Leaderboard

The experimental school. We had all been called to a large assembly, not too uncommon since it was the 3rd day of school. Then again what was common in this school? Walking along in the crowded hall, I longed for my days before this school. So simple, hang out with friends, go bowling or to a movie, or just hang out at the park. Things were so much simpler then. And then I signed that stupid contract. I didn't have the money for a good college, I had the grades to get in but not good enough to get a ride on. I never really played sports, what I did have was a head for creativity and original things. That's what they had said got me not only accepted but desired here. Nothing about it added up. Why would you expect more out of middle level students? I'd get my degree but I had to stay at the school until graduating. Oh I got some time off campus but not much. Isolation was key, they said. No outside interference. They even restricted the TV and social media coming in. They had made their own social media platform as well. But now, I have almost graduated from this hell hole, everything I think about it my heart jumps. I was so close, one more year. I could see them trying to control me past graduation though. This place didn't let go of people. Some people had tried to quit or drop out. Each time they tried to leave without permission, they'd just turn up again on campus. Same excuse every time too. "I changed my mind, so I came back." I had asked a friend once, he gave me the same answer but when I asked why he said he wasn't sure why he changed his mind. This school was going to try and reach into my life beyond the gate. I could feel it. Whatever, it wasn't in my contract, I'd figure it out once I was free, that contract only went as far as the gates. I entered the large auditorium which doubled as a theater. It had about 500 seats in it and a stage. Long black curtains that sat at the back of the stage. On a projector screen was a welcome message that cheerily read "A time to change, and a time to be changed!" The picture in the background had students smiling and laughing. Only girls would have had the nerve to use that dumb of a slogan for the year. I knew better than to voice that opinion out loud. A girl might hear and that would definitely invoke her privileges. Probably means something about bettering yourself and others and the school or some such nonsense. Completely stupid. Last year was "Better school, better you, better world." It wasn't getting better… On the stage sat the student council, the ruling body of the school. They enacted all policies, procedures, disciplinary rules and punishments for those enrolled. Get bad grades? Then you ended up cleaning the floors. Get in a fight? Well, let's just say that wasn't happening anymore. The list of rules and consequences was quite extensive, it wasn't something one could memorize. The list was probably so long that it couldn't be memorized on purpose. If you couldn't memorize it, they could get away with whatever they decided was inappropriate. I wasn't much of a stand out, mischief maker so I rarely got into trouble. Though it had happened. I found a seat near a large group of other guys, I wasn't really in the mood to mingle and this school put a huge damper on dating, it was not a rule mind you, just not what most guys wanted to deal with. In the end, the mood for romance was kind of dead when you were not able to really have much of a say in any relationship. At least when the other side had won. Oddly enough when his side had won, I had found a girlfriend relatively easily. I tried a couple times but it just never worked out. Supposedly your "personal life" was exempt from the rules but how did that work when you were a society separated from the world and it was governed by a certain group. We lived and breathed in this school, there was no escaping it while you were in the walls that surrounded the campus. It was filling up in the auditorium and the school student secretary stepped up to the mic. "Hello, everyone!" She started cheerfully. "I know we are all anxious to start so let's hurry and find our seats. We need to start on time or we will be late for the rest of the day." She was in charge of time keeping and she was very passionate about it. She was the quintessential nerdy girl, goggle glasses and all. There were only about 300 people in this school. Its numbers kept small by the sheer fact every student had been hand picked to come here. You had to have the right personality, be willing to take a leap of faith, be creative, the list went on and on. It was more about personality than anything else, or so it seemed. Some of the students here were among the lowest scoring students in their respective high schools. I had a few friends that shouldn't have been able to get into college let alone anything prestigious. Hopefully this will be short and sweet, I thought, we can just get it over with. Boring speeches were not my thing. I waited impatiently fiddling with a pencil, we had not been allowed to bring anything with us including phones. They always cited "we should pay attention instead of playing with a phone." Like we were some kind of kindergarteners. Weren't we supposed to be self governing? That one only went as far as they wanted it to. About 5 minutes later the vice president got up and called the meeting to order. "Welcome to a new year at the Complete School of Forward Thinking." A cheer went up among the students, mostly from the girls. "I am Sarah Glockins, I will be your vice president again this year." Another pause and another shriek from the girls. She was not as bad as the others but she was still on the wrong side of the fence. "On behalf of your returning body of student leadership I'd like to welcome our new students AND our returning students to our great halls again for another year of learning and growing. Well, maybe just learning for some of us." She giggled and I caught the cryptic sense she had something up her sleeve. This wasn't good. Not in this school, surprises tended to leave you in a bad place. It never ended well, especially when the girls were in charge. I had learned the hard way that anything cryptic like that meant trouble for me. I was truly done with this school, if I wasn't so close I'd have found a way out of here. This year was going to be hell, I knew it too. Truth was, things had been getting progressively more intense over the last 2 years that the vote had gone to the girls. I was two seats from the aisle, only a little bit from the door. Girls were standing guard there. They wore something on their hip, it seemed too small to be a weapon or a stun gun. The fire escape seemed to be unguarded, but it'd probably be locked until an actual fire alarm. State of the art alarm systems would stay locked now until the alarm went off. Everything in this damnable school was state of the art too. Everything was brand new all the time. They really did have a limitless budget around here. I guess if you were doing an experiment you had to do it the best way possible. Plus, if the scope of the experiment was true we were designing a new form of government to implement in the real world, then "no expense spared" was a good slogan. Sarah rambled on about the new year and the slogan, the guy sitting next to me leaned in, "I can't believe they won again, after last year you'd have thought it was a shoe in for them to lose." I nodded. They had incorporated a few punishments that went above and beyond the normal and no one had stopped them. It seemed like the approval rating would have dropped after that. The voting system was complex and required everyone to put in a visible and tangible token. This made cheating literally impossible. It had been a landslide win again. The count wasn't even needed. The girls' tokens had filled the tube while the guys remained half empty. Of Course you never had any idea who voted for what. You were alone when you voted. Granted that had been the terms of the experiment. The students were self governing for the most part. The teachers stayed out of it and allowed those on the winning side to lead as they saw fit. The only real rules were no permanent harm or ejection from the school were allowed. In short, You had to solve issues and not just shove them aside or destroy the problem. My thoughts returned to my escape route. Best option would be to go through the stage, likely the way they wouldn't think anyone would go. Why put guards up there? Everyone would see where you were going. Applause erupted around the room as Sarah finished her monotonous deluge of annoying words. She was not one I cared to be around or listen to talk. The woman had a bad tendency to squawk when she laughed, worse she was an incessant gossip. Apparently she had introduced the lone male on the stage. He was just there to represent the losing party. "Welcome everyone, I'm Blake Townsend," he paused. "Sorry gents, we lost." Holding his hands out in mock surrender. A couple girls whistled and cheered. "But we will make do and make sure we get the better of it next year. Anyway, I'll keep it short. Keep your heads up and make the best of it. I promise it'll get better this year!" Some cheers went up from the boys, they were half hearted but still some guys were still hopeful. "We can still make it a good year. If you feel like there's any unfair treatment just let me know. I'll make sure our voices are still heard." His speech was determined. "With that I give you the devil herself, student body president, Julie Buttkiss. Oops I mean Butterkiss" He was going to pay for that. From across the stage Julie stood up. Her eyes looked amused but in a dangerous way. Her look said it all, she would return the favor and she already knew how. She was the devil though, a picture perfect one, if anyone was honest. She belonged on magazine covers. It was Likely that that was how she got the position in the first place. Too many males with hard ons that would never get anything more than Blake was getting right now. She had enacted all the policies last year that had made life a living hell for anyone who was male. "Thanks Blake, and I'm sure you didn't mean it. After all, we girls have made this experiment incredibly successful." She started, her smooth voice captured everyone's ears. It almost was transe-like. "This school was founded to change the way society works. This experiment was made so that we could develop a new form of government and social structure. Why? The old way is failing, and we have young minds that are not conformed to old ideas, we can generate a new life that is fresh and will reinvigorate our world. In the beginning we were set up clean without entanglements. Given an opportunity to change ourselves, and then change others." There it was, that stupid logo that was on the screen, I zoned out as she launched into the history of this demon infested place. If you'd been here for 3 days you'd have heard this speech 3 times. We were called because we were intelligent, could add to a constructive society, we were the creative ones that could redesign the world. And now that you've signed on the dotted line you belong to us for 4 years. I tuned back into our regularly scheduled broadcast as she went back to recapping the last few years. "In the past 2 years we have raised the average grade to almost 90%. A full ten point increase. We have seen a 60% drop in disciplinary needs." She paused as cheers went up, again mostly girls. "When this school was founded, the idea was to find out who was best at running society, who would produce the best results, and even more so, who society wanted to run society. The first 2 years it was the boys. Boys," her voice dropped to an almost conspiratorial tone, "you failed us all. In those 2 years it was chaos, and not a good learning environment. Drugs, sex, you name it, it was in our halls." I had only come here three years ago, it had been a bit rougher then, even I could admit that, but things had gone the exact opposite direction once the girls took over. "With each year that we ladies have been in charge this school has improved a hundred fold." I wondered how she was measuring that. "Since this school's founding, we have risen up from the ashes quite a bit. Last year was phenomenal, our policies brought the remaining outliers back under control. For that exact reason the polices: Feminine Judgment, Retaliation Restriction, and Corporal Punishment will remain." My jaw dropped, how could the admins not stop this? Feminine Judgment meant a girl could decide a boy or girl was misbehaving. While worded carefully to avoid sex1sm, it was definitely in favor of the girls. The result was always a disciplinary panel. They decided your fate. They were always female. Retaliation Restriction, if you were called out for negatively responding to anything educational or disciplinary you were in for it. The panel was skipped and you were basically hung where you stood. Corporal Punishment spoke for itself. It was the default now. Almost everything ended up with you bent over getting your backside tanned. It had only happened to me once but I was one of the more crafty boys. Julie continued her evidence from the damned, "70% of boys received 2 spankings last year. That's a lot for you math challenged folks." She joked, not many laughed. " 96% received one. While only 10% of the girls received one, you know who you are and we ladies expect better from you this year. In the end the measures have brought this school to being the highest functioning school in all but 2 measured metrics nationwide. Isn't that wonderful?"She never paused for a cheer or acknowledgement. "And so we will be continuing our march to bring this school to the top!" She almost shouted the last words. The top of what? The heap of annoying me? I doubted it could get much worse. The girls went wild. "Ladies calm down now. We have a new policy to enact this year. It'll be the final thing we need to push us over the top on every scale that is measured in this nation. The numbers have shown that our male counterparts are not to be trusted, that they routinely step out of line, have lower test scores and final scores than us ladies. That is to say until they've been put on a better path. Today we announce the Better Boys Behavior Beneficiance.This will allow you Ladies to properly care for and love our boys. They need a good Maternal and nurturing influence to truly thrive. Her tone was serious now, my heart was racing, and I could see a few other male faces echoing my thoughts. "Upon entering, ladies, you were given a bag and told to leave it sealed until the time came. It's not that time yet. However, we need to discuss the contents inside. First you will find a card stock paper that says "your rules" on it. You will need to read it carefully at the end of the commencement. The next is 5 sheets of regular paper, on it says "their rules." My heart was in full fight or flight now. The adrenaline in my system said "GO NOW!" but if I moved I knew nothing good would come of it yet. "These will need to be given to each of your targets today. Now I want you to know, you will not likely have 5 targets. This is just in case." TARGETS!!?! What were they going to throw at us? Bad, bad, bad! "There is a bottle you will need, please use it today. I'm begging you. Not doing so could leave you in violation of your rules and lead to corporal punishment or worse." This was getting crazy, if the girls would be held accountable like this then it had to be massive. I was already gathering myself to run. I wasn't really sure where. The contract guaranteed a free college ride but it also guaranteed you stayed put until you graduated. Once the year started you never left campus. Some families had a home here and lived with students but mostly the students stayed in dorms. The really hard part was the 15 foot wall that ran around the campus. We were told it was security but the barbs on the top were aimed to keep people in not out. Not that anyone tried to get in. "There are some other things in there including a paddle, if you need it today, and a couple other supplies for routine maintenance. The last thing in there is very important. It is the reason we all came together. It's also what you will need most today. Ladies when I say this I want you all to remain calm. Show your maturity. You see, the goal is to give boys a good example to grow into. You need to be that example, this is also not retribution but a lesson. They need to be controlled for both our good and theirs. I know you're excited ladies, but contain yourselves. If you open that bag too early it will ruin the surprise. Boys, I'm begging you, make it easy on us ladies. Please do not fight this. I promise rewards to those that are good boys. BIG rewards." That was not setting me at ease. Some other guys had already given in, just dreading it all, you could see the defeat in their eyes. Heads buried in hands. It didn't take long to be ground down if you didn't go with the flow but they had decided it was better to not be dust. Some girlfriends trying to console boyfriends, the smiles on their faces were not helping. "Those that try to resist will be punished severely." Of course they would, so far that was the only part I believed. "Now ladies, the last item in your bag is five… big… fluffy…white…crinkly… DIAPERS!" Her voice was so excited, she seemed like she was about to jump the podium. Her face was the image of a psychiatric ward patient who had been given the freedom they had wanted since being confined years ago. Everyone in the room went silent except one, his expletive echoed across the room. "What the f@*$?" He wasn't getting the "rewards" for sure. My mind latched on to that last word. She couldn't be implying the girls would be putting boys in diapers. There was no way they were that crazy. No one would allow that. As if she was reading his mind "I know ladies you are confused. I assure you this is for the best. You will be diapering the boys today. The boys have proven to be a large part of the problems here and are in need of a bit of feminine touch. Remember to treat them as well as they are behaved, they are not meat, but they are to be wrapped up today, be as loving but firm as a mother would be. Now in good faith, I will be taking care of our good boy Blake here who chose some inappropriate things to say to me. So," Reaching beneath the podium she pulled out a large rectangular white thing. I immediately assumed it was one of these diapers, "ladies, shall we begin the great diapering? You may open your bags now!" Without another word she whirled on Blake whose face had gone sheet white. I could only hear zippers from bags being opened as he protested from his seat. She went straight to work on his belt and zipper. He gave an attempt at stopping her but he wasn't fighting or running as much as he should have been. Maybe he knew something I didn't, but I wasn't going to find out. I snapped out of the horror show and looked around, girls were reading their cards, most of the guys were in a state of despair, they had just given up and were going to allow whatever happened to them happen. Being grabbed by a girl they just followed orders. A bunch were fighting back, the group around me was backed together trying to stop the feminine onslaught, the girls outnumbered the boys by a good bit and the group was being grabbed one by one and overpowered. One fool just dropped his pants and laid down grinning. Not sure what was with him. No one had even come for him yet. Some cried in defeat. Being in the center of the group of guys I wasn't in any immediate threat. I watched as girls laid boyfriends down and padded rears, each taking time to use powder, some began to administer punishments to ensure obedience, it only took a few swings to start eliciting yelps from some. The process was insane. Even outnumbered, it was taking time to work through them all. It gave me a minute to think. I needed to start my escape plan, I began to work towards a weak spot in the line trying to dissect the group around me. "John Belinger!" My name echoed from the mic. "I see you, do not move! You belong to me." That psycho, Tammy Garland. Unfortunately, she was also the treasurer. She likely had already known about this and had planned to make him hers. She'd had a crush on me for a year. My only spanking had come from her, unjustly I might add. She was intent on ruining my life. I thought I'd shaken her off last year by hitting her with a giant water balloon filled with a rancid smelling liquid we had found near a dumpster. Tammy had never given up, asking me out multiple times, I wasn't even being polite about turning her down anymore. Knowing her, She probably had a diaper labeled with my name from the very start. Seriously, the dumb girl labeled everything. I scanned around the door, the guards were still there. They had a device in hand that looked like it was designed for a medical purpose instead of anything else. I hadn't seen it used on anyone so I wasn't completely sure what it was yet. All around me boys were being diapered. Some whose pants were already at their ankles, some protesting and promising, even begging. It saved none of them. A couple girls had already diapered males sitting next to them smiling with joy. Feeling it up and down as they were inspected. Why were they so happy about this? There only seemed to be a few girls who thought this was not a good idea. They sat off to the side judging and pointing, one stifled a laugh as she watched a boy getting a beating. I could even see a woman teacher closing in on a male teacher. She was smiling from ear to ear and beckoning him with one finger and a diaper in hand. When she reached him she didn't hesitate, his pants dropped to the floor as she stripped him. She hooked his leg as he tried to back away, tripping him to the floor. His legs went up and she placed the diaper under him. I could hear a bit of his protests. "I'm a teacher not a student, we are not a part of this experiment." She, oblivious to his objections, went to work. He was powdered thoroughly and properly covered. I watched long enough to see it pulled between his legs. That psycho was probably getting close, the stage was empty aside from Blake and Julie who had finished her work and was inspecting Blake's rather puffy butt. The line of girls around me had thinned to the point where there were gaps. They had snagged enough males I could get to the edge easily. It was that moment I decided I was not going to join Blake. I'd find a new university, who cared. There was no amount of debt I was not willing to go through to get out of this. I bolted to the side of the room breaking through the girls there, and ran toward the stage. Up the stairs and toward the curtains at the back. "JOHN!" The president's voice interrupted my run. "You won't get out. We are in lock down, now be a good boy like Blake here. Tammy is going to take care of you, I promise." Her smooth voice dulled my desire to run for just a moment. She sounded sincere, calm and genuine. Blake took that moment to warn me, "John, get out, she said they will never let us out of these things, GO!" I heard him yelp as Julie leveled a slap to his thighs. "You be quiet." That was all I needed. I took off out the back. I managed to use a door in the back that led to a dressing room. Another guy was on his back here, he seemed to be enjoying the moment, at least from the state of his arousal he was. The girl simply looked me up and down "looks like you won't be getting the rewards promised." I didn't care what that meant. In the hall, I was greeted with 2 girls yelling at me to "wait where I was," yeah right. They held the same devices I'd seen on other guards. I ran on never slowing down until I was sure I was out of sight. I began checking exterior doors, one after another, all locked. I began to despair at the idea I'd get out of the school itself. I'd deal with the fence once I was free of the building. Every door and window was sealed magnetically. I would need to find a window I could break. Most of them had webbing in them that stopped being broken easily. The second floor would probably have the opportunity I needed, no one was concerned about someone breaking in up there. Maybe a fire escape, I could trigger the alarm and get out. As I ran I saw a small outlet with the a fire alarm pull. I half slid half fell and scrambled back down the hall. This had to work. I broke the glass cover and yanked on the alarm…. Nothing. Maybe it was a silent alarm. I shouldn't have been surprised, but the door wouldn't budge. I didn't wait too long to mourn the failure. I shot off like a rocket again. "There!!" A voice rang out behind me. It was male! What the hell? I was already around the corner but my surprise almost tripped me up. I recovered and flew into a stairwell. My lungs were burning as I wound my way up a flight of stairs. Into the hallway, I needed a place to hide. I had to catch my breath and get enough time to form a plan. If they'd just give me 10 seconds…. As I went down the hall I opened all the doors around corners and into new halls. I doubled back about a third of the way down a hall and went into the second to the last door I'd opened, checking to make sure they were not in sight. Hopefully that would throw them off my scent. I ducked into the dark lecture hall, there were chairs and desks in a normal row pattern. I hid myself among them. Hopefully, if they did come in they would still miss me. "He came down this hall, someone stay here, if he makes a break for it we will know. Everyone else, let's start searching classrooms." My heart froze. I could hear the click of women's heels on the hard floor in the hall. They were getting closer and closer. *click* *click* They stopped seemingly at the door. "I'll check the next one." I didn't recognize the voice. "OK, I'll check this one then." A new voice announced, I hadn't heard footsteps of two people. Then There were at least three of them and one was probably a dude. Was I screwed or what? How was I getting out of this? "John?" the new voice asked. "John, if you are in here, I promise if you are a good boy, I'll make sure you get rewarded still." I could barely breathe. My hands felt numb. "John, we want what's best for you. I promise it won't hurt at all." I saw movement, it was the teacher that had pampered another teacher. Her ankle length flowery dress seemed to be taunting me as she moved through the room checking the few hiding places. My hiding spot under the desk should keep me relatively unseen due to it being dark in the room, but she would find me eventually. "John I'll make sure you get taken good care of, even if I have to do it myself." Her voice was motherly. "John, I know you're scared, that's pretty normal, and that bloodbath in the auditorium didn't help." She seemed for all the world a sheep in wolves clothes. She sounded like the devil, everything sounded good but wrapped up a deadly intent. "But don't worry this can be good. You won't avoid it but you can enjoy it. It's up to you, John." She kept using my name, it was unnerving. If I attacked her who knew what would happen, I'd rather not deal with the aftermath of that. "Come out John, stop hiding, you can't get out. The school is locked down, the doors locked, windows are sealed, John." She was moving between the desks now, I would have to make a break for it soon. "Tammy is here too, John. She is going to be your guardian. John, she is so excited to help you. You don't understand how lucky you are. John, you need to come out." I saw her dress round the corner as far from the door as she was ever going to get again. It was the best chance I had. I chose that moment to bolt. "John stop!" The teacher yelled. She Didn't bother to run after me. It should have been a warning, but my path was already set. I Was almost through the door. I was definitely not stopping. As I passed the door, without warning I was tackled. We went to the floor of the hallway. "Just take it easy man, this'll be over soon." Was all he said. "Who are you? What kind of traitor are you? Get off of me!" I shouted and struggled. I twisted violently; it was enough to get a better view of the traitor. I didn't know him, he was blonde with a chiseled face. He was strong enough to hold me but with effort I could probably get out. "You're not seeing the bigger picture John. We males were ruining this place, they are fixing it. I sided with them to help us get better." His voice strained as he tried to keep me from freeing myself. "John, I'm going to help you accept what we are doing here." It was Tammy, my efforts doubled, the adrenaline coursing through me seemed to double as well. She held one of those devices the guards had in the auditorium. "Leave me the hell alone you b!+(#" I growled at her. I twisted the traitor off of me and sat up. It was at that point I noticed he didn't have pants on, and in full display was one of those diapers they had put on all the other guys. My mind rebelled at the thought, I tried to hurl myself away from him, but that momentary pause was all it took. I felt something pressed to my back and a sharp pain. It only lasted a second and a wave of intense numbness started to form. I didn't wait to figure it out, or atleast I tried not to wait. I made it 3 steps before whatever had been injected into me took effect. My legs stopped working all together. I dropped to the floor like a sack of potatoes. What nightmare is this? I began to try and army crawl away. I had to get away. What had she done to me? "Don't worry it's temporary, John." Tammy said coming up behind me, she rubbed my back, shushing me. I was just trying to escape. Not that an army crawl was going to get me out of here. I was never getting away now and I realised it. I collapsed on the floor and rolled away my legs limp and trailing behind me. I batted at Tammy to get her to leave me alone. "John, this won't last long so we need to get you in your diapers before that ends, I don't want to have to inject you twice." I laid my head back and began to sob, never responding to her. She didn't deserve a response. I was hauled back into the lecture hall and onto the professor's desk. "Don't be so intolerant, man, they are actually pretty comfortable, soft and you won't need a toilet anymore." The traitor went on. "Who brainwashed you? Or are you just this pathetic?" I yelled through the tears. "What kind of person just allows themselves to be made into a baby?" Tammy moved between my knees interrupting my tirade. She unbuttoned my pants and grabbed the sides of my underwear and shorts yanked them off. "You're being such a good boy now. John, I'm glad you're letting me do this. It's better this way, you'll see." I realized I wasn't fighting back anymore and my hands had been released. What did it matter? I couldn't run. "John, I'm going to put this on you now." Patting another white rectangle that I had become way too familiar with. "You don't know all the rules yet, and that's ok, but my rules are that your care and schooling are now my responsibility. Once I tape you in, I am your guardian." "Guardian?" I squawked, "what's that supposed to mean?" She sounded crazy.``Remember the day when you signed your paperwork so you could come here free of charge and get a degree. You were promised that degree, in exchange You also promised to follow the rules of the school no matter how they evolved?" I did remember that line but it hadn't been framed that way. "Remember this school is an experiment on how society could be. We are shaping the future of our nation, and maybe the world." For the first time, something touched my mind. They may be crazy but it could follow me wherever I go, it could infect the world. "You're all sick." I spat at her. "John, you boys are dangerous, always in trouble. The only time you are not is when you are in the care of your mothers. When you are under a good motherly love. That is when a boy is at his best behavior. We are going to put you boys back where you belong, at your 'mother's' skirts. Now be a good boy." She sighed, this was the behavior of someone who was insane, but she didn't seem crazy, she was calm and put together. "I know it's no secret that I like you." She leaned down and gave a slight peck on my cheek.``this could be so much better, if only you'd just let me do this one thing" "It's not just one thing, you want to ruin me. You're a wh0r3 like the rest of them." "John, you're so angry. It'll be ok, you'll see. Your perspective is the only thing making this bad." I knew I wasn't getting out of this, in my core I was trapped. Giving up the fight I layed still and just accepted the inevitable. "Whatever." I muttered. Tammy laid her head on my chest as if she was hugging me. I could smell her soap. It was nice. Gentle like a flower but strong enough not to be missed. My legs may be paralyzed but my arms weren't, I pushed with all I had, "Don't touch me." At least I would have this memory, the one of her surprised face falling onto her rear. My hands were immediately held in place by the teacher and the other guy. They weren't letting go anymore. I was effectively immobilized now. It took her a second to recover. "John, I'm going to let that one go, because I know how traumatic this day has been. However, anymore outbursts and I'll give you the second spank you've gotten from me." She seemed to consider something for a second. "Maybe reading your rules would help you to understand better. Maybe reading both our rules would help. Hmm? What do you think?" "That's a good boy", she produced 2 pieces of cardstock paper. Holding one up she read it like you would to a small child. "Rule one, you will wear diapers at all times, the only approved time without one is bathtime and when being changed. Rule two, the boys bathrooms are now boys changing stations, until all toilets are removed they are off limits, once they are removed they will be off limits unless you are with your guardian. Rule three, you will use your diaper at all times, if you refuse, the incontinence injection will be used. This will render you without control for a time, after 5 shots it will be permanent. Rule four, your guardian, the one who taped you into your first diaper, is in charge, what she says, goes. Rule five, if you fail in these things there is an acceptable list of punishments she may use. Rule 6, pants are to only be worn when weather requires it, your guardian needs to have access to you at all times, she will also make the decision on pants." Tammy leaned down and looked in my eyes. She did have a prettiness to her. Not like a girl who was just in it to be a "hot chick." It was more subtle, more real. She was a psycho though. So no matter what, she was a no fly zone. Placing a hand on my chest, "I have wanted to reward you for a long time, will you let me now? Will you be my good boy?" Placing the diaper on my thigh she slid her hand to my groin. "I promise this will be worth it" My curiosity never even engaged. Blake's words came back to me, and I just laid there not even sobbing or acknowledging her. My pants around my knees, Tammy turned and grabbed her bag. "These diaper bags are great, so many pockets." Producing a bottle of baby powder she went to work, rubbing it in. Making sure to hit everything, she went on for a long time, trying to get me going. "Nothing huh?" The disappointment in her voice was not very satisfying. At least not as much as I wanted it to be. "You really don't get how much I hate you." She pulled something from her bag that I didn't get to see well. She Never paused, she plunged it into my belly below my belly button. I felt the pressure of the injection, and screamed as the pain hit. I felt it burning my insides. All the sudden it was like a knot I didn't know was there just released. As fast as it started it ended. "What did you do to me?" Tammy smiled, caressing my face, "I'd say there are about 5 seconds before you find out. You're going to be a good boy. Since diapers are not a punishment but me educating you, I have levied a punishment for your negative behavior." I felt the need to pee and tried to clamp down on my muscles. Tammy quickly unfolded a diaper and laid it over me. At that moment I realized she had destroyed my continence. I had about half a second to come to terms with it before I made the first mess of my adult life. "Oh no, I guess you will need me. For at least the time being, the first time should last a week or so. The second injection is about 20 days, the third about 2 months. Number four will last close to a year, and well, number 5 will have you gloriously fluffy for life." She chuckled at that. My depression grew bigger, it was like a void opening below me that I fell into. She wouldn't have time to make it permanent but she could definitely do some damage. "Calm down," Tammy had gone back to that crazy tone where she seemed emotionless. "I have the fix for you too, a nice fluffy diaper. Now let's get you taken care of. "I hate you." I said "But I love you, and I'll make you a good boy." She smiled an almost sad smile. "I understand your anger but for now, before you make another mess, let's diaper you, my good boy." The diaper was raised between my legs as I felt a final dribble escape and trickle into the padding. It was gone as fast as it leaked out. She slowly taped me in. Chatting about her rules the whole time, I wasn't listening, I was mourning my life, I would never survive this no matter how I struggled, I'd be ground to dust if I tried… _-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_ I had not planned on continuing this but I have a few ideas, if it gets enough support to keep it going, I'll be motivated if not it'll die here lol. BB

