’t really want him pissing on your furniture.” “I don’t have ‘pissy problems.” I interjected. They both looked at me for a second, and laughed. “Right…” Alix nodded, her Valley Girl accent more exaggerated than usual. “I have a diaper,” Lauren interjected. “It might fit.” They talked as if I wasn’t there. I felt about 3. So I had an outburst. “No,” I said. “No, Alix, I’m not wearing a diaper. Let’s just go.” Alix glared at me. “I don’t really want to leave. And you’re in no condition to drive anyway,” she chuckled. “Maybe you could walk…you’d look great walking home with pissed khakis.” She continued to laugh. “Do you want that?” “No,” I said. “But I don’t want a diaper. I don’t need one.” “You pissed the couch the other day and now you pissed yourself again. We’re at least going to try and see if it fits…besides…if you’re a good boy…there could be fun later on.” I was a sucker for large breasts. And I was a reasonable person. So I ended my campaign. Besides. It probably wouldn’t fit. Lauren came back out with what looked like a large child’s diaper, baby wipes and a blanket. “Here,” she said. “I’ll help.” I stood to the side, feeling like an observer. Lauren spread the blanket out while Alix unfolded the diaper. “Where did this come from?” Alix asked. “I thought Maddy was out of diapers forever ago?” Lauren laughed, “God no, well in the day I guess, yeah, forever ago…but totally? like, maybe uh…like maybe as of a month ago.” Alix kind of looked stunned as she knelt down. “Wow…” she mused, she patted the blanket.“Michael, lie down,” she instructed me, without missing a beat. Lauren continued rambling as I complied with the instruction. I wasn’t part of this conversation. Adults were talking. “We finally got over the nighttime incidents…I mean, like..she still has wet nights so I keep these around in case it like, ever totally regresses…but so far so good. These are Size 7, I think…so it might work” “Oh,” Alix said. “I mean, you know Allison’s daughter, Aspen right? She still wears diapers at night, and she’s 16, so I mean honestly you got out pretty easy.” Lauren laughed and shook her head. “Wow…oh my god…wow…. Not sure what I’d do if Maddy was still in diapers at 16,” she shook her head. “Poor girl.” Alix sighed existentially, “Yeah, I feel so bad for her. Terrible really. She’s so self-conscious but she shouldn’t be….but…” Her sort of existential sign, turned to a grin, “But…on a positive, her pull-ups came in handy the other day when pissy pants here had an accident…he didn’t throw a fit then when he had to wear them then.” Lauren laughed. “Oh my god…the pink ones? That’s…adorable!” Alix laughed, “I think they had an owl on them…he was so cute.” They both continued to laugh and make small talk as I laid on the blanket in my piss soaked shorts. Finally, after what seemed like eons, Alix, unbuttoned my shorts, and grabbed me by my ankles and sort of lifted the shorts off. After a thorough wiping, she took the unfolded diaper, lifted me up by my ankles like I was some kind of overgrown toddler, and slid the surprisingly large child’s diaper underneath me. She held it in place as the stretchy sides fit the front of it. “Holy shit,” Lauren laughed. “Is it actually going to fit?” “Looks like it,” Alix said, “Stand up..” she patted my now diapered crotch. “Holy shit!” Lauren burst out, “Holy shit!” “You’re adorable.” she mused. “Fucking adorable.” This was embarrassing. But I was still half smashed, so honestly, I was over it forever ago. I yawned. “Are you tired? You should take a nap. You need one.” she said “You can sleep in Maddy’s room.” “Yeah honey, I think you need one. And besides,” Alix nodded in agreement, smiling as she patted my butt, “you’re wearing protection.” I wasn’t going to complain. She held my hand and I got led into Maddy’s room, I climbed up into the bed, which crinkled from quite clearly a plastic sheet, and slid under the blanket. Alix started to walk out, I let out a whine. “Do you want cuddles before you nap?” She asked. I nodded. “Please?” At least some consolation out of this whole fiasco. She grinned, “One sec, honey, I’ll be right back.” I laid on the bed. Sort of in a haze. Alix returned and shut the door. She slid into the bed and became the big spoon. I nuzzled into her breasts. She rubbed my back, sliding her hand up and down, from the shoulder line to the diaper line, as I passed out, relieved the episode was over at least for the time being.

Hi there, Long time silent follower and reader of the stories on this site. Had been thinking of writing a story of my own for a while now and the backtoschool competition gave me the motivation I needed. I envision this as being the first part of a three or four part story so not all of the context is provided at the beginning however let me assure you that the characters mentioned are eighteen years of age and older. Further background to the school and its students will be explored in later instalments. Hope you all enjoy! Mount Usher Reform School Jesse Wilson fidgeted as discreetly as she could at her desk. She desperately needed to use the bathroom and wanted nothing more than to run out of the lesson and relieve herself. However, students were not permitted to use the bathroom during class time at Mount Usher Reform School. Gently, shaking her right leg to distract from her ever-growing discomfort in her bladder and bowels Jesse contemplated her options. There was still thirty-five minutes left until the bell and she did not think she was going to be able to hold it until then so she had figured she had three choices. First, she could try to get up and leave. The problem with this however was that the six Classroom Disciplinarians standing around the edges of the classroom were watching all of her classmates intensely, searching for any signs of misconduct, and if she tried anything she knew she would be down the back of the class over their knee before she could even open her mouth to plead her case. A spanking such as those delivered by the Disciplinarians was no small thing to endure and Jesse suspected, the way she was at the moment, it was likely it would result in her having an accident. No, she thought, there was no way she could leave without disaster ensuing. Even now, she had to be careful her less-than-full attention on the lesson did not give the Disciplinarians cause to punish her. Sparing a moment to focus on the board and what Ms. Smyth was saying she was glad at least that this emergency was occurring during Maths, which came easy to her, and she was confident would be able to answer any question without difficulty if called upon. Returning to considering her problem Jesse thought that her second choice was to just attempt to hold it regardless and hope that she would be able to make it despite how badly she felt she needed to go. It was possible she thought that if she could just keep her mind off things she may manage to get through the rest of the class. The only problem with this of course was if she was wrong and soiled herself. Not only would she be humiliated in front of all her peers and the school staff, it would bring her to the attention of the sixth Classroom Disciplinarian the so called “Potty Patrolman”. Toileting problems of any kind fell under the Potty Patrolman’s remit and once that happened it was an inevitable and demeaning return to fulltime diapers. In her one and a half years so far at Mount Usher it did not matter what reason or circumstance might have led to you having an accident – whether it was an illness, bedwetting, a prank, an oversight when wiping - the moment your school approved panties were any less than pristine at the 8am and 8pm inspections you were done for. Even now as Jesse feigned attention to the lesson she could see her friend and former roommate Hazel in the front or “Toddler” row with two other girls. A simple mishap with some orange juice and now she was strapped into a highchair styled chair, though at normal height, sucking a pacifier and wearing a onesie and thick diaper – the uniform for those at toddler level. No, Jesse shook gently shook her head, she could not risk an accident of any kind, let alone a messy one, if she were to retain what little independence, she had at the Reform School. This she knew left her with a final but almost similarly inconceivable choice. Although, it was made clear to the girls that they were not allowed to leave to go to the bathroom during class and all requests to do so would be denied and ignored, if it was an emergency, they could ask to use the class potty. This was a bright yellow, child’s potty with a smiling clown face, sized for adults located in its own demarcated “Potty Zone”. The rules stated that it could be used during class up to three times in one week before you would be placed under the care of the Potty Patrolman. The only problem was that the Potty Zone was in full view of the staff and students since it consisted only of a small plinth to the side of the classroom, upon which the potty sat, and a named sign which hung on the wall behind it. The logic of the Potty Zone being that the student was not really missing class if they used it no matter how long they took since they could keep following the lesson even as they went. Thinking it through Jesse knew what she had to do. Although it would certainly be mortifying for her, she was going to have to ask to use the classroom potty. It was rare enough that any of the girls took this option because of its nature, even just for peeing, so the fact Jesse was going to use it for both number one and two would be the talk of the school for a couple of days. However, she told herself that although no one was likely to completely forget the memory, at least she would not be moved down a level, and her experience would be overlooked once someone else had been embarrassed by the Reform School. Waiting until Ms. Smyth came to a natural rest in her explanation, Jesse raised her hand. Despite the anxiety and dread she was feeling over what she had decided to inflict on herself she was glad she was mature enough to make the decision. Already it was clear that a few of her silent but deadly toots had attracted the attention of the Patrolman’s two aids who were sniffing about and looking in the direction of the Toddler and Pre-schooler rows. After a few moments Ms. Smyth noticed Jesse’s hand and called on her. “Yes Ms. Wilson, do you have a question about the lesson?” “No Miss” Jesse replied with only a slight tremble in her voice. “I wanted to ask if I may use the potty? It is an emergency”. Hearing this, Jesse felt as though the classroom came to a complete halt and now everyone’s eyes and attention was focused solely on her. Her anxiety instantly went up a notch and she could feel her cheeks going red. “Really now” Ms. Smyth said grinning like a Cheshire cat and throwing knowing glances to the Classroom Disciplinarians and Patrolman’s Aids. “Well, I suppose …” she started and then paused as though considering things while Jesse waited in desperation “I suppose you may since it is not like you to try and waste class time, and since you stated it is urgent, if, you have been paying attention. Before you go tell me what is the answer to the following problem on the board?” she said pointing to a particular question. Jesses looked at the problem. It read: Solve for X: 3x+7=22 Thankfully it seemed easy enough to her. Jesse replied “Em… the answer is X is equal to five Miss”. Hearing her answer Ms. Smyth frowned for a moment making Jesse even more anxious and distressed. She was desperately trying not to fart or let anything out to prevent herself from embarrassing herself further than what was necessary. Eventually however Miss Smyth said “That is correct. How did you get the answer?” Rapidly, Jesse replied “To isolate X I subtracted seven from both sides. That left me with 3X is equal to fifteen, then I divided both sides by three to get X is equal to five.” Seeming satisfied then Ms. Smyth said “Yes, well done that is correct answer and solution. For those of you who are struggling… I am looking at you in particular Ms. Robinson” eyeing one particular girl in the second row “take note, as similar questions will be on the test on Friday”. “Now Jesse” she said motioning one of the Potty Aids “you can go and Mrs. King will help you. Everybody else begin working on problems three to fifteen in your textbooks. I do not need to remind you that the Disciplinarians will be watching to make sure no one is daydreaming or slacking off.” Having heard Miss Smyth’s words every one of their classmates turned to their books and copies with an exaggerated fervour all determined not to be punished, however Jesse knew each of them would be attentively following her shameful performance in a few moments out of the corner of their eyes. After all she would have done the same. Who and how someone was punished or humiliated was top gossip among the students at Mount Usher. Jesse waited until the old but fierce Mrs. King proffered her hand before standing, gently taking her hand in turn and allowing herself to be led to the Potty Zone. Instead, of taking the shortest path through the rows, Mrs. King brought her to the opposite side of the rectangular classroom, up the aisle to the top of the class and then finally back down the other side to her destination. Thankfully Jesse still had the presence of mind to watch out for other student’s feet up at the Toddler row who attempted to trip her in a bid to make her have an accident – misery loves company. Mrs. King stood Jesse on the plinth in front of the potty and then began to undo her skirt which she removed after checking it and placing it to one side. She then pulled down Jesse’s underwear and had her step out of them so that she was naked from the waste down but for her shoes and ankle socks. Once she had fully inspected Jesse’s panties for any sign of accident, she placed them on top of the skirt and then taking Jesse’s hand once more directed her bottom down onto the potty – and not a moment too soon. Jesse had practically been doing the potty dance while Mrs. King was going through the proceedings. Looking up at Mrs. King, the older woman finally said “alright Jesse try going to the potty like a big girl”. This was all the encouragement Jesse needed and having been given permission she proceeded to noisily empty her bowels and then bladder into the plastic container. A great squelching noise could be heard by all as her poo hit the bottom of the potty and then a loud hissing noise. Such was her relief that in spite of herself Jesses could not help but release a sigh as this happened. It was only as she was letting out a final few small but very audible farts that seemed to resound within the hollow potty that Jesse began to feel embarrassment over what she had just done. At first, as she came back to herself, she became aware that she was half naked, sitting over her own filth, the smell of which was awful, and there was no toilet paper in sight for her to clean herself up. Then she realised that not only had Mrs. King been watching her the whole time but she could also see some grins from the Class Disciplinarians. Suddenly, she felt tremendously vulnerable and ashamed, and if she could have hidden somewhere, anywhere she would have done so. It was only that Mrs. King was still gently holding her hand that she was prevented from running out the door and sobbing. Looking Jesse straight into her eyes which were beginning to look a bit lost as she receded into herself Mrs. King said “Well done, Jesse” as though she were congratulating a two-year-old who had just begun toilet training. “I bet that feels so much better having gotten that all out. Such a big girl making it to the potty on time!” Looking over to the Toddler and Pre-school rows before looking over to the teacher she said “There are a few potty pants who could take note here as well, isn’t that right Ms. Smyth. Ms. Wilson isn’t just good at maths, she’s also very good at using the potty, isn’t she?” “She certainly is Mrs. King. That was very well done. Exactly what a big girl should do when she needs to use the toilet” replied Ms. Smyth once again with a large grin on her face. Turning to Hazel in the front row, she said “I bet you wish you could be a big girl like your friend Ms. Wilson here, don’t you Ms. Fisher? Instead of being a silly little toddler who does all her pee-pee and poo-poo in her pampers.” Turning red at being singled out, Hazel squeaked behind her pacifier “Yeth, Mwis Swmyth”. “Well, maybe you’ll get there one day, but by the looks of your diaper not for a good long time yet. You have absolutely soaked it! You are quite the little super soaker aren’t you Ms. Fisher." Looking very ashamed and on the verge of tears Hazel said again “Yeths, Mwis Swmyth”. Although, it looked as though Ms. Smyth would keep berating poor Hazel or one of the other toddler girls, at her last comment, Jesse heard someone snigger from somewhere in one of the back rows which they quickly tried to turn into a cough. Unfortunately, for them once of the Classroom Disciplinarians caught them and dragged them up out of their desk by the wrist with an undignified yelp from the girl. Even as she still sat on the potty, Jesse could see that it was Margaret Carter who had been caught and knew from her demeanour that it was probably a nervous laugh she had let out rather than a malicious one. However, now Margaret had caught Ms. Smyth’s ire. “Is there you find funny Ms. Carter about a girl Ms. Fisher’s age still going to the bathroom in her pants?” Ms. Smyth asked giving Margaret a death stare. Jesse like all of the girls in the class knew that this was one of those questions with no right answer. If Margaret said yes then she would likely be given a lesson in empathy which could end in any manner of punishment. However, if she said no then she would be asked to explain why she was laughing and if she could not give a satisfactory answer be called a liar as well. Knowing she was trapped Margaret replied “Sorry Miss, I didn’t mean to laugh but I couldn’t help it. Super soaker is what my mother calls my two-year-old brother as well.” “So, you admit then” said Ms. Smyth “that you were laughing at Ms. Fisher”. “Yes, Ms Smyth” said Margaret hanging her head in shame. “And why did you try to conceal the truth by coughing?” asked Ms. Smyth “I, I didn’t mean to laugh at Ms. Fisher, I wasn’t trying to be mean Miss. It was just the word super soaker made me laugh so I tried to turn the laugh into a cough to hide it and also to try not to disrupt the class” Margaret replied hesitantly. “I see” said Ms. Smith. “Well even if that is the truth and you did not mean to offend Miss Fisher and disrupt my class, you have certainly done that, haven’t you…Haven’t You???” “Yes, Ms Smith. I am sorry Hazel I did not mean to laugh” she said turning to a still mortified Hazel, before turning back to Ms. Smith. “I am sorry Ms Smith for interrupting your class and wasting precious learning time”. “Good. I accept your apology” said Ms. Smyth “and I am sure Hazel does as well. I am glad you recognised your fault and you did not need me to tell you to apologise. That shows maturity. However, because I will not tolerate bullying of any sort in my classroom, even by accident, Mr. Moore is going to give you a sound spanking during recess this morning to ensure you do not do so again, even accidentally, and even when it is funny that a big girl like Ms Fisher is a super soaker. Do you understand and accept your punishment?” Margaret having gone pale knowing that she would not be able to sit down for a week after being paddled by Mr. Moore, otherwise known as Classroom Disciplinarian Number 4, said “Yes Miss. I understand and accept. I’m very sorry”. “Good, and I’m sure you will be very sorry indeed missy during recess! You are lucky though that you accepted your punishment so maturely. Next time I catch you laughing at anyone in my class you are going to have your bathroom privileges revoked and then we will see how funny you think it is being a super soaker yourself.” The whole class having just witnessed this discourse never looked busier to Jesse just then, who was still sitting, half- naked on the potty. “Now where were we” said Ms. Smyth turning back to Jesse and Mrs. King. Checking her watch Ms. Smyth said “there are only just under twenty minutes left in the lesson Mrs. King after dealing with all that silliness. If you could finish helping our potty superstar with her business and bring her back to her seat so that she can continue with the lesson I would appreciate it.” With that Ms. Smyth seemingly lost all interest in Jesse and began walking down the classroom rows, checking to see how much work the students had done so far. Jesse knew from experience that Ms. Smyth would find enough mistakes that there would be at least two or three spankings given out by the end of the lesson. Still out of sorts and feeling very exposed when Mrs King asked her, more quietly this time, if she was finished Jesse could only nod her head in assent. After that, she gently manoeuvred Jesse up off the potty and turned her to the side before forcing her to bend over. Mrs. King then produced a packet of Huggies Baby Wipes as though by magic and began wiping Jesse’s dirty bottom and genitalia before Jesse could even think to protest and ask to do it herself. After each wipe had been used Mrs. King made a point of showing it to Jesse and whispering things like “so dirty” or “disgusting” before throwing them into the potty. Once she had been cleaned to Mrs. Kings satisfaction, her school approved panties were then brought back and Jesse was asked to step into them. Mrs. King then drew them up Jesse’s legs pulling them up right to the top more tightly than necessary so that for a moment it almost seemed as though she were giving her a wedgie. She then had Jesse step into her skirt and tightened it for her, before patting her on the bum a couple of times and leading her all around the room and back to her chair. It was only as Jesse sat down, momentarily relieved despite being thoroughly humiliated she had managed to avoid total long-term disaster, that she realised something was wrong. Her panties felt a little bit damp and sticky under her bum where she was sitting. Jesse hoped it was only residual dampness from the baby wipes but she feared Mrs. King had deliberately failed to wipe her completely so that when she pulled the panties back up so tightly, they would be stained. Considering this new dilemma, Jesse looked on as the potty was being taken to be emptied by the other Potty Aid in the class. With the windows open and special air conditioner working overtime it would not be long until the potty smell would be gone from the classroom, unless of course one of the Toddler or Pre-school level students had a messy accident. If her soiled panties did not give off a potty smell, Jesse felt that it was possible this issue would go unnoticed until lunch when she could quickly swap her panties in her dorm room and wash her current pair by hand. However, she feared that for some reason Mrs. King was out to get her after what she had just done and she would make up some excuse for a panty inspection before then. Suddenly, it was looking all too likely to Jesse that all the indignities she had just put herself through may have been for nothing and there would be more to come soon. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

I have never had the funds necessary to make sure I have diapers around my birthday, as much as I wanted to. But this year... I'll be 49 next Friday and I have a whole bag and a half, so... Operation wake up wet on my birthday is in place and ready to... Um... Go.

