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Hi All! I was talking with some people about this story in a discord server and I thought, ya know what, let's give 'em some more, so here's a big update for you! Chapter Six Ms. Akiyama, Thank you for reaching out to me with your concerns. First of all, I can, in fact, confirm that your daughter, Rei Akiyama, was with me this past Wednesday evening. I was running a workshop for a number of students to give them a chance to work on their midterm essays under supervision. As to your second question, I understand a lot of parents have concerns about the curriculum their children are learning in college these days. Please, allow me to reassure you on this matter. While we do deal with political issues and current events in my classroom, my goal is to provide students with a balanced perspective of the issues and help them formulate their own thoughts on matters. This is a tough and confusing time for everyone your daughter’s age, but especially for girls, and I like to think of my classroom as a place where they can work through their thoughts on these matters in a safe and educational environment. Of course, my first and utmost priority is to make sure your daughter receives a high-quality education, and I only include politics as much as I think is appropriate for this course. On a more personal note, I would like to add that your daughter is an exemplary student, and it has been my pleasure to teach her thus far this semester. I can tell that she is very passionate about her studies, and I very much look forward to continuing to work with her through the semester. You should be very proud of her. I hope that my answers have allayed some of your concerns; if you have any other questions or concerns, please do not hesitate to reach out to me. Sincerely, Professor Natalie Lewis, PhD She/Her/Hers Associate Professor Gender Studies Department Greenham Community College Chapter Seven Rei slipped through the front door of her house as quietly as she could and slipped off her shoes. She stopped for a moment and just listened, trying to see if she could tell where her mother was. Hearing nothing, she carefully peered into the living room, expecting to perhaps see her reading on the couch. Nothing. On tiptoes, Rei made her way to the kitchen and looked through to the dining room beyond. Nothing. The downstairs bathroom was empty too. The car had been in the driveway, though, so Rei knew her mother was home. Maybe she had gone to bed early? Feeling uneasy, Rei crept up the stairs. She didn’t even know for sure that she had anything to fear from her mother; maybe Professor Lewis had managed to quell her fears without revealing that Rei was taking exactly the kind of class her mother had told her not to. The kind that put ideas in your head, according to her mother. Relieved to see the second-floor hallway clear of her mother, Rei breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door to her room. A gasp caught in Rei’s throat as she registered she was unexpectedly not alone in her bedroom. Then her eyes caught up to her panicked brain and that panic faded and sunk into dread. Her mother was sitting on the edge of her bed; sitting on the bed beside her were some of Rei’s school books—specifically the kind that taught feminist theory. The two looked at each other in silence as the moment stretched on forever for Rei. “Mom…what…?” Rei finally managed to force out a few strangled words. “How was class today, Rei?” “Uhm, okay, how was your day?” She replied, trying to redirect. “Tell me again, what classes did you have today?” “Uh…” Rei chewed on her bottom lip nervously, knowing she was caught and unsure how best to minimize the damage. “Stop chewing your lip, Rei, and answer the question.” “I had class with Professor Lewis and Professor Slater today,” evasion, she had decided, was her best bet right now. “Uh huh, and what class, exactly, does Professor Lewis teach?” Damn, that didn’t work. “Rei! I’m tired of telling you, stop chewing your lip and answer the question.” “English.” Ms. Akiyama clicked her tongue and shook her head; she had hoped her daughter would come clean, but instead she had lied through her teeth right to her own mother’s face. Who was her daughter becoming? Whoever it was, Ms. Akiyama didn’t like it, and she wasn’t going to let her daughter go down a bad path. “So, you are reading,” Ms. Akiyama picked up one of the books on the bed next to her, “The Second Sex by Simone de Beauvoir for English?” Rei nodded; she was committed now, and the only way out was through. “I see,” Ms. Akiyama set the book down and picked up the next, “Gender Trouble by Judith Butler?” Rei nodded, her eyes wide, glossy discs. “And A Vindication of the Rights of Woman: with Strictures on Political and Moral Subjects by Mary Wollstonecraft?” Rei kept lying, but there was no light at the end of the tunnel yet. Ms. Akiyama sighed and set the books down. “Well, don’t you worry; you won’t be needing these books anymore. I called the school today and withdrew you from that English class.” “What? Mom! That’s not fair!” Rei was trying to keep her voice calm, but she couldn’t help but let it crank up a few decibels. Her heart was suddenly beating way too fast, and she felt vaguely beside herself with frustration and anger. “Life isn’t fair, Rei,” Ms. Akiyama spat back. “And you don’t just get to do whatever you want without consequences. When I agreed to let you continue going to college, you promised me wouldn’t be taking courses like that. You don’t need to be filling your head with the kind of dreck these classes teach! It is bad enough that you took that class after I had expressly forbidden you from taking any such classes, but then you sat there and lied to my face about it. You abused my trust, Rei; you have to learn there will be consequences to this kind of behavior.” “I wouldn’t have had to lie about the class if you would have just let me take it in the first place!” Rei shot back impotently. Tears were threatening to run down her face, and her hands were balled into fists at her side. “Excuse me, young lady? Are you saying it’s my fault you lied?” “No, that’s not what I meant!” As upset as she was, even Rei had the sense to know when to back pedal. “It’s just…” her mouth worked for words her brain wasn’t providing. “Just what? What do you have to say for yourself to justify this behavior?” “Just…ugh! Why can’t I just take the stupid class? You don’t even know what we learn in there!” “I have a good enough idea, young lady. And I’ve already told you, I don’t want that school filling your head with all sorts of ideas about what the world could or should be; the world is what it is, and you have to accept that! You have to live in reality, Rei; don’t you understand I just want what’s best for you?” “You don’t know what’s best for me!” Rei saw the look in her mother’s eyes and immediately knew she had said the wrong thing. It all happened so quickly that Rei’s brain had to race to keep up with her body. Ms. Akiyama’s hand shot out, catching Rei’s wrist in an iron grip, and tugging the small girl forward and across her mother’s lap. On Ms. Akiyama’s end, the motion was surprisingly instinctive despite it having been the better part of two decades since she had needed to perform it. “Mom!” Rei protested as she realized what was about to happen. “I’m sorry!” But her pleas fell on indifferent ears. Ms. Akiyama flipped her daughter’s skirt up, yanked down her cotton panties, reared back, and smacked her daughter hard enough to fill the room with a thunderous clap that nearly swallowed Rei’s pained yelp. Then she did it again. And again. And again. By the fifth hit, Rei had started kicking her feet, desperately trying to get away, but Ms. Akiyama held her firmly in place. By the fifteenth, Rei’s yelps had turned to cries, quickly approaching sobs. By the thirtieth, all the fight had gone out of the girl, and she lay limply across her mother’s lap, tears cascading freely down her face, praying it would end soon. By the fiftieth, Ms. Akiyama had to help her shuddering daughter get up off of her lap and stand on her own feet. “I am your mother, Rei, I will always know what is best for you,” Ms. Akiyama held her daughter by her shaking shoulders as she looked into her tear-filled eyes. “You, Rei, are a child and do not understand how the world works. You do not have the experience, knowledge, or maturity to make these kinds of decisions. I had thought that maybe, just maybe, you were ready for that responsibility, but this whole fiasco demonstrates very clearly that you do not. So, from now on until you grow up and can make important decisions yourself, I will be making them for you. I will make your decisions because I know what is best for you. And what is best for you is that you never go to that class again. Do you understand?” Rei nodded weakly. “Say the words, Rei. Do you understand?” “Yes, Mom, I understand.” “Now, I think you should thank me for allowing you to continue going to all your other classes, don’t you?” A fresh round of sobs racked Rei’s body, but she nodded, “t-thank you,” she managed to get out. “You’re welcome.” Ms. Akiyama let go of her daughter’s shoulders, and the girl crumpled to the ground. Without another word, she gathered up the now confiscated feminist texts and walked out of the room, closing the door gently behind her. Rei lay on the floor for a long moment after that, but eventually crawled over to her discarded backpack. She grabbed her cell phone from the front pocket and opened her texting app. Chapter Eight Ms. Akiyama quietly closed the door behind her, cutting off the worst of Rei’s sobs. Clutching the confiscated books to her chest, she resisted the urge to run to her bedroom at the end of the hallway and instead forced herself to make her there in slow, measured steps. Stay calm, she told herself, just stay calm. But when the bedroom door closed behind her, Ms. Akiyama could no longer keep her composure. She slumped against the closed door and let out a little sympathetic sob; she couldn’t believe what she had done. She had just lost her cool. She hadn’t spanked Rei since she was a toddler, but now she had done it without even thinking about it. She just wanted what was best for Rei; she wanted her daughter to be happy and safe. Rei needed to understand that; her daughter needed to understand that she wasn’t as smart as she thinks she is, nor was Ms. Akiyama as clueless as her daughter believed her. Maybe…maybe it was for the best, maybe Rei needed a good spanking to get the lesson through her head, but…but Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but feel terrible for what she had done. Wiping her eyes, Ms. Akiyama sat down on her bed. She’d always thought of herself as a good mother, but now…now she wasn’t so sure. Things were so different than when she was a kid. The parenting she’d learned no longer seemed to apply; she felt like she was starting over as a new mother, as clueless and rudderless as she was when Rei was first born. But on the other hand, maybe she wasn’t giving Rei enough credit for how hard this must be for her. It was no wonder Rei was being so rebellious; the world had changed a lot since she was a kid, too, and she was having to relearn the ways of the world just when she was at an age when she was starting to figure things out. In as much as Ms. Akiyama was, in many ways, a new mother, Rei was…well, a child. Huh…wait…that was an interesting thought. Could it really…? Could she…? She wouldn’t know where to begin. And after all, when she thought of it like that, there was a certain sense to what some mothers were doing to their daughters. Ms. Akiyama had been stunned to find that some of Rei’s friends from high school had begun to go through this kind of treatment; she had been baffled to know that women Ms. Akiyama had worked with in the PTA were doing this to their daughters. She hadn’t gotten it then; she hadn’t understood why someone would do that to their young adult daughter, but, suddenly, she could see the sense in it. And then there was…well…Ms. Akiyama couldn’t help but think back to a few months ago when she had been shopping with Rei when the pair had run into one of Rei’s best friends from high school and her mother: Megan and Heather Eckridge. Ms. Akiyama had been shocked, to say the least, to see the former being pushed in a stroller sized for a young adult. Megan had been like Rei in high school: bright and ambitious. But for all appearances, Megan had looked happy. It had been the first, but certainly not the last, time Ms. Akiyama had seen someone so close to her and Rei regressed so far, and Ms. Akiyama still remembered the sort of surreal feeling she had. She was cognizant of how horrified she might have been to see a girl she had known to be as driven and mature as Rei sucking on a pacifier with what was obviously a very soaked diaper pressing against the snaps of her onesies, but Megan had seemed so…happy. And that happiness had diffused the horror of the situation, leaving only an uncanny echo. And all Ms. Akiyama really wanted for Rei was to be happy. But Rei would never go for it. No, Ms. Akiyama knew what was best; if she thought this was what was best for her daughter, her daughter would do it. She wouldn’t have a choice in the matter. Rei might hate it at first, that was true, but Ms. Akiyama was sure she would come to find happiness in it. More happiness than she was bound to find if she kept filling her head with all sorts of dreck and detritus. And it wasn’t even like Ms. Akiyama was thinking of going as all in as Heather Eckridge had; she was only considering going deep enough to put Rei back in her place and keep her in line, make sure she grew up to have a nice, happy life despite the new twists and turns the world had thrown at her. But…was this best? Rei was mostly a good kid; she was just too curious for her own good. Maybe she could handle this in a more conventional way. Rei would see reason if Ms. Akiyama talked to her. But, then again, Rei hadn’t seen sense yet, despite Ms. Akiyama trying to talk to her. In fact, she usually got pouty and sullen when Ms. Akiyama tried to talk to her about these things. In fact, Rei acted like a child who didn’t get her way; maybe, if Rei was going to behave like a child… There was a time Ms. Akiyama would have found this suggestion ridiculous, laughably so. Indeed, that had been her initial reaction a few years ago when this thing first started becoming popular enough to gain national attention. And yet, perhaps for the first time, she saw the sense in it. But one thing was for certain: Rei would fight tooth and nail every inch of the way. Luckily, one thing was the same today as it was when Rei was a child: Ms. Akiyama was not too proud to admit she didn’t know what she was doing and seek help. When she was pregnant with Rei, she had devoured parenting books and blogs and guides of any format. And certainly, they had been helpful, but, once Rei was born, Ms. Akiyama quickly found that the best source of wisdom was the other women down in the trenches of motherhood with her. So, Ms. Akiyama did the one thing she could think of: she picked up her phone, opened her contacts, and navigated to Heather Eckridge. Chapter Nine (Author's Note: My apologies if there are any formatting issues in this chapter. This chapter contains a text message conversation between two characters; in the original Word document, I took the time to put the messages in colored boxes like in a messaging app, but, unsurprisingly, this didn't translate. I think everything should be fine, but just in case, my apologies!) Rei’s thumb hesitated over the send button. She barely knew the girl; should she really be texting her about…this? Somehow, though, she was the only person Rei wanted to talk to about it. Somehow, Rei knew she’d understand how awful Rei felt right now. Somehow, she would know what to do. Rei took a deep breath and hit send. “Hey, riley, it’s rei” Rei immediately regretted hitting send. She stared at the screen of her phone, desperately wishing there was an unsend button. She even long-pressed the text box to make sure there wasn’t. After a few more long moments spent looking at that unchanging screen, Rei put her phone to sleep and set it on the floor next to her. It was stupid, Riley was probably busy, and, besides, it was dumb to even bring this up with her. But, who else could Rei talk to? Megan Eckridge had been Rei’s best friend throughout both middle and high school; the two had been inseparable for six years and had planned to go to the same university. But the last time Rei had seen Megan had been a few months ago when she ran into Megan and her mother in Target; the latter had been pushing the former in a stroller. The look on Megan’s face had been embarrassed and slightly apologetic, but she had simply sucked her pacifier and let her mother do the catching up. Rei had met Brian Redburn during their freshman year of high school; they were lab partners in biology and entered the science fair together, taking home third place. The two had stayed close after that, even though Rei always suspected Brian was aiming for more than friendship. In senior year, Brian started to be very vocal about his support for groups like Mothers for America that lobbied for the kind of social policy change that would eventually lead to the passage of The Hayes Act. That had been the end of their friendship. Sally Walker had been her partner in the debate team; they’d always had a bit of a frenemy vibe going. No, that wasn’t quite right, they were never enemies, but frequent rivals, challenging the other to get better grades and perform better in their debates. They were fast friends when it mattered though. Sally’s mother had emancipated her when The Hayes Act was passed, and Sally went off to the kind of fancy university Rei herself would have gone to if not for…well, everything. They had lost touch. Maybe Rei could have reached out and tried to rekindle that friendship, but…no, Sally could never even begin to understand what Rei was feeling. But, for that matter, could Riley? Riley had been emancipated too, but…there was something about her. She wasn’t fighting this fight for herself, but she was still down in the trenches fighting for girls like Megan. Girls like, it seemed, Rei. Rei dived on her phone like a live grenade as it vibrated. “Hey girl good to hear from you, hows it going?” Rei let out a sigh of relief; part of her had been worried that Riley had only given Rei her number to be nice and didn’t expect Rei to use it. Rei’s fingers danced across her screen. “Tbh it has been a weird night. I was…kinda hoping i could talk to you about it, if that’s okay” Rei was relieved to see the three bouncing dots that told her Riley was typing back appear almost immediately. “Yeah of course, sounds serious, everything okay?” Rei’s fingers remained motionless as she thought through how to respond to that question. Everything was definitely not okay, but…how to explain what had happened? Rei started typing, her fingers flying, as she narrated the events of the evening, starting with coming home. Wait, no, hold on. Rei held down the delete button until what she had just written disappeared. She had to explain the lead up to today, or else Riley wouldn’t really get how things had led up to this point. Rei started typing again, then started deleting before she had finished a sentence. Okay, she thought to herself, just keep it simple. She typed out for words, let her thumb linger over send for a long moment, then let it drop. “My mom spanked me” “Shit. You okay? What happened? And so, for the second time, Rei launched into her retelling of the events of the day. Riley remained silent on her end until Rei finally reached the end of her story. Rei pressed send on her final message and set her phone down to wait for Riley’s response. The burning, stinging sensation on her ass was finally beginning to fade, but the deep muscle ache was still very present. Rei couldn’t help but wonder if her butt would bruise. Riley did not keep Rei waiting for long. “Shit. That’s so fucked up, im so sorry rei. What can I do to help? Do you need me to come get you? You can stay at my place for the night if you need to. We will figure out how to get your re-enrolled in that class, okay? So don’t worry about that.” “No, no, that’s okay…I just needed someone to talk to about it, and tbh I didn’t know who else I could talk to about this. Anyway, there’s no way my mom would let me leave the house tonight and I don’t want to think about what she might do if she caught me sneaking out tonight. As for the class..idk, maybe it’s better I just obey my mom on this one.” “Okay, if youre really sure…” “I’m sure. I just…really needed to tell someone about this that I knew would be on my side, if that makes sense” “Yeah, it does. And rei? Never doubt that I’m on your side.” “Thanks riley. Thanks a lot” Rei smiled weakly and put her phone down. Riley hadn’t been able to make anything tangibly better, but Rei hadn’t expected her to either. Just sharing what had happened and having Riley affirm that it was, indeed, fucked up was enough. That was all Rei had really needed. Well, that was all Rei needed that she was going to get right then. The two continued texting throughout the night, but conversation quickly turned on to other matters. When Rei finally went to bed that night, she fell asleep with her face bathed in the light of her phone screen as her eyes danced amongst those three bouncing dots. When five minutes passed without a response from Rei, Riley started to think the girl had fallen asleep. She had, after all, said she was lying down in bed; it was the obvious assumption for Rei’s sudden silence. When another ten passed and Riley’s phone remained silent, she was quite sure of it. Riley got out of her own bed and, leaving her phone behind, wandered downstairs to find a snack. As she made her way down the stairs, she could hear the murmur of the TV coming from the living room and see the flickering light illuminating the hallway. Riley’s socked feet moved silently over the hardwood floor as she crossed the hallway and entered the living room, where she found her mother sitting in an otherwise dark room with a bowl of popcorn watching what appeared to be some old sitcom. She looked up at her daughter as Riley came into the room and paused the TV. “Hey,” Anne, Riley’s mother, said, “you’re still up. I thought you went to bed a while ago.” “Nah,” Riley said, plopping down on the couch next to her mother, “I’ve just been in my room, texting a friend.” Her mother extended the popcorn bowl towards Riley, who grabbed a handful. “Everything okay?” She couldn’t quite place it, but her daughter had an odd tone in her voice. “Yeah,” Riley crunched down on a piece of popcorn and chewed thoughtfully. “Yeah,” she repeated once she had swallowed, “my friend is just going through some things.” “Sorry to hear that,” Anne replied. “Is this a friend of yours I know?” Riley shook her head, “nah, I just met her recently. She goes to school with me.” When it became clear that Riley wasn’t going to continue, Anne picked the TV remote back up and pressed play, and the two sat in silence watching the TV and munching on popcorn for a long moment. As they watched the show in silence, Riley’s mind drifted back to the whole reason Rei had texted her. Truthfully, Riley had been excited to see Rei’s text; their meeting had been brief, but she felt a connection with the other girl. If she was being honest, she had been slightly sad that Rei was coming to her because she had a problem. It was silly, but she wanted Rei to…well…genuinely want to talk to her. Would Rei had ever texted Riley if this hadn’t happened? Riley knew, however, that this thought was unfair and ungenerous to her new friend. Furthermore, it downplayed the significance of the fact that Rei had trusted Riley enough to come to her with this. Riley was sure the other girl had plenty of other friends she could have gone to. All of this was, of course, overshadowed by Riley’s concern over the implications of Rei’s mother’s actions. Riley knew she was lucky to have a mother like hers; one that respected not only Riley’s adulthood but her personhood as well. The sad truth was, what had started as something practiced by only the most conservative families had become rather mainstream, and most girls had parents who had supported The Hayes Act to some degree or another. There was a reason The Hayes Act had soared through both houses of congress with the most bipartisan support of any bill in recent memory. Of course, not every family went so far as to completely regress their adult daughters to giant infants. This extreme of the spectrum was still, technically, in the minority but large enough that it was considered perfectly normal. Large enough that adult sized baby products and clothes had become big business. Large enough that that they still outnumbered the families on the other extreme of the spectrum who had emancipated their daughters. The majority of families fell in sort of a middle ground that included varying degrees of regression: some families stopped short of fully regressing their adult daughters to babyhood, instead merely regressing them to toddlerhood; some treated them more like elementary age girls; some merely extended their teen years; and, of course, there were those who combined elements from ages to their liking. The fact was that it was estimated that 82.7% of girls ages 18 to 28 wore pull ups or diapers. The fact was that only 8.5% of girls age 18 to 28 were emancipated. The fact was the companies like Kimberly-Clarke and Proctor & Gamble, companies that produced brands like Pampers, Luvs, and Huggies, were raking in record profits. The fact was that their profits had been having exponential growth over the last five years as this movement started gaining traction. The fact was that those rising profits had been reinvested in propaganda and lobbyists. And that’s not even to mention the role of the pharmaceutical companies and private education institutes. The fact was that Riley was well aware of all of these facts; they were ingrained in her memory, and just thinking about them was enough to make her furious. She forced herself to unclench her jaw, then took a deep breath. She willed herself to calm down. It kind of worked. Rei had told her today that her mother was a bit on the fence, but this was a sign that she was picking a side. This was a pretty drastic and pretty sudden declaration. How far would Rei’s mom take it? Were diapers in Rei’s future? Pre-school? Elementary? Maybe Rei would get lucky and her mom would just send her to an extended high school program. Riley hoped that’s all it would be, for the sake of her new friend. But either way, in in the best case for Rei, Riley would lose her. Even if Rei went the way of Jennifer Duffy, being regressed to infancy in some ways while still allowed to attend college, it was only a matter of time before the two couldn’t be friends anymore. Rei was far from the first friend Riley would lose to this trend, and once their parents started dragging them down, it was only a matter of time before they stopped being friends. Sometimes, it was because their mother forbade them from hanging out with Riley, citing her as a bad influence. Sometimes, it was because the other girl couldn’t handle being friends with Riley, either out of embarrassment or jealousy or some other complication. And sometimes, it was because the other girl started drinking the kool-aid and decided Riley was a bad influence on their own. That was how it had been with Jennifer Duffy. Riley didn’t want to lose another friend, especially not one she had just made. “You know,” Anne spoke up suddenly, startling Riley out of her thoughts, “I loved this show when I was a kid. I saw it was on streaming now and decided to rewatch it.” “And?” Riley prompted. “How is it holding up?” Anne chuckled, “not well. I remember it being a lot funnier; but maybe I was just easier to amuse back then. Either way, the show didn’t age well.” Riley snorted a short laugh. “Yeah, well, some things are better left in the past.” Anne looked at her daughter thoughtfully, wondering what was going on in her head. Something seemed to be weighing on her. Of course, it didn’t take a genius to see that Riley wasn’t thinking about TV shows when she had said that. Anne frowned, uncertain what to do for her daughter. Riley was smart and mature and passionate; Anne was proud of all that. She had given her daughter every opportunity she could give her to be independent and seek out her goals, but Anne could only do so much, and the world was against both of them. It couldn’t help that Riley was one of only a select few amongst her peers whose mother gave them such freedom. “Your friend,” Anne said after a long silence, “is she…are her parents…” Anne gestured vaguely, uncertain how to put this euphemistically. “No,” Riley responded, getting the gist of what her mother was trying to say, “at least, not yet. I don’t know. I hope not.” Anne frowned deeper. She knew how many friends Riley had watched have their adulthoods stripped from them. She knew how furious the whole thing made Riley. “You know you can’t interfere, right?” Riley reached over and grabbed a small handful of popcorn. She shoved it in her mouth and chewed silently, staring at the TV. “Right?” Anne said again, louder this time. Riley swallowed pointedly and gave her mother a withering look, “it’s rude to talk with your mouthful.” Anne sighed, “but seriously, okay? Right?” Riley flopped back on the couch, “right, whatever.” “I know it’s hard, Riley. I’m really sorry.” “It’s fucking dumb is what it is.” “That doesn’t make it any less real.” “I know, mom.” “I just worry you are going to get yourself in trouble. Even I can’t protect you if you get in trouble.” “I’m not gonna get in trouble.” “Uh huh, sure, you’re not, little miss Rebel.” Riley rolled her eyes but said nothing. She hadn’t wanted her mother to know she was member of Rebel, much less figure out that she was its founder and leader; she would very much have preferred if that had stayed a secret. But Riley’s mother wasn’t stupid. “I’m serious, Riley,” her mother continued a moment later, her tone dropping to reflect the gravity she intended for her words, “you know I’m proud of what you are doing, but I want you to scale it down, okay? That was dangerous and risky.” Riley just sighed. Her mother hadn’t said anything about the bombing yet, but of course Riley knew her mother knew Riley was behind it. Of course, Riley knew she wasn’t going to stay silent about it forever (how could one stay silent if they knew their child had masterminded an explosive act of domestic terrorism, after all, and Riley was, quite frankly, shocked it had taken her this long), but Riley really wasn’t in the mood to talk about it tonight. “Hey, you listening to me?” Anne pressed. “This is the only way we are going to effect change, mom,” Riley replied calmly. “You are not fighting this fight alone, Riley; let the larger groups with more resources do stuff like that. Stick to vandalism and anti-propaganda, okay? That’s what you are good at anyway.” “We had to do something big, mom!” “No, you didn’t. I told you, if I thought this was getting out of hand, I would revoke your emancipation. It would kill me to do it, but I’d rather you hate me than see you in prison…or worse.” “It’s not getting out of hand.” “You could have killed someone, Riley!” Her mother was trying to keep her voice level, but that one tested her. “We made sure we wouldn’t. We did our research, made sure no one was in the building.” “What if someone had stayed late?” “Well, no one did!” “But, what if?” Anne huffed angrily. Fighting was going to get nowhere. And the truth was, it really wasn’t like Anne disapproved of what her daughter had done, she just didn’t want to see her daughter get in trouble. “Look, I don’t want to fight, okay? But you know what could happen if they catch you, right?” “Yeah, mom, I do.” Best case scenario? Prison. Worst case scenario? Fostered with a family that would send her to some place like Brighter Days Academy where they’d force the kool-aid down her throat. “Are you really willing to risk that?” Kill me if I ever become like that. Those were the words Riley had spoken to Rei just that day. Riley wanted to say yes, that this fight was important enough to her that she’d risk the ego death of complete regression, and maybe there was some part of her that truly was dedicated enough to the ideal to risk it. But the truth was, the bombing hadn’t even been her idea, and she had been against it at first—not out of principle, but out of fear. But it was safer that her mother think it had been Riley’s idea—safer that Anne not know who truly led Rebel. Finally, Riley sighed and gave her mom a half smile, “can we go back to doing robberies?” She was making a joke only she would get; she had been against that too. Anne sighed in exasperation, “You know I didn’t like it when you did that either, but I’d prefer that to this. But I’d really prefer you stick with vandalism and anti-Hayes propaganda.” “Yeah, okay,” Riley agreed, genuinely hoping she could keep her end of that agreement but also genuinely worried she might not be allowed to.

Chapter 41: Subject: Request for Patrick's Nursery Enrolment Dear Mrs. Henderson, I trust this message finds you well. I am writing to discuss the possibility of enrolling Patrick back into your private nursery. As you are aware, Patrick has been undergoing a unique journey, embracing a lifestyle that combines the aspects of adulthood with the comforts of infancy. Currently, Patrick's daily routine revolves around diaper changes, feeding times, and play sessions. He thrives in an environment where his caregivers understand the intricacies of his needs. Here are some specifics: Diapering: Patrick requires frequent diaper changes throughout the day, and the caregivers need to be attentive to the state of his diapers. It's crucial that the changing process is handled with care and sensitivity. Feeding: Patrick is accustomed to a specific diet, including baby formula and carefully curated meals. His feeding times are integral to his daily schedule, and the transition from bottle to solid food is a gradual process. Nap Times: Similar to other toddlers, Patrick requires daily naps. The nursery should provide a cozy and safe space for him to rest, ensuring he gets the adequate sleep necessary for his well-being. Playtime: Engaging activities and playtime are essential for Patrick's development. Age-appropriate toys and interactions with other children, if available, would contribute positively to his overall experience. Patrick's mental state is for the most surprisingly positive and accepting of his new lifestyle. He has developed a childlike innocence and joy, finding happiness in the simplicity of toddlerhood. His interactions with others are marked by a charming blend of curiosity and trust, and he appears content with the nurturing care he receives. I understand the uniqueness of this situation and the challenges it may pose. However, I believe you having known Patrick during his first infancy and your private nursery, with its supportive environment and experienced staff, could provide the ideal setting for Patrick's continued well-being. I am more than willing to discuss any questions or concerns you may have, and I value your insight as we navigate this unconventional journey. Patrick's happiness and stability remain my top priorities, and I believe your nursery could offer the understanding and care he needs. Thank you for considering this request, and I look forward to hearing from you soon. Warm regards, Susan. Subject: RE: Request for Patrick's Nursery Enrolment Dear Susan, It was a pleasant surprise to receive your message, and I appreciate the detailed explanation of Patrick's unique situation. I must say, your openness and commitment to Patrick's well-being are truly commendable. In our line of work, we encounter various circumstances, and Patrick's case is undoubtedly one of a kind. However, I firmly believe in providing a safe and supportive environment for every child, regardless of age or circumstance. Given Patrick's positive mental state and your dedication to his happiness, I am more than happy to welcome him back into our nursery. We'll make sure he receives the specialized care and attention required for his unique journey. Our experienced staff is prepared to embrace this exceptional situation and provide the nurturing environment Patrick deserves. I must admit, it's not every day we have an adult in our care, but I'm confident our team will handle it with the utmost professionalism and a touch of humor. We're here to support both of you through this unconventional journey. I understand the challenges that come with accommodating an adult-sized individual in a setting designed for toddlers. Our furniture, like cribs, highchairs, and changing tables, is, of course, tailored to standard toddler sizes. However, rest assured that we are up for the challenge and will do our utmost to make Patrick's stay as comfortable as possible. We will explore various options to ensure Patrick has suitable sleeping arrangements, feeding equipment, and spaces for diaper changes. It may take some creativity and adaptation, but we're dedicated to making it work for him. To ensure Patrick's smooth transition, here's a list of items you may want to bring on his first day: Diapers: Please provide an ample supply of diapers to last through the day. Our changing facilities are equipped to handle toddler-sized diapers, so feel free to bring those that suit Patrick best. Change of Clothes: Pack a set of spare clothes in case of any accidents or spills. Make sure they're suitable for the season and activities he may engage in. Bottles: If Patrick has a preferred brand or type of bottle, please bring them along. We have a designated area for bottle feeding. Bibs: A few bibs will be useful during meal and snack times to keep his clothes clean. Pacifier: If Patrick uses a pacifier for comfort, bring one with you. We'll ensure he has access to it when needed. Comfort Item: If Patrick has a favorite stuffed animal or comfort item, feel free to bring it. Having a familiar object can provide reassurance during the transition. Special Instructions: If there are specific instructions or preferences regarding Patrick's care, dietary needs, or routines, please share them with us. We want to align our care with your expectations. In preparation for Patrick's enrollment, please let us know if there are any specific items or modifications you think would contribute to his well-being. We want to ensure a smooth transition for both Patrick and our nursery staff. I appreciate your trust in our ability to handle this unique situation, and I'm confident that with open communication and collaboration, we can create a positive and enriching experience for Patrick. Looking forward to welcoming Patrick back to our nursery soon. Warm regards, Mrs. Henderson Enrollment Form Child's Information: Full Name: Patrick Johnson Date of Birth: 19.07.2000 Gender: Male Allergies: None reported Medical Conditions: [If any, provide details] Special Requirements: Adult-sized diapers, baby-sized clothing, protein powder formula Parent/Guardian Information: Full Name: Susan Johnson Relationship to Child: Mother Contact Number: 25694879 Email Address: Emergency Contact: Full Name: Karen James Relationship to Child: Aunt Contact Number: 57498596 Healthcare Provider: Doctor's Name: Dr. Stevens Clinic Name: Stevens Pediatric and Medical Center Contact Number: 55998969 Special Instructions: Diapering: Adult-sized diapers provided, change as needed. Feeding: Protein powder formula provided in bottles. Please follow instructions on the formula can. Nap Schedule: Daily nap schedule as needed. Comfort Items: Pacifier, stuffed animal, and other comfort items provided by parent. Additional Notes: [Space for any additional notes or instructions] Agreements and Consents: Medical Consent: I, [Parent/Guardian's Full Name], hereby authorize [Daycare/Nursery Name] to seek medical attention for Patrick in case of emergency. Media Consent: I grant permission for photos and videos of Patrick to be taken for educational and promotional purposes. Parent/Guardian Signature: ______________________ Date: ___________ I sat in my playpen, surrounded by colorful toys and soft cushions, happily engaged in my little world. Mommy was busy at the table, scribbling on a piece of paper at the kitchen table. My attention shifted between the colorful blocks and Mommy's movements. The rhythmic scratch of her pen against paper created a soothing background noise as I played with my stuffed animals. The excitement of being enrolled in a nursery brought a mix of emotions—curiosity, anticipation, and a hint of nervousness. Glancing over, I saw Mommy furrowing her brow, absorbed in the details of the form. She occasionally looked my way, offering a warm smile to reassure me. Mommy set aside her pen and paper and approached the playpen with a gentle smile. My heart quickened as she knelt down to my eye level, the anticipation building with every second. "Guess what, sweetie?" Mommy's voice was warm, but I couldn't shake the butterflies in my stomach. "You're going to Mrs. Henderson's daycare starting next week!" Her words hung in the air, and a wave of mixed emotions washed over me—nervousness, fear, and confusion. Daycare meant a new environment, new faces, and a departure from the comfort of our home routine. I clutched a stuffed animal, my security in this whirlwind of emotions. "But Mommy, why?" I stammered, uncertainty evident in my eyes. As I clung to my stuffed animal, absorbing the news about Mrs. Henderson's daycare, Mommy gently continued to explain the reasons behind this upcoming change. "Sweetheart, Mommy has to go back to work at the office," she began, her tone tender as she sat down beside the playpen. "But don't worry, Mrs. Henderson's daycare is a safe and fun place for you to be while Mommy is at work. You'll have other little friends to play with, and I'll be back to pick you up every day." A mixture of understanding and uncertainty clouded my thoughts. Mommy's work—I vaguely remembered her mentioning it before, but the reality of her absence during the day was sinking in. She reached into the playpen, gently ruffling my hair. "Sweetheart, it's an opportunity for you to have more friends, play with other kids, and learn new things. Mrs. Henderson's nursery will be a fantastic place for you.” "But Mommy, why do you have to go to work? Can't you stay with me?" I queried, my voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability. She sighed softly, brushing a strand of hair from my forehead. "Oh, sweetie, Mommy has to go to work so she can take care of us and make sure we have everything we need. It's part of being a grown-up. But remember, I'll always come back to you. Mrs. Henderson will take great care of you during the day, and we'll have our special time together when I'm back home." I tried to process her words, my mind grappling with the changes ahead. The idea of leaving the familiar surroundings of home was daunting. Mommy sensed my unease and gathered me into a comforting embrace. "I know it might feel a little strange at first, but you'll make friends, have fun, and learn so many exciting things at Mrs. Henderson's daycare. And I promise, when I come back home, we'll have lots of snuggles and playtime, just like always." "It's going to be okay, Patrick," she whispered, her voice a soothing melody. "Mrs. Henderson is wonderful, and you'll have so much fun. You'll make friends, learn new games, and I'll still be here for you every day when you come back home." Despite her comforting words, a sense of trepidation lingered. The unknown awaited me at Mrs. Henderson's daycare, and the thought of being away from Mommy for an extended period left me feeling vulnerable. A spark of defiance ignited within me, and I mustered the courage to voice my protest. "But Mommy, I'm a big boy! I can stay at home alone," I insisted, my determination flickering against the impending change. Mommy couldn't help but chuckle at my assertion. "Oh, my sweet little one, at one time you may have been able to, but right now you're not quite ready for that. Who would change your diapers, feed you, and make sure you're safe if Mommy isn't here?" she teased gently, her laughter resonating in her voice. I pondered her question for a moment, realizing the practicalities of my current situation. The simplicity of her response shattered my budding sense of independence. The reality was undeniable—At this point I relied on Mommy for every aspect of my care. A tidal wave of emotions overwhelmed me as the realization of my infantile dependence settled in. The impending prospect of daycare, a stark symbol of my regression, triggered a torrent of frustration and despair. I felt a surge of hot tears stinging my eyes, and a bitter taste of resentment filled my mouth. With an anguished cry, I let go of any remnants of composure, my infantile emotions spiraling into a full-blown tantrum. I kicked and flailed in the playpen, a small yet turbulent tempest of frustration. The colorful toys and padded walls, once my playful sanctuary, now felt like confining barriers amplifying my helplessness. “I used to be a big boy! Why can't I be a big boy? This isn't fair!" I wailed, my voice breaking with the weight of my shattered sense of autonomy. The reality of my existence hit me like a ton of bricks—I was a grown man, yet reduced to the status of an infant, incapable of fending for myself. In that moment, the playpen transformed into a crucible of emotions, the bars confining not just my physical form but also my psyche. I grappled with the stark reality that adulthood had slipped away, replaced by the dependency and vulnerability of infancy. Through my tumultuous sobs and cries, Mommy leaned over the playpen, her face a mix of sympathy and tenderness. With a soft and reassuring voice, she cooed in soothing baby talk, trying to bridge the gap between my adult mind and my regressed emotional state. "Hush, my little one. It's okay, shhh. Mommy is here, and everything will be okay," she crooned, her words a comforting melody amidst the chaos of my emotions. As she continued to speak in soft tones, her assurances painted a picture of a future where I would reclaim my status as a big boy. Her promises seemed to hang in the air, offering a glimmer of hope amid the tempest of my uncertainty. While I was still caught in the aftermath of my emotional outburst, Mommy delicately maneuvered her hand beneath my diaper, her touch gentle yet firm. A subtle crinkle filled the air as she checked the state of my diaper, her fingers exploring the squishy confines beneath. "There, there, my sweetie. Mommy will make it all better," she whispered, her babytalk intermingled with the rustling of the diaper. With practiced ease, she discerned that not only had I wet myself during the emotional upheaval, but a more substantial mess had occurred as well. The revelation, though met with my initial resistance, brought an unspoken truth to the forefront. In that moment, Mommy's baby talk shifted from soothing reassurances to a matter-of-fact acknowledgment. "It looks like my little one needs a fresh diaper. Such a messy boy," she teased in a light-hearted tone, her maternal instincts taking charge. I soon found myself flat on my back, strapped down to the changing table staring into the ceiling of my nursery. Mommy's fingers danced skillfully as she secured the tapes of the fresh diaper, the playful tone in her voice contrasting with the undeniable reality of the situation. "Oh, my messy little one. You're not quite ready for big boy pants, are you?" she chuckled, the teasing edge woven into her babytalk. I squirmed a bit, a mix of embarrassment and acknowledgment of the truth, all while the crinkling sound of the diaper being fastened underscored the lighthearted banter. Mommy continued her playful commentary, gently tapping my nose. "Nope, not ready for those big boy undies. Silly boy, thinking Mommy’s little sweetheart could handle that," she continued, her words painted with affectionate amusement. The nursery seemed to echo with the rustle of diapers and the soft cadence of Mommy's voice While the humor in her tone suggested a jest, it carried a deeper resonance—one that reminded me of the limitations imposed on me by my current state. As the final touches of the diaper change were completed, the realization that my journey back to adulthood was not an immediate prospect settled in.