Chapter 13 I awoke the next morning completely rejuvenated. For me, waking up so rested in the early morning hours was still an unfamiliar sensation, but it showed that the habit of going to bed early was at least beneficial in one aspect. I turned my head to the side, allowing my gaze to drift slowly across the dimly lit room. It eventually came to rest on my sister's bed, nestled in the far corner of the room. Her gentle, rhythmic breathing and closed eyes confirmed that she was still sleeping. This was an uncommon sight in the morning for me. I realized that for the first time since my therapy had begun and I shared a room with my sister, I had woken up before her. It was somehow strange to wake up in such total silence. Typically, when I woke up, the room was enveloped by the familiar sounds of daily life - the gentle chatter of my sister, my mother's voice, and the inevitable creaking of footsteps in the house. However, this morning was an exception; an encompassing silence reigned in the room, punctuated only intermittently by the rhythm of raindrops drumming against the window pane. From my bed, through the window, I could see a sky painted with heavy, dark clouds. The sun, which would usually have begun to spread its soft glow across the landscape by this time, was utterly concealed. The gloomy weather outside didn't match the state of mind in which I had awakened. For the first time in weeks, I felt a sense of inner peace, a sort of equilibrium that I had missed for a long time. Lea, with her speech and her kind of care, had truly managed to kindle within me a newfound hope and enthusiasm. Feeling at peace with myself and the world, I nestled deeper into my bed. I was enjoying the quiet before my mother would wake us up. Without thinking much about it, I comfortably emptied what was left in my bladder—what my body hadn't already expelled during sleep—into my diaper. The diaper, which had been cool, damp, and uncomfortable, now matched the welcoming warmth and coziness that enveloped me under the rest of my duvet. It was only after I completely emptied my bladder that I realized it would have made more sense to use my potty for my little business. Not necessarily because it would have significantly changed the wet state my mother would find my diaper in - after all, the diaper had already been wet before. It was more about the fact that in the long run, I would only get dry if I consistently tried to use the potty. Until now, I had lived by the principle that it made no difference whether I peed in an already wet diaper or not, because sooner or later it would become apparent anyway that I had not managed to stay dry. In fact, I had preferred to use an already wet diaper again instead of signaling to a caregiver that I needed to go potty - so at least my wet diaper and failure had not always been noticed immediately. But it was Lea who had opened my eyes and made it clear to me that becoming dry was a process—a process one primarily went through for themselves and not for others. Through her, I realized that every single step counted, that one mustn't relent, even when faced with setbacks, and ultimately, it mattered less what others saw or noticed, but more about recognizing one's own progress. So, instead of being upset with myself and the world as I would have been in the past, I calmly accepted my setback and simply resolved to visit my potty more consistently in the future. The soft creaking of footsteps suddenly echoed down the hallway. The sound grew steadily closer until, finally, the door to our room slowly opened. My mother peered in, offering a loving smile when she noticed I was already awake. "Good morning, sweetheart," she said gently, approached my bed, and planted a kiss on my forehead. The fatigue etched on my mother's face was unmistakable. God knows how long she had been occupied in her law firm the previous night. When she glanced at the bed on the other side of the room and noticed my sister was still asleep, she decided to let her continue resting. She then turned to the wardrobe to pick out our outfits for the day. Loaded with a bundle of clothes, she finally closed the wardrobe doors and placed the portion of clothes she'd chosen for my sister on the chair next to her bed. The remaining pieces, clearly picked out for me, she laid out on the changing table. She then gently woke my sister and asked her to get dressed while she asked me to lie down on the changing table. "So, how did it go with Lea yesterday?" my mother inquired, half yawning casually as she loosened the tapes on my diaper with heavy eyes. A smile crept onto my face as my thoughts drifted to Lea. "It was nice. Lea is really great," I returned sincerely, which brought a satisfied smile to my mother's face. "So, has Lea gained another fan in this house? So can I hire her again in the future when I need a babysitter?" she asked with a grin. I enthusiastically nodded in agreement. It was hard to believe that I was actually looking forward to the prospect of being babysat again. As my mother disposed of my wet diaper in the diaper pail, her gaze fell back on Sophie. Sophie sat motionless on the edge of her bed, still half asleep and still clad in her pajamas. Normally, Sophie was always wide awake in the morning, but the later bedtime seemed to have taken its toll on her as well. "Sophie, no daydreaming, it's time to wake up," my mother admonished her with the familiar slightly nagging tone that all mothers seem to master, "Take off your pajamas and get into your clothes!" Sophie reluctantly got rid of her pajamas. Then she picked up the first item from the pile of clothes - her Snow White underwear. Instantly, her face lit up with joy. As she put them on, a realization seems to hit her. This was going to be a special day. For the first time ever, she was going to kindergarten without wearing pull-ups or diapers. Her excitement was clear and her smile was radiant. A twinge of envy washed over me as I glanced at Sophie in her undergarments. I too owned an identical set of Snow White undergarments. It was in this moment, I yearned to don the very underwear that I, just weeks prior, had considered profoundly childish. This seemingly trivial garment had suddenly become a symbol of maturity, a status I desperately wished to attain. However, as I dwelled on it, I felt that the goal of this maturity appeared further out of reach than ever before. Rather than guiding me into one of the Snow White underwear, eagerly waiting in the drawer to be adorned by me, my mother, after a swift cleaning of my nether regions, unveiled a fresh diaper, much to my surprise. Initially, I attributed this to her being in a somewhat drowsy state, possibly mistaking the diaper for the usual pull-ups. But as she started to explain her decision in response to my surprised look, not only did my hope that it was simply a mistake fade, but also my newfound optimism regarding my situation. "Emily, I know you've always worn pull-ups at kindergarten," my mother began explaining in response to my surprised look, "but yesterday, I had a very detailed phone call with Mrs. Weber. She told me about your frequent accidents, and together we concluded that it's currently best for you to wear diapers at kindergarten, until you manage to use your potty more regularly." "But, …, but..." I desperately searched for the right words, "I don't want to wear diapers. No other girl in the big group wears diapers. The other kids will laugh at me," I sobbed, tears uncontrollably rolling down my cheeks. "Emily, no one will laugh at you. Besides, we have decided that you will be moving to the younger group for now. Many children there still wear diapers anyway. You currently need more support than Mrs. Weber can provide in the older group. The younger group has significantly fewer children, so the kindergarten teacher there can better attend to your needs," she revealed, dropping another piece of news that felt like another punch in my gut. My mother's words echoed in my ears. I could feel more and more tears streaming down my cheeks. The crushing realization that I required more support in a group that I was actually too old for than the caregiver could provide, felt like a stab to my heart. I had been well aware that I had peed my pants more often than the other children in the group, but I only now became aware of the full extent. A wave of shame wash over me that seemed to almost swallow me up. A feeling of powerlessness spread through me, making me feel small and helpless. The confident feeling with which I had awakened this morning had completely vanished. "Emily, it's only temporary, until you get better at using your potty," my mother tried to console me. Yet, her words couldn't lift the weight that was now pressing on my chest. Trapped in my sadness and frustration, I fell into a silent stupor, unable to utter a word or make a move. If everyone believed that I was a baby, then I might as well behave like one completely. From now on, I would simply not do anything at all, I decided defiantly. After my mother had tried several times in vain to get me to lift my hands so she could remove the top of my pajamas, she took matters into her own hands. With some effort, as I was not willing to move a single muscle, she peeled off my pajama top and pulled a dress covered with colorful children's drawings over me. Since I didn't move to the bathroom to brush my teeth on my own, my mother eventually picked me up and carried me there. She gently placed me on a stool in front of the sink. With a practiced hand, she squeezed a small amount of toothpaste onto my Minnie Mouse toothbrush and tried to pass it to me. Yet, all her encouraging words and attempts to get me to grab the toothbrush were unsuccessful. After several failed attempts to win the silent power struggle, a flicker of desperation filled her eyes. A quick glance at the clock made her groan; she grabbed the toothbrush and gently opened my mouth. With calm, mechanical movements, she brushed my teeth while I quietly and impassively let her. Visibly drained and at the edge of her patience, she then carried me to the wardrobe where she put on my shoes and jacket. A silent form of satisfaction filled me as my mother, with her face covered in sweat and fatigue, carried me to the car and buckled me into my child seat. However, my satisfaction quickly faded as I realized that a dress was probably the most unsuitable garment to hide a diaper while sitting in a child seat. No matter what I did, the seatbelts prevented me from pulling the dress far enough down to hide the diaper underneath. In addition, the five-point harness that held me securely in my seat constantly pressed the diaper against my skin. In the meantime, I had figured out how to release the child safety lock on the belts of my seat. All it took was a pointed object like a key, carefully inserted into the narrow slot next to the buckle while pressing the release button. But naturally, I didn't have such an item on hand. So I had no choice but to sit through the drive to kindergarten with my diaper visible to anyone who looked into the car. My gaze landed on Sophie, who was also already sitting in her child seat in the back. I couldn't help but notice how much more grown-up her clothes seemed compared to my colourful dress. Her short jeans, her simple t-shirt, and her rain jacket, unlike my clothes, bore no colourful children's patterns. And in her crotch, there was no thick diaper adorned with little princesses and unicorns, as was the case with me. Embarrassingly, I noticed that Sophie not only looked more mature than I did, but she had also behaved so this morning. While I had stubbornly resisted every action like a toddler, she had dressed herself, brushed her teeth on her own, and even went to the toilet by herself. I may have been the older of the two of us, but I had behaved like a small, whiny child.

Here's mine

PLAYING THE FIELD “So let's make sure that we're all on the same page here.” Once Rita stepped aside, Ian had wasted no time getting his feet on the floor. It was bad enough trying to negotiate with two beautiful and highly intelligent women, one of whom held a key to his heart and the other the key to his otherwise impenetrable diaper cover. Trying to do so when locked inside a crib that he couldn't open, a crib brimming with restraints that he perversely welcomed, was simply not in the cards. “I'll stay here until Monday morning, when someone will take me to work, where Amy will be in charge of my diaper changes until Sarah picks me up in the afternoon. I'll continue to wear this diaper cover, and will do so permanently if that's what Sarah desires. And I'll give up alcohol and drink breast milk in its place, in preparation for the day when all three of you will be breast feeding me.” “That's right, Princess, to the tune of thirty-six bottles a day.” Which will turn you into quite the little chubster, a cutie pie who will need his aunties to change his diapees at least fifteen times a day. My sweet, little Princess Poopy Pants indeed! “And in return I get regular food and drink, starting right now with a visit to your cafeteria … water and juice … soup, salad, meat, potatoes, veg … the whole nine yards. And no baby food-- no way, no how, ever!” “Agreed, with the proviso that in private your drink will always be limited to baby bottles unless one of us says otherwise. No cups, no glassware, not even sippy cups!” And your meat, potatoes and vegetables will probably be pureed, but technically it won't be baby food … Rita was determined to feed the Princess a bottle or two before the day was done; she had yet to experience the feeling of cradling Ian's head in her lap, but the mere thought of doing so was sending goosebumps down her spine. Like Vickie before her epiphany moment, Rita was still struggling with the fact that she had deep feelings for Ian, and didn't know how to process them. Lunch at the faculty club five days a week is beginning to look like a really good idea, especially if my secretary is being caught up in this nonsense. And maybe I should start accepting some of those late afternoon public lecture invites that are always cluttering up my faculty mail box … the wine and hors d'oeuvres should take the edge off my appetite. Thirty-six bottles of breast milk indeed! In your dreams! “Before we go downstairs, there are a few things you need to know.” Rita did not think that this outing was a good idea because it was about as far removed from John's order to keep Ian “under wraps” as you could get. Still, she reasoned that if he was going to have another seizure, it was better for it to happen in the cafeteria with a hundred doctors and nurses demanding that he publicly decide between Sarah and Vickie, and not wait for some headhunter to bushwhack him crossing campus on Monday morning. “First, you need to know that Gayle Soderberg in Patient Relations may show up with Harrison Knowles, her Director, in tow. If they come, you should expect them to wave a checkbook in your face. They badly need your language skills, and I'm betting that they will offer you a lot of money to switch jobs. Be polite, but tell them firmly that this is something that you have to discuss with Sarah, and that the two of you will come to a decision together. Can you do this?” “Easily. But why not simply tell them to deal with Sarah and leave me out of it?” “Because they won't believe you … unless I tell them about your seizure and what caused it. And that may come up, in which case you can tell them the truth-- that you don't remember a damned thing-- and defer to me. I'll handle it.” “This is going to keep happening, isn't it?” Ian's tone was resigned. He could see it in Vickie's eyes as well as Rita's, sorrow and pity laced with fear. “The danger is real.” Vickie's voice was toneless, and that shook Ian hard. “John is trying to arrange for campus police to protect you on Monday, but there are no guarantees, and it's a band-aid in any event. The cure lies within you.” “I don't understand ...” “We are talking about something that the public never sees,” Rita sadly admitted, “and that's the dark underbelly of the medical profession. It's money, Ian, and the sums in question are staggering. You have a remarkable skill set; indeed, you may be unique-- a man who is fluent in Khmer, Lao, Vietnamese, and God only knows how many other languages. By the way, how many do you speak? I don't think any of us ever bothered to ask.” “Eighteen fluently … maybe another hundred and fifty well enough to read the menu and order dinner. I've never counted.” “Dear God!” Vickie shook her head in amazement. “How did they miss you? How did you ever slip through the cracks?” “Who?” “The headhunters! They beat the bushes looking for talent that they can sign up, and then they make a fortune auctioning off people like you to the highest corporate bidder. It goes on in this business day in and day out … it never stops!” “But this doesn't make any sense. I commanded the Headhunters!” “What? What are you talking about?” “It was two months after Hue. They patched me up, but there was no way that I could have passed a physical, not with my shoulder so screwed up, so they didn't give me one. Instead they sent me back to Saigon, a newly minted twenty-two old Major, and they tasked me with assembling an all-volunteer company of guys from all over the map-- the US, South Korea, France, Australia, and of course ARVN regulars. Our job was simple: search and destroy. That's how we became the Headhunters. We didn't sit around in bunkers and pillboxes playing defense; we were a guerilla force that went looking for the enemy, which in practice meant that we were out there looking for the Ho Chi Minh trail. We were fighting in the shadows-- no other choice, really, because we often found ourselves in places where no American troops were supposed to be.” “But what does this have to do with our corporate headhunters?” “Everything, aunt Vickie, everything. Don't you see? There were rumors. Every time I went back to Saigon, I heard rumors about the Headhunters and their cocky CO, some young kid who happened to speak all these foreign languages. So, I didn't fall through the cracks. When I resigned my commission, the army buried my records … mine and the unit's. We simply ceased to exist. After that I became just another graduate student, lost in the shuffle of student ID numbers.” More artful evasion. You told Phil that you and the military parted ways on bad terms, and that you went back to Viet Nam as a civilian. What was that all about? “And now we've brought you out of the shadows and turned this great, big spotlight on you. God, what a mess!” “No, aunt Rita! God, no! To help Phil and Don? This was my choice, and it was an easy one for me to make because duty and honor will trump fear every time. That's why you're so wrong about heroes. It isn't just anger … it's something deep down inside that's more important than life itself!” “Reiko's samurai.” Vickie was finally ready to concede the point. “That's what she calls you, a samurai warrior from Japan's distant past. And you are … you really are. And here I've gone and fallen in love with you. Does this mean that I was a geisha in some previous life?” Ian reached out and clasped both of Vickie's hands in his own. “Geisha are renowned for their beauty, their intellect, their talent, and their charm. You would have stood head and shoulders above them all.” He pulled her close, and then tenderly kissed her. Rita let the moment linger. She and Vickie were like sisters, and had been for years. But there had always been something missing in Vickie's life, although Rita doubted whether many of their friends and colleagues sensed it. Vickie's devil may care attitude was so convincing that the hints of underlying sadness were easily missed or explained away. But they were there-- and now they were gone. Like Candy, Rita had caught it the moment Vickie walked into the conference room. Her stride was longer, her posture more erect, and her eyes intensely alive. Ian had set something inside her free, and the result was almost achingly beautiful. Reiko was right from the beginning. We all want to fall in love with a hero, but not one who walks among the gods. We want a fallen hero, someone who cannot stand without our love and care to support him. The honorable man and the helpless baby. Bian has gifted us with something truly magical. . . . . Marge wiped Don's forehead with a damp washcloth, and then gently dabbed his cheeks. His skin was pale and cold to the touch, yet he was sweating profusely. His eyes were in constant motion, darting back and forth between imaginary enemies. She was holding his hand, their fingers tightly laced. Marge had removed the mittens so that she could comfort him, but he was otherwise fully restrained. She reckoned that it had taken her twelve long hours to get him to acknowledge her presence, and to respond to her questions not with sentences but with a few disjointed words. But he's responsive, and that's the critical point. With patience and care, we can make the Corporal whole again … “What is it that you see out there?” Marge spoke slowly, and in a monotone. She was taking great care not to do or say anything that would startle him. “Suh … suh … suh … snake.” “What kind of snake?” Sitting on a stool, with the side of the crib lowered, she was at his eye level, and filled his field of vision. What he saw was a calm demeanor, and what he heard was the warmth of a maternal voice. “Cuh … cuh … cuh … co … cob … ra.” “Is it daytime, or nighttime?” “Da … day.” “And where are you? Are you in Quang Tri?” “Yeh … yeh … yeth.” “Were you working, or were you in bed?” “Bed. Red … reed … reeding.” “Were you reading a letter from home?” “Yeth.” “What happened to the snake?” “Die … die … duh.” “Did you shoot the snake?” “Yeth.” “That's good, Corporal Phillips. That's very good. You did well.” “Suh … snakes. Meeny … snakes.” “I know, and you did well. Now, I want you to eat something. How about a treat? Do you like chocolate pudding?” Marge was holding a spoon, moving it in a lazy circle inside his field of vision. Don opened his mouth, and Marge slowly spoon fed him. He swallowed without gagging, and Marge silently fed him the entire bowl. Lifting his head with her free hand, she offered him water through a straw. He got most of it down, and she used the wash cloth to mop up what had dribbled out of his open mouth. Unlocking his diaper cover, Marge loosened it just enough to slip her hand inside Don's baby pants. She was relieved to discover that he was still clean and dry, sparing her and one of the orderlies another cumbersome diaper change. Foregoing the mittens, Marge leaned into the crib to kiss Don affectionately on the cheek before raising and locking the bars in place. They were making hard but steady progress, and she wanted him to rest in preparation for an afternoon session. But now it was time for lunch, which meant a quick dash down to the cafeteria to grab a sandwich and fruit, and an equally quick dash back upstairs to take over for Rita, who had her own session with Ian just ahead. On this late Sunday morning, it was business as usual inside the Hotel California. . . . . Two down, one to go … Ian was back in the locker room, freshly diapered and, for the moment at least, clean and dry. One more door was all that stood between him and getting his life back. The problem was … he wasn't at all sure that he wanted it back. He had been in the ward less than seventy-two hours, but he wasn't about to kid himself. The man who was getting dressed to leave the ward was not the same man who had got undressed to enter it. A lot had happened inside that door, and with the exception of his lone visit to Hell's own diaper changing station, it had all been good. Helping Phil and Don … bonding with Amos and Andy … working so closely with Becky and Candy … and above all else, discovering in the most improbable of circumstances that he had fallen in love with a woman he had once casually dismissed as bar bait. The admission had hit him hard, so hard that if he had been standing on his feet, it would have knocked them out from under him. All things considered, therefore, he considered himself fortunate to have been lying in the midst of Thanksgiving dinner when the sledgehammer descended. And like any reasonably rational being who has just discovered that he has fallen in love with two women who are the closest of friends, Ian had begun instantly to second guess himself. He had, after all, been in love once before. He had married Emily, and they had ended up detesting one another, the divorce mutually beneficial. Viewed rationally, “love” was the most abused concept in the human universe. He didn't trust it. But it turned out that Maxwell's silver hammer, incarnate in the form of a turkey drumstick, was not Ian's epiphany moment. Sitting in the locker room, struggling to get his pants on over the mass of cloth, vinyl and canvas that at once protected and frustrated him, he realized that this had come but bare minutes earlier, when he was still trapped in his crib, struggling to lay his hands on a decent meal: Oh, it will take a bit of negotiation to work out the fine details, but trust me, you are not going to have to decide between Sarah and me. You will have us both, and do not think for a moment that you are going to leave Rita on the outside looking in. This was Ian's epiphany moment. He had felt it in the very depths of his soul. He had been staring into Vickie's eyes, eyes so warm and expressive, and he had caught the conviction lurking just beneath the merriment. He believed her. Just as he believed Sarah. He trusted her. Just as he trusted Sarah. He would never have entered the race except for Sarah. And he could not win it without Vickie. It was a race that he did not want to run, but it was a race that he had to win. He could only prevail if he conquered his fear, but on this battlefield anger would be of no use to him whatsoever. Worse yet, giri, the ancient Japanese concept that so defined him, with its calls to duty, honor and so much more, offered little hope. He had no weapons with which to fight. It was as he had explained it to Sarah over dinner at the Dead Zone. In the end, it came down to a matter of trust-- of which he had very little. Until now. Princess Poopy Pants alternately puzzled and amused him. If there was a female side to his personality, he was pretty sure that it was very well hidden indeed. No matter. He trusted Vickie to get this right. If she wanted him to wear a baby dress and drink breast milk from pink baby bottles, he would cheerfully do so. If spankings would keep his therapy on track, he would suffer them gladly. For Sarah, for Vickie. For himself. And maybe … just maybe … Princess Poopy Pants could fill in the gaps in his recent memories. If she was real. The gaps terrified him. Yesterday morning was gone, and yet something had happened that left Rita badly shaken. He had seen it in her eyes and heard it in her voice when she was literally pleading with him not to wander off on his own. Ian made a mental note to ask Vickie to find out whether the Princess had been home yesterday morning, and could bear witness on his behalf. If she was real, it was bloody well time to put her to work. . . . . “While he's getting dressed,” Rita murmured, “I'll duck into my office and call Manny and Heidi. Unless someone's come up with a better idea, we'll go with feeding Ian to the lions.” “Wonderful,” Vickie whispered in return. “Just wonderful. Here I've gone to all the trouble of falling in love with the guy, and now we're going to turn him into lunch meat. Some first date.” “Well, get your butt over there, sit down, give him a peck on the cheek, and then lay it out for him. Remind him that he's our patient, has a right to privacy, and that we take this sort of thing rather seriously. I'll warn Manny to go easy here, but it would really help if Ian would be willing to disclose that he was the subject of the code 2222. You know the score, Vic; around here it's all fun and games until it's not.” . . . . “Alone at last.” Vickie's smile was heartfelt. She wrapped her arm around Ian's waist, and rested her head on his shoulder. It felt good to be in love. Ian had filled a hole inside her that she had not even realized was there. “But not for long.” He reached out and pulled her still closer. “Anyway … is there anything good on the menu today?” “You men!” Vickie was laughing as she sat up straight. “Do you ever think about anything but your stomachs and your dicks?” “Not really. And a word to the wise: hungry men do not make attentive lovers.” “Then I'd go with the meat loaf, mashed potatoes and gravy, and green beans. And don't be surprised if cranberry sauce ends up on your tray, whether you want it or not. Vickie's magic drumstick, and Ian's magical tongue, have become the stuff of hospital legend!” “How about the pumpkin pie? Can I have it with real whipped cream?” “Ah, the possibilities … the endless possibilities. Rest assured that whipped cream and chocolate sauce are perennial favorites in my kitchen.” “You forgot the maraschino cherries,” he whispered in her ear. What Ian really wanted to do was drive his tongue into Vickie's ear, but the damned diaper cover was ruining his act, and it was abundantly clear that Vickie did not have the key. “I've forgotten nothing,” she grinned, knowing that his de facto chastity belt was competing with his stomach for attention. “Speaking of which, I need to bring you up to speed about what awaits you in the cafeteria. You really are a celebrity, Ian, in a dump that runs on gossip, and with a staff that's hard wired to bet on anything. Any … way, someone figured out that Vickie's crush and Sarah's boyfriend are one and the same, which got the pool off and running. Who would the mysterious Ian Grady choose to make his own? I'm rather proud of the fact that I started off as a ten to one favorite, and even after the third and seventh floors bet heavily on Sarah, I'm still going off at four to one!” “Wow! This is so cool! But how does it work? I mean … do you have a bookie or something?” “Yep. Manny Cepeda runs the whole casino out of the subbasement. He's the Head Supervisor for Building Services … and he wants to meet you in the cafeteria. He's not paying anyone anything until he's heard from you-- a public pronouncement. You should expect an audience of between one and two hundred doctors, nurses and assorted staff to be hanging on every bite of your meat loaf because this looks to be the largest pool in hospital history!” “Double wow!! Is it too late for me to get in on the action?” “NAUGHTY BABY! Vickie laughed, but she also slapped Ian's thigh very hard. “Are you looking for another spankie when we come back upstairs, hmm? 'Cause I love spanking your cute, widdle butt!” “You are coming back up with us, aren't you?” She was worried that, once free of the ward, Ian would refuse to reenter it. “I've got religion,” he responded as he reached out once more to pull Vickie close. “You and Rita, both; you've convinced me that I'm on very shaky ground. Friday morning is not here, Vix.” Ian was tapping on his forehead. “And it's scary. Which reminds me … can you ask Princess Poopy Pants if she was there? Maybe she can fill in the missing pieces.” “That's a terrific idea! Ian, thank you … you know, you would have made a great therapist! How could I have missed this?” Vickie was shaking her head in exasperation-- therapists weren't supposed to miss the screamingly obvious. “I'll send you a bill,” he chuckled. “And can I pay in the currency of my choice?” Vickie was licking her lips in anticipation, thinking about the bowls of cranberry sauce that undoubtedly awaited in the cafeteria. In her imagination, she was slowly pouring the sauce all over her chest, and Ian was stepping forward to lick it off. She was holding his head in her hands, his tongue flicking like a serpent's, first to one breast and then to the other. And the whole hospital, suitably awestruck, was cheering them on, Manny Cepeda calling out the odds on the exact minute when she would have another earth-shattering orgasm … “Are you okay?” Returning to earth, Vickie could see concern written all over Ian's face … concern for her. It felt good to be loved. “Yes and no. I was thinking about that damned diaper cover of yours. It's keeping you in, but it's also keeping me out. I NEED SEX!!!” “Well, couldn't we, like, cut it off?” “No. The lining is reinforced with steel thread, and the canvas itself is too thick to attack with scissors. We're stuck.” Vickie climbed to her feet, and pulled Ian up to stand beside her. “Let's go collect Rita, and head downstairs. Just remember that someone may ask us about the call that we made for a crash team to stand by. We can hide behind doctor-patient confidentiality, but we can't stop the rumors. Rita and I both think that it would be in your best interest simply to admit that you had an event, that you don't remember the details, and that we are treating you for it. I want our neurology unit to look you over, and this will get you in there quick.” “But I can't afford ...” “They'll lose the bill.” “How about … do I need to sign some kind of waiver to protect Rita … the … the confidentiality thing?” Vickie shook her head in mock despair. “Do you always have to be such a nice guy? Do you have any idea how hard you're making it for me to spank you? Do you? I swear, Ian; I love you, but sometimes you're just no fun at all!” . . . . Ian walked out of the ward with his tie off and his shirt collar unbuttoned. In all other respects, he appeared to be the same man who had entered the ward on Wednesday afternoon, and he knew it. But there was simply no putting the lid back on Pandora's Box, and he wasn't about to try running away from a reality that kept rising up and kicking him where it hurts. How was he supposed to ignore the face that he was now closely flanked by Rita and Vickie? Were they his babysitters, bodyguards, or both? He loved Vickie, but what was he to make of his feelings for Rita? Almost overnight, his life had become very, very complicated. In the corner off to his right, Ian spotted Phil Kettering. Phil was talking with an older couple, and the scene reeked of awkward and long overdue family reunion. Becky, sitting a bit to Phil's right and looking very relaxed, glanced up and smiled in his direction. He smiled in return, glad to see that things were going well. Ian looked up at one of the television screens overhead, and stopped in mid-stride. Wile was collecting still another package from Acme, doubtless yet one more Rube Goldberg device to be deployed in his never ending quest to catch, cook, and eat the detestable Roadrunner. Ian Samuel Grady and Wile E. Coyote were kindred spirits, but still … How is Wile paying for all this stuff? Can coyotes get credit cards? All in all, Ian was in a very good mood as they entered the elevator and started the long descent to the basement.