I really agree for the most part we are in charge of our body. If it's not life threatening then we can say to the Dr I am gonna do something else, or get advice from a different Dr. I don't like the power that the pain management Dr's have over me or anyone , Mine will make changes for the most part when I say I don't want a drug, and change me to something else , within reason.

I'm in Ireland also... and I have a stone carving picture of the sun on the window. In the summer, the Irish go rusty.

Thanks everybody for your kind comments. When I was writing this I never considered it from a corrections officer perspective having no experience in that area myself, though perhaps its a good thing as sometimes reality can stall or hinder pure fantasy. Anyway here is part 2. Hope you enjoy it! Part Two When the bell signalling the end of Maths Class and the start of Recess rang, there were five students that had been found wanting by Ms. Smyth and handed over to the Classroom Disciplinarians along with Margaret for punishment. It was only down to Jesse’s natural ability and desire to prevent her soiled underwear from being exposed during a spanking that she found the motivation she needed to get her own work completed on time. Not looking at any of the other students, as she filed out of the classroom and made her way to the lunchroom just a few doors down, she briefly reflected on the circumstances that had brought her to Mount Usher. When she had been little Jesse remembered hearing about the school almost as though it were a myth. A reform school where girls from wealthy families were sent if they failed their final secondary school exams or did not get accepted into college. No one in their family circle really knew anything substantial about it then, but the idea that there was a place where girls could be sent to entirely repeat secondary school again at the age of eighteen sounded like the most horrific punishment imaginable. Her mother of course used to threaten to send her there when she older if she did not do well in school as a way to incentivise her study and do her homework. This worked for a time and though her older sister Val swore that her friend’s older cousin had been sent there and returned home a special needs case, as Jesse got older, she came to consider it to be a cautionary tale. Something that no doubt had at its heart a cornel of truth but in reality, had been exaggerated by parents beyond all recognition to bring their unruly daughters back into line. It came then as total surprise to Jesse that when she failed her A-Levels, due to partying and disinterest, that was exactly where she was sent. All her father had said to her as the Disciplinary Intake Team forcefully collected her, one morning shortly after her exam results came out, was that she would be humiliated the same way she had brought humiliation on the family. Hearing the thuds of paddles landing on bare bottoms and frantic sobs escaping from Margaret and the others as she walked, Jesse knew that her father had been completely honest with her that day. Though she tried not to think about what that meant and how angry he must have been to knowingly send her here. Entering the lunchroom, Jesse took her mandatory large cup of juice and midmorning snack, which today was a rice cake topped with cream cheese and a sliced tomato, from one of the Lunchroom Team. Looking around for a place to sit down she saw her friend Samantha motion that she had saved her a spot beside her at an empty table. Not looking forward to hearing her friend’s analysis of the morning’s embarrassing events but glad that someone was still willing to associate with her, Jesse went over to join her. She had little choice after all, Mrs. Taylor had checked her off for receiving her snack and now the Disciplinarians would closely monitor her to ensure she consumed all of it regardless of whether she liked the food or not. “Well,” said Samantha smiling, “that was a wild one. Are you okay?” “What do you think?” replied Jesse morosely. “I never imagined a situation where I could ever bring myself to use that stupid thing, let alone like that. I feel so disgusted with myself.” “Ah don’t worry about it. It was a bad one I’m not going to lie, but then that’s the goal of this place right, to humiliate and break us. We’ve all been there or will be there at some point. At least you didn’t have an accident. If you needed to go that badly, it was the best thing you could have done.” She said trying her best to comfort her friend. “I overheard a few of the girls joking about it on the way out of the classroom but I reckon that’ll die down quickly, it’s not like we haven’t seen a thousand scenes like it already. Try and focus on your work this afternoon to make sure you don’t get in trouble and put it out of your head”. “Thanks Sam” said Jesse feeling a bit better “you’re right, I’ll do my best. It just…” she began to whisper after looking around “I don’t think its over. I’m pretty sure Mrs. King didn’t wipe me properly before pulling my panties back up. I expect they’ll be stained and I’ll get an infraction at inspection tonight”. Samantha looked instantly annoyed “that mean old crone. She did that to Brittany a while back as well. Didn’t wipe her at all so it looked like she had a small pee accident. They never play by the rules in this place! Still, you don’t have any other infractions yet this month, do you?” “No, none…” Jesse replied before she noticed someone suddenly standing over her from behind. Looking up Jesse realised it was one of the Potty Aids and she had a look on her face as though she smelled something putrid. “If I am not mistaken there is a terrible potty smell lingering over here girls. Own up, which one of you went poopy in their knickers? I know that you are both big girls…” she said looking over both Samantha and Jesse “so you should be old enough to know when you have had an accident”. Terrified by this rapid turn of events neither girl said anything both slightly shaking their heads and lost for words. “Neither of you hmmm…” she said looking them both directly in the eye in turn, seeming to take a perverse pleasure in their anxiety. “Well, there is no one else here and I definitely smell something, my nose has never been wrong in all my years at Mount Usher, so either someone is fibbing or they are too much of a baby to know when they have a stinky bottom… Last chance now…” she said raising her voice so that it cut across the entirety of the small lunchroom. “Which one of you big girls has done something even very little girls know better than to do in their pants? Hmmm?” At that Jesse knew she had no choice other than to own up. It might not have been her fault that her underwear was stained but they undoubtedly must have been if this Potty Aid could smell them. As Jesse began to nervously reply she could already see Samantha edging away and making herself look as small as possible. Not that she blamed her. It seemed that Jesse was just a magnet for trouble today and there was no point in Samantha getting caught up in it as well. “I think its me Miss. I didn’t have an accident, I promise, but I don’t think Mrs. King fully wiped by bottom for me when I used the potty in class earlier. My panties felt a little bit dirty when I sat back down but since it was the end of the lesson, I haven’t had the chance to check them yet” “Oh ho ho” laughed the Potty Aid haughtily. “If I had a pound for every time some silly little girl tried to blame the state of their dirty pants on someone else, I would have been able to retire long ago. Besides I do not believe that my good friend Mrs. King, who is very competent in her work, would ever be capable of such an error. More likely young lady you did not realise that you still had more to do on the potty, hmmm… and got up before you had gotten everything out. You had probably only sat back down again when something more slipped out while you were focusing on your work. I see it time and time again. Well let’s assess the damage shall we.” The Potty Aid pulled the now shaking petite girl up out of her seat, ignoring her garbled protests and pushed her face into the table so that her rear was clearly on display. The rest of the lunchroom went still as this occurred as everyone who had not heard the previous interactions now took note of what was happening. No-one dared move even if they had not yet found a seat and the only sounds that could be heard was the ongoing spanking and sobbing carrying faintly from the classroom. Pulling back Jesse’s skirt the Potty Aid began to tut and say “Oh my, looks like my nose was right as usual. That is a very big brown stain on your good school panties little girl. Much too big to be skid marks like you were suggesting. It looks like you aren’t just a potty pants but a very naughty fibber as well. You have a lot of apologies to make after this disgraceful act let me tell you. Oh yes, you are going to have to apologise to the school for dirtying the lovely clean white panties they gave you. You are going to have to apologise to the poor washing staff who are going to have to spend so long trying to get these panties clean again after you soiled them so thoroughly. Yes…” she said pausing to look over them again “these are almost as bad as what some of the very little girls here do in their nappies. I expect they’ll have to be washed with them! You are also going to apologise to Mrs. King for telling such awful stories about her. To be frank I am seething on her behalf that you would even dream of suggesting such a thing about such a kind and caring woman. You are going to apologise to your teacher for not informing her that you had an accident in your pants during class. And… lastly, you are going to apologise to me for not just owning up properly in the first place and making me waste my precious time having to check you like a big baby. Now say you are sorry this instant!” With her face still hovering over the table and her dirty panties on display for her whole class Jesse was too terrified and ashamed to even try to stand up for herself. She blurted out “I’m sorry.” “Sorry for what” replied the Potty Aid sternly. “For not telling you I had an accident in my panties and making you check me like a… like a baby” Jesse cried, bursting into tears at the last part. “Good girl,” said the Potty Aid. “You still have a long way to go to make up for being so bold but we’re going to have a conversation now with the Potty Patrolman who will help set everything right”. The Potty Aid dropped Jesse’s skirt back down and then turning the girl around led her through the many students who had still yet to find a seat, before proceeding down the hall, and up the stairs to the Potty Patrolman’s Office. Initially Jesse’s body subconsciously tried to offer some token resistance as if it understood what her mind could not yet process, that their destination would be her ruin, but a few sharp smacks to the back of Jesse’s legs from the Potty Aid soon cut that out. Much to Jesse’s dismay the Potty Patrolman was in when the Potty Aid knocked on his door and he did not hide his annoyance at having his break interrupted. When he had heard the Potty Aids version of events, he quickly picked up his phone and summoned Jesse’s year head Ms. Linton to his office as well as Ms. Smyth, Mrs. King, and a representative of the school’s cleaning staff who was on duty that morning. Jesse could only quietly sob as she waited for them to arrive. She was told to stop crying by the Potty Patrolman who insisted that he would give her something to really cry about in a few minutes but she could not help herself. She just kept thinking that this was it. After eighteen months of surviving with a reduced but at least somewhat independent status, in spite of all Mount Usher’s ridiculous rules, she was going to be forced to become the special needs case her sister had gossiped about so long ago. She had never known what she wanted to be. She never thought that she needed to know, and would have the freedom to figure it out one day. Even when that freedom was delayed because of Mount Usher, she had assured herself that when she got out and was able to go to college, she would still lead a wonderful life as she was always meant to. Now, though she could see herself being sat beside Hazel in the toddler uniform beginning her apprenticeship over the next three and a half years into full time babyhood. She was finished. She would never be anything now. Never know what might have been. “Right” said the Potty Patrolman, bringing Jesse out of her melancholy and making her aware that the other staff members had arrived. “From what my Potty Aid Ms. Greaves has informed me, this big baby here having been too little to wait until recess to go to the bathroom, asked to go to the potty during class time. Likely being embarrassed by having to perform such a childish act in front of all her classmates due to her own lack of foresight and planning, she did not spend long enough going and rushed off the potty before she was completely finished. The result of this silliness was that she had a small messy accident in her pants some time in the few minutes that were left before the end of her maths lesson. Instead of acting with maturity and notifying the staff of her predicament like anyone with a bit of common sense, Ms. Wilson then proceeded to act like a toddler and walk around and sit in her mess until Ms. Greaves became aware of it and called her out. Subsequently, I am ashamed to say Mrs. King, after all the kind support you I’m told that you gave her when helping her to use the potty in her moment of need, Ms. Wilson tried to shift the blame for her silly actions and made up a tale about you not wiping her properly. I have called you all here now so that Ms. Wilson can apologise to you all individually, after which, let me assure you, she will then be very thoroughly punished.” “Oh my” Ms. Smyth quickly responded, that Cheshire cat grin appearing on her face once more. Turning to Jesse she said “I cannot believe it Mr. Clarke. Ms. Wilson has always been very well behaved in my class and until today has always acted as though she can be trusted to be a big girl. I refuse to believe that she would soil herself like a big baby in my class and then sit in it trying to hide it, silly enough to think that the staff would not quickly find out.” “Bend over” she commanded. “Out of respect for our time with one another so far and the person I thought you to be I will not be able to accept what our Potty Patrolman is telling me until I see this accident with my own two eyes.” When Jesse who at this point was almost totally lost in her own world again did not immediately move at her words, Ms. Greaves sat down in the chair in front of the Potty Patrolman’s desk and aggressively pulled Jesse over her lap. She then pulled up her skirt so that her panties were on display to everyone in the room and began to spank the back of Jesse’s legs again, saying “Do what you are told, you are in enough trouble already missy without being disobedient too”. “Well, Ms. Smyth, since you needed proof, there you have it,” said the Potty Patrolman with a knowing smile. “A silly girl with a very poopy behind. Though it speaks of your good character to want to give any child the benefit of the doubt. Unfortunately, in my experience it is never without good reason that a child is sent to Mount Usher and no matter how well-behaved or mature they may seem at first, their true nature is always eventually revealed.” “I’m in shock Mr. Clarke. I’m truly shocked. Even seeing it I can scarcely believe what my eyes are telling me, but there can be no doubt about it. Little Ms. Wilson made a whoopsie-daisy in her pants and did not tell anyone. And to think I was only praising her earlier for her excellent potty skills” Ms Smyth replied feigning shock and shaking her head in mock disappointment. “Thinking about it, I’m so disgusted I’m not even sure I can deal with having such a dishonest baby in my class. I’ll really have to reflect on this”. Nodding his head in agreement the Potty Patrolman said “Well that is your choice after all Ms. Smyth and if you do not feel as though you can trust Ms. Wilson to learn in your class anymore just let either myself or her year head Ms. Linton know and we will make alternative arrangements.” He then continued on saying “Okay Ms. Greaves, you can let this potty pants back up”. When Jesse was standing and facing him again, he said “I want you to apologise to everyone here for making so much work for them through your babyish behaviour.” Scared stiff and barely able to communicate at all Jesse blurted out apologies to everyone on the room in turn for pooping her pants and for being so silly to try and hide it. By this point even she was almost convinced that this was the truth. Once this was done the Potty Patrolman thanked everyone for coming and let all but Ms. Linton and Ms. Greaves return to their break. “Now as to what is to be done with you to help you learn that this sort of behaviour is not acceptable here at Mount Usher and incentivise you not to do it again. To begin, since you have violated the school rules and had an accident in your pants you will be placed on Review Level for the next three months and accordingly have to wear the Review Uniform” the Potty Patrolman said matter of factly. Hearing this Jesse let out a great heaving sob as all of her earlier fears seemed to be coming to pass which the Potty Patrolman ignored. He motioned to Ms. Greaves who then led Jesse over to a full-length mirror that sat towards the back of the room and began to get her changed by removing Jesse’s black shoes, dirty underwear, and skirt. Finding herself practically naked from the waste down for the second time that day Jesse watched as Ms. Linton then took over and began transforming her into a toddler. First, she started by taking some baby wipes and fully wiping her down this time. Then she had Jesse step into a large, adult-sized, disposable pull up that looked as thick as any diaper Jesse had ever seen, and was decorated with a childish animal print design. Ms. Linton then fitted her into an extremely short grey mini-skirt which only partially covered her pull-up leaving most of it on display. It was clear to Jesse that the purpose of this was to ensure that anyone who looked at her would be able to see what she was wearing straight away and easily confirm when she had an accident. Her school shoes were then replaced with a similar black pair but instead of being secured with a buckle they had Velcro straps. Lastly, although Jesse did not think it was part of the Review Uniform, Ms. Linton re-arranged her long shoulder length blond hair, which she usually wore freely, into two pig tails. Once Ms. Linton had finished, the three staff members gathered behind Jesse looking her over, providing the girl with extra time to take in her new look. Staring at the pull-up, or rather her pull-up, the Velcro, and pig tails, she did not feel at that moment as though she were nearly twenty years of age. She looked like a parody of someone’s two-year-old sister who had just started potty training. Even though there were other students in her class and school who looked exactly like this and worse, she never fully appreciated how awful it felt to be dressed this way until she was placed among them. She did not know how she was going to face her friends and not die of shame. Again, the Potty Patrolman spoke breaking Jesse from her horrific reverie. “Good” he said patting the back of Jesse’s pull-up. “This is much more suitable attire for someone still having accidents in their pants and struggling to hold it until it is time to go to the bathroom. You should count yourself lucky though that up to this your record has been impeccable. Since this is your first offence, I cannot reduce you to Pre-school or Toddler Level as someone who goes poopy in their pants really ought to be.” “As you know at Review Level you are now directly under my care and essentially on potty probation until you can demonstrate for a sufficient length of time that you are no longer having toileting issues. As a student at Review Level for the next three months you will be assigned a regular Potty Aid to ensure that you are wearing the correct uniform, are using the toilet to a sufficient standard, and to facilitate more regular panty inspections throughout the day. Usually, your Potty Aid will check you publicly every two to three hours, and after each visit to the toilet, though the number of times you are inspected will be decided by the Potty Aid you are assigned. I will discuss this with staff following our meeting here and have your new Potty Aid assigned to you by lunch time this afternoon. You are now no longer permitted to visit the bathroom without your assigned Potty Aid or, in the event of an emergency an alternative Potty Aid, accompanying you. Attempting to visit the bathroom without a Potty Aid will result in severe punishment. Additionally, you will now will now attend the Review Lunchroom for recess and lunchtime breaks, and sit in the Review Row or third row in your classroom. Finally, let me remind you that the expectation at Review Level is to prove your maturity by having no accidents. Therefore, should you have an accident at any time, your review period will reset back to three months meaning that you will be starting your probation over again. If, however you should have more than three accidents within a six-week period including those which may occur during the night you will fail your probation. Failing your potty probation will mean a reduction from Review to Pre-school Level which has its own separate rules. Do you understand this Ms. Wilson?” Thinking of everything the Potty Patrolman had said Jesse spirits were falling lower and lower as the implications of being at Review Level really sank it. Again, it took practically everything she had to blurt out “Yes, I understand Sir”. “Very good” replied the Potty Patrolman. “Now as for the punishment for your infantile behaviour this afternoon.” Having thought being reduced to Review Level was her punishment, Jesse's crying renewed as the Potty Patrolman continued to speak. "For having an accident in your pants, you will be required to watch Mount Usher’s own potty training video series every night during your one-hour free period for the next two weeks. I expect this will refresh your memory about what you are supposed to do when you need to relieve yourself. Just so you are aware this will be a recurring punishment every time you have an accident. Next, for causing trouble for Ms. Greaves, one of the Disciplinary Team will find you after you have watched the training video this evening and take you to the punishment room for a thirty-minute spanking. After that, for lying, your mouth will be washed out with soap and you will be placed in the corner for an additional thirty minutes before being brought to the potty and sent to bed. If I hear about you causing any problems for the staff or kicking up a fuss during these punishments you do not even want to imagine what I have in store for you. Understood?” “Yes Sir” replied Jesse meekly, having been totally broken. “Excellent” said the Potty Patrolman. “Well in a few moments Ms. Greaves will accompany you to your locker so you can get your books, and then bring you to class to explain why you were delayed. However, I believe you did not have time to have anything to eat or drink during your break while we were getting all of this sorted out. Is that correct? “It is Sir” replied Jesse “Thank you but I’m not at all hungry”. “Nonsense.” said the Potty Patroller grinning. “You might not be hungry after all this unpleasantness but I cannot have you going back to class and being unable to concentrate later on because you didn’t eat anything.” Moving over to his desk he opened a drawer and took out what looked to Jesse like an off-brand cereal bar and carton of juice. Forcing them into Jesse’s hands he said “Take these and have them on your way back to class. Ms. Greaves, you’ll make sure she finishes them before returning, won’t you?” Ms. Greaves simply nodded to affirm. “Excellent. Well off you go Ms. Wilson. After this evening I hope you will have learnt your lesson and made up your mind to be a good girl. If not for me, then your father who I will be giving a full report to on these matters. So be good!” With that the Potty Patrolman returned to his desk, presumably to get back to his own midmorning snack as Jesse was led out the door by Ms. Greaves. Seeing that Jesse had yet to begin consuming her food Ms. Greaves stopped her outside the door and took both the bar and juice from her. She then opened them for her and returned them, waiting until Jesse had started eating before continuing to walk. Jesse was in such a daze from all that had happened to her that morning, and unsettled by the unfamiliar swish of her legs rubbing off her pull-up as she walked, that she had almost finished her food before it even crossed her mind that it could be a new trap. She supposed time would tell whether it would be or not, but what was certain was that the rest of the day would be horrible regardless as she returned to class a Review Level student and had this evening’s punishments still to endure. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Part 6 It had been a terrible day and as I lay in bed I just couldn’t get to sleep because my mind was turning over every aspect of it. Mom, the school and even I had quite a lot to say and I needed to digest all of it. As I was mulling things over I felt my diaper warming and wondered why, when wide awake, I’d just peed myself. This was fast becoming even more of a problem I couldn’t fathom but knew I hated the fact I was in soaked padding. I looked at the clock and it was 22:05 and thought I’d try and do something I hadn’t yet tried and that was get to the bathroom and change myself. I got there as quietly as I could, stripped down and chucked the soaked material in the bin and was just about to clean up when dad came in. “Ah, Jamie, thought I heard movement...” I guiltily looked at him but wasn’t sure of my next move so grabbed a towel and tried to hide my privates. “Another wet diaper?” He queried but seeing the evidence hanging precariously on the edge of the bin there was no point in denying it. I nodded. “Your mom thinks you’re doing it on purpose... are you?” “NO,” I said with more force than I expected. Dad just put up his palm as if to say he understood so need not get upset about the suggestion. “Look son,” his voice was calm and measured, “your mother’s hard on you because you haven’t given this place a chance.” I looked down at my feet and wriggled my toes because it was true I hadn’t because I didn’t want to. He lifted my chin to look directly into his eyes. “I, no, we both understand it’s been quite a wrench for you... and we understand your resentment,” he tipped his head to one side... it was an odd way of showing he was being both a friend and a dad, “to an extent.” He then frowned but continued. “However, you are eleven years old and as such we, your parents, make all the decision on your behalf.” He paused a moment, “We know the trauma of leaving a place you’ve known all your life can be a scary experience and that was one of the reasons we were so pleased to move here. The crime rate is low, the education system is high, the job prospects for both mom and me were completely out of our reach back home... this was to be our new start. A place where we’d be able to bring up you and Josh and give you the benefits you wouldn’t have had had we stayed where we were.” He saw that I was shaking because I was on the verge of tears again. “Jamie,” he pulled me in for a hug and my towel fell away, he patted my bare bum as he tried to comfort my distress. I wriggled thinking about the way I’d been spanked and he must have caught that movement. “Oh yes, the spanking.” Now my tears did fall as I wondered, with my bare bum being available if I was about to receive the same thing again. “That did not go as planned,” he confessed. “We forgot that we had already given permission for that to happen but hoped that the threat alone would keep you in check. Alas, you pushed too many wrong buttons and the Prefect responded to that consent.” He looked up at me with sorrowful eyes. “Sorry, but that wasn’t supposed to actually happen... and it’s to your mom and my shame that it did. It won’t happen again.” He grabbed a fresh diaper from off the shelf and fluffed it out (they were very soft even if they were in company colours), fed it between my legs and fastened me tightly in then guided me back to bed. This was a little strange because he didn’t make me wear any plastic pants and I was just too astonished about what he’d said to comment but, like everyone does after every change, he patted my bottom in a very caring way. “Jamie, you have to know that we love you and everything we’ve done is for the benefit of us all. There was nothing left for us back at the old place, the work was about to dry up and your mates and you were heading in the wrong direction. TYME offered us a new start and if we hadn’t grabbed it we would’ve been doing you and Josh a great dis-service.” He tucked me in and kissed my forehead... it was nice. The fact that I’d been battling with dad had taken its toll because I really missed things as they used to be between us. Even the soft fluffy diaper felt weirdly nice. I was totally relaxed... oh hell I was enjoying this attention. “Jamie, your school is in charge of what happens there and for the moment I think they are giving you a lesson in accountability; act a certain way, and you’ll be treated in that way. It’s up to you how you change that judgement.” I think I understood what he was saying and felt a lot better, despite what he’d said about the spanking, that I’d be in E4 until they saw improvement in my attitude. They all knew I wasn’t a little kid but, if I was going to act like one, then they thought it only fair on me, to treat me as one. Well, at least that’s what I got from our conversation. The spanking – well no toddler would have been put through that but I’d chipped away at the bounds just a little too much. However, the other thing I got was that there would be no more spanking, although I did wonder if that could be repealed at any time, it was good to know. At that moment I wriggled happily in the delicate comfort of my diaper. # The chat with dad was nice. I mean, for the first time since we arrived here it was like being back home. Dad rarely raised his voice and the stroking of my hair and tucking me in was really... well... I hate to say it but as it used to be. It was like being back in our old apartment and I liked that... could it be the same here? I still wasn’t sure about mom but at least slept pretty well for the rest of the night and surprise-surprise, woke up dry. Mom came in carrying a few items just as I’d planted my feet on the floor. I looked up at her and noticed that the hard features I’d been subjected to last night had softened somewhat. “Morning love,” yes definitely softened, “how did you sleep, OK, hmmm?” “Fine thanks... and I’m dry.” I said rubbing the front of my still soft diaper. Now this was something a little strange because, the mornings I’ve woken up wet the plastic pants held the fabric but it was still pretty icky. Now, it suddenly occurred to me that since I’d been put into one by mom, I may well have resented it but I’d never really kicked up a rumpus about having to wear it. Weird or what? “Well that’s wonderful love, why not get washed and I’ll be in to get you ready for school.” I resigned myself to still having to wear an E4 diaper but also added something that dad and I talked about last night. “I don’t wet on purpose... I don’t know why it’s happening but it is getting worse... but honestly mom, I’m not doing it on purpose.” I thought I’d better make sure mom knew I wasn’t doing it intentionally by making sure she knew of that fact. I wondered if I should repeat myself again. “OK, OK,” she held up her hands as if in surrender. “I believe you and I have to say Mimi was worried and wanted me to take you to the doctors for a check-up. We’ll be going after school today.” “What do you mean Mimi was worried?” I didn’t understand. “Well, we feed all our daily data into Mimi’s computer banks and it’s collated, put through various personal algorithms and, well, erm, and it came back, and has done a couple of times now, that this can’t be right for an otherwise healthy eleven year old boy.” I looked at her wondering what else she’d fed into the computer but mom was looking guilty. “Yes, well, I kept telling Mimi that I was sure it was down to the trauma of leaving, hormones... or... you were doing it on purpose to make a point.” She confessed. “What!” “I kept saying you’d be over it soon when you saw that peeing the bed made no difference to us leaving here. Nonetheless, Mimi thought, despite my insisting on the latter being the case, I should take you to a doctor.” She shrugged guiltily. “MOM!” She looked a little flustered. “You can’t tell me I got all that wrong. You have been acting up in the hope we might change our minds and as we got more and more entrenched, I thought you were doing the same by... turning up the waterworks and using your padding.” “MOM!” “Sorry love, but that’s the way it seemed to me but, after your chat with dad last night we’ve talked about it and our conclusion is... to see if Mimi is correct and I should give you the benefit of the doubt.” She took a deep breath. “Look, you’ve been a little sod, erm, so excuse me if I got it wrong.” She fluffed out a fresh TYME compliant yellow diaper, checked the new pale yellow cartoon plastic pants and unfolded the school yellow onesie. “However, you still have school first so... off you go, get cleaned up and then I’ll get you ready for nursery.” I pointed at the onesie. “Mom, can’t we change that?” “Not today but a lot will depend on what the doctor says... but for now...” and she waggled the fresh diaper in the air, “Mimi has decided E4 is the place for you.” # Mom and dad, the deputies, the teachers, Miss Sylvia and now Mimi (an inanimate blue box) have all made it perfectly clear that it is my inflexibility, rudeness and foul mouth that has led me to be sentenced to E4... the nursery. Personally, I didn’t understand how being angry and foul-mouthed is regarded as being childish, to me it is the complete opposite but I suppose the wet diaper might have some baring on that decision. However, TYME, or Mimi or whatever algorithm is in charge means my school uniform is whatever the kids in E4 are wearing because that’s where I’ll be spending my days for now. As I stood under the shower I recapped on what mom and dad had said. Everything is fed into Mimi so if I wanted things to change, I’d have to make sure what was fed into it/her/it (or whatever) next had to be something in my favour. After the success with being a monkey and entertaining not only Josh with my fun antics, would I be able to use that to my advantage? Perhaps I’d been going at this all wrong, and although it was against my better judgement, maybe I should be the sweetest ‘toddler’ in E4? I could try it at least. However there were other things going on in my head like – where were all the others like me who had a problem with this kind of authority? I was the only boy my age in E4, surely they must be others? Despite the shower’s warmth a sudden cold shiver ran up my spine and I had a very definite image in my head of an operating room where row after row of young people were undergoing surgery and getting implants in their brain to ‘change their ways’. This sudden vision shocked me so much that I let loose a stream of pee. Thankfully I was in the right place for it not to matter but I was quite jolted by such a thought. Surely E10 wouldn’t be that blatant? So, when I returned to the bedroom and mom was there waiting to get me sorted with all the oils, powder and a thick fleecy diaper, I didn’t create I simply said “Thanks Mom” and let her get on with organising my uniform for the day. E4 was a better option than E10 that was for sure. With diapers - mine, Josh’s and everyone else who still wore one – being washed and replaced by TYME Diaper Services I had to admit they did a great job in making sure they were ultra-soft to wear. Maybe that’s why I hadn’t argued too much about having to wear one because, apart from the bulk, they felt OK. I might have looked stupid for an eleven year old still in diapers but I had a plan so everyone else could SUCK IT. The only thing that pulled me up was the sight of my little brother Josh in his blue school shorts. How I wished I had a pair to cover the obvious bulge that the onesie did a poor job of concealing. “Mom, could I not wear shorts until we get to school?” She looked at me as if to say... ‘Now you’re asking to wear shorts?’ but instead said that the supervisor on the bus would be scanning my badge and what I wore and where I should be was already in the system, so, sorry but no change. That was the next thing to pull me up. It never occurred to me that I’d have to travel on the school bus dressed as I was. This was all too much but I had to stay strong to make sure my plan worked. “OK, never mind.” I can’t believe those ‘understanding’ words came out of my mouth, and to be honest, ‘the plan’ hadn’t exactly jumped into my head yet. # I was beginning to think that TYME had its own climate because since we’d been here there hadn’t been one grotty day. As Josh and I clambered aboard the bus a new, different younger bus Deputy/Prefect (or whatever their title was) scanned us both and we made our way to a couple of empty seats. I was expecting a roar of offensive comments from the rest of the passengers about what I was wearing but the bus seemed to respect I was dressed this way for a reason and no one said a thing or even sniggered at my appearance. Some looked and smiled but it wasn’t a mocking smile just one of acknowledgement. They were all deep in their own conversations and interests and I appeared not to be one of them. I couldn’t believe it, at my old school the ridicule would have lasted a lifetime. Mmmm! Although, we sat and chatted together, Joshy had a friend on the bus he kept turning round to talk to. The little lad asked if I liked to wear a onesie but said it in such a way that despite my initial worry about this whole ‘kids uniform thing’ I didn’t get mad because he said he wished he could wear one to school. He was dressed just like Josh so that meant blue shorts over his diaper, if in fact he was wearing one, which I suspected he was. Another thought struck me – was the reason no one said anything down to manners or just that I was so well-known to the townsfolk that they all knew my history and why exactly I was wearing this juvenile outfit? Those little tags on our shirts certainly contained all our info so it wasn’t a silly notion. However, by the time the bus arrived at the Academy I was able to shrug off my suspicions because there was absolutely nothing I could do whatever the reason. Once we’d all disembarked and I’d been shuffled over to my E4 line I was greeted by Miss Tracy who together with all the other ‘teachers’ welcomed our noisy little group with big hugs and huge smiles. “We’re really happy to see our little monkey again today,” she beamed as once again my badge was scanned, “we’ve got some lovely games for our wonderful E4ers to enjoy... yeahhhh.” I joined in “Yeahhhhhhhhh” I could play along. She patted my padded bum and I’m sure it was to check whether I needed a change yet but thankfully the bus journey had turned out to be totally un-traumatic, so I was OK. # The day passed off just like the bus journey, un-traumatically. I was the life and soul of our little group and kept everyone entertained even receiving a gold star, which Miss Tracy stuck on to the front of my onesie. I didn’t make a fuss when I was led to the changing area and my diaper was changed because once again, I’d wet it without realising. Still it was all praise from the girl (I think it was Miss Helen) as she wiped me down and affixed a different, yet thicker blue and yellow diaper in place before slipping up a fresh pair of plastic pants and refastening the onesie. I know I should have been mortified being changed by a girl not that much older than me but realised that's what they wanted me to feel. If I wanted to get out of E4 then had to play the game. So, I thanked her and rushed off to join the others. Strangely, because I was playing a part I could actually enjoy myself. I’d had plenty of practice playing silly games with a little brother so was able to adapt to my fellow E4ers and the time simply flew by. It was a bit of a surprise how quickly time past and parents came to pick up their little ones but this time I didn’t care or try to hide myself away. I carried on ‘chatting’ with my new found ‘playmates’ even when their mom or dad was around. I got plenty of hugs and bye-bye waves from the kids as they left and a huge cuddle from Josh when he came to join me. Mom arrived shortly after, and once she’d received a report from Miss Sylvia smiled her encouragement for us both to accompany her... I’d forgotten we had to visit the doctor. “A gold star eh?” Mom looked proudly at my badge. “Oh yer, I organised a little game everyone enjoyed.” I reached to pull it off my onesie. “Oh Jamie, don’t just pull it off, it’s a good thing to wear with pride... I bet your brother’s impressed?” She looked at Josh who was tracing his finger across its golden points. “Yes, a very good sign.” Mom mumbled under her breath as we began to meander from the building. I felt good but wasn’t sure if it was because I was proud or that I was fooling everyone. “OK sweethearts,” she hugged both of us, “a trip to the doctors for a quick check-up and then we’re meeting dad down on the beach for a bit of a treat.” # The doctor’s office was nothing like our old one, there it was all cramped and you had to wait ages but this, your name was on the board as you arrived, as was the doctor and room you’d be seen in, so no long queues or groups of sick people sitting around coughing. My doctor was Dr Sandra Sulliman and we had precisely two minutes to wait. Meanwhile, a brief scan of the place showed it was clean, efficient and well run. Even the nurses looked professional in their pale blue scrubs and smiling faces. It was a very welcoming place and whereas Josh had been scared of going to see our old doctor, here he seemed at ease, especially when one of the nurses asked if he wanted to play with some toys in the kid’s room. She looked at me and smiled, “You can go too if you like... I think that gold star gives you a VIP pass.” I wasn’t sure if that was a compliment or a subtle put down but at that moment Dr Sulliman’s door opened and we were greeted with an encouraging smile and invited in. Josh had disappeared off with the nurse to the play area so I guess it was just me having the check-up. She introduced herself as Doctor Susan and obviously knew all about me but after the initial ‘Hello’s’ spoke to me and not mom about my problem. This wasn’t what I expected, I thought, because of the way I was dressed that she’d treat me as a little kid but it wasn’t the case. Even mom seemed taken aback by the way the conversation was going but she took her cue from the doctor and let me speak. “Well James, it seems that since you’ve arrived here at TYME you’ve been having trouble with your waterworks... is that how you see it?” “Erm, um, eeerrrrrmmm,” This was not my finest hour. Mom piped up that was the case but the doctor asked if she’d let James speak... she used my name and not Jamie, which I was quite impressed by. Mom raised her hands as if she was only trying to help and the doctor thanked her but she was conducting this examination and it would be done her way. I sort of liked my new doctor. # Throughout our conversation she never once talked down to me. She even apologised for asking me to strip down to my diaper so she could examine my body but said that she’d be as quick as possible to avoid too much embarrassment. She was as good as her word. The exam was mainly done by moving pads around my body which she said were taking readings as they scanned for any ‘peculiarities’, all of which were then being fed into the main frame diagnostic computer and we’d have the read outs almost immediately. I wasn’t asked to give a urine sample as somehow she already had that information stacked in my file. I wondered if they used my discarded wet diapers to check, which strangely made sense. “And finally James, we need to take a small sample of your blood... so, if you could follow Nurse Jelly, she’ll draw that whilst I have a quick word with your mom and then we should be done.” I stood up to follow the nurse and suddenly felt myself filling my diaper. “Oh mom...” I cried in frustration and embarrassment. Doctor Susan tried to placate my total humiliation. “Don’t worry James that can often happen when visiting a doctor... for some it can be a very nerve wracking experience. The nurse will see to that as well and I’ll speak to you in a little while OK... nothing to worry about.” With legs apart I waddled after the nurse to another room where she sat me down, suggested she took the blood first and then change my diaper. I was far too embarrassed to argue and just let her do her job. She was sweet and encouraging and didn’t once say that it was ridiculous an eleven year old boy should still be in diapers and using them. I was grateful for the care she took in drawing blood because I hardly noticed. After the sweet way she cleaned me up, powdered me down and fitted a fresh clean (though quite thick) diaper, fresh pair of plastic pants and helped me back into my onesie, I was more grateful than embarrassed... and the dry fresh diaper felt great hugging my not so very private privates. Thankfully, I didn’t receive a second gold star as that would have been just too much. # Despite the fact that I was back wearing a diaper this was the first time I felt I’d been treated fairly. There was no talking down or ordering me to do something, I was simply asked and I did it voluntarily. I was led back to the doctor’s office where they were looking at some results on screen. “Ah there you are James, all done?” She looked me up and down and smiled that encouraging smile again. “Now then,” she called me over to see the screen better, “these are the results of today’s examination as well as your health and civic reports since you arrived in town.” “Civic?” I queried. “Yes James, firstly, you’re very healthy and I can see no cause for alarm.” She paused for that to sink in and then continued, “Here in TYME we continually check on our entire population’s health. By using the finest medical, psychological and social data we can build a proper insight into each and every person who lives here. We see how each of us is different but that in some ways we’re all the same and by being able to assess such a diverse range of personalities, can make better decision for everyone.” She was saying it as if I should be impressed. I could see mom was and had that look of someone who approved of it all. I didn’t I thought it was invasive. “So you know everything?” I felt an argument coming on which I just knew mom wouldn’t want to hear. She was about to admonish me for daring to say such a thing but the doctor intervened before she could. “I see what you’re getting at James. You think this is too intrusive and is invading your privacy and possibly your personality and trying to make you something you’re not?” She got it in one. I nodded, much to mom’s annoyance. # “Well James, I see your point, and I’m sure there have been many people here who have wondered about the same thing.” I could see she was thinking and then that smile again, “However, it’s not normally eleven year olds that have such thoughts.” Was she having a go or actually surprised at my reasoning? “Are they sent to E10?” I ventured and still seeing in my minds-eye that huge and busy surgery. She looked at me and then across at mom. “Mmmm, I’ll let you into a little secret.” She lent closer into me. “There’s no such place as E10.” “WHAT?” “No, it’s just a ruse to hopefully get people to comply.” “Comply, that sounds...” “Yes, it does sound a bit authoritarian doesn’t it? Let me explain it this way. TYME was, and is, set up as an experimental town. The motto - TYME is on your side – isn’t meant as just a cute phrase (I’d heard this before) it really does try to make things better for everyone... and the reason there is no E10 is because everyone is of the same opinion – and that is, TYME is right for them.” No E10, what? Are they trying to backtrack? Is this place just playing mind games? I saw mom shuffle nervously in her seat. “I’ve tried to explain this to him doctor but he just isn’t interested.” She looked at mom, “No he doesn’t want to fit in because he feels he’s been betrayed by you and your husband.” I wasn’t expecting this attack on mom but she’d hit the nail on the head. Mom also wasn’t expecting this either. “We wanted what’s best for the family...” she was almost in tears and I knew it was because my attitude continued to pain her. Doctor Susan reached out and touched mom’s arm, “And you found the ideal place but we still have one very unhappy guy here. James still sees this move as cruel and undeserved. Is that correct James?” I was overawed by the way this doctor’s appointment was going. Not only that but I was impressed that she was taking time out to see things my way. Meanwhile, mom added her bit to the conversation. “But he’s eleven; we have to make choices for all the family’s benefit not just his.” “Indeed you do AND that brings me back to you James.” She looked me in the eye and asked outright if I enjoyed wetting my diapers. “No, no, NOOO.” I couldn’t emphasise this enough. However, at the same time my palm automatically stroked the bulge in the front of my onesie and it felt more of a comfort than an intrusion. # She pointed to a red graph on the monitor we’d been looking at. “This tells me that you have a psychosomatic block...” “You mean I’m stupid?” “No one thinks you’re stupid and although you’re wearing the E4 nursery outfit it’s not because anyone thinks that’s the case. That is to make a visual point about the way you behave... that you’re being treated no differently than any toddler because you act like one.” Ouch! I wanted to point out I wasn’t a toddler but it seemed a stupid thing to say. She said there was no E10 but I could still see the place in my head and that was pretty scary. “No, it’s an emotional block,” she continued, “one that only you can deal with. We are here if you need help but all we can do is point out the benefits of the town and hope you can see them for yourself.” “I’ve told him all this.” Mom was trying to make sure that she hadn’t been kidding me or missing out on my ‘TYME education’. “He just doesn’t want to be part of all this...as wonderful as it is.” The doctor looked at me. “It’s difficult, but you need to know something. You are very unlikely to get over wetting your diapers unless you can get over not wanting to be here.” I shrugged because somehow I’d had that thought already. Again I found my hand unconsciously reaching down to stroke the padding for reassurance. “Look James you started to wet yourself when you first arrived here. Your mom put you into diapers on a night to help you over this initial problem but instead of relieving you of the panic or frustration, you’ve been getting worse. So much so that not only do you wet at night but also during the day. You’ve driven yourself to this point and there’s a mental block that equates with you wetting and hating this place. You have to let that hate go.” I felt guilty, annoyed and wanted to blame mom, dad, TYME for this undeniable truth but all I could do was glow red and feel stupid. Doctor Susan continued. “TYME is for you and your family’s good. Your parents have done a great job in seeing this opportunity and seizing it to make all your lives better. You need to start believing in what your parents have been trying to tell you and...” “But I hate all of this...” I pulled at my onesie, “the uniforms, the badges that tell anyone and everyone about me and...” “But TYME is built on that style of social inclusion. It keeps track on everyone but it’s for the good of everyone. Because of all the data Mimi collects it means that we can be ahead of the game should a virus be about to sweep into town. We can plan for shortages and medical supplies. We can predict and prevent any problems before they happen and deal with them better if they do. TYME is...” “I know – on my side?” I said glibly. “Yes it is, but, you’re not convinced that you can still be... well, you.” “And my friends aren’t here.” “Mmmm,” the doctor noted, “we can do nothing about your friends but you have had loads of opportunities to make new ones.” “But I don’t want to.” “Well, that’s not strictly true is it?” “What do you mean?” I wondered if I was being tricked. “Well, I don’t want to bring too much attention to it but that,” she pointed to my gold star stuck on my onesie, “means more than you think.” “In what way?” “It means that’s just what you have done... you’ve made friends and what’s more appeared to enjoy doing so.” “But that was just a bunch of toddlers.” “It’s a start James. For perhaps the first time since you’ve been here, today, in E4, you really didn’t think of anything but having fun. In so doing... you made plenty of friends which means, even if you don’t think you like them, they like you.” She smiled a hopeful smile - she had a lot of them to give away. “I think James, if you give it a chance you might find that not only do you make friends easily but that you’ll be out of wearing a diaper pretty soon after as well.” That jolted my thoughts of escape and screwed up my plan to hitch-hike out of this place because I had to think ‘where would I go’ and realised for the first time I didn’t have any options. # Doctor Susan accompanied mom and me to the play area to collect Joshy who was deep in a game with a couple of other toddlers. She spent a bit of time chatting to him and at the same time doing an inconspicuous examination as he played. Eventually, we said our goodbyes and left the surgery. I had a lot to think about but both mom and Josh were in a very happy and talkative mood. “Is it beach now mommy?” “Yes sweetheart,” she checked her watch, “and daddy should already be there...” “Mommy, can I paddle and build sand castles?” “Of course, that’s what we’re going for and daddy will have set up lovely picnic... are you two hungry?” Joshy excitedly squealed “Yeaahhh.” But I was deep in thought. According to the doctor, all this wetting was down to me and the only way to stop it was to accept my parent’s view of TYME. The other thing was... I had enjoyed making friends and playing with the toddlers so now I had another worry. Could I only make friends with kids Josh’s age? # tbc #