"May you live in interesting times!" is an old Chinese curse. The modern British version might be "May you live in a listed building!" meaning one of historical interest. It might be a privilege but it results in having council jobsworths inspecting and interfering everywhere to ensure compliance with the regulations. Pembroke, unfortunately, was one such "interesting" building, and deservedly so. Dating from heaven-knows-when, and updated every century since, it was a palimpsest of different constructions. The oldest, and least modified, was the old laundry, which had been the kitchen block for the original house, and was now just a bare shell. I remembered it from my childhood with mixed feelings, full of washing machines and driers, with lots of nappies and plastic pants hanging out to dry. I can't think I used all that many, but it was better than hanging them out on the washing line in the public view. Now, with fewer children around it was still convenient for hanging out nappies, mostly those of my daughters, without attracting public attention. Thankfully the girls preferred disposables, and so there were very few of them. Now that Pembroke itself had been largely restored, including a complete rewiring necessitated after I kept getting electric shocks off the water taps, I had to decide what to do with the old kitchen/laundry. My aged parents were getting more aged by the day, and the idea occurred to me that it might be possible to convert the building into a cottage to house them where I could keep an eye on them. Not a bad idea, until the council inspector found out about it. Eventually he was compromised, persuaded, threatened and bribed into agreeing and work proceeded. I just made sure that all the nappies and plastic pants were taken out first, and let the builders in. I did have a bad moment when their young lad presented me with a nappy pin, found in a crevice in the floor, but hopefully I didn't blush too much. It was in excellent condition and I could reuse it. At least I was getting something back from a very costly conversion job. Problems abounded. Grace, my model agency, was not doing so well, and Julian was planning to retire. It needed a shot in the arm of some sort to revitalise it. Christmas was coming and I had been persuaded to host the family, with everybody anxious to see all the improvements I made to the family seat. I was hoping the laundry conversion would show some progress by then, but the builders were being builders and taking their time. Just before the Christmas break they had only got as far as stripping the old plaster off the huge chimney breast that dated back to the days when it was a kitchen for the big house - safely detached in case of fire. I wanted to keep the fireplace bare ; it would make a lovely centre to the lounge. The family arrived bit by bit, until Uncle Percy's family arrived, complete with grandchildren. They all lived locally so there was no need to put the little ones up in the nursery, although it was still proving its worth when they needed changing. They had to be watched; Percy had wound them up with the old legend about pirate Jack Sinclair's treasure being hidden somewhere inside the house, and they were rampaging around trying to find it. I didn't want the walls of my nicely re-decorated bedrooms being pounded to pieces as they tried to find hollow bits. There were plenty of creaking floorboards available, most of which I had tried in my childhood - without success. I went in to the nursery just before lunch, and found changes in progress. Viola's daughter Alison had obviously been done, and was not too happy at being found there, backing into a corner as I came in. Chloe, Alice's eldest, was running her fingers around the leg elastics, adjusting them for comfort as was allowed. Only little Gina was still on the changing table and completely unabashed. At five years old and the youngest, she had no reason to be embarrassed while the older girls were wearing nappies too, and she greeted me cheerfully. I felt a tiny bit envious of their neatly-fitted nappies and the comfort and sense of security they provided, but I couldn't emulate them here. The big ones were safely locked away in the big cupboard at the end. After the holiday, perhaps, over the New Year, I would indulge myself. I went down to the lounge, where Peter was regaling Matt and Percy with stories of the Belize Confrontation over a rapidly-declining bottle of Sherry. I made a point of topping up Dad's glass before retreating to the kitchen, where sister Juliet and her daughter, the indefatigable Sally, were working on the Christmas lunch. Lunch happened in the same old way, but with Matt at the head of the table and myself at the foot, even though Admiral Sir Peter was present; I was the lady of Pembroke, and I took precedence. Such was my moment of triumph. The children sat at a side table, which allowed them a bit of liberty, although Sally kept a sharp eye on them. At least any serious accidents would be well contained. They were allowed to leave the table whenever they were replete, only us adults had to remain to toast the King. Then we went to listen to his speech. We sat a while before Matt got busy on the computer, and arranged a video call to Vickie and Simon in Washington in which we all partook. Simon's position as Naval attaché meant he was effectively on duty all the time, and they couldn't make it over here. The five-hour time difference meant it was still morning over there, but the generation of feeling was still very strong. After a while, the conversation migrated to my restoration of Pembroke, which met with great approval, and I mentioned the work being done to convert the laundry into a cottage, which was met with some cynicism by Percy and Juliet. They asked me how did I expect our nonagenarian parents to ever cope with the stairs? In fairness, I admitted it hadn't occurred to me. "Let's go and look at it!" said Peter and there was a general stirring. We all migrated to the kitchen door, but as I passed the toilet I felt I needed to go, however, I was pushed along by the crowd. It wasn't too cold outside and soon we were in the shelter of the laundry, lit by the naked bulbs of the building team. That was much brighter than I remember, although it's usual decor of drying nappies was absent. Juliet looked around an sniffed "Not much room here. Are you planning to restore the first floor?" I nodded. We looked at the huge chimney breast that dominated the room, now stripped of its plaster and naked in its brickwork. "What's that?" said Alison. "Well that's where the fireplace was. It was a kitchen, so they had a very big one." I replied. Huge, ugly, but a handsome feature. "No, I meant That!" she protested pointing at the arch of bricks in the side of the fireplace. "Oh, that would have been the bread oven, a big hole where they put the lumps of dough to bake into bread." I replied. It was all bricked up years and years ago, but the bricks were modern, not the thin Tudor bricks like the rest of the chimney breast. Alison, the oldest of the three, walked over with a hammer from the builder's toolbag and hit the bricks. "Sounds hollow!" she said. "Oh Gawd," I thought, "we're back to hunting treasure. I need the toilet!" It was becoming pressing. Little Georgina toddled over and reached up, the hemline of her dress lifted and showed that she had already solved that problem and needed a change. For a moment I was distracted, and envied her such a simple solution. "That would be a terrific feature if we opened it up and put some brass ornaments in there to catch the light!" said Juliet "Let's try!" said Haldane, heretofore unusually quiet, and he stepped over to the builder's bag and picked out a hammer and chisel. Peter did the same. This was going to get dusty, so I used the excuse to pick up Georgina and slip out of the door, nodding to Alice and mentioning that I would give her child a change. Alice nodded, and made a beeline for her elder daughter, doubtless with the same objective. Pleasantly relieved, I expected the girls to stay in the warmth of the nursery, but they would have none of it, so they were allowed to put on their coats and return to the laundry. When I, also coated, made it back, there were several bricks missing from the hole and both Peter and Haldane were hammering vigorously. "There's something in there!" exclaimed Alison, jumping up and down with excitement as two more bricks hit the floor. "Big wooden box!" added Haldane. "Weighs a ton!" said Peter. They both reached in, and muscles strained as they pulled the box forward, grinding on the dirt. It reached beyond the lip of the oven when gravity asserted itself and it overbalanced and fell to the floor with a mighty crash. One corner broke open, and a torrent of coins slipped out, gleaming gold in the light of the single bulb.

Chapter 40: Splish, splash, giggles, and bubbles filled the air as Mommy carefully maneuvered me through the soapy waters. The rubber duckie bobbed nearby, seemingly joining in our playful symphony. The bathwater embraced the warmth of the room, creating a cocoon of comfort that softened the reality of my peculiar situation. "Time to get out, my little water sprite!" Mommy chimed, her voice infused with a delightful mix of motherly care and gentle playfulness. She reached for the fluffy towel, her blue eyes locked onto mine. The anticipation of what would follow tugged at the edges of my consciousness, a blend of childish delight and lingering reluctance. With practiced ease, Mommy guided me from the tub, cradling me against her chest as I stepped onto the bathroom floor. The soft towel enveloped my wet body as she began the tender task of drying me off. "There we go, snug as a bug," she cooed, a melodic rhythm in her voice that seemed to transcend the ordinary. Every gentle rub of the towel was accompanied by a soothing word, weaving a narrative of care and affection. As she dried between my toes, I couldn't help but squirm, as he tickled my feet. Mommy's fingers lingered, delicately patting my bare bottom, and a soft sigh escaped my lips. There was a peculiar intimacy in this routine, a vulnerability laid bare beneath the guise of innocent play. The remnants of bathwater glistened on my skin. The bathroom, once a mundane space, had transformed into a sanctuary of soothing rituals and tender moments. I stared into Mommy's eyes, a silent exchange of understanding passing between us. With a final brush of the towel against my damp hair, she set the towel aside. As Mommy cradled me in her arms, I turned my face ever so slightly and caught a gimps of our reflections in the bathroom mirror. The surface awaited offering an unfiltered glimpse of the transformed being I had become. The sight that met my eyes elicited a strange mixture of awe and melancholy. The once robust physique of a 20-something-year-old had succumbed to the whims of a peculiar regression, leaving me adorned in baby pudge that seemed to soften every contour. I squinted at the reflection, trying to reconcile the image with the memories of my former self. The manhood that had once defined my masculinity had seemingly vanished, replaced by the innocent curves of a toddler's physique. My gaze lingered on the reflection, a silent observer of the enigma that now stared back at me. "See, isn't that a cute little baby in the mirror?" Mommy cooed, her voice a gentle reminder of the role I now inhabited. The mirror offered no protest, faithfully reflecting the transformation that had taken root within me. The stark reality was softened by the tenderness in Mommy's voice, a reassurance that echoed through the confines of our shared space. Mommy's gaze met mine in the mirror, her eyes conveying a blend of understanding and unwavering affection. "There's my precious little one," she murmured, as if coaxing me to accept the image that now defined my existence. With a gentle sway, Mommy guided me out of the bathroom, my bare bottom and shrunken manhood completely exposed as we traversed the familiar terrain of our home, Mommy's reassuring coos providing a comforting backdrop to the ongoing saga of my transformation. Upon reaching the nursery, Mommy gently guided me onto the changing table. The surface, adorned with the familiar softness of a changing pad, cradled me as Mommy prepared to orchestrate the nightly ritual of diapering. The air was filled with the subtle scent of baby powder, a fragrance that now seamlessly intertwined with the fabric of my daily life. As I lay there, Mommy's hands moved with practiced grace as she swiftly went to work, using baby wipes to cleanse and refresh my sensitive skin. The cool touch of the wipes against my nether regions elicited a reflexive squirm—a reminder that, despite the veneer of adulthood that lingered in my consciousness, my body had embraced the sensitivities of infancy. A sprinkle of baby powder followed, its delicate fragrance enveloping the air. Mommy's hands, warm and nurturing, worked diligently to secure the nighttime diaper around me. The crinkling symphony resumed as the tapes adhered to the soft plastic surface, cocooning me in a layer of protective padding. Mommy guided me into a cozy footed sleeper, its soft fabric cocooning me in warmth. The footed sleeper, cradled me in a plush cocoon of softness and warmth. Its fabric, a delicate blend of pastel hues and whimsical patterns. The footies, adorned with tiny, non-slip prints, completed the ensemble, ensuring every inch of my lower extremities was embraced by the cozy embrace of babywear. As Mommy expertly zipped up the sleeper, the metallic hum of the zipper resonated like a lullaby, weaving a sense of security with every inch it closed. The cuffs of the sleeper, hugging my wrists and ankles, created a barrier against the cool night air, cocooning me in a sensory embrace. The whimsical patterns adorning the sleeper told a story of teddy bears, playful clouds, and the innocence of childhood. Nestled in Mommy's comforting embrace, she cradled me in the plush cushions of the rocking chair. The rhythmic creak of the chair blended harmoniously with the soft hum of nursery rhymes playing in the background, creating a soothing melody. The bottle, a familiar companion in these nurturing moments, was gently pressed to my lips. The nipple, once a conduit for regular nourishment, now delivered a concoction that sent ripples of surprise through my taste buds. The liquid within, an unusual blend of sweetness and a subtle tanginess, danced on my tongue in a symphony of unexpected flavors. The sweetness, reminiscent of childhood treats, carried hints of nostalgia that momentarily whisked me away to simpler times. Yet, underlying the sweetness there lingered a faint sour note. As I suckled on the bottle, my eyes met Mommy's gaze. The warmth in her eyes, coupled with the tender cradle of her arms, provided reassurance in the face of this unexpected twist in my nightly routine. Mommy cradled me in her arms, the rocking chair swaying gently as I took hesitant sips from the bottle. The taste, a perplexing blend of sweetness and tanginess, had caught me off guard, leaving a furrowed brow and a quizzical expression on my face. "Oh, sweetheart, don't you worry," Mommy cooed, her voice a soothing melody. "It's just the special protein powder that Dr. Stevens recommended for you. It's going to help you grow big and strong. Her words carried a reassuring tone, attempting to alleviate any confusion that lingered in my babyish mind. The mention of protein powder, a dietary addition suggested by the pediatrician during our visit over a week ago, explained the unexpected flavor profile. Mommy reached for a nearby shelf, carefully extracting a brightly colored canister. My eyes focused on the container she held in her hands. In the haze of my sleepy, infantilized state, the can seemed to blur at the edges, its details swimming in a swirl of pastel hues. With a gentle coo, Mommy presented the can to me, her fingers tracing its label as if revealing a cherished secret. The can, adorned with playful illustrations and soft lettering, resembled something familiar yet elusive. "It's your special formula, sweetheart," Mommy whispered, her voice a lullaby. "Dr. Stevens said it's going to make you big and strong." With a resigned sigh, I relinquished my attempt to decipher the label on the canister. The symbols and words remained elusive, shrouded in the haze of my infantile mindset. Closing my eyes, I embraced the rhythmic suckling on the baby bottle, its silicone nipple a familiar presence between my lips. As the sweet concoction flowed into my mouth, a curious blend of flavors unfolded on my tongue. The unexpected sweetness and subtle tang of the protein-infused liquid stirred my senses, each sip a reminder of the mysterious canister's contents. The world beyond the closed lids of my eyes retreated, and I surrendered to the comforting embrace of the rocking chair, the gentle sway echoing the lull of Mommy's whispers. The act of suckling on the bottle became a rhythmic dance, a soothing ritual that whisked away the complexities of yet another day.

I tried to search, but couldn't find this one.

I've done that before. Once I sat down, read your thread, then wrote up something of my own, which didn't even referenced what you'd written... and then posted it on your thread, thinking I had at some point moved over to mine. It would be like me coming to Australia and then inviting some friends over for beers in your backyard. Which I would tell you about, while we were sitting in your backyard. "Oh, by the way..."

Part 22 Noelle, in fact, did not come rushing downstairs to put an end to all this. She was no doubt still working or relaxing upstairs, blissfully unaware what was going on during her babysitting break. As annoyed as I was that she refused to listen to me, thanks to how the real Miley was a manipulative little brat, it’s not like this was actually Noelle’s fault. Most of the blame fell on Paige, as well as her friends. Despite everything, however, I could fully pin this on my sister. I could have stayed upstairs with Noelle and played the part of an academically driven ‘Miley.’ Before taking a single step into the basement, I had known that I would be outnumbered and at a total disadvantage. Instead of waiting it out and maybe convincing the babysitter to make a phone call at some point after playing things safe for a while, I had taken the bait that had come in the form of my ID being flashed to me. And here I was, desperate enough for my driver’s license that I was about to cut up three of my best bras just to hear the deal that Paige had in mind. I couldn’t delay things forever. Since Violet had told me not to rush, I could justify not jumping right into the first cut, but only for so long. At the same time, I didn’t want to look scared or hesitant in front of Paige and all of her friends. They were already treating me like I was her younger sister, and the last thing I needed was to give them another reason to tease or taunt me. So I took a mental breath for courage, resisting the urge to do so out loud as well, and snipped the lace bra between the cups. “Your poor bra!” Paige giggled. Her demeanor didn’t match her sentiment in the slightest. “Keep going, little sister. You have sixty seconds to do all three, or the deal is off.” Wait, what? “Paige, you-” “59 seconds,” she said. “But don’t go too fast,” Violet reminded me. “58 seconds.” “Okay, okay! You don’t have to count every second,” I groaned. No longer putting the task off, I tried to split the difference between what both girls were telling me. Watching the cups of the ruined bra fall apart had been the worst part, so the next bit was more manageable anyway. I held up the white lace for everyone to see, and methodically cut both sides of the band off next, followed by the straps. More or less the same way Paige had done it, so the bra cups were no longer attached to anything. Or, in other words, so there was no way the nice undergarment could be salvaged. I went through the same process with the black bra, internally cringing at the first cut. It was such a simple action on the surface, but it was also painful to watch something so personal and so expensive be destroyed just like that. There wasn’t much time to linger on those feelings, as Paige was happy to announce that I only had thirty seconds left. I cut up the rest of the bra more efficiently, then handed the pieces to Violet. She had taken the first little pile of fabric off my lap, so I went with the option that better maintained my personal space the second time around. If Paige hadn’t put a clock on me, I would have hesitated a little more when it came to the sky blue bra. It was such a good color on me, especially in terms of complementing my hair, and it also one of the best ‘special occasion’ bras I owned in terms of making my not so impressive chest look a little more sexy and mature with the way it hugged my upper curves and created more cleavage than I normally had. Not quite as amazing as the dark green number, but a close second, especially with how it looked with the matching thong. I prayed that this one was still in stock, and hadn’t been rotated out for a new collection. That was most likely the case, although maybe I could find it online or something. Either way, I couldn’t dwell on it. Ripping off the bandaid before my sister’s countdown gave her the option to smugly proclaim that I had cut up all my bras for nothing, I sliced through the light blue cups and hoped that my face didn’t show the instant regret of doing so. I was in too deep at this point, anyway. Including the bra Paige had destroyed, I had already lost three. In the grand scheme of things, four wasn’t that much worse. Although the process had certainly been bookended with my favorites; the maroon and the sky blue were easily in my top three. I tried to take some solace in the fact that my selfish step-sister would definitely be on the hook for this when our parents returned from their trip. I’d have to buy some new bras within a few days to replace the ones now in shreds, but I could live with that if I knew she would be stuck reimbursing me in a month or two. And, on top of that, getting in trouble for putting me through all this and maybe also taking some heat for causing the real Miley to be living it up this weekend without a sitter. Similar to the last couple bras, the first cut was the worst and most daunting part. Once I got through that, the damage had already been done, and it was easier to make myself snip through the straps and band. Once again refraining from letting out an audible sigh of annoyance and frustration, I passed over the third and final bra to Violet. “Well, that was fun,” Paige said, “And good job, Miley. You did it with about five seconds to spare. Although we’re not quite done yet, are we? The deal was for your bras AND underwear, remember?” For a moment, I thought she was going to somehow go back on her word or come up with a barely logical loophole. Something that would put more of my bras in danger, and simultaneously testing to see how far I would let her move the goalpost. Instead, she brought up something that was very much within the original bet we had made. While losing a few pairs of nicer underwear wasn’t the end of the world now that the more expensive part of the set had already been ruined, it was still another way for Paige to ‘innocently’ stall. We both knew what I was waiting for, and why I was down here in the first place, but first I had to suffer through losing more of my delicates beyond just having them taken from my drawer. More insult to injury, considering the violation of her entering my bedroom and confiscating countless things was already a lot to deal with when we normally had boundaries as sisters. “Ooh, can I have a turn?” Annika asked, “I mean, I totally deserve it. She called me a bitch, plus I was obviously carrying our team.” “Sure,” Paige nodded, “But I totally helped. You can’t take all the credit.” “Mm hmm. Whatever you say! First, I want Miley to apologize. It’s fucking rude to use language like that, especially when saying it to an older girl who literally did nothing wrong.” “Good idea. There’s literally no reason for a girl your age to be swearing anyway, sis. How about an apology?” I looked at both of them in disbelief. Was cutting up my precious bras not enough? Everyone in the room knew I didn’t actually say anything like that a few minutes ago, and yet they were still continuing the fantasy anyway. I found myself caught in another obnoxious lose/lose situation. Argue, and they would all back each other up. Go along with it, and feed into the bullshit claim about what I had said. Plus this was just another way to drag all of this out further, when I was trying to expedite this part to the best of my ability. Watching my underwear get cut up by Paige’s friend without a word of protest was one thing, since I had begrudgingly agreed to the earlier bet. But apologizing to her for something I hadn’t even said? That didn’t make any sense. In the back of my mind, I knew that simply saying ‘sorry’ anyway was the quickest route forward. Still, I couldn’t just roll over when I had already done so much as ‘Miley’ for them. “Just finish the bet,” I rolled my eyes. Gesturing to the bag of underwear and bras, I said what we all knew, “That was the deal. I didn’t call Annika anything.” “Rude,” Annika replied, “Last chance, Miley. Sure you don’t want to apologize?” Honestly, I wasn’t. It was such a dumb hill to die on, especially when I had already suffered through ‘anything you say, Paige’ and ‘I’m Miley.’ It was a little embarrassing how quickly my resolve crumbled, although I took a little solace in the fact that I was only allowing myself to cave in the name of getting all of this over with. “Fine,” I muttered, unintentionally sounding a bit like a girl who was the real Miley’s age thanks to how forced and blunt the apology came out, “I’m sorry.” “Better than nothing,” Annika shrugged, “Would’ve preferred a real apology, but I guess little Miley hasn’t learned how to properly do something like that. I blame you, Paige. Aren’t older sisters supposed to set a good example?” “It’s not my fault,” Paige rolled her eyes, “She’s always been a stuck-up little bitch. Honestly, I’m not surprised Noelle assumed things the way she did. Apparently we’re not the only ones who can see right through you, sis.” Fuck her. Except I was already being made to apologize for swearing that I didn’t say. If I was baited into cursing any of them out for real, getting my ID would take even longer. Of course, it didn’t help that all of them were now constantly swearing while simultaneously getting on my case about it. The frequency was no doubt intentional, and I tried not to let the annoyance show on my face. “You are kind of like Miley, aren’t you?” Violet chimed in. She pulled me a little closer by our linked arms. “I’ve only seen her once or twice, but she’s about your size.” “What else?” Paige asked, “Let’s see . . . our Miley is a pain in the ass.” “Our Miley thinks she knows best,” Dakota said. Shannon added, “And is a total brat about it, too. She’s so shrill when she gets up on that high horse.” “Kind of whiny, too,” Annika giggled, before shifting to a higher pitch, “You’re using up all the internet. And the hot water!” “You really do whine a lot, sis,” Paige said. She picked up the bag full of my undergarments and set it on Annika’s lap. “That’s why this will be good for you. Just sit still, Miley, and be quiet. We’ll chat when Annika is done.” ------------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And read more of "The Babysitter" (40+ parts) and other stories on my SubscribeStar: https://subscribestar.adult/lady-lucia

Chapter 4: Eyes that know too much Aidan caught my eye, and in it, I saw a flicker of understanding—or was it pity? His hand found mine, a firm grip that yanked me back to the present, away from the suffocating cloud of embarrassment. Weaving through the throng of students, he led me like I was some lost kid at a fair. I could feel the stares drilling into my back, the whispers that scuttled from mouth to ear. "Check out diaper boy," someone snickered, a jab that knotted my insides tighter. Aidan notices my distress and squeezes my hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, little guy," he says softly. "We'll get you cleaned up quickly and get you back to your day.” * * * The door to the changing station swung open, and the scene inside mocked everything I was. Huge changing tables lined the walls, their surfaces gleaming under the bright lights. Each one bore straps decorated with cartoons – grinning bears and dancing rabbits – their cheerfulness a stark contrast to the dread knotting my stomach. I clenched my fists tighter, nails digging into my palms as if they could anchor me to a reality where this wasn't happening. But it was no use; this was Amazonia's reality, and I was caught in its snare. Aidan guided me to one of the tables. "It's for your own good," he said softly. But his words sounded hollow against the backdrop of infantile illustrations staring back at me. "I'm not some... some baby," I muttered, the fight simmering beneath my breath. My underwear felt like a thin shield of dignity that I clung to desperately. "No one thinks you are," Aidan tried to reassure me. But we both knew it was a lie painted over an unforgiving truth. I stumbled against the table's edge, its height forcing me to crane my neck upward. The cold surface seemed to wait for me with open arms – an invitation to surrender all that I was. A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined myself lying there, helpless and exposed. "You don't have to do this," I pleaded one last time, hoping for an ounce of mercy in Aidan's eyes. But all he did was offer a sad smile that didn't reach his eyes. "It's just how things are done here," he whispered as if sharing a secret I already knew but wished to forget. I looked down at my hands, now open and empty by my sides. The defiance drained from them like water through open fingers, leaving behind only the dread of what was about to come. "Please," I begged, my voice cracking under the weight of my plea. "Just let me clean myself up. I don't need... this." I gestured helplessly at the looming tables with their juvenile restraints. He looked at me with those eyes that seemed to understand too much, yet offered no reprieve. "Listen, it's not about what you need or don't need. It's about following the rules here. You know that." Anger flared within me, a desperate fire against the cold reality of his words. "But these aren't my rules!" I shouted, louder than I intended. "I'm not one of your... your little to be diapered and coddled!" Aiden's expression softened for a moment, but it was like watching empathy from behind a glass wall – close enough to see, too far to touch. "I know you're not," he said quietly. "But causing a scene won't change anything." "Fine," I said at last, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "Do what you must." And with that surrender. Aiden's hands were gentle, but firm as they guided my wrists into the straps. "There we go, just a little snug so you don't wiggle around too much," he cooed, the straps clicking into place. His voice held that sing-song quality used on unruly kids, grating against my every nerve. I tugged at the restraints, a futile attempt to free myself. The straps held fast, unyielding. I exhaled a defeated sigh, feeling every bit the part of a misbehaving child they saw me as. "Now let's get you out of those icky pants," Aiden continued, his tone absurdly soothing as he peeled away the last of my dignity along with my soiled clothes. "Accidents happen, but we'll have you all fresh and clean in no time!" I lay there, stripped of more than just my clothes—stripped of pride, autonomy, adulthood. "I'm not a kid," I murmured, the protest weak even to my own ears. Aiden chuckled softly. "Of course you're not. You're just a big boy who had a little mishap. Happens to the best of us!" His words felt like pats on the head, well-meaning but utterly patronizing. Heat crept up my cheeks as I lay there exposed, the childish prints on the straps mocking me from above. "Just... just get it over with," I muttered, wishing I could sink through the table and disappear. His hands, steady and impersonal, slipped under my knees, lifting them with a practiced ease that had no place in my world of wrenches and engines. "This isn't how it's supposed to be," I muttered, my voice betraying a tremble I hadn't intended. The smell was overwhelming, and I squirmed in discomfort as he reached for a warm, wet wipe. The wipe was rough against my skin as he scrubbed away at the mess, paying special attention to the creases and folds where dirt tended to accumulate. It was an intimate and humiliating experience, but I felt a sense of relief as the wipe began to clean me up. As he continued to clean me, I could feel his fingers probing deeper into my crevices, searching for any traces of waste that may have been missed. It was an invasive feeling, but I remained still and cooperative as he worked. "There you go, almost done," he cooed, as if his soothing tone could somehow make the situation less degrading. "It's not fair," I grumbled under my breath, the words spilling out like oil from a leaky gasket. "I'm not some kid who can't handle himself." "I know it doesn't seem fair," Aiden replied, his voice calm and infuriatingly reasonable. "But it's just how things work around here. You'll get used to it." * * * My eyes fix on Aidan as he grabs a diaper from the stack, the sound of it fluffing up like some mocking applause. He unfolds it with a swift motion, his hands practiced and sure. I can't believe this is happening. The plastic backing crinkles loudly in the silent room. "Legs up, Bix," Aidan instructs, his voice calm and without a trace of mockery. I comply, feeling every shred of my dignity peeling away with the sound of the diaper rustling beneath me. He slides it under my backside, the cool touch of the inner lining sending a shiver up my spine. The front gets pulled up between my legs, snug against my skin. "Easy now, it'll be over before you know it," he says, almost gently. I clench my jaw to keep from spitting out the anger boiling inside me. The tapes secure with a definitive ripping sound, each one a nail in the coffin of my adulthood. He adjusts the fit, ensuring it's tight enough not to leak but not so much that it'd chafe. "This is ridiculous," I grumbled, unable to keep the bitterness from seeping into my voice. "It's just how things are done here," Aiden replied, sliding the diaper under me with an efficiency that only deepened my humiliation. "Better safe than sorry, right?" Aidan unbuckles the straps that held me down during this ordeal and helps me off the table with a firm hand under my arm. As I find my feet, he gives a pat to the back of my newly adorned garment, making me cringe at the soft puffing noise it makes against my backside. "See? All done," Aidan says with an infuriating hint of pride in his voice. I stand there for a moment, frozen by humiliation and disbelief. Then, almost involuntarily, my hand drifts down to explore this alien thing hugging my hips. I press against it; the childish drawings on its surface – little rockets and stars – —the bulk between my legs and the way it forced my thighs apart just slightly do nothing to comfort me. Instead, they scream out that I'm no longer seen as an adult here. I sigh heavily, feeling each crinkle echo through the room like distant thunder. "Happy now?" I mutter bitterly under my breath. "Thanks," I muttered sarcastically. "Nothing like being babied to boost your self-esteem." Aiden's expression softened slightly. "Hey, don't let it get to you. You're not the first to have an accident around here." "Yeah? Well, it doesn't exactly feel like an accomplishment." I sighed heavily and looked down at myself—a grown man dressed in what was essentially an oversized baby diaper decorated with flying cartoons. I took an experimental step and winced at the unmistakable sound that followed. This was going to be a long semester. *** Aiden snagged my hand, his grip firm, like I was some wayward toddler instead of a guy who had built his first engine at ten. "Come on, Bix, let's get you home." I yanked back, the heat of anger flushing my cheeks. "No way am I walking across campus like this!" He tilted his head, and his voice dropped to that singsong lilt Bigs used when they thought they were being soothing. "Don't throw a fit, little man. You don't want a spanking here, do you?" My teeth clenched so tight I thought they might crack. The threat, wrapped in childish taunting, made my blood boil. But what choice did I have? A public spanking would only add to my current shame. So, I fell into step beside him, my shoes scuffing against the floor as if to voice my silent protest. I was a bundle of raw nerves, every sound and sensation amplified. And then it happened—the sudden warmth spreading against my skin, the softness beneath me giving way to an unmistakable squish. My stomach lurched; this couldn't be real. My steps faltered as the mess shifted with each movement—a grim reminder of my current state. Aiden glanced over, no sympathy in his eyes. "Keep moving," he ordered. But I was rooted to the spot, terror freezing me as another wave of warmth flooded the front of the diaper. Giggles from passing Bigs pierced me like a barrage of bullets. Laughter bubbled up around us like poison gas—Bigs snickering as they passed by. Their eyes were on me, on the sagging diaper now heavy with my shame. "Looks like someone's had an accident," one called out in amusement. "Aw, does the little baby need his mommy?" another teased with a cruel smile. Aiden tugged on my hand again, harder this time. "We don't have all day." I stumbled forward, the weight of the used diaper dragging me down with every step. It clung to me like a second skin—a loathsome, squelching layer that broadcasted my humiliation with each movement. As we walked on—Aiden unfazed and me fighting back tears—I could feel it sagging between my legs, the once crisp material now a sodden mess sticking uncomfortably to my thighs. The padding squished audibly beneath me, a constant reminder of what had just transpired. The dorms loomed ahead—a sanctuary in sight—but with each step I took in that disgusting diaper, it felt more like a walk of shame than anything else.

4. The Bathroom Break “So, in between the men’s and women’s toilets, there’s a unisex locking door toilet with a baby change station. You two head there first, and I’ll follow shortly after. When you hear this knock”, she demonstrated on the table,” open the door for me”. She winked at them and said, “OK – off you go pumpkins!”. Mikey and Josh got up and headed to the toilets. Mikey could see Josh was trying his best to conceal his diaper waddle as much as he was. They reached the empty bathroom - looked around (no one was watching) and both ducked in the bathroom. They stood there behind the closed door. “Uhhhm – k-kind of weird, huh?” Josh said to him as he nervously giggled. “Uhhm… haha… uhm ya.” Mikey replied, blushing heavily. They stood there awkwardly for 30 seconds both keenly aware of the strange, crazy, and unreal situation they were in – both in nervous anticipation of what was going to happen next. The knock came at the door. She strode in, locked the door behind her, went right for the toilet at the back of the room and sat down on it. She lifted up her tight leather skirt and spread her legs. She was not wearing underwear and they could both see her glistening pussy as she looked them in the eyes. “Ok sweethearts, lets drop those pants now and undo your jumpers.” They instantly obeyed and started undoing the straps to their overall jeans. They did not look at her as their pants fell to their ankles and they both reached under their crotches to undo the snaps to their baby jumpers. They both pulled down their plastic pants to their ankles and hiked their hoodies and jumpers up to their chest. She started caressing her pussy in front of them, getting a good long look at their slender early 20s hairless bodies in their bulky diapers. “Mmm… Ok - peepee time babies!” she said, “I want to see those wet patches spreading”. They both had a bout of stage fright and couldn’t really go. They struggled in front of her, eyes closed, knock kneed – trying to make a peepee for Mommy. “C’mon little ones,” she breathed, “tinkle, tinkle!” As she said this, she let go a stream of pee from between her open legs and it splashed loudly into the toilet. He heard a sigh from Josh and realized he had started peeing as the yellow patch spread across the front of his diaper. At that Mikey let go with a loud groaning “aaahhh” and flooded his diaper with hot peepee. They were all peeing together. To Mikey it was a blissful moment that seemed to go on for several minutes. The hot piss absorbing into the front of his diaper, the tickle as the remainder ran down and dripped off his smooth shaved balls into the crotch beneath. They both sighed and squeezed their legs together to feel the warm comforting wetness. They all finished at roughly the same time. The boys stood there now with their wet expanded disposable diapers bulging between their legs. Looking fully absorbed in how good it felt to be in a wet diaper in front of Mommy. “Phew – wasn’t that just lovely?” Mommy said, “Ok little Mikey, waddle yourself over in front of Mommy, and kneel down in front of her. Mommy doesn’t like using the nasty toilet paper in these public restrooms.” He did as commanded and soon had his face inches from her pink wet mommy pussy. “Come here and stand behind him Joshy”, as he did this, she wet two of her fingers thoroughly in her sopping pussy and stuck them in Joshes mouth. He stared sucking them and moaning. “OK, Mikey baby, you clean Mommy up down there real good!” She shoved his face between her legs and Mikey started lapping up Mommy’s dribbling pee and juices thoroughly and slowly. She closed her eyes and moaned as the boys lapped up what she gave them. “Mmmm… Ok my sweeties, stand up in front of mommy again and show her your diapees”. They stood there in front of her as she felt the front of their hot pissy diapers. The were both extremely hard now and Mikey could tell that Josh had a much bigger cock than his pathetic little sissy clit. She breathed softly as she squeezed there hardons under their wet diapers. “Turn around boys and lean over the sink counter”, she ordered. As they did this, she slipped both her hands down the back of their diapers. Her fingers found their way to the boys bumholes and she started rubbing them – mixing her fingers into the hot pissy baby oil and Vaseline. They both gasped as she pushed her index fingers deep into their boy holes. She moved them around searchingly. They both bent further over the sink counter and moaned as she playfully finger fucked them. “Ohh, little Joshy is almost ready, Good boy!” as she said this Mikey realized she was doing a poopoo check – seeing if there was one ready to come out. “Little Mikey has longer to go – but Mommy will fix that”, she pushed her finger harder in Mikeys bum making him wince. Suddenly she pulled both her hands out of their diapers. “Ok babies, lets get back to the table – people will start to get suspicious…hehehe…. Get yourself dressed back up! No changies yet! There's still room in there for more!” She was laughing as she left the bathroom. She didn’t lock the door and a woman almost came into the toilet after her and saw two horny boys, bent over the sink, pants around their ankles in wet diapers. Josh luckily hopped to the door and locked it just in time. They quickly pulled up their plastics, snapped up the bottoms of their jumpers and pulled up their overalls. The two boys waddled past the woman, eyes cast downward, made their way back to the table with blushing faces, and sat in their hot squishy wet diapers – which were much larger now that they were expanded with pee. Mommy had filled up their wine glasses again and they drank huge gulps of them after they sat. There was a slightly bitter gritty taste to the wine this time…

Just before December ended, I made an appointment at a local clinic that does trans stuff. Today I had that appointment, Was prescribed 2 things but I wont be able to pick them up til a few weeks due to the estrogen not being covered by my prescription plan and making sure I have the legal tender to pay for it. These past 6-7 months have seen me start to lose weight. Last month I had a euphoria about the weight loss and this month I have started to try and walk every day at least 2 miles, since this is snowy winter time, there may be times I cannot walk and I cant just go to a gym(I could) but my walks help contribute to my photography hobby. There are jokes on the internets about estrogen pills being compared to the candy called Skittles and that the pills can be called Tittles, my estrogen is being prescribed as patches, I shall tall them Tiddy Stickers. This comes at a possibly bad time where state politics are concerned and the governor is trying to ban trans care for all ages by issuing an executive order(effective immediately...) to get that kind of thing in motion. This was done last Friday, The state house might be overriding that with a vote sometime this week.