Made a slight adjustment to the flow of the story, this has evolved into a new story. So I will be closing this one out with one more part and opening up the next story in a new thread. PART 4 - Kylie Thompson woke up to the gentle sound of a mobile playing a lullaby, the notes soft and delicate as they reached her ears. For a moment, she lay still, eyes wide open, taking in the surroundings of her new environment. The room, once a normal teenage bedroom, had been transformed into a pastel-hued nursery, filled with teddy bears, dolls, and babyish decorations. The walls were adorned with cheerful animal prints and the furniture had been replaced with baby furnishings, including the large crib where she found herself. As she squirmed around in the crib, her mind still clouded with sleep, she became aware of a very wet and uncomfortable sensation around her waist. Her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red as she realized that her diaper was soaked. Panic set in as she tried to sit up, only to find that the crib's railings were too high for her to climb over. She was trapped inside, utterly helpless, just like a real baby. "M-Mom?" she called out hesitantly, but there was no response. Her heart started to race as she realized how helpless she was. Adjusting her approach, she cried out in a more babyish tone, "Mommy, mommy!" Mrs. Thompson heard her daughter's cry through the newly installed baby monitor and smiled, satisfied by Kylie's babyish behavior. She made her way to the nursery, her heart a mixture of amusement and determination. As she entered the room, Mrs. Thompson's eyes sparkled with condescension as she approached the crib. "Good morning, my soggy little baby!" she cooed, lowering the crib rail and reaching out to help Kylie to her feet. "Let's get you changed, sweetie. Can't have you sitting in that wet diaper all morning, can we?" Kylie's face turned even redder as her mother's hands guided her over to the changing table. She was laid down, and the process began. Each step was narrated by her mother in a playful and condescending tone, emphasizing the humiliation of the situation. "First, we'll undo these tapes. Oh my, someone was a very wet girl last night," Mrs. Thompson teased, pulling off the wet diaper. Kylie whimpered, squirming under her mother's gaze. "Stay still, sweetie. Now, we'll wipe you clean," Mrs. Thompson continued, her hands deftly maneuvering a baby wipe across Kylie's skin. "Then, a little lotion to keep that baby-soft skin nice and smooth." Kylie's breath hitched as the cool lotion was applied, her mother's hands gentle yet firm. The scent of baby powder filled the air as her mother sprinkled it over her, a cloud of white puffing up around her. "And now, the fresh new diaper!" Mrs. Thompson announced, her voice dripping with sarcasm as she taped the clean diaper around Kylie's waist. "There you go, all clean and dry, just like a good little baby should be." Kylie's embarrassment was complete, yet she couldn't help but feel a strange sense of excitement as well. She was living out her deepest desires, even if it was under the stern and teasing gaze of her mother. Next came the task of picking out Kylie's outfit for the day. Much to her dismay, Mrs. Thompson settled on a pair of skirtalls with a Winnie the Pooh t-shirt and little Velcro shoes with frilly socks. "You'll look absolutely adorable in this, my little one," her mother said, her voice laced with amusement. Kylie's protest was met with a stern look. "Big girls don't get to choose what they wear, sweetie. That's Mommy's job," Mrs. Thompson said, her tone both sweet and condescending. Breakfast was another trial for Kylie. Seated in her high chair, she squirmed as her mother fussed over her, showering her with baby talk and teasing comments. The sight of a big bowl of oatmeal, filled with high fiber ingredients, made her stomach turn. "Open wide, baby girl," Mrs. Thompson cooed, spooning a mouthful of oatmeal towards Kylie's lips. "I can feed myself," Kylie protested, but her mother was unrelenting. "Oh, no you can't, sweetie. Babies need to be fed, don't they?" Mrs. Thompson insisted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now open up, or Mommy will have to make airplane noises." Kylie's father, watching the ordeal with amusement, chuckled at his wife's antics. The room was filled with the sounds of playful teasing and Kylie's embarrassed whimpers. After some more playful feeding, Mrs. Thompson wiped Kylie’s face and then put paw patrol on for the television and got another bottle out of the fridge “Now be good, drink your whole baba and watch your little show for the next few minutes while mommy gets somethings done and makes a phone call.” Kylie nodded sheepishly and began to suck on her bottle. She slowly became entranced by the colorful characters of Paw Patrol dancing across the television screen as she mindlessly nursed her adult baby bottle. Her mother bustled around the kitchen, multitasking with ease as she prepped for the day and took a few urgent work calls. The lively tunes from the TV show filled the room as Kylie's father gave both his wife and daughter a kiss on the cheek, making his way out the door. A sudden, intense pressure in Kylie's stomach jolted her attention away from the screen. She squirmed in her chair, anxiety rising within her. "Mom! Mom, I need you!" she called out, only to be met with a dismissive wave from her mother, who was engrossed in a phone conversation. The pressure grew unbearable, she clenched and tried to free herself of the confines of her chair as she struggled to prevent the inevitable. Suddenly with a mixture of shock and humiliation, Kylie lost control, lifted herself up slightly and felt a massive load of mush escape her quickly filling up the back of her diaper. Defeated and horribly embarrassed she let herself down into the chair slowly feeling the contents of her mess spread out beneath her. Her cheeks flushed beet red, tears welled up in her eyes, and she continued to nurse her bottle, confined to her high chair. Mrs. Thompson, becoming aware of the time, hastily ended her call. She approached Kylie, and the unpleasant smell hit her instantly. "Oh my, someone couldn't wait!" she exclaimed, a playful tease lacing her voice, though her eyes revealed a hint of annoyance. "I'm afraid there's no time for a change, sweetie. Ms. Daisy will have to take care of that stinky bottom." Kylie's voice caught in a whine, her embarrassment turning to desperation. "But Mommy, please change me! I don't wanna go like this!" Her mother's response was firm, condescending, and pragmatic. She popped a pacifier into Kylie's mouth, silencing her protests. "You wanted to be a baby, my dear. Babies don't get to choose when they get changed. Now, let's get you to daycare, stinky butt." The playful sarcasm in her voice did little to ease Kylie's distress. The journey to the car was a humiliating blur for Kylie. Strapped into her car seat, her mother making sure to tighten the straps between her messy diaper, she was acutely aware of every sensation. Her mother rolled down the windows, laughing as she playfully teased Kylie about the smell. "Whew! You sure are a stinky one today!" Arriving at daycare, Mrs. Thompson carried Kylie's diaper bag, her steps brisk as she led her daughter inside. Apologizing to Ms. Daisy, the sweet and playful daycare teacher, she explained the rush and Kylie's messy state. The grown-ups' laughter filled the room as they joked about the situation, Kylie's cheeks burning with embarrassment as she stood there, the reality of her babyish state settling in. Mrs. Thompson leaned down to Kylie, her playful smile belying the stern undertone. "Now, be a good girl for Ms. Daisy, and don't give them too much trouble today, my little stinker," she cooed, patting Kylie's diaper and giving her a quick kiss on the forehead. Her teasing words were laced with a condescending air, and she shot Ms. Daisy a knowing glance. Ms. Daisy's eyes twinkled with gentle mockery as she responded, "Oh, don't you worry! We'll take good care of this little one. Won't we, Kylie-bear?" Her tone was sweet, yet there was an underlying hint of reprimand, acknowledging Kylie's unusual behavior. With that, Mrs. Thompson departed, leaving Kylie with Ms. Daisy and her assistant, Ms. Emily. Ms. Daisy turned to Ms. Emily, her voice dropping slightly, "Could you please take care of Kylie's diaper while I greet the others?" Ms. Emily's eyebrows shot up, surprised by the request. "Her diaper? Isn't she a bit old for..." Her voice trailed off as she looked at Kylie, a puzzled frown on her face. "Oh, you haven't heard?" Ms. Daisy's voice was gentle but firm. "Kylie's been having some trouble being a big girl lately. She needs a little bit of extra attention, just think of her like a big baby” She offered an encouraging smile, though her eyes held a hint of annoyance. Kylie felt her cheeks heat up, embarrassment flooding her as Ms. Emily took her by the hand and led her toward the changing area. The changing table was clearly designed for much younger children, and Kylie's feet stuck out over the edge, drawing a joking comment from Ms. Emily, "My, my, aren't we getting far too big for diapers?" The diaper change that followed was an agonizing ordeal for Kylie. Ms. Emily's playful commentary, describing each motion and showering her with condescending baby talk, only added to her humiliation. "Aww, someone's a messy little baby isn’t she, doesn’t look like you’re anywhere near ready for potty training… oh well maybe one day, let's get you all cleaned up and into a new baby diaper before you have another accident,” Ms. Emily cooed with a slight air of condescension, removing the soiled diaper and beginning the large task of wiping Kylie’s messy bottom. Kylie couldn't help but protest, her voice thick with emotion. "I'm not a baby! I can use the potty!" Ms. Emily's response was dismissive, a hint of annoyance creeping into her voice. "Well, big girls don't mess their diapers. Now hold still, little one." She deftly applied baby powder, fastened the fresh diaper, and helped Kylie back to the floor. Kylie's initial instinct was to head for the play area, but Ms. Emily's firm grip stopped her. "Not so fast, young lady. The playpen is for you until you show us you can be a big girl." Despite Kylie's protests, Ms. Emily guided her to the playpen, handed her a rattle, and popped her pacifier back in her mouth. "Be good until class starts," she said, her voice edged with a hint of frustration. Kylie's world seemed to shrink as she sat in the playpen, surrounded by toys meant for babies. The humiliation, the teasing, and the condescension from the adults weighed heavily on her. Yet, beneath it all, a spark of determination ignited. She would show them that she could be a big girl. As she shook the rattle, a hollow sound that echoed her own feelings, she watched the other children arrive for class, each one blissfully unaware of her inner turmoil. She couldn't escape the realization that she had put herself in this position, and now she had to find a way out. The next few minutes passed slowly and Kylie was relieved when Ms. Daisy opened the baby gate of the playpen, beckoning the other small children and Kylie to come out. Kylie stood up while several of the children crawled toward the center of the room. Immediately realizing how much she stood out. As the children settled down, Ms. Daisy clapped her hands, signaling the start of circle time. "Alright little ones, gather around! Let's start our day with a song!" Her voice was melodic and inviting, yet held a hint of authority that ensured even the most restless of toddlers listened. Kylie sat cross-legged at the outer edge of the circle, feeling out of place. She felt the weight of the eyes on her - a mixture of innocent curiosity from the kids and hidden judgment from the adults. Ms. Daisy led the group in a series of familiar nursery rhymes. While the other children joyfully sang along, clapping and swaying, Kylie tried to keep a low profile, mouthing the words half-heartedly. Next came arts and crafts, an activity Kylie used to love. Today, they were painting simple shapes onto large sheets of paper. With a palette of vibrant colors before her, Kylie tried to lose herself in the activity. But her attempt at creating art was interrupted when she accidentally knocked over a jar of blue paint. The liquid spread rapidly, creating a puddle that seeped through her drawing and splashed onto her clothes. "Oh dear, look at this mess!" Ms. Emily exclaimed, rushing over with a towel. She seemed flustered, her annoyance evident. "You have to be careful, sweetie. Perhaps we’ll just stick with crayons next time.” Her comment drew snickers from some of the older kids, deepening Kylie's embarrassment. Before Kylie could clean herself up, it was snack time. The room was filled with the scent of freshly baked cookies and juice boxes. But when Ms. Daisy approached Kylie, it wasn't with a cookie. Instead, she had a baby bottle filled with milk. "Your mother left specific instructions," Ms. Daisy said, her voice dripping with saccharine sweetness, "You need your bottle." Kylie opened her mouth to protest, but Ms. Daisy was already settling into a chair, patting her lap. "Come now, Kylie. It's bottle time." Kylie felt a lump form in her throat as she made her way over, the eyes of every child in the room fixed on her. Kylie climbed up onto her lap, and before she knew it, the nipple of the bottle was pressed to her lips. Soon, it was time for outside play. The children excitedly ran out, eager to enjoy the outdoor play equipment. Kylie, still reeling from the morning's events, immediately went towards the jungle gym but was stopped by Ms. Emily. “Nuh uh uh, little miss, you need to be supervised so you can play with me and the other little ones. How about the swings!” Kylie was defeated as Ms. Emily took her by the hand, leading her towards the baby swing. "Here you go, Kylie," she said, her tone dripping with condescension. "I think this swing is just perfect for you." Kylie's cheeks burned with embarrassment as she was settled into the swing. Her feet stuck out awkwardly, and the seat was tight around her padded bottom, she felt so silly. Ms. Emily's face wore a thin smile as she pushed Kylie back and forth, but her eyes betrayed her annoyance. "You know, Kylie, if you show a little bit more maturity and start acting like a big girl, you can get more freedom” Ms. Emily remarked, her voice filled with playful teasing. "But since you’re acting like a baby, it’s only appropriate we treat you like one.” Kylie's humiliation grew with each word, each push of the swing. She wanted to protest, to scream that she was not a baby. But she knew that her current situation made such assertions impossible. The swing continued its back-and-forth motion, lulling Kylie into a deceptive sense of comfort. Her mind began to wander, and she allowed herself to momentarily forget her surroundings. And then, it happened. A sudden urge to pee, a sensation that caught her off guard. Panic set in as she realized what was about to occur. Her thoughts raced, a jumble of confusion and desperation. She couldn't hold it; she knew she couldn't. The warmth spread through her diaper, a feeling both comforting and terrifying. Kylie's breath caught in her throat as she realized the full extent of her situation. Her diaper was not just wet; it was leaking. "Ms. Emily," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper. "I think... I think I need a change." Ms. Emily's eyes widened as she saw the dampness spreading on the swing's seat. The realization hit her, and her face twisted into a mask of frustration and disgust. "Kylie!" she exclaimed, her voice filled with disbelief. "Look at the mess you've made! You're far too big to be having leaky diapers, why didn’t you tell me you needed a change earlier” Tears welled in Kylie's eyes as she was helped out of the swing, the wetness running down her legs, her clothes soaked. Ms. Emily's expression was a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment as she led Kylie back inside to the changing table once again, muttering under her breath. The diaper change was slow and methodical, each movement emphasizing Kylie's babyish state Ms. Emily's patience seemed to wear thin as she undid the sodden diaper, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "This is unbelievable," she muttered, trying to clean up the mess. As she powdered and taped a fresh diaper around Kylie, her commentary became sharper. “We really need to figure out how we are going to handle your heavy accidents little lady, this is getting out of hand” After securing the fresh diaper around Kylie, Ms. Emily paused, looking down at the disheartened girl. The tears shimmering in Kylie's eyes seemed to penetrate the usual cool exterior of the daycare assistant. "Oh, dear," Ms. Emily cooed sarcastically, her voice lilting in a singsong manner. "Look at that sad little face. That won't do, will it? You look like the world's just ended! Time for some cheer-up tactics, I think." Before Kylie could react, Ms. Emily's hands were in front of her face. "Peek-a-boo!" she cooed, wiggling her fingers and hiding her face, only to pop out a moment later with a goofy expression. Kylie blinked, taken aback by the sudden shift in mood. Ms. Emily continued, each peek-a-boo accompanied by an even sillier face than the last. Seeing a slight curve of Kylie's lips, Ms. Emily seized the moment. "There's a hint of a smile! But I think we can do better than that." Swiftly, her fingers danced along Kylie's sides, eliciting a startled giggle from the girl. "Tickle, tickle, tickle!" Ms. Emily chanted, her voice dripping with playful condescension. Kylie's protests and laughter melded together as she squirmed beneath Ms. Emily's relentless fingers. Drawing her face close to Kylie's stomach, Ms. Emily suddenly blew a loud raspberry, making a ridiculous sound. Kylie's laughter echoed in the room, genuine and free. "There's the big smile we wanted," Ms. Emily said, pulling back and looking smug. "See? There's always a way to turn a frown upside down." Kylie, still catching her breath from laughing, looked at Ms. Emily with a mix of gratitude and exasperation. "Thank you," she murmured, "I think." "There we go," Ms. Emily smirked, continuing her tickling assault. "Can't have our big baby looking so glum, can we?" Lifting Kylie from the table, Ms. Emily gave her a gentle pat on the back. "Now, let's get you back out there, shall we? No more tears, okay?" Kylie nodded, her spirit somewhat lifted, but the weight of the day still pressing on her shoulders. As they moved back outside, she couldn't help but steal a quick glance at Ms. Emily, appreciating the brief moment of genuine kindness in the midst of their bizarre dynamic. Once back outside, Kylie was directed towards the sandbox. "You can play here," Ms. Emily said, her voice devoid of warmth. "I don't think you can make much of a mess with sand." Kylie's mindlessly began to move some toys around in the box as she watched Emily move back toward the swings to wipe up the mess. LUNCHTIME The daycare center was abuzz with the cheerful chatter of children as lunchtime approached. Tables were set, plates filled with a delightful assortment of foods that appealed to all ages. Kylie was led to a table with children her own age but was stopped by Ms. Daisy, who handed her a tray separate from the others. "Here you go, sweetie," Ms. Daisy said, her voice tinged with feigned concern. "I've made sure to include some baby food just for you, since your mom insists." Kylie's face turned beet red as she took the tray. Among the regular meal items lay a small jar of baby food and a colorful plastic spoon. The other children glanced at her tray, their eyes widening, some of them snickering. She picked at her food, the baby food jar an unwanted reminder of her current predicament. The other children carried on with their meals, occasionally casting curious glances in her direction. Kylie wished she could just vanish, to be free from the prying eyes and the unspoken judgments. Eventually, Ms. Emily came over, her expression a mixture of annoyance and sympathy. "Come on, Kylie, you need to eat your baby food too. It's good for you." Kylie's cheeks flushed even deeper as Ms. Emily scooped up a spoonful of the mushy substance and held it to her lips. She wanted to refuse, to shout that she was not a baby, but the words were stuck in her throat. Instead, she opened her mouth, letting Ms. Emily feed her. "There, that's not so bad, is it?" Ms. Emily said, though her eyes betrayed her reluctance. Kylie could only nod, tears of humiliation welling in her eyes. She felt trapped, unable to escape the demeaning treatment, yet powerless to change it. Lunchtime finally ended, a welcome respite for Kylie. The next activity was storytime, a beloved tradition at the daycare center. The children gathered around as Ms. Daisy took her seat, a colorful picture book in hand. "Today, we're going to read a lovely story about a little duckling," Ms. Daisy announced, her eyes twinkling. "And I think Kylie here should help us with the quacking sounds. What do you say, Kylie?" The room filled with giggles as Kylie's face turned an even deeper shade of red. She wanted to refuse, to say no, but the expectant eyes of Ms. Daisy and the amused smiles of the other children were too much to bear. "Quack, quack," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "Louder, Kylie! You can do better than that!" Ms. Daisy encouraged, her voice filled with false cheer. "Quack, quack!" Kylie repeated, louder this time, each word a stab at her dignity. The story continued, with Kylie providing the quacking sounds at Ms. Daisy's prompting. The other children joined in, laughing and clapping, but for Kylie, it was a painful exercise in humiliation. Once the story ended, it was time for the afternoon nap. The younger children were settled into their cribs, while the older ones spread out on mats. Kylie, however, was led to the playpen by Ms. Emily. "We've prepared a special place for you," Ms. Emily said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Since the cribs are too small, and you're still not a big girl." Kylie climbed into the playpen, her heart heavy. She was given a baby blanket and a soft plush toy. The playpen's bars seemed to mock her, a physical manifestation of her imprisonment in this infantile role. Ms. Daisy approached, a bottle in hand. "Your mom left specific instructions for a bottle before your nap," she said, her tone sweet but laced with condescension. "I think Ms. Emily should do the honors." Ms. Emily took the bottle, her face betraying her frustration. She sat beside the playpen, holding the bottle to Kylie's lips. Kylie could see the other children watching, their eyes filled with curiosity and amusement. She sucked on the bottle, tears streaming down her face, each gulp a reminder of her shame. Ms. Emily's hand was gentle, but her eyes were cold, her mind clearly elsewhere. Finally, the bottle was empty, and Kylie was left to settle into her nap. The onesie she had been changed into was snug and childish, a symbol of her forced regression. As sleep overtook her, Kylie's mind swirled with conflicting emotions. Anger, shame, humiliation – they all mingled, leaving her feeling lost and alone. The events of the day played over and over in her mind, a relentless reminder of her current reality. Kylie's peaceful slumber was shattered by a sudden, unwelcome sensation. A rumbly tummy, an urgent pressure building within her. Her eyes snapped open, and she found herself disoriented, still within the confines of the playpen, the soft lullabies playing overhead. Panic and realization set in simultaneously. She was trapped, and her body was betraying her, demanding release. Her mind raced, her thoughts a frantic whirl of confusion and fear. "No, no, no," she whispered to herself, clenching her fists. "I can't. Not here, not now." But her body would not listen, the pressure growing, the discomfort mounting. She squirmed, trying to find a position that would alleviate the sensation, but it only grew worse. She glanced around, hoping, praying that no one would notice. The other children were still sleeping, their faces peaceful, their breaths steady. Ms. Emily was nowhere to be seen, probably tending to other duties. Kylie's heart pounded in her chest, each beat echoing the relentless push of her body. She fought it, her entire being focused on resisting, on holding back. But it was a losing battle, a struggle she could not win. Tears welled in her eyes as she realized the inevitability of her situation. She had to let go, had to give in. But the shame, the humiliation, it was too much to bear. She moved into a squatted position, her face contorted in a mix of concentration and despair. Her inner monologue was a constant stream of self-reassurances and desperate pleas. "It's okay, it's okay," she told herself, her voice trembling. "No one will know. I'll be quiet. It'll be over soon." The pressure reached its peak, and with a soft grunt, she let go. The sensation was immediate and overwhelming, the messy diaper expanding, the uncomfortable feeling spreading. She whimpered, her entire body shuddering. The relief was overshadowed by the embarrassment, the realization that she had just messed herself like a baby, in full view of anyone who might look. She sat back down into her mess, the onesie tightening, the diaper struggling to contain its contents. And then, the worst happened. A blowout, the mess escaping the confines of the diaper, spreading within the onesie. Her breath caught in her throat, a sob escaping her lips. She had never felt so humiliated, so utterly defeated. The door creaked open, and Ms. Emily's voice broke the silence. "Alright, little ones, time to wake up from your naps." Kylie's heart stopped, the terror of discovery washing over her. She looked up, her eyes wide, her face pale. Ms. Emily's eyes met hers, and then, the realization. Her face twisted in slight disgust, her voice rising in slight playful frustration "Kylie…. Did you make a poopy diaper?” She said quite loudly in a matter of fact way Kylie could only whimper, tears streaming down her face, her body frozen in place. "Oh, you poor thing," Ms. Emily said, her voice dripping with condescension. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up." The other children were stirring now, their curious eyes turning to Kylie, their noses wrinkling at the smell. Ms. Emily's hands were firm but gentle as she guided Kylie from the playpen, her face a mask of controlled annoyance. "I can't believe how many diapers this girl is going through” she muttered, more to herself than to Kylie as she took her to the changing table…

I have been dating my gorgeous girlfriend for just over 3 months and I’d like to share my experience. Early on I was determined to tell her about my desire to wear a nappy as it makes me feel relaxed and safe and I wanted to give her the opportunity to walk away if she wasn’t comfortable with this side of me. I’ll tackle my journey so far in 4 parts. 1. Revealing this part of me honestly 2. Her initial response 3. Where we are now Here goes…. 1. Revealing my baby / little side This was by far the hardest thing I have ever undertaken, telling someone you really care for that you are (in some peoples eyes) very odd. It was one evening after she had told me about some of the turbulence that she had experienced in her own past. What she told me made me want her even more (not age play or fetish related) so after listening to her story I felt I just had to be fully transparent with her regarding my own issues. (All true) I don’t wet every night but it’s not too often that I wake up dry. As with most people, I had lived with a feeling of shame about this part of me but I knew that if we were to have a chance together I would have to tell her everything. The conversation started by me explaining about my bed wetting, how I deal with it (by wearing a nappy) and how it made me feel (relaxed, safe and yes, also quite excited) As a foot note, whilst having therapy for an unrelated issue my bed wetting and nappy wearing came out in the open and the therapist who was amazing helped me to realise that I wasn’t evil or a freak for the way I was. As with most accounts I’ve read, I didn’t do the best job in explaining as there was still confusion in my own understanding of this part of me. However because of my therapy I was able to explain how as a bed wetting child I wore nappies for the most part until the age of 14 and yes, I derived comfort and pleasure from wearing a nappy to bed. I think that I even had my first orgasm whilst wearing a nappy and I definitely became aroused at bedtime so the sexual link was there early on. Once I had explained as much as I could I sat in front of her waiting for her response / reaction. 2. Her response I have to say that I was floored by her response (which has taken me some time to fully believe) when she just held me and more or less said “so what” My revelation made no difference in her eyes, she still thought the world of me and my expose hadn’t changed that. Wow!! I didn’t expect her unconditional acceptance of my revelation but then all I really had to go on was what I’ve read from other people in a similar situation to mine. From that moment on I have worn a nappy to bed with her on many occasions. Sometimes I put it on myself and sometimes she has done the honours (you can guess which I prefer!!) I can say from the bottom of my heart that this woman has made me more whole than I could have ever imagined I’d feel. 3. Where we are now To start with I’m enjoying spending time with an amazing woman first and foremost. Our relationship is so strong that I still pinch myself to make sure I’m not dreaming!! As far as it relates to this post, I’m just so happy that she is accepting of all of me. How the relationship develops is anyone’s guess but it couldn’t be built on stronger foundations of honesty and openness towards each other and on that basis I am happily confident that we have as good a chance as any couple in having an amazing life together. Yes, I’d love to be nurtured and babied as much as she feels comfortable with. We even looked for nappies online together which felt surreal yet thrilling. I’d love to be bathed, dressed, fed, changed and all the other things that contributors have mentioned in various posts I’ve read on here. Most importantly however is that I want to make sure that I can make this love of mine as happy as she has certainly made me. I had never before felt I could be open with a loved one because of this part of me but she has proved me wrong in so many ways. So thank you my gorgeous girl (you know who you are) and I love you so so much Xxx

$ sudo apt-get install IncontinenceMachine Installing IncontinenceMachine... Done! $ sudo IncontinenceMachine run Setting up your incontinence... First, let’s decide the severity for urinary incontinence: "Total incontinence" Next determine the primary type of urinary incontinence: "Nonstop leaky faucet" Very good! How much awareness do you want to have? "Vauge awareness" What about nights? "Heavy wetting, frequent pee dreams" Do you want your incontinence to be reversible or permanent? Permanent Do you wish to have bowel incontinence as well? "Total bowel incontinence" Finally, would you like to add toilet confusion, thus impossible to use a toilet? Yes Thank you using this setup wizard, good day! $

How did I meet her? Online is the answer. Just a normal dating site. I had no expectations of meeting someone special but she and I clicked the first time we spoke. I didn’t speak about my baby side at first as that was not the reason I went on the site. Once I felt that we may get serious I resolved to tell her about this part of me. And it is only a part of me. I find her very attractive and am proud to have her on my arm when we are out together. I am a very lucky man / boyfriend / baby Cheers to you too