Fifty-Two Lyndie was eating a salad from the salad bar. A spring mix base, I suspect–given the greens and purples of the leaves–with a colorful assortment of veggies on top of it. I was eating a slice of pizza. I was grateful that the office cafe served pizza, but it wasn’t exactly ‘good.’ It reminded me of the cafeteria-pizza I’d get in elementary school–a slab of cardboard that seemed pizza-ish, though seemed to be missing the soul. Ava had brought her own lunch. A sandwich on white bread, a bag of grapes, and a granola bar. I didn’t know if she packed her lunch or if her mother packed it for her–and I wasn’t about to ask. But, scrawled on the brown-paper bag, was ‘AVA’ in black marker. That seemed like something a mom would’ve done. As Lyndie and Ava talked to each other, I found myself studying the lunches on the table, trying to determine if our lunches said anything about us or not. Was Lyndie’s lunch healthy and ‘adult?’ Was Ava’s lunch curated for her because she couldn’t take care of herself? Was my lunch simply nostalgic for an earlier part of my life? Maybe it was just food. “Earth to Clark,” Lyndie said, waving her hand in front of my face. Ava was giggling into her hand. “O-oh… Uhm, sorry, did you say something to me?” “Did you space out there, bud?” Lyndie asked. “Maybe.” “I asked who you thought might have told Thomas about the diaper stuff,” Ava said. “Because it wasn’t me. And it wasn’t Lyndie.” “Well then, yeah. It has to be someone else, right?” I asked. “The master detective, ladies and gentleman,” Lyndie said, rolling her eyes. Another burst of giggles from Ava. “Lyndie seems pretty confident that it’s not Bradley,” Ava said. “I think I’d agree with that. He’d never want to stir the pot.” “Plus,” Lyndie added, “I asked him.” “Right. I forgot that you and he were tight now,” I said. “Really?” asked Ava. “Like…how tight?” “We’re friends,” Lyndie said. “Bradley’s her little pet project,” I said. “She’s going to steal him away from Ms. Tamberlin.” “I never said that!” “Okay, okay,” Ava said. “We’ll, uh, come back to that later. So who does that leave? Just…Megan, right?” Lyndie and I both nodded, and the table fell silent after. Megan was still a big mystery. She kept to herself. Mommy had once mentioned that she thought Megan wore a diaper from time to time, though Lyndie had never mentioned Megan stepping foot in the nursery before. “I’ve never spoken to her,” Lyndie said. “Neither have I,” I said. “We’re not close,” Ava said. “But we’re friendly. Maybe I could…talk to her?” It could be sensed in Ava’s tone, quite clearly, that she didn’t actually want to confront Megan. I was tempted to let Lyndie handle this for us, but between whatever she was doing with Thomas and her going to brunch with me and my mother the next day, it felt unfair to expect her to do this too. “It’s okay,” I said. “I’ll talk to her.” “Are you sure?” asked Ava. “I mean, she’s not scary, right? She’s not a witch or a monster. She’s just…a girl. She’s one of us.” “Are you saying that you’re a girl too?” Lyndie asked, smirking. “N-no…I’m saying that she’s an assistant. Like us. We’re all just…weird sex objects for people in positions of power. If she’s been telling Thomas things, then I’d want to know why. And if she didn’t…well, I think it’d be good if she was on our side.” I ate my bland pizza. Lyndie complained about the lack of a decent vinaigrette at the salad bar. And we all had a good laugh when Ava pulled an actual juice box out of her lunch bag. Then, it was back to the ‘grind.’ Whatever that was–work didn’t really feel like ‘work’ these days. It was just the place I went to get my diapers changed and laughed at. I had debated putting off my conversation with Megan until later–maybe even the next week. But I didn’t want anything else looming overhead while I went to Mommy’s house that night. Or during brunch the next day. Mr. Yang’s office was near Mommy’s, but I was relatively sure that Megan actually worked out of the finance department on the floor below ours. Stepping off the elevator, I found a span of cubicles and desks that looked eerily similar to the one I was used to, but different enough that I had no sense of direction. So I just wandered for a few minutes, hoping I’d find someone or something familiar. Instead, as I rounded a corner, I almost ran into Megan herself–we were just an inch away from knocking each other down on our asses. “Hey,” I said. “Hello,” she replied. She smiled, though it didn’t seem like the most sincere smile. It felt polite, at best. “I was actually hoping to run into you. Well, not like actually running into you, but…” “What’s up?” she asked, sparing me the awkwardness of my introduction. “Is there somewhere private we can talk?” I asked. She nodded. “Down this hall behind me. Third door on the right. I have to go drop off some files, but I’ll be back in a minute or two.” “Perfect,” I said. “Thank you.” So far, so good. I followed her directions, continuing down the hallway as I counted three doors on the right. And then I came to the closed door to an office. Whose office was this? I looked at the placard on the wall next to the door. Megan Markley, Executive Assistant to the CFO My heart sank a little. She had her own office? A fancy name placard? I was the assistant to the CEO and I didn’t have an office of my own. Was this something I had to know to ask for? I turned the handle and walked into Megan’s office. It wasn’t nearly as big as the executive offices I was used to, but it was big enough. And private. Tastefully decorated, and the air smelled faintly of flowers. Perhaps the most surprising part of Megan’s office, other than her having one in the first place, was how adult it looked. Maybe we had been wrong to assume that Megan was one of us. And, perfect timing, I felt myself pee a little–just an unconscious dribble that babbled from my caged manhood. I felt my cheeks flare–what a perfect summation of the difference between the two of us. She had an office. I was wetting diapers. “Please, have a seat,” Megan said, entering the office herself now and closing the door behind her. “This is a nice space,” I said. “Thank you very much,” she replied, flashing that polite smile again as she took her seat on the other side of her desk from me. Her large leather chair looked leagues better than the rather standard-issue office chair I was using at my cubicle. Hell, it looked like it could give Mommy’s office chair a run for its money. “May I ask how you were able to even get a room like this?” “Is that what you came to talk to me about?” she asked. “N-no.” “I just asked,” she said. “I tend to get whatever I want.” Another scan of Megan’s office revealed more details I hadn’t caught the first time around. There was paperwork and file folders. Binders. Thick wads of documents stapled and bound together. It was work. She wasn’t spending her days waddling around and peeing her pants. She was doing actual work here. Was this, too, what she wanted? “You said you had something you wanted to talk to me about?” she asked. “Yeah, actually.” But suddenly, the words felt harder to say than I thought they would. Here she was, obviously busy and important–and I was coming to her to talk about gossip involving diapers. It felt so trivial and embarrassing. Still, I couldn’t bail now. As much as it made me cringe, I had to say what I came here to say. “Do you know who Thomas Pritchard is?” “I may have heard the name before. Who is he, exactly?” I shrugged. “He’s a… Actually, I’m not entirely sure what he does here. But he’s another employee. Some low-level guy, I guess.” “And what about him?” I needed to be blunt–I needed to just spit it all out and see if she cared or not. “He knows about the assistants. Someone has been talking to him about the, uhm, diapers and all that.” My cheeks reddened again as I said the d-word in front of her. “He’s threatening to expose everything.” “Hm,” Megan said, her eyes narrowing. “Did you come here because you thought that I had told him about those things?” “M-maybe. No offense or anything. If you had, I just thought I could learn why you might have done that.” “I didn’t tell anyone about diapers,” Megan said. “Do you know anything about who would?” She took a deep breath and sighed. I could’ve sworn that she was about to say something, perhaps even answer my question. Instead, she just shrugged. She finally leaned back a little in her office chair and asked me a question of her own: “Do you like your diapers?” It was my turn to take a deep breath. “I do, yeah,” I cautiously replied. “And the chastity?” I had almost forgotten that she was there in the conference room when Mommy had first presented the cage to me. Megan had been there to watch as I was passed down the line for a series of spankings. “It’s a mixed bag,” I said, being more honest than I thought I’d be. “We can be frank with each other, right?” she asked. I could think of no reason why we couldn’t be. “Of course.” “I’m rather fond of the chastity myself.” “Oh, so you…” I stopped myself as I felt my cheeks redden again. I wasn’t sure what questions would or wouldn’t be appropriate to ask. “I’ve still got one of those,” she said, possibly reading my mind. “Mr. Yang used to talk about bottom surgery, but…I think he’s rather fond of chicks with dicks. So it stays locked up until he needs it. Which is…often enough. But diapers. I miss those.” “You don’t wear them anymore?” She shook her head. “It used to be part of the, er, ‘aesthetic.’ Are you familiar with sissies?” Early on, in my own diapered adventures, I had seen some references to sissies in my research about adult babies and ageplay kink. I had a general idea of what it was about. So I nodded, hoping I hadn’t made the wrong assumptions. “He had fun with that for a while, but I don’t think we were on the same page about diapers.” “How so?” “Well, he didn’t want to change them. And I wanted to…use them.” “A shame Lyndie wasn’t here then,” I said. “And the nursery.” Megan shrugged. “It probably wouldn’t have made a difference. He outgrew sissies and diapers. Cutesy things in general. He wants someone…sexy. Someone with some of these.” She pointed to her chest where a pair of ample bosoms seemed perfectly contoured by her tight shirt. “And I take it that you’re, uh, happy with how things worked out?” “If you’re asking if I’m happy to be Megan, then I can assure you that I am.” “Good,” I said. “I take it that you and Mr. Yang must get along pretty well, then?” She laughed–a loud and candid “Ha!” that I wasn’t sure how to react to. “I’m grateful for many things that Mr. Yang has done for me. But I do not like Darren Yang.” “Oh.” “Do you get along with Gabrielle?” It always caught me off guard to hear Ms. Heller’s first name used casually. “I do, yeah. She’s been pretty good to me.” “How is she good to you?” The simplicity and bluntness of her question tripped me up again. I supposed I could’ve read the question as one of disbelief–like she didn’t think that Ms. Heller actually was being good to me. But I had answers for that question. “She took me with her to Seattle last weekend,” I said. “We had a good time. And, uhm, she’s paying for a rather expensive brunch for me tomorrow morning.” “Is that it?” Megan asked. “A business trip and a meal?” I sighed. Fine, I’d dig a little deeper. I wanted to convince Megan that Ms. Heller really was treating me well. “She changes my diapers. Buys me things. She, you know, pleasures me.” “Buys you things like…more diapers?” “I’m sorry,” I said. “Are you trying to make a point? I’m not exactly sure where we’re going with this.” She laughed and shook her head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just a little too cynical for my own good. I remain convinced that none of our executive ‘masters’ are really interested in doing what’s best for us. We aren’t people. We’re ‘just’ assistants. Worse–we’re just toys. But…if you feel that Gabrielle actually cares about you…well, what do I know?” “She does,” I said. I felt confident about my answer, though she had embedded the slightest sliver of doubt in the back of my mind. “I’m glad to hear that,” she said. “Honestly.” I was looking around her office again–still in disbelief that all of this was hers. I was wondering if I, too, could be getting more from this arrangement. “You said you just…asked? For this office?” “I ask for a lot of things,” she said. “And I get what I want.” “Like what?” “Well, he’s paid for my appearance. And what do you think? Am I cute?” “Yes,” I said, cheeks warming again. “Quite.” “I have an apartment downtown,” she continued. “Guess who foots the bill for that? Likewise, take a guess at who is helping me get my master’s degree?” “Just because you asked?” “Because I asked,” she said. “And because I allow him to fuck me. Or, you know, he allows me to fuck him when it strikes his fancy. And, whatever. It’s just sex. One day I won’t need him anymore. I’ll have a ton of money saved because I don’t pay rent. I’ll have a master’s degree. A cute body. And I’ll go and do whatever I want.” I had just been handed a lot to process and think about. I had a ton of questions–but what else was new? “You said you missed diapers?” I asked. She nodded. “I have some. But I don’t wear them much. Diapers are for babies. Babies need to be cared for. And…I guess I just don’t want to have to care for myself.” “You know…you can talk to us. Like, myself and Ava. And Lyndie–she’s got that nursery now, you know? And if Mr. Yang didn’t want to change your diaper, I’m sure she would be up for it.” She smiled–it felt like the first time I was seeing an authentic smile on her face. “Something changed around here recently. And not just your latest diaper.” I felt my cheeks warming, though I tried to play it off like it didn’t faze me. “How so?” “I’ve been here for a while. I’ve seen a few others like you and I come and go. Assistants, or whatever our leadership team likes to call us. I never really got to know anybody. We’d see each other at work functions or whatever and we’d acknowledge each other. But we didn’t really…talk. We weren’t friends.” “Oh.” And there I was, wetting my diaper just a little bit more. I could feel the padding swell between my legs as I tried my hardest not to look distracted. Nope, not pissing myself while we talk. Nothing to see here. “But something changed around the time you got mixed up in all this ‘assistant’ stuff,” she said. “Suddenly, I see you palling around with Lyndie and Ava. I saw the three of you eating lunch together again today, in fact. I saw Bradley and Lyndie walking down the hall together the other day too. Did you know Ms. Heller’s former assistant? Hillary?” “I know of her.” “We worked together for three years. We never had lunch together. We never even shared a text message. But then you show up, and suddenly there’s this little diapered friendship club going on.” “I…I’m sorry if it feels like you're not welcome. Nobody has ever wanted to exclude you, I don’t think.” “No, no,” she said. “It’s not that. I’ve excluded myself–I can’t hold that against anyone else. I only bring this up to say that I think it’s been a good change. The babies and the sissies and the…whatever it is that Bradley is–we should be banding together.” “You should come have lunch with us,” I said. “Hang out with us after work.” “I appreciate the invitation,” she said, nodding. “Thank you, Clark.” “Of course.” I may not have gotten what I wanted by visiting Megan, but I was still pretty glad that I had stopped by. “I should probably get going,” I said, my eyes drifting to the stacks of folders and documents on her desk. “I don’t want to keep you from doing work.” “You don’t have much to do?” she asked. I laughed. “Not really. My busiest days are the ones where she asks me to make a dirty diaper.” She chucked a little. “And is that your assignment for today?” “Not today...” “Aw, that’s too bad. I would’ve put all my own work aside to help you with that.” I wasn’t entirely sure what she meant by that–but I knew that I liked it. “If I ever need a hand, I’ll let you know.” She sighed again–the same sigh I heard earlier when I thought she was going to tell me something more about Thomas Pritchard. “I wasn’t going to say anything else,” she said. “But you’re more…likable than I thought you’d be.” “You didn’t think I’d be likable?” She shrugged, laughing a little to herself. “I didn’t think you’d be awful. I just wasn’t sure that I’d like you. Alas, you seem likable enough.” “Gee, thanks. But does this mean you have something else to tell me?” “Here’s the thing, Clark: This is valuable information. Information that could start upending the way things work in the company. In my life. I like you enough to tell you what I know. But I don’t think I could give it to you for free. Not when the lifestyle I’ve grown accustomed to is on the line.” “I’d ask what the cost is,” I said. “But I’m not even sure what I’m buying.” “That boy you mentioned earlier? Thomas Pritchard? What if I had a little bit more information about that whole situation?” “I thought you said that…” “I said that I didn’t tell him about the diapers. And that’s true.” “Okay, fine,” I said. “What do you want from me?” “It’s nothing bad,” she said. “And it might even be fun!” Fun? I was already dreading this. Clark, the Office Punching-Bag. How badly did I want the answers to my questions? How did I know that I could even trust Megan? For all I knew, she’d ask something ridiculous of me, I’d do it, and then she’d reveal that she knew nothing all along and just wanted to fuck with me. But also: Clark, the Big Baby Whose Thirst for Humiliation Could Never Be Quenched. A bit of an unruly name, but it didn’t make it any less true. “I’m listening,” I said. “Do you know what I miss, Clark? I miss being a little sissy baby. The little sissy I was when I first started working for Mr. Yang. Wearing diapers and being dressed up in cute clothes. I miss the way he’d make me practice my curtsies.” I felt my heart racing. I still had no idea where she was going with this, but I could take a few guesses. “I don’t think I could pull off that look now,” she continued. “Look at me. With these tits? This face? This hair? Being a sissy was more fun when I didn’t quite look the part. When I looked like a little boy dressing up as a little girl.” “I-I’m sorry, Megan, but…what does this have to do with me?” “Clark, has anyone told you before that you’d make an adorable little girl?” “You can’t be serious!” “Just once! Clark, please. Let me dress you up–just once. Please? I won’t tell a soul. And you’d look so cute. And then, when we’re all done, I’ll tell you everything.” God. If anyone ever found out. Ms. Heller. Ava. Fuck…if Lyndie ever found out about this? I’d never hear the end of it. But it was just once. And only Megan would know about it. And, in the end, it’d be for information that would help everyone else. And…if I was being completely honest, I was a little curious. “Just once?” I asked. “And you swear that nobody would ever know about it?” “Not a soul,” she said. “Okay.” “Are you sure?” I nodded. “I’m in. When did you want to do this? And…I’m assuming we wouldn’t do it here.” “Are you free this weekend?” she asked. “Well…I’m pretty busy on Saturday, but–” “Perfect, Sunday works for me too. Here’s my number,” she said, sliding a piece of paper across her desk. “Text me later and let me know when you can drop by on Sunday.” “Drop by…to your place?” “Do you want me to come to your place?” she asked. I did not want Evan to know about this either. “No, your place will be just fine.” “Excellent. Text me, Clark.” “I will.” “And one more thing?” “Yes?” “Try to think of a cute girl name,” said Megan. “I’d like to know what to call my sissy friend.” Note from QH: This chapter sets up a pretty brief sissy kink subplot in upcoming chapters. However, in the time that’s elapsed since I’ve written this, I’ve had some second thoughts about its inclusion. That is to say–if I was to do it again, I probably wouldn’t include the sissy kink into this story at all. Still, I’m presenting the chapters as they were originally written–mostly because this chapter has already been shared, as is, with other readers. All this to say: If you have any thoughts or concerns about how this topic is addressed in the story, I encourage you to share them with me.