You think that they media would not believe any scenarios espoused on Reddit r/AmITheAsshole or Quora. Almost always this is the one-hand typing at work. There are dozens of these unlikely scenarios. https://toofab.com/2024/01/11/boy-forced-by-christian-parents-into-giant-diaper-at-sleepover-rescued-by-mom/?adid=social-tmzlikeshop

New story! THE DIAPER DATE 1. Mikey Mikey had a nervous fluttering in his stomach as he entered the restaurant. He was wearing baggy overalls and a bulky oversized hoody that extended down almost to his mid-thighs. Underneath it he was wearing a bright blue tight jumper that snapped under his crotch concealing an adult diaper and plastic pants. He was very conscious of his slight waddle and the crinkle the diaper made as he walked. Mikey was 22 with shaggy brown hair and very slight build – he barely weighed 125lbs. He looked much younger – in his late teens - and was quite “twink”-ish and effeminate, despite his experience being completely heterosexual up until this point in his life. He had a sheepish look now on is face as his eyes skirted around the restaurant scanning the patrons. He was here to meet “Mommy Olivia” – this was the only name she’d given. They had started chatting about a month and a half ago - 1st on a popular diaper fetish site – then through the kik app and video chat. Mikey had become interested in ABDL fetishes a few years ago – finding it fascinating in some “primal” way – something hitting a chord deep within him. He found the idea comforting – being fastened into a warm absorbent disposable diaper and being free to wet or mess in it when he felt. When he saw pictures of beautiful women on the internet wearing diapers and baby cloths, he began masturbating to ABDL and diaper messing porn (often behind the backs of the 2 girlfriends he’d had since high school). This was EXTREMELY exciting to him, and he felt very “naughty” for doing so. This type of porn had now completely replaced any other theme, and he only seem to want to watch diaper and “diaper adjacent” videos. He’d become more and more obsessed with it until he’d finally broken down and ordered himself a 10 pack of adult diapers and a pair of plastic pants. Since he lived in his parent’s basement, he was very nervous about being found out by them and had arranged a package pickup at a local courier outlet instead of having them shipped directly to his house. His routine had started by secretly wearing them at night (his crotch and bum area slathered with Vaseline and baby oil underneath) and peeing them while watching diaper porn. He masturbated after they were soaked by rubbing against a large round couch cushion in his diaper - his little 4” dick cumming in the soggy mess of pee and Vaseline inside it before falling asleep contented in his warm wet cummy diaper. He masturbated to girls messing their diapers as well. He had a very keen interest in trying this himself – but due to his living arrangement, hadn’t yet tried it. This went on for quite some time – him carefully hiding his wet diapers from his parents – while his sexuality became increasingly more tied to this fetish. He ended up breaking up with his last girlfriend 6 months ago and now his whole sex life was devoted this diaper fetish. He had recently started chatting with other ABDLs on fetish sites and this is where he met “Mommy Olivia”. 2. Chatting with Mommy It had been quite an evolution of kink chat and games that they had engaged in during their frequent chats. He had cum hard the 1st few times as she guided him through his regular wet peepee diaper masturbation in the message function. She started insisting he call her “Mommy” and started messaging him more often when he was at his crappy job at Starbucks. She started getting him to send her photos of himself in a diaper and take videos of himself changing them and taking baths. She convinced him to start completely shaving all the hair off his body(except his lovely “brown shaggy mop” as she called his hair) until he was used to being bald everywhere. Then they were doing several hours of video chats in the evenings, as she guided him through everything he did during them. He didn’t know exactly how old she was, he guessed about 38-40, but she was still very beautiful and had a toned athletic body. She dressed in back vinal tops but wore a wear “Mom” apron over it with pink flowers. She never got naked on their chats, but he knew she was using a vibrator under her underwear off camera. One time he had to go poo during one of their chats and he excused himself to go to the loo – but she stopped him and insisted he do his poopies in his diaper. He had been very curious about this for the last few months but had been too scared his parents would discover him from the smell. She eventually talked him into it, and he pushed a big stinky log into the back of his diaper as she watched on the video chat… encouraging him with “Oh, what a good little baby boy!”, and “That’s it sweety - push now…”. She made him sit down on it and squish it in as she asked him to describe how it feels. When she guided him through his pillow cummies after - he never came so hard! He passed out after and woke up in his stinky diaper an hour later, panicked that the basement now stank of poo. He stated covertly changing, washing and getting rid of the evidence before his parents woke up, burning several incense sticks around his room. Next, she had him buy a small dildo and a butt plug online and guided him how to use them. He squatted in front of his web cam over his open wet diaper the 1st time he pushed the dildo into his pink virgin rosebud. He hadn’t even had a finger up there before. She cooed words of encouragement as he lowered himself on it groaning and gasping in pain- saying, ”Ooooh…I can’t do it Mommy! Owies!” – but eventually getting it all in. She made him sit in his diaper and fasten it around himself, lock the dildo in place up his bum – then masturbate on his pillow, the dildo pushing in and out of his little freshly stretched pucker – until he came with it inside him. She taught him how to use the butt plug and made him wear it under his diaper for his entire shift at Starbucks – denying him his morning poo and making him drink several cups of coffee during the shift till he was sweating and ready to explode - texting him often asking how it felt. She made him turn on his video chat as soon as he got home and strip down to his diaper – making him struggle and force the plug out as she watched and pleasured herself, until it finally came out in his diapers. He let out a huge moaning sigh as it was immediately followed by his days poopies. As he lay there breathing heavy – he watched her come hard over the video chat. She guided him through several kinky escapades over the month. She collected several videos of him in messy diapers, with open diapers, in sexual poses in front of the cameral, making him say submissive sissy baby talk things as she recorded. She told him how proud she was that his little sissy bumhole was getting looser and he was starting to enjoy the dildo and make his good cummies with it in. She was also proud he was making his diaper poopies more frequently and enjoying sitting in them like a good stinky baby. He lived for these sessions and lost all interest in finding a new girlfriend. He would do anything that Mommy asked at this point. And hornily anticipated the next kinky thing she would make him do in front of the camera. So, when she told him that she would be coming to his city next Saturday – and that they should meet up in person – he could not believe his excitement.

When I wear a diaper, especially if it's already somewhat wet, unless I'm squeezing my legs together while I walk (and thus waddling more, heh heh), it feels like the diaper is falling off. Is that normal? Or does it mean the diaper is too big, too small and not wrapping around my waist enough with the tapes, or just that I'm taping it wrong? Obviously with a onesie, this isn't an issue, but I'm wondering if I'm fundamentally messing up diapering myself, ha ha. I have very wide hips and a big belly, so maybe the issue is that the diaper is too small and the tapes aren't going around the diaper enough. Or maybe the diaper is too big and so it's loose. Or maybe I just need to pull the tapes even tighter when diapering. Curious if you have any advice on this.

Got the house to myself for about 3-1/2 hours unexpectedly after work today but have to get up early morning to go back to work. I have a cloth backed 4 tape attends with a booster pad good for about 3-1/2 hours, my new Rearz clear double layer plastic rustle pants over the diaper and then my new black Rearz Lil Rebels training pants. Only thing that will get wet is the diaper but the training pants add some bulk for sitting around the house.

I’m also in in a Rearz Daydreamer diaper but my booster is a Pampers diaper. This is my regular diaper combo. I have a variety of Rearz mega diapers but my booster is always Pampers. Super comfy all day long.

Amy: "What will we do with her now? She's crying. I don't wanna go too far. But I do want to make sure she learns her lesson" Julie: "I don't think we have a choice but to leave her all night. It's extreme, but I don't think she'll forget it. I never wanted to be mean and I don't like the idea, but she's not responding to the spankings and other punishments and she's not making much progress. I wanted to be more of a gentle Mommy, you know, while she's here. But I can't be one because she won't listen" Amy: "I agree. I don't like the idea either. But like you said, we have no other choice. If we both lift her, I think we can get her upstairs. We need her to never forget that babies are dependent on adults. They get changed when we say, they eat when we say, the go to bed when we say" And so the ladies put their plan into motion. They start to lift Kayla upstairs

Have a small scale? What’s the change in diaper weight?

Thanks Brian! Meter is moving slow this month!

Thicker is better and it's what I prefer as an adult baby. Thicker diapers give me the safety, security, and comfort. It also lets me waddle like the baby that I am because I am not ashamed if I waddle in my diaper. Thick diapers let people know I wear diapers and I am an adult baby.

I've tried holding it before to get bigger loads into my diaper, but then they get too firm. I preft my loads being softer, more maleable, and sticky. I love a good mess!

I ordered around first week of December and got in like 10 days...Once it got to Buffalo, it took 2 days. Pretty good speed for the holidays.

This is the clinic that several members have gone to here in this forum right? IDK, personally I would feel much more comfortable knowing the surgeon is reputable and paying a few more dollars then getting ??? in Thailand. Not saying that those surgeons aren't capable or safe but I would want to talk to previous patients in a situation like this.

Me too, although this surgery in itself is less invasive than the gender reassignment surgeries in which they specialise. But given the responses to these types of topics on this forum, I think they will receive more requests for this incontinence operation in the near future, so they will get used to it.

"Babies don't use that kind of language, honey. I keep telling you that. And I don't appreciate your attitude all day, young lady. Julie was nice enough to welcome us into her home, and you are acting like we never gave you any home training. And it's time for you to learn. You will be punished. But instead of spanking you, I'll be trying something new: I'm going to pick a random amount of time. And you'll be in that diaper until the time is up. If you curse, defy us, or asked to be changed, we will add time to the clock" she sets the amount of time as a timer on her phone and shows it to Julie. The time is a random amount of time under an hour. But for Kayla, not knowing exactly when she will be change will make the time longer. "You'll have plenty of time to get to know your dolly, huh? Now, put that paci back in your mouth. That's an order, young lady"

You can go to the TSA website and download this Notification card. The white bar is blank, but it lets you type in what you want. If you get stopped by the TSA in the airport, showing them this card gets you a private screening. This is the one I carry in my wallet. No, I have not had the chance to use it since I printed and laminated it.

Oh, so it is okay if the tape doesn't come around the front? I'm wearing a Crinklz Large FairyTale and the tapes only reach the sides. I tried angling them more downwards on the top and upwards for the bottom tape and it's staying up a bit better. I'll definitely try larger diapers and see if the tapes go to the front.

Sooooooo, alright, it depends what you mean by "good". What are you looking for? Cuteness, comfort, fit, something to just reinforce your little side discreetly, or something to actually use when you need to go? I heard about these newer sized XL goodnights and decided to see how they fit and, surprisingly they fit me super good....which honestly kinda blew me away. They are soft and comfy and, especially compared to the adult pull-ups available (granny panties ick...not cute), super cute. As far as actually using them, yes you can. What you can't do though is just like, open the floodgates. They, for one, are not made for a grown up sized bladder and for two, are made for kinda trickling into, not letting everything go at once. So if you just walk around and have "little accidents" from time to time, yeah they do alright. Otherwise, you'll have a leak, so be aware of that. Also consider that I am a girl, so my experience may differ from a boy's due to anatomy. That being said, I love them and they are going into my undie rotation.

Honestly, I feel your not presenting any facts or sources here and are just picking on me

Jennifer didn’t want to open her eyes. She was comfortable and warm, but she could hear footsteps coming. Probably Matilda wanting breakfast. But the sound was footsteps coming down the stairs, not up. “Daddy, I’m hungry.” she heard. Daddy? Jennifer opened her eyes to find a little girl standing over her, but she wasn’t Matilda. She looked around the room, confused. This wasn’t her house… And that wasn’t her daughter. She looked down and let out a gasp before pushing herself up as the memory of last night came to the forefront of her mind. She hadn’t been sleeping on a bed, she had been sleeping on a man! “G-good morning, Hazel.” Jennifer said in a shaky voice. At least she had put her shirt back on before she fell asleep. Hazel was staring at the two of them. Jennifer tried to disentangle herself from the sheet and stand up, painfully aware of both their lack of appropriate attire. She picked up his pants and handed them to Brian, who was slowly stirring himself. Once he saw Hazel, he quickly pulled them on and stood up, leaving the sheet for Jennifer to wrap around her waist. She made a mad dash for the bedroom, where she had left her clothes from the previous day on the foot of his bed. She stopped at the door and paused. The memory of last night replayed in her mind. She hesitated for a moment before turning the door knob and peeking inside, relieved to find the coast clear of any other worldly beings, real or imaginary. It had to be a dream. Or a delusion. Or a trick of the light. Ghosts weren’t real. It was a hallucination brought on by stress and sleep deprivation. They had just been looking at her picture and she had imagined seeing her. But at the time Jennifer was sure it had been Amber. It had to be a dream, because if it wasn’t… His dead wife had been watching them fool around on the couch. She didn’t want to think about that. And wouldn’t she be watching over her own kids? She thought of the magnets. Help Her Who was she talking to? Her? Him? Both? Why would she care about a kid who wasn’t hers? “Jenny? Is that you?” She heard a panicked voice call out. Jennifer hurried into the room and closed the door behind her. “Are you alright?” Jennifer asked. She had sounded in distress. She came around the corner and froze. She looked in distress. “Where have you been?” Hortensia whimpered. She was bent at the waist with her legs as close together as she could get them. Her hands were clenched into fists at her side. “I can’t get it off! I’ve been up for over an hour trying! I’ve been calling for you!” “Can’t get what off?” Jennifer asked, looking her up and down. “This!” Hortensia nearly yelled in a panic, motioning to her waist. She was tugging violently at the nappy, but it wouldn’t budge. “It should just tear off.” Jennifer said. This was weird. Oh, right! She had safety pinned it on. “It’s not!” Hortensia said. “I remember. There’s pins in it.” “I know! That’s what won’t come undone!” Hortensia whimpered. She bicycled her legs up and down. “I’ll get them,” Jennifer said. She knelt for a minute, but she couldn’t unpin them with Hortensia dancing from foot to foot. “Stay still.” “I can’t stay still!” Hortensia growled. “Well, why didn’t you come find me? Why did you wait until you got to this point?” “I’m not wandering around in a nappy!” Hortensia exclaimed. “My pants don’t fit over it!” Jennifer pinched the pin as hard as she could, but it wouldn’t budge. It was like it was rusted shut. She pushed and strained until her finger ached. Nothing. She pulled her hand away and waved her fingers about in pain. “Hurry! Hurry! Hurry!” Hortensia begged. “You made it through the night I see.” Jennifer offered. Hortensia moaned. Jennifer strained against the pin again, ignoring the ache in her fingers. She tried bending it, twisting it, and ripping it directly off. Nothing. She had been trying for fifteen minutes and she hadn’t made any progress. Her fingers felt raw. She could feel blisters forming. Her eyes were watering from the pain. She looked up and stared at the reflection In the mirror. She could see the reflection of a little girl sitting on the bed in a leopard onesie giggling against her closed fist. When did Hazel come in? She hadn’t heard her. Jennifer spun around and faced the bed, but there was no one there. “Di-did you see that?” Jennifer asked. She looked from the mirror, to the bed and back again. Nothing. “No, what? Was it a spider?” Hortensia was eying the floor and walls distastefully. “No, it was…my imagination. My own hair. Must have fallen in front of my eye. I thought I saw someone sitting on the bed.” Jennifer explained. Hortensia peeked her head out and searched the bedroom before shrugging and pacing around the bathroom. “What if you laid down?” Jennifer offered. “Maybe it’s the way I put them in.” Hortensia gave her a pained look. She didn’t look like she could lie still without… “Tens, you know…” Jennifer grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. “What?” Hortensia snapped. “If you really can’t hold it, you could just…” “I could just what?” Hortensia demanded. Jennifer motioned to Hortensia’s waist and gave her an apologetic grimace. She was only delaying the inevitable at this point. Hortensia gave her a horrified look as her eyes began to water. “NO!” She shouted. Jennifer raised her hands before gently lowering them. They didn’t need a fit this early in the morning. “It’s not a big deal. I’m just letting you know it’s an option. I can see you’re getting worked up over this.” “I’m not getting worked up!” Hortensia snapped. “I have to pee!” “Then pee!” Jennifer said exasperated, stepping away. “Do it! Get it over with! I don’t care!” “No!” Hortensia shouted, glaring daggers at her. Jennifer glared right back. Now wasn’t the time to be having this battle of wills, but it was too early to deal with her attitude. She could feel her frustration bubbling over. Her fingers stung and ached. She was tempted to leave Hortensia to deal with it herself, but she stopped herself. She took a deep breath and turned away, giving herself a moment to think about the situation rationally. She had a thought, but… it didn’t make much logical sense. She eyed the bed again where she had seen the figure… Brian had said she liked to cause mischief… No! The pin was stuck on something! Both of them were just stuck… “I’m sorry, let’s both calm down.”Jennifer said, gentler now. “It was only a suggestion. I will keep trying.” “Okay.” Hortensia said. “It’s just, you’re only dragging it out. Why not?” Jennifer asked. “It’s kind of what they're for.” “I don’t want to wee myself.” Hortensia said. Then she surprised Jennifer by breaking down in tears. “It's like the Chokey.” She spit out. “Standing in there all day having to wee yourself.” Jennifer stood in stunned silence. She didn’t know what to say. The only time Hortensia had ever spoken of the Chokey was if she was bragging about how many times she had been in there, like it was a badge of honor or something. She had never brought it up. Not in the therapy or during their nightly talks. It was a dumb suggestion, but she blurted it out anyway. “What if you sat down?” Jennifer said quietly and pointed to the toilet. “You can’t do that in the Chokey.” “I hate having to pee, but I hate feeling cold and wet.” Hortensia said with a sniffle. Jennifer closed her eyes and remembered her own long agonizing hours in the Chokey. The build up of pressure as you hoped and prayed it wouldn’t be much longer. The cuts and lacerations from the nails as you fight to hold it. The realization no one is coming. Resigned to your fate, you relax your sore tired muscles, fighting the urge to flinch in disgust and impale yourself. There's relief. At least you don’t have to wee anymore. But then comes the wait in your cold, damp clothing. “I don’t think it’ll be like that.” Jennifer said softly. “I don’t think it’ll be like going in your knickers.” “Matilda says it feels awful and you're miserable all day.” “That’s because Matilda insisted on pull ups. Those are meant to be uncomfortable to teach kids to use the lou. That’s more like a baby nappy.” Jennifer said, gesturing at her. “That doesn’t make me feel better!” Jennifer patted the toilet before lifting the lid so she could sit like she normally would. Hortensia looked at it skeptically with her lip curled. “If I can get you out in time, you're that much closer.” Jennifer said. “And if you decide it's not worth the effort or can’t anymore…” Hortensia groaned in a mixture of indecision and desperation. “I probably couldn’t even tell if you do or not.” Jennifer lied. “Since it’s not like wetting your pants. As soon as I get the pins unclipped, I’ll walk away. It’s be like Schrödinger's Nappy.” “What?” “You know, like Schrödinger's cat? The cat is both alive and dead? The nappy is both wet and dry.” Hortensia looked at her horrified and shook her head. God she missed Matilda. “You know, you like science fiction, right?” “Yeah…” Hortensia said suspiciously. “Well, there’s some physicists out there who believe in the idea of parallel universes.” She guided Hortensia down onto the toilet, who soon began to squirm. Jennifer tried again to get the tabs open while she talked. She focused her efforts on ripping it off. She wasn’t sure what these were made of, but they were tough! “Like an alternate timeline with differences.” “Yes!” Jennifer said, surprised. “How’d you know?” “It’s like the whole plot of the book you’ve been reading me.” Hortensia said. Huh, so she had been listening. “So try and imagine what’s going on in a different timeline. I could be trying to free you from a blow up pool flamingo floatie instead.” “Or I’m the one trying to save you.” “Could be.” “And you have to shit.” “Okay, that’s disgusting.” Jennifer said. “And stop swearing.” She looked up at her. “Do you?” “No!” If that were the case, she’d burn this thing off. But she could maybe cut it off… She opened his bathroom drawer searching for scissors. She didn’t see any, but she did find more condoms. Not that she was looking. She opened another drawer and found beard trimmers. This would have to do. “Are they hurting you?” Jennifer asked as she tried to snip away the fabric. It squished in between the blades, but wouldn’t cut. “I don’t know.” it wasn’t a no. “I think you do.” “You think there’s a parallel universe where I’m a boy?” Hortensia said changing the subject. “If you were a boy, Brian would be the one trying to pry you out of this.” Jennifer said before mumbling under her breath. “I’ve seen enough penises for one day.” Jennifer said. Hortensia gave her a disgusted look. “Whose penis did you already see? It’s not even eight!” She wasn’t supposed to have heard that. “Tens,” She sighed. “Look, I thought about it last night, and I talked it over with Brian. I decided I’m not going to send you to Cynthia’s, but-” Jennifer didn’t get a chance to get the rest out. Hortensia had thrown her arms around her. Jennifer blinked in surprise before bending down and returning the embrace. She rubbed Hortensia’s back a few times. “Whatever’s going on, I’m here for you.” Jennifer whispered. She kissed the top of her head. “But you’re still in deep S-H-I-T-E.” Hortensia groaned. “You broke my car…” “I know, this is just really gross!” Hortensia lamented. Her body had gone rigid. Jennifer stepped away and busied herself replacing the beard trimmers. “Gross gross gross.” So much for not knowing. “It’s all warm.” “The descriptions are unnecessary.” “I can feel it running down my arse!” Jennifer sighed and shook her head. “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!?” Jennifer spun. “Language!” Hortensia was holding something in her hand. The pins. Jennifer came forward, stuck a finger under the tab and tore it free with ease. Hortensia did the same with the other side. They stared at each other. “They were both sticking out unlatched when I looked down.” Hortensia said. Jennifer picked up one of the pins and stared with fascination. She pinched the pin. She had no trouble opening and closing it now. Was it her position? “I could have made it.” Hortensia groaned. She leaned her head against the wall and let out a defeated sigh. “If I had just looked down thirty seconds sooner.” “It’s not like we were planning on saving it anyway.” Jennifer offered. “Who cares if you weed in it or not?” “I care!” Hortensia groaned. “It’s embarrassing.” she mumbled. “If anyone at school found out…” She shuddered. “Then don’t tell them.” Jennifer said. She put the pins back in the drawer. “Go ahead and get cleaned up. You can take the first shower. Bag it up and throw it outside in the rubbish.” She left the bathroom and closed the door behind her. She paused by the door for a moment and frowned. She could hear quiet sobs coming from the other side a few seconds later. “That wasn’t nice.” She said to the empty room. She was going crazy. Two “episodes” in one day, and now she was talking to a ghost. She didn’t expect a response. Static began to fill the room. Her head snapped to the source. His alarm clock sitting on the nightstand began to speak. The local radio DJ began to talk of sunny skies and sweltering temperatures. The station changed. A plumbing commercial. It changed again. Faster and faster the dial turned. A lawyer offering compensation for injuries. More static. She could faintly hear music beneath the distorted angry hiss of out of range stations. Then it became clear. Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” began to play. Jennifer stared at the clock. It was a coincidence. It was all just a coincidence. She felt frozen. Her eyes flicked to the bathroom door. Maybe she should grab Hortensia and go downstairs, but she could hear the water from the shower turn on. She had had to pee for the last fifteen minutes, but it seemed tasteless to run off and relieve herself while Hortensia was suffering. Now the shower reminded her. She threw her leggings on and headed for the bedroom door, thoughts of the second bathroom dancing in her head. She pulled on the doorknob. It wouldn’t move. She stared at it. She tried again. The knob wouldn’t turn an inch. She could feel her palms dampen. More static filled the room. “Where Do You Think You’re Going?” by the Dire Straits. Jennifer’s mouth began to go dry. Her heart began to beat in rapid succession. She felt a chill go down her back. She could feel someone standing directly behind her. Goosebumps began to form along her arms. She slowly turned. There was no one there. The radio changed again. Did she just hear the DJ say this was a London station? How? The music was changed back to Cyndi Lauper’s “Girls Just Want to Have Fun.” Was she playing with them? A blur of a little girl in a cheetah onesie was sitting on the bed laughing. She appeared like an after image. Jennifer blinked. It disappeared. That…that wasn’t Hazel she had seen. Her mind went to the woman brushing Hortensia’s head. There were two ghosts! Two. Ghosts. Ghosts. Jennifer let out a dry, nervous sounding laugh. Her sanity was slipping away day by day. “Okay… you got us.” Jennifer said. “You had your fun.” She reached for the door knob again. Still it wouldn’t turn. “Are you the one who messed up the kitchen?” She heard shouts coming from the bathroom followed by the tearing of the shower curtain. “OH THAT’S COLD!” “Not her!” Jennifer shouted before turning towards the bathroom door. “Are you alright, Tens?” “The bloody hot water ran out! Ugh! This is not my morning!” Jennifer couldn’t say it was any better out here. She eyed the empty room with her back leaning protectively over the bathroom door and quietly addressed the entity. “Please, we would like to leave. I know you're having fun, but you’re scaring me and you’ve upset her. She didn’t want to pee herself. That wasn’t a very nice thing to do.” She was talking to it like it was a little kid, but that’s what she had seen. She could hear a small girl's laughter in her ear. Jennifer spun. “Are you talking to me?” Hortensia called from the bathroom. The radio chirped to life. Robert Deniro’s voice. “Are you talking to me? Are you talking to me?” followed by static. “Uh, ye-yeah, I was just asking how you were.” “Great.” Hortensia said sarcastically. “Can you hand me my clothes?” Jennifer’s eyes darted around the room until they fell on a discarded pile of clothing on the floor. If she stepped away from the door, would it make a move against her? Would Tens be safe? Did it even matter if she was there at all? It didn’t need to be bound by physics. Did it? She didn’t know anymore. Could a ghost pass right through her? She crossed the room and grabbed the clothes. Now came the moment of truth. Could she get the door open? She twisted her wrist. The knob turned. With a sigh of relief Jennifer passed the requested items through the crack in the door. “You know Tens, you’ve also seen me in compromising situations.” Jennifer said. “Like at the lake…” She could hear Hortensia let out a snort of laughter. “Your arse was, like, massive.” Hortensia chuckled. Jennifer could hear the radio begin to tune. “Oh. My. God. Becky. Look at her butt. It is so big…” A girl over the radio said. Jennifer’s jaw clenched. When Hortensia emerged from the bathroom, Jennifer was sprawled across the nightstand rear high in the air, as she reached for the plug while Queens. “Fat Bottomed Girls” played. “I would appreciate it if I didn’t hear rumors of a ‘Headmistress Baboon’ at school.” Jennifer said as she emerged from behind the nightstand.“You don’t tell anyone what happened at home and I won’t either. Deal?” “Well, that technically didn’t happen at home…” “Tens…” “Okay, okay. Don’t tell anyone about…any of this.” She motioned at her waist. “Or that you’ve seen me cry.” Hortensia mumbled. “Or about freaking out over getting a shot. Or just anything about this summer!” “No baboon jokes about my butt. You don’t know anything about my past. You DID NOT see me snogging a man in the back of his van.” Jennifer stuck her palm out. Hortensia shook it, but then grimaced in disgust. “Like a Virgin, touched for the very first time…” The radio sang, springing back to life. “Let’s go downstairs.” Jennifer said. She could feel a sudden surge of adrenaline. She grabbed her dress and shooed Hortensia down stairs. She could finish changing in the other bathroom. At least it hadn’t locked them in. … “Damn it!” Carol yelled. She threw the dusty book against her bedroom wall and let her face drop into her waiting hands. She knew Agatha had been a monster, but god damn it. The woman was mad. Mental. Off her rocker. The dustball hanging off the threaded bookmark had brought it to Carol’s attention when she had let the worker in to examine Jennifer’s vents. Once she realized what it was, she had taken it overnight in hopes of finding answers. Now she knew for sure. There was someone else out there who deserved to rot in hell. But first, it was time to tell Jennifer the truth. Agatha didn’t throw boiling water on her because she was masturbating. Agatha threw boiling water on her because she was pregnant.

Just a quick council meeting chapter where of course everything goes super smoothly! ----- 11 Baby Debut Briana’s heart freshly quailed, when she saw a forest of women and men’s suits – at least until she spotted her aunt. Kiara stood out among the crowd in every possible way, from her height, to her black skin, to the startling white dress she was wearing off the shoulder. She favored clothes that showed off her powerful shoulders. If it was for intimidation or pride, either way she was projecting a confident air that had the room captivated. Though all eyes were on Kiara, Briana’s aunt wasn’t merely basking in the attention. She caught the Little girl’s arrival as soon as she stepped into the country club’s conference room and turned to her with a big smile. “Briana!” Long strides put Kiara in hugging range within moments. Briana found herself hugged with as much enthusiasm as her aunt showed at home. “I see Emeline didn’t have to coach you on your dress, I like your choice of outfit.” “Grandma picked it for me, actually – but how did you know Emeline didn’t?” “Because your aunt knows that even if I can appreciate your skirt, I would never have chosen it,” Emeline said. “It’s perfect. I’m sure you would have had words with your grandmother if she’d picked something you hated.” Kiara grinned. “Now, come meet the politicians.” Briana had only enough time to plant a somewhat genuine smile on her face before she found herself in the thick of faked enthusiasm. Being barely five feet tall had often made people mistake Briana for a younger woman than she was, but she felt downright childish among so many officious strangers. Briana found herself dumbstruck, but luckily her aunt was already barreling ahead with an introduction. “I’d like to introduce a new addition to the Rasmussen family. This is my niece, Miss Briana Tess Rasmussen.” Kiara put as much real gravitas on Briana’s name as Briana put on pretend airs when she referred to herself as a Cloudland Princess. Maybe that’s the best way to deal with this, Princess Briana doesn’t get nervous talking in front of crowds. That the crowds in question were made up of stuffies was a factor she could ignore for a minute of pretend. Briana straightened her spine and managed a clear tone of voice. “Pleased to meet you all.” “That would make you Veronica’s daughter?” A blonde White woman with gray streaks in her hair held her hand out to Briana. “Carissa Sharatt, City Manager.” Briana shook the offered hand, which set off a wave of handshakes and individual introductions that quickly became a blur. The only other politician to stand out was the one who didn’t offer a handshake, merely holding her hand up in a tepid wave. “Lorraine Bolinger, Planning Board Chair.” She was a White woman in the most severe suit of the bunch. Her black and charcoal color scheme matched the steely expression on her face. The only flash of color on her at all was the gold cross pendant resting prominently on her gray blouse. “Now that my niece and assistant are here, shall we talk business?” Kiara motioned and the mass of people moved. Politicians clustered around the oak conference table that gleamed in dark contrast to the cream colored carpet. The room was open and airy, with a fifteen foot ceiling that boasted exposed beams of polished birch. There were several expensive looking chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, and the exterior wall was all window. Though the sun was setting, the room still offered a spectacular view of the club’s attached golf course. Briana stuck close to Kiara and sat at her aunt’s right hand as directed. The room’s opulence would have been intimidating – had she not spent a few nights at Vakhaven. It’s nice, but it’s nothing compared to the Green Dining Room at Grandma’s – at Kiara’s house. And that’s not even the fanciest room. “This is a meeting for the Planning Board, so I’m sure no one minds if I take the head of the table.” Lorraine’s aggressively pointed comment seemed out of place – no one was stopping her from taking that seat even as she spoke. A moment later, Briana realized that Lorraine had been speaking directly to Kiara. She felt a frowny wrinkle between her eyes. “Of course, Chairwoman.” Emeline set a plastic bound report in front of Lorraine before making the rounds to hand a copy to each member of the city council. “You all received Ms. Rasmussen’s proposal by email, these copies are for reference. I think we’re ready to begin unless anyone would like to question the data upon which the proposal is based.” Was that a power-move? Briana asked herself, as she hastily flipped through the report. Having Emeline respond to Lorraine instead of Kiara replying directly? The report was surprisingly short and low on actual data – at least to the eyes of someone who regularly read experiment reports and scientific journals. It seemed like a summary of a summary, only a few pages long with surprisingly large font. Unsurprisingly, Lorraine did want to contest the data. She wanted to contest everything in the meeting it seemed, twice if it came from Kiara. Though the room was filled with a babble of conversation, little substance reached Briana’s ears. In an hour of discussion, nothing had been said that elided her own summary of the issue to Emeline – that accessibility was going to cost money, and therefore people were opposed to it. “I hardly see what the proposed benefit is, Ms. Rasmussen,” Lorraine was saying. “Nothing in the report suggests an increase in commerce or beneficial taxation as a result of your proposed ordinance changes – it’s a pure spending proposal.” “The benefit is to human beings who are not being treated as hospitably by our city as they ought to be.” Kiara had a stern expression on her face. Of the councilors, only Lorraine and one of the men seemed able to confront her Aunt’s confidence directly, the rest looked down and flipped through their reports when Kiara turned her gaze on them. “Our city spends quite a bit of money on hospitality that doesn’t provide a net benefit. It’s all very well to propose that we go out of our way to accommodate people, but there’s a real cost to business owners that you’re not acknowledging.” “Community investment is a moral duty for the business community.” Kiara countered smoothly. “The Rasmussen family has always invested in Ardenthill, and we’ll continue to lead in that regard.” “She’s saying it’s a hard sell to business owners if they only lose money and don’t see an upside.” The confident male counselor spoke up. He was a White man with slicked black hair and a suit that reminded Briana of something. A billboard! I see him on a billboard every day on the way home from school. He’s a lawyer – Eric Patterson. Proud of herself for not only following the discussion – especially one deadly dull to Littles – but also recognizing someone, Briana piped up in the space left by Kiara’s frustrated silence. “As someone who has friends with physical disabilities – as well as being the shortest person in every room myself – I think this is important enough for the City to make the effort. I’m sure we can find a way to help any business that has trouble adapting to the new standards.” Heat prickled in Briana’s cheeks as the whole table turned toward her. She didn’t dare look at her Aunt to see if Kiara approved of her little speech. Admitting for a moment that she wasn’t as sure as she sounded would have her crumbling in front of all the authoritative Bigs in front of her. Since no immediate response seemed forthcoming, Briana plunged in again, though her heart was pounding anxiously enough that she felt it might drown out her words. “My interest in disability issues is why Kiara invited me to this meeting, I’d like to see this project through personally.” A surprised murmur went around the table, setting Briana’s knees knocking together. To her great relief, Kiara reached over to squeeze Briana’s arm. The contact sent a stabilizing shot of warmth through the Little girl, just in time to keep tears out of her eyes. “I see. Well, we certainly can’t disdain your enthusiasm.” Lorraine said, while her tone made it clear that she certainly could and did disdain Briana’s involvement. “At least your offer of help for business owners is a step in the right direction. As it happens, I have a candidate for a needless restriction we can remove in order to make economic room for the Rasmussen proposal.” “Interesting, please, do share.” Kiara’s voice carried an aggressive edge that had Briana’s muscles tense all over again. “For over a decade, Ardenthill has required businesses to build family restrooms that are as expensive as they are absurd.” Lorraine pulled a stack of reports out of her briefcase, handing them off to be passed down the table. “Changing tables that can hold up to three hundred pounds is the worst of these requirements, but there are plenty more. Who are we catering to, elephant mothers?” Briana took her copy of Lorraine’s report with fumbling fingers. Without extra-sturdy changing tables, her friend Arthur wouldn’t be able to be Little in public. Lorraine’s report went well beyond that, though, cutting the required bearing weight for a changing table down to a mere fifty pounds. Pixie-like though she was, Briana wouldn’t be able to use a changing table with that rating. She couldn’t imagine there were many – if any – ABDL Littles that could manage it. “This is a huge change – it basically gets rid of the special family restrooms in town completely!” Briana could feel her tone getting hysterical, and she could see the frowns developing on the council members as it did. Unfortunately, that only increased the tightness in her chest. “You’re a fast reader.” Lorraine’s condescension kept it from being a compliment. “That’s a good analysis. Not only is that kind of extravagance on bathrooms unnecessary, but it attracts the wrong sort of person.” “Lorraine.” Kiara’s voice was flat and stern in a way that made many of the council members blanch. “I’ve asked you before in meetings not to imply – or openly say – that there are wrong sorts of people. That kind of language is only a step away from hate speech.” “Oh please, you yourself helped write laws that keep people you don’t like out of the public sphere.” Lorraine scoffed. “The only people who could possibly need to put three hundred pounds on a changing table are those freakish diaper-wearing adults. Is that the kind of person you’re hoping to attract to Ardenthill, Kiara?” The tight band around Briana’s chest pulled taut, leaving the Little girl unable to draw breath. She felt dizzy and sick - her fingers hurt from gripping the conference table too tightly. Inside, she was screaming at Lorraine. Who are ABDL people hurting? They aren’t freaks! Stop being hateful to my friends! Nothing made it past the paralysis that had gripped her on the bus. No one in the room was denouncing Lorraine, Eric was even nodding along with her. She’d just called an entire class of harmless people undesirable freaks, and no one was standing up to… “I want everyone to feel welcome in Ardenthill – I don’t ask newcomers or visitors about their hobbies, culture, or secrets.” Kiara shook her head. “I didn’t realize you’d come to this meeting with such an axe to grind, Lorraine. Is this going to be a problem going forward?” “You mean, am I going to advocate for decency and wholesome values in my home city?” Lorraine shot back triumphantly. “If this is the sort of discussion we’re going to have, perhaps it’s best if we table the issue for now.” Kiara shrugged. Briana stared at her aunt aghast, unable to believe that the indomitable Kiara had given up so easily. “That might be a little bit hasty – though I have to say, Lorraine, you did get a bit heated there.” Carissa, the city manager, spoke up for the first time other than murmuring agreement along with others. Briana furrowed her brow at the woman’s sudden change of heart. “It’s more than a little heat. I’m no stranger to being told I don’t belong, and I don’t like seeing that sentiment here in Ardenthill.” Kiara leaned back in her chair, stony faced. “The Rasmussen family has enjoyed working with many city councils over the town’s history, but we know when a particular council is too difficult to work with.” Suddenly wide-eyed, Eric leaned forward and said, “I hope this doesn’t affect your view of the downtown restoration project.” Kiara made a dismissive wave. “Oh, we’re committed to that project, but we aren’t tied to a particular timeline. It may be better to avoid animosity and postpone the restoration work for a year or two.” A year or two – so after the next city council elections. From the consternation on the faces of the councilors – even Lorraine, Briana could see that Kiara had scored a big point. As glad as she was to see Kiara sticking up for ABDL people and the meeting’s original purpose, she found herself wishing it had been a point scored on principles instead of money. “I don’t know if that kind of decision needs to be made on the restoration project tonight,” Carissa’s smile was so strained it seemed liable to shatter. “Or on tonight’s issue either. Can we agree to a general resolution supporting a more hospitable Ardenthill – for visitors and businesses alike – and revisit this another time?” No one was happy with Carissa’s suggestion – Briana herself was outraged – but the council went along with a vote anyway. With the meaningless resolution voted in, the evening turned to political gossip and drinks. Briana clutched a champagne flute filled with cranberry juice and stuck like glue to Kiara’s side. ~~~*~~~ It was by virtue of her Princess of Cloudland persona that Briana managed to hold herself together until the event ended. That the tears didn’t start flowing until she was in the parking lot was something she counted as a victory. She gave herself a gold star for crying quietly too – though that was mostly due to not wanting Lorraine to see her upset. “Little one.” Kiara’s gentle voice shattered the last of Briana’s composure. She was up in her Aunt’s arms and sobbing into Kiara’s shoulder in a moment. Luckily, the parking lot was dark and Kiara had parked as far in the back as Emeline had. “That was awful.” Briana had her arms around Kiara’s neck so tightly it was almost a chokehold. “I’m so sorry, Briana. I didn’t expect your first council meeting to be one where your identity got attacked.” Kiara patted Briana’s back gently. Briana’s sobs came out in the same rhythmic pattern, making her feel even more ridiculous and Little. By the time she’d cried out the worst of her sobs and Kiara was putting her in her car seat, Briana’s diaper was soaked. She didn’t care – even welcomed the feeling as a further retreat from adulthood and the ickiness of the evening. Kiara’s best aunt status was narrowly saved by her wrapping Briana in a blanket before setting off for home. The fuzziness of the blanket was a poor substitute for Alanna, but it managed to bridge the gap until Briana could race from the car to her bedroom. Surprisingly, it was Kiara who stepped through Briana’s door moments after the Little girl threw herself on her crib and grabbed her stuffed Lioness. She’d have expected immediate comfort either of her parents, her sibling, or Tia Rosa, not her aunt. Not that Kiara wasn’t unwelcome. Now that Briana was home, however, all bets were off on where her snotty nose landed. She shamelessly pressed her face into Kiara’s white dress as the post-crying shudders ran through her. “Do you want to talk, or do you just want me to pet your hair?” Kiara asked softly. Wisely, she was already stroking Briana’s hair. “Both.” Briana sniffled. “I feel dumb for being so upset. What you said at the meeting – about being excluded – I’m sure it’s been way worse for you.” “I’m glad you’re not comparing being ABDL to my being Black – because they aren’t the same at all.” Kiara scooted a chair up to Briana’s crib and took a seat before returning to her gentle stroking. “That doesn’t mean what Lorraine said didn’t hurt, or that you shouldn’t be upset, or that excluding ABDL people isn’t wrong.” “More people have been saying stuff like that – but this time it was right at me.” Briana whimpered. “I didn’t know what to do, I just froze, again.” “I didn’t realize that sentiment had reached Ardenthill, I thought this would be the last place it’d show up.” Kiara sighed. “It’s fine to take a break from politics. I pushed you into this, thinking it’d be perfectly safe.” “I don’t want to take a break.” Briana sniffled loudly. “I can do this.” “Briana, you don’t need to put yourself in another situation like the one tonight.” Indignantly, Briana squirmed out of Kiara’s grasp and hauled herself to her full sitting height in her crib. “I’m a Princess AND a knight of Cloudland, PLUS I’m a Rasmussen. I got frostbite to save my sibling. I’m not giving up!” A joyous, loving smile blossomed on Kiara’s face. She picked Briana up and cuddle-crushed the Little girl in a hug on her lap. “It seems everyone has a nickname for you, and I think I just found mine.” “What is it?” Briana squinted up at Kiara pugnaciously. “It better be a pretty one.” “It is, but it’s strong too.” Kiara grabbed a wipe from the nearby changing table and scrubbed the snot off Briana’s nose. “Tessa – because Briana is too small a name for the big-hearted Little girl on my lap.” “Like – like Magna Grandma?” “Just like her.” Kiara kissed Briana’s forehead. “It’s a big name, you’ll have to do more than you already have to earn it.” “Do all your presents come with self improvement plans?” Briana accused. Kiara laughed, bouncing Briana on her lap. “You’ll get used to it. We both have Tess’s spirit, after all.” “I need a diaper change.” Briana pouted. “I noticed. Let’s take care of that now.” Kiara scooped Briana up onto her changing table and shimmied the Little girl’s dress off. “Won’t Mom and Grandma and people think my new nickname is – weird or something?” “I don’t think so.” Kiara popped the tapes on Briana’s diaper, wiping her down with more enthusiasm than skill, though she was getting better at changes at an impressive rate. Plus, she was as good at manhandling Briana as anyone other than Gary. Briana reveled in the Little feeling that came with helplessness and snuggled Alanna. “You’ve made quite a splash – I didn’t expect Vonnie to adopt anyone so soon, let alone somebody like you. On top of that, you broke Mom’s stubbornness down in the space of a week.” Kiara chuckled as she put a fresh diaper under Briana’s hips. “People have gone their whole careers without making Michele budge.” “It’s because I told her I loved her.” Briana squirmed with happy abandon during the application of her lotion – making sure it got everywhere it needed to go. “That was brave, and so was holding things together tonight.” Kiara sprinkled powder on Briana’s crotch, then playfully blew a puff of it at the Little girl’s face. “Ack!” Briana coughed and laughed in equal measure, wiggling away from Kiara. She got only a few inches before her aunt pulled her back and tapped her securely into her diaper. “Most of all, it was genuinely impressive to see your resolve after you’d been crying.” Kiara dropped a nightgown on Briana and helped her find the armholes. “I’m proud to have you as a niece.” “You’re proud of me?” As fun as she was for diaper changes, Kiara had a lot to learn about pep talks. Briana was right back down the emotional roller coaster, with tears blurring her vision. “You bet I am, and I know I’ll be even more proud in the future.” Kiara swept Briana and Alanna both into a hug that sent Briana’s roller coaster upward again – and forced the Little girl to admit her aunt might know what she was doing with the encouragement. “I’ll work on the disability thing – but I think someone needs to stand up for Littles. I don’t mind being brave – but – I’m Little, and I need help.” “That’s what your auntie is here for, Tessa.” Kiara bounced Briana in her arms, grinning triumphantly. “I’ve got your back.” “Even if you have to support ABDLs in public?” “Especially then.” “Okay.” Briana shuddered as a nervous, hollow space opened up in her chest. It was surrounded by fierce warmth though, unlike the iciness that had gripped her at the meeting. She leaned into the love Kiara was giving off, doing her best to multiply it back in with a super snuggly Briana hug