Hey! I thought that the idea that Layla should have to take the test came from you. I’m just happy that I found a way to tie that request into the plot. There are points I want to make with the story, and I think I might make it work. Yeah. I like it, too. This story is all about dogma and terminology. Maturosis is an amazing idea. The concept of plateaus and development gives Amazons the scientific proof that Littles need this kind of overzealous care. There is a system to their control, and I love the confusing aspect of whether Maturosis is real or is it manifested by Amazons. I hope that I can do it enough justice so others copy it. Amazons need to be put in their place, too. Beckie is certainly ‘diaper curious’. Let’s see how Dr. Mira helps her work through those issues. The dynamic between Debbie the stepmom and Mira the scientist isn’t going to change. Immaturosis is a condition that only affects younger Amazons (teens and twenties), and it doesn’t effect those who are older like Debbie. Beckie is confused about her feelings for Kaleb. Yes, he’s half-Little, but he’s also half-Big. He’s almost dating material, he’s almost diaper material, maybe she kind find a way for him to be both. Dr. Mira is just going to observe for another chapter. She already has plans for our sweet couple. And yes, he is drawn to her by forces beyond his control. Uh-oh. I don’t want to start trouble in paradise. Beckie was supposed to be a minor character, but her diaper based libido put her more into the plot. She may just be Kaleb’s happy ending in more than one way. ———- It took awhile to get back to the website this time around. Unfortunately, I think that’s going to be the new norm for me. There’s just less time for me to write these days, and I don’t think that’s going to change in the future. I wanted to write a new chapter every week, but it’s starting to look like every two to three weeks. I’m writing when I can, and I’m not even spell checking or grammar checking anymore, so it may be rougher around the edges for the sake of time. Anyways, thanks for reading! ——— Recessive 15 Surrender doesn’t exactly mean losing. Sometimes, it means living to fight again another day. This kind of thinking led to Kaleb’s distorted and pervasive world view. He certainly thought about views as the giant pair of breasts were heading his way. They were all he could see, and as they rubbed against his face, they were all he could feel. Still. No surrender. All of his life, he chose to kick the can down the road, putting off the inevitable diaper one day at a time. There were daily battles, some hard fought wins, others more padded losses. They’d say that he really ‘craved’ diapers, that his misbehavior was due to an ‘fixation’, and a lack of a mommy figure in his life. Amazon psychologists would give this half-in/half-out approach a name: Diaper Curious. If Maturosis was an error of the brain, a degenerative condition that led the body backwards instead of forwards, then Diaper Curious was the flame that lured the moth. In his defense, diapers ‘were’ curious things. Especially oversized ones. The wearable potties said so much about the baby, or the mommy, or whatever was fashionable or on sale at the time. It didn’t matter whether the diaper was extra thick for night time dryness, or a trainer-thin slip-on for potty training, or terry cloth with a pin for old time’s sake, or girly pink or little boy blue or covered in pastel designs with cars and trains and other baby things. The diaper defined the baby, Amazon marketing had told him that much. Kaleb had seen the commercials on the television, in cutesy internet ads, in print and on paper, and heard their head-spamming jingles on the radio. Whenever and wherever, he always seemed to notice them. He would look past the person he was talking with to see an oversized ad in the background. He'd perk his ears at the commercials on the television. He'd catch himself locked onto the flashing banners on various websites. Of course, he'd write it all off as just something silly about his personality. Kaleb could blame it on his attention deficit, or his experience of being forced into the cheapest of diaper brands at school, or being threatened with the softest of paddings at the whims of practically every Amazon adult in his life. But maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with Maturosis. Or being Diaper Curious. However, he’d never had a deep seated fascination of breasts like some of his classmates. His Big buddies would talk about women in three ways; their favorite involved their female classmates’ chests. So many words, and so many phrases, all to say the same thing: 'The bigger, the better'. That was just the Bigs, the smaller varieties were even worse. The freaking Littles would drop their jaws at the sight of top heavy Bigs, while he’d just laugh at the irony. They’d dive head first into that D-cup trap, it was in their nature to love every minute of their babyhood. And now that these huge breasts were in his face, he was beginning to see their appeal. That's what he thought about as his world slowed. The line of thinking had him actually considering an unconditional surrender. Maybe he wasn’t surrendering to the diaper, or the breasts, or the sensations, or the ceiling fan. Maybe he was surrendering to himself. Maybe Maturosis was offering him a bargain; give up potty privileges and you can get access to breasts, which seemed like a good deal — for just this one time. Surrender had a soft lure, and a tender hook. Yes. Yes. That’s right. The only way to 'get out' was to 'give in'. Perhaps victory will come at a later time maybe with better odds of success. Which makes surrender a perfectly viable strategy -- illogically. That logic stuff flew out the window around the same time Callie did. He had to considerate of his surroundings, he was lap-deep on a busty Amazon, and she was rapidly pulling herself free for him... No. He wasn't planning on surrendering, at least not right now. Maybe later, when it became more logical. Beckie tightened her grip around the back of his head. He pulled away with as much force as he could muster, and he was able to gain some distance as he pushed and pulled his upper half away from the Amazon. She was stronger. She was fighting, too. And with a desperate strength he wasn't used to. Truth be told, Kaleb was no Little. The Little guys didn't have the size, or the strength, or the willpower, to keep Beckie away. They would be helpless, and Kaleb wasn’t helpless. Not yet, at least. It took all he had to calm himself as she revealed the bountiful breasts smuggled in the cups her cute pink bra. With the same hand she used to pull up her T-shirt, she lowered the bra coverage of her left breast, casually revealing every bit of nipple. Beckie wasn't dripping milk like a leaky tap, or pushing it free like a faucet. In fact, it didn't appear that she was lactating at all. That doesn’t mean he couldn’t feel that she was physically willing and able. Her pink and puffy nipple was a bit more perky and thicker than he imagined. There was an inviting quality to its biological flushness, as her goose-pimples encircled the nipple, and her pale skin showed more color than before, like a dab of blush from a circular sponge. Beckie took a moment before she freed ‘the girls’. First it was her left breast, bountiful and overflowing, round and soft, and wonderfully pressing against his face. Then she freed her right, giving him equal access to her bosom. But true to form, Kaleb was having none of it. He used all of his power to resist the allure of her nudity. His senses picked up on every bit of his confusion, and her yearning. Beckie whispered to him, her voice husky and wanting, and yanking him free from his own fixations with a ragged breath. "Come on, Kay." No. No. No. That word was always so easy to say, but it wasn't leaving his lips. Kaleb knew as soon as he opened up to speak, a nipple would shoved between his lips. Then, what? Surrender? "Come on," she urged again, "you need to bond." Bond? That's the last thing in the world that he wanted, or needed. He didn't want to 'bond', he wanted to break free. With a quick jerk, Kaleb shook the hand grip from behind his neck. He closed his eyes to the enticing nipple and wiggled free from her firm grip around his back. Only to be surprised by the return of her hand and its renewed fervor, this was going to happen on her schedule, and not his. "Open up, sweetie." Beckie wasn't letting squirm out of this one so easily. “Come on, it’s good for you.” The Amazon was talking about his mouth. If he could control one part of his body, when all seemed lost and gone to the dumps, it was his mouth. Open and closed. Easy enough. If Maturosis had plans on destroying his brain, he couldn’t fight it, and he’d have to manage with toddler thoughts. If Maturosis planned on pulling the strength from his arms and legs, he’d learn how to crawl from place to place. If this damn disorder took away his toileting, he’d learn how to get along in diapers. But his mouth was his mouth, and his mantra would be an easy one. Keep it closed. Simple. Stupid. Easy to do. Almost as easy as making it to the toilet on time. Wait. Beckie pressed his face into her breast, slamming him boob-to-cheek a couple of times as they caught as quietly as they could. She managed to get him to a spot where he couldn’t wriggle away, clutching him tightly behind the neck and in the crook of her elbow, effectively turning herself into the most form fitting cradle in the world. “Alright, Kay,” Beckie chastised as she held him tighter. “I didn’t want to be the bad guy…” To his horror, Kaleb watched her form a pair of pinchers with their index and thumb that went straight for his nose. Like chopsticks of pain and suffering, they came for his face and he was unable to move away. “Open up, little one.” The tactile strength of the Amazons was notorious; its what kept the 'Little Proof' tapes on the diaper, the 'Little Proof' zipped on the footies, and the 'Little Proof' snapped on the onesies. Baby products may have been advertised as 'Little Proof', but it was all about the finger-strength of the Amazons, and Beckie was no different. Kaleb found that out as her pinchers reached his nose, squeezing so hard that he yelped in pain. Kaleb squealed, "Ah!" Then he was immediately muffled by a mouthful of Beckie breast, which tasted like soap and skin, and something else. There was a hint of candy flavor perfume that played tricks with his taste buds, and it’s sticky sweetness came with electric excitement and childish shame. "OH yes!" Beckie gasped as his mouth made contact. "Now, suck. Sweetie. Just suck." Kaleb shook his head and groaned, with made her breast vibrate in his mouth. Okay. It was in his mouth. No big deal. He wasn’t nursing. One thing he wasn’t going to was ‘suck’, he’d done enough ‘sucking’ all ‘sucking’ weekend. Yes, a boob was in his mouth, but he wasn’t going to suck. It was the Little things. “Let’s get that mouth to work,” Beckie softly chided as she rubbed the sides of his cheeks. “Your bottom is probably all backed up, this will help loosen things, and that diaper of yours is as dry as a bone.” As if by second nature, her cradling hand floated its way between his legs, giving the padding between his legs a good squeeze. She brought her fingers together into somewhat off cup, using her palm to caress the front side bulge. Her ‘cup’ hand did more than check his dry diaper, it lingered and caressed. It willfully hung around and encouraged him with every feather-like touch. Beckie could be mighty persuasive with her hand around his crotch. Kaleb could feel the heat rise in his face and in his diaper. The thirsty padding wrapped around him like a form fitting pillow. It felt too good to argue against, like it had the right idea, and Kaleb was the one clutching at straws to come up with an argument. Like why not let her touch him? If it felt good, so it couldn’t be bad. Illogical. Or logical. Either way, he found himself opening his hips, and spreading his thighs wider to give her more access. He also found himself doing more than just avoiding the nipple in his mouth. What harm could come if he gave it a little suckle? Beckie was doing her best to give him something nice, why shouldn’t he give something back in return? Perfectly illogical. “That’s it, Kay.” Beckie massaged his crotch with the most wonderful touch. “This is how you bond with a mommy. The textbook says so in chapter eighteen: all about mommies.” Instead of battling her chest with his hands, he found them wrapping around the boob in his mouth. One in a tightly balled fist, the other an open palm resting against her warm chest. Both hands pressed into her flesh, grabbing and pulling, as his mouth only did what was natural. His lips pursed around her nipple, which was noticeably more aroused and ready — like it knew exactly what Kaleb wanted and need, so he wanted and kneaded the breast in return. Compulsion is as powerful a drug as any, capable of pulling away even the strongest of of defenses. So why not surrender? It was only a breast. Not a bottle. Not a pacifier. All organic and fit perfectly between his pursed lips. Shoot, it was already in his mouth and he was latched and ready to go. He’d save his energy to fight the tougher fights, the ones involving soiling Mr. Teddy Bear diaper. His mind was already made up as Beckie starting stroking him through his diaper. She could feel his walls beginning to come down. “There we go, baby. Just like with the pacifier.” And Kaleb sucked — just like with the pacifier. He didn’t know what to expect as he took a long drag. There wasn't any liquid, the lack of milk was beyond his basic understanding of Amazon anatomy, maybe he wasn't 'pulling' hard enough with his mouth. At the same time, he knew he shouldn’t use his teeth; because he didn’t want to hurt Beckie, not when she was making him feel so, so good. Every bit of her touch felt like an overheated charge, sparks a-flying with every movement, his need pulsing between his legs with every heartbeat. Kaleb moaned into her breast, which made her hand move faster and his diaper was soon rustling against his bare thighs and naked belly. Electricity shot through him as he rode the carousel of pleasure. He rocked his hips up and down to rhythm of her pressing hand. He was hard. He was breathing heavy. Kaleb was about to let loose in his diaper, and he didn’t even think twice about it. Was this the dreaded ‘surrender’ he’d fought his entire life? If it was. Sign him up. Surrender felt like the first bite of a chocolate cake, and it came without calories or consequences. Illogically, of course. There was a 'naughtiness' deep within this act, and even while under the influence of Maturosis, Kaleb tried not to pass judgement on himself and let the good feelings flow. And they were certainly flowing, pleasure poured out the crotch of his diaper, blinding him from any kind of reflection. He knew there would be regrets later, but the moment took him away by storm. “Oh, yes. Oh, yes.” Beckie pressed herself against him. She was just as out of control as Kaleb. “This feels so freaking good, so don’t you dare stop!” Kaleb wasn’t planning on stopping until he popped. He wasn’t in the right place mentally, but who cared? Maturosis does what Maturosis does, and he wasn’t about to argue with biology and genealogy and other natural selection thingies. There was boob in the mouth and all he had to do was suck. “Don’t stop!” Beckie urged as she kept her hand on his diaper. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop!” Her voice was reaching a crescendo, which meant only one thing. Someone he knew was about to get more damp in the panties, her labored breathing and excited squeals told him that much. He bucked into her cupped hand and she pressed her breasts into his face. They formed some kind of babyish 'ying and yang'. A circular rendition of a power play that went on and on, spinning as mommy nurtured baby and baby pleasured mommy, going round and round, almost like a ceiling fan. Yes. Round and round they went. Soft grunts. Heavy pets. His surrender let all of his anxieties out the window; like Callie the escaping Little, they were long gone and a thing of the past. For once, Kaleb wasn't worried about how others saw him. Mostly because they couldn't. Under the shade of the plastic pants, beneath the end table with an obscuring lap shade, they quietly connected just out of plain sight. This was almost surreal, Kaleb heard his stepmom finish up Charlotte's change, her chipper voice cutting through the mostly quiet room as she dsecribed to the teen Amazon how she was clean, sweet smelling, and ready to play. Then she wrapped up the spent diaper in plastic bag, loud and crinkling, 'whewing' away like a runaway train. "Hey, Beckie?" Debbie called out from the real world in the living room. The two of them immediately froze. Kaleb mid-thrust and mid-suck, and Beckie coiled her arms around him, freezing Kaleb in place. They were going to be totally caught now, what in the world was he thinking? Beckie responded with a clear inquisitive, "Yes?" "Could you be a doll and open up the window?" Debbie ask as she stood up from the ground. "We need to freshen up the room from Charlotte's stinky diaper." His stepmom's face rose just above the canopy, over the horizon that kept them hidden from view, and now she could see the two of them in suedo-nursing flagrante. This was going to be 100%, totally bad. When she caught onto the goings-on, Debbie's face immediately soured. "What are the two of you doing back there?" Caught! And twice in one day! This time was different, however. Kaleb could've hidden back in the corner forever. Unfortunately, the 'regrets' were beginning to tally in his mind, as this awkward moment provided the kind of reflection of a pristine lake beneath snow capped mountains. The feeling 100% sucked, even more than he did just moments before. "Um..." Beckie flipped Kaleb around and gave his butt another sniff. "I thought he was stinky, since he was hiding back here and staying really quiet, and you all know what that means. The textbook explains that when Littles seek quiet, they're usually looking for a chance to pop a squat." "Pop a squat?" His stepmom guffawed. "I'm not so sure if that's textbook talk." "Oh, that's not in the textbook," Beckie said with a cheeky grin. "That's all mommy talk, the kind we use when we're trying to help our sweet Kay adjust to his condition." "That's nice." Debbie nodded along as she lifted the plastic bag with the crumpled spent diaper. "How is his condition? Of his diaper, I mean." At that note, Beckie lifted him from beneath his armpits, standing Kaleb up on the carpet. His hands shot over the front of his diaper, since there was pretty hard 'evidence' of his good time poking through the face of a smiling Teddy on his front padding. With a pair of fingers, Beckie pulled out the waistband of his level two Detector-protector. Then she peered down the his naked backside for a moment, lingering longer than she should have, since she already knew the answer to her question. Kaleb halfway participated in the ruse. Mostly because he was frozen 'stiff'. However, as the moment drug on and on, he began to wonder why Beckie was taking her sweet time back there. Since the room sat on egg shells waiting for the news on his clean diaper. "I'm not stinky," he defended himself louder and more petulant than he wanted. "It was all Charlotte." "Are you sure?" Debbie side eyed him. "Big boys don't lie about their diapers." Kaleb scrunched his face. "I don't poop my pants." His stepmom only chuckled. "You're not wearing pants, sweetie." "All clean," Beckie killed the mystery. "It's so good that you went behind the couch to check on him," Dr. Mira said as she handled one of the Cushioning test's screens. "You never know what the little ones might put in their mouths." The seemingly ever-omniscient doctor gave the two of them a knowing look, painting an even darker shade of rosy blush on both of their cheeks. Kaleb was quick to face the corner, tapping at the crotchside of his diaper, trying to bang his boner back into flacid submission. Control. This was all about control. Kaleb needed to get his 'controls' in order. He needed to control his weiner, control his emotions, control his 'suckling', and he needed to control his potty functions. This day downward spiraled from the moment he woke up from his bed, and he needed to put everything back in order. But where would he begin? "Kaleb, honey.” Dr. Mira peered at him over her soul-scoping glasses. "I would like for you to come sit next to me." He immediately felt the dangerous undertones of that simple request. "Do I have to?" "No." Mira shook her head. "You don't have to do anything you don't want." "Then I'll stay right here," he replied, then he crossed his arms in retaliation. "I like the corner, it’s nice and safe.” "I'd bet that you do," Mira said with a laugh. "Especially when you have company." Insinuation. Plain and simple. Debbie gave him a discerning look. "Kay-Kay, I think you should go sit next to Dr. Mira." His hands shot up in the air. "Why?" "I think you would benefit with having a nice talk with her," answered his stepmother. "She is a specialist in the field of Maturosis. Maybe you can convince her that you don't have Maturosis, try to explain how this is all some big mistake. You owe yourself that much." "I do?" Kaleb felt the warm hug of optimism. “You’ll let me talk my way out of this?” It all sounded too good to be true. If he could convince the scientist that this was all some Big homework gone wrong, Layla would be the one in trouble. This was finally some good news, but he was still pretty wary. Especially since Mira didn’t seem like the those to change her mind about anything. “Of course you can,” Dr. Mira offered a space to sit with a pat on the couch cushion beside her. "We can have a good talk once we send the girls on their secret, special mission." He asked, "What secret, special mission?" “Come here so I can tell you.” Mira compelled him with a curling finger as he made a few steps towards the doctor on the couch. Just like that, Kaleb found himself making his way to the sitting scientist, drawn to her like she was a solution to his problem. Maybe his stepmom was right, a good conversation could set things straight. He'd say his piece, and she would laugh, and then he would be well on his way out of this weekend. A growing Tweener could only hope, right? Dr. Mira seemed to look at him and through him as he approached, eyeing the diaper at his waist, his halfway waddling gait, and she had a special disdain for his black t-shirt. Something told him that he'd have to have a wardrobe change by the time she was done with him. As he sat on the couch, Kaleb folded his arms together, sliding his palms between his thighs as a perfect example of placid submission. If Mira oozed confidence, Kaleb oozed surrender. He didn't dare look at her and her research, only at the ceiling fan above. No one had turned on the damn thing in all of this time. “So,” he started into his question. “What’s the secret?” “If we told you,” replied Mira. “It wouldn’t be a secret.” “Hey!” Kaleb glared at her. “You tricked me.” Dr. Mira only ruffled his hair, a reminder of who he now belonged to on this sofa. At least he got to sit on the furniture again, that was a plus. “You’re cute when you’re angry,” she said as she wagged a finger in his face. “But don’t get too fussy, we wouldn’t want to get a spanking.” No. He didn’t want that. Not at all. "Alright..." Beckie awkwardly chuckled as she side-stepped to the windows. "About them windows, what do I need to do to open them?" "There's a brass lever at the base of the pane." Debbie made a little turning motion with her hand. "You turn it counter clockwise and you'll have yourself an open window." Beckie followed her orders and worked on the window, but that baby wasn't budging. She used one hand, then brought over the other, yanking at the crank with all of her might. "You might have to use a little elbow grease," offered Debbie. "The darn thing is more stubborn than Kaleb.” Yeah, even sitting next to Dr. Mira still meant ‘catching strays’. “I’m not that stubborn,” he argued. “Of course you’re not,” said Mira at his side, she was starting to get uncomfortably ‘touchy-feelie’ with him. “You’re just learning about yourself, don’t be so sensitive to others. Childish sensitivity is a symptom of Maturosis. Your body is going through so many changes, and everything feels raw and sensitive. Doesn’t it?” Kale thought for a moment. “I guess.” “I know you don’t truly understand Maturosis, but even you’d have to admit that you’re noticing things about yourself,” continued Mira. “Things that others had said, things that were too sensitive to hear. The truth normally hurts, but we must be receptive to hear what we need to hear. Do you know about ‘cravings’ and ‘fixations’? Did you sister explain those to you?” Kaleb scrunched his face again. Layla said nothing about those things. “Can we just please stop talking about all of this? It’s giving me a headache.” Dr. Mira rubbed at his bare thigh, her hands felt warm against his cold skin. “All of this will happen in due time,” she said softly. “Not mine. Not your stepmom. It’s all about you and Maturosis, so you’ll be willing to ‘push’ when you’re ready.” He raised an eyebrow. “Push?” Giving him a sense that she knew something he didn’t know, Dr. Mira warmly smiled and rubbed her hand up and down his leg in a purely scientific and platonic way. She lowered her lips to his ear, her minty breath and sudden proximity made the hairs on his neck stiffen straight. “When the time comes… you’ll need to show me that you’re ready to use your diaper. For number one….” Dr. Mira let her whisper echo for a long torturous moment. “And you’ll learn to ‘push’ out a number two. Don’t worry, I’ll help you for other ways to use your diaper. We will ease you into everything. We don’t want you falling down to another plateau, do we?” “No….” He suddenly felt so cold and alone. “We don’t want that.” Debbie watched the two of them interact as she carried the stinky diaper to the smell-sealed trash can in the kitchen. It shouldn’t have surprised him that even their garbage can was prepared for Little visitors and their Little presents. He heard the trash can lid fall back into place, before his stepmom returned to the living room with her hands on her hips. “Are we opening the window or what?” Beckie shook her head. “I can’t move this freaking thing!” “That’s because you’re doing it wrong." All eyes went to Layla who stood at the edge of the living room, where the beige carpet met the hallway in a seamless transition. She wore the same loose fitting shirt, but her black shorts much bigger, going almost to the knees. They did a decent job of hiding her puffy level one DP. However, Kaleb could see the elastic waistline of the pull-up sneak out of the concealing shorts. It was probably worse at the butt, Kaleb didn’t make it a habit to stare at his stepsister’s rear end. The room remained quiet as she made her way to the windows, pushing her friend aside before ratcheting the glass pane free from the window frame. There was totally a tiny bulge at Layla’s butt. Hilarious. “It’s so easy…” Layla growled at her friend. “I don’t know why you’re not the Little helper. You’re the one that’s more Diaper Curious than I am.” Beckie grabbed the back of Layla's shorts and gave the elastic a nice pull and a hard snap. "Nice pull-up, Lay. Did you steal it from Callie?” Dear old stepsister didn't like that kind of insinuation. Not at all. "Well, Beckie." Layla gathered herself as she smoothed over her shorts. "Maybe you can end up in something just as nice. Miss I-get-turned-on-by-diapers. Why don't we go over his arousal meter while you were changing his diaper... or showing him how to rub one out in his pamper? I'd bet Dr. Mira would really like to get that into her Immaturosis research." Beckie scowled at her friend. "You little...." "Now, Now." Dr. Mira raised both palms up like she was softly stopping traffic with a feathered touch, putting a stop to the girl’s verbal tussle. "I'll have you know that Beckie will be helping me, since I'm well aware of certain indiscretions. As for you, I need you and your mother to run some errands. You’re going to need to do some clothes shopping, pick out some outfits for your younger brother, it will give you a chance to reveal your feelings about him. I think your mother wants to take you to a hairdresser, and we may want to escalate both wardrobes. I suggest the store “Just Like my Little”. You getting this all down, Debbie?” “Yes, ma’am.” Stepmom hesitated before asking. “But what about what we already got?” “I have plans for those outfits — don’t worry, it’ll all come out of my expenses, just like your stipend. It’s just more shopping for Layla, think of what she needs to battle through and make it cute for your princess. Also, I want her to pick some outfits out for Kaleb. Keeping in mind the various levels of plateaus. We don’t know how far he may fall before the weekend is over. We might have a newborn here.” “Wait a second,” Layla interjected. “What is going on with our wardrobes?” Dr. Mira grabbed Kaleb by chest cloth of the jet black tee, shaking him around as if he was exhibit A in fashion court. Despite her calm demeanor, Dr. Mira had quite the angry grip, with experienced hands that knew their way around an obstinate Little, or an out of place Betweener. Kaleb just let himself be rocked from side to side like a ragdoll. “Alright, Layla.” Dr. Mira clenched her teeth at his stepsister just as hard as she clenched his shirt. “You claim that you’ve done your research, but do you recall color theory and its impact on Maturosis?” Layla appeared to be taken off guard by Mira’s question. Which was weird, because it wasn’t a tough question. Still, his stepsis began stumbling back a step, trying to escape from the center of attention and all the cold stares that it entailed. “I know color theory, but he dressed himself! I would have picked out something different, but we were busy putting together our notes for Escalation notation.” “Dressed himself?” Mira glared at his stepsister with the heat of a thousand suns. “You put him in Escalation and you still let him dress himself? I’d like to see where that strategy is discussed in your textbook, because I certainly didn't write it." Layla stammered, "I can explain.." "No, you can't." Mira wouldn't let her off the hook so easily. "That's the problem with your generation. You're so busy talking that you never find the time to listen. If you want an explanation, you have to go to the active scientist in the room. You know, the one with thousands of hours of research under her belt. You knew that you weren't handling his Cushioning test correctly, and yet you still try to defend your actions as if it’s based on fact. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, young lady." Layla bit at her lip and looked to her mother for help, but she only got a scowl and short shake of the head. Kaleb then followed her eyes to Charlotte who was frozen stiff on the changing pad pretending not to exist. Then to Beckie who only stepped away into the 'nursing corner'. His stepsister was left to fend for herself, so much for that patented cheerleader team spirit. "I knew that he needed to wear a pastel," Layla explained as her gaze never left the floor. "I know color theory, I just didn't want to upset him further. He just had a potty accident, and I didn't want him to fall into another plateau." "He’s rapidly deteriorating because you’re not addressing his basic needs," replied Dr. Mira, she turned to Kaleb and pinched at his blushing cheek. "Babies crave being cute. They love a thick diaper, the feeling of a caretaker’s smile. They fixate on pastel colors, smiles, shapes and feels. This shirt doesn’t cut it.” “What do you want me to say?” Layla shrugged. “I’m sorry?” “You should be sorry about the possibilities that you’re passing up. Just think about how cute and happy he'd be in a nice baby blue, or a soft teal, or a masculine pink. There are so many canary covered shortalls or purple dinosaur onesies. He'd make a cute little bear with a baby bear shirt and a baby bear diaper..." Layla looked lost. “I know, but I…” Debbie gave her daughter a dirty look. "I can't believe you, Lay-Lay." “What mom?” Debbie let her daughter have it, grabbing the torch from their celebrity scientist. “You’re not helping Kay feel cute and welcome in his new role. Listen. I don’t know all of that science stuff like you do, but I know Littles and babies, and they love that kind of attention because they’re so precious.” "What if I don't want to wear those things?" Kaleb asked as he found his voice. "I like the color black." Dr. Mira repositioned herself on the couch to give him some of his own spotlight. "Is that so?" Kaleb wanted to slap himself for opening his mouth, anything he said would be used against him in the fashion court. At the same time, he knew that they'd not stop at the diaper, there were new depths of their humiliating depravity. Ones he was not prepared to surrender to. "Yeah," he said, then licked his lips. They still tasted a bit like Beckie boob - if that were possible. "Black is slimming and goes with just about anything." He watched Dr. Mira briefly consider his opinion on his own fashion. Fashion court had its own nuance, and it appeared that Judge Mira was about to step in line with the defense. Which in this strange case was him. She smiled at Kaleb and peered at him through her glasses. The scientist then twisted her hips and went back to the research, and reorganized a few of the discarded papers and revealing one of the small devices that previously belonged to either Beckie or his stepsister. Mira pulled free a smooth black stylus and tapped the side of the screen as she prepared to interview him for some reason. "How would you describe your mental state, Kaleb?" He was startled to say the least. "Wait? What?" "Your mental state," Dr. Mira repeated. "How do you feel right now? Happy. Sad. Excited. Constipated. Remember not to lie, you're still wearing those wave readers." Kaleb gave it brief thought. Not long enough to register on the almost invisible electrodes that ran across his head, but long enough to come to some conclusions. This conversation needed to end and fast; he didn't want to get into a verbal spar with Dr. Mira the world renowned 'Little Whisperer'. "I don't want to talk about my feelings in front of everyone," Kaleb offered with a shrug. “Of course you don’t,” Mira gently let off the hook. “You're certainly not lying about that, sweetie. However, you’re far too cute to be left alone. I can see the effects of Maturosis in your softness features, in the pitch of your voice.” Without warning, Dr. Mira pulled him atop her lap and wrapped a constricting arm around him to keep him from squirming away. It was probably meant to be a hug, but it came off as more of a hostage situation. "We need to discuss where you are on your plateau, and we need to work out mode of your ‘tension’. That's the reason that we're sending everyone out of the house but you and Beckie. I think the two of you need some alone time." Insinuation in the first degree. Kaleb couldn’t believe it. His eyes shot over to the Amazon teen in the corner, she was barely containing a smile. Oh, man. He'd be lying to himself if the idea of more 'corner time' didn't give him a tiny tingle in the wee-wee parts. "You both have some explorations to do, some inner turmoil to discover," continued Mira, her words tickled his soul. "Sometimes the path out of Immaturosis requires facing whatever is holding you back. Through my new method we will remove every immature obstacle, and get Beckie on the right path.” Beckie took a big gulp. She was now just as deep as he and Layla. Yet, she didn’t seem so destroyed by the possibilities. “As for you, my sweet boy, we need to help you get to the other side of your Maturosis. Get past your potty anxiety. Welcome your new wardrobe. Recognize your new roles. We will find new games to play, and face your deepest fears, and most likely find out that it won't be all that bad. Charlotte will go home. Layla will go get a makeover. Beckie will help me with our next 'test'. And during all of that, you and I will have a wonderful talk, and I'm sure you'll start to see things my way." Kaleb looked down at the rainbow alphabet floor mat, then up at the non-moving ceiling fan. Maybe surrender wasn't as bad of a strategy as he thought, maybe then they'd turn on the ceiling fan, and it'd all go back to normal. Then again, his normal wasn't exactly as good as other's normals, since there were ceiling fans and sponges as far as the eye could see. “What will we talk about?” Kaleb peered up at the know-it-all Amazon. “I don’t know anything about anything. I don’t understand science or remember any geography. I’m useless here.” “Don’t be silly, Kaleb,” Dr. Mira replied with a soft voice. “We’re going to talk about the most important subject in the world, the one where you are truly an expert: we’re going to learn all about you.”

This really is taking the references to another level more than realistic, even illusory, I would like to know your opinions and comments or what you think of this scene from the comic. PS: these scenes are from a true marvel comic, and I think I'm glad that only these three pages contain this and they haven't shown anything else about this in the rest of the comic, questions regarding the complete comic in the description.

Well, it's that time of year when kids return to school. Kasarberang has been doing great with his femdom contests, so I am adding to the mix with one of my favorite ABDL subjects: schools. Write a story that involves some aspect of diapers or baby action that involves a school. You can create a special school if you like, or write of situations involving students wearing diapers at a "normal" school for whatever reason you can invent. I'll put up $100 for first place, $50 for second, $25 for third. Additional prizes possible. RULES; Post your original story in the Story and Art Forum. Tag it with backtoschool (see the tag on this post). Post a reply to this thread with a link to your story. Any length is acceptable, but I'd prefer it to be kept all in one thread. Remember the rule barring putting minor characters in sexual situations. I'll be traveling during the first weeks of September, so I'm giving you until September 15 to submit your stories. I'll spend the rest of the month reading them. In addition to the eligibility for the prizes, I promise a frank review of your submission. I'm looking forward to what you come up with.

In all my years of good will shopping I never in my wildest imagination thaut I come across a find like this. Lucky I had two things going for me, one I wasn't close to home and 2 I had cash on me..so I worked up my courage grabbed a cart, filled it to the top and bought the lot. With a bonus they where 1/2 price. Only 2.99 a pack

I’m a male, 39 and have been a DL since I was young. It’s always been there but I’ve never really acted on it but always been on the fringes of the forums looking in. Tonight I brought my first diapers for me. I don’t know how I’d be classed. I kinda like to wear what I like to see. It’s the feel, the look, the kink of it. Day to day I consider myself quite ‘manly’ but as I type this I’m wearing dry night pull-ups with pink panties and a white short skirt - and I love it. I don’t especially want to be mothered, well not solely, equally I’m happy to be a daddy but not exclusively. For me it’s more sharing a part of me that’s me with someone that her. It’s my ultimate fantasy that I can have on my own but would love to share. I like pull-ups rather than large diapers, I don’t mind water sports. I like the innocence but also the trust and the love that comes with being so open. I find it a massive turn on both physically and visually. I’m here to be me or the part of me that i can’t be all the time. Thank you for providing a place I can do that in.

The story began. I had a relaxed smile on my face as my wife and I cleared security and headed to our gate. We were finally on our way to our second honeymoon after 20 years of marriage and we were both in a very good mood. I was looking forward to a few weeks away from the pressures of work, enjoying a first class trip to the parts of Europe my wife has most wanted to see. I had arranged the entire thing in secret and given her the itinerary for our actual anniversary a month ago, to her immense delight. My smile turned to a look of confusion as my wife pulled me in the direction of the family bathroom as we walked by, but I followed her as she took my hand. As the door closed, I turned. “Time for a quickie? Aren’t we a little old for that?” I started to pull her towards me, playfully. My wife laughed her little laugh, still making my heart happy after all the years we had been together. “We’re definitely too old for that. But I do have something that will need your pants down.” “Huh? What?” I watched as she unlatched a table from the wall. It was labeled “Assisted Needs Table, 300 lb limit”, the meaning of which I was still trying to figure out as she pulled a bag out of her carry-on, and from that bag pulled what looked like a… “Honey, what’s going on?” She continued to spread out what looked like a padded mat on the table, and patted it, looking at me with a smile. “Trust me. Sit here.” She patted the table, and gently guided me over to it. I allowed her to sit me on the table, which was at about chair height. She bent down, and I watched as she took off one of my shoes, and then the other. “Honey…” I was a little more nervous now… “Talk to me?” Instead, she kissed me full on the lips, and guided me back, rotating me so that I was laying on the table, her arm guiding my legs up and onto the table as well. Keeping her lips on mine, she began to unbutton my pants, and I was beginning to respond. My little brain started to take over, and having a certain set of expectations, began to forget about where we were, or what was happening, and just started living in the moment. Soon my pants and underwear were off, and she pulled away. “Do you trust me?” Her smile had turned into a more of a Cheshire-cat grin. I looked at her. “Of course I trust you… but…” I gestured down at my… um… situation. “Really, what’s going on?” “Well, you gave me this incredible trip, and really wanted to do something for you. Something I think only I can give you.” She reached into a bag. She pulled out a diaper. A large, white, very thick, diaper. She began fluffing it up with a loud crinkle. I had nothing to say, my mind locked on the fact that my wife was holding a diaper. And I had no pants on. And I was laying on a table. A changing table. A diaper changing table. On a diaper changing pad. “I remember the talk we had a year ago about why you wear diapers. Lift up,” my wife said, gently, and I did, still not understanding. “You told me about how they make you feel comfortable, and reduce anxiety, and just felt right. Down.” I lowered my rear onto what was the familiar softness and bulk of a disposable diaper. A disposable diaper that was clearly a thick, effective diaper. “Well, I remember you wanting it to be someone else who chose your diapers and was responsible, and so I couldn’t ask you, but I did some research, and these are supposed to last 10 to 12 hours, so this should last the whole flight. But I did bring some extras, just in case.” Her words swirled in my mind, still mushy from the sensual excitement that I had been headed towards, but was quickly being replaced by something else. I felt her pulling the diaper between my legs and moved my knees apart in response. My little brain was figuring out that the anticipated romp was not going to happen, but the feeling of the soft inside of a diaper being placed over the tip of what was at the moment the rapidly shrinking center of my sensual world was not helping with any sort of clear thinking. “You also told me that you felt a lot of guilt, which is why you don’t talk about this with me, but that when you were alone you played at being incontinent because then there would be a reason for you to wear diapers. It wouldn’t be your ‘fault’ because you needed them. Because you didn’t have a choice. You wanted to have to wear diapers.” I felt the diaper being adjusted, and I heard the unmistakable sound of a tape being opened, and felt the diaper hug me. Another tape was fastened, and then another. “And so, here’s the deal. For our vacation, I’m putting you in diapers.” The diaper was pulled firmly, and the last tape was fastened. “It’s not your choice, it’s not your fault, and it’s not your guilt.” She smiled, as I remained, still, speechless. Her voice took on a light-hearted tone as her fingers traced around the diaper, making sure that the leak guards were spread. “I’ve taken care of everything, I think, and so I hope this helps you relax, reduces your travel anxiety, and, in general, I hope you enjoy it.” She kissed me. “I, um.” I didn’t know what to say. She helped me sit up, and handed me my pants. The white diaper poofed out and crinkled as I slowly pulled them up, processing what she had said. “The whole vacation?” I slipped my shoes on and tied them, adjusting my pants around the fluffiness in my pants, and wiggled a little. “Yes, honey. I’ve arranged supplies to be shipped to the hotels we’ll be at, and made some other arrangements.” It felt like I had a pillow between my legs. Looking at myself in the mirror as we washed our hands, the diaper bulge was… well… I guess if I was looking for it, it was visible, but my shirt loosely hanging camouflage it pretty well. I knew, inside, this was something that I wanted… had always wanted… but this was my wife. “Honey, this is silly. I don’t need a diaper. I don’t want to wear diapers. Can we just stop this now?” My wife just smiled and shook her head, opening the door for us to leave. Leaving the restroom my wife looked at me as we walked, hand in hand, to the gate, the slight crinkle of my underwear barely audible if I tried to hear it. “You don’t really have much of a choice now. The only briefs I packed for you are the kind you’re wearing now. And the pair you were wearing are back in the trash. You are back in diapers now.” — As the plane climbed out and the flight attendant took our drink orders, I felt the bulk to the diaper I was wearing gently push my thighs apart in the comfortable first class seat. My crotch had something of an androgynous bulge, and I made sure my undershirt and dress shirt were arranged to cover the white plastic sticking over the top of my waistband, even though that was additionally covered by the blanket in my lap. I reached over and took my wife’s hand, leaning over the divider to be able to whisper in her ear. “Honey…,” I started to say, before she leaned forward and took a folded sheet of paper from her purse, under the seat in front of her. She handed me the paper. As I unfolded it, I realized it had been crumpled up, and then unfolded, as if discarded. I opened it. It was my “cheat sheet” that I had put together for “The Diaper Discussion” I had had with my wife a year ago. My daughter had just moved out to college, and I had decided that it was time to voice a part of me that had been repressed for 19 years. I had put this part of me on a back shelf while we raised a wonderful, and now independent, daughter but when we became empty-nesters the need came back. The discussion had gone… not well, and my wife had reacted very cooly for some time after. I had decided to not push things at the time, and continued feeding the need quietly, and in hiding, for the past year. I loved my wife, and sought acceptance, not an ultimatum. I’m not great at communicating under pressure, so the sheet I now held was the “FAQ” I had written and printed for my own use. I guess I had thrown it out after, and it now looks like it had been recovered. “I saved this after our discussion,” my wife said quietly, looking at the sheet. Her handwriting had been added in places, commenting on my own notes. “I think that’s the most honest you’ve ever been with me, or yourself, so I’m taking that as what you really want, despite any protesting or complaining you may do now. Ok?” I looked at the paper with some trepidation, as it was true that I had spent weeks before “The Diaper Talk” working on this, polishing it, trying to make sure that it was indeed the most “true” I could be to myself. And it was all laid out in my hands. I nodded. “You realize, honey, that some of this is… kind of extreme?” She laughed. “Nah, babe, I did a bunch of research online, and you’re pretty vanilla compared to some of the things I saw. You’re going to be fine. Trust me.” She gave me a quick, but meaningful, peck on the cheek and her hand moved to give my crotch a little squeeze. “Let’s have fun with this.” I looked more closely at some of her notes. Where my outline read, “Where do I buy them?” and listed a number of URLs and Amazon products that I had intended to use as examples, she had circled and highlighted a number of them, making comments about reviews of specific products from the shops. They were the most absorbent out there. I wondered which I was wearing. Where my outline read, “Where and when do I wear them?” and listed, “Traveling, to reduce anxiety”, “Planes, to reduce need to use bathroom and resulting stress,” and “Where no one knows me, just because it relaxes me”, she had highlighted and circled the section and made a big note, “->EUROPE TRIP.” And where I had noted, “How can you help”, and “Accept this as part of me”, and “Help remove guilt” she had drawn an arrow to “How to remove guilt”. In that section I had typed a number of items but she had highlighted, “Someone else tells me to wear them, because then it’s not my ‘fault’.” Her handwriting next to that made it clearer. “Put him back in diapers. Make him use them without a choice.” And, underlined twice, “Because _I_want_ him to wear diapers. ” I looked at her. She smiled at me with a devious smile. “Maybe it took me a little while to accept this, but it’s just a part of you, and I do love you, you know.” I flagged the passing attendant down, and ordered another gin and tonic. This was going to be an interesting trip. – I looked at my wife. She was… confused. She looked at me, the pages I had printed in her hand, a not-so-friendly look on her face. “What was I supposed to get out of this?” “I wrote it…” “Oh.” She looked down. “I’m not sure what to do with this.” And then I woke up.