Well, here goes. I've been a lurker on this site for quite some time, and whilst I've enjoyed reading a great many of the stories people have posted here, I've struggled to pick up a metaphorical pen and write something myself. Whilst I never struggle for ideas, motivating myself to sit down and actually flesh them out into actual stories has always been a problem for me. Now though, I've got something written and edited to where I'm comfortable sharing it. This isn't the first bit of ABDL fiction I've ever written, but it is the first I've published here. So, without letting this awkward ramble go on any longer, here's chapter 1 of Breaking Ground. A fanfic set in the same world as @Little Sherri's Shifting Sands. Written with very kind permission from the author. Any and all feedback, criticism, advice and even suggestions would be greatly welcomed. Breaking Ground Chapter 1 - Stranger in a Strange Land “George? Earth to George, we’re here buddy.” The boy in question pulled his face up from where it had been buried in the backlit screen of his Nintendo 3DS. He’d been too busy losing himself in the game to hear the voice of his godmother. Or even realise that the car had stopped moving. Hastily, he slid the plastic stylus he’d been using to dictate battle commands back into the slot on the back of the console and closed the screen, the colourful, pixelated Pokémon adventure cutting to instant black. “Sorry.” He spoke quietly as he sheepishly slid the metallic blue rectangle into the pocket of his jeans and met her expectant gaze in the driver's mirror. Blue eyes looked at him as he fumbled to undo the seatbelt and shuffle over towards the door of the absurdly large SUV to pull on the handle and let himself out, only to find it wouldn’t budge. It took him another try to realise that just shoving wasn’t going to accomplish anything as he looked around for what was keeping him locked in, as his godmother let herself out without issue and moved over to the back passenger side of the car. With a click, the mystery was answered, as the little lock thingy on the door popped up, and George felt a little embarrassed that he’d not realised the child lock was engaged. Did she really need to use that? He wasn’t some toddler. There was a soft clunk as the door pulled open and George was free to leave, swinging his legs around and half jumping out of the car onto the pavement next to the spot they’d parked in. Or sidewalk, as everyone else here would call it. “Let's go.” His guardian smiled reassuringly at him in the way adults do when they’re trying to get you to think something won’t be a big deal, but never really make you feel any better. She’d slipped a pair of sunglasses on, and George was starting to wish he’d said yes when she’d offered to bring him a pair when they’d left the house. Alice – it was always Alice, she insisted he not call her Mrs Warding – had dressed for the hot summer weather in a pair of bright blue jeans and a light grey tank top. George was dressed in jeans as well, along with a plain green shirt that fitted snugly enough under the jeans that he didn’t need to bother with a belt. Both items of clothing were brand new. He’d ripped the tags off them himself just this morning. He’d been rather surprised to discover them, and an entire wardrobe’s worth of new clothes waiting for him when he’d arrived at Alice’s home two days ago. Between the new clothes, the fancy car, the massive house and idyllic suburb it resided in, one thing had become clear to George in his short time spent in her care – his godmother was absolutely loaded. It wasn’t a total surprise to discover that. He’d never had much of an interest or knowledge of his mother's circle of friends, least of all one whom he’d never really met before and who lived on the other side of the world. But he’d picked up enough to know that she was some successful businessperson of some sort. Now, it was his mother who was now on the other side of the world and felt so distant from him, even after just a few days. He raised up a hand to shield the worst of the sun's gaze as he followed along besides Alice. He stuck close beside her, in a manner perhaps not quite befitting an eleven-year-old boy as they passed by a few buildings towards their destination. George knew that he should probably be more excited to be here, but recent events had dampened his attitude somewhat. When his mum had first floated the idea of him spending the summer holidays in America with his godmother, he had jumped at the idea. Sure, he didn’t really know Alice, but she was someone that his mother trusted. And any further concerns were overshadowed by the amazing prospect of escaping to a whole other country for seven weeks. For George, the chance to swap another dull and dreary summer in Northern England, for somewhere as cool as the States was a no-brainer. Any of his peers or friends would have jumped at the chance to go. What George hadn’t counted on was that Washington State was a ten-hour flight from London, which had meant an additional domestic flight to deal with to get down south. Multiple flights, stopovers, and half the day spent listening to the drone of engines had combined with acute jetlag to make George very tired and somewhat grouchy by the time it was all over. Alice had taken it in stride, but George could tell at the time that even she was strained by the days travel, and he’d been glad to simply be driven to his new home for the summer and stumble into bed, not even bothering to change clothes before falling asleep in the middle of the Cascadian day. What he’d woken up to in the middle of the night, and the night again after that, was the reason they were out shopping now. “Um, Alice.... Alice.” He repeated himself to grab her attention as they got towards the automatic doors to the convenience store. “Everything ok George?” “I just, uh. Well, do we have to?” He asked, smiling and pleading for his sentence to be reconsidered. “I’m really sorry. I swear it's never happened before, like ever. It was probably just all the jetlag, and all the coke I had with dinner, right? I don’t really need to bother with all of this...” He trailed off and started blushing, afraid of speaking any louder with strangers around or getting into specifics. Alice smiled and leaned down slightly to give his shoulder a squeeze. “Hey, it's not a big deal buddy, I promise. And you definitely don’t need to be sorry about it. These things happen, alright?” “But- “Buts are for ashtrays, as my grandmother used to say. You’re not in trouble for anything George, is that what’s bothering you?” She asked, concern in her voice. George knew this wasn’t him being in trouble and getting punished for it. But that wasn’t the point. He didn’t need this. They didn’t need to be here. “No...” He mumbled. He wished he could go back to the Pokémon gym battle that had taken his mind off things for the drive over here. “I know you think this is embarrassing. That’s ok. But you really don’t need to be. You’re far from the only boy in the world dealing with it. Now come on, the sooner we start, the sooner we finish, and we can go get a burger for lunch afterwards. Sound good?” She tried to tempt him. George managed a small smile at the offer. That did sound good. They practically never ate out at home. Mostly because his mom always fussed over his diet being high enough in fat and sodium already. Alice didn’t give him the chance to hesitate further, as she walked through into the store, and George followed, quickly stepping out of the way of a large man pushing a full shopping cart coming the other way. Having narrowly avoided getting his toes crushed, he realised that this probably wasn’t the best place to try and restart an argument about the necessity of this trip. His well-worn white and grey trainers squeaked slightly on the dull red-and-black-chequered tiling on the floor as he caught up to Alice, who had already acquired a red plastic basket from a nearby stack and slung it over her arm. He didn’t say anything further as he walked beside her down the main artery of the store. It was a local convenience place, not one of the big American chains. Or at least not one George had ever heard of. Still, it was a store, and since this trip was meant to be for him, he didn’t pull his game out of his pocket but instead settled for letting his eyes wander over the rows of shelves and occasionally the people who roamed them. Window shopping was perhaps one of the dullest forms of entertainment a boy like Geroge could imagine, but his circumstances at least made this occasion interesting. The many unfamiliar brands and names, stuff he’d only ever heard of like Twinkies, or stuff they never really got a lot of back home, like pop tarts. And stuff he was plenty familiar with, especially as they passed the crisp aisle and a half dozen familiar brands could be seen. At one point they passed what seemed to be an entire row dedicated to peanut butter, and George couldn’t help but wonder who could possibly need so many flavours and versions of the stuff. The food section came to an end as they entered an aisle offering fishing gear, tools, batteries, and other such supplies. It reminded him of the one rather miserable camping experience he’d had in his life – A rain and mud filled weekend spent in a freezing forest with a few other unfortunate members of the local Boy's Brigade chapter. It had been advertised as an adventure, but George mostly remembered the unending rain that soaked them to the skin and the portable stove that never seemed to stay on. Now he was with Alice, he wondered if a camping trip was something she might have planned for them. He knew there were a lot of woods and wilderness around this part of the country. It took so long to get to where they were going that it felt like it was almost deliberate. Rapidly running out of store, he felt almost like a prisoner being led to the gallows as they moved down the main aisle, with Alice as his cheery jailer. It seemed it was now or never to ask for a stay of execution. “I don’t need this.” He said quietly, a slight bitterness to his tone. Alice didn’t seem to hear. “Alice, we don’t need to -” “George, we’re right here, come on.” She reached out her hand that wasn’t cradling the basket and took his unexpectedly, her warm palm pressing into his as she pulled him down a side aisle. He felt her give him a gentle squeeze of reassurance that only served to make him feel even smaller, as he looked up and saw the wooden sign attached to the top of the shelving unit. Medicine & Hygiene Such an innocuous term still left blushes of crimson forming in his cheeks as he consciously took a breath and looked around him. He could see stacks of shampoo and bars of soap, toothpaste and toothbrushes in plastic wrappers. Various packs of pills and painkillers. Something called Tylenol, which it took him a second to remember was what they called Paracetamol over here. Cotton swabs, a few bottles of face lotion. It seemed they had a bit of everything here, and George felt his sense of dread grow as he waited to catch sight of what they had come for, and what he deduced had to be here somewhere. “Oh, here we go!” Alice sounded far too chipper for George's liking, and he looked over to see what she was looking at. Portraits of smiling toddlers and younger kids looked back at him through shiny plastic or cardboard packaging,flanked by white numbers and colourful images and patterns. “Let's see here then, what do they have?” Alice browsed for a few seconds as George developed a sudden fascination with the ingredients list on a bottle of shampoo. “They might be a bit snug, but I think these will probably fit you.” George blinked slowly, and felt his heart start to sink as he saw the pink plastic package Alice was holding out to present to him. His eyes shifted from looking at the packaging to Alice, then back again as he tried to figure out if she was joking. “These are for girls!” He blurted out. Alice tried to hand the package of Girls’ Goodnights to him, but he adamantly refused to take hold of it, letting go of her hand. He felt the heat of anger building within him. This wasn’t fair, it was total crap! He didn’t need any of this! He wasn’t a bedwetter, never had been, his entire life! It was just jet lag, or being somewhere new, or his parents' troubles, or some other bullshit. I. Don’t. Need. It. He took a shaky breath. This wasn’t fair. This was meant to be an amazing summer. A seven-week long holiday of trying cool new stuff in a cool new place. Meeting the godmother that he’d never met before, maybe make some new friends and explore a whole new world that all seemed so interesting. Instead, he’d screwed it all up on the very first night. He still felt humiliated by that episode, and thinking more intently about it was poking at a very raw psychological wound. “Sorry buddy, they don’t have a lot here that would fit you.” Alice told him. “It won’t make a difference whether it's for boys or girls, the protection is all the same.” Protection. George winced as she spoke the word. He didn’t need protection! He didn’t wet the bed! He didn’t! “I’m not wearing that.” He declared, his attempt to sound assertive betrayed by the slight shake in his voice. Alice blinked slowly and George could detect a barely audible sigh from his godmother as she leaned down to get at eye level with him. “George, look at me.” Her voice was soft, but compelling in its demands. He met her look. “I’m on your side here George. I’m trying to help solve a problem with a solution. If you had a headache, and I asked you to take a painkiller for it, would you be so reluctant to take it? Would you rather be going around with something you can fix because you’re scared to take a pill?” “I’m not scared.” He huffed. “Then what’s the issue, big guy?” He looked down at the package she was holding and hoped he wouldn’t be made to spell out the obvious. Alice continued to look at him like she was waiting on him, and with a renewed feeling of dread George realised he was going to have to say it. “They’re nappies! Girls' nappies! I'm not a baby!” He tried to sum it up in as few words as possible. Like every syllable made it more real. “George, I never said you were a baby. And acting like one in the supermarket isn’t helping anyone now, is it?” She spoke like she was talking to someone half his age. “Listen to me George. I’m trying to help you here, but I can’t do that if you don’t let me. I made a promise to your mother that I would look after you this summer, and make sure you had an amazing holiday. Now I can’t keep that promise without your help, understand?” The defiance seemed to deflate out of George as he listened to his godmother, replaced with a pang of guilt at the mention of his mother. He wasn’t privy to everything going on at home, but he wasn’t stupid either. He knew things were worse than usual right now, and part of him was suspicious that it might have something to do with why she’d so readily accepted the idea of him spending the summer in Washington. He felt obliged to nod slightly at Alice's question before she continued. “You’re meant to be having fun this summer George. And how much fun can you be having if you’re waking up to wet sheets every morning, hm? If I’m changing those sheets every morning, that’s less time for me to take you places and more time spent doing work we could avoid, isn’t it?” He felt another pang of guilt. Alice might have said she didn’t blame him for the extra laundry, but it didn’t change the fact that it was extra laundry. She was doing a lot for him, he supposed. There was no way he’d even be here if Alice wasn’t the one paying for everything. “But these are girls ones...” He protested the secondary point weakly, as he looked over at the mostly bare shelf Alice had picked the Goodnites up from. It was slim pickings. Apart from four other packs of Goodnites – all girls ones – there were a dozen or so packs of proper baby nappies in various sizes, and a solitary pack of pull-ups training pants. The cartoon smile of Dora the Explorer seemed to mock him from the soft plastic packaging. “Well, this is all they have.” Alice stated the obvious, as George moved over and began to look through the rest of the packages more closely. Spending any time at all rooting through the nappy aisle was beyond humiliating, and he couldn’t help making repeated paranoid glances down either end of the shelves in case someone was coming their way. His hopes reduced to the idea of finding some form of protection that wouldn’t completely make him die of embarrassment. Just one stupid pack of boys Goodnites. Just one. That he might at least be able to tolerate, and it would satisfy Alice’s requirements. There was nothing of the sort. The absolute best he could find was a pack of Easy-Ups training pants themed after Thomas the Tank Engine. The anthropomorphic train wasn’t something he’d ever thought he’d see again after he turned five. Least of all like this. At least it wasn’t Dora. Alice must have seen him looking at the package, because she reached forward and picked that one up as well. A look crossed her face as she seemed to look over the alternative with a critical eye that quickly glanced back at George before returning to the examination. “Hm. I suppose they might work as well. They’ll probably be a bit on the snug side, but if you really don’t want to wear the Goodnites, I suppose we can give them a go.” Now George found himself looking between the Easy-Ups and the Goodnites. His godmother’s concession didn’t feel like one. It left him picking between two humiliating options and he couldn’t decide which one was worse right now. Girly Butterflies or babyish trains. He’d have to pick his poison that night it seemed. Without another word, she picked both packages up and dropped them into the basket, mercifully out of open view. They were still stuck in that part of the store however, and George found himself going right back to glancing around for other shoppers as Alice took her sweet time leisurely looking over one of the shampoo bottles. “Is that all?” George didn’t want to sound rude, but his anxiety was still waxing, his fingernails digging into his palm as he tried to prod his guardian. He didn’t want to be here a second longer than they needed to. “I was hoping we could pick up some snacks while we’re here. I saw you staring earlier, you know.” She smiled at him then motioned for him to take her hand again, which he did reluctantly. Did she think he was going to get lost here or something? As they passed back the way that had come, George caught sight of one of those cardboard signs that hung down from a shelf. It had been right on the dividing line between the nappies section and the other toiletries. The distinctive green banner of the Pampers branding looked back at him, framing a picture of a pair of the training pants hanging around the ankles of a set of disembodied lower legs that hovered slightly off the ground, clearly meant to imply the owner of the legs was sitting on the toilet that was framed behind them. Going from left to right, the picture of the training pants changed halfway through to become a pair of plain blue Y fronts with thick white rims around the waist and leg hole. The slogan, split on either side of the picture, read: “They think it's underwear. You know it's Pampers.” Ironically, the branding on the training pants in the advertisement were for something called “PJ Masks.” Which to George seemed to be a little kids superhero show, but still looked leagues less babyish than the Thomas themed ones he was now stuck with. They think it's underwear. You know it's Pampers. George felt his face burning as he read the line, and quickly forced himself to look elsewhere. It didn’t mean anything; it was just a dumb line from an advert.