Chapter 39: The car ride to the doctor's office unfolded with the gentle hum of the engine, the familiarity of the route providing a sense of routine amid the occasional sniffles that punctuated the silence. The slight cold, a persistent reminder of winter's grasp, had prompted this visit. The day started with the familiar routine of Mommy getting me ready in the morning. But today we had a doctor's appointment, the reason being a slight sniffle from a lingering winter cold, that didn’t seem to go away and left Mommy worried. My attire for the day consisted of a light blue onesie adorned with playful patterns of teddy bears and building blocks. The fabric was soft against my skin, and the onesie, complete with snaps at the crotch, embraced the thick diaper around my crotch. A pair of cozy denim overalls followed, their adjustable straps securing them comfortably over my shoulders. Mommy made sure to add an extra layer—a knitted cardigan adorned with cute animal shapes—to shield me from the lingering winter chill. The ensemble was completed with a pair of white sneakers, fastened securely with velcro straps for both convenience and style. As Mommy knelt down to close the straps, I looked down at my shoes, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and nervousness. I hadn’t been to the doctor for more than a year and especially not since starting my diaper project. How were they going to react, would they think I was crazy and lock me up? "Ready for our little trip to the doctor, sweetie?" Mommy's voice carried a tone of reassurance as she took my hand, guiding me toward the door. I clutched “Mr. BunnyRabbit”, as if seeking comfort from the upcoming visit. The familiar sight of the doctor's office building loomed ahead as Mommy parked the car. My grip on Mr. BunnyRabbit tightened, a silent plea for reassurance, as the nerves bubbled within me. Despite the routine nature of the visit, a knot of anxiety twisted in my stomach. Mommy turned to me with a warm smile, recognizing the unease etched on my face. "It's just a check-up, sweetheart. Nothing to worry about," she cooed, her soothing words attempting to quell the apprehension that lingered beneath the surface. Mommy's comforting words lingered in the air as we made our way into the clinic and through the door to the lobby and waiting room. Mommy guided me with a gentle hand on my back, a gesture both reassuring and guiding. As we entered the waiting room, I clutched Mr. BunnyRabbit a bit tighter, the familiar plush toy serving as my steadfast companion amid the unfamiliar surroundings. The other occupants of the waiting room, children and parents alike, cast brief glances our way. I couldn't help but feel the weight of their curious eyes, aware that my toddler attire and stuffed rabbit marked me as an anomaly in this setting. Mommy, however, seemed unfazed by the attention. With a warm smile, she led me to a corner of the room, where a colorful play area beckoned. Stuffed animals, building blocks, and picture books adorned the space, offering a temporary escape from the clinical atmosphere. "Let's wait here, sweetheart. You can play with the toys while we wait for our turn," Mommy suggested, her tone a delicate blend of encouragement and warmth. I nodded, my apprehension gradually giving way to a childlike curiosity. Settling onto the soft rug, I engaged with the toys, losing myself momentarily in the simple joy of play. Mommy sat beside me, offering occasional words of encouragement and praise. As I played, the minutes passed in a blur, and soon enough, our turn arrived. The door creaked open, and a pediatric nurse, clad in a cheerful uniform, stepped into the waiting room. Mommy rose from her seat, and with a welcoming smile, she greeted the nurse. "Susan and Patrick?” She announced loudly scanning the room and quickly spotting us in the corner. “How are we today.” She inquired, her tone a blend of professionalism and warmth. Mommy returned the smile, though a hint of concern flickered in her eyes. "We've had a little cold, and I thought it would be best to have the doctor check him out. Other than that, he's been his usual cheerful self." The nurse's eyes flickered with surprise, as her gaze shifted from Mommy to me, still sitting on the floor. Her initial professional reaction reflecting a momentary pause However, her professional demeanor quickly shifted into a warm, reassuring smile. "Well, hello there, little one!" she greeted in a gentle, melodic tone, bending down to my eye level. "And who is this adorable little patient today?" I glanced up at Mommy, unsure of how to respond. The nurse chuckled, seemingly understanding the silent communication. "Is this Mr. Rabbit?" she asked, gesturing to my plush companion. I nodded, holding my bunny a bit closer. "Such a good bunny you have there!" she continued, reaching into her pocket and producing a colorful sticker. "How about we put this on your shirt? That way, everyone will know you've been a brave little patient today." With a mixture of hesitation and curiosity, I allowed her to affix the sticker to my overalls. As the nurse continued to engage in playful baby talk, I felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere of the room. Despite the peculiar circumstances, her approach made me feel acknowledged and, in a strange way, at ease. The nurse motioned for Mommy and me to follow, and we entered the examination room together, leaving the playful haven of the waiting area behind. The nurse led us deeper into the clinic and into a separate office, the walls adorned with vibrant murals of cartoon animals and cheerful landscapes. The room emanated a child-friendly ambiance, with a small play area and a colorful rug that beckoned young patients to explore. "Please have a seat right over here, little one," the nurse directed, pointing to a chair that stood beside a examination table in the middle of the room. I complied, the plush Mr. BunnyRabbit securely tucked under my arm. Mommy took a seat nearby, her reassuring smile offering silent support. The nurse proceeded to weigh and measure me, making notes on a clipboard while keeping up a stream of friendly chatter. "Look at you, growing up so well!" she exclaimed, as she recorded the measurements. "Now, let's check those ears and listen to that heartbeat of yours, shall we?" As the examination continued, I found myself caught between the novelty of the surroundings and the familiarity of routine health checks. The nurse's skilled hands moved with precision, making the experience feel strangely routine. After the physical examination, the nurse turned her attention to Mommy. "Is there anything specific you'd like to discuss with Dr. Stevens today?" Mommy glanced at me before responding, "Well, he's had a bit of a cold, and since Patrick is a bit of a special case, I just wanted to make sure that everything is okay with him.” The nurse nodded, understanding the unique situation. "Dr. Stevens will be in shortly to discuss all of that with you. In the meantime, feel free to make yourself comfortable. We're here to ensure both of you have the best care possible." With that, the nurse exited the room, leaving Mommy and me surrounded by the whimsical decor of the pediatrician's office, waiting for the doctor to arrive. Shortly after the nurse left, the door opened again, and Dr. Stevens entered the room. A warm smile graced his face as he greeted us. Dr. Stevens was a middle-aged man with a warm and approachable demeanor. He had a kind face, framed by a salt-and-pepper beard that complemented his neatly groomed hair. His eyes, behind a pair of thin-rimmed glasses, held a combination of professional attentiveness and genuine care. Dressed in a crisp white coat, he exuded an air of competence and confidence "Hello there! How are we doing today?" he asked, directing his attention first toward Mommy and then turning to me. His eyes flickered with a mix of curiosity and professionalism as he took in the sight of a grown man dressed in toddler attire. Mommy spoke up, "We're here for Patrick's checkup, and he's had a little cold recently. As discussed there’s also some unique aspects to his situation that I wanted to discuss with you." Dr. Stevens nodded, his expression maintaining a level of understanding. "Of course, I'm here to address any concerns you might have. Patrick, would you like to come up on the examination table so we can take a closer look?" Feeling a bit hesitant I climbed onto the examination table, Mr. BunnyRabbit in tow. Dr. Stevens went through the usual procedures, checking my ears, listening to my heartbeat, and asking about any symptoms I might have been experiencing. Dr. Stevens, maintaining his professional demeanor, turned to Mommy. "To get a thorough examination, it would be best if we undress Patrick down to just his…..Uhm, diaper. Is that alright with you?" Mommy nodded, a reassuring smile on her face. "Of course, Doctor Stevens. Patrick, sweetheart, let's get you undressed for the doctor, okay?" Feeling a bit self-conscious, I cooperated as Mommy began to remove my toddler-themed clothing. Mommy folded my clothes neatly and set them aside, leaving me in just my, at this point soggy diaper. Dr. Stevens proceeded with the examination, checking my skin, muscle tone, and range of motion. Throughout the process, he engaged Mommy in conversation, maintaining a friendly rapport to ease any discomfort. As Dr. Stevens continued the examination, he carefully observed various aspects of my physical condition. With a thoughtful expression, he gently commented, "Susan, I've noticed that Patrick has a lower muscle mass than expected for his age. However, his body fat percentage seems to be on the higher side, reminiscent of what we often see in toddlers with their characteristic baby pudge." Mommy listened attentively, concern flickering across her face. Dr. Stevens continued, "It's not exactly common for children…” He stopped midsentence taking a harsh look at me before continuing “Uhm, young men his age to exhibit this degree of pudginess. However, considering Patrick's unique circumstances, we might want to discuss a tailored approach to encourage muscle development. Can you provide some insights into Patrick's diet and daily activities?" Mommy responded, "Certainly, Doctor. Patrick has been following a balanced diet with a mix of baby food, soft snacks, and bottle feedings. We engage in activities like playtime, and outdoor experiences. He's been napping regularly and overall seems to be in good spirits." Dr. Stevens furrowed his brow slightly, expressing concern. "I do have some reservations about Patrick's current diet and the observed loss of muscle mass accompanied by an increase in what I would need to call baby pudge. Also while it's not unusual for toddlers or even infants to require daily naps, I'm a bit concerned about Patrick's need for these and his overall low level of energy. It's essential to monitor his nutritional intake closely, ensuring he receives the necessary nutrients for proper muscle growth and overall energy maintenance." Mommy's expression shifted to a mix of understanding and concern. "Doctor, we'll certainly take your advice seriously. We want what's best for Patrick, and we'll make the necessary adjustments to his diet.” Mommy expressed her concern, "Dr. Stevens, Patrick's digestion has been more manageable with the current diet. Changing it abruptly might make things unpleasant for him, especially when it comes to using his diaper." Dr. Stevens nodded, understanding the practical challenges. "I appreciate your perspective, Susan. We don't want to disrupt his routine too much. However, we can explore other options to enhance his nutrition without causing discomfort." He continued, "I'd recommend incorporating a protein powder into Patrick's diet. This can help address concerns about muscle mass and provide essential nutrients. It can be mixed into various foods, making it a convenient solution." Mommy considered the suggestion, "That sounds like a reasonable compromise. We want what's best for Patrick, and if this helps maintain his comfort while improving his nutrition, we'll give it a try." Dr. Stevens agreed, "Great. I'll provide you with information on suitable protein powders and guide you on incorporating them into his meals. It's essential to strike a balance that ensures his overall well-being." Dr. Stevens continued his observations, "I couldn't help but notice some wear and tear on Patrick's knees. Is he taking to crawling instead of walking?" Mommy smiled and replied, "Well, Doctor, he seems to prefer crawling around at home. It's become a sort of preference for him, and we've let him explore what makes him comfortable in our safe environment." Dr. Stevens continued the conversation, expressing a bit of concern, "While it's understandable that Patrick may find comfort in crawling, it's crucial to note that adults aren't built for prolonged crawling like babies. The bone structure and joints in adults are different, and continuing this behavior might lead to long-term issues and potential damage." The doctor added, "If Patrick consistently refuses to walk, we should explore alternative options that ensure both his comfort and long-term health. Perhaps physical therapy or activities that encourage walking in a more engaging manner." Mommy nodded thoughtfully, acknowledging the importance of considering alternatives. "We'll certainly explore other options to encourage his mobility. Thank you for your guidance, Dr. Stevens." Dr. Stevens shifted his attention toward me, offering a compassionate smile. "Patrick, I understand that you've put a lot of time and effort into this unique journey. It's commendable, and I appreciate the complexities involved. My concern is primarily about your overall health, and I want to work with you and your mommy to find a balanced approach that considers your well-being." Despite Dr. Stevens' understanding and reassurances, I found it challenging to maintain focus during the adult conversation. My mind seemed to drift, and the gravity of the discussion weighed on me. The doctor's words about my health and potential long-term consequences echoed in my head. Deep down, a part of me understood Dr. Stevens' worries about the toll crawling might take on my adult body. The wear and tear on my knees, the potential for long-term damage of my baby-like diet. Dr. Stevens leaned forward, attempting to engage me in an adult conversation about my health. "Patrick," the doctor began, "it's important to consider alternative options for your mobility and also for your diet. I understand the important of the project and of the article you want to write and we just want to ensure your long-term well-being. My mind struggled to maintain focus. I shifted uncomfortably, my eyes wandering around the room, fixating on the colorful illustrations adorning the pediatrician's office. I fidgeted on the examination table, the gravity of the conversation clearly lost to me at that moment. Dr. Stevens continued, trying to emphasize the potential consequences of my chosen lifestyle, but my attention waned. "Sweetie," Mommy interjected, using her gentle baby talk, "Try to listen carefully to the nice doctor, he just wants you to be a healthy boy, okay?” I nodded absentmindedly, my gaze fixated on a vibrant picture of cartoon animals on the wall. The doctor's attempts to maintain an adult discourse became increasingly futile as I slipped further into toddler thoughts. "I know it's hard to understand, Patrick, but we need to find a compromise," Dr. Stevens persisted, but my mind was already wandering to the stuffed animals in the corner of the room. "Look, a teddy bear!" I pointed, momentarily captivated by the distraction. The doctor sighed, recognizing the challenge of reasoning with a mind divided between adulthood and toddlerhood. "Susan," the doctor began, turning his attention back to Mommy, "we also need to consider the impact on Patrick's mental well-being. Living the life of a toddler could have long-term consequences on his adult mind." Mommy, ever attentive to my needs, listened carefully to the doctor's words. "I understand, Doctor, but we've found a way to make Patrick happy. He's been more carefree and less stressed since we embraced this lifestyle. We're doing our best to balance both his needs," Mommy explained, her voice a soothing melody of reassurance. Dr. Stevens nodded, recognizing the delicate balance we were attempting to maintain. As Mommy and the doctor discussed dietary changes and the introduction of protein powder, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of resistance. The doctor's recommendations clashed with my toddler preferences, the comfort of warm bottles and the familiarity of pureed baby food. The thought of changing that routine, even for health reasons, left me apprehensive. I tried to articulate my thoughts, a mixture of adult reasoning and toddler resistance. "Me like bottles," I mumbled, attempting to convey my attachment to the comforting warmth of my baby bottles. Gave me a quick glance, before continuing. "Susan, I understand the effort you and Patrick have put into this unique project. However, I must express my concerns, not just about the physical aspect but also the potential impact on Patrick's mental well-being." Mommy nodded her head in agreement, while turning to face me. "I appreciate your concern, Doctor. We’ll be monitoring Patrick closely, and as you can see, he seems content with the arrangement.” Doctor Stevens sighed, seemingly having come a decision, perhaps understanding the delicate balance we were striving for. "Very well. I'll sign off on allowing you to continue the project. Just keep a close eye on him, both physically and mentally.” Mommy turned her attention back to me, her hand grabbing my onesie as she got ready to redress me. "Oh, sweetheart, it looks like you need a diaper change," she remarked with a mix of concern and tenderness. “You can change him here, before leaving.” Doctor Stevens remarked, while finishing his paperwork. "Well, little guy, it seems you've got a unique adventure going on, huh? Your Mommy and I just want what's best for you. Boop! There's your nose! You really do seem to cope well with your toddler life, aren't you?" I tried to respond with a mix of adult and toddler thoughts, but the doctor continued engaging in babytalk and playful interactions, making it challenging to maintain a coherent conversation. My responses became more toddler-like as Dr. Stevens played along, creating a surreal moment of this professional doctor treating me an infant. "Okay, little guy, I'll leave you to your mommy for the diaper change. Take care, both of you." As Dr. Stevens exited the room, Mommy turned her attention to me, her tone shifting to a gentle and reassuring babytalk. "Oh, sweetie, did the doctor check you all out? Mommy's here to make you comfy and clean. Let's get that diaper changed, okay?" As Mommy expertly got busy changing my diaper, the nurse from earlier returned to the room, casting an amused eye on the scene unfolding. She couldn't help but coo and offer words of encouragement, turning the already awkward situation into a moment of shared amusement for her. The nurse, with a friendly smile, remarked, "He's quite the cutie, isn't he? A handsome little guy if it weren't for the, um, current circumstances." Mommy chuckled nervously, "Oh, yes. He has his moments, but, you know, life as a toddler comes with its challenges. The exchange continued, with the nurse playfully affirming Mommy's caregiving skills, all while I squirmed in discomfort, my face burning with embarrassment. This doctor's visit had taken an unexpected turn, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable in more ways than one. The nurse nodded understandingly, "Absolutely. But look at those eyes! And imagine when he's not, well, occupied wetting his diaper and sucking his thumb. He might turn out to be quite the little heartbreaker." Mommy joined in the laughter, "Well, we appreciate the optimism. Diapers and all, he's still our special boy." As they shared a light moment, I couldn't help but blush, the embarrassment of being the center of such a conversation intensifying my discomfort. Mommy, in a playful tone, said to the nurse, "Speaking of thumb sucking, would you mind passing me one of those pacifiers from his diaperbag? It tends to make diaper changes smoother." The nurse smiled and handed over a pacifier, commenting, "Ah, the magic pacifier. It's amazing how it can turn a fussy moment into a peaceful one." Mommy nodded, popping the pacifier into my mouth as she continued the diaper change. "Absolutely. It's become a little ritual for us." The nurse chuckled, "Well, whatever works, right? He's a lucky little guy to have such caring parents" As I sucked on the pacifier, a mix of embarrassment and comfort washed over me. It was strange to be at the center of such a conversation, yet the pacifier did offer a soothing distraction, turning the diaper change into a somewhat bearable experience. The nurse, with a gentle coo, continued, "There we go, little one. All clean and dry." She babytalked me a bit more, praising my good behavior during the diaper change, and then excused herself, leaving Mommy to finish changing my diaper. As I lay there, pacifier in my mouth, I couldn't help but reflect on the surreal nature of these moments. The nurse's babytalk, the comforting routine of a diaper change – it all underscored the reality of my regressed state. Mommy continued with the task at hand, seemingly unperturbed by the recent conversation. Leaving the doctor's clinic, the nurse, spotting us on our way out, couldn't resist one last round of babytalk. "Bye-bye, little sweetheart. Take care!" she cooed, adding an unexpected level of sweetness to an otherwise perplexing day. Mommy chuckled, playing along with a grateful smile, and we stepped out into the crisp air, leaving behind the clinical atmosphere of the doctor's office. The echoes of babytalk lingered in my ears as we ventured back into the world beyond the clinic doors.

Yes, this past August when I took a trip for a week I went 24/7. I chose very absorbent diapers for sleeping, Beyond XP5000. Over them I wore heavy large plastic pants for added protection and I also slept on large disposable bedpads just in case. Not a drop made it out of my diaper, let alone onto the bed. I am making a suggestion that next time you don't wait until your vacation starts to ask advice. Plan a few weeks ahead of time to ask advice. I also suggest you do some testing at home overnight. Plan on which diaper you want to take on your trip for overnight and wear it at home for several nights. Do at home exactly as you plan to at the hotel. If you wake up at home with wet areas on your bed, then your diaper is not good enough. Try either better diapers, booster pad in the diaper, plastic pants and a disposable bed pad. Keep trying until you hit the combination that works everytime. Lastly, this has come up in other threads. People talk about telling the hotel they wet the bed, asking for a plastic sheet, all kinds of things. Partly I think they get their jollies by letting hotel staff know they wear diapers. The thing is, it is a hotel but you should still treat their property as your own. Don't go with the attitude, "It's a hotel and not my bed. If I wet it, so what?" WRONG ATTITUDE! You take steps to make sure you don't get their bedding wet, even if it may mean extra steps like plastic pants and a bed pad that you might not use at your own home. There is never a need to tell hotel staff you need a plastic sheet on your mattress or that you wear diapers. The idea is making sure you are responsible and do enough testing at home before your trip to ensure you know what it will take to keep their bedding from getting wet in the first place. Respect their property.

I am supportive of this operation for folks who have committed to the lifestyle, 24/7, for many years because they know what they're getting into. People who fly down south of the border on a whim are going to end up regretting it because they might not know what they're getting into and are thinking with their libido instead of their brain. Make sure you, um, clean the pipes before going under sedation, just to make sure this is something you actually want. If you haven't accidentally leaked in public yet, you should not be having this operation. Full stop.

Uh oh, looks like Briana finally has to go do political stuff. It's rough being an oligarch baby! ----- 10 Reluctant Anticipation Up to her waist in hot water and soap bubbles, Briana sat back to admire the forest of suction-cup jungle animals she’d managed to stick to the tile wall. Her tongue protruded from between her teeth as she lifted Alanna – her stuffed Lioness and Knight Captain of the Kingdom of Cloudland, of which Briana was a princess – and carefully suspended her in the tangle. She let go and gasped as the suction cups held. “See Grandma? See? If they can hold Alanna they could totally hold crayons!” “Alanna looks nervous to me.” Grandma expertly scrubbed the inside of Briana’s ears with a soapy washcloth, totally unhindered by the Little girl’s squirms. “She’s not nervous, Alanna is a knight and they’re brave!” Briana’s attempt to slide down to the waterline to escape the washcloth seemed quite clever until Grandma caught her foot and pulled. Before she knew what was happening, Briana was dunked under the water, had her hair rinsed out, and was back up and sputtering. “Bravery isn’t about not being scared.” Grandma deftly wiped soap off Briana’s face. “It’s about facing fears – especially realistic ones like being put in a food dehydrator.” “That was only one time!” Briana looked up at Alanna, who’s stitched-on expression seemed less than impressed. “Anyway, it worked.” “Worked so well you cried for a whole evening about locking your friend up.” Grandma held up three fingers. “There are three reasons why you can’t play with the crayons that Gary got you for your birthday while you bathe.” Briana folded her arms across her soapy chest and stared skeptically at Grandma. Michelle cleared her throat and said, “First off, they are very nice crayons, made from beeswax, which you’d be sad if you ruined. The second is that we don’t have any surfaces that can be colored on with crayon and survive bath water.” “Yes we do! You can color on parchment paper.” “Finally,” Grandma said relentlessly, “Your bath is over anyway.” Briana had her mouth open to retort when Grandma turned on the shower, raining terribly cold water down on the Little girl. She shrieked at the top of her lungs, launching herself upward with a mighty splash. Suction cup animals were strewn everywhere in the confusion. Like she’d choreographed it, Grandma rose to her feet, caught Alanna, and held up a fluffy towel. Lip trembling, Briana stared aghast at her grandma. As the shock wore off, she realized she wasn’t standing under freezing water, but merely warm water that had been a sharp contrast to the near-scalding tub. All was forgiven when she stepped out of the tub into a freshly warmed towel. Grandma wrapped Briana up and dried the Little girl from head to toe, before wrapping her in a second warm towel. There really is no getting spoiled like getting spoiled by Grandma. “Good girl, getting out of the tub so fast,” Grandma said, as if she’d given Briana any choice. “Let’s get you on the potty now.” “Huh? How come?” Briana sat anyway – accepting the casual authority Michelle wielded as she always ended up doing when her Grandma babysat her. “You should try to use the potty tonight, even if Kiara is prepared to change you.” Grandma brushed most of the wet out of Briana’s hair while they waited to see if she needed to go. “This is to get you in the mindset.” “Oh right, the charity thing.” Briana managed a small tinkle in the toilet, beaming when Grandma rewarded her with a pat on the cheek. “I know you didn’t forget – and that you didn’t forget any of the times you dodged Emeline on campus.” “I’m sorry!” Briana didn’t sound convincingly sorry, even to herself. To cover, she rushed into her next statement. “It’s just hard to connect with this stuff when I don’t know much about it.” “It’s work dear, just like you do at school.” Grandma stood Briana up, wiped her, and lead her down the hall to her bedroom changing table. “Community and political work will often be tedious or uncomfortable, but it’s of great benefit to the people you’re helping.” Unsure of how she should reply to what was starting to sound like a lecture, Briana was saved the trouble by the pacifier Grandma pressed to her lips. She closed her eyes and relaxed onto the fluffy diaper Michelle scooted under her hips, letting Grandma’s soothing voice and gentle hands take away the last of the end of bath shock. “I’m proud of you for picking a research project designed to clean up the planet – you could have chosen any number of things other than plastic-eating bacteria. By the same token, I’m sure you’ll stop making Emeline’s job awkward and enthusiastically help your aunt.” Briana winced when Grandma lifted her legs – only to receive baby powder on her rear instead of a swat. She popped her pacifier out in surprise and stared up at Grandma. “I thought you were going to spank me. That sounded like a pre-spanking lecture.” “There’s no need to spank you because I know you won’t disappoint me on something this important.” Grandma patted the powder onto Briana’s skin matter-of-factly, her expression never wavering from it’s caring calm. On the whole, Briana would have preferred a spanking. When Grandma had volunteered to give Briana her bath, the Little girl hadn’t expected to be speared by guilt. Pinned to her changing table like a butterfly in a display case by possible disappointment, Briana had to admire her Grandma’s experience in handling kids. To her delight, she got a color-matched diaper for the dress her Grandma put her in. The diaper was a pretty pastel yellow, a nice compliment to the dress’s yellow top – even if no one at the event was supposed to know she was diapered. The boldly colored rainbow embroidered on the dress’s top, along with the tulle rainbow skirt was proof that Grandma paid attention to her. It’d been one of many fancy dresses Briana had gotten from Michelle for her birthday, and she loved them all. Love overflowed from Briana’s heart – she threw herself into a big hug with her Grandma which was returned with the same bottomless affection Michelle always hugged with. “Thanks for the bath, and the dress – and even the talk.” Grandma laughed. “You’re a good girl Briana. Go play with your sibling. You’ve a while yet before Emeline arrives.” ~~~*~~~ Melody, to Briana’s great exasperation, didn’t want to play. They were “busy” with “a personal project” and no amount of sarcastic air quotes from their Little sister could get them to put down their laptop. At least they were in the living room, instead of at their desk in their room. Along with Melody’s Middle-ish outfit of a dinosaur t-shirt and bright blue shorts, Briana felt the situation ought to be negotiable. Appeals to the local authority were Briana’s next tactic, but they weren’t working out the way she wanted either. “But Daddy, Grandma told me to play with Melody.” Briana smiled endearingly at Jane, hoping that her dad’s outfit of a button up blouse and nice slacks wasn’t indicative of an uptight mood – but rather just her father’s anti-casual personality. “I’m sure that was more of a suggestion than a command, and non-binding on Melody in any case.” Jane scooped Briana up into her lap, which Briana tolerated because it let her burrow into her Dad’s warm arms. “I’m just debugging,” Melody said, without taking their eyes off the screen. “We can hang out, I just can’t play until later.” “But later I’m going to be out with Kiara!” “Oh yeah, you two are raising money to stall the orphan crushing machine, right?” “The what?!” “It’s an internet meme about how Americans throw money at systemic injustices that should get fixed.” “Well – I’m literally an orphan, or I was, so can you not do that meme, please sib? It icked me.” Briana’s plaintive tone was successful in getting Melody to look up sheepishly. “Sorry sis. I wasn’t thinking.” “It’s okay.” Briana nuzzled Jane’s cheek. “Daddy, will you play with me?” “Of course. We can engage in a good German game, such as Würstchenschnappen.” “Daddy, you’re gross. I don’t think you ever ate sausages off a clothesline as a little girl.” Jane laughed. “You’ll have to ask my parents to be sure.” “When are they coming?” Briana bounced on Jane’s lap. “I want to meet all my grandparents." “Unlike the Rasmussens, the Müllers cannot fly to another continent on a whim. However, they should be here after the high traveling season ends, in September.” “Really? They picked a date?” Briana’s bounces hit a high point – whereupon she shifted to clinging to her dad. “Are they – are they going to be okay with me?” “They are going to love you as much as anyone else in the family does.” Jane gave Briana a squeeze. “The visit is some months away, don’t spin yourself up with anxiety.” “That’s a Mom phrase, you’re staring to sound like your fiancé.” Briana hopped restlessly off Jane’s lap and skipped around the room. “I suppose so.” Jane smiled fondly – she had the best dreamy happy expressions whenever Briana mentioned the wedding. Naturally, that meant she talked about it as much as the rest of the family would put up with. “Mom said you and Grandma and Kiara were talking about the guest list, did you decide how many people are going to be…” “OH – EM – GEE.” Melody beaned Briana with an expertly tossed stuffie. “You need to get off the wedding topic, sis, that was our whole afternoon.” Briana caught the stuffed giraffe on the bounce. “How dare you treat Chuck so cavalierly?" “Isn’t he a knight of Cloudland? He should be used to it.” Melody had a terribly smug smirk on their face. “What does being a knight have to do with…” “I think your sibling is referring to the French chevalier,” Dad said, rolling her eyes. “OH – EM – GEE, sib!” Briana held her stern expression until Melody burst into giggles and she couldn’t help laughing herself. The doorbell rang, prompting Briana to cast a surprised look at the clock. “It’s time to go already? But we didn’t even play!” “Then why did we have such a good time?” Jane patted Briana fondly on her rear. “Go answer the door, mein Tochter.” Briana skipped over to the door and flung it open, reveling in the surprised look on Emeline’s face – though it lasted only a moment before she was back to her trademark professionalism. She had on one of her innumerable pinstriped suit-dresses, the model of the day being a slightly lighter blue than the last one Briana had seen Emeline in. Sure, Mom wore variations on the same dress, but at least her style was goth instead of corporate. Remembering Grandma’s epic guilt attack, Briana put on a bright smile that was only a tiny bit false. “Hi Emeline. Come in!” “If you’re ready, we should head out right away, but thank you for the invitation.” Emeline waved from the door. “Hello Ms. Müller, Melody.” “Emeline.” Dad reverted to German stoicism in the face of Emeline’s formality, spoiling any good that would come from dragging the French woman inside in an effort to make her unwind. “Yup, I’m ready, take me to Airforce One!” “Oh non, we’re meeting with the President next week, remember?” Emeline’s deadpan delivery got a smile out of Jane and a giggling-snort out of Melody. Anyone who could manage that couldn’t be all bad. Briana felt her spirits rise enough for her to bounce a circle around Emeline. “Then let’s go. I haven’t seen Aunt Kiara in ages.” “It would be unwise to say that to Ms. Rasmussen, considering the reason you haven’t.” Emeline chuckled, taking Briana’s hand firmly. She looked up at Jane and said, “Kiara will be bringing her home after the country club event is over.” “Thank you Emeline,” Jane said. “You’re welcome to join us then as well – but please don’t feel pressure to attend if you’d rather not.” Emeline nodded before leading Briana to her car. At Veronica’s insistence, both Kiara and Emeline had outfitted their vehicles with a Briana-sized car seat. While Emeline strapped her in, Briana kicked her feet and wondered what the country club people would say if they saw her in a car seat. Such concerns hadn’t been part of Briana’s life for a while, but they were creeping back in with disturbing regularity. I wonder how much of my nervousness about Kiara’s events is about being Little in public? As Emeline pulled out of the driveway, Briana was struck with the guilty realization that she’d put a lot of pressure on Ava to come to her birthday as a Little. It was a bit of a struggle to reach her sequined purse, strapped in as she was, but Briana managed to snag her phone and send an apology text anyway. “Emeline, what’s the event about tonight?” “Changing the city ordinances to require businesses and public buildings to provide better access to people with physical disabilities.” “Isn’t that already a law?” “It is, but Kiara’s proposal would set a higher standard than the law currently requires, because it’s not always enough.” Briana chewed on her lip, remembering that Ava had been basically shut out of the cool upper floor of Vakhaven because of the steep stairways. Is that why Kiara’s doing this – and is she doing anything to make our house better for people like Ava? If people really were having trouble despite the law in place, it seemed like a common sense thing to fix – hardly worth a meeting. Melody’s horrible orphan machine comment floated to Briana’s mind in counterpoint. “But the business people don’t want to do it because it’ll cost them money, right?” “Oui.” Emeline nodded. “Also the politicians don’t want to have to raise taxes during an election season.” Briana frowned, searching her memory. “But – the city council is elected every two years, right? They’re always doing election stuff.” “Exactement.” “Right, so what do I do?” Briana sat up seriously – or as seriously as she could with her car seat straps holding her shoulders. “I’m glad to see enthusiasm.” Emeline smiled. “You could offer to track the issue for those who’s political campaigns your family contributes to. They know that Kiara is too busy to closely follow such a minor issue. It’s much more likely that they will keep their promises if they know there is an interested Rasmussen who doesn’t have any other causes.” “That means a lot more meetings – some of them on my own, doesn’t it?” “It would, yes.” With a sigh, Briana considered her options. It was true that while family restroom access was very good across town – Ardenthill as a whole didn’t have good disability access. The campus buildings were top notch, but the downtown core was downright inaccessible. Briana had heard from more than one person that the town’s landlords like to declare a building “historic” to get out of making improvements. With Ava’s expression of forcibly patient frustration in her mind’s eye, Briana bravely lifted her chin. “Okay, I’ll do it! You’ll have to help me with the words.” “Naturalment.” Emeline smiled. “Let us keep this a secret from Ms. Rasmussen. It will be more fun if she is surprised by your enthusiasm in the moment.” “I didn’t realize she liked surprises so much.” “She doesn’t hate them – but I meant it would be more fun for us, not Kiara.” Briana giggled. “Emeline, you’re naughty!” “Ms. Rasmussen encourages self-expression among her staff.” Emeline pulled the car into the country club parking lot, choosing a spot near the back of the lot. “That’s true of all of them. It’s confusing when you call Aunt Kiara Ms. Rasmussen.” “They are very similar women when it comes to their business affairs, true.” Emeline helped Briana out of the car. “As are you, Miss Rasmussen.” “You think so?” Briana clasped her hands nervously in front of her, wishing she had Alanna along to buoy her confidence. “Oui.” Emeline gently untangled Briana’s hands and clasped one of them. “Now, let us go surprise your aunt.” If Briana gripped Emeline’s hand extra hard on the way into the club, the French woman didn’t say anything about it. She was torn between regretting her Little dress and being glad that she’d worn it. As long as no one laughed at her, debuting in Little attire would keep her from having to dress up at all the rest of the meetings. They wouldn’t laugh at a Rasmussen – would they