I do this all the time. I blame it on my adhd. Lol under seats in vehicle, for example. Too funny

You can make your own Pop! figures now! lol. I didn't buy it cuz its $30 but I wish I could afford it just to add ME to my Funko collection. https://funko.com/funko-pop-yourself.html

i'll have to go in and make one and see what it comes out like! Brian

Good morning!

That's so awesome! You've been very brave and I'm pleased she is open and caring about this side of you. How did you both meet, may I ask?

Welcome to dd @AlwaysenjoyedI hope you enjoy your time here. I too am the same way I have liked diapers since I was young too and didn’t buy my first diapers for me until I was in my mid 20s I’m 34 btw. I see you also like pull ups rather than large diapers. As my name suggests I like to wear goodnites training pants when I can. If you want to talk or know about me just message me.

Trying a Trest for the first time tonight, I am sold on these! I am 7 hours in and it is well used but if I didnt have to go to bed soon, Id stay in it longer.

Hello

I actually went up to a 2XL Rearz Prefold, and found that the added length provided a lot more overlap between the back "wings" and the front. The back corners I can almost get to touch together in front when wrapped around my belly. I am talking upwards of about 10cm or so on me for sides, and 5cm or so above my belly button. I can _just get to the belly button on the XL, and not a lot of coverage on my hips/side. It is a _lot_ more rise than the XL tends to give me both front and back, which means I have more real estate with which to use 8 snappi's. I'm also ensuring the nappy is tight on me, and not loose. It's a lot of nappy, and it makes me feel really small and secure. No leaks whatsoever so far. I do put baby terry cloth 60x60cm nappies in as stuffers, but I just lay them flat, no folding into pads. I can't find 2XL in country after I bought out the stock that Derek had

I've had a package arrive to my city and state only to go to Kansas and have to come back again smh

Thanks! I'm a little shy but I'm trying to put myself out there!

Now I've only just tuned into this episode of Smackdown, but wow Baby Livy is booked incredibly strong. You gotta hope for some comeuppance at Summerslam. If Ruby loses, we Riott lol. But if Livy wins, you gotta imagine she's first in line to bring the title back to her nursery. Gotta say though I loved Aliyah with the pacifier in the backstage segment. Also Randy Orton is all over the show, feuding with both Seth and Brock? If he's not the world champ soon, he should be.

Even before the opening credits of "Friday Night Smackdown" can air, instead cameras appear in the office of "co-WWF Commissioner’s " Adam Peirce & Sonya Deville are reviewing notes for this evening's show. Adam Peirce: We can book the Alpha Academy against the New Day in a 2 out of 3 falls match and STILL have time to ensure that Randy and Seth get their contract signing later in the night. Sonya Deville: Nice try there, Adam, but WE ALL know why anybody comes to these shows, and it's to see Roman, Braun, and the Fiend plus the STACKED women's division….. *Knock…Knock* Adam & Sonya: WHO IS IT? ………………… ……….. "Hewwo, adam." ………………… ……….. "Hewwo sonya." The in-room microphones pick up the noise of a muffled crinkle along with soft footsteps as cameras pan back, reveling Paul Xander "waddling" into frame dressed as an adult-style "toddler," given that Paul's once frosted & spike tipped hair has now been replaced with a little boy's "mushroom" style hair cut, Xander is shown sucking on an adult-sized pacifier which has been clipped to the bib of his corduroy short all which give way to the distinct "diaper" like bulge protruding from his waist all the way down to his Care Bare socks and his toddler-like adult Velcro shoes. It's obvious both Adam & Sonya are stunned while Paul, for his part, looks as embarrassed as one can be in this situation, his face aflame with red cheeks. All three persons stand there until finally the sound of sucking a pacifire is broken by Adam. Adam Peirce: Well, hello Paul, that's an interesting "outfit" you're wearing. So, what, ummm...... Sonya Deville: What Adam means honey, is that is an adorable outfit you have on. Who picked it out for you, Mommy Brie or Aunty Nikki? Paul Xander: Aunthy niwwi. Sonya Deville: Now sweetheart, Adam and I are very busy, so what did you want to ask us? Paul Xander: Mommy wrothe a nothe. Paul taps the white square pinned onto his overalls, Adam reaches forward and unpins the note, and reads it out loud. Adam Peirce: "Dear Adam and Sonya, first I hope this note reaches you and ISN'T spattered with Pauley's drool. He can be such a fountain, from his mouthy to his little firehose. " Really? I'm expected to read this, I mean, how, Sonya, PAUL, how did you end up..... Sonya Deville: Man up, Adam, and keep reading. Adam Peirce: Alright, Alright, just give me a moment. "Second, despite our objections to WWF management agreeing to put a helpless infant in the ring against a crazy bitch like Ruby. The WWF has gone ahead and officially booked our most precious wittle girl, baby LIVY against that no-good poo-poo head Ruby Riot at Summer Slam. With a match set, it's only fair that our wittle girl get her own practice match tonight against Alyhia. That being said to ensure our baby's safety and even the safety of Ruby, we are DEMANDING you ban them from the building this evening. If not, neither Aunty Nikki nor I will be held responsible for the brutal beating against Ruby or her trash bag friend, given the threats uttered to our baby girl in recent weeks. Failure to comply with this demand for PUBLIC safety will reflect poorly on WWF management ahead of a major pay per view event. We both believe management in roles like commissioner would be investigated and even terminated depending on the severity of the beatdown that will occur if our demands are not met. Sincerely the Bella Twins." Adam removes his reading glasses and turns towards Sonya. Adam Peirce: Well? What's your thoughts on all of this? Sonya Deville: My thoughts? Adam, there is NOTHING to think about here, given that I agree with that note entirely. We can book Liv against Alyhia; we can ensure the safety of all parties by, in fact, BANNING the Riot Squad this evening, and most of all, we can protect and promote the integrity of the commissioner's office. Adam Peirce: SO, in other words because of who the Bella's know in Titan towers we should just do what they say or we could lose our jobs. Sonya Deville: Yep. Adam Peirce: Works for me. Wait, there's more to this note. "Once you have made your decision, could you please write it on a sheet of paper and re-pin that to Pauly? Ps could you always preform a....." No..... No...I'm NOT doing that. Sonya Deville: Not doing what? (Sonya takes the note from Adam who walks out of the frame). "Ps could you please preform a diapee check on Pauly? It's such a long waddle from the dressing room to your office he may be in need of a change when he gets back." Is that all? You're such a PUSSY, Adam. Sonya turns back to an ever-embarrassed Paul Xander as she bends down and unsnaps the side of his shortall’s, reveling a glimpse of the infant object that hugs at his waist. Sonya Deville: Now you hold real still baby, no wiggling while Sonya checks your wittle diapers-OH-uh-oh somebody has a wet diapee. I'll make sure to note that on the note, sweety. Sonya refashions Paul's overalls before quickly writing her own note and pinning it back onto Paul, turning Xander around and giving him a pat on his bum, leading him out of the office as the scene fades into the opening Smackdown intro. Our scene opens just as cameras catch Big E, Kofi Kingston & Xavier Woods better known as the New Day dance back towards the entrance way. Corey Graves” You talk about a MUST-SEE WWF tag team championship match; the New Day retain their titles against a tough encounter against the Alpha Academy. Rene Young “Congrats to the New Day but Corey do you know who ISN’T dancing here this evening? The Riott Squad. Why? Because as per our “CO” WWF Commissioner’s they’ve been BANNED from the building this evening.” Corey Graves “Sounds like a safety issue to me Rene, we ALL know how volatile Ruby can be and in recent weeks the escalation of hatred between the Squad & the Twins has been well documented. I think this is just a case of our Commissioner’s doing the right thing…..” Rene Yong “Doing the right thing, Corey? Really? You’re going to spout that BS on TV right now. If anybody wanted to do the right thing it would have been before all this Adult Baby crazy shit had taken place. But I’m being told we have backstage footage of the Riott Squad being removed from the building thanks to those pair of crazy Karen’s known as the Bella Twins. Let’s take a look.” We cut from ringside & reappear outside The Smoothie King arena outside New Orleans, where the words “earlier today” are visible on the lower right-hand corner of the screen. As cameras catch both member of the Riot Squad existing their vehicle and looking to grab their gear only to be approached by Sonya Deville. Sonya Deville: Ladies don’t bother grabbing your gear, it won’t be necessary this evening. Ruby Riot: Thanks for the heads up, Sonya but I was only going to grab my TIRE IRON (pop) it’s the perfect way for me to say hello to Liv later this evening. Both Ruby & Sarah share a chuckle as Ruby pats the tire iron in her right palm. Sonya Deville: While I’m sure there are some New Orleans FREAKS…(HEAT) that would get a kick out of you smashing a tire iron against the skull of an infant, that’s NOT happening tonight. In fact, ladies I suggest you take that tire iron and yourselves OUT of the arena this evening. Sarah Logan: What? Why? Sonya Deville: Was I not making myself clear? I said you two are BANNED from the arena this evening. Period. HEAT Ruby Riot: Is that a fact? We’ve been banned but NOT by you or Adam. Let me guess the Twins either screwed you or paid you to keep their little baby Liv away from the ASS-WHOPPING…(POP)…she rightfully deserves. Sonya Deville: That’s NOT the point nor is it the case, given the history between you all together and the fact that Liv Morgan is indeed competing later this evening. Leaves us wanting to protect your upcoming Summer Slam match. Meaning…. Ruby Riot: Meaning if I ditch the tire iron, suck my thumb, and slap a diaper around my waist. Then I would be allowed in the arena. Sonya Deville: Ewwww; NO. Nobody wants to see an Adult in a diaper gross. But I appreciate your nonviolence approach Ruby. So, in the spirt of cooperation from one of the WWF’s own CO- commissioners can I please have you leave now. Ruby Riot: Or… Ruby now gets closer in the face of Deville. Sonya Deville: Or I’ll have security FORCE you out!!! With that statement made the camera pans back showing three security guards enter from the right- & left-hand sides of the parking lot lining up next to Sonya. Ruby can’t help but let loose a devilish smirk. Ruby Riot: Alright Sonya both Sarah and I agree and in the spirt of “CO” operation we’re only going to give your security MILD-concussions!!!!!! Ruby then SMASHES HER TIRE IRON AGAINST A SECURITY GARDS SHOULDER!!!!!! “Holy Shit” *clapclapclap* “Holy Shit” It’s an all-out brawl between the Riott Squad and arena security, as Logan grabs the head of a guard and SENDS THEM FACE FIRST INTO A NEARBY CAR WINDOW!!!!! Glass shatters everywhere, while Ruby begins leaping from car roof to car roof before nailing a RUNNING DIVE LANDING ON A PILE OF SECURITY GARDS!!!!! Sonya continues calling for more “help” and eventually the Riott Squad is over powered as both Logan & Riot are carried out of the arena as Sonya looks pissed and kicks the tires of Ruby’s car. Sonya Deville: And make sure they STAY OUYT!!!!! And somebody move this DAMN car as well. **** Commercial Break **** Cameras cut away from ringside & appear in a backstage arena hallway where senior WWF referee Jessika Carr is speaking with Aliyah & another backstage official until “Mommy” Brie Bella enters the scene diaper bag & all. “Mommy” Brie: Jessika…..Jessika…..Oh Jessika! Jessika Carr: Oh, hey Brie. “Mommy” Brie with diaper bag in hand walks over and hugs Jessika and then glares over at Aliyah before putting on a “fake” smile as she pats her head. “Mommy” Brie: Oh look it’s Livy’s little playmate Ally. Are you all excited for your playdate with my baby girl Livy? I bet you are, you are just a little cutie pie aren’t you? (Brie pinches Aliyah’s cheek before looking back at Jessika) “Mommy” Brie: So anyway, how are you, Jess? It’s been forever since we last chatted Mom to Mom. How are your little ones? Jessika Carr: Umm, yeah, it’s been a quick second since we last chatted. I mean my little ones aren’t that little anymore but yeah, I’d love to chat. “Mommy” Brie: Great, now I just have to find the time since now our house has TWO little ones in pampers. I know we’re just “watching” Xander but between us it’s only a matter of time before Nikki becomes a “mommy” herself. She just adores her wittle boy but having two in pampers I was scared that our entire lives would be just changing diapers. I mean when one is wet the other is dry or messy. When we’re feeding one, the others hungry, when ones is sleepy the other isn’t. But I would trade any of it away because having two tusheys in pampers is the cutest thing EVER, HEAT “Mommy” Brie: Anyways the reason why I needed to talk to you is about Livy’s & Allie’s playdate later tonight, see Nikki & I are trying to get Livy on a feeding & sleeping schedule and this “match” interferes in this a bit. So, what I’m asking for is a time out during the match. Just enough time where I can feed Livy her bottle of formula. Aliyah: WHAT THE? “Mommy” Brie: Don’t worry cutie Mommy Brie has a juicy box with your name on it since you’re a big girl after all. Aliyah: No I’m not putting up with the BAT-SHIT CRAZY from anyone, there will NOT be a feeding breaking during…. Brie cuts off Aliyah by shoving & holding an adult pacifier in her mouth. “Mommy” Brie: Sounds like somebodies a fussy girl because they missed their nap time, luckily Nikki’s got both Livy & Pauly napping in the dressing room. But like I said with two in pampers I have no time for the cries of a child so hush Allie otherwise “Mommy” will give you a spanking. “Mommy” Brie: Anyways, Jessika Sonay & Adam already approved this “bottle break” so it’s happening. This is me giving you a heads up and letting you know that when I shout “feeding time” you pause the match. Okay? Jessika Carr: Sure Brie, umm if Adam and Sonya approved it I’ll enforce the “bottle break” when you call for it, except it can’t be during a pin/submission attempt. “Mommy “Brie: Of course, thanks do much for EVERYTHING you do Jess and you. (Brie turns to Aliyah) Now honey don’t go crying and being a sore loser when Livy beasts you tonight. With that Brie removes the pacifier & turns and walks away. Cameras return to the ring where Aliyah is already standing in the ring next to both Jessika Carr & Lillian Garcia. Lillian Garcia: The following singles match is set for one fall with a fifteen-minute time limit. Introducing first, hailing from Toronto, Ontario Canada…. currently standing in the ring….ALIYAH!!!!!! There’s a mild-POP via this Smackdown crowd as Aliyah throws up her arms in victory before climbing the middle rope and waving out to the crowd. Rene Yong “It should come as NO surprise to anyone who this crowd and I are cheering for. I honestly hope Aliyah drops Liv Morgan on her soft spot and beats her within an inch of her diapered life. Leaving just enough for Ruby to finish one is just one week’s time at Summer Slam.” Corey Graves “Bias much Rene? Anyways speaking about Summer Slam, this year WWF Summer Slam is sponsored by Subway, eat fresh. Lillian Garcia: And introducing her opponent accompanied by “Mommy” Brie Bella…..(HEAT)…..this is “BABY” LIVY…MORGAN!!!!!! The arena is bathed in “baby pink” hues of lights as out on stage walks out “Mommy” Brie hand in hand with Livy Morgan, who is sucking on her pacifier and is wearing a printed grey leotard along with a short tutu dress? Both Brie & Livy wave out to the capacity crowed who greets them with HEAT for days. Rene Yong “Look at that sight, it makes me physically ill to witness a grown woman calling herself “Mommy” proudly carrying a diaper bag which the adult next to her wears the diapers that are poking out from the top. Plus, they’re smiling because they got the Riott Squad banned from the arena. So, their safe to continue to live this DISGUSTING fetish lifestyle.” Brie & Livy reach the bottom of the entrance ramp, Mommy then spin Livy around as her tutu reveals the leopard is in fact a oneise as Livy’s thick diaper protrudes from the side. Finished spinning Brie removes the tutu and does a quick “diapee” check at ringside declaring Living “all dry” se removes her pacifier as Morgan rolls under the bottom rope. She leaps to her feet waving over at Aliyah and shouts… “Awiyah…..Awiyah……Awiyah…LET’S PLAY!!!!!” *Ding….Ding* Aliyah & Livy begin roaming around in the ring and trying to size one another up, Aliyah is the first to make a move as she quickly darts in on Livy, grabbing a leg, but Livy keeps her wits about her enough to back chop on her free leg into a corner and dipping her head between the ropes, forcing referee Jessika Carr to make Aliyah release her grip. She does so hesitantly, but as she steps away with her arms raised, Morgan darts from her false prone position right back at Aliyah, who still has a major heads up, and throws Livy past her into the ropes. As Liv looks to bounce back, Aliyah preps for the rebound looking for a quick side kick, but Livy has her well-scouted and doesn’t even rebound, pulling instead on the ropes and darting outside the ring to imminently be hugged by “Mommy” Brie at ringside much to the disgusted via the fans of the WWF Universe. Rene Young “Here we go, run to mommy you little bitch.” Corey Graves “Easy Rene, Livy’s not just looking for comfort but Brie is a multi time Divas champion. She’s probably offering her strategy as well.” While Livy gets major heat for pulling that move, the referee is trying to keep Aliyah from the ropes and going outside after Livy who gets “diaper pats” and a kiss on the cheek via Brie before she slides back in the ring very tentatively. It’s back to square one here, as Liv & Aliyah circle the ring once more, but it’s Livy this time who strikes first after both women get in a lock-up. Livy applies a headlock to Aliyah, but she whips Livy into the opposite ropes, but gets knocked down via a rebound shoulder block via Liv. As Livy rebounds again towards Aliyah, the diva Livy by springing to her feet and again attempting a beheading side kick that Liv notices mid-stride and abruptly changes direction of his charge, again rolling out of the ring to avoid being destroyed by those legs. Rene Young “You’ve GOT TO BE KIDDING ME…AGAIN? Is this infant going to wrestle or would she rather play with a rattle and doll instead?” As the crowd continues to berate Livy, “Mommy” Brie berates the crowd telling them “Her baby girl is the SMAREST oh yes she is.” Back in the ring Aliyah is getting incredibly restless at this point, going over to the ropes to try and grab Livy herself, but Morgan is quick to realize this and hits Aliyah with a guillotine drop that sends her flying backwards. Livy is now suddenly quick to climb back into the ring and stalks Aliyah, going for a cutter of sorts…NO!! Aliyah doesn’t go down or even push Livy away. Instead, she grips around Livy’s diapered waist and tries to execute a German suplex, but Livy manages to find his way out of that…only to turn around and get a fierce shoot kick to the gut! Livy finally feels the feet, doubling over and dropping to a knee from the sudden kick. While she’s hunched over, Aliyah stays on her and hits Morgan with a feint roundhouse to the back of the head!! Livy goes down, giving Alyhia the first cover of the match – 1…2…NO!!! Morgan manages to get a shoulder up!! Corey Graves “There’s certainly no denying the natural talent that Aliyah posses, if she can knock off Morgan here this evening. Then you’ve got to consider it an upset win for an overlooked talent.” Rene Young “That’s one hundred percent correct Corey. And look at that Mommy Brie seems to be worried her baby is about to get the BEATING EVERYONE wants to see.” We still get a close up of Mommy Brie's face on the outside where she’s in a state of shock from the blow. In the ring Livy starts to recover by getting on all fours and starting to crawl to her feet, but Aliyah is quick to get back on the attack and hits her in the face with a front dropkick!! Liv turns over herself on that move, Alyhia again getting a cover – 1…2…NO!! Morgan again thrusts a shoulder up, grabbing the bottom rope and using all the ropes to make it to her feet. Aliyah doesn’t let up, finding Morgan on the ropes and giving her a fierce CHOP(Woooo!!) that sends her reeling again. As Aliyah backs up and sizes Morgan up once again, going for another roundhouse kick to the skull, but Livy shoots underneath this one towards Aliyah’s stationary leg, torquing it as she goes down! Livy seems to have opened up a weak point in one of Alyhia’s strengths. Morgan then rapidly delivers a trio of elbow drops to the inside of the leg before lifting up on it, hoping to totally remove the appendage from Alyhia’s offense. She then takes Alyhia’s ankle under her arm before spiking the leg into the canvas, putting all the more damage on the leg. Aliyah is in noticeable pain as she tries to limp to a base, but Morgan is now the pitbull on offense and takes Aliyah and drives her into a corner, sandwiching her and hitting her with blow after blow and wearing Aliyah down. Livy takes a second to take a step back and take in some heat before charging back at Aliyah, but the remaining educated foot rolls over and hits Morgan in the face with a rolling wheel kick out of the corner!! Aliyah slides over for her third pin attempt of the match – 1…2…NO!! Morgan breaks out of that as well. As Livy recovers, she gets to one knee, which Aliyah responds by attempting to hit her with a shining wizard…that misses…back kick from Aliyah …Morgan dodges that and turns it into a swift neckbreaker!! Livy with her first cover, hooking the injured leg – 1…2…NO!! Core Graves “Morgan with a counter and her first cover of the evening. Despite the diapers, there’s a diva still in her after all.” Morgan looks to keeps on the offense, grilling Aliyah now with a clothesline and a suplex before setting her up for his backdrop-to-neckbreaker move, but Aliyah wiggles her way out of that and rolls Morgan forward with a headlock before both women get back to their feet and Morgan throws Aliyah into the ropes, which Aliyah then gets hit with a Livy clean-leaping back elbow. Before Morgan can get a cover, however, Aliyah manages to grit her teeth, quickly get back to her feet, and kick Morgan right in the chest!! This is followed by another kick right to the chest, sending Livy back a few steps. As Aliyah looks to finish the combo with one last big roundhouse to the head, but Morgan ducks and catches Aliyah from behind, completely hitting her backdrop-to-neckbreaker maneuver!! Livy for another cover – 1…2…3-NO!! Aliyah kicks out!! Livy is growing tired of this as she stomps her hands and feet before completely rolling onto her stomach and proceeds to have a temper tantrum in the middle of the ring. Rene Young “For Christ sakes the big baby is throwing a big temper tantrum in the ring, oh yeah Corey that’s the sign of a mature “diva” alright.” Cameras catch “Mommy” Bire as she begins shouting at Livy. “Mommy” Brie: Livy…Livy…LIVY…BABY…LOOK AT MAMA…..LOOK WHAT MAMA’S GOT!!!! Morgan looks up and see’s Brie dangling her pacifier in front of her through the middle rope. “Mommy” Brie: Come on Baby…come on….take the binky….take the binky. Morgan crawls her diapered “tush” towards the ropes as Brie slips the “binky” into Morgan’s mouth, instantly soothing the “baby”. After she’s given her “binky” Morgan refocuses on the match at hand, with Aliyah still down she proceeds to target Alyhia’s weakened leg again with several stomps and even a jumping knee drop before taking Aliyah up and surprising with a double underhook suplex. Morgan floats right over for another cover – 1…2…NO!! Aaliyah stays live a little longer. Morgan stays focused as she drags Aliyah over into the corner, still sitting down now propped up against the turnbuckle pad. Livy lands boot after boot after boot to both Alyhia’s gut & face until the official calls her off. Morgan steps back with a child like grin before looking over at “Mommy” Brie at ringside and still with her “binky” in her mouth shouts. “Mama, I've gots to go potty” Corey Graves “WHAT!?” With that Morgan reaches under her oneise and begins unsnapping the material as her pristine white diaper is now fully exposed in the ring as she has also backed up now squatting her rear end in front of the face of a still “knocked out” Aliyah. Still looking over at Mommy, Morgan again shouts with a wicked smile creeping across her face. “Mama me making pee- pee in my diapee” Rene Young “No…NO..NOI…NO…I’M NOT WATCING THIS SHIT!!!!” Corey Graves “Let’s hope it’s piss and NOT shit because Liv Morgan is USING HER DIAPERS ON NATIONAL TV!!!!” Mommy Brie nods in approval as cameras catch the back end of Livy’s diaper turning yellow as it’s pushed up against Alyhia’s face & that’s when her nose twitches and eyes dart open to see her opponent “dirtying” her diaper right in her face. We can hear Aaliyah scream as Livy just giggles before taking a few steps back and then SQUISHING HER WET DIAPER RIGHT IN ALIYATH’S FACE!!!!! With a modified “Stink Face” face wash via Morgan Rene Young “DEAR GOD…..A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH…Liv Morgan just sandwiched her DIRTY DIAPER into the face of another adult!!!” Morgan then nails a THRID kick right to an unprotected Aliyah in the corner as she drags her out and Morgan then crawls into the cover– 1….2….3-NO!!! Aliyah stays in things!! Instead of a tantrum Morgan then takes Aliyah up and props her on the top rope, possibly looking for a big time move here…but Aliyah fights Morgan off, hitting her with several blows to the ribs before surprising Liv by slapping her so hard across the face her pacifier is launched into the crowd before Liv turns back right into a headbutt to the solar plexus, knocking her off the top completely and making her splat onto the canvas. The crowd is popping as they know what might be coming as Aliyah adjusts herself on the top rope…her hurt leg giving Aliyah some trouble…ready…WARRIOR’S WAY!! DOUBLE FOOT STOMP INTO THE GUT OF MORGAN!! But Aliyah is hurt! Alyhia manages to hit her finisher on Morgan, the damage to her leg causes it to buckle on the big impact and forces her to roll away from Morgan clutching her leg in pain. Rene Young “SHE HIT HIT…. ALIYAH NAILED HER DOUBLE FOOT STOMPO, THIS MATCH SHOULD BE OVER!!!!” Corey Graves “But it ISN’T, both women are down in the middle of the ring.” “Mommy” Brie: BOTTLE BREAK…. BOTTLE BREAK!!!!! Rene Young “WHAT? There are no “bottle breaks” in wrestling. Who books this SHIT?” Fans are PISSED off as the official is actually permitting a “bottle break” during a match as Brie rolls into the ring with a bib & botte full of milk as she sits in the corner, propping up Livy in her lap, bib on and bottle in. She’s bottle feeding a WWF “superstar” during the match. The official Jessika Carr tries her best to “adapt” to the situation as Aliyah is still nursing her injury while Liv is literally nursing. Corey Graves “I literally have no words for what I’ve seen in this match.” Cameras catch Aliyah pounding the canvas in frustration as she looks across the ring in disgust at what she is seeing screaming “GET CONTRAOL OF THE DAMN MATCH!!!” Now on one leg Alyhia rushes towards Morgan & her “Mommy” but Carr steps in between trying to separate her from Morgan. Brie see’s feeding time is over and has Morgan stand up as she slides out of the ring, in seeing this Carr steps to the side as Aliyah charges in only to have MORGAN SPITS THE FORMUAL ALL OVER HER FACE!!!!!! Rene Young “FORT FUCKS SAKES….WHO DIDN’T SEE THIS COMING? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH THE WWF?” Temporarily blinded by a mouth full of milk, Morgan kicks Aliyah in her injured leg causing her to double over setting her up for Liv to lock in a headlock and spring off the ropes delivering her finishing maneuver the ObLIVion middle rope bulldog causing Aliyah to land on her skull. Morgan simply sits her “wet bum” on the face of Aliyah into the cover….. ..…ONE….. .…TWO…. ..THREE.. *DING….DING* Lillian Garcia: The WINNER of the match via pin fall….”BABY”…LIVYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!! The HEAT is insane as “Mommy” Brie steps back into the ring, reaches down and picks up Liv as the two embrace in the center of the ring. Rene Young” Don’t think that for ONE SECOND that this SHIT was actual wrestling. I mean what Aliyah was doing was wrestling, do not question her heart, skill & desire. But what that baby BITCH Liv Morgan and her Mommy Brie Bella do is nothing short of human debauchery!!!!” Corey Graves “Right or wrong Rene the fact of the matter is Liv WON this match and heading into her match with Ruby she has momentum on her side.” In the ring still holding Livy, Brie continues to dot over her baby girl. “Mommy” Brie: You did such a GREAT job baby, not only did you win your play date but you drank up all of you baba and you made potty in your diapee’s. YES YOU DIUD, YES YOU DID MY WITTLE WET DIAPER PRINCESS. Now let’s get you a diapee change before heading home. Corey Graves “Stick around for the monumental tag team MAIN EVENT clash as Randy Orton & Batista team up to face Roman Reigns & Brock Lesnar. How will these four men co-exist?” **** Commercial Break **** Cameras return this time the POV is that from the front seat of an SUV showing the backseat where there are two adult sized car seats in the middle of the frame on the right, we can already see Paul Xander strapped into one and while on the left hand side “Mommy” Brie is finishing strapping Liv Morgan into her’s. “Mommy” Brie: One strap…. two….straps…..and THREE straps. Good girl Livy staying extra still for Mommy here and during that wet diapee change earlier. Unlike Pauly over there, Nikki did you spanked him to sleep? The camera pans back showing “Aunty” Nikki sitting in the passenger seat up front. “Aunty” Nikki: Yes, Brie unlike our good girl Livy, Pauly was a BAD BABY he didn’t want to have his diapee changed at all. He insisted he was a “BIG BOY” and that he didn’t need a Mommy or an Aunty. So, Aunty Nikki spanked this baby into submission and into a thick pair of dry pampers. Brie joins Nikki up front and starts the car. “Mommy” Brie: Don’t worry Aunty, soon enough that bad boy will be begging his Aunty or should I say his Mommy Nikki not just for a diapee change but a snuggle as well. Let’s get these babies back in their nursery and off to nighty-night. The shot changes as the car begins to drive out of the arena parking lot stops suddenly as another vehicle blocks their exit. Cameras zoom in closer on the other car as SARHA LOGAN sticks her head out of the window to a POP via this crowd. Logan begins honking the horn of her car like a mad woman before the camera shot switches back into the Bella’s car where THE BACK WINDOW IS SHATTERD BY RUBY RIOT!!!!!!! Ruby Riot: IT’S RUBY BICTHES!!!!!!! It’s an all-out parking lot BRAWL, as both Nikki & Brie exists their car and meet the Riot Squad in the parking lot with Nikki rushing at Ruby only to get a tire iron SMASHED between her ribs. Nikki doubles over as Ruby then smashes the iron off of Nikki’s back. Meanwhile Brie is back body dropped via Sarah Logan through a table in the back. Logan stays on top of Brie landing right hands. Corey Graves “ What….WHAT IS HAPPENING RIGHT NOW? The Riott Squad was BANNED from the arena.” Rene Young “Your right Corey they were banned from the arena NOT the parking lot. We’ve got a PARKINTG LOT BRALW ON OUR HANDS!!!!!” Ruby laughing to herself SMASHES the left back window, the window next to Liv Morgan. Morgan is heard screaming “Mommy….Aunty….Mommy…Aunty” as she struggles with her seat belt but it’s no use as Ruby lunges into the car attempting to pull Morgan out by her pigtails!!!!! Ruby Riot: There’s NOBODY to save you now baby girl, YOUR ASS IS MINE!!!!! Ruby is landing shot after shot as Liv is helpless to defend herself, Ruby’s drawn blood after smashing Liv’s nose with a right hand. Fans POP as Ruby licks the blood off of her fist before reaching down and raising the tire iron above her head UNTIL NIKKI BELLA ATTACKS FROM BEHIND!!!!!! Brie is back to her feet taking control of Logan and SMASHING HER HEAD THROUGH THE DRIVERS WIDOW OF HER CAR!!!!!!! Brie reaches into her diaper bah and pulls out the “Hello Kitty” wooden spanking paddle and throws it over the roof of their car and into the hands of Nikki who SMASHES & BREAKS THE PADDLE OFF THE BACK OF RUBY’S HEAD!!!!!! “Mommy” & “Aunty”: LEAVE OUR BABIES ALONE!!!!! The Bella’s get back in their car and RAMS IT PAST the car blocking their way as they speed out of the parking lot just as Ruby gets back to her feet and screams…. Ruby Riot: THIS ISN’T OVER YET…. BITCHES…..THIS ISN’T OVER MORGAN!!!!!! Cameras fade out.