Hi, folks- I've decided to try my hand at putting a story together. This is my first attempt, so please be patient with me. This is a work of fiction; there are a couple of loosely autobiographical details in it, but for the most part, I mined the feelings I recall having had in certain situations or moments, and then expanded on them, rather than simply recounting personal experiences, most of which probably would not be worthy of documentation. The main character is more or less starting his story at an age where my personal story went in the opposite direction from his; I was growing out of diapers, and I eventually came to realize that I wanted to be back in them, whereas his response to his situation is more conventional, reflecting how I felt about my predicament when I was younger, before I had entirely grasped what it was that I wanted. I had a love-hate relationship with wearing plastic underpants, early on. I wish to pause for a moment to thank many of the excellent writers here. @MinnesotaWriter comes immediately to mind because I recently read one of his works, along with @BabySofia, @diaperedboilerman, @Babydoc49, and @Elfy but so many of you have taken the time to pen cogent, articulate, interesting, and even poignant pieces, drawn from your experiences, your fertile imaginations, or both. I'm honoured (please forgive the Canuck spelling) to be able to proffer my scribblings alongside the likes of you. Shifting Sands Chapter 1 – Privacy Not on the Menu Music broke into Zack’s sleep. Reflexively, his hand shot for the alarm clock that cradled and charged his phone, his fingers reading the unseen buttons like braille, selecting the snooze function. He rolled over under the covers and tried to swim back towards the sleep depths that he had been yanked from. However, his descent was halted by an unwelcome dampness at his right hip after he shifted. Crap. He kicked back the covers and stepped out of bed, found the remote for the LED strip lighting that encircled his room, and selected the brightest, whitest setting. The room was bathed in a blue-white glow reminiscent of a hospital corridor. In the middle of his dark blue sheet was a damp spot about the size of a dinner plate. What a pain in the ass. He flipped his blue tartan duvet over and scanned it for signs of contact with the wet spot. It seemed to be unscathed, although on that pattern, it was hard to tell. Then he felt around the bottom edge of his light blue Batman t-shirt and the waist of his matching pajama pants. Both were wet on the left side. Side leak. Again. He threw his comforter onto the floor at the end of his bed, tossed his pillows on top of it, and then deftly stripped the sheets off the bed. He ran his hand over the mattress protector and found the damp spot near the center. The plasticized surface only needed to be spot cleaned. Zack reserved washing the whole ensemble for the weekend, when he also washed the duvet cover, unless either developed a detectable odor. This was a Monday, so a complete stripping of the bed was not in the cards. Zack walked over to his dresser, took a Lysol wipe from a container, and gave the damp zone on the mattress cover a quick swab. He stepped on the peddle of the Diaper Genie stashed discretely between the end of his dresser, and the wall, and dropped the wipe inside. He pulled his pajamas off and tossed them on top of the balled-up sheets on the floor, and then surveyed himself in his mirrored closet doors. His pull-up bulged a bit at the front but didn’t seem unusually wet. He ran a hand over the stretchy side panel on the left, and it came away wet. The front of the garment was printed to look like boxer shorts with a blue camouflage motif, complete with a painted on, fake fly. However, the light blue stretchy side panels screamed ‘pull-up’. In one quick motion, he hooked the waistband at both hips with his thumbs, and dropped it to the floor, balled it up and tossed it in the genie with the wipe. He twisted the top around a couple of times, wrapping the contents in a plastic sleeve for all eternity. Diaper Genie. Why not Pull-Up Genie? Or, nothing at all? Do toilets say “Poop Genie” on them? Zack grabbed a robe from out of the closet, thew it over his shoulders, and crossed the hallway to the bathroom he shared with his younger sister. At least she wasn’t in there. He didn’t know if she was already downstairs, or still in her room. Hopefully, the former. He locked the door, stepped into the shower stall, and quickly rinsed off. There was no need to wash his hair; he had done that the previous evening, when he usually showered, because as often as not, he was returning from softball practice, at least in the warmer months. The purpose of this shower was a quick, discreet rinse. The intended discretion was derailed when Maddy, his nine-year-old sister, tried rotating the doorknob, and finding it locked, started banging on the door with a closed fist. “Zack! What the heck, dude! I need to comb my hair! You took a shower last night! Why you havin’ another shower, Zack? I’m gonna be late for my bus!” “I’ll be out in a second” he said loudly, then, quieter, “… and please SHUT UP.” Maddy, catching the seriousness of his tone, stopped hammering on the door, but remained standing directly in front of it. Zack shut the water down before it had time to get warm, toweled off, and cinched up his robe before opening the door. Maddy stood there in a pink, princess-themed nightdress, holding a purple hairbrush. “What happened?” she whispered. “You wet your bed again?” “Listen, Princess Pull-Ups, that’s none of your business.” Zack’s reminder that he wasn’t the only one still wearing protective underclothes to bed struck Maddy as an injustice that could not go unanswered, especially as she had dropped her voice, as he requested. “Yeah, well, mom says that I’m gonna be done with them soon, unlike SOME people around here.” Zack looked down at his sister. “DON’T call her MOM. She’s Kelly. She is not our mom. Now get out of my way.” He side-stepped past her before she could move, strode into his room, and used his foot to close the door behind him. His alarm clock was playing music from his phone again. He looked at the time – 7:34. He could just get a load of laundry going, and maybe wolf down a piece of toast, before his bus showed up. Extracting a grey Adidas t-shirt and a black zippered hoodie from a basket of clean laundry, he pulled the shirt on while simultaneously selecting boxers and a pair of athletic shorts from his dresser. No drawn-on fly on these. Bundling up his nightwear and his sheet, he trotted down the stairs. Unfortunately, the laundry room was located in a mudroom between the kitchen and the garage, so he was going to have to walk through the kitchen with a bundle of laundry in his hands. Again. He hoped that maybe Kelly had left early for her morning jog. His dad, he knew, would already be well on his way to work. No such luck. Kelly was sitting at the “chef’s desk” (as she called it), a section of countertop hung between two cabinets, where her Mac laptop was located. He sighed inwardly. For it to be a “chef’s desk” don’t you have to know how to cook? Kelly sighed outwardly, when she saw him crossing the room with his bundle of textiles. “Oh, Zackie. Poor boy. Did you at least sleep okay?” “I slept fine, thanks. Listen, I gotta get going – can you put a piece of toast down for me? And when is dad back tonight?” Kelly got up and walked to the fridge as Zack shouldered the laundry room door open and began stuffing the washing machine. He tossed a detergent pod into the machine, closed the door, twisted the knob to ‘quick wash’, and hit start. “Your Dad’s at a conference today so he’s probably going to be back late. I’ll make dinner for you guys.” “Sure.” “And listen, at some point, we need to talk about… that.” She glanced toward the laundry room door he had just emerged from. Yeah, like I want to talk to YOU about that. Kelly read the flash of hostility in her stepson’s eyes and quickly changed gears. “Listen, buddy boy, don’t get too big for your britches. When your dad isn’t here, I am the other parent. I can shut you down in a heartbeat.” Zack didn’t know what “shutting him down” might consist of and decided not to ask. Kelly had been his stepmother for over a year, and had been with his dad for almost three years, but neither of those realities had ever been run by Zack for approval. He was along for the ride. He felt like saying something smart in retort but decided against it. Not enough time. And, he’d have to deal with Kelly again after school; there was no point pulling the pin on her now. Anyway, Kelly was okay most of the time. She wasn’t completely intolerable, he just didn’t like her trying to dig into what he considered to be his business. She wanted to be involved in more aspects of his life than he wanted her involved with. She wants to be my mom. Not going to happen. The toast popped up and she turned to dress it. Organic multigrain, no doubt. The spread was probably vegan and made with seaweed or something. She just went ahead and slathered it on, didn’t ask. It had been bad enough having to move out of the house he grew up in, but if they could have landed on some neutral ground, maybe that would have been easier. But no, they had moved into HER house. And she had gone into full-on instant mom mode, furnishing and decorating their rooms before they even got there. There was no consultation with him or Maddy. His bedroom had motorcycle wallpaper, and he did not give a crap about motorcycles. Maddy’s room had fairies on the walls, but she was easier to please. She had positively gushed about it. Not Zack. He’d shrugged. His bed and his dresser set were solid dark wood pieces, nicer than anything he’d had as a little kid. The bed was much bigger than his old one, and the bedding was more grown up, too, none of which he minded. But within a week of moving in, Diaper Genies appeared in both of their rooms. He just came home from school one day, and it was there. In their bathroom, the garbage can had a Post-It note stuck to the lid: No Nappies. What the hell are ‘Nappies’, he had wondered? The mattress protectors went into service the same day; he didn’t realize it was even on there until he’d sat down on the bed and felt a bit of a crunch. Then, he realized that the box of pull-ups he’d thrown into the back of his closet had been partially unpacked into one of his dresser drawers. Just another sign that this might be his room, but it was her house. And evidently, privacy was not on the menu at Chez Kelly. Chapter 2 – Kelly’s Homework Zack walked out the front door and closed it behind him, a little harder than Kelly would have liked. Kids that age, in her day, where she grew up, would not have betrayed their displeasure with their seniors nearly as readily, but that was an issue with practically all the kids she knew these days. It had been three decades since she’d lived in England; she wondered if maybe things were different over there. They probably weren't. The internet encouraged a kind of cultural cross-pollination among young people that was sometimes good, but more often not, in her opinion. Thinking about the internet, Kelly decided to sit down in front of her Mac, and see if she’d had any responses to the question that she’d posed in a Moms of Bedwetters forum that one of her friends from the gym had suggested she look into. She’d thought about the wording for a while, before she posted it, and finally settled on focusing it just on Zack, rather than including Maddy’s issues. Maddy was nine, after all, and she seemed to on a trajectory that would have her out of the habit before too long. Zack, on the other hand, looked to be picking up momentum in the other direction. She reread her post. Hello; I am the mother of an eleven-year-old boy who has had bedwetting issues since he was little. We thought he would outgrow them at some point, however they seem to be getting worse, rather than better. He wears pull-up nappies to bed, but he’s been leaking through them lately, which is causing a lot of laundry, and interfering with his sleep. Plus, he would like to attend sleepovers like other kids his age can, but we can’t in good conscience allow it. We even suspect he may have had the odd accident during the day; having shown no interest whatsoever in doing his own laundry, sometimes, out of the blue, he will change and throw his outfit into the machine as soon as he gets home from school or softball. Of course, he runs just his own small load – he does not go see if there is anything else that needs washed. Help! - Concerned Mom There were several responses to her missive, recommending everything from mattress protectors (she’d already bought them), to bedwetting alarms, to restricting fluids, and suggestions for herbs, natural remedies, and pharmaceuticals that were supposed to help. The one that caught her attention, however, was one of the shortest. Hi – it sounds like you’re going through what I went through a few years ago. I tried everything before I finally turned to an expert, and I have to tell you, it has made a world of difference in our family. Look up Dr. Amanda Paige’s website. Some people here call her Dr. Diapers, but I call her a miracle worker. What got Kelly’s attention, even more than the concise post, was the number of responses after it, confirming what the post suggested. Yes definitely call Dr. Paige Dr. Diapers is the one to speak to for sure My friend used Dr. Paige and said she was a huge help Don’t let this continue – for your sanity, call Dr. Amanda, you won’t regret it, she’s a one-stop shop Curiosity piqued; Kelly punched ‘Dr. Amanda Paige’ into her browser. There were a few hits that came up: a local chiropractor, a cardiologist in another state, an obstetrician from Canada. Then, she tried ‘Dr. Amanda Paige diapers’, and the first entry that resulted looked like it was what she was looking for. Dr. Amanda Paige – Cognitive Behavioral Therapist, Child Psychologist, Sleep Therapist Do you have a child that suffers from nocturnal enuresis (bedwetting), urinary incontinence, difficulty concentrating, trouble with falling or staying asleep, moodiness, and other academic and social problems that can stem from these issues? We are here for you. We have helped hundreds of children, teens and their families to live better lives. Many services covered by insurance. There was a ‘Shop’ button at the top of the page, but when Kelly clicked on it, it asked for a patient number. She clicked on the contact link and copied the address and phone number into a note. Then she hit the ‘Contact Us’ option, and an email form popped up. Kelly entered her contact information and then copied and pasted her original post from the forum, into the form, with only mild editing: Hello; I am the mother of an eleven-year-old boy who has had bedwetting issues since he was little. We thought he would outgrow them at some point, however they seem to be getting worse, rather than better. He wears pull-up nappies to bed, but he’s been leaking through them lately, which is causing a lot of laundry, and interfering with his sleep. Plus, he would like to attend sleepovers like other kids his age can, but we can’t in good conscience allow it. We even suspect he may have had the odd accident during the day. He is sometimes moody and withdrawn, and he has trouble staying on task when he is tired. I was referred to you by a number of people on a bedwetters advice forum. Please let me know what the next step is. – Kelly Fischer Kelly decided to throw in the bit about difficulty with concentrating, to make sure that she ticked enough boxes to seem worthy of professional consideration. She wasn’t sure if Zack had issues concentrating at school or not – his grades were above average but below tremendous – however, at home, he seemed distracted a lot of the time. And moody. Yes, definitely moody. Kelly got up from her desk and went to let the dog, a terrier mix named Roofus (whom they often called ‘Wolfus’) out into the backyard, and then went to get changed to go for her morning jog. The late spring weather was ideal for outdoor activity, so she tried to squeeze in as much of it as she could, before the summer heat drove her back indoors. It had been an unusually pleasant spring for the Pacific Northwest, with less rain than usual, and to take full advantage of it, they had elected to head up to a cottage owned by Kelly's sister, Kim, and her family, for the week after school ended. This was yet another aspect of her life that Zack’s issues would probably impact – she’d have to find out what size his bed was going to be, so she could get a cover for it. Roofus outside, Kelly got dressed for her run, and had a quick glance at her computer as she walked past it to let the dog in. She already had a reply from Dr. Paige’s office, which Kelly found to be impressively responsive. Evidently, she had struck the right tone with her first communication. Hello, Mrs. Fischer – my name is Ellen Chan; I am Dr. Paige’s assistant. Thank you for reaching out to us. The next step in this process is to meet with Dr. Paige. You can call me at the number in my signature, to book an appointment, or, we can do it by email if you prefer. We’d like to meet Zack at the same time, if possible, and it would be useful if you could bring any medical records or prescription medications you might have for him. If you have a recent report card, that could be helpful as well. Feel free to call me. I will also note a couple of openings we have this week: Wednesday at 4 PM or Thursday at 7 PM. Next week we have more openings, so if those don’t work for you, let me know what time of day you prefer. Dr. Paige works late on Thursdays and also offers appointments every second Saturday. We are closed Mondays. Regards, Ellen Chan. Kelly open her calendar app. Zack had no softball on Wednesday. She could likely leave Maddy at one of her friends’ houses. The chances of Chris being home were slim; he usually worked until the early evening. This wasn’t something he’d likely want to attend, anyway, and it would probably be better if he didn’t, because he tended to downplay the situation, believing that Zack would outgrow these issues. He might not even agree to send Zack. Kelly wanted to at least hear what the doctor had to say, before deciding if she could be of any help. Chris had been doing nothing except buying the pull-on nappies for them, which Kelly considered reactive, at best. It was time for a proactive approach. Dear Ellen, thank you very much for your quick response. I would like to take advantage of your opening on Wednesday afternoon at 4 PM. I will bring Zack straight from school. I don’t have a lot in terms of medical records for him, and he doesn’t take any medications, but I will bring some report cards with me. I look forward to meeting with you and Dr. Paige. Best, - Kelly Fischer She hit send on the reply, put her headphones in, shoes on, and headed out into the bright sunlight to enjoy her morning run, feeling like she’d already accomplished something important this week, and it was barely 10 AM on Monday.

Well I do agree on some of your points. I am an Apple only household . I have a lot of older Mac's I use them for different purposes I don't think if an Apple computer is still being used every day some of mine are 24/7 that it was made to fail. I do think a lot of stuff is however made to fail. I did TV etc repair for over 20 yrs . I have old 1930's radios that still work, I have 1950's Tvs that still work. But some things like a TV old is analog and new is digital, makes it harder to use. I have repaired things way back from the tube days and I still have maybe 400 tubes. However new Tv's like the flat screen are not worth a repair. I run our main TV 24/7 and they will last 3-5 yrs and I will just trash it and buy new, like most people . I left the repair field yrs ago when a VCR came down to a $25 thing. I did repairs and I remember some home VCR's that the repair was $600. I fixed Umatic 1" tape size VCR's and the repairs on some were way over a $1000.00 . I am of the older lost generation of FIX it.

i have the house to myself again for about 5 hours so I have on a 4 tape cloth backed Attends with a booster pad, my xx large rustle plastic pants I got from Protex Medical and a pair of blue camo short legged shorts. I wish I could hear the Protex Rustle pants rustle more when I walk. The shorts dampen the sound.

Yes. Feedback, I would say many things but many stories get ruined by being consumed by there topic. Gotta take it slow and enjoy every moment and character. Your story is really understandable with realistic parts so easy to follow. So many endless possibilities already so im hooked. Can't wait 😊

An excellent opening chapter. Always a treat whenever you post something - and a new story as well! Going to be interesting to see where this one goes, though I already have some thoughts.

No. There's nothing more uncomfortable. If anyone is trying to find a way to punish me that's it

Why are you trying to ruin a thread that doesn’t concern you?

Welcome

Welcome to DD!

I hope that was just the thing Jamie needed. Note I still used Jamie instead of James because even after his successful day and the talk with Doctor Susan I still think he is going to fight being in TYME. This was a wonderful chapter and I am so looking forward to reading more of the story.

Cute diaper! I'm of course wearing a crinklz today, and brought a spare to change into at work

I don't understand why people are complaining about the heat in the summer and the cold in the winter posting temperatures as if its a competition.