Chapter 9: ---------- Cyn started stepping her game bit by bit at that point. We had the freedom and the time to experiment and that is exactly what she did. She didn't put me back in diapers the next day, instead she had me back in my prom panties. She used the cuffs to tie me to the foot of the bed, face down and ass up. She pulled out a vibrator and got to work on my clitoris. This was only the first real orgasmic action we had since prom, so it took a while before she managed to get me going. She never took off my panties, she just kept stimulating me through them, eventually turning them into a clingy wet mess. As she massaged my clitoris with the vibrator, she gently caressed the insides of my thighs until I could stand the sensation anymore and erupted in orgasm. Despite not having done anything myself, I lay panting into the bedsheets. Cynthia, however, didn't have an ounce of mercy. Pushing aside my wet panties, she simply slid the still buzzing vibrator into me, pulled the panties back over it, and went to make breakfast. She didn't even say anything, she just left the room, leaving me in a situation that was more like torture than stimulation. She did come to check up on me quite often, but she left me there until noon without giving me a moment of respite. By the time she came to stroke my hair, my face was already stained with tears and drool and I was aching for either release or another orgasm. Just a vibrator really doesn't get you off. "How are you holding up?" She asked after a few moments, wiping my cheeks. I had no idea how to respond, if I even could. Like always I wanted to please her, but saying I was fine was what she really wanted and while I'm pretty sure I wanted out, my whole world was overwhelmed by the vibrator. So I said nothing. That must've worried Cynthia a bit, because she started with detaching the cuffs on my wrists, and then untied the ones on my ankles from the bed. I was too stiff and sore to actually move and sit up, and I still had a vibrator buzzing away at my sex. She turned it off and took it out. The feeling did not disappear. Everything still felt like it was vibrating, though it did so in a completely different way. The sudden change in feeling brought new tears to my eyes. Cynthia guided me to lie on my side at first, gently stroking my cheek and making gentle cooing sounds. Once the buzzing feeling started subsiding, I began to come back to my senses as well. "Hey there," she said when I finally looked up at her. I think I said a hoarse 'hi' back, but I'm not sure. Either way, after a while she asked "too intense?" At first I just nodded, but I kind of felt the need to talk about it. It just seemed important to, I didn't want her to held back too much. Yes, that experience had been very intense and yet I still wanted to be hers, to be bent in ways that, though they were uncomfortable for me, brought her joy. "A little, maybe." That was as far as I managed to get with saying how I felt. I was too drained to really talk. Cyn seemed to have figured that out too, since after waiting a second or two for me to continue she went "let's go eat." She helped me up off the bed, slowly. Even taking our time, the moment I got up my bladder refused to hold and just let go. I peed right through my soaked panties. With all the sweating I'd been doing all morning, there wasn't a lot of it however, and the puddle that formed at the side of the bed was barely bigger than my foot. "That's ok, Ensie sweetie, I'll clean that up." There wasn't a second of hesitation before her reply. She simply took it in stride. She tore the undersheet off her bed and simply mopped up the mess with that. "Let's eat first," she said once the wet spot was soaked up. She did pull my panties off me and threw them on the sheet first. Food was waiting for us downstairs. Cyn had foreseen that I would be weak so she'd purposely made something that didn't require a lot of chewing, though I can't remember exactly what she had made. I ate slowly but a lot. By the time I was done, I wasn't just exhausted, I was groggy as well and practically falling asleep on the table. "Hey, you should take a rest," Cyn said, gently rubbing my shoulder. She helped me to the living room, where she plopped me down on the sofa. With a jolt, she woke me back up, holding a diaper and a shirt, and a blanket thrown over her shoulder. "I just wanted to let you sleep, but given what happened upstairs you need a little protection, ok?" I'm not sure I even gave her an ok anymore. In fact, that next thing I remember is her waking me up by shaking me. "... parents. Wake up, dammit, your parents are here and your diapered butt is showing." It took me just a few seconds longer to register was was going on. Cyn had no time to pay attention, she was just trying to get me in pants the whole time. Later she told me that she did consider a skirt but she thought it was too likely to still accidentally show off my underwear. We managed to get me dressed before my parents even touched the door. That was good. The biggest surprise, however, was that Cynthia had prepared a whole new cooked meal for the four of us. And the kitchen even looked cleaner than before. Afterward, alone on the couch, I said: "You let me sleep." I was kind of surprised, because I had expected that at the very least she wanted my attention the rest of the day. "I'll always take good care of my Ensie," she answered while gently stroking my hair. Taking good care of me didn't prevent her from sitting on my face the next day. When she rang the doorbell that morning, she was wearing only a loose shirt and a short skirt. Not too tiny, really, it covered everything very nicely and it reached over halfway to her knees. It even widened a little. She lifted the skirt for half a second to show me that she wasn't wearing anything underneath. Unlike previous visits, she did not immediately get on with it. She started the day by re-establishing the rules. "Now that we see each other practically every day, we'll say that you only need to ask permission to use the bathroom when we're actually together. Otherwise you can just go." That was a worrying change to me. I'd gotten very used to having to text her to ask or beg for bathroom privileges and I kind of liked it, because it meant I got a lot of attention. No longer having to do that seemed like Cynthia was tiring of me. That soon turned out to be far from the truth. After laying out the new rules, Cyn took my hand and led me into my own living room. It was always nice when she took charge, because it made my fears melt away. All I had to do was follow. She closed all the curtains in the living room, turned on the tv and put on a movie. It was a romantic movie and not a particularly good one. Once that movie was done, she put on another one. I spent the whole morning snuggled up to her, my head resting on the side of her chest, Cyn caressing my side the whole time. I don't remember exactly when, but somewhere during the second movie, Cyn couldn't hold it in anymore, sat on my lap and started kissing me furiously. By the time the movie was done I was topless and my hands were all over Cynthia's soft butt. "I think the movie stopped," she said, suddenly disconnecting our mouths. She was biting her lip and still playing with one of my nipples. "We really should eat." My head was spinning and for once I protested. "I'll just eat you," I suggested. Well, "suggested". It was more of a desperate desire to keep going. Food was just not on my mind right then. Cyn didn't say anything, she just pushed me flat on the couch and climbed on top of my face. At first it was suffocating and quite impossible for me to stimulate her, but with some effort on both our parts and a little help from the armrest we managed to find a position that covered my face in Cynthia's vulva and still gave me enough room to bring her to orgasm. That didn't happen all at once, of course. This was only the second time I was on the giving end of oral sex for Cynthia and I needed some time to get into it again. Aside from that, it's actually quite a lot harder when you're lying on your back and your girlfriend's sex is smothering your face. Luckily, it's also a lot kinkier and thus more exciting, which makes up for the extra time needed. By the time I made her orgasm, my face was wet and sticky and I'm pretty sure she peed a little on me. Even so, she kissed me afterward. And then she forbade me from washing my face until just before my parents came home. She spent the whole evening smiling on the couch next to me, giggling every time our eyes met.

Chapter 38: Winter had settled in, casting a snowy blanket over our world. The landscape transformed into a winter wonderland, and with it came a series of playful days in the snow. Bundled up in cozy winter attire, Mommy, Jack, Aunty Karen, Uncle Rob, and I would venture outdoors to enjoy the frosty delights. Our backyards became a canvas for snow angels, snowball fights, and the construction of whimsical snowmen adorned with scarves and hats. Each day brought a new adventure. Mommy would guide me through the snowy terrain, my chubby mittened hands reaching out to catch snowflakes, giggles escaping from beneath the layers of warm clothing. Jack, now a happy toddler, joined in the fun, his laughter harmonizing with the crunch of snow beneath our boots. Aunty Karen and Uncle Rob, ever the enthusiastic participants, orchestrated snowball battles that left us all breathless and rosy-cheeked. The wintry landscape echoed with the joyful sounds of a family reveling in the magic of the season. Despite the layers of clothing and the extra bulk of my diaper, the cold air invigorated my spirit. The snow became a canvas for our shared moments. As the days unfolded, I embraced the simplicity of winter pleasures —fussy clothes, cozy blankets, my warm crib, and the enchanting hush that blanketed the world in snowfall. As the winter days unfolded, the flurry of outdoor activities left me pleasantly exhausted. The crisp air, the laughter, and the excitement of the snowy adventures took their toll, and I found myself yearning for moments of repose. The routine of daily naps became a welcomed interlude in my day. Mommy, recognizing the need for rest amid the winter festivities, would guide me to the cozy nursery, where the soft glow of the mobile and the gentle hum of the rocking chair created a tranquil atmosphere. Each nap became a brief retreat from the winter wonderland outside. Mommy would lovingly prepare me for sleep, the familiar routine of a diaper change, the soft whispers of lullabies, and the comforting embrace of the crib providing a haven of warmth. As I nestled into the soft blankets, nursing my baba, the weight of the day's activities lifted, and the hushed melody of the mobile lulled me into a peaceful slumber. The snow-covered landscape outside transformed into a dreamscape of serenity. The regularity of these naps became a natural rhythm in the winter days. The tranquility of the nursery, coupled with the comforting routine, offered a soothing balm to the weariness that settled in. One crisp winter morning, our family gathered at the local park, the snow-covered landscape an invitation for a day of collective joy. I found myself adorned in a toddler one-piece snowsuit, a colorful ensemble that enveloped me in warmth and whimsy. The suit boasted shades of blue, adorned with playful snowflakes and cheerful cartoon characters. A fluffy hood framed my face, and mittens dangled from elasticized sleeves. As I waddled around in my puffy winter attire, the world outside the nursery transformed into a snowy playground. The park echoed with laughter as we engaged in a multitude of snowy activities. Aunty Karen dragging Jack around on his bright green sled, as he observed the scene with wide-eyed curiosity, his bundled form a miniature version of my own wintry attire. Uncle Rob led the charge in constructing a snow fort, his energetic efforts punctuated by cheerful banter and the occasional snowball exchange. Mommy guided me through the snowy expanse, my chubby mittened hands attempting to shape lopsided snowballs that elicited laughter from the family. The park resonated with the joy of family bonding amid the winter wonderland. Despite the extra bulk of my snowsuit, I reveled in the shared moments. As I waddled around in my snowsuit, my attention was drawn to a group of cool teenagers carving through the snow on their snowboards. Dressed in stylish winter jackets, they exuded an air of effortless coolness, their movements swift and seemingly unrestricted. A part of me couldn't help but contrast their freedom and the sleekness of their winter attire with my own bundled-up form. I watched, a curious spectator, as they executed daring tricks and maneuvers, their winter jackets contrasting sharply with my whimsical, character-adorned snowsuit. The cool teenagers, with their trendy winter jackets and seemingly boundless energy, stood as a stark juxtaposition to my cozy, yet undoubtedly juvenile, winter attire. My attention momentarily shifted from the snowboarding teenagers to a more pressing matter. A warmth spread within my snowsuit, and a familiar sensation reminded me of the less glamorous but undeniable realities of my current state. I had popped my nappy, and the mushy warmth now hugged me from the inside. While the teenagers reveled in their carefree snowboarding antics, I stood in my snowsuit, feeling the consequences of my regressed lifestyle. The juxtaposition between their effortless coolness and my toddler-like predicament became more pronounced with each squishy movement. I took a tentative step in the snowy landscape, but the ground beneath my snow-booted feet proved more treacherous than anticipated. The slippery snow betrayed my balance, and with an unceremonious slip, I found myself landing on my diapered bum. The impact sent a jolt through my snowsuit, and the mushy contents within splattered all over my bum, between my legs and up the front of my diaper. As the cold snow cradled my descent, I couldn't help but wail, the unexpected mishap triggering a shock-like reaction. The mushy warmth mess that now covered the whole inside of my diaper, created a discomforting sensation. My cries echoed through the wintry air, a stark contrast to the laughter of the families around me. The wailing must have caught the attention of the snowboarding teenagers, as they glided over to me with concern etched on their faces. Their snowboards now served as makeshift crutches as they approached, ready to offer assistance to what they believed was a fellow snow enthusiast in distress. However, as they got closer and took in the scene, the concern on their faces shifted to a mixture of confusion and realization. The puffy snowsuit, the unmistakable aroma lingering in the air, and the wailing adult-sized baby in their midst created a tableau that defied explanation. The teenagers exchanged puzzled glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events. I, on the other hand, continued my lamentations, oblivious to the awkward situation unfolding around me. The contrast between their cool teenage composure and my unabashed toddler-like distress created a surreal moment in the winter wonderland. After a moment of awkward silence, one of the teenagers managed to stammer, "Uh, are you okay?" Their initial concern had now evolved into a mixture of bemusement and confusion. As I continued wailing, the teenagers, their initial concern replaced by a mix of amusement and slight disgust, shared a glance that communicated their collective decision to keep a safe distance from the peculiar spectacle. They recoiled, the realization of my messy state and adult-sized presence in a toddler snowsuit creating a momentary awkwardness. One of them muttered a quick, "Uh, never mind," while the others offered awkward half-smiles. Their amusement was evident, but the unexpected encounter had left them with a sense of discomfort that defied explanation. The mixture of curiosity, disgust, and bemusement lingered in the air as they made a hasty retreat, eager to distance themselves from the peculiar scene. As they resumed their snowboarding, laughter erupted among them, and occasional glances back at the wailing figure in the snowsuit punctuated their shared amusement. The winter wonderland became a backdrop to their whispered exchanges and shared chuckle. Amidst the echoes of laughter and the fading footfalls of the teenagers, Mommy, sensing something amiss, hurried over to where I sat in the snow. Her expression shifted from a casual smile to one of concern as she took in the messy spectacle before her. "Oh, my goodness! What happened here, sweetheart?" Mommy exclaimed, her eyes widening with a mix of surprise and worry. She knelt down beside me, brushing away a few snowflakes from my snowsuit and trying to assess the extent of the mess. Still caught in the throes of my toddler-like wails, I couldn't articulate a coherent response. Instead, I pointed in the direction the teenagers had gone, as if the retreating figures held the key to explaining my predicament. Mommy's gaze followed my pointing finger, and she furrowed her brows in confusion. "Did they do something to you, baby?" she asked, her protective instincts kicking in. Unable to verbalize the absurdity of the encounter, I continued my distressed wailing, hoping that the combination of my messy state and tearful expression would convey the essence of the peculiar situation. Sitting in the snow, still in the aftermath of the messy encounter, my cries continued, blending with the crisp winter air. Mommy, understanding the need for a different approach, reached into her pocket producing a pacifier, its bright colors contrasting against the snowy backdrop. "Shhh, there, there, sweetheart," Mommy cooed, offering the pacifier with a comforting smile. She gently guided the silicone nipple to my lips, encouraging me to suckle and find solace in the familiar embrace of the soothing device. Despite my tear-streaked face and the remnants of a messy nose, I instinctively accepted the pacifier, allowing the rhythmic sucking to gradually replace the distressed wails. The cool air mixed with my shaky breaths, creating tiny clouds of condensation around the pacifier as I sought refuge in its calming presence. Mommy, still on her knees beside me, continued to wipe away the traces of tears, drool, and winter-chilled snot. Her touch, though gentle, carried a reassurance that transcended the peculiar circumstances. The family, now gathered around us, watched the transition from cries to pacified sucking with a mixture of concern and amusement. Aunty Karen, unable to suppress a smile, commented, "Well, that seems to have worked like a charm." Uncle Rob chuckled, adding, "Never a dull moment with you Patty." Uncle Rob, ever the pragmatic and supportive figure, gently scooped me up in his arms. Cradled against his chest, as I wrapped my legs around his waist and continued to suck on the pacifier, my tear-stained face peeking over his shoulder. Uncle Rob, with a knowing smile, remarked, "Looks like we've got a little adventurer here in need of a change." He shifted his gaze toward Aunty Karen, who was dragging Jack on his sled, blissfully unaware of the unfolding events. Aunty Karen, ever observant, noted with a playful grin, "Jack still seems to be holding up well in the diaper department. Can't say the same for our little snow explorer here." The day's wintry escapade had left its mark on me, and as Uncle Rob gently placed me into the awaiting car seat still cradling the pacifier in my mouth. Mommy, with a tender smile, began the familiar routine of securing the harness around me. The thick winter clothes and the messy diaper beneath added a layer of bulk, making the task slightly more intricate. As she adjusted the straps, Mommy couldn't help but notice the telltale signs of my recent misadventure—the unmistakable bulge and dampness in my diaper. "There we go, little snow explorer," Mommy said affectionately, her hands working with maternal precision to ensure my safety and comfort. The familiar crinkling sound of the diaper beneath me provided a reminder that, despite the snowy adventures, the realities of regression lingered in the form of a well-used diaper. The car seat, snugly fastened, became my mobile throne once again. Mommy, seemingly unfazed by the messiness, leaned down to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. "Time for a cozy ride home, my sweet little one. We'll get you all cleaned up when we're back." With that, the car door closed, and the winter landscape outside turned into a blur as we began our journey back home. The familiar hum of the engine and the rhythmic motion of the car provided a calming backdrop, contrasting with the eventful day that had unfolded in the snowy park. The pacifier still nestled in my mouth, I gazed out at the passing scenery. The gentle sway of the car and the rhythmic hum of the engine worked together like a lullaby, creating a soothing melody that gradually lulled me into a drowsy state. The pacifier still between my lips, I felt a wave of exhaustion wash over me, a combination of the day's excitement and the warmth inside the car. As the car continued its journey through the snowy landscape, I succumbed to the drowsiness that enveloped me. The winter sun had dipped below the horizon, casting the world outside into shades of serene darkness. In the cocoon of my car seat, I surrendered to the inevitable pull of sleep. Unbeknownst to me, the weariness of the day took its toll, and as I drifted into slumber, the familiar sensation of wetness spread within my diaper. The snowsuit that once shielded me from the cold now cradled a freshly wet diaper as a tiny stream of drool escaping from the corner of my mouth. The car's gentle motion seemed to synchronize with the rhythm of my breaths as I entered the realm of dreams.

First of all, all the best for 2024 and thanks for reading that story. without further ado, time for chapter 3. Chapter 3: Whispers in the Machina The Machina Facultas called to me, its existence a symbol of engineering excellence—a sanctuary of innovation where minds like mine aspired to shape the future. Approaching it, I experienced the awakening of a long-cherished dream, a vision of contributing to this towering world. With each step I took toward it, I felt the stirrings of a dream that had long been nurtured within the confines of my imagination, one where I could leave my mark upon this grand world that towered over me. The structure loomed ahead, a monolith of glass and steel reaching skyward as if to grasp the very essence of innovation from the heavens themselves. My fingers grazed the sleek surface of the entrance door, and as it whooshed open, a wave of awe washed over me. Inside, wonders awaited at every turn. Engines that defied gravity floated in suspended animation, and machines that could weave fabric from light itself blinked rhythmically in a hypnotic dance. Here, there were no demerits, no looming threat of adoption—only pure potential. My eyes settled on an exhibit featuring a magdrive from one of the legendary skyboats. The magdrive’s intricate design was both elegant and formidable; its sleek lines spoke of power contained with precision. My mind raced with possibilities as I imagined crafting something worthy to stand among these marvels. "Wouldn't it be something?" I whispered to myself, my voice nearly lost amid the hums and whirs that filled the hall. My fingers twitched with an urge to dismantle and rebuild—to understand each cog and circuit that allowed these masterpieces to redefine reality. My Magnus opus... what form would it take? A machine that could bridge dimensions? Or perhaps one that could elevate Littles beyond their assigned fate? I envisioned myself unveiling a creation so groundbreaking that even Bigs would look upon it—and me—with respect rather than condescension. The dream took hold with such ferocity that for a moment, I forgot my surroundings; I was an engineer first and foremost, not just a Little in a world ruled by giants. Around me, visitors moved like shadows as they admired the exhibits. Their faces reflected the same wonder that sparked within me—a shared reverence for human ingenuity. My heart swelled with determination. One day, they would come here to see what Bixente Echavoyen had wrought—a marvel not just for Amazonia but for all dimensions. The Machina Facultas would house my legacy. And as I exited those hallowed halls with sketches and ideas burning bright in my mind, I clung to that vision with unwavering resolve. * * * I paced through the campus, my mind still whirring from the technological marvels I'd witnessed at the Machina Facultas. Each invention seemed to whisper a promise of endless possibilities, stirring a sense of pride within me. For a fleeting moment, I felt like I belonged to this grand, alien world. As I meandered toward the park, lost in dreams of crafting my own mechanical masterpiece, a sudden clenching in my gut yanked me back to a less inspiring reality. My face flushed with heat as the familiar dread of urgency gnawed at my insides. "Fuck! Not now," I muttered under my breath, each step more frantic than the last. Memories of embarrassing moments from my past clawed their way into my thoughts, taunting me. I had thought those days were behind me, but here I was, in a foreign land that already insisted on treating me like a child, and my body seemed determined to betray me at the worst possible time. I scanned the surroundings for any sign of a restroom. The landscape was picturesque, with lush greenery and benches inviting contemplation, but none of that mattered now. My stride turned into a half-run, half-waddle as I clutched at my abdomen, willing myself to hold on just a little longer. The serene beauty of the campus lake came into view—its tranquil waters mocking my desperation. Couples lounged on its banks, and students laughed nearby. My heart raced; the threat of humiliation hovered over me like a dark cloud. "I need to find a bathroom," I whispered fiercely to myself. With every step, the panic swelled, turning each breath ragged and sharp. The fear of what might happen if I didn't make it gnawed at my resolve, but I pushed forward. I bolted, my legs pumping as I made a beeline for the restroom earmarked for Littles. Every second counted, every footfall heavy with dread. I reached the door, my hands already fumbling for the handle before I even arrived. I shoved hard, but it was like slamming into a wall—the door wouldn't give. Locked. A strangled "Why?!" escaped my lips, barely louder than a breath. My body was on fire with betrayal, a twisted cramp tightening its grip as if to mock me. My eyes stung, whether from sweat or something else, I couldn't tell. I scanned the area, frantic for any other sign of sanctuary. The place teemed with people—Bigs and Mids alike—each step they took seemed leisurely and purposeful. None of them had the slightest clue about the tempest brewing inside me. I wiped my forehead, smearing away the beads of sweat that had gathered there like uninvited guests. My mind raced as fast as my heart, which thudded against my ribcage like it wanted out. There had to be another bathroom nearby—one that wasn't under some absurd lock and key regime. Panic clawed at my throat, and I felt small and vulnerable—a feeling I despised with every fiber of my being. I thought of Eric and how he'd snicker if he could see me now; it spurred me on. I couldn't let this world see me as anything less than capable. Not now. I turned on my heel, setting off again, each step laced with desperation. "Keep it together," I muttered to myself. "Just gotta find another place." My voice was a whisper lost in the cacophony of university life unfolding around me, blissfully unaware of my plight. I could feel it—the inevitable. My gut gave up, and I felt the unmistakable sensation of my poop running, invading my underwear before dripping on the ground. The humiliation was overwhelming, and I wanted to sink into the earth and disappear. My face burned with shame as I clutched at my abdomen, trying to stem the flow. But it was too late; the damage had been done. Panic set in as I realized that everyone around me would surely notice what was happening. The laughter of students nearby seemed to mock me, and I felt small and exposed in this alien world where I was already treated like a child. I tried to walk faster, hoping that if I could just get away from everyone, maybe they wouldn't see what was happening. But it was no use; the smell was already starting to waft through the air, a pungent reminder of my predicament. My heart raced as I scanned the area for any sign of sanctuary—a secluded corner or an empty building where I could hide until this nightmare passed. But there was nothing—just people everywhere, going about their business as if nothing were wrong. * * * I felt a sudden tug on my sleeve, and I turned to see two towering girls smirking at me. Their laughter was cruel, and I could feel the eyes of everyone around us on me. "Look who needs a diaper !" one of them sneered, her voice dripping with sarcasm. I blushed furiously, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew I should have gone to the bathroom when I had the chance, but now it was too late. The smell was unmistakable, and it seemed to be drawing even more attention to me. "You're such a little baby," the other girl said, her voice mocking. "Maybe you should just put on a diaper and be done with it mr Poopypants." They both laughed again, and I felt my face burn even hotter. I tried to back away, but they grabbed my arms tightly, holding me in place. "Unless you want the dean to hear about this," one of them said menacingly, "you'd better do as we say." The threat was clear - if I didn't comply, they would report me for soiling myself and getting spanked by the dean. And worse yet, they would demand that I be demoted and adopted by them as their personal little boy. The thought made me shudder with fear. My knees felt like they might buckle under the weight of their taunts. Just as I braced myself for another wave of humiliation, a voice sliced through the cacophony of jeers. "Leave him alone." He materialized from the throng of students like a sudden shadow, tall and lean, with eyes sharp enough to cut through steel. Aiden Ricoh, I'd later learn his name. His smile was a blade—sharp and deceptive. He stood there, exuding an air of authority that seemed to momentarily stagger the Bigs. The girls' laughter sputtered into silence, their smirks faltering. "And who are you? His knight in shining armor?" one of them mocked, her voice oozing disdain. Aiden's grin didn't waver. "No armor here. Just a guy who doesn't enjoy watching two people pick on someone half their size." They sized him up, eyes narrowing. I could see the gears turning in their heads as they decided whether he was worth the challenge. But something about Aiden's stance—confident, almost defiant—made them pause. "We don't need this," the other girl said, tossing her hair over her shoulder. "But watch your back, little boy," she sneered at me. "You can't hide behind someone forever." Her words slithered into my ears, leaving a trail of cold dread down my spine. The threat was clear; my reprieve was temporary. As they sauntered away, Aiden turned to me with a look that wasn't quite a smile nor a frown—it was calculating. "You alright?" I nodded, trying to regain some semblance of composure despite feeling anything but alright. "Thanks," I mumbled, my voice barely above a whisper. "Don't mention it," he replied casually. "But be careful who you trust around here." His eyes scanned the area as if expecting trouble at every corner. I swallowed hard, trying to dispel the unease his words stirred within me. "I don't even know you," I pointed out, more to remind myself that he was a stranger than anything else. "You will," Aiden said cryptically.

The mega max airlock are a good choice as well I don't hear as much crinkle like I would with crinklz

Part 21 As Paige pulled out a few more of my bras from her bag, it wasn’t difficult to pick up on the trend. Apparently she hadn’t chosen my favorite bra on purpose; she just had good odds due to the fact that she was focusing her attention on my nicest undergarments first. One by one, she held up my bras for both me and her friends to see. First maroon, then sky blue, then black. All of them were lace, and all of them were more expensive than the rest of my underwear. Each of them, on top of being chosen for the perfect fit, worked exceedingly well with my red hair and my fair skin. I had exactly four ‘special occasion’ bras, not that they were limited to specific dates or events. It’s more that I tended to reserve them for when I was dressed up and/or would potentially be seen in the bedroom later. And to save my favorite, I was about to lose my second, third, and fourth on that list. Not to mention how it was also like losing almost $175, if I remembered correctly. All because I had taken an unfair bet to get out of an unfair and beyond frustrating situation. “What a shame,” Paige taunted. After showing off each of her selections, she opted to start with the maroon bra. “It’s so pretty. Maybe you can wear bras like this when you’re older, Miley. But you’re still developing, so you really shouldn’t jump to something like this. Training bras suit you much better, I think.” “Mm hmm,” Violet agreed. She gave my arm a small squeeze with her own, reminding me that we were linked and I wasn’t going anywhere. “No big girl bras for you, little ballerina.” Even though I knew what was coming, it still felt somewhat unreal as Paige dangled the first of my bras in front of her by the band. “Ready?” she smirked. Milking the moment for everyone, especially for me, she slowly brought the scissors up and opened the blades between the two lace cups. “Are you Alyssa, or Miley?” Would it save my bra if I answered the way she wanted? I doubted it, but I had to try. They were still insisting on the mistaken identity I was caught up in, despite Noelle currently being upstairs. This was just Paige’s way of continuing to have her fun with all this. On the off chance that she would show me a little mercy, I went with it. “I’m Miley,” I begrudgingly muttered. “That’s what I thought.” Without any more ado, Paige snipped the bit of fabric holding the front of my bra together. My breath caught in my throat as I watched the cups separate; the lower one flopped down as the expensive garment was cut in half. Paige wasn’t done there, however. She made short work of cutting the straps off the bra cups as well, then tossed the destroyed pieces onto the end table next to her. Not wasting any time, she picked up the light blue bra next and held it up in a similarly teasing manner. This time around, she didn’t bother with more demeaning comments or leading questions. Instead, she merely got on with ruining the second nice bra of mine. When I tensed up at the audacity of what my step-sister was doing, I also knew that I was totally helpless to stop her. Not just because I was stuck in the armchair with Violet, but also because I had technically asked for this. First I made the bet without realizing the technicalities I had overlooked, and then I had straight up said out loud that Paige should cut three instead of one. It was way too late to backpedal at this point. “It’s okay, Miley,” Violet said, speaking at a normal volume for everyone to hear, “This is for your own good. You’ve been pretending to be this stuck-up, mature girl for so long. But we all knew you were just a little troublemaker.” “Oh, my God!” Annika gasped, “Miley. Did you just call me a bitch?!” Wait, what? I didn’t even say anything! “What? No, I-” “Language, little sis!” Paige scowled, “I’m going to have to tell Noelle about that.” “No!” I exclaimed. My eyes slightly widened at the prospect, knowing full well that Miley’s babysitter would have no qualms about yanking my shorts down and giving me another brutal spanking. She probably wouldn’t storm down here and do it in front of an audience; Paige was my sister, so she was probably an exception in terms of being allowed to witness the earlier discipline where I was borderline bottomless in front of her. But even if Noelle dragged me upstairs and spanked me away from the others, I wasn’t sure I could handle another round of that. My ass was still a little sore from the first time. And also, I DIDN’T SWEAR. “I didn’t say anything,” I said, managing to keep my voice more controlled than my thoughts. They were just proving how easy it would be to lie as a group. It was five of them vs. one of me, and Miley was a known problem child. “I heard it,” Shannon said. “Me, too,” Dakota nodded. “How about this, Miley?” Paige’s lips were pursed in an amused little smile as she pulled out another bra from her bag. A plain white one this time, although it was still one of my better non-lace ones. Being a girl herself, she seemed to have a good idea of my tier list. “We won’t tell your babysitter . . . but only if you cut up three of your bras yourself. The first one doesn’t count, of course. I did all the work for that one.” I opened my mouth to protest, but Annika was ready for it. “It’s going to be four bras if you’re not gracious about her generous offer, dear. How about something like, ‘Anything you say, my gorgeous and amazing older sister, Paige?’ How’s that?” Paige rolled her eyes. “A bit much, honestly. I’d be fine with ‘Anything you say, Paige.’ How about it, Miley?” Well, at least she was reigning in Annika’s over the top suggestion. But I also wasn’t about to offer up something like that to the very same sister who ended up pushing me deeper into this mess instead of helping me sort it out. Although it’s not like saying it would mean anything, it was also something I wouldn’t be caught dead saying to her under normal circumstances. Except, of course, that this was very much not a normal situation. “And if I do?” I reluctantly asked. Stupid. So stupid. The last ‘deal’ I made with my sister was why my bras were currently on the chopping block. In the back of my mind, I knew that playing more of her games was a terrible idea, but I couldn’t get the memory of Paige flashing my ID at me out of my head. That was probably the closest object around that could prove who I really was, unless she happened to have more of my possessions down here. Not out of the realm of possibility, considering my bras had been stashed so close. “Hmm . . . ” Paige mused. Although I didn’t know her very well, I could still tell that this time she was actually thinking. She had come up with the wager from before in a matter of seconds, and the fact that the contents of my underwear drawer were conveniently within reach was telling enough in terms of how she clearly didn’t improvise that idea. Annika’s false claim about my swearing seemed to be something they hadn’t all prepared together, but my sister was quick to run with it. “If you do,” she began, briefly pausing for suspense, “Then I’ll offer you a trade for your license.” Typical. It wasn’t that she would give me my license; instead, I had to earn an offer she presumably wouldn’t tell me until I suffered through the first step. “Fine. Anything you say, Paige,” I agreed right away and repeated the annoying words. Best to rip off the bandaid, and also say it before any of them could start a recording. “Well, that was anticlimactic,” Annika sighed. “Whatever. A deal’s a deal,” Paige shrugged, “But first, Miley, you have some bras to cut.” “Wait, but-” “Ah, ah, ah. One deal at a time, sis. How do you expect me to follow through on my end until I see that you’re a girl of your word, first?” Unbelievable. I had already made begrudging peace with the fact that my best and most expensive bras were going to be ruined beyond repair, although twisting things so I would be doing the cutting was definitely worse than watching Paige do it herself. What excuse would I possibly have when it was all said and done? Since we were eighteen, it already felt immature to get our parents involved with this, although I was absolutely willing to call them or Miley’s parents if it meant Noelle understanding the huge mistake she had made. But this? It’s not like I could tattle on my sister for destroying my undergarments if most of it happened by my own hand. Without waiting for me to affirm anything, Paige handed the stack of bras to Shannon, who passed it down the line. Dakota, to Violet, to me. The scissors followed shortly afterwards, and Violet giggled in my ear as she held out the blades. “No rushing, Miley. We want to watch.” “That’s right. No rushing,” Paige said, “And since you said you’ll do anything I say . . . ” Yep. That’s why I didn’t want to give her that kind of ammo. Although it’s not like it made a difference. I had followed her and her friends down here to get my ID, and already jumped through numerous demeaning hoops. Straying from how I was being strung along at this point would only complicate things. Now that I could somewhat see the goal, albeit with one last unknown obstacle in the way, I had to commit. After all, Paige would have cut up the bras anyway. And, although they were now in my hands, I wasn’t any closer to being free from the seat I was sharing with Violet. “Whatever,” I muttered. Paige and I both used that teenage word here and there, although I kind of regretted using it in this context. Even though everyone present knew my actual age, I still didn’t love the idea of portraying myself as the younger teen that Noelle thought I was. My appearance was bad enough; I really needed to avoid repeating ‘fine’ or ‘whatever’ too many times now that I had said both so recently. “Go on, then,” Paige said, “You can even choose the order!” No doubt predictably, I pulled the white bra from the small pile. Maybe Miley’s parents would call Noelle to check in, and the tall brunette would come racing down to apologize for all of this once she was informed that her real charge didn’t have a sister. Wishful thinking, perhaps, but I would prefer to delay cutting up my nicer bras on the off chance that it might happen before I got through all of them. But I had to start somewhere. So, I reluctantly lifted the scissors to the fabric . . . ------------------------ Check out my website: www.ladyluciastories.com And read more of "The Babysitter" (40+ parts) and other stories on my Patreon: www.patreon.com/user?u=73056590