Patiently waiting for the next installment and hoping you haven't gotten burnt out. Hope everybody is enjoying the waning part of summer.

I hope you’ve had a nice summer, @Nomadic. When might we see more of baby Addy and her evolving life and family? Soon, I hope!

That's one of the simplest. And one I use often. The nice thing is you can also fold the back over if it's too wide, or unfold more of the front if it's not wide enough. @wannawet Part of getting the fold right is dependent upon how large your towel/diaper is to begin with, and how big your waist is.

As a high school teacher I still dispell the idea they were putting a tracking chip in each dose. I stand there, tossing my phone in my hand. While asking them to think of something that Big Brother could use to track me, learn about my shopping habits, what I'm thinking about and even my political beliefs. Makes putting a micro chip in every dose seem like a pretty huge waste of time.

Yes 🤣 Thanks for the comments! I had been getting asked for a character tree a while back. There's been enough information now that it's safe to post this. There's one thing in a couple of chapters that will update one character, but this shouldn't spoil anything, I don't think.

My Patreon page offers early access to all stories along with exclusive content and stories, with more to come soon! I have over 50 original stories planned but I can only write more, with your support so please do consider subscribing if you want more content. You can find my Patreon page at www.patreon.com/backtobabyhood. Thank you for your support. Chapter 15 Alison called Mikey down from his room, her voice carrying a firm command. His heart raced as he descended the stairs, anticipation mingling with trepidation. He reached the bottom, where Alison was waiting for him. Alison stood tall, her arms crossed, her expression a mixture of disappointment and stern resolve. The weight of her gaze bore down on Mikey, intensifying the sinking feeling in his stomach. Without saying a word, Alison motioned for Mikey to follow her into the kitchen. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension as they entered. Alison leaned against the countertop, her eyes fixed on Mikey, awaiting his confession. Mikey took a deep breath, summoning every ounce of courage he could muster. "I... I can explain," he stammered, his voice laced with nervousness. Alison raised an eyebrow, her tone calm but firm. "Go on, then. Explain why you lied about the delivery. And don't you even try to deny it, Mikey." Mikey swallowed hard, his throat dry. He knew he couldn't evade the truth any longer. "I... I... I was... scared," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. Alison's expression softened slightly, a glimmer of understanding crossing her features. "Scared? Scared of what, Mikey?" Mikey hesitated, his thoughts and emotions swirling in a tumultuous dance. With a deep breath, he summoned the courage to voice his deepest fear, baring his vulnerability in the hope that it might elicit some empathy from Alison. "I...I thought that if I could just make the delivery disappear, maybe...maybe you would change your mind about making me wear the nappies," Mikey stammered, his voice tinged with desperation. "I'm scared that..." Before he could finish his sentence, Alison interjected, her tone cutting through his words like a sharp blade. "Mikey, have you been wetting the bed?" she inquired, her voice both direct and probing. Mikey's shoulders slumped, and he begrudgingly admitted, "Yes, but it's only temporary. I can stop, I'm sure of it." The corners of Alison's lips turned downward, a mixture of disappointment and concern etched across her face. She pressed on, determined to convey an unyielding reality. "Were you wet this morning?" she asked, her voice firm yet laced with a hint of compassion. With a defeated sigh, Mikey reluctantly responded, "Well, yes... but I can stop. I can control it." Alison's expression softened momentarily, her eyes reflecting a glimmer of sympathy. However, her resolve remained unshaken as she delivered the sobering truth. "Mikey, I understand you want to stop, but unfortunately, you can't simply stop it. You need nappies. If you can't control it, you need something to manage it, and that means nappies." Mikey's heart sank, the weight of reality settling heavily upon him. He had clung to the fragile notion that his bedwetting was a temporary setback, a hurdle he could overcome. But Alison's words shattered that illusion, leaving him with little choice but to try and accept his newfound reliance on nappies. With a firm yet commanding tone, Alison instructed Mikey to go upstairs to his room. He hesitated for a moment, his apprehension still lingering, but he eventually complied, trudging up the stairs with a heavy heart. Each step seemed to echo the weight of his unease. As Mikey entered his room, he was greeted by the overwhelming sight of countless boxes filled with nappies. The Betterdry packaging displayed a large nappy on the front of the pack, only serving to remind him of the nature of their contents. The room seemed to shrink beneath the weight of the supplies, the walls closing in as if to emphasise his regression, while amplifying his anxiety. Alison followed closely behind, her gaze fixed on Mikey's every movement. She directed him to start opening the boxes and unloading the nappies, her voice now laced with a hint of authority. It was a task designed not only to organise the room but also to further solidify the idea of Mikey's dependence. "Mikey, we need to create some space in here," Alison said, her tone firm but tinged with an underlying sense of purpose. "You need to start clearing some items out so we can make room for your nappies." Mikey's brow furrowed as he surveyed the room, unsure of what he could remove. He glanced at his belongings, contemplating which possessions he could part with. The thought of letting go of cherished items struck a chord within him, a reminder that his autonomy was slipping away. His frustration seeped into his voice as he turned to Alison, his tone laced with resentment. "Why did you order so many? It's your fault if there is not enough space," he protested, his words dripping with a mix of anger and exasperation. "Can't we store them somewhere else? They don't need to be in my room." Alison's response was swift, her words holding a hint of finality. "No, Mikey," she replied, her voice steady and unwavering. "They need to be in your room. They are your nappies so they need to be in here. I'll give you a few days to sort it otherwise I'll decide what stays and goes" Mikey clenched his fists, a surge of frustration coursing through his veins. It felt as if his protests were falling on deaf ears, as if he had no say in his own life. The fact that Alison answered his questions in such a frank and rational manner only served to make him feel even worse, as it was hard to argue with the logic of her responses. And then, in a moment that seemed incongruous with the strict demeanour she had displayed thus far, Alison turned to Mikey with a soft, compassionate gaze. Her voice softened, her words imbued with a tenderness that momentarily caught him off guard. "Mikey, do you know why I ordered the nappies online?" she asked softly. He shook his head, confused at where she was going with this line of question. "I ordered the nappies online to spare you the embarrassment of having to buy them in a store," she explained, her tone gentle and understanding. It was a statement that held a hint of truth, a carefully woven thread of manipulation designed to elicit gratitude from Mikey. And, in that moment, his anger waned, replaced by a subtle sense of guilt. He looked at Alison, his eyes welling with a mixture of remorse and gratitude. "I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I appreciate the thought behind it." Alison nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips. She had managed to twist the situation once again, redirecting Mikey's emotions to align with her own intentions. In his gratitude, he had momentarily forgot the larger implications of his newfound dependence, focusing instead on the relief that he had been spared a potential source of embarrassment of having to buy the nappies in public. The room was filled with the rustling sound of plastic, as Mikey resumed his task of unpacking the nappies. The Betterdry boxes began to diminish, their contents slowly finding their place within the room. And with each unpacked nappy, Mikey's acceptance of his new reality grew deeper, as did his reliance on Alison. Mikey's mind whirled with confusion as he observed the sheer quantity of nappies that now occupied his room. His eyes swept across the neatly stacked boxes, calculating that there must have been at least 60 packs, each containing 15 nappies. A quick mental arithmetic confirmed his suspicion — approximately 900 nappies. Nine hundred days of nappies. Nearly three years' worth. He shivered as he realised that he would be nearly 21 by the time he had used all of the nappies, if he wore them every night. She had ordered far more than he could possibly need for his bedwetting issue alone. Why had she ordered so many? He couldn't help but voice his question, as he remained oblivious to Alison's covert plan to gradually immerse him in a life of perpetual nappies. "Why did you order so many nappies?" Mikey asked, his voice tinged with curiosity and a hint of disbelief. "I mean, there must be hundreds here. I don't think I'll need that many, even if I wear them every night for the next twelve months." A flicker of satisfaction danced across Alison's face, her eyes gleaming with a hidden agenda. She had anticipated Mikey's question and relished the opportunity to solidify her intentions. With a calculated smile, she leaned in closer to him, her voice laced with a mix of assurance and determination. "Mikey, I understand your concerns, but this is not a temporary solution," Alison replied, her tone purposeful and resolute. "This is a permanent thing, and you need to get used to it. Ordering in bulk is more cost-effective, and trust me, you'll be surprised at how quickly you go through them." A surge of apprehension surged through Mikey's veins. The notion that this was a long-term arrangement, that he would be reliant on nappies for an extended period, rattled his core. He had clung to the hope that his bedwetting would diminish with time, but Alison's words shattered that glimmer of optimism. "But... if these are just for my bedwetting...... I don't understand," Mikey protested, his voice laced with uncertainty and a tinge of desperation. "I can't imagine needing this many nappies. It feels excessive. There's no way I'll use all of these." Alison's smile widened subtly, masking her true intentions. She knew that Mikey's resistance stemmed from a limited perspective, one that failed to grasp the full extent of her plans. She took a step closer, lowering her voice to a soft, persuasive whisper. "Mikey, it's much cheaper to buy them in bulk," Alison explained, her tone gently coaxing. "Trust me, you'll be surprised at how quickly you find yourself going through them and you never know how things will develop" Reluctantly, Mikey nodded, a mixture of resignation and trepidation clouding his expression. The reality was sinking in, his mind grappling with the understanding that his days of independence were slipping away, replaced by a new era of reliance on Alison's control.

I do have some spread around the house a bit. The best 'find' I had was finding an unopened pack of the old style Bambino Classico's from when they first started making them. I still have ONE diaper left from that pack. My wife...on the other hand...has found my diapers in different cupboards around the house and always asks 'How many diapers do you NEED?' Fun times.

Here's the second to last chapter! The final chapter is almost completely written, but I will be busy over the next few days. Keeping that in mind, while I will try to post it earlier, the final chapter may not be posted until Monday. This would be the latest, but I just wanted to let everyone know here at this point. Additionally, I just wanted to note for this chapter that while most songs or books that I add are merely to flesh out the world that everyone has created with the Diaper Dimension, the last story in here is actually an excerpt from something that I'm currently writing. I thought that it would be an interesting concept to write and illustrate a book for Littles for everyone to enjoy. I have everything written out with it, but the artwork is taking the most amount of time to complete. While I would have loved for it to be completed in December, I feel that I would have to essentially stop writing my stories for that to be the case. As such, I might occasionally pop an update here every once in a while to let you all know. Anyway, I hope everyone enjoys this next and second to last chapter! Chapter 14: Session 42 I unwrapped my delicate and moist cupcake that a coworker had given me. A singular candle with the number, ’42,’ had been stuck in the top and had been lit. “Cheers everyone to session 42.” I held the vanilla and white frosting cupcake up and cheered the video recording before blowing the flame out. “Today, I have been informed by the original testers monitoring both Joy and Ron that this will be the last recording. I will still need to discuss future matters with members of the Board at the conclusion of all this, but I believe the results of the project will have been verified as an absolute success in this instance at the very least by then.” I then flipped on one of the nearby monitors to a scene yesterday from just after Ron had awoken and Joy had been feeding and cuddling him in the rocking chair once again. “As you can see, the original instance of breastfeeding continues to be no fluke. While Ron expressed shame and a deep embarrassment the next day, as predicted, the milk provided just enough of an initial impetus that he agreed to try it again. Based on the notes from this morning before the highlighted section of the recording I am about to watch, Ron’s protests have dwindled to perhaps only a second of hesitation now.” I then stood up as I smacked my lips after consuming the last bit of my scrumptious cupcake. “As previously stated, today will be the last session of observation for Project Nurture with subjects 90876A and 90876B.” The RealET system then hummed to life and began to follow Ron as he ambled about the main play area with Ashley. “While all avenues of success have practically been reached at this juncture, for the sake of science and posterity, I should note that Ron seemed highly upset after daycare a few days ago. By now, this could have meant that someone tried to take Louie, he was just too tired, wasn’t able to go outside for the day, or something of the sort, but it still piqued my curiosity. As such, I will monitor the situation at daycare more closely today and note all interactions and events to check and see if something was amiss just in case he became upset afterward once again. While I doubt such a situation would, I would hate for something to derail the project at this final juncture.” Ron once again toddled over to their group at daycare of the more regressed Littles. The daycare had shifted yet again, and new candidates had come in as part of another experiment testing various products of different formulations of something called ‘Tabers Milk.’ ‘Definitely need to do more research into that whole product line… feels fishy…’ In Ron’s group, Simon, Kyle, and the twins were about the same as usual, but Marilyn had become much more docile in recent weeks. Unfortunately, she was one of the few elements of the project which I had to deem as a partial failure. While she had been regressed per the project’s standards, her willfully bratty attitude had caught up with her and multiple hypnosis sessions after her ‘strike threes’ had changed her personality drastically. While still verbal and mostly coherent, she now spent most of her days quietly combing her now constantly held doll’s hair or listening to songs, videos, or stories with only a wide smile on her face. Further tests were needed to see what was happening, but her mommy seemed to be okay with the fact that her Little had been slightly ‘overcooked’ as the lab techs termed it. That, however, wasn’t the biggest news. Now, Ashley had joined their group as well. As predicted, Ashley had spent more time with both Kyle and Ron in and out of daycare. While no other direct methods by the project were used to force her to regress, gentle encouragements and the sheer joy exhibited by her two friends had been too much to resist for very long. It is my belief that this, along with her abandonment issues from the Littles she had previously interacted with and subsequently lost, finally pushed through some of the training we had initially instilled in her. As such, she now wore a fall-themed long sleeve shirt underneath an adorable brown corduroy dress, complete with a small pumpkin applique over the front pocket. The addition of her pigtails and discernable wet diaper just added to her new appearance. “What’s wrong, Ash?” Ron asked, popping his pacifier out after noticing his friend had been uncomfortably squirming for a bit. “I… I… had an accident…” she sorrowfully admitted. “Oh,” Ron said casually but understandingly. “That’s okay. That’s why you’re wearing diapies like the rest of us now. That’s supposed to happen. Besides, it won’t be long before you won’t even notice you’ve gone pee-pee.” Ron had begun to pick up a few of the local terms for various objects, emotions, or states of being. It wasn’t part of his regression, but when asked by Joy about it, he compared it more to using a form of ‘street lingo and a type of slang.’ I don’t know if she fully believed that, but it had been satisfactory enough for her to not ask about it any further. “And that’s a good thing?” Ashley asked with a hint of disbelief. “Absolutely!” Kyle said enthusiastically as he added his two cents from behind the two of them. He had a bad habit of popping up behind them and randomly adding his own opinions. Ron didn’t care but I could see start to grate on Ashley a bit. “Right.” Ron then patted her shoulder in sympathy, likely remembering when he experienced the same sensations not too long ago. “Remember, embarrassment only hurts. We’re all Littles. No one cares about that stuff except for you. In the end, you’re just hurting yourself. I mean, it’s okay to not feel comfortable, but just know, we’ve all been there and we’re all in a much happier place with where we are now.” Ashley slowly nodded in acceptance of her friend’s wisdom. It was just one more instance that added to the growing pile of things that Ron had been helping her out with on her own newly refreshed regression journey. Through his guidance, Ashely had finally bent to the project, and I was extremely pleased that she might yet still be considered a success in due time. After the whole group went down for their afternoon nap, Ashley now included, diapers were swiftly changed, and the Littles were ushered outside. Per Ashley’s and a few other Little’s clothing designs, Fall had had come swiftly into the area and many of the trees had begun to change. It was a wonderful time of year for Littles, and I was slightly saddened to know that my sessions wouldn’t be covering this time of year with most of them. Still, it was a beautiful day, and the Littles were enjoying themselves quite thoroughly. “Leave him inside!” Kyle insisted to Ron as he began to take Louie outside. Ron tried to protest, “But…” “No buts here! Keep him inside. Tell him Miss Fiona!” Miss Fiona stopped ushering the Littles outside and looked at the scene before her with the two Littles and the stuffy in question. “Kyle’s right, Ron. Louie should stay inside. I can put him right in the window for you to see, but if you take him outside now, he’ll probably get all dirty and you won’t be able to play with him when you get back inside, or cuddle with him later. So, can I put him in the window for you?” Ron looked at Louie with his usual large, sad eyes, quickly gave him a hug, and then handed him off to Miss Fiona with a fair amount of regret already forming in his words and actions. “Here… take him…” Miss Fiona smiled and patted the Little on the head before placing Louie in front of one of the windows facing the back area. Ron’s lower lip quivered a bit, but Kyle quickly pulled him outside to join an awaiting Ashley. Hoping to distract their friend, Ashley and Kyle then brought him over to the currently free sandbox to begin working on their creations once again. As a further distraction, Ron then popped his clipped-on and nearly ever-present pacifier into his mouth. It seemed to work and soon, formations began to take shape in the sand before the three small Littles. During that time, a formation of its own kind had quickly deposited itself in the seat of Ron’s diapers. It didn’t take long for the still new Ashley to start sniffing the air. As both Kyle and Ron were now wearing rompers today, it didn’t take long to notice the significant bulge that had appeared on Ron’s rear end. “Uh, Ron… I think you had an… accident…” Ron then looked up and wiggled his butt around. Ashley looked like she wanted to gag at the sight before her, but it was just another day for the now more regressed Little. As predicted once again, the breastmilk had gone to work fast and drinking it in some form at least three times a day had given Ron’s poop an unpredictability that essentially rendered any of his remaining muscle control as practically numb. “Huh. I guess I am kinda poopy. Oh well,” he said nonchalantly. Ashley sat with a shocked look on her face and Ron quickly noticed. “What? I told you that caring doesn’t do you any good. I can cry all I want but an adult will eventually change me. I couldn’t control it at all, so why make a fuss at this point?” Ron then shifted slightly once more but then stared at Ashley’s crotch. She immediately noticed the intrusion. “Hey! Eyes up here, mister!” Ron blushed heavily. “Sorry, sorry. Just wanted to confirm my suspicions. Ash… you know you’re wet yourself, right?” “I’m…?” Ashley then quickly yanked up her dress and fully revealed her now clearly wet diaper. She hadn’t been placed into the thicker versions that Kyle and Ron now wore, so her usage was much more readily apparent. Likely, another wetting would have resulted in a disastrous leak. “Very wet, I’d say,” Kyle said, now noticing the state of her diaper as well. Ashley blushed as she slowly covered her diaper up once more with her dress. “Don’t worry about it,” Ron coaxed. “Instead, worry about what you do in the sand. Much more interesting in the long run.” The three then finished their sand creations and stood back and looked at each of them in judgment. Ashley’s was by far the most detailed and accurate, being a portrait of a woman that she had seen on the bus with her Daddy the other day. In most competitions, she would win, but amongst Littles, the stories were just as equally important. Both Kyle’s and Ron’s could possibly be guessed at as to what they were, but their stories were also intricate tales of love and loss and conquerors. “How about a tie?” Kyle finally suggested after no one could reach a conclusion as to who had won. “Agreed,” Ashley followed. “Agreed…” Ron accepted hesitantly. Then, his face lit up with an idea. “Monsters and city wreckers?” The two other Littles then nodded eagerly and all three went to one side of the large sandbox where their portraits and cityscapes now lay. “Alright. Three, two, one! Rage!” Kyle cried out. The three, giving their best monster impressions then began to stomp through the works or arts and cities in front of them. In a matter of seconds, ‘Portrait of a Waiting Woman,’ the city of Gadzorp, and the capitol building in downtown Yuckmuck were all destroyed. Afterward, all three then forgot about their worries of anything else in life and began to roll around in the grass while laughing hysterically. It was the sound of freedom and happiness that could only be achieved when the small victories mattered the most and the burdens of your life didn’t seem as big anymore. Somehow, I doubted that any of the three could have achieved the same feeling without our project. ‘But maybe I’m just biased at this point?’ After a moment, the three stopped rolling around and just laid on the grass, not caring one way or another about their used diapers or the fact that anyone could clearly see them as such. “You know,” Ashley began, “I’m just glad I have two friends here that won’t make fun of me regressing…” “We would never, Ash!” Ron said, hoping to assuage his friend of his sincerity. “Yeah. Besides, look at us. We can’t really judge you ourselves,” Kyle said gesturing towards himself and Ron. Today, the pacifiers attached to their patterned onesies certainly didn’t seem like something a non-regressed Little would ever be proud of. “Maybe… but still. I thought I started to make some friends in the other group, but when I began to regress… they called me a… baby,” she whispered as if it was a dirty word. Ron then immediately hugged his friend and Kyle quickly joined in. “Hey… they suck dirty diapers. Forget them. You’re truly with us now. Besides, being Little isn’t so bad.” “Yep!” Kyle added. “Being a Little is just the best!” “So true, buddy,” Ron agreed. “Anyways, Ash, we’re all just a bunch of silly Littles. Who are we going to make fun of by now?” As Ashley pondered the notion, I could see Ron sense that he had an open opportunity. “Besides… they can’t do a… tickle attack! Now!” Ron and Kyle then lunged at Ashley and began to tickle her until every ounce of sadness had left her face. Her diaper visibly grew a bit wetter as well and she blushed deeply, but Ron and Kyle just laughed. It wasn’t long before Ashley went back to laughing as well. Not long after the three were changed, with the day being so nice out, outside time had been extended right up until it was at that point for everyone to be picked up. After a quick buckling in his car seat, Joy once again took off for their home and began to ask about his day. Taking advantage of the still nice weather back home, Joy then allowed Ron to continue to play in their backyard. As a test, she had yet to clean up the accidental water spillage that had occurred back there and the subsequent mud pile it had created. Hesitating, Ron halted before stepping foot into the highly muddied backyard. Joy noticed. “If you’re worried about getting your clothes all dirty, you don’t need to wear them if you don’t want. It’s not too cold yet…” It was another test for her own clarity of where her Little was at and while Ron paused for a moment, he quickly turned around and held his arms wide. “Off, please!” Joy smiled and then helped remove his socks and shoes first as he balanced against her, before then removing his romper altogether. Standing there for a moment before making the final plunge, Joy hadn’t seen any embarrassment or hesitation over the whole matter, even as her Little now stood there in just his thick and clearly partially wet diaper. “Yipppee!” Ron shouted moments later when he then began to dance about the mud pile. The fudge-like mess oozed and splattered all around him and in between every exposed crack and crevice. Ron was a mess of the highest order and even his once nearly pearly white diaper had become completely camouflaged behind all the filth. Satisfied, Joy went back inside to start preparing dinner for that night, still watching him on the monitors she had recently installed all around the house and in his nursery. Once the timer had been set and the fish for tonight’s dinner had been placed in the oven, Joy went back outside. “Ron! Bath time!” she called out. Ron looked a little disappointed but then quickly marched back over to go inside. “Woah there, mister! Where do you think you’re going?” “But… inside… you said…” “I said bath time, but not to go inside. Look at yourself, baby. You’re a mess!” Joy chuckled. Ron then looked down and giggled at the mess that he saw. “Now, just stand still and this should just be a moment.” Ron did as he was instructed and stood still, even as Joy found and then swiftly removed his diaper. Their backyard had been fenced in, but as public changes had become more frequent, Ron’s nudity had become a thing of being regarded as a ‘whatever’ in his life. Satisfied with the progress of her Little in all ways, Joy then got him to back up a bit and then turn around as she sprayed him down with a hose. Still smelling like mud and a few of the crannies being all shades of brown, Joy then wrapped him in an easily cleaned towel and dumped him in the bath she had waiting upstairs. Soon, fresh smelling and truly clean, Joy plucked him out of the water and quickly rediapered him and placed him in a footed pair of pajamas with a single patch of Jasper and Jinx sewn on. Ron had begged Joy to watch the show, but she had made sure that he only viewed the non-hypnotic version. Still, he had become quickly hooked, liking it almost as much as his beloved Adventure Sam. Back downstairs, Joy then served their fish dinner with an assortment of vegetables and potatoes. As usual, Ron sat in his highchair and was quickly fed his portion of the food. He waited quietly while Joy finished her own and after a quick wash of the dishes, both made their way back upstairs. As had become routine, Joy cradled her Little in the rocking chair and unlatched her bra. Without any hesitation now, Ron quickly began to nurse. As after the first, Joy then began to pat him on his back after he had finished up his second round of filling of breastmilk. He burped a bit and then was cradled in her arms as he slowly returned from his quick milk coma. Joy only smiled as she felt his diaper warm beneath her. “There he is,” she cooed as Ron’s eyes began to focus a bit more. “There’s my little baby boy!” Her babytalk had caused Ron to squirm in embarrassment at first, but now, he just smiled in contentment. After a few more moments, Ron shifted in her arms and began to sit up with an oddly serious look on his face. “You know… I wanted to say something to you… for a little bit now.” “Oh?” Joy asked with curiosity. “Yeah… I just wanted to thank you for all this…” Joy opened her mouth to reciprocate the thanks, but Ron just held his hand up. I leaned forward at this strange turn of events. ‘Why am I getting a pit in my stomach?’ Ron then took a breath and started to speak once more. “I… I don’t know how to say this, but I guess, like a band-aid…” Ron then sighed and took another large breath. I could feel my heart pounding from the suspense. “I just want to thank you for choosing and staying with me for this experiment…” ‘What!’ My mind swirled with all the implications. Surely, we would be doomed now. My true pride and joy and the jewel of this project was now ruined. ‘Crap and double crap! How long had he known? Who told him? Is the Board going to make me just disappear. Crap! They were talking again!’ “…w… what are you t… talking about? Ex… experiment?” Joy tried to deny as her voice began to shake. “Joy… please…. I know, okay?” Ron pleaded resolutely. “The truth… please.” Joy blinked in pure shock for a moment. “How long have you known?” she then finally asked gravely, looking just as concerned as I was, if not even more. Her hands shook and I could almost see a faint hint of sweat form on her brow. I couldn’t blame her. “Please, Joy. Take a breath.” She now did as she was instructed. ‘Why wasn’t he pissed? Oh, crap again! Is this the thing where people are all accepting and then end up snapping and killing their tormentor? Oh no! What if I was sent these two subjects because it shows just what NOT to do?’ “Well, to answer your question… Ashley told me about some of the files she found in her Daddy’s office one day. She was really curious and then told me to kind of talk it out I guess.” Ron sighed. “To be honest, by then, I was already suspicious of some of the things going on around here.” Ron paused and looked at himself, having now shifted to face Joy while still perched on her knee in the rocking chair. “I mean, even a Little doesn’t just start wetting themselves and everything else. Reading even a few books that aren’t pure propaganda will tell you that, so I was already on edge. Ash just gave me the final piece of the puzzle that I didn’t even think to look for.” “Wha…” Ahem. “What are you going to do… now… or to me?” Joy asked fearfully. One Little had killed their whole adoptive family last year. It was a grizzly scene and maybe even in some ways justified, but Ron’s revelation today was likely Joy’s worst nightmare. I could see one set of her fingernails digging into her own hand. Ron let out a small laugh, but not in cruelty. It almost felt like the same laugh that Daisy had used when Ron had asked if she was going to give him a lobotomy. ‘Did he know then?’ “Ha! You know, when I first found out… I wanted to burn everything to the ground,” he said, suddenly all seriously once more. “And I mean everything…” Ron and I both noticed Joy immediately tense up. “But… I didn’t.” It was now Joy’s turn to break down. “Oh my god! Please forgive me, Ron! I’m so sorry! I… I…” Joy then started to heave in and out as Ron had done himself a hundred times by now at least. It likely didn’t help that Joy knew that he knew that she was to blame for all that in the first place. “Easy, easy,” Ron said gently, now stroking her thigh and arm where his reach would let him. He was far less effective than Joy had been, but his touch was more than a thousand times more impactful. For him to even still be here was a minor miracle. For him to show her affection was something else entirely that I could scarcely believe with my own eyes. Joy looked up at him with tears. “I’m so sorry… I… I just wanted what’s best for you, but…” Joy then looked ashamed. “Maybe for me as well…” Ron then got the weirdest smile plastered all over his face. “I see… I appreciate your honesty.” He then sighed. “Well though, if it’s honesty time, then I suppose I better confess myself as well.” He took a large breath in and then continued. “You see… what you did to me was terrible. Vicious! Insane and criminal in most civilized places.” Joy winced at each accusation, clearly knowing full-well of their validity in each case. “However, what you did… probably also saved me…” Joy’s wincing and clenched eyes immediately vanished, and she stared unblinking at Ron for more of an explanation. Ron took the hint and then sighed. “My life was going down the drain anyway… I know you have my file, but from what I could see from what Ash told me, it doesn’t talk about a lot of my life… Just the basic stuff really.” Ron then scratched his head and sighed again. “I was a borderline alcoholic and I had just split from my wife after she had been cheating on me with one of my coworkers.” ‘That stuff was definitely not in his file!’ Joy looked horrified and I couldn’t blame her. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry bab… Ron.” “Yeah… thank you… it wasn’t great, but I thought I could get through it by coming here, so I guess in some kind of weird way, I did…” Joy immediately looked hopeful, but Ron noticed quickly. “But you should still feel guilty! My bad life or someone else’s isn’t an excuse for you all to just run all over them and do what you please. For a civilization that touts its civilized culture, that’s just downright barbaric.” Joy dropped her head in shame and just nodded in acceptance over what he was saying. Seeing Ron and all the other Littles through this process had honestly changed me and it was hard to disagree with his sentiment over our society. “That being said… the ways in which you all went about it…” he continued warily, “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I almost feel that I’m better off in most ways like this.” Joy raised her eyebrows in shock and curiosity. “Yeah… as I said, hard to believe, but stop and think for a minute about it all through my eyes.” Joy clearly thought for the requested moment. “Go on…” she encouraged, though still sounding as if a stiff breeze could fell her in one puff. “Well, my old life was going nowhere fast. Here at least, I have more friends, I’m healthier,” he paused. “I have someone who cares about me…” Joy’s eyes brightened in seconds after that last one. Ron had just given her hope and I prayed for everyone’s sake that it was just enough of a spark to catch. My hopes dimmed a bit though when her eyes then wordlessly pointed out his diaper and her own still-visible maternity bra. “Yeah… some elements would be great to not have gone through, but maybe… maybe those are just the caveats one has to accept to be part of this world… this project…” The two sat in silence for a moment and I could barely hear my own thoughts over the sound of my anxious and pounding heart. It seemed that the entire program now stood on the edge of a knife. With at least two knowledgeable Littles… part of everything felt like it could be ruined in one second. Finally, a near expressionless Joy then looked up from her own thoughts. “So, what do you want to do now? Do you have a plan?” Ron seemed to ponder the gravity of what this Big was now asking him. The entire balance of the project and much of my life’s work now seemed to hinge on his very next words. I never believed that a Little could have so much power over so much, but Ron seemed to be proving the exception. Finally though, he took a breath in and spoke. “I’m staying.” The instantaneous relief was evident all over Joy’s face. Her body seemed to twitch to reach out and hug her Little, but she wisely used restraint at this juncture in this new phase of their relationship. Her outward reserve was admirable, and I doubted that I could have done the same under the same or even similar circumstances. “I promise that I will try and make this up to you for the rest of our lives together…” she said sincerely. Ron smiled and took her hand gently. “You already do so much for me… I’m sorry it had to go this way to begin with, but I can’t argue with how happy I’ve become here in the most unexpected ways.” Ron looked away for a second and then got a sinister grin on his face. “However, if you’re offering for ways to make all this up to me…” Joy leaned forward anxiously. “Yes?” “A story tonight and ice cream for desert tomorrow night would be a good start,” he said with a chuckle and gleam of giddy power in his eyes. Joy smiled and let out a tiny laugh of her own. “I can definitely do that…” Joy then suddenly looked panicked, more so than she even had when Ron first revealed that he knew about the project. “Wait… read to you…? Can you not? I told those criminals at the project to let you keep that skill. Did they not? Oh my god! I’m going to march right over there and…” “Easy, easy,” Ron said trying to calm down the seething Big before him. “I can still read. Relax. I just…” Ron blushed a little. “I want you to do it tonight…” Joy’s tension immediately dissipated. “Me? Uh, can I ask why the change?” Ron nodded. “Well, yesterday… when we were playing downstairs… you used voices… I liked that, and I figured… maybe you could do the same tonight for one of the books? Start a tradition maybe?” Ron asked cutely. Joy smiled tenderly at the notion. “I’d like that very much…” Ron smiled back and then settled back into the comfort of Joy’s body sitting in the rocking chair. She seemed tense at first as if all this was a trick, but her knowing Little just laid there as if nothing had happened. Clearly, whatever feelings of anger or resentment that Ron had, were already beginning to be resolved. Now it seemed, he just needed time. Resolute in the fact that Ron was true in his contentment, Joy then pulled out a large colorful picture book that Olly had recommended last week on one of Ron’s and his playdates, called ‘The Little and His Friends Find Some Treasure.’ Joy however, then looked down at another book that she had picked up herself as well before opening the pages to start reading. She seemed apprehensive and even I didn’t know what book she was looking at. “Ron… I know with you finding out about the project and all… this might not seem like the best time to ask… but…” She then looked away, seemingly unable to continue with her question. “What? Please tell me,” Ron eagerly coaxed. “I know all that was a lot to unpack in one go, but I’m still here and I’m not going anywhere. I know things are different in some ways, but my feelings for you are the same… maybe even greater now that I actually know everything and all you’ve done for me.” He paused. “At this point… I know I could have ended far worse than to be with someone who legitimately just wants what’s best for me. It might not be enough for everyone, but it is for me…” The words seemed to be just what Joy needed to hear and a tiny snuggle afterward from Ron only seemed to give her the confidence to continue. “Okay… well, you’re a Little and I’m a Big… I don’t think that’s in question at all by now.” “Right…” “And I take care of you… Hence, caretaker…” “Yes… just ask. Please,” Ron begged in anticipation. Joy sighed. “What if I was more than your… caretaker. Would you… do you want me to be your… mommy?” The words had kind of tumbled out of Joy more than she had clearly wanted them to and they just hung in the air for a moment. I suspected that Ron could almost hear the tympanic pounding of Joy’s nervous heart with each second that passed. After a moment of this tense near standoff, Ron spoke. “I honestly thought you were…” Joy instantly looked relieved but then apologetic for seemingly even had asked the question in the first place. It was in her right to ask for that type of clarity, but now, Ron looked so empty and almost as if he had just been rejected outright by the insinuation of the question at all. “I’m so sorry, Ron… I just… I didn’t want to assume. Especially after… well, all that you found out…” Joy quibbled, her guilt coming through in waves now. Now, I could see Ron knew he needed to take the first step in their new phase of their relationship. Joy had been on too much of an emotional rollercoaster and her still unanswered question was clearly proving too much for her to handle to continue to initiate the conversation further. In a second though, Ron took the plunge. “It’s okay… mommy…” Joy’s heart looked like it had just then exploded, and her instincts took over and she quickly hugged her Little, permission now or not. “Oh, baby. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have no idea how good that sounds… how much I’ve wanted to hear you say that!” Ron smiled as he was all nicely wrapped up in her embrace and quickly reciprocated, clearly not minding anymore over the contact between the two. “Yeah… just feels… good.” The hug lasted for a few more moments and then Joy backed out of it first. “You know… to make it official… I think we should go down to the courthouse in the morning tomorrow. Would that be, okay?” Ron thought for a moment, but then nodded his head at the suddenness of the entire situation. “That sounds wonderful… mommy.” Joy beamed in utter contentment, but then set the book down. Ron immediately looked at his new mommy in confusion. “Now, I know Olly recommended that book, and I’ll still read it to you tonight, but I figured you might like another one instead first.” Ron leaned over and saw the book that his mommy was now picking up, titled, ‘Mommy Does.’ “I figured this one might be a bit more appropriate considering everything between us, if that’s okay of course...” Ron just eagerly nodded, and Joy calmly opened the book. The first page was an obviously unregressed Little standing in a city all alone with several scary looking Bigs all around them. “In a far-off land or maybe one close to you, a whole world exists just like yours too. People come and go as they all please, but some aren’t willing to pay the fees. You’re there now in some far away town, but sadly, all can see your tears and frown. This world is hard and people snide, so let these few words be your guide.” Joy then turned the page to a Little in prison clothes and Ron squirmed uncomfortably at what might have been his fate if Joy and the project hadn’t come into his life. “Some want to get you and take you away, lock the key and regress you anyway.” The next page was just as bad as it showed a judge reciting several rules to the same scared Little. “People will force you to obey all the laws, but do you know who wants to help with your cause?” Ron gripped his hands in nervousness over what awaited on the next page. Joy flipped the page one more time and fortunately, there, kissing her Little all over, was a beautiful woman who was obviously the Little’s mommy. “Never fret because… Mommy does! Mommy will capture you as she never misses, but only to give you some hugs and some kisses.” Mimicking the page, Joy then started to playfully hug and kiss Ron all over. No longer showing the same dread he had only moments before, Ron burst into a fit of giggles. “Mommy! Stop! Keep reading. I love you too!” Joy immediately stopped and then smiled the widest I think I had ever seen her at the sound of those few and cherished words. “I love you too, baby…” Ron quickly nodded and cuddled tightly into his new mommy. Joy only smiled warmly and held her Little closer as she flipped the next page on both the book and their lives together. I then reached forward and turned off the recording. I felt a single tear brush down my cheek. What could have ended in total disaster ended up working out perfectly. All goals were now accomplished and the bond between the two was so strong that even the revelation of the truth had not seemed to matter by the end. It was a true success story of Project Nurture, and I knew I just had to show it to the Board. Ultimately, they were my own true final obstacle to a perfect success of everything that had come before. * * * The RealET system then stopped, and the Board Members all backed out and leaned back in their seats. “So, what did everyone think of what they just saw?”