Thanks I'm new to all this good to find ppl on the same page as I am

Chapter 31: The End? Gurgle– (I’m such a fucking–) GURGLE– “Ow–dammit. Dammit.” GURGLE– (–fucking, fucking idiot.) Blrblrbl– Molten, putrid fluids poured out of her, into her fourth diaper of the hour, staining the seat a pale brown. She just lay there, on the bathroom floor, staying on her changing mat–why leave, when she’d just be right back on it in a minute? Her intent had been to take an intense dose of laxatives and purposefully induce repeated messy accidents, so that Pearce would have to change her every few minutes until he gave up. Technically, that had worked, but that was just the start. Grace hadn’t bothered to read the box, she’d just taken the laxative chocolate and committed to her plan. Four rectangles of slightly chalky almost-candy, swallowed in a few bites, because she didn’t want to risk chickening out and sulking for another week. She had to end the bet immediately–or, at least, that’d been her thought at the time. She’d been impulsive, and stupid, and not considered the side effects, not planned on how hard it would hit her. By the time she realized she’d made a mistake, it’d been far, far too late to back out. Now she had to lie on her back and try to decide which aspect of her situation made her more miserable. The pain, obviously, was a strong contender–she’d never felt cramps this bad in her life. Even before she started birth control, when her periods had been regular and painful, the cramps had never been this bad. Even compared to the worst day she could remember, it was a walk in the park compared to this. Her intestines felt like they wanted to come alive and strangle her, and since they were regretfully trapped inside her tummy, they’d chosen instead to self immolate in protest. Every few moments, she’d feel a spasm, and her body would uncontrollably release into her diaper, an act as painful as it was humiliating. She was thirsty, and sweaty, and overwhelmed by signals all over from a body in revolt. The only thing that could challenge the pain for the top spot in her personal hell was the deep, personal, and utterly consuming shame. She’d proven herself as thoughtless and selfish as Pearce probably assumed she was, and she’d pulled herself into a self destructive spiral. A whimpering, crying mess on the floor, in need of constant attention, constant care, constant disgusting diaper changes. If her point already hadn’t been proven, it would be now. She’d become the perfect burden, the kind nobody would care for. Pearce was going to hate her after this. And he’d be right to do so. Another cramp hit her, but her body was out of contents to drain, so nothing poured into her diaper–though the cramps did force tears down her cheeks. (Fuck. Fuck.) She wanted to get creative with her vulgarity, to at least come up with a cleverly phrased tirade, but she lacked the mental bandwidth for that. Too much of her brain was overtaken by one-note ideas and impulses; Hurts, and Cry, and Shame, and Push, and (I’m so fucking stupid.) “Grace?” Pearce pushed the door open, phone in one hand, and a bottle in the other. “I just talked to poison control. Good news is, you’re going to be OK.” (No I’m not,) Grace thought. Out loud, she asked, “How long?” “It’s…they weren’t sure.” Setting down his phone, Pearce rubbed at the back of his neck. “A few hours. Maybe, like…a day? We just have to wait it out, there’s not much else to be done. The guy said to make sure you get plenty of fluids and electrolytes, you’re going to get really dehydrated. And diaper rash is a concern.” Grace’s eyes widened and she sat up suddenly–a move she regretted as another cramp sent her right back down to the bathroom floor. “You told him?” she asked, sniffling. “About the bet?” “No.” Pearce knelt by her, nose wrinkling slightly as he got a whiff of her latest sloshy accident. “That was unprompted, but…I mean, the bet doesn’t help. Here.” He passed Grace the baby bottle, which had milky white fluid inside it. Grace eyed it suspiciously. “What’s this?” “Formula,” Pearce admitted, reaching into his pocket while he spoke. “It’s got electrolytes and calories, and you need something to keep up your strength. I have a delivery coming with more stuff for you, pedialyte and gatorade, but we needed something now, and I had this ready to go. Drink it.” “Pearce…” Grace started, wincing between words. “I don’t know–” “I do,” he responded confidently, taking out a little bottle of painkillers, shaking one into his hand. “I am responsible for making sure you’re fed, hydrated, and healthy. I say you need to drink your bottle, and swallow one of these. Instructions on the bottle say to only take three a day. I know you’ll probably want to take seventy two of them, but we’re sticking to the guidelines this time.” “I don’t–” Grace started, confused. “I wasn’t that stupid, I only took four.” Pearce stared at her blankly for a moment, incomprehension slowly dawning into shock. “Grace…the recommended dose is two squares, you ate four bars. There’s twelve squares in a bar.” Grace stared back, realizing just how fundamentally brainless she’d been. She hadn’t just been reckless and impulsive, she’d almost… It was a good thing she’d been working with ‘Gentle’ laxatives. Meekly, she accepted the pill, dry swallowed, and lifted the bottle to her lips. The cool, milky liquid down her throat helped quench her thirst and ease her discomfort, but it didn’t help her feel any less pathetic. Pearce had cut a bigger opening on the head so that it wouldn’t take fifty to get through a single bottle, but she still had to suckle like a newborn to get the refreshing fluids. Lying on the ground, sniffling and crying, she worked through the formula and helplessly ran through diaper after diaper: The consequences of her own actions had rendered her into more of a baby than all of Pearce’s teasing and tricks put together. She heard a tape rip, and looked down to see Pearce working on her diaper, a fresh one already ready to go. Lifting the bottle from her lips, Grace started to ask, “What’re yo–” Reaching over, he pushed it right back down, silencing her words. “Grace, I’m serious. You need fluids. Drink all of that, and when you’re done, that tea should be ready and you’re going to drink that too.” Grace wanted to protest, to argue. There was no point changing her diaper, not when she was cramping and voiding everything in her multiple times a minute, but Pearce wasn’t willing to listen. He took away her old diaper, wiped her clean, and squirted a dollop of anti-rash zinc cream into his hands, rubbing it in around her bottom and thighs. She cramped again, and though she couldn’t see and her senses down there had been numbed to the differences between cramps and squelches and pushing, she was pretty sure she got something on his hands. Shame coursed through her, and she watched for Pearce to flinch, to pull away in disgust, but he just reached for a baby wipe and kept working. Cream applied, he wrapped the new diaper between her thighs and taped it down. “There,” he said. “That should at least help a bit with the rashing. You finish that bottle, I’ll be right back.” She nodded and kept suckling, working to drain the formula–what else could she do? Pearce got to his feet, washed his hands in the sink, and left her there, alone with nothing but her thoughts and the soft whirr of the exhaust fan. He hadn’t given up, yet, but that was no surprise. Pearce wasn’t an asshole, and she required medical aid. Her plan had centered around exhausting him with full diapers, not a call to poison control and a price check on ambulance fees. That didn’t mean this could be counted as a success. She felt like a kid. Not a baby–well, a bit like a baby–but not really. Instead, the helplessness, the feeling of stupidity, the awareness of how badly she’d fucked up, how she was self-sabotaging and pushing everyone around her away… It made her feel like a fourteen year old, ear pressed against a door, eavesdropping for clues about punishment she already knew was coming. “It’s just a cry for attention. Obviously we need to stop the behavior, but you can’t let her have what she wants. When she acts out, you can’t coddle her, you need to show discipline.” “Where do you think she even got–” “It’s those friends of hers, I told you they were no good.” “Do you think she’ll be able to get her grades back up?” “Maybe, but you’re thinking too short term–what about when she’s grown up, when you aren’t there any more to keep her behavior in check? What if she thinks she’ll always have a safety net? You cannot respond to this sort of behavior with positive reinforcement.” “She’s never acted like this before.” “If I had a nickel for every time I’d heard that, I’d be able to count class sizes by nickels. She’s a teenager. It happens. But she won’t learn to stop behaving like this unless you teach her.” “Still…she’s always been such a good girl. Do we really need to be that harsh?” “I can tell you’re trying to do your best here, and I can see from her file that she’s stayed out of trouble until now. I suppose, given the circumstances, it might be alright to show a little grace.” She’d been stupid then. She was stupid now, too. She’d jumped without looking, without seeing how far it was to the bottom, and expected Pearce to be there to catch her. And Pearce, damn him, was there–ready to catch her, even though it meant he’d be crushed. If he’d just been a crummier person, this would have been easy. When he fucked up and abandoned her, she’d made sure the consequences fell squarely on his shoulders. Now, when she fucked up, he was taking it on himself, letting the consequences fall on his shoulders again. He was doing the work. Making phone calls, bringing food, ensuring her physical safety, and that was all. Like the previous week of emotionally distant diligence, only worse, because she knew what was coming. Pearce couldn’t take this any more. Burnout was inevitable, he already seemed exhausted every time they spoke. She could see it–he was struggling. She could see it in his slumped shoulders and defeated expressions: Every time he had to change her diaper, feed her, give her any kind of care, he had to fight to keep up the act. Grace knew the truth, because she knew how to read Pearce. His thoughts were incredibly obvious: (Is my distance enough to keep Grace from hurting me?) (Would it be so wrong if I just left her to fend for herself so I could go and focus on myself?) As soon as he thought she was safe, as soon as he didn’t have to worry that she’d literally shit herself to death, he’d say, ‘I’m forfeiting the bet, I can’t keep putting up with you anymore’. Maybe he’d put it better than that–find some tactful way to rephrase, ‘You’re a selfish, demanding burden whose recklessness and perfectionism are burning my life away from both ends,’ but he’d be thinking it, and she’d know what he really meant. She’d wanted him to forfeit, but not like this–her intent had been for him to get tired of responsibility, not for him to get tired of nannying a stupid, selfish, idiotic little girl who needed everyone else to clean up after her insecurities. Another cramp wracked her as she finished the bottle of formula, and her body’s spasm was timed to hit just as Pearce walked in, carrying two bottles of warm tea and a fluffy pillow tucked beneath his arm. “Hey,” he said, walking over to sit next to her, crossing his legs and getting down by her head. “Any help from the painkillers yet?” She shook her head–every cramp was as bad as the last. “Here, head up,” Pearce said, guiding the pillow to give her a little comfort. Once she’d rested her head on the cushion, he passed her one of the bottles of tea. “Drink this, too. It’s supposed to be an herbal calming thing that eases upset stomachs–I don’t know if it’ll do much here, but it can’t hurt to get you more fluids.” She took the bottle, watching him. He was glancing away, avoiding eye contact, lips moving slightly as he prepared what he was about to say. It was coming. She knew it, and her stomach dropped in a way that had nothing to do with the laxative overdose. “Grace,” Pearce said, voice trembling a little. “I…after tonight, I’m going to forfeit the bet. You win.” There it was. She’d gotten what she wanted, and what she feared the most. Swallowing, Pearce added, “I know you want it, bad, so there you go. I can’t have you hurting yourself like this, even if it was by accident. Nothing is worth this, nothing is worth pushing you to do this, so if it means you’re safe, if it means you won’t hurt anymore, you win. Your safety is all that matters.” Grace stared up at him, eyes widening. She’d already felt teary, but now her eyes felt wet for an entirely different reason–shock, not pain. He looked away again, lips twitching so much it looked like he was wrestling with the words he wanted to speak. “I–” Anxiety and fear struck her. The unknown of what he was about to say, how he’d let her down gently. Finally, he won the fight with his tongue and got it out. “Grace, I love you.” ... This is not the end! More is coming. My patrons and supporters have made this story possible, and continue to make it possible. Thank you so much for reading. https://www.patreon.com/PeculiarChangeling https://subscribestar.adult/peculiarchangeling