Chapter 6: ---------- One eternity later I stood in Cynthia's bedroom, once again letting myself be undressed. We had arranged everything so I could sleep over at her place, the excuse being convenience. My clothes would be there after the dance and it was slightly closer to school. Or well, former school, we officially graduated that afternoon. I stepped into the panties Cyn held out for me. She made sure they were a snug perfect fit, teasing my sex. The panties, not Cynthia, she was still determined to keep off until I gave her the go. I wore an unobtrusive sports bra that hopefully wouldn't peek out from under the dress or could be seen through it. Maybe I shouldn't have bothered, I didn't have much that needed support anyway. My actual dress seemed more massive than it had on tuesday. I was probably just nervous though. Cynthia made sure that everything was perfectly in its place, at the same time admiring me in my dress. The necklace, which was really more of a collar, came last. When I was finally ready, she kissed me and jingled my bell. Then it was Cynthia's turn to get into her own dress. I helped her where I could and where I needed to, but some things she had to do herself. Like her boots. She took as much care they were a good fit as she had with me. My own shoes were a little more fairytale than hers. Little fine shoes that were excellent for dancing. But not for walking, as I discovered when we walked to school for the last time. The front side of the school was lifeless and dark, completely dead and abandoned at this time of the evening. However, as soon as we rounded the corner, a breeze of activity washed over us. Cars were driving up and dropping off students, flashlights waved others to parking spots, muffled sounds escaped the students' hall, where the dance was held. Aside from the arriving former students, there was little to be seen outside. A red carpet was rolled out and there were two torches set up at either side, but that was it. Kind of underwhelming for the last time we were going to be there. The inside was better, but that was because it was a pretty hall all by itself to begin with. And then, of course, the gasps started and went through the crowd like a wave. Outside we hadn't gotten much attention, just two girls arriving together. Nothing special. In the hall though, I was holding Cynthia's arm pretty tight, latching on to her for protection. I was so bloody scared I couldn't even remember how I had gotten in. "Hey. Ensie, sweetie," Cynthia quietly said to me, "don't worry, you're here with me. Anyone will have to go through me first, ok?" I nodded, trying to swallow my nerves, but my heart kept pounding in my throat. Whispers broke out amongst the crowd, louder than they had any right to be. Many people wanted to come over, but few dared. I seemed to have completely forgotten how intimidating Cynthia was to others. The first encounter was Cynthia's twosome of sycophants. "Amber, Samantha, good to see you. Have I ever introduced you to my girlfriend, Ensleigh?" Cold and to the point. Cynthia already knew exactly what they were going to say. The only reason Cynthia had ever tolerated them was pretty much for the same reason she liked me: they followed her. Now that she had me, however, she didn't seem to have any tolerance for these two any more. "Absolute genius, Cynthia, torturing the poor girl into coming to the dance with you. People will be talking about this for years." One of the two said that, but to this day I have no idea which was which. They were probably entirely interchangeable anyway. Cynthia merely smiled, "no, darlings, she is mine and I am hers." From the corner of my eye I spotted Rebecca. When I fully looked at her, she looked forlorn and defeated. I felt guilty. That was the moment I realized I should have told her earlier, that I shouldn't have let it be a surprise. I hadn't even considered it. Of course not, with telling our parents and dresses, I had been far too focused on how I was going to get through it, that I had forgotten that I had people in my life who would care about such things. "We should go talk to Rebecca," I said to Cynthia, completely disregarding her two former minions. "Sorry, my girlfriend commands and I obey," Cynthia said with a giggle as we started toward Rebecca. She made me uncling from her arm, instead resting my hand in hers. She also made sure I walked next to her, rather than behind. "Hey." That was really all I could muster to Rebecca. "How could you not tell me?" She asked, paling. "I'm sorry," she added, "I should be happy for you, but how could you not tell me?" "I should have," I said while squeezing Cynthia's hand. "It's just... It's all kinds of new to me too." A rather poor excuse, even though it was the truth. "I'm sorry. I fucked up and I owe you one." That seemed the right thing to say, though I wasn't sure if that could do anything to lessen the betrayal. "Just, go have fun, ok? We'll talk tomorrow or something." Well, what else could I do but do what she told me? She didn't have a commanding aura like Cynthia, but I had told her I owed her. Cyn once told me she had to drag me away anyway at that point, but that's not how I remember it. Pretty big chance I don't remember any of that right, of course. So yeah, after those two major encounters, the evening seemed to start off on a sour note, but Cynthia didn't let herself be deterred. She dragged me onto the dancefloor and gestured at the band to play something slow. Technically they were still setting up, but the guitarist nodded anyway, and suddenly tuning was no longer an issue. When the music started up, Cynthia gently took my hand, wrapped the other around my waist and then we were dancing. Former teachers stared in disapproval. Well, some of them anyway, but it was hard to care about that on the dancefloor. The beat picked up a little and so did Cynthia's pace. And then suddenly everyone was looking at us. The dance had barely started and here was the newly discovered lesbian couple already owning the dancefloor, being more romantic with this one simple thing than most of the guys had even considered being possible. I closed my eyes and simply enjoyed the rhythm and Cynthia's warm breath on my face. We moved through steps and joy and warmth and exhilaration, all the wonderful things that come just from dancing with someone truly special. After a while Cynthia said: "I love you like this," but then she quickly corrected, "no, I just love you." And then she kissed me, in the middle of the dance, in the middle of the hall, and while I suddenly stood still the room was still spinning around me. I blushed, but I didn't care. The evening passed wonderfully. The music became more modern and harder to dance to, and while that was unfortunate, I had already had the chance to dance like a princess with my now girlfriend. We did get another chance when the night was starting to draw to a close, but we were no longer alone on the dancefloor for that. The whole evening was exciting, even if some of the excitement was just standing on the balcony and hugging. But really, hugging Cynthia meant I could practically bury my face in her bosom, and she held me as if to protect me from all our fellow graduates. I was hers and hers alone, and I loved that feeling. I loved her. I kissed her neck a few times that evening and nibbled her earlobe. Of course she knew what that meant, so when the dance drew to a close around midnight -teachers apparently need sleep, who knew?- she said to me: "so princess Ensie, sweetie, are you sure you're ready for what's next?" That might've sounded entirely innocent to someone who passed us by, merely a reference to what we were going to do after high school. But no, like I mentioned before, she wanted to do this thing right, so she made sure I was actually up for hot steamy sex with her. And of course I was. The way home was a lot harder than the way to the dance. We had to stop every two minutes for me to kiss Cynthia, or for her to shove her tongue down my throat. When we finally made it to her house, it was hard to be quiet enough not to wake her mom. I think if I had not been wearing a dress, Cynthia would have literally dragged me upstairs. We undressed each other at the same time as best we could while also fighting to place some lovebites on each others' necks. I was pretty much on autopilot by then, yet it turns out that was a terrible idea. Taking our dresses off without ripping them apart required more delicacy than an autopilot allowed. So we both kind of had to snap out of it before we really managed to get that done. It made the situation just awkward enough that for a few moments neither of us knew how to proceed. For a change I made the first move, putting Cynthia's hand on my bottom with just enough enthousiasm that it made a slight slapping noise. It's a wonderful feeling having another person's hands touching your butt and it easily breaks any built up tension. With all the tension gone, I brushed some stray bang from her face and placed it behind her left ear and then put my arms around her neck. "My lady Cyn, would you like a taste of me?" She smiled, kissed me, and suddenly she had her lips on my nipple and her hands all over my body. She was soft and careful, and rather than pulling me toward her bed, she guided me to it. I sat down on the bed while Cynthia sat down on her knees in front of it, still giving my breasts some careful consideration. I nudged forward a little while I opened my legs further and put my hands on Cynthia's shoulders to guide her in. It was... indescribable. While it took some time, Cynthia worked and licked and learned and brought me to orgasm in such a fantastic manner that a very loud satisfied sigh escaped my lips against my will. My legs had no desire to support me, though I knew I just had to share my pleasure and return the favor. Instead I pulled Cynthia on top of me and gave her a sloppy kiss. It never even occurred to me that my sweat and vaginal fluids were all over her face and mouth. I tried to roll her under me, but she had to give me some help with that. She giggled and told me I could catch my breath first, but I just shook my head no and got started as well as I could. She was already wet, but it seemed like it took some time before she really managed to get into it, pushing my face deeper into her mound as I ate her. I never really managed to catch my breath, but my efforts became more enthousiastic and rhythmic over time anyway. I really wanted to make her feel what I had felt. I seemed to be down there forever before she finally practically convulsed as she came. "That was... that was... fantastic," she said after a while, taking deep breaths. After a short rest, we became a tangle of arms, legs, pleasure, and awkward transitions. We tried getting at each others sensitive parts in any way that we could. If anyone had seen us, they might have thought we were wrestling. And to be honest, sometimes I prefer it that way. Lying next to each other to get each other off is so boring, and missionary is not always an improvement on that. We brought each other to orgasm again, pretty close together actually, this time, though it took a lot to keep working on Cynthia while my mind and body were trying their damndest to make me forget everything. "Again?" She asked, finally as out of breath as I was. "Sure," I said, though I'm not sure I really meant it at that point. I mean, sure, I wanted more pleasure, but I didn't believe for a second I still had the energy to make that happen. "Good," she replied, "because I have one more surprise." The surprise was a pair of strap-ons, both black and both pretty big. Well, I thought they were big at the time, but even I have used bigger ones in all the years and I've seen ones that were more massive than those. I imagine I looked reluctant or even exasperated at that point, I had never even considered a strap-on though I had seen them before. "So no-one can ever claim that this night doesn't count and we're still virgins," Cynthia explained. She wanted it all and I couldn't deny her. I was going to go first however, because if I'd had to endure one more orgasm first I'd collapse. She put the strap-on on me. It was not as hard as I'd imagined it to be. I took my time. As little energy as it had and as much as I wanted to get it over with, I put in the effort to get her and myself wet again so we could actually enjoy this. And realizing that, I knew we both needed a drink first, so I sent Cynthia down to the kitchen to fetch some water. In the nude, of course. She smiled an evil grin that said she'd get me back for that, but she did as she was told nonetheless. Her body was gorgeous, glistening with all that sweat. She returned quickly enough, a large bottle of water cradled in her right arm. She drank first, then me, then a kiss. And then again. By the time we were done with that the second time, I was already caressing her body, playing with her breasts and kissing her neck. I probed her vulva to see if she was ready for the next round. She was getting there, but needed a little push, so I got on one knee and gave it a good lick. And just to be sure, she did the same when I got back up. She knew what I was doing. Of course, she knew, she was in this too, right? Two bodies becoming one, even if that's a bit hard to remember when you're scrounging up all the energy you have left to have another go. She gave that strap-on one hell of a blowjob, but while that may have been hot to look at, it did very little for me. When I thought it was good enough, I touched her cheek and she rose. I wasn't entirely sure how to do this, after all, I didn't normally have a penis, so it wasn't exactly something I'd considered. Suddenly, I could only think of one thing: the time she had put me face down on the floor with my ass in the air. So that's what I made her do. Her face buried in her pillow on her bed, her ass up for access. Well, access to her vulva, not her ass. I pushed in as gently as I could, but still she whimpered. I did the same when my turn came. I don't exactly know how to describe what came next. Normal sex is kind of dull unless you're there, really, so let's just stick to: I did my very best to build up a satisfying rhythm. It took a little time and took more than just pumping. I don't know how often I slapped her ass, but I do remember that I could not deliver the last one because that was when she orgasmed. She didn't move for minutes, her head still on her pillow, ass still up in the air. She was smiling and laughing and gasping for air. My turn was quite different. She put me on her bed on my back, gently caressing me, kissing me, looking me in the eyes as she guided her strap-on in. Like I said before, it hurt just as much for me as it did for her. It took some gritting of teeth to get through the discomfort. It didn't help that strap-ons aren't really designed to be used in that position. Or at least ours weren't. Once she figured that out, I found my knees next to my head and everything became a whole lot more intense. My own orgasm was accompanied by complete exhaustion. I just gave Cynthia a kiss and then turned toward the wall and closed my eyes. It was all I could do. Cynthia took off her strap-on, but had the foresight to kick it under the bed, then she kissed me in the neck and we drifted off to sleep. It came harder than I expected, but just when I thought I wasn't going to be able to sleep I opened my eyes and it was morning.

Chapter 5: ---------- Our final exams flew past as if they were made of time. After we were stuck with a short week of school without any classes. None of the teachers were crazy enough to try to teach anymore, so this time was used to prepare the graduation dance and say our goodbyes to our soon-to-be-former classmates, while the teachers corrected our exams. Cynthia still did not allow me to show my affection toward her at school, though she also said she was looking forward to the impact it would have at the dance. In hindsight, I should at least have told Rebecca before the dance. She was my best friend, she should have known. That tuesday Cyn told me to come over after school. She blocked my eyes with her hands as she led me to her room, pausing here and there for a kiss in my neck. When she finally released me from my hand-induced blindness, I was staring at her bed, where two dresses were laid out for my eyes to feast upon. The first was a floor length dress with sleeves. It was mainly a soft blue with a slightly fuller shade as a deeper layer. To break the monotony, the dress had highlights in a soft pink. Most notably the ribbons along the front and sleeves, lining along the breasts and here and there the seams. Above the dress, there was a pink lace necklace with a little bell attached. The other dress was a somewhat shorter and less poofy affair and came with a sizable pair of black leather boots. The dress itself had a black skirt horizontally slashed with red folds. Above that lay a sturdy looking corset, again in black but with vertical red lines. There was a top for beneath the corset, but it didn't look big enough to hide the cleavage Cynthia would have. Yeah, it was pretty obvious that was going to be her dress. "They're beautiful," I told Cynthia, turning around. She was holding a pair of panties, as adorably pink as the ribbons on my dress, with a blue white kitty face on the front and an equally blue tail on the back. "And these are going to be your underwear for that night," she said with a twinkle in her eye. "And if you'll let me, I'd also like to take them back off you." That last part was with a lot less confidence and with a lot more care. I already knew she didn't want to go over sex too quickly or too lightly, but it was still heartwarming to hear her so hesitant when she spoke about it. Her normal dominant posture making way for one of worry and care. If anything, that made me love her even more. Nevertheless, I had to make her wait. A promise right that instant seemed wrong, too eager. If she was taking this so carefully, then it would have been wrong for me to just dive into it because I wanted to do anything for her. No, it needed to be right, and I wouldn't be able to see if it was until the time came. So I told her I couldn't promise anything, that the dance would tell. "Sounds fair," she replied, her full confidence back into her voice. "So, try it on!" I nodded and started to undress, but Cynthia stopped me. "No-no, let me." She took her time undressing me, enjoying the opportunity. She enjoyed brushing my skin whenever she pulled something off. She gave me a kiss halfway through. She helped me get dressed too, though there was not nearly as much work there and it was a bit clumsier too. She did take satisfaction from putting that little bell around my neck. The first of many. It felt nice, but also in a weird way intimate. Not that I could tell why. My dress wasn't the only one that needed checking out. Cynthia began undressing herself, but I immediately jumped in. I didn't have any right to undress her, yet that didn't mean I shouldn't lend a hand anyway. She bit her lip and let me. In hindsight, she was really getting antsy, and had she not had as much self control as she did, we would've had sex right then and there. Instead, I simply helped her get her dress on. Her skirt fell slightly below the knees, the top covered her to just above her nipples. She was still wearing bra, so she unclipped that and took it off so I could get started on the corset. I yanked the threads at the back as hard as I could, as I had seen in movies a few times. I was a bit disappointed she didn't gasp before she told me to tie it up. I had to redo it anyway, it was not equally tight all the way up, so it needed some good tugging at the bottom. "Better," she said when I was done. When she turned around, her breasts were on display. I was a bit jealous that others were going to get to see them like this, but I didn't voice any of that to Cynthia. Whatever pleased her and all that. After we enjoyed looking at each other and ourselves for a while, Cynthia turned to me and went: "I asked you here for two reasons. The second being..." She hesitated for a second. "With our dresses, we have an excuse to get our parents together and tell them." "Tell them what?" I almost went, but I realized in time to keep my mouth shut, so instead I said: "oh." "You should call your parents now." That was not so much a command as it was a call to action, a challenge for me to be brave. Ten minutes was all it took for my parents to get there. That was entirely faster than I had expected them to get there. I mean, they had picked me up at Cynthia's before, but even if they knew the route by heart it they had stepped on it. Dropping everything they were doing and rushing over. They would have had to. When the doorbell rang, Cynthia distracted me with a kiss. "To calm your nerves," she said, though it may well have been to calm her own. This was as new to her as it was to me. Nevertheless, at the time, she still looked like a rock to me. Completely and utterly solid. We waited for Cynthia's mom to call us down before we left Cynthia's room. The top of the stairs proved to be a barrier, but one that was conquered by her hand grabbing mine. She led the way, but approaching the living room door she let go. Not to keep up appearances, as you might think, but because you cannot approach a topic in your own way if you throw it in someone's face first. I was so nervous I didn't even hear my parents compliment my dress. Nevertheless, I showed it off automatically, twirling around and actually enjoying the caress of the fabric against my legs. Cynthia told me after that while she got compliments too, our parents were clearly not as thrilled about how much cleavage she was showing. Of course, that was forgotten the second the topic changed to the actual matter at hand. "Oh, and for practicality's sake," Cynthia said, "we're going to the dance together." My attention was never so sharp as that moment. My dad nodding 'ok' seemed to be in slow motion. "Because, you know, we ARE together." Our parents didn't seem to register it right away, but when they saw Cynthia holding my hand it sank in. Cynthia's mom pretty quickly went: "oh! Should've seen that coming when you started showing up toward he end of a school year, Ensleigh dear." My own parents were not as enthused. "Are you sure this is what you want?" My mom asked, while my dad just looked on, apparently lost in his own mental maze. Probably trying to block out all the lesbian porn he had ever watched. Cynthia nudged me. "Yeah mom," I replied, "she... I... I've been looking for someone like her." It betrayed so much and yet said so little. My mom didn't really understand of course. Most people assume more innocence than you actually have. Especially if you're into weird things and they are not. That's most people, by the way. Some people will say that everybody is into something weird, but that's simply not true. Most people only think they are into something weird, but really, they simply have no idea what is out there and consider even a different sexual position to be 'weird'. They'd faint if they ever went to a fetish party. We all sat and stood around awkwardly for a while. Until Cyn's dad came home and he got the same surprise as the rest. He just smiled and said: "So long as you're happy sweetheart, it's all fine by me." A second later he added, "if there's ever a problem, even if it's embarrassing, come to me. I might be able to help. And that goes for either of you." Suddenly her mother's attention was entirely focused on her father, some kind of weird mixture of curiosity and pride. As if she didn't really know her husband afterall, but was glad to have chosen him. I tell you that happily at this point as if I had figured it out right then, but to be honest it took me until after the end of our relationship before I realized. "Come, let's go pull off our dresses and prepare them for friday," Cynthia suggested. Her usually commanding tone was hidden behind layers of... relief and love, I think. I never really asked her. When we were up the stairs, I whispered in her ear "I need to use the bathroom." She let me. I was a bit disappointed. We hadn't done anything special in a while and thus I really longed to do something intimate with her. Because that's what all that kinky stuff turns out to be. Especially if you do it with someone you actually care about. Cynthia, of course, was preparing herself for the dance and wanted me pure and true and like a true girlfriend. To that end, we didn't do anything all week. For me, that meant the dance took an eternity to arrive.

Keeping secrets Part 8 (of 11) It was around lunch time when Tracy arrived at Jessie and Diego's salvage yard. She would have been there sooner, but it had taken a while to find the organic, free-range, vegan, weirdo-nudist-hippie-commune-approved lunch she was planning on bribing Kat with. As she got out of the van, she could hear clanging of hammers on metal punctuated by loud German swearing. Following the sound, she found Diego furiously demolishing a car using only a sledgehammer and foul language. Tracy decided to leave him be and quietly backed away. She went to the front office and quickly realised why Diego was upset. Sitting by the desk with both her legs in casts, balancing the paperwork on a tray on her lap, was Jessie. "Oh my god Jessie. What happened?" Tracy rushed over. "Oh, just a little mechanical failure." Jessie waved her hands dismissively. "It doesn't look that little to me," Tracy said, putting the box of food on the desk and grabbing a chair. "It's embarrassing, really. I had a flat on the way back from the race, and I kind of lost control a little." Jessie smiled sheepishly. "They're just hairlines. I'll be fine in a month or two. And besides, it'll give me time to focus on our movies." "Please don't tell me you're going to make any new ones while you're still in those." Tracy pointed at the casts. "Maybe, maybe not. They are a giant hassle though. You'd be surprised at how many things become harder to do like this." "I bet. But shouldn't you still be in a hospital?" "Nah. I got out of there as soon as I could. You know I can't stand those places. They're full of sick people." Jessie picked up a marker and tossed it to Tracy. "So, wanna sign it?" "Yeah, sure." Tracy scrawled her name on Jessie's left shin, noticing that there were already more than a dozen names on the casts as well as a drawing of a green car. "Is Kat around? I need to talk to her." "She's in the shack, I think. I haven't seen her today." "OK. Talk to you later?" Tracy stood and picked up the lunch. "I'm not going anywhere," Jessie replied. "At least not very quickly." Tracy crossed the yard and knocked on the door of Kat's shack. "It's Tracy. Are you decent in there?" "Huh? Uh, yeah, I mean no. Gimme a minute, will you?" came Kat's reply through the door. There was the sound of things being moved around as if Kat was frantically looking for something. "Do you need a hand or something?" "No, no. I'm fine. Just a sec… Ah, there it is." The sounds stopped and Tracy thought she could hear some loud whispers inside. Then the door opened and Kat came out wearing an oversized, green and white tracksuit. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?" Tracy asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Kinda, but not really. Let's talk out here." Kat gestured to some old patio furniture. "I brought lunch," Tracy said, trying to steer the conversation away from whoever was inside the shack. She held out the box. "Great! I'm starving." Kat grabbed the box and began eating. "So what was it you wanted to talk about?" Before Tracy had a chance to answer, Kat interrupted her. "Hang on. This needs something." She put down the food and got up. "Be right back." When Kat returned, she dropped a handful of questionable-looking sausage pieces on top of the salad and slathered it all with barbecue sauce. "Ahh, perfect," she said with her mouth full. "So, Dieter said you had a problem?" "Dieter?" "Yes, Uncle Dieter." "I thought his name was Diego," Tracy said. "Oh, he wishes. He thinks that name 'better reflects his passionate, Latin nature'." Kat made air-quotes. "You know he dyes his hair too, right?" "Huh?" Tracy was getting a lot of new information about somebody she thought she knew. "Oh yeah. He's just as blonde as me." Tracy chuckled, making mental notes about all the new things she could tease Diego about. "You want some of this?" Kat held out the salad to Tracy. "Nah. I'm not really a fan of barbecue sauce." For a few moments, they just sat there in silence; Kat shovelling food into her mouth. Then Tracy spoke again. "I thought you were one of those 'farm-fresh, organic, not tested on animals, PETA-approved' vegetarians. If I'd have known about this," she pointed at the sausage salad, "I would have brought a couple of pulled pork sandwiches instead." Kat laughed. "Next time, Tracy, next time. So, what was it you needed to talk to me about?" "I had some questions about the hardwired bits of VR-rigs. A friend of mine said that they were pretty similar to BTL's." "Parts of them are," Kat said cautiously. "You're going to have to be a little more specific." "You know the safety paralysis, right?" "Yesss?" "Is it possible to override it without changing the wiring of the computer you use to access the VR?" "I suppose, but why would you want to? There's no benefit to flailing about uncontrollably." "But what if you only wanted to override parts of it. Just make the body do a specific thing." Kat put down the food and stroked her chin. "Maybe," she finally admitted. "It would depend on what you're trying to do. Complex stuff would be probably be impossible. So no remote-controlled, wireheaded assassins; despite what they show in movies. But getting muscles to twitch or tighten or relax might be doable. It'd take ages to figure out the coding, but I suppose it's possible." "How specific could this control be?" Tracy leaned forward. "I don't know. Now what's this all about? Because I don't think you're planning on making an exercise VR where people actually use their muscles. Although that would be a good business idea." "OK, I have this case where I'm watching a guy because his wife thinks he's cheating on her." "Well, was he?" "I guess that depends on your definition of cheating. I tracked him to this website-" "Let me guess: A fuck-VR," Kat said and rolled her eyes. "People are so predictable." "Not quite. When I enter the site, I'm in this giant bedroom and I'm baby-sized. Complete with a diaper and everything." "That's cute," Kat said and chuckled. "Yeah, well, they had simulated a whole bunch of details like a messed-up balance to make it hard to walk, and you have trouble talking, and..." Tracy paused. "And incontinence?" Tracy blushed. "Yeah," she admitted. "And let me guess: That doing that felt so good it triggered an orgasm?" "Yeah," Tracy said again. "That doesn't sound so weird. I mean, it's kind of a niche market, but still." Kat speared a piece of sausage with her fork and ate it. "That's not the weird part. Believe me, I've seen weirder VR's." "What then?" "When I logged off, I had..." Tracy paused uncomfortably. "You know... Done it. For real." It took a few seconds before Kat understood what Tracy meant. "Oh," she said. "And you're wondering if it was the VR that made you do it," Kat said; more a statement of fact than a question. "Or if you did it yourself." "I kind of need to know what happened," Tracy admitted. Just then, the door of Kat's shack opened. A woman who could have been Tracy's sister came out. She had the same tall and gangly build, the same short, brown hair, and Tracy was pretty sure she had the same outfit at home. She knelt next to Kat's chair and kissed her hand. "Thank you for a wonderful night, Mistress Katarina," she said before getting back up and half-jogging away. Kat noticed Tracy's stare. "What?" "I... Mistress Katarina?" "Barbecue wasn't the only reason why I was kicked out of the commune." Kat smiled smugly. "I thought you said I wasn't your type," Tracy said. "But she looked just like me." "Tracy, are you jealous?" "No!" Tracy's voice jumped an octave. "I just... I mean... She looked just like me, and apparently she was your type." "Tracy," Kat said calmly. "You're not my type because you're so vanilla that I wouldn't be surprised if you wore a swimsuit in the shower." "Hey, I've done some seriously weird shit," Tracy protested, feeling oddly defensive. "In VR's, sure. But what's the wildest thing you've done in real life?" "I..." Tracy stopped. Then she sighed. "And that is why you're not my type." Tracy didn't want to admit that Kat was right, but she wasn't wrong. She hadn't even felt comfortable walking around naked in her own apartment with the blinds closed. "And now you're feeling guilty because it felt good when you peed." Again, more of a statement than a question. "No. And I didn't say I liked it," Tracy protested. "Oh please. Of course you liked it. It was a sex-VR. It's designed to make you feel good. That's the whole point." Kat just looked at Tracy, waiting. Tracy deflated. "OK, maybe," she finally admitted. "But I just need to know how the VR made me do it for real," she added quickly. "Sure, sure. It sounds like an interesting puzzle and I'm bored anyway, so why not. Do you have the log files?" Tracy fumbled through her pockets and pulled out a thumb drive that she handed to Kat, who inserted it into her laptop. Kat whistled. "Quick question: When you were on this site, did you have any other uncontrolled movements? Arms or legs, stuff like that?" "I don't know. I mean, when I logged out, I still had my keyboard where I left it and I didn't have any bruises or anything, so I don't think so." Kat nodded. Then she looked at the screen and rubbed her chin. "You're missing some files here," she said after scrolling through the contents of the thumb drive. "I am?" Tracy walked around Kat to get a look at the screen. "Well, those are all my programs captured." Kat looked up at her. "But were you looking for this kind of info to begin with?" "No. Financial data." "Well that explains it. Anyway, the best way for me to get those files is to look at them live." "Live? Do you mean...?" "Yep. If you want answers, you're going back there." Kat closed the laptop. "Now?" "No. I need a couple of hours to set up my gear and get ready. Why don't you bring the suitcase over this afternoon and we can get started then." "And how much is this going to cost me?" Tracy asked, suddenly remembering that Kat probably wasn't doing this out of the goodness of her heart. "If I get to keep whatever code I find, it's on the house." "What do you mean?" "Oh relax. I mean actual code, not records. Blackmail is just too easy to trace." "OK," Tracy said cautiously. "So I'll see you... Around five-ish?" Tracy sighed. "I guess."

I guess I can post this a day or two early. After all, it's pollen season and my meds are making me a little woozy, so I'll pretend I can't remember I was planning on posting this on Tuesday. 😉 Keeping secrets Part 6 Tracy reached down and touched the smooth plastic covering the diaper. This was certainly not what she had expected. But what had she really expected? Other than some harem fantasy, of course. She inspected herself, and gave a mental sigh of relief when she found that she still had the grown-up avatar body, despite her clothes, or lack thereof. At least he doesn't seem to be into kids. Thank god. Tracy turned to her side and awkwardly got to her feet. The floor felt wobbly and the big diaper forced her legs apart, so the few steps to the huge chair in front of her became a clumsy waddle. Tracy almost fell, but managed to grab the arm rest of the chair before falling. Taking another step, she came close enough to stand up straight, albeit in a very broad-legged stance. Tracy adjusted the unfamiliar bulk between her legs. There was a slight crinkling sound. The detective in her couldn't help cataloguing everything. The level of detail here is amazing. It must have taken ages to program. Sound, balance... Tracy took a deep breath... ...and smell. "That'th thome theriouth..." Tracy paused. "Thilly Thammy thingth wude thongth." She rolled her eyes a little. Oh that's cute. She wasn't sure whether she should be impressed or worried with the level of detail that whoever programmed this had included. Focusing on the lower left of her field of vision brought up the terminal window, showing her tracking program hard at work. All she had to do, was to make sure she wasn't kicked until it was done. Tracy dismissed the window and looked around the room. Other than everything being three times too big, it looked quite normal. There was a double bed with a night stand on either side, a dressing table with a mirror, the chair Tracy was still holding on to, and a wardrobe that looked big enough to drive an eighteen-wheeler to Narnia through. The one thing that was missing though, was other people. OK, so if this is a solo kind of VR, maybe he's not having an affair. The door knob was too high up for Tracy to reach, so she started looking around for something to stand on. She let go of the chair and waddled over to the bed to look under it. After just a couple of steps however, the floor decided to tilt sharply to one side and Tracy fell. Twisting desperately, she managed to avoid falling face first, but the impact still knocked the breath out of her. Tracy rolled over on her back and tried to get her breath back and that's when it happened. There was the slightest twinge of pressure and then she felt a rush of warmth spread across her crotch and down between her legs. She was peeing. And she hadn't even felt that she needed to go to the bathroom. Tracy rolled over on her side and got up on her hands and knees, not wanting to sit on the wet diaper, and crawled towards the bed. The floor felt more stable that way. However, with every step the slowly swelling diapers would rub against her like a velvet hand. Tracy felt conflicted. On the one hand, the diapers felt really good. But on the other hand, they were diapers. And wet ones at that. She knew she was supposed to feel... disgusted? Ashamed? Anything other than horny? She tried rationalising. It's not like they're real. It's all just a computer simulation. And this place is probably programmed to make me feel this... There was another rush of pee, this time it felt different. Better. The swollen diapers spread the liquid warmth much faster this time. Tracy's entire crotch felt like it was enveloped in a tingling wave of pleasure. ...way. She froze, everything else forgotten as she came. Tracy sat down. The resulting wet squish triggering another massive orgasm. She closed her eyes and let out an involuntary squeal as it washed over her like a tidal wave. It was unlike anything Tracy had ever felt before. She was so lost in her ecstasy that she almost missed the sound of the door opening. Forcing her eyes open, Tracy saw a giant woman standing in the doorway. "So this is where you're hiding," she said. "I thought I heard something." She bent down and scooped Tracy up as if she weighed nothing. "Wha..." Tracy protested weakly and tried to get away. "Lemme go." "Shh-shh-shh, little princess," the giant said. "Mommy's here." She produced a large pacifier and pushed it into Tracy's mouth. Tracy almost reflexively began sucking on it. "That's better, isn't it?" She rocked Tracy gently and stroked her back with a hand the size of a frying pan. A warm feeling of complete and utter comfort filled Tracy. It was like her entire world turned into a warm, fluffy, cotton cloud. All she wanted to do was to snuggle closer. The giant woman gave Tracy's butt a little squeeze. "Does mommy's little princess need a new diaper?" Tracy only managed a weak moan before burying her face in the woman's chest. She felt herself being carried, but couldn't be bothered to look up. Then all of a sudden she was laid down on her back and the feeling went away. Tracy instinctively reached out for the woman, wanting that feeling of warmth and comfort to come back. Looking around, she saw she was lying on a changing table as big as her van. That's when a something occurred to her. How do I know that everything is really bigger and it's not just me that is smaller? The thought didn't bounce around her brain for long though. The giant woman began undoing Tracy's diaper. Tracy squirmed, but the woman easily held her down with one hand while removing the diaper with the other. "Now stop fussing princess." The woman used a washcloth to clean Tracy before applying enough baby powder to make Tony Montana pay attention. Tracy sneezed as some of the white cloud got in her nose. Then all of a sudden she was lifted up by her legs while the woman slipped a new diaper in under her butt. She lowered Tracy onto it and pulled it up between her legs to fasten it. The new diaper didn't feel anywhere as good as the old one. Tracy couldn't quite put her finger on it. It felt stiff and scratchy and... dry, Tracy realised. The woman picked Tracy up again and the wonderful feeling of warmth and comfort returned. She found herself not really wanting to do anything. The woman carried Tracy back to the bedroom and sat down in the armchair, letting Tracy lie against her chest. All she wanted to do was just lie there and listen to the woman's breath and heartbeat. There was really only one thing missing. Tracy closed her eyes and tried to relax the right muscles, which was an odd thought since the muscles in question weren't even real. In no time at all, she felt the now already familiar warmth spreading down between her legs. The combination of the comfort of being held and the sudden orgasmic rush of the wet diaper was so overpowering that Tracy only managed a happy little whimper around the pacifier still stuck in her mouth. Tracy wasn't sure how much time had passed, but she noticed a small, flashing, blue light down and to the left. She forced herself to focus on it, opening a small window that announced that the tracking program had found the information it had been looking for and had shut down after making a copy. For a brief moment, Tracy thought about logging out and getting away, but she felt just so unbelievably comfortable that her work ethic was easily overpowered. Besides, Tracy told herself, she had paid for an hour and it'd just be stupid to waste the money. So she snuggled closer, feeling like she didn't have a care in the world, and closed her eyes again. After what felt like only minutes, Tracy found herself floating in front of the login page, having been unceremoniously kicked when her prepaid time ran out. It took all of her willpower not to blow the rest of the money on the Kuznetsova debit card for another hour. Tracy opened the terminal window and confirmed that Dennis was still logged in. Good. That should give me time to get out of here before he has a chance to see my car again. Tracy used the admin-privileges that her backdoor gave her and erased all traces of her connecting to the network. Then she reached for the mental off-switch and disconnected. As her consciousness rushed back into her body, Tracy realised something was very wrong. The first thing that hit her was the smell: A pungent aroma that had become all too familiar over the last week. At first, Tracy thought she had left one of the windows open, but then she realised she was sitting in a puddle of urine. "What the hell?!?" Tracy put the keyboard away and carefully eased herself out of the beanbag, making sure the urine stayed in the depression made by her butt. She had never been more happy about the vinyl cover. Grimacing with disgust, Tracy peeled off the soaked jeans and underwear and put them in a plastic bag. She looked through the overnight bag that she kept under the front seat for for a towel to dry herself off, then cleaned herself as best as she could with the hand wipes she still had left. After pulling on a pair of old sweatpants from the overnight bag, Tracy opened the side door of the van and carefully eased the beanbag out, letting the urine pour down on the pavement. She quickly wiped the beanbag off with the towel and threw it in the bag with her wet jeans before tying it shut. A quick glance at the screen showed Tracy that Dennis' computer was still connected to the network, so she got in behind the wheel, opened all the windows and left the parking lot. Heading back home, Tracy debated whether to clean the car first, but personal hygiene won out. She left the bag of wet clothes in the car and hurried inside. After a long shower and a change of clothes, she found some other dirty laundry and headed for her usual 24-hour laundromat. While sitting in the laundromat, Tracy had time to think. Why had she wet herself? When she went into a VR or remote controlled her drones, her body was paralysed. That was a normal safety feature so you wouldn't flail around and hurt yourself. And she had never wet herself before. It wasn't like she had been drinking a lot either. She had even checked if the energy drinks and bars contained any diuretics. They didn't. Lots of other unhealthy chemicals though; including, to Tracy's disgust, something that was made from the anal secretions of beavers. So the only explanation was that it had something to do with the site itself. She would have to look over the log-files. A little over an hour later, she walked out with a bag full of clean clothes. Now, all she needed to do was to clean the car, and all traces of her 'little accident' would be gone. Tracy drove to a car wash and spent the better part of an hour cleaning the back of the car, including the beanbag. When she was done, she was feeling absolutely beat. Thankfully, the drive home was short, but by the time she parked the car and stumbled out of the parking garage, she was so tired that Jamal actually offered to abandon his post and help her across the street. Thankfully the landlord had fixed the elevator, so Tracy didn't have to use the stairs. Once she was inside, Tracy left the suitcase by the door and shuffled to the bedroom, falling face first onto the bed. She pulled the pillow down over her head to drown out the loud party next door and passed out.