I'm working away on Chapter 3, don't you worry. Just taking a bit longer than I'd like. IRL stuff doesn't leave me with as much time to write as I would like, unfortunately.

- Severe / Total incontinence. - Squirts, small bladder releases. - No awareness of having to pee. Total amnesia. - Heavy wetting with infrequent pee dreams. - Permanent. - Mild/ occasional bowel incontinence. - Yes.

Interesting... I'm still pretty burnt out from burning through the last NON-CONtest, but I might try my hand at a one-shot for this. Might be beneficial to be able to manage scope creep...

I'm not sure what you're asking, but I suspect I'm open to all stories. If you have a student and teacher relationship I suspect that qualifies.

@Kevin140 Thank you for the feedback! Also you can make additional tweaks through the advanced settings (Settings>Installation>Advanced). Happy wetting!

?Well you got it! Here's the second part! Chapter 12B: I SAT GLUED to the article I was reading discussed the ‘necessity’ of feeding littles a diet of only breastmilk. The credentials Ivy held for the hospital gave me access to the local Emerson University Medical Library Catalog. Online they held hundreds of medical journals that you could view, and I’d been going through several of one pediatric journal’s last decade of publications over the last six days since my accident in front of the TV. Many close calls later I had managed to make it seven days past my first accident without having another. Ivy had reminded me that morning that I had gained another strike to have, since a week had passed since my first. Having two chances available again didn’t make me feel a whole lot better though that morning. Not long after I ate breakfast I had just about crapped my pants before getting to the toilet. For some reason my bowels were feeling looser every day. That was in addition barely any warning on needing to pee from my bladder! I had myself on a strict alarm of trying to go every thirty minutes to make sure that I didn’t have accidents. ‘Sort of self-potty-training boot camp,’ I had thought when I started. Looking back at the article I wondered if I hadn’t identified the reason for my continence issues. Dietary Studies for Best Practices with New Littles Dr. Mark Nimitz, Professor Emerson University, Director of Little Care at EU Children’s Hospital As more Littles begin to travel from the other dimension to ours, we are seeing an influx of littles that are way more independent than our native littles. The effects of our adult food upon their digestive system seems to have negative consequences of severe constipation, allergic reactions, and poor weight control. This study compared four hundred newly arrived littles from a dimensional relocations agency who were split into four groups, a control group, pureed food, formula only, and breastfed only. The Formula and Pureed groups were given the same brands and volumes each feeding, while logs of the control groups' meals were kept and analyzed for nutritional information. Regular reporting of urine and bowel movement data, as well as analysis of the consistency of fecal movements were made daily for twelve weeks. Daily weight and body temperature values were also collected. Caregivers were asked to also report on their littles apparent continence, or lack thereof, as the study progressed. Data was analyzed with a chi-squared test. Overwhelming results demonstrated that Breastfed littles were better adjusted in using their diapers as they lost their continence and reported far fewer cases of Constipation (Charts below). Conclusion: Littles arriving from the new dimension are far healthier, better adjusted, and ready to be cared for if they are breastfed. Care should be taken when using Formula as a substitute for Breast Milk due to a significant increase of cases of constipation. Regular laxatives and suppositories should be administered if a little is Formula Fed. Pureed baby food is also considered a better value for dietary needs over regular adult table foods. I found myself moving past the abstract, and began pouring through the data of the study. As I did so I had a sickening thought, ‘What is this ‘Tabers’ milk she’s been feeding me?!?’ I mentally considered the name and realized that if you rearranged the letters in ‘Tabers,’ breast was an obvious anagram! When I mentally charted out my visits to the bathroom, and the growing lack of control on my part, it fit in far better with the breastfed littles than it did the formula fed littles. Given I’d been eating regular table food I should have been more in line with the data of the control group - but clearly I wasn’t. Before accusing Ivy of what now seemed obvious, I delved into several more studies on their breast milk. It seemed that it acted as a powerful sedative on littles, which would also explain my sudden fatigue I usually experienced whenever I’d had that milk. The more I read about the milk the more I also discovered that the Amazonian women had for some reason developed a crazy overwhelming lactation reflex. Study after study showed how quickly they began producing milk upon adoption of a little. In most cases medication wasn’t even required to cause it! On average a woman could just pump her breasts a week before adopting, and have her milk in before arrival. Or, if unexpected, within less than a couple days of having a little around they would also lactate. I came across a babysitter training website for teens while I was searching terms and found it was even quite common for teenage babysitters to suddenly produce milk and need to feed the ‘kids,’ they were babysitting to relieve their breasts. Apparently, this was as much of a rite of passage for teen girls here as having their first period! ‘I’ve been here over a week and a half, and based on these studies there’s no way she’s not producing…’ I thought to myself. With a sigh I remembered that she had given me the Tabers milk after a timeline that would fit with those facts too. ‘I’m being fed breast milk at least two or three times a day…’ was my thought before my potty alarm went off and I got out of the screen I was in and headed to the potty. I reached it in time to realize I really needed to pee and just barely had myself planted on the potty in time to make it. I went quite a lot, and wondered what the solution was to the mess I was in. ‘It would help if the milk tasted awful… instead it’s more addicting than alcohol!’ IVY WATCHED HOLLY run to the bathroom, and couldn’t help but feel exhausted as she found herself again emptying the little potty, washing it, and making sure Holly washed her hands in the sink. After her second accident she had figured the little girl would have had her third strike within the next day! Instead she figured out how to set an alarm on her watch to go off every thirty minutes while she was awake. ‘I just want to diaper her already,’ she admitted to herself. Every day at naptime and bedtime she loved the time she could spend carefully putting Holly into the adorable diaper after rubbing baby powder into her skin. Her milk production had also seemed to take off to new levels in the following days and she really wanted to get on with nursing her directly already! ‘The pump isn’t the same…’ She made lunch for them and decided that maybe the answer would present itself if they went out somewhere again. Holly had a voracious appetite for reading… so maybe the library? “Holly, what would you think about going to the library after your nap?” Her eyes lit up and she said, “Please?” “Okay, let’s eat lunch and get your nap in before we go,” she told the little girl who seemed to suddenly bounce with more energy. ‘I won’t ever take her ability to read away like my sister would. It’s amazing how she’s far more interested in reading than anything else. Actually, I wonder what she’s been reading today? I’ll have to check during her nap…’ Lunch didn’t take long to make or eat because she just made up some soup for both of them. Holly managed feeding herself just fine with only a few drops more than Ivy dropped on herself. She noticed her take a skeptical look at the sippy cup of milk, but still drank it like an addict once she took her first sip. “Let’s get you diapered for your nap,” she told Holly when she had stopped eating. “Okay,” came the girls’ tired response. The cup of milk seemed to have done its job just fine on that front. She undid the buckles holding Holly in the high chair and carried her to the bedroom where she lay her on top of the dresser. She’d managed to get Holly to be okay with her putting the changing pad on top of there. It made a make-shift changing table so that she didn’t have to bend down as far. She pushed the skirt of her dress back and underneath her to expose her panties that were somehow still staying dry. Lifting her ankles in one hand, she gently lifted and pulled the panties off of her and sat them on the cabinet next to her head. She quickly flipped open the diaper and placed it underneath her bottom. She loved the smell of baby powder and generously sprinkled Holly’s skin with it, rubbing it into her diaper area and a little above and below. She smiled at Holly who looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but there right then. A quick tickle to her stomach though made the smile come that she loved seeing come out. ‘I am going to make her diaper changes so much fun when she finally ends up in them!’ The changing table in her nursery had several toys set next to it to help her keep a happy little girl. ‘And a pacifier once the thumb sucking really takes hold.’ Several of the tv shows she’d been watching with Holly should have already had her doing that nearly all of the time, but she’d only seen her do it once in her sleep so far! ‘She’ll get there,’ she reminded herself as she taped the second side of Holly’s diaper closed. She picked her up and hugged her, “Have a good nap,” she told the girl who was almost already asleep. “Night,” the sleeping little yawned and seemed to be out. ‘I have to go pump now…’ she told herself with a sigh and walked out of her room and closed the door. Her output really had surprised her as she stored away bags daily into the freezer. Her freezer had enough milk to solely feed Holly on expressed milk for a few weeks - even if she gave her seven or eight bottles a day! Once she had herself cleaned up, she debated about asking Holly to wear a Pull-Up on this trip just to be safe if she had that accident. Instead she just made sure the diaper bag she was taking had a few spare diapers this time, a single Pull-Up, wipes, and two rompers that would be good for the warm temperatures that day. ‘I’m surprised though with how much Holly willingly dresses in dresses. I had expected that to be more of a problem…’ In fact, she changed out one of the rompers for a sun suit styled dress instead. It had a skirt that covered a one piece snapped bottom that would cover a diaper quite adorably when she finally ended up in them! I FOUND MYSELF waking up to the sounds of Ivy moving around my room. “Awake now?” she asked me. I felt my thumb was wet for some reason and realized it had been in my mouth while I slept. I blushed and quickly wiped it dry on my sheets as I sat up. The skirt of my dress had hiked up and I could see the diaper was very swollen and wet, “How long was I asleep?” I asked. “Two hours, pretty much like normal,” she told me. “You still want to go to the library?” “Please!” I said with a smile and scooted off the bed and walked to her. “Can you get me out of this diaper first though?” “Of course!” She said with a smile and picked me up to sit me on the cabinet. She pulled at the tapes and made a concerned face then, “This again… you have some stool in your diaper.” “I pooped myself in my sleep?” I asked concerned. “Sleep doesn’t count still, right?” I asked. She smiled, “No, sleep doesn’t count. But I’m a little worried about leaving you in a diaper overnight if this becomes normal…” She used a baby wipe then to wipe my butt excessively clean. I felt her wipe my anus firmly and blushed red. The wipe was pretty brown when she finished and wrapped the diaper into a ball. I was given my panties and walked down the hallway to the bathroom to go again before we left. “You good to go now?” She asked me when I was done tinkling just a little bit. I nodded, “Yes, please.” I let her gather me into her arms and watched her put the diaper bag on one shoulder, and soon we were in the garage. She wasted no time buckling me into the babyish car seat and driving away. I kept my eyes open and watched the road next to her as she drove. I believed we were going in the opposite direction than we had been going to shop and do anything else so far. “How far is the library?” I asked her. “Not far, just a few blocks,” she answered. Sure enough, she quickly came to a large building that had a public library sign on the outside of it. As she lifted me onto her side she asked, “Can I just carry you inside?” I nodded just as my watch beeped, “Can we go to the bathroom first?” She said, “Sure,” as she carried me towards the building and asked, “can you silence that for while we’re in here?” I understood libraries needed to be quiet so I turned the alarm off for a bit while she carried me inside. ‘I’ll just have to turn it back on when we leave,’ I told myself. She carried me to the restroom and held me over a smaller toilet that was clearly designed to be more accessible for young children. I was embarrassed that I was still a little small for it, so she held me just to be safe. After such a short drive I didn’t really need to go much, but I wasn’t taking chances! Out of the bathroom I was excited to see the rest of the building as we walked through a large circular entry way where the circulation desk sat. The outside of the building had been covered in a complex geometric pattern of glass and steel. Inside the building seemed to be a Twentieth-Century artist’s painting with the vibrant colors that emphasized the odd designs and angles throughout the building. “Where to first?” She asked me. “Non-fiction?” I suggested. “You have enough of that at home, how about something fiction wise?” I sighed, “Mysteries?” She smiled, “That sounds good!” and carried me to a wall of titles. It was tough to pull the big books down and hold me, so Ivy said, “Here, why don’t you point out six or seven titles and I’ll carry them over to a table for you to look through.” “Okay,” I told her with a smile. I browsed the covers and titles and tried to remember the last time I had been in a physical library… ‘Med school,’ I admitted. ‘And that wasn’t for fun…’ After a while we had a stack that I wanted to look through. I followed behind her as she carried them to a corner of the room that had chairs and couches. I sat down on some plush carpet next to a chair she sat in to look through them, while she did the same with a few others she was curious about. I was engrossed in checking the covers and just speed reading through the first chapters to see if I did want to check them out. Without my alarms, time passed by quickly before I decided on two of the books to check out. Just as I stood up to walk over to where Ivy sat, I felt a sudden urge and dropped the books, “Iv…” was all I got out before it happened. My stomach cramped and I froze as a slimy mess went passed uncontrollably through my sphincter, and began piling up in my panties. Simultaneously my bladder began trickling urine out. I could feel my legs become wet as the trickle became a flood, and soon a small puddle formed at my feet. Right then I felt more poop come out, and I knew without a doubt that my panties were ruined. Ivy looked up at me and quickly walked over to me. I could tell by the brightening of her eyes that my strikes were up! ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ You all were good enough that I'm giving you this tonight, and I'll give you Chapter 13 tomorrow afternoon (today depending on time zone)! Thank you for the likes/comments and indulging my fun here. (Spending a year working on this without sharing, and now 8 weeks pretty much only seeing humans via online meetings... Need to find ways to have fun!)

I lied. This is hardly the entire chapter, but given where I've stopped, there's no reason not to post it. Enjoy! ____________________________________ Chapter 13, Part 1 “What are we doing today,” Jamie asked after his breakfast or pureed fruit. It felt good to be back on something other than liquid, though he really liked the formula. Still, he missed chewing, and that was still several weeks away. “I don’t know yet,” Becky replied. “Did you have anything in mind?” “Not really.” “You’re bored, huh?” “Well, pretty much been the house since I got here, other than a couple errands.” “Well, why don’t I call Jane and see if she and Rosie want to do something with us. You can go play meanwhile.” Jamie toddled off to find Amanda, who was in the shower, apparently. Not that he’d have minded just sitting in there while she did that. Jamie didn’t think of her that way, he just enjoyed being by her side, and he didn’t have much else to do. So he went to his room and got his bear, then sat down in his chair with one of the books he got. He was surprised by it. It had, at best, young adult themes, but it was written well enough to be absorbing. “Oh, Jamie,” he heard Becky coming up the stairs. “We’re gonna go to the beach and meet Jane and Rosie. I’m going to pull our things together, and I’ll be back in a bit to get you dressed, okay?” “Okay.” Of all the places to go, the beach would have been Jamie’s last pick. Staying home sounded better. But having asked to do something different, he knew he couldn’t back out now. He liked the beach, loved it even. But here? A beach, the most public of public places. He tried to turn back to his reading, but he kept picturing himself waddling out of the water with half the ocean in his pants. “Hey! I heard you’re going to the beach.” Amanda smelled like flowers he hadn’t smelled before. “Yeah,” he feigned some enthusiasm.” “Can I come?” “Of course!” “Mom’s getting a bunch of stuff ready. How about I get you dressed?” Amanda started rooting through the closet. “Ok … what am I gonna wear to the beach?” “Well, I figured this would be a good chance to break out the sailor suit. I mean, we were gonna save it for a religious holidays and christening ships, but now that think on it, that’s just dumb. If you can’t wear a sailor suit to the beach, you might as well just have the hat and not the suit, right?” Jamie knew when he was being put on. It actually made him feel good. Kids don’t get sarcasm; it’s mean to be sarcastic with kids. That Amanda would joke this way with him just showed she respected him. “Unless you’d like to wear something else …?” “Um, how about a bathing suit and a t-shirt?” “That’s what I like about you, Jamie. You’re stylish yet understated. Let’s get you changed.” She lifted him on the changing table, and he held up his arms by instinct. She unzipped his sleeper, and as she put in the hamper he reclined on the pad. The few minutes of time without a diaper he got each day were pleasant for him. Just feeling air where he rarely felt it was nice, and that the time coincided with baths, which he also loved, and with Amanda paying such gentle attention to him was extra special. Wanting a toilet to use above anything else, he been timing his voiding for when Amanda would be around next. It didn’t always work, but two out of every three changes were done by her. It was that Becky wasn’t just as good at it. It was just that, between the two of them, he preferred in pretty much all things, and if he couldn’t choose where to empty himself, he could choose when and thus who changed him. “Um … Amanda, I, uh … I can’t swim in this, can I?” “Not unless you want to carry around about 4 liters of sea water with you. We have some swim diapers for you.” “Oh.” Was that a good thing or a bad thing? She had him in swim trunks and a t-shirt in another minute and put sandals on his feet. He already had a tan from spending so much time out in the backyard. In fact, having been chained to a desk, he hadn’t been this tan in years. “Let’s go wait in the living room for mom.” She helped him down, and the two of them went to the living room. ‘We’ turned out to be Jamie, whom Amanda lifted into the playpen while she went to go get herself ready. Jaime didn’t mind. He’d left his coloring book in there. Jamie sort of liked the play pen. If he sat against the side away from the center of the room, he could still see out through the mesh, but he was a little more hidden. Becky came crashing up the stairs with chairs; then she went back down and came crashing up with a mesh bag full of beach toys; then she went down and came crashing back up with an umbrella. This is quite the production, Jamie thought. Becky had worked up a sweat. She decided to go get herself ready next, as Amanda came down wearing a T-shirt dress and carrying a backpack. “What happened to you?” “I was getting stuff from the basement.” “I’d have helped, Mom.” “It’s alright. How ‘bout you go make us a lunch while I change?” So Amanda went and filled a cooler with water and food for them, and that went to the car, too. It wasn’t a large car. This seemed a bit much to Jamie; they were just taking a day trip to a beach, and he thought they lived near it. He told himself to remember to ask for a map. At last, Becky came back downstairs in a new outfit carrying an overstuffed pool bag in her arm, which she set down, went back down the hall, and came back with Jamie’s diaper bag. “Are we ready?” Jamie didn’t know who she was asking. “Yeah, Mom. So long as we don’t forget Jamie,” Amanda said as she came back into the living room and lifted him from the playpen. I could live with that, Jamie wanted to say. Even from his low vantage point, Jamie could see the back of the car was filled with stuff. He had a lot of beach experience and knew you didn’t need all this. Not unless you were taking kids. Oh, he thought. This presented a dilemma. Jamie didn’t feel compelled to use eight buckets and five shovels and a sifter and a net. But so much work went into bringing it, he felt he had to. As Amanda buckled him in, he asked, “Will you sit in the back with me.” “Sure, buddy!” She went around to the other side and climbed in. Becky had them headed toward the beach. “So, what did you want to talk about?” “Rose.” “Ah. You want to know what she’s like?” “Yeah.” “I used to babysit her.” “Why don’t you anymore?” “School, and because Jane’s neighbor’s daughter is old enough to now, and she’s cheaper than I am.” “So, what is she like then?” “She’s about your age.” That was confusing. “Which … of my … ages?” Did that even make sense? “Your Little age. I think she’s older than you where you’re from.” “How long has she been here?” “I want to say twelve years.” “So she decided to stay then.” “Yep. She’s always been a happy little Little.” “Does Jane have any kids?” “No, she says she never wanted any. After a while, she decided she wanted a Little though.” “But …. How is that different?” “It …” That was a good question. Having a Little was arguably more work than a kid. Kids grow up and need less care. Only a handful of Littles grow up. Some grow up a bit and then stop, and most stay the way they arrived, or even go backward. “I guess I’m not sure.” “But it is different, though, right? I mean …” He had trouble wrapping his head around it, too. Amanda tried again. “I think, maybe … maybe Jane liked the idea of always having someone who depended on her, and being able to take care of her forever.” “But, doesn’t your mom do that for you?” Such a sweet guy, Amanda thought. “Ya know, you’re right. She does. But I think every parent is torn. A part of them wants to see their child grow up and get to know the person they become, and a part of them wants their child to stay young, even so young that they need their moms and dads for everything.” That made sense to Jamie. “That makes sense. So how far is the beach anyway?” “It’s on the other side of that hill.” She pointed to the ridge on their left. “Maybe when we get home, you could show me a map of where we live.” They pulled into a sandy parking lot filled with cars like Becky’s. From his seat, Jamie could see other people unloading as much junk as they had. Jamie had no idea what time it was, but he was feeling tired and figured it must be near his morning nap time. “Chill here; we’ll get some stuff out first.” Jamie kicked his legs for no reason, his feet dangling low so they didn’t hit the seat. The hatch of the car opened, and it sounded like all but a few things fell out. Becky got the entire car seat out with Jamie still in it and secured into the stroller. She looked at Jamie and at the pile. “Can you walk?” “Of course I can.” Does she think I’m gonna forget how? Jamie found himself next to the stroller, and as much as they could fit ended up in it, under it, or hanging from it. From stroller to luggage. Still, they’d need to make more than one trip. Jaime appraised himself. This was the most normal outfit he’d worn since he got there, even if the shirt had a whale on it. The swimsuit did nothing to disguise what he had underneath, but catching glimpses of other Littles between the cars as they walked past, he counted himself lucky he wasn’t wearing a speedo, or nothing but a diaper. He remembered people taking their babies around like that in public back home, and he always wondered what possessed a parent to do that. It was hardly dignified for the child, and it wasn’t exactly polite to the people around them either: here, it said, this my child and the thing they void their bowels into; we thought you’d enjoy it more if there wasn’t even a layer of cotton to obscure the view. “And we’re off.” Amanda held Jamie’s hand as they crossed the parking lot, looking both ways. They headed toward the boardwalk. Jamie looked at the sand: white and fine. There was sand like that at home, but he’d never seen it in person. A dozen trash cans, some overflowing, were near the entrance to the boardwalk; that part he did remember from home. They boardwalk was long. Thankfully Amanda and Becky slowed down so he didn’t have to speed-walk to keep up. When they finally came in sight of the sea, Jamie stopped walking and took in the scene. He smiled; a tear fell from his eye, the good kind. “Honey, is everything okay,” Becky asked. “Yeah. It looks like home.” The two of them waited for his cue before they walked on. At the foot of the boardwalk ramp were two dozen other strollers. It was still early in the day; Jamie could at least tell that from the sun, and it wasn’t as warm yet as it would be. He wondered if things would get busier or if this was it. Jamie was handed his diaper bag and the sack of beach toys, and Becky and Amanda shouldered the chairs and umbrella and beach bag. They turned left from the boardwalk. Their feet slipped a little each time they pushed off the balls of their feet, the rubber soles of their sandals squeaking with each step. It was a little hard on the calves, just like Jamie remembered. The salt in the air; the smell of sea life; those were familiar, too. After a few hundred meters, they saw Jane wave to them. She trotted over and took the toy bag. “More toys! Exactly what we need,” she chuckled. “Good morning, Jaime. Are you excited for your first time at the beach here?” “Good morning, Jane. I am. I missed it more than I thought.” “Rosie can’t wait to meet you.” They reach the spot Jane had picked out, just above where the surf stopped; he could feel the tide had only stopped washing over the area an hour or two ago. The sand wasn’t dry; it was spongy and cool, not hard like the packed sand the waves still lapped over. Rosie didn’t pay them much attention. She was seated with her legs under her, working on something in the sand in front of her. She had an array of buckets and tools to work with. “Rosie,” Jane said as she knelt down and touched her on the shoulder, “I want you to meet Jamie.” Jane’s voice was odd, he thought. Rosie turned around, and Jamie saw what she’d been working on – a wet mound of sand. He looked her up and down. One-piece bathing suit with polka dots and ruffles on her butt, clearly padded underneath. She had black hair and olive skin. He couldn’t tell how old she really was; it was impossible to know because of the cosmetic work the doctors did, the same ones that make him lose his facial and body hair and look and feel so much younger. When she turned all the way around, he saw she was blushing, and when she spoke, she rushed the words out: “Hi, Jamie. I’m Rosie. Wanna help me build a castle?” Jamie hadn’t considered it, and no one had told him. She’s regressed, he realized.