Apologies for the delay in the update, I've been very busy the last few weeks. This initial story has roughly 3 more parts and then will evolve into a new story with Kylie and a character that will be introduced in the next installment. I hope everyone is enjoying this story and is looking forward to more... I have to say the part after this I really really like a lot. PICK UP TIME As Kylie stood there, her freshly changed diaper crinkling softly beneath her, she heard a familiar voice behind her. Turning around, she saw her mother standing at the entrance of the daycare center, a mix of surprise and amusement evident on her face. Kylie's heart skipped a beat, a wave of both embarrassment and relief washing over her. “Well well well, look at you Kylie, what on earth happened today?" her mother exclaimed, a hint of laughter in her voice. She walked closer, taking in the sight of Kylie standing there with her diapered bottom on display, a pacifier clipped to her collar. Kylie's cheeks flushed with a mixture of humiliation and a strange sense of cuteness. Ms. Lily and Ms. Daisy welcomed Kylie's mother, explaining the situation with a mix of affection and amusement. "Oh, Mrs. Thompson, Kylie had quite the messy accident this morning, per our earlier discussion we thought it best to have her in the daycare for the rest of the day," Ms. Daisy explained, her voice laced with a touch of condescension. “Frankly.” She continued, “Kylie fit in quite well with us, I was a bit surprised how many diapers she went through, I think she might have little tummy bug or ate something that didn’t agree with her. Mrs. Thompson chuckled, shaking her head playfully. "Well, it looks like my little princess isn’t quite ready to keep up with the big kids, is she?" She glanced at Kylie, a twinkle in her eye. "I have to admit, she does look absolutely adorable just in her little diapers like this, albeit I was hopeful she’d be beyond this at her age.” Kylie's face burned with a mixture of embarrassment and resignation. She couldn't help but feel like a helpless baby in this moment, exposed to the playful teasing of her mother and the daycare staff. She glanced down at the new diaper chart in Ms. Daisy's hands, the evidence of her numerous changes throughout the day. Each mark on the chart seemed to deepen her sense of humiliation. “Well they all grow up at their own pace, and you know I think its pretty special to get to enjoy her being a little girl just a little longer.” Ms. Daisy says with a playful wink. Mrs. Thompson turned her attention to Ms. Daisy, her voice filled with mock concern. "Thank you for taking care of her today, Ms. Daisy. I hope she hasn't been too much trouble with all those messy diapers. Looks like we'll need to bring in some extra supplies for the future - I think we’ll keep her in the Daycare room for the foreseeable future until she shows she is at least mature enough to start asking for the potty.” She couldn't help but tease, her words dripping with playful sarcasm as she lent a playful wink to Ms. Daisy. Kylie's face grew even redder, her eyes downcast as she overheard the discussion. She felt like a spectacle, a helpless baby who couldn't even control her bodily functions. The weight of her own helplessness settled heavily on her shoulders, a mix of shame and a strange sense of surrender. As her mother took her hand and led her towards the exit, she leaned closer to Kylie, her tone still pleasant but somewhat condescending. "Well, my little baby, it seems you've had quite the eventful day, let’s go home shall we” She stretched out her hand and Kylie took her mothers hand as she was lead out of the lobby in her little toddler attire. They reached Mrs. Thompson's car, and to Kylie's surprise, her mother opened the back door to reveal a large car seat waiting for her. Kylie furrowed her brows, questioning the need for it. Her mother simply smiled, sticking a pacifier into Kylie's mouth before answering. "Oh, sweetie, that's just one of the surprises in store for you today. You'll see. Now, be a good girl and hop into your car seat.” With a mix of embarrassment and apprehension, she climbed into the car seat, the soft padding enveloping her, the pacifier in her mouth a constant reminder of her altered role. The seat hugged her hips tightly, evidence of the fact that she was slightly too big for it and as the restraints came up from underneath her crotch she felt a wave of helplessness wash over her as she was strapped in. Her mother fastened the seatbelt securely, her voice dripped with gentle condescension. "There we go, my little baby, all snug and secure. Get ready, Kylie, because today is going to be full of surprises. Just remember, Mommy knows best." She closed the door with a soft click, leaving Kylie in the back seat, her mind buzzing with a mix of emotions and anticipation. As the car pulled away from the daycare center, Kylie couldn't help but surrender to the unknown. She was stepping deeper into a world she never imagined she would explore, guided by her mother's gentle yet teasing hand. With each passing moment, she found herself embracing the embarrassment, the excitement, and the journey that lay ahead. NEW ROOM: A mere ten minute drive and they were pulling into the driveway at home. Her embarrassment was furthered when she tried to undo her seatbelt only to realize that she couldn’t reach the release located on the side of the carseat, her mother coming around the side door seeing her struggle, “Oh no honey, this is for mommy to get you out, I don’t want you trying that again when you are in you carseat of highchair or anywhere I put you, you stay until l decide otherwise” she said in a stern condescending tone. As Kylie and her mother entered their house, Kylie couldn't help but notice the chaotic scene in the living room. Boxes were scattered around, and packing supplies were strewn across the floor. She furrowed her brow, curiosity mingled with a hint of trepidation. What was going on? Her mother turned to her with a mischievous grin, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "Kylie, my little baby girl, I have a surprise for you upstairs. Why don’t you run along now and go to your room.” Her voice dripped with playful condescension, fueling Kylie's mix of anticipation and embarrassment. Heart pounding with a mix of excitement and uncertainty, Kylie rushed up the stairs, her tiny footsteps echoing through the hallway. As she reached the door to her bedroom, she hesitated for a moment, wondering what awaited her on the other side. With a deep breath, she pushed the door open and stepped inside. Her eyes widened, taking in the complete transformation of her room. The walls were painted in pastel hues, adorned with colorful decals of playful animals and cartoon characters. A large crib stood against one wall, complete with soft bedding and a mobile hanging above. A changing table stood nearby, stocked with diapers, wipes, and powders. On the other side of the room, a cozy corner was set up with a small playpen filled with stuffed animals and toys. Kylie's heart raced as a mix of excitement and embarrassment flooded her senses. She had secretly desired a space that embraced her regression, a haven where she could embrace her babyish desires. But now, faced with the reality of a fully equipped nursery, she couldn't help but feel a pang of trepidation. It was one thing to indulge in occasional regression play, but to be confined to a space that screamed babyhood felt like a loss of control over her own life. Her mother entered the room, a smile playing on her lips as she observed Kylie's stunned expression. "Well, my little princess, do you like your new nursery?" Her voice held a mix of satisfaction and condescension, relishing in the power she held over Kylie's desires. Kylie's eyes darted around the room, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her. She appreciated the effort her mother had put into creating this space for her, but the reality of it was overwhelming. She approached her mother, her voice filled with a mix of gratitude and unease. "Thank you, Mom, but it's...it's a bit too extreme, don't you think? I mean, I like pretending to be a baby sometimes, but this...this feels like too much.” Her mother's smile didn't waver as she gently dismissed Kylie's concerns. "Oh, sweetie, don't worry. This is what you wanted, isn't it? I'm simply providing an environment that meets the needs of your actions. Since you show no signs of growing up anytime soon, I figured it made sense to set your room up so we can probably take care of you” Kylie bit her lip, her cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and frustration. She had yearned for a space that allowed her to explore her regression, but now that it was a reality, she couldn't help but question the implications. She was torn between her desire to indulge in her babyish fantasies and the fear of losing her autonomy. Kylie sighed, her conflicting emotions slowly settling within her. She couldn't deny the allure of the nursery, the way it catered to her hidden desires and offered an escape from the pressures of adulthood. It was a chance to let go of responsibilities and embrace the carefree innocence of infancy. Her mother playfully grabbed Kylie’s pacifier bringing it to her lips with a playful glint in her eyes. "Now, my darling baby, let's check that diaper of yours and get you ready for playtime.” Kylie took the pacifier hesitantly. She couldn't deny the excitement that simmered within her, the thrill of surrendering control and embracing her regression. As Kylie's mother checked her diaper, Kylie couldn't help but flinch at the abrupt and teasing way her mother handled the diaper check. "Already wet, my little baby?" Her mother cooed with a playful grin. "Looks like you're getting the hang of being a real baby girl.” Kylie blushed, feeling a mix of embarrassment and excitement as her mother pointed out her wet diaper. It was true; she had already wet herself without even realizing it. The feeling of helplessness and surrender to her body's needs only fueled her regression fantasies further. Her mother's eyes twinkled mischievously as she clapped her hands. “Looks like we get to put your new changing table to good use!" With that, she led Kylie over to the changing table, which was adorned with soft pastel-colored padding and adorned with cute baby animal decals. It was a clear sign that this nursery was designed for a baby, and the thought of being changed on it sent both shivers of excitement and a pang of humiliation down Kylie's spine. As her mother undressed her, Kylie couldn't help but take in the full scene of her nursery. The walls were decorated with whimsical patterns and pictures of adorable animals. Shelves were filled with baby toys, plushies, and colorful books. A large crib stood in one corner, waiting to cradle her during naptime. It was a nursery fit for an adult baby, and Kylie couldn't help but feel both drawn to and overwhelmed by the babyish atmosphere. Her mother's teasing voice brought her back to the present moment. "My little baby girl has such a cute nursery now, doesn't she?" Her fingers tickled Kylie's tummy, eliciting a giggle from her. "You're going to love all the little things I got for you.” As her mother expertly changed her diaper, Kylie squirmed a little at the now familiar feeling of being cleaned and powdered like a baby. Her mother's gentle yet condescending manner made her feel both cared for and vulnerable. She couldn't deny the thrill of being treated like a helpless little girl, even if it came with a dose of embarrassment. "There we go, all fresh and dry," her mother announced with a smile as she fastened the new diaper around Kylie's waist. Kylie couldn't help but notice the cute babyish designs on the diapers, each one adorned with adorable patterns and characters. It was another reminder of her new status as a baby girl. With the diaper secure, her mother brought out a stack of onesies and baby rompers she had bought for Kylie. "I got you some new clothes too, my little one. Let's see what we have here." She held up a pink onesie with a cute cartoon bear on it. "Isn't this adorable?” Kylie nodded with a blush, feeling a mix of excitement and self-consciousness at the thought of wearing such babyish outfits. Her mother continued to show her different onesies, each one more babyish and adorable than the last. After trying on a few different outfits, her mother finally settled on a cute sundress with frills and ribbons. "This one is perfect for my little princess," her mother said, beaming with pride. Once Kylie was dressed in her new outfit, her mother led her over to the cozy corner of the room, where the playpen and toys were. "Here's your special play area, sweetie," her mother said. "You can play nicely here while mommy takes care of some things.” Kylie's eyes scanned the toys in the playpen, but disappointment washed over her as she noticed they were all baby toys – rattles, soft blocks, and plushies. Where were her video games, her books, her iPad? She looked up at her mother with a pout. "Can I have my iPad, please?” Her mother's response was firm. "Oh, sweetie, the iPad is not for babies. You have plenty of baby toys to play with here. Be a good girl and enjoy your playtime.” With a sigh, Kylie resigned herself to her fate, sitting in the playpen and reaching for a soft rattle. Her mother watched her for a moment, a mix of amusement and affection in her eyes. "You look so cute playing with your baby toys, my little one. Don't worry; you'll get used to it in no time.” And with that, her mother left her to play in her nursery, surrounded by babyish things that she was both embarrassed and excited to indulge in. As Kylie explored her new surroundings, a mix of emotions swirled within her. She couldn't deny the thrill of being treated like a baby, but at the same time, she felt a twinge of embarrassment at the loss of her independence and the surrender of her adult identity. Yet, there was a part of her that relished in the carefree innocence of infancy, the freedom to be vulnerable and unburdened by the complexities of adulthood. AN UNEXPECTED VISIT In the cozy corner of her nursery, Kylie allowed herself to embrace her regression fully, losing herself in the world of baby toys and plushies, content to be the little girl she had secretly longed to be. As Kylie sat in her playpen, engrossed in her coloring book, she tried to lose herself in the simple joy of the activity. The crayons felt comforting in her hand, and the act of coloring brought a sense of normalcy amidst the babyish surroundings. She was starting to feel a bit more at ease, forgetting the embarrassing reality of her regression fantasies. Suddenly, she heard her mother's voice downstairs, greeting someone at the front door. Her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the voice of her Aunt Mary and her cousin Daniele. Panic washed over her as she realized that they were about to see her in this humiliating and vulnerable state. Her mother appeared at the nursery door, accompanied by Aunt Mary and Daniele. "Look who's here to visit, Kylie!" her mother said with a playful smile, clearly enjoying the situation. Aunt Mary gasped as she looked at Kylie in the playpen. "Oh my goodness, she looks absolutely adorable! What a cute little baby you have here!" She approached the playpen, cooing at Kylie and running her fingers through Kylie's hair. Kylie blushed deeply, feeling her cheeks burn with embarrassment. "Um, hi Aunt Mary," she mumbled, not quite sure how to handle the situation. Daniele, on the other hand, didn't hold back. "Wow, look at you, Kylie! You're like a real-life baby doll! This is so weird, what the heck in the work is this” she teased, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Kylie's humiliation only intensified as her cousin made fun of her. She wanted to protest, to tell them that this was just a game, but she found herself at a loss for words. Her mother had warned her that she would have to play the part of a baby girl, and now she was trapped in this humiliating role with her family witnessing it all. Her mother chuckled. "Kylie wanted to experience what it's like to be a baby, so we decided to have a little fun with it. Isn't she just precious?” Aunt Mary nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, she absolutely is!" she repeated, not realizing the deep impact her words had on Kylie's sense of dignity. Her mother turned to Daniele. "Daniele, why don't you keep Kylie company and play with her in the nursery? We need to prepare dinner, and it'll give you two a chance to catch up.” Daniele sighed dramatically, but she complied. “Fine… I mean you all should probably be paying me for babysitting, but I guess I’ll play with my “little” cousin so she doesn’t get into trouble or get sad” She rolled her eyes at Kylie, making it clear that she found the whole situation absurd. With her mother and aunt out of the room, Kylie was left alone with her cousin, feeling like a helpless baby being mocked by a teenager. Daniele sauntered over to the playpen, looking down at Kylie with a smirk. "Well, well, well, look at the baby of the family," she taunted. "Aren't you just adorable in your little playpen?” Kylie tried to maintain some semblance of dignity. "It's not what you think," she protested weakly. "I just wanted to try it out for fun.” Daniele chuckled. "Sure, sure, whatever you say. But you can't deny that you look hilarious like this." She reached into the playpen and grabbed one of the stuffed animals, holding it up to Kylie's face. "Look, it's your new baby friend!” Kylie's face flushed with embarrassment as she played along, pretending to interact with the stuffed animal like a real baby. Daniele laughed, clearly amused by her cousin's predicament. "Oh, this is too good," Daniele said, teasingly patting Kylie's diapered bottom. "Looks like someone's got quite the full diaper too!” Kylie squirmed, mortified by her cousin's teasing. "Stop it, Daniele! It's not funny!" Daniele raised an eyebrow. "Oh, it's definitely funny. You wanted to be treated like a baby, and now you're getting your wish. Enjoy!” As the afternoon wore on, Daniele made sure to keep Kylie engaged in the most infantile activities possible. She pulled out baby toys and rattles, encouraging Kylie to play with them and cooing at her in baby talk. The more Kylie resisted, the more her cousin seemed to enjoy teasing her. "Aw, does the little baby want her pacifier?" Daniele mocked, dangling a pacifier in front of Kylie's face. "Here, have your binky, baby girl!” Kylie's cheeks burned with humiliation as she reluctantly accepted the pacifier, knowing that it was all part of the game her mother had set up. She tried to remind herself that it was just temporary, but the reality of being treated like a helpless baby by her own cousin was overwhelming. When her mother and Aunt Mary returned to the room, Kylie was more than relieved. She quickly discarded the pacifier, not wanting to give Daniele any more ammunition for teasing. "Did you two have fun playing together?" her mother asked, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Oh, tons of fun," Daniele replied with a smirk. "Kylie makes quite the convincing baby.” Kylie's mother chuckled. "I'm sure she does. Well, dinner is ready, so let's all head downstairs." As they made their way to the dining room, Kylie couldn't help but feel a mix of embarrassment and resentment. She had willingly indulged in her regression fantasies, but now that her family was in on the act, it felt like a whole new level of humiliation. As she sat down at the table, surrounded by her amused family, she couldn't help but wonder how much longer this babyish charade would last and what other surprises her mother had in store for her. DINNER TIME After the awkward playtime with her cousin in the nursery, Kylie was directed to her embarrassing high chair for dinner. She couldn't help but feel like a helpless baby being strapped into the contraption. Daniele was quick to mock her, making exaggerated baby noises and pretending to spoon-feed her. "Here comes the airplane! Open wide, baby Kylie!" Daniele teased, making airplane sounds as she pretended to feed Kylie. Kylie's face turned crimson with embarrassment, but she had no choice but to play along. Her mother placed a bib around her neck, complete with a babyish design, and handed her a bottle to keep her busy. "Here, sweetie, have your bottle while we get everything situated," her mother said, placing the bottle's nipple in Kylie's mouth. Kylie obediently sucked on the bottle, trying to focus on anything but the fact that she was sitting in a high chair and being treated like a baby. She glanced over at her cousin, who was smirking as she enjoyed her regular meal at the table. Throughout dinner, Kylie was given a small cut-up meal that she had to eat with her hands, making her feel even more like a helpless baby. She struggled to eat gracefully, feeling self-conscious as her cousin observed her every move. "Careful, don't make a mess," Daniele taunted, watching Kylie fumble with her food. To make matters worse, her mother decided to feed her baby food for dessert. Kylie protested, but her mother insisted, playfully pretending to be an airplane as she spoon-fed Kylie. "Yum, yum! Open wide, baby birdie!" her mother cooed. Kylie cringed, feeling like a complete and utter baby as she was fed spoonfuls of pureed baby food. As the meal went on, Kylie became increasingly fussy and messy. Her mother chuckled, finding her baby's antics amusing. "Looks like someone's getting all messy," she teased. Kylie's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she tried to eat and play the part of a baby. She felt like a fool, sitting there in her high chair with baby food smeared all over her face and fingers. After dinner, her mother offered Kylie another warm bottle of milk, but Kylie declined. "I don't want any more," she protested. "Aw, come on, baby Kylie. Just a little more milk for you," her mother cooed, trying to coax her into drinking from the bottle. Kylie reluctantly accepted the bottle, feeling like a baby being pacified. She sucked on the bottle, trying to ignore the fact that her aunt and cousin were enjoying warm chocolate cake while she was stuck with a baby's bottle. As she drank her milk, Kylie felt a rumble in her tummy. "Mom, can I be let out of this high chair? I need to use the bathroom," she said, hoping to escape the humiliating situation. Her mother glanced at her with a playful smile. "Just be patient, sweetie. We'll finish up here soon," she said. Kylie tried to wait patiently, but the pressure in her tummy became unbearable. She squirmed in her high chair, feeling like she was about to have an accident. "Mom, I really need to go!" she pleaded. "Just a few more minutes, baby. Everyone else needs to finish their meal," her mother replied. But Kylie couldn't hold it any longer. The pressure in her tummy finally gave way, and she felt herself mess her diaper right there in the high chair. Her face flushed with humiliation as the smell filled the air. "Uh, what's that smell?" Daniele wrinkled her nose in disgust. Kylie's eyes filled with tears as she felt the embarrassment wash over her. "I-I had an accident," she admitted, her voice quivering. Her mother chuckled, finding the whole situation amusing. "Looks like someone made a stinky in her diaper," she teased. Just then, her father walked into the dining room, having just arrived home from work. "Hey, everyone, I'm home!" he announced. Aunt Mary turned to him with a smile. "Oh, you're just in time to witness a little tantrum from our baby Kylie," she said, gesturing toward Kylie in the high chair. Kylie's father raised an eyebrow, looking at his daughter with amusement. "Oh, really? What's the baby fussing about now?" he asked. "She just had a little accident in her diaper," her mother explained, still grinning at the situation. Kylie's tears continued to flow as she sat in the high chair, feeling utterly humiliated in front of her family. She felt like a real baby, unable to control her bodily functions and being treated like a helpless child. "Aw, baby, don't cry," her father cooed, approaching the high chair and offering her a comforting hand. "Let's get you all cleaned up.” Her mother unstrapped Kylie from the high chair, and her father lifted her into his arms. He gave her a gentle pat on her diapered bottom, soothing her as he carried her up to her nursery. Once in the nursery, Kylie's father placed her on the changing table and began to clean her up. Her Aunt Mary followed them into the room, shaking her head at the sight. "Looks like our little baby needs a bath after that messy diaper," Aunt Mary said, taking charge of the situation. Kylie's father chuckled. "You're right. I'll take care of the diaper, and you can handle the bath," he said, passing the baton to his sister. Kylie sniffled, feeling completely exposed and vulnerable as she was cleaned up by her aunt. Aunt Mary was surprisingly gentle and understanding, even though she had been teasing Kylie earlier. "There, there, sweetie. It's okay. We all have accidents sometimes," Aunt Mary said, trying to comfort Kylie. Once her diaper was changed and her tummy was cleaned up, Aunt Mary helped Kylie into the bathtub. The warm water was soothing, and Kylie felt a sense of relief as she relaxed in the tub. Her aunt gently washed her hair and body, treating her with the care of a baby. "You know, you really do look adorable as a little baby," Aunt Mary said with a smile. Kylie blushed but appreciated the kindness behind her aunt's words. "Thanks, Aunt Mary," she mumbled, feeling a bit more at ease. After the bath, Aunt Mary helped Kylie put on a fresh diaper and a cute pair of baby pajamas. "There, now you're all clean and cozy," she said, giving Kylie a pat on her diapered bottom. Kylie's father returned to the nursery, looking pleased to see his daughter all cleaned up. "Feeling better, baby girl?" he asked. Kylie nodded, grateful for her father's understanding and support. "Yeah, thanks, Dad," she replied. Her father scooped her up into his arms, holding her close. "Well, it's time for bed now, little one. It's been a big day for our baby girl, and tomorrow Daddy has a big surprise for you" he said with a smile. Kylie looks up at him "what is it daddy?" she says "Oh sweetie it wouldn't be much of a surprise if I told you right now, plus if I did I don't think you'd be able to sleep" he said with a loving and somewhat condescending tone. Kylie yawned, feeling exhausted from the emotional rollercoaster of the day. She snuggled into her father's chest, feeling safe and loved despite the embarrassing situations she had endured. As her father carried her to her crib, Aunt Mary and her mother followed, saying their goodnights. "Sleep tight, sweetie," Aunt Mary said, giving Kylie a gentle kiss on the forehead. Her mother leaned over the crib and clipped a pacifier to Kylie's collar. "Sweet dreams, baby Kylie," she said with a smile. Kylie closed her eyes, feeling a mix of embarrassment and comfort as she settled into her crib. She couldn't deny that the day had been full of humiliating moments, but she also couldn't deny that there was a strange sense of fulfillment in exploring her babyish desires. As she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't help but wonder what other surprises her mother had in store for her and how long this babyish adventure would last. One thing was for sure - her life was definitely going to be a lot more interesting from now on.

Page 22 “I don’t… I don’t see how,” Dakota stammered. “Well its going to be harder and harder to keep it hidden, people that don’t know you will probably assume you’re transgender, but you could get a buzz cut.” “I’m not getting a buzz cut,” Dakota said then he felt it, a sharp pain in his groin. His face contorted with surprise and just stood up so quickly the chair fell over. “Dakota whats wrong,” Alex yelled as the boy made a mad dash towards the bathroom and slammed the door. After a few minutes Alex went to the closed bathroom door, she could hear crying. “Whats wrong Dakota open the door?” “Do you have a hair dryer?” She heard Dakota meekly say. “I don’t know, somewhere in there?” Alex answered. “Where is it?” Dakota asked, but Alex had already had enough of being locked out of her own bathroom. She went to her utility drawer and got a tiny little screwdriver and unlocked the door. She saw Dakota sitting on the bathroom floor, trying to use his hoodie to dry his soaking wet jeans. “Why did you come in here?” “Because this is my bathroom and I was worried about you.” “Well as you can plainly see I’ve peed my pants,” Dakota said trying not to cry. “Yeah, honey, let me get you some clothes to wear, Alex said. “No, I’m sorry, I’ll just put a towel in my seat and go home,” Dakota said. Alex knew that Dakota’s idea was the smart and normal thing to do, but she wasn’t feeling normal, and this seemed like the perfect opportunity. “That’s silly, just take those wet pants off, I’ll be right back.” “Alex wait,” Dakota yelled but she darted out of the bathroom. A few minutes later she was back. “OK, so I don’t really have anything that will fit but Dawn left some clothes here and I think you’re about the same size.” Alex said as she sat a couple folded items on the vanity. “You seriously want me to wear your sister’s clothes?” Dakota asked. “What do you think you’re going to do? You won’t go to the doctor, and you say you asked for this. If you can’t simply wear girls' clothes then you better go figure out why the hell you’re starting to look more like a girl than a boy.”

Page 15 Alex blew past Dakota into his apartment like a hurricane, her large work bag slapping the door frame and her smaller cross body purse jangling. She was still in her scrubs, and seemed a bit flustered. She tossed her bags on a chair and ran her hand through her short red hair. “I want you to be very honest, can you do that?” “Sure, what the hell is going on?” Dakota asked. “Are you taking hormones?” “Not this shit again, I just went through this with Amy yesterday.” “So you’re not on HRT?” “No, of course not.” “Are you taking some kind of pill, a drug, something?” “What are you talking about?” Dakota asked. Alex pulled a folded piece of paper from her pocket and handed it to Dakota. “These are your test results, if you wanted to compete in sports as a woman you would qualify.” Dakota looked at the printout, it was covered with acronyms and numbers, little charts, none of it made any sense to him. “What the fuck does that mean?” “It means that hormonally you’re female, Estradiol, LH, FSH, Testosterone are all at perfect levels for a young woman.” “That's impossible, you messed up the test.” Alex dug a second sheet of paper out of her pocket, “That’s why I ran it again, and I can promise you that I didn’t mix up your blood either. Are you sure there isn’t anything you want to tell me, maybe you were born intersex?” Dakota fell onto his couch and felt his lips quiver, “I’ve ruined everything,” he said and tried to keep from crying, but he couldn't’ hold back the tears. “You said you didn’t take anything?” “I didn’t, but I asked for this, I had a dream,” Dakota said. Alex sat down next to Dakota and hugged him tight, “just calm down, it’s going to be alright, tell me what happened.” It took Dakota a few minutes to settle down but he gave Alex a version of the dream. He couldn’t tell her about diapers, and didn’t elaborate on the type of party dress he Page 16 was wearing, but otherwise he explained the Tourist and the help it gave him with some genetic manipulation. Alex sat there for what felt like an eternity before finally answering, “You can’t tell anyone else, do you understand.” “You don’t believe me?” “It doesn’t matter what I believe, but if you tell Amy, your parents, and your doctor that an interdimensional ball of light turned you into a girl you’re going to be committed.” “What do I do then?” Alex took a long look at Dakota and stood up pacing in front of the couch.. “I guess you have two choices, you go to a doctor and just tell them this happened to you, get a thousand tests, and find out what's going on with your body, or you transition to female.” “I don’t have insurance, I don’t even have a doctor,” Dakota said. “That probably won’t matter, if they find out that your body is somehow producing…” Alex paused then she reached down and grabbed Dakota’s crotch through his shorts. “What the fuck!” “Sorry but I had to check, anyway, I think they’ll want to run alot more tests, see if the hormones are being naturally produced, if they are and your body is somehow going through some spontaneous gender change, well that would be medically impossible. They’d want to study you, figure it out you know.” “I do not want to be some freak, some lab rat, no way. I’m not going to do anything,” Dakota said. “Yeah I guess you could just try to hide it, but you said you asked for this, so why would you do that?” “I didn’t ask for this,” Dakota said and pointed to his chest. “In the dream the Tourist just said it was going to make it so I could wear the clothes I wanted to wear.” “That’s going to be the end result I imagine, look I told you I wasn’t transgender, that was bullshit. I think I am. I know I don’t want to be a woman, or at least I don’t feel like a woman, I think. I’m just saying I understand you, I know what its like to have dysphoria.” “I’m not transgender and I don’t have dysphoria,” Dakota swore.