Keeping secrets Part 5 Tracy woke up with a pounding headache and a tongue that felt and tasted like she had been licking a dirty carpet. She carefully opened her eyes and surveilled her surroundings. She was in her underwear on the sofa in Jessie and Diego's tiny living room. Outside the window the sun was rising over a pile wrecked cars in a display that would probably be quite artistic if it was a photo or a painting. But right now it was just glaringly painful. Tracy picked what she hoped was a bit of lint out of the corner of her mouth. The previous evening was a bit of a blur. She remembered using a camera drone to film almost four hours of footage of Jessie and Diego driving recklessly. Jessie had been true to her word and although there had been a couple of cases of her flashing random pedestrians or other drivers, she had stayed dressed most of the time. While Jessie and Diego had 'blown off some steam' afterwards, Tracy and Kat had had a chance to geek out. It turned out that they shared an interest in what Tracy liked to call 'circumventing computer security systems'. After that, they had ended up watching playlists of hacking scenes from old movies and drinking whenever there was bullshit hacking on the screen. After a particularly bad movie, they had taken a little break to look for snacks. Kat had gone on a little rant in which Tracy learned that she hadn't actually programmed digital drugs, but rather designed the chips themselves, making sure that they'd burn out after one use to keep people coming back for more. When they had gone back to their drinking game, the playlist had reached Hackers. Tracy could remember the first twenty minutes. Vaguely. After that, everything was worryingly blank. She was about to get up when her feet bumped into Kat lying under a blanket on the floor next to the sofa. She groaned and opened her eyes to peer up at Tracy. "You look like I feel," she croaked. "Mm-hmm," was all Tracy managed. Kat pushed the blanket aside and got up, revealing that she was completely naked. She left the blanket on the floor and shuffled towards the bathroom, giving Tracy a full view of the circuit board-pattern tattooed across her entire back. Tracy's brain slowly began adding two and two together, constantly getting to five. "Kat?" she asked in a hoarse whisper. Kat stopped and looked back at her. "We didn't..." Tracy paused. "Did we?" "Don't think so," Kat replied, not sounding entirely sure. "You're not really my type." With Kat out of the room, Tracy looked around for her clothes, finding her jeans bundled up next to the sofa and her t-shirt stuck halfway down between two of the cushions. She dressed as quickly as she managed and tried to sneak out. "Well, well, well. Doing the walk of shame, are we?" Tracy stopped, just standing there, still holding her shoes. She had forgotten that Jessie was one of the earliest risers she had ever known. It had made sleepovers really annoying when they were girls. "I..." "I mean, you two looked so cute all snuggled up together last night," Jessie continued Tracy felt a blush creep up her cheeks. "I... We... We didn't..." Jessie laughed. "I know. I'm just fucking with you. You were passed out across her lap while she was yelling at the screen. Wanna see the pictures?" Jessie held up her phone to show Tracy a picture of her and Kat on the sofa. Thankfully they were both dressed, although Kat's shirt was fully unbuttoned. "I hate you." Tracy sat down on a crate to put her shoes on. "I know," Jessie replied, still grinning. "I guess I should have warned you that Kat likes to be naked. And I don't mean just when she sleeps. Diego's parents lived in this weirdo, nudist, hippie commune in Brazil. His sister still does." "Uh-huh." Tracy tied her shoes and stood. "Anyway, are you staying for breakfast?" Tracy thought about it, but quickly came to the conclusion that it'd just be too awkward. "Thanks for the offer, but I have to get back to the office." "Duty calls, huh?" Tracy smiled and shrugged. "You know, I need money for my toys." "Speaking of toys, Kat said that the suitcase'll be ready on Tuesday or Wednesday." "Good. I think I might need it again soon." Tracy dug her keys out of her pocket and got in the car. "See you in a couple of days then. Oh, and make sure you don't use my name in the credits of your movie. I really don't need any job offers like last time." Tracy's drive back to the office was uneventful and when she pulled into the parking garage, Jamal was on duty as always. "Anyone looking for me?" Tracy asked. Jamal stopped biting the tip of his pencil and looked up from his crossword puzzle. "Not that I've noticed. Eight letters, 'state', ends with 'O, blank, A'?" "Paranoia?" Tracy suggested. "Very funny." Jamal raised the barrier and Tracy rolled past him and down the slope. Just as she rolled up the window, she heard him exclaim "Oklahoma!". When Tracy opened the door to her office, she was greeted with a gust of warm, stuffy air. Oh great. The air conditioning is on the fritz. Again. She kicked off her shoes and dropped her jacket on a chair as she crossed the room to her tiny apartment which made up the rest of her office space. She gave the air conditioning a whack, hoping it'd turn back on, but no luck. After leaving a message with her landlord about the air conditioning, Tracy opened a window and went to take a shower. Twenty minutes later, Tracy was sitting at her desk wearing nothing but a towel. Despite the shower, she was already almost as sweaty as the bottle of water in her hand. The desk fan was blowing across a tray full of ice cubes, creating a slightly cooler breeze, but it was fighting a losing battle against the heat. She checked her email, deleting the spam that made it past her filters. When that was done, there were only three left. One of them was for Alexandra Pavlova. Event Horizon had some additional details from their meeting. Tracy ignored that one. The other two were more interesting. One was from Michael Hunt, a friend of hers. He had a straight-forward surveillance job that he didn't have time for, so he wondered if she wanted it. Mike had three big problems: He didn't see how his name made it hard for people to take him seriously. Tracy had told him several times that he ought to change it. He also loved gambling, although he wasn't very good at it, and he always fell for married women. That meant he spent a lot of time hiding from bookies and angry husbands. Tracy wasn't sure which one it was now, but Mike was a decent guy so she replied and set up a meeting early the next morning. The last email was from Mrs. Devereux, asking if there was any new information. Tracy tried to keep her answer as vague as possible, in case her husband read the email. She said that some of her suspicions seemed valid but that she didn't have any solid proof yet. She added that she would let her know as soon as there were any major developments. Tracy pulled up the GPS tracker which showed her that Dennis' car hadn't moved since she had checked the previous day. I guess the Linwood incident gave him pause. Tracy figured that in order to catch Dennis, she would have to go undercover, so the rest of the day was spent creating a new online profile. She decided to make this one a 21-year-old foreign exchange student recently arrived from Turkmenistan. That'd be obscure enough that on-the-spot background questions would be easier to bluff her way through. Also, Tracy had a Russian translation program that should do a good job with the language. After doing a few searches for common Russian names, she settled on Ivana Kuznetsova, literally translating to Jane Smith. Tracy smiled a little at that. When she was finally done, the sun was setting and the temperature was finally dropping to a more comfortable level. Tracy shut down her laptop and stood. A thought bubbled to the surface of her mind: The memory of Kat walking naked and unashamed across the room in Jessie and Diego's living room. She had seemed really relaxed. I wonder... Tracy looked at the windows to make sure the blinds were closed. Then she undid the towel. It felt strange to be naked like this outside her bathroom or bedroom. Tracy walked across the office to her kitchen to throw the empty bottle in the recycling bin. It didn't really feel liberating or relaxed. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time she had felt so self-conscious. Getting dressed, Tracy soon felt more comfortable. I guess I'm not moving to a weirdo, nudist, hippie commune any time soon. Knowing that she would have to stay close to Dennis' computer to keep an eye on his activity, Tracy realised she would need some supplies. Half an hour later, her van was fully stocked for an extended stakeout. A box of energy bars, half a dozen bottles of water, another half dozen bottles of Wrath, an industrial-strength energy drink, and a big bag of ice for the cooler. The only thing missing was her remote control rig. Hopefully she wouldn't need it. ~~~ The meeting next morning turned out to be a waste of time. It had taken Tracy less than ten minutes to find out that the client was a stalker with a restraining order. Tracy found it a little odd since Mike usually vetted his clients better than this. After leaving a message about it for Mike, Tracy left to do some stalking of her own. Tracy parked in the same alley as the last time and used a suction-cup mount to set up a small dish antenna on the roof of the car. Turning on the computer, she started looking through the numerous Wi-Fi-networks available. It didn't take long to find the one belonging to Smith & Smythe, and it took even less time to connect to it. They really should take their cyber security more seriously. Only minutes later, the blue dot representing Dennis' car moved in from the edge of the map. It pulled into the parking garage and stopped. Tracy kept an eye on the computers connected to the network and a little while later, his computer appeared on the list. She set up a terminal window to display the websites it connected to and sat back to wait. Now, let's see how careless you are. Several hours later, Tracy concluded that Dennis was indeed a very careful man. His computer hadn't visited anything even remotely suspicious. He had even worked through the lunch break. Tracy fumbled with the funnel as she squatted over a bottle in the back of the van. Sometimes she envied men. Peeing during stakeouts was a lot easier for them. She put the cap back on the bottle and pulled her pants back up. Then she opened the door and looked both ways before tossing the bottle into one of the containers along the wall. Based on the smell in the alley, she wasn't the first to relieve herself there, but she refused to pee out in the open. There were limits to what she was willing to do, even when on a stakeout. Dennis worked late and didn't shut down his computer until almost six o'clock. When he did, he went straight home, only stopping at a convenience store. The next days passed in the same way and Tracy found that her tolerance for boredom was nearing its limit. But at least she was getting a lot of practice with the funnel. She spent the days reading, only looking up every time her computer dinged to indicate that Dennis visited a new site. It was nearing the end of work on Friday afternoon, and Tracy was almost done with 'The Long Goodbye'. Her stomach rumbled and she looked at the remaining energy bars with loathing. She swore that once she was done with this job, she was not eating another one of those for a long time. Tracy was still debating whether to ignore the hunger or force down one more of the grainy abominations. Before she could make up her mind, however, her computer indicated that Dennis had disconnected from the network. Tracy got up and quickly took down the antenna from the roof before getting in behind the wheel and waiting for Dennis's car to start moving. It only took a few minutes before the blue dot moved out onto the street. Following at a safe distance, Tracy's heart jumped as Dennis took an unexpected turn, not heading home. "Finally," Tracy said to the GPS. "It certainly took you long enough." Dennis drove for a while longer before pulling in to the parking lot next to a nondescript brick building. Tracy knew exactly what kind of place this was. It was another place like the Linwood. The big difference was that she had been part of the team that had set up the security system there. Hopefully, the back door into their system would still work. While Dennis made his way inside, Tracy lay back in the beanbag and grabbed the keyboard. She plugged a thumb drive with her fake personal information into the slot and connected to the hotel's network. She didn't have to wait long before she saw Dennis' computer connect too. She even recognised the address he was going to. "Okay Dennis, let's see what you're hiding from your wife." Tracy reached for the fat spiral wire and plugged it into her skull. Then she copied the address and hit enter. There was the annoying tingle of an incoming signal and Tracy closed her eyes, letting her body grow heavy and numb. She found herself floating in a featureless darkness. No, not even floating; there was an absence of sensation so she wasn't really doing anything. The only sensory input was a slowly pulsing 'Connecting' in front of her. Then the darkness unfolded itself into what looked like a giant patchwork quilt. Two of patches said 'Log in' and 'New user' in softly glowing letters. Well, I'll give them points for retro chic. I haven't seen that kind of login page in ages. Tracy reached out and touched the 'New user'-button. It morphed into a form already filled out with the personal information of Ivana Kuznetsova. She noticed all options to display personal information were off by default. Discreet too. Nice touch. The payment options were next. It was either pay per hour or a monthly subscription. That was a no-brainer for Tracy who prepaid for an hour with the debit card she had attached to the profile. It took a second for the form to process the payment, but soon enough, an avatar builder appeared. These were standardised across most VR websites, so Tracy just opted to use the avatar she had already made and stored on the thumb drive and pressed the 'Enter site' button. It flashed red and made a buzzing sound, but nothing else happened. Then Tracy noticed an entry that hadn't been filled out, asking 'small' or 'large'. Going through this many servers is bound to slow things down. A low-poly avatar is probably faster. Tracy checked the 'small' box which promptly expanded into 'Option 1' and 'Option 2'. There was no explanation what the difference between the two were, but Tracy figured that the first option was the baseline experience. Since she just needed to gain access to the site to snoop around, she decided to go with that. Tracy started the tracking program in a small terminal window, and saw it was poised to leap into action as soon as she was inside. Then she pressed 'Enter site' again. This time the quilt leapt at her, enveloping her in a warm darkness. When the darkness lifted, Tracy found herself sitting on the floor in a bedroom. A very oversized bedroom. Looking down, she saw she was wearing just a t-shirt and a big, puffy diaper. "What the hell?!?"

Keeping secrets Part 2 Forty-five minutes later, Tracy pulled up to the security booth of the underground parking garage of the building where Smith & Smythe had their offices. It wasn't in the most expensive part of the downtown area, but an office here would still cost twenty times what she currently paid, so she immediately felt that her van stuck out like a sore thumb among the shiny, non-dented, new cars. "It must be nice to have this kind of money," she murmured while ogling a red sportscar that could probably jump-start a ten year old boy into puberty. Unlike Jamal, the security guard in the booth had a crisp, grey uniform and looked like he was barely out of school. When he rose, Tracy saw that he had a utility belt that would have put Batman to shame. In addition to a gun and extra ammunition, he had a flashlight that was big enough to double as a baton hanging right next to a telescoping baton and maybe half a dozen zip-tie handcuffs. Compensating much? Looks like somebody didn't get in to the police academy. Tracy rolled down her window. The blast of heat ruined all the hard work the air-conditioning had done. "Good afternoon," Tracy said cheerfully. "I have a 3:30 appointment with Event Horizon." "Name?" the security guard said brusquely, obviously trying to sound tough and businesslike, but not quite pulling it off. "Alexandra Pavlova. Just like the cake." Tracy pulled a big, multicoloured handbag from between the seats and started rummaging through it. "I have my driver's licence in here, somewhere." She knew exactly where it was, but wanted to give the guard the impression of a ditzy blonde. Out of the corner of her eye, Tracy saw the guard shift his weight from one foot to the other. Already? You need to learn some patience, little boy. Just as the guard was about to speak, she triumphantly pulled the fake driver's licence from her bag. "There it is," she said and handed it over. "Now don't mind the hair on the picture. I just dyed it so people wouldn't think I was some kind of dumb blonde." Good god. All I'm missing is the chewing gum and the hair twirling. The guard made a show of checking the licence, but Tracy wasn't worried. She paid good money for her fake IDs so there was no way he'd be able to tell it wasn't real. He then checked his tablet, no doubt checking if Alexandra Pavlova actually had an appointment, which she did. "Okay, it's on the seventh floor." He returned Tracy's fake licence and she stuffed it back in the bag. "Thanks..." Tracy made a show of reading the guard's name tag, "...Daryl." She gave him a wink as he returned to his air-conditioned booth to raise the barrier. Tracy slowly drove down the ramp and into the garage itself. It took her almost five minutes to find Devereux's car. When she did, she parked as close as she could; only four cars away. For the next ten seconds Tracy just listened. No engine sounds and no footsteps; only the hum from the fluorescent lights and the barely audible traffic outside. Tracy grabbed the handbag and slipped out of the van. She quietly pushed the door closed and looked around. The only camera she could see was above the elevator doors. Making sure she kept cars between herself and the camera, Tracy made her way to Devereux's car. Being rather tall and gangly didn't exactly help when you tried to avoid detection, nor did carrying a handbag big enough to smuggle a small baby in. Just before she reached the car, Tracy stopped and looked around one more time, just to make sure there weren't any ninjas in wool socks sneaking around, but she was still alone. Tracy knelt next to the driver's side door of the car, peering through the window. She couldn't see any signs of extra alarm systems. If I parked my car right next to all these other ones, I guess I wouldn't be too worried about it being stolen either. Tracy pulled what looked like a slightly oversized phone out of the handbag. When she turned it on, the screen showed a list of car manufacturers. She tapped 'Honda' and the screen changed to ask model and year. The latter one was a bit tricky, but Tracy figured the car couldn't be more than six or seven years old, so she entered 'Accord' and '2026'. The screen went blank except for a progress bar. Tracy checked her watch: One minute and five seconds. While the device continued working, she pulled a small metal box out of her bag and opened it. She had to struggle a little to get the magnetic, coin-sized disk loose from the inside lid. It attached to the underside of the car with a quiet metallic click. OK, that should let me track the car. Tracy checked the watch again. Ninety seconds. The door unlocked with a thunk as her gadget found the right frequency. She gritted her teeth and opened the door, ready for a secondary alarm, but there was only silence. Quickly peeling a small, dark grey plastic bead off a strip of tape in the metal box, Tracy stuck it halfway up the seat back where it would easily transfer to the driver's back. ...And that should bug him too. Tracy closed the door and locked it before putting everything back in her bag. She hurried back to her car and made sure the camera saw her as she came around the back of it, looking like she was searching for something in her bag. Pulling out a chapstick, she used the rear window of the van as a mirror before heading for the elevator. Tracy resisted the urge to smile and wave to the camera. That would be overdoing it. Just over half an hour later, Tracy returned to the parking garage. The visit to the party planner hadn't resulted in anything other than a few vague assurances about getting back to them about what, if anything, the bosses in her company decided on. Of course, there was no boss, so there wouldn't be any further contact. The whole thing had just been a pretext for her to gain access to the parking garage where Mr.Devereux parked his car. Although some of the party ideas had sounded like a lot of fun. Tracy drove out of the parking garage, giving Daryl the security guard a little wave before turning right and joining the traffic on the street. She didn't drive far however. She circled halfway around the block and pulled into an alley. Then she got out of the car and stood in the open side door to attach a couple of small antennas to the roof. Back inside the car, Tracy turned the air conditioning up, hoping the air filters would eliminate the stench of sun-cooked garbage coming from the outside, and turned on her GPS. The screen zoomed in to show a map with her car in the middle and a blinking purple dot to her south-west. "Okay Dennis. Your move," Tracy said. She dug out her tablet and sat back to read a book. She scrolled through the list of books she was in the middle of before settling on 'The Third Man' It was almost an hour later and the Soviets had just tried to abduct Anna when a soft beeping from the GPS made Tracy look up. Dennis was on the move. The purple dot moved onto the street and turned left. Tracy started the car and followed, staying so far back that there was no chance he'd spot her. She lost the signal when he entered a tunnel, but there weren't a lot of places he could go there so he showed up just where she expected when he came back out again. "Where are you going Dennis? That isn't the way home." Tracy looked at the map and suddenly realised where she was headed. "Nononononono. Keep going, keep going," she urged the little purple dot. But it turned left into a parking lot and stopped. The purple dot turned into a stationary blue dot and a moving red one as Dennis got out of the car and walked into the building next to the lot and vanished. Tracy swore. Of course he had to come here. She glared up at the five-storey building as she parked at the opposite end of the lot. Hotel Linwood was a the digital equivalent of a no-tell motel. If you wanted to do something shady online, that was the place. Each room electromagnetically shielded and the internet connection was run through so many proxy servers around the world that it was practically impossible to trace your location. And adding military-grade encryption on top of this made places like the Linwood a nightmare for people like Tracy. As long as he was in there, there was just no way she was going to be able to trace Dennis' computer. "Right. Time to get creative."

Chapter 4: ---------- That monday I went by Cynthia's for actual homework. She needed help with maths and I needed some notes on geography, because the teacher of that class had us take personal notes, and as distracted as I had been, I hadn't done a very good job of that. "You've been hanging out with my daughter a lot lately," Cynthia's mom told me as she opened the door. "Yes, well, finals coming up and such," I replied in my defense. Would you tell your boyfriend's or girlfriend's parents what kind of kinky things you do with their child? It's not exactly a conversation either party wants to have. Nevertheless, her mom gave me a look that seemed to say that was a valid excuse. "You know where she is." I knocked on Cynthia's door before stepping into her room, not seeing her at her desk. "Cyn?" She closed the door behind me as soon as I was far enough into the room. "Hands on my bed, ass out." Almost without thinking I did as I was told. It didn't even occur to me that this was a punishment position, and even if I had realized, I am pretty sure I would still have done the same. I'd accepted that I was hers, so I did as she told me to do and if she was unhappy I would try to do better. When I was in position, she flipped my skirt up but left my underwear in place. A good thwack followed quickly. I wasn't ready for it, so my knees shook even as I tried to make them not do so. "You've been a naughty girl," Cynthia clarified, waiting for me to regain my composure. I was confused, naturally, because I hadn't been under the impression I had done anything wrong. Nevertheless I apologized, quietly, embarrassed. Another good thwack from her paddle shook my bottom. "Good, because I don't have enough time to properly punish you today." "What did I do wrong?" I had to ask. Many would not want to risk more punishment, but that was not my concern. I did not want to disappoint Cynthia again, and being punished for the same mistake again later would be far more embarrassing. "What did I tell you on friday?" Cynthia asked, in that way a mother would when she knew her daughter should know better. "I..." I hesitated, "I should be in diapers?" "Close," Cynthia offered, though there was still a hint of disappointment in her voice. I tried to go over the words in my memory, as far as I could conjure them up. "I need permission to use them?" I threw up in the air. "But I didn't use any diapers?" "Good girl," Cynthia said in conjunction with another thwack on my bottom. "However, my precise words were: 'your bladder is mine' and 'you need permission to go to the bathroom even if you're not in diapers'. And yet I've heard no pleas to go to the bathroom for the past three days." That hadn't really sunk in and quite frankly it seemed crazy. "But, I can't just wet my pants anywhere..." I pleaded. "Well, then you had best convince me to let you go to the bathroom in those situations," Cynthia whispered in my ear. Then another smack of the paddle. "But I'll give you this: if I don't give you a reply within ten minutes, you're allowed to go. To avoid unfortunate accidents." Another thwack and then I heard her put down the paddle. To be honest, I became quite turned on though that. Someone taking such tight control of me was a form of intimacy that many people simply don't experience. I had already surrendered, so I didn't need to again. I simply accepted that from then on, I needed to ask permission to go to the bathroom. "One more thing," Cynthia said, sitting down on her bed next to where I was still bent over it. Looking in my eyes, she continued: "Will you go to the graduation dance with me?" Now, you have to understand, I hadn't even considered that I was in a lesbian relationship until that moment. I liked Cynthia for her dominating personality and for her ability to take charge of me, and the fact that she was a girl was just a happy coincidence. However, actually going out with her, actually being seen with her would change a lot of things. Of course, a lot of things would be changing anyway, come graduation. There was too much chaos in my mind to give her an answer, so instead I asked: "will I need to wear diapers?" It took a good three seconds for Cynthia to register what I had said. "Tempting," she giggled, "but probably not. I do want to be able to dance with you." I gave her an immediate yes, after that. She sounded so genuine that I couldn't help but feel like she loved me. And like I said, I just couldn't disappoint her. Whether that was through kinkiness or through dancing didn't really matter. Any hesitation I had regarding what to tell my parents or my friends could not compete with how much I wanted to please her. She kissed me. Not lustfully, not passionately, not forcefully. Instead she was soft, tender, and graceful. For a second, I thought I even saw her eyes water, but that was gone in the blink of an eye. It was a long kiss but eventually she opted out. "You should stop showing off your pretty bottom so we can actually get some homework done." "It's not fair you got to see mine but I didn't get to see yours," I retorted playfully. "Tell you what, after we finish our homework, I'll let you bury your face in mine." I'm pretty sure my face turned a suitable hue of firered, while my sex was aching to show its pink inner bits. None of that helped us getting our tasks done but we managed anyway. And after? Well, I kissed Cynthia's ass a few times and then we made out. That night was wonderful, but the coming days and weeks turned more and more into a single busy haze. Study sessions to prepare for finals, make out sessions to unwind, followed by sleep and school and more sessions of both kinds. One night Cynthia asked: "when do you want to tell our parents, before or after graduation?" I honestly didn't know. I had no way to know what the better choice would be. If we told them first and they freaked, it might ruin the whole dance, but if we were nervous about telling our parents later we wouldn't really enjoy the dance either. "You know what, we need to tell them before," Cynthia decided, "I'll take care of our dresses and when we show them to our parents, we'll just tell them. Ok?" I nodded. There didn't seem to be another choice. I wasn't sure about the whole thing, but I didn't really have any ideas and Cynthia was, and still is, someone I was willing to depend on. Telling your parents you're a lesbian is weird and awkward, and only becomes more awkward when in hindsight it turns out not to be true. During finals I saw very little of Cynthia, let alone spend quality time with her.

Chapter 3: ---------- That next friday, I was so excited I didn't know what to say all the way back to her house. I had arranged everything with my parents and I'd already dropped off the necessary supplies at her house that morning. I was just fidgeting with my own fingers while we walked, until Cynthia had finally had enough and thrust her can of coke into my hands. "Just, drink that and keep still. You're making me nervous." I was rather glad for the distraction because my stomach was filled with butterflies. I was not turned on, not yet, but anticipation ran through my entire body nevertheless. I sipped my drink to keep from fidgeting. And then I did it again because I didn't know what to say or how to look at Cynthia. And then again to distract myself from the awkward silence. By the time we reached Cynthia's house, the can was empty and so I threw it in her garbage bin and then we went in to greet her mother, who was making dinner in the kitchen. We didn't stick around long. I had been speechless ever since school was out, but still that urgency felt awkward and a bit naughty, like we were doing something we weren't supposed to be doing. Well, according to most people, a teenage girl certainly should not literally be kissing another girl's ass, but like the start of any other evening between the two of us, that was exactly what we were doing. She didn't hesitate a second to kiss me on the mouth that had just seconds before kissed her ass. She was naked from the waist down, but still she was in charge, pushing me on her bed and crawling on top of me to continue the make-out session. I could explain all the ways she tried to kiss me, but you can imagine it far better than I can explain it. In the end, it turned out we had made out for a good forty minutes, and then Cynthia said: "Well, Ensie dear, time to see to our homework, because I'm not sure we're going to have any more time for that this weekend." I was bit confused by that, because I thought we were just having a sleepover, as in one night, I had not planned on a whole weekend, nor had I told my parents. But I didn't want to go against her either. I was so childishly in love that I wanted to give her everything she wanted. I figured I could see what the next day would bring and not ruin that night. Or at least that's the excuse I told myself. And you would not expect it, but for two girls into kissing each other, we did not much get distracted during homework time. The times we did get distracted, Cynthia spanked my bottom thrice and told me to get back to work. Well, she spanked it as well as she could while we were sitting down. Sadly that method does not keep working forever, once it really becomes kinky it's as much a distraction as what distracted you in the first place. We finished our work before dinner, which gave Cyn the time to get dressed again, because she had been sitting bare bottomed on her chair. I was slightly jealous of that fact, and yet not at the same time, because I was slowly developing a serious urge to pee from that coke I had earlier. Before I could ask after the bathroom, Cyn's mom knocked on the door and told us to come eat. So that's what we did. I don't remember what we ate, but I do remember I was again very quiet throughout. Once we were done and heading back up the stairs, I asked Cynthia: "Uhm, where's your bathroom? I need to go." I emphasized the 'need'. Cynthia got a very mischievous smile on her face then. "Where's the bathroom? Ensie darling, shouldn't you ask me first if you're allowed to go to the bathroom?" That didn't register with me at all and so the only thing I could do was look at her dumbfounded. "Or maybe you can beg me." Cynthia added after a time. We were already back in her room, where her control of me seemed slightly stronger than elsewhere and thus where I more easily did what she desired of me, completely comprehending the situation or not. I got on my knees and in a timid voice asked her "may I go to your bathroom, please?" It response she brought her lips to my ear and said a quiet "no". "I want you to get up and wet your pants." Words seemed incapable of escaping my mouth right then, so I just shook my head no. "Sweetie, who is the one in charge here?" Cynthia asked in the calmest, sweetest, most understanding tone that I've ever heard her produce. "You are," I said, my cheeks heating up noticeably. I had already given myself to her, and I wanted to do anything for her, but toilet training goes deeply into a person's sense of self-respect. It's not something you just ignore or turn off. It's one of the first things you learn that make you your own independent person, and for someone to take that away is really asking a lot of you. I'm pretty sure Cynthia was aware of that, and that was exactly why she was so understanding about it. "Then I'm sorry, Ensie sweetie, but that means that you belong to me. All of you. Your body, your control, your shame, your dignity." It took me a long time to actually start wetting myself. At first, only a patch at the front of my jeans turned wet and I had to try to start all over again, but the second time I completely soaked my pants as I concentrated on keeping open my bladder. I didn't even notice how warm, wet, and sticky my pants had become until I was done. "You naughty, naughty girl," Cynthia said with faked outrage, sitting down on her bed at the same time. "Across my lap!" As obedient as I was, I was not prepared for a hard smack on my bottom the second I lay down. I don't know what sound I made, but she shushed me and kept going. I smothered my face in her blankets to keep from crying out. The smacks got more painful until she suddenly stopped and I realised that I could take more. I didn't say that then, though. She sent me to the corner of the room to "think about what I had done" while she took out her laptop and went online. My wet jeans cooled quickly and became uncomfortable to stand in, but I tried to ignore that. Without warning, she came up behind me and started feeling the crotch of my pants. Satisfied about the state of them she asked: "Now that you've been punished, how do you propose we keep this from happening again?" Knowing it was the wrong answer, I said: "by letting me go to the bathroom?" It had the desired effect though, because it brought a smile to Cynthia's face. "No, sweetie, I'm afraid that won't do," she answered as she walked back to her bed and pulled out a box from under it. "I have a more secure solution." I had to turn around to see the diaper she was holding in her hand, though I didn't recognize it at first. When I did, I felt myself swallowing. I couldn't decide in my mind whether a diaper was worse than wetting myself or not. She saw the doubt plain on my face, but it didn't faze her. "You've already given yourself to me, so don't worry about your bladder, I'll put it to good use." Her words spoke truth, I was hers, so I could only let myself be led to her bed. She peeled off my wet jeans, but she simply ignored my wet panties and diapered me right over them. The diapers were a small size brand of adult disposables. I later asked her why she didn't put me in pampers, but she thought they wouldn't fit me despite my diminutive size. Turns out that was a good idea, because larger diapers can hold more and thus don't need to be changed as often. "I'm not going to get new pants, am I?" I asked while she fastened the tapes on the front of the diaper. "No, and there are some rules." I saw that coming, even then. "These are your diapers, but I am in charge of them. That means you don't get to change your own diapers, nor do you get to ask for a change. You also have to ask me permission to go to the bathroom, at all times, whether you're wearing diapers or not. Ok?" What was I going to do? I had already given myself to her, so I could only blush and say "yes". "Good girl." She pulled me to my feet and patted me on my diapered bottom. I blushed some more. The tight padding hugged my behind like a lover caressing my bottom. Not that I really could've made that comparison at the time. Nevertheless, the feeling was such a lovely combination of soft intimacy and shame that it made my sex warm. I didn't miss the chance to kiss her yet again. While we kissed the rest of the cola and the glass of water I drank after dinner made their way through to my bladder, slowly demanding my attention. Once it began knocking on my front door, I had no choice but to stop and tell Cynthia I had to pee. I had no idea if was just supposed to tell her or if I was supposed to beg to be allowed to wet myself. So I just went with option number one. "Cynthia, I have to pee again." She gave me another kiss and then led me to the middle of her bedroom, positioning me toward the bed so she could sit down and watch. "Go," she said, but I couldn't oblige, not right away. Peeing that diaper was even harder than peeing my pants before, and wearing cold, clammy panties underneath did not help. Cynthia began a deep hum that I didn't really notice at the time and that was meant to calm me down. Whether or not it helped, I began peeing after a good ten minutes of trying. The front began turning yellow pretty quickly and Cyn was as intrigued as I was. The panties didn't really get warmer right away, but the mushy, pleasantly warm padding of the diaper pushed on the insides of my thighs and as such added to my feeling of arousal. To this day I still can't help but get turned on from a padded feeling between my legs, whatever the source. Before I was even done, Cynthia was back upon me, cupping my crotch and furiously kissing my neck like her life depended on it. With a heap of reluctance she eventually tore herself away, breathing heavily, whispering: "no, not yet. Take our time for that." I never appreciated how hard that was for her during our relationship, and how much she really wanted to do right by me and by us by doing everything in good time. That evening, we made out like only a teenage couple can, which made sense, because that was exactly what we were. I used my diaper once more while we were doing so, but it neatly held it all. The diaper did grow uncomfortable after a while, and I almost asked for a change, but at the last second, freed from exploring Cynthia's tongue, my mind remembered that I was not supposed to do that. But the pause in our make-out session was enough of a hint for her to check up on my diaper. Well, maybe she didn't do it so much because we had paused, but because she could finally do a diaper check. "Well," she said, "you're not soaked yet, but I do think a new diaper would be in order." She lay me down on the bed gently, opened the diaper and peeled down my soaked panties. Grabbing some wipes from beneath the bed, she began cleaning me front to bottom. She was thorough in her cleaning, but still did her very best not to turn me on further, and she looked downright disappointed for a second as she covered up my intimate area. That was already forgotten by the time she finished taping it up and gave my crotch a squeeze to make sure the diaper was tight. "There, all cleaned up." The used diaper she simply rolled up and threw in her trashcan. I was pretty sure my panties were in there as well, but I did not care. Cynthia brought out her laptop and opened it up, pulling out a DVD of Stardust and putting it on. We fell asleep watching the movie, or at least I did, but when I woke up the next morning, I was still in Cynthia's arms, drooling over her breasts. My diapered bottom was sticking out from under the covers, but from what I could tell, I was still dry. I contemplated getting up, but like any teenager my age I didn't want to give up my position on my girlfriend's chest, so I closed my eyes and enjoyed the cushioned cadence of her lungs. I must've fallen back asleep, because the next I knew, Cynthia was kissing me on the forehead, whispering: "Wake up, sweetie." I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as she slipped out of the bed. It took me a while to actually get up and out of the bed. When I finally did, Cynthia was already back, her clothes that she'd fallen asleep in cast aside and wearing a bathrobe. "On your knees at the foot of the bed. I'll take care of you as soon as I'm all washed up." She didn't take very long. I heard the shower running practically immediately, and she came walking back into her room still drying herself off. She offered me her clean ass and I gladly kissed it, it smelled of peach shampoo. While she was getting dressed, I took the opportunity to ask: "Cynthia? I need to go to the bathroom." "Your diaper still looks dry, I'd like to see it wet," she replied instantly. Clearly she had been waiting for that eventuality. "No, I mean, I have to go to the bathroom." Cynthia caught my meaning immediately, a head half poking out from a top staring back at me. "Oh," she said, hesitant. "Well, technically, that's what a diaper is for as well. But... I can't make you do that." I didn't even hear the last part. I got it into my stupid head that I still had to impress her. That giving her my everything was not enough, that I had to give her my everything willingly and then some. So I started pushing. She didn't say a word, but her eyes didn't leave mine for a second. It took a while. I had to relax and push again, and relax again and then I sort of just let it happen with a little help. "You are an angel sent down just for me," Cynthia said walking over, somehow having managed to put on her top. She kissed me deeply, and then pushed me onto my bottom. If the mess had been mushy stickiness before, it was now mush stickiness all over my bottom. "A stinky angel," she smiled, "but I wouldn't have it any other way." She led me to the corner of her room again. "I'm going to enjoy this view for a while," she smiled, pushing my face to the floor and telling me to put my ass up. That just spread the mess further. Cynthia looked at the alarm clock on her nightstand. "What time do you have to be home, Ensie angel?" She positively beamed at this point, and by extension I was just as content for having made that happen. "Noon," I replied. "Oh good, that gives us plenty of time." I couldn't tell how true that was, because I had not yet seen the time that morning, so I had no idea how long I was going to be in my little predicament. Turns out it was a long time. Not that she pushed it to the extreme, but she definitely took her time to enjoy the pickle I was in. She cleaned me up personally though. She cleaned every inch, showered me, and dried me off, and when I whispered the fold between my legs and bottom still felt moist she apologized and went right back to work on them. Let's just say that morning ended as much with kissing as the nights throughout the previous week did. I couldn't concentrate on schoolwork the rest of that weekend, which was a problem, because finals were looming on the horizon.