I didn't doubt it. Those folks live in the world, too. If we forget, they remind us. Hope you like this next installment. __________________________________________________ And chapter 12. There's something I'm trying to work toward, and I'm not sure if this chapter did it or not. I started out with a scene in mind that I quickly changed to this scenario, which I think is better and, within the story, more consistent and authentic with the world I've created. In other news, Daylight Savings Time should be all the time. Anyone who disagrees should go eat worms. __________________________________________________ Chapter 12 After a night’s rest and a thorough bath, Jamie was ready to write to Cheryl. My Forever Friend, Cheryl, I’m called Jamie now. Amanda picked it out, I think. You were right about her. No one has ever been so nice to me, except you. She calls me her buddy. She makes it bearable here so far. Becky and I got off to a rougher start. At first, it was like she was so blinded by her idea of a Little that she didn’t how I was different. She’s never been less than kind, but sometimes inconsiderate. But Amanda talked to her. I don’t know what she said, but Becky apologized. She promised if I trusted her and gave her another chance to show me she loved me, I’d come to love her and even heal, she said. I don’t know what that means, ‘heal.’ If it means to forget, I’d rather stay broken. Do you think that’s what I am? I don’t want to be a pity case. There are some thing I hadn’t anticipated, and if I had, I don’t know that I’d have come. They’re hard sometimes, but not everything about them is bad. They threw an arrival party for me yesterday. I like Amanda’s uncle Danny and aunt Laurie, and Becky’s best friend, Jane. Jane has a Little named Rose. Becky’s mom seems like a piece of work. I sorta made fun of her, but honestly, I don’t feel guilty about it, and everyone else thought it was funny. Except Becky, but she didn’t seem mad either. I’m going to get to me Rose eventually. I haven’t gotten to meet any other Littles yet. I saw some in a store. Most of them seemed regressed. I think I’ll feel better when I get to talk to some Littles and hear their perspective on things. They have to have some tips and tricks to make things easier. Other than that trip to the store, I haven’t gone out yet. I had several surgeries, and between that and the time difference, I’m tired a lot. The surgeries don’t hurt very much anymore, but I guess I’m still mending. About that trip to the store. Some random lady just came right up and pinched me cheek, and then when I got mad she did it again! Like she didn’t even hear me! I’m nervous about meeting other Bigs, not because I’m worried they’ll be mean to me but because they’ll treat me like she did, like I’m not a full person. I try to tell myself it will be okay as long as Becky and Amanda are around, but I know at some point, when summer ends, they won’t be around all the time. I’m trying to prepare myself for it, but sometimes it’s easier not to think about it. Every day is pretty much the same; that’s comforting, in a way. I think it will get boring eventually, but so far it’s better, I think. Most of my day is spent with Amanda. It’s a bit embarrassing, but when I do get bored, I follow her around. She never gets tired of me, though. She usually picks me up and keeps doing what she was doing, or else she stops and we talk or she helps me find something fun to do. It seems I never go long but I’m with her or she comes to me, I like that. She makes me feel ... I’m not sure. I just want to be with her most of the time. I have two people who love me. I don’t know if I’d can say with sincerity I have that depth of feeling for them, even for Amanda. It would be absurd to, right? I’ve known them little more than a week. Thank you so much for the presents you gave me. They were each so thoughtful. The bear is ... I’ve never had anything that was important to me. He sleeps with me. Sometimes I carry him around the house. I know it’s silly; it’s just a teddy bear. But because it’s from you ... I don’t understand how a teddy bear could make me feel so much better when it’s just a bear. But it does. I’ve only heard its voice once. It hurt so bad, hearing your voice and not seeing you, and not knowing when I’ll see you again, I don’t think I can hear it again. But knowing your voice is inside there makes me feel that I’ve not lost you. I haven’t, have I? There are times when I’m afraid I’m pretending, or maybe don’t even know I’m pretending. Do I feel such affection for Amanda because I have her with me and not you? Is the bear just a substitute? Your words are always a great comfort to me. Not hearing them every day leaves a void. I can’t tell if Amanda is filling that void in my heart, or if my heart grows each day to make a space for her. I can’t say I’m unhappy, but neither am I happy. I don’t know what this feeling is. There are moments, many of them, when I smile and laugh and have fun and suppose am I happy. But it feels like those moments end, and then there’s just the uncertainty. What am I doing here? Did I trade for a better world, or did I just trade for a new world to be sad in? I can’t foresee where this all ends. Amanda can’t tell me that, or Becky. They know where they want it to end, and they believe it will; they seem so sure of it. I want to be sure of it, too, and I try to will myself to have their confidence, but I can’t, or when I can it only keeps away the doubt so long. I never doubted your word. When you were sure, I was sure. Can you tell me, where does this road go? I thought I was scared when I left you. I thought that was the hard part, and it was so hard, harder than anything I’ve done, and I’ve done what’s hard. I had to do what was hard, and then I chose to do what was hard. Then I chose to walk away from all that, as far as I thought I could walk. The road didn’t end, Cheryl. Maybe I deluded myself into thinking it would, or else chose not to think on it because I didn’t want to know. As there’s a path still to tread, I guess I have to keep walking. It feels more like a limp. Cheryl, do you know where this road goes? Do you know the way? Your Forever Friend, Jamie PS, Becky sings a song to me every night. Its last verse make me think of you. Though sad fate our lives may sever Parting will not last forever, There's a hope that leaves me never, All through the night _­­­­­­­­­­­_____________________________________________________________________________ “Where are we going?” Jamie had asked once already and had not gotten a straight answer. Were they trying to surprise him with something? He doubted it. “You'll see,” Becky answered. Amanda kept silent. Jamie gave up and watched the houses go by out the window. Everything reminded him of pictures of ancient Rome, not because things were ornate but because they were so massive. Not being told put him in a suspicious mood bordering on irritated. They pulled into the parking lot of a long, rectangular, brick building. Jamie was allowed to walk into the building, but he had to hold Becky’s hand. He wanted to ask Amanda what was going in; surely she’d level with him, but he never got the chance. Once in the building, he saw the sign board listing names and initials behind them. This is a medical building. Why not tell him he was going to the doctor if nothing was wrong? But he felt fine. Were they going to do something to him? They rode the elevator to the third floor and went into a waiting room filled with Little and their Bigs. Amanda took Jamie to find a chair while Becky registered them. Littles were sitting next to their Bigs, some were in strollers or carriers, some were playing on the floor with toys. Some looked sick, and some, like Jamie, looked fine. Their Little ages ran from new born to child. He could easily tell some of them were regressed by their faces and body language. Their eyes looked bright enough, but their hands and arms jerked when they tried to move them; nothing was smooth. Or else they had control of their gross motor skills, but no their fine; one held a sippy cup with both hands, while another smashed two toy cars together. He looked happy, but he also looked like he wasn’t capable of any game much more complex than that. Only one other Little, besides Jamie, looked completely with it. “Jamie,” a nurse called out as she opened the door. She held the door and then showed the three of them to an examination room. “The nurse will be in shortly.” Jamie heard loud crying from the room next door; he was out of patience. “Why are we here?” “It’s just a check-up.” “And?” “And that’s it.” “Why didn’t you just tell me that?” “Well, I know the doctor can be scary.” Yeah, Jamie though, when you’re five, and not knowing can be scary too. It would make sense if he was regressed, but he wasn’t. There was a knock on the door and it opened before they could answer. Guess doctors do that here, too, Jamie mused. Becky stood up to greet the young woman who came in. “Hi,” she said, “I’m Dawn. I’m one of Dr. Perkins’ nurses.” Becky answered back for the three of them. “Hi Dawn. I’m Rebecca, this is Amanda, and of course, this is Jamie.” Though he was seated on the exam table, Dawn still had to bend down slightly to look him in the eye. “Hello, Jamie. I’m Nurse Dawn. It’s a big day for you, isn’t it? Are you ready for your first physical?” She said it as though speaking to an actual infant, her voice pitched higher than when she spoke to Becky. “Actually, I’ve had, like, 50 of these.” “Ohho, well today you get your first real one.” Was that a shot at me or human medicine, he wondered. “I’m not regressed.” “I know. It says so right here in your chart. Arms up.” Her tone didn’t change. Jamie looked at Becky, who was smiling weakly. “It’s okay, honey, she's just going to undress you.” “I can do it.” Rather than reply, Dawn lifted his arms for him and pulled off his shirt, pushed him back gently, and then removed his shoes, socks, and pants. Jamie looked pleadingly at Becky and Amanda. He wasn’t sure why; maybe because she was being so patronizing, and because this was the first time someone other than the two of them saw him in just a diaper. The nurse lifted his wrist and took his pulse. Jamie preferred to not look at her. With a tug on one and then other hip, Jamie heard his diaper being opened and felt the cool air. It made him need to pee. “Oh my, goodness,” Dawn squeaked, “someone is all dry.” Jamie rolled his eyes. “Yeah, which one of us,” he asked in his driest voice. Amanda had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. Even Becky chuckled. Dawn didn’t get it. “We need to get a quick urine sample.” Finally, Jamie thought, I can show them I can control my bladder. He started to sit up, and Dawn pushed him back down. “It’s a lot easier to go standing up,” he said. She shushed him. “It’s alright, honey. I know this doesn’t feel very good.” "What doesn't? What are you doing?" She didn't answer. She took his penis in her hand and began wiping the end of it with a something wet. He cringed. Before he could over it, he suddenly felt something wet and just above freezing being rubbed in circles over this bladder, and he felt an irresistible urge to pee, which he did. He heard it hitting the plastic of a specimen. Jamie wasn’t sure if he had purposefully let his urine go or not. The need was so urgent, he couldn’t tell if he instantly relaxed or lost control. He was embarrassed and angry. “What did you just do?” “Sorry, kiddo, I know that was cold.” “That …” Before he could finish, Dawn flipped him over. “Did you bring a stool sample?” Jamie blanched. “Right here.” Becky reached into her purse and pulled out a plastic bag with an opaque specimen cup inside. Jamie put his head back down. Screw this, he thought, resigning himself to being a passive participant. Or at least he did until he felt a very large hand spreading his butt cheeks apart. “HEY!” Jamie struggled to get up, but Dawn pushed him back down. Amanda interjected. “Could you be a little gentler, please?” To everyone’s astonishment, Dawn answered with, “Aww, aren’t you just the cutest Big sister. Don’t worry, baby, it won’t hurt.” Amanda scowled and shot back, “I’m not regressed either, lady.” Dawn had already turned back to the task at hand. Becky intervened. “This way is much more accurate for Littles, trust me.” She stepped forward and put a hand on Jamie’s back, gently, but he knew she’d hold him down if she needed to. Jamie tried coming to his own defense. “Can we talk about this! I mean, what’s so bad about being off a tenth of degree. That’s not ...” He was cut off mid-sentence by a greasy finger entering his backside. “Ow! Take that out! Do you even fucking hear me?” “Shh,” was Becky’s response, which she meant well, but it did nothing to make Jamie feel better. The finger was withdrawn and something much thinner was inserted. Jamie would have tried to get up, but holding perfectly still seemed the wise option. He laid with his cheek pressed to the table, thinking, fuck this and all y’all. After fifteen seconds, the thermometer was removed. Dawn folded the diaper back over Jamie’s butt and announced, “The doctor will be in just a minute.” “I’m sorry, baby, I know that wasn’t nice, but it was necessary,” Becky said as she stroked his back. Jamie huffed in response. “Amanda,” he asked. “Yeah, buddy?” She stepped up to the exam table, and Jamie subtly titled his eyes. She caught the signal and bent down so he could whisper in her ear. Amanda nodded and opened the diaper bag, took out wipe, then folded back the diaper again and cleaned the lubricant from between his cheeks. “Thank you.” There was another knock, and again another woman came in without waiting for a response. “Hi! I’m Dr. Perkins. You must be Rebecca.” “Becky, please.” “So, his first physical.” Jamie was getting a headache. “May I?” It wasn’t a question as she stepped forward and placed what Jamie could tell was a cold stethoscope on his back. “I don’t even have to be here for this,” Jamie said. “Shh. Be very quiet for me, babe.” Jamie’s inevitable sigh coincided with her request he take a deep breath. “Can you be a big boy and roll over for me?” Becky said something this time. “Yes, because he’s not regressed.” “Oh! I’m sorry. Sometimes we just forget!” But the apology was to Becky, not Jamie. He turned himself over, and she put the stethoscope back on his chest, then his belly. She probed around his abdomen. “Any complaints?” “Just an upset tummy last week. It cleared up in a day.” She folded the diaper down and checked Jamie’s privates. To her credit, she was gentle. Finally, the doctor spoke to Jamie. “I’m go to press in a few places, and I want you to tell me if it hurts.” He nodded, and she pushed gently around his stomach, pubic mound, hips and joints. “There,” Jamie winced. “Here?” “Uh huh.” “Okay, sorry.” She turned her attention back to Becky. “Well, that’s normal for the surgery he had. He’s healing at the right rate. He’s moving around alright?” “Yes. He gets tired easily, though.” “That’s to be expected. I don’t see anything different from what the doctors at the hospital noted. He looks healthy and well developed.” “Then can I get up?” She ignored him. “How’s he tolerating his diet.” “Hey! Can you please address me, dammit!” James sat himself up and did his best to look deserving of respect, albeit nude. The doctor turned and look at him with a blank expression for a few second before turning back to Becky. “There are things we do to manage his behavioral outbursts, such as medication.” Becky cut her off. “No, thank you.” Now Perkins look at Becky blankly and turned to Amanda, who looked livid. “Alright. I’ll have Dawn come back in and give him his vaccination, and then you’re free to go.” She left. Becky sighed. “Sorry, Jamie. Let’s get you redressed.” Becky was getting his shoe on by the time Dawn came in. “Alright. So this will only take a sec.” Dawn laid out a syringe, alcohol wipe, and band-aid on the exam table next to Jamie. “What’s the shot for?” Dawn ignored him. “Becky?” “It’s just a vaccination. You got some in the hospital but will need some boosters.” He nodded. Amanda stepped forward and took his hand. “Squeeze if it hurts, buddy.” Dawn rolled up his sleeve and rubbed his arm vigorously with the alcohol wipe. “Are you gonna be brave for me?” She pinched his arm to make the needle slide in easier. It looked no different than any other needle he’d been stuck with. “What’s the big deal? I’ve gotten shots …” Dawn inserted the need and depressed the plunger. Jamie’s lips quivered. Agony. Pure agony, like he’d been stabbed by a rhinoceros horn! He burst into tears and proceeded to wail while crushing Amanda’s fingers. Dawn put a bandaid over the spot. Jamie’s arm felt limp. “He’s all set to go.” “Oh, baby boy, I know it hurts.” Both Becky and Amanda tried to comfort him, and it was only a moment before he got himself under control, though he still lost a few more tears. “What the hell was that? What did she do to me?” Becky rubbed his back. “It was just a shot honey. They hurt.” “Not like that! We have shots where I’m from, too! Did she maim me? Is it bleeding?” Amanda couldn’t help but chuckle at his dramatics. Littles and shots – she didn’t understand how they could overreact so much. “Can we go home?” “I think that’s a good idea.” _­­­­­­­­­­­_____________________________________________________________________________ Once inside, Becky told Jamie, “Go wait for me in your room. I’ll be there in a minute.” Amanda stayed behind. “We have to get a new doctor, Mom. She and her nurse were just awful.” “Agreed. We need to take Jamie out somewhere he can meet Bigs soon. He’s left the house twice so far, and both times were terrible for him. He’s gonna think we’re monsters. But I need to have a little talk with him first. He can’t behave like that and expect to get away with it.” “I know. The books say it’s important to confront Littles as soon after misbehavior as you can.” “Yeah, so I’m gonna go talk to him and then put him down for his nap.” She filled a bottle of water and went to Jamie’s room, where she found him sitting his chair looking tired and rubbing his arm as though he’d been an industrial accident. “Jamie, we need to have a little talk.” She sat down in the rocking chair. “Come over here, please.” Jaime didn’t like where this was going, but her face said it wasn’t a question. He got up and walked to her, and once he was close enough, she leaned out and picked him up, putting in in her lap so they were facing each other. His heart skipped half a beat; the action reminded him of large, fast hands from his childhood. And the moment reminded him just how much at the mercy of her good intentions he was. He figured to head off trouble by apologizing, though what for he wasn’t sure. “Becky, I …” “I’m going to talk first. I don’t like how that doctor and nurse talked to us or treated you. They had no excuse. We’re going to find a new one for you. Okay?” “Thank you.” “But I also don’t like the way you talked to them. When someone is rude to you, you can’t just be rude back. That doesn’t fix things. And your language is not alright. When you get angry or afraid, you need to use appropriate words.” “I know I used some swear words, but overall, I don’t think I said or did anything that was out of line.” “Where you come from, when someone made you angry, is that how you talked to them?” “Well ... no.” “Why not?” “Because it’s just not how I talk to people.” “Why not?” “It would just be wrong; you’re supposed to control those impulses.” “Exactly.” But people didn’t treat me like …” “Like a Little?” His ears burned. “Yeah.” “I like you so much the way you are, Jamie. I like the way you came to us, and I wouldn’t change it for anything. You’re smart and funny and confident. Those are all good things, and it’s important to me you stay that way. Understand?” He nodded. “You are a Little, and that’s such a good thing. Some things are different here, and they’re all for your good, even if you don’t understand why. For instance, Littles get their temperature taken in their bottom. That nurse should have explained things to you as she went along instead of ignoring you. She was wrong about the way she did it, but she did what she needed to do for you.” Jamie wasn’t liking this conversation. Why do Littles get treated differently? That seemed like a whole different conversation, and Jamie didn’t want to solve it just then. He wanted to end the lecture. Still … “But … I’m not stupid. I’ve taken care of myself for a long time.” “Of course you’re not stupid. You’re very, very smart. Remember when we talked about trust? That’s what this is. Rights and responsibilities go hand in hand; you gave up a lot of responsibilities, and that was for the best. But that means some things can’t be up to you. That’s why you have to trust us and let us make some decisions for you, even when you don’t understand why. It takes a lot of courage to trust that much.” That made a certain sense. Someone with no responsibilities but who thinks they can still make decisions when it’s convenient for them is called a brat. Still, there’s a line between trust and credulity. “That … what if I really disagree? Like, I don’t think they do have my interests in mind?” “You ask me or Amanda, or someone you do trust, and then you do what we decide.” “What if the only person is around is someone I don’t know enough to trust?” “Like who?” “I don’t know … a babysitter?” “I wouldn’t put a babysitter in charge of you that I didn’t trust. But, if you ever feel unsafe, you do what you think is best, and we’ll talk about it together later. Okay?” “Okay.” So basically, Jamie thought, my right to do what I want has a limit. He thought back again to the adoption agreement. You have the rights of a minor, which effectively meant he had given up rights, a lot of them. And he wouldn’t ever talk to anyone the way he did to the doctor and nurse, not as an adult. He knew better – it was rude and it made whatever the problem was worse; everyone just dug in their heels more. The tables turned. Jamie used to tell kids in new situations something very much like what Becky told him. These people know best, or I wouldn’t put you with them; you need to do what they say, but if you ever feel unsafe or if they hurt you, tell me or another adult. I just got told to behave myself, in other words, he thought. And overall, he didn’t disagree, at least in theory. Giving up the power to make certain decisions, which he had agreed to do, was something he had to do in order to have the freedom of having less responsibility. I can’t have my cake and eat it too. And he knew trying otherwise wouldn’t help him in the long-run; he’d just be another version of his old self, or worse. “I know it will be hard for you sometimes, especially at first. Sometimes you might not succeed, and we’ll work on it together. Does that make sense?” He could foresee that. No one never misbehaves. What then? One thing at a time, though, he thought. “It makes sense. “It’s your nap time. When you wake up, we can talk again if you have more questions.” She hugged him tightly, undressed him, and kissed him before raising the crib rail and turning off the light. _­­­­­­­­­­­_____________________________________________________________________________ When Jamie woke up some time later. His arm still hurt. He found the bottle of water Becky had left in his crib and started drinking. He never seemed to wait long between waking up from a nap and someone coming to get him. He did his business in anticipation of being clean again very soon. Sure enough, he only had to wait a few minutes. It was Amanda, the person he wanted to see. She shut the door behind her. “Hey, buddy!” She said it in excited voice, a little higher than normal, but it wasn’t like when others did it. She was excited to see him, Jamie knew, and it wasn’t patronizing. He smiled back at her but stayed where he was. She lowered the crib rail and knelt down so she was at his left, and then ran her hand over his back. He was beginning to recognize her hands by the way they felt different from Becky’s, softer, more delicate. In some ways, this was the best part of his day. It was Amanda’s, too. She always took the opportunity when she could to get him up from his naps; it was quality time together. “How about we go straight into some PJs for the rest of the day?” That was fine by Jamie; he was growing to like those sleepers. She picked a pair from his dresser. He wondered how many there were. He’d only worn a couple of them more than once. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” This was also getting so routine that it was losing the power to bother Jamie. So long as he was able to time it right, he didn’t have to endure it long. That it didn’t bother her, or Becky, made him feel at least as though he didn’t have to feel ashamed. “How does your arm feel?” “It still hurts.” “You were very brave.” Jamie blushed. “No I wasn’t.” “Why do you say that?” “Because I cried like an infant.” “Ya know, every day I see people who walk around with some hurt inside them. Are they brave because they don’t cry?” “Well … no.” “So what makes them brave?” “I guess, that they keep going.” “That’s right. Anything else?” Jamie thought about it. “I can’t think of anything.” “How about that when they need to, they ask for help? I think that’s very brave.” “I think so too.” I guess that’s what I did, Jamie thought. “And there’s nothing wrong with a Little letting it out when something hurts a lot. That’s just another way of asking for help.” That made Jamie feel better. It took away some shame. He was clean again. “Manda?” She smiled at him funny. “What did you call me?” He blushed; he hadn’t meant to. “Um … Manda. Sorry.” She ruffled his hair. “Don’t be. I like it.” Jamie smiled. Now he had given her a name, too, even if he didn’t mean to. A name only he knew. “How bad … was I?” He wanted her opinion. It meant the most to him. Zipping up his footies, she picked him up and carried him to the rocking chair. “Can you hear me?” “Of course I can.” “And you’re listening really well?” “Yes … promise.” Was he about to get another lecture? “You weren’t ‘bad,’ Jamie. I don’t think you could be bad if you wanted to. You just made a little mistake. And when that doctor started talking about medicating you, I wanted to make a much bigger mistake than you did. Did you notice what Mom did?” “She just shut down the conversation.” “Right. That was the right way to handle it. The rest of it, they only did what they were supposed to, but it was how they did it. They were very mean to you. Has anyone been mean to you before?” “Of course. Lots.” “When you were a kid, how did you handle it?” “I’d get angry … which didn’t usually work.” “Exactly. You learned better ways to handle it. Ya know what I think happened? I think, without you realizing it, not having a say made you feel you weren’t responsible for what happened next, so you said what felt good even though you really know it wouldn’t help.” Jamie realized Amanda had him totally figured out. He wondered what else she knew. “But you were responsible for some of what could have happened next, weren’t you?” “Yes.” “That can be really hard to remember when we feel powerless, that we only feel that way. What we say and do can make things better or worse.” Jamie certainly knew that was true. There wasn’t much that couldn’t be made worse. “You’re right.” “And I know you know I’m right, because you’re a very smart person. Sometimes we all forget things and make mistakes. That’s another Big sister responsibility, help you avoid those and helping you learn from the ones that get made even though we both try.” Jamie just wrapped her arms around her. He shuddered a bit, to know he was safe with her. She kissed his head and stoked his hair. “Feel better.” “Much. Thank you.” “I’ve got something else for you, too.” She reached around to her back pocket and withdrew an envelope. Jamie’s breath grew a little faster. Excited and nervous. She handed him the letter and he looked at it for a long moment. “Tell you what. How ‘bout you just hang out in here for a while?” She set him on his feet, and he finally looked away from the envelope. “Okay.” Amanda decided to empty the diaper pail, so she took that with he. Before she reached the door, Jamie asked, Manda? What are you doing later?” “After lunch, I thought I’d go lay in the sun for a bit.” “Can I come with you?” “Of course.” When Amanda walked by his room twenty minutes later, Jamie was under his crib, re-reading his letter. _­­­­­­­­­­­_____________________________________________________________________________ Dearest Jamie, What a joy to see your name on the envelope! My thoughts turn to you by the hour. The hours are long sometimes. It is a great relief to know you are well. You are not broken, Jamie. Never. You have me and always will. Forever and ever. Whatever else you doubt in the world, never doubt that. No distance or time or force can sever what we have. We are part of each other, now and always. I’m so happy you and Amanda are growing so close. She’s a sweeter person than she knows. I saw her in it like I saw it in you. She is young yet, though not so much younger than you. None of us knows all of what we are until time in its fullness reveals ourselves, but each day we come to know more. We shape and are shaped by the people around us. You are helping her to know herself for the miracle she is as much as she is helping you. Becky is right. Trust her, and you won’t regret it. I placed the two of you in each other’s arms. Trust that, and you will trust her. My sweet boy, I don’t know where the road goes. I don’t know the way. But I know you’re on the right road. I’d have held you back otherwise. It was hard enough not to. You are a pilgrim now. Pilgrims have far to walk; they know where they mean to go, but they don’t always know what they’ll encounter along the way, or what paths they’ll follow when the road diverges, but a pilgrim is never lost. Wherever he goes, he is still a pilgrim, and whether he ever arrives where he set out to, a pilgrim always arrives where he is meant to. A pilgrim’s walk is easy some days. There’s dew on the grass in the morning. The sun warms you. The breeze pushes you along. Other days, the walking is hard. The mud pulls at you feet. The rain pounds at you. The wind pushes you back. Good days and bad, it hurts to walk far. But the way provides for pilgrims who keep walking anyway. I’ve never met someone so able to endure as you. You will walk so far you'll discover wonderful things only you'll know of, and then you'll share it with us the way you've shared yourself and made our lives so much richer. And when you think you can walk no farther, when it hurts too much to take another step, Becky and Amanda will carry you. Others will, too. They’ll carry you because it lightens their hearts to shoulder your weight. We carry those we love. And when you’re ready, they’ll know it, even if you do not, and they’ll set you back on your feet. How far you will go. I walk beside you always. Your Forever Friend, Cheryl

I understand the point of not being associated with any stories involving minors but it is done all the time on sites like this. As long as the actions within the story remain acceptable, I personally don’t see any problem with having an underage character. As for this story, I am positive I have read this in the past somewhere. I can’t recall where or when but I know I have read it. I don’t recall anything inappropriate and would enjoy reading it again.