Chapter 39: Fire Thief in Service - by LittleFallenPrincess I’ve honed my lockpicking skills over the years, and these locks that restrained me were the easiest locks ever to pick... the problem was I had to do it with one hand, at an angle. Sure, whilst practicing at home, I had managed to pick some easier locks with one hand, but they were large. These padlocks on the cuffs were only small. But still... I only needed to get one undone. With what is most likely a broken arm. I can do it. I hope. Opening my pick pouch, I pulled out the smallest tension wrench I could find and one of the smallest picks I had. Bending my wrist back, the pain from my arm became nearly unbearable as I inserted the tension wrench and positioned in so I could provide tension whilst also getting a pick in. Thankfully, this kind of lock can be easily opened with a rake pick, so I inserted that and moved it about until the lock opened. Taking a second to let my arm rest after all that, I took the tools and used them on my other arm’s restraint. It was a lot easier this time as I could manoeuvre about a lot better and could use both hands to pick it, so it hurt less and took even less time. Once I unlocked both of my legs, I lay back on the ground, trying to catch my breath, but with the smoke starting to reach this floor... I quickly rolled over and climbed to my feet. I didn’t have much time. “Naomi... no wait... umm... yeah, Naomi!” Grabbing my picks and pulling up my nappy, I opened the door to the dungeon and ran out, heading straight into the nursery. I saw Naomi in the crib, flailing about, panicking. “Mimi! I’m here. I’ll get you out!” “Thank god! I heard your girlfriend downstairs!” She said. “You did? OH fuck, soundproofing in the dungeon. Right. I’ll get you out, and then I need you to run downstairs, all the way to the ground floor. Wait for us outside. I’ll go see if she needs help.” I quickly picked the locks, my hands shaking the entire time. I needed to see if Alex was okay. I needed to get out of here. I needed to make sure Naomi was safe. But this fire... the burning smell... my heart was beating faster than ever and I was terrified. “GO! I’ll be down soon!” I yelled as I picked the last lock and she climbed over the crib wall. Naomi grabbed a dressing gown from the back of the door to cover herself, as she was wearing only her top and the nappy she was forced into, and ran downstairs. I quickly followed her down. But as she carried on to the ground floor, I stopped on the third. Looking around, no sign of Alex. Second floor... nothing. First floor was where the smoke was at its thickest. I could feel the heat coming from one of the nearby rooms. Remembering some old fire safety tips from my childhood, I checked the door to the smaller room before opening it. And to my surprise... Christian, Emily and Jack lay there, unconscious. “I... I’m sorry. I have to find Alex. Maybe I can come back and save you!” I said to them, closing the door, hopefully buying them some time if the fire managed to spread into the hallway. Even if I stopped to help them instead of looking for Alex... I’d be lucky to be able to carry Jack out of there, but there’s no way I could lift Emily or Christian. “Other door... must be it... but that’s where the smoke is coming from...” I edged closer to the door. I was terrified of entering... of seeing the fire. Reliving the events where I lost my parents would shut me down, so I tried focusing on Alex. And as I got closer and closer... I could hear a faint voice. “FUCK! I need... I need to... save... Paige... she... needs... m... me...” I heard nearby. ‘Wait...’ A large crash came from the other side of the door. “ALEX?” I yelled. But there was no answer. ‘She’s in there. I’m sure of it... but the door...’ I pushed and pushed, I even pulled my picks out and tried unlocking it, but it felt like it was blocked by something, no doubt whatever made that crashing sound. “Wait! The window!” Running down the hallway, grabbing a rather heavy looking ornament from the table along the way, I headed to the window. “If I unlock this...” Opening the window, I climbed out onto the staircase in the alley. “And then if I use... THIS!” Hurling the ornament at the back window, smashing the one next to the one I climbed out of, I reached in with my arm carefully, trying not to cut myself, and unlocked it. Pulling the window up, I climbed in. Making my way through the burning room, I scanned the floor for both obstacles and any sign of Alex. But the room was full of smoke, so it was hard to see anything. Piles of burning books, artwork set ablaze... I pushed all my memories of the crash to the back of my mind. I couldn’t think about that right now. I needed to find Alex. “I... can’t... see... a thing...” But that’s when I saw something in the distance, past the bookcase that had collapsed. A blue light. “ALEX?” I yelled. Running with all my might, I leapt over the remains of the bookcase and landed on the other side. Just by my feet was Alex’s phone, and next to it... Alex. Instincts told me to check on Alex, but a quick look at the phone changed my priorities as I quickly scooped it up and looked at the options. “Fire... suppression... system... OH! ACTIVATE!” Pressing the button, a heard a beep and suddenly the room filled with gas and the sprinklers activated, drenching the whole room. The flames quickly subsided, but it was getting increasingly more difficult to breathe, so I grabbed Alex’s hand and dragged her to the window I had entered through. We had to take another path around the bookcase, as I couldn’t lift her over it. Managing to reach the window, I gathered all my strength, using all the built-up adrenaline to lift Alex up and out of the window. Quickly following, I climbed out and landed on the staircase next to Alex, taking the fresh winter air into my lungs. But we weren’t out of the woods yet. The fire may be out, but Alex wasn’t responding. So I got up, hovering over her. “ALEX? PLEASE! TALK TO ME! I CAN’T LOSE YOU TOO! ALEX!” I screamed, shaking her violently. I checked her pulse... she was still alive. I checked her breathing... yep, still breathing... Tears ran down my face as I stared at my girlfriend, who just lay there, unresponsive. When all of a sudden, her eyes opened and she shot up. “PAIGE! I NEED TO SAVE...” She shouted, before stopping and looking around. She turned to look at me and coughed heavily. “P... Paige... you... wait... you saved me?” “MUMMY!” I flung my arms around her and gave her the biggest hug I could, kissing all over her face. “Oh baby! I’m so glad you’re okay! What... what about the fire?” She asked. “I put it out. I saw the thing on your phone and activated it.” “Good job...” She coughed a bit more. “Good job babygirl. I’m proud of you. And tha... thank you for saving me.” “Shhh. I’m just glad you’re okay.” I kissed her again. “What about... what about your crew? Are they okay?” “The fire didn’t spread outside of the storage room, they’re still unconscious. Mimi should be safe downstairs.” “How... how did you get out of the restraints?” “Huh?” I was confused. How did she know I was restrained? “I got an alert... at work... saying someone broke in. I watched most of it on the video feed on the drive back. I saw... I saw what that guy did to you baby...” “It’s okay. I’m okay.” “Just wait until I’m done with him... he’ll regret everything...” I wouldn’t want to be in Christian’s place right now, not with the venom in Alex’s voice. “Let’s just go find Mimi, okay? Then we can figure out what to do.” I helped Alex up onto her feet and down the staircase into the back alley. “YOU’RE OKAY!” Mimi ran at me and tackled me with a hug. “I’m... I’m okay. Just... be careful... I may have a bit of a broken arm... but I’m okay.” “A broken arm? We’ll have to get that sorted as soon as possible sweetpea!” Alex said. “And your... and your girlfriend is okay! Thank god!” Mimi took a sigh of relief. “You... I saw you try and stick up for my baby...” Alex stepped up, looking down at Mimi. I blushed at the fact Alex was referring to me as her baby in front of my best friend. “...Thank you.” Alex finished. “She’s my best friend. I’m sorry... I’m sorry for being a part of everything that happened.” Mimi apologised. She was sincere. I could tell when she was lying. “Look, let’s just catch our breath. Once I’ve got my strength back, I’ll decide what to do with you and your friends.” Alex said to Naomi. “What to do...?” “You broke in. Don’t think you’re off the hook just yet...” Naomi went quiet and walked over to the corner of the shop, sitting down and awaiting the judgement. I got a glass of water for us all, and we all took a bit to relax after everything that had happened upstairs. I was surprised Naomi hadn’t made a run for it honestly. She had the perfect opportunity whilst Alex was catching her breath, but she stayed. Once Alex had rested a bit, she stood up and looked at the two of us. “We’ll need to get you a new uniform, babygirl. That one is ruined...” I looked down at the dirty, ripped maid uniform I was wearing and smiled. “So... umm... what now?” I asked. “We get those three upstairs restrained before they wake up. Mind helping?” “Sure.” I answered. “Be careful with that arm though. I’ll call a friend who can give it a look at soon. And you? Mind helping?” She turned to Naomi, who looked surprised that she was asking her. “Umm... sure?” Mimi replied. “Thanks. Let’s go then...” I let Alex take the lead regarding everything from now on. She was the one who nearly died, she was the one whose collection was now ashes in the storage room. Sure, I’d love some payback on Christian and Emily... but that could wait. We sat there in the event room, the three unconscious ex-crew members sat in chairs, their hands and ankles bound to them. I sat next to Naomi, holding her hand. I could tell she was nervous, but she was ready to face the consequences for her actions. And if needed, I could plead to Alex to take it easy on her. It wasn’t her fault she came here, she was forced. And then she helped me and everything... “Wakey wakey...” Alex opened a small bottle under their noses and one by one, my ex-crew mates all came to, shocked and scared. “MMM!” Christian cried out, the gag in his mouth muffling his words. The other two did the same, but they all quickly realised the situation they were in. “So...” Alex paced around the floor between the crew, and Naomi and me. “Mmmm!” Emily screamed, that gag working perfectly, yet again. “I’m going to say a bunch of things, and you’re going to listen, got it?” They all nodded one by one. “So first... you broke into my home. You assaulted my babygirl.” She looked at Christian with a look that could kill. “You tried to steal my possessions... and inadvertently set fire to one of my rooms. Is that everything?” “MMM!” they all tried to beg and plead. “So let me make this clear. You will pay for everything. HOW you pay... is up to me. You have no say in this. I won’t make an offer, like I did with Paige. You take the deal. Otherwise... I will come up with something much... MUCH worse for you.” All three of them shut up. Naomi started shaking, so I held her hand and squeezed it. “Firstly... I understand why you came here today. I know exactly who put you up to it. And I know you were forced to do so. That’s why I’m not just going to send you all off to the other dimension.” All of them started screaming, terrified at the thought of being sent over there. “I also know... if I call the police... your employer will just bail you out and you’ll be in the same position that Paige was in. So I won’t be calling them. You will, however, be paying me back for everything you have done today. That includes you, Naomi.” Naomi gasped a little. “Paying her back? What does she mean?” Mimi asked. “It means... I’ll be having a little word with Tony. So he won’t be chasing after you, or Paige, ever again. But for the next.... let’s say... six months... you will be under my employ.” “Umm... what do you mean?” I asked Alex, on behalf of Naomi. “It means, babygirl, that all four of them... will be paying me back by working for me. I’ll pay you all for the time, and give you accommodation... but you will be doing jobs I assign you.” Alex paced back and forth, thinking, before stopping in front of Jack. “What’s this one’s name again, babygirl?” “Jack.” I answered. Turning to Jack, she looked him dead in the eyes. “Well... Jack. I will say, I was impressed by your hacking ability. You still have a lot to learn... but you have potential. For now though... I need a maid.” “Mmm?” he tried talking, so Alex removed his gag. “A... maid?” “Oh yes. I need a cute little maid... so I’ll get you a maid’s uniform just like Paige’s, and you can take over her shop and cleaning duties, especially as her arm will need time to heal. If at the end of six months you’ve impressed me with following orders... maybe I could find you a job at my security company.” “I... yes. Sorry. Please.” He looked like a scared little boy, it was kind of adorable. “Maybe I’ll find you a cute wig too...” He started blushing as Alex moved over to where Emily stood. “You...” Alex looked down menacingly at her next target. “Emily.” I said. “Emily... I saw you helping the other one torture my babygirl... so I’m sorry, but you don’t get off so easily. However... I do like the way you handle yourself, so if you are also looking for a job after six months... maybe I could be convinced. If you impress me that is...” Taking the gag out of her mouth, Emily looked at her. “Impress?” Emily said. “Well I need to know I can trust you. I heard you were good at driving... so... maybe I can offer you a job doing that. But to impress me, you are to take on the role of Paige’s nanny.” “NANNY?” “No shouting. Yes. I saw the way you made fun of her, especially making comments about not wanting to change her. “I... I...” “You’re strong enough to lift her up, and with the right training... you could be quite the Nanny. “I... okay. I’m sorry.” Emily hung her head in defeat. I looked at my old crew mates. They all look defeated. And Alex... was being reasonable, in my opinion. I understood why she wouldn’t call the police and why she had to come up with such... unusual punishments. I felt a bit... uneasy with Emily being my Nanny, but no doubt Alex would be keeping a close eye on her. I just hoped she would pick something nicer for Naomi... and I wondered what she had in store for Christian, who deserved much worse. Offering them humiliating jobs, followed by actual jobs, was a clever idea, but I wondered how much she had thought about how much she can trust those three whilst they’re ‘employed’ by her. She had great faith in people, but I wasn’t sure they wouldn’t just run at the first opportunity or try to steal from her or get her back for everything. But hey, I trusted her to know what she was doing, so I just stood there and held my best friend’s hand, awaiting the next judgement. “And you...” “Christian...” I said with venom in my voice. “I know exactly what you did to my babygirl... whipping her, making her bleed like that...” “What? What the fuck, Christian?” yelled Emily. Even she was disgusted by her friend’s actions. Jack’s face indicated he was too. “Mmm!” he tried to talk just like the others. Taking the gag out, Alex allowed him to speak. “FUCK YOU!” He yelled. “Not sorry at all, are you? At least your friends showed remorse for their actions. Now... what to do with you...” “GET FUC...” he was quickly silenced again as Alex shoved the gag back in his mouth, tying it behind his head. “That’s quite enough language from you...” Alex thought for a moment, before walking over to me. “Baby... I want your opinion. I have an idea, but I want you to tell me if it’s too much. And if it is, do you have any other ideas? I can’t trust him. The other two... I could see the good in them. Him... there isn’t any.” “W... what’s your idea?” I asked. “I know I said I wouldn’t... but I honestly don’t know where else I could send him.” “No... you mean...?” “Yeah. I have a contact. He could take him through the portal, find him a family.” “But... that’s horrible!” “Can you think of anything else I can do with him then, babygirl?” Naomi nudged me a bit. “Umm... I mean... it would be poetic justice... after all those times he threatened to send you there... after every mean thing he’s said...” I couldn’t believe Mimi was actually okay with this. Of all people, she was least likely to do so. “You too? You agree with Alex?” “Think about it, Paige. He’s a selfish, obnoxious dickhead who would have happily have done all this today, even without the threat from Tony.” “I... but...” “Baby, if it makes it any better... I can make sure he’s given to a loving family who won’t treat him bad.” Alex offered. “But...” “Okay, how about... I let them foster him for just the year? No permanent changes, no hypnosis, nothing like that. They just keep him as their baby for a year, before sending him back through the portal. If he’s learnt his lesson when he comes back, I’ll give him a job like I did the others. If not... we’ll figure it out when that happens.” “That’s better. Not perfect... but I suppose it’s the best we can manage without the ability to send him to prison. Fine. Do that then.” I answered. Alex turned around to Christian, who had been trying to listen in the whole time, but hadn’t heard a thing. “So Christian, I apologise...” Alex started. He looked up at her, confused. “I lied earlier. You... you can’t be trusted around me, around my babygirl, around... well anyone really. So I’m sorry, but I’m going to send you through the portal.” Christian looked terrified. He tried freeing himself, but he was restrained and couldn’t do anything more than struggle. “But you’ve got Paige to thank for making it as easy for you as possible. You’ll be sent through the portal, where an Amazon family will foster you for a year. No drugs, no physical or mental changes, nothing. It’ll be a nice, loving family. But you’ll be their baby for the year. If, when you return, you’ve learnt your lesson... I’ll offer you a well-paying job. If you haven’t... well we’ll figure that out if it comes to it.” “MMMM!” Christian screamed into the gag. “Think that’s fair?” Alex asked Jack and Emily. “Uh huh.” They said in tandem, grinning at their former leader. “Good. You’ve got off easy, Christian. I could have had you thrown in one of their adoption centres and forgotten about you... but I like to see the good in people. And I believe deep down, even if it’s only a shred of good... that’s enough. Remember, Paige is the one who saved you. All those times you threatened to send her there... remember that. Remember who took it easy on you as you get your nappy changed by your new Mummy and Daddy...” He started yelling again, so Alex pulled out syringe and injected him with the same thing she injected me with that first night I broke in. “Now. I need to make a few calls for him... oh wait.. I nearly forgot...” Alex turned to me and Naomi and grinned. Naomi started shaking more, so I squeezed her hand even harder. “Naomi... or is it Mimi?” Alex asked. “Umm... either...” Mimi said, nervously. “Please take it easy on her, Alex...” I spoke up. “You trust me, sweetpea?” She asked me. “Of course.” “Good. Now... Naomi...” Naomi looked at her feet, awaiting the judgement. “You broke in. You helped try to steal my possessions. But I also understand you were threatened to do so. You also came to Paige’s aid, and you’re also Paige’s best friend...” Naomi squeezed my hand. “So I have three jobs for you to pay me back.” “Huh? Three?” Mimi looked up suddenly, confused. “I’m to understand you helped pick out some of Paige’s better outfits?” “Umm... uh huh...” “Then your first job, is to be my shopping expert. You have good taste and an eye for what Paige looks good in. So I want you to assist me whenever I’m looking to expand Paige’s wardrobe.” “Umm... okay... but... what are the other two jobs.” “Those jobs... are more for my babygirl than for me.” Even I looked confused at this point. “Depending on what she needs, you are to play as either her playmate... or her dolly...” My face must have turned bright red at the thought of Naomi playing either of those roles. But I also felt bad, because that was involving her in kinks she’s not into. I mean sure, Jack is having to wear a maid uniform and be dressed up all feminine, and Emily is forced to be a Nanny, albeit to a larger than normal baby... but this is Naomi... “Yes!” Mimi blurted out, sounding rather excited. ‘She... she said that rather quickly...’ “I’d love to!” Naomi looked at me, a huge smile on her face; I had never seen her look so excited. “Well that settles that then...” Alex smiled at me. “I... umm... okay!” I replied. “So anyway, let me go call my contact for Christian and call my doctor friend about that arm of yours... Paige? Will you please release the other two? I’ll sort their uniforms out as soon as I’m done with Christian.” Alex turned to the Emily and Jack. “You two...? Don’t let me down. If you betray my trust, let me down in any way, or try to run... I’ll make sure you find yourselves with a fate similar to your ex-leader’s...” They both nodded in agreement. “Yes Miss Carver.” They said in unison. “Well these next six months are going to be a lot more interesting... A nanny, a maid, a playmate and dolly...” I said, looking around at my friends. “Mummy?” I called out to Alex, not caring at this point about hiding that dynamic in front of my friends. They were part of it now, even if it wasn’t their choice. I would have preferred to have given them the choice, but there wasn’t any other option. “Yes, pumpkin?” Alex replied. “We’re going to have to find a new job for me if Jack’s working downstairs.” “Don’t worry sweetie, I’ve got the perfect one for you...” She grinned. ========================================================== I hope this stops all the cement plans? And you are all back to loving me again instead of hating me? Ah who am I kidding, you'll all hate me again with my future cliffhangers. At least I can relax for now! So Thief in Service finished on my Patreon. First chapter of Book 5 is out now on there too (it'll be posted here in two weeks time). Also, quick word of advice: If you haven't read all 4 of my books by the time Book 5 releases... I'd advise to do so. You need to have read all four before starting the fifth. Otherwise you won't understand a lot of what's going on. I hope everyone enjoys this story as it goes on! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the whole of Thief in Service is available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You also get two weeks early access to my fifth book, currently being posted there twice weekly. New chapters of Thief in Service every Monday/Wednesday/Friday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks! ?

Chapter 32: Pushed Limits Thief in Service - by LittleFallenPrincess First we walked up to the pups, who were playing with each other, rolling about and generally being happy little puppies. One was a boy, one was a girl. Their owners, both of whom were men, sat behind them with leashes in their hands, talking to each other. “Alexandria! Good to see you! And with a sub too! I’m proud of you!” one said. “So... what is she? Pup? Little? Masochist? Rope Bunny?” the other asked. “She’s... a bit of everything actually. Earlier this week in fact, she was my tiny little baby. Now she’s my little latex dolly. We still have to try pet play and I also really want to dress her up as a proper dolly... makeup, dress and all...” Alex smiled at me. I blushed as she spoke about me with such... love. “She’s a cutie. I still can’t believe you found someone. I’m happy you did though, you deserve it.” The boy pup broke character and spoke up. Looking closer... I realised it was John! “Well, if you want a refresher on pet play, I’d be happy to help. And so would you, wouldn’t you, Lucy?” One of the owners looked down to the girl pup. ‘Lucy? Oh that’s the person who owns the collar in the pet play room!’ I thought to myself, looking down at the brunette woman with a pup mask on. “Arff!” she barked, happily wiggling her backside. I nuzzled my face into Alex’s arm, blushing from the conversation that was going on. It was all still a lot for me to process, but it was getting easier. “Well we have lots more people to greet, but it was nice seeing you again. I’ll talk to you later, okay? Come along Paige...” Alex instructed. I followed behind her once more as we walked over to the littles in the corner of the room. Alex’s face lit up at the sight of the littles playing in the playpen. “Oh look at you lot! I could just eat you all up!” She said as she bent over the playpen walls, looking down at its occupants. The littles all squealed and giggled, playing along with Alex, whose voice had taken on that tone that adults use when around kids. “Hi Miss Alex!” One of the boy littles said, waving his hand excitedly at her. “Hi David! Hi all of you! I’m glad you could all make it again!” Alex smiled. “It’s been super hard waiting the past few weeks, but it’s worth it!” Another little said. “I bet! It’s okay though, now you can just be yourself. I’m sorry that the nursery is out of bounds, a certain little girl stole my heart and I just had to give her the nursery. But don’t worry, it’s just temporary. I’m going to build a new nursery just for her, and then you can have your old one back, okay?” “She doesn’t look like a little!” one cried out. “Because right now, she’s my little grown up dolly. But I assure you, she’s just as good as all of you at filling her pampers!” She patted my padded, latex-covered butt. All the littles started giggling and pointing their fingers at me, causing me to blush more than ever. But a part of me loved this. This attention, this acceptance... this... humiliation. “Now, Miss Alex has to go see the meaniepants over there... you know the ones, the ones who love to give nasty spankings. Promise me you’ll all be good?” The way Alex spoke in third person, with that voice... I could feel an urge rising... an urge to be little. “Uh huh!” They all said in unison. One spoke up before we could turn around to leave, “Miss Alex? When will Paige be ickle like us and play wif us?” “I don’t know, little one. Maybe later? Maybe next time. But don’t worry, you’ll be able to play with her soon enough.” As she stood back up, Alex turned to me and smiled. “You okay sweetpea? This not too much for you? Just say if it does...” she whispered to me. “I’m okay, Miss.” I whispered back, smiling back at her. “Good girl.” Those two words made me knees feel weak. Those two words had untold power over me... “Now, let’s go find Rachel, shall we?” “Alex! Paige!” We turned around to see Rachel, dressed in something very different to the smart clothes she wore at the cafe. She wore something very reminiscent of the outfits I had seen online regarding BDSM. Domme’s in particular. “Buh...” My mind was still trying to figure out why she was dressed like a domme. “It’s good to see you, Rachel. What’s up, Paige?” Alex turned to me. “I... she called you Miss...” I pointed at Rachel then at Alex. “Rachel is a bit of a switch. She loves to be dominant... but around me she gets really subby. It’s adorable really.” “Oh! Well that makes more sense!” I laughed a bit. “Don’t think I’ll get subby around you, Princess...” Rachel lifted my chin up with her hand and looked me in the eye. “Your girlfriend may be able to put me in my place, but with her permission, I can easily put you in yours...” If I wasn’t frozen in fear, I would’ve melted on the spot at the way she talked down to me... ...and I say fear... I mean fear mixed with a bit of arousal. Fear arousal.... Fearousal... “Maybe later, Rachel. For now, let’s just let little Paige here off with a warning...” Alex laughed. As both the women looked at me, I felt like they were the predators... and I was the prey. Rachel winked at me, making my insides feel all fluttery. “Be careful with Rachel here, she learned from the best...” Rachel pointed at Alex and nodded her head, indicating that it was Alex who taught her. “Or maybe I’ll get you both cleaning my boots with your tongues by the end of the night...” Alex grinned. And in an instant, Rachel went from big bad domme to having the exact same expression as me... a bright red face full of embarrassment. “Yes... Miss...” she replied. “That’s better. Now, how are things going over here?” Alex asked. “As usual, Miss. James earned himself a spanking again.” “Every time... Always within the first twenty minutes too...” Alex sighed. Whilst I loved this casual little interaction between kinky people... I felt a bit left out. “Maybe I’ll bring Paige over here later, she’ll no doubt need one herself. Maybe if you’re a good girl, Rachel... I’ll let you be the one to do it.” Alex tapped my padded butt again. My face must have turned even redder as Rachel’s grin grew three sizes and she started jumping up and down, squealing with excitement. “Yes Miss! I’ll be good! And don’t worry, Paige... I give really good spankings. Don’t I, James?” She spun around smacked the guy tied to the spanking bench across his arse with the paddle she had in her hand. “YES MISS RACHEL!” he screamed. I giggled a bit, but as soon as Rachel turned back around and noticed me giggling, I shut up instantly as her eyes focused on me. I tippy-toed behind Alex and used her to block Rachel’s gaze. “I think I better start her off with a basic spanking, maybe if she’s ready later I’ll let you spank her.” Alex stroked my hair as she talked to Rachel. “Good idea, Miss Alex. She’s still new. I know how nervous I was the first time I came here. Maybe you should tie her up a bit first?” “Maybe. But we did that to her last time, I’m thinking of having a nice sit down with her at my feet. If she can handle that... then we’ll move on to the next thing.” “Well have fun, both of you!” Rachel said, waving at me. I waved back, nervously, and followed Alex over to the seating area where I had watched her spend most of her time at the last party. Sitting down, she indicated for me to get closer to her with her finger. And being the good girl that I am... I did exactly that. “Good girl. Now sit at my feet.” She ordered. Getting down onto my knees, I stayed by her feet. Not moving a muscle, not even making a sound. “You really are a good little dolly... maybe next time I don’t make you my submissive dolly... maybe I dress you up in a nice frilly dress, rosy red cheeks, over the top doll makeup... You could be my little toy dolly to dress up and play with...” I squirmed a bit, her talking about all this turned me on more than ever and the only reason I wasn’t humping her leg right now was that she had instructed me to stay still. And I wasn’t going to fail my task, not at our first event together. “I can see how much you enjoy this...” She commented. I blushed and looked down, staying silent. “Permission to speak, sweetie... am I right then?” “Y... Yes Miss. Very much so.” I answered. “Good girl. Now back to silence. For now, you’re just going to sit there whilst I have a drink and stroke your hair... I do love your hair by the way, I may not have told you, but I love the aesthetic. Always had a thing for side cuts.” I nuzzled towards her a tiny bit. Waving over one of the subs walking around, she ordered the girl to get a drink for her. I was expecting something like a glass of wine or something... but then I remembered her telling me earlier to lock away all the alcohol. But to my surprise, the sub, wearing nothing but a harness, showing off nearly every inch of skin... walked back over with a glass of wine. “Oh and please get my little dolly a drink too, please?” “Yes Miss.” The girl said, walking off again. “It’s non-alcoholic, sweetpea. No alcohol during play, those are the rules.” Alex whispered down to me. ‘That makes sense. Some of these things people are doing are dangerous enough without alcohol.' “She’s taking a while... Paige, can you go find out where she is? Get your drink and come back, okay?” “Yes Miss.” Alex helped me up and I wandered off in search of the girl who was supposed to get me a drink. I mean... I wasn’t fussed. I didn’t care if she returned or not, it’s just that Alex did, and I didn’t want to disappoint her. Normally I would have shrugged it off, figuring that the girl forgot or whatever, and got myself something, but Alex asked me to do something about it. Wandering about, I eventually found the drinks table in a corner we had somehow missed during out little walk around. “I can’t believe that little whore got to be her sub.” I heard a familiar voice coming from around the corner. “I know! I bet she’s just in it for the money. I bet she’s not even kinky. She just wants all that money from Alex. She must get spoilt rotten.” There was another familiar voice. I crept closer to the corner, trying to get a peek at who was talking shit about me and Alex. ‘Some friends of hers... wait... aren’t those voices the ones I heard at the last party? The ones slagging her off...’ “She’s not even that cute. I don’t know what she sees in her. She would have been better off with one of us at least!” “I agree, but hey, I’ve got a plan that should really make things fun tonight...” And just as I peeked my head around the corner, the girl from before walked into me. “Oh, sorry dear! I was just getting you your drink!” she said. Her voice was one of the ones I just heard talking about us. But as I looked at her, all she did was smile. “Here you go, some juice for you. You need to stay hydrated!” she handed me a water bottle full of juice and walked off quickly. Walking back, I took a quick swig of the drink and put the bottle lid back on. “There you are! I wondered where you were!” Alex said, waving me over. “Sit down. On the chair. I want to know what you want to do tonight.” I sat down on the seat opposite, the latex making for a very... unusual... but enjoyable feeling. “So, I know I’m your domme, but this is your first event and we’re still getting you into everything. So you’re allowed to decide what we do tonight. And don’t worry, you can speak freely right now, although that may change, depending on what you want to do.” She winked at me. I took another sip of the drink and looked around. I loved the idea of being at her feet more... maybe as a pet this time... My stomach started gurgling a bit. But I also loved the idea of getting spanked... even by Rachel. I felt a twinge in my gut. Maybe I could be tied up...? I did enjoy that the last time I got tied up in front of everyone... The twinge turned to pain. “Whats up sweetpea?” Alex asked, she must have sensed something was up. “I... I don’t know... my tummy... it... hurts...” “Oh no! Umm... do you need to go...?” Before she could finish that sentence, I released gas, causing an audible rip in the air. “I... I can’t... ahhhhh!” I fell to the floor, landing on my knees. And before I could do anything, before Alex could help me get this outfit off... I filled the back of my nappy, causing it to squish against the tight latex covering it, which just meant it was spreading all over my backside. The whole room came to a standstill. The noise must have been heard by everyone. And I knelt there, mortified. I had wet nappies, sure... but I had never messed them. Alex had made it clear that we’d slowly work our way up to doing that... but here I was, messy and on the verge of tears. As Alex looked down at me, I looked around, seeing everyone watching me. And I did what any baby would do when they just messed... ...I cried. ========================================================== I hope everyone enjoys this story as it goes on! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next 4 chapters are available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You get 4 chapters early access to chapters of Thief in Service. New chapters of Thief in Service every Monday/Wednesday/Friday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks! ?

Chapter 31: The Event Thief in Service - by LittleFallenPrincess Once we had finished lunch and shopping and all that, we headed back. I am ashamed to say it, but what Rachel said earlier didn’t click until we were back home, snuggled up again. “Alex...?” I asked her, my head lay on her lap, looking up at her. “Yes, babygirl?” “I...” “What is it, sweetpea?” “Rachel said... event? Next week?” “Did I not mention it? Oh I am sorry baby! I meant to... just with everything going on...” “It’s okay... what kind of event... is it like the one last time?” I asked, nervously. “Yes sweetpea, although this is just a kink event, not a birthday party or Halloween party. So entirely like the second half of your evening.” “So...” “So what, my love?” I loved how soft she was with me now, it was like she was an entirely different person... but still her. Like I had progressed enough with her loyalty quests to unlock the next stage of our relationship. But watching her with Rachel at the cafe, I knew, at any moment, she could be the big bad domme I fell for at the beginning. ...Which just excited me more. “So... what... umm... am I invited?” I asked. “Of course sweetie. I was going to ask you, before I completely forgot about it all that is. If you didn’t want to come, that’s okay too. Do you?” “I... umm... would I have to be a statue in the middle of the room again?” Whilst I enjoyed that role last time... seeing the hurt on Alex’s face, the jealously I felt seeing other subs get to play with her... I wanted to do more this time. “Only if you want to, sweetpea. But I’ll decide what role you’ll take closer to the event, don’t you worry...” She grinned at me. ------------------------------------------------- The next week flew by. Our relationship blossomed and flourished now that neither of us had to hide our feelings... our pasts. I can’t think of a moment where we spent more than thirty minutes apart. We slept together (though we still hadn’t had sex yet), we showered together, we ate together, we snuggled up and watched movies together. To be completely honest... I don’t know why I even have that apartment in the building, I never used it this past week and if things keep going as well as they have been... I doubt I’ll need it at all soon. But the whole week, I was in heaven. Never had I felt this strongly for another person before. I hated the clichés of not being complete without a partner... but with her... it felt real. Like I genuinely was complete. Towards the end of the week, however, Alex’s domme side started returning. Telling me to lie across the bottom of the bed instead of with her... Ordering me around... choosing my outfits... making me wear the maid dress for more than just work... She was definitely preparing herself for the event. Not that I’m complaining, I loved it every time she ordered me about. I loved being little for her, but I also equally loved being her submissive. So both sides of me got satisfied leading up to the event. And on the day of the event, I saw the latex outfit I had been put in for her last event hung up in my wardrobe, whereas usually it was stored away. “Umm...” “What is it, my love?” Alex asked. “The latex doll...” “Oh I see you spotted it. That’s to be your outfit for the event tonight...” I squirmed a little on the spot. Every inch of me wanted to pounce on her like a ravenous lioness in heat... but I kept it together and let out a small moan instead. “I... so am... umm...” “Don’t worry, you’re not going to be put up for display again. You’re going to be by my side the whole time. I want to show you off as mine, as much as possible...” She gave me a lustful look, making me squirm even more. I also blushed a little. No one had ever been this proud of me... this proud of having me in their life that they wanted to show me off. I’ve dated people before, but I was never ‘Meet the parents’ material. I was the dirty little secret they liked to fuck in private. Alex though... she was going to dress me up and show me off to all of those who she trusted most. Well those, and also those ungrateful little shits who bad mouthed her at the last event. Shame I didn’t get to see their faces, I would have told Alex about them. If I told her now... she’d just be distrustful of everyone and I’d ruin everything, so I kept that to myself. ------------------------------------------------- It was time. I had helped Alex set up the play space in the huge room on the second floor. I had helped her with her beautiful floor-length blue dress. She had assisted me in putting the latex suit on. And I had forgotten how good it felt. Hugging every inch of skin, every curve... I had to stop myself on multiple occasions, when the need to beg Alex to fuck me got too much. Because I knew the response if I did. She’d deny me... she’d tease me more and make me a mess throughout the whole party. And whilst sure, a large part of me loved the idea of that... this was my first kink event that I was willingly participating in. I didn’t want to mess anything up or make Alex look bad in front of her guests. So I restrained myself and reminded myself that she’d probably take care of me after the event... or during if I’m lucky. What I wasn’t expecting, however... was the nappy she had put me in right before putting the latex suit on me. I whined and complained about not needing it, but she told me it was going to be a long event and she didn’t want to have to take this off me. So the nappy was put on and I stopped complaining. I did ask what to do in the case of needing... you know... that thing we hadn’t done yet. The thing I had seen people online enjoy... the thing that isn’t wetting... All she said was that if that was needed, then I can safe word and she’d take me to a bathroom. That she’d only do that kind of thing when I’m ready. So here I am, stood on the shop floor at the entrance, ready to greet guests as they entered, wearing a relatively thin nappy under this latex suit that covered every inch of skin from my neck to my feet, leaving only my head uncovered. My hair had been washed and brushed by Alex, so it looked perfect. The blinds were down, meaning no one could see inside thankfully, but even so... my heart was racing. Why was I so anxious? I had done this before. Just because this time I’m here as Alex’s girlfriend and submissive shouldn’t mean I’m even more anxious than the last time I was here. But still... somehow... I was. And as we heard the first knock on the door... Alex held my head and kissed my cheek. “It’ll be okay, my little dolly. I’ll be here the entire time, okay?” I smiled and nodded, a warmth filling my heart, knowing she would protect me, no matter what happens. The first guests were invited in, a lovely young couple. I forgot their names within a second of Alex introducing us, I was still too embarrassed to be stood there as a latex doll, but they seemed friendly at least. For the next twenty minutes, guests poured through the front door, and as each one was introduced to me, I was still too nervous to remember their names or their faces. The only ones I did recognise were John and Rachel. They both gave me a hug, which made me feel a bit more at ease. I suppose it didn’t help that I was currently the only one wearing anything remotely kinky, although I did notice a few discreet collars on a few of the men and women who walked in. “They’ll change upstairs sweetpea. They can’t exactly go around wearing their event outfits outside, can they?” “Hey, I did! You made me walk home in a maid uniform AND then in this latex suit!” “Yes... but that was cute.” She grinned at me. I pouted at Alex as she locked up the front door and spun me around to face the stairs. “Let’s go get this party started shall we...?” She said, pushing me gently forwards. ------------------------------------------------- Alex had given people time to get changed into their not-so-suitable-for-public outfits before we entered. And so when we both walked in, her pushing me from behind slowly... I was greeted by a sight I never thought I’d see. “Good evening Ladies, Gentlemen and all of those who do not fit within the binary. It’s been a few weeks since our last event, and my, what an event that was! I’m glad to see a host of familiar faces, as well as some new ones that came highly recommended by some of my dear friends. Now, the rules are simple. Have fun, consensual fun, no hard limits broken, no means no. No messing, no blood, all those usual ones. Please clean up after yourselves and make sure to wipe every surface after you’re done. If you’d like to use a room upstairs, please ask permission from myself, although I hate to inform the few littles here, the nursery is off limits.” I looked up at her, confused. Bending over, she whispered in my ear. “Because that’s your nursery now, sweetpea...” I blushed, completely frozen in front of this large group of thirty or so guests, all dressed in various kinky outfits. Some people were obviously littles, their nappies and youthful attire making it clear they were ageplayers. Some pups sat patiently, some subs sat by their master’s feet. One other person was wearing latex, which made me feel a little bit more at ease. It was honestly amazing that so many different kinks could all play together. For the first time, I felt like I was actually part of a community. “Now... as many of you may have realised... we have a returning face from last time. Everyone, this is Paige. She is my submissive. She is my babygirl. She is my... girlfriend.” That weird, happy, squirmy feeling in my tummy quickly returned as she spoke about me in this way. “As many of you know from last time... Paige was our little centrepiece, after being caught trying to take something she shouldn’t have. All is in the past now though, and yes, many of you may be shocked, but I am in a relationship with her. If you’ve got an issue with her, or with our relationship, the door is over there. You may leave at any time.” I nudged myself closer to her so I was leaning against her. She looked down at me. “Sweetie? I need to ask before we play... I know everyone else’s limits on what others can do to them, they all do... but what are your rules for what others can do to you?” “Umm... I don’t know... umm... maybe?” I loved the idea of being the centre of attention by all these people. I loved the idea of being used and humiliated and... oh my god what have I become? As my mind drifted off, Alex looked back up at the waiting crowd. “Right, as for rules regarding playing with Paige here... take it slow. It’s her first time.” I mouthed ‘Thank you’ to her, and she just nodded and smiled. I knew I was in good hands. “Now... I’ve had enough of your time, go and have fun!” Everyone cheered and walked off to different parts of the large room. There was a little playpen set up in the corner of the room, something that Alex must have done after she told me I was finished with helping her earlier today. The spanking benches I helped bring down were in one corner of the room, along with a few other bits of furniture from the dungeon room. Cushions had been set up for the pets, as well as a good number of seats for people to just sit and chat. And as I watched everyone start to relieve themselves of their fake public personas... the masks they wore to hide the real them from the rest of the world, I couldn’t help but feel like I was finally with... people like me. The warm feeling in my tummy eased my nerves a bit. “Let’s go mingle, sweetpea... come along...” Alex’s domme voice came out and I snapped back to reality, walking along behind her as we went to play. ========================================================== Well you wondered if they'd run into any other people from the event. Well here's everyone! ?? I hope everyone enjoys this story as it goes on! Please leave likes and comments and all that fun stuff, I love reading them! Thank you to all my patrons for their support! Don't forget, the next 4 chapters are available on my Patreon, which can be found here if you go for the second tier. You get 4 chapters early access to chapters of Thief in Service. New chapters of Thief in Service every Monday/Wednesday/Friday! Also just a quick note: I don't mind people saving this story for personal reading. But I'd appreciate it if people didn't post it elsewhere, even if you're just suggesting it to other people. If you want to show others, please send them a link to the first page of this post! Thanks! ?